hands on the wheel

early 30s bisexual exploring desire

[sephines]

just a little intro: i'm a bisexual woman in my early 30s using this blog as a safe space to express and explore my desires and fantasies. i also sometimes use this as a place to journal about my relationship with sex, which includes a history of sexual trauma, so bear that in mind. sometimes i do just go off on random tangents sort of unrelated. my pronouns are she/her.

i write the occasional smutty fan fic, at the moment purely focused on declan o'hara from rivals, who has bewitched me body and soul for many months now, but in the future there may be others! just really want to follow what feels right and see where that takes me 💋

i'd like to share here because i think there's something lovely and healing and joyful about sharing desires with others and the kind of communities that can form around sharing fics and fantasies about the people we're lusting over, and it might be that what i'm into others will appreciate too, but i will be writing for myself first and foremost. also on ao3 as sephines

declan fic: you say you wanna go slow

[sephines]

been getting sooo many new likes on my declan fic since the trailer came out! it’s cool to see that the fandom is becoming active again!

[sephines]

here to talk about my feelings around another obsession/how autism & adhd affect sex/reconciling wanting to fuck men with the fact that most men don't seem safe to engage w etc

became absolutely obsessed with an influencer on instagram over the past month. they're around my age and live in a nearby city. this has proved to be far more deadly than my usual obsessions with full blown celebrities because they seem so much more accessible (ie my dating them is not totally out of the realm of possibility) and therefore my fantasies have seemed much more tangible

the lovely illusion i was living in in which he was essentially my boyfriend all came crashing down yesterday when i finally got it into my head that it is still incredibly unlikely that this would ever come to pass. and now i am feeling quite depressed and just annoyed... that what was a really fun crush that was bringing some joy to my daily life and allowing me to explore my romantic and sexual desires has once again ended up in this shitty emotional place and now all the fun butterfly feelings have vanished

i just want to talk about and explore what particularly drew me to this guy because it's not something i've really found before. first of all, sexy as hell. comes across smart, articulate, kind, self-assured without being arrogant.

but what i think has really drawn me to him is the way he talks about sex. he's a fellow audhder and his work is all about that experience, and it's been so illuminating and refreshing to see someone just talk plainly, without discomfort or shame, about the experience of sex as someone who is autistic and adhd.

he's spoken about he can swing pretty drastically from hyper- to hyposexuality, and the confusion both internally and in your relationships when your libido and interest in sex can vary so hugely. he's spoken about how hypersexuality can sometimes function as an attempt to meet needs for intimacy that aren't being met, and how that often ends badly because it only ends up highlighting that which you don't have, leaving you feel empty and an even greater sense of yearning.

he's spoken about how sensory sensitivities with autism can mean that sex (even with the same person, even in the same context) can feel amazing one time and terrible the next, or the switch from amazing to terrible can happen partway through, and how it's near impossible to predict which one it'll be or if/when it'll suddenly switch.

this is something that has plagued me all of my sexual life, so to speak, and has caused so much internal distress because it's left me so confused as to whether i actually was attracted to the people i was hooking up with, how real my desires were etc. i had already learned in the past year that this was an autistic thing, but he articulated it in a way that resonated with me more than anything i'd heard on the topic before.

he also spoke about how this creates a lot of difficulty around consent, because we as autistic people will often consent to something when we are feeling it, only to very much no longer be feeling it 10 minutes later, and because of our slow processing it will take us too long to process what's going on, we'll be unable to stop and articulate it either to ourselves or the other person in the moment, and therefore will frequently find ourselves engaging in sex that we don't want to be engaging in and often traumatised as a result

admittedly, a relationship between two people with these issues would probably be quite complicated. but sex has always been so difficult for me and my relationships with sexual partners so confusing and opaque, with this feeling that i just have to keep my bizarre relationship with sex to myself and come across as normal as possible.

the idea of being with someone who has a similar experience of sex as i do, with whom there'd be an implicit understanding, with whom there'd be communication about this and the ability to check in with one another etc was a revelation.

he's also spoken about how important it is for him to check in with sexual partners frequently during and after sex, to check they're okay, to know what they're enjoying and not enjoying, to know what they want etc.

essentially everything he says about sex makes me think he would be a caring, attentive and understanding partner. ultimately, someone i (theoretically) could have a genuinely safe and open sexual relationship with. for me to get that feeling from someone at all, let alone someone i am absolutely insanely attracted to, is pretty much unheard of. like, oh, i want to fuck this guy so bad it's making me look stupid, and he would genuinely understand my experience of sex and be able to create a safe space for me and be open and communicative.

especially, y'know, in my attractions to men, something i'm repeatedly coming up against is my desire for sex with them vs the knowledge that most men are not going to be safe sexual partners, whether through outright malice or disregard for their female partners or simple lack of knowledge around consent and communication.

he also seems like someone who has genuinely unlearned a lot of sexism/has feminist values (as opposed to it being performative, though i could be wrong) and has said that he struggles with gender dynamics in dating as a straight man bc he both doesn't feel any enormous sense of attachment to his own gender and isn't interested in engaging in gender roles in relationships. which is very much how i feel.

i'm also, as i've spoken about on this blog before, discovering and exploring more kinky desires recently, and whilst he hasn't explicitly spoken about kink, he has responded positively to people discussing the link between autism and kink in his comments. this plus his disinterest in traditional gender dynamics plus his seeming ability to create a safe sexual environment means in my head i'm like...ughhh.....he seems like the perfect person to have a hot, kinky, switchy dynamic with. i dream of being able to really let go and play and surrender to my desires with a man i'm both incredibly attracted to and wholly safe with.

and that just seems so hard to come by!

[sephines]

I’ve developed a huge crush on Jacob Elordi recently and have unfortunately basically speedrun through my usual pattern of crush - hyperfixation - limerence - depression

In a matter of days it’s been:

Yay! Fun crush! Fantasies! Desires! I love this guy! 🥰

Cannot think about or focus on anything else to great detriment to my daily life. No thoughts just Jacob Elordi 😵‍💫

Fantasy no longer enough. I must date Jacob Elordi. (Or at least entertain the idea that it could be possible in some alternate universe). *Look into all of Jacob Elordi’s girlfriends. Come crashing down into reality* There is no chance in hell this man would ever date me. I am a worthless piece of trash. How can I fantasise about him now? 😭

Floating in weird limbo where I am still very much obsessed with Jacob Elordi but can no longer derive any joy from it and instead just feel depressed 😖

I love being insane!

[longestfeckindriveway]

Decided to write some Declan/Daysee smut... because the idea of a post-season-one-and-newly-single Declan trying to wrap his head around wanting to shag Daysee was too fun to ignore.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[sephines]

having some difficult feelings around some sexual interactions i've had recently, just need to write it out (tw some mentions of sexual trauma)

so there's this person i've been sexting with, just on the odd occasion over the last few months. gonna try and be kinda vague on the off chance that they ever see this (tho unlikely). they write about sex in a way i enjoy, we're pretty sexually compatible, and when we're talking they're kind and respectful.

on the one hand it's fun to actually engage w someone sexually, and it gives me an opportunity to sit with my feelings and think about what i like and set boundaries and actually be assertive and say 'hey, i'm not into such-and-such', all things which are incredibly hard for me to do in a sexual context. i've been saddened to find this is even difficult for me when sexting, but when actually having sex with a person it's often impossible, so this is a realm in which i can actually build up those skills.

on the other, like....man....i am discovering that i just can't have any sexual interactions with anyone and be chill about it. this person is a total stranger. we have never talked to one another outside of a sexual context. all we're doing is sexting. and yet my attachment issues are still rearing their ugly heads! i don't enjoy just being an anonymous stranger with someone i'm engaging with sexually. it doesn't feel good to me.

part of me feels like, 'god, really?! you even have these feelings in this context?!' it feels a bit pathetic. and i have to recognise and be aware that those feelings of emotional attachment have almost nothing to do with them as a person, because i barely know them. but i also need to be kind to myself and acknowledge that these feelings are fine and valid, and respect and listen to them and realise they're telling me something i need to hear. which i guess is that when it comes to anything sexual i need a bit...more....from the other person.

like, this person is clearly very busy and i know sexts with a ton of people. i am just one of many to them and probably don't cross their mind outside of their interactions with me. for me, when i'm sexting with someone, i want (need?) it to be like we're sharing a sexual experience and are present with one another during. like, if i'm sexting with someone i'm focusing only on our conversation, probably in bed getting myself off, and i want the other person to be doing the same.

but with this person the convo's all broken up, they're clearly busy and talking to other people and will disappear for big chunks of time and sometimes just disappear completely right in the middle and never return. and i'm not saying they're doing anything wrong, they're just a stranger, they're obviously approaching this in a different way to me, and they don't owe me anything bar basic kindness and respect. but it just really makes me feel bad! i'm realising that even when it comes to sexting, i really need to feel safe with and held by the other person and to feel like there's a mutual understanding as to what the interaction is. because even though it's just words on a screen it still ultimately feels intimate and vulnerable to me.

if i'm in that sexual headspace with someone and i'm engaging with them and sharing my desires, and especially if i'm being more submissive, which i have been recently, i get into this place where i just feel needy and vulnerable, and i suppose when i'm in that emotional state i need to be engaging with someone who makes me feel safe and held within it. and like i said, this person is kind and respectful, but a person who isn't really present with me and just keeps disappearing and is clearly not as invested in our interactions as i am just doesn't make me feel that way!

recently we were sexting and i had just gotten to a place where i was feeling suuuper desperate, and was both feeling and being very vulnerable in the way i was writing. and then they just disappeared! which when i'm in that state leaves me feeling weirdly emotionally abandoned. and they haven't messaged me since, despite being online a lot and posting sexy things since. so they're obviously just....not bothered about replying to me or 'finishing' that interaction in any way. which really brings up a lot of my attachment issues and trauma - it makes me feel rejected and neglected and abandoned and angry.

which makes me feel crazy! because i'm like girl! this is just a stranger who you have no kind of relationship with! to them i'm just some random person they exchange sexy messages with every now and then. and technically they're that to me as well, except apparently i can't engage in this way without my emotions getting involved. it's not a case of my consciously wanting any kind of further relationship with this person, or theoretically with anyone i engage with sexually - it's just that on a totally emotional, instinctual, deep-rooted level, i can't help but need to feel....cared for...by someone i'm engaging with sexually. i just can't be an anonymous fuck buddy with no kinds of expectations of the other person without feeling like shit. even when it comes to sexting apparently. i'm trying to be kind to myself and remember that i am someone who has an extensive history of sexual trauma from a young age. like...yeah...no shit i feel this way! no shit i need to feel especially safe and for there to be clear expectations and boundaries around sexual interactions, especially if i'm in a submissive headspace.

