#race for the wool

[apparitionalprincess]

My problem with Skeletá haters isn’t that they’re wrong but that respectfully and in the least elitist way possible, you guys just got here. I’m sorry but as a townie, a local if you will, Skeletá is in a style that feels a bit more grown up or “mature” and unless you’ve BEEN around, you didn’t “grow up” with us.

This happened with BMTH and Sempiternal. People who didn’t grow up and evolve with the band HATED it because it “didn’t sound like their other stuff”. At one point, the band must pivot or else the bit gets old and Skeletá did that WELL. You guys haven’t evolved and grown with Tobias and that’s the problem. You just weren’t there and I’m sorry to break it to you.

[drunk-on-starlight]

[specss-missing-shoe]

Hiii! so sorry for not posting for a while, I didn't have access to my account but now I'M BACK!! :D

Also what newsie should I needle-felt next? I already have Crutchie and Race, and I'm almost done working on Albert

I NEED MORE NEWSIES‼️

[virtual-boy]

{🐾}{🐾}{🐾} {🌠}{🌠}{🌠} {✨}{✨}{✨}

"Would you like to come up for a nightcap?"

dawn's rupaul's drag race season 16 "true colors" look stimboard with sleepy dark blue stims!

[kristinagoose]

Art for the lottery for ~YeenSpace [FA] A good picture came out, it hasn't been like this for a long time, the character is still very pleasant, I hope you like it too ^^

[gagmedrag]

Paloma, 2022

[rohirric-hunter]

Maybe I will just put Léonys back in her Black Book outfit for the trip into near Harad. Possibly with a different cloak.

Ambarul isn't so bad, but most of the new areas have a lot of sand and wind, and looking at the occasional sandstorms especially around Urash Dar, I've got to thinking. You'd definitely want long sleeves and a hood there, to keep out the sand and sun. I had imagined the hauberk to be linen and wool with a thin leather layer overtop. These are all reasonable choices for desert travel -- although the clothing would have been made in Gondor and not intended for that sort of environment, I think it would work for it with little adjustment. The leather layer could probably be removed and put in a pack to leave a fairly lightweight outfit with good coverage in light colors. Léonys would also be more comfortable in it and given the option would probably choose to wear it again over new clothes.

[hi-iamaj]

I feel like jardon should bring back the minecraft classic series

[residentcelery]

Joe and Cleo are two of the minecraft YouTubers I have known about the LONGEST. I remember coming across them over 13 years ago back when CTM maps were new and everywhere. And they're still going strong and just as wonderfully chaotic as ever. It's easy to forget they have been friends for so long.

hey guys are we gonna talk about joe and cleo? bc i think we need to talk about joe and cleo.

this guy risks life, limb, and hermit citizenship to help cleo ride a horse across the nether roof from the world border to the original spawn.

and it's not like they can just do it easily. scar and cub are on their ass every time they log on. yet he still risks everything, fights an ender dragon with nothing but borrowed armor, cheats death over and over and over all for cleo.

fic writers, get on it

[ellipsus-writes]

The words they're afraid of.

(Read on our blog.)

The recently appointed Department of Defense head Pete Hegseth (formerly Fox News pundit, perpetually soused creepy uncle, and current group chat leaker of classified intel) banned images of the Enola Gay from the Pentagon’s website for the offense of “DEI” language. In keeping with the far right’s stated war on anything vaguely resembling diversity, equity and inclusion, even historical photos are up for cancellation. When a literal weapon of mass destruction is censored for being a bit fruity under the Trump administration’s war against inconvenient truths, what exactly is left untouched?

This is clown show stuff, but the stakes are far from funny. While some might be hesitant to compare the current administration to the very worst history has to offer, we can at least all agree that they are dyed-in-the-wool grammar Nazis. Policing language has been the objective of the MAGA culture war long before Project 2025’s debut—the wave of book bans orchestrated by astroturf movements like Moms for Liberty, and Florida’s 2022 Don’t Say Gay bill have already had a profound effect in the arena of free speech and freedom of expression (despite the far right’s long tradition of doublespeak performative free-speech martyrdom to the contrary). Don’t Say Gay ostensibly targeted K-3 education, but LGBT+ content at all levels of education (and beyond) was either quietly censored or entirely preempted in practice. The results were not just a war on so-called ideology, or words alone—but on reality and essential freedoms.

Now, words as innocuous and important as racism, climate change, hate speech, prejudice, mental health, and inequality are targeted as subversive. Entire concepts are being vanished from government institutions, scrubbed not only from descriptions but from metadata, search indexes, and archival frameworks.

If you don’t name a thing, does it exist?

These words are as numerous as they are generic: women, race, Black, immigrants, multicultural, gender, injustice. But what is painfully unserious is also particularly dangerous in its real-world consequences. The process of controlling words is a well-worn authoritarian tendency. Fifty-two universities are now under investigation as part of the President's effort to curb “woke” research and thought crimes. Institutions are being coerced to comply with a nebulous set of ideological demands, or face budgetary annihilation. That means cutting funding for entire departments, slashing financial aid, defunding scientific grants, and pressuring faculty to self-censor.

The possibilities for censorship extend far and wide—interfering, by extension, in everything from reproductive healthcare programs, to libraries and museums. The Trump administration’s proposed budget slashing all federal funding for libraries, including the Institute of Museum and Library Services, will effectively gut an infrastructure that supports over 100,000 libraries and museums across the country—community centers, educational lifelines, internet access points, and archives of marginalized histories (starting with the Smithsonian Institution).

When you erase access, you erase participation. And when you erase participation, you erase people, and the means by which future generations might even learn they existed. A culture that cannot remember is a culture that cannot resist.

The erasure is, yet again, unsurprisingly targeted at minorities and LGBT+ people. The National Parks Service quietly revised the Stonewall Monument’s website to remove references to transgender people—a fundamental part of the original protests. Not an oversight, not a mistake, but a deliberate excision—one point in a wider plan of erasure depicted in stark detail in Project 2025, a blueprint to dismantle civil rights, defund LGBT+-related healthcare, and rewrite history from the ground up.

Dehumanization by deletion—welcome to the reactionary resurgence of doubleplusungood governance. In Trumpland, words are weapons—but not in the way they intend. Their fear of language betrays its power; that’s why they’re trying so hard to police it.

Words hurt them.

Hurt them back.

- the Ellipsus Team

[bigmanpiwi]

They got no clue where tf they're going

I've been rotating them in my mind like a couple of pebbles in a rock tumbler. I have. So many thoughts about stan and edas relationship specifically.

It's not a typical romantic relationship. I mean, they were only married for 7 hours, so. They're like-minded, kindred spirits... who constantly tried to pull the wool over the others' eyes. Almost every time they have crossed paths (they part ways to lead their own lives and do their own thangs but they always end up stumbling across eachother again through one hairbrained scheme or another) it's like a race to see who could rob the other blind first. And suuuure, maybe they've conned each other a few times, but they never stay mad. They understand the hustle. You can't blame a scorpion for stinging. They're just a couple of wandering nomads who find solace in each other AAAAA IDK WORDS‼️‼️‼️

[himbodruid]

Crying Wolf

My take on the 105 affinity Secret Times audio 😏

Intended for 18+ readers ONLY. MINORS DNI

Sylus x Reader/You

Breeding kink (probably)-:- marking -:- possessive sex -:- soft sex -:- consent is hot -:- aftercare

Fic Master List

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°⭑ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩⭑

The soft plinking sounds of the silly game you were playing echoed in the otherwise vacant room. You’d awoken from disturbing dreams in your own bed at the base, and snuck into Sylus’s room. And now you were curled up on his bed and clutching one of his pillows to your chest. He wasn’t home yet and it was a day off for you, but you figured he wouldn’t mind you borrowing his space.

