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mf-despair-queen · 6 years

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What Happens At Comic Con - Dylan O’Brien

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Dylan O’Brien/Reader

Word Count: 17,252

Summary: Comic Con turns steamy when Y/N finds herself in the wrong place at the wrong time - under the table at the Teen Wolf panel in front of her biggest crush.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Unprotected Sex, Protected Sex, Oral (both receiving), Multiple Orgasms, Doggy, Spanking, Hair Pulling, Choking, Public Sex, Bondage (handcuffs and blindfolds), Wall Sex, Daddy Kink, Squirting, Boob Job, Mentions of Alcohol, Mentions of Practicing Safe Sex, Public Teasing, 69

Notes: Y’all wanted kinky daddy Dyl. Here you go. Takes place during 2015 SDCC. Thanks to @malia–stilinski and @roscoeknows for lurking and proofing. Ria also wrote the summary because I suck at them LOL. (PS Mobile is dumb but the read more IS THERE. Do not message me about it.)

You trudged through the people on your way into the San Diego Convention Center, your badge flopping around on the lanyard against your stomach. You fanned yourself with a piece of paper you had clasped in your sweaty palm from the intense July heat, rushing through the crowd of people towards where you were supposed to report that morning. You muttered low apologies when you bumped into different people, glancing at your watch every few seconds to make sure you weren’t running too late.

Two minutes.

You finally broke through the final crowd, pushing into the door that read Authorized Personnel Only, flashing your badge at the security on the other side. Eric, the guard current on duty, shook his head, covering his mouth to shield his low snickers. “It’s only day one, Y/N, and you are already running late?”

“Not late yet!” you screamed back at him, practically slamming into the keycard scanner to start your shift. You rapidly typed in your information, the ding from the machine signalling your successful shift sign in. You checked your watch one last time, slumping against the machine. “Safe. Thirty seconds to spare.”

“Damn,” Eric hummed, turning in his seat to watch you. “I lost my ten bucks.”

“You and Tim bet on me again?” you asked with a slight scowl on your face.

“You know it. New year, new bets to make.”

“Well, good luck next time, tiger,” you told him sarcastically, dropping your purse into your locker. “Do you know where I am today?”

“Check with Let. She’s in charge of scheduling this year. She’ll probably have you working with Bel and Ria though getting panels set up,” he informed. His lips curled into a smirk, leaning over the back of his chair. “Maybe you will get to work the Teen Wolf panel this time and see that guy you like.”

Your face lit up like a firecracker, turning a bright shade of red. You turned away from him to clip up your hair, letting a few strands hang loose. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” you mumbled, knowing he heard your clearly.

In the few years you had worked for San Diego Comic Con, you had silently hoped and prayed to work the Teen wolf panel. You had watched the show since it first aired in 2011 and fell in love with it. And even more, you absolutely loved one of the lead actors - Dylan O’Brien. Since the moment he came on screen, you were smitten with the sarcastic man. He was a genuine personality from what you knew about him. He was a mixture of smart, funny, talented and an overall kind person.

When you got hired to work in the audio-visual department full-time every year, you hoped for the chance to meet the man you adored for so long. But no. You always seemed to miss him, getting assigned to other jobs and never getting time to even see him personally. Your friends were always the ones to interact, confirming the things you had heard about him. Their words would just set you into a fit of depression and every night, you would find yourself eating a tub of chocolate ice cream. It was a simple hope to meet him, but at this point, it seemed unrealistic, like the world was determined to keep you just from saying hello to him.

“Whatever you say, Y/N,” Eric mused, nodding when someone walked through the door, showing their badge. “Get to work, squirt.”

“Just because you are old enough to be my dad doesn’t give you the right to call me squirt,” you grumbled, smacking the back of his head as you passed him, darting down the hall. “Don’t work too hard, Er!”

You ran into the meeting room where you found Let waiting. “Bout time,” she cracked, tapping her clipboard.

“Com licença,” you mumbled to the Brazilian, her lips curling. “I clocked in on time. I swear.”

“I know. I saw you,” she laughed, making you stick your tongue out. “Hey, be nice or I will change my mind.”

“On what?” you questioned.

“Your tasks for today,” he hummed. She slid a paper over to you when you sat in the chair across from her, letting you glance over it. “I have you set up for ‘The Autobiography of James T. Kirk’ at ten-forty-five, ‘Call of Duty Black Ops III: Zombie World Reveal’ at one, you will take your lunch after that. When you come back, maybe touch up on some things here before you head to Ballroom 20.”

“What’s in Ballroom 20?” you asked, her grin deepening.

“Well, I figured you were the right person to help with the ‘MTV’s Teen Wolf’ panel at five.”

“Wait,” you started, blinking multiple times to process her words. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Seriously?!”

“Seriously!” She laughed. “You will be working the Teen Wolf panel this year. Maybe you will get to say hi to the actors when they gather backstage.” She went a sly wink your way, your cheeks tingling pink.

“I don’t know what you are talking about. I-I’m not a fan of Teen Wolf,” you tried to say, voice cracking and squeaking with each word.

“Never said you were. So, thanks for clarifying,” she cackled, making your cheeks darken.

“You’re a horrible person.”

“I know,” she grinned. “Now, do I get anything for this amazing daily setup?”

You stood from your seat, rounding the table until you stood beside her. Without a beat, your arms wrapped around her in a tight hug, bouncing in your spot. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Obrigado, Let!”

“You’re welcome. Now go get to work!” she joked, pushing you off. “Ria and Bel are waiting to head to the Kirk panel.”

“You won’t regret this!” you told her, backing out into the hallway to face two grinning females. You turned to them after the door shut, quirking an eyebrow. “What?”

“Well?” Ria asked.

“Do you have anything to say?” Bel inquired, both leaning in close to catch any response you might have.

You tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t for very long. The sheer thought lingered in your mind, the words Teen Wolf racing through it like one of those scrolling signboards you see at sporting events. Finally you let out a scream, pulling them into a giant hug, the three of you bouncing in circles a couple times. When you broke away, your high-pitched squeals continued as you bounced down the hall, doing small dances to nonexistent music. You cheered yourself off, shaking your ass to the beat in your head, finally jumping to clap your heels together, though it only succeeded in making you fall to the ground in a pile of limbs.

Scrambling to your feet a few feet away, you dusted off your clothes, looking back at the girls. “I’m ok,” you tried to claim, narrowing your eyes on the snickering females. Ria had her phone out, camera pointed your way while Bel narrated what was happening with the jig you had produced. “Delete that.”

“Hell no,” she laughed. “This is going on Youtube.”

“Delete it or I erase you from life.”

“You wouldn’t,” her eyes narrowed.

“Wanna bet?”

“Guys, we have a job to do,” Bel broke in, yanking the phone from Ria. It was stuffed in her back pocket, Bel linking her arm with the Canadian’s before looping her other one with yours, dragging you both down the hall. “But, let’s be honest. That was a great video.”

“I hate you both,” you grumbled.

“No you don’t,” they replied simultaneously.

You glanced over the AV panel backstage of Ballroom 20, just short of five pm. The others were rushing around and getting the microphones set up, ensuring the cameras were prepped for the actors that were to arrive shortly. You fought against the rapid pounding of your heart, your eyes constantly darting to the time in anticipation. The actors would probably be arriving soon, someone getting them situated in proper order or walk onto the stage. That would mean feet away, Dylan O’Brien would be standing…

No, ignore that. Focus on your job, you scolded yourself, shaking our head and adjusting the way you sat in your chair. You turned a few knobs on the main panel, listening to Ria test each of the microphones.

“Everything sounds good on my end, Ria,” you told her, the girl cheering, though it was slightly muffled by the sound of the guests that had filled the hall completely.

“It’s a full house out here,” Bel mumbled through your ear piece. “Popular show, eh?”

“You have no idea,” you laughed slightly. “It’s a great show, guys. And the actors… They’re amazing, alright?”

“Soon,” Ria sung into your ear. “Very soon you will meet the love of your life!~”

“Shut up,” you grumbled. The line went silent, the feed cut until it was needed again, your eyes focusing once more on the screens in front of you. Your rapidly skimming eyes halted on one small blue screen a frown forming on your face. One of the microphones that had previously been working was no longer active, a big, fat error blinking on the screen. “Dammit, Ria must have accidently kicked the table or something when she was done and loosened the wires.”

You glanced around, everyone too busy with their work to worry about the minor issue. You almost felt like an inconvenience to grab someone to help with the issue, mostly because you knew it was a simple fix; it was something you could run out and fix in a matter of seconds. You were sure you knew exactly what the issue was, so why would you need someone’s assistance fixing it?

I just have to sneak out there, fix the connection under the table and get back before the panel starts. They won’t even notice I’m gone. Easy peasy lemon squeezy! You told yourself, taking out the earpiece. You ignored the commotion of people around you as you took cautious steps towards the stage, peeking out at the crowd. Bel hadn’t lied when she said it was a full house. Every seat was filled with eager fans, all excited to see their favorite actors on stage in a matter of minutes.

You looked back once to see if anyone was paying attention to you, seeing everyone with the backs turned. With a final deep breath, your ducked low, slithering forward onto the stage so the audience wouldn’t see you sneak by. You had to crawl between the chairs, shifting them subtly to slip by, lifting the table cloth to sneak under it. The cloth fell limp behind your, your small form safely under the table so you could look at the wired connections for the microphones.

“Let’s see,” you mumbled to yourself, following wires to check that each was properly plugged in to the main console. “Aha! You are the problem child, aren’t you?” you said to a loose microphone wire that had been knocked partially free from the port. With a single click, it was back in place, the table shifted so it wasn’t near the console again. “Now, we are all good in the neighborhood.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Kevin Smith, the moderator for the panel said, your heart officially stopping.

“Oh, God no.”

“How is everyone doing on this hot July day?” He said, the crowd cheering in response. “That’s good! Welcome to San Diego Comic Con to our favorite Teen Wolf panel! Let’s hear it!” The crowd roared louder, yet all you wanted to do was hit your head on the ground, cursing loudly at the situation you found yourself in. “So, y’all seen episode one of season five of course, yes?”

