black-tank-dress

Quadruple Cross

This story is not a fantasy from one of my Tumblr followers. This is a story with all fictional characters and is a story about betrayal and backstabbing. I think every slave in this story will get their just rewards.

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Trixi awoke one morning in suspension bondage. Her wrists were in leather restraints tethered to a spreader bar attached to the ceiling. Her ankles likewise and her waist also had a leather strap also attached to the ceiling. She was lying in a horizontal position her back to the floor. She was wearing a head harness ball gag. She was naked save for a pair of open toed stripper heels. She clearly felt like a piece of meat.

Just the night before, she had been working at a gentleman’s club in Philadelphia, where she was a dancer and a stripper. She was 19, long strawberry blonde hair, 5'5", 110 lbs with nice titties and a nice ass, nice curves She was a real dick tease. On a good night, she go home with $2000 mostly in tips. She would dance naked and get guys worked up. But they could never touch her. Some customers would pay $100-200 to take her to the back room for a lap dance. Again Trixi would get the men worked up but they could never touch her. Not even in non private areas. Trixi had these men by the balls. And they would go home with blue balls.

One night, 2 men named Jason and Matt were at the club. They decided they wanted a lap dance. Trixi danced for them for about a half hour. Then she needed a break. Matt offered to buy her a drink which Trixi accepted. Matt bought her a sex on the beach. What Trixi didn’t know is that Matt spiked her drink with ghb, commonly referred to as a date rape drug.

After enjoying her drink for a couple minutes, she resumed dancing. After about 5 minutes, Trixi started feeling a little headed.

“Ooh, I gotta sit down. I don’t know if something was in that drink.”

“Mmmmm, might be” replied Jason

At that point, Trixi was still in a bra with thong panties and her stripper heels. Finally, after a couple minutes, Trixi passed out. Fortunately for Matt and Jason, the room was close to the back entrance and the two men dragged Trixi to their SUV and put her in the back. They then drove her to Mistress Samantha’s lair also in Philadelphia. Mistress Samantha ran a white slavery ring where she would kidnap young women and sold them into slavery. Jason and Matt were responsible for acquiring the “talent”.

Trixi awoke the next morning and immediately realized the predicament she was in. She tried to call for help all that came out was “mmmppphhh!!!! mmmppphhh!!!!!.

Then Mistress Samantha came out. A tall 6 feet in heels, nice, athletic, well toned body with long black hair. She was dressed in a black leather corset with garter belts attached to her stockings covered black leather, over the knee stiletto heeled boots. She wore no panties so her pussy and tits were exposed.

"Stop whining. No one’s going to hear you. You’re just going to accept the fact that you will now be spending the rest of your life as a sex slave. Yes, you are a sex toy. To be used and abused by men for their pleasure.”

“Mmmppphhh!!!” Cried Trixi. A sex slave she thought. I’m not a sex slave.

“Deny if you wish but that’s what you are. Look at you. Hung like the piece of meat you are.”

Mistress Samantha chose a riding crop to start disciplining Trixi. She walked around the slave for a couple of minutes. Making a slave wait and anticipate their punishment is probably worse torture than anything physical. Finally she took a seat at her tits. With each stroke, the blows intensified. Then Mistress Samantha worked on Trixi’s cunt.

“Mmmppphhh!!!!”

“Mmmppphhh!!!!”

“Mmmppphhh!!!!”

Mistress Samantha was an absolute sadist. And she knew how to inflict the maximum amount of pain without permanent damage or even heavy marks.

“You are such a brainless cunt. A filthy whore. A piece of meat” as Mistress Samantha enjoyed taunting her slave. She was an absolutely cruel mistress who enjoyed inflicting pain on her slave.

Then the Mistress put on a strap on dildo which big enough to stretch her slave. Mistress Samantha decided to fuck Trixi up the ass. Without lubricant.

“Mmmppphhh !!!!!”

“Mmmppphhh!!!!!”

“Mmmppphhh!!!!!”

As Trixi grunted

“You think I’m bad, the people I’m selling you to are ruthless. No mercy. No safe word. No aftercare.”

Around this time, Jason and Matt came in with a woman. She was wearing a black tank mini dress with matching stiletto open toed strappy heels. The two men were dragging her in. She had her wrists cuffed behind her back. She had a black leather hood covering her head and covering a ball gag in her mouth.

“Aah. We got our new slave. I think she’ll make us a lot of money as well.”

Too be continued

Stand Out

Marinette remembers getting the idea, getting caught up in her anger at Chloe’s selfishness. But now as she stood backstage waiting, she suddenly had second thoughts…

Maybe this was a bad idea? 

Adrienette month is coming to a close, and you know who has been absolutely KILLING IT!?!?! yeah, you know who I’m talking about!! @yunyin has consistently posted the most amazing and gorgeous fanart this month every freak-fracking day!! AND JUST WOW!!! it’s definitely been the highlight of my month!! so thanks to @adrinettemonth​ and yunyin for being awesome ^^ 

THAT BEING SAIIIDDDD… its coming up to our favourite onion artist’s birthday sooon!!!!!! and as an early bday present for yunyin here’s a short drabble to show my appreciation, it falls under day 8th’s prompt, disney AU and is based on this post by yunyin 

**whispers** ***audreys birthday is on March 7… consider sending her all your thanks and well wishes and gifts galore!!!***

(ao3 link)

Marinette peeked out from the rich red expanse of the stage curtain, taking in the entire school sitting down in the auditorium for the annual end of school assembly. Her hands shook, listening, but not really hearing the drone of Principal Damocles as he stood behind the center podium. His words became a mere muffled background rumble, soundtracking Marinette’s unease as her eyes roved over the audience.

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Dream Summer: lounging in silk dresses, wandering through Colombian haciendas, small deaths in orchards at high noon. Reading Arabic poetry, drinking fresh juice and wearing nothing but golden anklets taking late day sunbaths…

Current Summer: an endless tour of the American Midwest, eighteen dogs curled on a couch. black tank top dresses with adidas sliders, falling asleep against warm fur. gas station coffee to fill days of endless highways cut into the sides of mountains. arguing the nuances of liberal politics; an endless news cycle plays. an endless fear grows

awesome-hugs-kisses  asked:

Hi there! I hope you're having a nice day. I wanted to ask a question on where you shop if you don't mind? What are some of your favorite stores? ❤❤

Thanks doll! I’m all over the map and have really particular style so I’m picky. I try not to spend crazy amounts on clothes and have a mix of high/low. I really love All Saints for their silk dresses and have about 8-10. Since moving to NYC I’ve been hitting up Beacon’s Closet and found a couple of super sexy Helmut Lang dresses as well as a pair of Chanel heels for like $100.

A lot of my stuff is second hand, I was poor growing up so I rarely got new clothes. I don’t mind now that I’ve gotten older and still practice it. The only things I buy new are niche items I know I’ll love such as a Realisation Par dress or One Teaspoon denim shorts.

I have a lot of basics from Brandy Melville as well as Forever 21. I like light waist coats over a black tank dress and heels for date night because it looks expensive and put together. I wear a lot of Free People dresses I’ve accumulated over time on sale during the day because they’re flowing and flattering.

Occasionally I’ll buy a fun top from Zara to throw into the mix. I only own two pairs of jeans lol. One is a pair of grey All Saints with the knees frayed and the other is a jet black pair from Madewell because they carry extra long sizes and my legs are long. I had a couple pairs of leggings but am not into athleisure really.

I dress pretty simply with a lot of black and pay more attention to how things make my body look than what’s trendy. I wear really simple nude or black heels and occasionally a pair of black leather loafers.

I have a Louis Vuitton Neverfull and a classic black Chanel wallet on a chain. I wear a gold necklace and four rings every day that I’ve gotten at fairs, then a pair of half carat diamond studs, so I don’t buy accessories really.
Slave Jeanie

Time for another slave story. I’d like to thank Jeanie Tumblr handle @jeannie-larsen for this story.

Again any one interested in being the subject of my slave fiction, just message me with the following details.

First name

Age(18+ please)

Physical description(include if you have tattoos body piercings. A photo would be great but not mandatory)

Sex stats(important for the story)

Where you’d like to be kidnapped from(could be your home, place of employment especially if you work late, college campus, a nightclub, the beach, the mall, on spring break, vacation in a location outside the US, a Craigslist connection, a phony photo shoot)?

What would you be wearing?

Who would you like to be sold to(a brothel, a Middle Eastern or Asian businessman, a drug kingpin, be a Hucow or pony slave, an underground bdsm website)?

I’m also interested in 3 story lines:

A spring break story

A mother/daughter slave combo

Kidnapping a catholic schoolgirl(again must be 18). If possible on that, send a pic with you in your uniform. If not at give a head to toe description.

Also if you’ve submitted requests for stories, be patient. Got a lot of requests. I’ll get to it.

**************************************

It was a Friday night. Usually a good night to try to acquire new talent. Meaning sex slaves to sell. We decided to go to the mall and see what we could find. My partners Bruce and Rick and I were at the food court. A lot of the girls at that point seemed to young for us to grab(again our rule is no one under 18). We then walked around and went by one of the shoe stores and we hit the jackpot. This young girl looked hot to trot and looked like she was going out for a night on the town. She looked like she was in her early 20’s. She was medium height, slender with nice legs and nice tits and ass with reddish brown hair past her shoulders. She was dressed in a tight black tank dress with black strappy open toed heels. She looked like she was going on the shoes at the store as they were having a nice sale.

We then followed her out from a distance to the parking lot. She was parked towards the back. I got our van while Bruce and Rick followed her to her car and as she was unlocking, Bruce and Rick grabbed her and applied chloroform to her mouth. Unlike what you see in movie and on tv, it takes a lot longer to take effect. She was still conscious as we dragged her into the van. Finally as we started tying her up, she passed out. We then secured her wrists and elbows behind her back, tied her ankles and thighs together and attached her ankles and elbow restraints to put her in a hogtie. We then placed a head harness ball gag to shut her and then placed a black leather hood on her head so she couldn’t see. A work of art. Rick felt her panties and noticed that they were kind of wet. Was that because she pee’d in her panties or was she somehow excited.

