#weed fort

[abeautifulmenace]

Let's build a blanket fort, watch horror movies, get super high and cuddle all day

[jayisplug]

That top shelf zaza got me on da mood on God 🔥🤘🌊🌊

[forter-from-meteos]

it is officially meteos-posting time

[obxsprincess]

IM STILL HERE AND THRIVING DW i was scrolling ur acct while off a blinker last night it was kinda magical

-🌷

I WAS BOUTA START OFFERING TREATS FOR MY SLUTS TO CUMMM BACK OMGGG

[fivepercentgodsandearths]

[rylikebread]

All finished with social interactions today. I’m taking my happy ass to the forest

[sleepyhoon]

TWO MOONS - L.HS

pairing. plug!heeseung x reader

genre. smut, 18+ content, one shot, drabble. MDNI!

word count. 4k+

warnings. drug & alcohol consumption, partying, swearing, sex while intoxicated, short smut [ dry humping, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), fingering ]

synopsis. based off of this hard thought! plug!heeseung who likes you so much that he's convinced himself that you're kinda evil.

a/n. sorry this took so long lol hope u enjoy regardless :) no part 2 so plss dont request it but maybe some drabbles!! also not fully proofread so pls disregard any typos or grammatical errors hehe

Never in his life did Heeseung predict he’d be getting bitched around by a girl arguably much shorter, physically weaker, and far less intimidating than him. And yet here he was, shirtless in his kitchen at two in the morning on his third attempt of baking edibles all because you were too scared to smoke a little weed. 

Fucking ridiculous.

It’s his own fault, really, he should’ve known that innocent, good girl persona you put on was all an act you use to control people – specifically men. Stirring the dessert batter in the mixing bowl, Heeseung shakes his head at the memory of you tilting your head and batting your eyelashes at him as you spoke, your perfectly manicured nails – that you probably got some desperate bitchboy to pay for – tracing and lightly scratching his bicep.

“So,” you started, dragging out the ‘o’, “how much do you charge for edibles?”

Heeseung shakes his head, tracing the rim of his half-empty red solo cup as he responds, “Edibles aren’t my forte. You don’t smoke?”

“Not my forte,” you say in a mocking tone, making Heeseung chuckle. “It’s just too much, you know? The smell, how quick it kicks in…not for me. But, uh, if you don’t make them I’ll stop wasting your time, then.” You give Heeseung a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning on your heels, fully prepared to disappear back into the party and find someone who actually meets your needs.

“Wait!” Heeseung stops you, tugging on your arm until you’re back to facing him. He can’t fucking believe this bullshit manipulation tactic you’re using on him is actually working, he’s literally pulling on your arm like a child so you won’t leave him.

You raise a brow at him as you wait for Heeseung to continue, taking note of his sudden nervousness, “Yeah?”

“Uh…are you into, like, brownies? Or…”

The smirk you gave in response said enough, you’ve got him exactly where you want him.

He’d spent the next few hours browsing the aisles of Target, checking his phone every so often and checking off each ingredient as he tossed them into the bright red shopping cart. To make matters worse, you hadn’t even requested normal brownies, you wanted some shit he’d hardly ever heard of before: blondies. 

It was bad enough that Heeseung already couldn’t bake for shit, and here you were demanding he’d make something he’d never even tasted before; you really are a master manipulator.

His third and final attempt at baking the blondies were a success, his three roommates taste-testing the fresh batch as a final confirmation.

“I can’t even taste it,” Jake says, his brows shooting up in delight, “you sure you’re not forgetting the main ingredient?”

“That’s the whole point,” Heeseung explains, cutting the remaining batch into neat squares, “YN doesn’t want the taste to be too strong, she likes when it’s more subtle and takes awhile to kick in.”

“Are you her wife or her plug?” Sunghoon jokes from his spot on the couch, taking a small bite of his own blondie.

“Neither,” Jay inserts himself into the conversation, taking a seat next to Sunghoon, “I’m sure he wants to be both, though.”

“Fuck off,” Heeseung snaps, momentarily narrowing his eyes at his roommates. “We just met, I’m just trying to get to know her.” He sets the knife down, reaching into the wooden cabinet to retrieve ziplock bags.

“You’re already her bitch, what else is there to know?” Sunghoon half-jokes, resting his feet on the ottoman.

“I am not her bitch.”

He totally is, if the way he’s hurrying to send you a picture of the freshly made blondies is anything to go by.

Heeseung * 2:47 AM

[Attachment: 1 Image] Yooo

YN * 9:06 AM

omggggg  ur the fucking best how much??

You didn’t respond until the following morning, causing Heeseung to nearly jump out of his skin once he woke up to your texts. He turns on his side, elbow propped up against the mattress as he formulates a response.

Heeseung * 10:31 AM

1 for 10 or 2 for 15. venmo or cashapp But lmk if you want more 

YN * 10:40 AM

no cash? :(

Heeseung’s about to go on a long winded explanation about how money transferring apps are quicker and more convenient than accepting cash when you interrupt him by sending a photo.

YN * 10:41 AM 

[Attachment: 1 Image] plsssss i don’t trust cashapp and ive been having issues w my venmo acc :(

It’s a photo of the bottom half of your face, lips formed into a cute pout with your camera angled low enough to show off your cleavage. You weren’t even trying to be discreet, setting your forearm underneath your chest to make your boobs sit higher, the cheetah print material of your bra peeking out from under your too-small tank top.

Heeseung swallows hard, staring down at the photo with his pupils blown wide as his trembling fingers type out a response.

Heeseung * 10:50 AM

Actually you know what don’t even worry about it lmao Consider it a gift When r u free for pickup Or i can bring to u Either or is fine lol

YN * 10:59 AM

omg :o are u sure?  don’t want u to lose out on money >.<

Heeseung * 11:11 AM

It’s fine dw about me baby U picking up? Or want me to drop off On campus is too risky

YN * 11:12 AM

thank u hee!!!!!!! im done with classes around 4:30 i’ll pick up around then if that works also u responded at 11:11…angel number u must be my angel :o

There you go again with your subtle manipulation tactics that Heeseung swears won’t work on him. If there really is angel out of the two of you, it definitely wouldn’t be you, but Heeseung’s not too sure he’d be considered one either. After all, in the twelve minutes it took him to respond to your message, he spent ten of them fucking into his fist as he stared at the photo you sent.

His mind conjured up countless scenarios; leaving hickeys and bite marks across your chest, slipping his dick between your tits as you held them together for him, cumming all over them, fucking anything. Desperate wasn’t even the word.

Heeseung * 11:13 AM

Must be :)

After a month and a half of being your personal baker slash bitchboy, Heeseung really is convinced that you’re using him, yet he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything he’s grateful, fully aware that if it weren’t for him being your plug, the two of you likely never would’ve crossed paths despite attending the same universities.

There wasn’t an ounce of school spirit in his body, so he had little to no urgency to attend any of the sporting events you cheered at or one of the many school-sponsored events you were required to attend. Meeting you at that party not too long ago had been his first encounter with you ever, and you clearly left him with a great first impression on him.

Since that night, he’s found himself conjuring up a new batch of edibles for you every week; brownies, cupcakes, cereal bars, whatever the fuck you wanted, and half the time he’d do it for free if it meant he got to give it to you in person.

He still hasn’t convinced you to actually smoke, though, but maybe it’s for the best. The mere thought of getting high with you and how you’d stare him down with half-lidded eyes was enough to make his dick hard — in fact, it already has. Several times.

Enough time has passed to the point where it’s obvious to everyone, yourself included, that Heeseung has genuine feelings for you that go beyond a physical and sexual attraction. Sure, he’s still convinced that you’re a little bit evil and definitely manipulative, but he considers it part of the fun. He’s also deluded himself into having the “I can fix her” mindset that he’s been using to justify his actions of ignoring your red flags.

However, even if he can’t “fix” you, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. Red is his favorite color, after all.

“You sound…crazy, and she sounds crazier,” Jake leans against the kitchen counter, raising a concerned brow at Heeseung as he takes a sip of his drink.

“I’m not crazy,” Heeseung corrects, “and YN is…I don’t know, honestly. Leave her alone, dipshit.”

Jake throws a hand up in defense, glaring when a fellow partygoer accidentally bumps into him, nearly causing him to spill his drink. “Rather be a dipshit than a bitchboy.” He mutters loud enough for Heeseung to hear before groaning, “Wow, speak of the devil.”

Heeseung turns, following Jake’s line of sight until he spots you walking through the front door. Stunning as always, your khaki mini skirt and black halter top fitting as if they were custom designed for you and only you.

Despite extending you an invitation to Sunghoon’s birthday party, Heeseung was fairly certain you wouldn’t show up tonight, assuming you’d be consumed with cheer practice or one of your many extracurricular activities to attend. Yet, here you were, a wicked grin on your face as you made eye contact with Heeseung.

He gulps in return, eyes wide as he watches you walk over to him and Jake.

You stand beside Heeseung, shooting him a quick smile before directing your attention to Jake, “Sunghoon! Happy birthday, king!”

Jake side-eyes you, briefly glancing at Heeseung before responding, “I’m not…you know what? Nevermind, thanks.” He takes this as an opportunity to exit the conversation, giving Heeseung a light pat on the shoulder as he leaves.

“Didn’t think you’d be here.” Heeseung comments, leaning against the kitchen countertop.

You shrug, “Wasn’t doing anything else, figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by for a little. Besides, I wanted to see you.”

“Yeah?” Heeseung asks, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Yeah,” you respond, taking a step closer and resting your hand on his bicep, “got anything for me?”

Fuck, Heeseung knew he should’ve made another batch of brownies or some shit. He seriously hadn’t been expecting you to show up tonight, otherwise he would’ve been prepared.

He shakes his head, “Not this time, you should’ve told me you were coming; I would’ve made something.”

You groan, momentarily tilting your head back, “I just wanted to surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised,” his hand lands on your waist, pulling your body until your flush against him, “why won’t you just smoke with me?”

You grimace, shaking your head in response.

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Just once? I know your first time wasn’t that great, but, I really think you’d like it if you tried again.”

“I don’t know, Hee…”

“Tell you what,” Heeseung starts, clearing his throat, “smoke with me just this once, and your next few purchases are on me.”

It isn’t much of an offer considering most of the shit he gave you was either free or already extremely discounted, but your eyes light up regardless. “Really?”

Heeseung nods, “I swear.”

You think it over for a moment, the pros instantly outweigh the cons and lead you to accept Heeseung’s desperate offer. 

A few minutes later, you find yourself in a comfortable lounge chair with Heeseung in his backyard, grateful that the remaining partygoers opted to stay indoors, giving you privacy and alone time with him.

You’re sitting sideways on his lap, trying your best to ignore the feeling of his dick pressing right against your ass, neatly rolled blunt in one hand as he uses the other to fish a lighter from his pocket. “You’re nervous,” he comments.

You shake your head, “I’m not.”

“You are, I feel you shaking.”

“I’m fine, just kinda cold. Go on.”

Heeseung studies you for a moment, eye contact strong and intimidating as ever as he brings the blunt to his parted lips. You watch carefully as he brings the lighter towards the tip, focusing entirely too much on the concentrated look on his face as he lights it. Slowly, he begins to rotate it as the end continues to burn, taking a few small puffs here and there.

Satisfied with his creation, Heeseung takes a long, slow drag, inhaling the smoke into his lungs before titling his head away to exhale.

“Your turn,” he says, offering you the blunt.

You hesitantly stare down at it before accepting; it was intimidating to say the least, the scent alone strong enough to make your head hurt. Heeseung watches you patiently, eyes darting between your lips and the blunt in silence.