“What are you playing?”

His voice suddenly appearing right next to your ear startled you and made you jump. Your hand struck out on instinct, which he caught with a chuckle before it could connect with his face.

“Shit, Sylus, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Are you trying to scare me?” You settled back down, trying to calm your adrenaline.

“Am I trying to scare you? You’re overthinking it, love.” He chuckled again at your pout.

“Still rude to sneak up on people like that.”

“Meanwhile, Miss Hunter didn’t even notice me when I was this close.” He leaned in, sending your pulse racing again for a different reason. “Your lack of vigilance is worryin-“

With a scowl, you slapped your hand over his mouth to prevent him from finishing that sentence. He was right, but you wouldn’t willingly admit it. Could he hardly blame you for feeling safe in his space?

You felt him smile under your hand for a brief moment, before he pulled it away from his mouth and flashed you that devilish half smirk of his. “You’re that eager to shut me up? Oh, you’re gonna need more than just your hands, Kitten.”

The tension that had built in those few seconds was interrupted by the sound of your game ending. Your phone was still in your other hand, but it had been all but forgotten when you got lost in Sylus’s predatory gaze.

“Oops, guess you lost,” he rumbled without breaking eye contact with you. Amusement twinkled in his eye. “Sorry for interrupting your game.”

You cleared your throat and looked away from him. You hated how easily he could get under your skin, with just a simple look from those cat-like crimson eyes of his. You made to return to your game and start again.

“But I remember an hour ago, someone promised to go to bed early starting today.”

“Oh, so you did see my text,” you muttered under your breath. He pretended not to hear you though.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” The smile in his voice made you want to reach out and punch him. Instead, you reined in the impulse and restarted the game.

“I haven’t forgotten. This is a sleep aid game,” you said with a huff, pointedly ignoring his presence now.

“You…play a game to help you fall asleep. This is the first time I’ve heard of it.” He made a noise of suspicion and leaned in again. “Looks like someone’s trying to pull the wool over my eyes.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and scooted over on his bed. He rose from the chair he’d been occupying and sat next to you at your beckoning, and raised a brow when you handed him your phone with a freshly started game.

“Why are you giving it to me? I’m not into these little games.” He said gruffly.

“Just try it,” you say. “I’m trying to prove my innocence here.”

With a chuckle, he accepted your phone. “Alright, we can do that. Scoot over.”

You shifted over some more, placing the pillow you’d been cuddling back against the headboard. He stretched out languidly beside you, resting against the pillow you’d just placed, and held out an arm to you.

“Come here, rest your head on my arm,” he commanded softly. You smiled and laid beside him, where his arm wrapped around your shoulder, and immediately his hand began tracing soft patterns against your arm.

“Now then. Shall we get started?” You explained basic concepts of the game to him and showed him what to do, trying not to zero in your focus on his deft fingers lazily brushing your skin. After three sheep appeared on screen, Sylus paused.

“So the whole point of this game is to count sheep?”

“I mean, I tried to tell you it was a sleep aid game, but you didn’t believe me,” you laughed. He smirked back.

“Well, it is boring enough to make anyone fall asleep.”

With a playful punch to his chest, you took up your phone again and continued playing. You were trying hard not to focus on all the points where your bodies touched, trying to cool the heat that was slowly settling into you as he continued to trail his hand on you. You were trying not to lose yourself in the smoky spice scent of him. You were pretty sure he could feel your racing heartbeat, maybe even hear it, so you threw your focus into the game and tried hard to ignore how much you wanted to straddle him at that moment.

“Hmm…how many have we counted?” His voice was rough, like he was distracted. It took all of your effort not to squirm against him.

“You’d know if you’d stay focused,” you replied, thankful that your voice was steady. You were entirely too conscious of the fact that his shirt was stretched taut across his chest, and the sleep pants were slung low enough on his hips you could almost see his v-line.

“It’s not that I’m unfocused. Your hair is tickling my neck,” he rumbled. You scowled at him again.

“Seriously?” Was all you could think to say. He chuckled.

“Yes, it tickles. Only a little, though. Do you need me to help you tame this unruly hair of yours?”

Before you could give him an answer, his hand reached up and brushed strands of hair away from your face. His palm lingered on your cheek for the briefest of moments before moving down your neck. The action in no way removed your hair from his vicinity, but his focus was solely on you in that moment. Your breath hitched as his palm traveled further and then flattened against your collar bone. His eyes followed the contour of your neck before resting on the dainty necklace that rested in the hollow of your throat. You could see hunger ignite in his eyes when he saw it.

“Hmmh. Isn’t this the collarbone necklace I gave you?” He murmured while fingering the pendant. “My taste is pretty good, I guess.”

“Yes,” you say almost dumbly. “I love it.”

“It is very pretty,” he murmured, leaning over you. You couldn’t tell if he meant the necklace or your neck as he buried his face there. You thought you could feel his lips ghosting over your skin and the soft gasp that escaped you was nearly involuntary.

“S-Sylus, what are you doing?” You questioned, hating how breathless your voice was. He took a moment before replying, not bothering to pull himself away from you.

“Nothing. I just thought,” he said, punctuating with a soft kiss to your collarbone, “this spot was very enticing.”

His mouth descended onto your collarbone once more, a full open-mouth kiss that you couldn’t hold back your gasp at. Teeth scraped against your skin and then he latched onto you in such a way that you knew would leave a mark. It hurt at first, the aggressive pull of his mouth, but then there was a zing of rapture that flowed through you when he released you. His breath tickled across your now-damp skin and you shivered.

“It tastes just as I imagined it to be,” he murmured. “I wonder what this will taste like.”

Sylus moved to the opposite side of your collarbone now, his hand cradling your head while he gave the same treatment to that side. You tried your hardest to calm your thundering heart, to quell the heat that raced through you, to soothe the blush that spread mercilessly from your face to your now nearly exposed chest. You felt embarrassed at how quickly and easily he was able to turn you on. The sounds of the game came back to you and you desperately tried to return your attention to it. This didn’t escape Sylus’s notice.

“What? How many sheep are there now?” He nuzzled into your neck. “You’re still concerned about them? Looks like I haven’t gotten your undivided attention yet.”

“S-Sy,” you started, unable to find words when your breath came short.

“I don’t like you being so far away from me,” he growled before rolling his bulk atop you. You dropped your phone onto the mattress, the game forgotten now. “Come closer, let’s cuddle.”

You knew your face was aflame as he leaned down to nuzzle and kiss your neck. In a desperate bid to escape embarrassment, you mutter the lamest excuse you could. “B-but Sylus, it’s too warm.”

“To be honest,” a kiss on your neck, full of tongue, interrupted his thought, “it…can get even warmer. Than. This.”

His mouth found yours then, and he coaxed you open to him so that his tongue could plunge in and tangle with yours. You inhaled sharply, unable to keep your hands from him any longer. You kissed him back in equal fervor, not entirely ignorant to the hard length of him resting against your belly. Your hands combed through his silk-soft hair, all but holding him to you.

