#tights and keds

[platanarium]

[arianadrew]

[alyssasoutfitdiary]

2023 03 26 Sunday

Not exactly a "warm" day, but with bright sunshine, a beautiful day for sure. My boyfriend and I are going on a roadtrip, almost two hours, to see an indoor over the top Easter display. We were there at Christmastime to see that display, and they also do one for Easter.

We decided to dress up for this date. There is a Mexican restaurant, that I've never been to, that my boyfriend says is quite good. He has been there several times in the past, before we met. We'll be doing a few other things around the town, too. We'll make up the itinerary as we go along, but there is a small mall where we'll likely end up, as well, since it is also decorated for Easter.

I feel like dressing romantically, since this date is rather leisurely, so I'll be wearing red and black. I haven't worn my polka dot nylons in forever, it seems, so I'll wear those today. I also feel like wearing one of my "crazy" high heels for part of the date, too (including dinner). These are 6.5 inches with a 2 inch platform.

My outfit details:

Weather: Mid 40s to mid 50s, sunny ☀️

Hair down

Red sweater: Boscov's

Black skirt: Express

Black polka dot nylons: Gofypel

Black patent heels: Ochenta

Black canvas fashion sneakers (Keds): DSW

Black leather braided belt: Falari

Black tassel dangle earrings: Me&Hz

Black faux pearl necklace: Kosmos-Li

Red faux pearl bracelet: BA Unique Fashion

Red watch: Target @targetstyle

Black purse: Target @targetstyle

Red coat: Target @targetstyle

[fairybin]

[repost] soobin audio

warnings: nsfw audio!!

pov: backshots with dom soobin

extra: this isn’t ai, stop asking if it is

trans: call me master, you little wh*re. you're not gonna address me properly? i bet if i f**k your mouth, you'd call me master right? little wh*re, look at how your tight p*ssy swallows my d!ck up. from now on, you're only getting f**ked by me, understand?

do not reupload or repost

[alwaysmicado]

we shouldn’t

2.9k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | one-shot

Warnings: 18+, no outbreak AU, alcohol, smut (but nothing too graphic), smooching, reader being a menace, fluff & the tiniest bit of angst Summary: Joel holds your hand after a night out. It makes you feel things you don’t want to feel. A/N: This little one-shot was very emotional for me to write, and I hope it’ll make you feel something, too. Can be read alone or as a prequel to part 1 within the fwb!Joel AU. Enjoy and let me know what you think! I love talking to you about these two! 🖤 series masterlist

“If I don’t catch you before the light, I’ll do that little dance you like so much.”

“Naked?” you ask with wide eyes. 

He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “Yeah, na–”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’re running—clumsily, but fueled by an eagerness that outshines the haze of your drunkenness.

“–ked.”

– – –

The neon lights of the city blur into a kaleidoscope as Joel and you stroll down the crowded streets, the remnants of laughter and clinking glasses still echoing in your ears from the bar you just left. It’s a beautiful night—alive with a buzz, a mix of the city’s energy and the warmth that comes from a few too many drinks.

You’re giggling uncontrollably at something Joel said, your hands clasped over your belly as your sides hurt from laughing. You don’t even remember what he said that was so funny, but that doesn’t matter.

You’re having fun—as always when you’re with him.

Joel glances over at you with a lopsided grin, his eyes slightly glazed but still sparkling with mischief.

“You’re such a lightweight, darlin’,” he says, his words laced with genuine amusement. He chuckles as you continue to giggle, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “No more Long Island Iced Teas for you.”

You playfully roll your eyes, trying to catch your breath, and delicately wiping away the happy tears spilling over.

“Oh, come on,” you quip, turning to him with an infectious grin. “Could a lightweight do this?”

Determined to prove him wrong, you theatrically hold out your arms and set one foot gracefully in front of the other, your pretend sobriety test turning into a whimsical dance along an invisible line on the floor.

“See?” you say excitedly—and perhaps a tad too loudly—before your own enthusiasm sends you stumbling over your own feet. Lucky for you, Joel’s reflexes kick in, and he effortlessly catches you before you can faceplant and hurt yourself.

“Easy there, baby,” he teases with a grin, his strong arms steadying you before pulling you into a tight embrace. “You’re just having too much fun tonight, huh?”

“S’not fair,” you slur against his chest, giggles bubbling up from deep inside you. “The world is spinning.”

Joel looks at you, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “That’s not–” he begins but stops himself, chuckling. “Well, actually, yes, you’re right. The world is spinning, baby.” He presses a soft kiss against your temple. “I got you though.”

Giggles subside into a contented sigh as you rest against Joel’s broad chest, the fleeting touch of his fingers brushing against your back.

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking in his warmth and his scent. “Mmm, you smell nice. How do you always smell so nice?” 

Lifting your head, you gaze into his eyes with honest bewilderment and curiosity, your brow furrowed, as if this is the most perplexing mystery that needs unraveling.

“Reminds me of when we met. My clothes smelled like you when I got home that night.”

Joel’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at you with a genuine sense of adoration, his heart warmed by the sincerity and carefree spirit that your drunken honesty radiates.

He’s obviously not going to tell you that he’s made sure to only ever use the aftershave you complimented him on the first night you spent together, but he’s secretly delighting in the fact that you still like it.

“Well, aren’t you sweet, darlin’,” he coos, an amused smile gracing his lips. “You were such a brat not even twenty minutes ago and now look at you. Tame as a little kitten.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” You bite your lip and put your hands on his chest, your pupils so dilated your eyes are black.

You can still feel his fingers inside you.

Joel runs his hands up and down your back, a sensation that makes your knees weak. He bores his eyes into you and raises an eyebrow.

“I’m talking about you acting like a whore in that bar just so I’d make you come on my fingers.” His hands wander down to your ass, groping you, pulling you closer against his body. “You knew I’d fuck you when we got to your place, but you just couldn’t wait, huh?”

“Hmm, you love it,” you chuckle, pressing a soft kiss on his warm lips. “Don’t act like you’re not a total perv yourself. ‘Cause, you know, you are, and that’s why you just fingered me in a crowded bar. And that’s why you almost came in your pants. And that’s also why we get along so well.”

Joel grins at you, savoring the lingering sensation of your lips on his. “Touché, you little smartass.”

Your eyes drop to his mustache, perched proudly on his top lip. He’s shaved off the rest of his facial hair, and tonight’s the first time you’ve seen him like this. It suits him.

“You see something you like, baby?”

“I love your mustache. It’ so fucking hot,” you murmur, mesmerized, gently touching the little hairs above Joel’s lip with your fingertips. “Makes you look like an ‘80s pornstar.”

“You’re into that?” he chuckles, noting the particular fixation your inebriated brain has chosen this time—last time, it was the curve of his nose. You’re adorable.

“Fuck yeah. The only thing missing are assless chaps and a tight mesh shirt.” You wrap your arms around him and look into his beautiful brown eyes.

“Mmm, you never cease to surprise me, darlin’,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear before nibbling on your earlobe. “I didn’t realize you were such a fan of my ass.”

You giggle and squeeze his cheeks to make a point, pulling away a bit to lock your lidded eyes on his. “Oh, you have no idea. I’ll tie you to your bed next time and show you if you want. Fair warning, though, I won’t be gentle.”

Joel’s eyes widen, his erection straining against the harsh fabric of his jeans.

“Careful, darlin’,” he growls into your ear, “if you can’t behave yourself, I’ll have to put you in your place. And I promise you, I won’t be gentle either.”

You can’t suppress the little moan that escapes your lips as Joel’s words go straight to your pussy. His scent, his deep voice, his broad body against yours, his dark eyes—it all has you melting in his arms, craving his touch. Badly.

“Can we go, please?” you plead, your tone carrying the unmistakable hint of neediness Joel loves to hear so much.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” he murmurs, his hands finding your waist, pulling you against his groin with a possessive grip.

You playfully roll your eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, yeah, and I’m a bad, bad girl that needs to be punished—yada yada yada. Can we go now? Please?”

You pull away from his embrace with a cheeky smile and start tugging on his arm, urging him to move. Joel snorts at your impatience, thoroughly entertained by the frustrated little noises you make when he doesn’t budge.

One eyebrow raised and hands on your hips, you glare at him defiantly. You’re swaying a little now that he’s not holding you anymore.

“I’ll fucking run home and get myself off if you don’t get your ass in gear right now.”

“You still haven’t grasped the concept of asking nicely, huh? And after all this time I’ve tried to teach you,” he chuckles, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood and can’t wait to fill up that pretty little pussy of yours.”

He tilts your chin up with his thumb and index finger to search your eyes. To his satisfaction, he finds pure hunger in them. Your brain has completely shut off any and all functions except for imagining Joel taking you roughly in your bed. Or on your sofa. Or on the floor.

“Tell you what, you brat. You get a ten-second head start, and if I catch you before you reach that traffic light over there, you’re not allowed to touch me once you’re naked.” 

“And if you don’t catch me?”

Joel needs to hold back his laugh at the ridiculous idea that you’d be faster than him. 

“If I don’t catch you before the light, I’ll do that little dance you like so much.”

“Naked?” you ask with wide eyes. 

He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “Yeah, na–”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’re running—clumsily, but fueled by a determination that outshines the haze of your drunkenness.

“–ked.”

The night air that envelops you is alive with laughter and the distant hum of the city as you stumble towards the traffic light, your unsteady steps dictated by the alcohol coursing through your veins. Your brain can’t decide between giggling and breathing, so you’re left with a side stitch and gasping for air after a few short seconds.

At least you had enough foresight to choose comfort over sexiness when you put on your sneakers tonight instead of your heels.

Joel’s eyes track you, captivated by the rhythmic sway of your legs beneath the hem of the short dress you’re wearing. Oh, how he can’t wait to feel your naked skin pressed against his. You’re always so soft, so warm, so receptive to his touch…

He snaps out of it, realizing the very real potential for a clumsy misstep, and joins the chase. His steps are more purposeful, not wanting you to trip and hurt yourself, especially not on his watch.

A few meters shy of the traffic light, he catches up, arms wrapping around you from behind. You squeal in surprise, a mixture of laughter and exhilaration bubbling up from deep inside you. Joel joins in, his laughter harmonizing with yours, as he triumphantly murmurs, “Got you” in your ear.

He sets you down gently and pulls you close as your heart is still racing, and presses his lips on yours in a deep, lingering kiss.

“Not fair,” you mumble against his lips with a pout. “And I don’t wanna live in a world where you don’t dance for me.”

Joel sighs deeply, succumbing to the irresistible charm of your big puppy eyes.

“How about this, baby. You’re good and do what I say without talking back, and I’ll dance for you until you’re dizzy. Hm?”

“Okay, sounds fair,” you murmur, wanting nothing more than to get home quickly and rip his clothes off. Riling him up in the bar and coming all over his fingers was nice, but you’ve had far from enough.

“Good girl.”

As the traffic light shifts to green, Joel’s hand instinctively finds yours, not wanting to let you stumble across the street without him holding you. You don’t think too much about it, assuming he’ll let go once you’re on the other side.

Surprisingly, though, his grip persists, and he intertwines his fingers with yours.

It’s a gesture so simple, yet it simultaneously sobers you up and sends a ripple through the carefully constructed walls you’ve built around your emotions. Confusion colors your eyes as you steal a glance at him, and he meets your eyes with a warmth that makes your heart skip a beat.

You don’t like it.

This isn’t the casual arm around the shoulder or the hand on your hip. This feels like…more. Like something you’d only do in a relationship. Joel’s touch is warm and electric, and an unsettling realization dawns—the casual arrangement you’ve shared with him suddenly seems more complicated.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

“What are you doing?” you ask, feigning nonchalance, although your heart is doing somersaults.