Deciding you need a little bit of encouragement, he brings his thumb to your lips, parting them slightly as his free-hand wraps around your wrist, “You’ll be fine, trust me.” 

Under the guidance of his calloused hand, you finally bring the blunt up to your lips and briefly inhale before immediately exhaling.

Heeseung chuckles, shaking his head, “How’d that feel?”

You ponder for a moment, passing the blunt back to Heeseung, “I don’t feel anything. Literally nothing.”

“I mean, yeah, you didn’t even inhale it.”

You roll your eyes, “Why are there so many steps? This is why I prefer edibles.”

“I’m just showing you that you have other options, babe.”

“Yeah, well I’m sticking to my baked goods. You can have the rest of that, I don’t want anymore.”

Heeseung’s well aware that you’re a woman of your word, and the chances of you ever smoking again were a definite zero, so trying to get you to change your mind was pointless. However, there is one thing that may just work on you.

“Mind if I try something?”

You perk up, “Try what?”

“I do all the work but you still get high.”

You raise a brow, “That’s possible?”

He nods, “All you’d have to do is take deep breaths.”

Taking a deep breath, you accept Heeseung’s offer with a sigh, resting a hand on his shoulder as you adjust yourself on his lap. “Fine.”

Here goes nothing.

He guides the blunt back to his lips, taking a long drag as he holds the smoke in his mouth. He tilts his head upward towards you, taking your chin in his hand, signaling for you to part your lips. You follow his command and part your lips open, just enough for Heeseung to close the distance and allow the smoke into your mouth, his lips barely brushing against yours in the process.

You take in a deep breath, eyes closed shut and inhale the smoke, careful not to exhale too quickly and have a repeat of your previous attempt.

“How was that?” Heeseung asks, taking note of your sudden silence.

Truthfully, it wasn’t bad. The smell is still too strong for your liking and requires much more effort than biting off a piece of dessert and calling it a day, but it wasn’t bad. You’re certain that Heeseung shotgunning it into your mouth only added to the experience.

“Not bad,” you admit, “probably because you did all the work.”

He chuckles at that, “I’ll always take care of you, remember that.”

Heeseung is having the time of his life, thoroughly convinced that he finally has some power over you. Here you were sitting on his lap in his backyard letting him blow smoke into your mouth. Sure, it may have taken a lot of convincing and begging on his end to get to this point, but none of that matters; baby steps are still movement.

As if the night couldn’t have gotten any better, you’re asking Heeseung to shotgun more smoke into your mouth over and over. He’s careful to maintain a calm and nonchalant demeanor as he does so, not wanting to come off as too eager out of fear of scaring you away. Or even worse, giving you back that power you have over him.

On the fifth time, you swipe your tongue across Heeseung’s bottom lip when he passes the smoke into your mouth, a low groan escaping from him in the process. He’s fully hard in his jeans by now, and there’s no way you can’t feel his dick pressing right into you. Despite the cold weather, your entire body feels warm all over, Heeseung only adding to the pleasure.

You should’ve taken Heeseung a bit more seriously when he said you’d still get high from this; after a few minutes, your limbs were already starting to feel lighter and weaker. A delicate, cloud-like haze fills your head; your vision blurs slightly and it takes a few minutes for you to fully relax.

Heeseung, attentive as ever, remains silent and still has he watches you; primarily due to the fact that you squirming around on his lap is only adding to the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. One wrong move, and he’d surely be cumming in his boxers.

You rest your forehead against Heeseung, pressing a firm hand against his chest when he moves to blow more smoke into your mouth. He hums, staring up at with a concerned look on his face.

You close your eyes, mumbling, “Heeseung…”

He hums again in response, still holding the smoke in his mouth.

You open your eyes briefly before closing them again, balling up the collar of his shirt in your fist as you lean down to press your lips against his. He opens his mouth on instinct, as if it were a second nature, parting his lips slightly and exhaling the smoke into your mouth once again.

Heeseung absentmindedly sets the blunt down, his hands moving to your waist to pull you closer to him until your tits are pressed right up against his chest. He groans into your mouth at the feelings, tilting his head to allow himself further into your mouth. 

You cup his face in your hands, hips moving forward as you slowly begin to grind yourself against him. “Fuck,” he moans in a low voice, “keep doing that.”

You grind down harsher this time, capturing his moan in your mouth in the process. With each movement of your hips, a shiver descends down your spine at the friction; Heeseung is painfully hard, and from what you could feel, he was definitely packing. Bigger than what you would’ve expected.

It all feels too good; you grinding against him, the state of his high, your tongue in his mouth. It’s all so overwhelmingly euphoric that Heeseung hardly realizes how close he is to literally cumming in his boxers.

His body was always overly sensitive whenever he got high, and often avoided any sort of intimacy that involved another person due to how embarrassingly quick he would finish, and tonight doesn't seem to be any different. What makes matters worse is the fact that Heeseung was already desperately attracted to you and had been dreaming of this moment since he’d first met you.

He pulls away quickly, cursing under his breath, “YN, h-hold on,” he stutters, “slow down, please.”

You don’t listen; in fact, you can barely even hear him with how caught up you were in your own head. “Hmm? Say that again?”

“S-slow – ah, fuck – slow down for a sec, baby.”

His grip on your waist tightens, and despite the urgency in his tone of wanting you to slow down, he makes no effort to still your hips move you off of him. Fuck it, it is what it is.

“Why?” You question, tilting your head, but you’re a few seconds too late.

Heeseung’s entire body shivers, hips jolting upwards as he comes on himself, making a mess of his boxers. While that alone was definitely embarrassing, Heeseung is more annoyed over the fact that you’ve regained your power over him. His priorities were definitely fucked, but he didn’t even care; he could clean himself up later, but the damage to his ego would take longer to repair.

Your hands fly to your mouth in shock, eyes widening as you process what’s just happened, “Oh, Heeseung…” you mumble into the palm of your hands.

He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he runs a hand down his face, “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding.”

“It’s okay! It happens! No big deal!” You try to reassure him, but it goes in one ear and out the other.

Sure it happens and maybe it isn’t a big deal, but it is for Heeseung. He’s not the type to bust a nut over someone squirming around in his lap for ten minutes, this shit was fucking insanity.

“I’m seriously not like this, I’m just overly-sensitive when I’m high. I swear, I-”

“It’s fine, Heeseung,” you interrupt, standing from his lap, “if anything, I’m flattered! Why don’t you, uh, get cleaned up and I’ll see you later?”

“YN, come on, don’t do this.” He pleads, following you and you make your way towards the sliding door. 

“I told you, it’s fine! I’m not like,” you pause, opening the door with a loud grunt, “mad or weirded out or anything.”

You slip back into the living room, Heeseung hot on your tail with every step. “Let me make it up to you!”

You sigh, “Honestly, I don’t think you have it in you to do that right now.”

“I do! Just let me, please.”

“Heeseung, please drop it. I said it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, at least let me eat you out or something!”

“Heeseung!” Your eyes widen at his lewd, shameless offer, “Lower your voice! We’re in a fucking party surrounded by people!”

He smacks his teeth, “I don’t care. Please, YN.”

“You don’t have to make it up to me, you do not owe me anything.”

A beat of silence passes, then he says, “Then do it for me. Please.”

Even though Heeseung was the one literally begging to go down for you, there is a possibility of him having some sort of power over you; or maybe you just have a soft spot for him. Either way, you end up lying in his bed twenty minutes later, skirt bunched up around your waist as Heeseung’s wet tongue circles your clit, desperate attempt at coaxing a second orgasm from you.

He hadn’t even realized he’d grown hard again just from eating you out, and would likely end up cuuming in his boxers again just from doing this.

“Fuck,” he moans into your folds, pulling away slightly to pepper kisses on your inner thighs, “been waiting so fucking long for this.”

“Yeah?” You question, your grip on Heeseung’s hair tightening.

This earns a low groan from him as he nods against your skin, “You have no idea.”

Deciding he’s spent enough time away from your cunt, his lips make their way back onto you; his tongue falls flat against you, dragging your wetness upwards towards your swollen clit before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud.

Your body shivers, a beam of sweat dripping down your forehead as your second orgasm approaches. You’ve been eaten out before, countless times, but never like this. It was almost as if Heeseung was doing it for his own pleasure rather than your.

He teases your entrance with his finger before sliding two of them in with ease, curling them upwards and immediately hitting the spot you needed him the most.

“H-Heeseung…hold on…”

He hums, but he’s not really listening, too occupied with kitten-licking your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of you. The knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re gushing against his hands and mouth, Heeseung only takes this as a sign to continue lapping at your cunt. You have to literally grab him by the hair and drag him away from you.

He stares up at you, pupils blown wide and his chin coated in your juices, but he definitely looks happy. “What?” he asks.

You struggle to catch your breath, “You’re hard again?”

He looks down at his crotch momentarily before shrugging, “I guess.”

“You…don’t you wanna do something about that?”

His eyes flash down to your cunt for a split second, “It can wait.”

You scoff, “Well, I need a minute.”

Heeseung nods in agreement, impatiently drumming his fingers on his bed as you flop against his mattress. “Ready?” He asks once a minute has passed.

“No.”

He sighs, then sighs again, and again and again until you let out a frustrated groan. “Go get me a glass of fucking water.”

“Okay!” He shouts while standing, exiting the bedroom in a hurry. Maybe you really do treat him like a bitchboy, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

[fourtwentythings]

Built a fort to hang in by myself. Gonna smoke in it and play games. Happy Friday everyone!

[thesassymarquess]

I was going to suggest on the OP’s post how to *stop* the children playing in the trenches with the corpses, until reading through the reboots made me realize how funny it was. This one though, I felt the pain of, as I also had a 9 month campaign against giants birds that were slaughtering my peasants when I lived in a savage biome. The birds ruined trade caravans, slaughtered a dozen peasants and a few soldiers, and ultimately left me so demoralized I abandoned the world save until Adventure Mode came out, when I retired it. Apparently the military complex I made in my effort to combat the birds was then hijacked by the king when I left the fort, who turned it into a war machine of conquest and has since begun a war with 2 goblin kingdoms and 2 Dwarven kingdoms simultaneously. This fort was the ONLY REAL SETTLEMENT this faction had and its now a war machine decimating goblins and dwarves alike.

And I didn’t find this out until I started a new fort after a bit of screwing around in Adventure Mode, and went “Why is everyone at war with me?” And then discovered it was because my old fort launched about 8 “conquer and occupy” missions a year

I don't know what kids out there need to here this but

PLEASE STOP PLAYING MAKE BELIEVE IN MY TRENCHES! Goblins could appear at ANY MOMENT and every second you spend there is a second we're unprepared for their arrival!

[arelliann]

Wiggly Wednesday 🪱🧠

Tagged by the lovely @just-my-latest-hyperfixation <3 one of these days I’ll manage to actually post on a Wednesday, but until then

I am forever thinking about...

Golden retriever Steve.

Actual golden retriever Steve. Who Eddie finds curled up and shivering by the side of the road one night, and he's always had a weakness for an underdog. So he corrals the largest, fluffiest dog he's ever seen - it's probably not a wolf, dear god please say it's not a wolf - into the back of his van, blasts the heating, and disregards every traffic law on the way back to the trailer.

It takes a little bacon, and a lot of blankets, but the dog - who Eddie promptly names 'Ozzy' - gets comfortable pretty quickly. He's not a wolf either it turns out. Or if he is, he's the sappiest, friendliest, most well trained wolf in Indiana. In no time at all he's splayed across Eddie's chest, tail wagging enthusiastically as Eddie scratches between his ears.

