#dylan reader insert

[heartfullofleeches]

[Fuckgirl Yan stalks leads Feminine Reader home from work, a large puddle of water separating them from the other side of the street]

Reader: Crap. I just bought these shoes-

Fuckgirl Yan: You know I can carry you across if you just ask.

Reader: Don't bother. Hold.

[Reader takes off their shoes and hands them to her, hoisting the woman onto their shoulder as they march across - setting her down on the dry ground]

Fuckgirl Yan, hiding her blushing face with a hand: Well, damn. That woke up... several things in me. Shit- Do something like that again and you're gonna make me run down and buy a ring on the spot.

[supercap2319]

Nightwing (Dylan O'Brien) teaching Tim Drake / Robin (Jaeden Martell) how to fuck the BatFamily's whore properly. Just like Batman (Jensen Ackles) taught him!

Dick let out a small moan of pleasure as he sank his cock inside Y/N's hole. It was tighter than he remembered, but it was still just as warm and as slick. Bruce was out for the evening, but that doesn't mean Dick would miss out on showing Tim the ropes of what it truly means to be a member of the BatFamily.

"Fuck, Y/N. Are you just naturally tight or do you use magic to make your hole tighter than a pussy?" Dick groans as he thrusts his hips back and forth to the slut underneath him. Tim was watching in the corner, eyes wide with surprise, but it was clear that he was aroused.

Dick noticed this and smirked. "You see, Timmy, Y/N's been the BatFamily's whore even before me. He takes great pleasure in being filled by cocks. And he'll serve you too and future Robins as well. Now, do you want a turn?"

Tim looks between Dick and the other man on his back with his legs in the air. He had such a "fuck me" face, that Tim couldn't refuse but give him a good fucking. As well as a virgin can give a good fucking. Dick pulled out of Y/N and made some room for Tim as the younger male rolled on a condom and at Dick's encouraging words, he sank inside.

It was then that Tim realized that Y/N was indeed tight. And he was very warm. Tin moans as Dick guided him into his first fuck, helping him rock his hips back and forth. Y/N moans and arched his back. "Harder! Harder Tim!"

"You heard the slut." Dick chuckled. "Fuck him harder."

Tim smirks and picks up speed as Y/N moans and squirms as he's fucked like the cheap whore that he is. While this is going on, the camera surveillance fee is being sent to Bruce's phone right now as there's a noticeable bulge in his pants. "Fuck!"

[daintylovers]

I’mmmmm not gonna lie to you, stiles being a jerk was so hot I would LET him call me names and manhandle me and stare at my boobs wait this isn’t confessional? Oh sorry, I need to find the nearest catholic church

seeeeee- like its hot because it's unusual for him

he's normally nicer, not sweet necessarily. but he doesn't take things far.

but he's getting really fucking tired of being pushed around by everyone, so when you start egging it on?? game fucking over.

like yes! he will call you names! doesn't matter where you are, or who is around (werewolf hearing goes crazy when he bends down to whisper lewd things in your ears- one time scott overheard and even he started blushing)

the manhandling thing is more common. mostly because he doesn't recognize his own strength. he was bullied for being this lanky kid his whole life, so he is just completely unaware that he can be stronger than anyone.

but it's a huge turn-on- for both of you. playfighting i feel is pretty common, so when he pins you down with ease- your wrists bundled in his palm- he feels his dick start to strain against his jeans. looking down and seeing your flushed face, cheeks burning from the combined effort to win, and because holy shit he's so fucking hot and on top of me, has HIS mind racing a mile a minute. when he peeks down and spies that your shirt has ridden down, revealing more of your cleavage, as your chest rises and falls with the beat of his heart- it takes everything in him not to have you right then and there.

[newtkive]

pixels [newt x reader - modern text au]

ch. 1 - the gc birth

in which two online friends navigate a romance through a minecraft groupchat with their stupid friends

or, newt, the quiet, stoic boy, and y/n, the bubbly girl both curse the world for keeping them apart, but at least they can send each other cute emojis and hope the other doesn't notice their blossoming feelings.

warnings: strong language, mutual pining, none really.

➥ m.list

__

notes: hi :p im very new to writing on tumblr (but ive always been a reader) so pls bare w me! and im trying to revert back to being 14 (im 23 lols..) so im revisiting my old favs including the maze runner/thomas (bc i binged the artful dodger and now im obsessed again). there will be non-text chapters in the future as well, when everyone eventually meets. this will be newt focused so enjoy !! also everyone is like a realistic age from 23 to 28

__

THE GLADE

[ 7:45 PM ]

alby added minho, y/n, newt, tommy, and gally

alby: Hello, guys.

minho: wtf is this

newt: uhhhh

tommy: hi :3

y/n: so this is why you asked me for my # in private

gally: i didn’t consent to this when i gave you my number

newt: don’t give strange men your number y/n

tommy: oh that’s y/n?

alby: Wait, Newt you had Y/N’s number already??

newt: yea

tommy: o.O

y/n: i gave it to him like two weeks after we met lmao

tommy: SO HE HAD YOUR NUMBER FOR A YEAR AND I DIDNT????

y/n: well he asked and you guys didn’t :p

newt: lmao

minho: ik he smug as fuck rn

not u asking for a girls number lmao simp

newt: stop

y/n: we all talk in discord anyways so i didn’t really think about it

plus you guys are friends irl so idk

it felt kinda weird to insert myself heh

minho: we’ve known you for a year and a half y/n

we play games all the time

call all the time

we even send packages and shit

you’re very much considered our irl friend

y/n: REALLY?? 🥺🥺

tommy: internet friends are real friends 😍❤️

minho: the heart eyes are crazy

but yes dude

newt: of course you’re our close friend. just cuz we live near each other and you’re a bit far away doesn’t mean we don’t adore you

minho: ADORE IS CRAZY LMFAO

but real ig

y/n: AWWWWW YOU GUYS LOVEEE MEEEEEE

hahahahha

HAHAHHAHJFIEKMGOR

I LVOE YOU GIYYYYSSSS IM PUTTING ALL OUR MINECRAFT BEDS TOGETHER LATER

gally: i do not want my bed to be infested by you guys

minho: gally sleeps in the corner

gally: no i dont i sleep in my mansion

y/n: cherry blossom mansion*

gally: and you sleep in a shed

y/n: cherry blossom shed* its pink and that matters.

tommy: love you y/n 😊🥰

y/n: love you tommy <3333

minho: that’s actually nasty stop now

y/n: u mad ur unloved

i love how the gc name is our minecraft town name :((

newt: aw it is

minho: can we talk about why tf this was made when we have a perfectly good discord

alby: I’m done with Discord.

newt: you got your shit hacked didn’t you mate

minho: mate 💀💀

british people so crazy

alby: Yes maybe..

I don’t want to make another.

y/n: or your old ass doesn��t know how to

minho: LMAO REAL

alby: Gonna ignore that. But I am getting too old for it. I have a new promotion at work so that means I won’t have time to play with you guys as much anymore. So I decided to make this groupchat in hopes to talk to you guys more to make up for it :)

minho: every group always has the old head with the job 💀💀

newt: minho admitting he’s jobless

minho: you work at a library be so fr rn

newt: i have an income. you have a room in your grandmas basement. we are not the same.

gally: LMFAOOOOOOO

minho: stfu :////

y/n: AWWWWWWW ALBYYYYYYY

tommy: YAAAY!!!!

im going to text you guys all day

tell you every meal

every thought

every interaction will be meaningful and glorious

newt: you are 24 years old you don’t have to do all that

minho: no fr im turning off my phone if he starts this shit

why not just do it before in the discord ??

tommy: easy access now and i tried before but stopped since no one really replied..

y/n: i say we all do it :D i will too tommy

newt: ok second thought that’s fine

minho: .

gally: that’s wild.

y/n: YAAAAAY!!!!!!!!!! NEWT YOU GO FIRST

newt: first with what

y/n: say what u ate today

newt: didn’t say i’d do it.

tommy: i ate muffin, monster energy drink, and hamburger :3333

you guys next

minho: that’s all you had bro..

y/n: hot cheetos and french fries and coffee :D

minho: ??????? BRO

how are you guys alive

y/n: it's my day off and no class so i just wanna rot in bed and that means no cooking

newt: please eat and drink water.

like for real and document it

y/n: ok wait

there

tommy: yum!

minho: y/n..

newt: cereal does not count

y/n: I DONT HAVE ENERGY TO MAKE ANYTHING OKAY

im a 23 year old broke college student my fridge is bare

newt: alright what do you want?

y/n: wym?

newt: like if you could pick.

minho: that’s so cruel 😭😭 just making her imagine it

i like it go on.

tommy: i want chick fil a

minho: i knew you hate the gays

tommy: I AM THE GAYS?????

y/n: ugh that does sound good

mmmm chickem sandiwh waffle fry I Want that Os mYch

newt: that’s what you would order?

y/n: mmmcm yeahshhhhh

newt: ok

minho: that’s it?

i thought soemthing would happen

tommy: me too

like a spell! magic 🪄

y/n: sigh

my cereal tastes bad now

newt: well it is cocoa puffs.

minho: L cereal

y/n: DTOP SAYING L ITS SO ANNOYITIGJNGGGGG

minho: she so madddd 😂😂 L

newt: you're annoying minho

minho: youre just saying that bc shes saying that

newt: no ive always said it. and i will continue to. youre fucking annoying

minho: who bought you your coffee yesterday

newt: ???

myself

and i paid for yours too

im the one with an income

minho: .

well i didnt think youd remember that well.

newt: it was literally yesterday.

minho: yeah but ur old

newt: IM THE SAME AGE AS YOU

minho: yeah but im 🤗✨ 26 ✨🤗and youre... 26😬😔

tommy: guys stop fighting

newt: we aren't fighting

maybe this gc was a bad idea

tommy: NO!!!!!!!!!

y/n: NOOOO!

tommy: this is like y/n is here w us irl

y/n: awwwwwwwwwwwwwww

minho: no it's not. we would smell a foul stench if she was

y/n: i ahte you sooo bad.

wait there is a knock at my door im scared

newt: answer it

minho: aren't you supposed to say don't open the door for strangers ????

newt: well usually yes

y/n: no im not expecting company

newt: just do it pls

y/n: ok :D

minho: bruh..

i hope she gets robbed and u feel bad forever newt

newt: why would you want that

minho: bc she owes me money

newt: YOU owe ME money

minho: yes but i have a good reason she just wanted robux

tommy: Y/N DONT DO IT!!! I HAVE SEEN DATELINE

y/n: :o....

tommy: Y/N?????????

