sighs because true

Reconnecting (Dylan O'Brien x Reader)

A/N: this one is completely inspired by Dylan being in SA because I’m in SA rn


Warnings: angst, smut smuttty smut


Pairings: Dylan O'Brien x Reader, Andrew Garfield x Reader (Platonic)

***

“You don’t need me anymore.”


The words left your mouth as thought they were a simple fact, without implication or emotion. Dylan wondered how you could do that - how you could keep your voice so calm when your words had shattered his reality from where you stood, the table between the two of you acting as a physical and metaphorical barrier.


“How can you say that?” He asked, his eyes painted an angry red and his hands shaking. You sighed deeply.


“Because it’s true.” You replied simply, and Dylan continued to stare at you in shock. He made a move to reach out and grab your arm, but you side stepped him. “No. Come on. Don’t do that. You know it is. We’ve been over for a long time now Dyl. We’ve just been too scared to do anything about it.”


He let out a laugh that was anything but humorous. A hand flew to his head, where he tugged on his hair in frustration. “Is that what you think happened between us? That’s what you think we’ve been reduced to? Just a pair of morons who were once in love but now too scared to leave each other?”


His words felt like a slap to the face but you didn’t allow it to show. There was a long beat of silence and when he realised you didn’t have a response, smiled bitterly.


Suddenly, he slammed his fists down on the table so hard, it made you jump. “Answer me!”


But you couldn’t. You couldn’t give him a straight answer, not after hearing the way his voice broke. You couldn’t give him an answer, knowing deep down that you weren’t being honest with neither him nor yourself.


“That’s not what we are.” Dylan said quietly, his voice dropping to a sound barely above a whisper. He looked into your eyes with something truly desperate within his own. “You have to know that, baby. This can’t be it. I- I love you too much to let you go.”


Dyaln dropped his head, squeezing his eyes shut. You wanted to run, to get as far away from his little apartment as possible. Because you knew that if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be able to hold your ground. If you stayed here any longer, your resolve would break and you would *never* be able to truly walk away.


“I refuse to believe that that’s what we’ve come to.” When he looked at you again, Dylan had tears streaming openly down his face. His eyes were bloodshot red and his fists gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles went white. He leaned further on the coffee table, as though he was barely keeping himself upright.


“We’re so much more than that.” He told you with such conviction, you believed it to be true. “We aren’t one of those couples who are gonna grow to resent each other regret it.” Before you could stop him, Dylan had crossed the table and taken your face in his hands, cradling it gently.


You didn’t realise you we’re crying until he wiped away a tear.


“(Y/N) we’re forever. We’re the old couple who sit bickering on the front porch but love each other anyway. We’re the ones people look at and think ‘are they still together’ because fuck yeah we are. We’re the couple that’s gonna dance to out song when we’re seventy and can barely move. Baby, we’re infinite.”


“That’s a nice story.” You said, wrapping your fingers around his wrists and pulling his hands off of you. “But it’s not ours - it can’t be. Our story ends here. I’m so sorry Dylan.”


And with those final words, you grabbed the handle of your bag and walked out of your shared apartment, closing the door behind you.


You knew he wouldn’t follow you out - he respected your choices enough not to.


You knew that he wouldn’t talk shit about you once you were gone - he loved you too much to do so.


And you knew that once you got on that plane to your new acting gig in London, he wouldn’t follow you because he thought that you didn’t love him any more.


***

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” The flashes of the paparazzi’s cameras were enough to blind, even through the thick lenses of your sunglasses. It was inevitable. You had recently filmed a new movie with Andrew Garfield and it was set to be a booming success. As a result you had to deal with a ridiculous amount of rumors about your personal life and his.

“Come on (Y/N)! Smile for the camera!” One yelled.

“Congratulations on the engagement!”

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Have you and Andrew picked a venue yet?”


You continued to ignore them as you made your way through the airport. You’d arranged for your luggage to be taken care of to avoid mass hysteria and you knew that a car would be waiting outside for you, in a predetermined location.


When you got there, a huge grin overtook your face.


“I thought you were still in Australia!” You said happily, making your way over to the Ford.


“Wanted to surprise you, as all.” Said Andrew, looking just as glad. You laughed and thanked him as you got in the passenger seat.


You and Andrew Garfield had become good friends over the duration of filming. It wasn’t your first movie together and you knew for a fact that it wouldn’t be your last. Although the two of you had pointedly decided not to take your relationship further than the occasional fuck (Andrew was still hung up over Emma), you shared a close relationship with him.


Andrew understood what it was like to have to leave the love of your life. He knew that sometimes, you just needed someone to cuddle up to, or fuck you senseless until you forgot why you were upset in the first place.


You didn’t know what to call your relationship with Andrew, but you relied upon him a great deal to keep you going and vice versa.


“When was the last time you were in South Africa?” Andrew asked, eyes focused on the road.


“Um, about two years ago.” You said, pointedly deciding to forget how awkward it had been when you returned to see Julia and met Brit for the first time. “Last you were here was to film Hacksaw Ridge, right?”


“Yeah.” He shrugged. “There are some places I wanna check out before I leave. I’m leaving tonight for the Oscars on Sunday, and you’ll have to excuse me for saying I’m pretty exhausted from all the flying every other day with you.”