A sudden plink from your discarded phone brought you back to your senses. You were kissing Sylus. The two of you had been intimate in other ways, but nothing nearly as far as this yet. Holding hands, quick pecks on the cheek, chaste kisses here and there. But nothing so all-consuming, so passionate.

“Hmm? Oh. We lost,” rumbled Sylus against your lips. You turned your head and looked at your phone.

“Hmm. Looks like a wolf snuck in because you weren’t focused on our sheep,” you admonished lightly.

“Yeah. All of them were eaten,” Sylus replied with a smug smirk. He returned to burying his face against your neck. “How do you think those sheep were eaten? Like…this?”

He raked his teeth against the slope of your neck. You didn’t even have the mind to feel embarrassed about the moan that slipped from you.

“Or…like this?” His lips moved to the other side. A heavy, charged sigh escaped from him as he all but worshipped your neck. Kisses, bites, even rolling his tongue against your pulse. You were unravelling beneath him, and then his hand had the audacity to add to the sensations by running down the length of you. Your breaths came in short gasps and you longed to completely wrap yourself around him.

“I take back what I said about the game. It does have some redeeming qualities.”

The comment was so sudden, you couldn’t muster a response. All you could do was watch him with eyes half-lidded by desire while he elaborated.

“For instance, it is very realistic.” He gave another one of those heated sighs, followed by a soft growl while his hand continued to roam your body. You were fully aware now of his cock resting heavy against you, still held by the prison of his sleep pants. Somewhere he had wedged a knee between your own and was slowly sliding his way fully between your thighs. You could feel the heat blazing in your face and looked away from his assessing and possessive gaze.

It just happened that your attention fell back to your phone.

“Where are your eyes going? Honestly, I don’t think you need to get your phone back.”

You looked back to him, and he hiked your leg up to hook around his hip. The length of him was now pressed against your core, hot and hard.

“If you need a sleep aid, then I can fulfill that role.”

You felt like your brain was going to short circuit. Out of a desperate attempt to hide your madly blushing face, you covered it with the comforter.

“A sheep can’t escape if it’s trapped under the covers,” he said, tugging them away. “So, is this little lamb prepared?”

Another moan escaped you unbidden as he pressed his hips into yours.

“A wolf is coming,” he growled into your ear.

Fuck, I sure hope he will, you thought.

His mouth found yours again, and his roaming hand slipped underneath the cotton tank top you were wearing. Like electricity on your skin, his touch sent shivers through you. His thumb found your breast first, and then the rest of his hand engulfed the mound of flesh. You couldn’t help but arch into his touch, releasing pleased gasps into his fierce kiss.

Next thing you knew, your shirt was pushed up above your breasts and his hot mouth moved to teasing them. His tongue swirled around the nipple of one, while his hand continued kneading the other.

“S-Sylus,” you moaned with a shuddering breath. His teeth scraped against the underside and your hands dug into his scalp at the sensation. Your back bowed, arching firmly into his touch until his mouth moved further down. A blazing trail of kisses and bites all the way down your torso until he came to the hem of your shorts. All the while he kept his crimson gaze locked on your face, thoroughly enjoying the reactions he elicited from you.

He tugged at the hem, offering a silent question to you and going no further until you nodded your consent and lifted your hips for him. He stripped shorts and underwear away in one swift motion, and suddenly you were bared so intimately, so lewdly for him. You tried to pin your knees together, but he was already there, mouth at your hip and drawing out a mark to match the ones on your collarbone.

“I think,” he said, detaching from your skin, “I might enjoy seeing my marks on you a little too much.”

Your gaze landed on the bruise-like mark he left on your hip and you had to agree with him. Something about seeing his smirking mouth hovering there and a hickey darkening was just absurdly hot.

You let your head fall back into the pillow, covering your face with an arm. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Sylus.”

“Is that so?” He chuckled. “If you permit me, I can easily give you a little death, as a treat.”

Somehow your face flamed hotter at his innuendo. You didn’t have time to dwell on it, as you felt his thumb brushing through the soft fringe at your core.

“Mmh,” he growled. “So wet for me already, Kitten.”

And then his tongue followed the touch, and you were lost. A moan escaped from you, your hands flying to tangle once again in his hair. If he hated that you were messing up said hair, he didn’t say a word. In fact, the action seemed to provoke him further and he soon added fingers curling into your cunt. He worked you hard until you spilled over the edge with his name falling from your lips like a chant.

He crawled back up your body, planting a soft kiss before pulling away. He caressed your cheek while he gave you the tenderest of looks. It appeared he wanted to say something, but held himself back. Instead, he opted to lean forward and kiss your forehead.

And then the infuriating man tugged the comforter over you and made to leave.

“Wait, what?” You panicked and grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving.

“It’s late, Kitten, and you need to sleep.”

“No! I-“ your words were cut off by his chuckle.

“As much as I want to, Kitten, I hadn’t really prepared for sex. I don’t have any protection.”

You eased your shoulders, secretly relieved that he wasn’t rejecting you per se.

“That’s simple, though,” you say, swinging your arm wide and showing him the tiniest of protrusions on the inner side of your arm. “The Association pays for all of us to get temporarily sterilized. Those of us that want it, anyway. It lasts for five years, and I got it put in a few months ago because-“

You cut your words off, completely aware that you were rambling and embarrassing yourself further. You looked away, hating how desperate you sounded. But it was true, after being with Sylus and getting to know him, you wanted to prepare for a ‘just in case’ kinda situation just like this one. When he didn’t move or respond, you began shuffling yourself back under the duvet in awkward self-consciousness.

His hand shot out to stop you, though. “I truly don’t deserve you.”

With that, you were stripped bare before him once again. The duvet was discarded, and his crimson gaze followed every curve and edge of your body. It was like he was trying to memorize the picture of you naked in his bed.

“So damn beautiful,” he growled before falling upon you once again. His kisses were needy and hungry, working to quickly reignite your every sense. Your hands worked to slide his own shirt from his body, discarding it alongside your own clothing. The valleys of his abs called to you and you were unable to resist touching. Your fingers traveled the dips and rise of his torso, earning you panting groans from him. Testing, you allowed one hand to go even further downward. When he didn’t stop you at the hem of his pants, boldness overtook you and you grasped at the prominent bulge over the fabric.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his hips jerking forward of their own volition. He let his head fall against your chest with rough kisses while you pressed and kneaded the length of him in wonder. He was very clearly a large man as he all but dwarfed your petite frame underneath him, but down there he was also exceptionally large.

“How in the world is this supposed to fit,” you wondered aloud while still stroking him. He chuckled darkly in your ear, rolling his hips into your touch.

“Why don’t we find out, Kitten.”

His mouth engulfed yours again while he worked to strip the pants from his body. His tongue swept into your mouth, undulating in a way that suggested he was about to do that to you with his cock. Finally his hips nestled between your thighs, and you could feel how big he was resting against your body. You opened as wide as you could for him while his hips continued rolling forward and back. While not penetrating, his cock still dragged deliciously against your folds, urging your heart to pick up pace in anticipation.

And then, gods, the moment he pierced you, you wanted to cum. His movement was infuriatingly slow as he allowed you time to become accustomed to his girth first, and then his length last. You let your head fall back into his pillows, his name tumbling from you as you clung to him desperately.

And then he stilled, though you could tell by his shaking that it took all of his effort to hold back.

“Fuck, you feel so good on me, Kitten,” he whined. You wrapped your legs firmly around his waist, ensuring that he couldn’t suddenly change his mind and pull away from you in that moment.