“Who hasn’t?” you grumbled lowly.

“I’m a man who loves a bromance. I’ve made a few movies where dudes are in love with each other and stuff. So naturally naturally, the Sciles relationship is very close to my heart. That being said, as you recall, the end of the episode, it’s not just those two but everybody going into the library, writing their initials on the shelf with the yearbooks and stuff. Which, right away, appealed to me on the sentimentality of like ‘oh, I’m forty-five. I think I remember going to high school’ and stuff like that, but I loved it. It’s a beautiful scene, like, there we are in Beacon Hills High School and watching all the friends together and that’s great. And then they took it one level up. And that’s what this show always does, and does so exceptionally well and why I will tune in and watch a show. Why y’all are here today to see the people behind it.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m under a table,” you seethed. “I was supposed to see Dylan finally. Fuck my life.”

“They gave us something even better. All of a sudden, we see Scott take out the marker and he writes Allison’s initials. And I started bawling as I was watching the scene.”

“I would say grow a pair if I too hadn’t cried my eyes out at that scene,” you muttered.

“I start crying. Now, I was watching on my laptop and my wife is sitting over at her desk. She’s watching a totally different program. She sees me crying and she’s like ‘what’s the matter?’ and I was like ‘he just wrote Allison’s initials in the library!”

“Kevin, I love you, but I feel bad for your wife right now,” you snickered to yourself.

“And my looked at me like ‘I can’t believe I sleep with you’.”

“I knew I always liked her,” you grinned.

Kevin cleared his throat. “But, ladies and gentlemen, there’s a reason we’re gathering here today man. I, like you, love Teen Wolf. Give it up for Teen Wolf.” The crowd burst out into a round of applause, while you sat back, giving a fake clap with a deadpanned, unimpressed face, almost mocking the predicament you were in. “We’re gonna be lucky enough to sit here today and talk to the people behind it. The people that make it happen man. I’m gonna bring the out. Give it up for each one as they come out as if they’re, you know, Jesus coming into Nazareth or something like that. Without this guy, ladies and gentlemen, you got no show man. He created it, he runs it, he’s the man. Give it up for Jeff Davis!”

You heard footsteps through the loud cheering, the table cloth shifting slightly. A pair of legs appeared under them at the right end of the table - the left facing the audience. You face paled, slowly looking over the chairs that were in front of you. “Oh fuck me. They’re going to sit here and potentially kick me. Or worse, know I’ here.” You ran a hand through your hair. “Even better, my first Teen Wolf panel experience is under a table. Good job, Y/N. Real piece of work here. First, you miss Dylan then you get to listen to his sexy voice under the table. Ten out of ten would go again.”

“You know. It’s-it’s a boy’s world in Teen Wolf. Not so much. It’s girls as well man. Lots of ladies on this show who kick ass. Here’s one of them man. Give it up for Shelley Hennig!”

A pair of orange legs appeared next, black heels covering her feet. “To think, the first thing I see in person of my idols are their legs. What a memory.”

“I’ve watched this kid become such a great actor over the last five seasons. I stole him and put him into a movie called Yoga Hosers man. He is the teen wolf man. Give it up for Tyler Posey!”

You heard his thudding footsteps followed by a crash. You ended up having to bite your lip to remain quiet, a hysterical laugh bound to escape if you weren’t careful. He sat next to Shelley, the seats before where you were sat dwindling rapidly. Literally. There was one seat directly in front of you and whoever was next would be the one to kick you if they so pleased.

“We didn’t break anything this time, did you?” Jeff asked through the crowd, his voice echoing slightly because of the microphone. “No broken toe?”

“No broken toes this time,” Posey laughed. You shook your head, thinking how he didn’t need a microphone for people to hear his cheerful voice. “I don’t think so. I may have broken my butt though.”

“I don’t know how you follow an entrance like that but there’s one guy who’s gonna be able to do it man. He’s half of Sciles. Give it up for Dylan O’Brien!”

Part of you wanted to clap wildly like the inner fan you were, joining the crowd in the applause the man deserved.

Part of you wanted to crawl away and die in a hole because you wouldn’t even get to see his face.

The last part was already dead with the realization of where you sat. Dylan’s name was called and he would sit next to Tyler. The chair in front of you was next to Tyler. There was no where you could run without risking the cords getting knocked loose or making noise so someone could hear you. Now, sometimes, you were regrettably bad at math, but if things were adding up right in your mind, there was only one possible outcome.

You were essentially going to be sitting between Dylan’s legs for the next hour during this panel.

Though there was a second possibility with relatively high probability that he would kick you in the face.

There was a loud thump again, and you knew he had fallen the same way Tyler had when he entered the stage. That preciously awkward clumsy nugget. Dylan, you stole another piece of my heart without me seeing you. Tyler stood from his seat, his legs disappeared from your view. The table cloth was raised enough that you could see his shoes beside Dylan’s worn brown boots he occasionally wore since that boy only owns approximately six outfits in total.

Their feet neared the table and everything seemed to go in slow motion for you. Your heart stopped pumping and your hearing went silent. Your eyes widened to the size of golf balls while your sweaty palms clenched tightly. You shuffled in your kneeling position, the ache of your bent knees overshadowed by the fear and anxiety you felt. With each step closer, you saw a piece of your life flash before you eyes.

Ok, a bit dramatic, but it felt like that.

You were ready to pass out by the time he finally sat down. Your body grew exponentially hotter than it had been all day and it wasn’t from the July heat or being confined in the smallest space ever. It was from the fact that you were sitting between Dylan O’Brien’s legs. They were spread slightly, the man slouching slightly in his seat. The table cloth rests against his hips, giving you the ideal shot of his shirt riding up. The dark hairs of his happy trail were visible and you felt a bit like Pavlov’s dog, drooling because you were ready at the ring of the bell. Or, in this case, the melodic voice that hovered above you.

“Hi.”

Holy god, he sounds a million times better in person.

His khakis hung love on his hips, your fingers itching to reach forward and trace the defined v-lines that were embedded into his skin. You marveled at the little bit you saw of him, afraid of what you would say or do if you were staring at his face. Letting your eyes slide shut, you could picture his face already. A thin layer of scruff along his jaw because he hadn’t bothered to shave all week. The stubble hid the moles you loved, the constellation of marks something that never failed to make your world twinkle and sparkle with happiness. He was probably wearing some kind of Mets hat much to your delight. His hands would rub and his knees, veins protruding from the skin and running up his arms, dancing between the dark hairs that laid against his skin.

In that moment, you tuned Kevin out, ignoring when Holland, Sprayberry and Cody sat down next at the table, completing the row of guests. You missed the questions he began to ask everyone or the commotion that was spurred when Posey gave Kevin a Beacon Hills lacrosse jersey of his own. The voices around you felt muffled besides his - the voice of the angelic man you admired for his personality, talent and wit. Yes, he was handsome but he was more than that.

He was perfection.

As the panel trudged on, you only listened to him, noting the tiny nuances of his actions when he spoke. He couldn’t sit still, sometimes straightening in his seat so he could lean forward into the microphone while other times his hands would be clasped in his lap, subtly adjusting himself in his jeans. His legs would kick out when he got excited, barely missing your scrunched up form. You heard his hands clap together whenever something happened. You knew he fidgeted with the Mets hat on his head occasionally by the way his body would shift against the chair. You would grin at the idea of his hand running through the silky dark locks, your body fidgeting with an unneeded - though not unwanted - desire. His joy brought you immense happiness, the butterflies rebelling inside you and trying to escape their cage.

You inched closer unconscious, watching as his hand rubbed over the crotch in his khakis against, adjusting himself as he sat. When his hand pulled away, you blink, leaning forward to get a better look. He had a bulge in his pants and it wasn’t small by any means. You could easily make out the shape of his length pressing into the tanned fabric, the fabric occasionally jumping when it twitched. H-he’s… he’s horny now? In the middle of the panel? You tried to sneak a glance up at him, the tablecloth in your way. Is this normal for him? Does he just get hard randomly? I know guys are always horny but now? What do I do? Stare at his erection the next thirty minutes?

You gnawed on your lip, slowly reaching forward. Your hand pulled back a few times, debating what to do the entire time. You were potentially risking your exposure under the table, between his legs, all because of your insatiable desire for him. Your body burned and the thought that he had a erection hiding in his pants made you wet in your jeans.Your core throbbed with want. The heat was becoming unbearable.

Was the fear worth it, knowing that he potentially wouldn’t want what you were willing to offer? Yes

Was the risk worth it, exposing yourself to him and willing providing sexual favors that you were more than ready to give without knowing who he truly was? You knew who he was but you didn’t know him, but the answer was still yes.

Just do it.

You hand brushed his crotch lightly, easily popping the button and sliding down the zipper. What you didn’t see above the table was the actor’s honey caramel orbs widen in shock, his lips tugged into a tight line. His eyebrows raised with his exasperated expression and he nearly choked on his water when he tried to cover the shock with a drink. Posey sent him a strange look, Dylan subtly shaking his head to rid his best friend’s worry. When Posey returned his ever watchful gaze to the audience and Dylan was sure that no one was looking really, he lifted the tablecloth that rested against his hips.

He was shocked to meet your eye, you hand creeping into his pants and pulling out the erection he had. His heart thudded rapidly, his cheek twinging a light pink from your beauty that he pushed away immediately.

His mouth went to fall open when you placed a finger to your lips, signalling him to remain quiet. And instead of him blowing your cover and stopping you like you feared he would, he nodded slowly, dropping the tablecloth back over himself. He slid himself further down in his seat to give you better access, sliding one hand under the tablecloth to help reveal himself fully to you.

Holy shit. He’s ok with this? He wants this? You asked yourself on rapidfire. But why? Is it because of me, or is it because I’m offering to blow him? I hope it’s the former… Well, no time to question right now.

