viciouse

Alfred: *Viciously pins Kathryn’s hand to a table with a knife*

Harvey: WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! IS HE OUT OF HIS GODDAMN MIND!?

Jim: No, no… Let’s just see where he’s going with his. 

Crime scene photograph showing the injuries inflicted on Leno LaBianca, a victim of the Manson Family cult.

Mr LaBianca was a successful businessman who lived with his wife Rosemary. On August 10, 1969, he was awoken on the couch by Tex Watson and Charles Manson, who demanded all his money and his wife’s jewellery. After being tied to the bed and gagged, Tex Watson fetched a butcher’s knife from the kitchen and began stabbing Leno in a frenzy. Two female cult members - Leslie Van Houten and Patricia Krenwinkel - also grabbed knives and viciously attacked Rosemary LaBianca as she cowered on the floor begging for mercy. Charles Manson decided not to partake in the murders and was sitting outside in the car with the stolen property.

After Leno LaBianca was dead, Patricia was instructed to take the knife and mutilate him. She carved the words “WAR” into his abdomen, and used Rosemary’s blood to daub messages on the walls with her fingers. The three cultists then disappeared into the night.

anonymous asked:

A few days ago Zacks son, Eli, was on twitter liking tweets defending his father. He was grieving and seeing people defending his dad might have bought him a small moment of happines. Eli and his siblings lose their sister and then they have to see their father viciously insulted by bottom feeders. No one deserves that. I hope the Snyder family find the peace and healing they desreve and i hope Zacks critics take a long hard look at themselves and feel ashamed of their callousness.

I feel bad for Eli too. He lost his sister. My thoughts are with the entire Snyder family.

anonymous asked:

unpacking while moving in to the new place

Each box feels like a trap waiting to snap with a vicious bite at something still a little raw in Dan’s mind.

Phil doesn’t get it, though he tries. He always tries; his victory in recent years is understanding that he might not ever understand, and learning how to help even when he doesn’t.

“You do the kitchen,” Phil says. “I’ll do the lounge.”

Keep reading

you know what, i know a lot of mon fans are just kara fans that ship karamel and like mon, and that’s cool, honestly it is, but he really is my favourite character on this show and i want more for him than just being a boyfriend, give him the hero arc, let him be a character within his own right, let him have his own storyline

people hate mon so viciously because he’s with kara, so take that away, let him be on his own, give chris a chance to show what he can do, give mon a chance for people to actually see him as a character rather than a ship

anonymous asked:

just imagine how terrifying the dark!bois would be if they were yandere. so much bloodshed

I don’t really need to put this in words because they all would be themselves, but any small thing that separates, upsets or even approaches their SO would be destroyed as viciously and brutally as possible!

@klanceweek Day 5: Partners in Crime

Content Warning: Violence

“Have I told you,” Lance says, tone conversational and pleasant as if talking about the weather, “that you look very nice today?”  He shoots a projection in the head and continues.  “I mean, you look very nice every day, but I wanted to comment anyways.”

“Noted.”  Keith drags Lance with him towards a wall they can use as cover, cursing viciously as they narrowly avoid bullets.  “I appreciate it.”

By the time they stop running, Lance is already holding a sniper rifle; it’s almost unfair how quickly the man can create objects in dreams.  “Did you do something with your hair?”  He looks down the scope and pulls the trigger.  Something explodes in the distance.  There’s a lot of screaming. “I bet it’s the hair.”

It is the hair, but Keith will be damned before he admits it.  “Nope.”  A projection is trying to sneak towards them from behind.  Keith throws a knife at them.  “Guess again, Casanova.”

Lance scoffs.  “Liar.  It’s the hair.”

“Uh, no it’s not?”

“You’re lying,” Lance says, singsong voice completely incongruous with the violent chaos surrounding them.  “Your face is doing the thing you do when you’re lying.”

There are perks to being good friends with a Forger, but this is not one of them.  Keith splutters. “You’re not even looking at me!”

“I don’t have to.  I know you too well.”  Lance shoves his rifle towards Keith, raising his eyebrows expectantly.  “Hold my flower.”

Keith sighs, but replies with, “Kick their ass, baby.  I got yo flower.”  It’s worth it when Lance offers him a sunny smile before throwing a grenade at the angry mob approaching them.  

You sure know how to pick them, an imaginary Shiro says with fond exasperation.

I really do, Keith thinks.

Quick drawing and fic-thing from my Inception AU.  Probably won’t be part of the main fic I’m working on, but it was fun to write anyways haha.  Used a reference for the drawing because I am Bad at Poses.

  • the core four talking awkwardly about sex
  • Ronnie: it was sweet and soft
  • Archie: yeah we didn't want things to go too fast
  • Jughead and Betty: *looking at each other*
  • Betty*coughs*: yeah we didn't want to go um... too fast either.
  • Jughead*viciously nodding*: yeah no.
APRIL 3: Hayley Kiyoko (1991-)

From “Girls Like Girls,” to “Cliff’s Edge,” to “Sleepover,” Hayley Kiyoko has been giving us gay bop after gay pop, and so, we’d like to take today to celebrate the indie pop princess’s 26th birthday. Happy birthday Hayley!!