“What do you mean?” Joel smirks, giving your hand a playful squeeze. “Just trying to keep you from stumbling into the bushes, baby. I’m a gentleman, you know.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, but the butterflies in your stomach tell a different story. The truth is, you’ve been here before—caught in the crossroads of friendship and something more. It’s a delicate balance, and one you don’t want to upset.

Joel’s the best thing that has happened to you in a long time, and you don’t want to lose what you have. But you also care for him enough that you’d let him go if your arrangement didn’t make him happy anymore.

As you finally reach your apartment building, a nervous flutter sets your heart pounding in your chest. You clear your throat and subtly allow your fingers to slip away from Joel’s, feigning the need for both hands as you rummage through your purse in search of your key.

You follow Joel inside, deliberately averting your gaze, your eyes fixed on the glowing buttons as you summon the elevator. As you step inside the confined space, a wave of memories floods your mind, recalling the last time you’ve given in to your desires when the brief elevator ride felt too long to resist.

Joel knelt in front of you, skillfully drawing an orgasm out of you with his tongue while your fingers were tangled in his dark curls. Once he had his fill, he proceeded to throw you over his shoulder and fuck you in front of your living room mirror. You’ll never forget how he forced you to look at yourself with his hand wrapped around your neck.

You’re abruptly pulled back to the present as you feel Joel’s hand finding yours once again, trying to reassure you that he’s here if you need him. You look at him with a conflicted expression, torn between appreciating his caring gesture and the fear of disappointing him.

As you shuffle to your apartment door, Joel finally breaks the silence, his voice low and soothing, “Are you alright, darlin’? Do you feel sick?” His eyes search your face, concern evident in his furrowed brow.

“Nah, just a bit tipsy,” you reply automatically, your tone light as you lean against the wall. 

However, when he starts tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, you’re unable to suppress the growing unease any longer. Tightness settles in your chest, accompanied by a fluttering sensation that dances beneath your ribcage.

“It’s just…I, uh,” you murmur, “I didn’t expect you to hold my hand is all.”

“Oh.” Joel’s gaze softens, and he releases your hand, the connection severed. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, darlin’. I should’ve asked if you were okay with it, I’m sorry.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, no, it’s not that I didn’t like it. It’s just...it felt–” you cut yourself off and sigh deeply, turning around to open your apartment door. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Joel nods, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I understand, darlin’. Thank you for telling me.”

“I’m sorry,” you switch on the light in your living room and throw your purse onto your sofa. “I know it’s weird, but I really…we–we shouldn’t and I…I can’t–”

“Darlin’, hey,” he steps inside and closes the door behind him. “There’s no need for you to apologize, or explain for that matter.”

You turn around and take him in for a moment. His warm eyes, his soft smile, the cute little movements his hand makes when he’s nervous—he’s just so…sweet. You’re not used to a guy being so considerate of your boundaries, and it’s incredibly hard for you to believe that he actually means it and won’t use them against you once he’s tired of you.

You know it’ll happen at some point, but you’re okay with that. This isn’t meant to last.

“Do you, uh, still wanna stay for a nightcap?” you ask him with a hopeful smile. 

“Of course I do, darlin’,” he says, tilting his head and looking at you curiously.

You open your arms, silently inviting him to draw you into a comforting embrace. You’re relieved when his response is immediate and eager.

“We’re on the same page, right?” he asks, a genuine smile on his lips as his dark eyes search yours. “We have fun, and I like spending time with you, but I want you to feel comfortable, too. If this,” he gestures between the two of you, “ever becomes more than you’re comfortable with, we talk about it. No pressure, no expectations. Just us, enjoying each other’s company.”

He pulls back slightly to gauge your reaction, his hand still gently resting on your waist. 

“Sounds perfect, Joel,” you coo in response, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Now, would you please shut up and kiss me already.”

“Alright, alright, you brat,” Joel chuckles and cups your cheek with his warm hand, before leaning in and sealing the agreement with a lingering kiss to your lips.

“Mmm, I’m so happy I met you, darlin’,” he whispers. “You’re something else, you know?”

You look into his eyes, and there’s a sincerity in them that catches you off guard. You know you shouldn’t have sex with him right now, you know you should tell him to leave. 

And yet, as soon as you feel his lips on yours again, more fervently this time, his hands exploring the contours of your back, drawing you close, the rational part of your mind fades away.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he breathes out before switching to kissing down your neck, the sensation of his soft lips on your sensitive skin making you whimper.

“I want you, Joel. I want you.”

– – –

Thanks for reading, guys!! 🤍

part 1 || series masterlist || main masterlist

tagging: @buckyispunk @koshkaj-blog @paleidiot @pattwtf @runningmom94 @tuquoquebrute @witchofthedeepwoods let me know if you want to be added!

[avrmee]

Could you do some billie eilish x female reader where Billie gets jealous seeing reader getting hit on at a party or at one of her shows or something. (You can make it smut or not it’s up to you but pls make it steamy 👏🏻) thankyouuu

Jealousy looks good on you - Billie Eilish

Summary: at one Billie's after parties she sees a man flirt with you

Warning: smut, some guy being a creep, Oral, swearing

NOT PROOFREAD

It was very early in the morning at one of your girlfriends after parties. The music was loud, there was alcohol it was overall a fun party.

You however weren't really a party person. You didn't mind it but you weren't fond of it. But since it was a special occasion you decided why not.

Billie was around here somewhere talking to some of her friends and just catching up.

You were at the bar sipping on your drink while scrolling on your phone when all of a sudden a guy sits next to you.

You didn't think much of it until you felt him stare at you for to long. You were getting uncomfortable and you couldn't see Billie anywhere.

You stayed quiet for a little longer hoping he would get the hint but he still stared and this time he cleared out his throat.

"Can I help you?" you asked looking up from your phone. "Well I do have a small problem I need help with. Maybe you can help" He said. His breath stinked from the alcohol.

"I'm sure it is small" you muttered under your breath. "What did you say?" he asked as he moved closer to you.

"Nothing I'm sorry, If it's a small problem maybe you can ask someone to actually wants to help you" You said and moved away to sit somewhere else.

"What? You got a boyfriend?" He asked a little salty.

You looked around and your eyes finally landed on Billie. She looked heavily pissed off as she walked towards you two.

"No she doesn't. She's got a girlfriend though. She gave tiu the hint to fuck off so please do." Billie said as soon as she was by your side. She slid her arm around your waist and pulled you a bit closer.

It instantly made you feel safer in the presence of this man. You stayed silent the whole time.

Eventually the guy walked away to go bother someone else making you sigh in relief.

Billie turned you around in her arms and held you tight by your waist making you slide your arms around her neck.

"C'mon we're leaving" Billie said and grabbed your hand guiding you to her car. The car ride to the house was mostly silent with Billie's hand on your thigh.

When you arrived at your shared home, Billie was quick to push you up against the wall, kissing you feverishly.

Your tongues moving in sync and fighting for dominance. Billie slid her hands up and down your thighs burning your skin with her touch.

Billie's hand hooked under your thigh and muttered a quick "up" against your mouth. You obeyed and hoisted yourself into her hands.

She carried you up the stairs to your bedroom, laying you gently down on the bed. She started kissing your neck , leaving a trail of hickeys.

Billie's hands went under your shirt, cupping your breasts. Her mouth leaving more kisses on your throat before she removed your shirt in one swift motion.

She kissed along your breasts making you shiver at the sensation. It felt like heaven. Billie took off your bra and instantly took one of your nipples into her mouth, her other hand messaging your other breast.

"Fuck" you moaned and arched you back as billie started kissing down you stomach. Her hands hooked against the fabric and silently asked for permission to take it off.

You nodded your head and bit your lip. Billie took off your skirt and panties, leaving you completely bare in front of her.

Billie wasted no time in kissing your thighs. Your thighs was one of her favorite parts about you. She kissed along the inside of your thigh, holding intense eye contact.

"Please Billie" you moaned wanting to feel her mouth where you needed her most.

You let out a moan of relief when she finally li ked a stripe up your folds. Bill hummed at the taste.

She sucked on your clit, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. The pleasure overwhelming your senses.

Your hands gripped against her hair as she ate you out like a starved woman.

Billie started noticing your thighs twitching. "Come for me princess" Billie hummed before delving right in again.

You closed your eyes tightly feeling your climax building up. Your release finally came crashing down.

"Fuck billie, oh god"

Billie didn't stop until she was sure you rode out your climax.

She crawled up to you and kissed you on the forehead.

"Wait here" She said and got off the bed. You heard the tap be turned off and then turned off.

Billie came back from the bathroom and cleaned you off. Making sure not to be too rough since you were sensitive right now.

After cleaning you up she got one of her t-shirts and out of her closet and put it on you along with a fresh pair of panties.

Billie changed into something comfortable too and climbed into to bed next to you. She held you around your waist with your back pressed up against her.

"You know, jealousy looks good on you" You said after a moment of silence.

"Yeah?" Billie said with a smirk and kissed your cheek pulling you closer.

"Mhm" you murmured tiredly.

Billie just laughed and held you close.

"I love you, princess" She said but she didn't get an answer. She just smiled knowing you were out cold.

Hiiii I hope this is okay since it's my first time writing smut.

Sorry it took long it's just university is not giving me any breaks😭

Hope you like it and HAVE A NICE DAYYYY 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 21: The Concert

Every time they're not on camera I simultaneously feel so relieved for them and so upset that I don't get to watch. Messed up of me, but hey. Remember that slightly disturbing quote where Paul said he actually does believe he's kind of public property and he's fine with that?

He looks so determined. Like the fairy tale prince staring down the dragon or Enjolras about to hijack a funeral (Literally my baby was conceived after I watched this in IMAX so if that tells you anything about my feelings . . . I'm going to be annoying I'm sorry I can't help it)

Her legs look so good in those tights! I love that Mo came not because her boyfriend needs his mommy but because she wants to see them perform! Kissing her on the mouth right now.

Danger boy Paul!

Fun fact, I was this John for Halloween in 2021 to a college party. My hair was already like that, and I had dirty white keds and black jeans, so I just did fake sideburns, fake glasses, and a fake fur coat. I tried to get my best friend to be Paul. She wanted to be a hooker, and I was like “It’s the same thing!”

See, look at him and his whorish ways!

John’s little lip-bit smile. He’s so happy with himself nailing that solo. Cutie. 

Cocky boys. As they should be. I love when they’re proud of their work together. Get Back is 95% just Looks between John and Paul, isn’t it?

John and Paul instantly jump into their little “humble working class entertainers” act. You know what just occurred to me? You know how they talked about the “rattle your jewelry” comment backstage and Paul dared John to say it? I wonder if they talked about the “audition” comment too.

It really is a beautiful thing they’re doing. It’s lovely, watching everyon leave their desk jobs and their shopping and whatever else to sit in their fire escapes and congregate in the street and huddle together on rooftops. It really is just like the happy end in a sixties zeitgeist movie. 

All the girls nervous to be too enthusiastic after years of being made fun of themselves and watching others like them being mocked on TV. Let girls like things, damnit!

Mo jamming! I’m in love.

John mouthing Paul’s lyrics.

“Paul McCartney singing that. What a voice.” Literally me if time travel existed. 

“And if SOMEBODY loved me like she does,” Well, it is good manners to look at the person you’re talking to, I guess. But you do have an audience, John. And a mic and a camera. 

“Absolutely disrupt all the business in this area.” Yes! Get those blue meanies, boys!

“No lay rishi gahd blay bloojaygoo” should replace all the stupid quotes the Lennon estate puts on everything they sell. Then I’d actually want their shit. Paul trying to magic the words from his head into John’s there. Successfully, though.

That “Pleeeeeheeeeease” is one of the prettiest beatles vocal moments. I love it with all my heart. And clearly, so does Paul. Doing that thing he does, inappropriately thrusting into his bass. 

Oh my gosh it’s the song Paul and John do together on tour right now!

That “Yyyyyeeeeeah, yeaaaaaah!” (I mean the whole song, the whole concert, but especially that) does things to me. 