You slid forward on your knees so you were nestled between his legs better, using a hand to stroke him slowly. Dylan was struggling not to make a noise of pleasure, his attention split between the guests he was addressing and the events in his lap. His fingers curled against the black tablecloth, teeth gritting together so he could utter his answer through clenched teeth. His voice was strained and you could tell. You knew his voice like the back of your hand and the tone was off. And the more your hand moves, the more it grumbled together, dropping a few octaves between words. You could picture his Adam’s Apple bobbing with each dry swallow - and he was doing just that.

He slid forth slightly, giving you enough access to wrap your lips around the head of his cock. His voice jumped with surprise as he answered a question about what supernatural creature Stiles would be. His chin leaned on his conjoined hands, his body wiggling at the pleasurable sensation of your moist lips around him, hollowed cheeks sucking at the sensitive tip. Your tongue smoothed over the slit, tasting the precum that seeped out from your gentle strokes. He was a tad salty, but most sweet, just like his extraordinary and unique personality.

With the small amount of room you had, you began to bob your head along his length, careful not to bump the underside of the table whenever you pulled away from him. Your hand continued to stroke what couldn’t fit in your mouth, your mouth and digits in perfect sync. Your could feel yourself growing more aroused with each passing second, your panties growing slick in your jeans, the droplets beginning to coat your thighs. For a second, you were thankful you wore black jeans. The more you sucked at him, taking every inch of his gigantic cock in between your cheeks, the wetter your grew.

The throbbing was becoming unbearable, your heart racing in time with the pulses that weaseled their way from your groin through your veins. With your free hand, never letting your motions falter, you popped the button on your jeans, unzipping it slowly and quietly. Your hand slid between your legs as best it could, a shiver running up your spine when you made contact with the moist core. It was dripping down your fingers without remorse. You let out an inaudible whimper around him, letting two slim fingers sliding into yourself. Slow thrusts into your moist center matched the perfectly timed bobs of your head.

Dylan was struggling even more than before to keep calm and collected, his orgasm quickly approaching. When he wasn’t busy answering a fan, he thought back on his love life, trying to recall the last time he had a blowjob this incredible. The answer was never. The way you hand gripped him and the way your mouth formed around him. The way the tip would occasionally hit the back of your throat and you wouldn’t halt for a single second. The way your tongue would swirl about his entire length, tracing along the pulsing vein that wa protruding on the underside of him. He was impressed, aroused and pleased. He was ecstatic and, deep down, he was enjoying every second of it.

For you, you were on cloud nine. You pleasured yourself while pleasing him. You savored his salty sweet juices while letting your freshly manicured nails scrape at your tender walls, gracing over your g-spot occasionally. Your thumb pressed to your clit for extra bliss. Your hand that was wrapped about the base of his shaft moved to fondle his balls, pushing his boxer briefs out of the way as much as possible. Your mouth did the remainder of the work, sucking deep and long at his erect cock.

Dylan, who had his head buried in his hands to keep focused, snapped to attention when a fan asked him a question, the man stuttering out an answer. He was so close - he was nearly there. And in the middle of his answer, he resorted to one of the things that came naturally to him: comedy. He let out a disgruntled laugh to cover a moan that threatened to slip, his eyes squinting and his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth like a dog in heat as he gave the girl of hysterical answer to her question.

It was all a facade though. His pulsing length twitched wildly, long strings of white spilled from the end down your throat, his burning hot seed dripping down your throat as he came. You quivered yourself, a mild orgasm hitting your system. It didn’t stop you from swallowing every last drop he ejaculated into you mouth. Dylan had to dig his nails into his palms to keep silent, his body shaking from the orgasm that was raining over him. His eyes fluttered shut briefly, opening quickly to make it seem like a few rapid blinks of his long, gorgeous eyelashes.

You pulled away as he began to go limp, your tongue running over your lips to gather any drops that may have escaped. Your hand pulled from your core, wiped on the bottom of your jeans to clean them of your arousal. You were left with a silent prayer that no one could tell what you had done and why your pants were damp with your core’s fluids. You fixed your pants first before fixing his, giving him a light pat on the crotch when you were done so he knew he could relax and sit up,

“And that wraps up our time for today. Everyone give it up for one more time for your Teen Wolf cast!” One by one, they stood up from the seats, presumably waving at the crowd as they were announced. “Jeff Davis! Shelley Hennig! Tyler Posey! Dylan O’Brien!” At that, Dylan stood up, leaving you alone under the table. “Holland Roden! Dylan Sprayberry And Cody Christian!” A round of applause filled the room, the low sound of footfalls disappearing from the stage. “Thank you everyone and enjoy the rest of your day!”

You slowly lifted the bottom of the tablecloth, peeking out to make sure the coast was clear. Kevin was gone and the stage was empty. Before you waited a second longer, risking getting caught, you crawled out, shuffling back behind the stage. You heart was pounding rapidly, having yet to cease from everything that had happened. Pushing your hair back, you sat at your sound panel, waiting for whoever was there to relieve you. They showed up quickly and you found yourself briskly walked towards the door.

On your way out, you passed the Teen Wolf cast. On a normal day, you would stop and talk to them, considering how much you adored them and their show. But considering what just happened, you weren’t in the mood. You missed Dylan’s eyes following you, his mouth falling open to call out to you. You didn’t hear his steps following after you hastily, leaving his friends behind.

“Hey! Wait. Please!” he tried calling, one hand reaching out to try and stop you from escaping.

You face lit up, too embarrassed to face him after what happened. Instead of stopping like you would have loved to do, to turn and face the man of your dreams, you pushed through the personnel doors, disappearing from his view.

His face fell, his hands hanging limp from his side. He watched the door shut behind you, taking his hat off to ruffle his hair. “I just wanted your name…”

“Get a move on guys! We have a panel that starts in ten!” Ria shouted to the bustling crew, Bel sitting at the audio panel. You strut over to her, glancing over her shoulder.

“Everything looks good,” she chimed happily, giving her thumbs up. “Everything is working perfectly. All mics are functioning, cameras are ready. I think we are all set for the panel!”

“Thank god something can go right today,” you laughed.

Friday had come faster than you could blink. After the Teen Wolf fiasco, you had rushed home, curled up in bed and hid under the covers until your alarm blared that morning. And so far, everything seemed to go wrong. Equipment malfunctions, late panel starts, employees and volunteers not showing up. You even spilled your morning coffee over your shirt, having to swap it for a spare you kept in your locker. And this was all before noon. You took a fast lunch, sadly dreading your next task.

Managing the Maze Runner panel.

The first movie was marvelous but the potential of running into Dylan again was racing through your mind endlessly. You could physically feel your blood pressure heighten, your body unable to stay still since you walked into the convention center. You were afraid of the man you admired. You couldn’t imagine looking him in the eye after everything that had happened between you both.

With a low sigh, you collapsed in a chair at a table, taking a sip of water before the action got started. You hadn’t seen the actors arrived and you hoped to keep it that way until you could slip away from the panel unnoticed. You knew it would be a long two hours while the panel ran. You glanced at your watch as you sipped the lukewarm bottle, setting it down to fan yourself with some random papers that were scattered on table.

“Hey.”

You squeaked in surprise, the papers going flying while your head whipped to the source of the noise. Dylan sat with his perfectly round bum on the table, his head turned to you. His honey eyes flickered with amusement at your squeal, his lips upturned in a goofy grin. He took off his hat to run his hand through his silky locks, replacing the Mets cap backwards over his chocolate colored hair. His face was lined with scruff like you always loved, the moles scattered across his cheeks barely visible but looking extra delicious.

“D-Dylan,” you managed to get out, Dylan nodding partially in agreement.

“Yeah,” he laughed. His voice was melodic, the pitch perfect to match his looks. It wasn’t insanely deep and gruff, but it wasn’t like his balls hadn’t dropped either. It was literal music to your ears. His throat vibrated with his words, ringing like a perfect harmony as he watched you closely. “I’m Dylan.”

“I-I know,” you cracked, looking away from him. He continued to smile, shifting in his position to look at you better. His hands rested in his lap, watching you expectantly.

“And you are?” he finally asked. You flushed a bright red, realizing he didn’t know who you were like you knew him.

“O-Oh. Sorry. I-I’m Y/N,” you said, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he rasped, scratching at his stubbled chin. You looked down at the table, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You know, I think I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

“Oh really?” you asked, your heartrate picking up. You dared to glance up at him, a glint hidden behind his eyes.

“Yeah. I feel like I’ve seen your before today. And I just had to come talk to you because I kinda missed you after you took off after a panel,” he kept saying, his vague words causing your foot to tap anxiously.

“W-well, we definitely have never met. Trust me on that,” you confirmed.

“I don’t know,” he continued, licking his lips. “Are you sure you haven’t been under any tables lately?”

Your heart stopped. You slowly looked up at him, expecting him to be angry. “I’m so sorry about that,” you let out before even seeing the expression on his face. Your nails scratched at the wood on the table, leaving a line of indentations from the countless scratches. “I-it was a complete accident I swear-”

“Y/N, calm down,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t have to apologize. I… I really enjoyed it. I never thought I’d say that aloud, trust me. But what you did was phenomenal.”

You blinked at him, gaping like a fish. “Wait, really?”

Dylan gave a sheepish smile, winking before his name was called. His castmates were waving him over, the panel getting ready to start. “Well, hopefully we can get to know each other better. You can sneak under more tables if you want,” he whispered, giving a toothy grin. He leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Or, next time, I can please you in return.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond. Dylan slid off the table, giving another wink while backing away. His eyes bore into you, darker than before. He strut away quickly, greeting his friends with hugs and laughs. Your eyes remained on his backside, licking your lips at his tight back muscles through his shirt and his plump ass through his black jeans. You felt your body heating up, stomach churning with an uneasy want. Your loins were burning in your jeans, replaying the words he said, picturing the flirting he was doing moments ago.

“Y/N.”

