shirt notice

Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew
  • Remus was the one to tell Peter that yeah, he could sit with him on the train
  • The two sat in silence until Remus noticed the shirt Peter was wearing
  • They both bonded over the muggle band
  • When James and Sirius joined the compartment, Remus made sure that Peter wasn’t left out of the conversation as he seemed to shrink into the corner
  • Remus was happy to know that he’d have another half-blood with him in Gryffindor once Peter was sorted
  • Peter noticed that Remus tended to keep to himself and worked to try and break his shell
  • In that attempt he ended up becoming more social
  • He started seeking out James and Sirius in an attempt to get them to help out Remus
  • The three of them ended up becoming good friends
  • Peter would find Remus and the two would study in the library together
  • Peter was the one who figured out that Remus was a werewolf
  • He was reading some books about the creatures in the wizarding world and put two and two together
  • He kept it from the other boys at Remus’ request
  • But after seeing Remus in the hospital the next week
  • He decided they need to take action
  • Remus at first was upset that Peter had exposed him
  • But later came to appreciate it
  • And wasn’t afraid to tell him, often
  • Remus encouraged Peter to ask out Mary
  • And Peter encouraged Remus to ask out Sirius
  • Together, the two pulled very few pranks
  • Remus was more of a rule-follower, and Peter was just a follower in general
  • Peter always looked after Remus before and after full moons
  • Made sure he was eating and drinking
  • He always calmed him down whenever he got upset as well
  • When Peter felt down and had little self-esteem, Remus would pull him aside and they would exchange hushed whispers as Remus would comfort him and make sure Peter felt loved, and appreciated
  • Remus was heartbroken when he’d learned the news that Peter was dead
  • One of his best friends, the person who could read him like a book, dead?
  • Something about it didn’t sit right with him, but he put it down to it being Sirius that had betrayed them
  • When he heard that Peter was on the map, Remus realized what a stupid mistake he’d made
  • He felt absolutely furious
  • Peter hoped to god that Remus wouldn’t find him
  • Wouldn’t figure him out
  • Because even though they were on opposite sides
  • He couldn’t stand the look of disappointment
  • Of anger that Remus would give him
  • When Peter died, Remus was both upset and relieved
  • He was relieved because it was one of the worst people he’d known, gone
  • But he was upset because it was one of his best friends, dead
  • He was the last Marauders still living
  • He’d make sure to punch Peter in the afterlife, though
  • Thankfully, he only had to wait about two more months
  • Lance: Man, don't you just hate unrequited love?!
  • Hunk: Are you talking about your crush on Keith?
  • Lance, mournful sigh: Yeah...
  • Hunk: *flashbacks to every moment Keith has looked at Lance wistfully, Keith trying to get Lance's attention, Keith who 'borrows' Lance's jacket, Keith who has tried to hold Lance's hand--*
  • Hunk: Uh, are you sure about that buddy?

[OW Shapeshifter AU]
Oh yes, now with human forms too! (͡• ͜ʖ ͡•)
These are their animal forms [HERE Purr ❤]


[Story] When Reyes was in charge of the Blackwatch Clan he tended to break in unnecessary fights to (in his opinion) defend the Clan. Morrison spoke up for all the clan members in order to stop this and settle down but that made Reyes even angrier. Not only Morrison was a beta, but also his lover, and he felt the whole thing like a betrayal.

I think I love you - Jughead Jones

Pairing : Jughead Jones x Reader

Word count : 1,484

Warnings : none

Requests are closed!

Originally posted by juptern

Your phone rang in the pocket of your jacket making you jump by surprise. You answered the call before showing your index to your friend Archie, meaning that it would only take a minute.

“Hi, this is (y/n) speaking.”

“Hey (y/n), how are you?” You instantly recognised the groggy voice behind the line.

“Jughead! I’m good! What about you?” From the corner of your eye, you would’ve swore you saw Archie rolling his eyes.

“Marvellous. So, what are you up to this evening? I thought we maybe could’ve hung out tonight. You know, me, you, at Pop’s?” You chuckled lightly.

