#easy haltering

[sandra-hippologic]

Move Your Horse with Positive Reinforcement!

The 2024 program starts in May 2024. Enrollment is OPEN!Here is what the program looks like and what the 4 trimesters in the HippoLogic Clicker Training Academy offer. We learn by repetition and every time we’ll go through the basics, you’ll learn more, see more and understand more. Each level in your education will have it’s own challenges: the more you know, the more you’ll understand that…

[anielskaaniela]

🌸✨ Get Ready to Sew in Style! Introducing my Latest Tutorial: Loose Fit Sleeveless Halter Neck Top with a Twist! ✨🌸

Hey there! Are you ready to dive into another exciting sewing adventure? We've got something special lined up just for you. Say hello to my brand-new tutorial featuring the gorgeous Loose Fit Sleeveless Halter Neck Top with a twist! 🌟✂️

🧵🌼 In this tutorial, I'll guide you step by step through the process of creating your very own chic and comfy halter neck top. And guess what? I'm spicing things up with a unique twist detail that adds that extra charm to your creation. The best part? I'm providing a free PDF pattern to make your sewing journey even smoother and more enjoyable.

Whether you're a seasoned sewing pro or a beginner eager to dip your toes into the world of DIY fashion, this tutorial is tailor-made for you. It's all about self-expression and creating pieces that reflect your individual style. 🌈👗

So, are you ready to rock this Loose Fit Sleeveless Halter Neck Top with a twist? Get those sewing machines revved up and let's stitch together! Stay tuned for the full tutorial, and remember to follow, like, and share the love. Happy sewing, lovelies! 🌸🧵💖

😁LINK

[stylecards]

Kalyani in tight black spandex by Stylecards Via Flickr: In a change from her usual pink outfits, Kalyani is trying out something tight and black.

[laurasimonsdaughter]

“The first thing you need to know,” the stable master announced loudly to the gaggle of school children trailing behind her, “is that these are not unicorns.”

Eleven-year-olds tended to be loud. Their silent scepticism was deafening.

“You cannot keep unicorns in captivity,” she continued. “These are all crossbreeds, mostly with specific breeds of horses.”

There was a small murmur of curiosity and a gangly arm shot up into the air.

“Yes?”

“Only mostly horses?”

It was always fun when some of them paid close attention. “Only mostly horses. I only deal with European breeds, and they tend to cross well with horses. See this here is a cross between a grey Thoroughbred and an English Unicorn. They’re large, and reasonably docile.” They also had that champagne sheen most showy folk preferred. “For people who come here looking for a steed, this is their best bet. Although I've only ever seen it done by people who personally broke them as yearlings.”

By now she definitely had the whole class’s full attention.

“But this French Licorne cross is actually half fallow deer.” She gestured to the pasture beyond the fence. “Look at them. Slight build, slender legs, built for speed and agility. They need a lot of space but they are beautiful to look at, and they’re relatively easy to tame for the pure of heart.” There was still something distinctly deer-like about them and they were all so beautifully cream coloured that they almost took on a silver hue.

“What’s those hairy ones?” a voice piped up.

“That’s a Unicorno/Shetland mix, from central Italy. Traditionally they tend to be crossed with Monterufolino, but they are hard to come by and make their coats even darker.” Unicorni were naturally built more like ponies, some with considerably shorter horns, and their coats were often a much darker gold, or even brown. They were less flighty than the French breeds though, even if they showed blatant favouritism towards certain caretakers. They would even pull a carriage if properly motivated.

“Do you have any bigger ones?”

The stable master turned around. “What was that?”

One of the boys was standing behind her with a determined look on his face. “Do you have any like that but bigger. With the beards and the furry hooves.”

“Feathering,” she corrected automatically and the boy nodded eagerly. She frowned. “What exactly do you mean?”

“There’s really big unicorns,” he pressed. “With wild manes and tails and split hooves like the French ones but hair like those ones!”

“Buddy,” she laughed, “what you’re describing there is a Scottish unicorn and let me tell you, they cannot even be crossbred into domestication.”

The little face fell.

“Any offspring of an Aon-adharcach will be as wild as they are no one can capture them with their horn still intact, not on your life. You go near one of them with a halter and it will skewer you.”

She smiled at the boy, who still looked rather taken aback, despite this proof of his favourites superiority.

“Tell you what. If you want to see something unhinged and imposing, I’ll take you to see the Eenhoorn/Friesian cross we’ve just got in from the Netherlands.”

[hedgehog-moss]

The first episode of our shearing saga ended with Poldine being freed and happily running towards her family (who, let me remind you, had abandoned her and refused to provide any emotional support during her first ever shearing.)

I followed her, hoping to snap pictures of a heartwarming family reunion. Which didn't happen. Poldine's mum and grandma mostly looked perplexed.

Then horrified.

Poldine was, understandably, driven to existential despair by her mother's reaction to her new haircut.

Needless to say, when I tried to catch Pampérigouste to shear her, it was next to impossible. She knew what awaited her and wouldn't go anywhere near me, even when I made the Muesli Whistle (which usually draws a Pavlovian response out of her), even when I threw a handful of actual muesli in her direction to attract her. If anything she looked vexed that I could think she was no smarter than a pigeon.

But I have a PhD in catching Pampe. I decided to try something I'd never tried before: lie in wait by the watering hole like a hyena. You see, there's a gate near the water trough that can open all the way in either direction, and I figured I could simply trap my llama between the gate and a tree.

I waited, I waited, and eventually, finally, Pampe got thirsty.

Once she was trapped behind the gate it was very easy to halter her, and then she grumpily followed me to the corral, where I tied her to a post to shear her.

As soon as I switched on the electric shears, she freaked out. She reared up like a wild stallion, started foaming at the mouth, desperately pulling on the rope, it was awful! I tried to turn on the shears some distance away then get progressively closer when she got used to the noise, but she didn't get used to the noise. I tried to sing her favourite protest song over the noise, I tried everything; she kept acting like I was an exorcist and she was possessed by a swarm of demons. Eventually I thought I should just start shearing and get it over with as quickly as possible.

Pampe was so good with the llama shearer two years ago! She was perfectly calm and relaxed! She didn't care at all about the noise of the shears even when they were right behind her ears!! What is the explanation for this?

(when I expressed surprise at her good behaviour with the shearer back then, someone said she reminded them of the type of brat who's well-behaved with their teacher at school but insufferable with their parents)

Pampoldine stayed right next to her mum the whole time her ordeal lasted. Poldine, you are too good for this world.

These are my only two photos of Pampe being shorn, because my photographer was busy trying to soothe her by petting her, or distract her by offering her a hazel branch to eat. At some point Pampe tried to lie down and play dead, which made shearing her neck complicated, so my photographer was promoted (or demoted?) to Llama Scaffolding—she had to lean against Pampe with all her weight to prevent her from lying down. The last time I'd seen a llama play dead was when Pyrgus was sent away, which was pretty heartbreaking...

(Pampe possibly expected to receive the same amount of sympathy, but we had to remind her that Pyrgus was a child being separated from his mother forever while she was an adult getting a haircut.)

Since I sheared her as fast as I could, Pampe looks worse than her daughter—much less smooth, with some remaining woolly spots here and there that I wasn't able to go back to because she kept shaking her head, kicking her feet, squirming and generally acting like she was being tortured. It's now clear to me that she was only well-behaved last time out of spite, because I'd warned the shearer that I had one Difficult Llama. I sort of already suspected it at the time:

Please note that as soon as I released her, all the fuss and drama ended. In an instant. I thought she was going to jump away from me when I took off her halter, and run like hell, or stand there shaking from stress, but no—she ate a few hazel leaves from the branch (no longer panting, no longer drooling) then scratched her neck with her back hoof looking very composed, then trotted away lightly and happily.

[fairyeunji]

I love le sserafim so much but seeing facilities where people can ride horses like that always makes me mad

[giuseppe-yuki]

feathers

alex albon x cockatiel shapeshifter! reader

w.c.: 1.2k

warnings: one suggestive comment

part of my shapeshifting!reader series

summary: you annoy alex; ft. james vowles

picture credits from pinterest :)

the parc ferme was packed with people as you fluttered around alex’s head, feathers swaying in the wind. he wasn’t hard to follow, considering his tall 6’1 figure and unmistakable forest green aa23 hoodie. the crowds parted like moses and the red sea as he crossed, recognizing him as 1 of the 20 drivers on the grid. from your birds-eye view, you were pretty sure you saw zak efron five meters away from you next to the red bull garage and scotty james hovering around daniel’s blue vcarb next door.

nobody batted an eye at your presence- they all assumed you were just one of the many albon pets. 

chittering, you land on alex’s shoulder and give him a few hard pecks with your beak, ripping out a few strands of his bleached hair. you giggle internally- he was so easy to annoy when you were in cockatiel form. 

“hey!” he protests, stopping in his tracks front of the aston martin garage. he raises his hand, about to forcefully push you off his shoulder for being mean. before alex is able to, he spots two young fans, sporting fernando alonso caps, looking at him. not wanting to be labeled as “alex albon the bird assaulter,” he slowly lowers his hand, and instead converts it to an awkward wave. to avoid another awkward situation, he takes off running towards his original destination, the williams garage, but not before shooting a glare at you. 

when you arrive at the williams garage, you find logan standing in front as well. alex waves his hand in greeting and you chirp in a greeting.

“took you long enough,” logan quips, smiling. “james called for you a while ago!” 

“well, i would have gotten here quicker if this cockatiel would stop being irritating!” alex says, gesturing towards you. turning his head towards you, he places a kiss on top of your feathery little head. “you’re kinda lucky that i love you, or else i would probably have donated you to the zoo!” he jokes. 

for the second time that evening, you give peck his head, hard.

logan laughs at the interaction in front of him. “if you’d like, i know a hawk that can act as ‘animal control’ for you! she’s back at home in miami right now, though.”

the gall of this man! you know logan is joking, but still, you hop off of alex’s shoulder and purposely fly at logan’s face, flapping your feathers in the direction of his eyes. 

“okay, okay, okay,” logan laughs, trying to cover his face, “tell your girlfriend to stop attacking me or else i’m sending my girlfriend after her when you guys come to the states!”

ten minutes later, when you enter the air-conditioned williams motorhome, you are dressed in a flowy white pants and a williams blue silk halter top. you loop your arm through alex’s as he asks his race strategist the whereabouts of his team principal. 

 when he finishes with his conversation, he leads you towards his driver’s room 

“i thought you came here to meet james,” you question, looking up at alex.

“yeah, i did,” he responds, “but apparently he had to have a quick meeting with the engineers and will find me later, so i guess we have a little time to rest in my driver’s room before the race.” a flashes a devilish smile and little wink at you.

a flash of shock runs across your face, and you shoot him a dirty glare. “we are NOT doing that in your drivers room.” 

“what do you mean?” he replies innocently, “ when i said rest, i meant that we could maybe chill on the couch and watch a little bit of high school musical- i saw you looking at zac efron in parc ferme earlier.”

you groan exasperatedly, but follow him into the small room. 

when you first started dating alex, he was always ever the gentleman, complimenting you and whispering sweet things into your ear when you were with him. you trusted him with all your heart, and instead of freaking out when you told him that you could shapeshift into a cockatiel, he immediately started researching info about cockatiels and began carrying sunflower seeds around for you. as time passed, your relationship evolved into a loop of you bullying alex in bird form and him teasing you nonstop in public. (he obviously still knew your limit though, and was always the sweetest behind closed doors)

you hop on the couch as alex navigates to disney+ on the tv and starts the movie. he places his arm around your shoulder and leans his head against yours. you curl up into him, breathing in the smell of him. to your disappointment, within in the first twenty minutes, alex is dead asleep on the couch. you frown, lifting his arm off of you. you were about the shake him awake when you came up with a brilliant idea. 

turning back into your cockatiel form, you shake off your loose feathers onto the couch. you smile to yourself. alex hated when you left your feathers everywhere. you pick up a feather or two with your beak, and place it strategically on the floor. one on the couch hand rest, three on alex’s head, two behind the couch (when you placed those, you found a giant glossy picture of george russell behind the couch?? you’ll have to talk to him about that later). after arranging the finishing touches, you nudge alex’s cheek with your feathery head to wake him up. as soon as he opens his sleepy eyes, he immediately sees the absolute mess you made everywhere. but before he could say a word, a knock sounds from the door. 

“alex, it’s james,” says the voice outside the door.

alex’s eyes widen, and (screw his ultra-quick reflexes) proceeds to quickly snatch you off of his lap and unceremoniously shoves you inside a nearby drawer. he slides it shut, except for a little crack so you could breathe.

oh you were gonna kill him.

you hear the door open, and footsteps into the room. 

“hey, says james, “so i was gonna come here to talk to you about a chassis problem, but i think that it would be better if we could talk about it as a team in a meeting after the race. i was going to send you an email about it, but since i was passing by your drivers room, i just wanted to pop in in-person to let you know.” 

you hop towards the crack and raise an eye to see through. alex is standing awkwardly, half in front of the coach with his hands next to his sides, pointedly trying to block the mess of feathers on the couch. 

“err.. yeah! of course!” your boyfriend says. 

as if just noticing the feathers all over the couch, james raises an eyebrow. “did you kill a bird in here or are you making an art project?” he asks, looking at alex with an incredulous look. 

“art project,” alex responds, almost immediately.

“okay.” james says, in a tone that suggested he didn’t really believe alex. he turns to leave, hand on the handle. but before he does, he turns around. “wait a second, i could have sworn logan said that you were in here with your girlfriend?”

a/n: second installment of the series! ( i wrote this at 3am) if you didn't get the george russell picture reference, here's a link to a video that i watched: link

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso

[gothoffspring]

Hey y'all! I've really felt like making more cc lately, but I'm determined to upload some more of my completed recolors before I hop into any new projects. Here we have two summer themed recolors, a dress and a jumpsuit! Details, credits and download links below the cut.

DETAILS:

These are recolors of @joliebean's jungle dress and @akalukery's plunge halter jumpsuit. Mesh is included thanks to the original creators generous tou's, but I recommend you check out and download the originals as well.

the dress has 15 swatches and the jumpsuit has 12, various summer themed patterns for both.

Both have custom thumbnails for the first swatch.

You can see an unedited in-game photo of some more swatches right here.

these definitely aren't perfect recolors, but honestly I think they work just fine and I liked how they ended up so I figured I'd share.

P.S sorry that i'm never going to use any other preview style for CAS cc, it's just too easy to use this template and I do not have the energy to do proper previews anymore especially if i'm going to be uploading a bunch of stuff, which i plan to!

CREDIT:

thank you to joliebean and akalukery for their generous tou's and for the original meshes.

Patterns found via freepik, vecteezy, spoonflower, maybe a few from colourlovers/google. All credit goes to the original creators for their lovely patterns!

DL: MF / SFS

@mmfinds @alwaysfreecc

[cowboymeemaw]

Please tell the story of the calf scramble 👀👀 (and may you have a lovely day!)

Of course, and you too! (Apologies for the late answer I was working)

So this is Rugz! He was my calf scramble steer!

But that's the end- to start I'll explain loosely what a calf scramble is (loosely as some rules and prizes change per rodeo/fair)

A calf scramble is an event where those who are of age and showmen can compete. As example from my own there are six competitors (numbers can and will change depending on the year, and they are allowed to compete year after year until they win). Each competitor is equipped with a helmet & halter.

As with the competitors, the amount of calves different ever year. It's dependent on the amount of people, for me it was Three calves. Each calf was born January of the same year and this even takes place in early august, which places them in a weight range of 400-500lbs (so not tiny guys).