You squealed once more in surprise, turning to Ria. With a hand on your chest to calm your heart, you glanced at her quirked eyebrow and silly grin. “You people really need to not sneak up on me.”

“You people?” she inquired. “As in, me and Dylan O’Brien?” she hummed.

“Shut up.”

“Alright, alright,” she said, waving her hands in defeat. “We need you on the floor.”

“What?” You asked, forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Why?”

“Alex, the new guy for camera work, didn’t show up,” she hissed. “We need you to fill in.”

“Why me?” you whined.

“Because you are free and the best one we have,” she chimed.

“Fine,” you growled back, standing from the table. You grabbed a headset to head the others while working, Ria grinning at your side. “What now?”

“So, you and Dylan? What was that all about?”

“Oh my God, Ria. Not now,” you grumbled.

“Fine. I expect details later,” she said, skipping away to Bel’s side. You rushed out to the cameras just as Chris Hardwick, the facilitator for the panel walked out, greeting the fans. He gave an intro for the fans, getting them hyped for the trailer that was to premiere. You grabbed a camera to take a few photographs while the cast and crew walk out, getting it ready while the trailer played. You watched the trailer quietly, smiling at what was coming.

As it ended, the cast and crew walked out. You snapped photos while they entered the stage, pausing when Dylan was announced. His eyes found yours quickly, a confident smile on his face as he waved at the crowd, clapping for his fellow castmates. You shook off the butterflies that formed from his glance, trying to focus on the photos you were taking.

Though, he made your job hard for the two hours you were on the floor. You caught pictures of him staring at you, occasionally catching the winks and smiles he sent your way. He would purposefully run his hands through his hair, tugging at the collar of his shirt as if he were hot just to show his defined collarbone. He gave subtle gestures towards you such as running his tongue over his lips slowly and tauntingly or letting his hand disappear under the table like he were palming an erection that he was now sporting. He was playing with your head and your hormones, the delectable man seeming to want more of you.

But, two could play his game.

You tugged your shirt low after standing up, giving him a better shot of the cleavage you were displaying. You had worn a push up bra because of the shirt you had originally worn but after the whole coffee ordeal… yeah, now you were sporting a line of cleavage that would make any man wet themselves. Dylan let his eyes trail over it slowly, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth to keep in an undesired noise of approval. You wiggled your hips while you worked, sticking your ass out whenever you moved to take photos of the cast. Your jeans made your butt look incredible and you were willing to flaunt it to the actor of your dreams. You twirled strands of hair, fluttering your eyes at him, the man returning the gesture with his own winks and fluttering eyelashes.

The tension between you both was palpable but more than warranted and desired. You welcomed it and you only hoped he did as well - though, it felt like he did.

When the panel was over, the actors standing to wave at the crowd happily, you heading backstage to gather your stuff. As you were piling up your random papers, you felt a hand wrap around your wrist, giving a sharper tug than they really meant. You looked up at a frazzled Dylan, his eyes brighten but dark.

“Hey. Sorry. Didn’t mean to do that as hard as I did,” he mumbled, keeping your body upright when you stumbled from his tug. “I-I just needed to talk to you. Like, right now please? Alone?”

“O-Oh. Um,” you tried to say, no words coming out. He took the silence as approval, glancing around to see if he was being watched before pulling you away quickly. You struggling to keep up with this long strides, Dylan almost running through the back stage to get to whatever destination he was planning. “Where are we going?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, your face paling as he pushed through a set of double doors, looking left and right before continuing. “I just… I needed to get away.”

You looked him over as you walked, stopping to spy the tend in his jeans. He was horny again. He needed a release you presumed. He was struggling to keep in control, his face scrunching in anger when he couldn’t find a place to get the release he desired. He had an antsy bounce in his step, his hand squeezing at your wrist uncomfortably.

“Next right,” you told him, Dylan pausing to look back at you. “There is our staff bathroom. It’s a single person bathroom.”

“Perfect,” he uttered to himself, rushing off against. Following your direction, he found the room with ease, flicking on the light before tucking you in. The door was slammed shut behind you, your back pressed against it. His fingers fumbled with the lock, his body pressing against yours.

“God, you are a horrible tease,” he grumbled lowly, playing with the hem of your shirt. Your breath came out in uneven puffs, waiting for him to do something more. “Watching you throughout the panel was torture. All I could think about was yesterday and finding you under the table. I could only think about you sucking my cock. But actually seeing you this time made it ten times worse. You’re fucking gorgeous and I couldn’t stop thinking about the different things I’d do to you when I could get my arms around you.”

“Dylan,” you wheezed, meeting his eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, your head nodding swiftly in response. “If you ever want me to stop, you tell me. I don’t want to push you into anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

You groaned, Dylan turning from aroused to confused. “Why do you have to say that?”

“W-was that bad to say?” he panicked. “We can stop this completely.”

“No, it’s not that!” you said. “No guy has ever cared that much to say anything like that. Every other guy just cares that they get to fuck me and not if I want it or not. I knew you were amazing but fuck, you blew me away even more.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, a smile on his face from the compliment. “But you should want this too.”

“I know,” you hummed. Your arms wrapped around his neck, tugging him closer. “Now, I want you to kiss me. And if things get intense, I will tell you to stop.”

He nodded once, pressing his lips against yours in a heartbeat. You melted instantly, returning the kiss that he dominated. His lips were wrapped around yours completely, dragging them along yours to elicit the low smacking sounds the reverberated off the walls. Your fingers played with the hairs at the base of his neck, his tugging at your shirt and jeans. You let him have control, the residual pleasure from whatever he did making your stomach clench and your limbs shake.

His tongue tapped at your lips, asking for permission that you didn’t hesitate to oblige. Your lips parted, the wet article from his mouth sliding in without hesitation. It found yours, the two swirling together in quick circles. You moaned into him, the vibration drawing his own moan out. His tongue commanded yours, tracing the outlines of your cheeks amidst the kiss and memorizing the shape and taste they held. You only would pull apart for bursts of air, returning to the kiss more than before.

His hands slid down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before moving to your thighs. With a single tap as an indication, you jumped into his arms, Dylan supporting your weight without much difficulty. Your legs wrapped securely around his waist, the actor keeping a firm grip to your backside to keep you pressed taut against him. Once situation, he backed you away from the bathroom door, shuffling further into the small room. He didn’t pull away, but he was less focused on the kiss he was giving you, his attention split between you and finding a place to set you down.

He settled on the toilet, carefully lifting his foot to close the seat before placing you down. He leaned over you, his lips still attached to yours, sucking at your tongue and lips passionately. His hands worked on your jeans, the button popping and the zipper sliding without you knowing it. It was only when he linked his fingers through the belt loops and gave them a simple tug that you knew what was happening. You bottom lifted off the seat long enough for him to tug the dark denim down your legs, pulling off away from the kiss to pull off your flats before removing them completely. They were left in a pile beside the toilet, Dylan sitting back to admire the pale blue cheekster panties you had worn, pale pink flowers printed all over the pleek material. It hugged your ass perfectly, Dylan tracing his fingers along your smooth skin.

“Beautiful,” he uttered under his breath, his eyes swapping between your face and your groin. He gave them a light tug, silently asking if he could pulled them off, which you gladly allowed. The floral print cheeksters were left with your jeans, your core fully exposed to him. He swallowed drying, Adam’s Apple bobbing as he did, eyes narrowed on it. “Fucking gorgeous like I thought.”

“Please Dylan,” you whimpered out, two fingers dipping down to rub at your own clit, spreading yourself open to him. “You said you would return the favor. I’m waiting.”

His hand darted out before you got too comfortable, pulling yours away from yourself. “Don’t even think about it, sweetheart. You are all mine.”

Fuck, that’s hot.

You nodded, submitting yourself to his reign. He tugged you forward so you were slouched against the placing teasing kisses to your core. His tongue ran through your folds slowly, prodding at your core with the tip. You whimpered and whined for more, practically begging him to continue.

Finally, his tongue slip inside you, slurping noisily at your entrance. Your back arched off the back of the toilet, your hand reaching out to knock his hat off and tug at his luscious hair. His licks and sucks didn’t stop, Dylan’s eyes closed as he lapped at your pussy restlessly. His tongue swirled and traced along your sensitive walls, trying to find the spots that made you louder than before. His hands kept your legs spread, circles drawn to yours skin that made you shiver with excitement.

“More,” you pleaded. “Please, I need more.”

He didn’t respond, only pushed himself between your legs more. He pulled away from your core, licking at the swollen nub of your clit a few times, drawing random shapes and letters that you could barely discern as his name before returning to your pussy, trying to make you moan loudly. Your mind was buzzing with a million thoughts, but only one stuck out and that was the impossibly amazing feeling he was giving you. You body was wracked with shivers, your stomach bubbly with bliss with each lick and swirl of his tongue.

His tongue finally found your g-spot, your moan rippling around the bathroom loudly. You tugged at his hair, your hand moving to your mouth so passerbys wouldn’t hear whatever noises you let out. Dylan seemed satisfied and had no intention on stopping, finding the same spot every time he dipped back inside you. Your walls spasmed occasionally, trying to clench around his tongue.

“Dylan,” you whimpered, giving his hair a firm tug. “More. Please.”

He pulled away, licking his lips as he stood from the kneel position he had settled into to eat you out. He leaned back over your somewhat weak form, the pleasure making it hard to concentrate. He gently tilted your head up, pressing his lips to yours in a fierce kiss, tongues dancing together instantly. You disregarded the taste of yours on his lips and tongue, pushing up to kiss him back. He pulled away after a second, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

He fumbled with his pants, letting them drop to his ankles before pulling you off the toilet seat. His large, veiny hand pressed against your back, kissing you when you colliding with his chest. “Why did you stop?” you asked through his countless kisses, moaning at the way his swollen red lips would dance over your cheeks. When he stopped to answer, yours repeated his process, kissing along the stubbled awline of the actor like you always wanted to. His cheeks were soft and plump and insanely kissable since he was a mere eighteen starting on Teen Wolf.