John’s extremely blurry, because he turned his head quick enough to give him whiplash there, sorry everyone. But look! They’re having the time of their lives! They just love performing together so much!

Everyone goes to check on their accumulating audience. (except Paul. Wonder what that’s about.)Ringo’s little pleasantly surprised smile is so so sweet!

It must be so fun for them to be performing One after 909 again after all these years. Bitter sweet with everything that’s changed since then. 

LMAO Kevin thank you for your service!

He’s a silly cutie.

The mic in the street asking that girl if she’d like them to come back every lunchtime. Imagine if they did? How cute would that be? Like back to their cavern lunchtime shows. Maybe that could’ve saved them.

Them playing God Save the Queen reminds me of that story where Brian was like, “This bigger manager wants to buy your contract from me, and I just wanted to be straight with you. They could probably get better deals for you.” and they were like, “If you sell us to him we’re only playing God Save the Queen from that moment on.” It’s probably a fake story, but that’s what it made me think of. 

I always think that quote of Paul’s is so strange, where he was like “I never got the chance to watch John while we were playing.” Like. What are you talking about, baby?

Literally “Uh. Yeah. Uh. Yeah.” Fucking his bass. Staring at John. Okay? And I’m not supposed to take that and run with it? I’m not supposed to assume from that that you want to fuck your songwriting partner?

I think he genuinely wants to get arrested. I really do. I think he wants them all to get arrested so they can finally be alone in a room together. A lovely cell for four. Just shimmying at them. And Billy looking at him like, Bro. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Paul’s “woo” and shimmy :: John’s “woo” and weird little kick move. And Paul looks so fond, of course. 

God bless Mal for stalling those little fucks as long as humanly possible. And Debbie! “Don’t actually go on the roof because it’s overweight.” Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss!

Absolutely LOVE John and George turning their amps back on. That’s right. You guys are what’s keeping the country going at this point, so if you want to play on your roof they better let you play on your roof and say thank you.

All the times when they just simultaneously turn to each other. Like, yes, this is our que to stare hungrily into each other’s eyes. 

My stomach just dropped at those words across the screen. “This was the Beatles’ last public performance.” We know, Peter Jackson. You don’t have to remind us. Jeez. 

John and Paul’s two very different but equally important leadership roles in the band at work here at the end of the concert. John delivers his iconic line, makes everyone laugh, and seals the band’s last performance with a very tight bow. Meanwhile, Paul’s climbing the gate to bypass the crowd and schmooze the police out of arresting Mal. 

THIS is sooo cute. Heads buried together and John’s very sweet, “‘s’matter? Hmm?” 

George is so cute here in the control room afterward. No wonder they don’t listen to his not wanting to do things, honestly, if he acts like this after. “What’s the law say why you can’t do that? Well how disturbing the peace? Yeah, I’m for taking over London. And every rock group in the world all on different buildings, playing the same tune.” Adorable.

Poor John. It breaks my heart that he doesn’t think his little lyric flub is funny. He’s disappointed in himself. I wish he could see that that’s one of the things everyone loves about him. George was grinning ear to ear about it. For fuck’s sake, that’s one of the reasons Paul fell in love with you in the first place. If only John could see himself the way we see him, you know? 

This little moment cracks me up. John always has to be mommy’s naughty little boy, and Yoko does a very sweet job of playing her part here. 

Linda and Paul are so touchy and clingy and it’s very romantic and I love that Ringo joins in and makes fun of them.   

The whole after-show glow for everyone was just so palpable and fantastic. I wish they could've gone on performing together. Clearly it made all of them very happy.

[gatheringbones]

[“Terry’s hair was long & thick, bleached blond, perhaps because she wanted to be a princess in a fairy tale instead of real. We wrote letters to one another, passionately declaring our eternal love, which the technicians stole. One night when she was sitting on my bed in the dorm after lights out, as I brushed her hair, they threw on the lights in a frenzy of disgust & separated us for being lesbians. We were too drugged and too frightened to do more than hold hands. The head nurse was a lesbian, who called Terry’s mother, who came the next day to take her home to her psychiatrist father, to whom she had not spoken in over four years. I was sent to the old women’s ward for punishment, where my job was to feed the bed-bound ladies, some of them in restraints all the time. The stench of urine & untreated cancer was overwhelming. I wrote long, intense letters to Terry, which I could not send, hiding them under my green plastic mattress. Terry’s stars are deep burgundy, & I bleed into the other colors when I mourn that we never made love.

Then Maggie was dragged onto our ward, in hot pink tights & purple smock, her teeth glittering with mischief Far from being depressed by the surroundings, she sang bawdy songs to the old ladies she fed, opening our misery with laughter. She was from a wealthy Marin family who sent her there to straighten her up & scare her into agreeing to marry the man they wanted to sell her off to, although they wouldn’t say it like that (she did). Somehow her wedding veil was among her belongings. She liked to wear it to the vast dining barrack because it annoyed the nurses so much. It was very beautiful, expensive lace which she trailed behind her like indifference. One day Maggie & I decided to get married. The guy who thought he was jesus was happy to perform our ceremony, held in the courtyard of our adjoining wards, surrounded by hundreds of old glass windows barred with iron grates. I wore Maggie’s veil & my Napa State Hospital white cardigan tied to make a train. We both carried huge bouquets of lilacs, which were blooming wildly in that hot, dry country. All our patient guests cheered & clapped so loudly that we couldn’t hear what jesus was saying. We only got to stroll down the sidewalk, showered with rice that Edith had filched from the kitchen where she was one of the cooks, before our union was rudely interrupted by burly male guards straining with anger in their white uniforms.

Everyone was locked down, some of us in solitary, & the bells went off for riot alert. Maggie’s poor veil was ripped apart by their feet & rage & arms. The head nurse (another lesbian) called Maggie’s mother that night, & before I had a chance to kiss her hello & goodbye, Maggie was driven away the next morning in her father’s limp-dick limo (her words again), as we ate our powdered eggs, silently depressed.

However, Maggie was a very sneaky & smart girl. She calmly arrived the following day in her VW bug (custom-painted purple, as are her stars) & said she had come back to collect her belongings, which no one had thought to pack up. Her mother, a master materialist (probably hoping for the veil), was very understanding. The hospital wanted to be accommodating in hope of future funds. So Maggie surprised me by returning to busily pack up not very much. We weren’t allowed to talk, & the nurses were watching us sharply until Ursula, understanding our need, threw her tennis shoe at the TV, screaming. Maggie palmed me a note to meet her by the lilac hedge behind the building, where she had conveniently parked. I left as though going to my new job at the dairy (cow shit apparently being a step up from human shit). The other women realized Ursula’s intentions & took off their keds, too. My last sight of that day room (where I had been declared incurably schizophrenic) was of flying sneakers, screaming technicians, breaking glass, & laughing patients—a really lovely melee. Because, of course, Maggie had returned to rescue me. We pulled out the backseat of her bug & I lay down across the battery. She laid a Mexican blanket over me, while I tried to project looking like a backseat. She piled her boxes, mostly empty, on top of me. The guards at the main gate were distracted by another call from the ward where the women who weren’t strapped down could not be contained. Maggie smiled, they gave her back her driver’s license, & off we went. On the other side of town, Maggie freed me from my seat charade & I tasted the wind in my hair for the first time in more than a year. She drove me to Big Sur, where I’d never been & they wouldn’t look for me (I had seven previous escapes, which is why I was on the violent ward so often, a curious juxtaposition—is freedom indeed violence, for lesbians?). In her trunk she had a sleeping bag, some food, money, & clothes that didn’t say Napa State on them for me. She dropped me near an overpass under which fellow fugitives of all kinds were camped, driving back to Marin, where perhaps she did escape marrying him. My belongings & three cartons of writing may still be in a dusty storage room at Napa. I guess I’m AWOL. Freedom’s worth the loss. If not for Maggie, I’d still be in the loony bin, incurable & terrified, not allowed to be a lesbian except with technicians. But I ripped that nurse out of the quilt.

Big Sur was rich with empty summer houses we raided for canned goods as a gang of teenage runaways, Vietnam War deserters, Rez escapees & drug dealers. We caught and roasted a wild pig. We hid out from the park rangers. We flirted with soldiers from the base for bags of potato chips, Hostess lemon pies, & chocolate bars. It was my theory we wouldn’t get scurvy if we ate the pies. We dropped acid & had orgies & stole into the mud baths at night. I was in a fog & detoxing from the nuthouse drugs, until one dusk when my eyes became diamond sharp at the sight of a thin young guy getting out of a hitchhiking ride at the convenience store near the campgrounds. He had black wavy hair cut in a DA falling forward over his face, wearing a leather motorcycle jacket that oozed sex. Our eyes caught across the parking lot & I fell in love like slamming into earth. I walked over, offering my open bag of BBQ pork rinds. Her reaching hand made me laugh & I blurted out, “I thought you were a guy.” She looked me up & down intensely, startled me by stroking my crotch with a quick secret movement, & growled, “Good.”]

chrystos, from cherry picker, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000

[gymbunnycandiehart]

10 Don’ts for any Gym Bunny

1) Don’t be a sissy in the gym–I get it: Some gym bunnies want to be sissies and be humiliated or feminized by men or women.  If that’s your thing, more to you.  But don’t be a sissy in the gym.  Just because you’re a guy dressed like a girl doesn’t mean you have to be a powder puff.

2) Don’t let the gym rats steal your joy–Nobody should steal your joy.  They might assault your happiness, but nobody can take the joy that belongs to you.  Those intolerant beastly men (gym rats) are just upset because you’re hotter than their girlfriend.

3) Don’t overpad your sports bra–I can see why you would want to look stacked, but there’s no logical reason to give yourself extra padding.  Nobody wants to see your pads falling out all over the place. 

4) Don’t be a harry Mary in beast mode–On the flip side of being a sissy, neither do you want to be a clumpy beast of a guy.  It just doesn’t work.  Yes, work out hard and tough, but don’t try to compensate for the lack of manliness you are exhibiting in your cute workout clothes.

5) Don’t be a tease without intent–It’s a lot of fun to be a tease, to flirt, or pose seductively with weights in hand.  But if you’re not trying to garner the sexual attention of some guy or girl, don’t do it.  Save it for the shower (lol-just kidding).

6) Don’t wear tennis shoes twice in two days–Keep your outfits mixed up.  If you are a true gym bunny, you have at least six pairs of adorable sneakers.  Mix it up one day to the next and keep yourself looking fresh and beautiful from head to toe!

7) Don’t wear Keds to lift weights–Yeah, they’re cute with rompers and cutoff shorts, but they have no place in the squat rack…or even in the zumba class.  They’re not made for that.  Save them for the mall or for the boardwalk.

8) Don’t fret over your revealing clothing–If you’ve got a good tuck going on (see #10), then there is no reason why you can’t be as bare as permissible.  You don’t want to be a slouch and you need not worry over what others think.  If you’ve got it, flaunt it…not for others, but for your developing personality.

9) Don’t mismatch your tops and bottoms–If I have to explain this one, then you need to take up golf from the seniors’ tees.

10) Don’t forget to tuck yourself tightly–You’ll get used to it.  Nothing ruins a sleek womanly look than some unsightly bulge in tight-fitted hot shorts.  You’re better than that.

This was an OLD OLD post from way back when, but what a fun one! Have fun in the gym, girlies.

Love ya much

CandieHart

[maybeimamuppet]

what ifs, might haves, could have beens

She freezes in her tracks when she sees her. A cute floral skirt just past her knees, a t-shirt tucked into it, and some remarkably well matched Keds all convey an almost Miss Honey-esque vibe. But what gets Regina most is the hair.

That familiar strawberry blonde, falling in gentle ringlets a bit past her shoulders. It’s shorter now than it was back then, but she has the front pieces twisted back like a crown just like she did that first day they met.

