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PrinceTulip
Meteorite
- Joined
- Dec 1, 2020
Hi all! I’m PrinceTulip, although you can just call me Tulip.
So, this is my first attempt at a request thread and it's going to be pretty bare-bones as I slowly add more to it. Also totally open to suggestions for it as well if anyone has any tips for me. I play the M in MxF pairings, and i'm also open to playing monsters and beasts (for the right plot).
What i'm looking for:
ORIGINALITY: I am not really looking for any fandom role plays in this thread, although I will list a few at the bottom, the plot itself will have to be particularly juicy. Otherwise, stick to OC x OC!
QUALITY OVER QUANTITY
- I don't want to be writing over 5-6ish paragraphs regularly. My ideal range is around 3-4 JUICY paragraphs with plenty of detail, and while I am comfortable and willing to go above / below that metric, I tend to like existing in there
SMUT & STORY:
- Really, it depends on the plot. I am totally okay with any sort of "ratio" here or just letting it organically happen. Feel free to ask me questions.
KINKS: First and foremost, i'm going to link my f-list here - below will be some of the things i'm really CRAVING.
cheating/cuckolding
anal
anything with MILFs
gangbangs (I enjoy writing multiple characters)
goths
Finally, PAIRINGS:
(son's) bully x mom/sister
sister x brother
mom x son's friends
mom x neighbor
twitch streamer x fan
dad x daughter
sister x brother's friend(s)
nerd(s) x it-girl
jock x nerd
knight x princess
viking x princess
Finally, down here are some previous starters that never really took off as role plays. Feel free to take a look to get a sense of my writing style/length (although full disclaimer most of these are old) and you are welcome to start one up again with me or take over one of these. I'll mark them off as they're taken. Or if you just have any questions or want to use them as inspiration for a new plot with me.
So, this is my first attempt at a request thread and it's going to be pretty bare-bones as I slowly add more to it. Also totally open to suggestions for it as well if anyone has any tips for me. I play the M in MxF pairings, and i'm also open to playing monsters and beasts (for the right plot).
What i'm looking for:
ORIGINALITY: I am not really looking for any fandom role plays in this thread, although I will list a few at the bottom, the plot itself will have to be particularly juicy. Otherwise, stick to OC x OC!
QUALITY OVER QUANTITY
- I don't want to be writing over 5-6ish paragraphs regularly. My ideal range is around 3-4 JUICY paragraphs with plenty of detail, and while I am comfortable and willing to go above / below that metric, I tend to like existing in there
SMUT & STORY:
- Really, it depends on the plot. I am totally okay with any sort of "ratio" here or just letting it organically happen. Feel free to ask me questions.
KINKS: First and foremost, i'm going to link my f-list here - below will be some of the things i'm really CRAVING.
cheating/cuckolding
anal
anything with MILFs
gangbangs (I enjoy writing multiple characters)
goths
Finally, PAIRINGS:
(son's) bully x mom/sister
sister x brother
mom x son's friends
mom x neighbor
twitch streamer x fan
dad x daughter
sister x brother's friend(s)
nerd(s) x it-girl
jock x nerd
knight x princess
viking x princess
Finally, down here are some previous starters that never really took off as role plays. Feel free to take a look to get a sense of my writing style/length (although full disclaimer most of these are old) and you are welcome to start one up again with me or take over one of these. I'll mark them off as they're taken. Or if you just have any questions or want to use them as inspiration for a new plot with me.
Sat on one of the reclining chairs in the central living room of the house, Killion had his eyes trained on a particular girl whom had walked in with some skinny white dude earlier in the night. Despite the crowded living room and loud music playing, the dimmed lights and people shouting and laughing, his deep brown gaze was focused on the goth bimbo sitting with her mediocre man. His gaze drank in her figure and form, low breathing escaping him as his broad chest rose and fell while he reclined in the seat and stared. He didn't seem particularly interested in his buddy sitting beside him, talking about how fat one of the asses on a bitch in the kitchen was, and urging him to help wingman him. Killion had one girl in mind, and she was sitting there talking to some lackluster white dude.