“Fuck you.” You said playfully. “I’m awesome to travel with.” The press tour for your movie ended in California where you would give your last interview together on Ellen before the premier and then it was over but that was only next week. For now, you were here in Cape Town.


“I beg to differ.” Andrew said. “But I will agree with you on the first part.”


You shrugged, not questioning it. Andrew would sometimes have these days when, out of nowhere, he’d become extremely in need of physical affection or emotional support. You never called him out on it because you were almost always the same.


“My place.” You said. “I wanna check out the new hotel.”


Andrew shrugged and agreed, but your new hotel wasn’t the first stop. He took you out for lunch, insisting that airplane food wasn’t real food because ‘For the love of God, (Y/N), it tastes like dirt!’ Afterwards, you went for a quick walk on the beach, during which your jeans became filled with sand and uncomfortable.


“I didn’t even get a chance to swim.” You pouted, walking in through the door that Andrew held open for you. He laughed as he removed his shoes.


“Well it was your genius idea to go in waist deep while fully clothed.” He said, pulling off his still wet shirt and throwing it in the hamper in one of the rooms.


“Do we have a pool?” You asked, walking further around the room. You reached the glass doors of the patio and smiled. “We have a pool!”


“Really?” Andrew asked, walking up to you. He had taken off his shirt and undershirt as well as his jeans, leaving him bare from the waist up with only a pair of black boxer briefs cladding his modesty. “Guess it’s your lucky day.”


You didn’t feel self conscious at all, having to taken your shirt out in front of him. He’d seen it all a thousand times before. You stripped down until you were standing in your undies and made a dive for the pool.


You went in head first and the water was the perfect tempreture. As you swam to the surface, you heard the unmistakable sound of Andrew screaming obnoxiously before feeling rather than seeing him canon ball in.


When you broke the surface, you were met with his grinning face.


“What?” You asked, a hand instinctively wiping at you face. Andrew laughed, not unkindly.


“You’re beautiful.” He said simply. You grinned, swimming the shirt distance between you two and resting your arms on his shoulders.


“What’s wrong?” You asked, because as surprising as Andrew’s bursts of affections were, they were never random.


“She’s met someone.” He said with the utmost care in his voice, which made you grip his shoulders tighter. “I’m happy for her. I am. Truly. I just thought that it would be someone different. Someone who deserves her, you know?”


“Andrew Garfield not liking Emma Stone’s knew boyfriend.” You said teasingly, “Who’d have thought?”


“Oh, shut it.” He said, looking down at you. The words went unspoken, but you knew what he needed. “Are you comfortable with this?” Andrew asked and you nodded, knowing that with being back here your recent dip into loneliness, you needed it too. “You don’t have to do this.”


“I know.” You mumbled, leaning in close towards him. From here, you could see how tall he was. He was standing on his flat feet and the water barely reaached his upper arms. You, meanwhile, were holding on to him to stop from drowning.


“I need this too.” You told him, running a hand over his shoulders before pulling him in close. Without hesitace, you tilted your head up and met Andrew’s lips in a heated kiss.


He let out a sigh, his hands moving to your thighs to lift you up and wrap your legs around his waist. You moaned into his mouth as he walked you backwards through the water until he had you seated on the second step, kneeling down between your legs with the water flowing around you.


You pressed your lips to his heatedly and felt his tongue swipe against your lower lips. Feeling teasing, you kept your lips just the way they were and sucked onthe tip of his tongue when he tried to force his way in.


“Tease.” Andrew said, pulling away to catch his breath. You didn’t get a chance to replied because he had grabbed your ass roughly, causing you to let out a moan of surprise. He seized the opportunity and slid his tongue into your mouth before your lips had even connected.


“You love it.”


***


Three hours later, you awoke to find yourself cold and alone, lying naked on your bed. Memories of your time with Andrew flooded through your mind and you smiled slightly, hugging the sheets to your body.


You couldn’t, however, help but feel a wave of loneliness wash over you. Here you were, in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, waking up alone and with no one to share it with. Sure, you had Andrew but it just wasn’t the same.


The last five years of you life had been lonley, despite your success. Of course, you did have a few boyfriends here and there, but never anyone real, never anyone you’d truly felt a deeper connection with.


Never anyone like Dylan…


You forced the thought out of your head and stood up, making your way to the kitchen. You were staying at the One&Only Cape Town hotel, where you had the most magnificent view of the ocean from your window. Right now, with the sun slowly setting and the reflection of the stars on the water, you felt completely at peace.


A small something of white caught your attention from the corner of your eye. It was a note on the fridge. Walking up and reading it, you realised it was from Andrew.


Sorry, had to run. Talking to J.J. about my contact. Meet me tonight at the Era Night Club (call a fucking Uber you lazy shit) and look pretty. Bringing friends.

-Andy


Reading the note once more, you shrugged and glanced at the clock. It was almost 8 and while Andrew didn’t specify a time, you knew he probably wouldn’t expect you before 10 or 11. Going on an impulse, you quickly cleaned up a bit and put on some clothes, deciding to go shopping.


The centre wasn’t far from where you were staying but you called an Uber anyway. In the rush of Andrew getting you here, you hadn’t bothered to pick up a rental, so that was your only means of getting around.


It was there, in that tiny little Colette store, that shit hit the fan.