She turns, her floral skirt whirling after her, and smiles instinctively as she sees the two of them. Her eyebrows raise high on her forehead as she recognizes Regina before her. “Regina? Oh my god, it’s so good to see you!”

Before Regina knows how to react, Cady’s wrapping her in a tight, friendly hug. She’s still a head shorter than Regina. Just like in high school. “Cady Heron. As I live and breathe.”

[kscosplaycatalog]

No. 3 - 2008

Character: Yazoo Series: Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children by Square Enix

Cosplayer Credits: - Kadaj : Kat - Reno : Jaiden

Photo Credits: - ChibiPa's nope - FSC's TigerFist - Morataya Photography - Our friend, Chris - Our friend, Kirky

==========

I definitely can't wear this costume anymore. We actually made them in such a way that we didn't need to bind or anything for them because they sort of acted like a corset/binder all on their own. They were also so form-fitting up top that I couldn't lift my arms up beyond a certain point; I could barely touch my own face. And living in FL, we did almost die of heat stroke a few times taking pics outside... so yeah, don't do that! 😂

==========

We finished everything in time for MetroCon '08 except for the weapons which we completed at the end of October.

All of the leather material aspects are made of car leather which is a lot thicker than most other fabrics because it had, not only a leather top, but a cloth underside. We made the coat first, but used the wrong needles and broke about 4-6 of them. We made our own pattern from a form-fitting jacket we had and extended it to the appropriate length. Each piece of the side design was separately sewn into place on a piece of organza. Once it was a whole piece, we sewed the whole thing on the coat. We purchased the custom zippers from ZipperSource.com. The wrists were crafted with wooden bangles purchased at Michael's and hot glued into place. The boots were made from on-sale Keds and a cover. We made a pattern to get the leather to be form-fitting and hot glued the covers in place. We already had costume gloves and the pants were merely tights. We made the big shoulder armor pieces out of cardboard, polyfil and a bit of furniture foam. The little ones were just stuffed. We hand sewed the little ones to the big ones. The straps were also hand sewed to the armor and the snaps were stomped in place (literally). The wigs were purchased from eBay seller CosplayWig.

Kadaj's weapon was made out of Balsa wood and my father, a carpenter, crafted it. Kat finished it off by wrapping the hilt and adding the black and white ribbons. Yazoo's weapon was made out of spruce wood and bits of metal for the trigger, trigger guard, hammer, and site. I used a hot glue gun to make the designs.

==========

Cost: $185 Time: ~900 hrs

==========

This costume has won the following awards: - Best in Show @ ChibiPa in 2008 - Hall Costume Contest @ MizuCon in 2008 - Best Technical @ Infinite Bits in 2009

[wardenparker]

Close Encounters of the Toothy Kind

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst​

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 9.2k Warnings: *Reader has a nickname right up front.* Evan being his whiny self. Alcohol consumption but no one’s judgement is impaired. Light power dynamics, biting (blood is drawn), oral sex (female receiving), hair pulling, dirty talk, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, monster fucking, rough sex, vampire kink/fetish. Summary: The company Halloween party is way more fun than you ever expected - even if your coworker and roommate Evan doesn’t think so. Notes: Happy Spooktober everyone! This little fangbang has been brewing in our minds for months now and it turned out even better than I ever dreamed! Smothered in pop culture references and plenty of cheeky fun. 🎃🧡🧛‍♀️ 

Ever since Max Phillips was in high school, he knew how to throw a party. It helped get him laid both there and later on in college. Even throughout getting his MBA and graduating, his attention to detail for having a good time led to some of the most memorable parties on campus. It was something he considered a little extra that he had to offer a company beyond the normal impressive résumé. Because in order to throw a great party, you had to know what people wanted. You had to read their wants through the small conversations and the body language of the person.

It was also useful in closing deals and impressing clients. Which was why he had pulled out all the stops tonight in the annual Halloween party. It wasn't just a sad, alcohol-free punch and those horrid cookies that Zarabeth makes. This is impressive. The smoke machines and black lights contrasted the disco balls that twirl overhead giving the event a truly spooky vibe.

"You'll see, Cat." Evan looks around nervously, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin under your elbow as he propels the two of you forward into the "East Ballroom" swallowing as he takes in the decorations. "I'm not crazy. Max is a vampire."

“Ev, it’s okay to just not like the guy.” Evan is an okay roommate. He really is. He’s clean and doesn’t cook horrible food, and he’s even handy with a toolkit when things need a little TLC. But this crusade he’s been on against your boss is just insane. Pulling at your tight Camp Crystal Lake t-shirt and smoothing your short shorts, you’ll be the first to admit that you took the easy way out with your costume this year, but Friday the 13th camp counselor was just too good to pass up. The Halloween store in town even had knee socks with Jason’s hockey mask on them to go with your Keds sneakers. “Let’s just have a couple of drinks and hang out. Maybe not get weird over your obsessive hatred of our boss?”

"I'm telling you he's a vampire!" Evan hisses, the cords in his neck bulging and he doesn't understand why you don't believe him. He looks around and groans, rolling his eyes and pointing. "He's even mocking it. Look at him." Max smirks as he watches you and Evan at the entrance of the ball room. Evan looked panicked and pale. He wonders if the poor schmuck is still trying to convince everyone that he's a vampire. It is so much fun to watch him freak out like the obsessive little turd that he is and push everyone away with his theories. Amanda had finally dumped him for good and started dating Andrew, which was a much better prospect for her in Max's opinion. He takes his eye off you and checks the buffet table again. The caterer that he had chosen had promised him that the canapés would all be haunted and ghoulish and so far they hadn't disappointed.

“Oh hell yeah, Lost Boys!” You grin, seeing the costume that Max has expertly pieced together. Max Phillips might be a frat boy and occasional asshat, but he has an attention for detail that has to be admired. And frankly? He’s ridiculously hot. A fact only enhanced by leather and eyeliner, in your opinion. Sure he’s a little obnoxious, so you just keep the fact that you have a little – okay, big – thing for him on the quiet side. Especially since your roommate despises him. “Evan,” you look at your roommate now, decked out in his Van Helsing costume like he’s in some kind of righteous crusade. “I am begging you to just let tonight be about fun and not this hyper focus.”

Evan rolls his eyes and gives you a disappointed look. "You're going to believe me." He promises you. "By the end of tonight, you will know the truth - Max Phillips is a vampire."

"I sure am." Max agrees easily, appearing at your side and wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "David from Lost Boys." He clarifies. "Glad you can make it Camp Crystal Lake Counselor." He doesn't waste the opportunity to look at your legs, you've got them on display after all and you aren't on company property.

"Max." Evan greets him through clenched teeth, furious that he's touching you.

“Evan made me a name tag,” you tell Max with a grin, pointing to the sticky Hi! My Name Is badge on your shirt that features your office nickname - Cat - and a little cartoon drawing of black cat beside it. “Nice party, Max.” You may keep your attraction under wraps, but that doesn’t mean you can’t just be a generally nice person.

“Thanks Kitty Cat.” Max sends you a small wink and looks around. “We’ve got a couple of our clients and potential clients here so I could get away with splurging. Plus, I love Halloween.” He smirks over at Evan. “All the things that go bump in the night come out.”

“Does that mean there’s good booze?” You ask, one eyebrow ticking up at Max curiously. Splurging on clients might mean there’s actually something tasty. “I heard a rumor about sangria or punch or something, but that might have been Elaine’s wishful thinking.”

“Ohhhh the Bloody Sangria is my own recipe.” He tells you with a grin. “There’s also Witches Brew, Poisoned Apples and Demon Juice.” He points to the bar where premixed cocktails are being poured up into glasses where the base is a skeleton’s hand.

“Sangria for sure.” That stupid exaggerated grin on Max’s face shouldn’t be charming, but he’s got vampire fang caps on his teeth and alright, maybe you had a little thing for Kiefer Sutherland as a teenager that the Lost Boys costume is playing into. To Evan you throw a pout, silently asking him to play nice before heading to the bar with Max.

“Make sure you get some appetizers too.” Max hums knowingly. “Those drinks sneak up on you and we don’t want you buzzed too quickly.” He catches the eye of a prospective client and pats your shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you later, enjoy yourself Kitty Cat.”

“Come on, Ev.” You reach for his hand but resist when he tries tangling your fingers together, tired of repeating that you are not interested in him romantically. He’s a good roommate and a decent friend, but as a boyfriend? Not your type at all. “Drink with me, eat with me. It’ll be fun.”

“I’m not touching anything Max could have corrupted.” Evan huffs, annoyed that you are so flirty with him. You need to just trust him.

“He’s not going to poison our clients.” Rolling your eyes at him is still playful, because you’ve definitely always thought of Evan as more of a brother than anything else, and you nod toward the bar. “I bet they have beer in bottles that Max can’t have tainted with his spooky vampire vibes.”

Evan blows out a sigh and dutifully follows you like a lost puppy, wondering how he can possibly convince you about Max. “Hey man.” Tim smirks and lifts the glass of alcohol up. “You came.”

“I had to drag him out of the apartment,” you tease, giving Tim a hug before slipping past him to the bar for a glass of sangria.

“Would you like an extra shot of Vampire’s blood in your sangria?” The bartender asks with a smile. “It’s a floater of blackberry moonshine.”

“Why the hell not. Go big or go home, right?” You laugh, cringing at the cliched phrase before you shrug your shoulders. “And a Bud Light.” The least you can do is grab Evan’s first beer for him, since you did drag him out tonight. Being convinced that some socialization that didn’t happen under neon lights with phone headsets attached to your heads would be good for him might not have been correct.

Evan looks around the room in jealousy, begrudgingly impressed with the party. Hating how this man took his job and was actually doing a bang-up job. He takes the beer from you and eyes it for a moment before he hears Max’s laugh across the room. “Fuck it.” He groans and puts the bottle to his lips.

“Atta boy,” Tim laughs before strolling away when he spies someone he wants to say hi to across the large room.

“Eat, drink, and be merry,” you agree with a grin. You just want tonight to be fun. Maybe get Evan talking to the new girl from Legal that he said was cute a couple of days ago. Anything to get his mind away from the vampire thing.

Max keeps an eye on you as he makes his way around the room. Partly because it drives Evan insane. He might have made a couple of veiled threats to change you next. But mostly it was because he was very intrigued by the way your tits look up under that t-shirt. He had plenty of fantasies about his counselors when he was younger and his grandma made him go to the sleep away vacation Bible camps in the summer.

******

The deejay they hired for tonight is doing an excellent job of keeping the energy up, and you walk past the table just in time to hear Deliah from HR begging him to play Thriller again, making you laugh as you hit the bar. This sangria is addictive and you lean back against the sturdy wood to look around the room while the bartender pours you glass number three. Evan has finally started talking to the girl from Legal and from where you are it looks like she might even be interested in him so you send up a little positive energy in his direction and sigh. Maybe now you can actually relax and find someone to dance with - a thought which feels slightly bitchy considering you know Evan would dance with you if you asked. But you’d like to dance with someone you’re attracted to, which seriously narrows the field around here.

Max chuckles to himself when he sees you going back for another drink. He slides up behind you, leaning over your shoulder to murmur in your ear. “Enjoying yourself, Kitty Cat?”

“Max!” You didn’t see him approach and definitely would have done a spit take if you had had a sip of drink in your mouth when he spoke. “Uh— yeah, actually. Your sangria’s really good.”

“I’m glad you enjoy it.” He purrs with a delighted smile. “I like the body of it.” He waggles his brows. “And the way that it sneaks up on you.”

“The body of the bloody sangria?” It’s dumb, and you probably wouldn’t laugh at it if you weren’t two drinks in and finding the 80s vamp look on him a little extra hot. “Har har.”

Max winks at you. “Planning on being the first victim of the night?” He asks, leaning in. “Or are you going to be the counselor that survives?”

