I write reader x Dylan O'Brien/Mitch Rapp/Thomas, Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Moon Knight, and some randoms on the side :) here's a link to see all the shit I wrote: https://smuttyimaginesforu.tumblr.com/post/149056221876/masterlist
Hey Bug! I just come to say I miss you and I hope you had a wonderful day, happy birthday if I’ve missed any, and I love you so much❤️ live your best life for me I just wanna make sure you’re ok
HOLY SHIT I RECOVERED MY ACCOUNT AFTER HOW MANY YEARS??!!! I’ll be updating my account asap so expect some good shit coming your way soon 😏😏
Ok but I’m embarrassingly excited that I’m back lolol
Hey guys! So this imagine is something that's somewhat inspired by American Assassin, while it’s a Dylan AU so read if ya want idk I’m kinda really proud of this lol
Masterlist
Words: 1,279
Warnings: Drinking, drug use, violence, blah blah blah
I feel someone pass behind me, brushing his palm along the bottom of my back in an all too familiar way. His sobering touch overwhelms me. It can’t be, I think to myself before leaving the chaos to follow another. I push through the large crowds of drunks, bee lining toward the hooded man that’s touch was so gentle, yet affirmative.
He stops on the side of the house, the sound of muffled music from the house inside filling the silence, aside from the few scattered people outside.
“I knew you’d recognize me.” He finally says, turning to face me under his hood.
I shake my head and stumble back all a once in disbelief. “You-you’re supposed to b-be missing.” I exasperated.
Dylan pauses, pursing his defined lips before responding, “And you’re supposed to be sober”.
I drunkenly shrug, slightly spilling the strong, half filled drink I hold in my right hand. I raise the red cup in cheers before taking a sip. “Gotta kill the noise somehow,” I wince from the burn in my throat before continuing, “You know, I’m not the person I used to be when you-…” I trail off. Did he leave? Was he forced? Why did he go? “Well I’m worse.” I chuckle as I fail to lose my balance.
Dylan catches me just before I fall and grabs the cup out of my hand. “What is this?” He asks, putting the cup to his nose to get a whiff.
Still leaning on him I answer, “Don’t drink that,” I slur, tapping the infamous red cup. “It has quite a bit of molly and rum in there.” Or was it xanax and rum? I finish with a loose smile before I fade into complete and utter darkness.
The smell of eggs and hash browns wake me up. Confused, I slowly get out of my bed in clothes I know that I wasn’t wearing last night. I rub my make-up covered eyes, yawning as I step out of my bedroom to follow the delicious smell.
I stop in my tracks, unable to comprehend the reality that my missing boyfriend is cooking breakfast right in front of me.
“I… I thought it was the drugs last night…” I stand behind Dylan, tearing up as I slowly reach for his shoulder, still not believing my own eyes. “You’re really here.”
He disregards my comments. He takes a pan off the oven and moves across the kitchen toward a set of plates, “Advil’s on the coffee table.” He nods his head toward the coffee table as he splits up the breakfast between the two plates.
“I don’t get hangovers anymore.” I respond, almost in haste.
I sit on the couch, resting my head in my hands. What the fuck is going on?
Dylan sets a plate of slightly browned hash browns and two eggs on the coffee table in front of me. I flinch when his hand touches the middle of my back. It’s almost as if he can read my mind. After allowing me to savor at least one bite of food, he takes a deep, slow breath before saying, “They found you.”
I drop my fork in both surprise and sheer fear. The kind of fear that makes you get cold instantly. I slowly pick up the fork by my feet and place the fork on the plate that’s on the coffee table.
“Not possible,” I deny, “I’m not that person anymore.”
“Not from what I’ve seen lately.” He responds slowly, as if he’s afraid.
I tilt my head and furrow my brows, “Lately?” I stare directly into his honey colored, almond shaped eyes for the first time. “Where have you been, Dylan.” I demand.
Dylan swallows as he repositions himself to face me directly, “I’ve been right here, mostly. Watching you.”
I make a quick chuckle, “Watching my life fall apart.” I turn my head away from him as I feel a tear leave my right eye.
He disregards my comment again, “We have to leave, no later than tomorrow morning.”
I make a quick nod before standing up.
Right as I head toward my bedroom, Dylan grabs my hand. “Wait,” He stands in front of me. His hands leave mine and grab my tear-streaked cheeks gently, yet with power. I place my right hand on top of his left as if I’m making sure his hand doesn’t leave my cheek. “I’m sorry.” He whispers with a crack in his voice.
I lean on my tiptoes to reach his height. I rest my left hand behind his neck and pull him closer to me. Our faces inches apart, our warm breaths touching each others lips. After a moment of silence, Dylan leans in further to touch his lips with mine, almost like he’s testing the waters. I pull him even closer in response. The euphoric feeling of the one I love, the one I believed was dead, that this kiss is giving me is like no other.
“You’re here now.”
I wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed and a loud thump outside my living room.
“Dylan?” I blindly ask as I take a step out of my room. One figure turns to three quickly.
Oh, shit. I quickly take a step back into my room, locking the door behind me. I run to the other end of my room to the window. I hear them pounding on the door behind me as I try to lift the locked window. “Shit!” I panic, trying to unlock the window. I see the door cracking and bending from the repeated force right above the handle as I fiddle with the lock. I hear a click as the window unlocks seconds before the door breaks open.
The window is no longer an option; they’ll reach me before I get out. I am quick; I can make it to the door. The only thing between the three men and me is my bed. After a moment of waiting for the other to make a move, I dart for the broken door. Right as a reach the doorway, a hand grabs the back of my oversized, long sleeved shirt. I fight one of the men, trying to get loose from his grip. Our fighting reaches my bed. The other two step in and grab various limbs as I try everything in my power to get off my bed.