“Because I want to please you even better than this after what you did yesterday,” he hummed quietly, smiling into a short kiss you placed to his lips.

You could have sworn you were dreaming honestly. Here was this one of a kind man who not only gave you by far the best oral you ever had despite the lack of orgasm it resulted in, but now he was saying he wanted sex in the bathroom during Comic Con. This was something you never thought would happen. Could it be a ploy to have sex and he would never talk to you again? Absolutely. Was it worth it? Absolutely.

He backed you into a wall when you didn’t respond, kissing at your neck. “You want more, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice low and husky. You shivered in response, trying to nod. “You want me to please you?”

“Yes,” you struggled to get out, tilting your head to give him better access. The shirt blocked him from going lower, his hands tugging at the bottom. You pushed him away to strip it off, Dylan’s eyes widening at the pale blue push up bra, the floral print matching the panties he loved. “Please.”

His head dipped to kiss your collarbone, red marks lining the exposed tops of your breasts. “Please what?” he asked. “Do you want me to fuck you against this wall? You want my huge cock inside you? You want me to please you?” he continued. “God, I want to please you so bad. I want to hear you moan my name so loud, you can’t say anything else. I want to see you unravel like I did yesterday when I came in your mouth during that panel. I know I can make you feel good, sweetheart, so let me please you.”

Your legs felt weak. You loved how sure of himself and you felt like putty in his hands. You were willing to do whatever he wanted at this point if it meant he would please you. You pushed your chest against his, snapping the band on his boxer briefs. “Please, Dylan,” you whimpered. “Do whatever you want. I’m all yours.”

“Alright, if that wasn’t the hottest thing I’ve ever heard,” he rasped, pushing the Calvin Kleins down his legs to join the black jeans that were still bundles around his ankles. “I um… I don’t have…”

“It’s fine,” you said, kissing his stubbled chin. “You’re clean, right?”

“I-I think so,” he fumbles. “I just had a check up a few weeks and they didn’t say I had anything. B-but I-”

“It’s fine then,” you laughed. “If I come up with anything later, I’m suing though.” His face paled slightly until you shook your head with a laugh. “I’m kidding! I trust you, Dylan.”

“I don’t know if I trust me at this point,” he utters sarcastically. He proceeded to lift you from the floor however, his shaft sliding through your folds as few times when you wrapped your legs around his waist. “God, you’re so wet.”

“P-Please,” you stammered, clawing at his shoulders through his blue shirt.

His head buried in your shoulder as he slid inside, stretching your walls to accommodate his large size. Your face buried in his neck, wincing at the feeling considering he was probably twice as large as the last man you were with. He stilled once he was buried hilt deep, taking deep breaths to remain in control. He let you get used to him inside you, kissing your bare skin to try and relax you.”

“You are so fucking tight,” he mumbled. “Tight and warm and wet. God, you feel better than I thought you would. It’s ten times better than your mouth. I don’t know how I will even last inside you.”

“Please, just fuck me,” you whined. He pulled away to send you a worried glance, his puppy dogs eyes wide and bright despite the lust in his system. “I’ll be fine once you start moving. Just move, Dyl.”

“I like when you call me Dyl,” he whispered, pulling back to ease himself back in slowly. He repeated the process, slow thrusts into you gradually speeding up. The faster he went, the more the pain dissipated, turning into pleasure. You moaned into his neck, hugging him close. “You like this, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you cried out, nipping at the skin of his neck. His skin covered your countless moans, his thrusts hitting your g-spot already. “So good.”

“You want more?” he asked, his voice on the edge of cocky as if he already knew what you would say. “You want me to please you more baby?”

“Yes please,” you whimpered. His thrusts got faster still, cock pistoning in and out of you rapidly. Your hips clapped together noisily, the sweat that covered your skin increasing the volume of your skin against his. His balls hit your folds every time he slid in, lingering sometimes while your walls hugged around him.

Slowing down, he uncurled one leg at a time from his waist, your leg strewn over his arms. The back of your knees rested in the crevice of his arms, dangling openly on either side of his body. Instead of supporting himself on the wall, his hands slid up your body and under your bra, giving each perky mound a firm squeeze in his palms. His fingers toyed with your hard peaks, tugging them until they were stiff and taut to his touch.

When he sped back up, your head fell back against the wall, loud moans of his name escaping your lips. Dylan smirked, biting at his lip so he could quietly watch your face as he pounded you into the wall. Your beautiful eyes that plagued his mind since the panel were closed, your nose flared in pace with your heaving chest, and your lips puckered in concentration, parting to moan his name every time he hit your sweet spot. Watching you kept him going, determined to please you just as you did him.

You were weak, shaking in his grasp. You continued to claw at his shoulders, trying to keep your head on straight with the things he was doing to you. You weren’t lying when you said he could do whatever he wanted because he made you feel amazing - out of this world. He could bend you over and spank you, taking you from behind, and you would take it gladly. Hell, you would thank him for anything because he made you feel that good.

The closer you grew to your orgasm, your moans turned from just his name to a chant of the words “Fuck me, Dylan” over and over again. Each thrust of his cock into your wet pussy made the words come out, Dylan speeding up more and more. The slapping skin grew louder and he held your harder, knowing he too was getting close. More red marks were left on your skin as he kissed all over it.

He grunted at how tight your walls became, feeling your body shake in his arms. Your nails dug through his shirt, a loud moan bouncing off the walls. Your juices splattered against your walls, coating the length of his cock. Your toes curled in the open air, letting your moist core aid his thrusts, a slick sound coming from his fast thrusts. Dylan was struggling to remain in control, your tight and wet center making his head spin. His lips pursed together, biting at his tongue and helping you ride through your high until it was too much.

He carefully let your down, his hands on your waist to make sure you were steady before pulling out. He kept one hand on your waist, the other furiously pumping his own cock to reach his end. He let out a low grunt and it wasn’t long until strings of his hot seed shot from the tip, coating your stomach in drops of sticky liquid. Your shaky hand met his, helping him jerk himself through his orgasm. Your lips met his in a tender kiss, a smile on your face.

He broke the kiss, giving you a lopsided smile before backing away. You watched him waddle to the sink, grabbing multiple paper towels and wetting them to clean you and himself. “I’m sorry I made a mess on you. I didn’t want to cum inside you because… you know.”

“You’re just being a gentleman,” you giggled, kissing him as he wiped the sperm from your stomach. “You’re being precautious, Dyl.”

“I still really like hearing you call me that,” he chuckled. He tossed the used paper towels in the trash, pulling up his pants and boxer briefs, placing his hat back on his head. You fumbled your way back to the the toilet, waddling like a penguin until you got to the seat and collapsed on it. You slowly pulled back on your undies and jeans, groaning when you spotted your shirt across the bathroom. Dylan chuckled, going to grab it for you, watching you pull it on over your head. “Better?”

“Just kind of sore now,” you laughed, Dylan smiling. He kissed your forehead tenderly, wrapping his arms around you.

“Sorry,” he said wholeheartedly. He dug into his pocket, his phone in hand. “Hey, I was wondering-”

His phone started ringing, Dylan frowning. He held up a finger, signalling to hold on a moment while he answered the phone. He talked quietly, signing into his phone. He hung up a minute later, shaking his head. “Sorry. That was Thomas. They’re looking for me because I bolted right after the panel and we have interviews and stuff.”

“Makes sense,” you laughed. “We kind of snuck off pretty fast. Do you want me to show you out? I work here so it works out.”

“That’d be great actually,” he laughed. “But first, I was going to ask if I could get your number.”

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Your number. So I can call you? Text you? We can hang out?” he said, somewhat confused. “I mean, I’d like to get to know you more.”

“Oh,” you mumbled. “Alright.” You took his phone, typing in your number, snapping a quick photo of yourself to set at the picture. You had to take a second to make sure you looked presentable post sex prior to snapping the photo. You sent yourself a text to get his number as well, handing him back the phone. He smiled, staring at the new contact before stuffing it back in his pocket.

“Awesome,” he said with a little pep. He held out his arm, allowing you to link yours with it. “Shall we?”

“Absolutely.”

You both made sure the halls were clear before sneaking out of the bathroom, heading towards the Young Hollywood room for his interview. The entire time, your hands remained linked together subtly, unable to be seen by anyone. You only broke when you got the the room, both of you sadly looking at each other while parting ways. You frowned as the door shut, turning to head back to work.

He’ll call, right? This isn’t the end, right?

The sun had set and the EW annual bash was underway. Everyone that was present were talking vibrantly amongst themselves, enjoying the festivities. You were standing behind the sound panel, in control of the music that was playing through the large speakers. You picked at your nails, watching everyone interact. You almost wondered if Dylan was around with his friends, enjoying his night.

I mean, there is an open bar. He could at least come for a few drinks, right?

“Hey,” was whispered in your ear, making you jump. You turned to the course, Dylan smiling at you. He had a smile on his face, raising the bottle of Budweiser that was in his hand as greeting. You groaned, moving the mic on your headset away from your mouth so your coworkers wouldn’t hear you.

“You really need to stop sneaking up on me,” you told him flatly. “Especially while I’m working.”

“I just wanted to see if you would get a drink with me,” he laughed.

“Did you just miss the part where I said I was working?” you asked, trying to be serious. The adorable look on his face broke you though, a smile forming.

“Well, when do you get done?” he asked.

“Really, Dyl?” you chuckled, looking at him.

“Deadly,” he said with a wink.

“Oh, so I blow you once and we fuck in a bathroom once and you think I will get a drink with you?” you inquired.

“Well, I…” he paused, blinking. “I got nothing.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“So I’ve been told,” he grinned. “So, what do you say? I was being serious earlier when I said I wanted to get to know you. You seem like a cool girl outside of the whole sex thing that’s been going on. Is it bad that I want to talk to you and get to know you?”

“No, I guess not.”

“You are an amazing girl, Y/N. And I really hope you will consider it. I’d like it so much-”

“Alright,” you said, cutting him off. “I have an hour left before my replacement shows up. Meet me at the bar then.”