A slight tilt of your hips and a clenching of your walls, and he nearly collapsed atop you at the forceful pleasure that rocketed up his spine. His moan was deep, guttural, and damn near feral. It only goaded you into shifting your hips again to rattle him further. His hips jerked forward involuntarily, and fuck the feel of him slamming so impossibly deep into you was almost enough to throw you over the edge.

“Sylus, please,” you whimpered to him. His gaze found yours and locked on as he so slowly pulled himself out, right to the tip. And then his hips rocketed forward and the force of him slamming into you all but ripped his name from you as a scream.

From there, the frenzied coupling reached a crescendo so quickly that neither of you were prepared for the full force of pleasure that toppled you over the edge. His cock was buried in you and responded in kind when your walls fluttered and milked him. You took every last bit he had to offer, and still he wasn’t done with you.

He shifted your legs so that the backs of your knees rested in his elbows, and he all but folded you in half while he pistoned into you. All you could do was cling to him, crying out in the pleasure he ripped so vehemently from you. The new position let him fuck into you even deeper somehow, and gods the way his cock dragged against your inner walls.

And the sounds he made only added fuel to the fire. Grunting moans, harsh whispers of praise, guttural growls. All of them possessed you, making you respond to him in kind between other cries of pleasure. His name became like a prayer with the frequency it tumbled from your lips, and gods when he growled out your name you were gone.

Climax swept through both of you again swiftly, more hot ropes of cum flooding you only to be used as lubricant while he continued to pound into you.

Three times he brought you over the edge and he jumped alongside you. Three times before he finally released your cramping legs and let them rest back around his hips. More marks dotted your body, and you added your own collection to his neck and chest.

Three times your body milked his, and yet he was still so impossibly hard inside you. You would be surprised if you weren’t leaking his cum for days after this.

“Fuck, Kitten, you feel so damn good. I don’t know if I will ever be able to stop fucking you,” he growled.

The pace of his thrusts slowed in reverent worship of your body. You could feel him more fully than the rapid driving of the last three rounds. You could feel how the scooped edge of the head caught and dragged along your walls, tugging and pushing electric shocks of pleasure that coursed through you. And gods the hard push of his hips when he buried fully to the hilt, the feel of his sac compressing against the slick of your combined cum. The sticky feel of it all when he pulls away with the obscene sounds echoing in the room with your twinned heavy breathing. The slow ascent of your pleasure was near infuriating, but you knew that the fall would be much sweeter, more intense.

“This is how I originally wanted to take you,” he murmured into your skin as he kissed the two marks on opposite ends of your collarbone. “But you feel too damn good, I couldn’t control myself.”

You could only respond with a moan as his cock continued to brush against that sweet spot inside you. Your legs slid up his body to bracket his torso, the slight shift just enough to give him even further access.

“Sylus, you feel so fucking good,” you whimpered to him, your nails digging into his back.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he said, nuzzling his face into your neck. He was doing that a lot, almost as if he was trying to absorb the scent of you.

“Yes,” you hissed. “Take me.”

“Come with me, Kitten.”

At his words and a final hard thrust of his hips, you shattered beneath him. Your body arched off the bed, limbs jerking with your head thrown back into the pillows. His name echoed into the room from your pleasured screams. This climax was the most intense one you’ve ever had, threatening your consciousness with black spots dancing at the edge of your vision. It was like Sylus had lit your entire body on fire with electricity. It crackled through you, your body’s convulsing no longer yours to control as you just tried to continue to cling to him.

You could feel his own orgasm steamroll through him as well. His hips jerked erratically as his cock twitched and pulsed inside you. His moans in your ear were punctuated by panting breaths and guttural growls. His sac grew taut and then he was spilling into you once more. He experienced full body trembling, quivering, spasming, and his desperate moans filled the room with yours.

His cock finally seemed to be through and he slipped from you. He left the bed without a word, coming back seconds later from the bathroom with a warm rag to help clean you up and a cool glass of water that you chugged. You were embarrassed but grateful at his care- though it was almost for naught as the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other in the shower. It seemed like there would be a never ending stream of cum flowing from your cunt with how many times he couldn’t resist burying himself in you.

After several more rounds in various positions, you were finally tucked against him and nodding off to the sleep you should have had at least six hours ago.

__

When you finally did wake, Sylus had stepped out with instructions to the twins to bring you breakfast and whatever else you wanted. Unfortunately for you, Sylus didn’t think about any kind of implications when he directed them to his room instead of your own. To make matters worse, you were bundled in his blankets, looking like you were still exhausted from a night of little to no sleep due to Sylus’s bullshit stamina.

The twins, though, were so obnoxiously delighted by the news that you “finally slept with the boss” that they kept trying to high five you whilst you were trying to fight them away out of embarrassment.

You got no peace that night or day, but it didn’t stop the contented grin that planted itself on your face.

[devil-in-hiding]

On The Run Part 1

The Barn

mdni

cw: violent behavior, suggestive themes, i will get better at this i swear

It’s a downpour tonight. The roof overhead rattles with the force of the winds outside, keeping you awake. Your eyes drift towards the window periodically, watching the lightening illuminate the night sky, thunder rolling closer and closer as the wind hails. Your four loyal, massive Tibetan Mastiffs lay around your bed, dead to the storm raging outside. You’d normally have them out in the barn, but with how terrible it’s coming down you would have felt terrible.

But now you lie awake, worry in the pit of your stomach. Some of the goats had just given birth, and with this storm you knew the kids had to be distressed, and their bleats often agitated the horses.

You absentmindedly reach down to run a hand through Dixon’s fur, who lets out a pleased huff, nuzzling your palm. You try to let the beat of rain lure you to sleep, eyes finally feeling heavy as your breathing evens out.

But then you hear it, over the raging of the storm you can still hear your stallion, Sebastian, neighing, and then the pound of his hoofs against his stalls, and you're flying out of your bed.

Nothing spooks your stallion, absolutely nothing.

You race down the stairs in just your nightgown, rushing to pull on your boots, no socks, as Dixon, Grimes, Judy and Maggie come bounding after you. You throw open the door, the screen slamming against the house from the wind but you pay no mind, running towards the barn, barely catching yourself from slipping in the mud.

The closer you get, the louder you can hear all your herd. Your hearts pounding harder than the rain when you reach the barn doors, and you can hear the dogs barking behind you as you reach to yank open the double doors

Locked.

Your barn is never locked.

From the inside.

“Hello?!” You yell, slamming your palms against the wood, guilt wracking your body when you hear something scurry away on the other side.

“What are you doing in there?” You scream, shaking the handles with all your might, but they hold strong, and after a harsh yank, your hand slips, sending you flying into the mud.

You can hear what can only be described as chaos in the barn, and tears prick your eyes as you crawl forward, banging your fists against the doors.

“PLEASE! Please don’t hurt my animals! They’re already scared! Please- AH!” You scream as the door flies open, sending you face first into the barn floor.

You barely register the blood dripping from your hands as you scramble to stand up, taking in the scene.

The mares were going wild, bucking and kicking the doors of their stalls while Sebastian raged, having busted his door down, prancing infront of his ladies protectively.

Your goats were huddled in a group on the corner, the kids tucked between their bodies and the sheep standing in front of them, shaking so badly their wool was trembling. The rest of the stock is scattered, hiding in various corners of the barn.

You whistle, which immediately catches Sebastian’s attention, huffing and puffing.

