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apollosgiftofprophecy · 3 months

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ToA Fic Recs!!!

Tag List: @itscharliebabey

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE!

I probably forgot a LOT but these are the ones I tracked down via bookmarks and frantic searches upon realizing they Were Not bookmarked rip 😔

AND ALL ORGANIZED!!!! :DDD

OneShots

Apollo & His Kids

A Heart Heavy With Memories by @summerbummin

After reclaiming his godhood, Apollo visits his children often, and on one of those visits he tells them about their mortal parents. He shows them memories of their time together. And ends up reminiscing a little more than he bargained for.

How I Met Your Mother(s and Fathers) by NebuchadnezzarII

Around the Cabin Seven table, Apollo tells each of his six children how he met their parents.

Through The Son's Eyes by @literallyjusttoa

A journey through Asclepius' relationship with his dad, from Ancient Greece to modern day.

demand nothing less (than transformation) by tissuebocks

Dad is quiet for a moment, stroking her hair. Then, with a surge of his usual flamboyant excitement: “At what time is your date?” Kayla blinks. She pulls back a little to look at Dad. He’s still a little blurry from the tears, but she feels much calmer now. “He’s picking me up at six. …Why?” Dad’s eyes—cobalt blue—sparkle. Literally. “We’re going to dress you to the nines.” (or: apollo loves his daughter. he also loves fashion. even better is when the two intersect.)

@tsarinatorment

Can't Take My Eyes Off You

Naomi Solace is performing at a black tie event, and neither her son nor his boyfriend know much about formalwear. Day 2: Black Tie Event

Fatal Flaw

Every demigod had one, and every demigod had their trial where they had to face it head on and hope they had the strength to defeat it before it defeated them. Day 24: Injuries Beyond Healing

A Right To Emotions

Apollo had abandoned his son when he needed him, and the worst thing was that he’d never realised until Nico told him. Day 30: Forgiveness In A New Day

Childhood, Or A Lack Thereof

Demigods grow up too fast. Day 23: How long does youth last for?

Memories of Sunflowers

He first met his dad in a field of sunflowers. Day 2: Alone in a Sunflower Field

Shuttered Heart

Apollo loves fiercely and his losses hit all the harder for it. It's a trait his children inherit.

Daughter of Archery

If there’s one thing Kayla knows, it’s archery. Day 17: Perfection Is A Must

Apollo & Meg

Movie Night by @falconfrost

Meg and Apollo attend a midnight horror movie showing. Everyone likes clowns, right?

yesteryear by @m-arnie-xx

yesteryear (noun) — last year or the recent past, especially as nostalgically recalled; often a period in the past with a set of values or a way of life that no longer exists. Or, There is eighteen hours, thirty-five minutes, and nine seconds, between when Meg last sees Apollo, and when Artemis sends a sign to Camp Half-Blood to tell them that he has survived and defeated Python.

lesterlicious by apopcornkernel

yazz_ • 1 week ago This dude is straight up LARPing as the god Apollo or something 4.7K likes REPLY View 25 replies

Meg & Apollo's Highly Limited Roadtrip Playlist by Curioser

Fourteen hundred miles. Four radio stations. Two friends trying hard not to kill each other, or to acknowledge the fact that in less than a week, they may never see each other again. And Lizzo. So much Lizzo.

visions of beasts by UKULELEchildren

Suddenly, a figure appeared in the dark haze. A vague smudge of purple appeared. His cloak. “No.” I whispered. “You’re dead.” What would Meg have visions about?

Apollo & Olympus

Beneath the Rhododendrons by Lepidopterrain

Carefully, she slipped past the hyacinths that had popped up around the bush like a small protective wall. They'd been the only reason she'd looked down at that spot really, and noticed the flash of gold curls amongst the pinks, reds, and purples of the rhododendrons. Artemis let her fingers linger on the petals of one of the small little guardian flowers, just for a moment. She'd never been sure if her brother had noticed just how little control he actually had over hyacinths, for a flower that was supposedly 'his.' She suspected Demeter and Persephone knew, if anyone. But neither goddess had deigned to talk of such matters with Artemis. Perhaps for the best, Artemis wasn't really sure what she would've said if they had tried to bring the subject up. There's a very good chance she wouldn't tried to shoot one of them and then escape while they were distracted. Emotions weren't her forte. She was grown enough to admit it.

@tsarinatorment

The Older Twin

Apollo could lie all he wanted, Artemis was the older one. She’d never felt that as keenly as she did now. Day 26: Missing You

Third Strike

Zeus loved Apollo, once. His favourite son, his golden child. His greatest threat. Day 19: And So The Sun Sets

Ancient Greece

A Sun's Forgiveness by @hazardous-lightdas12

“Mortals die Artemis,” Apollo whispers. “Their lives will forever wax and wane. Like the moon. The ebb and flow of Uncle Poseidon’s waves. But us. We are eternal. You must remember that.” Her brother sounds like he has said the words to himself too many times. – Apollo does not scream when the lightning bolt strikes him. -- Alt Summary: Fathers make mistakes sometimes. Hippolytus’ father has made the teensy, easily understandable and forgivable mistake of beheading his son due to unproven and untrue allegations. Artemis grieves. Apollo tries to make everything all better, and somehow ends up making everything worse. . Zeus is so good at daddying! Admetus worries about the logistics of cow-herding

Of ravens and songbirds by Cassiethewriter

The godling whimpered and fought, and Python refused to let the hiss of frustration fall out. “Quite understandable, too.” He said, coils growing tighter and making the godling cough again. “Poor fair Leto being hunted by the issued Hera, the Queen of Olympus and the only child raised by Rhea. You heard of Leto’s suffering from day one, and sought to bring justice to it. Very brave and god-like.” Python snorted again. “But I’m afraid this is where you myths start— and end. Right here, right now. Like a moth to the sun.” Or, The battle with Python.

Phoenixrising007

Party On Olympus (gone wrong)

Mother’s hand was holding onto him firmly. Probably to stop Hermes from running down the hall and around the finely carved pillars decorating the sides of the palace. Despite the fact that if he were a mortal he would not even be walking yet, he already got himself into trouble recently.

Puppies (and why they can fix anything)

"Aww look at the puppy!” He raced forward, voice an octave higher than usual. As is normal when speaking to such an adorable creature.

Apollo & His Lovers

Naomi Solace

thinking about it, had a breakthrough by @thesungod

“I’m Naomi Solace!” “Okay?” “The singer?” Fred shakes his head, a smug smile on his lips. “Never heard of you.” “As Long As The Sun Shines? It was number 1 on the billboard for like, a month!” Hating herself, she starts mouthing the melody. There’s no way this asshole doesn’t know her stupid song. Naomi Solace meets an arrogant, young producer that she really wants to kick in the balls. Unfortunately, he seems to know what he’s doing.

Solar Powered by @curseofdelos (:D Glad to see you reblogged this hehe here's a tag :3)

Apollo, god of music, was how he had introduced himself. Naomi had assumed he was joking, and he didn't correct her. She had dated musicians and poets before. They all had an ego, and those same words would not have felt out of place from either of her exes. She merely downgraded Apollo from potential boyfriend to potential fling, and didn't think twice about it. Now though…. Now her son could heal wounds with a single touch, and her world was tipping on its axis.

Daphne

Plaything of the Gods - Daphne's Story by @the-primordial-archivist

When Apollo finally decided to wear a crown, it was her leaves that topped his head. But it wasn’t just he who wore her branches. Winners had her leaves on them too. Laurels. The symbol of victory.

Hyacinthus

You make a fool of death with your beauty (and for a moment, I forgot to worry) by @ukelele-boy

Sometimes as a god you lose track of time. With all his prophetic powers, Apollo never saw it coming.

His Flowers byshotar1s

Meg notices her servant, Apollo, is quieter than usual. Oh, the flowers in his hands explain why.

Frey

I Woo The Asgardian Hipster God by ladanse

"Another time, in a Stockholm tavern, I met this god who was smoking hot, except his talking sword just would not shut up." -The Hidden Oracle, Rick Riordan

(sidenote: WE NEED MORE FREYPOLLO)

REVOLUTION

Conversations (regarding a certain half-brother) by Phoenixrising007

Walking out of the council meeting Ares did his best to make sense of what just happened. Apollo was there. Back just like Athena said he would be. She won the blasted bet. Again.

@tsarinatorment

The Sun

Apollo plays the role of an idiot well enough that often, it’s forgotten that he’s one of the most powerful gods - and one of the most wrathful. #140: Setting Heaven on Fire

Seven Days and Seven Nights

A warning, a storm, and Will’s world gets flipped upside-down. Day 11: Storming

MultiChaps

Secrets of the Sun by @sierice and beta'd by @ukelele-boy

“No, that kid is too similar to me… way too similar... Almost like he’s…” Apollo’s eyes widened. “Like he’s you from the future?” Persephone finished. Dionysus asked incredulously, “You don’t seriously think that right? There’s no way you would ever dare to look like that!” -------------------------- This is literally just a Trials of Apollo reading the books fic. Hope you enjoy!

time eats all his children by IzzyMRDB

There is something sickly in the passage of time. Time is a rot. A disease or a plague, a festering in your very being that blurs the past until it is tainted with the present. Until the present is tainted with the future. The Greeks were well aware of this sickness, for all their depictions of time, while divine, were also rotted. AKA Apollo is the god least touched by the passage of time, yet the one most affected by it. There's so much of the present that he could change. AKA Time Travel with Post-TOA Apollo

Flowers For Apollo by @soleil-in-retrograde

As far as Lester Papadopoulos was concerned, he was seventeen years old and lived at home with his elderly mother just outside of Tampa. He had a(n older? younger? twin?) sister who visited regularly and a baby sister(?) in California who called him her dummy and would help out with his mother's garden when she visited and he was teaching piano to. He also had a myriad of cousins who went to a camp up north he wrote constantly. He didn't know what he wanted to do with the life stretching in front of him. ----- The God Apollo has a bad habit of not telling people when something is wrong. It doesn't help he doesn't quite remember until it's too late. It's not his fault.

Over The Palisade by @aeithalian

This was an old dream. He’d had it many times before. Jerry, standing before the Roman Senate. Mars, waving his hand. A lyre, appearing on Jerry’s arm. Jerry’s prophecy: “Crowns will fall to ash.” Jupiter, standing between the new augur and a towering statue of himself. Apollo, standing between his father and his son. Olympus, Apollo on his knees, trembling, electricity jumping over his arms. A stranger’s face, dark and stony. He says something, but the words are quiet. The doors of the Palace of the Sun. Chained shut. Or: Apollo has been missing for two and a half years, and there may or may not be an impending apocalypse.

Sunrise by IcyDreams_and_FieryWishes

At 10,000 years of age, Apollo falls to Chaos. With the last of his strength, he sends his memories through the fabric of Space-Time. At 1 day of age, Apollo refuses to let the story be the same as last time. Vi Va La Revolution. SkyFall: Season 1, Arc 1- The Rising Sun. In which Apollo lives through his early life, forming alliances and rewriting mythological history while striving to keep his siblings and family safe from threats outside and within their home. Will he succeed? Or will Fate prevail once more? One thing is for sure, Apollo remembers. And he will take his vengeance.

@tsarinatorment

THE MUST-READ Eclipse!!!!!!

According to the prophecy, Will has to go to on a quest to Tartarus. According to Apollo, that isn’t going to happen, even if it means he has to break the Ancient Laws.

The Stolen God is a ToA/MCatGoA crossover!

Python is defeated. The prophecies are restored, and Nero has fallen. Apollo has not been seen since. His trials are over; why isn’t he back on Olympus?

@flightfoot

Memories of Godly Selfishness

Chapter 1: Apollo and Meg watch Apollo's interactions with the demigods (and Grover) in Blood of Olympus and the Singer of Apollo. They don't like what they see. Chapter 2: Apollo, Meg, and Percy watch the fight with Otis and Ephialtes in Mark of Athena. Apollo gains new perspective on gods’ relationships with demigods. Chapter 3: Apollo, Meg, and Annabeth watch the final battle against Kronos and the aftermath, with a surprise guest later on. Chapter 4: Apollo and Meg watch “Welcome to Camp Half-Blood”. Apollo gives a long over-due apology. Chapter 5: Side Story - Satyr School: Apollo teaches some young satyrs. Chapter 6: Apollo, Meg, Thalia, and Will watch Thalia's and Luke's encounter with a certain son of Apollo.

A Convergence of Apollos

Percy had been hoping for a quiet afternoon celebrating Grover's birthday with him. Then Apollo arrived, and their peaceful afternoon got a lot less peaceful. It got even weirder when two kids popped out of thin air who both seemed to know him.

@falconfrost

Apollo & The Aftermath

The Roman emperors and Python have been defeated, the oracles reclaimed, and Apollo restored to godhood. He's having somewhat of a hard time adjusting to being back among the gods, which is understandable after his six-month grow-a-conscience speedrun. But something else is rotten in the state of Olympus, and before it can really feel like home, it's going to require some serious renovation.

The Tail of A Pollo

The hunt for the Teumessian Fox hasn't been going great, but thanks to a new prophecy (of sorts), it looks like Apollo may be key to aiding the Hunters of Artemis in the beast's defeat. In like, a super badass, heroic way, of course. Actually, on second thought, maybe just imagine the monster's defeat in your head. You definitely don't have to read this. I'm certain you get the gist of it already. You can simply exit this tab real quick, no biggie. Have a lovely day!

Bad Sons by @thesungod

Hades turned to the demigods that were still kneeling. “I need to speak with Will Solace,” he said to the shocked room, in the tone he could have used to say “I came to ask if one of you could lend me a pen.” “Alone,” the god added after a moment, staring right at Nico. Or, Will and Nico go on the stupidest quest ever. And it’s all Apollo’s fault.

Curioser

Fall of The Sun

Five times Apollo fainted and one time he didn't.

The Trials of Apollo: The Forgotten Acres

When their truck breaks down on the way to New York, Apollo and Meg get a few days of downtime in a refuge called the Forgotten Acres. While there, Apollo confronts a decision he's been putting off for weeks, and finds that it's one of the hardest choices he's ever had to make.

RavenWingDark

Kill The Sun

Even restored to godhood, Apollo still wants to be around his friends and mortal family, even at the risk of Zeus'...dissatisfaction. This is the four times Apollo got away with helping his demigods and the one time he didn't.

Mourning Sun changed my brain chemicals

Percy has the Chalice and all he has left to do is hand it over to Ganymede. Then he notices Ganymede might not be the only one being mistreated by Zeus. Apollo's at brunch, too.

Series

the grace of gods is a grace that comes by violence by @californiannostalgia

Were I That Burning Star, the first fic in the series, is an absolute Must Read imo

An old panic gripped me—the breathless fear of being forgotten, being lost. Would anyone remember me when I was gone? Would someone think to lay a flower down on my grave and say some fond nothings like, “Was a pretty cool guy, that Lester,” while wiping off a single dramatic tear rolling down their cheek? Oh, who was I kidding. So what if no one remembered? There wasn’t much I was proud to be remembered by anyway. After defeating Python and bringing down Nero, Phoebus Apollo reclaims his godhood. He is glorious once more. But for some reason, he can't quite make himself go back to how things were before. (A Character Study of Various Gods, including but not limited to: Apollo, Artemis, Hermes, Aphrodite, Ares, Athena, Hephaestus, Dionysus, and maybe Zeus)

Gods' Eye View by @flightfoot

Carefully, I picked out Apollo’s string. It glowed vibrantly, as the strings of all divine beings do. Mine most brilliantly of all, of course, though Apollo’s always seemed to be trying to outshine it. I firmly grasped hold of it, matching its own glow with my own. Slowly, I exerted my will, my power, pressing my radiance against the manifestation of Apollo’s, slowly increasing my light until it overpowered his. Yet, it resisted me, its glow strengthening, refusing to surrender. I grit my teeth. “I am Zeus, King of the Gods, and your father. Submit to me.” ----- Zeus tries to turn Apollo into a mortal. It does not go as well as he expected. That only incenses him further.

The Hidden Oracle+1 spin-offs by @garecc

Artemis falls to earth with Apollo in the hidden Oracle. Flames streamed off her body as she fell. Features sibling banter, protective Artemis, and far too many headcanons. ON AN INDEFINITE HAITUS.

rip hiatus😔

Memories of Dust and Gold by @moodyseal holds lots a variety of fics!

Companion Fics

The Healing Sun by ReadTheBooks. Companion to Eclipse

You are Asclepius. You are 9 and just want to help people. Your father is kind, and warm, and you love him dearly. Or, a look at a relationship hindered by loss but persevering through love. Asclepius and Apollo throughout the ages.

Other, But During ToA

A Single Drachma by @tsarinatorment, podfic by @stereden

Alone. Injured. Hunted. Michael doesn’t know where he is, but he knows he’s running out of time, and he’s only got one shot at calling for help. He’s got to make it count.

In Dreams by @m-arnie-xx

Zoe did not like Lord Apollo. He was too arrogant, too vain, and flirted with her and her fellow hunters incessantly. He always appeared in their camp at the most inconvenient times, offering archery tips that no one wanted and being a persistent source of annoyance to Lady Artemis near constantly. Zoe did not like Lord Apollo, but sometimes, when Zoe asked a Hunter how they knew something they couldn’t have possibly found out by themselves, and they told her about their dream, she would look up at the sun, and she would wonder… or Zoe did not get demigod dreams… until she did.

Hunger Games AUs

Bloody Eclipse by AmeliaAndreas3

The Sun Must Go On by @please-help-this-little-lesbian

The Golden Gates by SAM_42

Still The Mockingjay Won't Sing by SunnySky_11

The Copollo Masterlist - Collection of Ao3 & FF.net fics of Apollo & Commodus </3 Trainwreck beloved

And of you'd like, my fics:

The Works of Apollo - Canon Compliant Fics!

Alder's Mess of ToA AUs - AUs!

Adventures in (Grand)Parenting: Featuring Koios - My obsession with Koios spawned this!

The Crew of Dodona - Pirate AU! Random fic ideas written whenever the itch strikes!

#FEAST MY FRIENDS FEAST!#fic recs #the trials of apollo #trials of apollo #toa apollo #pjo apollo

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dmercer91 · 8 months

Note

it doesn’t click why she’s being nice for luca until he goes with her on one day and he realizes which dorm he’s in

it’s her own way of coping without adam, because he’ll if she’d admit to missing him.

and then when luca finds her in there he’s like “…wanna call mo?”

i love!!!! black cat! readers love for adam

so much

like so much

luca heard nick and josh talking one day and they invited another player to their dorm, mentioning the room number and he was like OH? this explains things

same place, new people | opposites attract au, lf63

last year, you’d go to adam and lucas dorm every day after class. you’d snuggle into lucas bed and wait for him to come home for a movie, or you’d draw.

now that luca was living with you in your apartment, you had a new routine this year- every day after class you’d coop up in nick and josh’s dorm, sat in nicks corner of the room and you’d work on some personal drawings or something that needed done for class.

today was no different. the boys usually took longer to get here than you did, since they took their time walking, while you always had an unearthly pace.

so, you got there first and made yourself comfortable before the chaos started.

sat near the heater between the wall and nicks bed, your back against the wall and your legs cried crossed as leverage for your book.

you flipped the hood of lucas sweater over your head and pulled out your sketch book, flipping to your most recent drawing of cudo- the cat from the convenience store you worked at.

you’d needed to add some finishing touches, and you knew you’d be able to get it done while the boys screamed at nhl 23.

the door cracked open and you stayed concentrated on your paper, but furrowed your eyebrows when you saw lucas shoes in your peripherals.

your head shot up, nick and josh already getting out the game for the three of them to play.

“hi, pretty. s’ that cudo?” luca sat next to you, looking down at you.

you looked away from him, at your paper, tapping the back of your pencil on your book anxiously. you nodded, trying to read wether or not luca knew where he was and why you’d been here.

“i’m trying to make his fluffies… fluffy,” you murmured, going back to your drawing and hoping he’d go to the boys and grab a controller.

“looks good, pretty. d’ you wanna call ads later and show him?” you looked over at him, panic clearly set in your eyes

you closed your book and slid it off your lap, out of the way.

he smiled softly, kissing your temple. “um. if you want,” you said, clearing your throat subtly.

“he misses you, you know?” your lips parted slightly and you picked at your fingers, shrugging.

“really?” luca smiled, nodding. he pulled you closer to him, nearly sprawling you in his lap, and you hugged him tight, wrapping your arms around his shoulders while his squeezed your waist.

“yeah. we’ll call him later, okay? finish up fluffing your fluffies. know you concentrate better here,” you grinned and gave him a small peck on the lips, earning a fake gag from nick.

“dude that’s like my sister. hands off,” he glared, grinning immediately after the look served its comedic effect

“she was my girlfriend before she was your sister, moldy. get an eye mask or something,” luca joked, getting up and grabbing a controller

#opposites attract au !#e’s 500 celly!#e’s blurbs!#luca fantilli #luca fantilli x reader #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #umich hockey

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moremaybank · 1 year

Text

FEATURE ME — j.m

pairing jj maybank x fem!reader

summary your breakup with rafe leaves you single and alone on valentine's day. you run into jj at a bar, and things get heated. (based on the song “feature me” by flo)

warnings 18+, unprotected sex (jj pulls out), semi-public sex, fingering, squirting, language, i think that's it but let me know if i missed any

author's note i love this song, dude. give flo a listen if you haven’t, they’re amazing

jj masterlist ;; valentine's event ‘23 𓆩 ♡ 𓆪

not what i usually do but i’ve been peepin’ you

i’m tryna play it cool but it’s too much

he got me breakin’ the rules

there ain’t no steppin’ to, he’s my forbidden fruit, yeah

you’d never been the type of girl to partake in a steamy one-night stand. at least, you didn’t think you were.

but all of that changed when you saw your old friend jj walk into the bar you were at.

jj was wearing a simple short sleeve button-up paired with some jeans, his boots laced on his feet. he looked amazing, all sun-kissed and devilishly handsome, just as he’d always been.

his eyes roamed the room as he tried to decide where to sit, and they went wide when they landed on you, seated at the bar with a stiff drink in hand. a familiar grin rose onto his lips as he walked over to you, running a hand through his signature messy blonde locks.

“hey, sweetheart. whatcha doing all alone on valentine’s day?”

“didn’t you hear?” you asked. “rafe broke up with me.”

jj’s brows furrowed, “what? weren’t you together for, like, four years?”

“yup,” you scoffed, downing your drink and slamming the glass down on the bar table.

“well, he’s an idiot. you’re amazing. you deserve better than that,” he said, sliding into the seat next to you and ordering himself a drink.

the two of you stayed there for a while, knocking back drinks together and reminiscing on fond memories from high school. you and jj were good friends, him always being able to make you laugh and have fun with you at parties. of course, you’d always thought he was good-looking, but your heart was taken, and you were always faithful to your boyfriend.

“and then you punched kelce so hard he fell over,” you laughed as your hand rested on jj’s shoulder.

“eh,” he shrugged, laughing along with you, “he totally deserved it. he was annoying as fuck back then.”

“still is,” you replied. “and i agree. it was well-deserved.”

“so…i hate to bring this up, but i just gotta say it. how the fuck could rafe just let you go like that? i honestly thought you guys were gonna get married,” jj said.

“he said the passion and romance were fizzling out, and he was getting bored. he even told me that our sex life was horrible as if it was my fault. he’s the one that fucked me in the same goddamn position every night, barely even making sure that i’d cum before rushing out the door to meet the guys. he was probably cheating on me, honestly.”

“well,” jj began, inching closer to you, “if i’d been the one fucking you, i wouldn’t have stopped until you came at least nine times.” his hand smoothed up your knee, slowly creeping up your thigh as he kept his gaze locked on yours.

you felt a throbbing sensation in your core. you saw the fire behind his eyes, and you decided to play along. “only nine? why not ten?”

“babygirl…i’d give you as many as you wanted. i bet you sound so pretty when you fall apart.”

your heart pounded in your chest furiously as you registered his words, and you instantly felt slick pooling in your panties. jj’s low and raspy voice as he whispered to you, and his heated hand on your bare thigh made you nervous, but you wanted to be brave. you wanted to let go and let yourself have fun for the first time since rafe had dumped you. so you bucked up.

“wanna find out?”

oh, he’s got me actin’ like i’m some kind of animal

the way he looks at me, i don’t feel like a girl no more

what you want from me? arch my back like it’s supposed to be

i do it properly, ooh-woah

jj kissed you fervently, pushing you against the back of the restroom door. his hand blindly fumbled around as he locked it, ensuring no one could come in. his fingers then threaded themselves into your hair, holding your face to his while he devoured your lips. you pulled him closer by tugging on his collar, wanting to feel his body pressed against yours.

“mm, wait,” you stopped, pulling away abruptly. “this could be really stupid. what if we get caught?”

jj only smirked in response, his thumb stroking your cheek as he repositioned it to cradle your face. “don’t you remember my motto, baby? stupid things have good outcomes all the time.”

the worry on your face wavered just a tad, but jj could see that you weren’t entirely convinced. he let go of his hold on your face and slipped under your skirt. he found your clothed clit with ease, applying the slightest bit of pressure as he started to massage it in slow circles. you let out a hushed moan, but it was loud enough for jj to hear. smugness took over him, and he knew he could quell your fear.

“c’mon, pretty girl. let me make you cum a few times in here. then i’ll take you back to my place and let you use me in any way you can think of. it’ll all be for you.”

you thought on it, your eyes locked on jj's while he watched you try to hold back. jj's eyes held so much lust and fire in them, and it was hard not to think about how good it would feel to just give in. he continued rubbing your clit, adding more pressure little by little as he awaited your response.