We went through her purse and checked her id. Her name was Jeanie and she was 21. We would also keep her cell phone. That way, we could use her contacts and social media as potential future slaves.

“Ummh nice. Think she’ll get us a lot of money?” asked Rick.

“She should command quite a bit” Bruce responded.

“She’ll be a lot of fun” responded Rick.

Just when we were about 5 minutes out from the slave training facility, our new slave started to awaken.

“Mmmpph. Mmmpph!?. Mmmppphhh!!!

"Easy sweetie. We’re almost there.” Rick told her as he again started feeling her up. I can imagine her reaction when she woke up. First when she couldn’t see, then couldn’t move and finally couldn’t speak and cry for help. Not that that would’ve done her any good.

We arrived back at the slave training facility just a little after 10pm. We got out a little cart to place the slave in an then took her down the elevator 3 floors down. We undid her rope bondage. She tried to run but she had lost some circulation from the hogtie. And the effects of the chloroform had not completely worn off yet. Besides, she was still wearing her hood so she couldn’t see anyway.

As we do with all slaves the first 3 nights, they are placed on the arch back device. After stripping the slave naked, we then secured its wrists, upper arms, neck, waist, thighs and ankles with metal restraints. We then placed alligator clips on its nipples. A wired metal dildo in its pussy and a wired butt plug up its ass. Then we attached a vibrator the shape of an electric toothbrush to its clit. We briefly removed the hood and gag to give the slave water. Then we turned on vibrator. It was on a timer to go on and off every few minutes to edge the slave. All night long. This was part of 72 hours of sleep deprivation the slave was subjected to. Also the water was laced with a stimulant that increases the slave’s sexual urges. Within just a few minutes, it would probably be begging for us to let it cum. If somehow the slave managed to cum or dose off, the wires we attached to its body had a built in sensor that would bring the slave a nasty shock.

Finally we attached earbuds to her ears. They were attached to a CD player that would play what we call an orientation(or disorientation) tape. It would provide the following message:

“Hello bitch. Comfortable? Probably not. Of course your comfort doesn’t concern us. The only thing that is important is you’re now being trained to be our sex slave. You are going through a transformation from being an independent woman to an obedient and compliant slave. When we’re satisfied that you’re training is complete, you will be auctioned off and sold to the highest bidder. And as we speak, your potential new owner is making a bid on you.

Remember, your a worthless, brainless cunt, a fucktoy, a piece of meat. Just 2 tits and 3 fuckholes. For a man to use and abuse for for his pleasure. How he sees fit. And all 3 holes are for use. If we want to fuck you in the pussy or ass, you will bend over. If we want you to suck our cocks, you will get on your knees, open up wide, and swallow every last drop.

Whatever you were before, you no longer are. You’re just a slave. A piece of property. Merchandise. Our slut. Our filthy whore. You have no human rights. There’s no safe word. No concern about your feelings except how we want you to feel. We want to make you suffer. We will enjoy your torment.The quicker you understand this, the easier it’ll be”.

This message would be on a loop all night long. For it to hear over and over again. And as we predicted, it wouldn’t take long for the slave to beg for us to let it cum. It would on a few occasions during the night be subjected to electrical shock.

In the meantime, the slave was broadcast over the internet and potential slavers would be given the opportunity to place bids on the slave. We began bidding at $10,000. It took about 15 minutes for the first bid to come in at $13,000. And then the bidding would continue climbing over night.

For the slave formerly known as Jeanie, she had been a slave for about an hour and a half. It felt much longer. Her transformation had begun.

Too be continued

Rumors *smut*

Author: obrosey-af

Characters: Dylan x OC

Word count: 2,473

Warnings: smuttity smut

A/N I wrote this to be during the 2015 San Diego Comic Con. That was actually my favorite panel they’ve ever done, everyone just seemed to have so much fun haha this is Dylan with an OC, but it’s not a part of California Love ‘ight? k cool, enjoy(: -Er

Originally posted by dylanchriscobrien


“I’m gonna be sick,” I whined over dramatically, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I’ll hold your hair back if you hold mine for me after,” Tyler winked, slinging his arm around my shoulders.

It’s my second Teen Wolf panel at Comic Con in San Diego since being apart of the show and you’d think I’d be used to it by now. LOL, wrong! I’m actually really nervous about it. I’ve never loved the attention and I get shy or embarrassed very easily. After hearing some of the questions the audience asked my cast members or the commentary Kevin Smith provided last year, I was terrified to say the least about the questions I’d get. I was so new to the show last year; only three or four episodes had aired before Comic Con and I was fairly new in the acting world, so there weren’t really any juicy questions to ask me. I was totally cool with that, by the way. As a cast, we’ve done so many interviews and answered so many questions on the red carpet at priemeres for different things, but they were all Teen Wolf related. I was not excited to hear what frantic, screaming teenage girls had to ask.

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Quadruple Cross Part 2

This is the continuation of a story I began some time ago. Sorry it’s taking me so long to continue since I’ve been bombarded with requests for storylines. This is not a request from a follower. This is my own with all the characters made up similar to my “Spring Break Nightmare” story. Enjoy.

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As Mistress Samantha way working on her slave Trixie, her assistants Jason and Matt brought in a new slave. Her name was Annabella. She was 42(looked younger), petite with long black wavy hair and very ample tits and ass. She was wearing a black mini tank dress and opened toed strappy heels. She was actually married to a guy more than 20 years his senior. And very wealthy which means she didn’t have to work(and with a maid didn’t have to do housework). Basically it was a life of leisure. After her husband went to work, it would be sitting in front of the tv watching soap operas or Real Housewives reruns. Or lying by the pool in her bikini working on her tan. Leaving the house would involve shopping at expensive stores(and running up her husband’s credit cards) or going to the gym(did have to maintain her body). She was basically a trophy wife for him. The thing that did bother her husband was he was certain she was cheating on him with a younger guy(like maybe their pool cleaner). He couldn’t exactly prove it and one time, when he asked for a divorce, she threatened to take him to the cleaners. On the day she was taken, her husband was at work. No one else was there. With nothing good on tv and it raining, she got her iPhone out and decided to watch some porn on her phone. She came across bdsm porn with women bound and tortured and all of a sudden, she found her “wandering”. She was definitely aroused by it. She had just started fingering herself when Jason and Matt snuck up on her and grabbed her. Within a minute, they had her wrists handcuffed behind her back, ball gagged with a head harness ball gag and a black hood over her head. They took her to the van. The two men took turns driving and feeling her up. To both men’s delight, no panties or bra. They arrived at Mistress Samantha’s lair. Then Mistress Samantha placed a call. “Hi just want to let you know it’s done. And of course we made sure you have an airtight alibi.” said the Mistress. “Thank you. I’m wiring you the money right now”. Said the voice on the other side of the line. “"Pleasure doing business”. The person on the other side of the line was Annabella’s husband. She had paid Mistress Samantha to have her kidnapped. But much cheaper than a divorce would have cost(one thing no lawyers). Jason and Matt stripped their new slave and put her in a black corset, garter belts , stockings and left her heels on. They then strung her up in inverted suspension bondage. She was in an upside down x-shape. They left the ball gag on. Then Jason and Matt would feel up Annabella’s tits and then gave them a nice slap. Likewise with her ass and pussy. They would stroke her hair before yanking on it. And a slap in the face capped off the warmup. Jason had a flogger, Matt had a riding crop and began working on her whipping her mercilessly. “Mmmppphhh!!! Mmmppphhh!!!! She was in tears screaming. "Your screams and tears make our cocks harder” Jason told her. “I thought you like this. Certainly judging by what was on your phone.” Matt told her. “Don’t worry. Your fantasy came true. You’ll soon be a sex slave. You’re going to be sold into sexual slavery.” Jason added. The look of horror when she heard that part was priceless. After about 20 minutes of whipping, Mistress Samantha came in. “The silent alarm just went off, see what is. We may have a guest.” While Jason and Matt were checking the alarm, the Mistress continued with her slave. “Did Jason or Matt tell you the good news? You’re going to be a sex slave. We’re gonna sell you. This is a slaver organization that will sell women to the highest bidder.” As the Mistress was stroking her slave’s hair. She then took out a cane and started smacking her ass with it. Nice candy stripes. “You know how we found out about you? Your husband. Seems he was getting tired of you running up his credit cards. And your screwing around. You fucking whore. You filthy slut. Well now you’re going to get fucked by a lot of different guys. You’ll be someone for men to use and abuse for their pleasure.” As the Mistress continued caning her slave. Then Jason and Matt came back dragging an unconscious body. A tall leggy athletic looking blonde wearing a black leather catsuit and black leather over the knee stiletto heeled boots. “We found this bitch snooping around. She’s pretty tough. Had to taser her to get her under control.” Matt told the Mistress. “Let’s make our guest comfortable. She’s potentially another slave to sell. But let’s also find out who’s she’s working for and what she knows.” They proceeded to strip her of her catsuit though they left her boots on. She was then tethered to the suspension rack. When she awoke, she’d be in inverted suspension as well. Too be continued

Surprise

Tyler Joseph x Reader

Request: tyler imagine where the reader is good friends with Tyler and hasn’t seen him in ages. Then, the reader surprises him after years of not talking and Tyler cries a little in disbelief but they catch up on the past and how their lives have been going and it gets a little romantic after?

It had been over a year since you had seen Tyler.  When the band started to get big, you had a hunch that you would probably start to lose contact at some point. You just wished that it didn’t happen so fast. You tried to go to every show they had at home in Ohio.  And you wished more than anything that you could’ve gone to all their shows, but you had a life too, and unfortunately, it always seemed to get in the way.

