#since the trailer for heart that skips a beat dropped

[oyeicher]

ฉ่ำ (CHARM) - LYKN x JOONG, POND

[eyesofshinigami]

Boyfriend Privileges

Rating: T

CW: None

Tags: Just getting together, language, fluff

Prompt: For @sparklyslug "Love is letting him pick the music"

WC: 959

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 21

The rules were simple in Steve’s car. Wipe your feet before you get in. No snacks or drinks. And most importantly, don’t touch the fucking radio.

Steve is very particular about his music. He likes what he likes and he won’t hear anything about it. He likes pop music because it’s happy, it’s fun, and it gives him something mindless to sing along to when his head feels too full.

Even when the kids complain, or Robin teases him, Steve is steadfast. Whatever is playing is what’s going to play, and no one is going to be able to say anything about it. 

But then Eddie came crashing into his life like a hurricane. 

Eddie is a lot of things that Steve isn’t. He’s confident and loud, brash and unapologetic in just about everything he does. They’re also the same, sometimes; they’re both scarred, both of them just wanting to be loved, to be understood. 

Falling for Eddie was a quiet thing, for Steve. It crept up on him until one day he looked at Eddie, smiling and laughing as he and the kids were gathered around the table playing their dragons game, and he thought oh. Oh I want to be with this person for the rest of my life. 

That’s where it started, and now they’re here. It’s only been a couple of days since Eddie beat him to the punch and confessed first. They kissed, they touched, and decided that this is something they both wanted. Steve could hardly believe that Eddie wanted him back. 

They hadn’t told the kids yet; not that they were hiding it, but they were both enjoying just being together and figuring out what exactly that meant. But it’s good already, with Eddie giving him a sweet, private smile as he slides into the front seat. Steve had volunteered to pick the whole gaggle of them up from the arcade so he could bring them back to his house for a movie night. 

“Heya Stevie,” Eddie says, pulling his hair across his mouth. It’s enough to make Steve’s heart start beating fast even over the sound of the boys climbing into the backseat. “Happy to see me?”

“Always,” Steve answers honestly. Eddie’s cheeks turn a delightful shade of pink and Steve mourns the fact that he can’t leave over and kiss him. Soon, he tells himself. Once they drop the kids off, they’ll go back to Eddie’s trailer and-

“We’re burning daylight, Steve! I thought we were going to watch a movie or something!” Dustin’s voice breaks through the lovesick haze that had settled over them.

Steve grumbles and turns the car on. “Keep your shirt on, butthead. We’re going now.” That incites another bout of grumbling and arguing from the backseat. “Don’t make me regret offering you guys the chance to use the TV. Or make me consider throwing out all those snacks I bought, or sending the pizza back…” 

Eddie pretends to swoon and presses his hand to his forehead. “Oh no, please, oh gracious King of my Heart! Do not let the ramblings of the peasants cast a shadow upon your infinite kindness and patience!” He looks up at Steve with big, wide eyes that make Steve think a whole lot of other things besides the upcoming movie night. “What can this fair knight do to assuage the slight against your good name?”

“I could think of a few things,” he says, just loud enough for Eddie to hear. It makes a pretty cat-like grin break out across Eddie’s face. Oh, the things they’re going to do later…

Eddie seems to be on the same page, licking his lips as he reaches up to the radio. He pushes the button and pops the tape out, slipping in  the he’d made for Steve the night they decided they wanted to give this a go. It makes Steve’s heart skip a beat. 

It’s probably why it takes him so long to realize that the backseat has gone completely silent. No squabbling, so arguing, no nothing. Dead silent. Eddie picks up on it too, turning around in his seat to stare at them. “Did someone press the mute button? What gives?”

“You touched the radio,” comes Will’s voice from the back, sounding awed. 

“Yeah? And? Steve always lets me put music on.”

That gets a reaction. Dustin and Mike start squawking protests. “What the hell, Steve?? You never let us pick the music? You don’t even let Robin touch the radio! What are the three rules of riding in the Bimmer?” Dustin calls out.

“Wipe your feet. No snacks or food. And most importantly, don’t touch the radio,” the other boys in the back chorus together. 

Eddie turns and looks at Steve, smile getting impossibly wider. “Is that so?” 

He could deny it. He could lie and say they’re just being shitheads about it. It’d be really easy. “Yeah. Yeah it is true. But you know,” Steve stops, reaching over and grabbing Eddie’s hand to press a kiss to the back of it. His heart is pounding, but it’s worth it for the stars he sees in Eddie’s eyes. “You’re the exception to the rule.”

The backseat erupts in a whole different bout of noise, but Steve tunes it out. He’s too busy enjoying the way he and Eddie’s fingers are laced together over the console, the mixtape Eddie made for him playing in the background. 

“Does this mean you’ll let us eat in the car now?” Mike tries, sounding put out. 

Steve shakes his head. “Absolutely fucking not.” Though, he looks over at Eddie, who is still grinning like the cat who got the canary. “Except you. Boyfriend privileges and all that.”

It’s worth the noise coming from the back.

[artist-issues]

just convinced my parents to come see Twisters with me (my dad loved the soundtrack) and more Nice Things:

The shot after the tragedy, first shot of Kate since the time skip, and it's a pan from her hand gripping the subway bar. What better way to communicate in a single instant, "it's been five year's but she's still in that moment, hanging on for dear life"

Storm Par's vehicles are all named after the Cast of the Wizard of Oz, but Kate and Javi's vehicle is called "Lion," because she needs courage, hello, but so does Javi. (I think the bad guy's driving Tin Man, who "needs a heart," but I can't confirm.)

When Kate agrees to try her experiment out and Tyler offers to help, she's like, "we're going to drop them right in front, we don't need to go all the way in, that's dangerous" and he's like "that's why we have to go all the way in!" And the whole time he's driving them in and she's panicking he's talking over her panic, describing all the true things about what they're doing: "extra weight on the chassis, augurs ready, etc." because that's what you do when you're trying not to act in fear—you focus on the things that are true instead of on the scary things that might happen. And because he pushes her through that she gets to see something she, the weather-lover, never got to see before—the center of the storm! And come out on the other side okay! That's wonderful! He literally gets her past the moment she'd never been past, in storm chasing.

The part where Kate is trying to get Tyler out from under the debris but she can't and then Javi comes in and uses leverage to get him out—exactly the same thing Jeb did to turn their trailer over before the Tragedynado hit the first time. Except this time, instead of beat-for-beat repeating the tragedy after the leverage-stunt, Kate drives toward the tornado. How great is that??