Wayne gets home to find the two of them tucked under a blanket fort and just rolls his eyes, warning that this had better not be a repeat of 'that damned racoon incident'. So Eddie takes that as his blessing.

Ozzy spends the next week glued to Eddie's side.

He's an excellent guard dog. When a jock gets too big for his boots at a drug deal - and Eddie's about 30 seconds and one more snide comment away from a broken bone - Ozzy jumps forward, teeth bared and growling menacingly. He gets extra bacon and belly rubs that night.

He's also weirdly good at housework? Running off to get a towel every time he knocks over a drink with his overexcited tail. Which is often. And despite Wayne's insistence that it's just the weed talking, Eddie swears he caught Ozzy dusting one time.

There are downsides of course. Despite Eddie's constant complaints, Ozzy loves sports. Catch, fetch, chasing his own tail, and playing with the young kids at the trailer park. He even likes to settle onto the sofa in the afternoon and watch baseball games with Wayne.

Nevertheless, by the end of the week Eddie is spending every morning, evening, and night curled up in bed with his own personal space heater.

And then he wakes up one morning, and a very warm, very naked Steve Harrington is lying on top of him.

No pressure tags for @blipblot @sourw0lfs @sidekick-hero and @penny00dreadful

[eddies-ashtray]

The Taste of the Divine // Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Synopsis: You get high with Eddie for the first time.

WC: 3.2k

Category: Smut (18+ ONLY, minors do not interact).

Content: Weed (in the form of gummies), intox. kink if you squint, you and Eddie are both high, descriptions of what it feels like to be high, kissing, fem receiving oral, spit play (kinda?).

A/N: Hi! It's been a minute, so let's hope I'm not too rusty, but I hope you enjoy ;)

♡*♡*♡

“Woah,” you say.

“What?” Eddie asks, turning to look at you, his frizzy hair shifting over one shoulder with the motion.

“I can feel it behind my eyes,” you explain.  

Eddie grins at you lazily, his chest rumbling with a laugh as he says, “You are so stoned right now.”

An hour after you ate a couple blue raspberry THC gummies—effectively staining your tongue blue—you sit on Eddie’s bedroom floor, your backs pressed against the side of his bed. 

Only the lamp on the bedside table is switched on, blanketing the room in soft, yellow light. The gentle hue and the feel of his slightly rough duvet at your back give the room a sort of muted feel, making you feel like you’re inside a pillow fort.

“No, seriously,” you insist, softly tapping the back of your hand against his bicep. “It’s like, the back of my head feels…fuzzy?” you say it almost like it’s a question, trying to come up with the words. 

“Yeah?” Eddie hums, his tone gentle and understanding, but with a teasing lilt to it which makes your face burn up, sending tingles up your chest and neck that you’re not sure is a response to Eddie or the weed. 

“Yeah,” you agree with a nod, swallowing as you recognize the dryness in your throat. 

Eddie’s russet eyes flick down to your mouth for a moment, unconsciously flicking his tongue out to wet his pink pout. “Mouth dry?” 

You just nod, transfixed for just a moment by his tongue wetting his lips again. They shine in the lamplight, such a pretty shade of pink. 

You rub your thighs together, feeling like a cerulean wave has crested above your head, and you’re underwater, your whole body lax and calm as you float beneath the surface. 

It’s odd, the calmness in your body. The awareness of your limbs and how your face moves. And that wonderful fuzziness. It’s making everything softer, gentler. But there’s also the feeling of your soft thighs brushing together. The slight friction between your thighs makes the back of your head tingle, goosebumps rising on your arms and legs. 

It’s odd, but it’s good. New, but not unwelcome. 

When you meet Eddie’s eyes again, he feels closer. Or maybe he is closer? But you want him even closer. You’d beg him for closer, you think as his eyes impossibly darken, tracing their way down your features. 

You wonder what you look like to him. Are your eyes red? Do you look as spacey as you feel? Does he like it? 

Your limbs feel slightly heavy, your skin buzzing. Softness everywhere. 

“What else do you feel?” He whispers, his breath fanning across your mouth and chin. You crave the sight of his tongue to his lips. The touch of his tongue to yours. 

“I-”

God.

Your chest begins to rise and fall with quicker, shallow breaths. 

“Please.” It’s so quiet, you’re not sure if he’s heard you. But the look in his eyes is igniting a fire in your belly. 

He holds your gaze and you lose your breath.

Water surrounds you, dampening the sounds of the world. Softness envelopes you. An ache between your thighs, a craving unsatisfied. 

“Please, what?” Eddie laughs. 

When you don’t respond, only avert your gaze and rub your hands over your bare thighs (the summer heat has you in just a t-shirt and your underwear), you can sense understanding washing over him. 

“Are you feeling good?”

The question would be so normal. He’s just checking in with you, making sure you’re still okay. You trusted him enough to do this with him for the first time. You’d want to do this with no one else. 

But his tone suggests a double meaning.

Without your notice, there’s suddenly the feeling of his hand (rough from playing guitar) on your face. It feels so good you could go cross-eyed as you lean ever so slightly into his touch. 

“Do you feel it here?” 

You nod slightly, meeting his eyes again and forgetting yourself for a moment. 

His calloused fingers then trace a teasing path down your neck, past your pulse point, and his open palm lands just below your collarbone. His eyes follow the trail, and he can no doubt see and feel the quick rise and fall of your chest. 

The warmth of his hand seeps into your skin. 

“Here?” Eddie questions. 

The room falls away as you say, “Yeah.” But it comes out rough, a reminder of your dry mouth. 

Eddie hums, as if this is interesting to him, like someone has told him a fun fact he’s not sure that he cares about. His fingers continue their path down your chest, leaving a long trail of electricity in their wake. 

You survey his face as he watches his hand trail down, before ghosting his hand past your chest and stomach. 

Without even thinking about it, you gently split your thighs for him.

“Oh,” He says it like his heart ached the moment the plush of your thighs separated to accommodate his rough hand.

The inside of your thighs burn where his fingertips caress them, stoking the growing fire in your belly. You suck in a sharp breath at the feeling. 

You close your eyes, trying to catch your breath. Over his hands barely grazing your body. Over his dark eyes on you, his wavy hair creating a shade around you. 

“There,” you agree before he utters the question. Your heart is beating rhythmically against your rib cage, begging for his touch as your skin tingles, everything slower. 

Everything is so warm. You want his fingers everywhere. 

“Touch me,” you breathe, and Eddie’s eyes dart up from your thighs to watch your face. 

He sighs like he’s pained by your plea, melting into you. His forehead meets your temple.

Now it’s his turn to catch his breath. He just breathes, the soft air cooling your warm cheek. 

After a moment, Eddie pulls himself from you, catching your eyes again as he moves back, but remains close. The scent of his shampoo and him invade your senses. 

“Where?” He questions. “Here?” But it's so gentle, as his hand smoothes over the curve of your thigh, and drifts so slowly up, his pinky just meeting the edge of your panties. 

A whimper slips past your lips as if he’s dripped hot wax onto your thigh, instead of the gentle caress he actually gives you. 

He fingers the fabric with his thumb. “These are cute,” Eddie muses, then pinches your thigh between his thumb and forefinger, right at the top where you’re most tender and soft. 

Your stomach somersaults and you can’t help but bring your right hand up to rest atop the back of his, where it rests between your legs. 

The feeling of his warmth, the hum in your veins. The need for more. You shift his hand downwards, letting him graze you over the cotton with his palm lying flat against your clothed pussy.   

Eddie sucks in a breath, his middle finger trailing up your slit over your underwear. He tsks softly as he presses into the wet patch. 

Warmth blooms in your chest and you feel like your heart is going to leap right out of your ribcage. 

His hands. So rough, but gentle against your skin. Those eyes, with pupils blown out from the weed and his desire that’s rolling off him in waves. His tone. Teasing and begging simultaneously. Like he wants to be a little mean, but he also wants you too much to play games for too long.

“Eddie-” 

But that’s all it takes before he cuts you off, capturing your mouth in a desperate clash of teeth and tongues. 

His presence takes you over, flooding your senses. His lips taste faintly of a lingering cigarette and your strawberry chapstick he must have borrowed. 

Smiling into the kiss, Eddie pushes forward, leaning into you until you begin lowering to the floor. One of his hands is on the carpet behind you and the other is at your hip as he slowly guides you to the floor. 

When your back meets the carpet, Eddie’s hair shields you once again, his lips never once having left yours. 

Eddie is a welcome weight on top of you, pushing you deeper under that cerulean wave as you wrap your arms around his neck. He takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss by licking hotly into your mouth. His tongue grazes yours and you moan into his mouth, back arching off the floor. 

Your head is still fuzzy from the weed, and getting fuzzier.

Groaning in displeasure when he lifts himself away from your mouth, you slide your hands out from around his neck. Hand trailing down his chest, you grab the end of his necklace and pull him back down to your mouth. 

The groan that vibrates in his chest and feeds the fire in your belly makes you ache between your thighs. Losing yourself in the way your mouths move together, his bottom lip slotted between your top one, you both become increasingly sloppy. 

It feels so good to kiss him like this, completely invading each other’s space. He gets so into it, like he could do just this forever and he’d be happy—elated. 

When Eddie pulls away again, he flicks your top lip with the tip of his tongue and you can feel yourself throb. He breathes heavily, fair cheeks stained pink, and his hair a little more messy than it was before. His frizz; a halo. 

But before you can pull him back down again, he plants a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek. He’s on a mission, leaving kiss after sloppy kiss down your neck and chest.  

Enjoying the sensation of his lips on your skin, you loosen your hold on him, allowing him free range as your hands coast down his back. 

When he’s finally eye level with your tits, he diverges to the left one, flicking your nipple over your thin tank top with his wet tongue. You whine and thread your fingers through his hair, tug at his roots. Eddie grunts in response, but moves on quickly, pulling the fabric of your top loosely up your body so he can kiss the skin of your sternum and belly. 

Finally, you glance down at him, his dark eyes flickering to yours as he plants a final kiss to the dainty bow at the center of your panties.

Your hips flex beneath his hold as he squeezes your flesh before parting your thighs. The pressure of his calloused fingertips digging into your skin is delicious. You close your eyes, reveling in the sensation.

You can feel him move between your thighs, eliciting the soft sound of his body brushing against the carpet. 

“My mouth is so dry,” Eddie whispers, his breath ghosting against the soaked fabric. “And you’re so wet, angel.” 

You throw an elbow over your face, shielding your eyes, not out of embarrassment, but because you are so overwhelmed by him. 

It doesn’t help when his lips press against your panties, right where your clit is, and your legs twitch in surprise. All you can do is gasp, enjoying his teasing.  

Then there’s the feel of his hands coasting up and down your thighs. Your skin heats as you bite your lip, heart rate quickening.

Eddie places another sweet kiss to your pussy over the cotton, this one lower, drawing a whine out of you as you wiggle your hips impatiently. He teases his tongue against the wet patch and your hips buck involuntarily. You can feel him smirk against the skin of your thigh and you huff. 

He places one final quick kiss to your mound, before asking: “Can I take these off, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, Eddie,” is all you can manage, and it comes out strangled and muffled beneath your arm. 

But it's enough for him to tear your panties down your legs, and you kick them off as he dives back in, his arms encircling your thighs once you’ve got your feet planted on the floor by his shoulders. 

“Fuck, look at you…My pretty, sweet thing.” 

You cover your face with your hands, sweet humiliation warming your skin. 