You were going through items on the rack, looking for something to possibly wear tonight. Your hand stopped on a cute black number, and you grinned, humoring yourself and pulling out the leather dress that left very, very, very little to the imagination.


Holding the piece over your body, you looked up at the mirror, which ran along every wall and almost dropped your basket.


Standing there, staring at you with the most shocked look on his face, was Dylan O-fucking-Brien.


For a long moment neither of you spoke. You stared at him, watching a range of emotions flicker across his face (you were almost certain the same thing was happening to you) before he plastered on a smile and approached you.


Immediately you lowered the dress, wondering if you still smelt like sex from earlier. Dylan stood in front of you, smiling gently and you heart rate began to pick up, panic overtaking your body.


“Hey.” He said calmly, hands tucked into the front pocket of his jeans. You smiled back, a bit nervously.


“H-Hi.” You replied, taking a moment to look him over. Obviously he was older, considering the last time you had seen him was almost three years ago, but it wasn’t that. He looked tired, sick even. “Are you okay?”


Dylan’s smile faltered slightly before he stood up a little straighter. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He said lightly, and you too fixed your posture. “How’s it been going with you? Heard you’re dating that Garfield guy.”


“We’re friends.” You smiled, but it felt absolutely fake. You hated this; hated how this was some kind of battle of wills where neither could show any weakness. “How are you and Brit doing?”


Again, his smile faltered but returned stubbornly. “We’re awesome. I mean why wouldn’t we be? It’s not like I don’t need her anymore.”


You physically winced, both at his words and at the tone with which they were said. Low fucking blow, you thought. Immediately, regret filled you ex’s eyes and he cleared his throat. “Sorry, that was-”


“It’s fine.” You said because you honestly didn’t give a fuck. You couldn’t meet his eye when you spoke again. “I’m happy for you, Dyl. I’m really glad you found someone.”


You put the bag and dress down, spinning on your heels and making a b-line for the door. “(Y/N) wait-” you heard Dylan call out after you, but you very pointedly ignored it.


When you finally stopped walking to wipe your eyes, you were already outside of the mall. You looked ahead at the calm, settled ocean outside and screamed into your hands.


***

By the time Andrew rolled around, you were back in bed, snuggling up with Mr Pickle, your stuffed Teddy, and cleaning out a tub of Ben & Jerry’s.


“I thought I told you to meet me at the club,” he said, walking through the doors. You looked up at him and immediately he was at your side. “What happened?”


“Ran into Dylan today.” You said, voice sounding bitter. “Had a lovely little chat.” Andrew didn’t say anything; he simply wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you in close.


You clutched onto him like a lifeline and began sobbing into his shirt. Andrew stiffened. “Imma kill the bastard.” He promised, tucking you in closer and gently drawing circles on the small of your back.


“I- I’m sorry,” You said, face still buried into his chest. “I’m being stupid. Haven’t seen the guy in three years and the first thing I do is make a sodding fool of myself.”


“Hey, shh,” Andrew cooed gently. “Come on love, don’t say that. You panicked.” He pulled back, wiping the tears under your eyes with his thumbs. “It’s okay now. You’re here, and safe and you never have to see the bloody moron again. Understand?”


You nodded quietly, and Andrew pulled himself completely on the bed. You shifted so that your limbs could entwine and he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.


Suddenly, you remembered why he was here in the first place.


“The club.” You said, sitting up. Andrew laughed.


“We’re not going.” He said and you gave him an odd look. “Not with you so heartbroken.”


You thought about it for a minute, remembering that you only had tonight and tomorrow morning left to spend with Andrew before he left for the Oscar’s. “I wanna.” You said. “I want to go, to get my mind off of things.”


He looked hesitant. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”


“Come on.” You said. “This is your last and only day here, and I know you’ve spent all of it sight seeing. One last stop before tomorrow night.”


He watched you with a careful expression before sighing and nodding. Untangling himself from your cuddle, he stood at full length and helped you up.


“Go on then.” He said. “Get dressed.”


You shot him a scandalized look, pretending that you hadn’t been crying moments ago. “With you standing right there?” He grinned, but you could still see the hesitance in his eyes.


“Ain’t nothing I haven’t seen before.” You gasped loudly and he chuckled. “Okay, I’m going. Hurry up.”


He left and you paused, wondering what to wear for the evening. Quickly, you eyes the Victoria’s Secret shopping bag with the Gucci one next to it. Well, a girl could always use a pick up.


Less than twenty minutes later you were dressed and looking gorgeous. You had on a tight, black dress that showed just the right amount of skin, with a set of sexy red VS underneath (for a bit of a confidence boost, you told yourself)


“Damn.” Andrew said when he saw you. He had straightened out his shirt and, now that you took the time to notice, looked absolutely delectable. “I should fuck you against the wall right now.”


Heat flushed over your face. “Maybe later, gorgeous.” You said, grabbing a clutch and bending down to pick up your wallet, knowing that it gave you friend a full view of your ass. “Let’s go.”


Andrew licked his lips but nodded nevertheless. The two of you set off to The Era and made it there within a few minutes. Immediately, Andrew led you to the front of the queue where you were let in, no questions asked.