Javi says "you have a gift, we have to use it to help the people we love" and Tyler says, "figured college would be a better use of my brain [instead of getting stepped on by cows]" but there's this lovely combination of "use what you've got for others, and enjoy that."

Kate lets go of the steering wheel and lets the tornado toss her around only after she gets the barrels to release, and finishes what she started.

Tyler takes her bags out of the airport for her in the last shot. That's all. That's it.

[pedroschka]

Bat Signal

Eddie Munson x reader

A/n I did NOT write this! all credits go to my dear friend (sweetest little bean) who wrote this for me but wants to stay anonymous. I asked if I could post it because it's just too sweet not to share it

🦇

The plush bat feels soft in Eddie's hands as he turns it over, studying the fuzzy fabric. Its beady eyes stare back at him, little felt fangs peeking out from the stitched mouth. He smooths down the grey fur, fingers lingering on the velvety ears. It's cute, in an ugly sort of way. Just like him.

Sounds of Metallica blast from the stereo speakers behind him, the noise a familiar comfort in the cluttered trailer he reluctantly calls home these days. A half-eaten slice of pizza sits forgotten on the table, grease staining the cardboard box a darker shade of brown. He'd tried to tidy up earlier, shoving dirty laundry and empty beer cans out of sight, but the lingering scent of cigarette smoke and weed remains, clinging to the stained couch cushions.

Eddie sets the bat down, reaching for the fresh pack of cigs in his frayed denim vest pocket. Mentally rehearses what he's going to say when he sees you.

"Hey, I saw this and thought of you," he mumbles around the cigarette, free hand tucking a stray piece of long brown hair behind his ear. "Figured you might like it, since you're into all that goth shit, you know?" He drops his voice, trying to sound cooler, more casual. "I mean, if you want it."

Fuck, that sounds stupid. Eddie sighs, smoke curling from his nostrils. He stubs the cigarette out in the ashtray on the end table, pushing to his feet. His reflection in the cracked mirror by the door stares back at him, all pale skin and dark circles beneath bloodshot eyes. The denim vest hangs off his thin frame, metal band patches and spikes doing little to hide the prominent collarbones beneath his faded Dio t-shirt.

"You look like shit, Munson," he tells himself, lips twisting wryly.

Still, he's got no choice. He's already late and he doesn't want to risk you giving up on him showing. Grabbing the plush bat, he heads out to the van, Corroded Coffin spray-painted in dripping white letters on the side. It takes three tries before the engine sputters to life.

🦇

You’re leaning against the brick wall outside the record store when he pulls up, combat boots tapping restlessly against the sidewalk. Your ripped fishnet stockings gleam beneath the streetlights, eyes finding his as he shifts the van into park.

"Starting to think you weren't gonna show," you say when he approaches. You don't sound mad though, just resigned. Like you expected him to let you down.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Eddie says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I, uh, got held up with something."

You hum noncommittally, gaze dropping to the stuffed animal in his other hand. One pierced eyebrow arches. "What's with the bat? Planning on doing some late night birdwatching?"

Eddie blinks, glancing down like he'd forgotten he was holding it. "What? No, this..." He clears his throat, thrusting it towards you. "This is for you, actually."

Your kohl-rimmed eyes widen fractionally as you take it from him, chipped black nails sinking into the plush fur. You hold it up, examining it in the dim light. A slow smile spreads across your face and Eddie's heart skips a beat in his chest.

"For me, huh?" you murmur, looking up at him from beneath heavy lashes. "Any particular reason?"

Eddie shrugs one shoulder, feigning nonchalance even as his palms grow clammy. "Thought you might like it. Y'know, 'cause it's all spooky and shit. Like you."

You smirk, cradling the bat against your chest possessively. "You saying I'm spooky, Munson?"

"No! I mean, yeah, but like...in a good way," Eddie stammers, feeling his face flush. He scuffs the toe of his scuffed boot against the sidewalk. "Spooky's cool."

You laugh, the sound throaty and warm. It makes something flutter in Eddie's chest, chasing away the cold emptiness that's taken root there. "Well, I guess that makes two of us then."

You tuck the bat under one arm, jerking your head towards the record store behind you. "C'mon, let's go dig through the stacks. I'm in dire need of some new tunes."

"Lead the way," Eddie says, falling into step beside you as you head inside. His shoulder brushes against yours and he feels lighter than he has in weeks, the plush bat a comforting presence between the two of you.

Maybe, just maybe, he's finally found someone who gets it. Someone who looks at him and sees more than just a freak, a burnout, a waste of space.

Someone who makes him feel alive again, like he matters.

Like he's not alone anymore.

🦇

He lets you drag him through the aisles, watching as you flip through the rows of vinyl with deft fingers. You keep the bat tucked in the crook of your elbow the entire time, its beady eyes peering out at the world.

"This little dude's gonna be my new mascot," you declare, holding up a battered copy of Black Sabbath's self-titled album. "He can perch on my bedpost, keep watch over my room."

"Yeah?" Eddie grins, something warm unfurling in his chest at the thought of his gift watching over you. "Guess that means you gotta give him a totally epic name then."

You purse your lips, considering. "Hmm. How about...Ozzy?"

Eddie snorts. "Ozzy the bat? Seriously?"

"What? It's perfect!" You hold the plush up next to the album cover, as if comparing the two. "Look, they've even got the same spaced out expression."

Eddie shakes his head, still grinning. "Whatever you say, weirdo."

"You love it," you counter, bumping your hip against his.

He looks at you, taking in the smudged eyeliner and chipped polish, the ratty Misfits shirt and torn jeans. You are a beautiful mess, just like him.

"Yeah," he murmurs, throat suddenly tight. "I really fucking do."

🦇

[steddieas-shegoes]

i'm a freak that is searching for redemption

for @subeddieweek day seven with the prompts subdrop and daddy kink and praise kink

rated e | 2,239 words | please check ao3 for tags

Day one:  ao3 | tumblr Day two: ao3 | tumblr Day three: ao3 | tumblr Day four: ao3 | tumblr Day five: ao3 | tumblr   Day six: ao3 | tumblr

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

Steve dropped Eddie off at the trailer, only coming inside to make sure he got into a warm shower and had a snack.

“I’ll be back first thing in the morning to bring you to school, okay?” Steve kissed his forehead as he gently guided him into the steamy shower. “I’ll leave a note for Wayne so he knows your van broke down.”

Eddie could only nod, still a bit out of it from their fun in the car.

He still felt unmoored, even with music playing softly in his room and a candle lit that smelled like the cologne Steve wore.