OH GOD THEY GOT HER

minho: why would she text a silly face if she got got

tommy: clearly its a surprised face

maybe its not her

its like those cut out magazine letters murderers use

y/n: who got me chick fil a!!!!!!!!!!

minho: me

newt: you literally did not

minho: shut up

y/n: newt it was u i see ur name on the receipt

newt: well

y/n: :(

newt: what why are you sad?

minho: im hungry too

y/n: u spent ur money :(

newt: you're hungry are you not?

minho: she's not but i am

y/n: yeah but..

i feel bad you shouldn't have

newt: just eat it or i'll be mad

minho: i think i want red lobster

newt: it's really no big deal y/n

y/n: thank you newt :(((((

newt: you're welcome

go eat and watch ur show or smth

minho: i owuld love to eat and watch a show rn <33 ohhhh im starving

newt: can you shut up

gally: im muting this gc if this means i have to deal with your guys' shit more than usual now.

minho: thank god

newt: good

tommy: good

y/n: good

the food is good too <3

newt: good.

_

lmk if you want to be tagged!

[harringtonstilinski]

14, 18, 22 - Stiles Stilinski (Smut)

Author: @harringtonstilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski x Reader Word Count: 3,796 Warnings: tiniest bit of angst, fluff, Smut: no | yes; virginity loss, protected piv, Requested: Yes. I hope this meets your expectations! A/N: Hi, friends! It's been a while!! I hope you like this! If you do, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

You and Stiles made a pact when the two of you were 11 years old that if you hadn’t had any “firsts” by a certain age, you’d be each other's first. At first, you both thought it was silly that you were making this list of firsts, but as you sat on your bedroom floor looking at the list of neat and sloppy handwriting at the age of 14, you smiled a little to yourself. 

Your bedroom door opening had your head snapping up to see why in the hell someone would bust into your room. The answer came in the form of your best friend, Stiles, practically falling onto your floor.

In between breaths, he said, “Guess… who finally… said hey to me.”

Pretending to think about it, you put your index finger against your jaw, humming in thought. “Let me see,” you said, quietly, tapping where your finger rested. Pointing up while widening your eyes, you said, “Oh! I got it! Scott!”

“Ha ha, very funny,” he deadpanned. “No, I’m serious.”

Sighing, you go back to looking at the piece of paper from three years ago. “Let me guess; Lydia?”

Spazzing out, he said, “Yes! I was walking by her locker and she said hey.”

Looking up confused, you said, “Yeah, she wasn’t talking to you.”

“Ya’know, you don’t have to ruin my moment here,” he said, without missing a beat.

You giggled, still looking at the paper. Stiles sat next to you, looking at the paper as well.

“Oh, wow,” he whispered. “I forgot we wrote this.”

“Yeah,” you whispered back. “I found it last night shoved in the back of my nightstand.” You looked over your shoulder at him, his nose almost touching yours. Hesitantly, you asked, “Have you had your first kiss?”

Stiles shook his head, his eyes locked on yours. “No.” Before either of you knew it, he had leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours. It took you a moment before you kissed him back.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment before you pulled away at the same time. Keeping your eyes closed, you quietly asked, “Why’d you do that?”

“Because you haven’t had your first kiss yet,” he responded just as quietly. 

~~~

Graduation day. The day you leave high school… forever. You’re excited about it because that means no more waking up at the ass crack of dawn, no more listening to teachers bitch about students not doing their part, no more fashion contests or popularity contests. Just… no more… for three months.

Stiles turned 18 a few weeks before you and your friends walked across the stage. Everyone wanted to have a joint graduation party at Lydia’s lake house… until a stupid supernatural creature ruined it.

A week had passed between graduation and the party, and while everyone was sitting around the campfire talking about their firsts, all you could do was cast your eyes downward, picking a spot on the ground to stare at as you tried your best to block out the voices.

Once you heard Stiles’ voice, you stood up, tears in your eyes as you walked into the lake house, hearing your name being called from behind you. Making your way up the stairs, you wiped a tear from your cheek that had fallen. Once you made it to the top of the landing, a hand grabbed your arm, gently turning you around.

“What’s wrong?”

Sniffling, you rested your forehead on Stiles’ chest, letting out a quiet sob. “I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Wrapping his arms around you, Stiles sighed and rested his chin on your head. “Couldn’t take what?”

“Hearing you all talk about your firsts,” you whispered.

Stiles put a curved index finger under your chin, lifting your head to look into your tear filled eyes. “You haven’t had your first?”

Shaking your head, you closed your eyes, letting the tears fall. “No. I almost did, but… he wasn’t the right person.” You reached into your back pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper, holding it up.

Stiles looked at it, a small smile starting to form on his lips. “You carry it with you?”

Nodding, you closed your eyes again to let the tears fall before opening your eyes back up, Stiles’ eyes already on you as you said, “Ever since I found it.”

Without thinking it through, Stiles placed his lips on yours, a sigh coming from your nose. He cupped your cheeks in his hands, carefully walking you backwards into the nearest room, which happened to be the room both your stuff was in.

You made quick work to take off Stiles’ shirt, the two of you breaking apart for a moment to pull the shirt over his head before your lips were back on each other’s only to break apart again for a moment for your shirt to come off.

Stiles looked down at the tops of your breasts that weren't covered by your bra. He looked back up, your eyes locking before he leaned forward, connecting your lips again in heated kiss, his arms circling around your back to hold you to him, your bare stomachs touching. 

You hummed at the feeling, wrapping your arms around his neck. Pulling back, you looked at him with a shocked expression, feeling your bra loosen around your chest. “I didn’t even feel you unclasp it.”

Stiles smirked, a cocky one. “I’ve had some practice.”

Your face fell at his words, the confidence you were gaining crumbling to the ground. Stiles noticed and quickly tried to reassure you, “That wasn’t a dig, I’m sorry. It was just–”

His words stopped when you crashed your lips to his again, getting lost in his lips. You didn’t register your bra completely coming off as you made work to unbutton and unzip his jeans.

Slightly pulling away, you kept your lips close to his as you took your bra the rest of the way off, breathlessly saying, “You gotta stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” he chuckled.

“Doing things without me feeling it.”

Laughing lightly, Stiles undid the button and zipper on your shorts as you started to push his jeans down his legs.

Looking at him with an almost serious look that was more laced with humor, you said, “It’s hot as hell, quit.”

Another kiss as he backed you up to the mattress, the backs of your legs meeting it before you fell back on it, crawling backwards on the bed to lay comfortably, your hair splaying out around you. Stiles crawled on top of you, pressing his lips to your stomach every so often before his lips were wrapping around one of your nipples, a moan sounding from your throat.

“Mmmmmm, Stiles,” you moaned, threading your hands through his hair. You looked down at the same exact time Stiles released the bud, only to make his tongue visible as he licked at it. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

Chuckling, Stiles’ forehead met your breast as he laughed at your words. “Let me finish.”

“Then let me continue,” he said, looking up at you. As you nodded, he pushed himself up towards your lips once more, pressing his lips to yours before pulling back, giving your other nipple the same attention.

What you had failed to realize as he kissed his way down your stomach was the fact that your shorts were in a pile on the floor. “Wait, wait.” Stiles lifted his head, eyes swimming with a small bit of fear. Shaking your head, you took a breath. “It’s not bad, just a question.”

He nodded his head, readjusting his hands on the mattress. “Yeah?” “When did my shorts come off?”

He laughed at that, looking down at your stomach. Lifting his head to look back at you, he replied, “When you fell on the bed.”

Your eyes danced around the air above him before you tilted your head to the side a little. “Fair enough.” Looking back at him, you said, “Continue.”

Shaking his head, he looked back down at your stomach, placing a kiss on it. Your nerves started to come up as you watched him wrap his fingers on the top of your panties, anticipating what was going to happen next.

You watched porn before so you knew what to expect, but for it to actually be happening to you was… surreal. The moment that Stiles pulled the top of your panties down a little to place his lips there, you sucked in a breath, the anticipation killing you.

Stiles knew exactly what he was doing. He was fully aware he was taking his time and ultimately teasing you, but he wanted to make this moment with you last as long as he possibly could. Truth be told, he never wanted Malia as his first. She was just there for him in Eichen when Nogitsune possessed him.

He hooked his fingers in the sides of your panties, slowly pulling them down, a quiet “Lift” sounding from his mouth. If you hadn’t been staring at his mouth, you wouldn’t have heard him say it, your body on autopilot as you complied, doing what he asked.

After he dropped your panties to the floor, Stiles placed a kiss to the top of your slit, your breath hitching as he lowered himself, spreading your legs apart, revealing your core to him, your arousal shining. “Damn,” he whispered. He looked up at you, his signature smirk on his lips. “This for me?”

Nodding, you bit your bottom lip, anxious of his next movements. 

Stiles looked back down at your core, using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, revealing more of your arousal to him. He moved his eyes to your clit, staring at it for a moment before placing a kiss to it, a hiss coming from your lips.

“Stiles.” It came out in a half moan, half whine. “Do somethi–” A gasp sounded from you as Stiles wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking gently, your back arching off the bed a couple inches. Dropping back down, you moved your head to the side to look at him. “Fuuuuuck.”

He released your clit to lick a long stripe up your core, gathering a little bit of your arousal. “Damn, you taste like heaven.” He licked another stripe before stopping at your clit again, using his tongue to flick at your sensitive bud.

You all but screamed when you felt one of his fingers enter your pussy, a moan sounding out as he slowly pumped his finger in and out before slowly adding another one. Feeling your climax building, you threaded your fingers through his hair, resting your hand on the top of his head.

“Please don’t stop,” you breathed, eyes closing at the pleasure he was giving you. It was way more than you expected. It almost seemed too much. But just as you were about to release all over his fingers, it all suddenly stopped. You looked down at him, shock laced all over your features. “Wha–” The answer that you received from Stiles wasn’t words, but his lips on yours, a promise of what’s to come through the kiss.

He pulled away from the kiss, standing by the edge of the mattress, bending down to retrieve his jeans that you had pushed down his legs earlier. Grabbing his wallet, Stiles looked at you, eyes roaming over your body.

You almost felt insecure with the way he was looking at you. Watching as Stiles grabbed a condom out of his wallet, you sat up, reaching for his cock, beginning to stroke him a little to help keep his erection in place.

Groaning at the pleasure coursing through his body, he closed his eyes, relishing in the feel of your hand on him. What shocked Stiles was the fact that you had slid down the side of the mattress, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock.

Moaning your name, Stiles threw his head back with his eyes closed, not wanting this moment to end. When you hit a certain spot on his cock, he bucked his hips, immediately regretting it when you whined and pulled back.

He looked down at you, making quick movements to help you stand up as your hand was at your mouth. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, hands on your upper arms. 

You shook your head, closing your eyes for just a moment. “It’s okay.”

Stiles moved the both of you to sit on the edge of the bed, hand on your back. Truth be told, when he bucked, the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, almost setting off your gag reflex. Looking at Stiles, you softened your eyes even more than what they already were. “It’s okay, Stiles. Really.”

He stood, starting to pace, mumbling to himself about how he lost control and that he regretted it. You couldn’t help but chuckle at him, his erection still ever present. Standing, you moved in front of him, grabbing him by the shoulders to stop his pacing, a smile on your face.

When his eyes connected with yours, your smile was still on your face. “It’s okay. I promise. I’m fine. Feeling passed just as quickly as it came.” Looking down at his hands, you grabbed the foil from him, tearing the packaging open to carefully pull the condom from the foil.

Remembering what your sex ed teacher taught you, you carefully rolled the condom onto his shaft before grabbing his hands, pulling him with you back to the bed. “Now, forget about all that and take me.”

Crawling back on the bed, you got into your previous position as Stiles crawled over you, hands on either side of your head to brace himself. He placed his lips on yours, giving you a sweet kiss before pulling away and looking down at your core.

You lightly moaned, closing your eyes, the feeling of Stiles’ fingers back on you like pure heaven. Opening your eyes, you watched as Stiles lined himself up with your entrance, gathering the arousal that had formed during both of his touches.

“Stiles,” you moaned, breathlessly.

He locked eyes with you, softness lacing his caramel colored orbs. “It’s gonna hurt.”

You nodded. “I know.” Carding your fingers through the side of his hair, you sighed. “I trust you.”

He mimicked your nod, giving a chaste kiss to your lips before looking back at the spot where the two of you were about to become one. Sighing in anticipation, you closed your eyes, groaning at the feeling of Stiles entering you for the very first time.

Tears formed at your waterline, the pain almost becoming too much. You hadn’t realized you held your breath upon Stiles entering your core until you felt his hand cup your cheek, his thumb smoothing over your cheek. 

What you loved in this moment was the fact that Stiles was letting you take all the time you needed to adjust to his size. He didn’t want to pressure you into telling him to move and that it was okay for him to move. 

After a moment, Stiles heard you sigh. “You okay?” he asked.

You looked at him, a tear falling from the corner of your eye to your ear, Stiles making a quick movement to catch it with his thumb. Nodding, you kissed the tip of his nose. “Yes. It hurt at first, but it doesn’t anymore.” Cupping his cheeks, you looked him deep in his eyes. “You can move now.”

“Okay,” he whispered. “I’ll start slow and then you can tell me if you want–”

Chuckling, you said, “Stiles, I know, and I will.”

He breathed a quick laugh, his breath fanning over your face. “Okay. Here I go.” Pulling out slow, the both of you hissed at the feeling before he slowly pushed back in. He kept the pace, listening for your cue’s on whether or not you were in pain.

Once your breathing evened out, your moans turned from almost strained and painful to soft and pleasurable. Stiles moved to rest his forearms by your head, almost cupping the top of your head with his hands.

“Stiles,” you lightly moaned. “You can go a little faster, maybe a tad harder.”

He breathed the word fuck, doing as you asked. He respected you so much, happy that you allowed him this moment with you.

As pleasure coursed through you, your moans grew louder, letting Stiles know that what he was doing was the right move, the right thing. You moved your hands from his cheeks to wrap your arms around his neck, Stiles instantly wrapping you in his arms the best he could.

“Stiles,” you moaned, loudly. “Gonna cum.”  Stiles’ pubic hair was rubbing against your clit, sending immense pleasure through you. “Don’t stop.”

“Don’t plan on it,” he whispered. “Let go, babe. I’m so close.”

“Stiles!!” You breathed in deep, your release shattering through you, Stiles instantly releasing with you. Neither of you moved for what felt like hours, but it was only a couple minutes as you both regained your breathing.

Stiles leaned up a little, looking into your eyes. “Are you okay?”

Nodding with a small smile, you carded your fingers through his hair. “I’m perfect. Thank you.”

He kissed your nose in response, telling you that he was going to carefully pull out, the both of you hissing as he did. He walked into the bathroom, cleaning himself up before bringing a warm washcloth to you, carefully cleaning you up. He sighed a little to himself, seeing the tiniest bit of blood on the washcloth.

“What?” you asked, sitting up a little.

“You’re bleeding,” he whispered, showing you the cloth.

Sighing lightly, you said, “That’s to be expected, Stiles. It’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Realizing that you were right, Stiles smirked that smirk that could kill before nodding slightly, moving to dress himself before helping to redress you. He helped you down the stairs, you reassuring him that you’re not fragile and that you’re okay enough to walk on your own.

When the two of you made it back to the fire and sat back down in your original spots, you looked at Scott, the True Alpha werewolf knowing what just happened between you and Stiles, a chuckle sounding out of your throat as you told him, “Shut up.”