“deal.”

set the scene and feature me (ah-ha, ah-ha)

touch on me (on me), get on your knees

i’ll take the lead

i got the energy, oh-woah, woah-woah

we’re not meant to be, so promise me

when i’m done (ah-ha, ah-ha), you’ll up and leave

‘cause boy i need to take the lead (take the lead, baby)

so match my energy, oh, oh

i’ll take the lead

jj had picked you up mid-kiss, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you over to the countertop and set you down. your legs remained open, your heels pushing jj’s hard-on into your clothed core and making you shiver in anticipation. he ground into you slightly while he deepened the kiss, letting a loud groan into your mouth.

you whimpered at the feel of him. you could tell he was big just from that one little action. you didn’t even have to see him naked to know that he would be the best dick you’d ever had.

it was the way he conducted himself. his greedy hands caressing and grabbing you anywhere they could, kissing you as if he’d never get another chance, pulling you against the tent in his jeans and rubbing against you. it made your knees weak in anticipation of what was to come.

jj’s hands snuck up your skirt in search of your panties. you raised your hips, leaning back on your hand and helping him remove them. once he did, he gave you a mischievous grin and shoved them into his back pocket.

“of course you'd wear the sexiest panties i’ve ever seen. can’t believe you spoiled rafe like that. fucking ungrateful bastard.”

“jj,” you sighed. “you can’t keep those. i don’t want you getting any ideas about this becoming a thing.”

“relax, princess. i know what this is. just want a lil’ souvenir,” he replied, giving you a wink. “i’ve been waiting years to fuck you. i think i deserve to keep ‘em.”

you laughed softly, shaking your head at him. “you’re trouble.”

jj’s fingers found your bare pussy, prodding them at your seeping entrance. he slowly pushed two of them inside, and you gasped. he gave you a smug look, “the best kind.”

he curled them upward each time he stroked your walls, playing with your g-spot and watching your reactions as he did so. he watched as your lips parted and you began to breathe heavily. your eyes were shut, and you held onto jj’s muscular shoulders as he pummelled his fingers inside you.

“j, please,” you panted, pulling away. “no more teasing. wanna feel your cock.”

“uh uh. make a mess, baby. want you nice and ready for me,” he spoke against your lips. “let’s see how easily my fingers make you cum.”

his fingers sped up, thrusting into you faster as his thumb came into contact with your needy clit. he continued to stroke your g-spot while he stimulated your clit, and your moans were growing louder, so loud that you’d get caught without a doubt. jj kissed you to keep you quiet, swallowing each of your pretty sounds. he admired how intoxicating you were at that moment, taking particular pride in him being the one to turn you into a puddle without doing much.

with a well-timed flick of your clit, you came around his fingers. you squeezed jj’s arms as you did so, grounding yourself as your orgasm rippled through your body. it was already so intense, you wondered how much more his cock would affect you.

jj retracted his fingers, shoving them straight into his mouth so he could taste you. he instantly groaned, his tongue lapping every drop of you while his eyes rolled back. “christ, you taste as perfect as you look. when we get to mine, i’m gonna devour that pussy. you got that?”

“definitely. but right now, i want you inside me, jj. stop talking and fuck me.”

boy, it’s the perfect time (oh-woah)

seems like you read my mind (oh-woah)

you know just what to do

and how to bring my thoughts alive (thoughts alive)

my thoughts alive (thoughts alive)

so take your time (ah-ha)

undress me tonight, oh-ooh, oh, oh (undress me)

jj’s fingers moved to his jeans, undoing the button and zipper as he worked to free his cock. he shoved his jeans and briefs below his ass, finally letting his cock come into view. it was standing tall and proud, all thick and pretty. you salivated as you imagined the gratifying weight of it on your tongue or how it would feel when he pushed inside of you.

“like what you see, princess?”

you brought your attention back to jj at his words, blushing as he gave you a knowing grin. “very much so. your cock is so pretty, j. want it inside me already.”

he gripped it, leading it to your entrance. he pushed the tip against your slick, and he hissed at how wet you were. he couldn’t wait to find out how perfectly you’d wrap around him and how velvety and warm your soaking walls would feel as it swallowed him whole, so he pushed inside. you both gasped, watching as he sank into you balls-deep.

“look at that, baby. look how stretched out you are around my cock. so fucking tight i can barely breathe,” jj rasped. “‘m gonna destroy this pussy.”

he began to move, giving you punishing thrusts right off the bat. he pulled one of your legs, hooking it over his shoulder and giving himself more room to split you open. you moved one of the hands you’d had on him, gripping the side of his neck as you leaned back against the mirror while the thrill of pleasure overtook you.

“so fucking big, j. holy shit,” you whined as he fucked you.

the hem of jj’s shirt seemed to be getting in the way, and jj was quick to pull it in between his teeth. he did it so seamlessly that it was one of the sexiest things you’d ever seen. he remained concentrated as he tried to fuck your brains out. his goal was to fuck you so good that rafe would be nothing but a small part of your past, and you’d know what you deserved in the future.

one of jj’s hands moved down to play with your clit, rubbing furiously as his hips sped up. your cries were increasing in volume, ten times louder than when he’d fucked you with his fingers, and jj’s solution was to let go of your thigh and clamp his hand over your mouth. it barely made a difference, but jj didn’t care. the fact that he was fucking you so good that you couldn’t control your noise made him giddy.

he released his shirt from his mouth so he could use his filthy words on you again. “i love how you sound, baby. fuck, any louder and everyone in this goddamn bar is going to know whose cock is driving you crazy.”

“j,” you mewled. your voice came out muffled due to jj’s hand, but he still somehow understood you.

“what is it, baby? tell me what you want, tell me how to make you feel good. promise i’ll give you whatever you want,” he cooed. he moved his hand from your mouth, resting it on the heated nape of your neck.

“don’t hold back. fuck me harder, please.”

your pleading eyes ignited a fire within jj, and he nodded. both his hands found your thighs, keeping them against his torso as he fucked you harder, just as you’d wished. he slammed into you harshly, stuffing you full with his cock nice and deep each time.

“jj!”

“shhh,” he hushed, “gotta stay quiet if you don’t wanna get caught, baby. when we get home, you can scream as loud as you like.”

are you receivin’ the signs (signs)

i’m speakin’ on my mind (speakin’ on my mind)

i just want you to come through (want you to come through)

already set the mood (the mood)

i’ll tell you what to do to me, oh-ooh-woah, oh, oh

are you receivin’ the signs (signs)

i’m speakin’ on my mind (speakin’ on my mind)

i just want you to come through (want you to come through)

already set the mood (the mood)

i’ll tell you what to do to me, yeah-ayy, yeah-ayy

“you want more, baby? want me to play with your clit and make you cum all over me?”

you nodded profusely, your eyes shutting closed as jj drove into you quickly and roughly. you were vibrating against his body, the force of his thrusts shaking your body back and forth. he groaned at how well you were taking his cock, your walls squeezing him like a vice as he punished them. he fucked you relentlessly, one hand finally coming down to toy with your clit again. he rubbed it viciously, sending bolts of pleasure through you and pushing you over the edge.

“j— i’m gonna—”

“i know, baby. i can feel you. give it to me,” jj responded, keeping up his actions. you let out a muffled cry as you bit into your bottom lip, trying to keep yourself quiet. your juices squirted out of you, surprising you both as you drenched the hem of jj’s shirt and his bare torso.

“good fucking girl. now everyone’s gonna know what we did in here. bet you wanted that, huh? wanted to let everyone out there know how i fucked your pussy until it cried for me?”

you were still whimpering, coming down from your high as jj chased his. his own grunts were increasing in volume as he teetered on the edge.

“c’mon, j. paint my pussy with your cum. cum all over me,” you begged. “please.”

jj’s cock twitched inside of you, and he pulled out right before he felt himself erupt. he jerked his cock furiously, releasing all over your pussy and inner thighs. “shiiit.”

“that…was so fucking hot,” you panted, admiring his cum on your skin. you collected his cum on your fingers, bringing them into your mouth and licking it clean. “mmm, you taste amazing, jj. promise me you’ll let me suck your cock when we get out of here. wanna feel your cum drip down my throat while you fuck it.”

jj gave you a cynical smile through his hazy expression as his hand came up to your face, “there’s nothing i want more, pretty girl.”

jj succeeded in his goal. rafe was the furthest thing from your mind right now. all you could think about was him.

jj tag list (join here!): @maybankslover @kittyqrt @v-velvetykisscs @hobiibobii @rafesdior @fool4him @hemogloban @pankhoeforlife @rafesmuse @lyn07 @houseofperfecttaste @qualitybelieverflower @dudenhaaa27 @princessbetsy123-blog @tori-loves1 @alexxavicry @kenzi-woycehoski @elijahssuit @skydisneylover @adoreyouusugar @obxjjpouge @conniesanchor @baby-maybank @angel037 @wotfasked @rafelover @penny4yourthoughts @adr1an4 @nerd505 @xngelsau @maybank-archives @p4nkowrld

751 notes · View notes

raspberryjars · 10 months

Text

It’s You. (Miles’ POV)

word count: 1,328

summary: miles is on the subway when he sees the most beautiful guy he’s ever laid eyes on. unfortunately he doesn’t get his number, name or even to talk to him. but, what if they meet again?

tags: miles morales x hobie brown, miles morales & gwen stacy, hobie brown & gwen stacy, no powers au, subway meet-cute, but also introduced by a friend, they’re all around 20

tag list!! (lmk if u want to be added/removed)

@spo0kypigeon @not-gifted-but-burned-out

His old headphones had broken the previous day, so he’d been out to pick up some new ones. Fancy, high tech ones that he’d seen a few people on his feed wearing. They were pretty cool but he definitely needed some stickers or something, they were just kind of plain and grey, not exactly his style. They had amazing sound quality though. It was almost like someone was actually singing into his ears. Fucking expensive though, so if they broke like his others he’d actually lose it.

He was in the middle of texting Ganke about his headphones when the train stopped, signalling he should get off. And as he stood and walked to the sliding doors, something, well someone really, caught his eye.

An absolutely beautiful, and, like, he means beautiful, guy was sitting right there, across from where he’d been sitting literally not even two seconds ago. Like, this drop-dead-gorgeous guy, was sitting there, and it looked like he was looking at Miles. Or at least in his general direction. This guy, with beautiful dark eyes, like seriously beautiful eyes. And like a million piercings in his face that made Miles’ skinny little nose ring look practically invisible. And also, like, his whole look was really cool. He had boots that looked like they could smash someone’s face in, and probably had based on the blue ladder lacing on one, but like, this really cool, really really hot guy had just been staring at him on the subway? And he could do nothing about it but just walk away from him because by the time he’d finished his train of thought about the guy's style and eyes and everything, he was already walking up the stairs away from the platform and the train was long gone, along with the amazingly beautiful guy.

Fuck.

The guy from the train had been stuck in his mind since that day and had not left. He’d probably told everyone he knew about him by now. Ganke had been the first to hear about him, given that they were in the middle of a conversation when he saw the guy. Then Gwen, because he really just had to tell her every detail about his life. Then he’d accidentally told his Mami because she’d been talking about the subway and then he’d remembered the guy and then she’d asked what he was thinking about so then he’d ended up telling her. And once he’s told his Mami it’s only a matter of time before he ends up telling his dad too, and yep he’d found himself telling his dad all about the guy and the fact that he hadn’t even said anything to him. So he’d pretty much told everyone in his life, which was actually kind of sad thinking about it because he’d only told four people, one was his roomate, and two were his parents. So yeah, kind of sad.

But if he had actually said something to the guy, then maybe he’d have one more person to add to his contacts. They’d probably become fast friends, Miles would take him to see some good graffiti spots, he seemed like he’d be into that sort of thing, maybe they’d go for drinks after classes and smoke together. And they’d tell each other their problems and dreams and thoughts until eventually they confessed to each other and then they’d live a life of going to concerts and clubs and art shows and loads of other cool stuff.

Oh Jesus, he was going crazy. He was actually daydreaming about a life with a stranger that he hadn’t even spoken to. He really needed more friends.

(23:38) FROM: Gwen :p

hey dude do you want to come over tmrw?

my friend hobie might come too.

hope u can make it.

It was almost like an answer from the heavens. He had literally just been saying that he needed more friends, and his best friend was asking him to hang out with her and her friend? Definitely a sign.

(23:40) TO: Gwen :p

yes defo!! cant wait see u then!!

just tell me whenever time im free all day!

He watched as she read the message, typed for a few seconds and then went offline before discarding his phone on his bedside table. This was absolutely a sign that he and this Hobie guy were going to be good friends. It would definitely be good for him to have more than two friends.

He woke up to the noise of his phone ringing really, really loudly and for a split second he wondered if it had gained consciousness and learnt how to scream.

However the computer uprising had not started and it was actually just his father.

“Miles where have you been? Me and your mother have been calling you all morning!” Okay well he was fucked. He may be moved out and all that, but that wouldn’t stop his parents grounding him somehow.

“Sh- Sorry! Sorry Dad! I just forgot to set an alarm last night, and I didn’t know you were going to call and yeah.”

“Right well, your mother and I were wondering if you’d like to come for lunch today? We haven’t seen you in awhile and you know how she gets.” He could hear his mothers muffled voice in the background and he laughed slightly.

“I promised Gwen I’d see her today but I can probably make it for lunch.”

“None of this probably, you can make it for lunch. We miss you Miles.”

“Yeah miss you too dad, I’ll call you later, text me when you want me to come?”

“Will do son, I love you.”

“Love you too Dad.”

He had a complicated relationship with his dad at times, recently they’d been doing a little better, and he didn't want to mess that up by skipping going over for lunch so he sent a quick text to Gwen telling her he could probably come by around two or three and flopped back down into bed.

Thankfully lunch hadn’t taken too long, occasionally he’d been known to get sidetracked when at his parents and end up staying almost the whole day. But his mother had bought tickets to see some movie later that day so it wasn’t just him that had other things to do. It was nice to his parents though, plus it had taken his mind away from the guy from the train for a while.

As he neared Gwen’s apartment, her place not being too far from his parents’, he found himself wondering what type of guy Hobie would be. If he was a friend of Gwen’s he’d definitely be pretty cool. But maybe not from New York if he hadn’t heard of him before? Who knew honestly.

He ran up the last few steps to Gwen’s door and buzzed the doorbell. Hearing his name yelled from inside, he was laughing when Gwen opened the door.

“Miles! Hey man, how’ve you been?” Gwen asked as he walked in, slipping off his shoes as he did so.

“Yeah I’m good, you?” He smiled as he followed her to her front room.

Just as she opened her mouth to answer him, Miles quickly cut her off at the sight of her friend Hobie. “Holy shit, I saw you on the subway the other day right?” There was no way, Gwen’s friend was the hot guy from the train?

“Yeah I remember, you were texting!” So the guy from the train, or well, Hobie, had been looking at him, actually looking too. Like, looking enough to see what he was doing, which meant that he could’ve been checking him out, maybe.

“Shit wait, Hobie’s the hot punk you saw on the subway the other day? Man if I’d have known that I would’ve set you two up or something.” Gwen laughed, making him blush furiously.

Well that wasn’t embarrassing of her to say at all.

lmk what you think and also check out my ao3!!

#raspberryjars #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #punkflower #spider punk #miles spiderman #miles morales #spider man #miles molares #miles x hobie #subway meeting

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jiminjamms · 2 years

Text

sex therapy :: 11. naughty girls

chapter tags/warnings: more (rough) sex. with my favorite dude tho, lol. choking. brat taming. breeding. creampies. enemies to lovers? possessiveness. infidelity/adultery. strong language. dirty talk. humiliation. use of alcohol.

word count: 3.4k

notes: finally back from a long hiatus! (rant about my summer here) i'm very well now, even with the start of the semester, and literally overjoyed to be writing again. as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

In all honesty, Sukuna had always been one hell of a good looker that no one could ever quite ignore.

He was handsome, he was unnaturally charismatic, and—judging from the nightlife empire he ran—he was also very, very successful.

And who didn’t love a rich, hot, and charming sugar daddy? (No one, duh.)

Looks and wealth aside, what really intrigued you were the ways he’d leave pieces of bait knowing full well that you’d bite, all as if he was trying to figure you out without revealing much at all about himself.

Don’t tell me he’s one of them, you pondered with annoyance, referring to those paparazzi journalists who were only good at spinning tall tales out of nothing.

Oblivious to your suspicion, Sukuna had shifted his gaze and gestured at Kaeya, the blue-haired bartender who quickly returned to his boss with a shot glass and an assortment of hard liquors.

You watched curiously.

Birthday Boy sure knew how to work his hands—opening bottles with the flick of a wrist, filling his glass right to the rim—all while the dim neon lights cast a subtle glow on his silver rings.

He created quite the concoction, pouring himself some rum, some vodka, splashes of some unlabeled beverage. This, no doubt, was the nastiest impromptu cocktail on Earth, but Sukuna didn't show the slightest grimace as he took his glass and drank it straight.

No chaser, no mixer, no nothing.

That man was an absolute animal.

“You’re staring again,” Sukuna teased as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Something about that sly tilt to his lips left your knees rubbing against each other. “If you like me, sweetheart, you don’t have to be shy. It’s expected anyway that you’d have the hots for a guy like me.”

Your thoughts nearly scattered.

Don’t do this to me, dude.

You had to remind yourself that Sukuna was a notorious womanizer.

Besides, what was it again that he said during your first encounter? Something about how he ‘already got some other women on his hands,’ right? For your own pride, you were not about to be another expendable commodity on his list. Not for someone who could never reach your prestigious ranks.

Consequently, there was every reason for you to blow off Sukuna’s advances. Yet, just to test his waters, you said boldly, ��Maybe.”

For him, it must have been strange to hear you admit that you might just have a teeny tiny smidge of interest in him. Thus, there were a hundred—no, a thousand ways in which this could go wrong. In particular, Sukuna would surely be interested in humiliating you, turning you into a laughingstock at the bar, but he didn’t.

Instead, his eyes flared with intention, almost a sort of wickedness. “Just a ‘maybe’?”

Oh boy, if the actual paparazzi got a hold of this discussion, you would surely be on the tabloids for weeks.

Thankful that the music masked the frenzied rhythm at your chest, you assembled the courage to stare Sukuna down. “Why would that matter to you? This how you get your girls?”

For the first time, he seemed taken aback. “Why? Is that what you think of me?”

You nodded. Of course.

Two visits to the sex therapists’ office, and you had both seen and heard enough regarding him and his reckless escapades.

But Sukuna grinned because, this game, he liked to play.

“To clear any misunderstandings, pretty, I would never force any girl to do something she doesn’t want...unlike, perhaps, your man at home.”

He paused meaningfully, as though he wanted that last bit to sink in.

And it did.

How and what did Sukuna know about Naoya’s relationship with you?

You didn’t get your answer then because the nightclub manager continued, “My point is, I don’t run to women. Women run to me. I merely present them an option, and—as a gentleman—I merely let the ladies decide. So, back to our original discussion…” He smirked. “I could easily turn your Maybe to a Yes.”

Do it, you felt tempted to say.

Rather, you deflated your puffed cheeks in a flustered manner, the expelled air brushing against Sukuna’s undercut. First, you wanted to evaluate what he had to offer.

“Like how?” you eventually asked.

In response, Sukuna leaned forward, his muscled forearms grazing against your sides. His scent was strong and heady, a whirling redolence of warm spices and rosewood, and he brought his lips right to your ear as a long, warm exhale tickled your earlobe.

“Like how?” he repeated. He sounded insulted. As he brought himself closer, his teeth nearly grazed your skin. “Are you testing me?”

Ignoring the drum at your chest, you sat up to look taller and more intimidating. “No, sir.”

“Really? But then, why aren’t you?”

“Because…” Because you were a married woman—not to mention a prolific aristocrat—and you could only imagine how the public would react to see a socialite like you involved with more men than you could handle. “Because…I’m a good girl.”

“Are you?” he challenged and suppressed a wry grin. “It won't hurt to be a naughty girl for a little bit. Baby’s got to be a rulebreaker sometimes."

You dug your fingernails into your palms. Sukuna sure knew how to please with his wit and his words, whispering honeyed promises to ears who desired the most. His appeal was surreal—that much you knew, yet here you were falling for him hook, line, and sinker.

When Sukuna stood up from his seat and departed from the counter, your gaze frantically followed him. Truly, there was no need for you to be all up on his personal matters. What he had to do was none of your business. It was so darn apparent he was trying to get you.

Yet the moment he stepped a little farther than you would like, curiosity got the best of you.

“Where are you going?” you blurted.

Sukuna, stopping in place, spun around. Given his victorious grin, he had been hoping that you would halt him. The man pondered in thought, nonchalantly tugging at his button-up’s collar.

“’Like how,’ right?” he repeated, referring to your original question. “I can show you ‘how,’ if you’re interested.”

If you were interested…

Sukuna didn’t wait for your response. Instead, he turned back and walked into the crowd that generously parted for him, slapping his back and embracing him to bestow birthday wishes. He was popular enough that your existence must be nothing but a speck in his large pool of acquaintances. There was no reason for you to follow him.

After all, he simply was—as he put it earlier—presenting you an option. He obviously wanted in on your body, to ‘show you what orgasms really feel like’—something he had also mentioned during your first office visit.

But Toji had demonstrated enough already. And there was no way you were going to let yourself get passed around that easily. As a result, following him was as good admitting your loss, giving him consent. You weren’t stupid enough to fall into that trap. Such an irresponsible decision would only be for ‘if you were interested.’

So, were you interested?

Obviously, not.

Right?

Yes, you totally were.

“I can’t fucking believe myself,” you muttered in frustration as you jumped off from your perch, finding yourself tracing Sukuna’s steps into the partying congregation and hurriedly pursuing flashes of his pink locks the same way a turtle hatchling would scramble for the sea. On the way, your head buzzed with excess alcohol or adrenaline, or both.

When Sukuna reached the other end of the venue, he disappeared into an empty VIP room. You trailed several meters behind him. There was still time for you to turn back and reconsider.

Yet, when you approached the doorway yourself, when Sukuna grabbed your wrist to pull you in, when your legs went weak as the door clicked closed, was it wrong for you to feel…excited?

Finally shielded from the watchful gazes of many, Sukuna slammed you into the corner as your surprised whimpers graced his ears. Sandwiched between the warmth of his chest and the cool of the wall, you gasped when he pressed his mouth against yours and ran his tongue across your bottom lip. You invited him in, his taste bitter but simultaneously somehow sweet from liquor.

His lips danced in a way that was innocent at first, but Sukuna quickly revealed his true colors as he started sucking your tongue, drawing circles at your cheek, growling hoarsely into your mouth—greediness that sent a sparkling sensation sizzling through every cell in your body.

‘Like how?’

Oh, Sukuna would demonstrate ‘how’ alright.

He was a man to his word, a man who would not waste a second without reason.

His hands roamed from your ass to your chest, his hips rolling deeply and slowly as he dry-humped you against the wall. He pulled down your shoulder straps and then the top hem of your magenta dress, groaning into your mouth—all with so much satisfaction—when he finally liberated your breasts. When Sukuna pulled up the skirt too, he bunched your skimpy little dress at your stomach, pushing aside your satin panties.

You squeezed your eyes shut as his fingers leisurely traced your labia, lathering your lubrication across your slit. Sukuna held his breath in bliss, his growing erection pressed against the plush of your thighs. You nearly cried out in disappointment when his hand brushed over your opening, not completing his deed by pushing his finger in. All because Sukuna knew how to build anticipation, leaving you waiting and craving for him.

When Sukuna, noticing your tugs at his dress shirt, unbuttoned his entire top and tossed the fabric aside, your gaze instinctively crawled all over his bare torso in awe.

Although you had glimpses of his tattoos before, there was nothing like exploring these patterns at such a close range where you could wholeheartedly admire the broad black lines that flowed from his neck to his hips, the thick bands that encircled his biceps to his wrists.

Sukuna grabbed your hand quite suddenly. “Don’t just look,” he ordered. “Touch.”

You gulped. But he was surprisingly gentle. He wordlessly guided your delicate fingers down his chest, tracing the dark patterns on his defined torso, his skin hot and flushed. Something about this felt so intimate, so sensual. He steered your hands from his sternum to his pectorals, from his pectorals to his abs.

You were stopped by the waistband of his trousers. Anxiously, you glanced up and he caught your gaze. He wanted his pants off. With your help, of course.

The idea left blood pumping vigorously through your body.

You undid the top button, heartbeat racing. Good thing you weren’t completely sober, else you couldn’t do this at all. As you brought his zipper down, your knuckles accidentally grazed his clothed cock, and his body tensed from the unexpected contact.

When your hands stopped again but this time at his underwear, you looked up once more.

Nervousness bubbled in your veins, unsure how to properly proceed. “Can I—” No, you sounded like an idiot starting a question like that. “May I—?” Too formal. “Should I—?”

Sukuna’s own patience snapped due to the agonizing wait, pulling his boxer briefs down in your stead, freeing his cock which pulsated from sheer anticipation, lifting you into the air to position his blood-gorged dick at your entrance.

Never did you have a second to breathe, and that one moment when you did, Sukuna pushed himself into you with one lightning-like thrust.

“Sukuna!” you shouted, slamming your head against the door, sounds drowned by the muffled music outside. Gripping the man’s shoulders, you gaped at the ceiling, head trying to wrap around the pinching pain inside your walls, the pleasure that blossomed at your core.

Supported midair by Sukuna’s hands on your ass cheeks, you panted hard, adjusting to his immense size as you intuitively wrapped your legs around his torso. An involuntary jerk of your hips in the process caused Sukuna to twitch, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. How…how deep did he go?

Sukuna partially slid himself out to slip inside again, this time delicately. One inch, then two inches. The stretch—it hurt. Three inches, four inches, five inches. Just how many more inches was this guy packing?

When he bottomed out again, a shared guttural groan rumbled in the room.

“I hope you know this is the only birthday pussy I want,” Sukuna murmured. He pulled his hips back, all the while tenderly massaging your bare butt and pressing your back against the wall, the mellow cold offering relief amid the heat. “So, I’ll play nice and give you a heads up that I’m going to fuck you.” The garnet shades in his eyes suddenly gleamed. “Hard.”