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but when he woke up still wrapped in his towel, pillow soaked from his hair being wet, all he could think was how much he wished he hadn’t woken up yet.

Wayne used to call him his Melancholy Mule when he first came to live with him and spent mornings pouting in bed. He had no good reason, other than most of the shit that life had handed him, and Wayne was just trying to make light of a shitty situation. But he couldn’t help but wonder if he was having one of those days again.

He hadn’t in a while, not since Steve, maybe not since he’d failed high school the first time.

But his body felt heavy, his eyes drooping closed despite the nagging feeling that he needed to get up and get ready. His thoughts were all over the place, but nothing was connecting.

Steve.

He needed Steve.

A shiver went down his spine as he realized he was still alone.

Steve hadn’t come back for him. He’d left him here.

“Ed?” Wayne knocked on his bedroom door, opening it a crack and letting in some light from the hallway. “Steve’s here. You want me to let him in?”

Steve’s here? He didn’t leave?

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice was rough, rougher than it usually was in the morning.

There was a voice behind Wayne, and then the door opened more. Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut at the light entering his dark room, his body curling into itself.

“Eds? You okay?” Steve’s voice was right next to him, and when Eddie managed to open his eyes, he was kneeling next to Eddie’s bed. His hand covered Eddie’s cheek, thumb rubbing soothing patterns under his eye.

Eddie let out a small whimper and closed his eyes again.

He couldn’t understand what was wrong, had no idea why he didn’t even cheer up at the sight of Steve, but he knew he couldn’t possibly get out of this bed right now.

“Shit. Sweet boy, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you last night, not until you fell asleep at least. Did you sleep last night?” Steve was suddenly pushing him over on his bed, sliding into the spot Eddie had previously taken and wrapping him up in his arms.

Steve was warm.

His hands felt big against Eddie’s back, strong, like they could pull him from whatever depth he was drowning in right now.

“Eddie, baby, look at me.” Steve’s voice sounded worried. Eddie didn’t want that. He managed to open both of his eyes and look up at Steve. “That’s it. Love when you’re so good for me. Did you sleep last night?”

“Mhm. Can I sleep now?” Eddie was so tired. His whole body felt like it was being dragged through the mattress, right through the floor. His chest was heavy, almost like the last time he had a chest cold, but without the coughing.

“Can you tell me what you’re feeling first? Just so I can make sure I know how to help.”

Steve still sounded worried and Eddie didn’t want him to. He was fine, just tired. And maybe a little bit sad. He didn’t know why he was sad, but it would pass.

“Just wanna sleep. Can I skip school?” Eddie mumbled against Steve’s chest, listening to his heart beat as it lulled him into a comforting silence.

“Sure, baby. Wayne’s gonna go look at your van.”

“Mmkay.”

A voice in the back of Eddie’s head was telling him to try to stay awake and talk to Steve more, but he couldn’t quite keep his eyes open or form any more words.

***

“Thanks, Wayne.”

Steve’s soft voice filtered through Eddie’s dreams, causing his eyes to flutter until he was blinking open to sunlight coming in through his window. He always kept his curtains closed so someone must’ve opened them.

He was mad at that someone.

He groaned and turned his head further into Steve’s chest, his fingers curling into his shirt.

He smelled so good all the time. How did he always smell like he just got out of the shower?

“Hey, sweet boy. Feeling a little better after your nap?” Steve asked, one hand playing with his curls while the other played with the hem of his shirt.

“Yeah. Sorry I was out of it earlier. Must not have slept good,” Eddie started to pull away, but Steve’s arm tightened, pulling him close against him again.

“My fault,” Steve muttered under his breath. “Have you ever dropped like that before?”

“Dropped?” Eddie asked, finally pulling away to look up at Steve.

“I think you dropped after last night. It was my fault. I knew you were still a little floaty when I put you in the shower and then I left without checking in again. I’m so sorry, baby. You were so overwhelmed with everything that happened with the van and then what we did in the car, I should’ve stayed or taken you to my place,” Steve was running his hands up his sides. “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?”

Oh.

That’s what that feeling was.

He’d thought Steve left because he hadn’t done good. He hadn’t even realized until now that’s what the disappointment was in the shower and when he crawled into bed and when he woke up this morning.

“I didn’t?”

“No, sweet boy. You were perfect for me, you’re always perfect for me. Letting me have you whenever and wherever I want? God, you’re so amazing.” Steve kissed his forehead. “Do you need anything from me? Anything.”

“I…don’t know,” Eddie was feeling quite a bit better, still a little bit off, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Steve was clearly beating himself up over what happened, and his words were melting what was left of the ice in Eddie’s stomach. “Can you hold me for a while?”

“Of course, baby. All day if you want. Wayne took the van to the shop and they’re gonna take care of it. He’s gone to grab dinner and go to work.”

“What time is it?” Eddie couldn’t have possibly been out all day.

“Nearly five. You were tired, love.”

“But-”

“It’s okay,” Steve hushed him with a kiss to his lips. “You’re good.”

“Does Wayne…know?”

“He just thinks you’re having a bad day. Didn’t think you’d want me to tell him the details of our sex life,” Steve smirked. “I didn’t really want him to kill me either.”

“He knows you take care of me.”

“I didn’t last night.”

That tone was not one that Eddie wanted. That tone was beyond apologetic, bordering on self-hatred.

“You did. You made sure I took a shower. You had music playing so I wouldn’t feel so alone. A candle that smelled like you. You did what you thought was gonna work. It probably would have any other time.” Eddie kissed his chest, then his jaw. “You were good to me. You’re always good to me.”

Steve smiled at him before he kissed his lips, soft, but lingering.

“How long are you staying?” Eddie asked him.

“As long as you want me.”

“So…forever?” Eddie poked his cheek.

“Forever sounds good to me. You wanna get up and have something to eat?”

“Yeah.”

Steve helped him up and gave him a piggyback ride to the kitchen, smiling as Eddie giggled against his neck. He set him on the counter and started cooking some spaghetti, wanting something quick and easy, but still filling to make up for all of the meals Eddie had missed today.

He did everything but feed him by hand, which…hm, maybe they could do that sometime. Eddie liked when Steve got in the mood to take care of him like this, so it was worth a shot.

“Good?” Steve asked after they both had a bowl and a half.

“Good. Thanks for taking care of me,” Eddie nuzzled his neck, noticing that they hadn’t stopped touching the entire time.

“You know I love to,” Steve kissed his temple. “Bed?”

“Depends.”