i just a) do not feel good. i think frankly i'm feeling triggered and weird and then shame around that bc i feel it's partly down to my own lack of boundaries with myself around sex, and b) frustrated and disappointed bc i've always wanted to be able to have casual sex and explore and sleep with lots of different people and be sexually adventurous (not out of any feeling that i should be doing that, but because it genuinely appeals to me and my sexual desires), and this is yet more evidence that it's unlikely i'm ever going to be able to do that, or at least that it's going to be incredibly difficult to navigate and find a way to do that that feels right for me.

i guess if i really want someone to sext with i need to be more intentional about it and find someone who wants to be present with me and see the interaction through to the end and then some. it's like....the difference between a fuck buddy who you run across in the club who gets you all worked up and needy in a bathroom stall and then leaves and doesn't bother contacting you again, versus one who you arrange to meet up with at your place who chats with you beforehand and cuddles with you afterwards and makes sure you're okay. i probably shouldn't message this person anymore, problem is when i'm horny i have no self-discipline and can't think straight

sigh...sometimes i feel like maybe it's not even fair for me to engage sexually with anyone outside of a committed romantic relationship bc all my trauma stuff makes everything so complicated

[mewnbuns]

men who are not into PDA but are on you almost immediately after the door to a private space closes behind you, all of their longing and waiting suddenly so obvious when it’s being pushed between your lips and they can’t grab enough of you at once

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hey!! just recently discovered your Declan fics and um, yeah you ate that. so good. any chance you’d take a request on reader and declan having a sweet intimate moment together like where reader is trimming his hair or shaving his face and then it gets steamy. ugh just love that guy. and you! thanks for your consideration 🩶🩶🩶

this is so sweet :(( here’s a little declan blurb because i’ve missed writing him

“Stop fuckin’ wriggling.”

He quirks an eyebrow, looking at you with poorly disguised amusement painted across his face.

“Don’t swear at me, young lady,” he teases.

“I wouldn’t have to swear if you weren’t moving around so much.”

A chuckle rumbles through his chest, all hearty and full of cheekiness.

He’s sat on a chair in his kitchen in nothing but his boxer shorts, hair sticking up in all directions. You’re standing in between his legs, strong thighs parted to make room for you to fit comfortably.

You’ve got the silver hairdressing scissors in your hand, snipping away at the pieces of his hair that you deem too long. You’ve never done this before, but you like to think that if you approach it carefully, you can’t go wrong.

You’d walked in on him looking in the mirror in the bathroom, trying to slick his hair into place to no avail. He was huffing and puffing, running his fingers through it repeatedly in a useless attempt to style it how he usually does.

“You need to cut it,” he’d groaned dramatically. “Cut it for me before I pull it out.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Please,” he whispered, looking at you with those big brown eyes. “Please, sweetheart.”

There’s no world in which you can say no to a request like that.

Which brings you here, cutting Declan’s hair in the kitchen at lunchtime on a Thursday.

His hands wander upwards, skimming up your thighs to rest on your hips. His palms are so large and so warm, the heat from them instantly soaking into your skin. It’s awfully distracting, having a man as beautiful as he is looking up at you like you hung the moon.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“You know what.”

“Do I?”

He’s grinning at you like the cat that got the cream, all self satisfied and content.

“Do you want me to do a good job of this? Because if you keep distracting me, you’re going to have the worst haircut that Rutshire has ever seen.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he drawls, pulling you down so you’re straddling his lap.

“Declan-”

“The haircut can wait. This can’t. Understood?”

“Understood,” you whisper as his hand slides up your skirt. “Completely understood.”

[sephines]

bc I’ve been watching SATC I keep getting curious about the way people approach dating, and I just had a look on Reddit to see people’s experiences re how many dates they typically go on before having sex. Putting aside the frankly alarming comments from lots of men (just in the way they speak about women), I’m really surprised that I haven’t seen one person say they like to wait longer simply because it’s….hot

Am I a real anomaly here?

I just…really love the anticipation, the mounting sexual tension, the feeling that you’re playing a game with one another that you’re both in on…both just flirting with and teasing one another… That’s foreplay to me. To me it’s just a billion times hotter than having sex with someone straight away, even if you do want to rip their clothes off

[sephines]

also the amount of men saying shit like ‘if she hasn’t slept with me by the third date she might just be dating me for free meals’…..straight people can be so weird. Just pay for your own shit or go halves like the rest of us

[sephines]

bc I’ve been watching SATC I keep getting curious about the way people approach dating, and I just had a look on Reddit to see people’s experiences re how many dates they typically go on before having sex. Putting aside the frankly alarming comments from lots of men (just in the way they speak about women), I’m really surprised that I haven’t seen one person say they like to wait longer simply because it’s….hot

Am I a real anomaly here?

I just…really love the anticipation, the mounting sexual tension, the feeling that you’re playing a game with one another that you’re both in on…both just flirting with and teasing one another… That’s foreplay to me. To me it’s just a billion times hotter than having sex with someone straight away, even if you do want to rip their clothes off

[sephines]

in my head again re scarcity complex around men. it's weird because i can feel really excited about these fantasies i'm having in my head but then it's like i come crashing back down to reality and realise...oh. this is very much just in my head and i may never actually feel this way about a man i meet in real life.

(maybe sort of repeating myself a bit here but i am saying some new things lol)

it's just very clear to me how few individual men i find myself attracted to. i have had some other celeb crushes outside of aidan turner over the past couple years, but not that many, and a lot of the time i think i'm partially drawn to the chemistry they share with a female co-star - it's hard to tell whether i'd be into them if it were me interacting with them.

like, i've almost finished 3 seasons of sex and the city and haven't found myself attracted to one (1) of the billions of men on this show. i did all my browsing on tinder and though there were a decent amount of hot guys who were theoretically my type, i wasn't bowled over by any of them. the other day those meet cute shorts popped up on my yt feed - watched a bunch of them, none of these dudes hold any appeal to me despite many of them being perfectly good-looking. when i listen to erotic audios i more often than not find that those with male voices and moans etc make me cringe or even feel straight-up repulsed (vs women's voices and moans which are pretty much guaranteed to turn me on). when i watch porn i'm often attracted to the man's body but can tell i wouldn't actually want to fuck him himself.

it makes me question if my desire for men is something that would actually translate to reality at all. sometimes i wonder if it's something that just exists in the fantasy land in my head. but then i think about someone like aidan and a lot of the characters he plays, declan especially, and i'm like - i am so attracted to everything about him, hearing his voice does really turn me on...i think if he materialised in front of me irl i would still be into him. (i'm not 100% sure, though - there often seems to be a gap between what i can enjoy in fantasy and reality, and i never know until it's happening, which apparently is very common in autistic people...cursed by neurodivergence yet again). but my best guess is that i just am incredibly fussy when it comes to men

and the reason this is really bothering me is something i've been hesitant to open up about, but i know a) barely anyone is reading this, and b) those of you who do will not care lol. and that's that my attraction to women has gone wayyy down this year. it's still there, and i still feel attracted to so many more individual women than men, but it's typically a low level attraction, you know? i still feel drawn to and turned on by women, if i think about them sexually i'm like, 'yeah, that would probably be hot and nice and a good time'.

but i'm not feeling this intense, overwhelming, i-need-to-rip-your-clothes-off, i-need-your-hands-all-over-me desire that i'm feeling for men. i'm not fantasising about women in any depth. and when i try it out it's just... not really doing it for me the way it used to. which is frankly alarming and unsettling having felt such strong desire towards women most of my life. i know that it's common for bisexuals to experience fluctuations in their gender preferences, so i guess that's what's happening, and hopefully/probably that intense desire for women will come back at some point. but right now, at least, it feels like my desires could only be met by men and specifically like....maybe 3 men in existence?? so like? how are they ever going to be met at all??

[sephines]

spent this morning lying in bed reading comedic timing by upasna barath, which is a romance novella about a woman who's just broken up with her long-term girlfriend falling for a man for the first time, and i am sooo into it and the love interest and it's making me feel all warm and turned-on and giddy. gave myself like...7 incredible orgasms, then just lay in bed half-asleep dozing on and off feeling so relaxed and peaceful and dreamy and good in my body

[sephines]

also this has got me dreaming about being on holiday somewhere warm with a lover and staying in a luxury hotel and going out dancing all night and then spending the entire next day lounging in bed with the sun streaming through the curtains doing nothing but drifting in and out of sleep and cuddling and fucking and ordering decadent room service

[sephines]

spent this morning lying in bed reading comedic timing by upasna barath, which is a romance novella about a woman who's just broken up with her long-term girlfriend falling for a man for the first time, and i am sooo into it and the love interest and it's making me feel all warm and turned-on and giddy. gave myself like...7 incredible orgasms, then just lay in bed half-asleep dozing on and off feeling so relaxed and peaceful and dreamy and good in my body

[stellamarielu]

show me

john mitchell x female reader

summary: bloodlust and sexual desire have become one in the same to mitchell making it increasingly difficult to have a normal relationship. so when you find yourself frustrated by the lack of physical intimacy, he figures out a way to solve the problem

content: nsfw, 18+, cursing, mentions of blood, mentions of death, a little bit of angst, a sprinkle of fluff, a shit ton of dirty talk, mutual masturbation [kinda], basically mitchell just wants to watch you get off, fingering, squirting? [lord forgive me]

authors note: first mitchell fic let’s go!! so, I wanted to start with something more tame for mitchell since it was my first time writing for his character, but i did no such thing. this is just full speed no brakes very smutty so if that’s not your jam just keep scrolling! there is some fluff and a little bit of angst but other than that it's just filth

-

It had been nearly a month since you learned the truth about Mitchell. What started as innocent interactions and flirtatious jokes turned into the two of you regularly going for drinks at the local pub. Before you knew it, your casual little dates led to you joining him and his roommates for movie nights at their home which always ended with you both cuddled up next to each other on the couch. 

Mitchell tried not to let you into his complicated life but failed miserably after the first time he felt that warm fuzzy sensation in his chest when he saw you. You had him wrapped around your finger in a way no one ever had, so much so that he started referring to you as his girlfriend, which of course made George and Annie annoyingly giddy. They absolutely adored you and thought you’d be good for Mitchell, someone to motivate him– to ground him. It all happened so quickly but you couldn’t help it, neither of you could. You were completely infatuated with one another; it was almost sickening. 