You feel so exposed like this, open for him. It makes your heart race. But the weed clouding your brain means you’re not as self-conscious as you might have been otherwise. Not about the coarse hair between your legs or how wet you are despite how little he’s really touched you. 

Slowly, Eddie pulls your hands away from your face, and you rest them on your belly. 

The intensity of his gaze makes your heart skip a beat. “Watch.”

He’s gentle at first, kissing the backs of your thighs, his eyes on yours. 

But as he trails his kisses closer and closer to your center, he nips at your inner thigh, causing you to whimper pathetically. 

And finally—finally—Eddie licks a thick stripe up your weeping cunt, and closes his eyes, losing himself in your taste. 

“Fuck!” you cry out as his mouth devours you, his tongue lapping at your wetness as he licks you from your leaking hole to your clit. 

Eddie pulls you impossibly closer, his grip tightening on your thighs, burying himself between your legs. He’s starved for it and your legs are already shaking. You’re so sensitive, and his tongue feels so warm, and it all feels just a little more. Just a little better. 

Tears prickle in your eyes at the sensations as you trail your hands down your belly and bury your hands deep in his hair. You groan as his nose bumps your clit. 

“More,” you beg, back arching just slightly off the floor.

Suddenly, his fingers join his tongue and he’s lapping at your hole enthusiastically while his thumb comes up to stroke your clit. Rubbing soft circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves, you practically squeal at the overwhelming feelings as your thighs clamp around his head. 

For minutes, Eddie never comes up for air. His tongue feels like heaven as it sheathes inside of you, pumping the wet muscle inside of your warmth. His ringed fingers are like a blessing as they toy with your pussy. 

He hums against your cunt, so content to be between your thighs.

The pleasure and the weed make everything hazy as you babble, “Feels so good. So good, Eddie…Please.”

Pulling back for just a moment, he breathes hard, chest rising and falling rapidly as he thumbs at your clit and you moan, rolling your head to the side as you catch his eyes. But they aren’t on you. They’re on your pussy and your face warms as he stares, mesmerized. 

Eddie’s hand comes to rest on your mound as he thumbs at your clit. Dimples carve into his cheeks as he smiles lazily when you twitch. “So messy for me.” 

You’re pouting down at him, out of breath when he spits thickly onto your already soaked cunt, the coolness of his saliva on your warm skin making your hips stutter and causing a gasp to slip past your lips. 

It’s too much and you have to look away again, dropping your head back and shutting your eyes. Just feeling. 

“Mmh,” Eddie hums before you feel him spreading his spit around your pussy with his thumb. 

“Please-” You whine, but it morphs into a moan as he quickly dives back in, licking and sucking, completely brazen in his love for your taste. But you’re just as brazen, hips rolling into his mouth, practically riding his face. Eddie takes it in stride, reaching up underneath your shirt with his only free hand to pinch your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your back arches off the carpet and you gasp sharply. 

He kneads at your breast as his tongue and fingers become sloppy between your legs. Eddie shakes his head back and forth rapidly, no doubt staining his cheeks and chin with your wetness. All you can do is cry out, and moan, and babble on about how good he feels. 

Your orgasm builds, that delicious burning sensation swirling and growing in your belly. “Eddie. Eddie! Gonna-”

But you can’t even get the words out as he groans, the vibration sending shivers up your spine, only pushing you closer to the edge. 

Without pulling away fully, Eddie mutters roughly against your pussy, “Say it again.” 

It takes you a moment to process his words. And when you do you don’t fully understand. Until you do. 

Eddie is such a giver. He never tires of burying his face between your thighs and eating you out until you’re shaking in his arms, until you’re crying from the overstimulation as he goes in for seconds. 

But he likes receiving praise for it too. Likes to hear how good he’s making you feel. Likes to hear his name on your tongue. At this point it’s the only word you can remember anyway. 

“Eddie! Please, Eddie! Eddie,” You say his name like a prayer. 

He becomes an animal, going wild at the sound of his name leaving your lips. 

You’re so desperate to cum as you grind into his mouth, Eddie grunting, squeezing your breast in his hand, his other still working over your clit. You remove a hand from where it's tangled in his hair and cover the hand that kneads over your chest, back arching. 

When he begins the lethal combination of plunging his middle and ring finger into your tight, wet heat as he practically makes out with your pussy, you’re at your tipping point. The feeling of his lips kissing your clit, then his tongue darting out to have a proper taste as he sucks it into his mouth makes your brows furrow as you moan for him. 

One final thrust of his fingers inside of you and one last mean nip at your clit has your orgasm crashing over you, and your body convulses. Eddie continues to lick and fuck you with his tongue and fingers as you ride it out, cursing and moaning as you do. The feeling spreads everywhere, from your cunt, to your belly, to your chest, all the way down to your toes. 

Heat spreads beneath your skin as you slowly come down, chest heaving with shallow breaths. 

Eddie pulls away and you mewl when he playfully slaps the top of your cunt, making your clit flutter in sensitivity. 

Groaning lowly, Eddie climbs on top of you and you finally open your eyes. 

Your view is wonderful. His waves shield you from the lamplight, his mouth and cheeks glisten slightly as he grins down at you, and pieces of his fringe stick to his forehead which is covered in a light layer of sweat. 

Smiling languidly up at him, you reach up and brush his hair back from his face, the fire in your belly briefly heating up again at the feel of his hard cock nudging against your bare thigh. 

“Feel good?” 

Licking your lips, you nod, your body limp and tired. 

“Good,” Eddie whispers, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your mouth. You can still taste yourself on his tongue. 

He strokes your face lovingly with the back of his clean hand. “Still feeling floaty?” 

“Mhm,” you respond, completely blissed out.

He hums thoughtfully, eyes flickering down to your lips for a moment before meeting your eyes again, a mischievous glint sparkling in his.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He whispers cheekily and you nod. 

Eddie leans down so his mouth is level with your right ear. “I wanna go again.” 

***

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, please reblog!

<3

[lordprettyflackotara]

noise || ticci toby x maid!reader (𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓵𝔂pasta au)

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. tw: toby & reader are both switches, toby’s a lil freaky fuck, face fucking, biting, choking, marking, squirting, humiliation fr

If you had been asked what you thought creeps did for fun, you would’ve had a few guesses. Murdering sprees, torture, potential cannibalism. What you would’ve not guessed was partying.

It was a surprise to you that the creeps did in fact like to party, with outside mansion residents as well. Immortal killers of all shapes and sizes were making their way into the mansion, eyeing you like you were candy. Slenderman had made it very clear you were off limits as the mansions official maid, but that didn’t stop the stares or awkward conversations you were forced into. You realized many of them hadn’t interacted with a regular human in so long they forgot social manners. The realization hit you when Laughing Jack asked if you wanted a piece of his lollipop.

Nevertheless you were still having fun, despite cleaning up after everyone constantly. The music was loud and obnoxious, the weed smell burning your nostrils so much you were sure your nose hairs were fried. Thankfully Slender opted to let you wear a more appropriate attire, fearful the guest would go feral at the sight of a helpless human girl with her ass out. A pencil skirt and button up weren’t your forte, but damn did it beat the flimsy halloween costume you wore everyday. You threw some empty red solo cups in a trash bag, many of the creeps in a circle on the floor.

“Hey Y/n! Come spin this shit!”

You looked over in surprise, Jeff’s rough voice one you’d recognize anywhere. It looked like an old fashioned game of spin the bottle. “Uh i’m not sure-” You started to protest, Ben appearing behind you. You jumped in surprise as he grabbed your shoulders, floating behind you shamelessly. “Dont be shy. Besides, it’s seven minutes in heaven, you’ll get some privacy,” He cooed mockingly, pushing you towards the circle. Uncertainly you placed one foot in front of the other, peer pressure obligating you to act cool with this. “Ben’s right. Besides, you don’t exactly have much of a choice maid,” Jeff snickered, taking a swig of his beer bottle.

Begrudgingly you lowered yourself onto your knees, joining the circle. You sat in between Eyeless Jack and Jane the killer, both of whom looked at you like you were a fresh pile of meat. Unsurely you grabbed the bottle in the middle of the circle, spinning it. Glancing around you were surprised to see Masky and Hoodie partaking in the silly game, the two nearly mirroring each other with the way they smoked their cigarettes. Your gaze then landed on the bottle, silently praying you’d get someone from the mansion, not a guest. Your prayers seemed to be answered once the other end of the bottle landed on Toby.

Ticci Toby, a scrawny unhinged killer who twitched everytime he looked at you. He seemed to be the closest to your age, despite being the youngest mansion resident besides maybe Ben. It was hard to tell how old anyone was, the creeps not aging after age twenty five. Jeff chuckled darkly at the match, guiding you both to follow him. “Alright lovebirds, into the closet you go!” He sang cheerfully. Toby stepped inside first, red led lights decorating the top of the closet. You nervously trailed behind him, Jeff grinning mischievously as he started a timer. “Oh and Toby make sure she comes out alive, boss will be pretty mad if she doesn’t. Have fun!” Jeff advised, before slamming and locking the closet door. Although it was dim inside of the closet, it wasn’t hard to see Toby was visibly nervous.

“We d-don’t have to d-d-do anything. Jeff’s just an asshole,” Toby sputtered. His neck twitched after he spoke, his hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. You both leaned on opposite sides of the closet, only a couple of feet dividing you from touching. You cleared your throat, boldly taking a step forward. It had been a stressful week, your stress pent up and taking a toll on your body. “Have you ever done anything with a girl before?” You asked. Toby’s eyes widened at your question, pushing his goggles further back on his head. “Yes i-it’s just been a long t-t-time,” He answered. You tilted your head to the side curiously, the young brunette boy reluctant to elaborate. “My ex is C-Clockwork,” He explained. For once he was grateful at the red lights in the closet, they concealed the blush that dashed across his cheeks.

You knew who Clockwork was, her presence not as frequent as you would’ve liked. It was easier being around the female mansion residents rather than the males. “Oh I see,” You mused. You grabbed the collar of his hoodie, attempting to straighten it out. “I’d l-l-love to make her jealous,” Toby admitted. A devious grin spread across your lips, your hands sliding down his chest. “Why don’t we do that then?” You asked. You grabbed handfuls of his hoodie, dragging him over to you. Your lips met his, his kisses sloppy and uncoordinated. He grabbed your waist harshly, causing you to groan in his mouth. His lips were eager and desperate, his cock quickly hardening in his pants. “M-move your h-h-hair,” Toby ordered softly. You strayed away from his lips, brushing your hair behind your neck. His lips were quick to assault your neck, sucking harshly at the sensitive skin. You couldn’t control the whimpers that left your lips, his tongue lapping at the hickies he was sucking.

You let out a gasp as his teeth sank into your skin, causing you to whine under him. He pressed you flat against the wall, your back flat against the wood. “Y-you t-t-think i’m going to l-l-let you leave unmarked? Boy are you d-dumb,” Toby chuckled darkly, his hands now slithering to the mounds of your ass. He roughly grabbed the flesh, his teeth sinking into your neck once more. The pain was almost nauseating, thin beads of blood forming around the bite mark. The brunette was quick to lap at the wound, relishing in the taste of your metallic blood. Once he released his hold you pushed him back, his back crashing into the opposite wall. You assertively grabbed his throat, tilting his neck to the side. As harshly as you could you sucked at his skin, the boy beneath you having a hard time restraining his cock in his jeans. You sucked and lapped at his neck, hickies and bruises forming over his greyish skin.