Luckily for you, after all these years, Tyler and Josh were coming back to Ohio to play a few shows as the last part of their tour. So, you decided to go, then maybe surprise Ty after the show.  All of the crew members knew who you were, so it wasn’t going to be hard to get backstage and surprise him on stage.

You two would always sing duets together, it was one of you and his favorite past times. His angelic voice always had a way of soothing you, and yours soothed him in his anxious times. As the boys were about to head on stage, you started to get ready.  You wore a black, tank dress, accessorized with red socks and black Vans.  You even tacked on the red beanie that you had stolen from Tyler. You smiled in the mirror and played with the necklace he gave you the last time you saw each other.

When you were all ready, you headed out the door, dialing Michael to tell him you were on your way.  

“I’m headed out. Make sure that they’re already on stage by the time I get there. I don’t want Ty to see me yet.”

“Got it, (Y/N), he’ll be happy to see you, that’s for sure.”

“Thanks, Michael. I’ll be there soon.”

You hung up the phone and got in the cab you called to get to the venue. Your heart was thumping in your chest as you got closer to the arena. You couldn’t believe that you were actually about to see Tyler after all this time. It gave your stomach butterflies. You had just missed him so much. And you pretty confident that you were going to cry on stage when you got out there.

The fans loved you, and they missed seeing your posts about Tyler and how the band was doing. Even Josh missed you. You hoped they wouldn’t be mad that you would be interrupting them as they sang My Heart Will Go On.

Your driver pulled into the venue, parked in the back and drove off after seeing you walk to the backstage doors. Mike let you in and quickly got you to a private room with a TV that allowed you watch from the wings. You smiled and teared up a little bit as you saw them come on stage, with the crowd cheering at the top of their lungs for them.

You anxiously sat in the back waiting for the medley to come up, and as it did, the sound crew gave you your microphone and you slowly walked out on stage.

The crowd screamed harder, which you didn’t think was possible, and you started to harmonize with Tyler to the song. His hands instantly fall from the strings of the bass and he looks over his shoulder.

He knew with just one note that it was you. It was a voice that he wasn’t ever going to forget. It was a voice that he longed to hear again. He turns to you and covers his mouth in disbelief that you were actually there.

“Oh my god….” is all you could hear him say.

He got a little weak in the knees, so you ran to him and held him up. You smiled up at him and kept singing.

Tyler just smiles back and continues to play for the crowd. After the medley ended, he puts his bass down and gives you a gigantic hug. One that you didn’t want to end, but you knew he had to finish this show.

Before he lets you go, he whispers something that only you could hear.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

You simply smile and kiss him on the cheek before walking back to the wings. You couldn’t wait for him to be finished so you could catch up with him.

It was no lie. You definitely liked him since the first day you met him. You never knew if he felt the same way. You always thought that he just wanted to be friends with you. So being able to see that reaction from him was really sweet for you.

After the concert was over, Tyler immediately ran backstage and hugged you. He picked you up and spun you around and you laughed.

“Hey Ty.” you said, burying your face into his shoulder.

He puts you down and smiles at you.

“Hey, (Y/N). I can’t believe you’re here… it’s been so long. I’ve missed you so so much..” he says trying to hold back the tears.

“Hey,” you say quietly, using your thumb to wipe away the rogue tear that escaped. “Don’t cry. Then I’ll cry.”

He just laughs and held you closer, taking everything in. It seemed like in this moment, things were absolutely perfect.

“(Y/N), I cannot even begin to tell you…” he started.

Your heart started to pound as you made a split second decision.  One you may or may not regret.  At least then you would know if he liked you back.

Your lips crashed into his, and at first you were worried. However, he kissed you back passionately. The lack of affection you both had made this moment even more special.

As you pull back you bit your lip. You always imagined this moment, but now that it actually happened, you couldn’t believe it.

“Wow…” Tyler stated. “You definitely read my mind.” he smiles and runs his hand through his hair.

You smile and kiss him one more time.

Tyler laughs and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his body.

“I think this has been long overdue.” you say.

Tyler nods in agreement.

“Well I guess we need to make this official… right?” he asks nervously.

You nod and took his hand.

“Come on. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

A little while later, the both of you had gotten ice cream and you walked around the city together. You talked about what you both had been doing for the past few years. He was touring but you could see the love in his eyes whenever he talked about some of his favorite shows. He would talk about all the amazing things fans would send in the mail, and his smile would light up the whole entire world. You loved that about him.

He was always so caring and loving of all the fans, and he genuinely adores them. You knew he deserved all the adoring fans and fame. You told him about how you almost moved to pursue your dream career, but you didn’t. You told him how there was always something holding you back here in Ohio, and how you had a feeling that it was all the memories you made with him here.

After a long while, Tyler walked you back to your house. You smile at him and hugged him.

“Thank you, for everything Ty. You have no idea what that means to me.”

“Of course, (Y/N). I’m not gonna lie, you’ve been keeping me sane all these years, with all the growing fame… I kept the recordings we did a few years back of us singing. And I would listen to it every night before a show… to give me luck…” he laughed. “Is that pathetic?”

You giggle and shook your head.

“Not at all, Ty. That’s really sweet. I would look at all our old photos when I was feeling down, and that’s not pathetic.” you respond.

“You are amazing, (Y/N). I should probably head home to see my family though… unless you want to come with me. I’m sure they miss seeing you too.”

You instantly nod and took his hand, walking to his house that was only a few streets away.

Before you both entered he stopped you and took your hands.

“Would you actually want to stay the night with me…?” he asks shyly.

“Of course,Ty. I would love to.”

And with that you entered the house where you were warmly welcomed, and you knew that your life was going to change for the better.

Bad & Boujee (3)

Disclaimer: None of the picture(s) used below are mine unless otherwise stated and credit is given to owners. In light of the plagiarism happening between here and other sites, I want to make it clear that this is my original work of fiction. Any attempts at stealing will be dealt with accordingly.**Also, if you have an issue with sex workers, please don’t read this story. I ain’t got the time to deal with the hate.

Word Count: 1142

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8

🎉🎉🎉liftx huge haul🎉🎉🎉

Biggest haul so far. This total doesn’t include most of the miscellaneous items and any of the groceries. I am also missing a couple of thousand in clothes that I gave away to friends and family along with shoes and clothes that I have already worn. If you have any questions please ask!!! ☺️

Big Michael kors blue traveler - 200
Paige boyfriend jeans - 240
Michael kors cross body- 175
Michael kors blue purse- 100
Black guess dress- 125
Instax and extra film- 90
White French connection dress-120
Paige shorts- 99
Tinsel high waisted shorts-46
Free People white shorts- 55
William rats shorts-60
Striped sweater- 60
Black French connection dress- 160
Raviya swim cover - 40
Bb Dakota white jumper - 92
Guess watch - 120
Nike shorts- 30x2=60
Free people high waisted shorts-55
Gianni bini white shorts- 70
Express leather skort-65
Express button up- 65x2= 130
Blue button up swim cover- 55
Purple tank top- 54
Black and white dress- 55
Black fancy tank- 65
Grey American apparel dress-50
Bcbg black tank dress- 100
Black long sleeve dress- 118
Cerave sunscreen- 20
It’s a 10 deep conditioner- 27
It’s a 10 shampoo- 25
St Ives spray lotion - 7
Michael kors sweater- 100
Red jumper- 54
Cetaphil lotion-13
It’s a 10 hairspray- 22
Dove spray deodorant-6
Olay face wash- 9
Not your mothers dry shampoo and beachy waves -15
Alexander wang t - 120
Free people white tee-55
Michael kors white tee-35
Tan lady tank-53
Gorgeous-90
Tooth tabs-5
Breathe of fresh air-22
Sweetie pie shower jelly- 12
Helmut Lang white tee-90
Black sandals-45
Sanctuary green pants - 129
Redken deep conditioner-25
Lorac foundation-33x2=66
Lorac unzipped- 42
Bare minerals lotion -28
Naked on the run-50
It’s a 10 silk-20
It’s a 10 styling- 20
Murade acne - 42
Michael kors wallet-120
Michael kors shirt- 90
Ambercrombie jeans- 5x50=250
Hollister jeans-40x3=120
Vitamin A swim top- 90
Trina Turk top and bottom - 162
Jessica Simpson top- 60
Michael kors top-74
Michael kors bottoms-67
Victoria secret top- 40
Bottoms-20
Hurley bottoms- 30
Michael kors dress- 175
Teal giani bini dress- 130
Michael kors jacket-300
Navy converse-45
Speedy slip ons-50
Black booties-45
Michael kors maxi dress-175
Black knee high Michael kors boot-200
Michael kors down jacket- 70
Rebel fleur perfume- 50
Pink sugar-50
Ping sugar hair spray- 20
Starbucks cup-15
Michael kors black real fur jacket- 500
Lulu lemon leggings- 110x3=330
Nike leggings-75x2=150
Calvin Klein leather jacket- 155
Scarf-34
Michael kors rose gold watch- 300
Michael kors gold watch- 200
Prada sunglasses- 340

Also I totally forgot to photograph my 480 terani couture prom dress so I’ll probably add that when I get home which brings the total to $8,700


Total: $8,220

I think I’m in love 😍😍😍

Sister Slaves

This is a story given to me by Hannah known as hortzzz on Tumblr. Enjoy .


**************************************

One day I had gotten an email. It was from brothel in Thailand. They had sent me a photo of a girl named Hannah. She was 19, from Australia. She was, at least, partially Asian. Had a great body. Also word had it that she was a virgin, which a virgin commands top dollar on the slave market. The man from the brothel offered me $500,000. Too good to pass up.

I found her Tumblr page and found a lot of animated bdsm artwork on her page. I followed her and began corresponding with her on Tumblr. I began asking personal questions of her which, surprisingly, she was very open. She had told me she was both a vaginal and anal virgin. She also admitted having fantasies about being a sex slave. She then sent me a couple of pics of herself. She apologized for one for having someone else in the picture. Turned out it was her sister. Her name was Ayunna. She was 21. She had a little darker hair and seemed more Asian. Then it came to me, we maybe kidnap both.