“She’s being too loud!” The third man shoves his large hand over my mouth and part of my nose.
Out of instinct, I use my one free leg to kick the man holding my other leg in the ribs. After his grip loosens as pain sets in his ribs, I then lift my two feet above my head and hit a man above me under his jaw, forcing him backward from momentum. I almost managed to get free if the last man holding my mouth didn’t have the ability to easily to snap my neck, even by accident. The other two recovered quickly, and quite angrily before using harder force on me, more than I can take right now. I finally give up, slowly going limp and letting the men carry me away.
Where’s Dylan?
Just as I’m ready to give everything up, I find this last bit of will left in me. I start kicking and thrashing, causing various decorations in my apartment to fall as I bump into them… Intentionally. People will see signs of struggle, and I’m not just another runaway, considering my age: 20. My intentional commotion ends abruptly. Something hard and cold swings across my temple, knocking me unconscious immediately.
Of course I remember you Bug, I missed you tons! I really hope you're gonna be doing okay, I do think about you and your wellbeing :) I'm kind of ehh these days
Well now I’m not able to go back to college because I won’t be able to afford rent since I’d be working less... So now I’m drinking and doing drugs again because going back to school was the only thing keeping me sober. It’s actually really nice to have someone, even a stranger online say they care for my well being. For some reason, it means more than when someone I care about says so
I furrow my brows, “I’ve heard of you. You’re manipulative.” I respond, trying to stand my ground. I should have listened to everyone back home. I scoff, turning around, leaving my weapon behind.
“I’m not going to let you leave unfinished.” Pan says, somewhat smugly as he cuts me off on the path. He steps forward, “You are right, I am manipulative. But only to certain people.”
I decide to hear him out. I take a deep breath as he steps closer to me, his too comforting smell of fresh air hitting my senses. His hand touches under my chin, causing me to flinch.
“There’s no need to fear me.” He reassures in a calm tone. “I had to do what I did.” He says, hardly above a whisper.
I look at him in disbelief. “You what?”
“I had to make you a true lost boy-well girl in your case.”
I step back, scoffing. “Well you certainly succeeded. Congratulations.” I finish before turning toward the other direction, anger flooding over me. I hear him follow behind me. I pull out my sword from my side, aiming the tip at his neck.
“I certainly have.” Pan agrees, staring at the tip of the sharp sword swaying toward him. He hops back quickly while pulling his own sword out. I stand in position, confused at what’s going on. Pan notices the confusion on my face. “Fight me.” He taunts with a wicked smile on his face.
I hesitate before launching toward him. Pan narrowly avoids the tip as he steps to the side, almost as if he’s mocking me.
“Come on, (Y/N). I know you can do better than that.”
I clench my teeth before swinging at him. His sword deflects my swing. Shocks wave down the sword and onto my fist. It flies out of my hand, leaving me defenseless. Pan leaves no hesitation to push me against the tree behind me with the face of his sword, the sharp edge under my chin. Pinned between Pan and the tree, I stand there staring at his round, parted lips. He pulls the sharp edge up, forcing me to look into his eyes.
To his surprise, I wield a knife under his own chin. He drops the sword, impressed by my moves. Pan steps back with a witty smile and raised eyebrow. I drop the knife behind me as I advance toward him, reaching my hands for his cheeks. I pull him into a hot, desperate kiss. He pulls apart, only to quickly lean back in for a deeper, more meaningful kiss. His large hands wrap around my waist before pulling my body into his. I pull up his shirt before mine. Both topless, we reattach our lips.
He pulls my feet under his, causing me to fall under him with a yelp. On top of me, he pulls down my pants before his. He crawls back over me, staring deep into my eyes as he watches my reaction to slipping his finger inside me. I roll my eyes back as my breath leaves me. Pan inserts another finger into me before increasing his speed. I arch my back in pleasure. He attaches his lips to right above my collarbone, sucking hard on my sweet spot. He releases, leaving a bruise. He looks at me for permission. After a quick nod from me, he enters his full length in me slowly. I close my eyes, taking in the intense pleasure as he slowly thrusts himself.
Pan positions my legs above his shoulders, allowing his member to hit my g-spot every thrust. My moans grow louder as he gains speed.
“You’ve been waiting for this for a long time, haven’t you?” Pan asks in my ear.
“You have no idea.” I manage to answer between moans.
My response gains faster and harder thrusts from Pan. I grip the grassy ground below me.
“You’re mine. Forever.” Pan demands as his thrusts lose rhythm.
“Oh fuck, Pan. I’m all yours.” I say over his moans.
My words bring him over the edge. He lays next to me as we both catch our breath.
“What I said earlier was true,” I say as I put my pants back on, “I really am all yours.”
Pan stands behind me, wrapping his arms around my stomach. His places kisses on my neck.
I pull up to the deserted rest stop just on the outskirts of some unknown town. I quickly put my overpriced car compared to the locals in park before running my fingers through my hair from scalp to the ends, breathing shaky breaths. I look through the dark sky for any security cameras before pulling my hair under my oversized hood. I pull my keys out of the ignition, and head for the empty, dimly lit bathroom. I stand across the dirty mirror under the flickering yellow lights, taking notice in my sunken face and dark eyes. I lean my blood stained hands on the porcelain sink. I pull out my phone, and dial the person I’ve been dreading the most.
“Harles?” I ask nervously after her jittery greeting, “it’s me, (Y/N). Look… I need your help.”
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