But of course, along with the fresh adoration of a new partner also came their baggage. It was something you expected. What you weren’t expecting however, were the skeletons in Mitchell’s closet to be so literal.

He had gone back and forth about telling you the truth and of course Annie had convinced him to be honest with you.

“If your feelings for her are real and you want a genuine relationship you have to tell her Mitchell.” 

He knew she was right, but it didn’t stop the anxiety weighing on his chest at the thought of rejection. It was terrifying. The possibility that you would run screaming kept him putting it off day after day until one night the two of you were having dinner at your apartment and it just kind of stumbled out of his mouth. 

“A Vampire?” 

The words slipped from you in a giggle, your face full of amusement at his confession. You figured he must’ve been trying to make some kind of stupid joke until you noticed his dead serious demeanor.

When he refused to meet your tickled expression with a smile of his own, your brain started running laps around itself trying to piece together the last few weeks of your life. Confusion and fear filled your senses and for a split second it felt like you were sitting across from a complete stranger. Despite your inner dialogue telling you to run, you didn’t leave. You didn’t even get up from your seat. You just sat and waited for him to explain himself further. 

So he did. He told you everything.

It took hours of explanations from him and hesitant stares from you, but after a night of discussing his condition you were sure he was telling the truth, and you were also somehow open to it. 

Mitchell was surprised by how understanding you had been about the whole thing. After the initial shock, the two of you laid on your couch until the sun came up and you interrogated him about his supernatural lifestyle.

he answered every last question. 

You learned about the different cities he’d lived in, the people he had known throughout his long life, who he once was, who he still longed to become. You admired his desire to live differently than the others like him. 

Even after listening to the man next to you give hour’s worth of evidence proving he was a bloodthirsty killer, you still managed to fall asleep in his arms. At the end of the day, it was still Mitchell; Mitchell who mopped floors and made crude jokes, Mitchell who was always there to give you a comforting smile or lighthearted wink when you were having a rough day, Mitchell who you had fallen head over heels for, Mitchell who wanted to be human so badly that he was attempting sobriety from the very thing his body craved most. Nothing could change the way you felt for him and so you held it together when he told you a secret about himself that he was sure would have your relationship unraveling.  

Only he didn’t tell you everything. There was one little detail about his life that he left out that night. He told you about the countless people he killed– about the guilt that ate away at him as he remembered their faces. He even confessed to you that he had given in to his bloodlust not long before you met. All the grim details about his murderous tendencies were true, but he made sure to leave out the part about how he killed them. 

You knew that he drank away their lives, that he consumed their blood until there was nothing left of them. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell you that it so often started by seducing a woman- getting her naked in bed, writhing and vulnerable underneath him. He hated that he’d weaponized sex for so long that he could no longer differentiate his longing for blood and his desire for sexual release– the two had become synonymous. It was so bad that anytime he found himself in a heated position with a woman he couldn’t tell if the passion he felt burning in his veins was actual yearning or just a desire to feed. This made his relationship with you extraordinarily difficult. 

You were so handsy. Of course you were. The two of you had been dating for nearly three months and the furthest you’d gone was a clothed second base. 

At first, Mitchell told you he wanted to take things slow, a little odd maybe, but you respected his boundaries and kept the physical touch to a minimum. But time went on, and the restraint you had both practiced began to falter. You started getting little tastes of what it would be like to have his hands on your body and his mouth on your skin it was driving you insane. Every time he kissed you, his lips lingered on yours and there was a certain hint of impatience that always peeked through. You could sense the hunger in the way he would crash his lips on you, his mouth molding to yours and his tongue tracing your bottom lip. Sometimes he would even let his hands find your hips gripping you tightly and pulling you into him as close as possible. Not to mention the little groans that would slip from him when you tugged on his hair. Those little grunts made you want to drop to your knees in front of him and see what other sounds you could pull from his mouth. 

You were constantly reminding yourself to take things slowly, but it was so hard when there was such a strong sexual tension tying the two of you together– or at least you thought there was; but based on the way Mitchell would break your kisses and take his hands off of your body like he just burned them on a stovetop, you were beginning to think maybe he wasn’t craving you in the same way.

Only there was no doubt in his mind that Mitchell wanted to fuck you. He was obsessed with you. He thought about what you looked like naked at least once a day and dreamed about hearing the little whimpers that you’d make when he was finally able to get between your legs. he wanted you, but he was terrified of possibly putting you in danger, so he tried to keep his hands to himself, Just for a little bit. 

At least that’s what he told himself at the beginning. He would work his way up to having sex with you. Like little practice runs, he would let himself give in to the temptation, a make out session here and there, maybe even some heavy petting- but he would always put an end to it before it went any further.

He had to pace himself with you. He needed to be able to control the blood driven part of him that had most of his hookups ending in red stained sheets. You deserved the best part of him. The part that he was convinced was still human. The part that could take his time and indulge in the intimacy of knowing another’s naked body. He knew that part of him still existed- he knew because you brought it out of him. With every touch of your hand to his cheek or the feeling of your sweet lips on his, he felt it. Hell, even when you had your fingers intertwined in his hair, pulling at it while you attacked his neck with kisses, he could feel a deep appreciation for the way you loved him. It was an innocent kind of love. It was pure and gentle and all-consuming and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin it by pushing things too far. He wouldn’t ruin this- ruin you. 

But then you were straddling him on his bed. Your legs spread on either side of his hips as he grabbed onto you, guiding your movements as you slid your fully clothed center over his, your lips meshing in a messy kiss.

The house was empty other than the two of you who were now involved in a very heated make out session in his bedroom. His hands were splayed across your thighs, holding them hungrily and his mouth chasing yours. Neither of you were showing any intentions of holding back, so you took it upon yourself to take things a bit further. 

You let your hands fall to the button of his jeans–undiscovered territory that you were determined to explore at the feeling of his obvious arousal beneath you. Just as you were fumbling with the zipper of his jeans, Mitchell broke your kiss and took a hold of your wrist in an abrupt attempt to stop you. 

You looked down at him, trying your best to hide the defeat you felt from yet another rejection. His eyes looked almost remorseful before he averted his gaze downward to where your hands met, he was tracing little circles on your wrist. 

You were out of breath, chest heaving, and thoughts jumbled. You were trying not to read into it, but this whole situation was so confusing to you. Was there something you didn’t know? He seemed to be enjoying himself just moments ago; so why was he stopping? Did he ever intend to have sex with you? 

“Mitchell, are you attracted to me?” The words flew out of your mouth as you leaned back, still sitting on his lap. 

“What?” 

His expression was a mixture of confusion and amusement which only frustrated you further because what on earth did he have to be confused about? 

“Seriously. I get it if you want to take it slow, but It’s been weeks and I’m starting to get scared that you don’t actually want to have sex with me.” 

He was watching as you spoke, a small smile curling on his lips. He couldn’t help it; you were so cute and flustered sitting on top of him talking about how badly you wanted to have sex. How could he not be attracted to you? How could you think something so utterly insane? 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” 

You were questioning him and teasingly shoving at his chest so that his back sunk further into the mattress beneath him. The only response coming from the man laying under you was a low chuckle. 

“Mitchell, talk to me.” Your voice softened.

You were serious now; Mitchell could hear it in your worried tone and see it in the unsure gaze holding his own. 

He sat up with an audible sigh and you took that as a sign things were taking a more serious turn. 

You carefully moved off his lap, opting for a seat next to him and plopping down on the bed. You sat facing him with your legs folded underneath you and your hand gently resting on his thigh. 

Everything about you was inviting his awaiting admission; your body language, the gentle smile encouraging him to go on, the way your eyes fell on him in an already understanding gaze. You were too good for him– too kind. Here you were willing to accept every last part of him and he was getting ready to tell you he uses sex to aid his homicidal affinities. 

“I did want to take things slow- I do.” He started with his eyes glued on you.

”I just, I don’t want to hurt you.” He spoke slowly, still searching your eyes for any changes to your expression.

“And you’ll hurt me if we have sex?” You were trying to clarify and make sense of what Mitchell was saying.

“I used to-“ He began but stopped himself. 

He looked down at your hand on his leg. Your touch so sincere. 

“I used to use sex as a method of getting women alone and vulnerable so I could- you know...”

He was still staring down refusing to look at you as he spoke. He couldn’t stand to watch the inevitable look of fear on your face. 

“It was just so easy. The first time I had sex after I turned, it was such a rush. Everything was intensified; her heart rate, the blood rushing through her veins, how much control I had. I didn’t even realize what I was doing and then she was just...” 

His words were trailing off yet again, he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. That he was a manipulative evil monster who prayed on women and got off on killing them.

 It wasn’t true though. That side of him was something else entirely. It was someone he didn’t even recognize when he was with you. 

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt your delicate hands cupping his face, bringing his eyes up to meet yours. Instead of a look of terror, your face held nothing but forgiveness and warmth. 

“So you’re scared you’re going to kill me if we sleep together?” Your words were point blank as you stared into his eyes. 

“No.” His response was instant, but then quickly followed by a correction, 

“Well maybe. I don’t know, it’s complicated.” 

He paused.

“I never want to hurt you. I know that much.” 

The look in his eyes was so gentle, begging for the forgiveness you’d already given.

“There’s just this part of me that I can’t control, and I’m so scared that I’ll get too caught up and won’t be able to stop myself.”

“Have you ever had sex without-“ 

You began to ask but Mitchell finished your question for you.

“Killing someone?”

He looked away again, unable to come to terms with his own sinful memories.  

“Yeah, but it’s been a long time.” He confessed.

You leaned back on the bed creating a bit more space between your bodies. You had a million thoughts running through your mind but the only one that mattered was the realization of how much Mitchell had come to mean to you in such a short time. Everything felt right with him. You were immersed so deeply in his world that this new piece of information just felt like a little blip on the radar of your lives. You would figure it out together. All of it. 

“Well okay then, we’ll just keep doing what we’re doing until you feel ready.”

As soon as the words left your mouth his eyes were back on yours. He was giving you the most hopeful smile, it nearly melted you. God- you’d do anything for him. 

“And if you never do, then I’ll just invest in a really good vibrator.”

You were joking to help lighten the mood. You didn’t want Mitchell to feel like you were judging him or disappointed in the new information regarding your sex life. 