Before you could completely process his words, he slammed his dick right back in.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull; your mouth parted in another scream. Fingers laced between Sukuna’s pink strands, you shuddered from the hypnotic rhythm he began to create. In and out and in and out, each ram stronger and more forceful than the last, each thrust hitting deeper and caressing more sensitive spots than its predecessor.

Sukuna chuckled. “Feeling alright, baby?”

Oh, you were doing much more than alright.

Every thrash into your soaking and weeping hole rippled all throughout your body in waves of tingling, aching sensation. The conscientious thoughts in your mind are nothing but a disarranged mess, a fucked-out expression painted on your face.

You could barely pant an answer, the pulsation from within driving you insane. “More.”

“More?” The question sounded faint from the cacophony of skin slapping skin, from the moans of bottled-up lust and desire. But nothing could hide the amusement riddled in his tone. “Sure about that?”

Your head lolled to the side, and you nodded. Yes.

Nothing could hide Sukuna’s triumphant smirk. This bastard definitely had something up his sleeve.

“But I thought you were a,” he narrowed his eyes impishly, “a good girl?”

Checkmate.

He chuckled sardonically, knowing he quoted a line that was all too familiar. “Well, Miss Goody Two-Shoes?” he continued to taunt. “Thought that an angel like you didn’t want to get in trouble.”

Momentarily, you exhaled deeply in defeat. There was nothing like your own words coming back to bite you in the ass.

Meanwhile, devilish delight was written all over Sukuna’s tattooed face. “Then, just admit it,” he whispered by the temple of your forehead, a wicked grin pressed at your skin. Sukuna, as you discovered now, loved to win. He was right, and he always wanted to be right.

He pushed himself real deep into your hole, feeling him throb with excitement against every square inch inside you. “Admit that you’re nothing but my naughty girl tonight, you dick-deprived bitch.”

You didn’t. At least, not immediately.

Thus, the displeased Sukuna freed one hand from your thigh. You fell, but he steadied you against the wall. He then wrapped that hand around your throat as though his fingers were made to be your necklace. You yelped quietly when he squeezed the sides, constricting airflow.

At first, you coughed, then gagged.

And Sukuna growled. “Admit it.”

There was such a threat implicit in his words. You mustered a weak nod in response.

“No. I want to hear it,” he ordered coldly. When he tightened the clasp at your neck, his frigid silver rings like ice against your broiling skin. “It’s my fucking birthday, so say it.”

“I…I—” You gasped for air, arms practically flailing from the lack of oxygen as you blinked past your spotted vision. “I’m your naughty girl, Sukuna. Please. Please. Fuck me faster, harder.” Another cough. “I need more.”

Sukuna stopped all motion and closed his eyes momentarily, breath hitching as he savored your words. The admission of his victory was pure music to his ears, a bliss that could easily bring him over the edge.

He loosened his grip from your collar, proudly watching you choke and wheeze for air.

That’s right, you were his naughty little whore on his birthday night. You were never meant to be a good girl. At least, not ever since you had stepped foot inside that fated office looking for sex therapy.

That was when you were all dewy-eyed and pouty.

And look at yourself now, all salivating and cock-hungry. Only good girls gone bad could ever get a piece of him.

Before you could fully recover, Sukuna started to pick up speed again. He started slow but his movements soon grew relentless as his dick plunged into your stretched-out walls over and over and over again, snapping his hips into you at a pace that you might have deemed impossibly fast before.

You stiffened with one long moan.

“Look at yourself,” the man jeered, cackling like a madman. “Wish you could see this. You love this, don’t you? Getting split into two and shaking over my cock. Tell the birthday boy that this was exactly what you needed, baby. Come on, tell me.”

“Oh please, yes,” you hissed, desperate to gratify a pussy pleaser like him. “God fuck, you’re so good at this, Sukuna.”

In your two milliseconds of awareness, you peeked at where your bodies were connected, observing his moist cock sheath into your awaiting cavern with raw amazement.

“No wonder Toji didn’t want to share,” Sukuna murmured, his voice suddenly so, so sexy to your ears. “I, too, would want to keep your pussy all to myself, if I had things my way. Hell, if I really could do whatever I want, I’d fuck you every other night because you’re too sweet, you know that?”

Nearly lost in the quagmire of physical, mental, and auditory sensation, your fingernails pressed crescents into his arms. Your legs were feeble and your mind exhausted, mind clouded only with the thoughts releasing the twisting sensation at your belly, unsure how much longer your poor body could hold up from each hard pound. “S-Sukuna.”

“It’s okay. You can come all over my dick if you want to. Naughty girls like you do me real good, and I want to reward you, brat.”

And something about that final word hit all the right spots.

Immediately, your body convulsed in intense waves of orgasms, your thoughts nothing but white-hot flashes. Throwing your head back against the wall, you were left loudly moaning a garbled version of his name into the open air. You were seeing the fucking stars, glimmering and sparkling between blinks like fireworks.

Your insides clamped down so hard that Sukuna could barely hold himself in either. He huffed slowly, relishing in the warmth of your cunt because he was losing his goddamn mind.

“Holy shit,” Sukuna hissed moments later. He stuttered and stilled in the following thrusts, groaning loudly he spilled every single last drop he had into you, your insides suddenly warmer as you welcomed his load.

In the stillness, all you could hear were heavy pants, labored breaths that wildly sought to catch up on both thoughts and air. Utterly spent, Sukuna pulled out but crouched to see just how much cum you took, pressing down on your abdomen and admiring the crawly flood of semen running over your thighs.

“Messy just the way I like it.” He planted a quick kiss right at your exposed pelvis, and your belly tingled from the contact.

“You’re kinkier than I thought.”

“I could the same for you, sweetheart.”

He then stood up to re-dress both you and himself before crashing upon the nearby couch and pulling you on top, wrapping one sturdy arm around your waist.

To say the very least, it was…ironic to be so content and sexually satisfied with someone who irritated you greatly just hours before.

Perhaps you shouldn’t be too harsh on yourself.

You were probably a one-and-done situation for him, given Sukuna’s track record with women. He likely would never be interested in another round with you, so you might as well enjoy this moment while you had it. Which, you guess, was perfect since there should be no further reason to be sexually attracted to him beyond today.

Right?

Glancing up, you had hoped to discuss with Sukuna only to find him already fast asleep.

Whatever, you thought. There was no reason to mull over this and you, therefore, allowed yourself to drift into your own slumber as well.

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babyhailey564 · 1 year

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This story contains a lot of sexual gay content and a bit crass at times. It’s been written for you gay diaper boys out there that crave and sexually get off on diaper humiliation of being forced into diapers or babyhood. I purposely tried to tag quite a few subjects in this story to appeal to a larger audience. Gay ,str8 , DL, AB

This story is about 23 year old jock who’s a AB/DL trying to deal with his emotions and strong desires to be force back into babyhood.

Like many he has little exposure to others in real time meetings and most of his fantasies he’s lived out on his own in his head.

That was all about to change ,way more then he ever imagined while chatting online one day, probably more then he bargained for .

Like most into our scene I spend a lot of time chatting on the Internet with other guys into diapers .

Then one day when I was 23 year old I started chatting with a guy who only lived 40 mins away in a small rural town.

He told me he was married that his wife and sister in law treated him like a baby . Of course I didn’t believe him and thought he had a wild imagination like so many on the internet. Though I liked chatting with him because the treatment he told me he received was what I craving.

He was kind of mysterious, he’d only pop up on my chat once in a blue moon, then just disappear while chatting .

This went on for months us chatting on and off telling each other our fantasies. At least mine where fantasies since I had very little exposure to the real diaper world . .

Then one Saturday morning when I was signed on , he popped up on my chat, telling his wife and sister in law where away for the weekend .

Asking me to come out and visit him . At that point I was so hungry to meet others into diapers, so jumped at the chance and said yes .

I was a bit surprise by his offer because in our last chat together had grown a bit tired by his wild stories and sudden disappearing acts and kind of made fun of him a little bit.

Though I was gay and he was so called straight didn’t really matter I just wanted to meet other diaper guys .

Well he sent me directions to his house in the country to my email .

I headed out to his place about 5 pm in the afternoon ,it took me like 45 mins to get there .

He lived in a old run down farm house in the middle of “no where” .

I got out of my jeep went and knocked on the door .

A good looking guy in his late 20’s answered the door in nothing but a T-shirt and diaper, covered in puffy baby pants

Of course my dick went boing !

Though to say the least I was very….. nervous .

We sat around talking, having some beers, but I couldn’t take my eyes of his diapers wishing it was me.

Jeff seemed like a nice guy, but a bit shy of a full load ,kind of that country simple mentality thing going on .

When he talked I kept hearing banjo’s playing in my head.LOL!

I was slugging down beers trying to dull my nerviness,after I had about 3 beers he suggested we get me diapered.

He took me to a bedroom ,the first thing I spotted was a playpen in the middle of the room and also a huge baby crib.

There was a little single bed in the corner and shelves staked with diapers and plastic pants .

Wow I thought to myself, so he wasn’t lying about his life of being treated like a baby. At that point it occurred to me this was a….. bit weird .

His wife and sister in law really treated him like a baby which made me feel a… bit…. leery .

I probably should have said right then,I got to leave , but my little head down below wanted to be diapered.

Jeff insisted on diapering me ,I’d said never been diapered by anyone before .

So of course I jumped at the chance.

I stripped out of my jeans and boxers and laid on the bed .

He grab 2 very thick cloth diapers ,I had mentioned I had never tried cloth before .He then slipped them under me and powdered the diapers up good.

I laid there with the biggest stiffy in the world ,Jeff smiled and joked saying it looks like you really like this dude!

Then he got pins and pinned my diapers up nice and snug ,he grabbed some clear baby pants and slid them up my legs.

I thought I had gone to heaven and was going to explode right there on the spot in my diapers.

We went back to the living room and had a few more beers , I keep pounding the beers and began feeling no pain , finally relaxing and getting into the whole thing .

It was soooo………. cool just us 2 hanging out in our diapers chatting having some beers.

Then Jeff suggested let’s go play in baby nursery ,we grabbed our beers and headed up to the room .

He talked me into getting in the playpen ,I had never been in a playpen before .

Of course the beer made all my inhibitions disappear.

As I step in and sat down playpen my body actually began to shake a bit ,it felt so “incredible” like this is where I “belonged”.

I had the most raging hard on ,tenting my diapers .

He then grabbed a baby bottle and took my beer and filled the bottle and gave it to me.

Another new experience ,I put it in my lips and began to suck on it ,I thought I died and went to heaven.

He kind of played Daddy and kept teasing me,saying is baby going wet his diapers .

Well after while with all the beers I let go and soaked my diapers ,Jeff was laughing he could see my plastic pants get a big wet yellow spot inside spreading against the front of my diapers . I was a bit drunk but was in baby heaven . .

Then Jeff said he’d be right back ,he needed to get a cold one .Very buzzed on beer I sat there sucking on the baby bottle regressing away in the playpen. Well he returned a few minutes later and walked through the door with a big grin on his face .

Then…… 2 women followed behind him . My jaw dropped to the ground ,there I was sitting in a playpen ,in nothing but soaking wet diapers on,

with a baby bottle in my mouth . I must have looked like a deer in car headlights when I saw them and froze .

One of the women said well ,well, well looks like we have another baby here .

I tried to stand up in the playpen and one of the women said sit down in your playpen baby boy !.

Jeff just standing there with a big smirking grin of amusement on his face .Like SUCKER!

At that point I knew I had been tricked by them all .

Then even worse I had to pee again bad and had no choice but to let go in my diapers in front of them.

They could tell I was wetting and laughed at me saying dam the boy is soaking his diadee’s again.

Then the women talk between themselves about me .

One said to the other, looks like we got a sissy baby on our hands,Jeff adding he likes baby boys too……

The other replied with agreement and said I think we need to teach the boy a good lesson he’ll never forget.

I was mortified at that point and felt trapped and humiliated .

What could I say in my defense? As I sat in the playpen in diapers so soaked from pee they were pudding in the bottom of the plastic pants with a baby bottle in my hands .

Then one of the women walked over and picked up my jeans , felt for my keys and wallet ,she grabs the rest of my clothes too.

She said you re not going anywhere soon baby, so you won’t be needing these and left the room with my clothes.

The other women said you do exactly as your told and be a good baby ,we may let you go tomorrow .

Adding we can’t have drunk baby’s driving on the road at night. with a “Chuckle ”

She looked at me and asked if I was going to be a good baby ,I had little alternative but to say yes .

She replied call me Mommy for now on baby and my sister is Auntie.

I said yes Mommy ,in a broken cracked nervous voice.

Then other one came back in the room and said lets get him into the bathroom and cleaned up.

They took me by the hand and walked me to the bathroom as one of them unpinned my soaking diapers and let them drop on the floor inside my plastic pants. They told me to keep sucking on my baby bottle of beer, if it was not for being so buzzed on beer I probably would have been mortified and tried to fight back.

The tell all was my dick standing out str8 as a flag pole,it was admitting one side of me enjoyed my treatment .

Mommy chuckled in disgust looking at my cock and said some big baby going to loveeee……… this.

Mommy said that hair down below on you baby , it got to go……Baby’s don’t have hair.

I tried to say no pleaseeee ,she slapped me hard on my damp bare bottom saying you’ll do as your told,just suck on that bottle baby!

They ordered me in the bath tube and Mommy grabbed electric trimmers out of the cabinet.

Mommy turn them on and began to shave my hair off down below ,I just stood there feeling totally helpless sucking on my beer to relieve my nervousness ,being stripped of my manhood by total strangers

Auntie commented he’s looking more like a baby by the minute.

She got done trimming all the long hair off down below ,then grabbed a bottle of hair remover .

She put on rubber gloves and began to smear it all over my crotch and legs .

After about 5 mins of a burning feeling on my skin , she turned on the shower and I looked down as my hairy manhood washed away down the drain .

Jeff the whole time is watching from the door with the biggest freaking grin on his face ,like a little kid in a candy store .

I stood there as she dried me off like a baby and then she said, time to get you back in your DIA…..PERS……….baby boy

She lead me back to the baby room as they called it and pushed me down on the changing bed.

The 2 women talked back and forth between themselves ,one telling the other to go get a suppository ,we need to make him feel like a “real” baby.

I kind of made a moaning noise .

Mommy grinned and said don’t worry I have a feeling your going “love” dropping a big messy load in your diapers baby .

Jeff filled us in on all your little baby secrets you told him in online chat.

He also told us you made fun of him too, adding you didn’t believe him ,well after tonight you will be a believer.

You’ll feel like a real tough man filling the butt of your diapers like a baby in front of all of us, chuckling a loud !

Mommy grabbed the baby lotion and smeared it thickly on my groin and butt , the other women returned with the suppository .

Mommy pushed my legs up and lubed my butt and popped the suppository in my hole.

Then grabbed a thick disposable diaper and several soaker pads slipped them under me and taped up the diapers nice and tight.

She grab a pink pair of plastic pants and said pink for SISSY’S and slipped them up my legs .

I had to admit to myself in my drunken state my hair being gone made the diapers feel so soft and wonderful.

There I laid in thick diapers ,thinking I was going to mess my diapers eventually in front of 2 strange women.

They pulled me off the changing bed and put me back in the playpen with Jeff.

Mommy told Auntie to get a baby bottle full of beer and to put something extra in it to make the baby keeps wetting his diapers .

She returned with the baby bottle and shoved it in my mouth,and said suck every last drop down .

They both sat down on the bed and teased me relentlessly as I sucked away on the baby bottle.

Jeff kept ranting the baby is going to mess in his diapers ,laughing at me.

I got almost halfway through the bottle and I felt a rumble in my stomach .

It starting getting worse ,I began to figit moving my butt back and forth.

Jeff squealed to Mommy he’s going to mess in his diapers sounding like a child telling on a sibling.

I felt like a 2 year old at that point ,trying to hold it back ,Mommy saying is baby going to make a mes….sy in his diapers.

They could tell from the look of agony on my face and I had stopped sucking on the bottle .

Then with no control my ass started exploding over and over in the seat of my diapers.

I made a moaning whimpering noise each time my butt muscles pumped out another spurt of the warm goo.

With each spurt in the seat of my diapers I felt like my body was shrinking smaller and smaller.

Mommy ordered me to stand up and she walked over to the playpen ,she rubbed and patted hard my butt and said wow baby made a BIG….. messy in his diapers,didn’t you ?

I felt myself sinking even further into Babyhood replying yes in shame.

She said well you can sit in them for awhile and think about what a big baby you are .

Eventually I had to pee and added to the mess soaking my diapers .

Then Mommy said it’s time for your special bottle sissy baby. She looked at Jeff and said show him .

Jeff reached into his diapers and pulled out his dick and said here’s your bottle baby . Mommy pushed me towards Jeffs dick and said suck on the bottle baby.

I hesitated but had no choice and was in not position to argue .I slowly put my lips on Jeff’s dick.

Mommy pushed the back of my head to take in every last inch , his crotch stunk of urine and could feel his wet diaper hitting my chin.

The women teased me and kept saying what a big diaper sissy I was and said I bet you love Jeff’s baby bottle.

There I was in big messy diapers sucking on another diaper boys dick,with 2 strange women as a audience

I kept sucking and Mommy kept pushing my head faster and faster .

Jeff finally said Mommy I’m going to cum…. ,she said give the sissy baby your milk and she pushed my head hard into his crotch ,so his dick jammed down throat.

I felt his warm pulsating load shoot down my throat.

The women just laughed and force me to tell them I loved sucking Jeff’s bottle.

I said with tears in my eye I loved Jeff’s Baby Bottle .

Mommy said wait until we let baby Jeff plug your diapered rosebud with his baby bottle.

Eventually they took me into the bathroom got me all cleaned up then put thick clean diapers and plastic pants on me .

Then put me in a big baby crib and locked my wrists to leather cuffs in the crib .

One of them came in the room with a baby bottle full of milk ,she walked over to me and had a pill in her fingers.

She pryed my mouth open and said take this , it will help you sleep, then shoved it in my mouth and jammed the baby bottle in my lips

She forced me to drink the milk,while talking down to me like I was a little baby.

Mommy looked over and said to her sister don’t you think we should give him another suppository .

Her sister said with excitement defiantly ! He’ll wake up feeling like a’’ REAL’’ baby in the morning with messy wet diapers.

They pulled down the side of the crib pushed me on my side and one yanked down the back of my diapers and the other slipped the big pill in my butt.

They pulled my diapers and plastic pants up fast and made me finished the milk .

I was getting real drowsy at that point and could barely keep my eyes open between the effects of all the beer and the sleeping pill.

The last thing I remember was the light being turned off and hearing sweet dreams baby .

I woke in the morning feeling groggy and very disoriented,with a hang over .

I finely focused my eyes , where I was and what was happening to me started to creep back into my mind.

Though a lot of blanks do to being drunk last night

I could feel my diapers were soaked and there was a warm mess in the back of my diapers .

I try to reach down and feel my diapers but my wrists were strapped to the crib bars at my sides.

There was a sense of panic in me like WTF!

I had no idea what came over me I began to cry l in silence to myself out of frastration.

I think because I felt like such a baby lying there helpless in a crib in messy,wet diapers,I had “no” recollection of wetting or messing during that night or exactly how I ended up bound in the crib.

Then I heard the door open, it was Mommy and Jeff .

Mommy walked over to me and could see the tears running down my face. Seeing their faces made more of what happened last night in my drunken state coming back to me .

Talking to me like a 2 year old she said is baby crying because he messed his diapers last night ,I motioned my head up and down to say yes.

She said it’s ok that’s what baby’s do at night ,adding “GET USE TO IT” .

Get use to it I thought in my puzzled hung over mind ?

Mommy released me from the leather handcuffs and put down the side of the crib and got me out .

I waddled as I walked from my heavily soaked and loaded diapers.

Mommy said your having trouble walking you better crawl like a baby and forced me down on all 4’s and stuck a pacifier in my mouth.

At that point I totally lost it , I was a bit disoriented ,half awake and hung over. Acting like a baby was the easy thing to do at that point ,to think of anything else made my head hurt

I let go of ever last ounce of adulthood left in my body and mind . What else could I do at that point but to let go ,crawling in loaded messy diapers on all 4’s with no choice.

Jeff kept repeating to Mommy he’s a “BIG” time baby . Mommy replied he sure is , he was very ‘easy’ to break down.

With a big strong muscular body like his, he could have easily over powered us and gotten away if he really wanted to, but look at him now crawling on all 4’s in his big messy baby diapers . Saying in a devious voice I think you found us a keeper this time Jeff .

Hearing that gave me a pit in my stomach ,thinking to myself found a keeper ?

Jeff said to Mommy he told me in chat online he wanted to be treated like a real baby ,giggling ! I thought Damm………. I did , I thought to myself I told him my ultimate fantasy was to be forced back into babyhood .

They made me crawl down to the kitchen and put me in a highchair and strapped me in tieing a sesame street baby bib on me.

Her sister walked in and said it smells like some baby did a big mess in his diapers last night,I kind of hung my head.

Mommy made me oatmeal ,I sat there being spoon fed like a baby why the others ate like adults ,making me eat every last drop.

Eventually they got me out of the high chair and took me to the bathroom and got me cleaned up.

I was so happy my messy diapers were getting very….. uncomfortable.

Then lead me back to the baby room and on the changing table for thick disposable diapers and plastic pants .

Mommy said to Jeff it’s time to have fun with the baby’s rosebud ,Jeff eyes lit up .

It did not compute what she said in my foggy disoriented hung over mind of confusion,thinking what’s a rosebud ?

They took me over to the crib ,got me up into it and forced me to lay on my stomach.

I heard snap ,snap on both arms and my legs before I could even realized what was happening

They used straps to spread eagle my body face down and shoved a big baby pacifier in my mouth that had straps come around my head lock it in place .

I was scared shitless at this point WTF is happening? .

They yanked down the back of my diapers to expose my hole .

Jeff stripped out of his sweat pants and let them drop to the floor to expose his shave crotch with a big stiffy.

Then it all computed my rosebud ,Holly shit I’m going to get fucked !

I panicked and tried yelling through my huge pacifier ,all of it came out as muffled.

I heard Mommy say calm down you going to really enjoy this sissy boy!

I was gay but never let anyone penetrate me before .

He then got up on top of me , lubed my butt hole and then I could feel the tip of Jeff’s dick pushing in my butt hole.

Mommy and her sister said give the sissy baby what he what he wants .

At first it really hurt,trying to pull on my restraints to get free ,then the pain slowly subsided and began to feel better.

Jeff started pumping away in me like a little kid on a big toy rocking horse on crack, saying baby’s rosebud feels so good….

Jeff kept pumping away and to my total embarrassment and more humiliation I started to moan in uncontrolled ecstasy forgetting the circumstances this was happening under.

The women cheering for Jeff and laughing at me at getting boned in my diapers .

Then Jeff started pumping my hole harder and I could feel him stiffen up and then he shot his load in my butt saying Mommy I’m cumming .

As he exploded deep inside me, I let out a “LOUD” moan through the big pacifier.

My head was turned toward the women and I could see the great amusement on there faces.

Mommy commenting to Auntie I wish I moaned like that when I got laid by a man ,I think the baby just had a butt orgasm

Jeff finally got off of me and got out of the crib. They release me from my bonds ,I rolled over and discovered to further humiliation I was rock hard.

My diapers and plastic pants were over stretched like a pup tent from my hard on .

The women spotted it and said looks like baby really enjoy his rosebud being popped !

Mommy said we better take care of the baby’s little pee pee.

Mommy came over and began to massage my dick through my plastic pants and diapers ,I began to moan,then she stopped .

She Grabbed a life size teddy bear laying on the floor and placed it in the crib and instructed me to roll on top of it and hump my diapers like a good baby

I was so f….ing horny to get off I’d do anything at that point .

Embarrassed and humiliated as I was I began to hump the big life size bear in my diapers for relief.

The crinkle of my diapers ,crib mattress cover sent me into a humping frenzy ecstasy .

They then made me say out loud ’ I’m a baby’ as I humped away .

Mumbling I’m a baby over and over through my pacifier. I was GONE……… ,totally disconnected from reality humping away in baby land.

Only focusing in how good my dick felt in my thick soft diapers felt against my smooth dick .

Then Jeff blurt out, someone sure………. loves beinging a baby braking me out of my frenzy !

Huh Jeff barked at me? I mumbled I ’m a baby ,he replied I can’t hear you and instructed me to look up at him and say it

I said loud as I could through the pacifier I ’m a baby , turning my head to look up at Jeff only to see the lens of a video camera ,thinking ooooh….. shit there filming me, but it was to late I was already over the edge of no return .

Violently exploding with the most intense orgasm of my life Screaming into the camera I’m a BABY. I felt like I was pissing gallons of cum in my diapers moaning over and over I’m a baby, baby, baby through the pacifier.

I laid there exhausted my body shuttering,breathing hard for a minute saying quietly to myself “ I’m a baby” as I tried to gather me thoughts. As though I finally was admitting it to myself, I loved babyhood and conceding to it.

Mommy heard me and said you sure are one big baby. You just proved to us, you LOVE….. being a baby .

Mommy looked at Jeff and said did you record all of that ,he said I got every single second of it on video.

She said good with that video he’s going to be very cooperative in the future.

When every I fantasized on my own and got off ,right afterwards I snapped back to adult reality .Well that was not the case this time it made me feel even more infantile . The fact it happened as they all watched and filmed me getting off in baby ecstasy ,now diapers and babyhood made me feel even more helpless and very vulnerable to them.

Since they now held the keys to my biggest secret in my life and were my keepers if they so chose.

Totally emotionally exhausted ,I conceded to my new babyhood and loss of reality .

I endured even more baby treatment that day. Finally being put in super thick layered disposable diapers and old pair of nursery print plastic pants along with a suppository in my butt.

They gave me my clothes back ,I could barely button my jeans and my zipper was jammed open on the diapers they were so bulky .

Leaving my midsection all bulging out ,diapers sticking out of the waist and teddy bear baby pants exposed .