“On if we’re gonna be naked.”

Steve snorted. “You sure you feel up for that?”

“I am dying to have you inside me again.” Eddie half-joked before looking at Steve seriously. “I feel empty without you inside me.”

“Eds, baby,” Steve leaned in to kiss him, hard and fast. “I would live inside you if I could.”

“You can live there part time. Like, right now. I won’t even charge rent or anything.”

They both laughed as Steve lifted him up in his arms and carried him towards his bedroom, smiling up at him and barely paying attention to where he was going. He knew the way like the back of his hand anyway.

It was more rushed than usual, but they weren’t playing right now. At least not yet.

Eddie could tell Steve needed this, needed to just have Eddie against him, touch him until he was writhing with pleasure. Eddie needed it too.

Having Steve kissing his tattoos, his moles on his chest, the scar on his thigh from when he cut himself trying to make his own sword as a kid, was like finally feeling sunshine after a rainstorm. He could feel himself shivering, but it wasn’t from the cold.

“You okay, baby?” Steve whispered against his skin, breath making goosebumps appear against him.

“So good, daddy.”

Steve paused, pulling away from him.

Eddie whined.

“Eddie, baby, look at me.” Steve’s tone was different now, not nearly as soft or calm. Eddie looked at him, of course. Whatever it was had to be serious. “Love, do you know what you just said?”

He wasn’t floating or anything, hadn’t really gone numb or thoughtless like he did when they played. They were just making out, getting a bit heated, but nothing like they had the night before.

“Um, no? I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You called me daddy.”

Eddie sat up.

“I didn’t mean to. I-”

“Eds, baby, breathe.” Steve’s hands were solid against his shoulders, holding him down, keeping him tethered to their bubble of safety. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”

“But it’s weird, right? It’s different than what we do. And we didn’t ever talk about that and you shouldn’t have to-”

Steve’s lips against his shut him up quickly, but his mind still raced with apologies and excuses, things he could say to make sure Steve wouldn’t run from him.

“Sweet boy, nothing we do and nothing you could ever say is going to be weird to me. It just startled me a little.” Steve kissed the tip of his nose while his hands rubbed gentle circles into his upper arms. “You never mentioned that’s something you were into before.”

“I didn’t think it was something I was into,” Eddie admitted, cheeks red. “I’ve never been into it before.”

“Not even in porn?”

Eddie shook his head. “I didn’t really get it.”

“Do you wanna talk about why you said it?” Steve was always so careful and kind, patient when Eddie felt ready to explode.

“I just felt cared for.”

“More than usual?”

“I guess,” Eddie shrugged. “I wasn’t even floating or anything. I just knew you’d make sure I was okay and that you’ve been making sure I was okay all day.”

“Yeah. I’ll always take care of you, baby, you know that.” Steve pecked his lips. “Do you think you wanna call me that sometimes?”

Eddie didn’t really know. He certainly hadn’t put any thought into it before now, and he didn’t think Steve had either. And with how he was still coming off of his drop, and how stressed Steve had been this morning, maybe now wasn’t the time to dissect it.

“Maybe.” Eddie leaned his head forward, resting it against Steve’s broad chest. Steve’s arms wrapped around him, centering him. “Think I need to sleep on it.”

“Mkay, baby. Whenever you’re ready,” Steve kissed the top of his head. “You wanna keep going or just cuddle?”

Eddie knew it would feel good to keep going, but he could feel the exhaustion deep in his bones and muscles, and he knew that Steve was probably just as tired. Anything they did now would be born out of necessity, not because they wanted to work each other over.

“Cuddle.”

“You’re so good for me, baby.”

He let the words wash over him as Steve pulled him against his chest. They settled together, Steve’s fingers tracing patterns along Eddie’s back and sides until all he could focus on was being surrounded by Steve’s love.

“Love you so much, sweet boy,” Steve whispered as Eddie slowly drifted to sleep.

The next time he woke up, he’d smile and curl further into Steve’s side and he’d start his day feeling good.

He’d always feel good with Steve by his side.

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Drew and Chase's ex part 2. Drew feeling a 'little' pissed that he wasn't included in the flash forward (let's say he filmed something for it) and seeing everyone speculate that he won't be in season 4. And then out of spite that none of the cast have neither confirmed or denied the rumour in interviews he decides to fuck yn in one of their trailers while filming season 4 and that is how they all find out 😂

And since they wanna be chill with Chase I would say either Jonathan's or Austin's because they're good friends.

Leftovers p2

(Gif credit to owner)

Pairings- readerxdrew starkey

Summary- follow in from part 2, read above.

Warnings- unprotected angry kind of public sex, hair pulling, choking, fingering, hand job, language. (18+)

A/n- hey anon, I changed it up a little. Just found it easier to write it prior to season 4 filming. I hope you don’t mind! Let me know what you think 🥰 also this is unedited atm but needed to post as my drafts are being so weird and I can’t open word doc.

Part 1

"Okay, but if I’m in season 4. Why is no one saying yes in the interviews?” Drew argues, he’s pacing the living room floor.

The vein in his arm is protruding from the way his fist is tightly balled up. “Why am I being told not to say anything?”.

You knew if you weren’t over, half his furniture would be turned upside down and his knuckles would be bruised. He didn’t know how to calm himself down when you weren’t around, he usually bottled things up until they tip him over the edge.

“Whatever”.

You watched as he hung up the phone and brought his arm above his head to throw the phone. “Drew” you sing, his eyes meet yours.

All the anger that had been radiating from him vanishes, he drops the phone onto the couch and walks towards you. Taking a seat next to you, he grabs your face and kisses you. “Thanks for being my anchor” he smiles, your heart skips a beat.

“Do you still want to go to this party JD is throwing for end of season 3? We don’t have to, I mean I know how angry you are” you question, you didn’t really want to go.

You both had been seeing each other on the down low since the night you had sex, so exactly 5 months. You had planned on speaking to Chase but with Drew being busy with interviews and you working in the office until late most night, no one’s schedule ever matched.

That was until you got a text from Chase inviting you to the party, neither of you had hard feelings. You had seen photos online of him with other girls and assumed he had moved on, but you just weren’t sure how he would react to the two of you getting together.

“Oh, we are going” he states, he has a look of mischief on his face but he’s standing and exiting the room before you can even question what’s running through his brain.

-

2 nights go by and you’re stepping out of a taxi, dressed in a black and white checked dress that meets your knees. You had a good amount of cleavage on display and the waist was snatched.