“Sorry Juggie, I was planning on spending the night with Archie… You can tag along if you want? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” A small sigh made its way into your ear. You had to admit that you spent a lot of your recent time with your new red-haired friend. Jughead still occupied the position of best friend. He didn’t have to worry about it.

“I promise we’ll do something together tomorrow, alright?” It was silence for a while before you heard back,

“Yeah sure.” You pursed your lips, mentally cursing yourself. It wasn’t the first time that you had turned down your best of friend for Archie. Lately it had been happening more than before. It made you feel like the worst pal.

“See you.” With that, Jughead hung up. You understood how he felt. It wasn’t right that you weren’t spending as much time with him.

“Jughead, wasn’t it?” You looked up and saw Archie sprawled across the black beanbag in your bedroom. His hands were attached on the new acoustic guitar his dad had got him for his birthday. You nodded and played with the sleeves of you sweater. Your friend continued strumming the strings of his instrument.

“Hey- I wrote this song last week, and I wanted to know what you thought about it. I’ve been trying to talk to Josie about her playing some of my compositions, but she’s not that into it. You’re her friend, right? Maybe you could listen to it and try to talk to her?” He asked questioningly.

“Of course, go ahead.” His fingers moved to the tuners and accorded them as his other hand rested on the waist of the guitar. A few seconds later, a pleasant melody filled the room. Archie then started singing the lyrics he had written. The song wasn’t bad at all. In fact, it was quite catchy. The redhead friend of yours had talent. Before Archie could go on, you blurted out something you soon would regret.

“I’ll probably spend the day with him tomorrow.” The small tune that Archie had started suddenly came to an end. Archie hadn’t spoken to Jughead since this summer. The tree of you and Betty we’re supposed to go on a road trip the fourth of July but Archie left you hanging at the last minute. Since then, the boys stopped talking completely. When you mentioned one of  them to the other, you saw the irritation and annoyance in their expression.

“I thought you were coming to my game tomorrow. I’m playing in the varsity football team this year, remember?” You bet your lip and fiddled your hair with your fingers.

“I’m sorry Arch. I haven’t seen Jughead in a while now and I don’t want him to feel like I stopped being his friend. I’m making a vow that I’ll show up to your next game, how about that?”

“Why does it always have to be about him? Everything constantly has to be about Jughead.” Your were caught off guard by the sudden raise in his voice.

“That’s not it… I’m just trying to do what’s best here.”

“By ditching me at the last minute, that’s how your making things better? I didn’t think of you as an inconsiderate and selfish person.” He replied bitterly. In all the time of you guy’s friendship, you had never seen this side of Archie. Usually, he would be sweet and just shrug off any problem that faced his way. But the words he had just told you, they hurt your heart. Your eyes were starting to fill up with tears and your bottom lip started quivering.

“I’ve spent all my time with you for the last month. You. Not Jughead. Why are you treating me like this?”

“You know what? I don’t want to spend any more of my time with you right now.” With that, Archie got up and left you alone in your room. Without even noticing, a trail of tears had made its way down your cheeks. A sob escaped your mouth and your hands covered your face as you poured your heart out. You laid in your bed and continued crying.

It was all your fault. Archie now hated you and would probably never talk to you again. Why did you had to be so stupid? If only you had kept your mouth shut. Maybe he still would have been on that beanbag, singing.

Maybe half an hour later, you heard the wooden creek of your door meaning that someone was coming in. You didn’t even move, your pillow pressed against your face. The mattress shifted to the side from the sudden weight that it now had on it. You felt a piece of your hair being put behind your ear. You smiled at the sweet gesture and assumed it was your mother. You slowly got up and saw Jughead sitting beside you. Automatically, you vaulted in his arms tearing up once again.

“Sssh. It’s going to be okay.” He rubbed your back comfortingly. Your forehead was against his chest, his two upper limbs protectively holding you. Your eyes were probably red from all the crying but you couldn’t care less. You continued sobbing in his chest until you eventually felt calmer.

“Why- Why are you here?” You asked with a small voice. Jughead gently whipped your cheek with his thumb.

“Your mom saw Archie leave in a rush and realized that you two probably had a fight. She heard you crying and thought that you would be more willing to speak about it with me than her.” You grinned at the boy.

“I ruined your shirt.” You noticed, and felt guilty.