Mistress Sydney and I took our private jet over to Australia. Sydney particularly enjoyed it because it was her first opportunity at foreign travel since we acquired her. We arrived that Monday and surveilled both women to find their patterns. Finally on Friday night, they both decided to go to a nightclub together. Both dressed hot. Hannah was wearing a black mini tank dress with white strappy opened toed heels. Ayunna was wearing pretty much the same thing except a white dress and black heels. They were dancing together. A lot of guys were trying to hit on both. They were pretty much ignored as the girls it turned out were total dick teases. Finally Sydney saw this as a chance to get in good with them. Sydney was dressed in black mini tank dress with beige colored strappy open toed heels.

“It seems we can’t go to a club without a bunch of yahoos trying to hit on us” observed Ayunna.

“Tell me about it” responded Sydney.

“I think I might start carrying pepper spray heh heh” chimed in Hannah.

“Hey you want to go out on the floor again?” Asked Hannah.

“Sure why not. Be right you, just wanted to check my messages” responded Sydney. Then while they weren’t looking, Sydney dropped some ghb in both girls drinks and then joined both ladies for more dancing. After 20 minutes, they returned to their seats where both ladies finished their drinks. It was almost 3am.

“Well we’re heading out. We’re getting kinda tired. Here’s my phone number if you wanna hang out one night” said Ayunna.

“Cool. How you ladies getting home?” Responded Sydney

“Taking a cab” responded Hannah.

“Same here. I’ll call it in.” Said Sydney.

The cab Sydney called was a rental van I was driving. I got there in less than 5 minutes. Just after Hannah and Ayunna got in the van, the drugs started to take affect.

“Oh my god. What was in that last drink, I’m really feeling lightheaded now ” said Hannah.

“Same here. Can we get a window open?” Chimed in Ayunna.

“You girls alright?” Responded Sydney.

“No. I’m so dizzy” said Ayunna.

Finally both girls passed out. On our way to the airport, Sydney, took rope and tied both girls up putting both in a hogtie. I had to admire the way Sydney can make an art form out of bondage. We had combo ball gags/blindfolds for both. When we arrived at the airport, we brought both on the plane and placed them in the cargo section in cages. It would be a long trip back to Virginia. We had to have fueling stops in Hawaii, Los Angeles and St. Louis. It was actually 3am also Saturday morning eastern time when we arrived in the airport. Bruce and Rick arrived to assist placing both cages in the van. By this time they were both awake and screaming although the ball gags muted it a little bit. At this point, they must have been totally disoriented.

We drove back to the state of the art(at least for us lol, not for them) slave training facility. We put the cages on a cart and took the elevator 3 floors underground. We took them out of the cages, stripped them of their clothes and we tethered them to what’s called an arch back device which has them bent over on their backs and we secure wrists, ankles, necks, and above the elbows. We took off both gags temporarily to give them both water. Both were laced with a stimulant that increases their sexual urges. We then attached to their clits vibrators that ran on a timer. It would go on and off every 3-4 minutes all night enough to edge both slaves. It was part of 72 hours of sleep deprivation that we subject our slaves to.

Finally we attached to the ears earbuds which most of the time would play white noise. The rest of the time would be their disorientation tape. It would give the slaves the following message.

“Hello bitch. As you can see by now, you are now a sex slave. You will be beginning your training and you’re transformation to an obedient, compliant slave. The more you comply and obey, the easier the training will be.

You are no longer human beings. You have no human rights. You are now just property, merchandise. A man’s pleasure. Sex object. You are just tits and 3 fuckholes for a man or maybe woman to use and abuse for their pleasure. You are inferior to men. You probably even inferior to animals. You’re a dumb filthy whore. A worthless brainless cunt. A piece of meat. A fucktoy. A rape toy.”

For Hannah and Ayunna, whatever they were 24 hours before, they no longer were. Their transformation from independent women to obedient sex slaves had begun. And constant edging provided both sexual and psychological torture both slaves. And physical torture would also be included as well.

We kept the slaves in that state for 6 hours. It certainly seemed longer.

**************************************

To be continued

I don’t want someone that always post his relationship on social media to tell everyone how happy he is. I don’t want someone who complains about my physical appearance, ask me how my weight comes from, and who complains about what I wear. I don’t want someone that I can only share my other interest with, rather than all the stuffs that I like.

——

I want someone who understands me. He would listen to all my shitty things and have a deep conversation with. I don’t know, maybe talk about the existence, how the galaxies are made, death, politics, history, philosophy, what is life, what life means, music. I don’t want to have a conversation that is just saying “hey, what’s up”, I do really hate small talks.

I want someone that looks me the way Johnny looked at Winona. The one that we have something in common, but also something to argue. Despite the arguments we would make, we still look each other in the eye and last the bond.

I want someone that is just okay for what I wear. Ripped jeans, oversized tees, sneakers, messy hair, all black outfit, flannels. Dresses, tank tops, blouses, heels, make ups. He would not complain for what I wear, instead we just have fun.

I want someone who I can call in the middle of the night just to tell him that I just ate a cereal. He would listen all those nonsense, and continue to talk about how did Socrates could have such a great minds.

I want someone who makes me laugh. Telling me his jokes even though it’s not funny, tell me how his day was and being lazy together. Maybe watch a movie, listen to music, read books, or just lay in bed all day. Or maybe, watch The Breakfast Club, Dead Poets Society, The sound of Music, Disney, Pride and Prejudice, or 10 Things I hate About You.

I want someone that doesn’t afraid to tell me if I behave rude lately. We just share our thoughts and being outspoken. 

I want someone that can also be my best friend. Instead of “Hey baby, I love you” he can say “Hey let’s have pizza, my treat”. He doesn’t have to buy me sweet things, like flowers, expensive stuffs, dresses, and all those cliche things. I would rather be given a mix-tape. Or love letters. Or a book about our bucket list. 

I want someone that photographs the memories and even though he would photograph the insecure me, he would just pause me to do other thing and capture it and he would say how perfect it is. Not to be posted in social media, but instead being framed or saved in the photo albums. We would look to all those photographs some other time, and how the person in it would never change.

I want someone who takes me to unpredictable dates. Not a fancy dinner, but maybe we could hike. Explore nature and go on adventure. An impromptu date night where we would just lay on the grass and stare at the starry sky, or maybe we could have a snack eaten outside a closed library. I don’t know, take me somewhere I have never been before, or somewhere that is your favorite place. Your sanctuary. 

I want someone that Winona hard to get over, and be someone Johnny really tried to get over. We just complete each other and we don’t know what to do if finally we are being apart.

——

Maybe this is too much for I could have asked for someone. But I swear, the way you give me your best, the way I do give you the very best of me.

Vogue: On the Road with Best Friends Taylor Swift and Karlie Kloss

Taylor Swift and Karlie Kloss have forged the kinds of careers—and the kind of friendship—that people dream about.

One of the first things Taylor Swift did after moving from Nashville to her sprawling two-story penthouse in New York’s Tribeca was cover a wall of her den with framed, blown-up Polaroids of the most important people in her life. “This is when me and Karlie first met,” she says, pointing to a picture of her grinning and hugging model Karlie Kloss backstage at the 2013 Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show, where Kloss walked the runway in pink underwear and giant psychedelic wings and Swift performed with Fall Out Boy. The caption, handwritten in Sharpie, reads BEST FRIENDS FOREVER VS2013 and feels rather prescient given how close the two have become over the past year or so, with a road trip to Big Sur (dreamily documented on Instagram), restaurant outings, shopping excursions, sleepovers, texting marathons, ModelFit and SoulCycle sessions, and a second joint VS outing late last year in London, where, as the pair walked side by side down the runway in black lace, they exchanged “Can you believe this?!” grins—two friends on top of the world.

Lena Dunham and Cara Delevingne also make the Polaroid wall, as does Swift’s younger brother, Austin, 22, a senior at Notre Dame, standing next to his sister in the matching red plaid adult onesies she bought for her family last Christmas. A Polaroid captioned squirrel invasion documents the first time Swift met Lorde (whom Swift calls by her given name, Ella), as the two set out for dinner at Shake Shack in Madison Square Park only to be attacked by rodents. “We were taking these photos, and all of a sudden, like in a horror movie, there were squirrels sitting on our shoulders trying to eat our food,” says Swift, reenacting the moment. “Perched, like parrots! They’re like, ‘We deserve French fries, and we’re going to take them from you.’ ”

Swift click-clacks through her kitchen to her living room in black stiletto Louboutins, plops down on a burnt-orange velvet sofa, wiggles into a slouch, and props those heels up on a tufted brown-leather ottoman. Everything in the apartment is rendered in velvet, leather, and wood in dark, rich earth and jewel tones, from her rosewood Steinway grand piano to her pool table (where VS models Behati Prinsloo and Lily Aldridge apparently proved themselves to be quite the sharks when they came over earlier in the week).

It’s two days before her twenty-fifth birthday, and Swift is brimming with the confidence of a young woman who’s come into her own. It’s been quite a year: She not only moved to New York, away from her family; she’s also taken risks with her sound, stepping back from the world of country to embrace the throwback purity of eighties pop—with amazing success. “Blank Space,” a defiant (and impossible-not-to-sing-along-to) response to the media’s depiction of her as a crazed man-eater, enjoyed a seven-week run atop the Billboard Hot 100. Swift also became the first female in the chart’s 56-year history to replace herself at No. 1 (her earlier single was the now-ubiquitous “Shake It Off”). Both are from her remarkable new album,1989, named after the year she was born, which has sold more than six million copies and become, along the way, the fastest-moving rec­ord of the past decade. Saturday Night Live, meanwhile, aired a parody commercial for Swiftamine, a drug to treat the epidemic of vertigo in adults who suddenly realize how much they love Taylor Swift. “People are finally starting to discuss her artistry—how she’s on the level of some of the great all-time songwriters,” says Jack Antonoff of the band fun., who’s co-written several songs with Swift and likens her deeply personal storytelling to new chapters of a book the whole world wants to read. “The other day my grandmother was asking me about1989. We’re all talking about it. In my lifetime, I haven’t experienced that since Michael Jackson—that one artist who stands above and unites us all.”