God, she was dressed like such a fucking slut too. He himself wore a simple pair of grey sweatpants, and a black crewneck sweatshirt that lacked any sort of graphic. On his feet were a pair of low-top retro Jordan 1's, with socks disappearing underneath his sweatpants. Around his thick neck hung a heavy gold chain, his hair was cut short and he was clean-shaven with a dangerously sharp jawline and defined cheekbones. He knew he had to have her, and he could care less about that dude sitting beside her, or whether she wanted him or not.
His eyes lit-up as he saw her push up from the couch and start down towards the bathroom, where he decided to follow suit. Shoving himself up and interjecting into whatever nonsense his friend was spewing, he cut through his words with a cool, "Yeah, whatever. I gotta use the restroom."
Shoving his way through people to catch up to her, he watched as she went to check out the line of the downstairs restroom; it had nearly five people waiting for it, before she turned and located the stairs and started to climb them towards the upstairs restroom. Much better, he thought, no one would hear her moans from up there. The loud music of the party started to grow fainter as he climbed up the stairs after her, turning down the hallway towards the bathroom. His eyes drank in her figure, before he began to open up his stride to cut the distance between them to nothing, stepping infront of her and slamming the door to the bathroom shut, planting his hand against the wall and careening over her. Staring down at her, he offered her a slight grin, tilting his head off to one side, "Upstairs bathroom is off-limits, you know?" His eyes flickered down to her cleavage, before sliding back up to her face. She was pretty, too, this really was looking up.
He stepped towards her, backing her away from the bathroom now, walking towards her slowly. "You really ought to head back downstairs, guests aren't allowed upstairs sweetheart." He offered her a slightly genuine smile, nodding his head towards the stairs once more.
As she turned, he stepped up against her, wrapping his broad and muscular right arm around her neck and pulling her body back against his own. He set his left palm over her mouth, tilting his head down slightly to press his lips near her ear and whisper to her, "Shhh, shhh, don't scream. You scream i'll have to beat the shit out of your boyfriend, and I don't think either of us want that. Then again, it might be exciting if he watches me fuck you." He grinned against her ear, before stepping backwards and starting back towards one of the bedroom doors that was ajar. Stepping backwards and into it, he pulled her body taut against his and grinded his hips gently into hers as he pulled her into the room.
She could feel the fat mushroom head of his black cock press against her ass through their clothing, swollen and thick with a combination of blood and sinful desire. His broad palm was cutting off her air, clamped around her mouth to keep her from crying out as he pulled her backwards into the bedroom with him. His hard, rigid body pressed against her smaller frame, slightly hunched over her as he held her pressed up against him. He threw the door shut with his free hand, before returning it to grip her hip and pull her towards the bed with him. "You feel that, baby? You'll be loving it before you know it." He reached over with his hand now, keeping one over her mouth, and groping one of her tits roughly. "Man, that fucking bitch down there doesn't know how to handle all this. You'll be begging me for more once I'm done with you. You scream and it'll be a lot worse." He reminds her of his warning again, before roughly shoving her onto the bed and letting go of her completely.
He pivots again, turning the lock on the door before starting back over towards where she had been tossed effortlessly onto the bed.
God, she was dressed like such a fucking slut too. He himself wore a simple pair of grey sweatpants, and a black crewneck sweatshirt that lacked any sort of graphic. On his feet were a pair of low-top retro Jordan 1's, with socks disappearing underneath his sweatpants. Around his thick neck hung a heavy gold chain, his hair was cut short and he was clean-shaven with a dangerously sharp jawline and defined cheekbones. He knew he had to have her, and he could care less about that dude sitting beside her, or whether she wanted him or not.
His eyes lit-up as he saw her push up from the couch and start down towards the bathroom, where he decided to follow suit. Shoving himself up and interjecting into whatever nonsense his friend was spewing, he cut through his words with a cool, "Yeah, whatever. I gotta use the restroom."