So what do you do? Well, you're placed in an arena (mine roughly the 3/4ths the size of an American football field). You and the other participants are lined up at one end and there is a small circle in the middle. When the even starts the calves are released at the other side of the area.

When a bell is rang, all participants run at the calves. The goal of this event is to catch one of these calves, get your halter on it, and then get all four of their feet in the middle circle.

As an explanation this sounds easy, but in reality it's not. The arena floor is wetted down to mud, and all the calves released are untouched by humans, large, and dangerous. You must grab them by the neck, as you and the calf are running through mud, then halter it, then get it in the circle.

And finally, if you do successfully do all of that. You win! Now unlike most places, at my rodeo, when you win you actually win the steer itself! The calf is given to you a week after the event, and you are required to raise it for a year then bring it to show at the same place you won it from!

In 2022 I ended up winning the Calf scramble during my first attempt at it. As pictured above I won a beautiful Charolais cross steer (who actually was quoted to be worth 5k)

I had fought tooth and nail to win. Every year from child to then I had watched the event, year after year waiting to compete. My sister competed and unfortunately lost. But my mother, my grandfather, and his father are all deeply rooted in this fair and rodeo, and I knew I had to win for them, and for myself.

I was the first one to get my hands on a calf, and It was nothing like I could have expected. It was harsh and difficult but I held on, but that beautiful shit head of a Charolais had other plans. As I attempted to get my halter on, he bolted. Running me into another competitor and flinging me off of him. I was exhausted, ready to give up, I told myself there was always next year. But I was angry, angry at myself and embarrassed for being knocked off. So I got up and ran, I chased that calf with my entire being. And in one final attempt, I dove at him.

And that's how I got this photo.

I had caught him, again. I wasn't going to wait, and as soon as I was on my feet again I put the halter on him. Then I was knocked down again, someone else who caught one ran into me. I refused to let go, I laid there, head one inch away from being kicked by a feral calf. But I clung on until I could stand.

I stood up, exhausted and I pulled that halter. Painstakingly slowly me and this calf moved, inches closer to the circle. When I got about three feet away he put his breaks on, nothing I did worked. He wouldn't move, and I was tired. So tired and worn out, the adrenaline wearing off and the pain in my body finally striking through. I almost gave up.

I remember thinking, "would they be mad at me if I gave up now?". And then he took a step back, and the my brain finally slowed down to remember one important thing my step-dad told me. My step-dad who never touched a cow in his life before meeting me.

"if you catch one, go where it goes, you can't put strength a cow."

So I did. I walked back with him, and then turned him around and he stook all four steps into that circle.

I had won.

[mattslolita]

thriller - c. & m. sturniolo ( 001. )

in which ... you find out the truth about your best friends and their secret on halloween night, under the full moon.

( vampire!chris & black!fem!reader & vampire!matt )

warnings ; blood, death, suggestive, angst, fighting, two separate endings ( matt version, chris version )

"𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

the sun was close to the horizon, almost setting on the west side of the continent. the leaves crunched underneath the shoes of eager children and restless teens, and the soft hum of the october breeze promised a very eventful evening for everyone — halloween was your favorite holiday for this exact reason.

fall was your favorite season, anyway — it was cozy, and the vibes were immaculate in your opinion, which you loved. but the days leading up to halloween are what excited you the most, buying candy to trick or treat and fun parties you'd get invited to. dressing up was one of the best parts as well, cause it was the one night of year where you could wear whatever the hell you wanted without the shame of others. but regardless of halloween, you wore whatever you wanted anyway.

your best friends were having the halloween party this year, just like they had last year — it was somewhat a new tradition of theirs, but you weren't complaining, especially with how big their house was. it sat on a lot of land, and you deemed them pretty much rich.

they were humble though, and more often than you'd like to admit you spent most of your time there with the three triplets brothers — nick was the oldest, and you completely adored him. you'd never say it in front of the other two, but nick had always been your favorite. you loved how easy it had been to talk to him about any and everything, and you were grateful having found such an amazing best friend.

then, there were the other two brothers — matt and chris.

they were your best friends too, of course, but things were slightly more complicated when it came to those two. everything was platonic between you and them, but you wouldn't deny the obvious attraction you felt towards both of the siblings. matt was gentle and understanding with you, always so patient as well. you loved that he was like that with you, which is what attracted you to him. with chris, you'd feel comfortable talking to him about anything — he also brought out the goofier side of you, whilst also putting you on a pedestal and treating you like you were the only girl ever. which is how you constantly found yourself second guessing your relationship with the two of them.

you were sat at your vanity mirror, applying the last bit of makeup to complete your costume — horror movies had always been your favorite, so naturally, you had to dress as one of your favorite slashers.

the eyeliner wing you had finished sat perfectly in place as you grinned at your reflection — the dark red, glittery eye shadow sparkled back at you. you stood up and smoothed out the black leather skirt that rode up your bare, brown thighs accompanied by the black and red striped halter top with sleeves. the final piece was the brown hat that sat atop of your knotless box braids, creating your look — freddy krueger.

nightmare on elm street were one of your favorites, and you had already done ghostface last year — besides, you know you'd get lucky tonight with how good you looked.

the triplet brother's party started soon, so you hurriedly sprayed some perfume on yourself before walking around your desk and to your bed where your small, black juicy couture handbag laid waiting for you.

you took your phone from the dresser and checked the time, seeing it was eight o'clock. a grin overtook your features as you could hear footsteps of children outside — when you walked over to the window, the sky had darkened and a cozy, yet mysterious wind whistled throughout the streets of boston.

with your handbag on your shoulder, you exited your room towards the living room where your younger brother sat with your dad, a bowl of candy sat in between as a film was playing on the flat screen tv.

"woah, y/n!" your brother said with wide eyes, causing you to giggle as you do a spin.

"honey, you sure you wanna go out of the house like that?" your dad asks you, concern lacing his voice as he skims over your outfit, "you sure you'll be okay? you got that pepper spray i got you?"

"dad, why do i need pepper spray when i took that pocket knife from the cabinet?" you accidentally admitted, making his eyes widen.

"you what?"

"nevermind, i'm gonna be fine, okay?" you say quickly, a smile gracing your features as you walked over to both of them. you planted a kiss to your dad's head, then kissed your brother's cheek. "i'll call you if anything happens. have fun!"

"you too!" your brother called after you, waving to you as you wave back cheekily and head out of the house.

the warm nighttime breeze carried a precarious, yet exciting aura as you began to walk down the street — the laughter of the young children have already rang throughout the streets, accompanied by various shouts of "trick or treat!". you smiled at the kids dressed in whatever their hearts desired, enjoying this autumn night with nothing to offer but tricks and treats to all.

the trek to the sturniolo household wasn't too far, as it was the only house down the road that sat alone. as you approached the end of the road where they lived, you could make out the silhouettes of multiple people having arrived already, a lot of them carrying different drinks with them.

excitedly, you make your way up the long driveway in front of you, stopping to greet some people that you recognized — psycho killer by the talking heads blasted throughout the entirety of the house, causing an excited thrill to course through your body; that was definitely picked out by matt, who knew it to be one your favorite 80s songs.

"y/n, you look so good!" a girl dressed as carrie complimented you as you walked inside of the large home.

"girl, you look good too!" you said back.

you looked around the house for the culprits of the party throwing, having not seen them at the moment. the house was decorated with spider webs that lined random areas, with multicolored lights that spilled onto the ceiling. you frowned as your hand rested on your hip, finding it weird that the three boys were nowhere to be found.

"hi y/n," a blonde girl dressed as cher horowitz suddenly says from behind you, causing you to jump a little as you turn to face her.

"oh...hi?" you say, confusion lacing your features. you've never seen this girl in your life honestly, so it was weird how she knew your name.

"nick, matt, and chris told me to keep an eye on you," she tells you, her gaze never wandering as she looks you in the eye.

almost as if she's under some kind of hypnosis?

"um that's sweet, but i don't need nobody to watch me," you tell her sweetly, attempting to walk away.

"stay inside the house, at the party," she tells you, her eyes narrowing and her voice stern.

now, you weren't one to take kindly to people telling you what to do — but for some reason, you felt a little weary at the fact that the triplets had someone watching you, for some reason. maybe they knew something you didn't?

"okay," you nod to her slowly, and she perks up and smiles. she imitates the gesture of having her eyes on you, before she walks away and disappears into the growing crowd of people.

as strange as you felt the interaction to be, you were not about to let it ruin your mood — you went to the nearest table with drinks, deciding on pouring yourself some pink whitney to start you off for the night.

"omg y/n, come here!" some girls from your class squealed, crowding around you as finished pouring your drink.

"hey, y'all!" you say cheerily, holding your cup up and blowing slightly, "i'm finna get so fucked up, i swear."

"I feel you on that one," one girl agrees with you, tipping her cup back as she empties its remnants into her mouth, "let's dance!"

the girls grab your hand just as candy by doja cat reverberates throughout the speakers of the mansion — you let yourself get loose, enjoying how you look in your costume as well as the electric energy flowing through you, and it wasn't just the drink.

an hour had passed by, and you had only had three drinks — you didn't necessarily need to get shit faced to have fun, so you didn't mind it. two guys had already tried flirting with you and playfully gave them the time of day.

but something else was plaguing your mind.

you hadn't seen your best friends at all so far, and it was especially weird considering this was their party. it also made you kind of sad that it seemed like they didn't seem to be looking for you, either. you also wanted to tell them about how great the party was, but they were nowhere to be found.

you slipped away from the dancing crowd, deciding that you were going to find them alone — didn't anyone else find it weird that they couldn't find their hosts?

everybody by the backstreet boys could now be heard, and you looked around to see if you could spot that blonde from earlier anywhere nearby. to your fortune, you were able to slip out the back door without her spotting you.

you smoothed your skirt once again, sighing longingly as you stood on the back patio of the huge mansion. you looked around, and it was slightly comforting that you were the only one outside aside from a couple messily making out near one of the trees nearby.

the mansion was in front of the woods, creating a horror movie kind of aesthetic to their home. you smiled to yourself at the thought, thinking that this whole setting would be perfect for one if it ever came down to it.

a branch snapping caused your head to whip towards the woods again, on high alert. you looked around, but nobody had been there.

looking behind you, you saw that nobody had followed you, so you cautiously began to walk towards the woods in front of you. a cold shiver runs down your spine as leaves prickle underneath your chunky platform boots, and the atmosphere suddenly turns eerie.

it was pitch black except for the party you left, which illuminated onto the creepy looking trees in your vision. a gulp rides down your throat when you reach the first set of trees.

another twig snaps, and your heart races wildly as you can hear your heart thumping in your ears as you continue the trek into the deeper part of the woods. it's eerily quiet, and you can't deny the goosebumps that crawl on your arms. but you were determined — you know that noise didn't just come randomly; you just prayed it wasn't some rogue animal that would come and eat you.

a breeze sifts past you, and you shudder and bring your arms up to run them over each other, feeling the fabric of the ripped halter top. looking up, your eyes have found the full moon — a twinge of red outlines it, casting a reddish glow upon the earth beneath it.

another breeze rushes past you again but this time, you swear you see a figure whiz past you too. rightfully feeling scared now, you turn around to try and catch the figure, but it seemed to have already vanished.

you probably would've been better off listening to the girl who tried to warn you, but you were too stubborn to really listen when you were supposed to.

another twig snaps, and you fully gasp now — you were sure of it now, there was definitely someone, or something that was there with you.

"is someone there?" you manage to say, your voice stern as you address the being who's trying to spook you. "this better not be some sick joke, i'm too sober for this shit."

another whoosh — but this time, the figure wasn't so careful trying to hide themselves, almost as if they wanted you to see them. your heart rate has increased beyond belief, you were sure it would leap out of your chest and onto the floor below you.

"hello?" your voice squeaks, less confident than before.

you make out hushed voices in the distance, causing chills to flood your body as you begin to back up — only, you bumped into a hard chest.

you gasp, but cold, yet familiar hands grip your arms, massaging your tense muscles. "y'know kid, you really should've listened to raleigh back there."

"c-chris?" your voice says, eyebrows furrowed as you turn around to face the man before you.

his cheeks are more sunk in than usual, face as pale as the moonlight above the two of you — his cheekbones are highly accentuated thanks to the moonlit glow. it isn't until he grins down at you, that you notice them.

the sharp, canine teeth that stare back at you.

"w-wha-"

you attempt to back up again, only to be met with yet another chest — the familiar ringed hand holds you in place as goosebumps ride up and down your skin.

"why'd you leave the party, y/n?" matt's voice asks, dangerously close to your ear.

"i just...needed to find you guys," you whisper, eyes still fixated on chris in front of you.

his primal gaze had raked your entire figure, drinking in the sight of your body and all of its curves in your costumes. he runs his tongue over his bottom set of teeth, eyeing you hungrily.

"can you control yourself, please?" matt says again, his grip on you easing only slightly, "when i let go of you y/n, you better not run. got it?"

you nod your head up and down, too focused on chris's gaze which has now darkened as he continues looking down at you — he clicks his tongue as he begins to take a few steps closer to you. "words, princess, we need words."

the nickname rolls off of his tongue so smoothly, embarrassingly having you weak in the knees. "okay."

matt releases his grip on you, your heart still pounding loudly as you take one step forward. slowly, you turn to face matt — his facial features mirror chris's, yet he looks down at you with concern and a sternness as he examines you.

"can one of you explain to me..." you breathe out, watching matt watch you, turning your insides to jelly, "...what's happening?"

chris chuckles from behind you, and you can tell he's shaking his head in disapproval — you hadn't meant to disobey what they asked of you, but your curiosity had gotten the best of you.

and it's how you currently found yourself in this predicament, second guessing everything you ever knew about your best friends.

a cold hand reaches up to massage the base of your shoulder from behind, and you suck in a sharp breath as you melt into chris's touch — his hand grips you firmly, gently tugging you back towards him.

"chris," matt warns, narrowing his icy blue eyes that are now tinged with a darkness.

"oh come on, matt," chris hisses, tilting your head as he moves your braids to the side, staring up at his brother tauntingly, "don't you wanna taste her?"

your eyes widen slightly as matt's gaze seemingly zeroes in over your exposed neck — he senses your vein before he can see it begin to show almost as if he'd hypnotized that part of your body to follow his command. darkness clouds the icy blue in his eyes as veins begin to show under his eyes — his canine teeth protrude out of his mouth as he stares with so much intensity you were almost certain you'd stumble over if it hadn't been for chris's relentless grip on you.

then it happens in the blink of an eye — matt's teeth sink into your exposed flesh.

the thing that surprises you most is not that your best friend had just exposed his supernatural abilities to you, but rather your reaction to it — a needy whimper escapes your throat as chris chuckles darkly from behind you, as matt feeds from the blood that flows through your veins.

a gasp sounds from your lips when matt pulls away, his cold, ringed hand swiping across his mouth as he sticks his middle finger in his mouth to suck off the rest of your sweet blood, whilst keeping eye contact with you.

"and look who couldn't control themselves?" chris taunts, swiping at your neck to get the last drop of your blood, a satisfied groan leaving his lips as he leans down to your ear, "tastes so sweet."

"fuck," matt says, his eyes having gone back to normal as he takes in your shocked and confused expression, "sorry about that, y/n."

"vampire..." you mutter, closing your eyes, "okay, i can live with this. what the actual fuck?"

"uh oh, i think someone's upset with us," chris tsks, causing you to snatch yourself out of grip as you whirl around to face him angrily.

"yeah, i'm mad as fuck," you suddenly hiss, prodding your pointer finger into his chest, "how long have you been keeping this a secret from me?"