“Nothing to worry about (y/n/n). I never liked that jersey anyway.” You giggle with your best friend. You sniffed and observed Jughead who his face was only about a foot away from you. You had to admit that he was good looking. His prefect blue eyes were mesmerising and his pink lips appeared so kissable. Forever you considered the boy as nothing more than a platonic relationship to you. Never had you ever felt anything for him. But in that moment, something clicked. Jughead wasn’t only a friend to you, not even a best friend.  A stronger feeling overwhelmed your body. You felt love. You loved Jughead Jones. 

He was the one who your mother called when you were sad. He was the one who came rushing to your house as soon as your mother hung up. He was the one who was holding you and comforting you, whispering sweet nothing to you as you were crying. He was the one who was there for you.

“Jughead.” He raised his eyebrows at you.

“(y/n)?” You asked yourself in your mind if it was the right time to confess your feelings towards him. Your breathing started quickening as the anxiety rose in your core.

“I think I-” He watched you with intending eyes, indicating to continue your phrase.

“I think I love you.” Jughead eyeballed you, astonished at your revelation. He quietly answered, almost inaudible for you to hear.

“I think I love you too.” He leaned towards you and slowly pressed his lips to yours. Fireworks were going off in your stomach. The heaviness on your shoulders disappeared. In this moment, nothing else mattered in the world. Both of your lips moved in sync as you played with his raven locks. His arms pulled you closer to him, leaving no space between you two. Jughead backed away and kissed every each of your face, including your cheeks, temple and chin.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He whispered in your ear. You gave him a last long peck on the lips before saying,

“Do you want to lay down and cuddle with me?” He moved his head up and down calmly and took a blanket that was already on the bed to cover you. Cuddling was not something new for the both of you. You had always cuddled together, and whenever. His hand ran through your hair bringing a comforting and fuzzy feeling. His body pressed behind your back and his hot breath was tingling your neck. Before you even knew it, you and Jughead had fallen in a deep slumber, both dreaming about each other.

*gif is not mine!!

Meeting Drarry shippers in public

So I was in the Harry Potter section of Hot Topic a couple weeks back looking for more Slytherin stuff (you can never have enough) and there was an EXTREMELY talkative employee stocking the shelves next to me with T-shirts. He noticed I was already wearing a Slytherin t-shirt so I guess he took the hint that I was a slightly obsessive fan. I have no idea. Anyways, naturally he started up a conversation with me.
“So are you a fan, or are you like… you know… a FAN?” He had asked me. And I knew EXACTLY what he meant. So I told him I was the second option (he winked at me) and had a Tumblr dedicated to Harry Potter (I didn’t tell him that my Tumblr was the gayest thing since my birth because I thought that might weird him out. Anyways).
So of course he had to ask me who my favorite fanfiction authors were, which surprised me because I would not have guessed he read fanfiction. This just goes to show how painfully prejudiced I am without even being aware of it. So I said @julietsemophase and saras_girl and his eyes got SO BIG OMG
and he just goes
“YOU BELIEVE IN DRARRY TOO?”
And I swear he had the biggest smile on his face and it was SO funny to me.
Like here I am in Hot Topic, and this guy has to be in his late 20’s. He’s really genuinely attractive, looks like he works out, long hair, and definitely not my idea of a nerdy Fangirl type. At all. And here he is, flipping out in the middle of the store about gay wizards. It was a truly magical experience. I love making new friends.

youtube

PSA: Lin-Manuel Miranda sells bird real estate.

….And his song is “very convincing”

anonymous asked:

I think jmo at the con last week gave a glimpse Into the recent wardrobe decisions. She said all Emma had when first coming to SB where a handful of clothes and now shops regularly in snow's closet/80's style thrift shops. plus she said Emma incorporates hair style from memories like the WishAu!. I think the no makeup is a JMO personal thing..IRL she doesn't wear much anymore either.

Thanks, Wardrobe!Anon, but then JMo is doing the character of Emma Swan a massive disservice because on TV, costumes send powerful messages about character. Emma’s foray into white lacey button-up high-collar shirts is coded as sexual repression– I’m pretty sure that’s not what’s intended. (Even the expression “buttoned-up” is shorthand for repressed.)