“I’m here! It’s okay, ma is here!” You hush them, slowly walking towards the stallion with your hand out, palm up.

He neighs, tossing his head, leaning down to sniff your hand, when he stops, and suddenly a new sound reaches your ears.

Dixon and Grimes are growling out a warning.

Before you can even blink, there’s a hand over your mouth. Your gasp is muffled at the pressure of cold steel at your neck, an arm wrapping around your chest pulling you into a firm, solid figure.

“Not. A. Sound.” A gruff voice barks in your ear, and your blood runs cold.

“Lock the doors back.” The man orders, and a sinking feeling overcomes you when you hear a new set of footsteps. You stumble as you’re jerked back, Dixon barking as you start to thrash, kicking your feet, but the grip around you tightens.

“Fuckin- Knock it off!” He growls, pressing what you can only guess is your carving knife painfully against your throat and Grimes lets out a guttural sounding bark before lunging, only to yelp when a foot shoves him back, and you thrash harder, attempting to nip at this man’s hand.

“Stop you little fuckin-SHIT!” He bellows as your teeth sink into his palm, not releasing until you taste his blood splash over your teeth, and then you’re on the ground.

“Little bitch!”

“Don’t touch my fucking animals.” You spit, turning to stare up at the intruder, just to be met with a ski mask and cold eyes. You can’t help but freeze, the carving knife glinting in the low light of the barn.

He’s quick, and you try to stumble to your feet, but you're once more in his grasp. You go for a punch, but he catches your wrist easily, pinning your arm behind your back with one hand and yanking your forward with the other, pinning you against him, and the knife is at your throat again.

“Let’s try this again.” He says between clenched teeth, tightening his grip till you whimper.

“Ghost. Lighten up.” A voice pipes up, raspy and stern with a commanding tone. The masked man, Ghost, rolls his eyes, but loosens the hold he has on your wrist.

“Who else lives here?” He questions, and it feels as though a bucket of cold water has been dumped over you.

“No one…” You whisper, squeezing your eyes shut when his grip tightens once more. “Don’t bullshit us. Who else lives on this land with you?!” He’s in your face, making you open your eyes, tears blurring your vision.

“It’s just me I swear!” You sob, feeling the tip of the knife digging into your skin. “I swear to god it’s just me, you can go check the house-“

The pressure of the knife is gone, and the shock of your bare knees hitting the barn floors barely phases you as Dixon and Grimes dart to your side, whining softly as they nudge your hands with their heads.

“Think she’s telling the truth?” A new voice speaks up, a thick Scottish accent ringing in your ears as you try to put distance between you and the four, you are finally able to count, men standing in the middle of your barn.

“Explains the massive mutts.” Ghost grunts, glancing at the four mastiffs, who you push behind you, shielding them, trying not to let your fear show more than it already has.

“They aren’t mutts.” You hiss, Judy nuzzling her giant head into your back as you shuffle them back, away from these men.

You hold your head high, but your lip can’t help but tremble when all their eyes turn to you.

“You sure there’s no one else in that great big house?” The older man with scruffy facial hair asks with a tilt of his head, and a spark of agitation flares in your chest. Why did they want to know so badly? if they were going to…

If they were going to kill you, surely they would have done it by now, right?

“I swear on my life.” You plead, voice cracking. You’re horrified when you realize your nightgown has been soaked through this whole time, noticing the way the one with the mohawk, the Scot, keeps eyeing your bosom. You look away, cheeks burning as fresh tears prick your eyes.

“Soap, Gaz. You two go check the house. Report back to me, I want a moment with her.” The unnamed man ordered.

Mohawk and a dark skinned man nodded, heading out of the barn. Ghost passes one of them the carving knife, and your fist curl in your lap.

“What do I do Price?” Ghost asks, and the man, Price, waves a hand, eyes trained on you. “Search the surrounding area, look for anyone hiding on the property.”

“Understood.”

And then you were alone. The barn has settled, most of your animals having made their way to the farthest wall behind you. He approaches you slowly, cautiously eyeing Dixon who raises up, baring his teeth, but you click your tongue, and he steps back immediately, sitting at your side like a statue as the others guard the flock.

You feel a puff of air breath against your head, and you can’t help the wet laugh that bubbles out when you realize Sebastian is standing guard over you.

“Seems you’ve got yourself quite the protection.”

He muses, eyes bouncing between the animals.

“They were abandoned when I found this place.” You confess, a slight tremble to your voice as you watch Price crouch in front of you. He’s quiet for a moment, eyes flickering over your form and you wrap your arms around your middle.

“If my men are walking into a trap, whoever is there will be killed.” He says simply, tone almost bored and you feel your face pale.

“They’re not! This is my land! Mine!” You insist, frustrated tears falling freely as you flex your fingers, muscles tense.

“Tiny little bird like you, all by herself?” Ghost scoffs as he returns, and you feel your ears burn.

“What did you find?” Price asks him over his shoulders.

“Can hardly see shit in this rain but I found no one. There’s a truck around back but the engine seems shot.” He shrugs, eyes peering at you through that ski mask and you avert your gaze.

The doors open against, the other two rushing in, soaked to the bone.

“The house is clear sir. Only one room looks lived in, two guest rooms down the hall on the upper level and a small library on the ground level. Gaz found a shotgun by the front door.” The Scot, Soap, you gather, reports back to Price.

“I told you. It’s just me out here.” You mutter, and this time Ghost is crouching in front of you, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him.

“You hiding from something little bird?” He asks, cocking his head to the side

“You’re the ones breaking into my barn and scaring my animals!” You snap, trying to get out of his grip, but he only holds tighter.

“You’re a little fighter aren’t you?” You see his eyes crinkle, and you're shocked this man even knows how to smile under that mask.

He releases you, standing up and stepping back to stand with the other three men, who still loom over you. You feel like a lamb being sent to the slaughter house, and you bury one of your hands in Dixon’s thick fur to ground yourself.

“Please-“ You start, voice shaking, and you feel a tear slip down your cheek.

“I don’t have much, there’s maybe three thousand dollars in the safe in my closet. I’ll give you the code just…” Your voice trails off, a sob slipping past your lips and Dixon whines, low and sad as he places his giant head in your lap.

“Please don’t hurt us. D-don’t hurt my animals- I won’t even call the cops, it would take the nearest deputy three hours to even reach my house.” You beg, exhaustion and nerves taking over as your shoulders slump, trembling with your quiet sobs.

You see Price’s boots approach you, and he tilts your chin up, and you flinch when he brushes a tear away with his thumb.

“Stop all these tears pretty. We don’t want to hurt you or your little farm.” He coos down at you. Confusion swirls in your head, making you dizzy as another sob can’t help but slip out, Price cupping your cheeks, shushing you softly as he wipes your cheeks.

“I don’t understand…” You whisper, searching this strange, terrifying man’s face for any sign of deceit, but he just grins at you.

“You told us the truth. Very good.” It sounds almost like praise the way he whispers it to you, and you whimper, shame filling your stomach. You look away from him, taking a shuddering breath as you struggle to compose yourself.

“Let’s get you back inside hm? Can’t have you catching a cold.” He tsks, and before you can argue, you’re being lifted into his arms, tucked against his chest. You try to struggle, but the adrenaline has worn off, confusion left in its wake as these strange men usher the herd into their correct pens, Soap barley escaping one of the Roosters pecking at him in defiance, before pausing.