Shoving his way through people to catch up to her, he watched as she went to check out the line of the downstairs restroom; it had nearly five people waiting for it, before she turned and located the stairs and started to climb them towards the upstairs restroom. Much better, he thought, no one would hear her moans from up there. The loud music of the party started to grow fainter as he climbed up the stairs after her, turning down the hallway towards the bathroom. His eyes drank in her figure, before he began to open up his stride to cut the distance between them to nothing, stepping infront of her and slamming the door to the bathroom shut, planting his hand against the wall and careening over her. Staring down at her, he offered her a slight grin, tilting his head off to one side, "Upstairs bathroom is off-limits, you know?" His eyes flickered down to her cleavage, before sliding back up to her face. She was pretty, too, this really was looking up.
He stepped towards her, backing her away from the bathroom now, walking towards her slowly. "You really ought to head back downstairs, guests aren't allowed upstairs sweetheart." He offered her a slightly genuine smile, nodding his head towards the stairs once more.
As she turned, he stepped up against her, wrapping his broad and muscular right arm around her neck and pulling her body back against his own. He set his left palm over her mouth, tilting his head down slightly to press his lips near her ear and whisper to her, "Shhh, shhh, don't scream. You scream i'll have to beat the shit out of your boyfriend, and I don't think either of us want that. Then again, it might be exciting if he watches me fuck you." He grinned against her ear, before stepping backwards and starting back towards one of the bedroom doors that was ajar. Stepping backwards and into it, he pulled her body taut against his and grinded his hips gently into hers as he pulled her into the room.
She could feel the fat mushroom head of his black cock press against her ass through their clothing, swollen and thick with a combination of blood and sinful desire. His broad palm was cutting off her air, clamped around her mouth to keep her from crying out as he pulled her backwards into the bedroom with him. His hard, rigid body pressed against her smaller frame, slightly hunched over her as he held her pressed up against him. He threw the door shut with his free hand, before returning it to grip her hip and pull her towards the bed with him. "You feel that, baby? You'll be loving it before you know it." He reached over with his hand now, keeping one over her mouth, and groping one of her tits roughly. "Man, that fucking bitch down there doesn't know how to handle all this. You'll be begging me for more once I'm done with you. You scream and it'll be a lot worse." He reminds her of his warning again, before roughly shoving her onto the bed and letting go of her completely.
He pivots again, turning the lock on the door before starting back over towards where she had been tossed effortlessly onto the bed.
The sack of the keep had taken little more than a few hours. With the elven forces decimated on the field of battle, and the capital being left under-garrisoned along with the full might of the rebellion knocking at the city's gates, it did not take long for them to submit. The once-beautiful streets of the city, marbled and constructed at the golden age of the rule, were now dirtied with depictions of war. Blood stained the white stone, soaked into it and painted the walls of the various architectural accomplishments littered throughout the Elven capital.
The uphill climb through the streets of the Elven capital's central keep had been fraught with conflict, corpses of men and elves littered the beautiful streets. This was the cost of the rebellion's dream, the lives of many, many innocent men and women foot soldiers employed in the idealization of revolution. It was not all for naught, however, as now the chaos had begun to wane while the sun set behind the castle. The waters of the lake were being used to wash the marble clean once more, and men garrisoned the keep as opposed to the elves who had once done so. Funeral pyres were being lit around the city, the smoke curling into the night sky and the red fires clawing at the sky; casting silhouette's against the elaborate marble walls of the prosperous castle.
All elven foot soldiers who had surrendered were spared, pardoned, and offered service once again in light of a new, just rule. The capital city of Anysa had been conquered, though the new ruler delegated to keep the name and most of the city's traditions, although certainly they were under new rule.
The royals that had been found in the keep were, surprisingly, left mostly unharmed by the initial foot soldiers to breach the central keep and drag them to the throne room for judgment. Instead, like herd animals, they were corralled and locked into the central keep, the revolutionaries standing side-by-side around the outside of the throne room as they awaited the rebellion's leader to pass judgment on the previous rulers. Most of the soldiers were men and women, though orcs were sprinkled throughout, eager for their own taste at liberty and freedom from under the crushing boot of elven rule. They seemingly had no established uniform, some of them even wore armor stripped from previous elven soldiers that had been defeated in battle; only painted the black and gold colors that had been established by their leader.