The place was booming and full. The loud bass echoed in you ear as Andrew sat you down at the bar and ordered two shots of Tequila. Lights flashed purple and pink and blue, and you saw the way your teal heels glowed in the blue light of the club.


“This place looks awesome.” You told your friend as he handed you a shot. The two of you quickly drowned it.


“It’s supposed to be.” He yelled back over the loud music. “Dance with me.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be meeting your friends here?” You asked, and he smiled cheekily.


“Well, they’re not nearly as gorgeous as you.”

You grinned and stood, making your way to the dance floor and swaying your hips the way you knew he like it. Andrew laughed, but when he came up to you, his eyes were filled with lust.


You danced to the rhythm smoothly, loving the way your hips moved with his. Over the course of the next few hours, you had more and more to drink and soon you were on the dance floor once more, but it wasn’t with Andy.


“Wanna go back to my place?” The guy you were dancing with (James? Alex?) asked in a sultry voice. You grinned at him.


“No.” You giggled, completely pissed “I’m not supposed to go home with strangers.”


“Well I’m sure we can make an exception.” He said and suddenly his hands were roughly grabbing your ass as he made a dive for your lips. You protested against his mouth, but he either didn’t hear you or didn’t care as his tongue tried to pass your lips.


Suddenly, he was being pulled off you and your racing heart plummeted. “Fuck off.” A voice said, and fear filled your heart as a second man stood in front of you. You made a move to step back, to get away as quick as possible, but the man was faster.


He estimated your moves and quickly grabbed a hold of you, almost pushing you away from the crowd of people. You struggled against him, but he was too strong and held on to you too tightly as he pushed out of the back door of a club.


You blinked, doing your best to slow down your heart rate and have a rational thought. Your mind began to swin as you looked around, realizing that you were now in a back alley. You needed to get out, now.


“Are you okay?”


You jumped, both from the unexpected question and the hand that now gently rested on your back. In the light of the alley way, you could now see the face of your attacker and let out a sigh of relief.


“Dylan.” You said, as if to confirm that he was real. With a drop of your head, you took a deep breath. “It- it’s you. You. I’m- it’s you.” The panic began to slowly leave your body as you squeezed your eyes shut, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up whole.


“(Y/N),” he placed a warm hand on your bare arm and suddenly, you realized just how cold it was. “What were you-” he cut himself off, seemingly thinking better than to ask. “Come on. Let’s get you home, okay?”


You nodded, eyes glued to your feet. You felt completely ashamed of yourself, and as your sobriety returned, so did your disgrace. The reality of the situation hit you hard, and you wished nothing more than to disappear, or maybe get hit by a bus.


“Did you come here yourself?” Dylan asked, his voice gently. Your head began to each and you didn’t meet his eyes when you answered.


“With Andrew.” You said simply. Dylan took a deep breath, and finally you looked up to see a mixture of anger and hesitance and, most dominantly, fear in his brown eyes.


“Where is he now?” You shrugged, but you were pretty sure he’d run away to get his rocks off with some red headed girl. “Forget it. You can text him. I’ll drive.”


You nodded and Dylan lead you back into the club. You couldn’t help yourself; quickly, you reached for his hand and gripped it tight, making your way through the crowd. The only indication that he’d even noticed was a small moment of hesitance before he carried on.


The drive to the hotel was deadly silent. You barely raised your head, too ashamed of what happened to say a word. Dylan had opened his mouth to say something twice, but nothing came out.


“One & Only.” Dylan announced when the car came to a stop. “Someone told me it’s really amazing.”


You looked up, opening your mouth to thank him before realizing something. “Shit.” You said instead and Dylan raised a brow.


“Not that.” A flush covered your face. “I left my bag at the club. I- I’ve got my phone, but my key card was in there. They’re gonna give me hell at the front desk.”


You promptly clamped your mouth shut. “Fuck it. I’m so sorry about all of this. I- I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been there tonight. So, um thanks.”


Quickly, you made a move for the handle of the door but Dylan’s voice stopped you. “Wait.” He said and you turned to look at him. He looked uncertain, but there was no lie in his voice when he spoke. “You’ve had a shit night and I’m sure you don’t want to deal with more drama. You can stay at my hotel tonight. Deal with all this tomorrow.”


'I don’t want your pity’ you wanted to snap, but honestly the thought of having a warm bed to crawl in to was far more comforting. “Thank you.” You said instead, and Dylan started up the car again.


The drive to his hotel is spent in silence as well, but it felt a lot less tense.


“What were you doing?” Dylan finally asked, five minutes into the drive. You sighed, looking out the window. “I’m serious (Y/N). I thought you were smarter than that.”


“Well, I guess a lot can change in five fucking years.” You snapped, then immediately felt guilty for it and sealed your mouth. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”


After a beat, Dyaln spoke again. “I’m sorry. I’m being a dick.” He said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “It’s just,- God the way that guy was looking at you. I thought he was gonna strip you down and fuck you raw right then and there.” You grinned in spite of yourself, and pretended to not hear Dylan’s quiet mumble of 'That’s what I would’ve done’.


A laugh left your lips. “First day here and I’m already making stories to tell my grandkids one day.”


“You’re gonna tell your grandkids that?” He asked in a mock horrified voice. You laughed again.


“Yeah.” You grinned. “Gotta tell them how not to fuck up. All the shit they shouldn’t do coz they’re gonna regret it a couple years down the road.”