“Oh, come on.” Leaning back against the bar, you toss him the same smirk you would give anybody in this situation. “Nobody wants to die first. I’m totally Final Girl material. Nancy Thompson, Laurie Strode, and me.”

“You sure?” He leans in and flicks your name badge. “Kitty Cat survives?” He hums, smirking at you.

“For sure.” The authoritative nod you give him when the bartender sets your drink down beside your elbow comes with a grin. “I’m not afraid of some big bad monster.”

“Really?” He flashes his fangs at you playfully. Everyone thinks they are fake but why would he do fake fangs when he has the real thing. “Not even a skipping beat of your heart?”

“Not even.” It’s a dirty lie because you’re a damn scaredy cat, but at the same time you do love the adrenaline rush of a scary movie. The fake fangs are more of a turn on than anything else, which is probably the real reason your blood is currently pumping.

“I think you’re lying.” He coos, leaning in closer and brushing his nose against your pulse. The smell of your blood is intoxicating, and he groans quietly.

“Rude.” You laugh, picking up your drink and nudging him with your elbow. Maybe it’s a little more flirtatious than you would ever be regularly, but this is outside of work hours, outside of the office, and it’s a party.

“Just honest, Kitty cat.” He chuckles, watching you take another sip of your drink.

“I don’t know why I let you call me that.” Yes you do. You absolutely know why. It’s because he’s hot as fuck. It had taken almost a year to accept being called Cat at work and then Max just rolled in and added kitty to it and you just let it slide. “Maybe I instinctively knew you’d have a killer sangria recipe that I’d want to steal.”

“Better than what I was going to call you when I first met you.” He confides with a cocky grin.

“Oh god.” You choke on a laugh before taking a sip of your drink. “Do I want to know?”

He snickers to himself and shuffles closer. Leaning in to whisper in your ear. “Pussy…Cat.” He purrs, making sure to emphasize the first word.

That…is not what you expected, and you definitely feel a very visceral reaction to Max’s breath on your neck. You can practically feel your panties drench at the implication that he might be interested in you, too. But that’s…that’s a stretch, right? It has to be. Max flirts with all the women in the office.

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” He hums, wondering if he’s misread the subtle signals you’ve sent him.

“A little.” You have to admit that, as silly as it makes you feel when you tilt your head to look at him. “Surprised, I guess?”

“Why would you be surprised?” He lifts his brows, shocked that you didn’t know that you are a gorgeous woman. “Every man in this room would take you home if they could.”

“Maybe.” Shrugging, you take another sip of your drink before turning to face him fully. Whether it’s the booze or the atmosphere or the light-switch flick of a mood change, you’re feeling bold. “But I’m not interested in them.”

“And who are you interested in?” He asks, intrigued by who would be your taste. Surely not Evan, he’s heard him moan about you turning him down to Tim too often in the break room.

“Seriously?” It’s probably a good thing that he has to ask, it means you haven’t been too obvious at work. Although you kind of thought you were being pretty obvious right now. “I mean, don’t fire me over it, but…you…”

“Hmmmmm.” Max flashes you a wicked, fanged-filled grin. “That’s not something I would ever fire you over Pussy Cat.”

“That nickname is gonna stick now, isn’t it?” You can feel the heat in your cheeks, nerves and embarrassment rising right along with arousal. He’s looking at you half like you’re a fucking meal and half like something else that you can’t quite pinpoint but you’re fairly certain you’re going to enjoy.

“Yes it is.” He chuckles again. “But only when we’re alone.”

“We’re never alone.” More than anything it’s just pointing out a fact. Aside from the rare occasion that he has called you into his office, The two of you have never actually been alone. Maybe once you were the only two people in the break room at the same time, but that was in passing and the door was open. It wasn’t exactly private.

“Then maybe we should be alone.” Max offers with a smirk. He can smell your interest, but he wants this to be completely your choice.

“Seriously?” You ask again, still a little incredulous that he could be interested. “I mean…I didn’t think…” But he’s looking at you like that and you swallow the lump in your throat so hard that it bottoms out all the way down in your pussy. “I mean, yeah. That sounds like fun.”

“Yeah?” He bites his lip with his fangs exposed. “You want to be alone?” He waits for you to nod and he smirks. “How about now?”

“Eager.” But it makes you flush with your own fervent desire, wondering if he means just finding a dark corner of the party, leaving together, or if his mind has jumped straight to hooking up. It occurs to you, as you smirk and pick up your drink to down it quickly (no sense in wasting, obviously) that you don’t care. “Fuck it. Yeah. What do you have in mind?” Evan is going to be so fucking pissed but you just can’t bring yourself to care at the moment.

He chuckles, surprised that you’ve said yes, but also very happy that you have. “I think the innocent camp counselor should go into the bathroom to be ravished by the dangerous vampire.” He hums as he lifts a brow.

Straight to hooking up, you acknowledge with a smirk. It doesn’t really surprise you. Max isn’t exactly known as a relationship guy around the office. Either way, you don’t mind making him a notch on your proverbial bedpost tonight. “You go for the innocent thing, huh?” It makes your smirk deepen just that much more. “Noted,” you murmur in his ear before taking the strut all the way out of your step and hightailing it out of the hotel ballroom toward the unisex bathroom down the hall.

Max watches you walk away for a long moment, admiring the view. “Turned you down, huh?” Evan’s pithy little comment makes his smirk reappear as he turns towards the other man.

“Guess so.” He chirps, unwilling to let Evan cause a scene and prevent his little rendezvous with you. Some sacrifices must be made and right now, wiping the smug, satisfied look off Evan’s face is on the chopping block.

“She’ll never date you. Or fuck you.” He tells Max, his eyes darting around but the little fucker is brave around a crowd in the ballroom - confident Max won’t cause a scene. “So you should just leave her alone.”

“Same could be said for you, slugger.” Max pops back with a wink. “After all, if I lived in the same apartment with that little Kitty Cat, I’m sure I would have wooed her by now.” He chuckles and gives Evan a sympathetic look. “Guess you just aren’t what she’s looking for…” Max lets Evan stew for a moment and right when the other man opens his mouth, he interrupts him. “Whelp! I better go take a piss, all the Bloody cocktails have gotten to me.” He smirks. “Try the special sangria I have behind the bar.” He confides. “They have it just for me, but tell them Max said it was okay.” He turns around and whistles as he walks towards the bathrooms, knowing Evan is fuming.

It takes just long enough before you hear footsteps outside the bathroom door for you to start doubting yourself. Wondering if you just made a completely dumbass mistake that’s going to make life hell at work from now on, or if Max really did use the specific word ravishing or a million other little paranoid concerns. You’re in the process of telling yourself to get a goddamn grip when the bathroom door clicks open.

Max raises a brow at you, seeing the doubt and second guessing on your face. “Change your mind, Pussy Cat?” He asks as he steps inside and closes the door. If you don’t want to do this, it wouldn’t be nice to have the rumor mill spin if someone looked in and saw the two of you. “I got caught up by Evan trying to warn me away from you.”

“Thought you might have changed yours,” you admit, but the news that it was Evan who caused the delay makes you relax again instantly. “Ev’s just…protective.”

He snorts and sends you a knowing look. “Evan wants to be in your bed.” He counters. “He’s like the annoying little puppy that chews on your shoelaces and tries - and fails - to hump your leg.”

“To be fair, he’s never actually tried to hump my leg.” The comparison makes you laugh though, and you shake your head. “He knows I’m not interested in him.”

“He knows…but he doesn’t know.” Max smirks as he flips the lock and takes a step towards you. “He might get the hint tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” It’s not like you had been planning on broadcasting this little interlude around the office, so the idea of news of it getting back to Evan hadn’t even been on your mind.

“Only if you wanted.” He chuckles, reaching out and stroking your arm, his eyes on yours. “He’ll know when you scream my name.”

The corners of your lips tick up in a smirk as you step into him, feeling your heart speed up and your pussy clench at that kind of promise. “I guess you better make sure I scream loud enough, then.”

Max’s eyes flash and his smirk grows wider. “Only thing I like more than making a sale is a challenge, Pussy Cat.” He growls, stalking towards you like a predator cornering his prey.

It would probably come across as way too dramatic if you weren’t honestly so goddamn turned on, but as it is? You’re in exactly the right frame of mind to find that broad frame and cocky ass smirk enticing as hell. “Then what are you waiting for?”

“Permission.” Quicker than he probably should have, but not enough to be too obvious, Max pins you against the row of industrial yet aesthetically pleasing sinks and hand soap units. Your back is to the mirror, and he leers with his nose pressed right against yours.

Your sharp gasp and wide eyes definitely lend themselves toward that whole innocent thing he supposedly likes, and the way he has your back bowed so that your tits are pushed against his chest is only adding to the heaving effect. "Max..."

"Yessssss, Pussy Cat?" He doesn't kiss you, not yet. He likes the teasing and the way that your breath catches in your throat. It makes the veins flood with blood and it smells so sweet as your body heats up even more than normal.

"Shit..." The realization makes you roll your eyes even as you're nearly panting in anticipation. "Of course you're a tease."

He tsks in disappointment at your seemingly bemoaning of his traits. "You don't think it enhances...." his 'fake' fangs graze your throat slowly before he retracts them and places the most delicate kiss on your galloping pulse, "anticipation?"

The way you almost whimper is a complete giveaway that it definitely is an enhancement, and you shiver a little. Being caged between his arms against the counter makes you feel caught in a delicious sort of way. "M-maybe."

"Hmmmmm." Max is already hard, pressing against your hip through your camp counselor shorts and one hand moves from the cold counter to grab your side. "Don't worry, Pussy Cat." He follows up the small kiss with a slow drag of his tongue up the line of your neck. "I won't bite hard...unless you want me to."

Evan’s ridiculous vampire claim rings in your ears again, completely unwanted, and you smirk as you tip your head to one side to give him all the access to your neck as he could possibly want. “It’s been a while since I’ve been properly manhandled,” you murmur, tugging on his earlobe with your teeth as his head hangs right beside yours. “Sounds like fun.”

Max hisses, cock jumping when your teeth nip his skin. "Fuck." He huffs, trying to decide if he wants a quickie, or if he just wants to destroy you. Your giggle makes up his mind for him, pulling away and dropping down to his knees to unbutton those ridiculously tiny shorts you are wearing. The prospect of devouring your cunt while you have knee highs and sneakers on is appealing.

"Shit." Max Phillips on his knees is not a sight you ever thought you'd see - both because you didn't ever think you'd actually be in this position with him and a little bit because you thought he might be one of those guys who was prissy about the smell or taste of pussy as an excuse to never give oral - but it's fucking glorious. It takes all of thirty seconds for your cutoffs to be tossed across the damn room, and Max's eyes are eye level with the soaked through crotch of your white cotton panties.

"Virginal." He hums, smirking up at you before he reaches out and rubs the damp fabric. "Even though I know you aren't, it makes you look even more like a teenage counselor that might survive the night."

Looking down at him with the most innocent expression you can muster, you can see just how wide his pupils have grown since getting the first bit of your clothing off. "Of course I'm innocent. I don't know why you would possibly think otherwise." You intone, wondering if he's into roleplay enough to want the whole act.

He chuckles, hooking a finger in the band of your panties so he can start dragging them down. "Because good virginal girls don’t let sinful vampires eat their pussy in the bathroom." He teases, leaning in and blowing on your heated pussy lips and giving you a fang-filled smile.

This time your whimper is accompanied by the eager way you open up for him, totally willing to spread your legs for him before he's even kissed you. It's not like you're expecting a lasting and deep connection out of fucking your boss in the bathroom at the company party. You're horny, not delusional.

Your ass is perched against the counter so Max wastes no time in shoving his shoulders under your legs, bringing your thighs to his shoulders and he winks at you, right before his mouth envelopes your cunt in a large bite, his fangs retracting again so he doesn't puncture your lips.