Finally, the heavy, decorated doors of the central keep opened to reveal a youthful soldier, clad in full plate. His armor was expressive, the breastplate brandishing some of the only colour that had graced their armor in total. A golden sun rose in the background of the circular depiction on the center of his breastplate, purples and reds intermingling at the top of the circle, as the sun seemed to illuminate down on a sea of tree-tops brandishing their own autumn colors of orange, yellow, and red. His black shoulder-guards were jagged at the edges, rising up like towers on each of his broad shoulders. He stood at least 6'4, his herculean form towering over most of his own soldiers, carrying at his right side a warhammer that appeared to drip blood. His metal boots were silenced by the extravagant purple carpet he walked on to approach the royals gathered at the foot of their throne, letting the warhammer swing idly by his side as his deep blue eyes contemplated them and their situation. His helm was tucked away neatly against his side by his other arm, his eyes glancing around the keep that they had just successfully stormed, and taken.
Following behind him were more men, looking mostly battered and bloodied, though definitely energized from their recent victory. Soon the throne-room filled with revolutionary soldiers, and the elven royals were seemingly the only elves in the long great room containing over a hundred people.
As he reached them, it was easier to examine the exact features that made up his face. A thick neck, just barely visible through the neck-guard he wore on his plate armor. His jaw was well-defined and strong, the complexion of his skin was difficult to tell through the dirt and grime that painted his face. He had deep blue eyes, a seemingly crooked though small nose, and ruffled black hair that fell to the middle of his neck with some bangs streaking across his face. He brushed them out of the way, coming to a sudden stop in front of all of the royalty that had once ruled him as he stared down at them.
Once, he had been powerless to their whims, though it seemed that time had come and gone. One swing of his warhammer was now a kingly decree, a death-sentence ordained by Gods and men alike, all because he had convinced all these men standing around him to follow him. His eyes flickered from royal to royal, raising his warhammer to slowly point at the red-haired Queen, the crown still affectionately sitting atop her head. "You'll be happy to know I do not intend to execute any of you." He let the warhammer fall back down to his side, curling his gauntleted fingers around the hilt. His voice was tired, deep and raspy from the day of shouting and commanding soldiers in the exhausting taking of their castle. "Instead, you will be my esteemed guests while I establish new laws. Political prisoners, if you will, so that your people will see how merciful we can be." He gestured his warhammer around to the room full of murderous soldiers, men whom had committed atrocities throughout the city on their way to the keep, only held-back by the might of their leader. "I'm sure you've all heard of me, from this ivory little palace, dismissed my cause and our army as unimportant and weak until it was far too late. But a formal introduction wouldn't hurt, I am Aleksandr Volkov." He smiled sadly, glancing down at the warhammer that still dripped blood, before returning his gaze to them. "Well, I'll monologue over my victory no more. I intend to section off the part of this keep previously used for maids and house you all there, until I can properly clean out the dungeons and move you. You, on the other hand," He raised his warhammer, pointing its head once more at the Queen herself, "will be kept in the keep and punished for your crimes. The others may join you, although their existence in the dungeons will soon be preferable to yours, you will learn."
Finally striding through the various royals gathered in the center of the throne room, he approached where she stood, letting his helmet drop to the floor as he neared her. His free-hand reached out to grab ahold of her by her hair, yanking her down to the floor forcefully, bringing his warhammer up into the air to feign a blow, "If any of you misbehave before you are properly adjusted to the dungeons, your fate will be similar to the man elves who stood in my path to this keep." He brought the warhammer down, pressing the cold steel against the back of her head though pulling the force to simply tap her against the back of her head. He then strode past them, dragging her by her hair towards the throne, before thrusting her to the floor at the foot of the throne and claiming it himself, sitting down slowly at it. "You will stay right there. That extravagant outfit is no longer befitting your new station, so strip it off." He then rose his gaze to the rest of the royals in the keep, and his various men, leaning his warhammer against the throne itself.
Raising his voice, he delivered his orders, "Escort the royals to their new rooms, and go bring order to the streets with the rest of the men. Captains, procure me a house-hold guard to garrison the keep. Also, tear down and burn anything that might resemble or remind us of the previous rule." He relaxed into the chair, watching as his men went about their orders, dragging away the royals in the throne room and leaving him with the previous queen in the grand room.