Your comment had Mitchell cracking a smile for the first time in last five minutes and the sight of it warmed your heart. You were both just sat there looking at each other with silly little grins plastered on your faces, the dark tension in the room slowly dissipating. 

The silence between you lasted for a few seconds, Mitchell looked as if he was contemplating something before he finally spoke.

“Is that how you’ve been surviving this whole time?” There was a hint of laughter dancing in his words.

“My sweet girl gettin’ so frustrated she has to run home to relieve herself?”

His head was now cocked to the side as he probed you with a follow up question. He was smirking, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on you. If he couldn’t see the goosebumps on your skin, he sure as hell could hear your heart racing. 

“I’m sorry baby, you shouldn’t have to take care of yourself like that.” 

Mitchell’s voice was low, and he was moving his body closer to yours. He was hovering over you as your back rested against the warmth of his comforter. The sound of your heartbeat was amplified in his ears by the sudden closeness. 

This was new, you thought. 

Mitchell had never been this bold with his words. It was so filthy– so tempting.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself?”

His eyes were heavy and his jaw tense as he awaited your response.

You thought about him every single time you touched yourself, which was more often than you’d like to admit given the current circumstances of your relationship. You had come up with one hundred different scenarios that involved you and Mitchell naked in his bed to aid you in your self-induced pleasure. 

But instead of divulging all of that to him, you just nodded your head in a simple reply to his question. 

“Show me.” His voice was dripping with desire, and you thought his eyes might burn a hole through you with how hard he was staring. 

“Mitchell…” 

You suddenly felt so shy. Just minutes ago, you were grinding down on his lap hungry to unbutton his jeans. Now he was asking to watch you touch yourself and your confidence was wavering. 

“C’mon baby. I wanna see how you get off.” His tone was so sultry, you were nearly slipping your pants off at sound of it.  

“Let me see baby.” He was intertwining his fingers in your hair and pulling you in for another messy kiss. 

“Fuck- I think about it all the time. What it would be like to watch you cum.” His hands were now trailing down your body, his touch was more rough than usual, but you didn’t seem to mind. 

“I touch myself thinkin’ about you too baby.” His gaze was scorching, as he watched you fumbling with your jeans in such hasty desperation to get them off. 

“Always so worked up from not being able to touch you the way I want to. It drives me fuckin’ insane.”

Now he was assisting you; pulling your jeans down your thighs, just as needy to see your body freed from them. 

Mitchell’s hands instantly found the exposed skin of your thighs as soon as your jeans came off. He was basking in the feeling of your warm skin, memorizing the way you felt in his hands as he gripped and kneaded the flesh of your upper leg all the way up to your hips. 

You were pulling him back down in a frenzied kiss when you felt his hands at your sides teasing the material of your underwear. His fingers were hooked in the waistband of your panties, and you found the kiss getting sloppier the closer you got to being half naked on Mitchell’s bed. Your lips were moving in a chaotic harmony when he pulled back to speak again. 

“Is this okay?” 

It was as if he was breaking character for just a second. The dirty words of primal desire were replaced with a tender whisper. The man who was just ripping your jeans from your body was now searching your face for approval before going any further. 

“Mhmm.” You were humming and nodding your head simultaneously placing your hands over his on your hips and helping him peel your underwear from your body. 

“Jesus- fuck.”

Mitchell couldn’t help the profanities that fell from his mouth as you looked up at him with such an innocently sensual gaze while you guided his hands down your legs. You looked so desperate for him.  

You were kicking your panties from your legs and instinctively closing your thighs, partially for the friction but mostly due to the nerves of your sudden vulnerability.

 Mitchell could sense your brief hesitation and wanted nothing more than to make you feel comfortable. To tell you how fucking hot this was- because it was. He hadn’t had sex in so long he thought he might just cum in his pants from the sight of you like this. 

He kissed you once more, deep and passionate while his hands found their place back on your thighs. He was running his fingers over your skin and grabbing each of your legs slowly pulling them apart as he situated himself between them. Then he broke the kiss and sat back on his knees to get a better view at your body all sprawled out on his sheets. 

“Fuck you’re so perfect.” His voice was close to a groan as he gazed down at your exposed center. He was in a hypnotic state at seeing you spread open all for him, so wet and ready; he was losing his mind.

“I wanna see you baby.” 

His fingertips were tracing your inner thighs, and you almost had to shut your legs again at the sensation; his touch causing you to let out a shaky breath. 

“wanna see how you play with yourself when you think about me.” 

You were closing your eyes and letting your hand trail down your stomach until it reached your core. If it weren’t for the fact that you were so pent up with sexual frustration from all the nights you had to leave Mitchell’s house after make-out sessions that led nowhere, you might have been more embarrassed by how quick you were to oblige with his directions. You were eager to finally get some sort of relief from him, even if it came in the form of his eyes on your body and his foul whispers in your ear. 

Your fingers were circling your clit and the sounds that came from the man above you were utterly carnal. 

“fuckkk.”

In a long, drawn-out groan Mitchell was releasing pent up frustrations of his own while watching your hand between your legs. 

He had envisioned you like this a million times but not one of those images even came close to what he was witnessing right now. He’d intended on trying to keep his composure but as soon as your fingers met your cunt, he couldn’t contain himself. 

“That’s it baby.”

Mitchell swooned, his body practically shaking as he watched you. All he wanted to do was replace your hand with is. He wanted to feel you. Needed to show you that the little scenarios of him you had conjured up in your head weren’t even comparable to the real thing. 

“So pretty for me.”

His words were only pushing you further into the lust filled abyss that threatened to swallow you whole. Your fingers were working faster in tight little circles and moans were forming in your throat and fighting to fall from your lips. 

“Look at me baby.”

You followed his command, looking up at him. He was going back and forth between looking into your eyes and watching the hand between your legs. He felt the familiar simmer of heat in his chest and the buzzing in his head– sensations that often came with his inability to stop himself from indulging in his deepest desires. He was teetering on the edge of losing all control when he found your eyes again, your tender stare bringing him back to reality. 

“Do you wish it was me touchin’ you like that.” He kept talking, hoping it would help tether him to his humanity. 

The low growl of his voice had you feeling brave enough to bring your hand lower, dipping a finger into yourself and whimpering out in pleasure at the thought of it being his touch instead. 

“Bet I could make you feel so good with my fingers- fuck.” 

The second he saw your hand venture lower he could feel his cock swelling in his pants. There was absolutely no way he would be able to keep his hands to himself now. Not while he watched you slipping your delicate little fingers into your cunt- something he had quite literally dreamed of doing for months now. 

“Oh sweet girl I need to touch you.”

You watched as he palmed himself through his jeans, the look on his face was so needy it made you bite down on your lip to muffle the obscene sound that fought its way to your mouth. 

“need to fuckin’ feel ya baby.”

And with that his lips were crashing into yours, your chests touching and moans mixing. You felt his hand on your inner thigh and nearly jumped when it skipped to your soaked core, his finger already pushing into you. 

“So wet for me huh?.” He was gathering your arousal and spreading it at your opening as he easily added a second finger along with the first. 

His head dipped down and his lips came in contact with the nape of your neck and you flinched. 

Your earlier conversation was still fresh in your mind, and you couldn’t help the involuntary recoil. Having Mitchell so worked up and putting his mouth on your neck startled you.  

He halted, every single one of his movements pausing as he drew his head back just enough to lock eyes with you. He had every intention of kissing down your neck, just wanting to envelop you in the feeling of his lips on your sensitive skin. He wasn’t even thinking about sinking his teeth into the flesh there, but once he felt you shrinking away from his touch, he felt awful. Shit did he scare you.

“Hey.”

He was searching your eyes, his expression full of worry. 

“I won’t hurt you.” A flip had switched, and his voice was now soft and reserved. 

“You’re safe.” He was reassuring you and now you felt bad for overreacting. 

You pulled him back to you in an affectionate kiss. 

“I’ve got you, I promise.” With that he was slowly moving his fingers inside you again. His thrusts were gentle, and he kept his eyes on you. He was being so careful, it was endearing. 

He had never felt so in control. It was a strange feeling, to be physically intimate with someone and not have a single hunger driven thought. While he had plenty of unsavory thoughts about you running through his mind, not even one had to do with his thirst for blood. All of them centered around hearing the cute little sounds you were making and watching you cum all over his fingers. 

He could sense your body relaxing under his touch and he watched your eyes flutter closed as his fingers curled into you. He was taking advantage of your comfort and switching to a faster pace. 

You had to squeeze your eyes shut completely as his fingers worked faster and depper. You were doing your best to keep quiet, scared that maybe someone would come home and be able to hear you, but with the way Mitchell was touching you, you finally let go of your worries. A lengthy moan fell from your lips, and had him groaning in response. 

“That’s it baby, don’t hold back.” 

He was encouraging your noises of satisfaction as he brought his lips back to your neck. Only this time, instead of flinching from the sudden attention, you tilted your head to the side to give him better access. You could feel him smirking against your skin. 

He was placing sweet kisses behind your ear while his fingers worked harder sliding in and out of you. His movements were perfectly executed, each thrust of his digits curling into you at the perfect spot and causing whispered profanities to form on your tongue. He knew exactly what he was doing, and it almost shocked you how close he had you to an orgasm already. 

“You feel that baby?” His voice was a mumble against the crook of your neck.

You were whining out a pathetic “yes” as he kept his pace, not holding back. You could feel your release building higher and higher, Mitchell’s fingers getting deeper alongside it. The exposition to your climax felt more intense than you’d ever experienced, and you were reaching for Mitchell’s forearm attempting to steady his movements, but all you were doing was pushing him on further.

“Let it out for me baby.” His voice was shaky, and it sounded as if he was holding back moans of his own.

Hearing him get so aroused by talking you through your pleasure only added to the pressure building in your core. 

“C’mon sweet girl I can feel you. So fuckin’ close.” 

You were writhing below his touch, whimpering and allowing yourself to give into the feeling of Mitchell’s fingers as he deliberately made sure each stroke hit the right spot. The sensation forming in your belly was almost too much to bear. 

Your relief was surging closer to release, like a wave it just kept building and you weren’t sure if you could handle it. And then, with Mitchell pushing into you, whispering little praises into your ear, you were coming undone. The floodgates were opened and your release was crashing over you, intense and all consuming. You were speechless as you felt yourself gushing over Mitchell’s fingers still deep inside you. He was coaxing you through your release, watching as you soaked his hand.