Dylan smiled, but it was a little sad. “We all do stupid shit that we regret.”


The two of you fell into silence once more, only now you were both lost in deep thought. You’d give anything, you thought, to take a look at what was happening inside that pretty little head of his right now.


A few minutes later, Dylan pulled up into a parking space. You didn’t recognize the hotel, but it had a beautiful view of Table Mountain, which was currently glowing with the city lights. He saw the way your eyes stared and laughed.


“Yeah, pretty much the only reason I picked this place.” He got out of the car and you followed, keeping close by. Once you two had gotten into the lobby, you took off your heels and padded with bare feet to the elevator and into Dylan’s suit.


“You can take the bed.” He told you, taking off his shoes and popping his shoulders.


“No, it’s fine.” You said, switching your phone on to see a couple of messages from Andrew. Ignoring them for the time being, you walked over to the couch. “I’m good here.” You we’re sure that you would pass out the moment your head hit the pillow, but Dylan’s laugh stopped you from doing so.


“You’re gonna have a killer hangover tomorrow.” He said gently and you sat up. “Take the bed.” He motioned with his head to a door on the wall next to the balcony. “I’ll get you some water and aspirin and then you can pass out, then it won’t be as bad in the morning.”


Your mouth opened to argue, but Dylan was already at the small kitchenette and you didn’t have the energy to speak loudly, your throat already burning from the too strong tequila. Instead, you stood and stretched and made you way to the bedroom.


Sitting on the bed, you allowed the events of the last six hours to pour over you. The longer you thought about it, the more embarrassed you felt. Honestly, you stopped speaking to Dylan entirely more than three years ago, when he said that he didn’t feel right talking to his ex while being so serious about another girl. To show up now, completely pissed and sleep in his bed was a testament to how utterly fucked up the last few months of your life had been.


You almost stood to call an Uber, but the door opened before you could. “Here.” Dylan walked up to you with a glass and two pills in his hands. “You’ll feel better in the morning,” he paused. “Or at least better than you would have.”


A grateful smile stitched itself onto your face. “Thank you.” You said, and really really meant it. It had been a long time since you had felt this taken cared of, this much at home. Dylan smiled down at you, staring into the depths of your eyes.


A long moment passed before he looked away.


“Um,” he walked across the room to where a set of bags sat, still packed. You wondered how long he’d been here. He dug into the bag and came back up with a white T-shirt which he tossed at you. “That’s probably more comfortable, than well-” he raked his eyes down your form and you blushed gently.


“Thanks.” Your head was ducked so you missed the way his eyes darkened.


“I’ll just- um,” he made a gesture to the door then pretty much ran out of it. You laughed gently, reaching behind you dress to pull the zipper off and walking to the mirror.


By some will of God your makeup had remained mostly in place. You dropped the black dress and smiled slightly, remembering how sexy you had felt when you first put on the lacey red bra and panties.


“I forgot to get a pillow-”


You spun around at the sound of Dylan’s voice, arms reaching up to cover yourself on instinct. The dark haired boy stood halfway in the door frame, apparently frozen and staring at your body.


There was a moments hesitation, where uncertainty hung in the air and neither of you knew what to do. It was only a moment.


“Ah, fuck it.”


Dylan crossed the room in three quick strides and was in front of you a second later. His hands cupped your jaw and titled your head up, lips meeting in a frantic kiss.


You arms wrapped themselves around us shoulders, pulling him closer as his mouth devoured your own. You moaned softly against him and felt the shudder that hit his body at the sound. You filled with pride, knowing that you could still get that reaction out of him.


“Wait.” You breathed, pulling back. Dylan looked at you with concern. “You have a girlfriend.”


He looked sheepish. “Yeah, I might have lied a bit.” You chuckled slightly at his confession, and Dylan smiled slightly. “Do you wanna stop?” He asked, and despite the lust in his eyes, you knew that he was being serious.


“Don’t you dare.” You warned, reconnecting your lips with a kiss more feverant than the last. Dylan chuckled slightly, but met you kiss for kiss as his hands began to trail down your body.


“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, eyes still closed. You felt his hands reached behind you as he unclasped your bra, kissing down your neck. The fabric fell down your arms, and you were sure Dyaln did something to it but you didn’t care.


His hands began fondling you. He gently caressed the soft skin of your supple breasts, as you arched into him. He cupped you firmly, a thumb running over you nipple, which had been hard from the cold air as well as the heat.


“Well that’s hardly fair.” You said, tugging at his shirt. Dylan got the message and pulled back, striping down completely before you pulling you back in, pushing a knee between your legs.


You moaned loudly. “Better?” He asked, hands moving to your thighs. You brought his lips back to your and kissed him passionately as he squeezed your ass and pulled you forward. You got the message, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist while he carried you to the bed.


His tongue battled with yours for dominance which you happily surrendered as he explored your mouth, his body moving against yours. You reach a hand between your bodies and found his cock.


Wrapping your fingers around his member, you began to pump him quickly, running your finger over the slit. Dylan moaned and pulled away. “If you don’t stop, this is gonna be a really shitty night for you.”


You laughed slightly. “Then what are you waiting for?” Dylan grinned, reaching to the bedside drawer and pulling out a condom. He tore the packet with his teeth, *fuck* and rolled the rubber down his length. You watch with a watering mouth.