~~~

Another graduation day. This time for you graduating from college. You were more than excited to finally be done with school for what will probably be the rest of your life, if you didn’t find something else to go for. 

As all the graduation caps flew into the air, you had the biggest smile on your face, remembering all of your friends and family screaming and hollering and celebrating as you walked across the stage after your name was called.

Since all the guests had to wait outside for the graduate, you were practically buzzing to get outside to see everyone. The friends you made during your four years at college will forever be your best friends, but no one will ever hold a candle to your Beacon Hills friends.

Once you made it outside and spotted your family, your smile stretched so wide across your face, you thought you’d permanently become the Joker. You ran to your family, your mom engulfing you in a hug, holding you tightly to her chest. You hugged your dad next, putting your hand on each one of their shoulders, the smile never faltering as you looked them in their eyes, thanking them for everything they’d done for you this far in your life.

The smile on your dads face had you looking over his shoulder, spotting your friends behind him. Moving to squeeze yourself in between your parents, you all but jumped into Scott’s arms, the Alpha giving you a tight, brotherly hug. 

Lydia was next, followed by Malia, Liam and Mason. Sheriff was even there! But you couldn’t spot the one person you wanted to hug more than anything; Stiles.

Looking around, you started to get worried as you heard gasps all around you. “Where’s Stiles?” you asked, looking at Scott. 

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just smiled at you before he whispered, “Turn around.”

You did as he asked, turning around, but not seeing Stiles… until you looked down, your spazz of a best friend on one knee, a velvet box in his hand. “Stiles,” you whispered, covering your mouth with your hand. “What?”

“We made a promise,” he said. “A promise as kids that we’ve kept.”

Letting out a quick, breathy chuckle, you said, “It was a pact.”

“Same thing,” he said, a smile on his face. “There were a lot of things that I regretted with that pact, but I’m happy I got to be it for you. For all of it.”

“Wait, what?” Malia asked.

Everyone laughed at her question, you turning to face her. “When Stiles and I were eleven years old, we made a pact that if we hadn’t had certain firsts by a certain age, we’d be that first for each other.” Turning back to Stiles, you whispered, “He was my first kiss, and first time.”

“And I’m now hoping I’ll be your first proposal,” he whispered back, to which you nodded.

“Can you get on with it even though we’re not a couple?” you asked, already buzzing with your answer.

“You’ve made me happy since we were kids, and I would love nothing more than to make you happy for the rest of our lives,” he continued. “Yeah, we’re not a couple, but you know everything there is to know about me. Come to think of it…” He trailed off, looking deep in thought. “I don’t think there’s a thing you don’t know about me.”

“Stiles!” everyone exclaimed. 

Looking back at you, Stiles shook all thoughts from his head. “Oh, right, sorry.”

“Just ask!”

“Will you marr-”

“Yes!” you all but yelled. “Now get up so I can kiss you!”

Stiles smiled, standing and wrapping you in his arms. “You didn’t see the ring yet.”

“I don’t care,” you said, cupping his cheeks and bringing his lips to yours. The kiss that solidified your love for the boy you absolutely loved since your first kiss at fourteen, your first time at eighteen. 

He pulled back, smiling at you before he opened the box, revealing the engagement ring of your dreams. As he took it from the box, you put your hand out, excited to be his. Once he slipped it on your finger, you looked at him once more, cupping his cheeks again to tell him those three words you always wanted to tell him.

“I love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! let me know what you thought about! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Notes: 

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak​

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

Italics wouldn’t let me tag!

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of Jeff Davis.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on September 24, 2023

[musewritingsforyou]

A Normal? Day

Summary: A normal day in the life of Beacon Hills Favorite Couple

Warnings: unbearable Fluff, plot points that wont make sense just yet

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I realized I dont have any of my Stiles work updated yet! This is just a short little oneshot to show people what my stiles writing will kind of be like. I wrote it to be included in a season rewrite that I am doing but It didnt fit great so now im just giving it to you for fun!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*somethings that wont make sense to you will be explained if you go read my series rewrite in the next few weeks!*

A normal day in a supernatural world. 

Step one, wake up. 

Waking up is a long process for me. My lovely hyperactive boyfriend did what he always does for me each morning, wake up about thirty minutes before me, sit there as still as he can (which is not very still) to let me sleep in, give up after ten minutes and then get out of bed. Stiles woke up at six this morning, playing with my hair as I slept before he finally got out of bed. Like every morning since we started doing this, he placed his pillow and a spare flannel in my arms so I wouldn't  ‘get cold and lonely’, and then went to get himself ready for school. This was a relatively short process, throw on some pants, decide between a sweatshirt or a flannel, find the backpack and then he's pretty much done. For me on the other hand, it's a little different.

“y/n/n, I gave you five extra minutes. You gotta get up.” I groaned and moved the pillow that was in my arms to cover my face. To my disappointment Stiles took it off and started peppering me with kisses until I opened my eyes with a scowl on my face.

“I love you but I really hate you.” He gave me a classic Stiles grin as he moved backwards off of the bed. 

“I know, you make sure to tell me that every time I wake you up.” 

After walking out the door, and then back to it within seconds to make sure I was actually getting up, Stiles went downstairs to make some coffee and left me to get ready. I was running late, per usual, but by the time I made it to the car all of my things were there waiting for me, along with Stiles who held out a travel cup of coffee just the way I like it and forcibly handed me a banana.

“Eat.” I shook my head and motioned for him to drive. 

“Too early, If I eat right now I'll actually puke all over your car.” He started the car and drove with one hand as he kept the banana extended. 

“Babe, we do this every morning and every morning I remind you that-” I snatched the fruit from his hand as I finished his sentence. 

“Breakfast is important and if you don't eat it in three hours you're going to come to me during class with a panicked look on your face telling me you think you're about to pass out. I know, I remember.” 

I sound sarcastic like this every morning, but even through the snide remarks and the occasional unnecessary and undeserved insult, Stiles still looks at me like I'm the answer to the universe.

Step two, school. For this one I recommend that you don’t do what I manage to do every year, fill your schedule with all honors and AP classes, zero breaks or study halls, and more than three extra-curriculars.

I won't bore you with the rather slow details of a highschool senior. I will however give you this, classes are hard, I don't think I will ever be able to use a red pen in my entire life, and with each passing day somehow I find a way to be even more stressed than the day before. 