"if i'm like one hundred and seven and matt's like one hundred and-"

"chris, i'm serious!" you say, narrowing your eyes at him, then you turn to see matt's guilty expression, "how could you guys keep something like this hidden from me?"

"do you not see what i just did to you, y/n?" matt says sternly, narrowing his eyes at you, motioning to his own neck, "this isn't exactly something you'd want someone you care about to be exposed to."

"even if y'know, you did like that bite," chris whispers in your ear, causing a tingle to go down your spine, "kinky y/n, i like it."

"shut up, christopher," you snap, causing him to put his arms up defensively, yet the hint of a smirk remained on his face. "why did you not feel like you could tell me about...this?"

"we didn't want to risk you looking at us differently," matt explains patiently, "it gets bad, y/n. when we first turned, it took a long time for us to get used to this side of ourselves — fighting the urges and having self restraint was hard when all we craved was the one thing you can't just normally going around feeding on."

you sighed knowingly, having watched the vampire diaries millions of times — only, now it was somewhat your reality. "matt, you know i wouldn't look at you differently. yes this is crazy as fuck, but you'd have to be heartless in order for me to ever hate you."

you smile softly and yank matt down to your level, pulling him in for a hug — you're pretty sure the bite on your neck was as tempting as ever with him being so close to it, but you were more or less focused on showing him your affection.

you pulled away, repeating the same actions with chris. he rests his arms on your lower back area, and you lean into his touch as you let out a sigh on content.

"now, where is nick?" you ask when you pull away from him, resting your hand on your hip.

"listening to this theatrical version of what simply could've been a 'hey y/n, we were turned into vampires about a hundred years ago, don't kill us with a stake please!'," a familiar voice says, before appearing right next to chris.

nick rolls his eyes at his brothers, before looking at you apologetically. "sorry for not telling you about it."

"i get why it was the last thing you wanted to do," you smile at nick softly, both chris and matt looking at you agape.

"so i get poked in my fuckin' chest and we get yelled back, but he practically gets a pat on the back?" chris says, "unbelievable."

"i'm sensing favoritsm," matt huffs, crossing his arms across his chest.

"i thought we already established a while ago that nick was my favorite?" you tease him, causing him to shake his head and scoff.

"what the fuck, are you kidding me?" nick says, his eyes narrowing on the mark on you neck. he walks towards you and examines it closely, before dragging a hand down his face, "which one of you two fucking idiots bit her?"

"imagine the shock when i tell you it was matt," chris snickers, nodding to the second oldest triplet brother.

nick whirls his head around to face matt, narrowing his eyes at him. "did you at least get her permission? if you weren't so careful next time, she could've-"

"yeah, i know, nick," matt glares, glancing over at you, "it's not something that's gonna happen again."

"if somehow you guys can't exactly feed like you need to, i'd be happy to help you, though," you offer, shrugging your shoulders, "as long as y'know, you don't bleed me dry."

"can't make any promises to that, ma," chris grins at you with a wink, causing you to roll your eyes.

"fuck, you're shivering," nick notices, looking upon the goosebumps that riddle your skin, "we need to get back to the party."

"everyone's gonna wonder why we all randomly just came from the woods," you spoke up, as you all began walking towards the beginning of the woods, "probably some secret satanic orgy, except nick's gay so he fucked a tree."

"how does that even- nevermind," nick sighs, causing you to giggle.

"y'know if you really wanna fulfill that fantasy..." chris whispers in your ear, his arm grazing your skirt, causing heat to rise throughout your body.

"you're such a pervert, chris!" you tell him, swatting his arm away from you.

( lilly's section 💌 )

so this was already basically finished before i posted my announcement about needing to take a writing break, so i just wanted to get this out sigh. for my angel girls @muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @luverboychris @guccifrog @nickgetsmewetter ! i love you guys. 💌

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @mrssturnioloo @mattsturniolosleftnut @sturnprime @thenickgirl @guccifrog @nickgetsmewetter @eyeliketoeatpoosay @e1ias3 @sp3aknaur @middlepartmatt @summerssover @riasturns @sturn777 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @pinksturniolo @chrissturniolossidehoe @chris-slut @hoesformatt @raysmayhem-72 @lanas-doll @chrisssluttywaist @mbbsgf @jetaimevous @chaossturns @cottoncandyswisherz @oliviasturniolo21

[aajxs]

DRESSED FOR REVENGE OSAMU MIYA !

🍙 : ̗̀➛ when you find out your boyfriend of three years cheated on you for months before finally breaking up with you, payback is the only thing on your mind. what more are you to do other than get with his twin brother as a form of revenge, and maybe something a bit more.

CONTENTS // mentions of cheating / atsumu slander (still my husband don't get it twisted) / reader getting her get back / NSFW! / fingering / oral (f! receiving) / biting / praise kink / hair pulling / mentions of alcohol + alcohol consumption / pussydrunk osamu / cum eating..? / vulgar language / pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, good girl (is that even a pet name??? girl idk), sweet girl) / unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it) / the d was fireeeeee ( unedited; 4.5k. )

PAIRINGS // osamu miya x fem!reader

A/N // where my fellow osamu girlies at 😓???

I RECOMMEND LISTENING TO. . . ESCAPISM. BY RAYE . . .WHILE READING.

// MASTERLIST .

OSAMU MIYA thinks his brother might be the biggest idiot he's ever met.

You and Atsumu have been dating for three years, and he's thrown it all down the drain simply because you'd been too busy to have sex. It's almost hypocritical. He's just as busy as you, and yet he broke up with you over something so simple. What ever happened to communication is key?

Atsumu has always been the friendly type, and honestly you think you're too numb to care when his brother texts you to tell you that he moved on pretty quick. Too quick, if you're being honest.

You decide that, in your horrendous post breakup state, you should go to a club. Seeing as the entire fucking world knows that you're the girl famous volleyball player Atsumu Miya fumbled horrendously, (at least according to the thousands of comments on his Instagram telling him he downgraded) you think it'll be pretty easy to find a guy to fuck and post on your own Instagram.

A halter top hugs your figure, cropped just above your bellybutton piercing. The black miniskirt you're wearing doesn't leave much to the imagination. The golden bracelets on your wrists create a satisfying jangle with each movement, and a golden necklace is paired to match. Your makeup is simple yet flattering, and it's obvious you're here for straight business as you strut inside the massive club.

Although, you don't even get the chance to find a seat at the bar when you find a familiar face. At first you think it's Atsumu, but you're quickly proved wrong.

Osamu didn't always have slightly softer features than his brother, they used to be identical. But, after highschool, you think he got tired of being the other Miya and decided to look striking in his own way.

You're met with dull and dark blue-grey eyes when your gaze locks with his. His hair is a bit more brown nowadays, but it still has that unmistakable shade of grey box dye mixed in. You don't miss the way he lights up at the sight of you before waving you over with a smile. You pause in thought for a few moments.

Is Atsumu here with him? What if him and his new girlfriend are here? If so, you're probably cooked. Although, when it comes down to it, you have no reason to be so intimidated. You're here for yourself, aren't you? So with that, you return Osamu's charming smile and walk over to him.

He gets up to greet you with a hug, and you happily accept it. "What's got you all dolled up?" He smiles playfully.

"I finally decided to get out after being cooped up for so long after the breakup. Think it's about time I get back out there, don't you?" You tilt your head as you sit down on the cushioned stool next to his.

He hums, "Ah shit, almost forgot about that." He says a bit nervously. A large hand meets the back of his neck as he sends you a closed eyed smile. Your eyes land on his bicep almost immediately, but you're quick to avert your gaze as to not get caught staring.

"It's alright. He's moved on hasn't he? I need to catch up." You sigh as you order a drink. Osamu, with a few protests from you, puts it on his tab.

"Oh yeah, how long have they been datin'? Four months now, if I recall." He says casually, watching as the bartender places the cold drink in front of you.

You thank the bartender before pausing. Four months? You and Atsumu only broke up two months ago. Osamu must notice the way you freeze because he tilts his head curiously.

"You alright?" He asks, blinking. The first thought that comes to his mind was that maybe it was a little too soon to mention how long they've been dating.

You don't answer the question, but quickly ask another. "When did Atsumu tell you we broke up?" You ask, your perfect brows creasing together slightly. Osamu narrows his eyes in thought.

"Uh.. around the time him and the new girl started dating." He answers. You pause again.

"We broke up two months ago." You say, rubbing your brow. Osamu stares at you in shock for a few moments. He's no longer leaning into his hand, now staring at you as if you'll break down at any second.

Honestly, if it were up to Osamu you would've never gotten with his brother in the first place.

You met Osamu during your first year of highschool and only when you became the manager for their volleyball team did you meet Atsumu. You hit it off instantly and started dating a few months before your second year.

Osamu was bummed because he obviously wanted you first and his brother knew that yet still got with you because the majority of the time Atsumu only cares about himself. You were basically the only person who liked him in highschool aside from girls who'd never met him and only chased after his looks.

He watched from afar as his brother treated you like shit and talked about other girls behind your back. Atsumu never acted on them (at least as far as Osamu knows), so there was never really any reason to tell you unless he wanted to sabotage your entire relationship for his own gain. Back then? He would've never done that because as long as you're happy, right? But now.. Osamu has waited too long to be this close to you without his brother at your side.

And right now, Osamu thinks that he could still have a chance. You're obviously still upset about Atsumu, but you wouldn't have come to this specific club if you didn't think you'd find a one night stand.

"You good?" He asks. Osamu has never been good at reading feelings (he's much better at expressing them, you know because you've watched him and Atsumu go at it multiple times over the smallest things. Maybe it's just a twin thing, but they always fought more than most siblings), so he isn't exactly sure what to say as you disassociate for a few moments.

Your nose scrunches slightly, "I'm alright. I guess I just didn't expect him to cheat after all we went through together." You respond belatedly.

Osamu let's out a small oh as he continues gazing at you.

Atsumu didn't just fumble you, he had the bag and watched as every single item fell out of it. How he could ever cheat on you, Osamu will never know. His brother has always been the more idiotic of the two.

"Anyways," You speak up a bit hesitantly, obviously still stuck on the unbearably recent new that your boyfriend of three years cheated on you, "What're you doing here, 'samu?" You ask, blinking away your thoughts as you tilt your head.

You take another sip of your drink, swirling the ice for a moment before you down the alcohol. Your eyes are still locked with his as you do so, awaiting a response to your question.

He stutters for a few moments, averting his gaze before answering. "I jus' needed to get out. Onigiri Miya has been pretty busy lately 'nd I think I deserve a break." Osamu responds, quickly chugging the rest of his drink.

You have to hold back a gasp as you watch some of the liquid drip from his plump lips and down his neck. The bead trails down his adams apple and he quickly wipes the liquid before it can disappear under the white button down shirt he's wearing.

The top few buttons are undone, giving you a peek of his chest. There's a necklace around his neck that you don't recognize, but the way the tiny chain falls on his tanned chest catches your eye.

He's always been attractive, but he just looks so painfully good under the strobing lights inside this crowded club. The multicolored lights ignite his features in ways you've never exactly paid attention to, and you can't help but trace each and every detail of his face with your eyes.

Osamu eyes you for a moment before they trail over to your empty drink. "D'ya want another?" He asks, snatching you away from your lewd thoughts about what you might do with his mouth.

"I don't think you want to know what I want." The words fly out of your mouth before you can think, and you quickly regret them as his wide eyes lock with yours.

You're stammering to find an excuse, but when a cheeky smirk appears on his face, you pause.

"I think I do." He tilts his head playfully, and you can't conceal the intake of breath those words cause.

A sudden confidence spikes through you, "I want you to take me back to yours." Your lips twitch up, and his smile grows.

"Careful. I might take you seriously if you keep lookin' at me like that." He clicks his tongue in response.

You trace the brim of your glass with your fresh set of nails, a low clink sounding out when you tap it a few times. "And who said I wasn't serious?" You flirt shamelessly, not shying away from his strong gaze.

And that's how you got to his house, your lips smashed against his as he guides the two of you through the front door. He uses his foot to kick the door shut before pinning you to the nearest thing possible.

He can taste your flavored lipgloss as your lips move in perfect synchrony, a sweet mix of strawberry and the slightest bit of bourbon. Your tongues are intertwined and you're basically eating each other's faces.

Osamu's strong hands are on the exposed skin of your waist, tightly gripping your sides as he pulls away from the sloppy kiss. A curse leaves your lips as his lips meet your jaw, then begin moving down your neck. He nips and sucks at your supple skin as he lifts you into his arms effortlessly.

Gasps leave your swollen lips as he carries you to his bedroom. If not for you, he would've hit the wall on his way. As soon as he reaches his room, he closes the door with his foot once again and lays you down on his King bed.

He skillfully pulls off your strapped heels, softly putting them on the floor near his bed as he climbs on top of you. "Take off your shirt, 'samu." You order breathlessly, and he hazily smirks.

"Of course." He says playfully as he tugs the black shirt off his body. Your eyes are met with thick muscle, something you should've expected but didn't. Your nails run down his abs, tickling his skin. Your fingers trace every indention of his toned chest his his lips meet with your neck again.

The softest moans leave your mouth as he suckles on your skin, focused solely on leaving marks. He only pulls away to take your top off before he gets straight back to work. Crisp air hits your once covered skin, sending a subtle shiver down your spine. His thumbs run over your hardened nipples, a shaky gasp leaving your lips when he pinches them.

You don't think you've been this wet in your life. Your arousal is painfully obvious as your legs squeeze together, a lousy attempt at taming the waterfall between your thighs.

Osamu suddenly swirls his tongue around one of your sensitive nipples, making you moan out loud. You bite your lip to conceal anymore noises.

"Don't get all shy now, pretty." He hoaresly mutters into your breast, his voice sending vibrations through your body. Your lips part at the statement, and you can feel him smirk into your skin as he licks and sucks and nips at your sensitive nipple.

Your hands make their way to his toned back, trailing over taut muscle as you reach into his hair. Your tight grip and occasional pulls have Osamu going crazy.

Honestly, he could care less if he's just a rebound. You're the most beautiful woman alive and he gets to feel you. You might consider yourself his brother's leftovers, but he considers you as a full course meal.

Your entire being is encased in warmth, and every time his lips touch your body you only get hotter. Every single touch and lick and bite only grows everlasting fire in the depths of your weak soul.

You're so fucking pretty under him, making the sweetest noises he's waited years to hear. It's not long until he's finally pulling your skirt and lacy panties down to your ankles, basking in the mess between your legs.

"All this for me?" He says playfully, glancing up at you. You tug his hair out of annoyance and he groans. You must've liked that sound because he doesn't miss the way your pussy clenches around nothing.

"What do you want me to do?" He asks, gazing up at you with sincere eyes. The deepness in his look ignites things that you've never experienced before. He's driving you mad.

You gasp, "Just fuck me, Osamu." He smirks at your bluntness.

The whimper of his name has him tugging his pants off in mere seconds. He licks his lips as he swipes two fingers along your wetness, eliciting a moan from you.

You look so good from this angle.

He inserts two fingers without any trouble, your pretty cunt sucking his fingers in as they graze your gummy walls. He pumps thick fingers in and out of you for a moment before pulling them out and placing them in his mouth. You taste like heaven, and he hopes you miss the way his eyes roll back.

"Holy shit," He groans as he licks his fingers clean, "'m sorry, I gotta taste you first." He apologizes for no reason in particular. It's not like you don't enjoy the way his mouth latches on your cunt.

He's taking his sweet time, and it seems to you like he's afraid of what might happen if he goes all out.