Swift has also remixed her personal life. For starters, the once-hopeless romantic who laid her emotions bare in songs about whirlwind love affairs and their aftermaths, like “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” (reportedly about Jake Gyllenhaal) or “I Knew You Were Trouble” and1989’s “Out of the Woods” (reportedly about Harry Styles), is pushing back at critics who have dismissed her as boy-obsessed. The tongue-in-cheek “Blank Space” video shows her stabbing a heart-shaped cake with a butcher’s knife, setting a boyfriend’s clothes on fire, and taking a golf club to his gorgeous silver sports car. Kloss, Dunham, and Delevingne, meanwhile, are part of a close-knit group of powerful women friends that Swift has been building over the past few years. Members also include Selena Gomez, whom Swift has known since they were both teenagers dating Jonas brothers; Jaime King, a kind of Earth Mother figure; and the Haim sisters, whom she met last fall. Devoting this much time to her female friendships started out as a reaction, Swift says, “to the way people were overreacting to my life. I was really irritated by the whole serial-dater play that people tried to make about me.”

She responded by pulling the plug on her love life. “I just decided I wasn’t willing to provide them that kind of entertainment anymore,” she says. “I wasn’t going to go out on dates and have them be allowed to take pictures and say whatever they wanted about our body language. I wasn’t going to sit next to somebody and flirt with them for five minutes, because I know the next day he’ll be rumored to be my boyfriend. I just kind of took the narrative back. It’s unfortunate I had to do that. And it’s unfortunate that now I have this feeling like if I were to open myself up to love, that would be a career weakness.” Instead, Swift is emerging as a powerful figure for teenage girls and young women—someone who takes to task critics and bullies and, yes, men who’ve wronged her, and provides a shining example of a woman shaping her own destiny.

“This last year has felt very different than any other year of my life,” Swift tells me. “I’ve felt more settled and unapologetic about who I am and what I stand for. I think that might be one of those symptoms of growing up and becoming your own person, and depending less on other people’s opinions of you. I just hope that keeps going—because I’m liking it.”

Swift is describing her philosophy about making friends—basically, wear ’em down till they like you—when Kloss sweeps into the apartment, a six-foot-one beam of sunshine. Though Swift and Kloss have known each other for only a year, their best-friendship, they tell me, was instantaneous. They’re a striking pair, particularly now that Kloss’s formerly tawny hair is blonde. “When I did SNL they both came, and at the after-party it was so confusing to everyone, like these Amazon twins,” says Dunham. “Taylor’s so tall, Karlie’s even taller, and together it’s just surreal.”

If Swift wears heels and Kloss wears flats, they’re the same height. But today, Kloss has messed up the equation by wearing skintight Tamara Mellon leather leggings with boots attached. “All-in-one, baby,” she says, showing them off as she walks the floor bearing a tin of her gluten- and dairy-free Karlie’s Kookies, from her collaboration with Milk Bar.

“They’re kind of the greatest thing I’ve ever seen,” Swift gushes. “You look like Catwoman!” Kloss says they’re custom-made, but she can hook Swift up with a pair. “They’re pretty good,” says Kloss, “but I can’t take them back to St. Louis. When I go home, if I have even an ounce of New York attitude, my family’s like, ‘Nope, nope.’ They don’t let it happen.” “They’re like, ‘You with your shoe pants, you leave those outside!’” says Swift, laughing. “You put on some real pants!”

Though Kloss seems to have a keen awareness of every stitch of fashion she has on her body, when I ask Swift who made her black knit tank dress, she has no idea.

Kloss notices the dress, too. “What is this? Alaïa?”

Swift turns to me for help. “I don’t know—do I have a tag in there?” she asks, lifting up her fluffy fair hair and leaning her back toward me. rvn, the tag reads. “My stylist put it in my closet,” she says, burying her face in her hands.

Somehow, though, despite their differing levels of fashion expertise, they often tend to dress the same. “The other night I came over,” says Kloss, “and we were both going someplace from here, and we were both wearing black crop tops and high-waisted skirts. It’s kind of getting weird.”

“Black tights, hair done the same way,” says Swift. “Just like, ‘Ugh, be more annoying.’ We couldn’t possibly be.

“People had been telling us for years we needed to meet,” she adds. “I remember makeup artists and hair people going, ‘Doesn’t she remind you of Karlie? God, she and Karlie would be best friends. They’re the same. Karlie’s such a good girl. She brings us cookies every time we do a shoot.’ ”

“Still do,” says Kloss. As a teen she made them from scratch. Now she makes them professionally—Karlie’s Kookies raises money for charities like FEED, Hurricane Sandy relief, and the CFDA. In addition to the baking venture, Kloss has studied at Harvard Business School (her boyfriend of two years, Joshua Kushner, an early investor in Instagram who recently cofounded the health-care start-up Oscar, is an alumnus) and is now learning computer coding.

A mutual friend, Kloss’s fellow VS model Lily Aldridge, introduced her to Swift, “and we were just like, ‘You. My friend. Now,’ ” says Swift. A few months later they saw each other again at an Oscars after-party, and Kloss suggested they do something spontaneous. “I’d been to Big Sur once before, and I was like, ‘We should just do it,’ ” says Swift.

They walked beneath the redwoods, ran on the beach at sunset, took a picture hanging off the state-park sign with Kloss wearing Swift’s sweater, the front of which spelled out genius. “It’s ironic, clearly,” Swift is quick to add

When I ask what they bonded over, they shrug. “We’re both normal people,” says Kloss. “We’re real girls,” says Swift, who, as if on cue, drops part of the cookie she’s eating on her dress, picks it up, and eats it. “Five-second rule.”

Swift is, by all accounts, an amazing person to be friends with. She cooks, she bakes, she does the dishes; she’s a fantastic host, she gives great gifts. She has a collection of old-timey nightgowns that she and her friends wear while watching television and—technology aside—pretending they’re living in frontier days. (Swift, who shows me a picture on her phone of her, Cara Delevingne, and Kendall Jenner all lying in her bed looking like Little House on the Prairie, inspired Dunham to start her own collection.) Every hang, it seems, ends in a dance party in her kitchen. Dunham calls her “the Betty Crocker of friendships” and says she’s most impressed by how Swift always has time for the people she loves. “It’s amazing to have a friend who’s that busy and also so available,” says Dunham. “Even if she’s in Hong Kong on tour and I’m going through something, if I text her, I get an answer in two seconds. If something good happens to me—say, I get a nomination, or it’s my birthday, or the day before my birthday, or my book comes out—I get a text from Taylor way before I get a text from my mom.“

Some of Swift’s eagerness to make friends probably comes from her having felt like an outcast while growing up. “I have lots of issues from school,” she says. “You can tell, probably.” Essentially, she left the small Pennsylvania town where she was made fun of for her music and formed a close community where she’s now surrounded by people with similar talents and creative ambitions. It’s a kind of high school do-over in which she can join whatever clique she wants—or decide to abolish cliques altogether. When I ask Swift which metaphorical lunch table she sits at now, she immediately gets what I’m saying. “I want to make the table as big as possible, and I want everyone to sit with me,” she says.

The next day at Billboard’s Women in Music Awards luncheon (where Aretha Franklin sings her an impromptu “Happy Birthday” that Swift later tweets will take her decades to recover from), she sings along to every song, from performances to montages—she knows the words to everything. If female musicians are supposed to all be out for one another’s blood, it’s not happening on Swift’s watch.

Every kid in the room who comes up to her, meanwhile, gets not only a selfie but a conversation. “Little children! I must attend to them,” she says, apologizing for running off in the middle of a conversation. An eleven-year-old girl sheepishly tells Swift she’s from New Jersey. “I spent the summers going down to the Jersey Shore,” says Swift and poses for four apparently blurry selfies before gently taking the phone from the girl’s hand. “You’re really bad at this,” Swift jokes, taking the photo herself. The girl is going to be at Z100’s Jingle Ball concert, where Swift is the closing performer, that night. “I go on really late,” Swift warns her. “Do you drink coffee?” The girl says she drinks Frappuccinos. “OK,” says Swift, “drink a Frappuccino and you might be able to stay awake long enough to see me.”

“New York City, it’s good to be home! I’m Taylor,” says Swift. It’s shortly before midnight, and she’s standing onstage at Madison Square Garden addressing a screaming crowd of 17,000 as if she’s talking to one of her girlfriends on the phone. Dressed in red plaid high-waisted pants and a matching crop top, her hair feathered like Blondie-era Debbie Harry, she blazes through four hits before announcing that she has officially turned 25. “I know why you choose music—it’s because you want to escape from haters and frenemies,” Swift tells the crowd, instructing us to exchange nods of solidarity with our neighbors. “This is the last song of the night,” she continues. “No one’s gonna judge you for how you dance during this song. New York City, are you ready?” The place goes nuts.

Swift returns to her apartment well past midnight, orders sushi, and sets up a makeshift photo booth to host what seems like every famous person in music. She has invited all her fellow performers (Iggy Azalea, Charli XCX, Ariana Grande, Sam Smith, Nick Jonas), along with other friends ranging from Kloss to Abigail Anderson—Swift’s best friend since freshman year of high school in suburban Hendersonville, Tennessee—to Justin Timberlake and Jay Z and Beyoncé. “I have, like, 20 different people flying in,” Swift had told me the day before. “My friends are staying in every room.” Her mother, Andrea, however—who flew in from Nashville earlier laden with decorations now draped over mirrors and mantels, with every window in the place (I lose count at fifteen) garlanded as well—isn’t there. “I think a twenty-fifth birthday, no mother should be there,” Andrea told me. “You need to know when to step away.”