The day ended with me sitting on a bench with Lydia and Malia, watching our boys play lacrosse from across the field and inevitably laughing our asses off whenever either of them would look over to make a face at us and get tackled or hit with something from the field. Ah the simple pleasures, you know? As we both waited for Stiles and Scott, Lydia and I spread our various school textbooks out on the bench in front of us, in all about sixteen heavy books set open as we studied. When Coach finally blew his whistle with one ear shattering blow after another the boys ran to us, practically dripping in sweat. Stiles bound up the bleachers, skipping some of the steps and leaned down in front of me, waiting for a kiss. I didn't look up from my textbook, and neither did Lydia as she responded to the boys while hovering over her calculus homework.

“Nice try boys, but before you even think about going anywhere but a dog kennel, you need to take showers.” There were a few mumbled protests but again without looking up she shooed them with her hands. 

“Come on, off you go.” I giggled a little as they marched away in defeat, their cleats making a crunching sound when they reached the grass. 

Step three, finally to get home, only to have to go to a pack meeting. 

Like every other Friday the pack all met in Scotts living room, this time all agreeing to stay away from anything breakable. I promised Melissa I wouldn't let them destroy the house while she was out, and I keep my promises. At the moment there were no big problems. Though I still wince a little when I say it, it seems like everything in Beacon Hills is… normal. As weird as that sounds. But we still meet once a week, every week it becomes more of a group study/hangout than a real meeting, but spending time with our friends was more valuable than any solution we had come up with before. The only issue to discuss at this meeting was me. I wouldn't call it an issue exactly, but after finding out about my… species? People? Clan? I don't know what to call it, but after finding out about what I am, we still have almost no information about what that really means, for me or for them. 

“Liam, as much as I appreciate the input, I don’t think being a truth seeker literally means that I can cheat on multiple choice tests. Even if it did, morally I will tell you again, cheating is a bad thing, and also none of my classes use multiple choice.” 

They all tried their best to put Stiles and I at ease, telling us that in time we would figure it all out. But that was the thing, we didn't have time. We’re seniors just a few months from leaving this town for college, and once I leave I don't see myself flying across the country once a week just so that I can make sure I know the “truth” of Beacon Hills. The sun finally set and Stiles and I said our goodbyes, walking hand in hand out the jeep before heading to his house for the night. 

Step four, stay up until three in the morning looking for answers about what supernatural powers you have. yeah , I know, that one's a kicker. 

As soon as Stiles and I stepped foot in the door of his room we threw off our bags and changed into sweatpants. I took the flannel he gave to me this morning and placed it over my tank top as we stood in front of his clear board as if waiting for an idea to come to us by itself. The board was still blank, nothing there but a picture of me and Stiles together at the lookout in the woods. A little reminder that no matter what crazy ideas are thrown onto this board, we always have each other. We settled into our usual spots, Stiles standing and pacing in the middle of the room while I spread books and papers out over his bed, laying on my stomach and staring into the pages. 

Finally, Step five, wait for the full frustration to kick in, and then once it's there, find a cute boy to calm you down.

I was laying flat on my stomach with four books in front of me, two from school, two from Lydia on the supernatural. I was hoping that in between my AP calculus homework and my college physics textbook I could figure out something new about my identity. News flash, it wasn't working. I groaned at the words in front of me, frustrated that for some reason the letters were swimming in and out. I took the books (all four of them) and slammed them shut before throwing them aggressively onto the ground in front of Stile’s bed and then taking the papers and just tossing them onto the air without any thought of aim or purpose. Stiles stopped pacing and stood still in front of his board, which now had a few red squiggles here and there along with the photo and a horrible attempt at drawing a wolf. He turned slowly to me with a marker in his hands.

“You good?”

“Not really.” He nodded and walked over, sitting beside me on the edge of the bed and putting the marker down. While I was still lying on my stomach he placed a hand on my back and rubbed it slowly.

“baby, do you know what time it is right now?” I placed my head in my hands and responded. 

“No. Do I want to?” 

“No, but I'm going to tell you anyway. It's three in the morning.” I said nothing and just signed into my hands. Stiles ignored my angry sighs and continued. 

“Babe do you know what that means?” I shook my head. 

“Well first of all it means that you are probably exhausted, which is why you're getting so frustrated with yourself, but more importantly it means that we have two hours before that night time diner downtown closes.” I looked up fast. 

“Are you talking about the one with the pie, and the fries and the shakes.” He looked at me very seriously and nodded. Without another word I popped up on the bed and threw on a pair of crocs.

 “Stiles, no matter what I say in the mornings when you wake me up, I love you so much I think you might even be higher on my list than eating pie at three in the morning.” He gave me a broad smile and kissed me on the cheek. 

“Say no more, love.”

[itsnocturna]

Just a quick research here pls answer !

On a "x reader" fanfic... do you guys prefer the use of "you" or "y/n" ???

[montysstuffs]

Hii! I would like to know if you would write a dylan lenivy x fem! reader smut (I canon dylan as bi btw) where they sneak out at night to have seggs in the radio shack. I hope that's alright? Thank you!

Love Shack

Dylan x f!reader

AN: I am so sorry this took so long to get out. I suck and once I get all of these out, I plan on writing a continuation bc Jesus Dylan looks good on his knees. As usual, this was not beta read, so I apologize for any grammatical errors on my part. Ily💕💕 Any and all negative comments will be deleted 😘

Warnings: oral (f receiving), cussing, (if there are more, let me know~)

“D-Dylan, we shouldn’t.”

“And why not, doll face?”

“Someone might see -fuck.”

The thought that someone might walk in on the two of you sent a wave of fear and an arousing chill down both of your bodies. Dylan’s fingers made quicks work of his belt. His usually nimble fingers stuttering and fumbling to get the rest of his jeans. It was the first time you both had any time to yourselves, and Dylan was not going to waste any time showing you how much he missed your presence. You looked at him with an enticing and playful glint as you sat up on his soundboard. Haphazardly pressing every single button imaginable. Fuck you were so lewd.

He places a chaste kiss to your neck as he flips a switch. Effectively turning off everything. He was always the precautious type anyway. You held up your flimsy skirt as he eased his way down to his knees. He always looked so good under you. You didn’t even bother to waste time pulling your panties off. He pulled them to the side as he got an eyeful of your dripping cunt. “Someone’s happy to see me,” he smirks up at you as he bites your inner thigh.

“Shut up and eat me already.”

“Ooo eager are we?” He hooks one of your legs over his shoulders as he darts his tongue out. His hot breath ghosted over where you needed attention the most.

Growing impatient, you tug at his brown hair. Pulling his face into your awaiting pussy. He whimpers at the motion. His cock twitches, he is taken aback by how bold you are. “Fuck yes. Grab my hair and grind into my mm-“ his words are cut off by another forceful tug. This time, his tongue is immediately met with your wet folds. Capturing your clit in his mouth, his hands begin to wander. One of your hands keeps you propped up as the other doesn’t let for of his hair. “I-I’m sorry. I just couldn’t wait any longer,” still, you don’t let his hair go. Fearful that if you do, he’ll stop pleasuring you like he is. “No no, I like it,” he says between licks. Your juices combined with his spit runs down his chin as he laps at your pussy. There is a mixture of sucks and kisses at your clit as he adds in two of his fingers. He groans at how tight you are, “relax baby.” He could barely get to the first knuckle. The last thing he would want is to hurt his princess. Your grip on his hair loosens, your hand trailing down to cup his cheek. His fingers finally reach his second knuckle. He looks up at you as if you hung the moon in the sky. “Hey, look at me, beautiful. That feel good?” You can’t help but to buck your hips abruptly as he grazes over that wonderful bundle of nerves that you love so much. You manage to open one of your hazy eyes, the sight under you could’ve sent you over the ledge. Dylan’s tongue was out flat against your. Clit as his fingers work their magic. Something he’s acquired over a bit of time. His pace quickens as your hips begin to stutter on their own. Your moans echo through the rickety shack as your orgasm washes over you. Dylan encourages and coaxes you through it, “Cum nice and hard for me baby. Ride it out, baby, ride it out. That’s it, very good.” He only adds to the overwhelming pleasure by lapping at your creamy pussy. He waits for you to ride your wave before he stands back up. You taste yourself on his lips. So sweet and earthy.

“Meet me back at our spot, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll return the favor.”

[underground-legionary]

Eternal Circle

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

1963!Bob Dylan x reader (gender unspecified) Rating: this one is very PG Warnings: slightly angsty, English not first language, might be edited. Summary: Pretty much the title song of this fic, narrated from the perspective of Bob. Young artist longing. Author notes: Had this stuck in my head, needed to get it out. Kinda short, kinda hectic, enjoy! Constructive criticism always welcome, especially in terms of typos/wording/punctuation. Word count: 1.395

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

An entire colony of shivers ran down Bob's spine as he felt a bid of sweat roll down the back of his neck - into the collar of his shirt, counting every vertebra. One of the stage lights at the venue was mercilessly radiating heat in its attempts to serve its sole purpose. Prior to becoming a known musician Bob has never pondered over practical and almost worldly inconveniences of being a performer. Music came first, and everything else was secondary. Now, sitting on a high wooden stool ready to deliver yet another song to a modestly sized audience, the young musician could not think about anything else. And yet, despite minute discomforts there was undeniably something charming in playing smaller, more personal shows, even after the whirlwind that his life has been in the months since Freewheeling was pressed onto vinyl. This is precisely why Bob still did them: sometimes at a bookstore or at a coffeehouse, anywhere where the intimate feeling of playing for people was still lingering in the air. Joan had a much easier time communicating with the terrific mass of people that was protest movement than Bob could ever wish for himself. Which, looking into himself, he did not know if he even did.

Slowly drifting away into his thoughts, the performer gently blew into his harmonica and tried a picking pattern to see if his instument was still in tune. The strings did not sound too bright - instead a warm tone started flowing from under Bob's fingers, demonstrating the strings' pride in the signs of their wear.

It was a hard pill to swallow, but for some time now Bob has been sensing a shift within himself. Uniquely renditioned and heartfelt every time before, now his songs came to him in a tired, excercised manner, flat in a way that stayed unnoticed by an uninvolved observer. Pieces like Masters of War or Talking World War III Blues have said all that they had to say, so it had been getting more and more easy for Bob to leave the delivery to the autopilot-of-head-and-hands and think about something else halfway through. It might sound like a contradiction, but at the same time Bob could also feel something building up in him, as if he was a spring, coiling tight before snapping and jumping into the mouth of the changing times, straight into the eye of the approaching storm. Something potent to show that behind the made-up symbol was a person, invisible despite being stared at, there, behind the blue eyes and devilish curls. People in this very room, however, were not ready for it just yet. Bob leaned to the microphone and announced:

‘Next song's a tune that's called A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall’. Upon this, a round of applause has made its way through the venue and the familiar strumming poured into the microphone. Bob's eyes stung slightly from all the cigarette smoke. He could go for a smoke himself.