You grab his hair and pull him from between your legs, leaning forward to cup his jaw a bit roughly. "If you're scared to do it right, Osamu, you don't have to eat me out at all." You say breathlessly and demandingly. You could probably cum just by the look on his face right now. His mouth and chin is dribbling with a mix of your slick and his own saliva, and his dark eyes are half lidded in a haze of pleasure. He's staring up at you like he's never seen anything greater (he hasn't).

He nods, but you're not quite satisfied with the curt movement. "Use your words, baby." You order as you angle his head up a bit more. A small gasp leaves your lips when his grip on your thighs tightens.

"Yes ma'am." He responds, a slight attitude in his hoarse voice. You're so hot when you order him around.

He smirks and when you let go of his face he gets straight to work. He's slurping up your juices and shoving his tongue inside your sopping pussy like a man starved. Osamu has never been one for messes, but he can't help but be sloppy as he eats you.

Osamu has never been anything less than diligent when it comes to things that he deems important, so he's making sure to put his full focus into devouring you whole.

A chainlink of moans exit your mouth as he rubs your clit in circles while practically drinking your insides. With every buck of your hips and mewl from your plump lips, Osamu groans ever so slightly into your tight hole. They send shockwaves through your body, that familiar knot slowly tying itself in your stomach with every grunt.

The chants of his name rolling off your tongue are like music to his deprived ears. You sound like an angel to him, and all he wants to do is keep eliciting lewd sounds from you. Your tight grip on his hair is making him even more aroused.

Salty tears are starting to run down your face, staining your face with your mascara. Osamu feels like an asshole for enjoying your cries and pleas for more.

"F-f-uhh-ck, 'samu!" You manage, loud moans leaving your throat. You don't remember the last time you felt this good. The knot in your abdomen grows tighter by the second and your moans grow louder with each particular flick of his tongue. You're seeing actual stars at this point.

"Ah, shit- G'na cum, Osamu!" You moan just as your high hits. The earth seems to stutter on its axis as you release on his face, your vision fading into a blinding white and your legs shaking profusely. He laps it up like a dog in heat, aiming to drink your cum like water. He doesn't even pull away once your plethora of moans is over, his tongue still licking stripes down your folds.

It's only when you reach into his hair and pull him away from your sensitive hole that he realizes you came. A string of saliva goes with him as he detaches from you. He almost looks intoxicated as he gazes up at you, licking his lips and wiping his cum covered face with the of back his hand. Osamu rests his head on your thigh, looking up at you hazily.

It's near silent as you calm down from your high, the only sound being your uneven pants and his deep breaths.

Osamu sucks on your skin as he kisses up your torso. His grip on your hips is tight and he whispers words of praise as his lips attach to supple skin.

"Y're so fuckin' beautiful." He sighs into your neck. All he wants to do right now is give you backshots into oblivion, but he has a bit of self control.

You hum, "Keep talking like that and I might fall in love." You murmur sarcastically in response. He hopes you miss the way he tenses up.

"Can I fuck you?" He asks bluntly. His dick is almost painfully hard right now and he doesn't think jerking off will do much knowing that he just ate you out.

You smirk, "Be my guest, 'samu." You lick your lips and tilt your head at him. He exhales shakily before leaning forward to kiss you sloppily. You can still subtly taste yourself on his lips as his tongue re-explores your mouth.

Osamu's hands trail from your hips and towards your legs, tightly gripping the fat and muscle of your thighs. You sigh slowly, your eyelids fluttering closed as you anticipate the actions to come.

He positions himself above you, dark greyish-brown hair falling towards your face along with the small chain. His hands reach towards his boxers, pulling them down. You try not to watch as he pulls his thick cock out but it's honestly hard not to.

A few protruding veins catch your eye, pre cum glistens over his slightly red tip, and you can't help but feel like he might just have the prettiest dick you've ever seen.. For an identical twin, Osamu seems to be bigger than his blond counterpart.

He wastes no time lining himself up with your entrance, dragging his dick between your folds. You let out a shaky breath as he smears around your wetness, an airy laugh leaving his swollen lips.

You have absolutely no idea how long he's been wishing for this exact moment. How many times he dreamed of having you in positions much more explicit than this.

He doesn't think you ever will know. He'll save himself the embarrassment.

"You asked to fuck me, now you won't put it in?" Your hips jut forward with your words. Osamu smiles at the action. He hooks an arm around one of your legs and throws it over his shoulder, your calf resting on his muscular shoulder.

He locks eyes with you as he finally begins slipping himself inside you. Your gummy walls hug his shaft tightly. A chainlink of his grunts and your moans bounce off the walls.

"Why're you so tight.." Osamu mutters. It's mostly to himself, but you can't help but hum at his words.

He curses lowly before pushing the rest of his length into you with a strong thrust. You moan loudly, whether in pain or pleasure neither of you can tell.

A deep breath leaves his lips, "R'ya alright, sweetheart?" Osamu asks, his tone concerning.

"Fuck, y-yes." You breathe, eyelids fluttering shut in ecstasy. You're inadvertently clenching around him, attempting to get used to his length.

He's placing gentle kisses along your collarbone, awaiting your permission to move. You take a good twenty seconds, basking in the silence as he leaves small marks along your neck and chest.

"Please, 'samu." You mutter, and he hums into your chest as his hips begin moving and the quiet noise of skin against skin sounds in his room.

You're whimpering, and little do you know he hasn't even begun yet. His strokes are soft and slow and he's barely moving, but the way your gummy walls clench around him have him itching to fuck the soul out of you.

Shaky breaths leave his plump lips, and your gasps match his. "Fuck, baby, 've gotta move." He grunts as his pace quickens and his thrusts harden.

It doesn't take long for the skin to skin action to get louder, plap plap plaps bouncing off the walls as he thrusts his cock in and out of you.

"Y're fuckin' made for me, aren't ya?" Osamu moans, and your noises grow louder by the second.

You've had sex, made love, been fucked, and everything in-between. But the way Osamu thrusts inside of you with such precision and bottled need has you going fucking crazy.

Your bodies are intertwined so tightly that you can barely tell where you begin and he ends. It's hot and sticky and disgusting but it's so fucking good the way he doesn't hold back.

That tight knot in your abdomen is coming back and the gasps you let out grow louder as he fucks into you, raw and unadulterated.

"Fuuuck- 'samu 'm gonna come soon—" You stammer, your hips grinding helplessly into him. When he pulls out you buck forward and it's like he never even leaves.

(You aren't sure how long he's been rutting into you, but you're sure you'll be sore in places you didn't even know you could be sore by the time he's done.)

Osamu's lips latch onto yours and it contrasts the way he's fucking into you at first. His kiss is sloppy and open mouthed yet just as slow and calculated as always, but he's growing hungry as he reaches his own high.

He's desperate, more desperate for you than he's ever been for anything else in his entire life. It's pathetic, he thinks, but you taste so fucking good and the way you clench around his cock makes him think you want him to cum inside.

"Keep fuckin' grippin' me like that 'nd I'll have no choice but to cum inside, princess." Osamu groans into your lips, and you swear to god if he keeps hitting that extra raw and gummy spot inside you you'll have his fucking kids.

Your nails are digging into his shoulders, but he doesn't seem to care. "Never been fucked like this, have ya?" He smugly questions. You decide not to answer because no, you haven't been fucked like this but you don't think you'll ever want it any other way after you're done.

And then, in one swift motion, he pulls out and flips you on your stomach before pounding into from the back. With your face squished uncomfortably into the pillow and drool pooling from your swollen lips, his hand practically gripping your scalp as he pulls on your tussled hair, you don't think you'd have this night any other way.

Osamu's other calloused hand latches to your hip with a bruising grip, and suddenly his pace quickens and hardens and you're everywhere and nowhere all at once. He leans forward, a breath trailing up the deep arch of your back as he thrusts into you with no remorse. He's waited too long to hold back, and now that he's got you he doesn't think he's ready to let you go quite yet.

"Such a good fuckin' girl f'me," Osamu moans. If it weren't for him being so close to you, you might've missed it in such a fucked state.

A gasp leaves your lips, "All yours, 'samu!"

"Yeah, all mine," A vibration trails down your back, and you're hit with the realization that he is just as much yours as you are his in this painfully blissful moment when your moans sync up.

The room is stuffy and reeks of sex and neither of you would have it either way. "C'mon sweet girl, come with me?" Osamu asks deeply in your ear, and you bite your lip so hard you think you might taste metallic.

A loud moan, "Fuck- yes, Osamu, please!" You practically scream, pleas leaving your wet lips. He can't quite see the way your eyes roll into the back of your head as he continues grinding so deeply into you, but he knows you look so fucking good from this angle.

"Inside, f-fuck, do it inside Osamu!" You gasp, and he doesn't sense even a tinge of regret in your demeanor once the words leave your pretty mouth, so that's exactly what he does.

Just as a deep groan leaves his mouth and his hot seed plants itself inside you, you're seeing galaxies as your reach your peak. That tightly knitted rope snaps in half and you're cumming all over his cock at the same time he coats your insides with his own white juices.

He pulls out and nearly collapses on you. Thankfully he doesn't rest his full weight on you, shifting slightly to the side so he can, not only rest his head on the pillow next to yours, but lean in to give you a gentle kiss.

You kiss him back, half-lidded and tired eyes slowly falling closed as you rest next to one another. A strong arm pulls you into him, and you wrap a leg around his own. Neither of you can ignore the way a lewd mix of each other's cum thickly drips down your thigh.

"Quick power nap, then another round. How 'bout it, sweetheart?" He asks, voice raspy and deep in your ear.

"You just fucked the life out of me, 'samu. Give it a minute," Your throat is raw, but your words come out clearly. He chuckles softly, lightly muttering a 'yes ma'am' into your ear.

You'll have to remind him to thank his dear brother for keeping it tight.

© AAJXS !

[aphrogeneias]

don't go (sharing your devotion) — one-shot

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie's jealousy was loud, just like everything else he did. or, eddie realizes he can't keep being the sole object of his best friend's attention forever and ends up screwing things up.

maybe it was about time.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: friends to lovers, jealousy (on eddie's side, he's not proud of it), light angst, unresolved sexual tension, a little bit of smut (+18), a hint of sub!eddie

author's note: was inspired to upload this to tumblr by @cursedyuta's stellar subby eddie content, and it made me remember i had this hidden. this was supposed to be two-part but i couldn't find the motivation to write any more, i'm sorry about the open ending! maybe it will gain a follow up one day, never say never <3

Eddie's jealousy was loud, just like everything else he did.

It stemmed from regret, pure and simple. Regret of not asking you out all the times you were alone with him, of not confessing his feelings, of not making you his when he had the chance. You weren't his, no matter how much he acted like you were.

As far as everyone was concerned, you were Eddie's girl. Being the only girl in The Hellfire Club — until Erica Sinclair's unexpected arrival, that was — and the only girl he was always seen with, it was easy to make that assumption, and neither of you really cared to clear those rumors. Something in his chest swelled with pride anytime someone called you his girlfriend and all you did was roll your eyes, but never tell them they were wrong.

Sometimes he wondered if you knew. You had to know, he wasn't exactly hiding.

His reputation did most of the work to keep guys away from you, but there were a few, brave ones who weren't really intimidated by Eddie "The Freak" Munson — alleged satanist, cult leader and whatever other false atrocity this town was willing to put on his shoulders. Those brave ones, the ones who asked you on dates and dared keep you from spending time with him, suffered with Eddie's relentless, petty teasing and practiced death stares.

Steve Harrington didn't seem easily intimidated by him in the slightest, though.

Eddie had all but scoffed when you told him you'd been going out with the former King of Hawkins High. It wasn’t until he saw the two of you together that reality started to sink in.

He didn't mean for things to get ugly, but the moment realized you were slipping through his fingers was an awakening he didn't think he could handle.

"What was all that about?"

Eddie shrugged, running a hand through his shaggy hair, a little humid from sweat. It was hot that night, even hotter inside the small downstairs bathroom you locked yourself with him in. Outside, the small party the drama club kids were throwing went on, voices and music being muffled by the closed door.

"I just wanted to know what Harrington was doing hanging out with low lives like us. Can't I be curious?" His voice was a bit slurred, no doubt from all the cheap beer he downed before and after Corroded Coffin's gig, fuming as he stared at you from across the room, all tangled with Steve, laughing at his jokes.

You leaned on the tiled wall, crossing your arms. He tried not to let his eyes wander lower, to the way your tits were pushed up in that halter top that left little to the imagination, but his was already running wild. "Do you hear yourself, Eddie? When you speak? Or did all that headbanging finally mess with your brain?"

"I think that would be the drugs, sweetheart."

It was a poor attempt to make you laugh, he knew. You knew it too, because your face remained impassive.

"You were curious, then. That's why you threw a fucking scene? Is that why you acted like an idiot and dragged me along with you, in front of all of those people?"

"Wouldn't be the first time." He mumbled, now unable to meet your eyes. Shame was something Eddie rarely felt, comfortable in his own skin most of the time, no matter what other people thought — but when it came to you, all he wanted to do was shield you from those same judgemental gazes, but instead, he put you right in the way of their scrutiny.

All because he couldn't stand the sight of you flirting with someone else.

"Goddamnit, Eddie! Can't you be serious for once in your life? This isn't the first time you do this shit but this time you went too far."

"I didn't like watching Harrington being all over you, okay? I didn't like knowing he's going to take advantage of you just like he does with all those other girls. Is that what you want to hear?"

He knew he was exaggerating, in fact, he knew nothing about Steve Harrington's intentions towards you, or any of the other girls he was seen around with, but none of that mattered to the ugly, jealous monster roaring in his insides.

Sighing, you close your eyes before looking right into his. "No, Eddie. That's not what I want to hear, but an apology would be nice."

The words "I'm Sorry" were stuck inside his throat, along with those three little words he struggled to say to you, as he watched you leave through the door and lose yourself amongst the crowd.

The day after your fight was spent in his trailer, nursing a bad hangover and a broken heart, both of which were his own fault, and the consequences of his reckless behavior. One of them hurt more than the other.

Eddie was sitting on the old brown couch on the trailer's porch as the sun went down on the horizon, smoking the uptenth cigarette of that cursed day when he saw Steve's burgundy BMW enter the trailer park from afar, and stop right in front of the Mayfield's trailer.

That wasn't unusual, since Steve was often checking up on the Mayfield girl, just as he did with Dustin, as far as Eddie knew. What was different this time was you on his passenger seat, looking as pretty as you did the night before. He stood up as he watched you talk, his heart clenching inside his chest when you exchanged a quick kiss before you both left the car, Steve going into the Mayfield's home and you made your way to the opposite side.

His side.

He could see it from afar, the pain in your eyes. There was rage too, lingering, somewhere in there. Your hips swayed with the determined movements of your feet, and he couldn't help but let his eyes linger on the mini skirt you were wearing — the black one, his favorite. Not that you knew it was, but every time you wore it, his mind raced with thoughts of what was hidden under that tiny piece of fabric, struggling with the soft flesh of your thick thighs.

For a moment, he thought about how might look like to you, standing shirtless on his porch, a long since extinct cigarette hanging from his fingers, wearing those same old black jeans. He wondered if you could see the dark circles under his eyes, or if his hair looked like the bird's nest it certainly felt like. Eddie felt sick, unworthy of your presence, unworthy of you. He kept wishing you would turn away, back to the golden boy who had apparently won your heart, but suddenly there you were, right in front of him.

"Will you let me in, please? We need to talk."

Not trusting his voice, he nodded, stopping out of the porch and towards the door, where you followed him to. Once you were inside, the silence between you was heavy, oppressive, until you were the one who broke it.