“Y-you can t-t-try to hurt-t me all you want. I don’t feel pain,” Toby laughed. You pulled back from his neck, eyes wide. He found the fear in your blown pupils arousing, his hand finding your cheek. “We d-d-don’t have a lot of time, s-stay still for me,” He commanded. You watched as he undid his belt, pulling down his pants and boxers in one shift motion. You tried to follow his order, his slender hands grabbing you and flipping you upside down. You gasped as he held your waist, your body weight as light as a feather to him. You felt the blood rushing to your head, his hard cock dripping precum dead center in front of your face. “G-get to sucking i-i-if you want to cum,” Toby ordered. Your hair hung in the air underneath you, your body tense as he held you upside down. You felt him shove your pencil skirt ‘down’ and your panties to the side, his bandaged fingers playing with your slick.

“So f-fuckin wet. F-filthy fuck,” Toby commented, bringing his mouth to your clit. You groaned as you stroked his cock, bringing it to your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down on his cock, licking the underside of his shaft as he wrapped his lips around your clit. Your nails dug into his thighs for support, the brunette holding you blissfully unaware of how hard you were truly holding onto him. You could feel yourself becoming dizzy as you sucked his cock, Toby’s fingers dipping into your entrance. You whined around his shaft, the vibrations around his length only making him harder. He released your clit with a pop, his fingers now abusing your g spot. “F-fuckin whore. D-don’t pass out o-o-on me,” Toby barked. Your eyes were screwed shut as you shoved yourself further down his length, his tip brushing against the back of your throat.

His fingers were merciless, his tongue lapping at your folds like a starved man. You briefly disconnected yourself from his cock, a string of saliva still connecting you to his tip.

“Two minutes left!”

Jeff’s mocking voice notified you both outside of the closet door. Toby frowned, flipping you over and forcing you onto your knees. You were dizzy and disoriented as he shoved his cock into your mouth. You gagged as he began to fuck your throat, determined to cum. “C-come on s-slut. The sooner y-y-you make me cum the sooner I m-m-make you squirt,” Toby barked. You whole heartedly sucked his cock, your jaw going slack as he abused your throat. You ignored your desperation for oxygen as well as the tears streaming down your face, determined to make Toby cum. His fingers were roughly lodged in your hair, yanking at it and forcing you to take all of him. “F-fucking s-s-shit,” Toby grunted. He held you down to the base of his cock, your nose buried in his bush as he came down your throat. You struggled to swallow his seed, his warm cum spilling down your throat.

“Swallow it fucking a-all or I swear I-I-I make you lick it off of the ground,” Toby growled. You managed to blink your eyes open, through the tears looking up at the brunette with glassy eyes. You swallowed every drop of cum he could produce, Toby only pulling out when he felt satisfied. He grabbed you by your throat, fingers wrapped tightly around your flesh. He shoved you against the closest wall, his hand digging up your skirt. You whimpered as he abruptly shoved two fingers inside of you, using his thumb to circle your clit. He quickly curled them, abusing your g spot as quickly as he pleased. “Y-you’re a s-s-sick fuck. Enjoying killers u-using you like a s-s-sex doll,” Toby growled. His eyes were blown with lust, but sparkled with something much more sinister. His fingers clamped over your throat tighter, restricting your airway. “G-gonna talk to b-b-boss about making a g-g-glory hole just for you. Since-e that’s all you’re good for,” He purred.

It sickened you just how much his words sent waves of pleasure down to your core. You grabbed his wrist, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as the cord inside of your stomach tightened. “B-bet you’ve never squirted b-b-before, huh?” Toby asked mockingly, tilting his head to the side. You shook your head no, his circles around your clit speeding up dangerously quickly. “Well you’re going to for me. N-now fucking cum,” Toby growled. You felt an unfamiliar feeling wash over you, one you hadn’t felt before. You gripped his wrist as you squirted, your juices soaking the carpet below as well as your skirt. You blushed as your vision went hazy, your head spinning. You hardly felt like you could stand, Toby holding you upright. Through spotty vision you watched the brunette suck his fingers, cleaning off your juices.

“You look like s-shit. Take this,” He said, handing you his hoodie. It smelled like dirt and too much cologne, but you weakly shoved it on. You pulled down your wet skirt, trying to look semi decent. Toby fixed his pants and boxers, relooping his belt. Just in time too, Jeff then opening the closet door. Ooo’s and awe’s spread across the room, your face as red as it could get. Jeff patted Toby on the back, congratulating him. You nervously left the circle, resuming your task of collecting trash. You felt a pair of eyes burning holes into the back of your head, causing you to look behind you. The infamous Eyeless Jack was shamelessly staring at you, wondering if he could make you make more noise than Toby could.

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 16: The One About That Time I Shot an Arrow into the Air

“…It fell to earth, I knew not where; for so swiftly it flew, the sight; could not follow it in its flight.”

Archery has always been one of my fortes in life. I have absolutely no idea why, but I’m strangely quite good at it. My father, of course, attributes it to my ancestors; something passed down to me in my genes. So, I’m not sure that any arrow I shot into the air wouldn’t naturally find itself in the direction of its intended target. Today, that target would almost certainly be in the jugular of a Cerberus-like creature. Ah, yes, that mythical hellhound with three heads that guards the entrance to the Underworld. Not only does it dictate who can enter the realm of Hades, but also who can leave. And I’m not fond of creatures that would rather devour you alive than let you leave of your own freewill. Plus, could you imagine having three heads with three different personalities? Ugh, that would get confusing quickly. And, even worse, could you imagine all the in-fighting? I mean, an arrow to the throat – if it didn’t dismantle the beast – would almost certainly silence it. Luckily, we don’t have any three-headed dogs in this fandom…

Where am I going with this? Well – besides down a long and winding path that draws attention to the fact I enjoy poetry and archery – actually, I chose today’s poem for a specific purpose. If you haven’t figured it out from my previous cracks about the Kraken, I also like Greek mythology. In fact, learning about Greek mythology at around the age of 11 – yes, that defiant age where we’re no longer interested in Barbie (not that I was ever interested in Barbie) but we’re also not cool enough to be considered teenagers – was the first time I remember finding myself “thinking outside of the box.” And by that, I mean asking the question that I probably should not have said out loud: “If Zeus is a myth, does that mean God is fake, too?” That went down like a lead balloon (and, I hope, no one takes offense to reading that now; it is not meant with any disrespect). My mother was, of course, telephoned by the school and, when I returned home, she greeted me with (something along the lines of) a simple: “Did they answer your question? No? Then I suggest you find it for yourself.”

We all have our own truth, don’t we? Even in this fandom, we are each tasked with choosing our own path. Weeding out facts from speculation and speculation from rumor. Choosing what we want to believe over what is being pushed on us. Overcoming our willingness to follow blindly versus our refusal to be backed into corner. I suppose that’s why I’ve always liked Greek mythology (and, perhaps, storytelling in general) – because it helps us navigate life’s challenges by better understanding human nature. It’s also one of the reasons why my favorite story has always been the trials and tribulations of Eros and Psyche.

Ah-ha! See, I told you I had a purpose for bringing up those damn arrows!

Yes, Eros was the Greek equivalent of the Roman Cupid; that weird little dude who fired love arrows like a bouquet of flowers at a wedding. But Eros wasn’t some creepy little cherub in a cloth diaper; he was the devastatingly handsome God of Love. And he fell in love with the equally beautiful human Psyche. That part about her being human, however,managed to get Psyche some major side-eye from Eros’s mother, Aphrodite. In retaliation for humans worshiping Psyche’s beauty over her own, Aphrodite sent Eros down to earth to pierce Psyche with one of his love arrows so she would fall madly in love with a hideous monster (unfortunately for the Cerberus, it wasn’t them). But Eros defied his mother and, unbeknownst to Aphrodite, kept Psyche for himself hidden away in a castle. There, Psyche lived – mostly happily – with Eros visiting her every night. Eros promised Psyche she could live there indefinitely so long as she never looked upon his face (hence why he only visited her in darkness). But humans have this uncanny knack for being curious and, of course, Psyche peeked. Well, fuck! Haha, I won’t ruin the rest of the story for you except to say, yes, Eros was royally peeved at Psyche’s betrayal, fled their home, and sought refuge with his bitchy mother (because, of course, he did). Devastated, Psyche went clambering up to her pseudo-mother-in-law’s shrine to beg for forgiveness and Aphrodite, being a bit of a bitchy goddess, gave Psyche a series of impossible tasks to complete to prove her worthiness. Amazingly Psyche did in fact complete each of these four tasks but only because she managed to get a little help from some fantastical friends. Well, except for that final task for which Psyche was warned – don’t look in the fucking box. Damn humans.

Like all stories passed down from generation to generation, there are multiple versions of this myth, particularly when it comes to who helped Psyche complete her four tasks. Sometimes it’s one god(dess), other times it’s multiple; sometimes it’s earth’s creatures (the ants, the plants, and the flying things). But my favorite version is the one where Eros was the one pulling those invisible strings – or, at the very least, keeping an eye on Psyche from the shadows – because no matter how angry he was with her, Eros still loved Psyche and wanted to protect her.

Why do I bring this story up? Well, for starters, if you didn’t notice (because you were too focused on carriages and mirrors), Bridgerton Season 3 made quite a few parallels between Colin and Penelope and Eros and Psyche, even referring to the latter by name at the end of the fourth episode. The show also brushed on the importance of trust, the consequences of betrayal, and the idea that love can conquer all. Funny thing is I never thought Colin to be much of an Eros; he made a better Psyche, in my opinion. I mean, he was the one to peek into Penelope’s secret life!

But Colin’s real-life counterpart, Luke, makes a rather entertaining Eros.

On December 16, when Luke reposted to his Instagram stories a link to Nicola’s “Part 1” of her 2024 Year, the fandom went wild. And I’m not talking about just the Lukolas going insane with excitement; the Jakolas were having a field day, too – but not in a good way. The unease they’d almost certainly felt with those coordinated airplane and “Polin” posts from October returned with a vengeance when Luke resurfaced in support of Nicola – the woman for whom he consistently comes out hiding. I realized then that the one person who could simultaneously make the Lukolas’ hearts flutter and the Adjacents’ blood boil was Luke (i.e., our Eros could make Psyche rejoice while making Aphrodite lash out in anger).

If you really think about it, Luke has pulled us out of the black waters of the River Styx multiple times, making him the perfect Eros to our Psyche. Yes, our Psyche. The fandom is absolutely the Psyche of this story. After all, the fandom was the one who betrayed Luke with our collective reaction to Papsmear (but, in the fandom’s defense, that was a shitty fucking day). And, of course, that wench Aphrodite is collectively all the side story bullshit, from the Adjacent narratives to rag-mags sticking their ever-growing noses into places they don't belong.

As we finish out the year, I thought it would be fun to give Luke some credit where credit is due. In other words, I thought I’d highlight four times Luke “Eros-ed” (i.e., “rescued”) us from some mucky ass shit. This is not every moment Luke came out of hiding to do something wonderful; these are simply my top four moments where I believe Luke single-handedly resuscitated the fandom. You’re welcome to share your best Luke moments in the comments.

No. 1 - That Post-Papsmear Thing That Everyone Ignored:

Fuck, yes.

I am starting with the most overlooked event in the Lukola-verse – Luke’s post-Papsmear Cressida story. This is the taproot that keeps my faith in Lukola from falling over during a storm – Luke taking one for Team Lukola by promoting Season 3 using the scene from Ep. 6 where Cressida entered the Mondrich Ball and Colin pulled Penelope aside and told her he wouldn’t let Cressida ruin their evening. Yeah, yeah, Luke totally missed the target with that post but – again, in the fandom’s defense – everyone was still reeling from the sudden-but-not-so-sudden materialization of Antonia at the London premiere. In hindsight, though, you know you want to give him an “atta boy” for basically throwing shade at the Lutonia narrative while using a massive social media platform to do so. It was jaw-dropping, brilliant, and ballsy as fuck.