Originally posted by lumadreamland

And you get a button! And YOU get a button!

These kind of shirts are wildly impractical for sherrif-ing or savior-ing: they limit your arm movements, they don’t handle sweat well, the lace is scratchy, and the itty-bitty fastenings take ages to put off and on. Not to mention it would take Hook forever to unbutton her one-handed. They’re the type of shirts worn by women who DON’T have to swing broadswords down main street.

Originally posted by onceland

That’s more like it!

In fact, if you want your wardrobe to say “open to love” you put the character in soft silks and cotton and open v-necks– open necks are a sign of vulnerability. You know, like Emma wore in S1:

Originally posted by onceuponadaily

Originally posted by fyesthesavior

This is sexy and functional and very Emma

Coupled with Emma’s lack of makeup, these white starched high-collared shirts put her firmly in the “beginning” section of the Repressed Schoolmarm Who Has a Sexual Awakening trope. The only reason IN A ROMANCE for someone to have their hair pulled up that severely is for her lover to take it down; the only reason for a woman to have buttons up to her neck is for her lover to rip off said buttons later in a moment of passion. 

Originally posted by onceuponadaily

*bow chicka wow– wait*

But “The Ravishment of Emma Swan” is not what we’re seeing, is it? On the contrary, the show goes out of its way to avoid any confirmation of consummation and has Hook hang back from Emma’s repeated invitations to come in for Netflix and chilling. The overall effect is weirdly re-virginizing. WHY?

Originally posted by miloventimglia

Freulein, defy your father and refuse to join the convent– your feelings must compel you!

Originally posted by glorianasjane

How could I give my heart to a man so blind to the concept of honor? 

And now Hook has to win Emma’s father’s approval AND Emma’s approval and regain his honor. This is now the story of a disgraced knight fighting for redemption through Brave Deeds and the woman waiting for her love to come home. Nothing wrong with this trope. I’m fine with this trope. I’ve read some lovely books on this trope … but S1-3 Emma WAS the brave knight! You can’t pull a switcheroo like this on the audience and not expect them to notice.

Originally posted by onceuponadaily

When will he return? My lost, lost love!

It looks like I’m pouring salt all over CS, but I’m not– if you put Emma in her S1 wardrobe and keep the dialogue exactly the same the scenes in Emma’s house this season take on an ENTIRELY different feel. You lose the “virginal schoolmarm waiting for daddy’s approval” aspect completely. The tonal mismatch is all on the makeup and wardrobe– which are changing the reading of Emma’s entire character in a way I don’t think the show runners intended.

CONCLUSION: Someone take the costume choices away from JMo because she’s changing the entire feel of the CS romance unintentionally into something rather Victorian– and it doesn’t scan with the Emma Swan we signed up for.

Take The Trade

Author: @sincerelystiles
Pairing: Dylan x Reader
Word Count: 2,836

Warning: THIS IS VERY SINFUL OH DEAR LORD

Part 2 
Part 3 

A/N: big fuckin thanks to the girls for encouraging me to finish this and being super supportive. i’ve been working on this for the longest time and it’s finally here, so enjoy mother fuckers x x

LISTEN TO THIS ON REPEAT!!!!


Originally posted by gabalecki




I throw the phone onto the couch, groaning in annoyance and stomping my feet like a child as I wander to the kitchen, huffing once more to catch Dylan’s attention. “What’s wrong?” He asks, his back still turned to me as he assorted popcorn and candy into different plastic tubs.

My shoulders slouch and I climb onto the island, crossing my legs and pulling an unsatisfied face. “Everyone’s busy, they can’t make it.” I grumble under my breath with furrowed eyebrows. Friday night was game night, everyone came over to my place to eat junk food, play stupid board games and get completely wasted. But, everyone decided they’d be busy this week, which couldn’t have been any more inconvenient.

“What do you mean everyone?” Dylan asks over his shoulder, grabbing the tubs with one hand each and carrying them into the living room. I groan at his actions, sliding off the countertop and following him through the arch as he places the bowls on either side of the Monopoly board that sprawled out over the coffee table.