Although most of us have fallen in love with Hayley through her music career, she was also gracing our television screens long before many of us would have even thought of ourselves as girls who liked girls. Born April 3, 1991 in Los Angeles, Hayley was born to be an entertainer; her father is a comedian and an actor, while her mother is a former figure skater turned choreographer. Hayley first found herself in the spotlight at five years old when she began appearing in commercials and ad campaigns for companies like Slim Jim, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and JC Penny’s. Throughout her acting career, Hayley has starred in films such as Scooby Doo! The Mystery Begins, Scooby Doo! Curse of the Lake Monster, and Lemonade Mouth and has also been featured in television shows The Fosters and CSI: Cyber.

Despite the lengthy acting resume, music has always been Hayley’s first love. She began taking drum lessons when she was just six years old and was producing her own drum charts by the time she was eleven. After a brief stint with the musical group The Stunners, Hayley started releasing her own music in 2013 with the debut of her first E.P., A Belle to Remember. The song “Girls Like Girls” from her second E.P. This Side of Paradise served as a public coming out party. In an interview with Paper Magazine following the release of the “Girls Like Girls” music video, Hayley had this to say:

“When we shot the music video for ‘Girls like Girls,’ I felt like I was finally telling my story for the first time. The yearning feelings I had and also the feeling of being so alone. I think that’s why people connected with the music video. Not only because they too have experienced deeply liking someone, but also the sadness and longing that comes with it. You could be around so many people, and still have the feeling of being so alone and misunderstood.”

Hayley’s refusal to play coy or to reduce her sexuality to subtext is what has garnered her the huge following of young girls she has today. There are two things you can count on when you listen to a Hayley Kiyoko record – the insatiable need to dance around your bedroom, and the eerie feeling that you yourself wrote the lyrics sometime long ago in one of your prepubescent diaries – Hayley Kiyoko is to gay girls what Taylor Swift is to straight girls, a vital and viciously loved source of validation.  

-LC

Okay but quick hc

Gavin and Michael (or Ryan or Lil J) “playing” gladiators, with Gavin as the emperor. 

Michael’s got some poor sap beaten and broken on the ground, begging for his life, and he just looks over to his boi with the sharpest, nastiest grin. Gavin’s got his thumb out, facing to the side, and you can see Michael practically vibrating with excitement as he waits for Gavin’s judgement. The victim is sniveling on the ground, grasping at the hem of Michael’s jeans with bloody hands and pleading pathetically as though that could save him. And maybe it could, at another time. Michael lives for the fight but is less fussed about the ending, as long as he wins. But when Gavin’s thumb tips to point groundward, head shaking slow in mock disappointment, there is nothing in heaven or hell that could save that unfortunate son of a bitch. 

Many Republicans voted for this dangerous bill even though they didn’t like it all that much. They did this for a variety of reasons — caucus politics; pressure from Trump; a perceived need to show that House Republicans can govern; to increase the odds for other priorities. By contrast, the Democrats who voted for the ACA did so because they believed in it — and helped contribute to a historic coverage expansion as a result, though that may be in danger now.
 
 

The House GOP bill now faces very long odds in the Senate, precisely because it’s a moral and political disaster. One of the big moral questions at the core of the health-care debate is whether to vastly roll back the ACA’s spending and regulations that are currently enabling so many poor and sick people to gain coverage, and to again put that coverage at risk. The GOP bill puts this coverage in danger for millions. Thus, many GOP senators and governors — for political and principled reasons alike — are not going to accept the House GOP bill’s deep cuts to Medicaid and weakening of protections for people with preexisting conditions. The result will be a long, intense debate that serves to focus more attention — possibly for months — on the albatross that many vulnerable House Republicans just hung around their own necks.

— 

Yesterday, Republicans partied about their vote. Now comes the brutal hangover.

Destroy them. End their careers. Take these despicable, cruel,  viciously evil people out of public office for the rest of their worthless lives.

Young Viktor Nikiforov dressed like a Disney Channel main character and you can’t tell me otherwise.

There were pastels and patterns and so many layers? Sometimes Yakov got migraines just from looking at him???

Viktor kept a lot of those clothes even after he developed a more masculine and mature aesthetic and sometimes Yuri P shows up unnanounced and throws himself into the back of Yuuri and Viktor’s closet.

“Would you like a cup of tea, Yura?” Yuuri asks, leaning around the corner.

“No,” Yuri snaps. “What do you think of this?” He’s wearing a peasant top and jean vest tucked into a tulle skirt.

“Is it a pretty day or a handsome day?”

Yuri frowns down at his shoe choices and says, “Pretty.”

“Very pretty, then.”