If you’re totally lost about how entertaining this Cressida story was, go read Entry 1 to be my blog. But, seriously, how have you not read it already?

No. 2 – Delivering the Cake:

Alright, fast forward three months (yes, three goddamn months!) to September 7 when Luke posted pictures from his stay at the Puente Romano resort.

No big deal, right?

Wrong!

It was a big fucking deal because, for starters, Antonia creeped in and posted random pictures of herself at roughly the same time Luke posted his resort pictures. And, of course, Luke had to like Antonia’s Instagram post. To make matters worse (gasp!) Luke’s had palm trees in his pictures which were oh, so reminiscent (but, not really) of palm trees posted by Antonia the previous day to her Instagram stories. Oh my God! And, then the real kicker? Luke’s slide deck included him eating a picture of himself from the London premiere sans Nicola! The horror! I mean, what probably started out as a cute post by Luke turned into a full-on Lukola heart attack within 30 minutes or less!

But then Luke pulled out a defibrillator and revived the fandom. Almost immediately.

After presumably hearing the cries from the Lukola fandom that he’d cut Nicola from the London premiere image, Luke demonstrated through his Instagram stories that (a) he was eating part of a cake (he was even darling enough to put the cake emoji with a smiley face), and (b) that the cake never had Nicola’s image on it to begin with (meaning, he didn’t remove her from it). Thank you for that clarification, Luke. Seriously, the fandom appreciated it.

After they recovered from their near-death experience, the Lukolas finally took the time to look at the images Luke posted. A not-so-random chaise lounge; a random white shirt; a restaurant called El Pimpi (which is a word used for the people who delivered messages to a ship’s crew and passengers); Luke throwing up the peace sign with his now infamous digits in – what appeared to be – the reflection of a glass table; and a reference to cake. It was Lukola- and/or Polin-coded shit. And, to make it just a smidge better, there was no visible reference to Antonia anywhere.

And, yes, I will cut in here to acknowledge that Antonia would, on October 25, include a lone picture of a balcony which was identical to the one Luke posted in his – what I like to call – “clarification stories” from September 7. Do I care about Antonia’s balcony? Not in the least. Could she have been at the resort? Sure. In fact, I’ve always found the idea of Antonia being present quite comical since Luke made it fairly obvious he omitted something (ahem, someone) from his Instagram post and instead filled it with random shit that seemed Lukola- and/or Polin-coded. Plus, if you want me to be perfectly honest, “insinuation” posts from Antonia stopped doing it for me months ago.

Back to what I saying… We must give Luke a round of applause for placating an entire fandom with something as simple as a cake emoji. Bravo, bravo!

No. 3 – Shutting Down the Mean Girls:

We closed out September with Antonia riling up the fandom by posting Instagram story after Instagram story, none of which were worth a second glance from a Lukola except for the “phone screen” one (see “Entry 7: The One Where the Queen Asked, ‘Did That Go the Way You Thought It Was Gonna Go?’” for reference). Oh, wait, there is another story – just for my own amusement – on October 1, Antonia reshared a story where she was labeled “Aphroditi.” Rather convenient for my story today, isn't it? Any ways, the Lukolas were a bit high-strung by October 2 when Nicola announced via Instagram that she had been named as part of the Time 100. Luke liked the post – but apparently to the haters on X he didn’t do it motherfucking fast enough. These weird-ass people do actually exist – the ones that genuinely believe Instagram likes (and the speed thereof) equate to true love.

Any ways, Luke apparently decided he was having none of that bullshit and stepped in on October 3 with his Polin-themed “Mean Girls” story. It was a throwback to a conversation he and Nicola had had in, I believe, 2022 on, haha, X.

“On October 3rd, he asked me what day it was.”

“It’s October 3rd.”

Luke captioned the story, “Xx.”

Not only did the fandom rejoice that Luke had returned to post something after nearly a month away, but the post included a throwback to Nicola, and it came on the heels of Halley Brisker’s now legendary “Nicola lately” post. Yeah, the one with Luke in the background (seriously, convince me it was someone else). Luke’s story also seemed to be one hell of a clapback to a rabid pack animal on X who faulted Luke for not leaving a comment on Nicola’s Time 100 post.

“Xx.”

No. 4 – The Littlest Things:

I debated over choosing Luke’s People magazine interview for the fourth moment, but that interview – although it made the fandom incredibly happy – didn’t pull our heads out of our own asses. So, I decided instead to go with the little things Luke has done over the past few months, namely, joining in on the Like Wars but in his own oh, so subtle way.

Let’s start with Antonia’s September 21 post of – honestly, who the hell cares? She posted and we knew Luke’s obligatory like was coming. It just took 10 ½ hours for Luke to get to it and it was only given after Nicola posted to her Instagram stories pictures from a concert she had attended. Was the fandom a bit deflated Luke liked Antonia’s post? Of course! But it was also fun to see the like come hours after Luke had already been online and on the heels of Nicola popping up online.

On October 11, we had a similar event happen. Antonia posted to her grid and Luke seemingly ignored it for roughly five hours. But, while Luke was ignoring her post, Antonia was going hard at it with Instagram stories and TikTok videos (Nicola, for her part, seemed to be playing her own game on social media during this time). Luke finally liked Antonia’s post and Antonia went silent thereafter. Then, on October 12, Luke officially made it back from his October 4 “Brb” moment and posted “Somewhere in Mayfair” to his Instagram stories. Let the fandom rejoice!

But I’m not stopping there. Let’s not forget about Luke and Nicola’s coordinated “Polin” pictures on October 21 or that, while Antonia was “rolling pasta” on November 17, Luke made it a point to go back and like Nicola’s Dr. Who post from November 15. On December 6, when Luke coughed up a like to Antonia’s grid post, he also handed a like out to Nicola at the same time (and a few others). Do you see a pattern starting to form?

Honestly, I believe Luke is owed a standing ovation for the way he has taken control of his own narrative and managed to deflect from the so-called “importance” of these bullshit Instagram likes. Although Nicola has historically attempted to distract the fandom from Antonia, in my opinion, it was always Luke’s responsibility to diminish the importance of Antonia’s role in his story. And, for the past several months, he has been doing just that – in the quietest way possible.

I’ve decided Luke is a bit like a shadow. Inconspicuous – sometimes even completely invisible – but when the light hits just right, it’s impossible to ignore his immense presence.

When Luke posts, or when he coyly plays around with the Instagram likes – even when he likes Nicola’s posts – it somehow resonates differently with the fandom. Nicola could post her year-end stuff and the fandom would be, like, “Oh, that’s cool.” But, when Luke reshares her post to his stories? “Holy fuck, that’s awesome!” It's a "different energy on set." Somewhere in the middle of all the bullshit that goes on within the fandom, Luke found his own truth. The “Bad Guy” who was “on a break” during Hot Boy Summer somehow became our hero; the shadowy figure that pulls us out of the water and sets our heads back on straight. Over and over again. It's been so subtle, we've barely even noticed.

I’m going to end this entry with the Longfellow poem I quoted at the beginning, mainly because I like it, but also because it’s about something that cannot be easily seen once released into the world but, if found, can have an everlasting effect on us.

“I shot an arrow into the air; it fell to earth, I knew not where; for so swiftly it flew, the sight; could not follow it in its flight;

“I breathed a song into the air, it fell to earth, I knew not where; for who has sight so keen and strong, that it can follow the flight of song?

“Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke; and the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend.”

P.S. In the story, Psyche is rescued by Eros (hurray!) and is made the Goddess of the Soul.

[hairyjocktf]

New Recruit

Luke was at a low point in his life. He’d graduated high school but wasn’t smart enough to get into college. He had tried working some retail jobs around but he never had the work ethic to last long in those. He had similar problems in other gigs. It had been months of him bumming around and his parents had finally had enough, he was officially out of their house. With few options left, he was desperate. While walking down the street one day he saw an ad for the military, boasting stable careers and plenty of benefits. He’d played a couple seasons of sports in school and felt like he might be able to at least pass the initial evaluation, and out of near desperation he decided to try and enlist.

He made his way to the army office nearby that had been listed in the ad, and to his surprise there was no trouble. They did a quick physical evaluation and he was good to go, ready to sign up for boot camp. Luke was nervous; there was no coming back from this point. He thought about it for a couple minutes while being stared down by the recruiter, realizing he really couldn’t think of a better option. And so he signed the contract, unsure of what was to come. 

Two weeks later he was on a bus out to the base to start his boot camp. Luke didn’t know what to expect; he’d heard numerous stories about how brutal this training would be to weed out people. The bus was filled with the strangest mix of people he’d ever seen. Some guys looked like they’d been using steroids since they were 12, some looked like they belonged in an accounting department, and some he just couldn't pin down. Regardless of who surrounded him, Luke felt out of place, and he was only growing more nervous as the bus sped through the dense woods. After what felt like hours they finally cleared the trees and he saw the huge fences that would enclose the next few months of his life.

The buses pulled into a large dirt clearing at the center of the base where they forced everybody out. A huge and built man addressed the new recruits with his booming voice.

“Privates! Welcome to Fort Eagleton!” he shouted above the noise of disembarking men. “I am Drill Sergeant Thornton, and I’ll be in charge of whipping you lot into shape!”

Luke gulped, it looked like those rumors had been true. He was in for a world of hurt.

“You’ll be under my watch and command for the next ten weeks, learning what it takes to be a soldier. First, I want to see what I’m working with. Privates! See those chalk markings on the ground? Space yourselves on them for inspection!” 

His loud voice echoed across the clearing. The men all scrambled to stand in position, each on a chalk marking that were spaced four feet apart in a grid. Luke found an open one unfortunately near the front of the pack. He glanced nervously around at the others. Some were standing at the ready like they had been born for this, but the rest also looked around with worried looks on their faces. Their attention was brought back to the front by the thundering voice of the sergeant. 

“Listen up, privates! Here with me I have Corporal Evans, a prime example of what you should all strive to become in the next ten weeks!” The sergeant gestured to a tall and strong looking man next to him. Evans was at attention in full uniform, but Luke could tell the man was absolutely jacked underneath. He could see how the coat was straining against his huge, broad shoulders.

“He is the epitome of a soldier, and what all men should model themselves after,” the sergeant continued. “I will make a real man out of each of you! That is my promise as your Drill Sergeant. However, some of you may take to that easier than others.” He began walking through the rows of men in plainclothes, observing each of them with scrutiny. Luke’s eyes went wide as the sergeant stopped directly in front of him.

“You, boy. What’s your name?” The sergeant did not quiet his voice even when right next to him. 

“Luke,” he said shakily, “Luke Peterson.”

“Private Peterson, you may have passed the exam to get here, but I hold doubts that you are up to the challenge that is basic training,” the sergeant said while making intense eye contact. “Do you think you have what it takes to become a soldier?”

“Yes.. sir,”

“Well! Let’s put that to the test,” he boomed again. “Evans! Bring me this private’s new uniform.”

Within seconds, the man was at his side holding a folded army uniform. Thornton took it and handed it to Luke.

“Put this on, boy! Let’s see how you’ll fit in here,” he said with an almost sinister twinkle in his eyes. 

Luke had no choice but to then strip down to his underwear in the middle of the crowd. The eyes of the dozens of men he had entered with were burning holes in him as he changed into the fatigues. They immediately felt too large for him but he continued as the sergeant watched impatiently. He pulled up and belted the pants before buttoning the shirt closed. They were at least two or three sizes too big, Luke thought, and he looked ridiculous in the oversized fatigues. He laced up his boots which were also excessively large and stood back up to address the sergeant’s burning gaze.