“You know, you can’t keep guys away from me forever.” There was a shy, almost teasing, smile behind your words.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He avoided your eyes, tracking back further into the house and in the direction of his room, knowing you would follow him. The angry stomp of your boots behind him was like music to his ears, it made his heart race into his ribcage unlike any heavy beat of bass drums.

At that moment, Eddie couldn't find anything more beautiful than you — standing in the yellow light of his room, eyes set on him, brows and lips set on a hard line, making him want to reach out and run his fingers through them to soothe your expression. You looked like an avenging angel, a goddess come to put him in his place.

There was no one else he'd rather be on his knees for.

“Yes, you do. You know exactly what I’m talking about, and the worst part is that you keep acting like nothing is happening, like… like you haven’t been doing this for years. Eddie, I’m…”, it weighed on his heart, the way you sighed deeply, stopping yourself mid-sentence, “I’m tired. I’m tired of dancing around whatever is going on here, so you’ll either spit it out and tell me what you want, or I’m gonna walk out of here and go home with Steve, because at least he’s not the one bullshitting me.”

It wasn’t often that Eddie Munson was left speechless.

Ever the wordsmith, he should have had the perfect excuse on the tip of his tongue, but instead, he has nothing. Eddie watched you with dark eyes, burning under your gaze, his mouth sewn shut. With one last look, a bullet through his already wrecked chest, you turned to leave.

"No, no, no!" Panicking as he felt you slipping through his fingers, Eddie finally reached out, running to stand between you and the door, voice rising in a whine, "Don't go with Harrington. Please, I'll do anything you want, just… stay, please?"

You hesitated a little before coming closer, neatly brushing his chest with yours, your perfume making him almost dizzy, making him close his eyes for a moment, taking you in.

"All I want is for you to tell me what you want." You insisted.

Placing his hands on his hips, the same hands that were itching to touch you, and looking up, chuckling with nervousness, he finally confessed, "I want you. Is that good enough for you, huh? Is that what you want to hear?" He caught himself repeating the same words as yesterday, only this time, he meant then. "In fact, you're all I've ever wanted. I want you so bad it's embarrassing, Y/N. It's fucking ruining me."

Eddie was met with silence, but at the same time he looked down to you, you raised your hands to rest them on his chest, spreading heat through the worn out Sabbath shirt he was wearing and into his skin. "Did it kill you to admit that?"

"No, but you are, baby."

"Consider it payback for all the years you wasted being an asshole and not realizing you could have had me this whole time."

Pushing him slightly, taking advantage of How distracted he was by your unexpected — or should they be expected? — words, you maneuvered the both of you until he felt his knees hit the edge of his bed.

"Can I still have you now?"

With a final push from your delicate hands, Eddie landed softly on the bed, lying on his back, his hair falling like a dark halo around his bed. He saw your expression soften as you climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. This time, he didn't restrain from touching you, letting his hands slide over the skin of your soft thighs, squeezing them lightly. He could feel the heat of your pussy from under the thin fabric of your panties, making him swallow back a moan. He wanted to grind against you, release a little of the tension rising in his jeans, but he kept still, waiting for your next move.

It felt like a dream, you on top of him, looking like every bit of a wet dream as well. Your hands grabbed his wrists and positioned them above his head as you lowered your face right above his flustered one.

"You see, the thing is… I don't think you deserve to have me right now, Eddie baby. You need to think about what you've done a little more, don't you think?"

A shiver ran down his spine with your words, making his body writhe under you, a wild fire spreading through him, ready to eat him alive — just like you looked like you were about to do.

"See, I'm gonna have to go and find a way to let Steve down gently, and then we're gonna talk, actually talk, about whatever this is," you motioned with your head at the two of you, "okay? No more running, no more hiding."

"No more running, no more hiding." He nodded frantically, repeating your words. Eager to get on your good side again.

"Good." You placed a sweet kiss to his forehead, a stark contrast to the torture you were putting him through. "Was that so hard?"

You had no idea.

[theslushiestnoob]

——————————————————————————

American Boy (pt.7)

Word count: 2.8k

SORRY FOR THE LONG BREAK!! This series is back and you will hopefully be hearing more from me in the coming weeks as my exams come to an end <3

——————————————————————————

I sat in front of the mirror in my bedroom, finishing my makeup. I looked around the room, realising how little I have used it. I hadn’t been here for the past few days - instead staying at Hamzah’s flat. There was no warmth here without him, looking at the pristinely made bed made me long for Hamzah’s rumpled sheets, warmed by his body. The thought of his bed brought a flush to my cheeks, and I returned my attention to getting ready for dinner.

My phone chimed beside me. I picked it up and squinted at the notification. My breath caught in my chest.

I had a job offer.

An international journalism firm had reached out to me - offering a virtual interview next week. I beamed to myself, laughing curtly in shock. I suppressed a squeal - this was the most perfect opportunity. The commute from my flat to the London headquarters was remarkably easy. It was perfect.

I immediately messaged Mandy with the good news, her quick reply congratulating me and telling me how happy she was for me.

I rested my phone down, breathing a shocked giggle as I resumed my makeup.

Then my mind returned to Hamzah. Accepting this job offer meant leaving Toronto, leaving him. A heavy feeling settled in my gut as I thought about it, a feeling of guilt and anxiety. His smile, the way his breath catches when I touch him, the pattern of his curls, his unrestrained laugh, are undoubtedly permanently ingrained in my mind. He is everything I had ever been searching for. The warmth that blushes in my chest when I think of him, the way he holds me, the searing hot intensity of his touch, how can I leave that behind?

We had said that this wasn’t forever, right? When we agreed to start whatever we had going on, he had told me that he knew I would leave, eventually. I hadn’t anticipated how difficult it would be, how deep my affection would grow. Loving him makes it much harder to leave.

*

‘You look…’ Hamzah starts, looking me up and down as I stand on the front porch of my rental. He shakes his head, unable to express himself with words. He sidles closer to me, resting one hand on my hip and using the other to brush a lock of hair out of my eye.

‘…perfect,’ he finishes, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. I sigh against him, melting into his embrace. His green button-down shirt was paired with his black jeans, his dark hair swept out of his deep brown eyes. 

‘This dress is… wow,’ he says, running a hand down the side of my navy blue midi dress, the halter neck exposing much of what Hamzah wished to see.

‘You better not like it too much, since you’ll be taking it off later,’ I whisper, his eyes widening in shock. He lets out a surprised laugh, locking his gaze on mine.

‘You look beautiful as well, Hamzah,’ I add, tracing my hand down his chest. He squirms under my touch, grabbing my wrist sharply. He laughs nervously again, his breath hitching.

He takes my hand, leading me toward his car, a gleaming smile pressed on his face. My stomach dropped at the sight, remembering my job offer from earlier.

*

‘Before we get out,’ Hamzah said,  placing a hand on my jaw and turning my face to him. He presses a lingering kiss to my lips, savouring these final moments of privacy. He hummed gently as he pulled away, his face an expression of reluctance.

‘C’mon,’ I tell him, opening my door and stepping out into the cool evening.

 *

I turn when I hear Mandy call my name, and start toward her.

‘You two look gorgeous!’ I say as I embrace Mandy, her long white skirt matching Martin’s polo. She returns the compliment and turns to greet Hamzah. I feel a hand on my arm, and turn to see Martin looking at me. 

‘Look, I’m not going to pretend to know what’s going on between you two,’ he says, gesturing between me and Hamzah, ‘but this is the happiest I’ve seen him in a while.’ He smiles warmly at me, and I return it.

‘He’s a really good guy, y/n,’ he adds with a nod.

I sigh gently, gazing at Hamzah’s profile illuminated by the dim street light. He smiles at Mandy, and my stomach flutters from his beauty.

‘Yeah, he is.’

*

Settling at the table with a round of drinks, conversation flows readily between us. Hamzah and Martin joke as they always do, but there is also a fair amount of calm conversation. I find it hard to keep my eyes off of Hamzah, the subtle arch of his nose and the fullness of his lips, the size of his arms as he props his elbows on the table. As I speak to tell a story, his full attention is directed toward me, and a hand snakes down to grip my thigh. Just out of sight of Mandy and Martin, his fingers brush underneath the hem of my dress, a knowing smirk plastered onto his face.

Our food arrives and the conversation turns more subdued. 

‘Oh, y/n, congrats on your job offer! I’m so proud of you,’ Mandy says, her eyes full of adoration. As much as I appreciated her kind words, my stomach dropped.

‘What job offer? You didn’t tell me about a job offer,’ Hamzah asks harshly, turning towards me.

‘I…’ I stammer, unable to meet his eyes, ‘I got a job offer from a journalism firm,’ I say quickly.

‘In London?’ Hamzah asks. Straight to the point, to the part I was reluctant to tell.

‘Uhh… yeah, it would be.’

‘Are you going to take it?’

‘Well, there's a round of interviews first, but if I get it - yeah, I think I will.’

There is a beat of silence. Hamzah’s unrelenting stare pierced my soul, his expression hurt and confused.

‘Well, good for you, y/n,’ he murmured, returning his attention to his meal. I gulped down a lump in my throat as I felt Hamzah’s hand slip from my thigh.

The awkward tension between Hamzah and I hung over the remainder of the dinner, clouding the evening. By the time we stood outside and said our goodbyes, the tensity had become intoxicating. 

I hugged Mandy and Martin in turn, watching them get into their car and drive away. As soon as they had rounded the corner, Hamzah turned to me.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Hamzah, let’s not do this on the street-’

‘Do what? I’m asking you, y/n, why did you keep it from me?’

‘I don’t know… I only found out like an hour before dinner, and I…’

‘And you told Mandy but not me.’

‘Mandy’s my best friend! Of course I’m going to tell her.’

‘And what am I? Didn’t you think it might concern me?’

‘Why are you making this such a big deal? I was going to tell you eventually, why do you care?’

Hamzah stared at me bemusedly, his eyes narrowed in anger.

‘Are you kidding?’

‘What?’ I say, crossing my arms across my chest defensively.

‘Why do I care?’ He points to his chest exaggeratedly

I stay silent

‘Jesus. I can’t believe you just said that.’

He laughs, but there was no humour in it.

‘Why do I care?’ He repeats. ‘God, I’m so stupid,’ he scoffs, shoving his hands into his pockets and turning away from me, his profile illuminated in the warm lights of the city.

‘Hamzah-’

‘Why do you think I care? Because I… I…’ he stammers, gesturing toward me.

‘I’m sorry, Hamzah, but you knew what you were signing up for. This is such a good opportunity for me, what do you expect me to do? You said yourself, we can make this work, we just…’

‘You shouldn’t have let me find out through Mandy. You should’ve told me yourself. And I’m so mad at myself, I-’ he turns away from me, a shiver travelling down his body.

There is a prolonged silence. I stare at him, his breathing slowing as he composes himself. My heart aches with the guilt of my actions. Of course I should’ve told the boy I’ve been falling in love with, shouldve considered how he would react. 

‘I’m gonna go.’ I declare, straightening my bag on my shoulder.

‘Let me drive you,’ Hamzah says, turning back around to face me.

‘No, I’m walking.’

‘No you’re not. I’m driving you,’ Hamzah sidles up to me, moving to rest his hand on my arm before jerking it away.

‘I don’t want you to.’ I say, taking a step away from him.

Hamzah sighs, scrubbing a palm down his face agitatedly.

‘I’m not going to let you walk home this late when you don’t even know where you’re going. I’m getting you an uber,’ he pulls out his phone and begins tapping his screen, his brows furrowed in anger.

‘I can get myself an uber, Hamzah,’ I say, crossing my arms across my chest.

‘Well, too late. It’ll be here for you in two minutes,’ he says quietly, tucking his phone into his pocket.

I sigh, and lean forward to rest my head against his chest. He freezes for a moment, before raising his arms to run his fingers through my hair. I can feel the shuddering of his breath, his chest rising and falling irregularly.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think how much it would affect you,’ I whisper against the soft fabric of his shirt.

‘Yeah, well, everything about you affects me, y/n.’

‘What do we do now? I’m not going to keep this going when I know I’m going to leave,’ Hamzah lifts my head away from his chest to look into my eyes, his expression concerned and frightful.

‘What?’

‘I’m not going to do this knowing it will hurt you.’

‘No, no, y/n, stop. I’m fine. I was just… surprised. I can do this, I swear, I-’ As Hamzah spoke, a black car swerved into the spot outside the restaurant.

‘I have to go,’ I said in an almost whisper, stalking away from him and getting into the car.As it pulled away, I looked back at Hamzah, standing alone on the pavement, lit from behind by the warm glow of the restaurant.

*

When I got back to my rental, I immediately changed into my pyjamas - a pink silk nightdress that skimmed the top of my thighs. I was exhausted from all of my emotions, and wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed. 

As I burrowed under the covers and flicked off the lamp, I heard a curt knock at my door. Groaning as I rose, I padded across the corridor and yanked the door open.

A tall, curly haired, honey-skinned boy stood before me, his expression a combination of grief and adoration. His shirt was crumpled, giving the impression that he had been laying down. Despite the lateness of the night, he was still in his clothes.

‘I can’t stay away from you, y/n,’

‘No, Hamzah, I’m not going to hurt you anymore.’ I say, closing the door on his pleas. A hand smacks against it, forcing it back open. His rolled up sleeves exposed his forearm, flexing gently with the effort.

‘Please, I can do it. You won’t hurt me. I’ll be fine… Please, y/n, I… I need you,’ he sank to the floor, kneeling in front of me.

Tears pricked at my eyes as I looked at the boy before me. So beautiful, so sweet, I can’t be responsible for hurting him any more than I already had.

‘Please, y/n,’ he said, his voice cracking with emotion. 

His beg shattered my self-restraint, and I stepped toward him.

Wrapping his arms around my thighs, he rested his head on my abdomen. I reached down and ran my hands through his curls as he held me close to him.

‘I need you,’ he repeated in a whisper against my stomach, causing my breath to catch. He moved his hands, one resting on my ass and the other tracing on my upper thigh.

‘Hamzah,’ I gasped, my skin set alight from his touch.

‘Mhm?’ He replied, lifting my dress and pressing kisses to the bare skin of my abdomen. The warmth of his mouth made my body judder, and I planted my hands on his shoulders.

‘Anyone could see…come inside,’ I whispered, his gaze darting up to meet mine.

‘Mhm… need you so bad I could do you right here,’ he mumbled against my skin, his grip tightening on my ass. His words brought a deep flush to my cheeks. Seeing him like this, begging for me, made my body long for his even more intensely than usual.

I gasped in pleasure, and gripped his shoulders even tighter. He exhaled softly, his warm breath fanning across my stomach. As he rose to his feet, he hooked an arm around my knees, throwing me over his shoulder. I yelped in surprise, the sensation of being upside-down mixed with the heat of his body intoxicating.

‘Hamzah!’ I squealed as he carried me through the door, slamming it shut behind him. 

He took me to the bedroom, placing me down gently on the unused bed. He stopped for a moment and looked around, at my pile of books on the bedside table, my makeup sprawled across the floor in front of the mirror. A small smile came across his face as he crawled on top of me.

I laced my hands together behind his neck, looking deeply into his eyes. He returned my gaze, his face crinkling into a soft smile. He lowered his head, pausing just millimetres from my mouth. He closed his eyes languidly, and inhaled slowly. He was savouring the moment, the feeling of my proximity. Slowly, he closed the distance between us and captured my mouth in a passionate kiss. Any remnant of my inhibition melted away the moment his mouth made contact with mine. My thoughts were focused on him, on his touch, on this moment. Despite his slow movements, I could tell that he wanted more - his hardness pressed against my stomach causing my hips to buck beneath him. He broke away, rising slightly to look at me, at my hair fanned around my face. I traced a hand across his jaw, swirling my thumb on his cheek. My breathing was deep as I looked into his eyes, my chest warm with comfort and affection.