You and Drew had decided to come separately, not wanting to draw attention to the two of you if paparazzi where to find out about the party. Lucky it was on the down low, and you go unnoticed.

“Hey!” JD yells, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you through the house. He guides you to a bar and grabs you a glass of wine. “So good to see you Y/N! Chase is here somewhere”.

Just as he finishes his sentence you see him walk through the door, he gives you a bright smile and walks over. “Hey!” He greets you, giving you a soft hug and kissing your cheek.

You had only seen each other once since the split, thankfully the second the hug ended, you knew you no longer had feelings for him. You just hoped he felt the same way, you didn’t want to keep you and drew a secret anymore.

“How are you?” You question, taking a sip of the white wine JD had given you. The sweet taste danced over your taste buds.

Conversations begin to flow between the 3 of you and soon the whole cast is gathered in a circle, catching up and chatting about new projects. You said a few things about your own work, but really you just listened.

You still hadn’t seen Drew, you kept checking your phone to make sure he hadn’t bailed. You knew how angry he was, you tried to keep him calm but the second you left his side it just hit him, and he’d search the interviews online.

What seemed like an eternity later; he strode on in. Dressed all in black and frames on his face. He waved at everyone, but you could tell he was anxious. He didn’t like not knowing the future.

“Drew!” Everyone cheered, you waited your turn until you could hug him and say hey. You could feel his lips linger on your cheek and his fingers dig into your hips as a way of saying ‘missed you’.

The rest of the night went by in a blur, you saw Drew occasionally, but he was off talking to everyone. You could see him talking to the show runner and the conversation must have started to get heated as Drew’s fingers kept running over his scalp and his jaw was tense.

You didn’t want to interrupt so made your way to a bathroom, you would do your business and then go back out and see if you could grab his attention without having to go over and interrupt the conversation.

A couple of minutes went by, and you opened the door to leave the bathroom, but Drew stood at the entrance. His hands grip your shoulders and push you softly back inside, closing the door behind him.

He grips your jaw and presses his lips to yours, needy hands touching all over your body. Pushing you up against the cabinets, he helps you onto the countertop. Pushing himself between your parted legs.

You wrap your arms around his neck, his hands caressing your hips. Pulling you close to him as he lets his tongue explore the inside of your mouth.

The music outside is drowned out by your heartbeat rattling in your ears, your skin was on fire from his touch. You could feel his erection against your clothed pussy, you needed him right there and then.

“Can I touch you?” He breathes, you nod your head. Taking a moment to catch your breath, he reaches between the two of you. Pulling your panties to the side, he pushes you back slightly.

Angling you to lay back against the mirror, nodding for you to bring your feet up onto the countertop, when he’s finally happy with the way your sat. He runs his fingertips between your soaking folds.

An almost pornographic moan leaves your lips, he chuckles into your hair. You can’t see his face, but you know he’s smirking at how easy it is for him to get you wet. He pushes two fingers inside of you, your mouth gaping open.

“Dre-w, should we be doing this?” You breathed, your walls fluttering around his fingers. You could feel your self-growing wetter, the movements of his fingers becoming fast and sloppy. You don’t doubt that you have covered his hands with your juices. “Hell, yeah we should baby”.

You don’t argue with him, you’re riding your high in JD’s bathroom. Zoned out to the world, grinding your hips into his hand as he brings you over the edge. Your orgasm washing over you with a sense of release, your moans are hidden by his mouth on yours.

You’re reaching into his pants to grab his cock, pulling it out of its confinements. You use your arousal to pump your hand up and down his shaft as he sucks and bites down your throat.

One of his hands fisting the back of your head and pulling you head to the side to give him better access. “Fuck”.

“Feels so good”

“Yeah?”

“So good, I need to be inside of you”

He’s rushing to undo his zip and doesn’t give you time to move position, he’s pushing inside of you with ease. You let out a yelp when he grips your hips and pushes you down onto him harshly. “Fuck, harder Drew”.

“How hard?”

He was still cautious with how he treated you in the bedroom, not wanting to upset you. You had told him a million times he could carve his name on your skin, and you’d still suck his dick. “Make me scream baby”.

He pulls out of you, repositioning you to lean over the countertop. He gives your ass a slap and pushes inside of you again. Bunching your dress up to your hips so he can get a good view of his cock drenched in your juices.

“Oh shit, please Drew harder” you beg, you grip onto the counter. He grips your hair and pulls you back against him, moving his hips inside of you as he reaches around to kiss you.

His hands caress your body, groping your tits. Reaching down to massage your clit, his other hand grips your throat tightly. His eyes are watching the way your own roll to the back of your head, he’s so close to coming just from the way you looked euphoric right now.

“Your so fucking perfect”

“Your mine”

“We are telling Chase”

“I need everyone to know your fucking mine”

You’re coming hard around him, screaming his name out. He places his hand over your mouth to muffle it out slightly, he holds you firmly against him as you shake around him. Your walls pulsating around his cock, milking him until he’s completely dry.

The anger that had once been raging inside of him had gone, he was satisfied and happy. The feeling of you in his arms had him humming with delight.

“Did you mean that last part?” You questioned; he nodded his head. Looking at you through the mirror. You have him a soft smile and turned your head to give him a kiss.

“No way”

You both jump at the voice behind you as Austin stood at the door, his eyes wide as he takes in the scene in front of him. He steps out without saying another word and closes the door behind him.

“I mean, at least it wasn’t chase?” Drew laughs, he slips out of you and helps you clean up. You’re both trying to work yourselves up to get out of the bathroom and to speaking to Chase, it had to happen now. If Austin knew, it was only right Chase did.

“So why did we just have sex in JD’s bathroom?”

“Just me being pissed off with what’s going on with season 4, kind of wanted to just let some steam off. I mean, I’m pissed no one has just said yeah, he’s in the next season.”

“I’m just being salty”

You nod your head in understanding, you would be pissed to if your cast mates pretended like you weren’t going to be in the next season.

“Guys, Chase is coming” Austin barged through the door and pushed you away from one another. He leans against the counter and nods when Chase came up to the door. “Sup man”.

Chase looked between the 3 of you and quirked his brow, peering over your shoulder at the bathroom counter. “Not doing drugs, right?” He laughed nervously.

You all laughed, it was awkward, and your heart felt like it was in your throat. You were nervous and it made it even worse that Austin was in the room, but as though he could read your mind, he pointed his finger to the door and exited.

“What’s going on guys?” Chase questions, he noticed the both of you being awkward. He could tell someone wanted to say something because you both were still in the bathroom waiting. “Chase, man I need to tell you something”.