“I don’t think I want to mess with this guy.” Gaz mutters, the three of them staring at Sebastian, who stares back, as though daring them to try and corral him.

“He.. He’ll go back in his stall once it’s quiet… You scared them…” You mutter, tired as you give in, resting your head against the strong chest you’re pressed against, and you feel Price’s grip tighten.

“You’re freezing sweetheart, let’s get you out of these wet clothes.” He murmers, and your heart skips.

“I can do that myself.” You hiss, staring up at him with narrowed eyes, despite the fact you can feel your cheeks burning.

He just laughs.

[ariestrxsh]

mean!chris x shy!reader

✰ content warning: smut, getting caught, pornography, mutual masturbation, vouyerism/exhibitionism, dirty talk, sneaking around, enemies to lovers

✰ summary: while staying the night with nick and matt, you accidentally stumble upon chris jerking off to porn, and in the heat of the moment, despite the fact that neither of you get along, he invites you to join him

idk who first wrote mean!chris or shy!reader, so I can't give proper credits, but I feel like it's definitely been written before, so credits to everyone who did it before me!

dividers by @/anitalenia

Lights Turned On

chapters: | 1 | 2 |

"What the hell do you think you're doing in here?" Chris demanded, silencing his mic as he sat shirtless in front of his laptop, gaming with his friends. He didn't even bother looking up at you, continuing to tap away on his controller. However, he could see your silhouette slip into his room out of the corner of his vision.

His room was dark, the only light coming from the glow of his screen, giving his blue eyes an almost ethereal look. He smelled faintly of aftershave and body wash, and the damp look of his hair indicated to you that he had just taken a shower.

Despite the close bond you'd had with his two brothers, Chris had never warmed up to you in the same way Matt and Nick had. He was always acting cold towards you, making snide comments, and doing just about anything he could to get under your skin.

It might not have bothered you so much if you hadn't been secretly crushing on him since you met him. Despite how painfully obvious it was, it was something that none of the brothers had picked up on, including Chris.

In some ways, you were disgusted with yourself for finding Chris attractive. He was messy, loud, inconsiderate, and rather mean to you most of the time. You just couldn't help but always want to be around him and look at him. You just wanted him to notice you and pay attention to you, even if he was poking fun at you.

"Spit it out. You lost or somethin'?" He asked, slipping a headphone off his ear and peering up at you over his computer with a mixture of annoyance and frustration that you hadn't answered his question. "I'm looking for some extra pillows and blankets. We're having a movie night downstairs. Matt and Nick said you might have some."

Chris rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, check that closet. Should be some in there." You made your way over to his closet door, resting your hand on the cold metal of the knob and tugging it open. Just like Chris had said, he had both extra blankets and pillows neatly placed on the top shelf.

As you stood on your tippy toes, trying to reach them, just barely grazing the wool fabric with the tips of your fingers, you heard a chuckle from behind you. Then Chris said something into his mic about stepping away from the game for a second, and he took off his headphones, placing them on the edge of his desk before he approached you, seeming even more irritated now.

Your heart raced as you felt the warmth of his body as he came up behind you, his chest nearly touching your back as he retrieved the bedding from the top shelf of his closet with ease. You spun around, and Chris was shoving the blankets into your arms with an unamused look on his face that you could barely make out in the dark.

"You're fuckin' helpless, you know that?" He rasped before making his way back over to his gaming chair. You could feel blood rush to your cheeks as you stood in place, your heartbeat hammering away in your chest and your stomach fluttering from how close he had just been to you.

Your gaze danced over his flared nostrils, his pouty lips, and his concentrated expression that were all lit up by the blue light of his computer. You didn't mean to gawk, but God, he looked so pretty when he was annoyed. "You need somethin' else?" He asked, his eyes locked onto you from above the screen of his laptop again.

You dumbly shook your head no, not moving from where you stood, clutching the blankets in your arms. "Then scram. I'm busy," he huffed, his eyes dropping back down to his game. Embarrassed by how flustered he had gotten you and hoping that he hadn't noticed, you fled without saying another word.

Downstairs, you and the other brothers were bundled up under the blankets with a bag of popcorn sitting between the three of you as the movie started. You, Nick, and Matt stayed up late, whispering and laughing amongst yourselves until your voices started to drop off and were replaced by the sounds of rhythmic breathing and quiet snoring.

By the time the movie had ended and the credits were rolling, both Matt and Nick were sound asleep on either side of you, and you were fluttering in and out of consciousness. You contemplated joining them in their slumber, giving yourself over to sleep and cocooning yourself up in the mess of blankets that Chris had given you earlier in the night.

However, the light from the TV made that nearly impossible, and as you reached up to rub your tired eyes, you felt the old, dry mascara that was still caked to your lashes. You let out a sigh, knowing you couldn't sleep like this, at least not comfortably.

You quietly stood to your feet, carefully stepping over one of the boys to go shut off the source of the bright light. It took your eyes a few seconds to adjust to the darkness, and before nestling back into the bedding strewn across the floor, you decided to head up to Nick's room to grab your toothbrush and facewash.

You tiptoed up the stairs, hoping not to wake anyone as you slowly guided yourself through the darkness with the rail of the banister. You reached the top of the steps, and as you started to head towards Nick's bedroom, you heard a sound that made your stomach flip. It was coming from Chris' room.

You silently approached his cracked door, and the closer you got, the more clearly the lewd noises came through. You heard heavy breathing and soft moaning, whimpering almost. You peered in, taking in the sight of Chris leaning back against his headboard, still shirtless, one hand holding his phone sideways and the other moving rapidly beneath his blanket.

Your breath caught in your throat as it dawned on you what he was doing. The brightness of his phone lit up his face, giving you a view of every detail - his hooded blue eyes, his softened facial features, and his pink lips curling into a blissful smile. He looked more attractive now than ever.

You could hear the sound of him furiously pumping his length and the sound of his moans escaping him complimented by the noises that played from his phone. "Fuck," he whispered, his breath and the stroke of his hand both speeding up rapidly.

You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't take your eyes off of him, and you could tell he was nearing the edge. You lingered in his doorway, biting down on your lip as you felt a familiar warmth spreading in your lower stomach. A wetness pooled between your legs, and you squeezed your thighs together to relieve some of the built-up tension.

You were so enthralled by the scenery, sticking your head so far in through the door that you didn't notice how close you were to touching it until your hand brushing against it made it creak open wider. The sound startled him, snapping him back to reality and pulling him out of his sexual fantasies.

Chris immediately ceased the motion of his hand and shut off his phone screen. You gasped, too stunned to move. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw your silhouette in the doorway. "Jesus! You scared the fuck out of me," Chris chuckled, realizing he'd definitely been caught.

"I-I'm sorry. I was just going to Nick's room," you managed to squeak out, completely embarrassed you'd been caught peeping on him. "You forget which room was his or somethin'?" He teased you, his voice lower and softer this time.

He continued to slowly stroke himself under his blanket, thinking it was too dark for you to see, but you knew what he was doing. "What? You want a private show or somethin'?" Chris snickered, his voice laced with sarcasm, but you didn't pick up on the joke.

You swallowed hard, your words caught in your throat. You bit down on your lip and curled your fingers tightly around the edge of the door as you silently waited in the entry way for what felt like an eternity.

"Jesus, kid. Either come in and close the door or fuck off," he responded in a hushed voice, sounding a bit annoyed that you'd interrupted him, but you figured if he were that annoyed with you, he would've only given you one option - fuck off.