‘I… I think I love you, Hamzah,’ I whispered, before I knew I had said it.

He froze above me, his eyes widening in a fearful expression. My stomach dropped. His face didn’t seem happy, or anything, really, other than shock. His body was unsettlingly still above me, as I moved my hands to rest on his waist. 

‘…Hamzah?’ I prompted, nervousness rising in my chest.

Another beat of silence passed.

‘I…’ he stammered, his gaze flitting across my face; from my eyes to my mouth and back again.

‘Y/n, I… I love you, too,’ even as he said it, his fearful expression never left his face - clearly, it took a lot for him to say. I breathed out a sigh of relief, a smile overcoming my face as I giggled softly. He returned my smile, huffing an incredulous laugh. 

I cradled his jaw with my hands and pulled him down to me, kissing him with a distinct ferocity. He returned the passion, slipping his hands under my dress and lifting it up over my head. Reaching behind him, he tugged his own shirt over his head before returning his hands to my waist. His lips crashed back onto mine, pressing me into the bed.

‘Now let me show you how much I love you,’ he mumbled against my lips, and I felt his mouth stretch into a grin.

*

Late morning light streamed in through the window, illuminating the small room. I stirred awake, feeling the weight of Hamzah’s body on top of mine. His head rested on my bare stomach, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist, and his legs tangled with mine. I sighed softly, a smile overcoming my face as I remembered the night before. 

Hamzah loves me. The warmth that filled my chest from this revelation forced a giggle, pure happiness radiating from me.

I shifted Hamzah off of me, sliding to the edge of the bed, but a hand grabbed my arm, holding me firmly in place.

‘No,’ Hamzah mumbled, still half-asleep, ‘stay.’

I shuffled back over to him, pressing a kiss to his temple. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a tight embrace. Our bodies pulled flush against each other again made a blush rise to my cheeks. Hamzah rested his chin against the top of my head, cuddling my face against his broad chest.

‘G’morning,’ he murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of my hair. His words echoed in my mind. No, stay.

[madebyrolo]

Beach date

Rafe Cameron x Reader

She/her

one shot / fluff

summary: “VICTOR, YOU ACTUALLY DID THIS!?” Type fic.

Obx masterlist

┗ •◦இ•◦ ┛

I was sitting on my bed scrolling through TikTok when Rafe texted me.

“Be ready I’m picking you up at 6.”

“And for what can I ask?” I responded

“It’s a surprise peach”

Rafe came up with that nickname when I was over one day and I accidentally drank the rest of his peach juice.

“Okay okay see you then :)”

With the time being 5:38, I get up and put on denim skirt and white halter top with little blue flowers on it. I grab my Uggs cause they’re cute and comfy and I put my vanilla perfume. I get my purse and make sure my lip gloss is in it and soon I get the text that my bae has arrived. I love calling Rafe bae cause he hates it.

“Mom I’ll be back, I’m going out with rafe!” I call out from the stairs.

“Okay honey, be home before 10 please!” She calls out from her office.

She absolutely loves Rafe and luckily she trust me and him enough to let me out without asking anything. And with her having my location on 24/7

I shut the door behind me and I walk to the black truck in my driveway. I see Rafe standing right by the passenger door with his dopey smile plastered across his face.

“Hey dream boat” I say walking up to him placing a small kiss on his lips.

“Hey hey? That wasn’t a kiss come one give daddy a real one.” Rafe said earning a laugh from me before pulling me in by the waist completely smashing his lips on mine.

“That was sweet but you’re eating me Rafe.” I joke with him.

“Oh so with that hurtful joke, I don’t think you deserve these.” He said grabbing a bouquet from inside the car.

“Rafe, you didn’t oh my god they’re beautiful!” I saw grabbing them from him and smelling them.

It was a mix of blue hydrangeas with lilies and mums with the perfect amount of greenery . They smelt amazing, like peace which I loved about flowers.

“Blue like my eyes so you think about me every time you look at them.” He somewhat joked.

“I always do Rafe.” I say before planting a small cute long kiss on him.

“Now come on, I’m dying to know what you’ve planned.” I say adjusting the collar of his white dress shirt.

“Okay peach get in.” he said opening the door and letting me in.

After a 15 minutes drive with a quick pit stop for a pizza at dominos, we finally made it. We stopped by the beach putting the car in park and once again opening the door for me.

“What are we doing at the beach? I didn’t bring a suit.” I say while he grabs my hand leading up to the sand.

“We’re not gonna for a swim.” he said.

“You should’ve mentioned the beach, I wouldn’t have picked these Uggs Rafe.” I tell him.

“You know Uggs were actually meant for the beach? They were for surfers” he explains.

“Do I look like a surfer?” I complain.

“Hey I got you to stand in the board once!” He nudged me

After a short walk we are greeted with a blanket that had a basket with lemonade and other goodies. There was 2 easels and some paint supplies along with more flowers.

“Happy date night!” Rafe said as let put down the pizza.

“Rafe this is so cute!” I say as I sit down in the blanket and look at everything he got.

“I did this all myself, thought we deserved a nice cute date to end off the summer.” Rafe said sitting next to me.

“Rafe this is perfect. Thank you.” I said hugging him.

“I got us some paints so we can do a little couples art maybe and some extra canvas for fun but mainly cause I know I’ll mess up.” He joked bringing out all the colors.

“You’re actually the best boyfriend ever Rafe.”

“I know I know. You can pay he back later.” he said with a wink as you nudge him.

“Okay give me a plate I want pizza.”

After your small dinner and some laughs shared with Rafe you finally get to the painting.

“Okay so we can do thumb prints, handprints, kisses, little things that represent us,” Rafe listed ideas as he scroll through Pinterest.

“Let’s do a handprints, something easy and then maybe we can cover it in sand to reminds of us this little beach date.” You offered

“Yeah I like that” he kissed your nose.

“Alright so many kisses today I think you just did this to get some.”

“No no I actually did this for us, but that’s just a perk” Rafe gave another kiss but on your neck and started going down.

“Okay okay! Let’s get to painting!” You giggled due to the friction of his warm lips on your skin.

As you guys finally decided on a paint color which took absolutely forever because Rafe wanted to do blue to match his eyes (once again) but you wanted a sage green because it was nice and calming which was a perfect way to describe this date. Certainly not this relationship yk how Rafe is.

“Okay your hand first cause it’s giant” you as you painted his hand a dark green.

“Hey you love these hands, especially these finger-”

“OKAY. So place it straight don’t make it crooked.” You guide his onto the canvas

“I can do it myself I’m a big boy okay y/n” he said placing his own hand down.

“Okay leave it there for a couple of seconds to get a good print.” You order.

You grab a lighter green to match his and paint your hand. The ticklish feelings and smell remind you of elementary, and the one time Jayj ate paint (not as a dare.)

“Oh that’s a cute color” Rafe said as you put the paint back.

“Okay you can take your hand off now. Longer you keep it, it’s probably gonna dry on there.” You joked.

“Don’t make it crooked.” He said as he grabbed your hand placing it down on the canvas on top if his.

After a couple of seconds you take it off and see the perfect imprints of you and Rafe.

“Aww it’s so cute!” You commented

“Oh now we have to make another, I’m gonna want one too.” He said admiring your art work.

“Here you go.” he said handing you a cup of sand

You sprinkle the sand ontop of the paint making sure to put enough then shaking the rest off.

“Okay now while this drys I wanna paint another.” you say grabbing another canvas.

You decide to paint a turtle on the beach. Turtles are your second animal cause they’re just so darn cute. As you paint, Rafe also decides to paint whatever he is. He has an assortment of colors and he’s just in his own world. As you watch him you can’t help but notice how his tounge pokes the inside of this cheek as he concentrates.

After 20 minutes, you finally have finished yours projects.

“Okay on, one…two…three!” You count down and flip your canvas.

“Oh thanks cute!” Rafe says and you stare as his… maybe pizza?

“Nice…I don’t even know. Rafe what is that?” You say confused.

“It’s a boat!” He says excited.

“Look it’s me and you!” He points to small blobs

“Oh I thought those were olives…”

“Y/n…” he says with a pout.

“Oh come on it’s cute!!!” You say trying to make him feel better.

“Maybe you should just keep to gallery walks instead of making the art…” you pat his shoulder as you both stare as his “boat”

“Your turtles are so good but look at my boat.”

“Rafe calm down it’s fine beside you can always buy classes.”

“But you’re a natural! It’s unfair.”

“Rafe quit it, besides you’re better at other things than me!” You try to cheer him up.

“Like what?”

“Golf”

“Wow lousy golf. Topper is the king let’s face it.”

“Whatever who cares he got cheated on.” You managed to crack a smile from him.

“Beside, you’re an absolutely an amazing boyfriend. My boyfriend.” He turns to look at you.

“Look at this amazing date you planed. And set up all by yourself too. Gotta give yourself props.” You give him a hug.

“Yeah I’m a pretty good man..” he said playfully rolling his eyes.

“My man.”

You guys share another slow and passionate kiss.

“Come on let’s clean this up. You can spend the night at mine.” You offer as you began to throw things into the basket.

“Okay good, I already told my dad I was.” He said as he grabbed the trash and threw it in a bag.

As you guys drive home you play your oldies playlists. You singing along while Rafe learns new songs.

Soon you guys make it to your house. Rafe parks the car and you guys make your way to the front door with him holding the insane amount of followers.

“Wait we never made my painting” Rafe stopped in his tracks.

“Here you can have the hands, I’ll take your pizza boat.” You say handing him his.

“Guess we have to have another date night to make another !! Ugh!” You said sarcastically.

“What a bore.” Rafe plays along.

You guys reach upstairs. Taking a joint shower because Rafe kept insisting on taking one first but you were too tired to wait. You both got the amazing date night, and hot and steamy sex.

┗ •◦இ•◦ ┛

Came out of hibernation and finally wrote 😩

Sorry for any typos I got too lazy.

Love me some soft Rafe 💁🏽‍♀️

[pastelsnowcat]

Three is a charm, two is not the same pt. 111

» [3 - Britney Spears] «

1:25 ─〇───── 3:33 ⇄◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

Third and final part to my first series 👀 hope y’all like it 👉👈

Minors, do not interact or I will chase you like a dog with rabies :) The blog is an adult space

Pairing: Yuki x Shoko x fem!reader

Third part, better read Part I and Part II first! Polyamorous relationship, threesome, power dynamics with softdom Shoko and harddom yuki (not really but like.. a little) so be aware. Just in general lots of filthy lesbian smut with my favorite women<33 consensual somnophilia, bondage and free use! Choking! Consent declared within the text! Always make sure you got consent when you decide to be kinky!

1.18am.

1.19am.

1.20am.

You were in bed, waiting for the return of your girls but even you couldn’t fight the exhaustion of the day that finally caught you. Before you drifted off into sleep, you left a note on the nightstand ‘Missing you.. feel free to wake me up however you please ;)’ - and therefore giving them consent to.. well, wake you up however they please. A cuddle, a kiss.. someone between your thighs, didn’t matter.

1.32am.

Yuki was the first to return from her mission, covered in curse blood and guts and other unidentifiable substances.

The blonde quietly enters the bedroom, aware that surely you must be asleep by now, and she was right. There you were, wrapped around her blanket with Shoko’s pillow tightly in your clutch.

“Hi Princess..” she greets softly, aware you’re not going to reply. She brushes away a loose strand of hair, her hand now resting on your cheek as she places a gentle kiss upon your forehead. With the intention of taking a shower Yuki stands up just as quickly as she sat down next to you mere moments ago.

Then the note catches her attention, and she reads through it in a haste, already having a hunch of what it might say.

And she’s correct, like usual.

“Look at you.. naughty girl” she chuckles to herself, and disappears into the bathroom.

A few moments, maybe 3 or 4 minutes after Yuki stepped into the shower, Shoko returned as well.

Her gaze wanders through the living room which connected to the open kitchen and the adjacent bedroom, and it halters at the glass of whiskey on the coffee table and another note directed at her.

‘Hi honey, hope the shift wasn’t too exhausting. Did you know that camel’s have very efficient livers? You know, because they don’t get to drink much and need to keep as much water as they can when they do, hence the efficient livers. Maybe you should get one of those for yourself ;)?’ You love telling Shoko all about the little facts you know and learn about, it’s practically a love language at this point. But so did she, always happy to listen to you. Your voice was comforting but so was just your presence. You, you were comforting. A bright sunshine illuminating the darkness of the sorcery world.

Cheeky little thing, she thinks to herself sipping the warm, smokey liquor as the corner of her mouth twisted upwards. A smirk at your sly little comment. Shoko knows she drinks a lot, but how else is she supposed to cope with the stress of her occupation?

The answer is clear: booze, cigarettes, you.

She enters the bedroom, although a little startled as she didn’t except to walk right into the blonde beast of a woman, Yuki.

“Hey Love.. how you doin’?” Yuki grins, wrapping her arm around Shoko’s waist and pulling her closer. “Have you seen the video already?” Shoko chuckles, her voice low and raspy and wanting. “Ugh, yes. Poor kid had to finish the rest of the curses, had to get home..” Yuki mumbles against Shoko’s neck while placing kisses on it, marking the brunette’s pale neck with a hickey and a bite mark. Shoko hums in agreement with lips slightly parted at the burning sensation. It’s easy to notice the change of Yuki’s voice. It isn’t as high and clear as usual, but an octave, or two, deeper, huskily whispering dirty words into Shoko’s ear “Missed you sooo much.. couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout my gorgeous girls..can’t wait to bend her o’er ‘nd fuck her nice and good, pretty princess can eat you out in the meantime. How does that sound?”

Shoko shudders at the image of Yuki’s proposal, leaning her head to the side so Yuki can reach more of her skin and a sigh escapes her throat. “Mhm, would like that. Had a shitty day”

“Let’s wake bunny then, hm? Don’t think she’d mind, considering video and note she left us ‘nd stuff” She grins, holding up the note and showing it to Shoko. The doctor is quick to read through it, and as a result of your lovely invitation is now crawling between your thighs, eager to wake you up.

Shoko loves your thighs, how soft and pretty they are, always marked up by her and Yuki with numerous love bites and hickeys and bruises, how they always wrap around her when she drags her own cunt across yours slowly, teasingly.

Shoko is a tease.

She’s quick to pull down your panties, her panties originally, and reveals your glistening core to Yuki and herself, and immediately latches onto it with her lipgloss stained lips. You shift slightly, but still fast asleep. Shoko hums, your sweet taste coating her tongue and driving her just a littttle insane.

“Fuck, how she tastes?” Yuki groans at the vulgar view in front of her as she lays down next to your sleeping, warm, so incredibly good smelling body and runs her much larger hand across your chest. Slowly it pulls the vintage shirt up your torso, finally exposing your braless tits. Soft, warm, so pretty. So easy to use, easy to handle and play with as they please.

Shoko only hums satisfied, working your hot, throbbing mess between your thighs with her tongue and lips. With half lidded eyes and a flushed nose -it always reddens when Shoko is aroused, it’s a telltale sign- she can’t ignore her own wet cunt anymore, and finally she musters up the motivation to let her hand snake down her lower body. Since your eyes are still closed, they find Yuki’s instead and fixate on them as she continues to lap at your continuously-growing-wetter cunt and shoving two pretty, long fingers up her own dripping hole.