The next time I catch up with Swift, she’s still in her PJs at 11:15 on a perfect sunny January morning at her house in Beverly Hills. In the month since I saw her turn 25 she’s become the proud owner of a bejeweled necklace (a birthday gift from Dunham) bearing the image of her kitten Olivia; danced like crazy with Beyoncé and the Haim sisters at a Justin Timberlake concert in Brooklyn; bought the shirt off Hugh Jackman’s back (giving $6,000 to the Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS charity in the process) while seeing him perform on Broadway with her family; sent out a large batch of gift packages to her fans, one of which included a Swift painting of flowers and a check for $1,989 to help pay off a student loan; and rung in the New Year onstage in Times Square in front of a million people live and a billion more on TV and the Web. Since she’s been out West, though, she’s been doing what she can to catch up with friends, including “a lot of cooking nights,” hiking with Lorde, and wandering around Catalina Island eating ice cream with her girlfriends and her dad. When Lorde sounded stressed about going to the Golden Globes, Swift showed up in support wearing a bright-yellow dress (in honor of Lorde’s nominated song, “Yellow Flicker Beat”). “We just turned it into a girls’ night,” Swift says over the phone.

For both today and the foreseeable future, though, Swift is going to be all business getting ready for the 1989 world tour, which kicks off May 5 in Tokyo. There’s a set list to finalize, and wardrobe and production design to approve, and choreography to learn. She insists she’s not nearly as awkward a dancer as she pretends to be in the “Shake It Off” video: “If I get serious about choreography, I will learn it and I’ll do it correctly—most of the time,” she says.

Looking back on what’s been both a tumultuous and momentous time in her life, Swift says she and her family “had a lot of moments where we would look at each other and say, ‘Wow—I can’t believe people got it.’ You only hope for things like this.” She’s been trying to take it all as it comes. “I don’t get so caught up in the work that I don’t appreciate the crazy, incredible, astonishing, joyous success that’s happened,” she says. “Putting pressure on yourself is good, but putting unnecessary stress on yourself is bad—so I don’t worry that I haven’t started the next record yet. I don’t worry that I don’t know what it’s going to be. I’m not worried that I have absolutely no timetable as to when it needs to be done. It could be two years from now; it could be three, it could be four. Or it could be one. You get these bursts of inspiration right at the moment you’re not expecting to. You just have to live your life, and hopefully you’ll take the right risks.”

Kloss, for her part, has been maintaining the kind of schedule that would seem to require its own air-traffic controller. After a short break back home in St. Louis, she’s been back and forth to Paris twice in early January alone as part of her new job as a L’Oréal Paris spokesperson; to the Florida Keys for a Bruce Weber shoot; and to L.A. and Paris again for L’Oréal. Next up: back to L.A. for the Oscars before ramping up for Fashion Weeks in New York, Milan, and Paris. “In moderation it can be really fun,” says Kloss, who’s cut the 60 shows she used to walk at the start of her career down to a fraction of that. “For me, runway is an opportunity to perform.”

She’s also practically bursting to tell me some big news: She’s been accepted to NYU’s Gallatin School of Individualized Study. (NYU alum Christy Turlington Burns wrote her letter of recommendation.) “I was waiting for the mail to arrive every single day,” she says. “It’s something that I’ve wanted to do for a very long time.” Kloss doesn’t yet know what she’ll study; for now, she’s just excited to be taking classes. “I’ll still be working full-time,” she says. “I’m incredibly ambitious and have lots of goals within my career that I’m not slowing down on anytime soon.”

Swift says she and her friends don’t talk much about work. “The fun thing about my friends is that they don’t necessarily know a lot about what I do business-wise,” she says. The first time Kloss ever saw Swift pick up a guitar and noodle around on it was during the photo shoot for this story. “I’m not one of those singers who’s always like, ‘Look at me!’ ” says Swift. “I’m not the person who grabs the guitar at a party and wants all the attention. I have attention on me enough, so I want my friends to just like me because we have things in common rather than me sitting in a corner being like, ‘Listen to this song that I wrote about my life!’ ”

No matter how busy they are, though, Swift and Kloss continue to make time for each other. Swift recently had Kloss over to her place for a night of cooking pasta with model Martha Hunt, stylist Ashley Avignone, and Tavi Gevinson. A few days later that same group went to dinner at Ralph Lauren’s restaurant, the Polo Bar, in midtown. (“The French fries were delicious,” says Kloss.)

Kloss says that bringing together disparate women from different industries may be Swift’s most unsung talent. “I’ve met a lot of really great girls through Taylor. She’s incredible at connecting people who might not normally meet. We’re all in different jobs, but we’ve become strong friends who are there for each other—a sisterhood of girls, a support team. But we’re also just normal 20-something girls, and I think you have to have people that you can be that with. You know, real friends are hard to find—and Taylor’s a real friend. There’s nothing better.”

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10

On the Road with Best Friends Taylor Swift and Karlie Kloss

Taylor Swift and Karlie Kloss have forged the kinds of careers—and the kind of friendship—that people dream about.

One of the first things Taylor Swift did after moving from Nashville to her sprawling two-story penthouse in New York’s Tribeca was cover a wall of her den with framed, blown-up Polaroids of the most important people in her life. “This is when me and Karlie first met,” she says, pointing to a picture of her grinning and hugging model Karlie Kloss backstage at the 2013 Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show, where Kloss walked the runway in pink underwear and giant psychedelic wings and Swift performed with Fall Out Boy. The caption, handwritten in Sharpie, reads BEST FRIENDS FOREVER VS2013 and feels rather prescient given how close the two have become over the past year or so, with a road trip to Big Sur (dreamily documented on Instagram), restaurant outings, shopping excursions, sleepovers, texting marathons, ModelFit and SoulCycle sessions, and a second joint VS outing late last year in London, where, as the pair walked side by side down the runway in black lace, they exchanged “Can you believe this?!” grins—two friends on top of the world.

Lena Dunham and Cara Delevingne also make the Polaroid wall, as does Swift’s younger brother, Austin, 22, a senior at Notre Dame, standing next to his sister in the matching red plaid adult onesies she bought for her family last Christmas. A Polaroid captioned squirrel invasion documents the first time Swift met Lorde (whom Swift calls by her given name, Ella), as the two set out for dinner at Shake Shack in Madison Square Park only to be attacked by rodents. “We were taking these photos, and all of a sudden, like in a horror movie, there were squirrels sitting on our shoulders trying to eat our food,” says Swift, reenacting the moment. “Perched, like parrots! They’re like, ‘We deserve French fries, and we’re going to take them from you.’ ”

Swift click-clacks through her kitchen to her living room in black stiletto Louboutins, plops down on a burnt-orange velvet sofa, wiggles into a slouch, and props those heels up on a tufted brown-leather ottoman. Everything in the apartment is rendered in velvet, leather, and wood in dark, rich earth and jewel tones, from her rosewood Steinway grand piano to her pool table (where VS models Behati Prinsloo and Lily Aldridge apparently proved themselves to be quite the sharks when they came over earlier in the week).

It’s two days before her twenty-fifth birthday, and Swift is brimming with the confidence of a young woman who’s come into her own. It’s been quite a year: She not only moved to New York, away from her family; she’s also taken risks with her sound, stepping back from the world of country to embrace the throwback purity of eighties pop—with amazing success. “Blank Space,” a defiant (and impossible-not-to-sing-along-to) response to the media’s depiction of her as a crazed man-eater, enjoyed a seven-week run atop the Billboard Hot 100. Swift also became the first female in the chart’s 56-year history to replace herself at No. 1 (her earlier single was the now-ubiquitous “Shake It Off”). Both are from her remarkable new album, 1989, named after the year she was born, which has sold more than six million copies and become, along the way, the fastest-moving rec­ord of the past decade. Saturday Night Live, meanwhile, aired a parody commercial for Swiftamine, a drug to treat the epidemic of vertigo in adults who suddenly realize how much they love Taylor Swift. “People are finally starting to discuss her artistry—how she’s on the level of some of the great all-time songwriters,” says Jack Antonoff of the band fun., who’s co-written several songs with Swift and likens her deeply personal storytelling to new chapters of a book the whole world wants to read. “The other day my grandmother was asking me about 1989. We’re all talking about it. In my lifetime, I haven’t experienced that since Michael Jackson—that one artist who stands above and unites us all.”

Swift has also remixed her personal life. For starters, the once-hopeless romantic who laid her emotions bare in songs about whirlwind love affairs and their aftermaths, like “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” (reportedly about Jake Gyllenhaal) or “I Knew You Were Trouble” and 1989’s “Out of the Woods” (reportedly about Harry Styles), is pushing back at critics who have dismissed her as boy-obsessed. The tongue-in-cheek “Blank Space” video shows her stabbing a heart-shaped cake with a butcher’s knife, setting a boyfriend’s clothes on fire, and taking a golf club to his gorgeous silver sports car. Kloss, Dunham, and Delevingne, meanwhile, are part of a close-knit group of powerful women friends that Swift has been building over the past few years. Members also include Selena Gomez, whom Swift has known since they were both teenagers dating Jonas brothers; Jaime King, a kind of Earth Mother figure; and the Haim sisters, whom she met last fall. Devoting this much time to her female friendships started out as a reaction, Swift says, “to the way people were overreacting to my life. I was really irritated by the whole serial-dater play that people tried to make about me.”