You took a step forward, officially crossing the barrier between the hallway and his bedroom. You pushed the door closed, sounding the faint click of the latch as it locked into place.

His eyebrows flew up in shock, realizing you really did want a private show. He'd given you the first option half-heartedly, certainly not expecting you to take him up on it, but the realization that you wanted to stay made his cock pulse in his grasp.

His breath was soft and quiet, but you could hear it becoming more shallow as he continued to pump his length. "C'mere. I won't bite. Unless you want me to," he hissed, his voice low and full of lust as he patted the bed beside him, inviting you to come closer.

You slowly approached him, half-expecting him to start teasing you for wanting to watch or pull some kind of mean prank on you. "Light on?" He asked, making your stomach flip even more. "Sure," you quietly mumbled. Chris switched on the lamp on his bedside table, the soft yellow glow lighting up the one corner of his room that you two were in.

His eyes met yours before your gaze traveled back down to his hand, moving slowly beneath the blanket. Chris' eyes followed you as you sat down next to him, and the way he looked at you starting to shift.

He always just saw you as his brothers' annoying friend who was around all the time, always needing something. However, he found himself getting excited by the idea of you being interested in what he was doing beneath the covers. He never expected this scenario to play out, especially not with you.

The air between the two of you was thick with tension, and Chris waited in anticipation for you to make the next move. "What were you watchin'?" You asked, curiously glancing at his phone that was resting on his chest facedown.

An expression of both interest and surprise crossed his face at your question. He chuckled, reaching for his phone and picking it up with his free hand. "You mean what was I watchin' before you barged in here and interrupted me?" He laughed. "Porn. Obviously," he sneered, his snarky attitude never faltering.

"No shit. What kind?" You wondered aloud, growing more confident and more curious as Chris responded with vague answers. "I mean, it must have been really hot with the way you were going at it." His lips curled into a smug smile, realizing why you were asking.

"Why? Wanna watch with me?" He wondered, searching your face for a reaction. Your eyes subtly widened, and you slowly nodded. You couldn't believe Chris was going to share with you the kinds of things he liked to get off to. The vulnerability of the moment had you more turned on than you'd ever been in your life.

He unlocked his phone, turning the screen so that both of you could see it. "Just this slutty little redhead taking two cocks at once," Chris lustfully responded, continuing to stroke himself under the blanket.

Of course, even in the way he described the video, he couldn't help but talk about the woman in a degrading manner. Typical.

You hated that you found that kind of hot.

When you felt yourself clenching around nothing at the way he described the scene, you wondered where the hell your self-respect had gone, and then you started to wonder if you'd had any at all to begin with, considering you were getting wet over a jerk like Chris.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to the video that Chris played, picking back up where he had left off. It was a woman on all fours, bent over the arm of a couch while one guy was pounding into her from behind, smacking her ass, and the other guy was fucking her mouth, gently running his fingers through her hair and pushing her head down to take more of him.

The volume was low, but you could hear the sound of skin slapping against skin and the sound of the woman moaning around the second man's cock. She looked like she was really enjoying herself, being the center of their attention.

You found your hand wandering south and slipping into the waistband of your shorts. As if you had no control over it, you began to soothe the aching feeling between your legs, your middle finger gently tracing your folds and teasing your slit, your gaze locked onto the scene that played out in front of you.

"If you're not into this, you don't have to watch it, but I'm not changing it," Chris replied, his voice trailing off at the end as his eyes left the screen for a moment and wandered over towards you. His breath hitched as he noticed the placement of your right hand, telling him all he needed to know about what you thought of the video.

You were gently tracing circles over your clit with your fingertips as you bit down on your lip to keep your moans from escaping. When you became aware that his eyes were on you, you grew self-conscious and brought your movements to an abrupt stop.

"Oh, so you do like this? You wish that were you, huh?" He teased, nudging you in the arm. Your cheeks grew warm at his accusation. "C'mon. Don't be shy. Keep going," he quietly encouraged you. He kept his gaze on you, enthralled by the way you looked while you pleasured yourself.

At first, you were just watching the video, but you couldn't help that your focus started to shift from Chris' phone screen to his hand that was rapidly moving under the blankets. You couldn't keep yourself from picturing what it looked like. A smirk played in the corner of his lip as he realized where your attention was.

"You wanna see it, don't you?" Chris purred, reading the look of desire that was written all over your face and the way your eyes lit up when he offered. You swallowed the lump in your throat and silently nodded. Chris chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. He pulled back the blanket, revealing himself to you.

He let it fall flat against his stomach, gently running his fingertips along the backside as he glanced over at you, searching for your reaction. You were mesmerized. It was a little bigger than average, a few veins decorating his length.

He gripped his shaft and pointed his tip towards the sky, giving you a different perspective. The head was a perfect mushroom shape and bright pink from how swollen it was. A bit of precum glistened, pearling at his slit as he continued manhandling himself.

"I have kind of a strange request," Chris told you, wetting his lips as he stared at your own. "Sure. What is it?" You innocently asked, but your mind was racing with what the next words that were going to leave his mouth would be. He'd been going back and forth for the past several minutes, debating on whether he should ask or not, and he'd finally decided that he couldn't help himself.

"The only downside to just using my hand is, it gets a little dry after a while," he started to say, his voice low and full of lust, hoping you understood where he was going with this. "Do you think you could like.. spit on it?" He nibbled on his lower lip as he waited in anticipation for you to answer. Your eyes widened, his question sparking your interest.

Whether Chris knew it or not, given the circumstances you were in right now, there wasn't a single thing he could ask you for that you wouldn't give to him in this moment. You certainly weren't going to say no to that. "Of course I can," you responded. His facial features softened, surprised by your enthusiasm.

You leaned forward so that you were hovering just a couple of inches above his cock. You gathered some saliva in your mouth, pursed your lips, and let your spit slowly drip out onto his throbbing cock head. He let out a satisfied sigh as your saliva mixed with his clear fluid and slowly spilled down his tip and onto his length.

"Fuck. That's it," he huskily moaned, tossing his head back for a moment, his eyes fluttering closed as he spread it around. You watched the scene before you unfold, Chris massaging the wetness you provided him with into his cockhead.

You slipped your hand back into your waistband, touching yourself alongside him. He wrapped his fingers around his shaft and started gently squeezing it, making a twisting motion with his wrist every time he dragged his hand back up his length.

The video was still playing in the background, and the two of you would periodically glance over at it, enjoying the way it heightened the experience. However, you each found your eyes wandering back over towards the other person.

Chris' gaze flicked back and forth between your hand in your shorts and your face, and you did the same, glancing back and forth between Chris' cock and his pleasured expressions, every once in a while, the two of you meeting each other's stare.

"You wanna know a secret?" Chris asked in between his staggered breaths. "Mhmm," you replied in a soft moan, nodding your head. He leaned in a little closer to you, lowering his voice to a volume just above a whisper.

"I love jerking off with an audience. The way you're looking at my cock right now makes it so much hotter than if I were just doing it alone," he admitted, emphasizing every stroke for your benefit. Your eyes widened at his confession.

"You know what else I love?" He asked, a soft moan unfurling from his lips before he licked them. "What?" You asked, excited to hear what incredibly hot thing he was gonna say next. "I really like talking dirty to someone while I jerk off for them," he disclosed, smirking over at you.

"Let's hear it then," you replied with your eyes locked onto his. Chris was taken aback by your boldness, a stark contrast from the seemingly innocent, shy, and reserved demeanor you approached him with in your everyday life.