“I wanna blow you.” You said. “But later.” Dylan moaned at your words and leaned down again to kiss you. He positioned himself at your entrance and nibbled on your jaw as he pushed in.


You moaned, your nails digging into his back. Dylan let out a gruff chuckle. “God, how are you so fucking tight?” He asked, pulling back almost completely before thrusting in again, hard.


“Oh,” You breathed, hands find his jaw and stroking it gently as you pulled him down for another kiss. His hands were on either side of your head as he kissed you passionately, and you moaned desperatly, wanting more.


Dylan didn’t move.


“Please.” You begged, pulling away for air. Dylan smirked down at you.


“Please what?” He asked teasingly. You groaned softly.


“Please fuck me.” He chuckled, pulling out and thrusting in, slowly.


“Like that?” He asked, his voice deep and raspy. You wanted to scream. He sounded so smooth and sexy, and looking at you with that smug little smirk on his face, you knew you wouldn’t last long.


“Harder. Faster.” You begged, digging your nails into his shoulder blades and dragging them down. Dylan moaned, and you loved the feeling of his hard, thick muscles under your hands.


Suddenly, he pulled out and began slamming in to you, his pace quick and brutal. You let out a screaming moan as Dylan’s hips slammed against the inside of your thighs.


“Oh God, Dyl!” You moaned, clutching on to him for dear life. “Yeah, baby, just like that.”


“So beautiful.” He said softly. “Laying there, holding onto to me so tight. So wet for me, baby.” He moaned, thrusting in harder.


He reached a hand between your bodies and pressed a thumb to your clit, not letting up at all on his brutal pace. You lasted two seconds before you came with his name on your tongue and his hands in your hair.


With a rushed warning, he followed you over the edge one, two, three thrusts later, spilling into the condom and laying over you. He supported his weight on him forearms, as not to crush you, as he looked down at you with something akin to love in his eyes.


For a long while the two of you stayed like that, basking in the glory of afterglow. You stared up at him, remembering, wondering how you’d given it up the first time.


“I never thought I’d hear you say my name like that again.” He admitted, leaning down and kissing your parted lips. You smiled into it.


“Never thought I’d say it, either.” He smiled, pulling out of you and getting up. He walked to the bathroom and got rid of the condom, coming back with a wet towel which he placed delicately between your legs.


Your hips moved up at the touch. He chuckled slightly, cleaning you up and putting the towel back. “I was a bit brutal,” he admitted, joining you in bed, and pulling you close.


“I loved it.” You assured him, tucking yourself into his chest. Dylan sighed and you could feel the tension draining out of him.


“Dylan” you said softly. “Promise me this isn’t gonna be it.”


“I promise.” He didn’t even hesitate. “And you, promise me this isn’t gonna be one of those things we all do that we regret.”


“I promise.”

break time 🍓 🍓 this friendship is something merlin needed tbh. oh well!

(percival) (leon) ( gwaine ) (elyan) (arthur)

anonymous asked:

It's been a while since you have drawn Dramione fan art... :( Will we have one soon?

Well, I have my freedom to draw whatever I want, don’t I? :) I’m not obligated to draw certain things. If I’m not drawing a certain pairing for a while, I will probably come back to it, but it generally means that it doesn’t inspire me as much at the moment. I’m not going to force myself to draw something? I love Dramione, I am very supportive of this ship, and I enjoy being able to contribute to the Dramione fandom, but you guys are the most demanding ones, I have to admit… If I get a message from a Dramione shipper, it’s usually “Where are you finally going to draw more?” instead of something nice, supportive, and inspiring. And I get A LOT messages like that, even multiple today. It’s a lot of completely unreasonable pressure, and the more you guys demand of me, the less I want to do it.

So I don’t know when there will be more Dramione. I appreciate you liking my art and looking forward to see more, but constant nagging isn’t going to help… Sorry :/

Besides. There wasn’t even two months since the last Dramione? And how many pairings do I strive to draw more or less regularly? Like 10 or something. And then there are other stuff and fun or artistic ideas besides that, it’s not just pairings. And then there are the HP Portraits. And also my other sideblog. And I post one drawing a week. So when do I get to post new Dramione? You can do the math :)

Sorry. I’m ranting… But this had to be said. And it’s not just meant for Dramione shippers, but also to everyone else who thinks that nagging me and demanding stuff from me is somehow going to make me want to do it, or do it faster.. :l

6

Tom and Sybbie play Poohsticks.