I tried to fix my zipper but Mommy slapped my hand and said leave it alone,then she yanked on it to jam it even more.

Mommy commenting I hope you got enough gas to get home because the whole world will know what a baby you are, if you get out of your car .

They walked me to my car ,me waddling like a 2 year old from the thick diapers and said we’ll expect you next Friday night baby and plan to spend a weekend here.

Remember we have all your information written down from your wallet and know where to find you

Not to forget to mention your first family home baby video .

I drove off in my car feeling totally emotionally drained bound in thick bulky baby diapers ,feeling like a 2 yrs old driving down the street .

#gay diaper

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moonchildreads · 6 months

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small town

Chapter 23 - Cum on Feel the Noize

IN THIS CHAPTER: Yearbook messages, unlikely friendships, and Corroded Coffin puts on a show [13.8k]

WARNINGS: mentions of dead parents (eddie's mom), child neglect (not very graphic, eddie as kid), underaged drinking (no one gets drunk), low self-worth

A/N: i know. i promise you, i know. but i did say i was never gonna abandon this fic, so if you didn't believe me, that's on you, buddy. blame my job for my two month absence - three new people joined my team and one of those left last week, it's been hectic. this is an extra long chapter as a sorry for making you wait for so long. i hope you are all okay and still interested in my dumb little story, we have a lot more to go before we say goodbye. <3 (btw lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist!)

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

Girls, rock your boys We’ll get wild, wild, wild

Monday, June 9th - 1986

The last Monday before graduation was Kyle Foster’s most anticipated day of the year; not because it meant that school attendance was officially an afterthought for most of the school’s population, but because it was the day the overpriced yearbooks he had been working on all these months were ready to be picked up, their pages waiting to be filled with doodles in colorful pens and silly stickers. He was particularly proud of this year’s edition, with its green leatherette hardback cover and bright photos printed in glossy paper, everything on them carefully arranged by the Yearbook Club with evident care and love for their craft. For a few hours, Kyle got to feel like he was hot shit. Teachers congratulated him and his fellow club members for their wonderful work, people he’d never talked to before in his life asked him to sign their yearbooks, and the basketball team kept patting his back in the hallways in between classes to thank him for the double spread with pictures of them lifting their championship trophy. Life was good, but even though he was enjoying his surely short-lived popularity, there was only one person Kyle was particularly looking forward to seeing. As faith would have it, he found that exact guy leaning against his locker waiting for him between third and fourth period, a yearbook under his arm and a piece of minty gum in his mouth.

“Hey, man,” Eddie greeted, pulling him into a bro-ey side hug that didn’t suit his personality in the slightest. “Nice work.”

“What’s up, Munson? Heard you’re finally leaving this place.”

“Yeah, about damn time,” the tall metalhead laughed, and Kyle thought he’d never seen him carry himself with such levity before. “Wanted to thank you, y’know? I mean, I know I kinda bribed you to do it but you came through for us and went above and beyond with the design and everything, so, thank you.”

“Ah, it was nothing, dude. Couldn’t ruin the yearbook by giving your club a shitty spread,” Kyle downplayed his work, but they both knew he had enjoyed the secret assignment.

“Well, then. Would the artist care to sign his masterpiece?” Eddie joked, extending his yearbook to Kyle with a jet black pen tucked into it.

Kyle nodded, surprised by the request, and went straight to the blank pages at the back. From what he could see, no one had signed it yet. He realized then this was Eddie giving him a definitive olive branch, whatever feud they’d had over his little debt more than ready to be buried in the sand and thoroughly forgotten. He quickly penned a generic “have a good summer!” message at the top corner, slowing down while writing his name when he felt Eddie’s hand slip something into his front jean pocket. Ah, there it is, Kyle thought, smiling to himself as the weight of the small weed baggie Eddie had promised in exchange for his rule breaking could be felt through the rough fabric. He gave the book back to his newest acquaintance before opening his messenger bag and retrieving his own, shocking Eddie with his silent offering. Kyle was not only accepting his olive branch but returning the gesture, and so Eddie signed his name in a little unoccupied corner, adding a smiley face with devil horns under it for good measure.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Foster,” he said genuinely, tucking his trusty pen into his back pocket.

“Likewise, Munson.”

“We look so fucking badass,” Gareth said, eyes stuck to himself holding a knight’s helmet under his arm in the Hellfire section of the yearbook.

“I know, right?” Jeff said, giddy. “Kinda wanna get it framed. You think they’ll give us copies if we ask?”

The Hellfire Club was enjoying a peaceful lunch outside, the day still perfectly warm despite the constant clouds that perpetually obscured the sky over Hawkins, Indiana. The older boys were doodling on each other’s yearbooks, laughing about bad portraits and accidental funny faces belonging to classmates, while Dustin and Mike quietly muttered to one another at the head of the picnic table. They looked like they were arguing about something important but no one else seemed to have noticed - if they did, they were giving them space to resolve it on their own. Pretending like she wasn’t eavesdropping while she wrote a heartfelt message in Donny’s yearbook, Dottie listened carefully, worried about Dustin who seemed to be particularly distraught at Mike’s disinterest in cooperating with him.

“I’m just saying, aren’t you tired of acting like you’re still upset with him?” Dustin asked.

“I’m not acting, I am pissed off,” Mike huffed. “I don’t get why you aren’t. He cut us off and he’s never coming back, get it through your head.”

“Well, maybe he feels like we cut him off. Have you even tried talking to him since Spring break?”

“No, why would I?”

“Mike,” Dustin was nearing his breaking point.

“What? Did you?”

“Yes!” he threw his hands in the air. “I called him the next day because I’m not an asshole!”

“If you talked to him, why isn’t he here then, huh?” Mike asked, icy. “Why is he still hanging out with them?”

“I said I called him, not that I talked to him,” Dustin grumbled. “He wasn’t home, he… he was at a party with the jocks- Look, all I’m saying is that I feel like shit, okay? I think we’re all being idiots right now and we should talk about it. This is just like what happened when we found El and-”

“This is nothing like what happened with El. He was just scared-”

“We were twelve, Mike. We didn’t know what we were doing, maybe- maybe he was right and we should have been scared! And maybe he shouldn’t have to be the one to always apologize first!”

“He ditched us!”

“Oh, grow up,” Dustin said, getting up from the bench with his yearbook in hand and hurrying to catch up with a redheaded girl who looked about his age.

Dottie watched how Mike gathered his things and disappeared into the cafeteria without saying goodbye, giving off moody teenager vibes to anyone who dared to cross his path. Meanwhile, Dustin was now animatedly chatting with his mystery friend near the doors - the girl he was talking to was signing his book and rolling her eyes at something he was saying, a shy but still clearly fond smile on her face. Dottie felt like she’d seen her before somewhere, but never talking to Dustin. She seemed nice, if a little sassy. I guess that’s why she’s friends with Dustin, she thought.

“Really? You got him a sweater? In June?” Jeff’s laughter brought back her attention to the table: she quickly doodled a little daisy next to her name at the bottom of her message and gave the yearbook back to Donny.

“He’s always wearing sweaters at the office, okay? And also, it’s not like he’s gonna grow two sizes before Winter starts,” Gareth defended himself. “It’s still gonna fit him in a couple of months.”

“What are we talking about?” Dottie asked, leaning her head onto Eddie’s shoulder as he stole one of her apple slices.

“Father’s Day. Gareth got his Dad a wool sweater.”

“It was on sale!”

“What did you get for your dad, then?” she asked Jeff.

“New slippers. His old ones were falling apart.”

“Very thoughtful. You?” she turned to Donny.

“Nothing yet. I kinda wanna get my Dad a funny shirt but I haven’t seen any good ones around. D’you think it’s too late to get one printed?” he asked at large.

“Oh, Eddie bought a cute one the other day!” Dottie said conversationally, looking up at the long haired boy from her place on his shoulder. “They had a bunch of graphic shirts at that store near Melvald’s, right?”

“On Mulberry? Sweet, what did you get?” Donny asked, munching on some grapes.

“Found this ugly thing with a brown Care Bear at the front that says World’s Best Grandma,” Eddie said, half a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “Thought it was funny.”

“You’re gonna get your teeth kicked in if you wear a Care Bears shirt in public, dude,” Gareth snickered.

“Well, good thing I’m not gonna be the one wearing it then.”

Father’s Day was historically somewhat of a weird day for Eddie. When he was a little kid and still hadn’t developed a mouth filter, other moms at the park or strangers at a store would sometimes see him wandering around unsupervised, think he was lost, and ask him where his Mom was; he’d always reply with a simple “oh, no, my Mom is dead”, like the answer wasn’t absolutely devastating to hear coming from someone who hadn’t learned how to tie his own shoes yet. Like clockwork, they’d all sputter out an awkward apology, feeling sorry about unknowingly asking a young child about something so painful like losing a parent at such a tender age. A couple of times some of them went so far as to offer to buy him a snack, as if that could distract him from the tragedy of his Mom’s untimely death and, in turn, make themselves feel better about being nosy. Eddie, however, didn’t mind the questions. He liked telling people that Maureen was dead, because he learned very quickly that those were the only times people saw him as someone to take care of; just a little innocent boy having to grow up without the woman who’d loved him most, instead of shunning him as soon they inevitably found out he was Wyatt Munson’s devil spawn.

Another thing Eddie learned very early on, was that his Dad didn’t care about Father’s Day, mainly because most of the time he didn’t even care to acknowledge he had a son unless it was useful to him. And so, after the second year in a row Wyatt threw into the trash can the crafts Eddie had done for him at school without so much as looking at them, the drawings stayed in his backpack and the treats the teachers gave to all their kiddos to gift to the most important men in their lives got hidden in an old shoe box underneath his bed. There they waited until the older man passed out on his couch with a beer in his hand, and the littlest Munson got to eat them in secret without anyone calling him a pig for smearing chocolate all over his face and fingers. No, Father’s Day had always been a weird day for Eddie - at least until he moved in with Wayne.

The first Father’s Day Wayne and Eddie spent together came after almost eight months of living together. There had been a Halloween, a Thanksgiving, a Christmas, Eddie’s 9th birthday, and a Mother’s Day spent along with Grandma before that, but Eddie’s little stomach still churned with the thought of Wayne dismissing him on a special occasion like Father’s Day. He quietly waited in bed after the sun rose, ears perked up for any noise coming from the living room but the minutes ticked by and Wayne didn’t get up, busy catching up on some much needed sleep after a long week at the plant. The youngest Munson impatiently crept along the hallway until he reached his Uncle’s side, kneeling on the carpet next to his fold-out bed and observing his chest go up and down with each breath he took.

“Uncle Wayne,” Eddie whispered, but the older man didn’t so much as flinch. “Uncle Wayne,” he tried a little louder, softly shaking his arm.

“Huh?” Wayne opened his eyes, startled to find his nephew’s tiny fingers wrapped around his forearm. “What’s going on? You okay, Ed?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, wild curls bobbing along with the movement. “I- I made something. At school.”

“Yeah? What d’you got there?”

Eddie lifted a piece of paper, the sun filtering through the moth-eaten curtains helping Wayne read along. Happy Father’s Day, said the handmade card written by a teacher and decorated by his nephew, each letter colored inside with a different crayon. Wayne’s heart sank when he realized he’d forgotten what day it was. He didn’t even know which hole Wyatt was currently being kept in, but he guessed he could call his Ma and ask her about it if Eddie wanted to pay his Dad a visit. Or at the very least, he could take the kid to the post office to mail his shitty excuse of a father a letter he most likely didn’t give a damn about. Wyatt hadn’t called once since he’d gotten himself locked up, and Wayne tried not to think too much about Eddie stiffening up whenever the phone rang when he first moved into the trailer with him. He didn’t want to do it, didn’t want to have jackshit to do with his little brother anymore but he’d do it anyway even if he knew it was a bad idea, because Wayne Munson would have walked barefoot to the end of the world if it made Eddie happy, and God only knew that that boy deserved a small mercy for once.

Wayne peeled the card open curiously and felt his chest tighten up when he saw how wrong he’d been. Inside there was a crude drawing of two figures, one bigger than the other one: it was him and Eddie, standing on bright green grass, a big yellow sun with a smiley face at the upper left corner of the page, and a tree with juicy red apples to the right side. The figures were holding hands and Wayne was wearing a trucker hat - the same blue one that was resting on the kitchen counter next to his keys. At the bottom right of the card, written with the nicest calligraphy Wayne had seen from his nephew yet, was a simple I love you in purple crayon.

“You drew this for me?” Wayne asked, trying to get his emotions together.

“D’you like it? Miss Mullins gave us Hershey’s Kisses too,” he lifted a little paper bag that looked like it had been squished in transit. “I’m sorry I ate one without asking. I wanted to know what they tasted like, but I can buy you more! I have money left over from my birthday-”

“That’s okay, Ed. You can have as many as you want if you brush your teeth after,” the eldest Munson sat up tiredly and pulled his boy from the floor into a hug. “Thank you for the card. You’re very good at drawing, y’know that?”

“Miss Mullins says I’m good at art and music,” Eddie beamed. “And sometimes Math too but I get distracted. She says my reading’s not very good though.”

“You’re a smart boy, just keep practicin’ and you’ll get better,” Wayne said, feeling his nephew’s body sink into his arms the longer he held him. “Hey, how ‘bout you go get ready while I take a shower, huh? We can go get pancakes at Benny’s.”

“Really? Can I get whipped cream on mine? And chocolate chips?”

“You can get whatever you want, boy. Go on, go get dressed,” the older man ushered him down the hallway towards what used to be his bedroom and locked himself in the bathroom for a little privacy.

Wayne cried in the shower that day, much like he’d done after Thanksgiving dinner, when Eddie said he was thankful he got to live with him, even if it was just for a little bit. He got Wyatt to sign away his parental rights before Christmas came around after that. Wayne stuck the card to the fridge door with a carrot shaped magnet and drove himself and his nephew to Benny’s where Eddie ordered chocolate chip banana pancakes that Wayne ended up eating half of after the 9-year-old’s tummy became too full to keep going. Upon returning home, they spent the rest of the day watching cartoons and practicing Eddie’s reading during the commercials. When the littlest Munson fell asleep on the couch after the sun had set, his energy finally depleted, Wayne helped him put on his pajamas and tucked him to bed, stopping to kiss his curly head before he retreated back to the living room for a nightcap.

“Good night, son,” he’d said, turning off the lights, and for once, Eddie didn’t go to sleep wishing he was Wayne’s, because he knew he was and Wayne knew it too.

“You got Wayne a World’s Best Grandma shirt for Father’s Day?” Donny said, amused. “He’s gonna think you knocked someone up.”

“Of course not,” Eddie scoffed at him like he’d just said the stupidest thing ever. “He’d think I knocked someone up if it said World’s Best Grandpa, but it doesn’t say that, does it? Therefore, funny shirt.”

“You were there with him and you let him buy it?” Jeff looked at Dottie, whose cheeks felt like they were burning upon remembering Wayne’s resigned attempt at a Birds and The Bees talk two weekends prior.

“I… I thought it was funny too,” she admitted sheepishly.

“You two are spending way too much time together,” Gareth shook his head. “When did you even go shopping?”

“Last week after band practice,” Dottie said, mischief in her eyes. “Don’t tell my Dad if you see him because I told him I was at yours all afternoon so he wouldn’t snoop around and find his gift.”

“What did you get him?” Donny asked.

“A bunch of candy and a book. The guy at the store recommended it, he said it was pretty new. It’s called Ender’s Game, I think?”

“Oh, I read that one,” Jeff said, frowning.

“What, is it bad?”

“No, I think your Dad might like it," he shrugged. "But you know me, I don't like military shit.”

“How could we forget about you being Mr. Pacifist,” Gareth poked fun at him goodnaturedly and Jeff shoved him gently in return.

“Hey, speaking of band practice,” Eddie said, lips curling upwards as he leaned into Dottie’s personal space. “You think your Dad's gonna let you come to The Hideout tomorrow?”

“On a school night? Keep dreaming.”

“Oh, come on, no one’s even taking attendance anymore,” he pressed on.

“I’m pretty sure Mr. Russell took a nap in class today,” Gareth said, spreading a rumor he’d heard about the old Algebra teacher.

“He did. I was there, I heard him snore,” Donny nodded.

“There you go, darling. Not even the teachers give a shit anymore. So, what do you say?" Eddie batted his eyelashes dramatically.

"You know I wanna go, I just don't think he's gonna let me. Can't you wait one more week? He promised I won’t have a curfew anymore after graduation," she bargained.

"You say that like you don’t already know we’re gonna ask you to come next week too," Gareth said, grinning. “Besides, what kind of manager are you if you don’t come to all our shows?”

“Wasn’t aware I had signed any official contracts. Do I get health insurance?” Dottie joked.

“You get one box of kiddie bandages and we’ll drive you to the hospital if and only if any bones stick out,” Donny said.

“Wow, what a deal. I’m in,” she laughed.

“You’re gonna come then?” they all looked at her expectantly.

“Alright, fine, I’ll ask him. But if he says no you aren’t allowed to be mad at me because it’s definitely not my fault,” she finally relented.

“If he locks you up we’ll help you escape the tower, princess, don’t worry about it,” Eddie said, his breath ghosting the side of her head, and she shivered in anticipation for the new adventure that was to come.

James working past the time Hawkins High School let its students out had proven to be heaven-sent to the new couple looking for places to hang out without any prying eyes around. Eddie and Dottie were lying on her bed, hiding away from the world in her room, the radio on at a low volume playing Top 40 hits. Van Halen’s Why Can’t This Be Love was setting the perfect mood for Eddie to kiss his not-yet-girlfriend stupid - their movements still shy and exploring, neither of them rushing to get ahead of themselves. In recent days, they had progressed from chaste and giggly pecks to something much more slow and romantic, making the most of their moments alone to make each other feel comfortable and loved. Eddie hovered over her, tummy pressed against Dottie’s while supporting most of his weight on his elbows, his hands free to gently caress her cheekbones and jaw between kisses, stopping every so often to look at her dazed smile if only to will himself to believe that the girl he was so in love with was as equally smitten with him as he was with her.

Dottie let her fingers wander up his arms, one of her hands tangling in his unruly hair and occasionally pushing stray curls behind his ears to get a glimpse of those deep chocolate colored eyes she adored so much. Her other arm sneaked into his t-shirt sleeve, nails drawing barely-there patterns on the back of his shoulder, making him hum like the stray cats at the trailer park when they let him pet them after being fed. The delicate white curtains swayed calmly, brushing against the pillows in the windowsill, the gentle breeze outside rustling the leaves in nearby trees. Everything felt so peaceful, warm, and cozy. She felt like she could spend an entire lifetime like this, with the boy that had swept her off her feet so thoroughly that she almost felt like she was floating whenever he was around.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” Eddie asked in a soft voice, index finger brushing down the slope of her nose.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Mhm,” she smiled, fondly. “You’re so pretty.”

“You’re pretty. Beautiful. Gorgeous even,” he lifted his eyebrows and pouted, making her giggle at his antics. “I wanted to play a song for you tomorrow but the guys said it didn’t fit with the rest of the setlist.”

“Which song was it?”

“Nope,” he shook his head, curls tickling her. “I’m not telling you. We’ll play it in Indy.”

“I have to wait a whole month? That’s so rude!”

“It’ll be worth it, you’ll see,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss her again, and she accepted his love eagerly.

The low rumble of a car pulling into the driveway burst their cozy bubble, Eddie groaning as his head fell forward onto Dottie’s shoulder, making her snort loudly. He scrambled off her bed and dropped himself on her desk chair, fingers dancing on top of her scented Mr. Sketch markers before settling on the brown one and lifting it up to his nose to smell the cinnamon embedded in the ink. She watched him with an oddly enamored smile on her face, like him sniffing her stationery supplies was the most charming thing she’d seen him do yet. He twirled a marker between his fingers before drumming with it once on her yearbook resting unassumingly on her desk.

“Can I draw something for you in here?” he asked, tapping the hardcover again with the cap of the marker.

“Can I write something sappy in yours in exchange?”

“Knock yourself out, darling,” Eddie smiled, pulling his yearbook out of his ratty backpack and tossing it onto her bed where it made a soft thud upon colliding with her comforter.

When James climbed up the stairs to greet his daughter after a long day at work, he found both teens deeply engrossed in their tasks: Eddie’s long hair was draped like a curtain obscuring his sketch from view as he worked steadily with his chewed up pencil while Dottie was lying on her front decorating a corner of a page with her colorful pens. James leaned onto the door frame when she looked up, gifting him the same smile she used to give him as a toddler when he picked her up from daycare.

“Yearbooks are out?” the eldest Burke asked, nodding towards the book in her hands.

“Yeah! Ed’s drawing in mine but look, we got a full page!” Dottie said, rising onto her knees to show him Hellfire’s spread.

James sat at the foot of her bed, glancing at the glossy pictures in front of him. He couldn’t recall Dottie being so excited about a yearbook before, but he supposed she’d never really been a part of any club at her old school and this was an important first for her. There was Dustin front and center, arms and legs bent like a lifeless puppet being held by strings, Erica’s hand poised in the air as if she was the one controlling him while Mike and Gareth lifted her up in a princess-like manner, a tiara glinting on her head and a school flag draping down her back. Jeff and Donny scowled at each other dramatically, engaged in a lethal fight that Jeff was clearly winning, his sword pressed to the middle of Donny’s golden scepter. But it was his own daughter and the boy that kept smelling markers before he put them to paper a few feet away from him that really caught his attention.

Eddie lounged on his throne with a fake skull in his hand, rings twinkling in the room’s moody light, and legs spread out like he was a despot king about to order someone’s head to be cut off. Dottie stared at the camera with a mischievous smirk, hands cradled around a crystal orb, looking like she knew something no one else did and was more than ready to drop a cryptic riddle that would ruin your entire life. They were playing characters, just like everyone else in the picture: Mike was the loyal knight, Dustin was the terrifying jester, Erica was the bratty princess. Except Eddie’s arm was curled around Dottie like she was his most prized possession, devotion noticeable in his seemingly innocent posture. He might have been the one sitting on the throne and she on the chair’s arm as his trusty advisor, but it was very much clear to anyone that stopped to truly look at them that even though he was the King, she had him wrapped around her finger. It shouldn’t have been a surprise - after all, since 1953 the song did say God save the Queen, not the King.

“It looks super cool, right?” Dottie asked, eyes shining. “Jeff wants to ask the Yearbook Club if we can get copies, I’d love to put one on my corkboard.”

“That sounds great, honey! It’s very theatrical,” James agreed, scanning down the list of names: Edward Munson - Chapter Leader, Donatello Andrea Vitale - Treasurer, Jeffrey Thomas Patton - Secretary… “Who’s Lucas?”

“Huh?”

“Lucas Charles Sinclair?” he asked. “His name is on the list but I don’t see him in the photo.”

“Oh, that’s Erica’s brother. He was in the club before I joined, right, Ed?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, lips tight. “He, uh- he quit before Spring break. Conflicting schedules.”

“Ah, that’s a bummer,” James nodded, knowing first hand how scheduling was the greatest enemy of a D&D party. “Why isn’t Erica on the list though?”

“She’s still in middle school so she’s not, like, entirely allowed to be in the club actually?” Dottie grimaced. “But Eddie thought she should at least be in the picture. I mean, I’m there and she’s known these guys for longer than I do.”

“She only joined a couple of weeks before you did,” Eddie shrugged. “But a member is a member, no matter when they joined.”

“Spoken like a true leader,” James smiled, flipping the pages to find the senior portraits.

He reached the B section and immediately found his daughter, her red knitted sweater barely visible, the picture cutting off just below her shoulders. She was smiling in it, yes, but she didn’t really look happy. She seemed nervous, perhaps even a bit apprehensive. Her eyes were dull despite the bright lights behind the camera, and the little dimple below the right corner of her lip that she’d inherited from her Mom was nowhere to be found. In comparison with the wicked witch that had been staring at him in the Hellfire Club’s group photo, this girl looked like a shell of herself. Empty. Lost. Scared. Two months had passed between the two pictures, and one more since the last one had been taken, and James realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her glow as much as she did every day now. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he looked at her and wondered why he hadn’t done anything to prevent her light from dimming so much right in front of him. Bitterly, he realized the proper question wasn’t why he hadn’t done anything, but instead why hadn’t he ever noticed it had been dimmed in the first place up until that moment.

“I’m so proud of you, honey,” he muttered, pulling her into a hug and letting out a heavy sigh courtesy of his own inadequacies as a parent.

“You’re not gonna cry, are you? Because you’re gonna make me cry if you cry,” she said in a joking manner, tears already threatening to climb up to the surface.

“You’re just really big now and it sneaks up on me sometimes, that’s all. I’m getting emotional in my old age,” he laughed, turning back the pages to Hellfire Dottie - the happier Dottie. “Your hair looks really pretty like this.”

“Yeah. Feels more me, I think,” Dottie agreed. “I need to get the ends trimmed before graduation, though.”

“If it keeps getting shorter I’m afraid you’re gonna end up bald soon.”

“I’ll go to a salon this time, promise,” she laughed.

“Still can’t believe you just-” James did a cutting gesture with his index and middle fingers. “-went to town on it.”

“Wait, what? You chopped off your own hair? When?” Eddie asked curiously, reminding them both that he was listening to their conversation.

“I thought you knew about this!” Dottie said. “I had really long hair back in New York.”

“It reached the top of her jeans,” James added.

“No way! Why did you cut it?”

“I just needed a fresh start, y’know? New school, new haircut. It wasn’t that big of a deal,” she shrugged.

“Honey, you snipped it all off at the first gas station we stopped at on our way from New York. Almost gave me a heart attack when you came out of that bathroom.”

“You’re kidding,” Eddie stared at her in disbelief.

“Nope,” said James. “Had to take her to a hairdresser to even it out as soon as we got here.”

“In my defense, it didn’t look that bad. It was just… very layered,” Dottie said.

