La Vie En Rose // Dylan O’Brien
(NOT MY GIF)
A/N: Okay. So no one asked for the Sunday thing. It’s fine. But I had started writing this piece a while ago and just finished, soooo... no harm in sharing it, right? Well. I hope you like it! :D
Warnings: well...... it was supposed to be just fluff. but it sorta became a smut. nothing “wooow, what if people catch me reading this?”, but still a smut so. cursing. masturbation. sex. dylan o’brien. the usual.
Word count: 1,8k+
It was a little past four p.m. when I decided I would cook dinner tonight. Normally Dylan and I would just go to a restaurant or order due to our busy schedules. However, since I had a free day, I decided to treat my beloved boyfriend with a homemade meal. He simply adored those little surprises. So did I, in that matter.
Giggling, I focused on slicing the tomatoes. Within my family, there was a secret recipe for the perfect tomato sauce that I had never remembered to cook until today, so it would be the first time Dylan would taste it.
Well, the reason I chose this was entwined with our first date. The hot and humid night was still fresh in my memories, as if it had been yesterday. He took me to a private place, which, may I add, was booked only for us. I was so mesmerized I remember my legs going weak. I had gone to extravagant dates before, but this was a whole other deal. Okay, I definitely went off course here.
The chef was Italian, so I was tempted to go for pizza, but Dylan proposed we tried one of the pastas, his favourite choice. I mean, no one would ever hear me denying pasta. Either way, I was glad I didn't. It was the most delicious thing I had ever put in my mouth. I could only hope I was able to reproduce that dish.
“This house is so quiet…” Dropping the knife, I searched for my phone in hopes to put on some music. I was stuck mumbling the lyrics of “La Vie En Rose” all day long. “Oh you cheesy weirdo.”
There were a few texts coming from Dylan. They were brief, just saying that he couldn’t wait for the shooting to be over so he could finally see me. And also that he was missing me as hell. I mean - I knew I was a pretty decent person, no need to be humble, but… I didn’t know what I had done to deserve such a caring man.
With a shit-eating grin, I replied, noticing the texts had come about an hour ago, indicating that Dyl was probably on his way home. The butterflies on my stomach began bothering me upon thinking about his warm embrace and husky voice. I wondered if one day I would not feel like a thirteen year old around him. Something inside me told that I probably wouldn’t. I didn’t care.
“Hold me close and hold me fast…” I began singing, swiftly becoming oblivious to my surroundings, fixating myself on the sauce instead.
The kitchen smelt amazing, my mouth was watering to eat that. I swivelled a wooden spoon one last time and went to reach another pan to boil the pasta. The studio Dylan was working at was a bit far from the house we lived in, so I was taking my time. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind waiting a bit anyway.
I leant down to pick up the Penne package I had bought. The song had shuffled to another version. Now it was a woman singing instead of Louis Armstrong. It was even more beautiful, I dare to say.
While adding the Penne to the boiling water, I went on mumbling the lyrics, closing my eyes for an instant. That was when I felt a set of arms wrapping around my waist, lips attaching to my neck.
“When you press me to your heart, I'm in a world apart…”
“Hey, darling.” His deep voice muttered against my skin. “I love coming home to you singing.”
“I should do it more often, then.” I grinned, lowering the fire so I could spin to face him. Dylan looked a tad tired, hence my hands urged to cup his face, my features probably showing a concerned gleam. “Is everything okay?”
“Now it is.” He simply said. “Can we just relax?”
“Of course we can…” In a quick movement, Dyl placed me on the counter, getting between my legs and urgently kissing my collarbones. I gasped, landing my hands on his broad shoulders. “Can we talk first? Please?”
“Babe, I just want to make love to you. No talking, please. Work was hell today. I promise I will tell you everything after.”
The tips of his hands got dangerously close to my core, so I threw my head back, gnawing my bottom lip. Oh shoot. There was no arguing when he dealt things like that.
“Dinner is going to burn.”
He chuckled, blindly turning off the oven, returning his full attention to my body. In a matter of seconds, Dyl undid all my dress’ buttons, which left me in nothing but a pair of black panties. I glared at him in expectation.
“A quickie? Right here?”
“Our neighbours might see it, hun’.”
“I don't care.” I felt his hot tongue wrapped around my nipple, hands grasping my waistline with some force. I, without a double, would get some purple bruises later. Not that I minded though. “Jesus, you are so fucking hot.”
“Oh fuck.”
My panties were torn with anger, causing me to squeal in astonishment. Dylan merely smirked, rubbing my clit a bit. That man just knew what he had to do to make me feel all bothered and flushed. However, after a minute or two, he stopped. I grunted, clearly frustrated. I wanted - no, no. I needed more.