They definitely heard you moaning in the hallway, but you couldn't care less as you brace yourself with one hand on the counter and sink the fingers of your other hand into his thick, artfully messy hair. The heat of his mouth and determination of his tongue as he licks a long, flat stripe up the length of your sex is enough to have you tossing your head back and shutting your eyes in pleasure. Or it would be, if you didn't want to watch his every movement so desperately.

There is an art to pussy eating. He had tried to tell Evan that when the prick was in college with him, but he had been too busy thinking Max was an asshole. It might have been one of the reasons his roommate's girlfriend had jumped into his bed when Evan was away for a long weekend. She had obviously listened to the tips he had tried to impart. Enough to be curious, at least. His tongue twists around your clit and he flicks it playfully before his tongue slides down again, curious to taste you right from the honeyed little well between your thighs. Your fingers curl tightly, nails digging into his scalp instinctively before soothing the bite away. Apparently you never noticed Max having an overly long tongue, but he is curled into the absolute depths of you in a way that has you rolling your hips forward and pushing down as if he isn't already completely buried in your cunt.

Max groans into your folds, loving how you don't mind being a little more forceful. His cock twitches and he holds your legs wide so he can curl his tongue deeper, licking into you with fevered eagerness. He knows what the fuck he's doing, you'll give him that. Any idea that you had about him being selfish in bed is being completely washed away by the deep growling sounds floating up to you from his throat and the way those vibrations roll through your body to have you whining and writhing and almost ready to burst in no time.

His eyes fixate on you. Responding to the micro expressions as he works your cunt with his tongue. If you’re going to fuck him; you’re damn well going to have nothing but good things to say about him. His fingers dig into the tender flesh of your thighs and he huffs, not needing to breathe, but you would expect him to make some noise.

“Holy shit, Max—” Every time you get a gulp of air he pushes it out again, cutting off your moan of his name and twisting it into a harsh gasp with a dexterous flick of his tongue that swirls around your clit like a lollipop. “S—so— good! Fuck.”

He chuckles into you, waiting until you look down at him again before he sends you a small wink and sucks your clit into his mouth, ripping your orgasm out of you.

You’ve never outright just screamed while cumming before, but this one comes tearing out of you like an igniting fire that leaves you shaking and cursing and grasping at any bit of him you can get your hands on so that you don’t just collapse backward into one of the sinks behind you. “Oh my fucking god, Max.” You’re practically dizzy from the force of it, which just makes you giggle in filthy glee when you can breathe again.

He is smug as he kisses your clit one last time before he leans back and looks up at you. “Did I pass muster, counselor?” He teases.

“With the first test.” You nod eagerly, getting air back in your lungs as you reach to drag him up for a kiss. You haven’t gotten to yet and now that he’s had his mouth on you, you’re dying to indulge.

Max goes willingly, fusing his mouth to yours and sliding his hands up under your shirt. Wanting to get his hands on your tits for a long time, he moans as he cups them over your bra and slides his tongue into your mouth at the same time.

Moaning into the kiss is a natural instinct. His large hands envelope your overheated skin easily, somehow easing the heat of arousal at the same time he intensifies it. It’s you who tears your shirt away, ready to just throw every stitch aside and thoroughly fucking enjoy yourself.

He pulls away from you to admire the view as he unhooks your bra and tosses it away. "Fucking in your shoes, I'm digging it." He teases, pinching your nipples and ducking down to pull one into his mouth.

“Feels—” His talented mouth cuts you off and you almost squeal, letting it dissolve into a sinful moan. “Dirtier.” You finish your thought with one hand cradling his head to your tits encouragingly and the other fisting his shirt blindly to follow the trail of his torso down to the pronounced bulge in his pants.

"You are dirty." He groans, pulling off your tit with a pop and then biting it playfully before he nips the other. "Gonna fuck you like the dirty fucking girl you are right here."

“It’s a good thing you got my pussy nice and wet, then.” With one hand wrapped around the thick length protruding from his pants, your other starts working open his belt. “It’ll be nice and easy to slide that big cock in right away.”

He smirks and stands straight while you pull open his pants and groans when his cock is your hot hands. "Fuck." He hisses, twitching when your thumb presses against the tip. "I'm gonna be balls deep and die happy." He jokes.

"You mean you're not a real undead bad boy?" Putting on a pout of faux disappointment keeps you from laughing, knowing that he knows all about Evan's Max is a vampire crusade. The very last thing you're about to do when you have his thick length throbbing in your hand is laugh. "Darn."

He doesn't even answer you, just thrusts into your grip. "Line me up, Pussy Cat." He hums. "I'm gonna make you cum like this then I'm going to turn you over so I can watch your ass bounce."

"Promises, promises," you tease, not that you have any doubt he can do it. He's not even out of breath while you're a panting and whimpering mess. You don't hesitate to do as he tells you, though, leaning back a little to let your legs fall open wide so that you can position the blunt head of his cock at the entrance of your dripping pussy.

"Fuck, look at that pretty little pussy cat." He smirks and watches you while he breeches your entrance and starts filling you steadily, inch by inch.

He feels thicker splitting you open than he did in your hand, and your head drops back when you let out a deep groan of pleasure. Max doesn’t stop until he’s fully bottomed out inside you and you don’t want him to - making lascivious noises of approval with every inch until his hips are flush against yours and then you’re diving back in for more kisses. Wrapping your arms around his neck keeps him close but you grind your hips down against his and whimper happily. “Fuck me, baby. Come on. Need you.”

Max snarls slightly, his grip turning bruising for a split second before he relaxes and grins at you. "I can do that, sweetheart." He growls. "Guaranteed." Pulling his hips back, he snaps them forward harshly.

“Yes!” The force of the thrust pushes you back on the counter and you keep your arms around Max, sinking your teeth playfully into his neck for a moment because he seemed to have liked you using your teeth earlier. “Just like that.”

"Fuck." His dick twitches deep inside you and his own fangs spring out of his gums. He doesn't bite you though. Not wanting to change you right now, so he just keeps his head over your shoulder so you don't see his slightly feral expression. His hips rock faster after you bite him, ready to give you what you want.

It’s fierce and needy after that. Rough in all the right ways, like you hadn’t been the only one secretly pining in the office ever since Max joined the company earlier in the year. Or, if not pining, you definitely weren’t the only one with filthy thoughts about the other. Every once in a while his grip tightens to near bruising and you moan every time, loving the harshness of a little pain with your pleasure. You’ve always been that way and know for a fact that Evan is gentler than a basket of fluffy kittens, which is one of the reasons you just never had any interest in your roommate. But this? This is your kind of fucking - dirty and delicious.

Groans pour out of his mouth, not because he's winded or anything human, but because you are fucking perfect. Taking his pace, his eagerness and wanting more. He can feel the way that you get even wetter when he forgets not to crush you for a second. Loses control slightly. It's intoxicating and your blood – fuck, it's like ambrosia right under the skin.

There’s no chance that people haven’t figured out what’s going on in here - from the locked door to your combined sounds to the harsh slap of skin on damp skin. Max’s cock is battering your pussy in the very best way and you hope like hell that you’ll be as sore as you think you will tomorrow. The idea of carrying that with you for a few days sounds perfect, especially if this is only going to be a one-time thing. Just a perfect little capsule of a memory of that one time you got railed in a hotel bathroom. Even that thought makes you gasp out in pleasure, legs tightening around his waist as you can feel the familiar twist of orgasm in your belly building up again.

“You gonna cum?” Max asks, smirking at you as he keeps drilling into you over and over again. He knows you are close, that fluttering little pussy of yours is about to explode and soak him. “Yeah, you are.” He huffs smugly. “Do it, Pussy Cat.”

You barely have it in you to be sassy in the moment, just rambling whatever pops into your head, and your fingers are digging into his leather covered shoulders with a tight pressure that doesn’t seem to phase him in the least. You turn your head to drag your teeth along the juncture of his long neck to egg him on. “So good,” you whine breathlessly, sucking hot marks into his skin with enthusiasm. “So fucking good, Max — fuck I’m gonna cum so hard.”

Max feels his face start to change, growling harshly and planting his face in your neck while he ramps up his pace to just beyond what is humanly possible. Wanting to feel it and hear you scream. “Do it.”

It takes mere seconds more, and you’re clinging to him when you feel the rush of overheated blood become an equally overheated flood from your cunt that drenches his cock with an unbelievable amount of cum. It’s so intense that your whole body locks up, turning your scream of his name into a strangled wail as you fall apart.

Hissing, Max doesn’t fuck you through it, instead he’s pulling out of you and manhandling you like a rag doll. Flipping you over and letting you fall forward while he pulls your cheeks apart and sinks back into your cunt with a victorious hum when your walls are still pulsing.

“Goddamn—fuuuck Max!” The strangled sob is punctuated by his name when he spears his cock back into you completely, burying his length to the hilt and extending the end of your orgasm so that your body shakes again in ecstasy as you try to grasp at anything on the counter so you don’t end up face down in a sink. You had no idea he was this strong - making you feel like a rag doll in his arm as he finds his rhythm again.

Now he’s grinning, watching his cock spear into you and make your ass bounce. His hands grip your hips as he rails into you. “Do it again.” He growls, wanting to feel you cum again. It’s a point of pride and he’s loving how you take it.

You’re about to gasp out a joke about how you’re gonna need a little more time before you can cum again when you lift your head to find his eyes in the mirror — and can’t find his face at all. The reflection of his clothing is clear as day: duster and shirt and torn open pants Moving behind you in rhythm with the merciless way he’s fucking you and fingerless gloves gripping tight to your hips as you find your own reflection unblemished in the large bathroom mirror. But Max? Max is as transparent as a summer breeze, only affecting the things he touches as you see his grip tighten on your flesh by the way the indents there deepen. You can feel it, and you can see the result, but you can’t see him.

“Holy shit…” With your eyes blown wide and the vision of your number one top fantasy right in front of you, another orgasm tears through you almost instantly. That years old pornographic dream of getting fucked by a vampire after getting through watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer is now so real that it’s turning your blood into wildfire and you can’t believe the way you moan as you shake and drench his cock all over again.

It’s your reaction that makes him slip up, the instant orgasm when you realize you don’t see his reflection. His fangs were grazing over your throat and when you clench down around him, he cuts you. Groaning when the coppery tang of your blood hits his tongue. Making him growl and start sucking sloppily while he fucks into you like the supernatural monster that he is.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” At this point you feel like your body might just tense up and be in a constant state of cumming for the rest of the time he’s fucking you. The sight of the light trickle of blood welling up on your neck only to be licked away by an invisible tongue seconds later makes you gasp and keen, and the instant realization that your vampire fantasy is now a vampire fetish just makes the whole thing better. For now the only downside is that he’s fucking you so hard that you can’t catch your breath to babble at him about how amazing it feels.

There’s a beauty to not being seen, not having his reflection in the mirror. You can’t see that his face has completely morphed. Turned into the more gruesome visage of his being. Brow heavy and eyes yellow tinged with red, Max snarls when he feels his body lock up, driving impossibly deep into your hot cunt and making a nearly demonic noise as he fills you with ropes of his impotent seed.

“Max!” Only his name falls from your tongue as he buries himself as deeply as possible in your body and follows you down the rabbit hole of pleasure. You feel boneless and wrecked and absolutely ecstatic in ways you can’t quite describe as you pant for air, crushed underneath his weight on the cold marble countertop.

He doesn’t need to recover or catch his breath. He could pull out of you right now and be perfectly fine, save for his face still being a twisted visage of the image he normally presented. Still he leans over you, savoring the feeling of your cunt fluttering and your thighs shaking. “Pussy Cat has a secret.” He teases playfully, his tongue lapping up one last drop of your blood before he bites his lip and lets a drop of his blood heal your wound as if it never happened.