Yuuri isn’t sure what Yuri was dressing up for, because he appears to spend the rest of the day lounging around, viciously pummeling Viktor at video games. He only stops insulting Viktor briefly, for about fifteen minutes, as Viktor puts an intricate braid into his hair and mumbles about choreography through the bobby pins in his mouth.

“Why don’t you just give him all your old clothes?” Yuuri mumbles after Yura leaves.

“I’ve tried,” Viktor says, shrugging. “He won’t take them. I think he wants to have a reason to come over here and be told he looks pretty. He’s a teenager. He needs reassurance.”

Yuuri nods slowly. “Does he know that he doesn’t need an excuse to come over here and be told he’s pretty?”

“He’s sixteen, Yuuri. Do you know how uncool that would be?“

“Fair enough.”

anonymous asked:

dark rc would you please consider writing about how victor (and the rest of the Russian skate team) had a feud with the Russian hockey team bc of their constant flirting and attentions towards yuuri (who was completely oblivious at the war waging for his heart)??

This has been sitting in my inbox for over a month and I apologize for that, nonny! I wanted to try my hand at breaking through this writer’s block and this prompt was ripe for the taking. It’s not my best work by any stretch, but it’s something at least! I hope you enjoy.

+

There are few things that give Yuri pleasure—the taste of accomplishment like cinnamon sugar on the back of his tongue after landing a quad; having a comeback so cutting that he practically draws blood; that soft murrf a cat makes when it decides it trusts him; the little green screenshot arrow appearing next to Otabek’s name in Snapchat—but they all pale in comparison to whenever the Russian hockey team visits the rink.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

A quick question about the Gryles thing because I'm genuinely curious: I thought the point was that TPTB were so homophobic that they would go to ridiculous lengths to keep H/L closeted, so why would they be ok with Harry being thought to be in a relationship with an older man? Like, why would they literally plant stories about that but closet H/L so viciously that they literally haven't been seen together outside of work engagements for upwards of 5 years and Louis has to fake a baby?

No, it’s been over-simplified in the telling.  They were catering to a presumed homophobic fanbase, their personal opinion about homosexuality is unknown except to the extent that they don’t believe it will “sell” to the target demographic.

But behind the scenes, in industry spaces where Harry & Louis were seen off camera, they both are easily read as gay and together. So what 1DHQ (Modest, Syco, Simon Jones PR) did to combat bts discussion of their relationship is create a diversion. Several diversions in fact.

And the #1 diversion early on is that they told people that work in the industry that Harry was with Nick. They also told people that would see Harry & Louis behaving like a couple that they broke up, hooked up, were on-and-off, casual flings, etc.  Anything to make people doubt that they were in a current, monogamous relationship.

A good friend of mine had dinner with someone from BBC Radio One a few months ago and my friend was flat out told that Nick and Harry used to date. My friend, a major Larrie, was taken aback. Then she asked if the person had ever seen anything proving that, she was told no. Were there any detailed first hand reports of anything, kissing, hand-holding, intimate moments? Nope, none of that. Just chatter around the office.

That 100% backs up what @diggingandfluff was told about what people were told at industry events, that they all got different stories about Harry & Louis and the only way they found out the stories weren’t true is when they compared them and realized that it was inconsistent and didn’t add up.

So to my mind, that’s where the majority of the relentless Gryles shipping came from. People were told by industry sources that they were together. So, annoying as it is/was, it was a “reliable source.”

But when you look at all of the other stories, plus everything we’ve seen and heard since then, you realize that it was a coordinated campaign.

Anyone but Louis.

Punk (Chap. 11)

Originally posted by coporolight

Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: ~2500

Warnings: Language, mission/war related violence and gore, shooting, battle related injuries/casualties/mayhem

A/N:  My sincere apologies for how long this has taken.  I’ve been dealing with some personal things and, quite frankly, it took away all desire to write.  I hope you like this chapter, the photo with the shield later on in the story is actually the inspiration for the entire series.  So you can get inspiration from anywhere :)  I want to thank everyone who stuck around waiting and who has been so helpful and kind to me.  Also, I’m very excited to continue writing more chapters!  Thank you for your continued patience.

As always, feedback is always appreciated.  Please let me know how the ‘action’ plays out as I am always looking for ways to improve my storytelling.  Thanks!



Your face fell in horror, but you seemed to be the only one moving, the rest of the world seemed to be stuck in some sort of time lapse.  Bucky was still just crouching there, holding the boy, with that stupid, beautiful smile still plastered to his face, not yet seeing the danger, not yet registering your alarm.

No no no no no no NO!  Your mind was screaming the words as you tore your gaze away from the scene.  The man was getting closer.  NO!

You bolted forward, shoving the woman into the alley screaming for Bucky to run, ripping your vocal chords in the process. Your legs felt like they were trudging through molasses, like some force was pulling you back, weighing you down. And each step on the pavement felt like an elephant stomp making the ground shake.  But it was as if you weren’t moving any closer.  But you had to.  You had to.   Because what was about to happen could. not. happen.

Keep reading

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 
Part 4 (finale)

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.