“You’re lucky you chickened out and didn’t cut it shorter or you’d be looking like a boy right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it, I’m not a hair stylist. I’ll stay away from scissors and let the pros handle it next time,” she rolled her eyes at her Dad.

“Well, I’m gonna go get a shower,” James announced, returning Eddie’s yearbook to his daughter. “You staying for dinner, Ed?”

“No, thank you, sir, Wayne’s waiting for me. Just gotta finish this drawing and I’ll be out of your hair for the night,” Eddie said, lifting the book in his hands as if to demonstrate he wasn’t just wasting time.

“You’re never a bother, kid. You can stay as long as you’d like.”

“T-thank you, sir,” he said in a small voice when James walked past him and ruffled his hair affectionately as he left.

“Dad? Wait, hold up-”

Dottie launched herself into the hallway and caught up to her Dad when he was halfway through his bedroom door. She nervously looked up at him and James lifted an eyebrow, curious.

“Would it be okay if I went to The Hideout to see the guys play tomorrow?” she asked, chewing on her own lip.

“Honey, it’s a school night-”

“I know but the teachers aren’t even taking attendance anymore. And I swear I’m not gonna skip the next day! Please, I’ll be back before midnight.”

“Dot-”

“You know Jeff’s dad wouldn’t let him do it if he was coming back home at 3 am every week on school nights. Please let me go? I really, really, really wanna see them play.”

“Would you be riding with Eddie?” James sighed.

“Yeah, he’s Gareth’s ride. His drum kit doesn’t fit in Donny’s car.”

“Okay, you can go-”

“Thank you!”

“-but! You gotta be back by midnight, okay?” he said, stern. “I don’t care if the teachers aren’t doing their jobs anymore, school’s not out until Friday. You’re not on holiday yet.”

“I know, I won’t break the curfew, I promise-”

“And you can’t drink any alcohol either. If I have to pick you up from the station for any reason, you’re grounded until September.”

“I won’t drink a drop, Dad, I swear. I just wanna see the guys play,” she pleaded with doe eyes.

“Fine. You can go,” James finally relented.

“Thank you!” Dottie shrieked, hugging her Dad and shaking him in her excitement. “Thank you, thank you, thank you-”

“Alright, alright, calm down. Just be careful, okay? And call-”

“Call you if anything happens. I know. Thank you,” she kissed his cheek and ran back into her bedroom where James heard Eddie scream “fuck yeah!”, followed by a loud thump and bright laughter.

That night after dinner, Dottie sat on her windowsill looking at the inside of her wardrobe, mentally putting together an outfit that wouldn’t make her stand out like a sore thumb in the dingy bar. Jeans and sneakers are fine, Eddie had said when she asked him about it, but she knew the guys dressed up for their gigs, and she wanted to fit in. Maybe she should have asked her soon-to-be-boyfriend to lend her one of his band t-shirts, but then again, Eddie had a tendency to get grabby whenever she wore his clothes lately, even if it was just a borrowed sweatshirt when she got cold during a movie night. It was better to be lowkey about this; they were already pushing it a lot lately with the secret daily hangouts and the doing errands together thing. Borrowing his clothes in such a public event like his own band’s gig was as big a declaration of love as they came.

Yes, it was best to keep this under wraps, for the sake of all their friendships with the rest of the boys. She’d wear her own clothes to her very first Corroded Coffin show, and she’d be extra careful with her yearbook when she gave it to her friends at The Weekly Streak to sign. No one had to know that Eddie had drawn a very realistic looking arrangement of daisies on a corner of a page, along with an incredibly telling message that would be hard to explain if anyone read it. However, nothing was stopping her from letting the words he’d written in his usual chicken scratch form behind her eyelids as she let sleep take her under, a perpetual lovesick smile tattooed on her face.Thank you for believing in me, darling, he’d said. I love you now and always. Your Endearing Eddie.

Tuesday, June 10th - 1986

If there was anyone in Hawkins who had bad timing when it came to scheduling business transactions that happened outdoors, it was Eddie Munson. He was in such a hurry to sell most of his stash before he was due to start his first ever real job at Thatcher Tires the following week that he’d failed to account for the permanent drizzle that haunted Hawkins most of the time, and thus, had to move from his preferred selling spot in the woods to the back of the East classroom wing, his back pressed to the warm brick to shield himself from the droplets falling from the sky.

While he was busy earning much wanted cash so he could take his still-not-official-girlfriend out on a date to celebrate their graduation, Dottie and Gareth were lounging in his van, side door cracked open to let some of the day’s heat out. The almost empty parking lot looked menacing surrounded by a thick haze, a moderate breeze directing the drops of water to hit the van’s windshield in a comforting rhythm. Gareth was, as usual, being a menace. He was going through Eddie’s tapes, exchanging their cases to mess with his friend, and never letting a song reach the end before he was skipping forward to the next one. Dottie would have complained about it if she wasn’t so concentrated on her knitting, the summer baby blanket she was working on spread out over her legs. She was in the middle of calculating if the soft cotton yarn she had left was enough to finish the row she was currently knitting when Gareth turned around in the passenger seat to catch her attention.

“You excited about tonight?” he asked, glancing at the songlist at the back of a mixtape.

“Yeah, it should be fun! Though I’m not sure what I’m gonna wear yet,” she put down her needles and stretched in her seat. “Eddie said sneakers and jeans were fine, but I don’t wanna look lost, y’know.”

“Pick the oldest, shittiest clothes you have and you’ll fit in just fine. Most of the drunks in there go after work, it’s always a lot of plaid, jeans, and dirt.”

“You’re not selling this to me very well.”

“I don’t have to,” he grinned. “Eddie says jump, you jump.”

“No, I don’t-”

“Hey, there you are!”

She was about to tell Gareth off when Chrissy appeared from the mist, shielding herself from the rain by holding her cheer cardigan above her head. Immediately, Dottie slid the van door open a bit more so she could climb in, moving all her knitting supplies to her lap so the strawberry blonde girl could sit next to her. Gareth looked at both girls awkwardly and muttered a quick hello before turning in his seat again and busying himself back with the mixtapes.

“I didn’t know you knitted,” Chrissy said, thumbing the corner of the blanket. “This is so pretty.”

“Thank you,” Dottie smiled. “It’s a gift for my Aunt, she’s having a baby in a couple of months.”

“Aw, that’s sweet! Let me guess, a girl?” she said, pointing at the baby pink yarn.

“How could you tell?” Dottie said with good natured sarcasm. “Her name’s gonna be Rose so… pink for Rosie! It’s not very original but I’m hoping she still likes it even though she’ll be born in the middle of summer.”

“I’m sure she’ll love it. I used mine until I was in preschool, there’s no age limit for a good blankie,” Chrissy said, kindly. “I wish I could do creative stuff like this, it looks fun. I tried to learn to sew when I was younger but my Mom’s so not a good teacher. She made me cry once because I forgot to put the presser foot down.”

“I could teach you a few things if you want,” Dottie offered. “I’m not an expert, but my Aunt is, like, the most perfectionist person on the planet and she taught me everything I know so…”

“You’d do that?”

“Do what, teach you?” the blonde nodded in response. “Of course! We’re friends! And it’s a great skill to have, it comes in handy more than you think.”

“We’re friends?” Chrissy asked, eyes suddenly shiny.

“After everything you’ve done for- Chrissy, of course we’re friends,” Dottie said, grabbing the other girl’s hand.

“Oh, thank goodness,” she breathed out, a quiet laugh escaping her lips. “I feel so much better about asking you to sign my yearbook now, I didn’t know if I was being weird or not.”

“For future reference, we like weird here,” the brunette said in a stage whisper, leaning down to get her own yearbook out of her backpack. “Besides, I kinda wanted to ask you to sign mine too so we’re even.”

The girls exchanged books and quickly got to signing, aware that Gareth was pretending like he wasn’t in the same vehicle as them. He didn’t want to turn up the music and rudely drown their conversation, so he distracted himself by drumming on Eddie’s dashboard with two pens, wondering what on Earth had Chrissy done for Dottie that made her so thankful towards the cheerleader. Dottie grabbed her nicest black pen and found an empty space under Eddie’s message. He’d written Don’t be a stranger, Chrissy the Cheery (and thank you for the advice! See you at the wedding) next to a crude drawing in blue ink of a girl with a ponytail lifting one pompon and doing devil horns with the other hand.

After thinking about what she wanted to say to the cheerful blonde, Dottie settled on a nice simple message that was cryptic enough should anyone else read it, but also something that conveyed just how truly grateful she was for this new found friendship. Have a fantastic summer!, the note opened. Thank you for everything. Call me whenever! At the end, right next to her name and a little daisy, she wrote down her phone number. The word everything was underlined twice. When she gave it back to her rightful owner and saw the message Chrissy had written on pink ink on her yearbook, she let out a girly giggle. It was so lovely to get to know you, have a good summer! Let’s hang out soon, it read. Below, Chrissy had also written down her phone number. Both teens looked at each other with a knowing grin and hugged, not paying any attention to the metalhead who’d put them on each other’s path hopping onto the driver’s seat of his van, hair damp from the rain.

“Aw, aren’t you two cute,” Eddie said, grinning. “Did she sign it?”

“We both did,” Chrissy said, returning the smile. “How were the sales?”

“Great! I’m selling my last bit on Thursday and then I’m keeping the rest for myself. A man’s gotta have his vices.”

“What a shame,” the blonde shook her head. “Hawkins is losing its nicest dealer to the workforce.”

“I’m the only dealer you know, sweetheart.”

“Because you’re the nicest one, keep up! I’m gonna have to buy from sleazy dudes now, ugh,” she said while she gathered her things to leave.

“You should have enough to last you until you leave for your pre-season with what I sold you today,” he frowned, concerned that every time Chrissy bought from him, the amounts she asked for kept increasing.

“Yeah, maybe,” she said and shrugged, sliding the door van open and hopping off. “See you around, guys!”

The three of them watched her jog towards the school with her cardigan draped over her head again, her petite figure losing definition in the haze. Eddie clicked on his seatbelt - a habit he’d picked up since he started driving Dottie around - and pulled out of the school’s parking lot, winking once at the girl on his backseat when he put his hand on Gareth’s headrest to reverse into the open road. Dottie rolled her eyes at him, picking up her knitting needles once again. Gareth stared at the school building until it disappeared from sight before he turned to his friends.

“I still can’t believe Chrissy Cunningham is not only super nice to us freaks, but also smokes weed,” he said, making both of the other teens laugh.

James Burke did not think that moving to the town he had grown up in as a quiet wallflower would result in an exponential growth in his daughter’s social life, but truth be told, he wasn’t exactly upset about it. Before packing up her whole life and facing the Big Drive to Hawkins, Dottie had never once gone out for the night on a weekday, much less during the school year. But James had agreed to it, and Dottie had promised to be home before midnight, which brought them to the living room where the tired father sat in his armchair and amusedly watched his daughter pace the entirety of the room swinging her arms around with each step she took.

“You’re gonna burn a hole in the carpet, honey.”

“Good. This carpet gives me allergies.”

James chuckled, following her with his eyes as she padded her way to the window once more and peered outside yet again despite knowing that she would hear Eddie’s van first before seeing it, as per usual. She sighed dramatically and resumed her pacing, glancing at the clock on the wall anxiously. Mildly embarrassed upon noticing that her friends were still perfectly on schedule, she took a few deep breaths and tried to get her emotions in control before their arrival.

“You know you can call me if you get there and want to leave, right?”

“I know, Dad,” she rolled her eyes at him. “Stop offering to pick me up from places, you know Eddie’s gonna drive me back whenever I ask.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t exactly comfort me as much as you think it does, honey. That van looks like it’s gonna die on him at any second.”

“Oh, come on,” Dottie argued. “He loves that van, he takes good care of it.”

“The fumes that come out of that thing say otherwise, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt since he’s gonna be a mechanic and all now.”

And speak of the devil, thought James, as the aforementioned smoky van appeared down the street while playing loud metal music. Dottie hurried to grab her keys and a jacket, ready to bolt out of the door and get to the damn dive bar already, but her Dad insisted on walking with her outside to say hi. Eddie and Gareth waved at them as they approached, lowering the music so they could greet the older man properly.

“Good evening, boys,” James said, hands on his hips in a typical Dad pose but with a friendly smile on his face. “How are we feeling? Excited for the show?”

“Hell yeah!” Gareth said, grinning. “We’re gonna kill it, the setlist is awesome tonight.”

“You let him add an Anthrax song to it, didn’t you?” Dottie laughed knowingly, sliding the side door open and climbing in.

“We’re closing with Metal Thrashing Mad,” Gareth looked at her with an expression of triumph.

“Sounds like it’s gonna be a riot,” James chuckled and turned to his daughter. “Have fun, but don’t get into too much trouble. Midnight, okay?”

“I’ll get back here by 11, sir, I promise,” Eddie said, nodding once.

“Midnight’s okay, Ed,” the eldest Burke said, putting his trust in the young man’s hands; Eddie nodded again in understanding. “Have a good show!”

The man patted the side of the van as a goodbye and headed back inside, privately enjoying how much he could make Eddie squirm with just a few well placed words. He liked Eddie, he really did - he was polite, unapologetically himself, resourceful, kind. He loved his friends and wore his heart on his sleeve. And he loved Dottie, that much was clear to literally everyone that surrounded the teens. James didn’t know what the situation was like between them at the moment, but he could tell something had shifted based on recent interactions he’d witnessed. In his opinion, there seemed to be some sort of deeper connection between them since that fateful party they had gone to just a handful of days earlier, but James had to admit, albeit a little reluctantly, that even though he had been on the lookout for signs of a romantic relationship developing, not a lot had truly changed.

Eddie and Dottie had always been unusually close even upon first meeting, that was an undeniable fact about their friendship. It was hard to pinpoint if anything romantic had blossomed between them when Eddie had been calling her darling since the very first moment he laid eyes on her, or when Dottie gravitated towards him at any given moment, even in rooms filled with other people. Their hugs, while always having lasted longer than a regular friendly hug, were chaste and innocent, their main purpose always to comfort and to reassure. Eddie’s hands always stayed above her waist, not even so much as accidentally dropping to her hips in James’ presence, and any compromising position he’d found them in was at best playful, certainly never inappropriate.

It wasn’t that James was particularly concerned with the nature of the teens’ relationship; after all, he had been a teen himself once, he wasn’t an idiot. If anything was bound to happen, they weren’t going to ask for his permission beforehand. No, his worries were more about the knowledge that Dottie and Eddie dating while having the same group of friends could make a potential fall out incredibly painful for both of them, and the poor man was just desperately trying to protect his daughter as best as he could. He already felt like he had failed her once, he couldn’t let her down again. And yet, despite being cognizant of the dangers ahead, James found himself trusting Eddie because if Dottie trusted him, how could he not trust that his daughter knew better than her own Dad did about the matters of her heart?

“Okay, be honest, guys. How do I look?” Dottie asked, shoving half her body between the front seats so they could look at her better at the first stop sign.

“You look gorgeous, princess,” said Eddie.

“Like a toddler,” said Gareth, at the same time.

“Gareth, what the fuck,” Eddie deadpanned, swatting at his friend’s chest.

“What? She’s lucky they don’t ask for IDs,” he said, doubling down.

“You don’t tell a girl she looks like a toddler when she dresses up, you asshat,” Eddie said. “See, this is why you can’t get a girlfriend, you know nothing about women.”

“How would you know any better, you don’t have a girlfriend either!” Gareth retorted, making Eddie snort. If he only knew…

“You two bicker like an old married couple, did you know that?” Dottie said, settling back on her seat.

“That’s because we are,” Eddie joked, grabbing Gareth’s hand and giving him a kiss on the knuckles, making his friend yank his arm out of his grasp while the older boy laughed loudly.

Everyone was in good spirits as they journeyed to The Hideout, but whether she wanted them to or not, Gareth’s words made Dottie pause. Both boys had told her dark, casual clothes would be okay when she’d asked them for advice, so she’d gone with a striped dark blue and white t-shirt and black jean overalls, her trusty Reeboks matching Eddie’s keeping her feet comfortable. She glanced at both of her friends through the rearview mirror and compared her clothes to theirs, but that would never be a fair fight: they were dressed for the stage, not to be a spectator like she was. Gareth was wearing a loose shirt with the sleeves cut out, leather bracelets with spikes decorating each wrist along with his usual rings perched on his fingers. He had a flannel tied at his hip and his jeans were incredibly distressed, something that his Mom hadn’t been too happy about when she found out he’d ripped them himself on their driveway with a sharp rock. Eddie sat next to him, tapping on the steering wheel lightly as they talked about the setlist, looking like a vision straight out of his wildest rockstar dreams in acid wash denim and chains. Admittedly, his eyeliner did look terribly smudged, but he more than made up for it with enthusiasm and a giddy grin etched permanently into his features.

There was no comparison and there would never be one. Dottie simply didn’t fit in. They were undiscovered rockstars, masters of their craft who had poured blood, sweat and tears into a yet unfulfilled dream, and she was just the high school friend who was lucky enough to meet them before they blew up. She tried to be excited for them, to join in on the fun, but all she could think about was how Eddie was destined for bigger things than to be chained to an elementary school teacher and the white picket fence she had always dreamed of when she was living in a tiny apartment with her Dad back in New York.

Unaware of her inner turmoil, Eddie pulled into The Hideout’s parking lot next to Donny’s car, Gareth excitedly hollering out of the co-pilot’s window to get their friends’ attention. Donny took one last drag of his cigarette before throwing it to the side, and hurried to meet them along with Jeff, hugs and pats on their backs exchanged before immediately busying themselves unloading both vehicles. Dottie was quick to mask her discomfort by helping out; a task that forced her to stay focused was always a welcome distraction for her worried brain. The boys chatted loudly, their tired grunts filling the eerily empty parking lot as they moved heavy amps and Gareth’s drum kit into the bar through a service door to the side of the building, leaving Dottie to trail behind them carrying cables and drumsticks.

“Hey, you okay?” Jeff asked, taking a mic stand from her hands, back pressed to the metal service door to keep it open.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m just nervous,” she lied, her smile failing to reach her eyes. “Never been to a place like this before.”

“No one here bites, I promise,” he nudged her shoulder. “And if they do, we’ll fight them for you. You’re with the band, you’re a VIP now.”

“My heroes,” she said, pretending to swoon.

The small exchange might have gone unnoticed had Eddie not become finely attuned to the girl’s emotions even when she wasn’t sharing them out loud. Something wasn’t right, he was sure of it, and he was determined to find out what it was before their set started. He wanted her to enjoy this, to see him doing one of the things he loved most, to let her into a space that up until now had been sacred for him. The Hideout’s little stage wasn’t the Madison Square Garden, but with her in the crowd, he felt like it was the most important show he’d ever play in his entire life.

“I really like your shirt,” Dottie was telling Donny about his Iron Maiden tee, holding his bass for him as he searched for a pedal that had gotten lost in the back of his car. “The black makes your eyes pop out.”

“But I need my eyes,” he whined jokingly.

“You know what I mean, dumbass,” she laughed, softly hitting his leg with her sneaker.

“I was gonna wear something else actually but I couldn’t find it,” he said, frowning at his car’s messy floor. “I have this Halloween shirt- aha!”

“Did you find it?”

“Yep, it was under the mat,” he climbed out of the car and pulled his pants up higher. “My ass wasn’t showing, was it?”

“I would never let you show your ass in public,” Dottie said, giving him back his bass. “We got everything? What do we do now?”

“Yeah, we just need to set up and-”

“Hey man, can you start without us?” Eddie asked, sitting on the back of his open van and patting his pockets for his cigarettes. “Need her help with something.”

“Uh- yeah, sure,” Donny said, looking at both of them suspiciously and noticing how Dottie appeared to be as equally confused as he was. “Don’t take too long.”

Donny hoisted his bass case over his shoulder and disappeared into the building, throwing one last look at them for good measure. While Eddie busied himself lighting up a cig, Dottie shifted her weight from foot to foot nervously. What on Earth could Eddie want her help with right now? Was he… was he going to tell her to leave? Had he realized this was no place for her and didn’t want anyone to see she was with them? Or with him?

“Come ‘ere,” Eddie said, widening his legs so she could stand between them. “You gonna tell me what’s going on or do I gotta tickle it out of you?”

“You know I don’t like tickles.”

“Then I guess you’re gonna have to spill, don’t you, princess?” he flicked some of his ash to the side and wrapped an arm around her hips to bring her closer. “What is it, huh? My eyeliner’s that bad you can’t even look at me?”

“No,” she muttered, lips curling into a resigned pout. “You look pretty.”

“I look like shit. People might confuse me with a raccoon.”

“A pretty raccoon,” the right corner of her mouth lifted into a tentative smile and he took that as a win.

“If it’s not my eyeliner, what’s bothering you then? You wanna go home? ‘Cause I’ll drive you back right now if you want me to, just say the word.”

“No, no,” she quickly shook her head, curls bouncing around but her eyes were still stuck to his knees. “I wanna see you play.”

“Baby, I know something’s upsetting you. Talk to me, come on. We’ve been good at that lately,” he pleaded, thumb sneaking into the side of her overalls and under her shirt to rub comforting circles on her skin.

“It’s just-,” Dottie huffed, crossing her arms and curling on herself. “I feel weird, okay? I look like an idiot.”

“What are you talking about?” Eddie frowned.

“Ed, I’m wearing overalls.”

“And?”

“What do you mean, and? You look like a fucking rockstar and I’m some random toddler following you around. I don’t fit in, Gareth’s right.”

“Okay, first of all, fuck Gareth,” she opened her mouth to argue but he beat her to it. “No, no, fuck Gareth. He doesn’t know shit about fashion, never trust anything he says, okay? He used to wear polos every day before he met me, you knew that? He can’t judge anyone. And I love your overalls. You look adorable in them.”

“But I don’t want to look adorable!” Dottie stomped on the ground, which only furthered his point. “You look so badass, why couldn’t I look like that?”

“You wanna look badass? I’ll give you any of my shirts next time, I promise,” Eddie pulled her closer until she uncrossed her arms and rested them on his shoulders. “But don’t listen to that dumbass. I love how you dress. I really fuckin’ do, babe.”

“Yeah? The toddler thing gets you going?” she asked, melting under his earnest eyes.

“Nah, that’s all you, darling,” he stretched himself up to kiss her gently. “You get me going. And you always fit in with me, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Nope, come on, you gotta say it.”

“Eddie.”

“I’m waiting,” he sang.

“You’re insufferable sometimes,” she rolled her eyes, but this time her smile was much more genuine. “Fine. I fit in with you.”

“Always.”

“Good,” he took one last drag of his cigarette and threw it away, lifting himself up to close the van doors and direct into the bar. “We’re gonna talk about this later though. I know you’re still thinking about it.”

“It’s scary how much you know me,” she mused, leaning onto his side for courage as they walked to the front door.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t pay attention to you?” he said, opening the door to let her in.

Boyfriend. He had called himself her boyfriend. They hadn’t discussed what they were yet; Eddie was adamant about asking her out properly on Graduation Day but it felt good to hear that he knew what he meant to her. That he wanted the same thing she did, even if her anxious heart got in the way sometimes. Dottie was so sure he’d get bored of her once he realized how truly boring she was, but failed to consider that in all their months together as friends, Eddie had learned to love their differences and cherished them deeply. Why would he want someone who was just like him? He was an idiot in his opinion, he’d hate it if she was equally impulsive, messy and brash as he was. She was soft where he was rough, logical where he was a dreamer, practical where he was ignorant. And in turn Eddie felt capable where she was inexperienced, bold where she was shy, and calm where she was nervous. Two puzzle pieces that are cut the exact same way never fit, and Eddie was confident in the knowledge that they were alike, yet different where it mattered the most. It was just a matter of time until she got to see things like he did, and he’d be damned if he didn’t help her get there faster.

“Dave! What’s up?” Eddie hollered as he approached the bar, a bald man with a bushy beard greeted him with a big smile.

“Hey, Ed! The guys told me the big news, I’m proud of you, kid,” Dave said, putting down his rag and a glass to pat Eddie’s back over the counter. “You brought a new friend today?”

“Thanks, man. Yeah, this is Dottie,” he introduced them. “Dot, Dave, he’s the owner - Dave, Dot. Treat her right, okay? She’s our manager.”

“No shit,” Dave laughed. “How did that happen?”

“I got them a gig in Indy next month and they offered me the job,” Dottie said, slipping onto a bar stool next to Eddie. “We should talk business sometime.”

“That’s my girl,” Eddie beamed, squeezing her hand before walking backwards to the stage. “Give her anything she wants, I’ll cover her tab!”

“So, you’re Eddie’s girl, huh,” Dave said, eyes glinting.

“I guess I am,” Dottie smiled, before her expression dropped in realization. “Could you- We’re not, like- The guys-”

“Secret’s safe with me, doll,” he winked at her. “I knew something was up when Ed started adding ballads to their setlist. Now, what’s your poison? On the house.”

“Would root beer be an acceptable choice?” she asked, cheeks burning under her skin.

“Depends. You want ice cream with it?” he threw his rag over his shoulder.

“I’ll never say no to a little vanilla.”

“Attagirl. I can see why he likes you,” Dave said, and disappeared down the kitchen door in search of a scoop of ice cream.

Dottie turned around in her stool to look at her friends happily setting up for their show, palpable excitement coursing through their veins. Gareth was hunched over his drum kit, tightening and loosening the skin until it was perfect while he heard the story Donny was retelling, Eddie laughing loudly and Jeff cringing while uncoiling a cable. They looked happy, barely controlled energy bouncing around the room much to everyone’s amusement. Two older men sat in a corner of the bar, mugs filled with frothy beer and a bowl of peanuts shared between them - they lifted up their drinks and smiled at her in acknowledgement when she glanced their way. Dave was funny, charming and a little bit kooky, all the right ingredients for a good bartender. He kept Dottie busy by telling her stories about every regular that was in the bar, and introduced her to the two men as “the boys’ boss, so no funny business with her”. Rudy and B.B. ate it up, calling her bosslady in all further interactions, asking her about their friendship with Corroded Coffin and telling her silly stories they had collected about her friends over their years as The Hideout’s only band with a permanent slot.