She responded by pulling the plug on her love life. “I just decided I wasn’t willing to provide them that kind of entertainment anymore,” she says. “I wasn’t going to go out on dates and have them be allowed to take pictures and say whatever they wanted about our body language. I wasn’t going to sit next to somebody and flirt with them for five minutes, because I know the next day he’ll be rumored to be my boyfriend. I just kind of took the narrative back. It’s unfortunate I had to do that. And it’s unfortunate that now I have this feeling like if I were to open myself up to love, that would be a career weakness.” Instead, Swift is emerging as a powerful figure for teenage girls and young women—someone who takes to task critics and bullies and, yes, men who’ve wronged her, and provides a shining example of a woman shaping her own destiny.

“This last year has felt very different than any other year of my life,” Swift tells me. “I’ve felt more settled and unapologetic about who I am and what I stand for. I think that might be one of those symptoms of growing up and becoming your own person, and depending less on other people’s opinions of you. I just hope that keeps going—because I’m liking it.”

Swift is describing her philosophy about making friends—basically, wear ’em down till they like you—when Kloss sweeps into the apartment, a six-foot-one beam of sunshine. Though Swift and Kloss have known each other for only a year, their best-friendship, they tell me, was instantaneous. They’re a striking pair, particularly now that Kloss’s formerly tawny hair is blonde. “When I did SNL they both came, and at the after-party it was so confusing to everyone, like these Amazon twins,” says Dunham. “Taylor’s so tall, Karlie’s even taller, and together it’s just surreal.”

If Swift wears heels and Kloss wears flats, they’re the same height. But today, Kloss has messed up the equation by wearing skintight Tamara Mellon leather leggings with boots attached. “All-in-one, baby,” she says, showing them off as she walks the floor bearing a tin of her gluten- and dairy-free Karlie’s Kookies, from her collaboration with Milk Bar.

“They’re kind of the greatest thing I’ve ever seen,” Swift gushes. “You look like Catwoman!” Kloss says they’re custom-made, but she can hook Swift up with a pair. “They’re pretty good,” says Kloss, “but I can’t take them back to St. Louis. When I go home, if I have even an ounce of New York attitude, my family’s like, ‘Nope, nope.’ They don’t let it happen.” “They’re like, ‘You with your shoe pants, you leave those outside!’” says Swift, laughing. “You put on some real pants!”

Though Kloss seems to have a keen awareness of every stitch of fashion she has on her body, when I ask Swift who made her black knit tank dress, she has no idea.

Kloss notices the dress, too. “What is this? Alaïa?”

Swift turns to me for help. “I don’t know—do I have a tag in there?” she asks, lifting up her fluffy fair hair and leaning her back toward me. rvn, the tag reads. “My stylist put it in my closet,” she says, burying her face in her hands.

Somehow, though, despite their differing levels of fashion expertise, they often tend to dress the same. “The other night I came over,” says Kloss, “and we were both going someplace from here, and we were both wearing black crop tops and high-waisted skirts. It’s kind of getting weird.”

“Black tights, hair done the same way,” says Swift. “Just like, ‘Ugh, be more annoying.’ We couldn’t possibly be.

“People had been telling us for years we needed to meet,” she adds. “I remember makeup artists and hair people going, ‘Doesn’t she remind you of Karlie? God, she and Karlie would be best friends. They’re the same. Karlie’s such a good girl. She brings us cookies every time we do a shoot.’ ”

“Still do,” says Kloss. As a teen she made them from scratch. Now she makes them professionally—Karlie’s Kookies raises money for charities like FEED, Hurricane Sandy relief, and the CFDA. In addition to the baking venture, Kloss has studied at Harvard Business School (her boyfriend of two years, Joshua Kushner, an early investor in Instagram who recently cofounded the health-care start-up Oscar, is an alumnus) and is now learning computer coding.

A mutual friend, Kloss’s fellow VS model Lily Aldridge, introduced her to Swift, “and we were just like, ‘You. My friend. Now,’ ” says Swift. A few months later they saw each other again at an Oscars after-party, and Kloss suggested they do something spontaneous. “I’d been to Big Sur once before, and I was like, ‘We should just do it,’ ” says Swift.

They walked beneath the redwoods, ran on the beach at sunset, took a picture hanging off the state-park sign with Kloss wearing Swift’s sweater, the front of which spelled out genius. “It’s ironic, clearly,” Swift is quick to add.
When I ask what they bonded over, they shrug. “We’re both normal people,” says Kloss.

“We’re real girls,” says Swift, who, as if on cue, drops part of the cookie she’s eating on her dress, picks it up, and eats it. “Five-second rule.”

Swift is, by all accounts, an amazing person to be friends with. She cooks, she bakes, she does the dishes; she’s a fantastic host, she gives great gifts. She has a collection of old-timey nightgowns that she and her friends wear while watching television and—technology aside—pretending they’re living in frontier days. (Swift, who shows me a picture on her phone of her, Cara Delevingne, and Kendall Jenner all lying in her bed looking like Little House on the Prairie, inspired Dunham to start her own collection.) Every hang, it seems, ends in a dance party in her kitchen. Dunham calls her “the Betty Crocker of friendships” and says she’s most impressed by how Swift always has time for the people she loves. “It’s amazing to have a friend who’s that busy and also so available,” says Dunham. “Even if she’s in Hong Kong on tour and I’m going through something, if I text her, I get an answer in two seconds. If something good happens to me—say, I get a nomination, or it’s my birthday, or the day before my birthday, or my book comes out—I get a text from Taylor way before I get a text from my mom.”

Some of Swift’s eagerness to make friends probably comes from her having felt like an outcast while growing up. “I have lots of issues from school,” she says. “You can tell, probably.” Essentially, she left the small Pennsylvania town where she was made fun of for her music and formed a close community where she’s now surrounded by people with similar talents and creative ambitions. It’s a kind of high school do-over in which she can join whatever clique she wants—or decide to abolish cliques altogether. When I ask Swift which metaphorical lunch table she sits at now, she immediately gets what I’m saying. “I want to make the table as big as possible, and I want everyone to sit with me,” she says.

The next day at Billboard’s Women in Music Awards luncheon (where Aretha Franklin sings her an impromptu “Happy Birthday” that Swift later tweets will take her decades to recover from), she sings along to every song, from performances to montages—she knows the words to everything. If female musicians are supposed to all be out for one another’s blood, it’s not happening on Swift’s watch.

Every kid in the room who comes up to her, meanwhile, gets not only a selfie but a conversation. “Little children! I must attend to them,” she says, apologizing for running off in the middle of a conversation. An eleven-year-old girl sheepishly tells Swift she’s from New Jersey. “I spent the summers going down to the Jersey Shore,” says Swift and poses for four apparently blurry selfies before gently taking the phone from the girl’s hand. “You’re really bad at this,” Swift jokes, taking the photo herself. The girl is going to be at Z100’s Jingle Ball concert, where Swift is the closing performer, that night. “I go on really late,” Swift warns her. “Do you drink coffee?” The girl says she drinks Frappuccinos. “OK,” says Swift, “drink a Frappuccino and you might be able to stay awake long enough to see me.”

“New York City, it’s good to be home! I’m Taylor,” says Swift. It’s shortly before midnight, and she’s standing onstage at Madison Square Garden addressing a screaming crowd of 17,000 as if she’s talking to one of her girlfriends on the phone. Dressed in red plaid high-waisted pants and a matching crop top, her hair feathered like Blondie-era Debbie Harry, she blazes through four hits before announcing that she has officially turned 25. “I know why you choose music—it’s because you want to escape from haters and frenemies,” Swift tells the crowd, instructing us to exchange nods of solidarity with our neighbors. “This is the last song of the night,” she continues. “No one’s gonna judge you for how you dance during this song. New York City, are you ready?” The place goes nuts.

Swift returns to her apartment well past midnight, orders sushi, and sets up a makeshift photo booth to host what seems like every famous person in music. She has invited all her fellow performers (Iggy Azalea, Charli XCX, Ariana Grande, Sam Smith, Nick Jonas), along with other friends ranging from Kloss to Abigail Anderson—Swift’s best friend since freshman year of high school in suburban Hendersonville, Tennessee—to Justin Timberlake and Jay Z and Beyoncé. “I have, like, 20 different people flying in,” Swift had told me the day before. “My friends are staying in every room.” Her mother, Andrea, however—who flew in from Nashville earlier laden with decorations now draped over mirrors and mantels, with every window in the place (I lose count at fifteen) garlanded as well—isn’t there. “I think a twenty-fifth birthday, no mother should be there,” Andrea told me. “You need to know when to step away.”

The next time I catch up with Swift, she’s still in her PJs at 11:15 on a perfect sunny January morning at her house in Beverly Hills. In the month since I saw her turn 25 she’s become the proud owner of a bejeweled necklace (a birthday gift from Dunham) bearing the image of her kitten Olivia; danced like crazy with Beyoncé and the Haim sisters at a Justin Timberlake concert in Brooklyn; bought the shirt off Hugh Jackman’s back (giving $6,000 to the Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS charity in the process) while seeing him perform on Broadway with her family; sent out a large batch of gift packages to her fans, one of which included a Swift painting of flowers and a check for $1,989 to help pay off a student loan; and rung in the New Year onstage in Times Square in front of a million people live and a billion more on TV and the Web. Since she’s been out West, though, she’s been doing what she can to catch up with friends, including “a lot of cooking nights,” hiking with Lorde, and wandering around Catalina Island eating ice cream with her girlfriends and her dad. When Lorde sounded stressed about going to the Golden Globes, Swift showed up in support wearing a bright-yellow dress (in honor of Lorde’s nominated song, “Yellow Flicker Beat”). “We just turned it into a girls’ night,” Swift says over the phone.

For both today and the foreseeable future, though, Swift is going to be all business getting ready for the 1989 world tour, which kicks off May 5 in Tokyo. There’s a set list to finalize, and wardrobe and production design to approve, and choreography to learn. She insists she’s not nearly as awkward a dancer as she pretends to be in the “Shake It Off” video: “If I get serious about choreography, I will learn it and I’ll do it correctly—most of the time,” she says.