“Oh,” he let out, his face heating up. His grin filled his entire face, beaming at you. “Alright! Cool. This is awesome. Right. An hour. I will meet you there. Definitely will meet you there.”

“Dyl,” you said, patting his cheek. “I have to work. Go. I will see you soon.”

He smiled, giving you a wink before taking off, running into Posey. You watched him until he disappeared into the crowd, but not before he turned to look back at you, sipping from his bottle to hide the obvious smile. You blushed, fixing your headset to continue your work.

At the end of the hour you wandered towards the bar, sitting at it to wait for the chocolate-haired actor. You were about to take a sip of the beer you got when two arms wrapped around your waist, the person’s chin on your shoulder. “She’s here!” they hollered, Dylan’s angelic voice directed in your ear. He placed a wet kiss to your cheek, obviously more buzzed than before, releasing you to slide into the seat next to you.

“Well, hello handsome,” you smiled.

“Hi beautiful,” he returned. “So, tell me about yourself. I want to know everything about the most amazing girl in San Diego.”

“LA, actually.”

“Wait, really?” he asked, appalled.

“Yeah,” you giggled. “I lived in San Diego when I started but I only work when there are conventions. So I make the two hour commute to SDCC every year.”

“Damn,” he mumbled, staring at you intently. “Hottest girl in LA. Hello.”

You laughed, inching closer to him as you immersed in a long conversation with the man. For the next hour, you drank and laughed, chatting with the actor about anything and everything. You shared likes and dislikes, stories of your pasts, and even talked about current projects that you were doing. You just took turns asking each other about things leading to a lack of dull moments between you both. You loved hearing about the man just as he seemed to be thrilled about everything you told him, never letting his eyes stray from you as you talked. You didn’t pay attention to the diminishing crowd, only focusing on the Dylan.

“So, you claim you can’t sing but you go to karaoke all the time?” you asked through a laugh, Dylan rolling his eyes.

“Karaoke with my friends is fun!” he defends. “We’re just really drunk normally and sing horribly together.”

“You must have some great friends though,” you hummed. “You know, I’ve been wondering something. Why didn’t you stop me during that panel?”

“I don’t know,” he hummed. “I think part of me was interested in the idea of being blown publicly during a Comic Con panel but the other part of me was thinking ‘Damn, this beautiful girl is interested in blowing me.’ Then the bathroom.” He rubbed his cheek in thought. “I can’t say for sure.”

“I see,” you hummed. You stared at him, thinking about everything you knew about the man. “Oh my God. I just remember you were dating Britt Robertson, right? I didn’t even think about that. I didn’t like… make you cheat on her or anything right? Oh my god, I’m a horrible person.”

Dylan laughed. “No. We broke up when I started filming the Maze Runner actually. Just drifted apart because of working all the time. We still chat occasionally and she’s happily dating some guy she met on her most recent film. You didn’t ruin anything and you aren’t a horrible person. If I were dating, I would have stopped you, alright? I’m not going to cheat on my girlfriend because some wonderful female is willing to suck me off randomly.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he reassured you. “No harm done, I promise. Plus, I enjoyed what we did way too much. I don’t think I could reasonably enjoy it knowing I had a girlfriend.” He leaned on the bartop, staring at you. “”And, if I’m being honest, Britt was great but you were better. I have never had better orgasms. I’ve never had a better blow job. I’ve never had that great of sex, and that was in a bathroom!”

“You know, I thought the same thing,” You told him. “It was better than anything. You were better than anyone. I always knew you were great because I told you how big a fan I am, but man, it’s insane how much better you are than what I imagined.”

“I’m flattered,” he said. “You know, maybe I’m just tired of being single. It’s been over a year and man, does it suck. I want an amazing girl to call my own again.”

“Oh God, do I get that. The last guy I was with ended up being a total prick and left me because I had to drive to Anaheim for Wondercon. It took a bit to get over it and now I just realize how lonely I am. Then I met you and I feel myself falling for you. I can’t get you out of my mind. It was a risk to do what I did, but I don’t regret it.” You laughed at yourself, shaking your head. “I’m probably talking too much. I think I’ve had too much to drink. And I’m probably just making you dislike me because I’m just super crazy and silly and not what you thought I would be. And I don’t blame you if you want to run away and not call-”

He silenced you with a kiss, your body melting into his touch. His hand caressed your cheek, the pads of his thumb running along your cheekbone slowly. He kept you close, his lips dragging down down with a subtle smack. He pulled away slowly, eyes barely open as he spoke. “You’re not turning me away at all. Quite the opposite really. You’re so silly, I just want to stay and listen to you ramble all day. You’re so amazing, Y/N.”

“Not really. I’m just me,” you told him. Your eyes cracked open, staring at his darken orbs.

“Well, I like you,” he said, kissing you again. It was a bit more heated this time, his tongue slipping through a crack in your mouth, tracing your cheeks before pulling away. You let out a small whine, wanting more. His hand ran through your hand, pulling you closer by the back of your head. “You’re so amazing. And it’s been a while since I’ve felt this way for a girl. And the more I get to know you the harder I fall.”

“Just shut up and kiss me you fool.”

Dylan did as you requested, kissing you harshly. The kiss was instantly steamy, Dylan sliding off the bar stool to stand between your legs. His head tilted to get a better angle, his nose hitting yours whenever he pushed harder into you. You returned to kiss, letting him move you as needed, letting him control the kiss completely. Your arms wound around his neck, playing with the hair on the back of his head. You were glad he had left the hat at his hotel because he looked incredibly sexy without it. One of his hands sat on your hip while the other pushed against the small of your back until your chest pressed flat to his. His tongue massaged yours, an intense game of tonsil hockey taking place between you.

He pulled away for air, resting his forehead on yours. “Maybe we can take this back to my hotel,” he whispered lowly, licking his lips. “It’s getting late after all.”

“I’d like that,” you told him back. “Whatever you want, Dylan.”

He tugged you off the chair, downing the remainder of his beer before stumbling towards the exit. His driver was waiting, not questioning when Dylan had you in his arms sliding in the back of the black car. Your lips met his once the door shut, both of you sharing heated kisses the entire drive to the hotel. You had to keep your moans quiet, not wanting to disturb the driver.

The ride was short, Dylan piling out of the car and pulling you into the fancy hotel he was staying in for the weekend. He jammed his finger on the elevator button, bouncing eagerly to get back to his room. You rubbed at his shoulders, his hands finding yours to link your fingers. Once the elevator dinged, you rushed inside, Dylan jabbing at the floor he was on. His lips found your neck before the door shut before your eye, a moan escaping your mouth. His arms circled your waist, playing with the bottom of your shirt.

The ride seemed short and before you knew it, you were shoved against the door of his hotel room, the lock clicking. His lips were back on yours after he pulled his shirt off, yours following immediately after. His veiny hands rested on your sides, tugging you until you were limb for limb, standing flat and pressed between his body and the door.

He backed from the door with your lips attached in a heated connected, messy kisses shared with each step into the room. You kicked off your flats, Dylan struggling to remove his boots as your inched closer to the bed. You were undoing his jeans while he worked on yours, the denim dropping low on your hips after the buttons were popped and the zipper dropped. Your fingers moved to trace his v-lines that became exposed. Dylan let his hands slid in the opening in the back of your jeans to grip your ass tightly.

The back of your knees hit the bed, Dylan tugging his hands out to let you fell back. You watched with dazed and half-lidded eyes as he kissed down your body, trailing between your breasts to your stomach and finally your waist. He kissed along the hem of your jeans before give them a swift tug, pulling the material down your legs. He left them in a pile without care, burying to face between to your legs to kiss your covered core.

He didn’t linger there long, sliding back up your body to kiss you fiercely. You were frantically trying to shove his pants down his legs, the actor kicking in an attempt to rid them from his body. The fell over the edge with a clink of his belt, your hands moving to fumble with his Calvin Kleins. He tugged you into a sitting position before you could get them off, the material ending up bunched around his thighs instead. His arms wrapped around your form, unhooking your bra with a single snap. His fingers dragged the straps down until he could remove the floral print and toss it behind him, far from your mind and body.

Your sloppy kisses kept on, your bodies resorting to rolling on the bed in ecstasy. Your forms rolled against one another perfectly, his hips rocking against yours and yours matching his form. In the middle of the rolls, he was able to kick the boxer briefs off, letting them join his jeans on the carpeted floor. Your tongues battled for dominance, though he was able to win with ease, stroking your tongue lucidly and teasingly.

You ended up on top, pressed flush against him while you kissed. Your breasts were smashed against his broad chest, the hairs that lined the space between his pecs tickling your skin. His hands had found home once more on your ass, pushing it up in the palms and fondling your skin playfully. He played with the edges of your cheeksters, tugging them so they inched down your body bit by bit.

Before he could have the pleasure of getting them off your body, you pulled from the kiss. Dylan let out a disgruntled whine, his voice deep with want. You placed a chaste kiss to his lips before wiggling out of them yourself, dangling the fabric from your fingers. You mumble a taunting ‘whoops’ when they fell to the floor, your body twisting on the bed so you were facing his erect cock that kept teasing your core whenever he rocked his body against yours. It was as brilliant as you recalled, maybe even better.

As they say, third time’s the charm.

His hot, uneven breath fanned at your wet pussy, his hands moving to caress your ass. You felt him part you folds with his thumbs, exposing your entire wet self to the man’s prying eyes. “Holy shit, you’re soaked,” he let out, panting harder than before. “You want me to eat you out, baby?”

“Yes, please,” you whimpered, licking the head of his cock. It twitched happily, Dylan letting out a vibrating groan.

“You please me, sweetheart, and I will please you,” he offered. “I want to please you while you please me.”

You complied silently, wrapping your lips around him. He reciprocated your movement, flicking his tongue through your parted folds. Once he touched you, you moaned around him, trying to focus on bobbing along his shaft. Your nose hit his balls, instantly going for the deepthroating action he loved from the secret blow job you gave him. You fought against the gags, the taste worth it. Your tongue swirled around his shaft in time with his tongue flicking and dipping into your pussy.