“Fuck love, look at you..” Yuki hums, her hand pinching and rolling over your nipples and eyes wandering over your body, and then Shoko’s, following the doctor’s hand downwards with quite a fixation.

Shoko likes being watched. Shoko also likes watching. Yuki likes to record and film all of the filthy things the three of you do. Yuki also likes fucking you dumb while Shoko drags at her cigarette, touching herself.

And you?

You, sweet thing, are a kinky whore for them.

Doesn’t matter if it’s Shoko toying with you, simply because she wants to. Edging you until you’re a crying mess, begging her to finally let you cum, or placing a vibrator against your swollen clit and playing with it on her phone. She insisted that she can control the black toy through her phone and a strong enough connection for her to play around on her phone even if you’re not in her immediate vicinity.

Doesn’t matter if it’s Yuki overstimulating you instead, making you cum over and over again and torturing your poor cunt until you just can’t take it anymore. But if you think she’s done with you simply because you can’t cum anymore, you’re mistaken. Instead, she simply holds you tightly, making sure you can’t wiggle out of her strong arms while you cockwarm her strap.

It’s torture, sweet torture, your two favorite women on opposite ends when it comes to fucking you senseless. Strong, direct Yuki never getting enough of you and taking what she wants directly, bending you over the nearest surface or throwing you into the air, your core now in Yuki’s immediate reach as she holds you up with your thighs thrown over her shoulders.

And calculated, teasing Shoko driving you insane with her ghostly touches and faux sympathy, getting you all desperate and whiny and making you beg like a bitch in heat until she finally lets you cum- but never even stopping her cruel stimulation to let you catch your breath, never giving you the chance to hold back your orgasm as efficiently as you wanted to.

You’re their sweet girl, their precious Angel and the love of their lives, but you’re also their plaything. Entertainment for them. A way for Shoko to relive her stress after patching up sorcerers and students alike. Yuki’s very own workout, showcasing her strength, her endurance and making those muscles of hers work to catapult you into ecstasy.

Your sudden movement startles Yuki for a moment, not having expected for you to wake up so quickly. But you just can’t help it, the stimulation making you whimper even in your sleep. “Hnm..fuck..” you gasp and wrap your hand around Yuki’s wrist, something to hold onto while Shoko licks up your cunt, pressing against your clit.

The air was thick, heavy with need and love. “Hey there, bunny” Yuki greets but not stopping her determined touches and pinching your nipple between her index and thumb. The little squeak of yours at the subtle sting pulls Shoko out of her trance, and she pauses for a moment.

“Hi Angel. We missed you” the sultry purr of her voice causes you to breathe out heavily like you just ran a marathon, eyebrows furrowed and eyes screwed together.

“H-hi Sho.. ahh, please, please keep going!” You whine and wiggle and bury your fingers into her hair, trying your best to keep Shoko between your thighs. Barely awake and already chasing the dizzying high, cute. “Easy now, pretty girl” she warns, nipping at your inner thigh.

You knew better than to get impatient, to get greedy but you just can’t help yourself, can you? No, you can’t, you’re needy and aroused and you just need Shoko to finally eat your cunt like it’s her last meal in this world. Like it’s her very own, personal last supper.

“Shooo..” you draw out, pathetic whimper echoing through the bedroom. “C’mon.. just- just do it already!” You beg, or at least you try to, but it’s more like a command than anything else. Something Shoko isn’t pleased with. She trained you better than that, and she removes herself from between your legs entirely to remind you of that. Shoko adores you, she will reach out to the stars and pull the moon from the night sky if you had asked her to. But there’s no need for that, you got your moon right here, in front of you. And the sun, with her warm touches and soft breaths tickling your neck, laying next to you.

And you? You’re their star. Shining bright, always leading them back home. Even after cruel night shifts at the infirmary, or exorcising one curse after another. The moon and the sun always return to their star.

“Needy little bitch” your favorite doctor sighs, circling the bed to reach into the nightstand, retrieving some rope. “If you can’t be patient, I ought to remind you of your manners. Don’t you think?” She explains calmly, rarely ever getting worked up. She doesn’t need to be, the slight change of her tone enough to put you back into your place. She doesn’t need to get worked up because you’re entirely aware that if she does, Shoko will make you cry and she will not stop until you call out your safe word. Since you intent to cum, you obey, like an obedient pup and nod.

She hums satisfied, her raspy voice causing a shiver to run down your spine right into your core, Shoko cooing and comforting you. “You’re going to be good for me, yeah? Going to behave now? I know you can do it, you can be a good pup, hm? Just need to be reminded, occasionally” the older woman hums, twisting and wrapping the rope around your wrists and securing them behind your back. Then, with practiced ease -it’s not the first time Shoko has tied you up with the same, delicate hands that also heal you when you get a little too reckless on your missions once again- Shoko places the rope down your chest right between your breasts and around your waist.

She’s subduing you, clearly not wanting you to be able to move around too much. But why? To edge you?

No. No, she isn’t going to edge you. Instead, after you’re rendered immobile, Shoko straddles Yuki’s lap, placing a tender kiss upon the bridge of her nose. Yuki had been patiently watching the both of you, lazily running her hand up and down her body to try and ease her own growing want.

Now, you might assume Shoko to always be the dominant one, considering how she treats you. Right?

Wrong. Not with Yuki. Around Yuki, even Shoko is docile, submissive.

And the only thing you’re capable of doing right now is watching them- your pretty girlfriends as they kiss and bite and claw at each other, watching as Yuki’s hands creep underneath Shoko’s turtleneck, her hands cupping her soft tits. You tried to rub your thighs together, create some sort of stimulation to ease the throbbing between your thighs but to no avail, Shoko had tied you up just too well.

Curse her skilled hands, may they be damned for eternity.

Now, if you look away you might be able to calm down a little, catch your breath but Shoko wouldn’t really like that. Besides, watching Yuki’s hand slowly moving between your doctor’s thighs, putting gentle pressure against her panties causing her to sigh..

Yea, you’d much rather keep watching, not caring too intensely about your own arousal. If you’re good and behave now, surely they will make you cum. Right?

Right?

“Fuck babe, look’t her.. poor thing can barely keep it together” Yuki chuckles amused, her left hand rubbing delicate circles on Shoko’s tense shoulders, the right one playing with her sopping cunt, the vulgar squelches ringing in your ears.

“Listen up, Angel. Be good and keep your eyes on us, okay? If you do that, we’ll make you cum” Shoko commands, her voice far too self-assured for it to be a simple offer. And you nod eagerly, your eyes wide and big and hopeful. “Yes! Yes any-anything you want, Sho” you bark like an excited puppy, ready to do whatever she wants, whatever she might ask of you.

Both Yuki and Shoko spoil you rotten, treat you like you’re sculpted by god herself, protect and take care of you.

But you better behave when they let their frustrations out on you in return, thighs spread and chest pushed out for their taking. Consensual, of course. Neither would ever do anything that could put you at harm or make you feel uncomfortable in any shape or form, but they loveeee pushing you beyond your limits again and again, slowly, taking you further each time they fuck you.

Yuki is splayed across Shoko, limbs twisted around each other, her muscular thigh dragging across her cunt. Both are undressed, finally, and you’re watching them closely. Yuki’s back and thigh muscles working to pleasure Shoko, her raspy moans causing you to shiver and the wet, sloppy noises of her cunt rubbing across the special grade sorcerer’s leg. Sinful, dirty.

It’s filthy, the image in front of you, your girlfriends making out with teeth clashing aggression, Shoko rutting against Yuki chasing her high while Yuki is mindlessly pumping two- or maybe three?- of her digits in and out of her plump cunt.

But you, poor puppy, can’t do shit right now. You’re stuck like Shoko has left you previously, body entrapped in rope and unable to move. Needy, so needy and desperate for a hand or two touching and grabbing at you. But you’re far too focused to keep your teary, glossy eyes on the doctor and special grade, blonde and brunette hair sticking to their forehead respectively and using each other’s body to reach their climax. It’s primal, animalistic with no regards to space or time. All that matters is fucking and fucking and fucking. Cumming over and over again, kissing and loving and touching each other.

Shoko’s eyes- have they always been so dark? ? And Yuki, the way she’s grinding and moving her digits, has her voice always been so high pitched? But fuck, they look so good, sound so good, smell sooo incredibly good. Shoko’s voice has always been a little rough, but it sounds so fucking pretty when she’s moaning and panting against Yuki’s neck. And just watching Yuki work to bring Shoko -and herself- to climax, it’s about the most attractive thing you’ve ever witnessed.

The blonde’s squeak tears you out of your trance as the doctor finally reached her orgasm, biting into Yuki’s shoulder without any regards if it hurts just a little too much. After all, Shoko may just be a little sadistic.

“Fuck baby, watch those teeth..” Yuki sighs, cheeks flushed and fingers twitching, sticky and glistening in the soft lighting coated in her own arousal. Her climax, obviously.

A few minutes pass, both of the older women coming down from their high and you still kneeling all pretty and behaved next to them, a single droplet of your saliva running down the corner of your mouth. A dog, a filthy bitch ready to be pushed over and taken, like an animal. You want, no, need it.

Yuki is the first to move and ties her long, golden hair into a ponytail. Fuck. Finally. A clear sign you’re finally going to get what you have been craving since you returned home- Yuki fucking you stupid with her pretty, clear strap, the ponytail keeping her hair out of her face as she bullies the silicone cock into your sweet cunt.

Now Shoko is crawling over to you, and releases the ropes while carefully caressing the red marks it left on your soft skin. “Ready, Angel? Think you can take it? Just relax, let her take control” She muses, kissing up and down your jaw and throat, her pearly teeth grazing your skin.

The mattress sinks at the sudden weight next to you and large hands hold onto your shoulders, massaging them as her hot breath fans across your nape. “How d’you want it, princess? Keep your mouth busy while I fuck you from b’hind?” She giggles, her bright voice cutting the tension built up around you, and you nod.

“Use your words, cutie” she hums, kisses tickling your shoulders, your neck all the way up to your ears. “Ye-yes! Yes please, Sir!” You bark out, voice whiny and trembling and breaking ever so slightly.

Sir. Sir.

You don’t remember when you first called Yuki the honorific, but afterwards she was relentless with you, didn’t stop fucking into you and coaxing one orgasm after another out of you. That day something snapped in her, and you’ve been addicted to the sweet violence since then. Yuki could snap you in two like a twig, if she wanted to. Of course she doesn’t, but she still makes use of her strength when holding you down to fuck into you while she’ll be telling you how much she loves and adores you.

Consensual, of course. Neither Shoko or Yuki would have ever touched you in the first place, if you hadn’t established a safe word. They might fuck and treat you like a whore in bed, but they still adore you more than words could describe, you’re still -and always will be- their sweet girl.

What’s that saying? Gentleman in the streets, freak in the sheets? Yea, that’s what they are.

Not a second too much, and you were pushed over, your ass flush against her groin with long fingers entangled in your hair which were pushing your head into Shoko’s cunt.

In other words: heaven. This was heaven right here, right now. Shoko’s enticing scent is making you dizzy, her taste makes you feel lightheaded. It’s like she’s choking you, without actually putting a finger on you. Kinky.

“Go ahead, Angel. Use your pretty mouth, won’t you now?” The brunette engages with quite the excited look on her face. She always gets a little.. giddy, actually, when you’re about to lap and lick at her cunt, well aware that you won’t disappoint. Your vigor and your excitement to be lucky enough for Shoko to wrap her legs around your head, as well as your -natural, if I might add- endurance and talent at such things makes for quite the exciting combination.

“Yea c’mon bunny, don’t mind me..” Yuki groans as she slowly, veeery slowly, bullies the tip into your twitching hole, eyes fixated and pupils blown wide. Yuki looks feral, and she very much feels the same.

Shoko? Shoko is lost, entirely lost in the feeling of your tongue pushing against her clit with a sweet mewl. Sometimes she wishes she was born a male, or at least had a dick like one, curious how it would feel like hammering into your mouth, pouty lips clinging around it. And fuck, she looks so good. So pretty, dark hair a little disheveled and darker eyes staring right into your soul. Can she see it? See your admiration and respect for her? How you’re just so eager to make her feel good, to be good?

The sudden snap of the blonde’s hips redirects your focus back on the strap buried in your cunt. The pleasurable pain of her stretching you out, filling the entire space and the tip kissing your cervix, it all just feels so fucking good. But when she starts to move, the fake cock dragging along your gummy walls and covered in your candy-sweet honey, it threatens to drown you.

As Yuki fucks into you over and over again, focused on making you cum -finally!-, the grasp on your hair tightens like a vice, reminding you of the task at hand. With a muffled moan you’re quick to lick and suck at the nub between your lips and Shoko involuntarily bucks her hips, still just a little sensitive from her former climax.

“So good, so damn good..” Yuki chants, each word accentuated with the snap of her hips towards you with a tight grip on your hips and hair.

“Atta Girl, just like that..!” The doctor praises at the same time, both of their praise encouraging you to surrender entirely.

Even the erotic sins of Sodom and Gomorra couldn’t compare to the events occurring in this very bedroom, your mewls and suppressed moans coaxed out one after another.

You were close, so very close to cumming, but would Yuki let you? No scratch that, would Shoko let you? Your lips tremble against her swollen cunt as your tongue runs along her slit, savoring the taste and how it’s sticking onto the tip of the muscle. If you make her cum, surely she’ll let you climax as well, so you shift your attention from the filling sensation of the special grade’s cock to the medic’s reaction and occasional twitch of her legs.

Picking up the pace a little, you’re now lapping at the sex like your life depends on it. Such an obedient dog. Shoko’s hand replaces Yuki’s, pulling at it, pulling you closer. But the blonde’s hand won’t stay dormant and finds its way to your hips, accompanying the other as her fingertips dig into the soft flesh, her strap thrusting into you relentlessly.

“Fuck, fuck pup, keep going!” Mrs. Ieiri pants huskily, gaze switching between you and Yuki, and with Yuki cowering over you and her errect nipples rubbing against your back even she can’t hold back quiet huffs and shaky moans.

You’re surrounded by them, their scent, their noises. Yuki’s tight hold on you, the stinging pain of Shoko scratching at your scalp, pulling your hair- it’s all too much. Fuck, is she cumming? Must be, your tongue and entire mouth is coated in her, drinking it up afraid to forthirst. Shit, Yuki is picking up the pace, isn’t she? It feels so good, so very good, the cock bullying into you over and over, her heavy panting against your spine driving you crazy. Too much, it’s too much it’s all just too much for you to take, poor thing. Threatens to spill over, your climax. Can’t hold it, can’t hold it back any longer, you have waited too long for this. What? What’s that? Oh god, Yuki’s hand circling your throbbing clit, is she trying to kill you? Whining and whimpering, like a puppy. Their puppy, such a good girl, so good for them.

Shoko’s moving, turning around, facing you. Finally. A bitemark on her bottom lip, did she bite it? Fuck, can’t think about that right now, not with her hammering into you like there’s no tomorrow. You can’t take anymore, the sensational sting combining with intoxicating pleasure, you’re so damn close to spilling. But you can’t, not yet. Not yet!

“Beg, and I might allow it..” she whispers against your ear, hands roaming over your body, lips pressed against your temple once again. A promise, or a threat? Might. She might allow it.