“Mmm look at that baby.” his voice was seeping with lust and he was looking between your bodies in a trance by the mess you were making beneath him. 

“Good girl.” He was growling and slowing the movements as he watched you come down from your high.

You were out of breath and in a state of pure bliss as you stared up at Mitchell. 

“Good fuckin’ girl.” With him looking back at you, you could see the look of pride in his expression, a smug smile on his lips.

“God I’m never gonna be able to get enough of you.” He brought his mouth down to you, locking his lips with yours in a hungrily passionate embrace.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care about the mess on Mitchell’s sheets or the fact that you didn’t think you could form words at the moment. All you wanted was to keep going, to make Mitchell feel just as good as he had made you feel. 

You were pushing yourself onto your elbows and making every effort to find your way to the obvious erection in his jeans. 

As much as Mitchell wanted to spend the entire night fucking you in every way imaginable, he knew it was too risky. Hell, he had almost lost his control before he even laid a finger on you.

While he felt excited by his newfound ability to venture further into this territory with you, he still wanted to take it step by step. He wanted to make sure he could trust himself– that you could trust him. 

“next time.”

He was grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lips, sealing his promise with a kiss to your palm.

You were pouting, but also inwardly thankful for his guarantee of future sexual escapades. 

“Don’t wanna bite off more than we can chew, yeah?” 

He was grinning to himself and leaning down to place a quick kiss on your forehead before hoping off his bed and searching for a towel. 

my masterlist

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Can't Live With Them, Can't Live Without Them

John Mitchell x Reader

Words: 3628

Summary: Having roommates can be impossible. Especially when they get under your skin the way Mitchell does. When the catalyst of one of your arguments turns into something, well, scandalous, you must figure out what to make of your relationship- and try to keep it a secret from your other roommates. 

Notes: Welp. This turned into smut. This is only the second smut I’ve ever written so please be patient with me haha. I really don’t have any excuses for this, it just happened. 

Warnings: 18+ Smut (fingering, m and f sex, etc.) Minors please do not interact. You know the drill. 

More Mitchell: HERE

-

The table had suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world. You kept your eyes fixed in front of you while your roommates bustled around the kitchen, George making his breakfast and Annie making yet another cup of tea she couldn't drink. Your brain had decided that if you looked at them, they’d know. 

So table it was. 

You’d started to regret coming down altogether when Annie sat across from you. In your peripheral, you could spot a not-so-subtle smile creeping across her lips. Oh no.

“So…” She blew out a long, theatrical breath and tapped her fingers against the spot you stared at. “Anything you’d like to share?” 

Your shoulders tensed and your voice shook with worried timidity. “W-what do you mean?” 

“Oh come on,” Annie gave you a cheeky grin. “Did you really think we wouldn’t find out?” 

Still playing dumb, you stared at her blankly. On the inside, however, you wished the world would open up beneath you and swallow you whole. 

Annie persisted. “The walls aren’t exactly thick, Y/N.” She giggled like a schoolgirl gossiping. “And it sounded like you had a very nice time, last night.”

George leaned against the counter. “God, is that what that was?” He whined though he smirked at you from over his mug. “I thought someone was hammering an accordion to the wall.” 

“Well?” Annie wriggled her eyebrows at you. 

You gulped. “Annie-”

“Who is he? Is he someone we know?”

You relaxed. 

So they didn’t know. Thank God. Your moment of relief was only that. A moment. 

“What are you goin’ on about?” A new voice asked. He stepped through the doorway, running his hands through his shower-dampened hair. Black curls stuck to his forehead. Drops of water traveled slowly down his neck. His eyes met yours, but only for a glance. 

“Didn’t you hear all that noise last night?” George scoffed. 

Annie beamed. “Y/N had a late-night visitor.” She winked at you. 

“Must have slept through it,” Mitchell shrugged. He didn’t even look at you. He just turned his back and opened the fridge. It wasn’t fair. How unaffected he could be. Wasn’t he burning up like you were? 

“Where is he? Did you kick him out already?” Annie asked. 

You watched Mitchell’s back in the corner of your eye, giving Annie a nonchalant shrug. Two could play at this game. “Oh, you know. He was out as quick as he was in.” 

The refrigerator door slammed shut. 

“Anyway, I don’t reckon he’ll be round again,” you continued. 

“Aw,” she winced, “was it that bad?” 

Mitchell stormed off without saying a word. The other two didn’t seem to notice, but you smiled to yourself for the small victory of getting under his skin. 

“Not bad, no,” you said. There was a tone of something else in your voice, but even you couldn’t place it. Regret, maybe. “I just don’t see it working out.” 

-

You stuffed your sheets into your laundry bin with a loud, tired sigh. You slid to the floor with your back to the foot of your bed,  laid your head against the bare mattress, and stared at the ceiling. Images and feelings from the night before ran rampant in your head and on your skin. His eyes burning into yours in the dark. His breath searing against the skin of your neck. His fingers lighting every nerve in your body on fire. For a dead man, there was so much heat still left inside of you. Was there no escaping it?

“That was quite the little performance downstairs,” Mitchell scoffed from your doorway. 

You turned your head towards him, rolled your eyes, and turned back again. “I wasn’t the one with the prima donna exit.” He glowered. You ran a hand down your face and stood. “What do you want, Mitchell?” 

For a moment, you thought his eyes went to your lips, but you couldn’t be sure. Just the thought made them ache with the memory of his pressed against them, hungry and wanting. It sent another wave through you. You could only hope you weren’t shaking enough for him to notice. 

Mitchell shook his head. “Nothing. Forget it.” 

“Which part?” You snapped. 

“What?” 

“Which part would be most convenient for you to have me forget?” 

He shut the door. “Y/N-”

“Could it be you accusing me of attacking people in the park during the last full moon? Like I have some kind of say in the matter? Or, would you like me to erase your attempt at an apology from my memory? Would that work for you?” You didn’t realize you’d been walking towards him until you were inches- breaths- apart. “Oh, I know. Maybe you want me to forget how we fucked the night away and then you couldn’t even look at me this morning!” 

Mitchell put a hand over your mouth, grabbing your other wrist when you moved to shove him off. 

“Must you be so loud?” He growled. 

I thought you liked me that way. You thought, but the burning in his hazel eyes kept you silent. 

When he removed his hand, it was you who closed the space between your lips. Just the taste of him sent your mind reeling to the night before. 

To his fingers racing over your electric skin. 

To his lips traveling every inch of you. 

To the moment he-

You pushed away. “Fuck,” you muttered, running your fingers through your hair. Mitchell blew out a low breath, lips swollen and gaze still locked on yours. You paced across the room as if the space could somehow save you from yourself. “This is ridiculous. What are we doing?” 

“You kissed me!” He exclaimed. You glowered. “Not that I didn’t enjoy it-”

“I’m serious, Mitchell.” 

“So am I,” he sighed. He stepped toward you and you didn’t step away. “Look, I came up here because last night was… it was…” He stammered for words, but you could tell where he was going. 

“A mistake,” you finished. His eyes snapped to yours. 

He nodded slowly. “Right. A mistake.” His agreement stung more than you thought it would. 

“I mean, we don’t even like each other,” you said. 

“Exactly. It was just a complete lapse in judgment,” he snapped. You didn’t understand the anger in his voice, but it made the growing lump in your throat even worse. 

“Right.” 

“Glad we got that out of the way.” Now he was the one shouting. 

You covered the disappointment you didn’t want to face with a frustration to match his. 

“Fine.” 

“Fine.” 

Mitchell left, the slam of the door behind him echoing through your chest. 

-

Fingers buried in black curls. Teeth nipping at your neck in the best of ways. Growls that rumble through your-

“Hello? Is anybody home?” Annie waved a hand in front of your eyes. Any thoughts of Mitchell’s effect on your body were banished, though you couldn’t help the anxious tapping of your foot. 

Christ, even now, he still found a way to get under your skin. 

“Sorry, yeah. I guess I got distracted,” you said. “You were saying?”

Your companion’s face split with a wide smile. “You’ve been distracted a lot recently, hm?” You stared blankly in response and she rolled her eyes. “Come on, Y/N. This has got to be about that guy.” 

You gulped. “Guy? W-what guy?” 

“You know, Mr. In-and-Out,” she snickered. “I think you liked him more than you let on and now he’s driving you mad with desire and passion.” She flared out her hands dramatically and then pressed them against her heart. 

Damn, she was good. 

“I…” You sucked in a breath and thought of lying. But you knew talking about it may make the itching frustration lighting up your whole body go away. And besides, it’s not like Annie knew who you were really talking about anyway. “Alright, fine. You’re right.”

She squealed. “I knew it! Tell me everything.” She didn’t wait for you to start, instead, she rambled her own predictions as you grew redder and redder in the cheeks. “So he was good then? I mean, it must have been if you’re still thinking about it. I knew there was something off about you that morning. Honestly, good for you for getting out there and getting some-”

“Annie,” you said through your embarrassment. 

“Well, go on then!” She beamed. 

You ducked your head sheepishly for a moment. You thought of his eyes burning into yours, hovering over you and glinting with moonlight. It was just… perfect. 

“He may or may not have been better than I lead on,” you finally smirked. With a deep breath, you let the tension built up in your shoulders relax and you buried your face in your hands. “But that isn’t the problem.”

“Uh oh,” she can’t help the teasing smile on her face. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” 

Your head snapped back up. “What? Of course not,” you scoffed. “He may be good in bed- okay, great even, but that doesn’t change the other things about him. He’s paranoid. He’s arrogant. He… He has this way of getting under my skin no matter what he does. And don’t even get me started on the way he treats me like I have no idea how to take care of myself. Like, I’ve gotten this far in life without him, right? Where does he get off being so overprotective and-and infuriating.” 

You stared at the table, your mind too lost in thought to stop your words. “He does this thing where he smiles and I can feel it light up every dark corner of my mind. Like he can somehow fix everything. And then the next minute, he embodies darkness. Not mine, but his own. I just don’t understand him. And I’m not even sure I want to. There’s something so beautiful about him and yet it terrifies me.  I don’t understand how I can hate him so much and still…” You trailed off, eventually snapping out of it and looking back up at a stunned Annie. 

“Love him?” She finishes for you. 

You stand up from the table. “Anyway, it doesn’t even matter because he doesn’t feel the same way. I’d be surprised if he even talks to me again.” 

“Oh, I’m sure-”

“Actually, can we change the subject?” You huffed, running your shaking fingers through your hair. 