While playing, Bob could not pinpoint what he was trying to connect with that particular night, his music or his audience. He was never interacting with the concertgoers all that much, always letting his songs speak for themselves, but sometimes being stuck in his head, alone, was simply too much. For a second he wondered whether he himself has become one of the 10,000 talkers with a broken tongue, without realising it? While his mind was roaming, his curious eyes were wondering as well. Among the hats, coats and chemically smelling updos in the dimly lit room something, or, rather, someone stood out. You leaned onto one of the decorative columns on the wall and listened, intentely and somewhat solemnly, a cigarette held pensively between your fingers. It didn't seem like you were particularly interested in smoking at that moment, but rather that you merely wanted to occupy your hands. Undeniably, there was something in the energy you exuded that made Bob's eyes linger and his chest tingle with warm eagerness. Was it the way your hair fell, your contours bent so sweetly or was it the intense focus you had on him like he was the only person in the world worth listening to? Was it the slight shock he felt at the sudden gravitational pull towards the shining star that was you? Bob quickly everted his eyes to avoid staring - looks have always been a delicate game, where one must tread lightly.

Yet, the musician knew he had to talk to you, he got tangled up in your magnetic force. He couldn't help but crave some closeness from this beautiful, breathtaking sight in front of him. He longed for learning the sound of your voice: was it low and husky or rather high with a more singing cadence? Should he speak with you, would you maintain this pensive disposition or would you let your laughter ring cheerfully for everyone to enjoy? What did your perfume smell like, your hair? How would it feel to dance with you, hear you whisper something into his ear, your warm body close to his?.. The next note he sang fell slightly flat. Suddenly Bob felt like an amateur and flustered like a boy.

Bob’s blue eyes darted back to you to see if you noticed, which, of course was a fatal mistake. When you two briefly made eye contact, the man felt his face flush slightly as if he got caught in something he was not supposed to be doing. Blessed be the stage lights for making up a good excuse! He couldn't help but grin a bit, the mood of the song now forgotten. As you dreamily averted your gaze, Bob was now persuaded you were partaking in this game of cat-and-mouse with him, and it made him feel bold. Your attention flattered him, he was but a man after all, his ego partial to the simple excitement of a beautiful woman such as yourself. After all, despite his natural wit, charm and ability to fill in any room he walked into with his presence alone, there was still a side of him that was all bones and angles, nose and a crooked grin, clothes not filled properly by body, young man who, mere months ago, wanted nothing but to play a song to his idol.

You smiled to some thought of your own and Bob felt another tug at the strings of his heart, ready to burst into song just like his guitar. Your eyes seemed to be on fire, but there was nothing to be done about it now. The song was long and there was more to be sung. From that moment Bob has dedicated this song to you entirely, whether you knew it or not. After that the young artist tried his best to focus and deliver his best performance. He even attempted not to look at you anymore to not let the rising heat in him be a distraction. Suddenly he became very aware of himself on that stage, of his unruly hair and the damned stage lights causing sweat to pool under his arms. When he approaches you, what does he say?..

And just like that, the song was over. The shy clinking of drinks put on tables and rustle of ashtrays being moved around - sounds that always precede applause in places like this - have reached the stage. The listeners were delighted. Bob stood up to thank the audience and bowed his head slightly.

‘Thank you, thank you’. He braced himself before looking towards the column where you stood, but you were gone. His grip on the neck of his guitar tightened slightly in confusion. Bob looked around the venue trying to find you as the content clapping of the listeners failed to die down. People are often greedy like that, they never want the entertainment to end, especially when the possibility of an encore is lingering around the corner. But just like that you were truly gone. Disappointment made Bob's chest feel tight. Could it be that you were only a figment of his longing imagination? Perhaps, you simply went outside and will be back soon? Maybe it is time for an encore after all.

Bob took a sip of water, sat back down on his tall stool and wondered, what song might be just good enough to summon you back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Image source

[hanasnx]

❝ not alone anymore. ❞

── billy quinn x reader

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 2k SUMMARY: you meet a handsome stranger at a party, and go out for coffee after. NOTES: i wrote this a year ago and am getting it out of my drafts. WARNINGS: gn!reader | implied: attraction | mentioned: innuendo | smoking | cursing | no y/n.

You raked a hand through your hair, the cold night air fogging your breath as you stepped out the sliding glass door. Escaping the full swing of the party inside, you took refuge out on the balcony, and with trembling hands you struggled to take out a cigarette and a lighter. It was freezing out here compared to the stuffy inside, where the hot bodies dancing acted as a space heater. The dampness of your lips caught the cig, allowing you to check your watch for the time, wondering when you should be heading out. Staring at it for longer than a second told you that it had stopped at one AM. “Shit,” you muttered through your lips dangling the cigarette. How long had it been then? Tapping it out of anger didn’t work either, the face of the clock staring blankly at you. Instead, you tried to light your cig, cupping your hand around it. The lighter sparked, but didn’t catch, no matter how many times you rolled it. “C’mon, really?” A couple more times offered no solution, and you were about to toss and stamp the tobacco in your frustration.

“Need a light?” A voice coming from the side startled you, jumping in surprise, and turning to the source. It was dark out, but you could see. The source was tall, and you watched him rifle his pockets. 

“Please,” you replied, inviting him over. Gingerly, he stepped to you, and cupped his hand to protect the fire from the wind, offering it to you. You brushed your hair back and leaned in, letting him light the end for you. Gently, you breathed in, and pinched the cig between your fingers so you could blow the smoke away from him. He pocketed the lighter. 

“Sorry to scare you, thought you saw me.” he told you, but by this point you’d already forgotten. 

“Hm? Oh,” You wrapped an arm under your chest to protect your middle from the air and to prop up your elbow, sipping your cig leisurely. The smoke warmed your lungs. “no sweat. Don’t sweat it,” you mumbled, kicking the ground underneath you to hear your shoe scrape against the concrete. You sniffed, and glanced at him. “Thanks for the light.” He noticed your small smile, and leaned back against the wall. 

“No problem. It seemed like you were having a hard time,” Apparently he’d seen you curse at your watch and your lighter. 

“Yeah,” you scoffed, “I think I’m just ready to go home.”

“What’s keeping you?”

“Nothing, I guess,” You shrugged, rubbing your temple with the hand that held your cig. “Feel like if I go home, I’ll wonder why I didn’t stay. I’ve got that fear of missing out, you know?” You glanced at him after you asked the question, and you caught him looking at you already. You idled, having calmed down from the nicotine rush, you registered who you were speaking with. It hit you how cute this guy was. Dark hair, styled up in disheveled locks. Handsome face, with soft lips and crystal blue eyes. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but you could’ve sworn he glanced at your mouth. 

“I get that,” he said softly, and you inhaled sharply at the sound of his lowered voice. 

You adjusted, mimicking him to rest against the wall, and flicking off the ash from your cig. “What about you? Why are you hiding out here?”

“Not really my scene. I’m just a wingman.” He peered over his shoulder to spy his friend cozying up with the woman he’d been talking to. “Looks like I’m a retired wingman.” He returned his gaze to you, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“‘A wingman’?” you parroted in disbelief, and you looked him up and down. “You?” His lips curled at the question, recognizing it for what it was. A subtle flirt. He gave you a sly look, and to change the subject you offered him the butt end of the cig, “Care for a draw?” He accepted it, your cold hands brushing past one another, and you watched the sharp angle of his jawline as he took a drag. 

“Yeah, believe it or not,” he spoke through the smoke, some curling out from his nose. ���I’ll be heading out soon.” You were still occupied by the butterflies that erupted in your stomach from the brief contact. 

“Shame,” you muttered without realizing, and while he took his second puff he eyed you curiously with a tilt of his head. 

“‘Shame’?”

You rolled with it, since it was too late to back track. “Shame,” You shook your head, listening to the bump of the bass inside shake the apartment. “I was just about to ask you if you wanted to come back in with me for a dance.” 

“Dance, huh?” he said with interest, handing off the roach. The temperature of your skin giving him an idea. “I’m not a big dancer.”

“I bet you’re great, c’mon,” You found yourself wanting him to stay. “Just one, I’ll be really nice even if you make a fool of yourself,” you assured, coaxing him. 

He merely shook his head, “Maybe next time,” It was an empty promise. “Nah, I wanna grab a cup of coffee. You should come with.”

“I’m just saying, I find it hard to believe that out of every animal on the planet you’d wanna be a… porcupine.” 

He eyed you over the rim of his mug, brows furrowed. He hissed when he placed it down. “And I’m just saying, that in a world full of predators, I’m gonna be the guy with the impaling armor.” 

You shimmied in your seat, sizing him up. “You wouldn’t wanna be a predator?” you teased. “Most guys I ask usually go for one of the big cats, gator, rhino, or gorilla—“

“—Those are the most popular options—?” 

“— From the guys I’ve asked, yes!” A smile tugged at his lips from the conversation, and you continued. “It’s science, really.”

“Science?”

“Science. I’m telling you. There’s a psychology to it.” 

“Explain,” He took another sip of his coffee. The diner you two occupied was cool toned, greens and silvers and blues. Empty, except for a gray bearded man in the corner, and the two of you sitting on the bar stools, facing each other. 

“The guys who say they’d be gator, those are the rednecks,” You began, and with fake interest, your companion perked up in his seat, flashing you a wide eyed expression. 

“Yeah?”

“Shut up,” you told him playfully, reaching over to nudge his shoulder. He rested his cheek on his fist, and gestured for you to go on. “So those are gonna be the guys with the camo, they’re from Florida primarily, probably carry without a license.” You listed on your fingers, crossing your legs. “Gorilla guys are the big, buff for no reason— like The Rock-level buff— maybe less. From my research,” He raised his brows at you in feigned intrigue, knowing this was based on nothing but your own observations. “they’re more of the hit-first-ask-questions-later type. Rhinos too, however I think Rhinos are the more husky of the two. Other than that, those have been pretty interchangeable. Now, the cats, that’s where it gets interesting.” He checked his watch and glanced up at you, and you rolled your eyes at his bad joke. “I’m almost done. Lions are the vain type, usually long hair, real pretty boys, probably have a tattoo of one or want a tattoo of one.” Your eyes searched the ceiling, feeling hot under his gaze for talking this long. “Tigers are the serene type, zen, yoga, I’ve-trained-with-a-bo-staff and studied-abroad. Jaguars, usually black jaguars, are the goths. The piercings, the tats, the rockstar hair, skinny jeans, and tight v-necks.” You met his eyes. 

“Done?”

“Mm-hmm,” You sipped your coffee, and added some cream before tasting it again. 