He Only Likes You For Sex

Hey, y/n” Harry’s raspy voice whispered over the phone.
Y/n normally would have been happy to hear his voice, calling her late at night in the middle of her thoughts. But tonight, right now, she couldn’t feel more upset.
She had hoped that he called because he needed her. Not how he normally needs her, where he needs a girl to get on with because he had nobody else. Not that need, the actual feel of need. Where he would physically break down any second if he didn’t hear her voice, or start to mentally go insane if he couldn’t feel her presence.
That’s something she will never give up on. “I’m sorry it’s late but, I have to. Can I come over?” he panted, clearly frustrated with the lack of friction on his body.
Y/n wanted to say no; she had to say no. How could she do this to herself, have the only person she could ever love only use her for his needs? How could she break her own heart like that? But at the same time, how could she say no—say no to all of his perfection, to say no to the boy she could never stop loving?
She couldn’t. She never could, no matter how much heart break it costs her.
“You don’t even have to ask anymore, Harry” she sighed, because it’s true. He was always needy. He was always thinking about her hands around his neck, her legs around his waist as he pounded into her. He was always thinking about the way her head threw back upon the pillow when pleasure took over her. But he never thought about her, the actual y/n she truly is, and she doesn’t even think he cares for that.
“I’m on my way” he said before hanging up.
Taking a deep breath, y/n let out a scream as she fell back down on her bed. Hands over her face, tears running down her cheeks, y/n now regrets her decision. There is no way she can do anything now, because she doesn’t want sex with him anymore. She wants a relationship—a relationship where he can open up to her in ways he hasn’t with anybody else. She wants to see him laugh at pointless things he would be embarrassed to laugh at with anybody else. She wants him to love her—love her the way she loves him.
“Stop it y/n” she whispered to herself, now thinking that it wasn’t going to be such a great idea if he runs into crying.
Within minutes Harry was walking into her bedroom, making y/n slowly look at him. He was already stripping off his clothes, practically running to her.
“God I can’t fucking wait” Harry breathed, laying on top of her.
Kissing down her neck, Harry tugged on the bottom of her shirt, begging for it to be lifted up. Detatching his lips from her neck, y/n took the shirt off herself.
That action wasn’t like her. She always let him do the honors of letting her free, but tonight she wasn’t even in the mood. She wanted to get this over with, if anything.
Harry then gripped onto her pajama shorts, pulling them down along with her underwear.
“Always so sexy for me” he breathed, taking a long look at the body naked in front of him.
She really was stunning. He always thought she was by far the most beautiful woman. She has the perfect everything. Her entire body was enough to make him go crazy, and he didn’t understand how someone could be so sexy to him.
“I can’t do foreplay, y/n. I can’t wait much longer” Harry croaked out, shaking his head at the thought of waiting.
She opened up her legs. She hadn’t even moved one bit since she had taken off her shirt. She stayed motionless, staring up at the ceiling, doing anything she can to avoid looking deep into his eyes.
Placing himself at her entrance, Harry thrusted inside of her, a loud moan escaping his lips.
She wished she could feel it, she did. But is this all Harry sees her as—what he can call his own just to fuck her? Is that all she wil ever be to him?
“Come on y/n. Come on, cum” Harry moaned, grabbing the headboard and ramming into her harder.
But she couldn’t. She couldn’t let go of the horrible pit of sadness in her. She couldn’t ignore all the love she feels for him, and couldn’t ignore the lack of it back.
This was it, she couldn’t do this anymore, the thought causing her to choke out a loud sob.
Harry immediatly haulted his actions. He was praying that he didn’t hurt her too much, pain causing her to choke out noises he never thought were possible. She was leaning up to his chest, her sobs rocking her back and forth. She was finally letting herself go, letting out every bit of shame, embarrassment, and sadness within her.
“Y/n” Harry whispered, now resting his hands softly on her shoulders before pulling her into his chest, holding her while rubbing her skin softly.
“W-why don’t you love me?” she chocked out.
“Why can’t you love me?”
Seeing her in Harry’s arms, pouring out every bit of her feelings, Harry had never wished something more than to love her. He really wished he could see her the way she saw him. He wants nothing more than to fall in love with her, but he didn’t see her like that. As much as he wants to, he can’t, and he’s never felt so ashamed at himself before.
“I don’t know y/n” Harry whispered, feeling his own tears pile up in his eyes and he squeezed her harder “I really don’t know.”

cool-fedorakitty  asked:

In the Japan haul video phil said he was going to leave post-it notes around the flat with notes for dan can you make a story about this please

omg I haven’t made any post for over a week because of AP tests and all that shit so this is a prompt I’m going to enjoy developing

so Dan honestly didn’t think Phil was being entirely serious with the whole post-it notes thing (like at most he probably would’ve made a couple of them before quickly growing tired) so you can imagine his surprise when he wakes up the next morning with a note on his bedside table

“ahahahaha you didn’t think I was actually going to go through with this did you ;)” it says

Dan just rolls his eyes

then when he goes to shower he discovers a second note stuck onto the mirror

“I won’t rest until I go through the entire stack”

Dan sighs because if this is true then he’s going to be unsticking notes from various places for a looooong while. not to mention it’s a waste of paper. what happened to saving the trees seriously.

he finds the third note attached to his hair straightener ( “I like your hobbit hair and think you should have it again sometime” ) and the fourth note on the fridge (which is just a crude drawing of a baby panda)

anyway Dan just keeps on finding additional notes all day and by the afternoon he’s pretty sure he’s actually missed a few. when he confronts Phil about it, Phil just shrugs and says that he’s already almost halfway through the entire stack ( “holy shit” Dan thinks, astonished.). still, Dan tells him that if he’s going to leave notes for him around the flat, they should contain more meaningful messages because even though what Phil’s doing is cute, all of those post-its would ultimately go directly to the wastebasket without Dan really doing anything about them. because let’s face it, there’s really nothing significant Dan can do about notes that simply say “hi,” “I’m bored,” “I like your cat shirt,” and “hi” again.