I follow him back into the kitchen and watch as he raides through my fridge. “Well, Holl’s babysitting, Crystal and Ty are on a date, Cody is meeting some girl he’s been texting, and Shelley’s at that spa weekend with Arden.” I inform him, waiting for his response.

Dylan pulls two crates of beers from the fridge, closing it with his foot and walking back over to the couch, placing the crates of beer by his feet. “What about Sprayberry?” My eyes widen at his suggestion. “Do you not remember the last time we invited him?” I yelp, pointing toward the dark patch on the white wall that had been filled in after Sprayberry smashed his head through it.

He purses his lips to hide his smile and watches me plop onto the couch beside him. “Looks like it’s just you and I then.” Dylan shrugs, breaking into the case of beer, pulling two out and handing me one. I gaze up at him, taking the beer and smiling widely. “You’re gonna stay?” I ask hopefully, my smile only growing when he shrugs his shoulders and places his beer beside the boardgame.

“You can’t play monopoly alone.” I smile at him again, crawling off the couch and around the coffee table so we both sat opposed to each other. “You’re going down.” I tease, grabbing the dice from the centre and shaking them in my hands. “Game on, baby.”


“This is bullshit!” I giggle loudly, throwing a fifty in the middle. “Your fault you landed on Go to Jail.” Dyl laughs, rolling the die and taking his own turn. I grumbled childishly, watching as he moves his metal player around the board and landing on one of my hotel’s, typical. He grins at me, clearly amused that he didn’t have to pay as I was in jail. I glare at him, waiting for him to take his turn again.

We’ve been playing this for two hours, and currently I had the better properties, whilst Dyl had all the money. Empty bottles and random candies were spilled around us, the room slightly spinning which only entices a giggle from my swollen lips. I look through my sets, all of the yellows and greens, but only one blue. Mayfair was nothing without Park Lane, and I was determined to get that godforsaken card from him.

“Dyl come on, I know you love me. Just gimme Park Lane!” I smile seductively, or at least attempted to. He laughs at my statement, fingers scratching against the short stubble that coated his jaw adoringly. The flattering sight causes an ache between my legs and I shift uncomfortably.

With my bottom lip trapped between my teeth, my thighs rub together roughly, my face contorting in discomfort and I try to ease the throbbing between my legs. My eyes remain glued to his lips and the dark hairs that invade his pale skin. In the midst of my staring, his wet tongue peeks between his lips, and just at the simple action I find myself sputtering a cough so disguise my strangled whimper.

Dylan giggles to himself, unaware of the gaze I held on him and he finally looks up from the board, Mayfair in his hand and a grin on his face. “I’ll trade you Park Lane for a blowjob.” Laughter howls from my lips, and my chest shakes from the frantic laughter of his sudden outburst.

However, whilst I laughed at his comment, the wanting need and desire between my legs only grew at his words, and rubbing my thighs together would not be the way to ease the situation I was almost drowning in. “I’m getting us some more beers.” I giggle, standing from the beanbag I had been slumped upon and wobbling into the kitchen.

My body stumbles into the door of the refrigerator and I laugh quietly at my clumsiness. With my hands pressed against the cool metal, I slowly press myself off the fridge, however my back presses against a hard chest, trapping me in place.

My breathing hitches in my throat at the feeling of warm breath fanning over my shoulder. My eyes flutter closed as a hand wraps around my hair that falls over my chest and pulls it behind my back. Soft lips press against the newly exposed skin and my knees almost give way, until a muscular arm wraps around my waist and pulls me closer into their solid chest.

“So, what do you say about that deal?” Dylan’s groggy voice speaks, his lips hovering against my neck. I giggle at his comment, rolling my eyes playfully even though he wouldn’t see. “I think you made a great offer, but it’s something I’ll need to think about.” I tease breathlessly, my eyes fluttering closed once again.

Dylan’s warm tongue flattens against my skin and slowly runs along my neck, my body immediately reacting to the feeling and my ass presses into his crotch, a groan escaping his lips and I smirk to myself. “Come on baby, take the trade.” His grip on my waist only tightens and I find myself like putty in his hands. I spin in my tight position, my arms flung around his neck whilst his keep a firm grip on my waist.