"You're a very naughty girl for spying on me, you know that?" Chris purred under his breath. "See how hard I am for you? See how hard I get from you watching me? Fuck, I'm not gonna last much longer if you keep looking at it like that.."

His words sent a pulsing to your clit, and you started to rub it faster. He softly moaned, mirroring you and speeding up his strokes. "You like watching me jerk off for you, don't you?" He taunted you, leaning in a bit closer to you again. "I do," you quietly replied.

"I bet if I hadn't caught you, you would've watched me from my doorway until I busted all over my hand," he accused you. You didn't confirm nor deny his claim, but the look on your face said it all. "You've fantasized about this before, haven't you? Watching me stroke my cock for you.." He cooed, his voice trailing off as his breath quickened.

"How do you know that?" You asked, continuing to rub your clit in small, fast circles while the two of you gazed into each other's eyes. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lip as he bit down on it. "It was just a shot in the dark, but the fact that you just admitted to it.. fuck.. that's so hot," he whispered.

It was getting harder for each of you to hold back. The sound of each of you whimpering filled the room, along with the lewd, wet sounds of each of you pleasuring yourselves. You could feel the knot in your stomach forming and threatening to come undone any moment now.

That's when you heard your name unfurl from Chris' lips, followed by him saying in a gravelly voice, "Fuck. I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna bust all over my hand just for you." His words made your pussy throb, immediately sending you over the edge. Your whole body started to shake, the muscles in your core spasming.

"Chris.." you softly whined, gazing into his eyes as you came all over your fingers and his sheets that you were clutching onto tightly with your free hand. "Fuck," Chris moaned as he reached his own climax beside you. You peered down at his cock just in time to admire the pearly white substance that had shot all over his stomach and his chest.

Your gaze fell to his hand that was still steadily pumping his length, completely coated in a thick layer of his fluid. You watched as a few final ropes of cum ejected from his swollen tip and started to drip down the sides of his cock.

A guttural sound fell from his lips as he slowed down his strokes, draining every last drop. You each stared at each other, breathlessly, both of your chests heaving in unison. A look of bliss and satisfaction crossed both of your faces as you each sat there, processing what had just happened while you each tried to recover from your respective orgasms.

Chris reached for a dirty shirt that was on the floor to clean his mess up with. He glanced back over at you, still calling his breath back to him as he let out a soft chuckle. "This stays between us, okay? All of it. If you ever tell anyone, I'll deny it and tell them it was some weird, sick dream you had."

You nodded in agreement. You didn't want a single soul knowing that you and Chris had watched porn and gotten off together, and you certainly didn't want them knowing it had happened because you were peeping on him.

"Get back downstairs before one of my brothers wakes up," Chris replied, his intense blue eyes lingering on you. You got up and headed for the door, your heart racing when you realized the two of you had moaned each other's names rather loudly as you'd both finished. You prayed that it hadn't woken anybody up as you reached for Chris' door knob.

"You're so fuckin' pretty when you cum by the way," Chris mumbled from behind you. You stopped for a moment and glanced over your shoulder. "So are you," you said in response, watching Chris scroll through his phone, avoiding eye contact with you.

He chuckled, finding it both comical and endearing that 'pretty' was the descriptor you wanted to go with. "Thanks." Chris switched off his lamp, and you left his room, completely forgetting your toothpaste and facewash in Nick's room.

You tiptoed back downstairs, grateful that everyone was still sleeping soundly.

[lillesfavouritecubes]

Well, it's still halloween somewhere, so I am taking this as an excuse to do something scary: Have a lil bit of baby's first fanfic, set in a hermitcraft/mcyt shadowrun au i've been slowly rotating for a few months now.

Featuring ZombieCleo, drone expert and Joe Hills, local menace.

„Look. Uh… I really don’t want any trouble? Like I am not being paid enough to mess with you. Soooo… If we could… stop with the spooky lights? Really would love that.“

In response the lights flickered again, bursting a number of lights on some of the more dilapidated machines.

„Okay… okay, fine. This is fine. Sure. Spooky lighting it is then.“ Cleo cursed under their breath, holding their SMG tight. Was it going to work against a ghost? Probably not, but it was better than trying to punch said ghost.

Cleo sighed in relief when the arcade fell quiet and dark again. Maybe the ghost had gotten bored?

NOPE. NOPE. DEFINITELY NOT.

„Howdy there, Joe Hills here, floating as I always do in this abandoned arcade. And today I am bringing this random person here the challenge of a lifetime! The Colliseum of Infernal Skies 2! I am calling you out, random stranger!“

[catcze]

SEMI-NSFW!! 16+ ONLY !! — Sylus. gn reader, no body parts mentioned. Fade to black right before you fuck so nothing explicit, but heavily implied. Lovesick Sylus ♡

Yes, Sylus finds enjoyment in branding your skin with his teeth, leaving marks for all to admire for the coming days. He’s a man in love— sue him. But when you’re the one marking him up, clinging to him with your face buried in his neck and your teeth in his skin, painting another pretty bruise there for everyone to see, Sylus’ breath catches and his heart races. Knowing that you’re marking him— that you’re staking a claim on him. That you’re declaring him yours. Your man, your beloved, your dragon.

A helpless groan rises from his chest, guttural and rough. One of his arms wraps around you, keeping you pressed close. It’s almost like he’s begging you to keep going— to leave more bites and bruises on his skin. Enough that they won’t fade, enough that no one doubts the fact that he’s yours.

His other hand rises to his mouth, shakily trying to muffle the embarrassing litany of gasps and groans that are punched from his chest. His cheeks are heated, his wool body feeling like it’s burning under your touch.

“I’m all yours,” Sylus can’t help but breathlessly murmur when you (regrettably) part from the painting of bruises on his neck. His eyes are hazy— dazed. Like he’s seeing the world in sparkles and shines, with you at the center of it all. His hand tightens around your waist. “Say it, my heart. Please.”

And he’s helpless as you caress his cheek so gently. Helpless to melt in the palm of your hand, cheek nuzzling against your touch like a man starved. His eyes flutter shut, and his one hand grasps yours, holding it still as he presses a kiss to the base of your palm, then your wrist, then each of your fingertips.

You shiver at the heat in his kiss— at the expression of pure love and desire that he wears. It’s hard to breathe, you think, when faced with your dragon’s immeasurable devotion. “You’re mine,” you say, soft and sincere, trying your best to not let your voice shake. Sylus shakes underneath you. “From now until eternity— you’re mine.”

And he groans, raw and ragged, the sound of deep satisfaction pulled from somewhere in the recesses of his soul. It feels so right when you say that— when you claim him as yours. It makes all the years he’s spent without it seem microscopic in comparison. He’d relive it all, just to hear you say it again and again.

“And you’re mine, as well,” Sylus says, taking your hand and pressing it over his chest, where his heart beats, but only for you. “And I will always find my way back to you.”

With a single smooth movement, he rolls the two of you until your back is cushioned against the sheets of the bed, and he’s hovering over you— the only thing you can see. Crimson eyes devour you hungrily, reverently. But his hand is still gentle as he caressed your cheek, soft in the way his arm around your middle still keeps you pressed against him.

“Let me show you my devotion, my heart, so that you never forget it again,” Sylus murmurs, the hand on your cheek trailing down— down your neck, past your chest, even lower than your stomach, and suddenly, you understand why dragons are described as greedy creatures.