Reluctantly, Annie obliged and the two of you finished your meal talking about menial things happening in the neighborhood. 

Mitchell leaned against the wall. From his place at the base of the stairs, he heard it all. Every word from your lips burrowed into his chest and pierced his still heart. The spark he’d felt under his skin became a wildfire. As he hurried back up the stairs so you wouldn’t see him, his mind warred with itself. 

“She didn’t exactly say she had feelings for me,” he muttered to himself. “And it shouldn’t matter. I can barely stand her. What happened was a mistake, she said so.” 

But he knew it was a lie. Mitchell fell back onto his bed with the dreaded realization that, no matter how he tried to fight it, the reason you drove him so crazy was because, all this time it wasn’t loathing or even just lust that drove the two of you to fight. It was love.  

He lit a cigarette even though he knew you hated when smoked and brought it to his lips. 

He sighed out with the smoke. “Fuck.” 

-

It was getting ridiculous. Even as you laid in your room with a cigarette in hand, your nerves just wouldn’t quit. You always got on Mitchell for his bad habit, but it’d also been a secret habit of yours for longer than you’d known him. It was almost ironic. You scolded him for having the same vise even though you knew very well that it couldn’t kill him. Just another thing you used as an excuse to be around him, even if it was just to get into screaming matches. 

You put it out on a tray by the window and stood in the way of the breeze. Why were you so hot? It was as if your room was an oven trying to suffocate you. But you were too scared to go out into the hall. You were so focused on the night air dancing across the goosebumps on your arms that you didn’t hear your door open and close again. 

“Since when do you smoke?” 

His voice made you jump and your hand knocked the tray off of the window sill, sending dull ashes across your floor. 

“Shit,” You muttered, stooping to put out any possible sparks. Mitchell said something of an apology for startling you and crossed to help you sweep up the mess. You stood and turned your back, trying to hide the frantic panic now rushing through you. “What are you doing here?” 

He rocked back on his heels but made no motion to back away from you. 

“I wanted to say sorry for the way I’ve been acting. It hasn’t been fair to you and you deserve a better explanation.” 

You kept your face away and tucked your trembling hands in your pockets. “I thought we already went over this-”

“I don’t regret it,” he blurted. You turned to face him, finding his hazel eyes wide and his body shaking just as much as yours. “I don’t think it was a mistake and I know you don’t either.” 

You froze. Mitchell stepped towards you and pulled your hands out of your pockets, holding them firmly in his. 

“I…” He blew out a low, tremoring breath. “I heard you talking to Annie.” 

“Mitchell-”

“I just wanted to tell you that…” His eyes fell to your lips. He leaned forward. “I feel the same way. Every bit of it. You drive me fuckin’ mad and I never want you to stop.” 

A breath away from his lips, you couldn’t move. The intensity of his stare held you in place. Just a little bit closer. 

Mitchell backed away, looking defeated. He’d taken your silence as his answer. 

“Anyway,” he coughed. “That’s all I wanted to say.” 

He turned and started for the door. Under the thin fabric of his sleeveless shirt, you could see his shoulder blades drawn tensely together. The mere sight broke you. 

“Mitchell.” Your voice came out as barely a whisper, but he turned back around. 

You didn’t have to say anything. With one look into your eyes, he knew. And he didn’t waste any more time. 

The two of you met in the middle, just at the foot of your bed. You crashed your lips against his, hands already clinging to the gray material of his tank. Mitchell’s arms wrapped around you, his hands gripping your waist as close to him as possible. He let one hand travel under your thigh and lifted your leg to wrap around his waist. The movement made the friction between you and the growing tent in his jeans almost unbearable. You rolled your hips against his for more relief. 

A growl escaped his throat. His other hand dipped just underneath your waistband, the tips of his fingers just above where you wanted him. 

“Are you sure this is what you want because I-” 

You stopped him with another mind-consuming kiss. Your fingers tangled themselves in his messy, black curls and tugged just hard enough to elicit a sigh from his lips. 

“I want you, Mitchell.” It was almost a whine. “Please.” 

He lowered his hand. The mere touch of his fingertips grazing against your sensitive bud drew a moan from your chest. 

“Shhh,” Mitchell coaxed, his lips finding your jaw. “We don’t want them to hear us again, do we love?” He slowly rubbed his index finger up and down your clit, stopping occasionally to draw even slower circles into your nerves. Your knees buckled against him, sinking you further onto his hand. His other arm steadied you. “I’ve got you, love.”

As he lowered you onto the bed, your hands worked to lift his shirt over his head. Your nails raked over the muscles of his bare back, earning you another growl. 

God, his back. 

You made quick work of the rest of each other’s clothes and with you laying out in front of him, completely exposed, he slipped two fingers into your core. 

“Mitchell!” You cried out. 

He clamped his free hand over your mouth and hovered over you with a teasing smirk. 

“Must you be so loud?” 

He curled his fingers perfectly to hit the soft spot that made you see stars and began pulling them in and out with a painfully slow rhythm. You had to bite down on your lips to keep from calling out his name again. He chuckled and picked up the pace. He knew what he was doing and you wanted to smack him for it. He flicked his thumb over your clit. 

You pulled on his hair again, slightly harder than before, and roughly brought his lips back to yours to muffle your moans. 

His fingers sped up and his mouth went to your neck. A series of nips and licks across your collarbone had you writhing beneath him even more than before. You jerked your hips against his motions, desperately chasing what you needed. The white-hot coil inside you wound tighter and tighter. 

“Mitchell,” you mewled. 

“That’s it,” he said against your skin. “Good girl. That’s it. Let go.” 

As if on command, the dam inside you snapped, sending burning waves rushing over your body. More whimpers and moans spilled from your lips, silenced by more, softer kisses. You wrapped your hand around Mitchell’s wrist and brought his fingers up to your mouth. He watched with lust-blown eyes as you brought each glistening digit into your mouth, your tongue swirling around until each was cleaned of your wetness. 

You hardly even gave yourself a moment to breathe before gently pushing back on his chest and moving to straddle his lap. With your fingers still splayed out over his chest, you sank down onto him, sheathing him completely inside you in one quick motion. 

“Fuckin’ Christ Y/N,” he exclaimed breathily. 

Now it was your turn to smirk, using his words against him. “We don’t want them to hear us again, do we love?” 

He clenched his jaw and snapped his hips up into yours, making you both moan through gritted teeth. 

You rolled against him, pushing him even deeper into you. He sat up, pulling you closer. With his arms locked around you, you bounced up and down on his cock, hitting the same spot as before with just as much thought-numbing precision. He thrust up into you and had to bite down on your shoulder to keep himself quiet. 

“Fuck, Y/N. Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” he muttered. 

The bed frame knocked against the wall violently, but you’d forgotten to care. 

He slotted his hand in between your bodies, rubbing fierce circles into your clit now. Between that and the filthy utterings coming from his mouth, you didn’t last much longer. 

Your second orgasm hit even harder than the first and was soon followed by his. Heat filled your core as he spilled into you, both of your motions growing sloppier and less consistent. You climbed off of him, sighing from the emptiness, and fell down onto the bed beside him. Mitchell’s arm laid across your stomach and he nuzzled his face against your neck sweetly. 

After a few long moments of breath and silence, he lifted his eyes to yours. 

“I meant it, you know,” he whispered as if revealing a secret. “I feel for you. More than I have in a very long time.” He kissed one of the redder marks he’d left on your skin and lowered his voice even more, speaking just into your ear. “I love you, Y/N.” 

You pressed your lips to his forehead, running your fingers through his wonderfully messy curls. 

“I love you too.” 

With the cool breeze still sweeping in from your window, the two of you fell asleep, still intertwined under your sheets. 

-

You didn’t notice the knocking. When you awoke, you could only hear the soft rustlings of Mitchell stirring beneath you, your head on his chest and his arms still locked around you. The sun had just started to peek through the half-drawn blinds. 

The knocks grew louder and then stopped. 

“Y/N!” Annie called. “You promised you’d help me practice this whole poltergeist thing today!” 

You smacked Mitchell’s chest. He snorted awake. 

“Hey, what the fu-”

“That’s it, I’m coming in!” Annie announced. 

“Shit shit shit shit.” You scrambled to find some article of clothing but failed. Annie appeared at the foot of your bed before you could even open your mouth to speak. 

Mitchell scrambled into a sitting position, careful to make sure the sheet didn’t fall from his waist. You clutched the fabric up over your chest, feeling every inch of your skin turn pink. 

Annie’s jaw dropped. Her eyes darted between the two of you. 

“Oh. My. God.” She gasped. 

“Annie, I can explain-” You started, but were cut off by her excited shrieks. 

“I knew it!” She squealed. “I knew it! I knew it!” She popped back out of your room, but you could still hear her shouting all the way down the stairs. “George, I knew it!” 

You and Mitchell looked at each other and fell back against the bed frame. 

Mitchell shook his head. A low chuckle rumbled through his chest and he turned to kiss the top of your head. 

“So much for keeping it quiet.” 

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Alone But Not Lonely

John Mitchell x Reader

Words: 4339

Summary: Mitchell and his girlfriend finally have a moment alone after weeks of hard days at work, dealings with other vampires, and frustrating exes. Only, she’s still hesitant to take the next step because of her relationships in the past. 

Notes: Oh look, is it another comfort smut? I need to be put on a leash. 

Warnings: 18+. Minors do not interact. You know the drill. 

-

You couldn’t tell which you felt more- tired or pissed off. Collapsing onto the sofa, you buried your face in a pillow, letting the cushion absorb your frustrated groan. Like clockwork, you heard those all-to-familiar sounds coming from your flatmate’s room. 

“Christ, don’t they ever take a break?” you whined, face still smooshed into the pillow and hands clamped over your ears. 

Good for her, but you needed to sleep once in a while. 

You had two options: either put in earplugs and try- and fail- to get some shut-eye or you could go for another late-night drive until two in the morning when they would be finished. 

You had to give her girlfriend one thing, she had an impressive amount of stamina. 

A buzz on the coffee table made you lift your aching head, squinting at the name lit up on the screen. 

A small smile teased your lips. 

So maybe you had a third option.

-

Mitchell sat in the quiet, listening to the slow creaking of an empty house. George and Nina left for work for the night an hour ago. Even Annie was out, spending time at the theater or whatever it was. And while he was one to enjoy time by himself, he couldn’t help but feel, well, alone. 

So when the knock at the door came around, he jumped up with maybe a little too much enthusiasm. 