The uphill climb through the streets of the Elven capital's central keep had been fraught with conflict, corpses of men and elves littered the beautiful streets. This was the cost of the rebellion's dream, the lives of many, many innocent men and women foot soldiers employed in the idealization of revolution. It was not all for naught, however, as now the chaos had begun to wane while the sun set behind the castle. The waters of the lake were being used to wash the marble clean once more, and men garrisoned the keep as opposed to the elves who had once done so. Funeral pyres were being lit around the city, the smoke curling into the night sky and the red fires clawing at the sky; casting silhouette's against the elaborate marble walls of the prosperous castle.
All elven foot soldiers who had surrendered were spared, pardoned, and offered service once again in light of a new, just rule. The capital city of Anysa had been conquered, though the new ruler delegated to keep the name and most of the city's traditions, although certainly they were under new rule.
The royals that had been found in the keep were, surprisingly, left mostly unharmed by the initial foot soldiers to breach the central keep and drag them to the throne room for judgment. Instead, like herd animals, they were corralled and locked into the central keep, the revolutionaries standing side-by-side around the outside of the throne room as they awaited the rebellion's leader to pass judgment on the previous rulers. Most of the soldiers were men and women, though orcs were sprinkled throughout, eager for their own taste at liberty and freedom from under the crushing boot of elven rule. They seemingly had no established uniform, some of them even wore armor stripped from previous elven soldiers that had been defeated in battle; only painted the black and gold colors that had been established by their leader.
Finally, the heavy, decorated doors of the central keep opened to reveal a youthful soldier, clad in full plate. His armor was expressive, the breastplate brandishing some of the only colour that had graced their armor in total. A golden sun rose in the background of the circular depiction on the center of his breastplate, purples and reds intermingling at the top of the circle, as the sun seemed to illuminate down on a sea of tree-tops brandishing their own autumn colors of orange, yellow, and red. His black shoulder-guards were jagged at the edges, rising up like towers on each of his broad shoulders. He stood at least 6'4, his herculean form towering over most of his own soldiers, carrying at his right side a warhammer that appeared to drip blood. His metal boots were silenced by the extravagant purple carpet he walked on to approach the royals gathered at the foot of their throne, letting the warhammer swing idly by his side as his deep blue eyes contemplated them and their situation. His helm was tucked away neatly against his side by his other arm, his eyes glancing around the keep that they had just successfully stormed, and taken.
Following behind him were more men, looking mostly battered and bloodied, though definitely energized from their recent victory. Soon the throne-room filled with revolutionary soldiers, and the elven royals were seemingly the only elves in the long great room containing over a hundred people.
As he reached them, it was easier to examine the exact features that made up his face. A thick neck, just barely visible through the neck-guard he wore on his plate armor. His jaw was well-defined and strong, the complexion of his skin was difficult to tell through the dirt and grime that painted his face. He had deep blue eyes, a seemingly crooked though small nose, and ruffled black hair that fell to the middle of his neck with some bangs streaking across his face. He brushed them out of the way, coming to a sudden stop in front of all of the royalty that had once ruled him as he stared down at them.
Once, he had been powerless to their whims, though it seemed that time had come and gone. One swing of his warhammer was now a kingly decree, a death-sentence ordained by Gods and men alike, all because he had convinced all these men standing around him to follow him. His eyes flickered from royal to royal, raising his warhammer to slowly point at the red-haired Queen, the crown still affectionately sitting atop her head. "You'll be happy to know I do not intend to execute any of you." He let the warhammer fall back down to his side, curling his gauntleted fingers around the hilt. His voice was tired, deep and raspy from the day of shouting and commanding soldiers in the exhausting taking of their castle. "Instead, you will be my esteemed guests while I establish new laws. Political prisoners, if you will, so that your people will see how merciful we can be." He gestured his warhammer around to the room full of murderous soldiers, men whom had committed atrocities throughout the city on their way to the keep, only held-back by the might of their leader. "I'm sure you've all heard of me, from this ivory little palace, dismissed my cause and our army as unimportant and weak until it was far too late. But a formal introduction wouldn't hurt, I am Aleksandr Volkov." He smiled sadly, glancing down at the warhammer that still dripped blood, before returning his gaze to them. "Well, I'll monologue over my victory no more. I intend to section off the part of this keep previously used for maids and house you all there, until I can properly clean out the dungeons and move you. You, on the other hand," He raised his warhammer, pointing its head once more at the Queen herself, "will be kept in the keep and punished for your crimes. The others may join you, although their existence in the dungeons will soon be preferable to yours, you will learn."