It was clear to Dottie that this was a family built on routine and comradery. They had nicknames for each other, knew about beverage preferences and medical conditions, asked about parents, wives and children. B.B. was all too glad to have someone new to show off the pictures he kept in his wallet, his five grandchildren looking up at Dot from the glossy paper as he shared names and little anecdotes about them proudly. When it was time for Corroded Coffin to finally start playing, everyone paid attention and even cheered when the first few notes of Black Sabbath’s Paranoid began. Dottie sang along to every single word that came out of Jeff’s mic, thinking about that very first time she’d seen them play in Gareth’s garage. This felt equally warm, homey, and handcrafted. A labor of love.

Corroded Coffin was a sight that begged to be seen. They were loud and unapologetic; they crooned to the outcasts, the freaks, the weirdos. Lee with his prosthetic leg and handlebar mustache, Rudy with his white hair and beer belly, Shonda with her leather vest and scary-looking motorbike parked outside. These drunkards were their very first fans, and they enjoyed the Tuesday night gig as much as anyone could enjoy first row seats to a Metallica show in a big arena. During a water break between songs, Lee asked for a Judas Priest song and the boys indulged him, Gareth immediately launching into a complex beat that made him break one of his drumsticks in half at the end. He looked the happiest Dottie had ever seen him.

The half hour show came to a close, and Corroded Coffin said their goodbyes with pure elation and sweat dripping down their faces. Dottie wanted to help them load everything back into the cars, but Shonda kept her busy and glued to her stool talking about New York and the best food places she had encountered on her travels. If Dottie recognized some of the mentioned spots as known queer hangouts she’d always wanted to go to but couldn’t because she was underage, she said nothing, but the knowledge only endeared the older lady more to her. When the guys had finished putting everything away, they surrounded Dottie at the bar and Dave presented them with a beer each. Yes, it was illegal to serve alcohol to minors, but no one cared. They’d earned those fair and square, and what was the big issue with a little toast between friends to the Hellfire Class of ‘86 who would be graduating in just a few short days?

“Since when do you go dry after a show, Ed?” Dave said, grabbing the bottle Eddie had pushed back into his hand.

“I’m driving her around tonight,” Eddie said, nodding towards Dottie who was lost in conversation with Jeff. “Her Dad might kill me if we get pulled over and I’m drunk, and I actually like being alive.”

“She’s got you whipped,” B.B. commented, making the rest of the older men laugh while Eddie’s ears burned red at the light teasing.

“Good for her. Someone had to do it at some point,” Rudy said, lifting his frothy beer to his lips, and truth be told, Eddie was more than happy to admit they were right.

Dottie was not expecting Eddie to pull over halfway between her house and Gareth’s after dropping him and his drum kit off, but it soon became clear that he wasn’t about to let her go to bed without talking about what had happened earlier. He was still a little jittery from the show, adrenaline starting to run off now that they were surrounded by the quiet of the night in a deserted street, truly alone for the first time all day. After reaching to click her seatbelt off, he helped her crawl sideways onto his lap, resting her weight half on him and half on the driver’s door, legs draped over the center console and stretching towards the co-pilot’s seat. Despite the fact that he’d just played a 30 minute set and still felt a little bit damp with sweat from his performance, he took the time to bask in the sense of calm that washed over him. This is the best part of my day, he thought, lazily pressing kisses to the side of her head as she played with his rings, a dazed smile on her face.

“I fuckin’ love you,” he whispered, pushing her hair behind her ear and making her squirm in delight when he pressed another kiss to her temple.

“I love you too. You’re my favorite rockstar,” she muttered back, nosing his cheek.

“You had a good time?”

“The best. Everyone was so nice.”

“They better be,” he said dramatically, lifting his hand into a menacing fist. “Or else I’d have to kill them.”

“Stop,” she laughed, arms wrapping around him. “I’m sorry if I worried you earlier. I was being silly and got too into my own head.”

“You gonna tell me what that was about? And don’t say it was about your overalls, because I know it wasn’t,” he lifted her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles gently.

“I don’t know, I guess… I was just thinking about the future, and-”

“Uh-oh. Is this it? Are you breaking up with me? Shit, I knew that old dog Rudy was gonna take you away from me.”

“Shut up,” Dottie slapped his chest lightly as she laughed and he pretended to be in excruciating pain, slumping against his seat. “I… I was just wondering if there’s gonna be a place for me, y’know? In your future? And I got upset thinking that maybe there wouldn’t be.”

“Why would you think that?” Eddie asked, uncharacteristically serious.

“I mean… I dunno,” she admitted. “You’re gonna be a huge rockstar and I’m just, like… your boring high school sweetheart that wants to become a teacher. Is that really what you want for your life?”

“Yes. I want you.”

“Eddie, I’m being serious.”

“Yeah, me too,” his hand came up to hold her face. “I’m not gonna become a rockstar, Dot. That ship sailed a long time ago.”

“You’re only twenty-”

“It’s not about my age. Jeff’s leaving Hawkins and he’s gonna be a fancy businessman with a- a fuckin’ pacifist non-profit org or whatever people do in West Virginia,” she snorted at his words and he continued. “Gareth’s probably gonna become the greatest studio percussionist in the world for all we know, and Donny has his family’s restaurant to take care of. We’re all going separate ways, and I don’t wanna do the rockstar thing without them. Like, that’s my band, y’know? I’m not gonna go solo, it’s all of us or no one.”

“I get that, I do but… I just don’t want to be the reason you give up on your dreams,” she admitted. “You’re gonna resent me if you do, and I don’t want you to wake up one day and realize that you are unhappy and you hate me.”

“I could never hate you and I’m not giving up on anything because of you, darling, I promise. Is it really that hard to believe that I want a normal, peaceful life with you?” he shrugged.

“But you hate normal.”

“No, I don’t. I thought I did but… I can’t be hanging onto a maybe forever, babe. I can’t do that to Wayne. I want to help him out, have a good job so I can pay for things around the house, move out before I turn 30. Give him back his goddamn bedroom, for fuck’s sake,” Eddie scoffed bitterly, thinking about his poor Uncle’s back after years of sleeping on that shitty fold-out bed. “I want to make his life easier. He deserves that much.”

“But you could help him out even more if you became a rockstar. You could- you could buy him a big house, and he wouldn’t have to work anymore, he could just retire,” Dottie pressed on. “Didn’t you want to get out of Hawkins? Travel the world?”

“Yeah, but I think I’d miss you too much if I was away on the road all the time. I’m already suffering about you going to Michigan and that’s only three hours away. I can’t get on a tour bus and not see you for eight months, you know I’ll die if you don’t kiss me regularly,” he joked.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t be right there with you on the tour bus if you asked?” she joked back but her voice was so, so earnest.

“Darling, I could never do that to you. I could never ask you to give up on a full ride scholarship for me, fuck. You earned that shit, you have to go and get your degree so I can brag about how smart you are to everyone I talk to.”

“But who’s gonna keep the groupies away from you if I’m not there?” she whispered dramatically.

“I’ll chase them out, let the guys have all of them. Got the best and only groupie I need right here,” he squeezed her to make the remnants of her insecurities go away before kissing her forehead.

“I’m not a groupie though, I’m your manager,” Dottie reminded him. “I’ll have you know, Dave and I are gonna discuss business soon.”

“Yeah? You gonna look out for us? Read all our contracts before we sign them?” Eddie played along, smirking up at her.

“I’ll get you moved from Tuesdays to Thursdays, you’ll see.”

“God, you’re so hot when you know what you want.”

“Eddie!”

“What, my girl is the smartest manager in the world and I can’t find that hot? Fuckin’ sue me then,” he laughed and leaned in to kiss her, feeling incredibly lucky about the fact that she chased his lips for more when he pulled away. “I’m being serious, though. I know you don’t believe me when I say I don’t want that rockstar shit anymore, and this is way too brave of me considering we haven’t even gone on our first official date yet, but… I dunno. I kinda really like the idea of coming back home after a long day at work and getting to hold you like this. I used to think having a normal life was so lame because I never had it and now it’s all I can think about.”

Eddie had told himself throughout his whole childhood that he didn’t want to live like his classmates. He didn’t want to have family dinners every night like they did, because it meant he would have had to eat vegetables like broccoli and carrots instead of whatever unhealthy snack he could make for himself while his Dad was out of the house for the night. He didn’t want to have perfect attendance at school, because he liked whenever he could sleep in until late before “going on an adventure” on Wyatt’s Good Days. He liked spending his summers with his Grandma, stuffing his face full of ice cream and pie, and he liked when Wayne had a few days off from his job as a trucker and returned to Hawkins bringing dumb trinkets he had probably bought at a gas station on his way home, but felt like treasures to the youngest Munson. Eddie had told himself he didn’t want anything more than what he had throughout his childhood, because Wyatt said whining was for pussies and for girls, and his son wasn’t either of those things, are you?

It wasn’t until Eddie moved in with Wayne that he found out he really liked carrots because they were unexpectedly sweet and that he didn’t like grapefruit because it was bitter. He didn’t skip a single day of school for a month and his teacher put a gold star next to his name on the wall. His clothes were now always clean, and he didn’t have to wash ketchup stains in the school’s bathroom anymore to hide them from his Dad because his shirt would be hanging from the clothesline the next day like the offending red splat had never been there in the first place. Eddie thought that living in a real house was bullshit, because he lived in a trailer now and the trailer park was fun. He could feed and pet the strays and go to the playground whenever he wanted, and the people who lived there said hi to him when they saw him collecting flat rocks to skip at the lake when Wayne took him fishing on weekends, and sometimes the old lady next door would give him a bite of watermelon if he asked nicely.

But now Eddie was 20, and he wasn’t scared of admitting he wanted more. He wanted a water heater that didn’t randomly die on him, and a bedroom without mold stains, and Wayne to have the privacy he so very much deserved after 12 years of sleeping in the living room. He wanted a garage like Gareth’s, a backyard like Jeff’s, and a loud but loving family like Donny’s. And whenever he thought about those things lately, he always ended up dreaming about lying on a big comfy couch after a hot shower with his sleepy girlfriend pressed to his side and the decadent smell of a roast cooking away in the oven. No rush, no worries. Just love.

“I think about it too,” Dottie said quietly, jostling him out of his cozy fantasy.

“You do?” he asked, surprised.

“I never had a house until we moved here, I’ve always lived in small apartments before. And it’s not like that’s a bad thing, because it isn’t! I’m really grateful I always had a roof over my head. But I used to dream a lot about having a house like my grandparents when I was younger, and… I don’t know. When I think about it now you are there too. I know, I know it’s a lot, we haven’t even, like, talked about-”

“No, no, that-,” Eddie said, an unfamiliar warmth spreading in his chest. “That sounds really nice, darling. Tell me more? About our future house?”

“Well… it changes all the time. When I see something I like, I add it so it’s always different,” she said, cheeks warm at his soft gaze. “Like, it didn’t have a front porch until I met you, but now I know I definitely want one.”

“Why did you add a porch when you met me?”

“Because you have one! I love it when we sit outside when it’s rainy, it feels really peaceful. And also I think it’s really cute that Wayne waits for you there sometimes. I… I kinda wanna do that.”

“You wanna wait for me to come home on our front porch?” Eddie asked, grip tightening around her waist.

“Mhm,” she buried her head on his neck, closing her eyes like she could see themselves in the future. “We should get a swing, I can make cushions for it. And plant fruit trees in the backyard.”

“We could set up the basement to host D&D nights,” he continued. “And a dog. We should definitely get a dog.”

“Yes. A big dog.”

“A big black dog, and we can name him Ozzy,” he smiled.

“Aw, I wanted to name him Bilbo,” she pouted.

“You can’t name a black dog Bilbo, that’s a name for a brown dog,” Eddie argued.

“We can have two dogs then, one black and one brown.”

“That’s too much, we need space for the kids.”

“K-kids?” Dottie lifted her head and stared at him like he’d just grown two heads.

“I thought you wanted kids?” he was confused.

“I do, I just… I didn’t think you wanted kids,” she admitted. “And we’re still so young, it feels strange to talk about that.”

“I mean, I definitely don’t want kids right now but maybe in like… five years-”

“Ten,” she said, in a tone that left no room to argue.

“Ten years sounds great. We could have kids in ten years, right? I’m not gonna be a loser by then.”

“Eddie, you’re not a loser,” she frowned.

“Wait until after graduation to make big statements like that, babe.”

“You’re not a loser. You’re the best rockstar mechanic in the world and Ozzy, the kids and I love you.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, wiping his face with his hand. “Princess, you can’t shit like that or I’m gonna ask you to marry me before our first date.”

“Ed?” Dottie said nervously; his hand fell from his face to her thighs and he looked at her. “Are we… are we moving too fast? We haven’t even been on a real date and we’re already talking about, like, marriage and living together-”

“We’re just goofin’ around, babe,” he said, grabbing her hand. “We don’t have to do anything until we’re ready. You gotta go to Michigan first and get your degree, and I have to move out of Wayne’s, we have time. I’m just, uh, putting my cards on the table early so you can yell at me if I start being stupid. That alright with you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s alright with me,” she smiled back at him.

“Besides, everyone at The Hideout knows you’re my girl now. That’s bigger than marriage - if we break up they’ll take your side.”

“Am I?”

“Huh?”

“Am I your girl?” Dottie asked, knowing the answer but still wanting to hear it from his lips.

“You know you are,” he pulled her into a kiss before singing softly. “My girl, talkin’ ‘bout my girl… my girl!”

“You’re so silly,” she giggled, noses bumping in the dark.

“But I’m your silly. You’re mine and I’m yours, okay? So no more getting upset at whatever bullshit Gareth says. I’ll kick his ass.”

“It’s not his fault. My brain just hates me sometimes.”

“I’ll fight your brain,” he said, making her giggle again. “You’re It for me, darling. We fit in together. It’s just that easy.”

“Easy,” she repeated.

Eddie had told himself a lot of lies growing up, but the biggest one was that he didn’t want a normal, quiet life, because that was lame and he wasn’t going to conform to the system like everyone else did. He understood now that maybe, just maybe, having the most regular, happy, love-filled life he could get with his high school sweetheart turned elementary school teacher and a big black dog named Ozzy, in a house with a swing on the front porch, enough rooms for children that didn’t exist yet, and a basement where he could DM as many campaigns as he could think of, would probably be the biggest act of defiance he could do in the eyes of a town who thought he would never be deserving of the common luxuries everyone else got to have without having to fight for them.

taglist: @munsonology @kurdtbean @every1lovesanunderdog @eg-dr3amer3

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your-mom-friend · 6 months

Text

HOLY FUCKING HELL I JUST FINISHED PART 23 OF MALEVOLENT

okay what the HELL oh my god

There’s so much to fucking think about

The prison pits stuff…god damn

Maybe I’m just a rot-brained podcast girlie but towards the end of season 1 my thoughts about this particular podcast man were that he’s a sad wet kitten who occasionally kicks major ass and makes morally questionable decisions which is fair

And in this line I thought it would be fun if he’d compare stories with my other favourite podcast boys and their SO’s. AKA Jon and Martin, Juno and Nureyev and Cecil and Carlos.

But after part 23 I feel like if they had this conversation and had the trauma dumping talk they’d just be fucking horrified with what Arthur and John had to do/go through.

Like the murder? Fine. Everyone gets a little Murder sometimes. Imprisonment and the spiralling that comes with it? Happens man it’s okay. The several, several broken bones? Hell yeah dude. The cannibalism would probably throw them for a loop I think.

I mean people in the 1930’s really had fuck all to be doing then huh.

Back to my point. People were so focused on the return of John that we totally glanced over the cannibalism that was implied in the prison episode and also the fact that John had to relive that man’s death every. Single. Time. Arthur ate from him. Holy god damn shit.

Also Arthur gets hurt so god damn much. Concussion? Stab wounds (multiple)? Gun shot wounds? Slash wounds? (Honorary mention for when John’s finger got replaced with fucking wood because Arthur BIT IT OFF) Dislocated shoulder? Broken leg? Unspecified broken bones from the King? GOT A PIECE OF HIS EAR RIPPED OFF??? Put this man in a hospital in another medically induced coma and let his boyfriend look after him please god let him rest please let him have one good moment I want to wrap him in a fucking blanket this man has been in this predicament for 4 (5 if you count the coma) months and he’s already accumulated more injuries than most people do in a life time.

Also like. There’s no way they don’t end up together right? RIGHT? It’s literally been SAID. “ ‘You love him’/‘I suppose I do’”“you only have eyes for HIM” oh my god please get a room YALL share the same body and he doesn’t even have a physical form but other people have already noticed can they get any more obvious

#rem rambles #malevolent #malevolent podcast #arthur lester #john doe malevolent #kayne malevolent #the king in yellow #spoilers for part23 #jarthur #arjohn?#wtnv #tma #juno steel #malevolent pod posting

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staceymcgillicuddy · 9 months

Note

If you’re still taking prompts for the writing one, 2 or 23 mayhaps? 💖 No worries if not. 😘

I am, in fact, still taking prompts! And I'm going to answer both of yours! Here's number 2, and I'm going to start work on 23 now. I'll tag you when I post it!

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

The concept is so ludicrous, so ridiculous, so beyond the realm of comprehension that Eddie has never considered it in the three months he’s been privileged enough to call Chrissy Cunningham his girlfriend, his sweetheart, his one-and-only. Like, he’d prostrate himself at her feet daily if she’d let him, and maybe he’d tried once or twice before she’d “oh my gosh-ed” at him in a way that had him swooning and grabbing at her knees and kissing her ankles and yeah, alright, he worships the ground she walks on. Fuck him, right?

So, the idea that Chrissy could be jealous? Does not compute. Beep-bloop, broken robot, bye-bye.

Yet, there Chrissy sits, arms folded and a frown on her face, in the front seat of his van where he’s giving her a ride home after Corroded Coffin’s standing weekly gig at the Hideout. Chrissy can’t always come—her mom and dad aren’t exactly down with Eddie, so her attendance is contingent on whether she can sneak out—but she was there tonight, looking perfectly delectable in one of his old Dio shirts that she’d cut up and turned into, like… some girl shit where her boobs are pushed up and fantastic and it nips in at the waist, and yeah, he’s gonna eat her out. He’s gonna eat her out so hard, what with the flippy black skirt that’ll be so easy to get underneath.

Only that’s not looking so likely, judging by the way her bottom lip is shaking.

She also hasn’t answered the question.

Eddie pulls the van into the curb, ignoring the indignant crash of a loose cymbal.

“Chrissy,” he says, reaching for her hand, only she turns away. “Hey. Baby…”

“You were flirting with her!”

“With Alice?” Eddie is stumped. Shboggled. Stupefied. Alice is like… the bartender. That’s it. She’s not even a girl, really. Or, well, she is a girl. He’s made out with her twice, and she gave him a handjob once. But she’s older—in college in Indianapolis—and she only picks up shifts at the Hideout when she’s home on break because her uncle owns the bar. And, like, yeah, she has a great ass and a cool haircut, and she’s fun to talk to, but he wasn’t flirting. He was just, like, kidding around. Teasing her a little. Coercing her into a free drink and a smoke and…

Huh. Yeah. Now that he thinks about it, he can see where Chrissy’s coming from.

“Allie’s just like, my buddy, though?” He offers by way of explanation.

“Eddie, come on,” she says, and her chin is still wobbling.

“I’m serious, though! You don’t have anything to worry about.”

She rounds on him with a glare, and he’s suddenly quite sure that he’s stepped in a pile of dogshit. “Oh my gosh, I’m not worried, Eddie! I’m embarrassed!”

“Th—why?”

“Because it’s humiliating to have to sit there while my boyfriend flirts with another girl in front of his friends, is why!”

Oh. Huh. Eddie never thought about it like that, but then, he never had a girlfriend before Chrissy. But, if the tables were turned and she was being real cute with some random dude while he had to sit there and watch, he probably wouldn’t be thrilled with the situation, either.

“Fuck,” he says. “Chrissy…”

“Don’t do that crap, okay?” She blinks, and there are tears in her eyes. Eddie officially wants to kick his own ass up one side of the street and down the other. “It really hurts my feelings.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he says, and he means it. “That was a dick move.”

Chrissy softens slightly, and this time when he reaches for her hand, she lets him take it. “I don’t care if you… if you have friends, or whatever. But don’t flirt, okay? Don’t do that.”

Eddie nods, and if the gearshift wasn’t between them, he’d have flung himself across the seats and onto her lap by now. “Got it. Yeah. Totally. Just… new to this, you know?”

“Uh-huh.” She shrugs, then offers him the tiniest hint of a smile. “You want to make it up to me?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“What you’re wearing under that skirt.”

Other prompts from this meme!

#bsc diaries #darcylightninglewis #eddie you dingus #we love you #hellcheer #fanfic #flash fiction #he definitely made it up to her #by letting her sit on his face #prompt meme

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momo-t-daye · 8 months

Note

For the ask game - 1, 8, 12, 16, 19, 23, 25, 28, 32, 34, 37, 40 😁 just threw a bunch of numbers in there because I love your opinions!

1. Canon I outright reject

You know, I don’t think there’s anything in the books about Snape that I outright reject all the time (I can’t say as much about the movies because I am very bad at paying attention to movies and didn’t watch all of them but the movies aren’t exactly canon). There’s plenty of things I like to use as divergence points, to think about how this or that change would alter a character’s trajectory and whether that would be sufficient to escape the gravitational pull of the narrative, but I tend to think of canon as a scaffold and fanwork as a mirror (kind of like those mirrors dentists use to look at things you can’t see directly you know? But also in a funhouse way because I enjoy silliness).

8. Unpopular opinion about them

Hm…. Snape is a very very weird dude who has never been anywhere near “cool” in his life and a virtuoso petty asshole, but that’s what I enjoy about him as a character???

I don’t think he’d be able to live alone in the woods/Jamaica/Antartica/etc. relishing his well-earned peace and quiet. He needs other people around him, partially as an audience to see just how little he needs those other people and partially because there is nothing quite so energizing and enjoyable as intentionally annoying other people (I’m not saying he’s an extrovert, but he sure isn’t 100% pure introvert either…)

12. Crack headcanon

He sleeps with his eyes open. He is only aware that he sleeps with his eyes open after Lily (on behalf of a too terrified Tuney) asked him why he did that.

As a kid he was very proud of his ability to mentally calculate a running total cost even though he had no money or intention to pay for his parma violets. He dislikes decimalisation, which hit shortly before he went to Hogwarts (because other people keep insisting that base-10 is so much easier to use), and value-added tax, which hit while he was in Hogwarts (because it messes with his mental math and budgeting).

16. Deepest darkest secret they won’t even admit to themselves

He desperately wants his father’s approval. No matter what praise Albus Dumbledore or Lord Voldemort or any other substitute father figure might place on him, the unobtainable opinion of a working-class muggle man holds so much more weight.

Has everyone seen this lovely picture by the very talented @sneverussape?

19. Vices/bad habits

Severus lives off of spite (not a brassica vegetable despite what he might tell Madame Pomfrey), black coffee, and cheap cigarettes. He avoids alcohol, if only because of his father, but he has his own addictions (one of which is self-denial).

23. If they were a scented candle, what would they smell like?

As an adult in Harry’s era, rust and withered grass- the disquieting hint of blood spilled and the temporary sweetness of chaff left behind after the harvest would smell like being haunted by a time that has already passed.

For my self-indulgent AU young Sev I think there’d be more river muck and apples ripe for scrumping.

25. 3 things they’d want to take with them if they were dropped off in the middle of nowhere

Severus would try to claim that a full set of cauldrons and a closet full of potions ingredients should only count as two items and his wand could be his third item. Whatever magical entity or event that was dropping him in the middle of nowhere would probably not agree. His next attempt (his wand, a portkey back to his quarters at Hogwarts and/or Malfoy Manor and/or Spinner’s end, and a well-stocked RV to wait in until the Portkey was ready to go) would get his ass dropped in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the clothes on his back (if he’s lucky). He’d survive just fine and get back to somewhere other than “the middle of nowhere”, but he won’t have fun and anyone he encountered on his way out of the middle of nowhere wouldn’t have fun and everyone is back home is going to know just how little fun he had getting dropped in the middle of nowhere.

(He grew up with so little, he has a bit of a tendency to hold onto whatever he has and be deeply suspicious of anyone trying to make him pare his belongings down. Yet in the 1997-1998 school year, he spent his time slowly winnowing down his belongings and tidying up his affairs on the assumption that he would not survive and no one would want to or care to clean up after him).

28. How they feel about [insert character of your choice from the same fandom]

Instead of rambling about Sev and Lily and how they were best friends and how much I want to jump up and down and scream that they were best friends and how entangled and enmeshed one can get within the intensity of childhood friendship, I think I’ll plunk Nymphadora Tonks in those brackets!

He thinks Tonks is wasting her talents working as an Auror for the Ministry, claims her habit of mimicking him was deeply annoying even if it did come in handy when he needed to supervise three detentions (including hers) at once, and professes complete disinterest even though he refuses to use any mug in the staff room other than the humorously oversized “student’s tears” mug her NEWTs cohort bought for him.

…at some point I’ll get around to writing a one-shot about how Nymphadora Tonks became one of the leading experts on Polyjuice Potion that I’ve had semi-outlined for over a year now…

32. Something guaranteed to make them smile/laugh

Ooh, this is a tough one- particularly for Harry-era Severus Snape!

I think when a student who has been trying and putting the effort in suddenly gets it, when something clicks and they get excited about the implications and the possibilities provided by potions. He isn’t equipped to deal with impatient and distractible children that treat his subject as mandatory torture, but someone else being excited about academic points and caring and being a nerd about someone he cares about? I think that would make him smile.