Phil completely understands and promises he’s going to begin doing something more productive with them and Dan believes him, because Phil’s straight face doesn’t lie

Dan wakes up the next morning with a what’s up?” note posted on the table

not seeing how this is any different from what was going on yesterday, Dan questions Phil about it, but Phil insists that it’s different and “trust me Dan you’ll see how it’s different soon enough”

the amount of notes today that plague the flat are no less than the amount yesterday and as far as Dan knows, Phil’s still leaving him meaningless messages, so he gives up and decides to let Phil do whatever he wishes

“it’s hot outside today Dan”

“can you get milk for me at that market today”

“Dan YouTube is lagging again”

“why is it so hot ugh”

“I just had a conversation with my mum Dan she wanted me to tell you she said hi”

“you have been in my last three videos seriously is amazingphil just a joint channel now?

eventually by nighttime Phil only has a few post-its left and Dan’s pretty much stacked all of the used notes on the coffee table so he can throw them out once he’s done silently conveying to Phil just how much harm he’s bringing to the trees

meanwhile Phil scribbles down another note and simply hands it to Dan without saying anything

“make sure you don’t throw any of those out, they’re important”

Dan looks up from reading the note and flatly asks “why what am I going to do with them”

Phil just smiles and scribbles down another note “you’ll see”

On the third day, Dan wakes up with yet another note on his table, saying, “Well, Dan, I’ve written through the entire stack. Except for one last one–” reading this, Dan suddenly notices one last post-it next to Phil’s note “–and you’re going to give me your answer on it. So… yes or no? Hint: look through the previous notes again. hopefully you listened to me and didn’t throw them out after all. :)”

Dan luckily didn’t actually throw out the stack (albeit after some heavy consideration) so he immediately begins to rifle through the entire stack

and even though the process is tedious and he had to go through the stack multiple times to finally understand what Phil is hinting at, he ultimately does see the question and he immediately knows the answer.

later in the afternoon, when Phil heads up to his bedroom, the answer is on his door.

“yes, you crafty dork”

(Hint for the reader: Some of Phil’s notes have bolded letters. :))

fic: wildfire (1/3).

“Alex has seen beautiful women before, her sister is one of them, but not one has ever taken her breath away so quickly it felt like she was being knocked over.

Maybe it was simply the shock of seeing another person here when the school had seemed so desolate.

Or maybe, maybe, it was because that was the most beautiful woman that Alex has ever seen.”

or the one where alex teaches chemistry, maggie teaches history, and they teach each other a little something about falling in love.

rated e. alex/maggie. ~8.3k. read on ao3.

August.

There’s a reason Alex isn’t an art teacher.

Besides her absolute disinterest in art as an area of an academic study, she’s utterly terrible at it.

But when Kara says, “let’s make decorations for your classroom!” with that signature excited Kara face, it was very hard for Alex to say no to. So hard in fact, that she didn’t.

The reality is - Alex is moving. She is moving away from her sister for the first time since college - and even then, Kara came to visit her every single weekend. Now that Kara is all grown up with her own job, Alex highly doubts that’s going to be doable this time around. She was staying with her this weekend, to get her settled in, and then she was going home, leaving Alex alone.

So really, Alex was hardly in a position to decline spending quality time with her sister.

Keep reading

PRESS ✖ RELEASE ✔

(( Trade with owynsama for a thing. ♥ ))

“They’re like flies.” England mumbled into his pillow, sweat slicked bangs clinging to his face. “Bloody awful things– they just lack the grotesque wings…”

America chuckled slightly, sifting his fingers through the other nation’s hair. “I think they lack more than just the wings…” He mused.

“Not really. Not when you get right down to it.” England shifted into his touch but didn’t say anything, affection mute. Actions spoke louder than words, sometimes. “They’re scavengers with a million lenses for eyes and the ability to be where you least want them to be." 

A sigh. "Yeah.” Because it was true. “Sometimes I wish we were all just a big secret, you know?”

England turned over, the sheets slipping down to pool at his bare hip. “You can’t hide when you arguably live forever. And bureaucracy is lazy– it can’t keep secrets. It doesn’t care enough to.”

Keep reading

3

The true meaning of this scene.

I’m slightly paranoid?

It makes me scared to ever meet JK Rowling anymore because what if i do and she asks me who my favourite character is and i will shamelessly say Draco Malfoy but then she’ll look at me and probably think that i’m just one of those girls who likes him because of Tom Felton’s good looks but that’s really not the only reason i like him but if i tried to explain how much of an interesting character he is to me she wouldn’t believe me.

louis tomlinson would fight a whole army just to be with harry styles

PTSD Olivia turned into Rowan. She is very much NOT 'fine'. Sigh.
10

I don’t think I could be more impressed with the range of expressions and body language Hyrule Warriors was able to capture, especially with Impa.

from subtle sighs to full on shock and awe, on top of mouth movement that actually looks like speaking rather than just flapping lips

I could not be more happy with how much attention to detail KoeiTecmo put into this game, and my new favorite character.

though personally, I think this one’s my favorite

because she looks like she is so freaking done with everyone’s shit and I love it

sometimes I feel really sad because I don’t think I will ever meet the person who would look at me the way oliver looks at felicity