Chase nods his head and looks at you, you know he wants to ask if you need to be in the room but when he looks back at Drew, he turns to look at you again.

“So those pictures online?” Chase states, no doubt talking about the pictures that those teenage girls had posted online 5 months ago. “Are you seeing each other?”.

Drew looks over at you, making sure you’re okay with him answering. “Yeah” you whisper, you know you shouldn’t be nervous. Your both adults, these feelings honestly can’t be helped, and Chase would know that.

He had to deal with his old feelings with Maddi when you started dating, he was still getting over her and you were fine with that. You gave him his time and he came around in the end.

“Oh shit” Chase breaths, he runs a hand through his hair. He chuckles to himself; Drew can tell your even more anxious now.

His eyes fall to you as you sway on the spot, picking at the skin around your nails. “I’m sorry man, I’ve been meaning to talk to you”. Drew states, he puts his hand on Chase’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry Chase, we did mean to talk to you” you start, your about to add that you didn’t want him to be upset and that you both weren’t walking around hoping to be photographed together but he stops you.

“Hey, hey. It’s totally fine” he says, there was a slight hesitation when he says fine, but his caramel eyes meet yours. “I promise, I mean sure it’s a shock, but we ended things months ago” Chase finished, he gives you a soft smile.

“I’m happy for you both”

He pulls Drew in for hug and gives him a rough pat on the back, you can feel slight tension from them both. Unsure how to react to each other, Chase was understanding. Yes, he felt a little strange that his ex was now dating Drew who had become a close friend of his since season 1.

But if Y/N could deal with Chase having had feelings for Maddi then the least he could do is deal with the two of them becoming a couple. So, he pulled you into a soft hug and before you could pull away. He brought his lips to your ears.

“He will be good for you”

“Thanks Chase”.

-

[i-trash-about-things]

Eddie's shitty sense of humor strikes again.

A random blurb that came to me after reading some headcannons about Eddie's childish sense of humor

777 words (nice). Suggestive but nothing happens. Reader has hair long enough to tug. GN!Reader and Ed are best friends. Swear word count: 4. English is not my first language! Sorry if something doesn't make sense and feel free to correct me! (Repost because Tumblr flunked the last time I tried posting this)

If you wanna be Eddie Munson’s friend, you’ve gotta learn a few rules. Handle his guitar with care, or else he’ll bash it in the side of your head. If W.A.S.P. is on, you do not skip a single song.

You know all of these, better than anyone with you being his best friend. His partner in crime, the one that always gets him out of trouble– or gets into trouble with him.

But there’s one rule you know better than all of the rest.

Eddie is nothing if not a damn clown.

Loud, potentially annoying, and will crack a joke like he can’t hold it back. Be it an awkward one liner at a funeral, a sarcastic remark in the middle of class or a genuine good joke in the middle of a campaign– His mouth is moving faster than his brain, and all that leaves his lips is absolute tomfoolery.

You know it, your friends know it, all of Hawkins knows it.

And an example of this behavior is that fact he can’t see any one of his friends bending down to fetch whatever fell without pretending to hump against their ass, groaning and moaning so exaggerated you never know if you wanna laugh or cringe.

Shameless.

It is kinda funny when Gareth gets all pissy afterwards, tho.

But, even though you and Eds have been friends for the good part of 4 years now– he never did this to you. Not because he didn’t want to or because it’d be weird, but because he just never had the chance.

You, differently from most people, doesn’t tend to bend down to reach something. You just crouch. Or kneel, when the moment calls for it.

It’s just something you’ve been doing since forever, so you’re more used to it. Mindless, instinct, really.

But the past few weeks, you think Eddie’s been trying to get you to bend down– like he wants to get a completion prize for humping everyone in the Hellfire Club (with the exception of the sheepies, duh). He drops his pick mid practice, asks for you to grab a figurine stacked on the box near the foot of his bed– anything, just to get you to bend over.

So far? No such luck.

But Eddie isn’t anything if not committed to the bit. So, one day, the opportunity shows itself for him and he takes it.

It wasn’t even on purpose, really. He was just getting ready to go out, both of you gathering your coats by the front door of his trailer so you wouldn’t freeze your butts off–

“Oh, hey– wait.” Your hand leaves the sleeve of your hoodie, instead reaching for him to stop moving. Your face is down, eyes on the floor, and he raises an eyebrow. “I think there’s something stuck to your shoe. Hol’ up.”

And before he has the chance to freak out in worry if it’s a spider– you’re kneeling between his feet, tugging on whatever it is stuck to his sneakers.

And, like a match dropped into gasoline, he sees his chance and goes for it.

You don’t have the chance to raise your face before you feel familiar fingers tangling into the front of your hairline, tugging your head up roughly– and Eddie let’s out an exaggerated, throaty groan, half-heartedly moving his hips that are eye level to you.

“Mmph! Oh, fuck yeah, sweetheart, just like that!” He cackles, biting his lip and tilting his head back for that extra effect… But pauses when he doesn’t hear you laughing or groaning in annoyance at his shenanigans.

So he looks back down… And something about the smirk on your face makes his heart skip a beat.

Despite the crude and sexual joke, you don’t look embarrassed in the slightest– much less uncomfortable, which was Eddie’s original fear. No… No, you look amused.

Smug.

There’s something about the way your eyes are halflided, full of mirth as you look up at him from your spot by the floor. The shit eating tilt to your smirk has a shiver running down his spine, and his grip on your hair instinctively loosens. Amused, confident even– even while literally kneeling by his feet.

Jesus H. Christ.

“You’re a dumb ass, Munson, you know that?” You say, the slight tilt to your words hinting at an affectionate tone that has him swallowing the dryness on the back of his throat. He almost doesn’t hear you over the sound of the blood rushing from his head down south.

“I live to entertain.” He hears himself say, and for once he thanks the fact his mouth moves faster than his brain.