“Oh babe, no need for that. I'm gonna’ take care of you just right.”
“Damn it. I love when you talk like that.”
I watched anxiously as he loosened his belt, dropping the pants and underwear down just enough for his dick to bounce free. A smug grin enlightened my face, which made him roll his eyes.
“What? You don't need to do much to make me hard.”
“I can see that.”
Dylan pried open my legs, stroking himself a couple of times before finally entering me in a quick push. I moaned out loud, grasping the cold edges of the counter. Shit, that was good.
Squeezing my butt cheeks, my boyfriend sought my lips, a sensual kiss following it. Our tongues rolled together as his hips slammed against mine. With my eyes still closed, I bit his bottom lip, slowly releasing it, his taste flooding my mouth. In the meanwhile, his long, skinny fingers went down, gently circling the throbbing nub between my legs.
I was not able to hold back the long, loud moan that followed. Dyl smiled against, my neck, his pink mouth sinfully attacking my neck, biting, sucking, whatever it could do to tease me further. Damn. My nails scratched his back, pulling him towards me even further. The sudden movement made him lose balance, bringing a wave of laughter to the steamy session.
“Careful, hun’, I don’t want you hurting yourself.”
“Oh. Are you going to pretend this is not your fault?”
Another laugh slipped whilst my gorgeous boyfriend rolled his eyes, gripping at the base of my thighs, picking up where he had left off. I bit my lip, my arms wrapped around his neck. The way his breath felt… Urgh. Every single hair I had in my body was up. Shivers, chills. I had them all. His tongue, then, toyed with one of my nipples, swirling playfully. I grunted, leaning in to have my way with him too. Taste the flavour of his skin, feel him reacting to my caresses.
Everything seemed to be hot and wet. I knew I wouldn’t last much longer and, by the looks of it, neither would Dylan. I knit my legs around his hips, clenching around him. He smirked, squeezing the flesh of my waistline, his irregular breathing stirring me on even further. Until one tired, husky moan fell off his lips as he came. Falling apart inside me.
“Not yet?” He quizzed, still shaking from pleasure.
“Not yet.”
After a quick nod, Dylan moved a little more, the tips of fingers finally getting me to arch back, feeling a numbing, pleasurable sensation hit me. We both stood there for a moment. High on each other. His face was nested between my breasts, my fingers were carelessly untangling his hair, our breathing fighting to get even. And that peaceful moment would’ve lasted longer if it wasn’t for an annoying knock on the door.
“Fuck.”
“Go answer while I fix myself?”
Dyl nodded, finally pulling away from me. I felt unexpectedly cold without him within my arms. I slided down the counter, picking up my dress to carelessly put it back on again, leaving the two first buttons undone. Once I got to the living room, I was surprised with Mr. Frisier at the door, his face glistening red.
Oh. They were fighting. I sped to stand beside Dylan, the two men suddenly quiet due to my arrival. His hand quickly found its way to my hip, pulling us closer. I could tell Frisier bubbled in anger.
“May I know what is happening here?”
“We have children, you know.”
“I know…?” I was puzzled. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“If you're screwing in the kitchen, you should at least close the freaking curtains.”
“Oh.” My cheeks grew warmer. “I'm sorry-”
“No, babe. Listen to me, you are not coming to my home, telling me what I should or shouldn't do inside it.”
“Dylan-”
“Babe. Let me handle it.”
Huffing, I rolled my eyes. Dylan was so stubborn sometimes.
“Mr. Frisier, I am sorry. We'll be careful next time. Now, if you excuse us, good night.”
“Wait-”
The door was slammed shut before he could finish. My boyfriend looked annoyed, his arms crossed against his chest whilst glaring at me. I chuckled. He was so cute when he was angry, that cute pink lip pouting.
Without saying anything, I walked back to the kitchen, finding my meal half done on the oven. I was quick to set everything back on so I could finish it. Dylan came to the room with an intrigued look on his face.
“Sweetheart-”
“I told you they'd see it.”
He laughed, hugging me from behind, his breath fanning the back of my neck. I chewed my bottom lip, trying to focus on the almost done pasta. The sauce boiling.
“Stop… I'm trying to cook.” Dyl smirked against my skin. “Don't you think once is enough?”
“With you? There's no such thing as enough.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Uh-uh.” The room went silent for a second. “I love you.”
My face gleamed with the happiest smile. It was barely a whisper, nonetheless, it pierced my soul. I could never get tired of hearing him say he loved me. And also a little bit relieved for I loved that man more than he could even imagine.
“I love you too.”
Dylan certainly made my life pink.