Finally striding through the various royals gathered in the center of the throne room, he approached where she stood, letting his helmet drop to the floor as he neared her. His free-hand reached out to grab ahold of her by her hair, yanking her down to the floor forcefully, bringing his warhammer up into the air to feign a blow, "If any of you misbehave before you are properly adjusted to the dungeons, your fate will be similar to the man elves who stood in my path to this keep." He brought the warhammer down, pressing the cold steel against the back of her head though pulling the force to simply tap her against the back of her head. He then strode past them, dragging her by her hair towards the throne, before thrusting her to the floor at the foot of the throne and claiming it himself, sitting down slowly at it. "You will stay right there. That extravagant outfit is no longer befitting your new station, so strip it off." He then rose his gaze to the rest of the royals in the keep, and his various men, leaning his warhammer against the throne itself.
Raising his voice, he delivered his orders, "Escort the royals to their new rooms, and go bring order to the streets with the rest of the men. Captains, procure me a house-hold guard to garrison the keep. Also, tear down and burn anything that might resemble or remind us of the previous rule." He relaxed into the chair, watching as his men went about their orders, dragging away the royals in the throne room and leaving him with the previous queen in the grand room.
The presently-gentle touch of Elias's fingers curled around her delicate elbow would provide a stark contrast to their treatment of her as depravity flowed and lust flourished later in the night. However, as the Herculean figure guided her through the dimly-lit hallways of what had once been a modest apartment building and was now transformed into a flourishing brothel with the sounds of pleasure echoing the debauchery occurring behind closed doors, his attention remained away from her. At some point, the delicate touch on her elbow had shifted to a hand placed against her lower-back as he led the fresh meat through the halls. Their enterprise wasn't all that big yet, but they were slowly expanding it. One pretty little slut at a time.
Stopping at one of the many murky gray doors with a lever door-handle, his fingers slipped from where they had been acquainted with her back to jingle a set of keys. Slipping the key into the lock and twisting the door unlocked, he blocked her entrance for a split-second to whisper into her ear, "Once you step into that room, there's no going back. I know I said that earlier, but this time I mean it. You're ours for the night." His husky voice breathed out against her shoulder, his leant-over form hiding her from sight of anyone in the room. Bending back upright as she slipped past him into the room, a faint smile fought its way onto his lips. The large hand encompassed the handle of the door, before spinning around as he stepped into the room's threshold along with her and pulled the door shut behind him.
Sitting on the edge of the bed was a younger man with striking resemblance to her guide, only he was slightly less large with a softer jaw and kind hazel eyes. The black hair on his head was roughed up, as though this wouldn't be his first round of the night. Reclining back in the bed somewhat, his elbow tucked underneath his body as his eyes danced playfully over the girl standing in the room resembling a sex hotel with a singular bed and a table hosting various toys.
After a few moments of the thick silence hanging in the room, the large hands of Elias closed their grips over her shoulders, turning her torso slightly to peer down at her. His hand slipped up her shoulder to curl fingers around her neck as he tilted her face towards his own, leaning over her some, "You know how to give head, right? Who doesn't. Get started." Slipping his thumb across her lips, he let his hand fall after a second and jerked his head towards his younger brother sat on the bed - who shifted his body forwards to sit at the edge of the bed and eagerly await her, the heavy cock hidden by his pants had already began to grow at the idea despite his earlier rounds, a faint outline straining against the front of his blue jeans.