Out of nowhere, Luke suddenly felt like he’d taken a punch straight in his stomach. He collapsed to the ground on his hands and knees, gasping for air as the pain in his stomach did not lessen, but began to spread. His torso felt like it was on fire, and he groaned in distress as his body was overwhelmed. Everyone else in the clearing was watching in awe as Luke’s body began to grow. His spine lengthened slowly, back widening and shoulders broadening. His legs began to stretch and grow longer, adding a good eight inches to his height. He began packing on muscle like he’d been working out for a decade, limbs inflating in seconds adding strength and size. His chest pushed out into two meaty pecs, which finally caught Luke’s attention from the incredible soreness he felt as his body exploded in size. His eyes widened as he watched his own body fill out the fatigues that had moments ago been far too large, arms swelling to fill the sleeves and chest pushing against the now tight shirt. His legs also bulked up, adding 20 pounds of muscle as quads and hamstrings grew in and thickened. His feet expanded, pushing against his large boots. He felt a sharp pain shoot through his jaw as it widened, giving him a square and masculine face. The pain began to subside and Luke managed to stand back up, this time matching the sergeant in height. 

The drill sergeant addressed him, “Good start soldier.” He had a hint of a grin on his stern face.

Luke was angry and confused, “What the hell was that? What did you do to me? What do you mean good start…” His sentence trailed off as he felt an intense tingling feeling arise on his chest. Underneath his tight uniform shirt, in the center of his massive pecs, tiny brown hairs began to poke out of his skin. The hairs started out thin and wispy but quickly thickened as they grew longer, spreading out across Luke’s mountainous chest muscles. The hairs erupted across the expanse, burying the skin under a dense layer of fur as they grew thicker, longer, and tangled together. Especially dark hairs sprouted around his sensitive nipples, causing Luke to let out a moan as he brought his hands up to massage them. The crowd watching Luke was stunned at his actions in front of the sergeant. Some of the men closest to him could see what looked like thick hairs beginning to poke out from above his shirt collar. The fur on his chest had spread up across his collarbone and had started peeking up onto his neck, where it was finally visible. The sergeant stood watching with a smirk as Luke was lost in a world of pleasure, rubbing his nipples as hair began taking over his body. The hair was not confined to just his chest, and shot down south across his stomach, coating his new abs and muscle in the same thick rug. The hair was growing in so densely that it started to push out through cracks and seams in his uniform. 

The other privates were speechless watching this erotic display in front of them, not knowing what to do. A few noticed Corporal Evans, who was standing behind the drill sergeant, subtly mimicking Luke’s actions, seemingly lost in his own bodily pleasures as his hands roamed his body. Luke’s breaths grew louder as the hairs continued climbing up his thick neck, creating a river of hair traveling up from his chest to his square jaw. He’d never had much stubble before, just some light peach fuzz, but that was changing. The soft hairs were overrun with thick, wiry, testosterone-fueled growth that coated his jaw in an incredibly dense beard. His upper lip was next, first darkening with the shadow of thick stubble before the hairs pushed out and completed the full beard on his face. Luke’s hands moved upwards, stroking his fingers through the long wiry hairs that now covered the lower half of his face. His eyes closed as the pleasurable sensation began to control his actions, wanting to experience every ounce of this growth. The beard growth was very noticeable to the crowd as well, as men further away began to break formation and inch closer to see what was happening to Luke. Evans was in the back, feeling the scratchy stubble on his own face as it pushed out a couple millimeters, just enough to leave a dark five o’clock shadow.

Unbeknownst to the crowd, Luke’s body was continuing to change under his uniform. Luke could feel every new hair sprout out of him as the hairs spread, conquering more of his newly buff body. His armpits tingled as the follicles there went into overdrive, pumping out hair after hair. What had previously been a sparse grouping of hairs quickly became a thick tuft of sweaty, musky hair. Dark and wiry hairs pushed out of bare skin, spreading out and covering his pits in a full manly bush, already dense enough to trap his body sweat and stench. Luke stuck one hand into his shirt to scratch the growing forest in his pit before pulling it out and smelling his fingers. He shivered from the euphoric smell of his own musk that was only growing more potent. The pit hairs continued to spread and even connected with his chest hair, creating a seamless rug across his whole upper body. 

The wave of hair growth continued advancing across his muscular body, with hairs beginning to pop up across his broad shoulders. They were joined by more and more hairs, giving Luke a thick coating across his traps. The hairs began to crawl down his brawny back, knitting a rug as they grew thick and tangled across his shoulder blades. As the hairs advanced down his spine they also began covering his arms, where long dark hairs were pushing out across his triceps before utterly engulfing his forearms in dark fur. Luke watched as the thick hairs poked out of his sleeves, ensuring anyone would know even in full uniform how hairy he was under there. That is, if they didn’t notice his large, calloused hands, which had their own small carpet of hairs sprouting across the backs. Luke could feel as the hairs creeping down his back reached the bottom, where a bushy tuft sprouted up just above his waistband. He subconsciously knew what was next, and moments later he was overcome with bliss as his thick ass cheeks sprouted their own rug of dense curly hairs. He could feel how the thickest, longest, and darkest hairs were pushing out of his crack, and he reached his hand into his pants to feel the silky fur that filled the gap. As all eyes were on Luke, Corporal Evans was still engaged in his own stimulation, feeling his pit hairs push out a little more, his back get a little more hairy, and his ass plump up just a bit more.

Luke felt his now size 16 feet heat up in his boots, beginning to grow itchy. Hairs were crawling out of the tops of his massive feet, popping out of his thick toes shortly after. The hairs climbed up his thick legs from his feet, coating his calves in dark hairs before engulfing his massive thighs. The hairs came in thicker and darker as they neared his groin, where his formerly modest bush began to double, then triple in size. Thick pubes were sprouting up all across his crotch, enveloping the area in a dense forest of curly hairs. Luke let out another moan at the sensation and shoved both his hands into his pants. He felt the coarse hairs sprouting through his fingers as his bush continued to spread outward. His cock began gushing precum before it too began to grow. It had almost been swallowed up by the immense bush, but now it hardened and pushed out, growing longer and thicker. Luke grasped his growing member and felt the hair climbing up the shaft as it continued to push further out of his bush. He felt his balls swell in size and drop a little farther down, becoming coated in hairs just like the rest of his groin. 

Luke was overcome with euphoria, and the animalistic instincts took full control as he began stroking his nine inch cock with both hands, each pump blasting his brain and body with pleasure. The sergeant and everyone else watched as Luke jacked off to his own transforming body right in front of them, stunned into silence. Corporal Evans, still unnoticed, slid his own hand into his pants to deal with his rock hard problem. Luke kept at it, moaning louder and louder as precum poured out of his cock. Every stroke seemed to make him grow just a tad bit larger, just a little hairier. Finally, after a few minutes of being overcome by pure ecstasy, he erupted, a fountain of cum spraying out covering his new uniform in sticky white semen. Some of it even got on the sergeant, who seemed unfazed. Evans grunted quietly as he pumped a massive load directly into his jockstrap that he had on under his uniform. He wasn’t prepared for quite how large it would be, leaving a wet spot on the front of his trousers and leaking down his leg. Luke panted as his mind returned to his body, finally taking stock of the situation and realizing in a moment of panic what had happened.

Before he could say anything Sergeant Thornton started to laugh. His roaring laughter pierced the awkward silence that had overtaken the space for the last while. He walked over to Luke and slapped him on the back.

“Atta boy! That’s what I like to see,” He said to Luke with an uncharacteristic smile. The crowd was shocked. That was not the response they’d expected in the slightest. 

“You’re fit to be a real soldier now, and I trust you’ll serve us well. A fine specimen!” he turned to the crowd. “Look here, privates! This is a real man, a bastion of strength and masculinity who can take a beating and give some hell.”

Luke too was stunned. He was scrambling to process what had just happened to him, and that it was seemingly planned by the sergeant the whole time. His thoughts were cut short by the sergeant addressing him again.

“Well son, you’ve done good today. We’ll have to clean up that scruff of yours to get you in regulation,” he stroked Luke’s new beard with his hand, sending a bolt of lightning directly to his still semi-erect cock. “Corporal Evans will help you out with that, and with cleaning up your fatigues,” he said as Evans approached from behind. Luke noticed the darker stubble on his face and the dark splotch in his bulging crotch. 

The drill sergeant once again spoke to the crowd, “The rest of you will be assigned living quarters and shown the areas for training. I want you all back here at exactly 1300 hours!”

Evans ushered Luke away from the grounds and into his own private quarters, where he stripped out of his cum soaked uniform and finally got a look at himself. He was taller, absolutely built, and incredibly hairy. It turned him on in a way he never knew he could be, his cock once again rising to full mast. He rubbed his hands through all of his new fur, unable to believe what he was seeing.

“I was in your shoes when I enlisted,” Evans said to him. Luke turned to face him and saw a slight blush in his cheeks, and his bulge was even more noticeable. “I’ll make sure you get cleaned up and everything, but how about first we just enjoy the new you in its raw form,” he said, stepping right up to Luke and wrapping his hand around Luke’s cock. Lost for words, Luke pulled off Evans’ hat and leaned in for a kiss, grabbing his bulge and pushing him against the wall.

Maybe bootcamp wouldn’t be that bad.

This was my longest and most ambitious story yet! Hope y'all enjoy it and thank you for nearly 400 followers in just a month! Feel free to dm or send an ask if you have ideas for future stories.

[giveafike]

Hi can you write Elliot euphoria and YN have a camping indoors sleepover that leads to more than just friends. Extra smutty please 🤭

TLDR: Elliot and Y/N planned a "camping trip" during college vacation and well, one thing led to another and...

Word count + info: 2.1k THIS ONE IS LONGGGG! Dialogue (it’s mostly sex talk and them being silly goofy guys). Female college!readerxElliot (no specifications).

Warnings + Content Ahead: NSFW this is 18+ MDNI, 420 mentioned, biting, oral sex, no protection (smh), lotta making out and mouth stuff, thigh riding 🤭 I think that’s it!

Azzie Notes ✚: Chat we are so back! sorry I took so long bro, IRL has been soo fkin messy atm but I just needed to write and get back on here. Why is my inbox ovulating so hard tho 😭  guys lets be demure too (kidding I need dom more than ever before now that Dominic has gone MIA)I hope u enjoy it's been a while! I also mentioned Euphoria like,.. the actual word and geeked out a bit go try n find it and geek out w me

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When It Rains, It Pours - D.F.

“Oh, dude you’ve got to be fuckin' kidding me” He huffs.

There you both were, like two idiots holding hamper baskets with blankets, snacks, rolling papers, and small pillows, staring out the glass door into the backyard as rain poured down heavy, the sound of wind whistling as the drops hit the windowed door hard.

You and Elliot had spent many summers “camping” in his backyard since High School and since college had separated your time together, what better way to reunite than kicking off summer in your hometown by camping? Only this year, you both promised to save up and go somewhere this time, but alas, it was just you, Elliot, his empty house and, the torrential rain outside. You both stood in matching tartan shorts and your graduation grey t-shirts from high school like a bunch of losers.

You sigh as you set down your hamper. “So much for that camping trip, huh?” you smirk, biting a smile down.

He sets his hamper basket down too and rummages through it to find his rolling paper and his little bag of weed. “Can’t believe our fuckin’ luck man” He murmurs angrily as he fumbles his papers up.