You moaned around him, smoothing your tongue over the slit and along the pulsing veins that protruding from his length. He twitched wildly when you hit the sensitive one on the underside, grinning like the Cheshire Cat at the way he reacted. Yet, he returned the favor, playing with your clit, giving it harsh sucks, nipping the swollen nub with his teeth. His tongue proceeded to slide deep into your pussy, circling it quickly until he met your sweet spot, making shivers run up your spine.

You could hear his breathy moans from behind you, eliciting your own moans around him. You shook above him, feeling the knot unraveling. You bobbed harder, trying to urge him to his own and tell him that you were close. Without a second thought, though, not registering if he responded to your efforts, your walls attempted to clamp around his tongue, your fluids dripping onto his taste buds. It seemed as if the taste of you on his tongue made his cock twitch against your cheeks, his seed shooting down your throat in long stringing waves. Dylan lapped at your juices as you swallowed everything he shot into your mouth, relishing the taste the opposite party had to offer.

You pulled away with a pop, taking a sharp breath before licking his tip clean. You could feel Dylan’s chest heaving, his tongue slowly running through your still parted folds to clean you up. When he seemed to be done, you went to roll off of him back onto the bed; only, the bed wasn’t met. You had rolled the wrong direction, your mind buzzing with your orgasm so you didn’t realize you had, finding yourself on the floor instead. You let out a loud grunt of pain, laying sprawled naked against the carpet.

“Oh my God. Y/N, are you ok?” he asked, rushing off the bed to help you up. He wobbled slightly, the alcohol mixed with sexual arousal not having fully worn off from your intense activities. He steadied your body against his, running his hand along your back to ease the pain.

“That was fun,” you muttered sarcastically, Dylan chuckling. He kissed your forehead, hugging you to his chest.

“You’re alright though?”

“I’ll live,” you joked.

Dylan continued to smile, rocking you back and forth. But his cock was still hard, stuffed between your bodies and pulsing incessantly. You giggled, burying your head in his chest. “God, you’re so fucking good. I want to please you all night still. God, I want to make you scream my name until you can’t scream anymore.”

“What’s stopping you?” you bluntly said, looking up at him. You pushed up on your toes, kissing him softly. “Just tell me what you want. I’m all yours. I want you to please me however you want, daddy.”

“Wait,” he mumbled, blinking. “What did you just call me?”

You flushed. “Oh jeez, did I really just say that? I-I meant Dylan.”

“No, no. It’s fine. I…” he licked his lips. “I’ve never been called that before in bed and I would be lying if I said it wasn’t super sexy and that I’m not turned on by it.”

“Really?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he hummed, kissing you deeply. His voice dropped, huskier as he said, “You can call me daddy whenever you want, sweetheart.”

“Mmm,” you hummed playfully, your lips brushing his as you spoke. “Daddy Dyl.”

“Oh yeah,” he rasped. “What do you want Daddy Dyl to do to you, sweetheart?”

Your heart jumped at the sexy tone he held, your thighs becoming slick with your juices. Your shivered at his words, ready to submit yourself completely to whatever he wanted to do. You were comfortable with him and you trusted him completely but the thought of him slamming into you in different ways made you wet. You would do whatever he wanted and never complain because in the end, you knew you would enjoy every second with this wonderful man.

“I can make you feel so good,” he continued to whispered, running his hands along every curve of your body. “I can make you cum so many times. I can make you scream my name. You won’t be able to fuck anyone else after tonight, sweetheart. You’re all mine and I’m all yours. I only want to hear you scream my name - and not in the way a fan does. I want to hear you intimately say it so it haunts my dreams when we are apart.”

You shivered at his words, melting completely. Your legs wobbled uneasily, ready to collapse in happiness. “Anything,” you finally mustered, pushing harder into him. “Anything you want, daddy. Just please, fuck me.”

Goosebumps ran up his arms, joining the veins that stuck out. He licked his lips, amused at how his confidence made you weak. You sat in the palm of his hand and as gentle as he was with you, he wanted to mold you into whatever would make you both happy. You were literal putty to him, shaping up to be the most amazing girl he had ever encountered - both in normalcy and sexually.

“Alright, baby,” he said. “Stay right here.”

He moved to his suitcase, pulling out random things. A box of condoms was placed on the desk near him, your face flushing at the XXL that covered the front of it. Sounds about right. You heard a bag rustling, Dylan mumbling in success before hiding whatever he had behind his back. He motioned you over with the curl of a finger, your footsteps moving before you could tell your mind no; you know, if you wanted to say no.

“Do you trust me?” he asked seriously.

You pondered for a second, already knowing the answer. You had known him a day at most if you consider your first meeting during the Teen Wolf panel, but even then, you knew you could trust him with anything. He made you feel safe. Slowly, you nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Alright,” he hummed. “If at any point you want to stop because it’s too much, you say so. I want you comfortable with this and if you think we are going too fast, I will understand.”

With another nod, he revealed the fluffy blue handcuffs from behind his back. You stared at them for a moment, finally raising your wrists so he could put them on. He gave a small grin, locking the cuffs around your wrists, leaving the key on the desk.

“Can I ask why you have these though?” you joked, clinking the cuffs playfully.

“Tyler,” he said. “It’s a running joke actually since we started coming to Comic Con. We always buy each other a little gift while we are here to commemorate another year on the show. And this year, he bought me these.”

“Any reason why?” you asked. Dylan remained quiet, running his fingers over the tops of your hands.

“I may have mentioned I was crushing on a girl yesterday. So he took it as he was going to help me get laid.”

“I don’t know if I should question or think that’s the most adorable friendship ever,” you cooed. “So, you have a crush?”

“I do,” he breathed, tugging you against him, kissing you lightly. “Her name may be Y/N and she may have blown me secretly under a table and she may be the best girl in LA. And we may not be talking about this because I’m about to bend said crush over this desk to fuck her endlessly.”

You shivered with excitement, leaning your conjoined hands on the desk. Your ass stuck out to him, wiggling side to side with anticipation. “Well, what are you waiting for?” you asked seductively. “Fuck me, daddy.”

“Oh God, yes,” he breathed. He moved behind you with a few long strides, running his length through your folds a few times. He fumbled with the box of condoms, tearing the wrapper open with his teeth. The rubbed slid down his length with ease before he slammed into you from behind. You let out an odd squealing moan, head falling back.

Dylan didn’t wait for you to adjust like he did in the bathroom. The slapping of his strong, bony hips against your ass filled the room, mixing with your loud moans of his name. His hips bucked into your relentlessly, his cock sliding in and out of you rapidly. The feeling was less intense than the bareback sex you had already shared, but he still managed to fill you to the brim.

“You feel so good, daddy,” you whimpered at him, Dylan grunting in response. His hand shot out, tugging at your hair to pull your head back slightly. You were tugged back enough that he was able to lean against your back, turning your head to place his lips to yours. You mewled slightly when they met, your stomach burning from the pleasure on either side of your body. His lips molded with yours completely, his cock never slowing in its thrusts.

“You like me fucking you like this, baby?” he asked against your lips, his hand tightening in your hair. You nodded quickly, mumbling his name in unison. “Let me hear it then. I want to hear you scream for me.”

The hand in your hair moved to your neck, giving it a tight squeeze that made your eyes dot with blackness. You were suffocating but the restriction made your body smolder in the searing fire you sat in. The hand he had kept on your waist move to your leg, helping you lift it so your knee was on the wood top. The new angle made your pussy tighter and his angle deeper, the tip hitting your g-spot every time he pulled out and slid back in. You moaned louder than before, body shaking from the pleasure you were bestowed.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. The subtle actionamde your body wrack with shakes, Dylan knowing he had successfully found one of your many erogenous zones. He continued to tease it, mumbling dirty things repeatedly that made your nails scratch at the desk happily.

His hand connected to your ass in a loud resounding slap, a small scream escaping from the pain and pleasure mix you were undergoing. He carefully caressed the red handprint that was beginning to form, placing a second slap in the same spot. You screamed again, louder this time. Your mind was gone after the second slap, only registering the slaps he gave you, the thrusts of his cock into you that made your walls clench with bliss, and the tight hold on your neck that amplified the overall experience.

“Cum for me, baby,” he grunted, eyes squinting through his own orgasm that was approaching. “Cum for only me. Cum for daddy.”

“Oh God, Daddy Dyl,” you mewled. Dylan shuttered, loving to hear those words. He never thought he would but he couldn’t unhear it after everything that had happened between you both. The name made him weak, his tightened gut ready to snap. Your walls made it hard for him to concentrate, the spasms they were having around him, intensifying the feeling of sex. He watched your toes curl in the open air, wishing he could see the face you made as he made you cum.

With a loud moan, you body collapsed into the desk, shaking with the orgasm that washed over you. Your juices coated the condom around his shaft, hugging him so tight that it was hard to move. Dylan would feel the moisture through the rubber, the heat of your core making his pulse and twitch. And before he could blink, he was grunting out his own orgasm, his seed filling the gap at the tip of the condom. His thrusts eased, riding out your highs and ensuring the condom didn’t break at all before he could pull out.

He pulled out, removing the condom. It was tied off and tossed before he turned your body around, moving your linked arms around his neck. You wobbled in his grasp, Dylan placing a light kiss to your nose. You smiled and giggled, running your fingers through his frazzled locks.

“How are you feeling?” he asked sincerely.

“A tiny bit sore but I feel like I’m in heaven right now.”

“So,” he started, dragging out the ‘o’. “Does that mean you’re up for more?”

“More of daddy Dyl?” you asked, Dylan giving a somewhat cocky smirk. “Depends what he has planned next. How is daddy going to please his sweetheart?”

“I have an idea,” he mumbled, kissing you softly. He moved your hands from his neck. Smacking your ass to usher you towards the bed. “Lay on your back, baby. And don’t you dare move a muscle.”