“Please- pret-pretty please, please! ‘M begging.. begging you, mhmpf please!!” You bark and mewl and beg, shaking all over, gasping every time she plunges back into your fluttering hole. “Please Sho, Sir, fu- fuck please!” A needy whine, desperate. You’re desperate, shameless. Nothing else matters right now. Fuck, shit, damn! The tip catches at the entrance, pulls at it slightly. Is it intentional? Yes of course it is, silly thing. She’s teasing, she always is. Not as much as Shoko, but enough. Enough for you right now to moan and pant. Bitch in heat, that’s what you are. So good, please Shoko just- just..!

“Look at you, so cute” she chuckles, clearly holding the reins right now. You wouldn’t have it any other way. Your face is flushed, big puppy eyes begging her, hopeful.

“Cum for me baby, go ahead..” Shoko finally allows, pulling your hair back so you look at her, sleepy eyes watching you closely. Finally, thank god finally! If Yuki heard? Oh fuck, she definitely did, proven by her deep strokes. Like a jackhammer, in and out. Deep, digging and drilling into your sore cunt, wet smacks and squelches combined with your pitiful moans and mewls the only sound within these walls. Her calloused hands, so used to delivering heavy hits and exorcising curses of all kinds of grades, massaging and kneading the soft, sweet flesh of your body trapped underneath her. Her lips kissing and nipping at your jaw, your throat, hickeys forming a trail, the same lips that wrap around her cigarettes or the opening of a bottle after another sorcerer lived or died. And you’re convinced you’ll surely die reaching your orgasm, but it’s worth it. It’s all worth it, for them. Just for them, only for your girlfriends.

You’re completely silent for a moment. Neither of the two women stop the assault on your body. She’s a devil, the devil Lucifer, you know she can put a stop to this with ease. She’s sadistic, she likes to see you suffer and break you down so she can put you back together afterwards, heal your bruises and cuts. Please don’t, please Shoko, let me cum. Be good to me, I’m praying to you. Don’t be mean, not now, not this time, waited too long. Like an Angel she’s fucking into you and you could bet it’s the halo on top of her head igniting your skin, not her plump lips. She’s getting you there, Yuki will make you cum, surely she will. But will she stop afterwards? Will she show mercy on your bruised and swollen cunt? You doubt it, experienced enough to know otherwise. It doesn’t matter, nothing matters. Only this moment, being surrounded by the two most important people of your life and them making, and letting you cum.

But something is missing, you’re so very close but it’s just not enough, and it ruins you. Crying out for release, silently praying to your gods to touch you more, to help you get there. Shoko understands, knows you so well. “Cum for me, now” assertive reminder causing you to shiver, her hand tightening around your throat. Fuck yes, just like that Shoko, keep going. You never realized how much you liked to be choked, but Shoko, with her expert hands and great knowledge of the human body, opened a whole new world for you. She will take you to the brink of blacking out, and then release her grip on your throat for oxygenated blood to rush back into your brain. Like she is right now, all while whispering sweet words into your ears. Yuki slows down just a little, but only for her thrusts to hit deeper and deeper, filling you to the brim, digits circling and stimulating your clit, other hand leaving imprints on your hip.

As Shoko releases her grip, your climax crashes down on you, engulfing you and every little nerve of your body. You’re on fire, it feels like liquid magma replaced your blood coursing through your veins, and you cry out. Of course Yuki isn’t stopping, why would she? You’re like a drug, seeing and, at least she’s convinced of it, feeling you clench around her strap all while shaking and twitching underneath her, caging you in to coax another orgasm out of you- stronger than fentanyl, than any other substance.

“Another one?” Yuki hums, the question not directed at you but at Shoko. With a sly smirk and nod, the special grade picks up the pace again and Shoko’s hand finds its way back to your throat, enveloping it gently, her thumb grazing over your skin.

You’re at their mercy now, little bunny, enjoy.

First series of mine is done!! Thanks for reading it hehe 👉👈 if you have any suggestions or requests for the next Drabble, lemme know 👀 Also I'm so sorry for the delay, oops.

[vintageshanny]

Don’t Go Changing

I wrote this for an anonymous request that Big Daddy Elvis walk in on reader while she’s changing and smut and fluff ensue. 18+ I hope you enjoy! 😘

I envisioned this taking place in 1976-77, but there’s no real date references, so you can imagine it however you wish! ❤️

You drummed your fingers anxiously against the inside of the door frame as the car pulled up the driveway and around to the carport. George glanced over at you with a little smile. “Nervous?”

“What? No,” you scoffed. “I get set up on dates with superstars all the time.” George had been friends with your older brother and sister for years, and apparently had decided that you’d be perfect for his other long-time friend, Elvis Presley. You knew plenty of girls would still jump at the chance to meet him, but you had hemmed and hawed over the decision. Sure, he’d always been easy on the eyes when your sister had dragged you along to some of his movies, and you enjoyed his music, but the posters on your wall growing up had been of David Ruffin and Stevie Wonder. Although you were a little embarrassed to admit it, your latest celebrity crush was Jackie Jackson, who was honestly much more age appropriate for you than Elvis. But George had pleaded with you to just meet Elvis and see how it went.

“I really think you’ll hit it off,” George was saying as he jumped out of the car and came around to open your door. “Just be yourself. Elvis is usually very warm and friendly, nothing to be scared about.” You just nodded wordlessly as you stepped out of the car and smoothed down your pale pink eyelet sundress.

George led the way through the back door into what appeared to be a very gaudy den area where a handful of people were sitting around, talking and laughing. Every surface seemed to be covered with green carpeting, and the furniture was all elaborately carved. Your heart skipped a beat when you spotted Elvis sitting in a high-backed chair. As you locked eyes with him, you could feel a magnetic attraction that seemed to pull all of the reservations right out of you. He rose from his chair and strode over to you. His face was definitely fuller than what you remembered from the movies, but the trademark crooked grin that spread across it as he approached you sent a flutter through your body that caught you completely off guard. Elvis beamed as George introduced the two of you.

“Nice ta meet ya honey,” he drawled as he pulled you into a big hug, the swell of his belly pressing into you. The affection was making you weak in the knees. Elvis smiled as he pulled back and noticed the flush spreading over your cheeks. “Ya okay, doll?” he teased. “Ya ain’t scared of me, are ya?”

“No, no, um, it’s just, uh, kind of warm in here,” you whispered, knowing full well that everyone in the room could see that your face was on fire.

Elvis just chuckled and nodded. “It is a little warm in here. But now that you’re here, we can go swimmin’. Ya brought a bathing suit, right?” You nodded and motioned to the tote bag that you were clutching. George had warned you to bring a swimsuit and change of clothes because you never knew what Elvis might suddenly be in the mood for. Elvis grabbed your free hand and pulled you down a little hallway toward the bathroom. “You can change in here, honey, then jus’ go outside that way toward the pool,” he pointed. “I’ll be waitin’ for ya out there.”

You pulled on your swimsuit and examined yourself in the bathroom mirror, certain you had worn the wrong thing. Your royal blue one-piece had a halter neck that showed off your cleavage a little bit, but the bottom had a skirt that covered your thighs. You figured that Elvis was used to being around actresses and models, and you felt insecure showing too much of yourself. Now you worried that you looked too frumpy though. Just be yourself, you repeated George’s advice in your head. If he likes you, great. If not, his loss. With one last glance in the mirror, you turned and headed for the pool.

The others were already splashing around and playing a game of keep-away with a beach ball, but Elvis was relaxing on a lounge chair, his head tilted toward the sun, still wearing the powder blue tracksuit he’d had on when you arrived. You approached his chair and cleared your throat. “Are you, um, not going in the water?” you asked, clinging shyly to the pale pink beach towel you had brought.

“I was jus’ waitin’ for you, honey,” Elvis smiled, turning your insides right back to jelly. “Y’know,” he continued as he stood to remove his tracksuit, revealing a navy blue T-shirt and swim trunks underneath, “I do have towels here sweetheart. I wouldn’t have made ya stand out in the sun ta dry off.”

“I didn’t think you would,” you laughed, trying not to let your gaze linger too long on his sturdy thighs, “but George said to come prepared, so I didn’t want to take any chances.”

“And did ya?” Elvis asked with a little smirk.

“Did I what?” you responded, confused.

“Come prepared,” Elvis smiled, his blue eyes twinkling behind his tinted glasses.

“Oh,” you giggled nervously. “I don’t think so, actually. I wasn’t really prepared to like you so much.” The awkward words tumbled out before you could stop them. Elvis tilted his head back and let out a big laugh as you blushed profusely. “I mean,” you continued on, “it’s not like I’m some groupie and you’re, y’know, a bit older than me and, I mean, oh my gosh, I’m sorry, that was so rude, I didn’t mean, it’s just that you’re so nice and funny and cute and I wasn’t expecting…” your voice trailed off as Elvis’ laughter grew louder.

“Wow, ya really had high hopes for me, huh?” he teased, trying to recover from his amusement.

At that, you started giggling a bit too. “I’m sorry, I guess I just kept digging myself in deeper and deeper.”

“That’s okay, honey, it’s nice ta know I can still take people by surprise,” he joked with a wink. “Now let’s cool off. I can’t tell if that’s a blush or a sunburn covering you.” Elvis grabbed your hand and led you down into the water. As you passed through the game everyone was playing, Elvis suddenly dove for the ball. He came up sputtering and laughing, tossing the ball to you to keep the game going. As one of the other guys, whose name you couldn’t recall from George’s introductions earlier, lunged toward you to get it back, Elvis quickly grabbed it and tossed it to the other end of the pool. “Y’all stay down there with that,” he snapped as he shot the guy a glare for daring to get close to you, seemingly forgetting his own role in joining the game. He pulled you over to the side of the pool and smiled again. “Tell me more about yourself, honey.”

As you chatted with Elvis about your recent graduation from UT Memphis and what you were thinking of doing next, you couldn’t help but notice how his T-shirt, now soaking wet, clung to him like a second skin. You could see very clearly the bumps of his nipples and the raised pattern where a trail of hair led down from his chest to his stomach and beyond. It was like a very sexy topographical map. It was taking everything in you not to reach out and touch him.

“Honey, wh-wh-what do ya keep lookin’ down at?” Elvis asked with a frown. “Do I got somethin’ on myself?”

“No, I’m sorry, it’s nothing like that,” you blushed, caught red-handed checking him out.

“W-w-well what is it? T-t-tell me what you’re thinkin’ ‘bout.” Elvis sounded almost nervous, and for the first time you realized he might have insecurities too. You’d been so focused on your own nerves that you hadn’t even questioned why he would wear a shirt in the pool in the first place.

You leaned in closer, your breasts brushing up against his chest as you whispered nervously, “It’s just that I think you’re so sexy. It’s hard for me to stop looking at your body.” You pulled back in time to see Elvis’ eyes widen and his face turn a brilliant shade of red.

“I feel the same way about you, honey,” he murmured as he leaned in and softly pressed his lips against yours, apparently unconcerned about anyone else witnessing this display of affection. A little shiver ran through your body, and you could feel your nipples harden against his soft chest. Elvis pulled back, a blissful smile spread across his face. “Ya cold, baby? Ya wanna go inside with me?” You nodded, feeling a compulsive urge to follow him absolutely anywhere. “We’re gonna go in and have a little tour,” Elvis announced to his friends as the two of you got out and dried off. “Y’all can stay out here.” You slipped your hand into Elvis’ as you headed back inside. “Where ya goin’, baby?” Elvis asked as you walked back toward the bathroom.

“I was just going to change back into my clothes,” you responded, a little confused.

“Bring ‘em upstairs, honey, you can change in my bathroom. It’s a lot more spacious, and then we can keep gettin’ ta know each other.” You grabbed your bag of clothes and followed him, wondering just how well you’d get to know each other. As soon as you entered the dark, cool bedroom, you could feel the nerves set in. As if completely attuned to your emotions, Elvis squeezed your hand reassuringly. “Honey, we ain’t gonna do anything you don’t wanna do. I-I-I really like ya and jus’ wanna keep talkin’, okay?” You smiled and nodded. “Look, you can go right in the bathroom and change. I’ll be out here.”

“Thanks, Elvis. I really like you too,” you whispered, feeling suddenly very shy again now that the two of you were alone together. You slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. As you reached back to untie the halter neck of your suit, you realized that in your nervous state while putting it on, you had knotted it way too tightly. The water had tightened the knot even more, and now it was completely stuck. “Shoot,” you muttered as you kept picking at the knot. There was a soft rap at the door.

“Honey, ya okay?” Elvis called out.

“Yes, I’m almost done!” you lied, starting to feel panicked. You were too embarrassed to ask him for help getting undressed. Out of sheer determination, you finally loosened the knot and untied it. Right as you rolled your still-damp swimsuit all the way down your body and stepped out of it, there was another soft knock. Before you could answer, Elvis opened the door gingerly.

“Honey, are you sure you’re okay?” he started to ask before his voice trailed off to nothing, his jaw dropped a little bit at the sight of you standing there completely naked.

“Elvis!” you shrieked, trying to cover yourself with your hands. “Don’t look! I’m naked!”

“Well I can see that honey,” Elvis couldn’t help teasing. “What’d ya say before? Somethin’ about bein’ so sexy it’s hard not to look?”

“Elvis, it’s not funny! I’m embarrassed,” you whimpered, still trying to cover your top half with one hand and your bottom half with the other.

“Honey, you ain’t got a thing to be embarrassed about. You were hidin’ all that under that swimsuit? Goddamn,” he let out a low whistle as he gently moved your hands out of the way and pulled you in close to him, looking you up and down. He let one of his hands trace slowly down your side, over the curve of your hip, while the other reached around and gave your butt a squeeze.

“Elvis, I-” you started to protest but the words didn’t seem to want to come out after all.

“I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean ta embarrass ya. I really thought ya were changed already. Do ya want me ta stop?” he whispered into your ear, the warmth of his breath tickling you.

“Don’t stop, Elvis,” you whispered as you leaned up and kissed him passionately, your tongues dancing together.

“Mmm,” Elvis moaned as he walked you back toward the counter and hoisted you on top of it. “I won’t stop until ya say so.”

“Wait, Elvis, before you do anything, can you, um, let me see you?” you whispered.

Elvis blushed and shrugged. “I guess fair is fair,” he said as he pulled off the dry shirt he had changed into. You could feel yourself growing slick at the sight of his broad hairy chest and soft belly.

“What about those?” you asked, nodding toward his pants.

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, baby,” Elvis teased. “You jus’ relax and let me make ya feel good.” He spread your legs apart and groaned at the sight of your arousal. He slipped two of his fingers through your folds and slid them inside of you.

“Oh, god,” you moaned as you reached out and ran your hands over his chest, down his stomach, and gently palmed what was growing hard inside his pants. Elvis let his tongue travel down your neck and over your chest as he continued pumping his fingers, crooking them just right to hit a spot that drove you wild. You explored his body as much as you could with your hands, and when you pulled him in for another deep kiss, you noticed he was panting just as much as you were. The simultaneous action of his hands and tongue finally took you right over the edge, your moans filling the room.

“I’m sorry, I usually don’t move so quickly with anyone,” you whispered as you came down from your state of euphoria, wondering what he must think of you.

“Neither do I,” he grinned. “But I can tell you’re somethin’ special that deserves to be taken care of.”

“Can I, um, take care of you?” you asked, looking down at where you had felt his chubby length through his pants.

Elvis grinned that sweet crooked grin again. “We should probably save somethin’ for next time, huh?” You smiled back, but you had noticed that there was a suspicious wet spot on his pants, and the noises he’d been making started to make a lot of sense. “Here honey, jus’ put this on and come lay by me,” Elvis said, handing you a silky robe from a hook by the door. “I jus’ wanna hold ya.”

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @lookingforrainbows @thatbanditqueen @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @arrolyn1114