Stopping at one of the many murky gray doors with a lever door-handle, his fingers slipped from where they had been acquainted with her back to jingle a set of keys. Slipping the key into the lock and twisting the door unlocked, he blocked her entrance for a split-second to whisper into her ear, "Once you step into that room, there's no going back. I know I said that earlier, but this time I mean it. You're ours for the night." His husky voice breathed out against her shoulder, his leant-over form hiding her from sight of anyone in the room. Bending back upright as she slipped past him into the room, a faint smile fought its way onto his lips. The large hand encompassed the handle of the door, before spinning around as he stepped into the room's threshold along with her and pulled the door shut behind him.
Sitting on the edge of the bed was a younger man with striking resemblance to her guide, only he was slightly less large with a softer jaw and kind hazel eyes. The black hair on his head was roughed up, as though this wouldn't be his first round of the night. Reclining back in the bed somewhat, his elbow tucked underneath his body as his eyes danced playfully over the girl standing in the room resembling a sex hotel with a singular bed and a table hosting various toys.
After a few moments of the thick silence hanging in the room, the large hands of Elias closed their grips over her shoulders, turning her torso slightly to peer down at her. His hand slipped up her shoulder to curl fingers around her neck as he tilted her face towards his own, leaning over her some, "You know how to give head, right? Who doesn't. Get started." Slipping his thumb across her lips, he let his hand fall after a second and jerked his head towards his younger brother sat on the bed - who shifted his body forwards to sit at the edge of the bed and eagerly await her, the heavy cock hidden by his pants had already began to grow at the idea despite his earlier rounds, a faint outline straining against the front of his blue jeans.
Reclined against a wall in one of the busier rooms, Elijah's light-blue eyes roved over the dozens of people dancing and partying in the now dirty and chaotic house that stunk of alcohol. Deep-set in his eyes was a certain anger as they trained on a couple that he had noticed earlier in the party, that fucking asshole brought his slutty little girlfriend here to parade around like he was untouchable. Just a week ago him and his buddies had jumped Elijah's younger brother, and his anger had only festered from there. The coward refused to go anywhere without the football team surrounding him, he was untouchable, as far as Elijah was concerned. Who wasn't, though, was his girlfriend. His hands stuffed into the pockets of his blue jeans as he simply watched, invisible and faded into the students moving about the overcrowded home, Elijah's attention seemed to have deviated earlier in the night from him to her. Now she was all he was focused on, and her movements were what was important.
As the alcohol continued to flow, her attachment to his arm started to deviate more and more as she went to get drink after drink. Elijah maintained the facade of enjoying the party, though his mind had been set for some time on what he was planning to do to get back at him for fucking up his brother. He still had plans to fuck him up back, but that would have to wait - tonight, they could do something for themselves as payback.
Finally, as she broke off from her boyfriend to go to the bathroom, Elijah broke off from the mundane conversation he had been entertaining while waiting for an opportunity. Drowned in the sea of people, Elijah blended in as she disappeared around a corner into a hallway to the quieter section of the house with the bathrooms and various rooms people had already probably been fucking in. He rounded the corner shortly after her, and overtook where she was walking. "You're looking for the bathroom, right? I know where the one no one's puked in yet is." His fingers curled around the small of her elbow, his much larger stature towering over the smaller girl as he forcefully took her arm, and began leading her further down the hallway. He had given her a faked smile, though his eyes only lingered on her face for a second before he continued to pull her down the hallway. Another left before Elijah ducked into a bedroom with her arm still in his grip.
Shoving her forwards as he stepped through the doorway, he pulled it shut with a thud behind him and stared her down, unashamed of the way his eyes roamed her body in the skimpy outfit - before spitting out the accusation, "You're dating Frank, right? You're his little girlfriend. Do you know who I am?" Remaining in the door's path, Elijah stared her down in the bedroom as he waited for his brother to show up.
As the alcohol continued to flow, her attachment to his arm started to deviate more and more as she went to get drink after drink. Elijah maintained the facade of enjoying the party, though his mind had been set for some time on what he was planning to do to get back at him for fucking up his brother. He still had plans to fuck him up back, but that would have to wait - tonight, they could do something for themselves as payback.