[itsmattchou]

cause you make it better !

pairing: zb1 maknae line x gn!reader warnings: yujin + reader are in highschool, yujin and gunwooks sections are a little longer for some odd reason, cursing, english isn't my first language!!!, i guess that was it genre: fluff synopsis: reverse icks with the zb1 boys. notes: WEEKLY UPLOADS YEAHH🔥🔥 the crowd goes wild fr. part 1 is cute but hyung line version🤭🤭 feeding y'alls deluluness fr STAY TUNED

shen quanrui the two of you are on a date in the city. eating ice cream, doing some shopping- ricky insisted on spoiling you- and then just wandering through the streets talking about whatever comes to mind. while walking ricky noticed that your shoelaces became untied, he told you to stop for a second and kneeled down to tie them for you. that alone let your breath hitch, but when he looked up and had THAT look on his face? your heartbeat skipped several beats.

him tying your shoelaces and looking up at you.

kim gyuvin silly boyfriend here. he wanted to take you out on a fancy dinner date and really wanted you two to dress up fancy as if you were going to a fucking wedding or something. you were getting ready in the bathroom as gyuvin called out for you, his voice desperate. you found him in your bedroom, a tie in his hand and a big pout on his lips. "i may or may not need you to help me with the tie, y/n..." you really couldn't contain a smile at that sight.

him not being able to tie his tie alone and you helping him.

park gunwook gunwook took you to the cinema to watch a movie you wanted to watch since the first trailer dropped. he insisted on driving you back home after the movie ended and as a thank you for the wonderful date, you gave him a little suprise hug. mind you- you haven't been dating for that long (2 months) and weren't big on pda yet and you weren't sure if gunwook would mind or not. but by the way his heartbeat sped up the second your arms wrapped around his torso and your head hit his chest, or by the way his face was flushed bright red when you pulled away, he probably didn't mind it that much.

you hugging him and hearing his heartbeat speed up.

han yujin he may be your boyfriend, but first and foremost he's still your best friend. his company makes everything better; even the most dreadful and boring math class becomes bearable thanks to him. it was the last period of the day and yujin has claimed your non dominant hand while you were busy taking your (and yujins…) notes. a weird feeling on your hand however made you stop in your tracks; yujin was doodling a bunch of hearts onto your skin. he shot you his cute, innocent signature smile once he realized you were watching him.

him drawing onto the back of your hand.

[zombiepuke]

let you go.

heyyyyyy-yooooo this is my first like, full fic for Ellie from Evil Dead Rise, i was IMMEDIATELY attached to her first time i saw the trailer. now here we are. this is kinda bloody kinda fucked up but you're fucking a Deadite so. probably gonna have to be fucked up.

ellie/reader, 18+ wlw oneshot :) not really mo/mmy kink but the word is used once.

word count: 4,028

It always seemed to be raining in this city. Everytime you shut your car door, turned the ignition, there it went - the iron smell of rain filling your nose as you cursed the heavy drops splashing against the asphalt, your brakes squealing lightly as you pulled out of your parking garage and sped off to your destination.

It was as if the weather itself was preparing you for the doom and gloom of the abandoned high-rise on the corner of the darkest, least-traveled street, the apartment building no one ever dared to venture into, the one everyone whispered about I heard there’s ghosts I even heard serial killers like to dump bodies there yeah well I heard it was a satanic ritual site dead cats and bloody chickens–

No one dared venture there but you.

Not that those folks had a bad reason to steer clear of that dark, dank place, but you were always attracted to the absence of light, and when the city had deemed the building condemned, and ordered it to be torn down to make room for some luxury high-end bullshit, you panicked, called every town representative, even booked appointments with the mayor. All of your begging and pleading for them to leave the building be - it’s a part of our history, you can’t just destroy it! - seemed to work, as within the month of the first destruction order, the higher-ups in town had laid off of it and decided to not go through with it. You weren’t sure if it were your doing that kept the building upright but you certainly liked to think so. That’s what you told her, anyways.

Of course, it was for her. Everything you did lately was for her.

Blood ran cold through your veins as you locked your car up, and made your way to the shabby elevator on the ground floor. The clacking of your shoes against the concrete the only noise in the damp car lot, reverberating off of the few old, broken down vehicles no one cared - or dared - to come collect. They had been there since you could remember, the time passing you by and you genuinely couldn’t remember, how long had you been coming here, for her?

Her smell, spicy and sweet and tart all in one - like rotten candy sweltering on a hot day, cotton candy full of maggots and lollipops sticky with iron and cloves and sweat - swept you off your feet (your heart skipped a beat but she couldn’t know she made you nervous, but the type of nervous like you were asking out your crush for the first time, every time you interacted with her), the nearly broken elevator clanging and slamming shut as you gingerly stepped in, the only reason it still worked is because she had made it so, allowed it to work only for you (she secretly just wanted you to arrive to her quicker, and she knew how your feet ached after your shifts at work, so she let the elevator run - but she would never let you know that she actually cared about your sore feet).

You could smell her from down the hall, ten doors down from the apartment she was most fond of. She could smell you as soon as your car turned the corner onto the street.

The pipes and exposed brick were shrouded in dark shadowy lighting, the rain outside making it nearly impossible to see clearly into the hallway, but you didn’t need the light - you knew exactly where you were going, your feet already shuffling towards the door, her door, as if your brain no longer was employed by you, but by her reign. A stab of delight and dull energy flooded your gut as you stood in front of the apartment, the hallway carpet damp and stinking of iron. You didn’t even have to knock.

—---

“Thhhh-ere you are, little one, I missed you so,” the crackle of her voice, deep and airy, womanly and demonic all at once, echoing across the apartment and into the nooks and crannies of your mind. She was everywhere, all at once, covering the floor, the ceiling, the bed, your own body - Ellie had you pinned beneath her, one arm held across your throat, and you could just make out the fine line ink she had tattooed over her wrist, so telling of the woman she once was, long gone by now. The thought of what she truly was, demonic, evil, made you shiver lightly, an excitement only Ellie could bring unraveling in your gut.

Dark hands, bony and long, the hands most were afraid of grabbing their little feet from beneath their childhood beds, wrapped themselves around you, one moving from your shoulder to trail across your outstretched neck, viscously cold, starting a path downward, icy patches of fingertips crawling over the start of your shirt. Ellie playfully tugged at the material, urging the cloth off of your skin, and you complied immediately - rushing to shrug your tshirt from your upper body (you had gotten onto her about ripping all of your clothing in her desperation to get you undressed) to give yourself to her entirely, her eyes shined evilly at your choice to not wear a bra - you were exposed, body and soul, and she craved everything you had, wanted everything you were.

And you were more than willing to give it all up.

Ellie enjoyed the tease, taking her time to undo you piece by piece, painfully, excruciatingly slow, and put you together again; you were merely a toy for this ghoul to play with and throw around - until you didn’t entertain her anymore and she ripped the head off of her Barbie doll, but you didn’t care to think about that much, or think about the fact that your death would not upset you, but not being with her anymore, would.

The hand upon your torso engulfed one of your breasts, clawed thumb laving across your nipple and your hips jerked upwards at the sudden touch, begging for attention down below already and Ellie’s face morphed into something sinister, thick seeping plasma weeping from her ears and nose dripping down onto your heaving stomach.

