Craziest Beatle Interview Ive Ever Read (playboy)

here’s some of my stuffed animals as the evan’s

we don’t talk abt kyle’s

“He was charismatic, magnetic, electric and everybody knew it. When he walked in every woman’s head turned, everyone stood up to talk to him. He was like this hybrid, this mix of a man who couldn’t contain himself. I always got the sense that he became torn between being a good person and missing out on all of the opportunities that life could offer a man as magnificent as him. And in that way, I understood him and I loved him.”

its so sad how many people are dropping like flies in the evan/ahs fandom

"can I DM you?" babe we're mutuals, we can touch tongues if you want

<-.poser boy.->

~WARNINGS~ male orgasm, teasing, nipple play, slight angst, handjob (m receiving), dryhumping

DNI UNDER 16

“Mmm…”

If there was one good thing about being dead, it was the fellow ghosts. Half of you regretted trodding to the abandoned mansion at the end of the street, where you ended up being stabbed to death and robbed by who would have been a potential weed dealer. But the other half…damn. Sometimes being dead was not all bad.

When you first met Tate Langdon, you assumed the worst. After all, he was some wannabe Columbine-copycat, some masochist attention-seeker who sat in his room all day and listened to poser bands like Nirvana. You were more than that, weren’t you? He was just some edgy teen. Well, so you thought.

But now here you were, sitting on his bed with your lips mashed against his. His soft tongue kept poking out tenderly, swooning your lips into opening just enough so he could press his tongue’s tip against yours. He let out a soft whine before tugging you closer.

You kept your eyes shut as he pulled your shirt over your head, still too embarrassed to make eye contact with the boy you convinced yourself you hated. As he kitten-licked your chest, you tried to let your mind wander to think of anything but the poser boy grabbing your waist. But you couldn’t. Instead all you could do was grab his hair by the roots and squeeze your eyes shut as he drew perfect little circles around your hard nipples with the tip of his tongue.

“Fuck yes…”

Damn, he was vocal, and that made it all the worse. It was hard to pretend it wasn’t him when he was humping your thigh and moaning into your skin. You felt his throbbing erection against you and you laid there quietly, not knowing how to respond. You died without your first kiss, but God forbid you let Tate know that. And to know he somehow craved you this badly, it was more of an ego boost than anything. That was, if you ignored the ache nestled under your hips. But that had to be unrelated, right? You couldn’t be horny for the loser lapping at your chest.

You watched blankly he hastily tugged his dick out of his pants and gave it two quick strokes to help ease the aching. Precum was dripping in little clear beads from the tip, and out of sheer boredom (as you tried to convince yourself) you began to rub your thumb softly on the swollen tip. He let out a loud whine and buried his face in your neck.

“Please…please…I needa cum…”

How fucking pathetic. And yet, you were tugging softly at his throbbing cock, wondering wistfully how he would feel tucked deep inside you. He let out another loud moan as he clawed at your waistband, feeling your arousal through your pants. It felt good. So good.

“C’here.”

You whispered as you let your legs fall apart. He immediately nodded with understanding and began rubbing his tenderness against your crotch. With each hump, his eyes rolled back into his head. You almost did not notice that now you weren’t just making out with him with your eyes open, but you were checking him out. Pools of precum from his leaking cock covered the front of your jeans as he mumbled and moaned into your shoulder. With a soft yank you tugged his shirt off, and began rolling his nipples over your thumb as he whimpered into your skin.

A couple more rough humps, and you felt a spurt of warmth against your crotch. But this time you forgot to hold back your moans, and he looked up with soft surprise at the idea you might have just enjoyed this. His cheeks were tinged red and he pressed a soft kiss to your jaw as he rode his orgasm out on your thigh. Your jeans were covered in his warm cum, but somehow you didn’t care.

After the bliss passed, he opened his eyes and his lips curved into a smirk.

“You gotta let me have more.”

The fucking pervert. But somehow you still found yourself tugging your jeans down. So much for pretending.

Luke Cooper, The Office: s7 ep1

And I love him

two sides of tumblr girlies

rafe pushing your head and you throw up on it

going to start by saying, if you are not into this stuff, DONT READ IT!! I do not need anons getting pissy and clogging my inbox just cause you hated it. block the tag if this isn’t your shit! and also I’d like to say that I personally am not into vomit as in the actual act of vomiting (I’m just into the power play and humiliation / more sexual aspect of it) so if you’re reading this for that purpose please don’t expect me to respond to your interactions. okay, boundaries set, lemme write some freaky shit.

also fair credit to @shellxrls for talking about this on her blog and hence giving me the courage to post this

Rafe is mad, real mad. you’re not even sure why, something to do with his business that he doesn’t tell you about.

you’d offered to let him blow off some steam, and he took it. so now you’re kneeling below him, having your throat fucked mercilessly.

you’re used to gagging on him, sure, but this is different. you can feel the back of your throat bruising as he keeps up his mean pace.

you can feel it building, the thickness rising in your throat that can’t be pushed down. you cough and choke around him as you try to push him off, desperate to pull away before you humiliate yourself.

of course Rafe isn’t going to let that happen, and so he pushes your head down further. he hadn’t gone amiss to the visceral sounds coming from your throat. he knows as well as you what’s about to happen.

“shit baby— you ‘boutta puke on my cock? dirty fuckin’ girl.” he seethes the words out through gritted teeth, his fist tightening in your hair nearly painfully.

you gag again, desperately trying to hold back, but it does nothing, and you can’t help it. you cry and Rafe moans and the whole thing is an absolute mess.

you feel hot ropes of cum shoot down your throat, doing your best to swallow but of course you fail. the moment he lets you, you pull away, coughing and sputtering onto the mess that’s pooled in front of you.

“Rafe-” you clutch your stomach, still fighting to get enough air in your lungs. he kneels down to your level, lifting your chin up so you can look at him.

“are you good?” he raises his eyebrows, one hand resting on your shoulder. you nod, trying to wipe the tears away from your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your mouth the best you can with the back of your hand “are you mad?”

he chuckles, “nah- nah that was uhh- I’m not gonna lie to you babe that was actually hot as fuck.”

“really?” you perk up slightly, because honestly, you agree, that was hot as fuck. Rafe nods, smirking again. “why don’t you go get cleaned up n’ then you can come bounce on my dick. let you get your fill, ‘kay?”

ponyboy found dead at platos closet