Looking back on what’s been both a tumultuous and momentous time in her life, Swift says she and her family “had a lot of moments where we would look at each other and say, ‘Wow—I can’t believe people got it.’ You only hope for things like this.” She’s been trying to take it all as it comes. “I don’t get so caught up in the work that I don’t appreciate the crazy, incredible, astonishing, joyous success that’s happened,” she says. “Putting pressure on yourself is good, but putting unnecessary stress on yourself is bad—so I don’t worry that I haven’t started the next record yet. I don’t worry that I don’t know what it’s going to be. I’m not worried that I have absolutely no timetable as to when it needs to be done. It could be two years from now; it could be three, it could be four. Or it could be one. You get these bursts of inspiration right at the moment you’re not expecting to. You just have to live your life, and hopefully you’ll take the right risks.”

Kloss, for her part, has been maintaining the kind of schedule that would seem to require its own air-traffic controller. After a short break back home in St. Louis, she’s been back and forth to Paris twice in early January alone as part of her new job as a L’Oréal Paris spokesperson; to the Florida Keys for a Bruce Weber shoot; and to L.A. and Paris again for L’Oréal. Next up: back to L.A. for the Oscars before ramping up for Fashion Weeks in New York, Milan, and Paris. “In moderation it can be really fun,” says Kloss, who’s cut the 60 shows she used to walk at the start of her career down to a fraction of that. “For me, runway is an opportunity to perform.”

She’s also practically bursting to tell me some big news: She’s been accepted to NYU’s Gallatin School of Individualized Study. (NYU alum Christy Turlington Burns wrote her letter of recommendation.) “I was waiting for the mail to arrive every single day,” she says. “It’s something that I’ve wanted to do for a very long time.” Kloss doesn’t yet know what she’ll study; for now, she’s just excited to be taking classes. “I’ll still be working full-time,” she says. “I’m incredibly ambitious and have lots of goals within my career that I’m not slowing down on anytime soon.”

Swift says she and her friends don’t talk much about work. “The fun thing about my friends is that they don’t necessarily know a lot about what I do business-wise,” she says. The first time Kloss ever saw Swift pick up a guitar and noodle around on it was during the photo shoot for this story. “I’m not one of those singers who’s always like, ‘Look at me!’ ” says Swift. “I’m not the person who grabs the guitar at a party and wants all the attention. I have attention on me enough, so I want my friends to just like me because we have things in common rather than me sitting in a corner being like, ‘Listen to this song that I wrote about my life!’ ”

No matter how busy they are, though, Swift and Kloss continue to make time for each other. Swift recently had Kloss over to her place for a night of cooking pasta with model Martha Hunt, stylist Ashley Avignone, and Tavi Gevinson. A few days later that same group went to dinner at Ralph Lauren’s restaurant, the Polo Bar, in midtown. (“The French fries were delicious,” says Kloss.)

Kloss says that bringing together disparate women from different industries may be Swift’s most unsung talent. “I’ve met a lot of really great girls through Taylor. She’s incredible at connecting people who might not normally meet. We’re all in different jobs, but we’ve become strong friends who are there for each other—a sisterhood of girls, a support team. But we’re also just normal 20-something girls, and I think you have to have people that you can be that with. You know, real friends are hard to find—and Taylor’s a real friend. There’s nothing better.”

All Black Everything

Dressing in all black can be super chic. The trick to pulling off any monochrome look without appearing bland or boring is by incorporating texture. By mixing and matching, these 11 basic pieces can be all you’ll ever need for an entire wardrobe.

1. Leather Jacket

Left (save): Bagatelle Faux-Leather Moto Jacket
Right (splurge): Michael Kors Asymmetric Zipper Leather Jacket

2. Jersey Maxi Dress

Left (save): Topshop Plain Low Back Maxi Dress
Right (splurge): Bobi Black Label Maxi Tank Dress

3. Fur/Shearling Vest

Left (save): Aria Shearling Vest
Right (splurge): Andoni Rabbit Fur Vest

4. Cropped Cotton Tank

Left (save): Pacsun Cropped Black Tank
Right (splurge): Nasty Gal Muscle Beach Crop Tee

5. Perforated Tee

Left (save): Harlowe and Graham Perforated Tee
Right (splurge): Generation Love Mona Perforated Tee

6. Silk Blouse

Left (save): Neiman Marcus Boxy Silk Blouse
Right (splurge): Equipment Brett Button-Up

7. Long-line Blazer

Left (save): Banana Republic Draped Black Blazer
Right (splurge): Pinko Black Blazer

8. High-waisted Jeans 

Left (save): ASOS Rivington High Waist Denim Jeggings
Right (splurge): Blk Dnm High Waist Skinny Jeans

9. Distressed Shorts

Left (save): Nasty Gal Due West Cutoff Shorts
Right (splurge): Ksubi Shorts

10. Pointed-Toe Suede Pumps

Left (save): Jeffrey Campbell Darling Suede Pump
Right (splurge): Saint Laurent Paris Suede Pointed-Toe Pump

11. Leather Combat Boots

Left (save): Steve Madden Troopa
Right (splurge): Prada Lace-Up Leather Combat Boot


This fashion post lovingly crafted for you by:
Rosalyn L. 
Fashion Marketing Contributor at Wantering
Currently coveting the classic Ray-Ban Clubmasters
@rosalyn_lin


Is minimal your style? You’ll love these simple, chic, feminine pieces we’ve curated for you in our minimal fashion essentials feature on Wantering.

Nash Imagine- You're My Lobster

Nash

You and Nash had been semi friends for awhile. You only saw him when he visited from CA to NE, but you had grown close talking the last couple weeks. Tonight you were going to see him at a party and you wanted to look your best. You put on a black body con tank dress, a jean shrug, and your nude pumps. You decided to leave your hair wavey, do a bit of a smokier eyeshadow, and throw on some red lipstick. You grabbed your phone, wallet, and keys and went to pick up your best friends Sam and Nate. Usually your roommate would come too, but she had early morning work and decided to opt out.

“Hey dudes,” you said as Sam slid in the back and Nate rode shotgun.
“Damn,” Nate said admiring your outfit. Sam scooted forward to look.
“Why you dressed all fine?” Sam asked
“Is it because Nash is gonna be there?” Nate asked.
“No,” you quickly and miserably lied.
“You dirty dog,” Sam smiled.
You turned up the music, shook your head, and smiled. You had Mac Miller bumpin on the auxiliary and started rapping and jamming along earning applause from the two guys.
When you got to the party, you found Gilinsky, Johnson, Cameron, and Nash.
“Look at this fine dime,” Johnson said.
“Hey, loser,” you laughed and hugged him.
“Hey, y/n!” Gilinsky said and stumbled into a hug.
“Hey, Gilinsky! Why don’t you go drink another, I don’t think you’ve had enough,” you laughed.
“What’s up, girl?” Cam said.
“I didn’t know you were gonna be here!”
“Hey, babygirl,” Nash said grabbing you and twirling you around. You smiled and bit your lip. They got you all drinks and you decided to dance. You got up and were followed by Cam of all people to dance to some club mix of “Bang Bang”. When the song was over you went back over to Nash, stumbled and fell into his lap. You grabbed another cup nearby and started drinking. “I really don’t think you need that,” Nash laughed. You guys sat there for awhile while everyone caught up. All of a sudden Nash’s hand started creeping up your thigh, nearly under your dress. “Nash,” you looked at him sternly, “not here.” “Wanna go back to the hotel? There’s no way you’re driving home,” he asked. You shook your head yes and he stood up. “Hey, Cam, I’m gonna go back to the hotel,” Nash called to him. “Yeah, I’ll be right there,” Cam called back and you a said your goodbyes. Sammy and Nate smiled and shook their heads at you, they knew exactly what was gonna happen.
Nash had called a taxi to take you all back to the hotel. “Why is she coming back?” Cam asked. “She’s way too drunk to drive,” Nash answered. The rest of the ride was silent. When you got up to their room, Nash gave you one of his flannel shirts to wear and you went into the bathroom to change. It was long enough to cover your ass and vag and that was good enough for you. When you walked out Nash’s jaw dropped and then he bit his lip. Cam had already laid down and was staring at his phone. You crawled into bed making sure Cam wasn’t paying attention and let your ass hang out in your black lace underwear. You looked so hot in that outfit. Nash turned out the light and got undressed till he was only in his boxers. When you both thought Cam was asleep, that’s when he made his move. Nash started kissing your neck, making you moan. “Oh, Nash,” you said. “Shh, baby, you don’t wanna wake him up,” Nash smiled. He reached his hand in between your legs and started rubbing your clit, you bit your lip trying not to make any noises. Then he slid his boxers off and in buttoned your top. “God, you look so damn fucking hot right now,” he groaned. He slid your underwear and bra off and started teasing your nipples. “Nash, stop teasing and just fuck me,” you whispered and he pushed himself in between your legs. He started pumping faster. “Harder, babe,” you said trying not to moan. He started going harder and the headboard hit the wall. He started kissing your lips and moaned a bit into your mouth. You felt your orgasm creeping up. “Fuck,” you yelled and threw your head back,“Nash, oh fuck!” He came, too,“Fuck, y/n.” His thrusts got sloppy and he pulled out and rolled onto his side. You put his flannel back on as he put his boxers on. All of a sudden the lamp on Cam’s side flicked on. “I didn’t want to interrupt, so now will one of you throw me one of the extra pillows,” Cam said,“ Also, if you could refrain from doing that before you’re sure I’m asleep or in the same room as me ever again, that would be fucking super,” and he turned off the lamp. You threw him the pillow and laid back by Nash and cuddled into him. “You’re the best,” he said and kissed your head. “You’re pretty cool too, Nashy,” you smiled. “Is it weird to say you’re my lobster?” he laughed. “Not at all,” you smiled and kissed his lips. You both fell asleep.

The end.

I might continue this into the next day as a part two if this gets enough notes.