You did as he said, swaying your hips as you headed for the bed, laying back flat to the mattress. Your hands rested on your stomach, waiting for Dylan to make his move. He grabbed a black tie from his suitcase and the box of condoms, placing them beside you before stradling you. He leaned over you, his lips missing yours to place kisses down your jaw to your neck, finally trailing them to your chest. He moved your hands above your head, letting his lips wrap around your erect nipple.

Your back arched from the bed, your hands not above your head longer than a minute. Your fingers twisted in his hair, tugging at the roots as he ravished your chest, kissing at your nipples. He tugged them playfully, blowing cool air over them before flicking them with his tongue. They were rigid from his actions, standing taut for his dark honey eyes. He let his hand fondle the other breast, tweaking the nipple between two fingers, tugging it playfully.

He swapped breasts, repeating the process, succeeded in drawing out more moans from you. Your tugs got harder, yanking the roots from his scalp at your pleasure. Your legs bent on either side of him, wishing to ease the throbbing that was forming between them. Your were stopped by his hips, your legs digging into his sides and threatening to crush him where he laid.

He finally pulled away with a distinct pop, watching your chest heave with ragged pants. He grinned, kissing his way between your breasts up to you lips, kissing them swiftly. His body inched up, carefully perching himself against your ribs. His cock laid in the valley of your breasts, hard and oozing with precum. His hips oscillated back and forth between your breasts, grazing your skin as he did.

“I want to cum on your face,” he whispered deeply, your face flushing. Your hands reached up to him, Dylan taking your hands in his. The way you laid, your arms hugged your breasts around his shaft. “Fuck, just like that.”

His rocking against your torso sped up, his cock sliding between your pushed together breasts with surprising ease. There was a bit of friction but it felt phenomenal. His hands squeezed at yours, his eyes closing to focus on the feeling of your soft mounds around him. He grunted in appreciation, speeding up occasionally.

You struggled to lift your head, trying to lick at the tip, wanting to taste the precum he was secreting. Dylan grunted louder, hearing your mewl when the salty sweet liquid hit your tastebuds. Your back arched under him, squirming from your lack of attention. You needed more of him but you could only deal with the droplets you were able to muster from the tip.

Dylan’s nose flared with his increased breathing, his cock twitching involuntarily between your inner breasts. He was mumbling how he was close, his lips puckering in concentration. He was chasing his orgasm, the peaks getting harder to come by. But he was able to muster his orgasm, cracking his eyes open with his loud groan. Your mouth was open, tongue extended so the streams of hot cum that spewed from the tip sink straight down your throat. Drops of course coated your cheeks and chest, some even getting in your hair, but he was able to get most to land on your tongue. It was hard to milk him for every drop he had built back up considering the lack of firm grip around him, but he managed to have a fantastic release.

He grabbed a handful of tissues from the bedside table, cleaning what he could from your skin. The bits that stuck in your hair were harder to get out, both of you knowing you would have to shower later. He moved back between your legs, tugging you up by the chain of the handcuffs.

“Still ok?” he asked.

“I’m horny,” you admitted. Dylan cracked a large smile, sliding a hand between your bodies to touch your tender clit. You moaned loudly the second he hit it, his fingers coated in layers of arousal.

“Fuck, you are,” he grunted, feeling his cock harden post-orgasm. He grabbed the tie, licking his lips. “You still trust me?”

“Stop asking. You know I do,” you laughed. “Tho I am trying to figure out why you have a tie.”

“I always bring some kind of dressy wear for these events. You never know when you will be asked to dress fancy,” he chuckled.

“So, instead of being fancy, you’re going to…?”

Dylan smiled, tying the tie around your eyes, your world going black. Your ears twitched when he spoke up, knotting the tie behind your head. “I’ve heard that blindfolding your girl can heighten the feeling of sex. Because it’ll help stimulate your other senses. And I want to give you the most mind blowing orgasm you’ve ever had.”

“Been there, Dyl,” you laughed. “All my orgasms with you have been better than any I’ve had before.”

“Excuse me. What did you call me?” he hummed deeply. He spanked your ass, making you jump against his chest. The feeling of his slap was definitely heightened already, your body shaking in pleasure. “What’s my name, baby?”

“Daddy,” you said quietly, Dylan spanking you again.

“Louder.”

“Daddy,” you tried to say firmly, though your voice cracked.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” he asked, spanking you a third time.

“Fuck me,” you pleaded. “I want daddy to fuck me. Fuck me hard and fast. I want daddy to rub my clit until I cum all over his large cock. I want daddy to please me in the way only he can.”

“Alright, that was hot,” he let out, pushing you back to the bed. You bounced slightly, unable to tell what he was doing between your legs. You squirmed uncomfortably, waiting for him to do something, the agony of your uncovered pussy becoming unbearable. It was hurting because of the lack of release you had watching him fuck your breasts and all you wanted right now was for him to be inside you.

Your eyes rolled back i your head when he slammed into you, pistoning into you vehemently from the get go. He was groaning loudly, holds your knees as he slid into you, the skin of your thighs sticking to him with sweat. Your head fell back into the pillows, back arching far off the bed because of his tip constantly tapping at your g-spot and cervix, the pleasure and bliss you felt from him being inside you ten times higher than normal. You screamed for him loudly, Dylan more than pleased with the sound.

His hands moved to the back of your knees, lifting your legs into the air. His delicate fingers slid up your legs until they were on your calves. Your legs were fully extended at this point, Dylan spreading them wide to form a V shape. His hips rolled against your core, hitting your clit and digging as deep as he could. You screamed as loud as you could, your throat beginning to hurt but you absolutely loved the feelings you were getting.

He kept his promise of going hard and fast, the ceaseless clapping of his hips against you echoing around the room. His speed was godly and he shoved himself deep inside you with every thrust he did. Your ass lifted from the bed when he was hilt deep, the strength of his thrusts pulling you off the bed.

“Oh god,” you panted. “Fuck me daddy, fuck me daddy, fuck me daddy,” you chanted, twisting anxiously on the bed. Dylan grit his teeth, his own head falling back at the noises you made.

He draped your legs over his shoulders, moving down to rub rapid circles to your clit. You squealed when the pads connected to the engorged nub, rubbing at it as fast as he could. He could hear your voice wavering in your chants, your body quaking under him. Your walls clenched involuntarily, hugging around him in sharp spasms. You had completely lost control of your body, your body aching with the orgasm you needed. You almost wanted him to stop, the pleasure becoming too much, but you were so close to your release. You craved it.

“Oh God,” you gasped. “Oh God. I love you Dylan. Oh God, yes! Fuck yes!”

Dylan watched through hazy eyes as you came, liquids squirting out against his fingers and abs. You shook violently, a elongated moan filling the small hotel room. Your walls clung to him, juices spilling out around him and coating your walls. Your toes curled and you arched off the bed, your arms falling above your head, still shackled by the blue fluff. Dylan stuck his tongue out at the way your perky breasts stood up happily, somewhat flopped to the side without a bra to keep them in place. He thought it was still beautiful the way your nipples stood upright when you arched off the mattress. He admired the way your face contorted with bliss, taking a mental picture to remember always.

He finally grunted, his messy thrusts easing as he came, his seed spilling out of the tip. It was the most powerful orgasm he could remember having in his lifetime, more sperm escaping even after three other orgasms. He used one hand to draw circles to your leg, his face burying into the opposite one to relax from his high. He placed soft kisses to your skin, finally coming to a stop.

Your legs were dropped and the tie was removed from your face after he pulled out. You blinked multiple times, trying to adjust to the low light, your orgasm having blinded you completely for a moment when you blacked out. You watched him stand from the bed, rolling off the condom you hadn’t realized he put on, tossing it with the other one. The wrapper still sat torn open on the bedside table.

Dylan grabbed the key from the desk, removing the handcuffs from your wrists. He placed light kisses to the red marks that had formed before kissing your lips. He crawled into bed next to you, pulling the duvet over your already hot bodies.

“I cranked up the AC because I’m fucking sweating like a pig,” he said, playing with your hair. “But I’m too lazy to shower.”

“Same,” you chuckled.

“So, you won’t leave me in the middle of the night, right? This wasn’t just a one night stand because of the effects of alcohol?” he asked, half serious and half joking.

“I’m pretty sure the alcohol wore off around when you fucked me over the desk,” you giggled. Dylan smiled, kissing the side of your face multiple times. You turned to look at him, staring at his bright honey eyes. “You know, I really like you. Is that silly?”

“No,” he said, kissing you sweetly. “I get it. Because I like you too. And you know you totally said you loved me before you came?”

You blushed, hiding in his shoulder. “Spur of the moment.”

“It’s fine. In time, you will love me,” he quipped. He hugged you close, running his fingers along your back. “So, when we get back to LA, you’ll let me take you out on a date, right?”

“I don’t know,” you mused. “Should I let you take me out?”

“I damn well hope so,” he laughed. “We did things a bit backwards, but it was definitely worth it.”

“Well, when you put it that way,” you mused again, kissing him softly. “Tell me a time and date and I will be there for an amazing date.”

“Good,” he laughed. He moved to grab his phone, holding it above your heads to snap a photo despite your nude forms. He placed another kiss to your lips, snapping the photo of you both embracing. He easily captioned it ‘My girl’ in the photo. He texted you the photo, dropping his phone back on the table, mumbling something about him saving that for later. Probably a wallpaper or to put on the secret Instagram he told you he had so only his friends, and you now that you had it, would know. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“What for?”

“For making this an unforgettable Comic Con.”

“I should be saying that to you,” you laughed. You curled into each other, hands clasped tightly between your bodies. “Thank you for the best Comic Con ever.”

“Just do me a favor,” he chimed, kissing your forehead. “Never risk blowing me under the table again. I won’t be able to stay quiet next time.”

You giggled, nodding. “Noted.”

“And remember, what happens at Comic Con stays at Comic Con,” he laughed, poking your nose. You smiled, nodding again.

“Double noted.”

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