“Hey,” he greeted, grinning as he kissed you on the cheek. “Sorry for the short notice, but I thought we could have a movie night or something.”

Just seeing him made you feel lighter, more awake. 

“That sounds nice.” You smiled and stepped inside. 

Windsor Terrace had become a kind of second home for you, if not an even more chaotic one. But with a ghost, vampire, and two werewolves living under the same roof, you couldn't really blame them. 

“How was your week?” He asked, tucking his hands in his pockets.

You simply gave him a ‘look’ in response.

Mitchell winced. “That bad, huh?”

“Katie's in town again.” You fell onto the couch and stretched out. “Which is great. I love Katie. She makes Willow happy, which is great.”

Your boyfriend raised a brow. “But?”

“But she makes her happy. Every. Single. Night.” 

His mouth fell open in an ‘O’ shape. 

“Yeah.” You ran a hand down your tired face. “Which, you know, awesome for her, but not so much for me after being on my feet for eight hours and I can’t even enjoy Miranda without learning what positions my flatmate likes!” 

His lips quirked up as he tried not to laugh. 

“You can tell what position they’re in just from hearing them?”

“With them, you can!” You exclaimed. “It’s like they’re their own nature documentarians. They fucking narrate their own fucking!” 

He couldn't stop his snickering. 

You pouted. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s kinda funny.”

You tossed a pillow at him, which he caught, still trying not to laugh his arse off. Mitchell sat down next to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

“Oh, come here then,” he said, pulling you closer. He tilted his head, looking down at you with nervous eyes. “You could stay here, you know.”

You leaned into him. “John Mitchell, are you trying to take advantage of my housing situation?”

He held up his hands. 

“I’m kidding,” you laughed, snuggling closer. “If you don’t mind, I could use a good night’s rest.” 

“I don’t mind at all.” He turned your head to capture your lips with his. “I’m sorry I haven’t offered sooner. Everything has been so-”

“Chaotic?” You finished for him. 

He gave you a small smile. “Yeah.” 

“Same for me.” You leaned your head on his shoulder. “Obviously, not quite the same.” 

His laughter filled the room. 

“I hope not. If any vampires come around your door…” He trailed off, not wanting to think about the possibility. 

“Vampires other than you, you mean?” You teased, tugging on the collar of his shirt. 

Mitchell grinned. “Obviously.” 

He leaned in for another kiss.

Your hands found his hair, encouraging the movement of his lips. With his arms wrapping around you, you leaned back onto the couch, accidentally lying on the remote. The TV switched on with a loud burst, making both of you jump. 

“Fucking hell,” you gasped, nearly falling off the couch if not for Mitchell’s hold. A breathy- if not a little frustrated- laugh fell from your lips. “I guess we’d better start that movie, huh?”

Mitchell sat up, pulling you with him. There was something in his smile, though. Something he was holding back. 

“What do you want to watch?” 

“Anything but Laurel and Hardy,” you said, a little too quickly. 

Mitchell’s jaw dropped. “You don’t like Laurel and Hardy?” 

“Not for every movie night!” You exclaimed, snickering as you pulled his pouting lips back to yours. “Aw, don’t be like that. We can watch something scary. Like Dracula.”

“Pass,” he huffed. 

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s full of hurtful stereotypes and bad accents,” he said. His hand fell to your leg, rubbing slow circles into your jeans. 

You laughed.

He scowled. “It’s not funny.”

You lowered your voice to mock his words earlier. “It’s kinda funny.” 

Mitchell’s eyes narrowed. He waited a breath before he pounced, fingers tickling your sides and feet and every bit of sensitive skin he could find while you shrieked and giggled and tried to push him away. 

“Mitchell!” You squealed, failing to get out from under him. “Okay! Okay! You win!” 

“What was that? I can’t hear you!” 

“Mitchell!” 

He switched tactics, changing his tickles for slow, sweet kisses along your neck. 

You stopped trying to push him off. “This doesn’t seem like watching a movie.”

“You didn’t pick one,” he hummed against your collarbone.

Melting into his touch, your fingers tangled in his hair to urge him on. “Mitchell,” you sighed, the sound very different from your pleading before. 

“Hold on.” He pulled away, turning his head. “Listen to that.”

You did. 

Nothing.

“I don’t hear anything.”

Mitchell turned back to you, grinning. “Exactly.” He kissed your forehead. “We have the whole place to ourselves.” He kissed your nose. “For the entire night.” He kissed your lips. “How does that sound?”

“That sounds-”

A shrill ringing cut you off and made your whole body tense. 

“Goddamnit.” You grabbed your phone off of the table and put it to your ear without checking the number. “Willow I’m a little-”

The voice on the other end shut you up. You froze and Mitchell climbed away from you so you could sit up. 

“Hey, Simon.” 

Mitchell stiffened. “Simon?” He couldn’t keep the bloodthirsty tone from his voice. It was an unfortunate habit when it came to dealing with your ex. 

You held a finger to your lips to quiet him and stood up.

“Yeah, I have a second, I guess.” You had to turn away from your boyfriend’s burning gaze. “You said it’s a problem with the system?” 

Mitchell ran a hand down his face as you stepped into the kitchen to take the call. 

It had been like this for a couple of weeks, even before the two of you finally admitted your feelings and started seeing each other. 

Your ex-boyfriend was now the head of the project you’d left so now he called you up all the time to tell him what the fuck he was supposed to be doing, even though you left and he left you broken-hearted and the whole mess just kept going around and around. It gave Mitchell a headache. 

He knew you weren’t thinking about going back with Simon. Mitchell never doubted your feelings for him. But he also knew what Simon had done to you, to your self-esteem and your ability to trust anyone. Including Mitchell. 

He wondered if that was part of the reason you had never stayed the night before, even though you’d been dating for a while now. It wasn’t a problem, of course. He’d never try to rush you into anything. But he couldn't help but feel like he wasn’t doing enough, he wasn’t helping you to deal with the shit of your past, to help you get past it. It still hurt you and that hurt him more than he could even try to explain. 

“Yeah. Just…” You pulled on the ends of your hair to channel your frustration into something other than throwing your phone. “Just shoot me an email next time, yeah? Great. Be seeing you.”

You hung up and tossed the device onto the table a little harder than you should have. 

“Everything okay?” Mitchell asked. 

“Everything’s fine,” you laughed bitterly. “Simon is just going to keep using me to make himself look good and I’m going to keep letting him because I’m too nice and I’m-”

“Hey,” Mitchell said softly, standing up. He put his hands on your shoulders. “You help him because you are good and he’s a prick.” 

“You’ve got one thing right,” you huffed. 

Mitchell brought your lips to his for a sweeter kiss. Reassurance. 

“Well, you don’t have to deal with him for the rest of the night.” His lips curved up in a small smile. “If he calls again, just give the phone to me. That’ll shut him up.”

“Oh no,” you snickered. “You already scare him enough.” 

“Good.” 

You shook your head with a crooked grin. He ran his thumb over your lips.

“There,” he said, kissing the corner of your smirk. “That’s better.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. 

His brows drew together. “For what?”

“I don’t want to seem like one of those girlfriends who’s always making her ex a problem.”

“Your ex makes himself a problem.”

“You know what I mean.” 

“No, love, I know what you think.” He tapped the side of your head. “You’re thinking that you owe everybody something and you think if you don’t do it, then you’re the bad guy in every situation.”

You swallowed. “And you got all that from a phone call?”

He shook his head. “I got all that from paying attention.”

“Oh, did you now?” You draped yourself over his lap, your arms falling around his neck. “You didn’t even notice when I got my ears pierced.”

“That’s because I’m too busy noticing the important things?” He said, though even he didn’t seem convinced. 

You snorted. “Right, that’s it.”

He pinched your thigh and wrapped an arm around your middle so you couldn’t get away. 

“What was that for?” You squeaked, jumping up as much as you could with him holding you to his body. 

His mouth was at the back of your ear, his breath hot on your cheek. 

“For teasing me.” 

With you pressed against him, he could feel the shiver down your spine. 

The front door swung open and this time you really did fall onto the floor you flung yourself off of him so fast. 

Annie walked in, her mouth falling open. “Oh God, did I just interrupt something?”

“Yes,” Mitchell sighed at the same time your phone rang again. 

It was Simon again. 

You stood up, brushing yourself off. “I better just go down there.”

“Y/N, wait-”

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” You hurried past Annie and out the door before he could say anything else. 

Annie looked at him, then at the door, then back at him. “What was that about?”

Mitchell fell back against the couch with a sigh. “Fuckin’ Simon.”

-

He planned everything out. Well, Annie and Willow helped him, but he had the most say in the plans. From the wine on the table to the relaxing record he put on, Annie even said she was quite proud of how romantic he could be. 

“This is perfect!” She cheered. 

Willow stood in her doorway. “And I promise, you won’t see me for the next twelve hours. The place is yours.” She winked. “Just don’t make too much of a mess.”

Mitchell shook his head. “I’m just trying to do something nice. She’s had a rough week.” 

Willow and Annie looked at each other and answered in unison.

“Right.”

The two gave him one last, long glance before heading for the door. 

“Have fun!” Annie called. 

“But not too much fun,” Willow teased. “I like my furniture the way it is.” 

Mitchell narrowed his eyes and shooed her out. 

You were supposed to be home any minute and he wanted the evening to be perfect. He finished setting the table, dumping takeaway containers full of pasta onto plates and tossing the boxes, and pouring the wine before stepping back to admire his work. 

“117 and I’ve still got it,” he muttered to himself, fist-bumping the air in victory. 

When he heard keys in the door, he quickly rushed in front of it to block your view of the surprise. This, unfortunately, nearly got him pepper sprayed in the face. 

“What the hell, Mitchell?” You exclaimed, nearly having a heart attack when you saw someone standing in your flat. 

Mitchell held up his hands. “Sorry! Sorry, Willow let me in.” He laughed, though a little nervously now that you’d almost blinded him. 

Once your heartbeat returned to normal, you gave him a surprised smile. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I thought you could use something nice after dealing with Simon all week.” 

“How did you know that-”

“You’ve been dead tired, irritable, and avoiding me since the night he called.” He laid a hand on your arm. “I put the pieces together.” He rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “And I know what you’re thinking. Believe me, the only thing I am jealous of is that undeserving dick got to spend more time with you this week than I did.” Mitchell kissed your forehead and stepped aside. 

Your eyes widened, taking in your decorated table, the smell of your favorite pasta, and the warmth of candlelight. 