I tangle my fingers into his dark hair and press my lips against his hungrily. Tongues dance messily whilst our lips move in perfect unison and I moan at the sudden feeling of Dylan’s hands massaging my ass. Without wanting, he hoists me into the air, my legs wrapping around his waist as I grind my soaking heat against his lower abdomen.

Dylan carries us out of the kitchen and into the living room, carefully maneuvering around the scattered beer bottles and plopping onto the couch. My legs straddled either side of his body as my fingers fumbled with the hem of his shirt. Dylan noticed my struggle and hesitantly breaks the kiss, tearing his shirt from his body and throwing it across the room.

My eyes stare adoringly at his toned torso, my panties soaking at the sight of the dark hair that gradually disappeared into his jeans and I find myself growing more and more excited by the second.

I press my lips against his, and slowly climb off his lap. My kisses follow my movements, lips pressing against lower areas of skin the further down my body slides, until I’m situated on the ground, between his open legs. I continue to kiss his torso until my lips come into contact with the rough material of his tight jeans, my chin grazing against his growing erection until I move my face away.

A low grunt escapes Dylan’s parted lips and I fiddle with the buckle of his belt, pulling it apart and slowly unbuttoning his jeans. My eyes flicker to his as I watch him through my lashes. His chest heaved heavily and the sound of his erratic pants echoed through the room as he witnessed my every move with every ounce of attention he could muster.

I smirk to myself, wiggling my ass a little which immediately catches his attention. Taking this to my advantage, I tear my shirt from my body; the cool air pelting against my bare chest and goosebumps begin their invasion. Dylan doesn’t notice my lack of attire until I fully unzip his pants, shoving my hand into his boxers and grasping firmly onto his erection.

He chokes back a moan at my sudden forwardness, whilst my eyes widen at the view before me. With a wicked giggle, I lick my lips in anticipation and prop myself up onto my knees. I lean forward slowly, Dyl’s eyes training on my breasts until I pull his big cock toward them, slotting it between the valley of my breasts.

“Oh, my..” His voice breaks when I press my tits together, creating a tighter grip on his cock. Slowly, I move myself up and down, precum spilling onto my skin and working as a form of lubricant as I continue to tease him. Dylan’s hand finds it’s way to the back of my head; his fingers tangling into my hair and pressing my face closer toward his crotch.

I take the hint, releasing my grasp and sinking back to the ground. I wrap a hand around his length, my other holding onto his thigh for support as I teasingly swirl my tongue over his oozing tip. “Baby come on, no teasing.” He whimpers, and the sound alone is enough to make me cum on the spot. I graciously oblige his wishes and wrap my wet lips around his cock, slowly sinking down until he hit the back of my throat.

My throat tightens around him as my nose buried itself in the dark patch of hair, which provokes a strangled moan from him. “Fuck baby, just like that.” He seethes and I hum in response, hollowing my cheeks around him and sliding back up his length. I suck gently on his tip, swirling my warm tongue over his slit and revelling in the filthy moans he gave me.

“Fuck this.” Dylan growls, viciously pulling me away from him by my hair. His lips smash into mine, and he grunts at the taste of himself on my lips. He stands from the couch, hands holding my wrists above my head as he backs me into a wall, my naked chest pressed against his whilst his cock sat squashed against our stomachs.

I moan at the feeling, knees falling weak when Dylan’s lips roamed over the sensitive skin of my neck. My arms remain above my head, one of his hands holding them in place whilst the other tugs down his jeans and boxers. My hips buck into his in excitement and anticipation, the alcohol that once ran through my blood turned to lust and desire, and it felt like I couldn’t get enough.

“Dyl,” I whine impatiently, gaining his attention once more. His dark eyes meet mine, his gaze trailing up to my trapped hands until they stop, a smirk forming upon his swollen lips, and my stomach churns nervously.

“Baby… what are you smirking at?” I question seriously, my heart stammering beneath my ribcage and I was sure my bones would shatter at any moment, given how hard it was throbbing. Before he pushes his jeans all the way down his legs, he holds onto the buckle of his belt, pulling it through the waist of his jeans and tugging it toward my wrists.