34. How they react when they are feeling X emotion (sad, angry, excited, scared, etc.—can specify as many as you like)

As a kid, I think he talked with his hands (particularly after meeting Lily who talked with her hands and never got walloped for taking up space) and the more excited he became the more his hands and arms moved trying to corral the world into his enthusiasm. There were times when Severus and Lily were both so excited Tuney would swear there were seven hands waving around between the two of them.

A great deal froze on Halloween 1981, calcified, and many emotions could only exit via the anger expressway.

37. What they really think about themselves

Oof…

Especially as an adult, Severus does not think very good things about himself.

I think, as an act of self-defense, he tries very hard to not think about himself at all…

40. Favorite book

Not a book, but still media: I think Star Trek aired on the BBC at a very formative time for Severus. As a Hogwarts student (and after) he probably scoffed at fantasy fiction for not portraying magic as he knew magic, but science fiction was something he could sink into. Did he try to recreate melange/spice from Dune in his third year? Maybe. Is he mortally offended that Harry only knows Dune as “that movie with Sting wearing the, uh, you know, the, erm, well, thingy…”? Yes.

#ask game #Severus Snape

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cressthebest · 1 month

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Tender Curiosities, Baby! thoughts pt. 3

chapter 4:

1. awwww barty is about to go to reg about his boy (evan) problems

2. barty notices that reg was expecting someone else 👀

3. BARTY MY DUDE that is NOT the way to begin the conversation. all he does is ask reg if he’s gay. 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈 SIR that’s not what you do

4. reg telling the story of how sirius walked in on him making out with some boy 😭😭😭 and sirius just gave reg A THUMBS UP. stop that’s so in canon

5. i love how tender and personal reg and barty’s conversation is

6. 😦😦 barty. wtf my man. you just KISSED regulus like that. just straight up kissed him

7. i love how call reg is being tho. he’s just like. “Explain to me your thought process here. In words, preferably.”

8. BARTY ADMITTED TO HIS GAY CRUSH ON EVAN! WE HAVE A WIN HERE!! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

9. barty told reg everything about evan!! he’s so soft and in love

10. EVAN AND BARTY AND TALKING AGAIN AND EVAN KISSED HIM!!

11. oh wait i think they’re doing more than kissing

12. wait they stop

13. these people have so much self control to not fuck

14. “It was a curious thing, it was a tender thing,” THE TITLE YALL

15. reg just silently lets evan and barty do their thing. no questions, no comments, no look of surprise

16. “Still, he found himself telling Regulus one morning that they weren’t sleeping together, they were just sleeping together, and they were taking it slow.” -barty AWWWWW that’s so cute!! they’re so tender and in love!!!

17. dorlene mention <333

18. barty lost the bet about reg and james being together 😭😭 i love them

19. BARTY SAID HE LOVED EVAN!! RED ALERT!! RED FUCKING ALERT!!!

20. damn, one “i love you” and suddenly they’re about to fuck after months of not doing it

21. i love the different types of relationships in ahb in terms of privacy. wolfstar is loud and will snog anywhere and declare their love. jegulus is private by nature, but don’t mind doing coupley things around others. dorlene is literally just a couple who everyone knows is a couple, and they say things, but theyre not into pda really. and rosekiller straight up just don’t tell anyone

22. barty is being forced to drive the speed limit and he is APPALLED

23. the heist was so much easier to read the second time around, and from barty’s perspective. barty is so calm about it, that i literally have to remind myself that the heist is actually a big deal, and not just sneaking into a house or something

24. the fact that barty turns the radio on is always wild to me. car chase, guns about to be shot, and barty’s like AH YES! classical music will do!!

25. i forget how deranged barty is, then he goes and says something that makes me remember like “He’d make every last person in this van murderers if that’s what it would take to see Evan again.” ALRIGHTY SIR

#marauders #mwpp #art heist baby #mwpp era #ao3 #fanfic #evan rosier #barty x evan #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #tender curiosities baby #regulus black #cress' ahb reviews

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the-type-a · 1 year

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I’m curious, does anyone have any HCs for anyone’s birthdays?

I only have them for my top five. (Though I do have a general list of zodiac signs for more characters. I just care about these ones the most)

Courtney: September 22, 1991

Courtney is a September Virgo. It’s just the law, cry about it. Personally, I chose this date because 22 is an important number in my life and Courtney is my ultimate favorite fictional character. 💜 Also, Courtney absolutely would be born on a even numbered day, and it happens to be when there was a Full Moon.

Duncan: October 23, 1991

I went back and forth on whether or not he’d be an October or November Scorpio. Ultimately, October made more sense. Though I did want to kinda make it a joke that he would want to be an October Scorpio and is always pissed about it. Oh well. Duncan was absolutely born on a Full Moon too. I also love the idea of him being the youngest of the group AND younger than Courtney. He’d hate being called the baby, but it would shut him up so quick—it’s just funny to me. I know for a fact Duncan would call Courtney a cougar for shits and giggles even though she’s only a month and a day older than him. I can just hear them:

Duncan: Sup cougar.

Courtney: Duncan, I am only a month older than you!

Duncan: A month and one day, cougar!

Courtney: I fucking hate you.

Duncan: Aw, I love you too.

Bridgette: June 30, 1991

Bridgette’s 100% a water sign. She’s intuitive, has a good heart, and always willing to put the people she loves first. She was also born on a Waning Gibbous Moon. Which is cool when you read about Geoff’s!

Geoff: April 17, 1991

Just like Duncan, it is so funny to me for Geoff to be the oldest in the group. Our little Geoffy likes the “But who’s the oldest?” line, but ultimately we know who’s really in charge lmao. He’s an April Aries who is always willing to try new things because of, “The experience, dude!” Now, talking about his moon phase. He was born on a Waxing Crescent Moon, which is the complete opposite of Bridgette’s. WHICH if you follow that TikTok trend— means they are soulmates. I just think that’s really beautiful for them, the universe (TikTok) thinks they are made for one another.

DJ: June 23, 1991

I debated on DJ being a Cancer or Pisces, but knowing how Pisces men are?? Cancer it is! I like this a little more for him because it gives him and Bridgette and closer friendship. I can see the two of them being best friends before any of the rest. Plus, they would love to celebrate their birthdays together. DJ was born on a Waxing Crescent Moon.

Now when I write fanfics I definitely switch the years around for whatever I’m feeling. But if I’m ever talking about the show in a general sense this is how I imagine it. Idk.

Also, I really don’t care about the whole total drama year timeline thing. It gives me a headache so I just go by the show airing in 2007 and them being 16. 😂

#total drama #td courtney #td duncan #td bridgette #td geoff #td dj #total drama courtney #total drama duncan #total drama bridgette #total drama geoff #total drama dj #headcanon #killer bass #killer bass 5 #kb5 #duncney #gidgette

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raised-u-fr0m-perdition · 2 months

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we could be more | dean winchester | 11

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

HUNTED

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : BELIEVER - IMAGINE DRAGONS

“Beanie?” Dean padded down the stairs, the first one up after me. I looked up from my churro, blinking. The first thing I noticed was that Dean was shirtless.

And I’m not complaining. Dude’s jacked as hell.

“Yeah?” I replied, drinking my morning coffee.

“Can we talk?”

“Sure.” He picked his shirt off the sofa, slipping it on and sitting down in front of me. He cleared his throat, looking awkward.

“Dad told me something before he died. About Sammy.”

“What’d he say?” I frowned, passing him a couple of churros.

”That he wanted me to watch out for him, to take care of him. And I had to save him, and if I couldn’t…”

“What do you have to do, Dean?” I asked, leaning forward.

“If I can’t save him, I need to kill him.”

“What?!”

“I know, I-“

“Sorry, Dean, but your dad was knee-deep in bull.” I scoffed. “Asking someone to kill his own brother- is he insane?!”

“I wish to God he’d never opened his mouth.” Dean whispered. “Cause if Sam’s supposed to go dark side, I don’t wanna pull the trigger.“

“He won’t, and I’ll personally make sure of it.” I started pacing. “I know he meant a lot to you, but if my dad told me to put a bullet through Carter if he ever went AWOL, I’d tell him to go to hell.”

“Sadly, he’s already in hell.”

“Dean, you can’t follow through with this.”

“It’s an order.”

“To hell and back with the order!” I burst out. “Gain some independence from John Winchester, Dean. He gave you a tall order, a really tall order, and you can’t do this to Sam. You just can’t.”

“How are you so sure?” Dean whispered.

“Because I know Dean Winchester. And you know yourself too.” I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Saving people, hunting things, it’s in your blood, trust me, it’s in mine too, but one of the things you hunt can never be Sam.”

“What am I gonna do without you, Beanie?”

“Crash and burn.” I smiled, then kissed him on the cheek. “Now, c’mon, enjoy your churro. I stocked up on chocolate milk as well.”

“Where’s mine?” Sam asked, strolling into the kitchen in his outdoor clothes. I took two bottles of chocolate milk out of the fridge, tossing them to Sam and Dean. “What about your dad?”

“I’m gonna let him sleep in.”

“And I’m going to get some groceries.” He left, and I bit into a churro, raising an eyebrow.

“BEANIE?!” I heard once I came back from the nearby gym. Dean rushed down the stairs, fuming.

“What?!” I yelled back, putting the Mustang’s keys in the key dish.

“Sam hasn’t come back for a few hours.”

“Guy’s a ‘go on a walk’ type of dude. He’s 23, Dean, he can go out on his own.”

“No, this is different.” Dean refused. “He just happens to go missing after I tell him that I have to put a bullet through him.”

“Yeah, cause that’s not a reason to run away from your potential murderer.” I sighed, then took the Impala keys from the dish. “Get dressed, we’re going to find him.”

I called Ellen, and she picked up the phone almost immediately. Sam had now been missing for over a day, and we’d been trying his cell and driving around everywhere to find him.

“Hi, Ellen. I’m guessing Sam isn’t getting groceries.” I started, my voice hard. “He was with you, wasn’t he?”

‘Yeah, he was. He made me promise not to tell you where he is.’

“Ellen. Something could be going on, and if Sam’s in danger, we need to find him.”

‘They do say that you can’t protect your loved ones forever. Well, I say screw that, what’s family for?’

“Then where is he?”

‘He’s in Lafayette, Indiana.’

“Thanks, Ellen. Bye.” I smiled, then cut the call. “Lafayette, Indiana. The trail should be easy when we’re at Lafayette; I know someone who can locate him.”

”Alright.” Dean floored it, and I played the radio. “Do you have an idea of what Sam’s after in Indiana?”

“Sam’s had a fixation on people like him for ages.” I opened Carl’s box, tapping him to wake him up. “Maybe he called Ellen to talk to Ash to at least find the people who fit into his bracket. Fire at 6 months old, born in ‘83, the works.” Carl sprang up, flying around. “Hey, Carl, can you tell us exactly where in Lafayette Sam is?” Carl wrote down the name of a motel on my hand, and I nodded at it.

“He’s at a motel.”

“Well, that’s where we’re going.”

We were about to pull up at Blue Rose motel, then Dean turned to me. “Hey, Beanie?”

“Yeah?” I smiled.

“Have you ever wondered what your life would be… if you hadn’t started hunting?”

“It’s…” I paused, “it’s hard to imagine that. It’s a part of me now, I guess. Plus, I don’t wanna imagine a poor, helpless, damsel-in-distress Ivonne Rainer.”

“That goes against nature.” He grinned.

“Oh, by the way, I have a present.”

“What’s that?” I jammed a beanie on Dean’s head, making me laugh.

“Now I can call you Deanie.”

“No-“

“Too late, Deanie.” We found Blue Rose motel, and the first room we saw had Sam framed in the window.

“Oh, thank god you’re ok.” Dean grinned, sighing in relief. Then Sam shifted, revealing a woman next to him. “Oh, you’re more than ok. Sam, you sly dog.”

“Dean, let’s just find out the situation-“ A bullet ripped through their window, coming from the rooftop. I spotted a familiar face, my blood boiling. “It’s Gordon. I’ll get Sam and the girl to safety. You go after him!” We went separate ways, me sprinting across the car park and reaching Sam, busting open the door. “Get down!” I pulled them both to the floor, setting myself up at the window and aiming to shoot, but Gordon and Dean were both gone.

“Ivy?” Sam panted.

“Yeah, it’s me.” I stood up, storing my handgun. “Real smartass, aren’t you? Leaving without telling us.”

“Who’s us?” He frowned. “Where’s Dean?”

“On that rooftop, fighting Gordon Walker.” I gestured. “It makes sense. He tried to waste me too, the day that dreamwalker came after me. A bullet just grazed me. Could have killed me.”

“I’m still here.” The girl huffed. “We almost got killed! Cracked and turned into omelettes! And who are you, Jamie Bond?”

“My name’s Ivy.”

“Ava.”

“Alright, now we need to get you to a safe location.” I picked out one of the keys from my safe house key ring, turning to him. “Follow me. A friend of mine has a garage here we can swipe a car from.”

We got to the safe house an hour later, and I slammed the door when everyone was inside, drawing the blinds and checking all the doors.

“Are we safe?” Ava asked, looking around cautiously.

“You are, but he isn’t.” I rounded on Sam, who shrunk back. “Samuel William Winchester, what the hell were you thinking?!”

“That I needed to find others like me!” Sam protested, but I made a motion for him to zip it.

“That means you weren’t thinking, because in case you haven’t noticed, a hell lot of of people want us dead! Including a yellow-eyed man who seems to be everywhere at this point.” I pulled out my phone, dialling Dean. “I’m finding out where your brother is, and fast.” I put the phone to my ear, pacing back and forth while Sam looked terrified.

‘Hello?’ Dean answered, his voice strained a bit.

“Dean, it’s me.”

‘Hey, Beanie. D’you find Sam?’

”Course I did.”

‘Glad you did. It’s a real funky town.’

“Listen, Dean, where are you?”

‘I'm at, uh, 5637 Monroe St. Why don't you meet me here?’

“I’m coming to get you. Sit tight, don’t open your mouth too often or you’ll get shot.”

‘Ok, good. Come with Sammy, why don’t you? I wanna see my little brother again.’

“Sure, I’ll bring him. Bye.”

‘Bye.’

I cut the call, then turned to Sam. “Well, Dean’s being held at gunpoint. He gave the codeword. Funky town.”

”Funky town?” Ava frowned.

“Long story.” Sam grimaced.

”If we survive this,” I said through gritted teeth and pointing at him, “I’m killing you. But Gordon’s first on my list.”

“I don't think I should leave.” Ava sighed as she approached her Beetle.

“We need you out of harm’s way.” Sam reasoned.

“What about you two?”

“Girl, I am harm’s way.” I chuckled. “We’ll be fine.”

“No, but you are walking right into my vision. I mean, this is how you die.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Sam shrugged. “It’s my brother.”

“I could help!”

“You've done all you can. Just, just go back to your fiancé.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure. Go home, Ava. You'll be safe there.”

Ava got into her car, closing the door but leaning out of her window. “Well, just, promise me you'll call, then. I mean, when you get your brother, just to let me know that everything's all right.”

“I promise.” She drove off, leaving Sam and I.

“She seems nice.” I smiled. “Now, c’mon, let’s save Dean.”

We arrived at the location Dean was held, going around the back and checking the boarded up window.

“Y’know, another person on my hit list would’ve been Carter Rainer.” I heard Gordon announce loudly. “But… uh… he didn’t live, thank the Lord. So, and here’s an ‘I’ll be damned’ moment, those sicko powers of his were transferred. It’s like the devil replaced him to find a new warrior for his army. Replaced him with his ruthless fighter of an older sister, Ivonne Rainer. She’s the second, Dean, as dangerous as Sammy Winchester, maybe even more. Though I heard the devil wasn’t that happy with her nowadays, but she’s one of them. And she’ll get her powers back anytime soon.”

“Dean’s there.” I mouthed, and Sam nodded. We found another window, and he picked the lock, and the window had enough crawl space for us both to get in. I climbed in lightly first, while Sam came in after. He was about to take one step when I stopped him, gesturing to the thin wire there. We took cover, and I, after putting a suppressor on my bullets, shot at the explosives, making them blow up. Sam found another one, so he took off his boots, lighting them on fire for a moment and going with me as far away from the explosives as possible. I fired again, blowing a large hole in the wall opposite. I jumped and held onto a beam on the ceiling, monkey-barring to the other side without making a sound. Gordon walked in, and Sam jumped out, holding a gun to him.

“Shouldn’t go barefoot.” Gordon chuckled. “You’ll get tetanus.”

I came out, holding my handgun. “Tetanus should be the least of your worries.”

“Ivonne Rainer.”

“Who else?” I nudged the barrel against the back of his head. “Just remember that this is there, because I won’t hesitate to pull the trigger if you try anything.”

“Or will you-“

“I’ve been waiting for this moment, Gordon, so don’t test my resolve.”

“Put it down now!” Sam yelled, and Gordon put his rifle down slowly.

“You wouldn't shoot me, would you, Sammy?” He chuckled. “Because your brother, he thinks you're some kind of saint.”

“Yeah? I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“See, that's what I said.” Gordon pushed me into the wall, my forehead knocking into the wood as I swivelled from the impact, and knocked the gun out of Sam’s hands, attacking him methodically until Sam fell flat on his back. He pulled out his knife, advancing slowly. “You're no better than the filthy things you hunt.” I hooked my forearm around Gordon’s neck, pulling him back and away from Sam. We went back towards the wall, and I pointed my gun to his head. “Shoot then, Ivy. Show Dean-o and little Sammy what kind of a killer you are. Maybe even little boy Carter in hell.” In a fit of rage, I jerked Gordon’s head back, slamming it against the wall, then struck my gun across his face and knocking him out.

“It’s Ivonne to you.” I panted, wiping his blood off my gun and my forehead. “God, I hate you so much.” We hobbled over to where Dean was tied up, his face streaked with tears. “Hey, Dean. We’re alive, look.” We untied his arms, and he hurriedly undid his gag, standing up and checking mine and Sam’s injuries. “We’re fine. Only a few scratches.” He turned to go where Gordon was, but I stopped him.

“That son of a…”

“Don’t.” I sighed, then cocked my gun. “We’ve got plans.” I lifted my gun, aiming for Gordon’s foot and shooting, going right into the middle. “Now he can’t run. Sam’s idea, not mine. I said I’d kill him.”

“Come on.” Sam urged, and we all started to amble outside. However, the moment we thought we were in the clear, Gordon limped outside, going haywire with his guns.

“YOU SAID HE WAS TAKEN CARE OF!” Dean yelled as we dived for cover.

“I’m coming for you, Ivy Rainer!” Gordon shouted, still going nuts.

“Sam, if we die,” I growled, “I’m killing you in heaven.”

“Just trust me on this, all right?” Sam whispered, and then police cars pulled up, arresting Gordon. They pulled out the weapon compartment in his car, revealing everything. “Anonymous tip.”

“Sam,” Dean chuckled, “you’re a fine, upstanding citizen.”

“You two are stupid.” I laughed, running a hand through my hair. “Being friends with you should come with a warning label.”

“Too late. You’re 30 days past the return expiry date.”

I got home, meeting Dad. “Gordon Walker was after you?!” He exclaimed, pacing back and forth. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that could have been?”

“I wouldn’t have beat him to hell and back if I didn’t know.” I retorted.

“Jellybean, I know that you’re 27 now.” He vouched, stopping and staring at me intently. “But you’re still my daughter, and Gordon is like the bad news of bad news.”

“Bad news is in jail, now.” I scoffed. “I’m not in danger anymore-“

“Yes, you are!” He snapped. “You made a deal in exchange for your mother’s necklace. You shouldn’t have done that, now you’re in even more danger!”

“Like?!”

“I gifted that to your mother to protect her from dreamwalker possession. I got it to Ellen through a friend and told her to give it to you when you came around.”

I stared at him, horrified.

“WHAT?!”

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#dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x oc #spn #spn masterlist #dean winchester x you #supernatural #supernatural oc

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queerfootfella · 10 months

Text

Ethan lagged behind Braeden as the 23-year-old led his buddy down a bike trail in the local park. Sweaty from walking in the muggy weather, Ethan wiped his forehead. The reason for the trip was to muck up Braeden’s feet, so he was glad the weather was good for something. A generous request for a video of Braeden’s dirty feet was submitted to his OnlyFans. Ethan was his only friend who knew about this stream of income and was happy to oblige when he asked for help.

“Why don’t you start shooting here, dude?” suggested Braeden. “I haven’t seen anybody pass for a while. Get low to the ground and focus on my feet,”

“Got it. You gonna tell me when to stop, or should I film all the way to the bench?”

“All the way to the bench, then we can stop. I need to put my little microphone on for the verbal part,”

“Sounds good. I’ll count you down when you’re ready,”

“Thanks again for doing this, dude. I don’t know how I would have filmed this on my own. Ready to go when you are,”

“No problem! Okay – five, four, three, two,” said Ethan as he sank into a squat. He whispered one and Braeden slowed his gait so his cameraman could keep up. He tapped the feet on the center of Braeden’s iPhone 14 to focus the camera and hit record.

Finally, Ethan thought, Braeden was telling him to look at his feet. He’d made a nasty habit lately out of coveting them secretly. It wasn’t just the feet themselves that drove him crazy, though they were certainly beautiful – size 13, long toes, smooth soles, and well-defined arches. No, what mesmerized Ethan was the way Braeden endlessly moved his feet. If his feet were out in front of him, he would curl and spread his toes. When he was sitting with his feet beneath him, he would use his hands to stretch his toes and crack his knuckles; he liked to use his big toe to pop his second when his hands weren’t within reach. The motion of and attention to his own feet was near constant, and Ethan had a tough time not fixating on it.

Now that he was behind a camera, his job was to document those very toe fidgets and sole scrunches. Just watching him walk was so hot, how to film them came naturally. Every few steps, Braeden would slow to just before a stop. Sometimes, he’d leave one foot in mid-step to show the camera his progressively grimier soles. Each time he stopped, Ethan inched toward them until the bare foot was front and center. He held on to every detail until Braeden walked again. With each fresh start, Ethan found a new angle to feature. Once, he focused on his legs and ass walking. Another time, he moved slightly in front of him to show the tops of his feet. It felt like a dance: Ethan’s partner was the air between Braeden’s soles and the ground and the beat was feet slapping against concrete.

As Braeden turned toward the destination bench and off the pavement, he measured his steps even more precisely. Ethan made a point of getting a close shot of his soles walking across actual earth. Rocks were sticking to his sweaty soles. They looked even more pillowy with pebbles sinking into them. Ethan circled around to film in front of Braeden as he approached the bench. He sat and crossed one foot over the other, which Ethan zoomed in close on. He pulled the camera outward until just before his head was in frame and hit the record button once more.

“And, cut!” said Ethan, “You wanna see it?”

“Yeah, actually. If it didn’t turn out, we can try again on the walk back,” Braeden took his phone back from Ethan.

“I hope it did, my legs are fucking tired from that squat shit,”

Braeden laughed and sat down on the bench, flexing his foot. “I appreciate it so much, man. Imagine trying to film this by yourself with a selfie stick! I would look insane if I got caught. At least this way, you could back me up and tell them I’m doing it for money,”

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t know what to say if I got caught like that,” Ethan said. It would be a dream to catch you filming your own feet in the park and I don’t know how I’m going to stop myself from licking them, he thought.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soon after he met Braeden in college, Ethan noticed how nice his feet were. He always noticed how nice people’s feet were. Generally, he tried to avoid taking too keen an interest in his friends’ feet. Foot fetishists have a creepy reputation already, and Ethan didn’t want to be thought of like that. Besides that, Ethan had gotten close with Braeden. He wasn’t about to ruin a good friendship because he wanted to suck toes. There were plenty of other toes to suck.

However, one afternoon at Braeden’s apartment, he got a little too nosy. Ethan had always wondered how he afforded so many shoes and video games. The few times he asked about it, Braeden was dodgy. Never close to a satisfactory answer. He’d always had more money than Ethan and their other friends in college, and Braeden claimed for years that all he did was wait tables.

“Okay, seriously, how did you afford a new PC? Didn’t you get a PS5 like six months ago?”

“Working at the restaurant, dude! People like to tip young, strapping men like yours truly,”

“Of course,” Ethan laughed, “but it’s not just the games, or even the shoes and the games. I mean, this apartment is nice as hell! And we hang out too much for you to work much more than like 25 or 30 hours a week. I don’t want to pry, but I’ve always wondered. I’ll only judge if it sounds exceptionally dangerous,”

Braeden looked at Ethan for a few seconds. “Okay, fine. But this stays between us,”

“Of course! I’m not looking for gossip. Maybe some finance tips,”

“So, um. Have you ever heard of BraxTheeAlpha on Onlyfans?”

Ethan roared, “No way! I haven’t heard of him, but he sounds hot,”

“He’s sort of a hunk, yeah,”

“Is it safe to assume you are Brax?”

“In the flesh,” said Braeden, cartoonishly flexing, “Is it really that surprising?”

“Well, yes and no. I mean, like LMFAO said, you’re sexy and you know it. I just didn’t take you for the type, I guess. I don’t know what the type is, exactly,”

“Young, hot and sort of broke?”

“I’d throw vein in there,” he said, and laughed as Braeden started flexing again, “So, I have two follow up questions,”

“Yes, you can subscribe. It’s ten bucks a month,”

“Wow, affordable!” Ethan took out his phone and pretended to start looking it up, “How do you spell that?”

“B-r-a-x and ‘Thee Alpha’ like ‘Thee Stallion’. No spaces,”

“Got it. I’ll need that for my research,” he said. Lying is easier when you just tell the truth as a joke, thought Ethan.

“Looking to invest in a local, humble sex worker?”