“A fucking convenient one.” Still mostly breathless, you twist under him to be able to see his face. The ridges and bumps of his transformation draw your eyes across them as you take it all in, fascinated rather than terrified with his cock still buried inside you. Your eyelids flutter a little, that flash of pure attraction undeniable in your veins. The same ones he just drank from. “You’re actually a vampire?”

“Shocker.” Max makes his face smooth back out, his now brown eyes wide and his lips twisted into a grin. “Evan is actually right about something.” He chuckles and opens his mouth so his fangs descend again to show you.

“Fuck.” It’s all excitement and wonderment on your part and you can’t deny it at all. “That’s…so fucking sexy,” you admit with a self-conscious giggle.

“Knew I liked you.” He teases, slapping your ass playfully as he leans back to let you straighten up. “Least you don’t have to worry about an accident with me.”

“Thank god.” When you stand up again it’s like a miniature flood from your pussy and you laugh again. “Because you cum like a fucking Super Soaker.” It’s nothing a couple of paper towels can’t clean up, but it’s fun to tease.

“Is there any other way?” Max asks as he uses another sink to clean up and hands you the shorts you had worn. Your panties slide into his pocket with a mischievous wink to you.

“Pathetic dribbles, usually.” You’ve never been dishonest with yourself about why you’re single, knowing that you like a rougher and more physically demanding sex life and that balancing that with a man who isn’t also an absolute jackass or abusive in some way isn’t easy. It’s why you embraced the ‘Cat’ jokes. Better a cat lady than miserable or bored, at least in your book. “Don’t worry,” you murmur, offering him a smile as you slip on your shorts. “I won’t tell.”

It’s surprisingly nice to hear you say that. No fear or worry in your voice, just confidence that he can trust you to keep a secret. The only other people in the office who knew are the ones he’s already changed. And Evan’s stupid ass, but no one believes him. “Let me feed you more than lame ass Halloween cocktails and canapés tomorrow.” He says suddenly. “Before I fuck you to death again.”

“I—what?” Having reached down to pick your t-shirt and bra up off the floor, you straighten up and look at him quizzically. Not because you’re not interested, obviously, but just because you’re surprised. “Are you asking me out?”

“I mean— I guess—uh, yeah.” He frowns slightly as if he’s just worked out that is what he’s actually doing. “Unless you have a strict ‘fuck but not date your boss’ policy?” He jokes, trying to cover up the slight nervous fear that you might turn him down. That you just wanted a quick bang in the bathroom.

“Not at all.” It’s almost a pity to get dressed, but he’s already cleaned up and tucked himself away, so you clip your bra on again easily. “Actually I’ve never fucked or dated my boss before at all, so this is new territory for me.” You pull your t-shirt over your head and adjust, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Seven o’clock tomorrow? You know where I live.”

“Yeah.” Max nods, checking his clothes in the mirror and then looking back at you. “Got some blood on your shirt, Pussy Cat.”

“Call it a souvenir.” A memento, you think with a grin. Throwing him a wink, you lean in to kiss him one more time before moving back toward the door. “See you out there?” It’s an effort to not come across as clingy, that you are so overly nonchalant. Because in reality you want to prance out there on his arm and proudly dare anyone to give you shit about disappearing to fuck.

Evan pounces on you as soon as you appear out of the hallway leading to the bathrooms. “Tell me you didn’t.” He practically hisses.

“Didn’t what?” You ask, feigning innocence. Of course he was going to get nasty about this. It’s not like it’s a secret that he hates Max.

“Come on, we need to go.” Evan is nearly panicking, seeing the spot of blood on your shirt. “We’re leaving.”

“Oh my god you’re so overprotective.” Overprotective and with an annoyingly tight grip as he steers you toward the other end of the ballroom with determination. You barely have a chance to glance back, catching a glimpse of Max right before even drags you out the door. You might have even liked the little bit of manhandling if you hadn’t just been fucked within an inch of your life by a vampire.

Max chuckles to himself as he sees you pull a harsh frown at your roommate. Tomorrow is going to be fun. He hopes like hell you don’t tell Evan about your date.

******

You oversleep like hell the next day, worn out but feeling energized all the same. The ache in your thighs is so gorgeously satisfying and you sit in the living room in your pjs with a book until it’s time to shower and get ready for your date. Evan has been out doing god knows what all day with Tim so you haven’t had to avoid more arguing like the night before. It got bad enough that you have nearly threatened to move out if he tried to keep telling you what to do. By the time Evan comes home, you’re showered and dressed and finishing your makeup, just watching the clock tick down in anticipation.

“Where are you going?” The mournful eyes he gives you can’t hide being bitterly upset. He doesn’t know why you don’t believe him. He’s only got your best interests at heart, maybe a little selfish on his part, but that was to be expected.

“Out.” This time you don’t mean to be evasive, you just really don’t know where Max is taking you. “Dinner, I think. Did you have a good day?” Despite being pissed at him for presuming to tell you how to live your life, he’s still your friend.

“No.” Evan shakes his head. “I don’t want you to be mad at me, but Max is dangerous.” He stresses, imploring you to understand.

“Ev, I really don’t want to fight with you, but you need to drop it.” Pinching your eyes shut doesn’t banish the tinge of a headache that you can feel forming from the topic, and you turn to check your reflection in the mirror one more time - eventually biting back a grin when you remember looking up to see no reflection at all behind you last night. “I know you don’t like him,” you tell Evan. “But you are also very biased against him by your own admission.”

He sighs sulkily. “Want me to go with you?” He offers, wanting to find out where you are going. You’re mad at him and it’s not something he likes, but he hates you being so blasé about Max. “Maybe we could go to that bar around the corner.”

The lobby buzzer sounds from the wall panel in your kitchen at the same moment you turn and frown at your roommate. “Do I want you to come on my date with me? Come on, Evan. No. That’s both weird and honestly a little rude. Especially when I haven’t even told you who it’s with.” He’ll find out in a second, but you go over and hit the buzzer to let him into the lobby so he can come upstairs. Evan’s going to have to get over it eventually.

“You’re going on a date?” If possible, he looks even more remorseful, but he shakes his head. “I didn’t— it’s not Max, is it?”

“What if it was?” You pick up your jacket from the hook by the door and double check your pockets for your wallet, phone, and keys. “I couldn’t tell you, could I?” It just makes you shake your head, honestly a little heart sore over the whole thing. “I can’t be excited that the guy I’ve liked for ages finally asked me out because my roommate is on a righteous crusade against him.”

“It’s not a crusade!” Evan insists, reaching out for your hand. “I d-don’t want to see anything happen to you.” He doesn’t want you dating anyone but he really doesn’t want you dating Max. The idea that you have a crush on him hurts, considering you know what he did to him.

“Ev…” You sigh, turning to face him even as you hear footsteps approaching your door. “I swear, if he hurts me or doesn’t treat me right, or does anything that I don’t like, I will dump his ass faster than lightning.” Even so, the rhythmic knock on the door makes you grin, eager to see Max again after just a day.

It’s important that you qualify that you don’t like talking about Max hurting you or being disrespectful, because there are definitely kinds of ‘hurt’ that you enjoy more than most. “And I’m not asking you to suddenly be best friends with him or even spend time around him outside of work. I’m just…I really like him. And I want to see where this goes.”

Was what happened between them in college shitty? Of course. But that lies as much on Evan’s shitty girlfriend’s shoulders as anyone else in your opinion, and you squeeze his hand before going to open the door for Max.

“Hey Pussy Cat!” Max grins, wearing jeans and a leather motorcycle jacket. He peels off his sunglasses as he looks you up and down with a very pleased expression and then offers the flowers he had brought. Flowers for dates were a must. Especially after the way he fucked you. “You look good enough to eat!”

“Don’t be mean,” you chide him, knowing his hearing is good enough that he definitely just heard you defend him to Evan. The flowers he has brought are stunning - deep reds and purples dotted with blues. “Do you want to come in while I put these in water? They’re beautiful.”

“Are you inviting me in?” He waggles his brows playfully and Evan nearly turns purple.

“SEE? He has to be invited in! Only vampires do that!” Evan’s voice nearly reaches the soprano range, it’s gone up so many octaves.

Max chuckles and steps into the entryway of your apartment. “Actually pal…that’s the same for demons, goblins and warlocks. Witches get a free pass for some reason.”

“Witches are still human.” Is the explanation you offer, figuring that playing along with the game is the way to be the least conspicuous. “Do you two need to be separated while I put these in my room or can you be in the same room without killing each other?” It’s kind of an honest question, all things considered, but you raise an eyebrow at Max asking him to behave as you grab your vase from the kitchen counter.

“I’m always a team player.” Max reminds you innocently, even fluttering his lashes at you. He’s not physically hurt Evan since punching him in the nose after he had been a little shit and lied to get him expelled and academically shunned from every fucking college but the one where he was turned into a vampire. “Ev and I will be fine, won’t we?” He throws his arm around Evan’s shoulder and squeezes him close as he grins at him, enjoying the other man’s discomfort.

“Be nice, please.” Is your one request, made to both of them, before you disappear to deposit the beautiful buds in the vase that will sit on your bedside table.

“Get off of me.” Evan hisses, shrugging out from Max’s arm and turning on him. “If you hurt her…” He trails off to seem more threatening and Max shoots him a grin.

“Buddy… pal…” He coos. “Don’t worry. It’s gonna be fine. Just…” He winks at Evan. “Make sure you have some good headphones tonight.”

You can hear them as you disappear down the hall and allow yourself to grin, shaking your head at the way Max doesn’t even pretend to assure Evan you won’t get hurt. Because there is no way your friend could wrap his head around the fact that having Max’s fangs cut into your skin was half of what made you cum so hard last night. Pain and pleasure mixed – and the promise of more – make you shiver with anticipation as you quickly drop the vase of flowers beside your bed.

Maybe you’ll ask Max to go back to his place, though, just so you don’t rub it in. Because you are definitely going to make some noise tonight. Your throbbing pussy insists on it.

______

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[humiliatingsluts2]

soooo it's super past my bedtime an I have to wake up like super early to go to work (not excited for whatsoever) but while my brain is on money an findom stuff, if you totally wanted to try that and like force a budget on me that would possibly be appreciated 😭😭)

anyways I feel as though I ought to share my most recent experience of being f**ked (swearing ban :P) like a whore!!

so I met with my fwb in a hotel in my town, I was super nervous for unknown reasons seeing as though this was the second time we'd met up! I was having anxiety but also felt a lil bold and wrote "dads holes" on me as a surprise. we kissed first of all before we stripped and I got on my knees to worship his cock (I love sucking cock so much more these days) buuttt it wasn't long before he got me to rim him. I have never rimmed anyone before and it felt so gross to be rinming a man 20 yearsoldr than mee after a while and after getting covered in so much spit. at one point there was a string connecting my mouth to hilimmm an it was so grosss😵‍💫😵‍💫

he finally saw the writing on me as I begged him to f**k me and oh it always stings going in the first time but it feels so good. I like the sting :P we went like that for a good few minutes, him holding my legs with one hand and choking me with the other. he pulled out and still choking me tried to work a big toy into my drippy pussy but it just hurt so much :(so he flipped me over and spanked with his thick leather belt (I have the cutest bruises now P) he continued that and but stopped briefly to work a plug into my ass before spanking me again and sting of the belt and the fullness of my ass made my pussy leak so much but then he worked another toy into my hole a felt so full an I felt my brain drip out as he pulled the plug and began trying to f**k my ass. I couldn't take it properly(I'm no lola:P), I was so tight and i couldn't think straight he pulled out put the plug back in put a collar on me and f****d my pussy a lil longer and I was so overwhelmed I didn't realise I was cumming until I felt it all rush and I squirted everywhereeee. he pulled out once more and tried my ass again. he was able to get it in and u f****d myself with the toy, I cried about it hurting and he continued and told me to take it. to take it like a good whore and it felt soo good. it hurt but was so good

he pulled out finally and made my suck gis balls until he came all over my face. it felt so good an 😵‍💫😵‍💫 to be used like that. to be spat on and covered in cum!!!? it’s just sooo abhhhh i’m so happy to be able to experience ittt!!!! and now I got a few plugs to play with!!?! it’s ahggggghhj?!!!!!😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

~🔔

((apologies for the lonbggg abd rambly mess!!!!!h))

I love this slutty confession, you sound like you've had an amazing night. Well done for rimming and starting to practise some anal. This got stuck in my drafts so it’s a little old now, but hasn’t 🔔 done well?

