•Warning: This Book Will Contain Smut•
(Most of these I found of tumblr so they wont belong to me, I might right some of my own when I feel like it but I don't know)
Enjoy! ❤️
Pairing: Dylan O'Brien x Reader x Thomas Brodie-Sangster
Song: Angel With A ShotGun
Warning: Smut, Lemon, Threesome 😉
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It'd been a long day on set. You'd been working outside in the rocky mountains of New Mexico, the air hot and dry. As soon as you'd been given the opportunity, you'd taken a shuttle back to your hotel and jumped in the shower, immediately scrubbing off the dirt from your face and dropping your sweaty clothes in the hamper.
When you redressed and collapsed onto your bed, it was nearing 9pm and you were already beginning to feel the strain of the day, your eyes aching as you reached for your phone. You skimmed the text illuminating the screen, sitting bolt upright as you took in the words.
Dyl: Me and Thomas just got back... you wanna hang out? You cleared your throat, heart beginning to pound in your chest as you typed out a quick response.
Me: I'd love to... Give me twenty minutes? Meet at my room. The minibar's stocked... When you received an affirmative response, you hopped off your bed and disappeared into the bathroom, changing into something more presentable and fixing your hair. Whilst you wouldn't normally put so much effort into your appearance for an evening with your friends, you weren't exactly just friends with Thomas and Dylan, your two co-stars: you were so much more than that.
You'd met the two men during filming for The Maze Runner and had immediately hit it off. You were cast to play one of the secondary characters but due to popular demand, you'd been given more screen time during the second instalment of the famous series. Though it gave a boost to your career, you had to admit there was another, selfish reason as to why you enjoyed the extra time on-set so much.
You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy spending so much time around Thomas and Dylan.
There was just something about them that had your skin prickling, heat rushing straight to your core. You'd see them and immediately feel aroused, every brain cell screaming at you to turn it off because you couldn't. You couldn't want to fuck both of your close friends. It was unprofessional and, frankly, very distracting.
Over time, though, you'd all grown closer. Nothing intimate had happened but a few weeks prior you'd ended up drunkenly making out with them both, all of you somehow managing a three-way kiss on the dancefloor of a dimly-lit nightclub. You'd not mentioned it and neither had they, and you would've dismissed it completely had they not begun to continuously flirt with you. You had an inkling they wanted you - possibly as badly as you wanted them.
A knock on your hotel door interrupted your thoughts, causing you to take a sharp inhalation of breath. You gave yourself a final pep talk, determined that tonight would be the night, before moving out of your bathroom and pulling the door open.