“So what about porcupine guys? What do you think of them?” he asked, downing the last of his drink. You saw how his downturned lips attempted to hide his smile, betraying his eagerness to hear your opinion of him. 

“Pretty cool, I guess.” You pushed out your lips, letting your gaze travel generously this time. “Tall, lanky—“ You noted the shift in his expression, and you revised, “—toned,” You narrowed your eyes, gauging his reaction. When it was satisfactory, you moved on, “Nice hair, pretty eyes. Very cool leather jacket.”

“What about personality?” he interjected, leaning back in his chair, and you were unable to ignore how he spread his knees. 

“Calm,” Was your first thought, and he quieted. “charming, endearing.” Your gazes met, locking eyes as you finished. “Hopelessly alluring.” 

As if to taunt you ever further, your companion inclined into your direction— and marginally you leaned in— but his purpose was to shed his leather jacket, sliding it off of his shoulders. Only encouraging his suspicions of your helpless attraction, you stare unapologetically, mesmerized by his elegant movement, and how close the two of you were. His dirty trick had done its dirty deed, and he folded the jacket within itself, tossing it onto the bar behind him so he could face you in his black turtleneck. One that highlighted his figure that had you wondering if he modeled clothing wear by the way he sported it like it was made for him. You moistened your lips and he glanced down at them, drawn to you like a moth to flame. 

His voice was soft, feather-light and carressed your ears like a saint’s prayer. “So what animal did you choose?” 

Having been lost in such a small and seemingly insignificant disrobing, you were stupefied. You shook your head as if to clear your brain fog, responding dreamily, “What?” 

Since you required reengaging, he crossed his arms and fixed his elbow at the edge of the bar so he could insert himself further into the conversation. Demanding your attention, and begging you to check out how thick his arms looked in his sleeves. “You ask all these guys their philosophical animals so what did you say when they asked you?” 

You flashed a confuddled furrow of your brow. Downturning your lips as you searched the corners of your mind for an answer even when it was doomed to chart a naughty course. “Um…” a single nervous chuckle emitted, “I don’t think anyone’s ever asked, actually.” All of a sudden, you were painfully aware of the kind of men you’ve been wasting your time with. 

Perhaps the self-proclaimed “predators” had a bad streak of being conceited. 

Somehow, he understood your entire thought process, watching your expressions shift. This was noted, but not commented on. “So?” he awaited your answer. 

It took you a second to decide. He had spat his so easy, ready with an explanation as soon as you’d thought up the question. Did he choose a creature based on his preference toward it, or was it just the intelligent answer? 

Did it really matter? It shouldn’t, yet here you were, worrying yourself over what this stranger would think of you. Pick you apart like you so carelessly did to the others in front of him. “I’ve always liked white foxes.” Insecure in your decision and how it shone through in your voice, implied an invitation for him to scrutinize you. You expected it. 

A very slight shift in his expression, how he tilted his head, and his oceanic blue eyes traveling you from head to toe— was unhelpful in easing your nerves. “A white fox,” he hummed, interested, playful. “The storybook archetype of a clever and intelligent creature.” You swallowed. “The symbol of trickery, or luck, depending on your culture.” He bowed his head forward to catch your eye, looking at you through his brows, “Cunning, silver-tongued, and beautiful. However,” The start of his new sentence implied something promising, adjusting in his seat to tap his finger onto the bar. “a white fox suggests you hide something.” 

It refreshed you to hear his thoughts about you. Eloquently stated, without sparing too many details. You hadn’t connected any dots without his assistance, but you were more alike to a white fox than you anticipated. Your famed animal inquiry allowed you a small and idiotic window into how people thought of themselves. Not only had he played your game, but he turned it around on you. 

“Is that a bad thing?” you asked, unable to tear your eyes away from each other. 

“I like a good mystery.” 

[heartfullofleeches]

Fuckboy women when?

(Right now-)

Fuckgirl Yan who claims she only sticks around for the good times and can't be tied down by anyone. Fuckgirl Yan who has tattoos on her chest, arm, and back with your name hidden in every one she wears proudly and wears crop tank tops so everyone can see - but will immediately drop a fling if they point them out or dare to say your name.

Fuckgirl Yan who shows up at your house the ass crack of night when her apartment is much closer to the place she just left, stoned or drunk out of her mind claiming your couch as her territory. Always steals something when she's gone by morning, but never pawns it off like she does with others belongings. Kind enough to remember to order something to leave behind for you when she's craving something your fridge doesn't already have or make breakfast before she heads out

Fuckgirl Yan who shrugs any and everyone off her shoulders when you walk in the room. Fuckgirl Yan who wraps her arms around your wrist or neck when people approach you for conversation. Remembers your name despite forgetting everyone else's when they leave her line of sight, but only ever calls you Baby and into heavy detail about the freaky shit you've definitely done together (most likely a lie) when people ask what your history is

Fuckgirl Yan who despite earlier claims of only being around for the good parts will drop everything and one when she sees a frown on that pretty face of yours. Immediately gets rid of the problem by cracking jokes or breaking fingers if it was some undisclosed third party that got you down

Fuckgirl Yan who lays in someone's bed with their head on her chest, scrolling through the many photos she's sneaked of you and the rare few you took together. Fuckgirl Yan who knows she isn't good for you, but it damn sure feels good to believe in the what-ifs

[timetoletmyimaginationfly]

Maroon

Nanami Kento x Reader

(Song: Maroon by Taylor Swift)

Warning: Smut; not for minors. (This is my first time posting a smut rated story).

He remembered that night so clearly, as if it was yesterday. Being at the bar, drinking with his friends for a quick vacation.

“Check her out!” Gojo exclaimed for the fifth time. Nanami turned to his direction.

He remembered your white, flowy dress that stopped mid-thigh. The maroon lipstick that fit perfect on your skin. You were laughing with a bunch of friends. You went to his direction of the bar. They walked past Gojo, Geto, and Haibara. You were next to him, ordering a drink. Your friends ordered sweet, mixed drinks.

“Moscow mule please!” you ordered excitedly.

“No bourbon?” one questioned.

“Dylan made this last weekend and I’m obsessed at the moment,” you said.

“Oh my gosh! Did he ask you out?” You nodded. “AND?!”

“I said no,” you said. Nanami smiled as he took a drink of his whiskey on the rocks.

“WHY?!”

“He’s just a good friend,” you said nonchalantly and thanked the bartender. “Please, he’s so immature. The man goes from girl to girl. I’m not that kind of girl. I know who I want.”

“He’s just so cute!” You laughed. Your laughter that sounds like music to his ears.

“I’ll agree to that,” you said and took a sip of your drink. “Cheers to graduating!”

“Cheers!!”

Your group stayed by him. You quickly finished your drink, and ordered another.

“Make that two,” Nanami said as he handed the bartender his card. You looked at him with a smile.

“Thank you,” you said. Nanami smiled a small smile back. The drinks arrived immediately and Nanami handed you your glass. He raised a glass up for you and you followed the movements.

“Cheers,” he said. You felt yourself blush.

“Cheers,” you said back and clinked glasses with him before the both of you took a sip of your drinks.

It was pouring rain. You spun around in a circle, taking in the cool feeling of the water mixed with the hot temperature of the summer.

“Kento, dance with me!” you exclaimed, fairly tipsy from your drinks. Nanami chuckled and held your hands. He brought you closer to him and the two of you slowed dance outside. You smiled, resting your head on his chest. His heart fluttered and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Come on,” he said. “We should dry up.” You nodded. “Follow me.” And you did. The two of you took a taxi. You couldn’t help but hold Nanami’s hand throughout the car ride. Nanami looked at you with a soft smile appearing on his face. And you couldn’t help but blush.

The taxi stopped at a hotel, you noticed. Nanami held your hand as you left the vehicle and he held your hand, leading you to the elevators, and then up to his suite.

“You’re not from here,” you said. You thanked Nanami when he handed you a towel. Nanami buttoned his shirt and undid his tie, remaining topless as he dried his body. You blushed hard.

“Tokyo, Japan,” he said. “I left a robe in the bathroom for you. You can shower if you’d like.”

“Kento, are you a spontaneous person?” you asked. Nanami chuckled at your sudden question.

“Not usually,” he said.

“You’re not from here nor am I from this city,” you said. “Shower with me. Let’s make our night unforgettable.” You walked up closer to Nanami as you spoke. Nanami was flustered and you smiled. Your hand rested on the back of his neck as you slightly pushed his head down so his lips met with yours.

There was immediate heat and passion in the kiss. It didn’t take long for the two of you to strip naked before showering together. Your back was up against the cold tiled walls, hands on his shoulders, and your leg hanging on his arm while he teased you. You whimpered at his tease, the tip of his cock rubbing against your sensitive clit and poking at your entrance.

“How badly do you want me, doll?” he whispered seductively in your ear.

“So fucking bad,” you begged. “Fuck me, please Kento.” He locked his lips with yours as he inserted himself inside. Te two of you moaned loudly in the kiss.

“T-Tight,” Nanami muttered with pleasure. With his free arm, he held your hip securely as he thrusted in and out of you. At first it was slow and steady. But the pleasure of your warm and tight walls drove him crazy that he trusted you hard and fast.

“Right there,” you cried in ecstasy as he hit your sensitive spot. You held onto his shoulders tightly, your nails digging into his skin.

“Cum for me, doll,” he said breathlessly. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“Kento!” Your toes curled and your nails scratched his back. The orgasm was close and Nanami is doing a good job to make sure you got it. He would groan in pleasure, feeling your walls hug tightly against his cock while thrusting in and out of you. Your eyes rolled back as you moaned relentlessly when you came all over his cock. Nanami kept thrusting you, riding out your high. He held you tightly as he kissed you.

Nanami turned the shower off. He pulled out a dry towel, helping you dry your body before he did himself. While he did, you dried your hair. But he suddenly carried you out, causing you to drop your towel in the shower as he whisked you off to the bed. He gently laid you down, kissing you passionately. His cock hardening as he teased your entrance again.

“My turn, doll,” he said as he inserted inside your wet pussy again.

Nanami put the newspaper down, deciding to go to the city and surveillance the area. The memory stayed fresh in his mind three months later. He remembered quickly buying you clothes the next morning. He took you out for breakfast and you took him to Central Park for his last day. And he was glad he could end his last night with you in bed.

Communication was scarce. You claimed that you still had to study and the time difference made it difficult to hold conversations. There was no plan to meet up again nor to further anything in this relationship, or whatever the two of you were.

Nanami stopped by at his favorite bakery. He was craving some bread after all. And he needs something to fill his stomach, in case a mission pops up. He thanked the cashier, tipping her a few extra cash that made her thank him happily. Nanami opened the door, taking a bite of the freshly baked bread he just purchased.

“Kento!”