“No, just trying to figure out how much money my friend makes from selling access to what type of pornography,”

“Okay, I’ll start with the less embarrassing part. I make about six thousand a month from posting: fourty-five hundred or so from monthly subscriptions and around two thousand from tips, used socks, custom videos, other fetishy content. Give or take a couple hundred,”

“Damn, that is definitely not embarrassing,”

“Nah, it’s tight. But I make… foot fetish videos,”

Ethan’s eyes got wide. “Damn, no way! I knew people liked feet, but I didn’t realize you could cash in like that without showing hole,” he lied. “I don’t think that’s embarrassing,”

Braeden laughed, “Well, I guess I don’t think of it like that as much anymore. I mean, the feet are where the money’s at. There’s just that connotation, you know? I got a couple foot people in my Instagram comments and DM’s freshman year of college. I thought it was super weird and just hid the comments at first. Then, some of them started offering money. I got talking to this one dude who bought pictures and he told me I should start a foot page or OnlyFans or something. Eventually, I did. It started as something to do for a little extra spending money, but the shit took off after a couple years of doing it. Now, I have this whole separate online foot master persona. When I graduated college, I just told my boss I was gonna take an extra two years for a graduate program and needed to stay part time. I do like 20 hours a week at the restaurant, but most of my money comes from the same amount of time doing stuff for the OnlyFans. If it keeps going well, I might just do it full time,”

“Damn, I don’t blame you if you’re making that much. Still, 20 hours a week? What takes so long?”

“Well, I’m counting going to the gym. I always wanted to go more during college anyway, and these foot dudes will pay for your used socks, sweaty underwear, videos of my feet in the gym mirror – they love that jock alpha shit. The more in shape I am, the more money I make. Filming and editing the videos takes some time, posting on Twitter, Instagram and OnlyFans regularly, responding to DM’s, video calls. I’ve had to coordinate a couple meetups with people to film videos. It’s all pretty fun, to be honest. I’ve gotten into it more than I ever thought I would. Plus, it’s way easier than finding a ‘real job’.”

“Honestly, dude, that’s sweet. If you like doing it and you can make that much with it, why not,” Ethan thought he was holding it together pretty well.

Relieved, Braeden reached over to slap Ethan’s hand and said, “Thanks, man! I’m honestly glad you asked. It feels good to tell somebody in real life,”

“Yeah, dude, glad you told me! I can’t believe I’ve been hanging out with a foot celebrity for all these years,”

“Y’know, since you reacted so cool, do you think you’d ever be willing to help me film some things? I can get most of it done on my own, but I’ve had to decline a few offers because I couldn’t film something right. I’d give you a quarter of the profit from whatever videos you help with,”

“Oh, sure, dude, whatever you need!” That felt too eager. “Well, maybe not anything,” he turned red and added, “but I can help you film for a little money,”

“Nothing too crazy, I just need somebody to film while I’m walking or moving or whatever. Or while somebody is licking my feet. You don’t have to get your tongue dirty if you don’t want to,” Braeden winked, his last sentence delivered with a bit of BraxTheeAlpha arrogance.

“I can help with the camera, I would need a bigger cut of the money to go that far,” Ethan laughed, his cheeks ripening still.

“Nah, I have plenty of people willing to do that part for free,”

“Clearly! They pay you just to look at them,”

“Exactly. You’ll have to do a lot more than lick my feet and help me film here and there to get a chunk of the BraxTheeAlpha empire,” Braeden’s joking condescension felt more genuine with each sentence.

Ethan felt compelled to follow this dominant streak to see where it might lead, but he couldn’t bring himself to submit to his friend like that. “Alrighty, if the all-powerful BraxTheeAlpha needs any help taking videos of his feet for horny men on the internet, he can let me know,” Ethan chided.

Braeden laughed hard at that and said, “For sure, man, I will,”

Ethan waited three days to subscribe to BraxTheeAlpha on OnlyFans after that. His username was EthanLovesToes, but his profile picture was of an anonymous man’s feet and his page contained no identifying information. The topic never came up between them, so Ethan assumed Braeden didn’t make the connection. The thought of telling Braeden about his foot fetish crossed Ethan’s mind pretty often once he knew about his profession. On one hand, he loved Braeden as a friend. They were both single, open-minded people, but they’d never had a sexual relationship at all. On top of that, Ethan wasn’t sure how much, if any, of Braeden’s motivation for running the page was sexual. At the same time, Ethan couldn’t help but think about the potential of getting more intimate with Braeden’s feet.

The first time Braeden asked for help was about two weeks after Ethan found out about BraxTheeAlpha. They were hanging out at Braeden’s apartment and about an hour in, Braeden told him that he either needed to leave within ten minutes or record somebody worshipping his feet. Ethan agreed to stay. The man was only there for about half an hour and Ethan, the only person there not wearing an elastic mask, was introduced as ‘Master’s friend and cameraman’. Although there was a dream scenario unfolding in front of him, Ethan’s focus was strictly on filming a good video; as much as he could, he tuned out the verbal admonishment Braeden’s sub was receiving. He knew he’d be able to watch the video later on, he figured, why risk popping a hardon? What if he got too horny and outed his fetish? When the man left the guys joked around about it for a bit, but Ethan changed the subject as soon as he could. Just keep saying yes, Ethan reasoned, even if you never do anything but help him film here and there, maybe an opportunity will present itself. Braeden asked him to help record a video of him walking barefoot in Carson Park the next week.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Speaking of not knowing what to say, try not to get weirded out by the dirty feet talk you’re about to hear. The dude who bought this video said don’t hold back on the humiliation,” said Braeden as he handed his phone back to Ethan, “That looks great, by the way. That would have been impossible for me to get alone,”

“All in a day’s work,” Ethan said with a coy smile.

“I’m impressed you know how these foot freaks like their videos. It took a lot of trial and error, and comments and DMs from horny foot dudes, for me to figure it out,”

“Heh, I guess I just have an artist’s eye,” Braeden laughed at that, and Ethan hoped that meant he played it off well.

“I’ll say,” he replied. “Okay, frame it so my feet are about center, and make sure it cuts off somewhere between my shoulders and neck,” Braeden dug around in his canvas tote until he found his microphone. “Oh, and feel free to move the camera around a little bit, but make sure stick around for a while on each angle. I need to get screenshots for the socials,”

“What a marketing king. Tell me when you’re ready,”

“Ready!”

“Okay – five, four, three, two,” he pointed at Braeden and hit record. Though he’d been scrunching his toes absentmindedly since he sat down, Braeden started exaggerating the stretches and wiggles for the camera.

He began, “I hope you knew what you were in for when you asked to clean my dirty feet, boy. These fuckers need a lot of TLC. You’re not finished until every inch is spotless,”

With that, Ethan brought the camera in close and swept the view across Braeden’s soles to show all the dirt some internet sub paid to imagine he was cleaning.

After a robust silence filled with a medley of teasing foot wiggles, Braeden continued, “It’s probably killing you that you can’t do anything about it. Helplessly masturbating behind a screen, knowing that a washcloth in my shower is going to receive the honor of revealing the smooth soles beneath this dirt instead of your tongue,”

He wasn’t kidding when he said he had gotten into this, Ethan thought. The first time he filmed, having to focus on shooting Braeden’s feet around some dude’s head helped keep him from getting into the content. Today, it was just him and the dirty soles of BraxTheeAlpha. Ethan pulled the camera back a bit. Taking his body with the phone, he lowered the camera below Braeden’s crossed soles. He made sure the shot was focused, then looked up at Braeden for the first time since the video began. The self-assured smile on his face made Ethan’s dick twitch. His eyes shot back at the phone.

“How sad. I’m sure you’re fucking leaking just imagining this dirt,” he rubbed his feet together, “sprinkling onto your pathetic face,” Braeden spat at the ground. The loogie landed less than a foot from Ethan’s face. “Loser,” Ethan looked for Braeden’s eyes after that line and found them staring back at him. Braeden maintained that cocky expression and resumed, “I mean, seriously. Aren’t you like 50 and married? And you’re paying some 23-year-old on OnlyFans $50 for two three-minute videos of his filthy feet? You could take that money and go spend a nice date night with your wife, or maybe save it up for a gift for her. Instead, you want to give it to me, so you can pound your piggy little cock looking at my fuckin’ feet,” Braeden laughed at the idea, “That’s incredible, truly. At this rate, I can’t imagine what you would pay me to come treat you like the dog you are in real life. You’d probably even let me fuck that wife of yours if I wanted to! For now, I’m happy just fucking your wallet,”

Despite the specificities, Ethan was just as hypnotized by the degradation as he imagined the cuck buying the video would be. He was fully hard by the end of the monologue and had to get creative to make his final camera angle shift without showing it. He backed the camera up as he moved into a squat, dick secure against his waistband, and panned the camera upward.

“Come back down here, bitch, I need you up close and personal. You have to kiss the soles gracing your screen before I finish up,” Albeit he was making eye contact before, this statement felt more like it was directed at the customer and the cameraman. He looked up to see Braeden smile and wink, then motion his head downward, eyebrows raised. Ethan did as he was instructed and sank back into his previous position.

“There you go. C’mon, even closer,” Ethan scooted forward, his hand now an inch from the evaporating loogie, “Now plant a big wet kiss on that screen, pig. Mhm, good boy,” Braeden raised his feet in the air, “Now wave goodbye! Oh, I forgot to mention, you owe me $25 if you came the first time through,”

Braeden set his feet down, but Ethan kept filming. He barely noticed Braeden was trying to wrap it up he was so fixated on the iPhone screen.

“Cut, buddy! That was over three minutes, right?”

Ethan scrambled to end the recording and check. He stammered, “Uh, yeah, it was 3:23,” and hopped to his feet. His brain was having trouble breaking out of BraxTheeAlpha’s enchantment.

“Sweet! I hope it wasn’t too weird that I was looking at you. It helped me get into the verbal, so thanks,” Braeden’s expression had softened some, but with his ankles crossed and soles facing him, he still carried a superior glow.

“Oh yeah, man, it was, uh, I mean, I sorta figured that,”

“Let me see the video, dude!”

Ethan handed him the phone and Braeden started skimming through. He brushed the dirt off his shirt. “I tried to get a couple different angles,”

“You did!” he said, scrubbing through, “I like it. And this last one will be great for the screenshots. Okay, great, let’s get out of here,” Braeden unclipped his microphone and returned it to the bag. After he pulled out his slides, he brushed the dirt off his soles and placed each foot in a sandal. “You good, dude? You’re kind of staring,”

“Yeah, um, I was just waiting for you,”

“Look man. If you’re not gonna say it, I need to ask – are you into feet?”

“How – what?”

“So yes, then,” Braeden paused for a response and continued when he didn’t get one, “It’s not a big deal! I love dudes with foot fetishes. I mean, I’ve made a career off the guys, for god’s sake,”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you; I didn’t want you to think me being into your feet was part of why we were friends or anything like that, but when you told me about this and asked for help, I couldn’t say no,”

“Oh, I could tell! I had absolutely no idea you were into feet before you were excited to help me film so quickly. I’d assume if you were perving on my feet before that, you would have done something creepy already,”

“You knew that long ago?”

“Well, no, but that was the first little clue. Then, I thought it was a funny coincidence that somebody called EthanLovesToes subscribed to me just a few days after I told you about the page,”

“I figured that Ethan’s a common name…”

“Right, so did I. I didn’t even think much of it when that worship video turned out so good, because I figured the idea of filming the feet and not the head was pretty easy. It was when the video of my soles walking was so perfect. It took forever for me to get how I should film for the OnlyFans. After that, it all sort of came together in my brain. So, during the video, I made sure to pay attention to how you were reacting. When I say visibly horny, I need you to know just how much I mean that,”

Ethan’s face burned through his shy smile. “I was trying so hard to hide it!” he said, and Braeden laughed.

“Well,” Braeden stood up and walked over to Ethan, “there’s not a ton of great ways to hide that,” he said, pointing to the vertical lump in Ethan’s shorts.

“Listen,”

“Let’s walk back to the car. I have way too many ideas, and as much as you love my feet, I don’t know if you want the world to see those ideas,”

“Okay…” of course, Ethan was going to follow. He just couldn’t find any words. He would pay good money to watch the porno flick that he was living and breathing. The two started back toward the parking lot, toward a situation too good to be true.

“Do you have any other plans today, bud?”

“Um, not really. I was just gonna go play some games when we were done hanging,”

“Perfect! What game are you playing right now?”

“Oh, nothing new, just Dota,”

Braeden kept the small talk going as Ethan tried to make sure this was all still real. He wasn’t dumb; he knew Braeden finding out was a possibility. What he couldn’t believe was how perceptive he had been. The boner was a bit of a giveaway, but it sounded like Braeden knew before that. Regardless, judging by his reaction, Ethan should have drooled over them from the start.

As the driver’s side door closed, Ethan opened his door. By the time he was sitting, Braeden’s dirtied feet were hovering above the seat. He waited to get in and looked at his friend behind the wheel.

“Go on and sit down, Ethan! If at any point I go too far, say ‘banana’, and we can split,”

“Very clever safe word,” he said, sliding underneath his feet. There wasn’t much loose dirt left sticking to them, but his soles were still stained brown. “I never thought I’d say something like that to you,” Ethan chuckled.

“Same here, but sexy times call for sexy measures! Here’s the deal, Ethan: BraxTheeAlpha has been growing, but I haven’t been able to find the extra time to spend on it. I’m gaining followers, but I know if I were posting more often, and added new types of content, I could grow even faster and net more money from that growth. That’s where I see you coming in. Start massaging my feet if you’re intrigued,”

Ethan let hardly a second pass before he grabbed Braeden’s left foot and began to rub.

“Great! So, it’s been a struggle to find anyone because, while I make good money, I don’t make enough to lop off a living wage to pay somebody to help me out,” Ethan switched to Braeden’s right foot, “The only subs I talk to online who I think would do it for, let’s say alternative compensation, live too far away for that to be possible. Pop my right big toe in your mouth and start sucking if you see where I’m going and want to hear what I have in mind,”

This time, Ethan hesitated. Braeden just raised his eyebrows and waited, pointing the toe toward him. Timidly, Ethan leaned forward. He let his lips rest on the top of Braeden’s toe for a moment before he welcomed it into his mouth.

“I want you to record and edit all my pictures and videos,” Braeden began, maintaining eye contact as Ethan listened to his potential duties and swirled his tongue around the big toe. “We can schedule one or two times a week to record. I’ll still come up with some ideas for content, but I definitely want your input. You’ll manage my Instagram, Twitter and OnlyFans as well. Still interested, Ethan?”

He nearly spat Braeden’s toe out before he realized he wasn’t given a new command. Ethan nodded.

“Good – you had the right idea, left big toe now,”

Ethan’s right hand kept a grip on Braeden’s sole as he pulled the cleaned toe from his mouth. He used his other hand to bring his left toe to his mouth for the same treatment.

“Each new video, unless it’s a custom, needs to have a preview posted. I’ll leave editing them down to your discretion, just make sure it’s hard to cum without the full video,” Ethan laughed through the toe at that requirement. Braeden smiled and reasoned, “It’s good business!”

He took the toe out of his mouth but left his lips brushing against the bottom. “Hey, you’re the expert, I believe you,” said Ethan. When he finished speaking, he put it back in to signal Braeden to continue.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he snickered, “Sometimes I’ll just do a photoshoot – I like those to be between 15 and 20 pictures. Post one to four on Twitter and Instagram. For either video or photo previews, use the OnlyFans caption for the post and link the OnlyFans in the replies on Twitter and on Instagram Stories. I’d imagine you’re still in – start giving my other toes some love if I’m right,”

With a smack, Ethan removed the big toe and eyed up the second. First, he darted his tongue in the space between the toes. Satisfied it was clean, he engulfed the second toe and looked back toward Braeden.

“Ethan, I think you may be the man for this job,” Ethan smiled and started cleaning between Braeden’s second and third toe. “A couple more things, though. Like I said, I’ll still come up with ideas for videos, but I want you to compile any ideas or custom requests you find in my replies or my DM’s. Bring them to our recording sessions, as well as any messages or comments you think I might want to respond to personally. I’ll start signing the posts and replies that come directly from me,” he paused and waited for Ethan to look up from sucking the life out of his middle-left toe. “I hope you’re listening,” Ethan nodded, “and I hope you remember I have two more toes on this foot alone,” Braeden teased.

“The thought of it is making it a bit harder to focus,” Ethan admitted.

“You should have plenty of quality time with them to come,” Braeden said, and Ethan slipped his tongue in between the third and fourth toe, “but we have an interview to finish before I offer you this gig,”

“Fair enough, fire away,” Ethan said as he dove onto the fourth toe. He felt Braeden’s pinkie toe wiggling against his cheek.

“I also want you to respond to some of the spammy DM’s and comments. You’re a foot guy, I’m sure you’ll figure that out quickly. I think that’s it for the job description, let’s talk compensation,”

Ethan finished scrubbing between Braeden’s final two toes and said, “I hope I’m getting a preview of the employee benefits right now,” he said, finally taking the pinkie toe in and sucking.

“You read my mind! Specifically, if you don’t feel comfortable being on camera, I’m willing to offer an hour a week after a recording session for you to have your way with them as payment,”

With a sloppy, deliberate slurp, Ethan pulled all five of the toes on Braeden’s left foot out of his mouth and asked, “Can I start sucking the toes on your other foot to find out what I get if I am willing to be on video?” Braeden grinned and nodded, and Ethan dove in.

“I knew I sensed something special in you! Not every video will be a worship video, but a hell of a lot of them will be. If you want to wear a mask, you’re more than welcome. Of course, let me know if a video brushes up on a limit. On top of the private foot worship, I’ll throw in a cut of the profits. If I can make $7k a month, I can quit the restaurant and not lose any money. Anything I make beyond that is yours until we get to a 50/50 split. If you agree to that, I want both of my big toes in your mouth,”

Although he wasn’t even done with the third toe, Ethan couldn’t comply with Braeden’s demand faster. He started sucking both toes and Braeden pinched his cheeks with his big toes and second toes and pulled Ethan in towards him.

“This is going to be a very fun situation for the both of us,” he sneered and pulled his toes out of Ethan’s mouth. Braeden tapped his cheek firmly with the sole of his foot. “I’ll write up an official contract for us to sign next time we meet up,” he said. Ethan started to respond, but Braeden shushed him and placed both soles over his face. He continued, “I’ve been pretty cordial with this so far, but there’s one aspect I haven’t touched. You’re going to have to get comfortable with submitting to me on a regular basis. Nod if you understand,”

After Ethan nodded, Braeden extended his legs and pushed his head back until it was against the window.

“Start licking my soles,” Ethan opened his mouth wide and wiped his tongue against every square inch he could reach in his compromised position. Braeden continued, “We can still be friends, but this arrangement will be more intense than just friends with benefits. Outside of filming sessions, I’ll still call you Ethan and you can call me Braeden. We can hang out and play games! I also want our correspondence during the week about posting to remain professional. However, during filming sessions, from the second you walk in my door until we’re done filming, I will expect a total shift in the power dynamic. You will address me as either Sir or Master, and I will call you whatever demeaning name I see fit. I’ll establish an itinerary before the session, which will begin with your list of custom requests and video suggestions, and we will remain in our Dom and sub roles until the itinerary is complete. Between filming actual videos, I will expect you to remain subservient. You will be instructed to complete tasks outside of what will be posted online. For at least eight hours a week – no mandatory overtime, but there will probably be requests – you will be mine. Since you have tonight free, that begins right now. If you understand, hold my legs up and start licking the rest of my soles clean, boy,”

“Yes, sir,” said Ethan. He took Braeden’s calves in his hands and pulled them from his face, but before he could continue cleaning, his Master delivered a swift slap to his right cheek with his sole. The kick came with far more force than the tap he had just received.

“Remember the safe word, boy, and make sure you thank me when I give you a command,”

“Yes, Sir, thank you, Master,” if it weren’t for his stinging face, Ethan would have pinched himself. With a new fervor from the hit, he dove back in to continue sucking the dirt off Braeden’s soles.

“Good piggy. You’re even more of a duck to water than I’d have thought,” he lifted his foot slightly and bent his toes toward him. Instantly, Ethan started sucking his heel and Braeden laughed. “A duck to water,” he repeated, still chuckling, “I can’t believe I missed out on this for five years,”

Once the heel he’d been offered was clean, Ethan moved Braeden’s feet to the side and said, “Thank you, Sir, I’m so excited to get started.

Braeden giggled and raised his feet back up, “That’s how I know this is going to work out,” he said, then pointed the other heel toward Ethan, who promptly took it upon himself to begin cleaning, “you learned from that slap. Plus, you’re already picking up on those nonverbal cues,” Braeden paused for a moment and Ethan kept licking. Dissatisfied, he took his other foot and slapped Ethan’s left cheek.

“Sorry, Sir. Thank you for the compliment, Master,” Ethan rushed in response before returning to his task. It wasn’t as hard as the first, but still plenty strong enough to relay the message.

“I might have spoken too soon! Try to learn from the slap this time. Now that I’ve got your verbal agreement, we can move onto some foot sub training. It might be a little painful, but I’ll try to avoid visible bruises,”

“Respectfully, Sir, that would be a banana,” Ethan said softly between licks.

“Fair enough, boy, I figured as much. Glad you said it. Though, it’s not gonna be smooth sailing,” he said. To make his point, he took his foot out of Ethan’s mouth and twisted his nipple with his toes through his shirt, causing him to yelp. “Work on cleaning the other foot if you understand,”

Ethan thanked his Master and pulled Braeden’s right foot to his face. Once the toes Ethan hadn’t gotten to clean already were in his mouth, Braeden let go of his nipple.

“Fantastic,” Braeden pulled out his phone and scrolled for a minute while Ethan worked on getting his spotless. The heels and toes were looking clean, so Ethan moved on to the side of Braeden’s right foot. He lowered his phone and gazed out the window, then said, “Sun’s gonna set in about 20 minutes, which means the park’s gonna close. My feet should be clean enough to put back in my sandals by then. If they’re not, you’ll drive me home, get in your car and leave to go edit and send the videos we just made. Tomorrow’s Saturday, so unless you have plans you absolutely can’t get out of, I’ll expect you at seven A.M. sharp to start filming. Well, we’ll start filming time – I’ll have a list of chores and a key under the mat. That should keep you busy until you wake me up at nine to start your, oh, I guess we can call it an orientation,”

“Thank you, Sir,” said Ethan, speaking between licks more fervent than before, “but what if I do have them clean before the park closes?”

“Well, you’d avoid your first real punishment, and playing Dota tonight would turn into some of the more fun parts of that orientation I talked about. I have another custom request to film and a video idea of my own,”

“Perfect, Master, I’ll try to get these cleaned to your liking as hard as I can,”

“That’s the spirit, Feethan!”

Ethan laughed and said, “That’s cute, Sir,”

“Get licking; be a foot scrubber now so you don’t have to be a toilet scrubber later,” Braeden demanded. He turned a playlist on and closed his eyes.

Get licking he did. He wasn’t really worried about the time limit – Braeden’s feet were so close to cleaned. It would be a labor of love to get them across the finish line. Ethan began with the right foot. He gathered as much spit as he could and slobbered it from top to bottom.

Compared to some of the feet Ethan had cleaned, Braeden’s feet weren’t even all that dirty. They were so smooth, and he normally kept them clean, so most of the dirt came away with a few licks. The guy would need to be barefoot a lot longer to challenge Ethan’s veteran tongue. He had the dirtiest spots excavated by the time his Master finished breaking down his new sub role. Now, he just needed to lap up what he missed, which meant he got to explore every inch of Braeden’s sole over and over again. He scrubbed some spots with his tongue. Each problem area would meet Ethan’s circling tongue while his lips sucked at the skin. When he figured he had it clean, he would release the sole and make sure he left only flesh remaining with a final lap. Meticulously, he went about spot checking the right foot for about five minutes in this way. Taking a minute or two to ensure the tops sparkled as the soles did, he then wiped the excess moisture onto his cheek, figuring he wouldn’t be allowed to use his shirt. He finished Braeden’s left foot even faster and used the same cheek method to dry it. Ethan gave them both a final once-over. He glanced out the windshield to check where the sun was at, then back to the feet. Reasoning that his tongue was probably dirtier than the soles at this point, he lowered Braeden’s feet to his chest with the sun inches from the horizon.

“I believe they’re clean, Master, would you like to check?”

“Obviously, boy,” Braeden turned the music down and flipped the overhead light on. His left leg supported by the foot on Ethan’s chest, he grabbed his right foot and crossed it over his knee. Flexing his ankle in every direction, Braeden made a show of inspecting for dirt. He spread his toes and peered between them. Finally, he said, “One down, one to go,” When he switched feet, instead of placing his right foot on Ethan’s chest, he opted for his face. Smothered sideways against the window, Ethan had to listen for the cue that would mean the difference between continuing an unimaginable night at his friend and Master’s feet and a night of homework into an early morning of chores.

“Thank you, Sir,” Ethan managed to say through squished lips. He figured a little gratitude wouldn’t hurt his chances.

“Don’t get used to this, but thank you, pig. You managed to snarf that dirt up so well, I don’t need to shower tonight. Which means you don’t have to do my chores until you screw something else up!”

“Oh, good, Master, thank you! I’m so glad I did well,” he said, still moving his mouth from between foot and glass. Mercifully, Braeden released him. He slipped on his sandals and opened his door.

“Okay, loser, when we’re on filming time, I don’t drive. If I’d known this was gonna happen today, I would have made you drive me in your car. You didn’t know either, so you don’t need to pay for my gas this time. But from here on out, filming time equals your gas,”

“Understood, Sir, thank you for allowing me to drive you,”

“Goddamn, dude, I love that you’re this much of a pig. Thanking me for letting you drive me? That’s dope,” He grabbed his crotch and said, “Y’know, if it’s in bounds, you’re being such a good boy that feet might not be the only thing you suck tonight,”

“Thank you, Master, that is well within bounds. I would be lucky to get to pleasure you like that,”

“You sure would be! But I’m getting ahead of myself. Hop in the driver’s seat and let’s get going. We have a great night ahead of us,”

“Yes, Sir, my pleasure!”

Let me know what you thought of what is potentially part one of BraxTheeAlpha! Probably won't start on a part two for my next story, as I want to write about some different scenario with a foot related Dom/sub dynamic. If you have any good premises, send those in as well!

#gayfeet #gayfootmasters #malefeet #foot world #gayfootlover

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