“What-” You gasped. “What’s all this?” 

“A reminder.” Mitchell hugged you from behind, kissing the nape of your neck. 

You tilted your head. “A reminder of what?” 

“That you are valued.” Mitchell kissed just beneath your jaw. “You are wanted.” He kissed the spot behind your ear he knew drove you wild. “And you are incredibly sexy.”

“Is that so?” You turned around to face him. 

“Mmmhmmm,” he hummed, putting a finger under your chin, lifting your lips to his. “And you deserve to be…” Mitchell’s eyes met yours, widening with want. “Appreciated.” 

You bit your lip to keep it from trembling and buried your face in his chest so he wouldn’t see the tears building in your eyes. 

Mitchell froze, pushing back gently so you couldn’t hide. 

“What is it?” He panicked. “Did I say something wrong?” 

“No, no it isn’t that.” You laughed tearfully, pressing your lips to his for a quick, but sweet, kiss. “I just don’t think anyone has ever done something like this for me. I’m not used to feeling,” you mimicked his suggestive tone, “appreciated like this.”

“Which is exactly why you deserve this, Y/N,” Mitchell said, laying his hands on your shoulders. “I wanted you to see how important you are to me.” 

Walking over to the table, the scent alone made your mouth water. You leaned over the plates and smirked. 

“Is this takeaway from Rossetti's?” 

Mitchell cleared his throat. “Yeah, cooking isn’t exactly my strong suit. But I put it on the nice plates!” 

“I love it,” you laughed, kissing his cheek. “It’s very romantic.”

“Annie and Willow help me set it all up,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Maybe it’s Willow’s way of apologizing for all my sleepless nights,” you snorted.

Mitchell pulled out your chair for you before sitting down himself. “Speaking of which, she is actually staying with a friend tonight, so we are completely alone.” 

Blush rushed to your cheeks under the heat of Mitchell’s gaze. 

“We’ll have to find some way to entertain ourselves then,” you said. 

Mitchell chuckled and took a drink from his wine. 

The two of you ate with pleasant conversations that avoided topics like vampires, death, and, most of all, your bastard ex-boyfriend. 

When your food was gone, you just passed the wine back and forth, letting the rich red drink help chase away any of your lingering doubts. 

You stood to clear your place, but Mitchell held up a hand. 

“Let me.” He took your plate and empty glass and put them in the sink to clean later. 

“Such a gentleman,” you teased, moving to the couch. You tried to sexily lounge across the cushions but felt absolutely ridiculous, so you just sat with your hands in your lap. “So, you and Willow plotted this together all to give us the flat for a night?” 

“And Annie,” Mitchell laughed. “Don’t forget her, she’d be crushed.” 

“Of course. She’s the whole reason we’re together.”

Mitchell took the seat beside you. “I don’t know if I’d give her all the credit.” He stretched his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers grazing your shoulder. “She just nagged me every morning until I finally asked you out.”

“Our matchmaker.” 

You both laughed and you leaned into him, laying your head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you. 

“Mitchell?”

He hummed, having lost himself in thoughts of you. 

“You know that I trust you, right?” 

He pulled back. “I hope so.” 

You shifted in his embrace. “I just don’t want you to think that the reason we haven’t…” You swallowed hard, feeling your face grow hotter and hotter. “It isn’t your fault. It’s me. I just-” Turning your head away, you took a deep breath. “Every relationship I’ve been in, I either got my heart broken or I was used or both. And I’m not saying I think you’re going to do that to me. I know you wouldn't.”

“But it’s hard for you to let someone in,” Mitchell concluded. He gave you a small smile. “I know, love. I can’t say that I haven’t kept you at an arm's length myself for a long time, but I want that to change.” His voice saddened. “I don’t want to hurt people anymore. And I especially don’t want to hurt you.”

You moved closer to him again, leaning forward, your lips almost touching his. “You won’t.” 

Taking his hand in yours, you slowly moved it to the hem of your shirt.

Mitchell’s eyes held the question. “Are you sure?” 

You nodded, the word barely a breath from your lips. “Please.”

His hand slipped beneath your blouse, rough fingers tracing along your skin, splaying over the small of your back and pulling you closer. Mitchell’s mouth was on yours, soft and patient at first. 

You raised a hand to his hair, tugging gently to spur him on further. Your tongue ran over his lower lip. 

“Careful,” Mitchell growled. 

Feeling braver thanks to the warmth of the wine and his touch, you smirked. “Or what?” 

Something flickered in his eyes. Mitchell wrapped his arms tightly around you and lifted you off of the couch. 

You gasped and locked your legs around his waist. 

Mitchell carried you toward the bedroom but didn’t even make it halfway before he pinned you against the wall and buried his face in your neck, peppering every inch he could find with bites, careful to leave a mark, but not break the skin. His hips pressed against yours, letting you feel him through the barrier of both of your clothes. 

You needed him closer.

“Mitchell,” you whined, tugging on the collar of his shirt. 

He chuckled against your collarbone, pushing you against the wall even more. His jeans grew tighter, already feeling your wetness seeping into the layers of fabric between the two of you. Mitchell held you with one arm and slipped one hand up the back of your shirt, unclasping your bra with a quick twist. 

You quickly pulled off both your blouse and your bra, leaving more surface for him to continue his marking. 

Lifting you up a little higher, his mouth trailed down between your breasts. The hand not gripping your ass to keep you up reached up, rough fingertips running back and forth over your nipple. 

Your head fell back against the wall, almost knocking a photo off its nail. 

He rolled your nipple between his finger and thumb, but didn’t want to leave your other ignored. Mitchell took your hardened peak into his mouth, swiping his tongue around in circles. 

“Stop toying with me,” you pleaded breathlessly, his touch taking over any rational thought. 

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” he snarked, nipping your sensitive peak. 

“Mitchell,” you whined again, pulling his hair a little harder. 

He finally broke away from the wall and carried you to your room. All the while, your lips desperately search for his, quiet moans escaping when his kisses could not contain them. 

You were so distracted by his touch that you didn’t even notice he’d brought you to the bed until your back hit the sheets.

Mitchell hovered over you, the want in his eyes accompanied by genuine concern. 

“Do you want this?” He asked. He knew about your past, how they made you feel… like you were nothing. It sickened him. How anyone could see you as anything less than the incredible woman you were angered him beyond belief. 

Lying beneath him, you tucked a dark curl behind his ear. “Every time I’ve ever been with someone, I felt like I was playing a part. I was trying to be who they wanted me to be.” You leaned up to kiss him. “You’re the first person to make me feel like… me.” Your voice cracked. “Like I matter.” 

Mitchell’s grip softened, his hand moving to tangle in your hair as he leaned his forehead against yours. 

“If I could tell you I love you all the days that I have lived and have yet to live, it still wouldn’t be enough to show how much you matter to me,” he whispered. He could still see the disbelief in your eyes, so he convinced you with a slow, passionate kiss, unlike anything you’d shared before. “I love you,” he said again. 

“I love you, Mitchell,” you breathed before pulling him back to you. 

Everything started very soft again, from his hands taking off the rest of his clothes to your fingers lightly running through his hair. But the more you moved together, the more your driving need took over your motions. 

You quickly undid Mitchell’s belt, sliding your hand beneath his boxers. You needed to feel him. 

Mitchell gasped against your breast. “Y/N…” 

“Mitchell,” you said lowly. “I need you.” 

“I know, love.” Mitchell’s fingers traced the outline of your core. “I know.”

He slid two fingers inside you, his other hand holding your hips down when they bucked up in response. 

“Fuck.”

Mitchell gave you a devilish smirk and spread them, stretching you out wonderfully. He curled his fingers and watched you writhe on the bed, panting breaths filling the room. 

“M-Mitchell.” You grinned down at him. “I told you to stop toying with me.” 

You moved your hand along his shaft, circling the tip with your thumb to emphasize your point. 

Mitchell sucked in a breath. “Well, then you have to tell me what you want.”

“Christ, John Mitchell,” you laughed. “I want you to fuck me. There? Is that what you-” You were cut off by your own moan as he pushed himself inside you. 

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” he said before his lips took over yours again. 

His thrusts began slowly, letting you adjust to every inch of him. He moved in and out of you in a way that tossed away any other thought. You could only think about how he filled you so perfectly. How you’d never felt like this with anyone else. 

After a while of this agonizing pace, Mitchell couldn’t take it anymore and he knew you couldn’t either. He snapped his hips against yours, moving deeper within you than before. 

Your nails raked down his back as you bit your lip to keep from screaming. 

“Let me hear you, Y/N,” Mitchell urged, thrusting into you again. 

“John!” You cried out, feeling yourself tighten around him, the burning inside you growing more and more every time he hit that perfect spot. 

Mitchell needed to hear you like that again. He needed to hear you like that always. He abandoned his cautious pace and railed into you, the sounds of skin on skin mixing with both of your panting moans. 

You clung to him, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as his cock moved inside you. Your fingers tangled in his perfect black curls. 

“I love you,” you said again, barely able to form any words with how he was fucking you. 

“I love you, Y/N. I love you.” Mitchell sped up, everything consumed by you and how you felt around him. 

With another deep thrust, the waves of pleasure you chased washed over you. Mitchell’s climax soon followed, filling you with warmth. 

Mitchell kissed along your jaw before finding your lips. He held you, still sheathed inside you, and pressed his lips to your forehead. 

“How do you feel?”

You simply sighed contently in response. 

Mitchell collapsed beside you but was quick to pull you back into his embrace. He ran his fingers up and down your spine, listening to you breathe. 

“Tonight was perfect,” you said softly.

“You deserved it.” 

“I should tell Simon to annoy me more often if this is what I get,” you teased. 

Mitchell shook his head, laughing. “I could still just get rid of him for you.”

“Mitchell!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He pressed one more kiss to your lips. Mitchell pulled away smirking. “Mostly kidding.” 

You smacked his chest playfully and cuddled up close to him. 

Mitchell whispered more ‘I love yous’ and other sweet words until you fell asleep in his arms. 

[sephines]

Something about Aidan that makes him stand out I’m now realising (having swiped through a million men on tinder in the space of an afternoon 😵‍💫) is that he has a really pretty face. Like there are a decent amount of buff, good looking guys on this app. But their faces tend to be more masculine. Aidan’s features have a more feminine and delicate quality to them. I think that combined with his masculine features is partly what makes him so attractive. I wonder also if on some subconscious level it makes him seem…safer to me, vs these all round very very masculine looking guys who I find very intimidating