His heart stopped and his body froze. He would never forget the voice. Your voice was angelic and it warmed him. He would feel so relaxed at the sound. But, he wondered if it was just his imagination.

“K-Kento?” And so, he turned around. He dropped the bread in the bag. There you were in the same white dress and maroon lipstick. Just like you wore three months ago. He said your name and you smiled brightly at him. You ran to him and hugged him tightly. Nanami slowly enveloped you in his arms and when he finally realized you were actually here, he held you tighter.

“Are you on vacation?” he asked. You shook your head, smile wider than ever.

“I just moved in,” you answered. “It was a process, especially with the job.”

“W-Why?” He was surprised. Surprised that you would move here. He remembered you talking about moving to New York City or at least close by. He watched you blush.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you,” you said. “It was risky to move here, yet I did it.” Nanami couldn’t hold himself back as he kissed you passionately. Your lipstick smeared and appeared on his lips.

When he pulled away, you had to reconnect your lips with him again. The feeling of his lips faintly remained on yours within the three months. You craved for him everyday. And because the thought of him stuck to you, you took the impulsive decision to move.

Reluctantly, the two of you pulled away and you giggled, wiping the lipstick off his lips.

“Come on. It’s my turn now to show you my city,” he said as his thumb cleaned up the lipstick smear on your face. Immediately, you intertwined your fingers with his. You wrapped your arm around his arm, standing close to him. Nanami smiled, leading you back to the bakery because it is his favorite bakery in the city.

[supercap2319]

"Jesus, Scott! What the hell?" Y/N gasped when Scott's head popped up by his bedroom window. It was around 11 something, and his dad wasn't home, but Stiles was watching a Star Wars marathon in his room.

"Can you let me in? I'm freezing out here." Scott said.

Y/N opens the window, and Scott crawls inside. Scott gets up and smiles shyly as he runs a hand through his hair. "So, you're probably wondering why I showed up?"

"Yeah, I would say that's a fair question. What are you doing here?"

"Well, I was thinking about our date last week. And how I didn't get to do this."

"Do what?" Y/N asked.

"This." Scott, close the distance between them and kissed Y/N on the lips. It was sweet and tender, and everything Y/N wanted in a first kiss.

The sound of something hitting the floor broke them apart as Scott and Y/N turned to see Stiles with his mouth open and the popcorn bowl all over the floor. "What the fuck?!"

[daintylovers]

stiles fucks you with his fingers shoved in your mouth so scott can't hear from downstairs

stiles has to pull off to the side of the road sometimes because there's only one way you'll listen to him- his dick down your throat

stiles eats you out for his enjoyment- which means it really doesn't matter to him when you start getting sensitive and overstimulated. this is for him, not you, so shut up and take it like the good little slut he knows you are

[newtkive]

pixels [ newt x reader - modern text au ]

ch. 2 - drama queen core

summary: minho's drama finally catches up with him, but newt becomes a hero.

warnings: strong language, mutual pining, none really.

➥ m.list

__

THE GLADE

[ 12:08 PM ]

y/n: gm pookies

newt: it’s the afternoon.

y/n: yeah well

ur east coast

newt: so are you y/n

y/n: FINE BAD MORNING THEN ARE U HAPPY?

minho: drama queen is awake

newt: you’re the drama queen min let’s be fr

minho: u want me to die be honest

newt: see .

tommy: hey guys :3 been waiting for you all

y/n: awwww tommy <3 gm

tommy: morning sweetums

minho: ew stop

newt: how did you sleep?

tommy: good! used my new heated pillow

newt: not you

minho: not you

tommy: wtf

WHO THEN?? THERES LIKE 7 OTHER PPL IN HERE

minho: he means y/n

and there’s 4 other people not including newt and y/n dumbass

y/n: oh

why just me????

newt: cuz you stayed up til 6 am

y/n: ..

how do you know that

newt: i saw you were active on discord

gally: doesn’t that mean you were awake too then

newt: ok and?

minho: thats crazy newt

newt: no it isn’t

i just casually saw it

y/n: hehe

im ok i need to sleep more. sims 4 was really consuming me

why were you awake??

newt: up for work

minho: you get on discord before work?

chronically online..

newt: can you choke and pass out and hit your head please

minho: THE WAY U WANT ME DEAD IS INSANE

y/n: he’s gotta check on his discord hoes before hitting the grind

newt: there are no discord hoes

unless you count thomas

and i don’t

tommy: well why not

newt: because you disgust me

tommy: love u too :3<3

minho: y’all about to kiss aren’t you

newt: never say that shit again im outside your door with a b*mb

minho: why censor it

just blow me up it’s my grandmas house anyway. u want to jump her that bad????

gally: blow that bitch up i say

y/n: HELLO???!,!!

gally: minho not grandma

she loves me cuz im so tall

minho: tall people always gotta remind you they’re tall 😒

like we get it bigfoot

gally: shut up tinkerbell

y/n: you’re somewhat tall minho

minho: any man under 6’0 is considered short

y/n: yeah but newt is 6 ft trapped in a 5’10 body so not totally true

newt: what does that even mean

minho: give me a break

i can tell you exactly what that means

she wanna hit

newt: stop

tommy: don’t get his hopes up

newt: dude

stfu

y/n: what newt said

gally: can we appreciate the only one actually over 6 ft here

minho: no.

tommy: im the same height as newt!!!!

y/n: yea but ur like 3 ft trapped in a 5’10 body tommy not the same

tommy: oh ..

minho: kind of real

newt: can someone kick gally i’m tired of seeing his fucking name on my phone

gally: then turn your phone off don’t you have old ladies to tend to at the library

newt: yeah and they all love me

y/n: so real

if i was old i’d go in there and imagine you’re my young boyfriend and cling to everything u say

tommy: true im the old ladies

y/n: LMAO

minho: write a fanfic y/n why don’t you

newt: yeah you both are old and not beating the dementia allegations

y/n: IM THE YOUNGEST HERE

ur just mad you’re old as dirt

tommy: youth has left you newt and it has turn you bitter in your old age.

minho: thomas knows big words who knew

newt: which word in that sentence was big??

y/n: shut up minho

minho: wtf did i do

y/n: idk but i imagine you sitting there typing on your little phone and i got pissed

minho: WHAT???!.‘wKWHFO

newt: LMAOOOOOOOOOOO

yeah chubby little fingers hitting the wrong letters on his iphone 8

minho: im leaving

tommy: dont leave i forgive you for what you said

minho: i don’t give a damn

y’all mad y’all are all fake im the realest i’ve been prophesizing and reading scriptures 7000 years before y’all fake asses were born be so for real right now

y/n: not reading that

congrats

or sorry for what happened idk

about to drink my coffee in a wine glass

tommy: just drink wine

newt: it’s noon tommy??

tommy: ok and?

newt: explains a lot

minho: no coffee for me this new year only water and pussy juice fr fr

[ newt removed minho from the group ]

tommy: woah

y/n: woah..

newt: i can’t take it anymore

alby: How did you get that access..?

newt: don’t worry about it

in times of need i have to step in like that

y/n: hi alby!

alby: Hey y/n!

tommy: you’re such a hero newt

gally: that was deserved

who wants to play minecraft rn

y/n: me!!

alby: I’ll play, I’m off work today.

y/n: let’s go to the desert i want a camel

gally: alright but then the caves after i wanna mine

newt: if you mine with her you gotta bring extra food and storage when she dies so you can pick up the fallen items

gally: i forget you’re her designated babysitter

y/n: oh please no he isn’t

and i’ll bring my own food

newt: you always say that and then leave it in the stove oven

y/n: WELL I WONT THIS TIME

newt: sure ok

i’ll get on after work

[ alby added minho to the group ]

minho: when i get you.

newt: why did you add him back alby

alby: He was harassing me.

newt: be a man and take it

gally: im leaving

[ gally left the group ]

minho: im going to throw up and die

newt: im staying out of this

minho: (guy who caused it) im staying out of this

y/n: why does gally alwyas leave 😔

newt: why question a gift from the heavens

tommy: get online y/n gally is attacking my dirt house w a pickaxe :((((

y/n: NO IM COMING

minho: im coming to your work newt

newt: okay im locking the door early then

minho: i’ll smash through the glass idc

newt: i’m leaving my shift is over at 1 today.

minho: i’ll use life360 on you

newt: i deleted that app

minho: i’ll stand in the middle of the street

newt: ok let me position my car in front of you

just come to my apartment and we can play w them on pc and xbox

minho: …. fine but i hate your guts

newt: fine

y/n: HURRY GALLY IS ATTACKING MY SHED NOOOOWWW

newt: i’ll just rebuild it

minho: i’ll set it on fire just wait

[harringtonstilinski]

Mastermind - Richie Boyle (Smut)

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Richie Boyle x Reader Word Count: 2,691 Warnings: fluff Smut: no | yes; fingering Requested: Yes! I hope it meets your expectations, anon friend!​​​ A/N: Hi, friends! After not posting for Richie for ages, I'm finally getting one out! I think this is the shortest smut piece I've ever written, lol. BUT, I hope you like this! If you do, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

May 1956. The biggest month of your life. Your third date with Richie Boyle was this month. The two of you had met at Burling’s when you were getting your father’s suit back from being tailored. 

After Leonard had handed you your father’s suit, you turned to walk back through the entry where Mable sat, only to crash into Roy Boyle’s son. He held you steady with a hand on your back, asking if you were okay, and from then on, you and Richie had a thing going.

He had brought you to his home the night of your second date to meet father, the Irish Mob Boss, Roy Boyle. Everyone was taught to fear ol’ Roy because of his background, but he showed you nothing but kindness and welcomed you into his home with open arms. Ever since then, you were an honorary member of the Boyle family.

But, tonight was a very special night. Richie had told you that he had something special planned and to dress casually but nice. Since the only thing you really wore was skirts, you opted for a black, knee length one with a pink top and your black and white Oxford shoes. 

Your hair was down and in curls that were in style. As you were touching your curls up, you heard a knock coming from the front door, so you hurried as quickly and elegantly as you could before grabbing your purse, your coat and gloves, putting your coat and purse on as you walked briskly to the door, opening it after putting on one of your gloves.

Smiling, you looked at how handsome Richie looked in his suit. “Hi, Richie.”

“Hi, beautiful,” he replied. “Damn. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you said, your cheeks warming a little. “You look handsome as ever.”

“Thanks, doll.”

The nickname that made your knees weak. 

“You ready?” Richie asked.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you smiled, putting on the other glove. 

Richie put his arm out to the side, letting you walk in front of him after you locked and shut your door. Being the gentleman that his father raised him to be, he made himself home on your right, blocking the traffic from you in case something were to happen.

The movie theater wasn’t far from your home; a couple of blocks at most. Richie had it all planned out, and executed part of his plan on his walk to get you. He put his arm around you as you walked before saying, “Listen, doll, I was thinking; maybe we'll catch a later show and go get some dinner.”