You sigh and reach over, grabbing his now crumpled paper, and, plop yourself down on the beanbag by the door before rolling his blunt for him. He sighs and sits on the floor between your legs, placing his chin on your knee before looking up at your face, and tucking some hair behind your ear.

“I missed this- I mean I missed you, ya know? Seeing your Instagram Stories and FaceTiming isn’t the same, you even look different. I really wanted to have something to remind you of me, like old times sake sort of thing, whatever that shit means” he mumbles, before pressing his cheek onto your knee, avoiding eye contact.

Your eyes widen at his confession and you stop in your tracks, your fingers moving away from the paper to his face, bringing his eyes back to look at you. Elliot had a lot messed up but one thing was for sure; he always had your back and was always there whenever you needed him.

You both were messed up together, he was your first kiss accidentally, you accidentally smoked weed together, and you both accidentally spent the night in a jail cell after trying to joyride an old car, only to end up crashing that same car within the span of a few minutes since neither of you could drive. Something about those accidents made your heart flutter and kept you around Elliot closer rather than push you away, even though your parents didn’t exactly take it well. Now, after spending almost 8 months away, you were worried Elliot felt like he was slipping away.

“Elli, you’ll always have me, you know that right? Like, you’ve fucked me up so bad that we have a trauma bond, you can’t expect me to slip away, dude. A-And remember one time it rained like this and we made an indoor fort? How ‘bout we do that then, yeah? We have all the stuff for it, the weed and all.” You smile, hoping to get a small laugh out of him as you hold his head, his eyes boring into yours while your fingers coil around his blonde-tipped hair.

He sighs and closes his eyes softly, before nodding, grunting as he gets up. He looks down at you before you lift your head to meet his gaze. Elliot lowers himself to plant kisses on your forehead with an overwhelming tenderness that sends shivers down your spine. It turns almost possessive as he trails it down to your cheek and peppers it with long kisses. Your breath hitches and you feel like melting under his touch. You had never felt a simple kiss to be so sensual but here you were, shivering with your breath hitching. He brings his mouth to your ear, his breath slow and almost ragged.

“If you left me, Y/N, I don’t know what I’d do...” His breath is ragged against your skin as he nips at your earlobe before abruptly standing upright again. He digs into his pockets as he walks over and attends to unpacking the hampers, acting nonchalant despite the raw passion still coursing through him. Elliot has kissed and touched you before, albeit while high, but something felt so different, so desperate at this moment.

You try to shrug it off as you roll a few more blunts before crawling inside the now-built fort Elliot had made. He sits on his knees as he puts up some string lights and fluffs up some pillows before resting on his elbows and leaning back. You sit in front of him, holding a blunt between your lips. He can’t help but smile as he brings his old lighter up to you, setting it alight and bringing his face close. The first hit in your lungs feels like home as you exhale with a giggle, blowing the smoke directly into his face. His eyes narrow playfully as he leans in, not breaking eye contact. Instead of simply taking the blunt, his lips brush against yours—soft, lingering—before catching the blunt between them. The kiss is brief but electric, the blunt slipping from your mouth to his as his lips hover close, teasing. For a moment, his face stays just inches from yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with the haze of smoke.

It’s like you’re in his pocket and he’s in yours, both of you wrapped around each others’ fingers. Your back is almost pressed to his, your face tilted up to look at his while his hands wrap around your waist, under your shirt and the waistband of your shorts feeling your smooth skin. It must’ve been 20 minutes when you decide to put the blunt to the side on a small tray and reach up to his face, this time parting his mouth for a kiss. It’s lazy and relaxed as you shift your body to straddle his thigh, your tongue slipping in. Elliot moans into the kiss, holding your hip with one hand and gripping your hair tight with the other.

You grind and gyrate on his thigh, your hands pulling at his curls; you knew he went crazy for hair tugs. His lips trail your neck, his tongue and teeth trailing and gnawing as he laps the length from your collarbone to your earlobe. You let out a whimper as you continue to buck against his thigh, desperate for more. You pull away, pressing your forehead to his.

“Elli, please… don’t hold back” you murmur, pleading as you heave.

He doesn’t answer, instead, he nods and takes his hand under your t-shirt to lift it up and over your head in one swift motion before connecting his lips back to yours. You gasp as you feel the cold air hit your naked torso, the sensation fresh with the sound of you making out with rain noises in the background and the smell of marijuana burning away. It all feels so right, so real.

His head dips between the valley of your breasts, suckling while holding eye contact, lazily moving his mouth over your breast, gliding the tip of his tongue in painful slow circles before taking your nipple between your teeth. His eyes look into yours with pure innocence and attentiveness, as you moan and hold his head there, roaming his curls as you continue to rock back and forth on his thigh, desperately trying for some friction for your now soaking core. You roll his t-shirt up and take it off his torso, throwing it to the side.

Elliot holds you and places you down on the pillow and the mess of bedsheets covering the wooden floor. He leans down, planting soft kisses from the nape of your neck to the edge of your waistband. He perks up to look at you with those sweet eyes you can never get enough of.

“You’re stunning, you know that, Y/N? You always have been.” He whispers shyly before tugging at your waistband looking for approval.

You nod and lift your hips up as he pulls your shorts and underwear off in one swift motion, discarding them outside of the fort. Elliot almost groans at the sight of you completely naked, his eyes filled with desire and admiration. He grabs the blunt placed on the tray and takes a long drag. Smoke billows from his lips and drifts towards your glistening center, making you shiver with anticipation. You moan at the sensation, feeling a wave of heat rush through your body. His head dips down while he kisses your inner thighs, licking softly. He kisses your core, right on your bud making you gasp. Elliot gently spreads your lips, taking one long lick up, circling over your bud. Something about how easy and purposeful he was being had made this all the more arousing, loud moans and encouragement rolling out from your lips begging him to keep going.

Elliot eats you out as if it's his sole duty, his purpose in life, and takes his sweet time to savour you, to thrust his tongue in and out of you, to drink you up until it brings your next orgasm, and then do it all over again. His hand thumbs your breast, the other holding your hips down as you continuously buck up for each wave of pleasure he gives you that ripples through your body. Elliot reaches down to free his member as he carries you through yet another orgasm, this time jerking himself off in slow, lazy strokes, dedicating himself to you first.

As you come down from your orgasm, you feel like you’re seeing stars, everything is flowing perfectly and harmoniously for the first time in a long time. You prop yourself up on your elbows as you watch him gently guide himself to your wet core. Elliot rubs his head up and down before thrusting in, watching your face for any sign of discomfort or displeasure. You grab his shoulder with one hand and bite your lip, nodding to ask him to keep going. He pushes in further, bottoming out inside of you entirely. Your tight hole twitches around his member, adjusting to his size as he slowly moves out, before pounding back in.

It doesn’t take much for Elliot to lose control and find himself relentlessly thrusting into you, roughly gripping a hand to your breast as he moves at a furious pace. You let out provocative giggles and purrs, further fueling his intense desire as he thrusts in and out of you. The fort feels humid, the sound of rain and skin slapping filling the room. Your body craves this, needing more and more as every thrust sends a wave of pleasure through your entire body. Elliot's red eyes are locked on yours, his face contorted with pure passion, your name spilling out like a prayer. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him to go even deeper. His breath hitches as he pounds into you, his hips bucking wildly. The smell of sweat and sex fills the air as he continues to pound, his name echoing from your lips with every thrust.

As you near the edge, you can feel yourself tightening around him, squeezing each time he slams into you. Elliot grabs your hips, holding you tightly as he thrusts faster and harder, his eyes locked on yours. His face is a mix of passion and desperation, knowing you are about to shatter beneath him. And then it happens. You both reach your peaks, sending a jolt of euphoria through the both of you before collapsing, rocking together in one final attempt to ride out your highs. Your nails dig roughly into his shoulder as Elliot bites down on yours, your arms holding him as he lies on top of you before he pulls out and falls to your side. You both breathe out with your mouths dry and skin slick with sweat as you stare up at the bedsheet lined fort ceiling covered in string lights.

Elliot sits up to lazily grab the blunt from the tray, accidentally brushing past one of the fort supports. He pauses for a moment, before exhaling and lying back, taking a drag before handing it to you, smiling.

“You know, for a second there I thought I fuckin’ ruined the momen-” He’s cut off by the fort caving in, entangling you both in sheets. You can’t even be mad at him, he just accidentally crashed his own fort after making your legs shake. God knows how the rest of the night goes, but at least it’s spent with good, old Elli.

[catharusustulatus]

Steve has never actually kissed anyone on New Year’s Eve before. After he and Nancy reconciled post-Demogorgon showdown in 83 they’d gotten close, but Mike had interrupted them on the Wheeler’s front porch, the little shit. And after Nancy, well, he’d been alone in 84. In 85, he and Robin built a blanket fort in his living room and drank themselves sick on root beer until the ball dropped, and he’d held her hand while they drifted asleep, kissing out of the question; he loved her in a different, deeper way.

And now…now it’s 86, about to be 87, and Eddie is alive, miraculously, and all of them are gathered in the new Hopper-Byers house, and Eddie has been flirting with him ever since Steve manhandled his mangled body to the hospital, Steve’s an idiot but he’s not stupid, and here’s Eddie looking at him like Steve is alive, too. Eddie looks at him and something awakens. There’s an electricity in the air, the kind he told Dustin about once upon a time in the woods.

So when he knows no one is watching, he looks Eddie deep in the eye and says “share a smoke?” And they leave the room together for the quiet cold of the backyard, still mostly weeds and the dark of winter and Steve can see Eddie’s breath. Can see how alive he is. He’s been worried about him all year, intrigued by him, pulled toward. And now here they are. The dim patio bulb flickers and before Steve can get out a cig, can say another word, before he can say “happy new year Eddie I can’t stop thinking about you and I know you’ve been flirting with me for months and I want you I want you just as bad will you kiss me?” Eddie is already kissing him.

And it’s soft. It’s so soft, because Eddie is smiling against his mouth in a kiss, his left hand coming up to hold Steve’s chin. And then it’s hotter, their breath mixing as they both open their mouths wider, kissing deeper, feeling their lips move together and Steve can’t believe it can’t think can’t hear the screen door open can’t stop kissing Eddie until he feels Eddie pull away, removing his hands from his hair, hears Robin say “uh, earth to dingus one and two, hello!?”

Steve just stares at Eddie, blushing and smiling. He doesn’t turn to her, can’t look away when he says “hi Rob.” Eddie won’t look away either. Eddie won’t look away from him, does the opposite, grabs Steve’s hand. Steve feels like he’s floating.

“Oh my god, lover boys. It’s only” Steve sees her lift her wrist in his peripheral vision, “ten thirty. It’s only ten thirty and you’re already kissing!” He can hear her exasperation, but beneath he knows, he can feel her approval. He can’t help it, he’s relieved. He’s happy. He starts to giggle.

Eddie starts to laugh too, pulling Steve closer. Steve finally looks over to see Robin rolling her eyes, but she’s also beaming, her face lit by the single bulb, and they pull her down to them, hug her, kiss her on the cheeks. “Ah, my freckled friend. You won’t spill the beans, will you?” Eddie asks.

Robin pinches Eddie’s cheek. “Your secret’s safe with me, hotshot.” Steve knows down to his bones it’s true. Knows she’ll cover for them. This makes him feel even giddier. “I’ll, uh. Let you two get back to it” she says, and then she’s gone, and it’s just Eddie looking at him again, staring at Steve like he’s a second moon, a pretty thing.

They kiss and kiss and kiss, until they slide out of the grass and out the back gate and kiss their way back to Steve’s car, into his house and bed and heart and it’s already a good year.