My heart drops when I realise what he was doing. My eyes follow the belt until I noticed the small chain hanging from the ceiling from where an old boxing bag had once hung and I mentally scold and thank myself for never getting around to take it down. “Dylan,” I whimper, clenching my fists as he tightly wraps the belt around my wrists, the clanking of metal indicating he had successfully attached it to the chain.

His hand slowly fall down my sides, gently squeezing my ass before he sets a soft kiss upon my forehead. He takes a step back, kicking his boxers off and toeing off his shoes and socks. My eyes widen at the sight of his naked body before me, and I shiver as he smirks at my vulnerable state. “Aren’t you a good little girl, huh? Standing there waiting patiently for me?” He taunts and my panties overflow with arousal at those simplistic words.

“Please, Dylan.” I gulp, rubbing my thighs together in attempt to ease the growing ache between my legs. He notices my struggle and slowly crouches down to his knees, spreading my legs apart and tearing the leggings off my legs. He grins up at me, setting himself between my legs and resting a thigh on each shoulder. His hot breath fans against my clothed core and I shiver at the feeling.

“I can see how wet you are baby.” He chuckles darkly, which only sparks another flame within me, causing me to thrust my hips closer to him. He carefully pulls my panties to the side before blowing cool air against my soaked slit. “Jesus fucking Christ.” I whimper, my head falling back when he runs his warm tongue between my folds, collecting my arousal until his lips latch onto my clit.

My wrists tug at the restraint, my body convulsing at the pleasure Dylan coursed through my body. “Fuck, Dylan oh God, just like that!” I cry out, my hips pressing further into his face as he grips onto my thighs for support. His lips and tongue continue their relentless assault, leaving me no mercy as I lose control completely. Dylan hums against my clit, my body twitching at the feeling and my lower abdomen shakes until I finally release with a filthy whine and a string of profanities that sound from my lips.

“God baby, you taste so good.” Dylan sighs with satisfaction, slowly easing my legs back to the ground and my body falls limp. He wraps his arms around my waist, his face inches from mine and I notice my arousal glistening around his lips as it drips down his chin. He wipes it away with the back of his hand before pressing his wet lips against mine and I whimper at the taste of myself on him.

“Fuck me, Dylan.” I whisper into his mouth, my tongue soon following as he returns the gesture. Our lips mesh perfectly whilst his hands find the backs of my thighs again, and he hoists me from the ground, my legs wrapping around his waist and he lines himself at my entrance, slowly pushing through my folds. We both hiss in pleasure whilst he continues to thrust into me, halting suddenly to allow me to adjust to his generous size.

I take a deep breath, pulling out of the kiss and resting my forehead against his before I nod slightly. “Move.” I whisper. He willingly obliges and slowly pulls out before thrusting back into me at a slow pace. He continues his movements for a few more moments until I begin to grow frustrated. “Faster.” I buck my hips against his and he soon copies, thrusting into me at a faster and harder pace.

The chains above my head rattle and clank with every thrust and I moan at the feeling of him filling me up. His tip hits places I never even knew I had, the more his cock buried inside me. “God, you’re so tight.” He grunts in my ear, hands roaming to my ass and smacking his hand against the now, sore skin. I gasp at the feeling, whining filthily with every strike he made, his thrusts becoming faster and harder until I snapped, my vision blurring and I found my arousal, my walls clenching around him.

“Fuck Y/N, oh my fuck!” Dylan cries, quickly pulling out and pumping himself a few times until hot spurts of cum splatter onto my lower stomach. He slowly lets my legs down to the ground again and I fall completely limp. “Holy shit.” He pants, and my vision slowly becomes apparent again. “Dyl,” I breathe, my eyes barely open as I swallow thickly.

Dylan carefully unties my hands, throwing his belt to the ground and catching my body as I almost stammer to the ground. He carries me close to his chest, turning the light out as I snuggle my face into his neck tiredly. “We need to talk Dyl,” I begin as he lays us both on the ground. “We can talk in the morning baby, I have a few things I need to confess.” He tells me, pulling a blanket from the couch and over our bodies.

“Goodnight my love.” Dylan’s soft voice speaks. He presses his lips against mine softly before pulling me into his chest. But that’s the problem… I was leaving tomorrow morning, for good.