You happily groaned, carefully leaning your head back on his shoulder as to not mess your curls up. “I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since lunch.”

“No snacks?”

“Nope. I was too busy getting ready to think about food.”

The two of you hadn’t really had your first kiss as a couple yet. The closest your lips got to each other were your cheeks. So when you looked up at Richie, your heart beat just a little bit faster as he looked down at you and smirked before kissing your forehead.

Nevertheless, you smiled and looked forward, seeing a couple put their heads down and scoot to the other side of the sidewalk. The action made you sigh in defeat.

“What’s the matter, doll?” Richie asked.

“I just don’t like seeing people cower at seeing you or your father,” you answered, honestly. “It makes me sad.”

“I know. But that’s the way my family works.”

Looking back up at him, you said, “Please tell me it won’t be like that if we have a family one day.”

Richie looked down at you, seeing the worry in your eyes, and smirked. “I promise. Besides, I think Francis will take over and kick me out of my own family.”

“I’ll have to hurt him, then,” you said, a small smile on your own face.

Turning the both of you towards the door of both of your favorite Italian restaurant, Richie asked, “And how do you plan on doin’ that?”

“Kick him in his family jewels.”

The two of you chuckled as you walked inside, the host quickly grabbing two menus and leading you to Richie’s normal table. What struck you as odd as the three of you passed the tables, was seeing Mable there, looking sad and uncomfortable at seeing the two of you together.

You decided to ask Richie about after the host left the table once Richie helped you in your chair. “Hey, Richie?”

“Yeah, doll?” he asked, looking at his menu, already knowing what he wanted.

“Was there something between you and Mable before I came along? She’s here and looked quite upset.”

Sighing, Richie set the menu down, lacing his fingers together before placing his arms on the table. “Yes. I couldn’t get you off my mind after our first meeting, so I broke things off with her a couple of weeks later. I waited about two months before asking you on our first date.”

“Such a gentleman,” you replied, sarcastically. 

“You’ve seen how my Pops is with me and Francis. Treats that son of a bitch like he’s his goddamn son.”

You flinched at his use of language, something you weren’t used to yet.

“Sorry, doll,” he apologized. “But the one good thing about him is that he treats you like the daughter he’s always wanted.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” you smiled, holding your water glass up to take a small sip.

When the waiter showed up at the table with Richie’s favorite appetizer, he voiced that our meals would be out shortly, to which Richie thanked him for. 

He looked at you, a chuckle sounding from his throat at the disgusted look on your face. “What?”

“I still can’t believe you eat calamari.”

Just then, the waiter returned, setting a plate in front of you, profusely apologizing. “I am so sorry, Mr. Boyle. It won’t happen again.”

“It’s fine,” you answered. “Thank you.” You smiled up at the waiter, seeing a bead of sweat fall to his eyebrow from his hairline. 

He quickly smiled at you before darting off to the kitchen. 

Looking at Richie, you knew the look he was wearing all too well. “Oh, stop it, Richie. It was an accident. Maybe they didn’t have it ready when yours was. I mean, you do come here alone sometimes. Maybe they didn’t think you’d have someone with you.”

“Then why would they get two menus?”

“Rich,” you said, softly. Using the nickname only you were allowed to use, aside from his mother before she passed. “It’s fine. Don’t cause a scene.”

Richie relented, looking down at your plate. “Tomato and bruschetta?”

Holding one out for him, you smiled and said, “Here, try it.”

“Try the calamari first.”

“I have. I had a bad batch once. Turned me off of it forever.”

“Where from?” Richie asked.

Waving him off, you answered, “This little diner I used to work at. I actually think your dad used to stop by a lot.”

You looked at him while taking a bite of your food, seeing a look of confusion and thoughtfulness on his face. Snorting lightly, you covered your mouth with your hand. “What’s with the look?”

“Pops never stopped by any diner. Not that- wait, the one off West Randolph?” He pointed his fork at you in recollection. “The sock-hop one.”

Nodding with a smile on your face, you answered, “The Soda Hop.” You set your bruschetta down, covering your mouth while you laughed. “Such a cheesy name.”

Richie joined you in your laughter, essentially agreeing with you about the name when the waiter showed back up, bringing out Richie’s order of a roast chicken with his favorite sides, as well as your order. 

The two of you dug into your meals, laughing and chatting while you ate. When dessert came, you thought you were going to bust, but as you were walking along the sidewalk with your arm wrapped around Richie’s, everything seemed to fall into place.

To say that you were falling in love with Richie was an understatement. You were in love with him the moment you bumped into him at Burling’s. You’re thankful that your father sent you instead of going himself.

As you and Richie approached the theater, you stopped him and turned to face him. “Please tell me this is just a normal date on a normal night watching a normal movie.”

Richie took half a step closer to you, placing his hand gently against your cheek, your head tilting into his touch. “Of course it is, doll. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because you’re Richie Boyle, and knowing you, you probably bought out the whole theater for only us.” You felt him stiffen slightly at that.

“Richieeeeee,” you groaned.

“I just wanted it to be special,” he said, softly.

“It would’ve been special even if it was packed full of people, babe.”

Chuckling, his eyes cast down to your lips before looking back into your eyes. “Wouldn’t be special with what I have planned for us, beautiful.”

Your core clenched at his words. The two of you hadn’t reached that part in your relationship yet, and you felt ready. You just weren’t sure if Richie was ready for that part. Well, you actually did know that he was ready. It was just a matter of time before either of you made a move in those regards.

“Come on,” Richie said, putting his arm around your shoulders. “Let’s go enjoy this movie.”

You didn’t know which movie he had picked, so to say that you were excited was an understatement as the two of you walked up to the snack counter, where Richie ordered the two of you a couple of Cokes before you two went into the theater.

Finding your seats was easy as Richie had suggested the seats in the dead center of the room. Smiling as you sat down, you looked at your boyfriend, watching as he took off his coat and hat, setting them into the seat next to him before finally finding a purchase beside you on his own.

You could feel that something big was going to come out of tonight, whether it was him ending the night in your bed, or you in his, but as he laced his fingers with yours, pulling your knuckles to his lips, you didn’t care where the night ended… as long as it ended with him.

The film that the two of you were watching was titled The Man in the Gray Flannel Suit. You had absolutely no idea what it was about, but you sat through the first quarter of the movie, eyes glued to the screen as you tried to follow along with the story line.

When you felt Richie’s lips on your knuckles again, you looked over at him, watching as he kissed his way down your hand and up your arm. As his eyes locked on yours, you couldn’t help the feeling that came over you as you leaned towards him, and he to you, your lips locking in your very first kiss as a couple. 

As your lips moved in sync, you didn’t register his hand moving to your inner thigh, slowly pulling your skirt up to your mid-thigh before gliding his fingers back up your inner thigh to where you wanted him most.

“Richie,” you moaned, softly.

“Yeah, babydoll?” he asked. You could hear that stupid smirk on his face as he spoke. “What do you want?”

Resting your head on his shoulder as he barely skimmed your clothed core, you quietly whined, “You,” before looking back at him. “I want you.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Softly kissing his lips, you breathed out a sigh before whispering, “Touch me. Please.”

He looked around at the exit points for any of the employees before looking up into the projection booth, seeing a body disappear out of sight before the booth’s door and exit doors closed, leaving the two of you alone.

Richie looked back to you, seeing an already fucked out look on your face. “Damn, baby. Fuckin’ needy already, huh?” He turned his body more toward you, moving his hand from your aching core to your knee, spreading your legs a little further apart, your skirt rising up more at the action.

Bringing his hand back to your center, his eyes locked onto his hand as he rubbed and down with two fingers before looking back at your face, your eyes shut at the small amount of pleasure he was giving you. “Do you want more, baby?”

Nodding your head, you whined a little louder than before. “Please.” You opened your eyes at the feel of your panties being moved to the side, Richie’s fingers gliding up your center, spreading your lips apart to reveal more of you to him.

You’d had sex with other men, sure, but none of them made you as wet as Richie did. 

“Damn, babydoll,” he whispered, eyes moving from your wet core to your eyes. “This all for me?”

You nodded your head again, your bottom lip between your teeth. A moan escaped your throat as you watched him put his fingers into his mouth, lapping up the arousal he had gathered, a satisfied groan coming from his own throat.

Bringing his fingers out of his mouth, he said, “You taste amazing, baby,” before bringing his fingers back to your center, a single digit sliding into you with ease, pumping a few times to elicit a long and loud moan from you before bringing said digit to your clit, where started to rub your nub in circles.

“You like that, babydoll?” he asked. “You like me playing with your clit?”

Your answer came in the form a loud moan, your head tossing back slowly, the pleasure starting to course through you as he moved his finger down to your entrance, circling your arousal a few times before inserting two fingers into your heat, his thumb attaching to your clit where he rubs circles in time with the pace he was setting his fingers.

“Damn, babydoll, you’re makin’ me hard,” he whispered, watching as your hips rolled in time with his fingers, the pressure in your belly starting to form.

Picking your head up, you looked at Richie, one of your eyebrows up and the other furrowed in pleasure. “Please, don’t stop Rich.” You took a breath to speak, but your words were cut off by a groan of pleasure. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

Richie almost stopped all movements of his hand at hearing you say the word fuck. “My little innocent girlfriend said the word fuck. I’m corrupting you.”

“Shut the fuck up and make me cum,” you replied, your body bouncing with the movements of your hips. Once you felt the coil in your tummy was about to snap, you tossed your head back again, saying, “Faster, Rich. I’m gonna cum.”

Doing as you asked, Richie pumped his fingers a little faster, a yelp sounding from you as he pumped his fingers a little harder than he anticipated.

“Oh, my god,” you groaned. “Do that again. Do that a-” The word died on your tongue as Richie pumped his fingers harder into your core, the coil snapping without warning, your pussy pulsing against his fingers.

Slowly working you through your orgasm, Richie couldn’t help but watch as you tilted your head back up, looking him in the eyes. When he was sure your high was over, he pulled his fingers from you, putting his fingers back into his mouth. “Fuck, you’re incredible,” he moaned after pulling his clean fingers from his mouth.

He readjusted your panties and skirt, your legs back in their proper place. Once your head was resting against his shoulder with your hand around his arm, you sighed in content, noticing the movie was almost over with.

Looking up at him, you smiled. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Once he looked down at you, he smiled back and asked, “For what?” “The best night of my life… you little mastermind.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N 2: let me know what you thought!

Additional Note: i hope i did richie justice! 

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24​​​​​​ @stixnstripesworld​​​​​​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​​​​​​ @quanticobae​​​​​​ @mischiefandi​​​​​​ @kellyashcroft​​​​​​ @lauren-novak​​​​​​​ @good-vibes-and-glitter​​​​​​

Posted on January 31, 2024