Finally, as she broke off from her boyfriend to go to the bathroom, Elijah broke off from the mundane conversation he had been entertaining while waiting for an opportunity. Drowned in the sea of people, Elijah blended in as she disappeared around a corner into a hallway to the quieter section of the house with the bathrooms and various rooms people had already probably been fucking in. He rounded the corner shortly after her, and overtook where she was walking. "You're looking for the bathroom, right? I know where the one no one's puked in yet is." His fingers curled around the small of her elbow, his much larger stature towering over the smaller girl as he forcefully took her arm, and began leading her further down the hallway. He had given her a faked smile, though his eyes only lingered on her face for a second before he continued to pull her down the hallway. Another left before Elijah ducked into a bedroom with her arm still in his grip.
Shoving her forwards as he stepped through the doorway, he pulled it shut with a thud behind him and stared her down, unashamed of the way his eyes roamed her body in the skimpy outfit - before spitting out the accusation, "You're dating Frank, right? You're his little girlfriend. Do you know who I am?" Remaining in the door's path, Elijah stared her down in the bedroom as he waited for his brother to show up.
Stepping into the threshold of the party, letting the warm air from inside the house hit him and finally getting off the cold street, Damien had crashed a completely random block-party on Halloween. Having ditched his friends somewhere along the way, and managing to talk his way into this party, he was sick of driving around drunk people and wanted to finally get to join them. He snatched up the first red solo-cup he saw, pressing the rim of it to his lips and chugging down the cup of beer effortlessly. He discarded the cup, pushing his way deeper into the house and the party itself. His own outfit wasn't particularly clever, he had pulled on a makeshift demon costume with tacky, cheap plastic horns attached to the top of his head by a head-band with a plain black t-shirt that had been DIY'd to look burnt and ripped in places; essentially, so he could flaunt his muscled torso. It had one sleeve as well, his shoulders striations twitching with every simple movement of his arm, a vein running through his defined, muscled bicep. He wore matching black pants, the bottoms of them also burnt so to convey the same idea that he had just escaped hell, or something. Damien himself wasn't so sure what he was going for, probably just looking to hook-up with some random girl at the party.
Eventually, he finds himself a few drinks in and pulled into a group of spin the bottle, his hazy vision struggling to make-out the girl he just matched with.. oh shit, she's here? What the fuck was she doing here? His fucking sister? As he's struggling to comprehend the information, they're both being shoved towards a nearby closet by one of the other's they were playing with, the girl making a snarky remark about "not having too much fun alone!". As Damien is recollecting his thoughts, he's shoved up against his younger sister in a closet, his eyes tilted downwards as he's painfully staring at her cleavage jammed against his lower-abdomen. His heavy, hot breathing starting to get heavier in the close-quarters as his body is disobeying him, blurting out in a veiled angry whisper at her as he's trying to stay somewhat calm, "What the fuck are you doing here? And dressed like that! God, I think I've had way too much to drink.." He breathed out a heavy sigh, feeling his body still towering over hers and the warmth being held between the both of them as they're forced against one another in the close-quarters obviously starting to play some tricks on his mind as the lower-head starts to swell with some blood.
Eventually, he finds himself a few drinks in and pulled into a group of spin the bottle, his hazy vision struggling to make-out the girl he just matched with.. oh shit, she's here? What the fuck was she doing here? His fucking sister? As he's struggling to comprehend the information, they're both being shoved towards a nearby closet by one of the other's they were playing with, the girl making a snarky remark about "not having too much fun alone!". As Damien is recollecting his thoughts, he's shoved up against his younger sister in a closet, his eyes tilted downwards as he's painfully staring at her cleavage jammed against his lower-abdomen. His heavy, hot breathing starting to get heavier in the close-quarters as his body is disobeying him, blurting out in a veiled angry whisper at her as he's trying to stay somewhat calm, "What the fuck are you doing here? And dressed like that! God, I think I've had way too much to drink.." He breathed out a heavy sigh, feeling his body still towering over hers and the warmth being held between the both of them as they're forced against one another in the close-quarters obviously starting to play some tricks on his mind as the lower-head starts to swell with some blood.
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