[subby9411]

Just like old times.

Tonight I am finally seeing sir since I left wearing the black keds. I’m expecting a punishment tonight but we will see how sir is feeling.

I am wearing a black short sleeve shirt with blue Jean shorts and my white canvas keds. My hair is ombré long and straightened. I only have on eyeliner and mascara. My body is thick and tan. I’m wearing Valentino perfume.

As I pull up to his house I am feeling a little anxious but mostly intrigued and excited. I walk to the sliding glass doors and sit my purse next to my feet. I put my hands on my head facing away from the doors and wait for sir to come.

“Pick up your purse and walk backwards inside” he orders.

“Yes sir”

When I get inside with my hands on my head again he cuffs me behind my back tightly. Then he turns me around and walks me to the room. It looks a lot different because it is empty with just a small stump which looks like a leather seat.

“Walk over to there facing the wall” he says as he guides my shoulders.

When I walk over to the wall he unbuttons my shorts and takes my panties and shorts off.

“Lift this foot, now lift this one” he directs me.

Then he walks away and I hear him put gloves on. He walks back towards me and that is when I am ordered to lean towards the wall bending over and spreading my legs. I do as I’m told and he begins to lube my ass. I didn’t think he’d go for the butt plug so soon, I was expecting a little reflection time first.

He insterts a medium buttplug and pushes it so fast into my ass, I lose all the air in my body and feel like I might faint. Sir gets me water to keep me hydrated. Then he puts gloves on again and starts to rub my pussy. He pulls up my shirt and puts nipple clamps on me, then he pulls my shirt down. Then he guides me over to the stump.

“Kneel down and lay on the seat” he orders.

“Now spread your legs while you’re kneeling so you can get fucked” he orders.

I hear him rustling around as I’m still processing the buttplug in my ass. My white keds are still on. And I can feel the nipple clamps pressing into my boobs as I lay on them.

“I suggest you start loosening up” he says as he starts putting the large sized dildo attached to the fuck machine in my pussy.

The fuck machine starts off slow while the buttplug is still in me… I feel a lot of pressure and I’m trying my best to relax.

“Push your ass into it like you want it” he says.

Eventually I relax and start to enjoy it while he controls the speed from slow to fast.

“You better not cum unless I say so and you better not move either do you understand!”

“Yes sir”

After a minute he says to me “do you feel like you have to cum?”

“Yes sir”

It feels so good, I wish he’d grab the vibrator and put it on my clit at the same time. He is watching me while I’m being “fucked”. I am turned on. I can feel my ass bouncing a little bit which helps it feel more satisfying.

“Can I please cum sir”

“You may” he says as he slows down the speed.

“Next time I tell you to come here you’re going to listen aren’t you?” … “yes sir”.

“You like getting fucked?” … “Yes sir”.

Eventually after I cum one more time he removes the fuck machine… then he slowly removes the buttplug as he tells me to relax. He walks away for a moment and then he comes back and wipes me off.

I wish he’d do the fuck machine without the buttplug. I actually enjoyed it.

“Stand up” he says as he helps me because I’m cuffed behind my back. He adds a second pair of handcuffs on my wrists. And shackles around my ankles at medium tightness.

He walks me to sit by the sliding doors so he can smoke a cigarette. His hair is spiked up and he is wearing a tshirt and basketball shorts. I’ve told him before I have a fetish for a guy wearing basketball shorts with running shoes without socks. It’s just that i don’t care vibes and it’s so hot.

When he’s done smoking, he walks back over and has me stand up and walk over to the wall. He grabs me by my hair and says to me

“Next time you’re going to come when I ask you to?”..”yes sir”

I can feel his entire aura surrounding me as his deep sexy voice fills my ears. His voice alone sends goosebumps through my body. I can feel my breathing getting heavy.

He walks around to stand infront of me and stairs me in the eyes. I always get lost when he looks at me. I forget everything I’m doing or have going on. He lifts up my shirt to see the nipple clamps as he plays with them. My nipples are stinging because they are sensitive.

He smacks at my boobs a couple times as I wince. “Why are you pulling away from me?” ... “it hurts sir”

“You like having little sensitive nipples?” … “yes sir”.

He tightens the shackles and then he says to me “you said you’d come last time and I haven’t seen you in months”

“I’m sorry sir”

“So what does that mean?”

“I lied to you sir”

“And what does that mean?”

“I get punished sir”

“What should your punishment be?”

“Whatever you want sir”

He tightens the shackles!

“Please sir!”

He stops in his tracks.

“What time do you want me to report next time sir?”

“Are you going to come or do I have to beg you?”

“I will come sir!”

“Be lucky I’m so lenient because next time I won’t be”… “yes sir”.

He eventually takes the shackles off and uncuffs me and hands me my clothes to get dressed. “After you get dressed stand with your hands on your head.”… “Yes sir”.

He cuffs me behind my back again and walks me to the door.

“I will give you instructions on when to report again” …“yes sir”.

“Are these black keds for me?”… “yes sir”

I brought the black keds back and they were sitting on the top inside my purse.

“I will tell you when you can leave watch your phone” he says as he opens the door after uncuffing me and handing me my purse.

After he texts me I quickly leave and head for my car. I actually loved today. It didn’t feel like so much pressure or anxiety. Just relaxing and a little more enjoyable than the last few recent times.

[agoraphobe]

looks i will always love: peter pan collars, denim skater skirts, floral sundresses with leather jackets and combat boots, tights under denim shorts, cropped cardigans and cropped pullover sweaters, chunky knits, balloon sleeved sweaters, sundresses with white air force 1s or white keds, button up shirts tied in the front, oversized denim jackets (+ with black leggings), classic authentic vans, thigh high socks layered over sheer tights, oversized flannel shirts worn over band tees, high waists, big hoop earrings, opaque tights in primary colors

[merv606]

Just Terry fucking and filling Danny up so good that the next morning when Terry wants to take him again, he finds that his boy’s pretty hole is still full of, and dripping, Terry’s cum. This turns Terry on so much that he overstuffs Daniel again, fucking out more cum than he fucks it in, making his hole drip, and leaving his slender thighs completely coated on the insides. Fuck, he can’t get enough of his sweet boy.

Ah yes, f$&ked open, thoroughly debauched and used Daniel - A theme that runs in many of my works.

I was reading up on cocaine and sex drive - yet another illustrious first for my Google search - and it got me thinking in regards to this ask.

So imagine it’s a night where Terry is high, which means sex marathon / he’s more insatiable for his boy than normal (which is saying something), staying inside Daniel, hard, even him after he’s come.

And Daniel knew this was coming (no pun intended) he knows what that look in Terry’s eyes means.

It’s to the point where Daniel has a Pavlovian response when he sees Terry do a line - says a quick pray for his ass before Terry has him bent over, stuffing him full, so frantic, hard and perfect that Daniel can feel it in his throat.

Maybe he also indulges in the more filthy aspects - getting his mouth on Daniel’s ass after he’s come inside it the was the first time he took Daniel while high.

Terry is always vocal, giving out praise and poison in equal measure, depending on his mood, but he’s always oddly eloquent about it, but nights like this, he’s extra crude.

“As much as I love your ass when it’s nice and tight for me, I think I like it just as much like this - sloppy and loose.”

Spreads his ass, swiping his finger through the mess just to hook two in, clever and vicious as he twists them right into Daniel’s over sensitive spot.

Arousal shots through Terry at the fact that there’s no resistance - from Daniel or his ass as his fingers slide into the fucked open body.

Pliant and sweet - temporary fucked into submission.

“You look so goddamn used right now.”

“I should get you in my lap, in front of the mirror and show you how open your cunt is.”

“I don’t even think you can close that pretty little hole can you?”

“One look and anyone could tell how good you got it.”

“You’re a mess babe but you’ll still spread your legs for me won’t you?! Cock slut that you are.”

“Pretty face and cunt - this is how you pay your bills - why I pay your bills.”

He spits into his hole then - not that Daniel needs it - he’s wet enough, wide enough, and Terry is four fingers deep now.

He comes, weakly at best, his cock giving a lifeless twitch, a small dribble of clear liquid leaking out.

When Terry pulls out with a demeaning squelch, dragging his fingers against the soft walls, Daniel just manages to close his legs.

Not like it will defer Terry - if anything it just spurs him on more.

He gets off the bed, giving his cock a few tugs as he takes another snort, coming back to the bed, head tossed back.

He stands over Daniel’s prone body, taking in his handiwork.

The bed is a mess - the silk sheets probably can’t be saved. Not like he’d take his boy on anything but the best mind you - he needs it to be smooth against Daniel’s beautiful smooth skin when he’s moving up and down the bed with the force of their fucking - besides only Terry’s hands get to mark all that perfect flesh after all.

Terry puts his hands on his boy’s inner thighs, hand almost completely able to close around it, slippery with lube sweat and cum, and god knows what else, wrenching them open.

His boy is so tired but Terry isn’t done, the high of the line he did is a long ways off wearing off.

Daniel drifts in and out of consciousness, as Terry continues taking his pleasure from Daniel’s limp yet more than willing body.

When they finally come to, Terry before Daniel, it’s well into the late morning, early afternoon.

Terry is spooning him, ass nestled between his cheeks.

He rolls Daniel into his stomach, spreading his cheeks, Daniel protesting in sleep, hole clenching as his finger tracing over it. Terry swears he sees some cum dribble out each time he tightens.

“Shhh,” Terry soothes, Daniel rubbing his face into the mattress further, quieting.

It’s puffy and red, clearly still a bit fucked open, but he vaguely remembers rousing Daniel to swallow some Advil and remembers smearing some cream on it before crashing himself.

There’s no real damage and he must be sore but Terry continues tracing the rim, his ass keeps clenching on each pass, practically asking for it again. Terry knows what his boy is good for - knows what he can take.

Terry wraps a hand around his own cock - maybe he’ll be lenient and just come on it but when Daniel shifts his hips back, silently asking for Terry to press them in, Terry knows it’ll be inside Daniel’s ass he’ll be painting white.

Fingers slide in, like butter through a hot knife, warm wet and willing.

He grabs the lube, coating his cock, before pouring it directly into Daniel’s ass. Gently rolling him to his side, he doesn’t want him to wake just yet, pressing himself inside, slowly, inch by inch opening his back up.

Daniel moans so softly with each inch he’s given.

“So sweet for me,” Terry murmurs, burning his face into Daniel’s neck, teasing the sweat there.

As good as having Daniel while coked up is, Terry loves it like this too - loves his boy and all the ways he can have him.

He keeps the thrusts slow and steady, measured and controlled, but it doesn’t take long before the siren song of Daniel’s body overpowers his senses.

Daniel wakes like that, Terry behind him, moving sure and steady inside him,

“Good morning sweetheart,” he says, one last thrust, as his hand digs into his hip, keeping him in place so Terry shoots deep and true.

He’s half hard himself but he doesn’t even have it to wrap a hand around himself.

His body is sore and his ass aches, a sign of how well he was used. A feeling he has come to equate with love.

It’s the price for this kind of love, one Daniel pays and he willing does, every time.

Terry pulls out slowly and Daniel wrinkles his nose - he’ll be walking gingerly and sitting might be out, but when Terry gathers him in his arms, fingers carding through his hair, pressing kisses into his back and neck, soft praise in his ear, Daniel drifts back to sleep, feeling used and loved, powerful and wanted; feeling it all.