“Impatient little bird, aren’t you? You’re dessss-perate for it,” the seething words dripped from her lips like rotten honey, the drawn out syllables going straight to your dampening cunt. Ellie could smell it, and you knew. “What does my little slut want, hm?”

“Please, Ellie... it's been so long,"

“Tell me what you want or I’ll never let you come again, and I mean it, stupid little girl.”

She was always like this, at first - so mean to you, so full of rage and chaotic evil and it burned you alive in desire for her, but also in desperation to please her, to wrench that softness out of her that you knew she had for you. But once she saw how you opened yourself up for her, fell apart in her grasp, took her in for every disgusting, nasty thing she was, and adored her, she eased up with the bite of her words. Ellie could actually be quite tender with you, and only you, and even though the demon probably wouldn’t admit it, she enjoyed pleasing you as much as you did her, the sweetness you brought out in her a gift you always cherished.

“You, I want.. you. Please please, Ellie,” your voice was small, quiet in the dark of the room, your small pants of desperation heard in between each breathed out syllable. You were beginning to squirm below her, needing something, friction, a touch, something. Ellie herself was beginning to feel shaky, the demon’s desires bubbling up like a sick broth of unfiltered lust, gluttony for your attention, your touch, your body.

A bloodshot eye twitched, Ellie’s eyebrow raising in interest and joy in your agony, taunting you and teasing you to continue, sweet thing. You know you always get what you want in the end, anyhow.

“Please touch me, Ellie. Please, I really need you,” the tears in your eyes brought her over the edge, you liked to think - she crashed forward into you, two large, slender hands on either side of your face, her mouth pressed into yours. Kissing her always made your heart leap into your throat in want (never, ever in fear), her mouth always so cold on yours but she was such a decadent kisser, it made up for the freeze tenfold. Dried blood and gore on her mouth from god knows who she had attacked recently dripped down onto the frontside of your bare chest. Her nails pressing dangerously into your cheeks, keeping you in place - kiss after she kiss she planted into your lips and your entire mouth tasted like congealed blood and decaying flesh and her thin but powerful figure was flush to yours, tight under her body and stuck there until she wanted you to not be, and you could have genuinely cried thick, happy tears because it felt so good to touch her, to be touched by her.

What a monster she was but how beautiful, oh how beautiful.

You were so caught up in her face against yours you did not fully register the woman’s hips moving gingerly against your own, chasing her own sensations, or her shoulders flexing as a gray hand slipped lower, lower, until her fingertips were resting at the waistband of your shorts, her thumb drawing tiny circles on your hipbone. Your entire lower body swayed upwards, pleading, you could feel her laugh from inside your own head, your mouth, vibrations of her sick voice shaking your entire being and you were on the verge of tears you were so desperate for something, anything, as long as it were her giving it to you.

When Ellie pulled back from you, it felt like your world was crashing apart, drifting out to sea lost forever but she was this siren, this filthy creature ushering you back to your reality, to yourself and back to the bedroom in this abandoned apartment at the edge of town - in this room, half-naked with this monster, and you had never felt so electrified before in your life. Upon meeting Ellie your world hadn’t just been turned upside down but it had been burned to the ground, demolished, entirely rebuilt and replaced around her. She had very quickly driven out anything in your life that didn’t pertain to her. Your biggest fear, now, was not death, or regrets, or other people - it was now losing Ellie, or her losing her fondness for you, how she protected you, how she touched you, how her inhuman eyes shone when she gazed upon you, how sweetly she would whisper to you as you came for her for the fourth time. Ellie was your only world now.

The woman sat up, back on her haunches just to look you over, panting, sweating and drooling for her; she could be extra mean tonight and leave you there alone, not touch you at all, let you buck your hips against nothing as she sat and taunted you for hours. But you had been so good for her recently, cogs turned in her diseased brain and she decided to have a bit of mercy, moreso for her own sake than yours - and what was the fun in leaving you alone?- undead fingers teased underneath the edges of your underwear, lightly scraping against your skin and raising gooseflesh all across your arms, legs. One pointer finger ran its bony knuckle up and down the front of your clothed center, excruciatingly slow and not near enough pressure. Ellie giggled cruelly as you whimpered like a kicked puppy, legs attempting to close her in closer to you, and her fingers were so goddamn close to your center you could feel her claws tugging gently at your pubic hair. Wetness pooled in your cunt and you felt like shouting and grabbing her wrists and pushing her fingers into you and grinding your clit against her thumb and—

Ellie shushed you, so calmly, as if you weren’t on the verge of a desperation-induced panic attack, one hand withdrawing to come up and cup your face, her eyes boring into yours and you couldn’t, wouldn’t, look away.

“Is this what you want, sweet girl? You want me to fuck your pretty darling cunt?”

All you could do was nod pitifully - please, please, please - fat tears hot on your flushed cheeks. Sometimes you could forget what she was - pretend she was a normal woman, living in a normal apartment, with a normal life, the way she was before she had succumbed to the finality that was her possession. You could pretend you were her lover, stopping by her place for a visit after work, being with her and watching movies on the couch, laughing at the corny love scenes and playfully throwing popcorn at each other, maybe even order takeout and share a dish with her and her children, cracking open a bottle of wine and letting the night air coming through the cheap windows dictate your movements with her, taking it slow and ending up in between the sheets after the kids had gone to bed, sweet, passionate. Sometimes, you felt a shrapnel of pain for the woman she had been so long ago, you didn’t feel so utterly fucked in the head, but this was not one of those moments. It was the complete opposite.

Ellie was horrifying, bending over you, body taught like a bow, ready to snap and plunge her teeth into your soft neck, gnashing and growling like some sort of feral animal, deep and primal and she truly was an apex predator and you merely some grazing antelope that had been delusional enough to fall in love with its attacker. Her skin was near translucent and blue-gray, black spider veins winding across her joints creating delicate patterns you liked to trace up and down with your fingertips when you were lying down beside her, those rare moments you could actually touch her (Ellie would never let you know how much she enjoyed when she allowed you to press your fingers to her skin, how much it sent chills of her own down her wretched spine).

She caressed your cheek so sweetly with the thumb holding your face, cooing at your attempts to grind against any part of her your hips could reach, teasing, taunting, letting you break down into intrinsic need. Two long digits swooned across your trembling lower lip, prying your mouth open and slipping them inside to swirl them over your tongue, ancient flavors of hemoglobin and vital fluids leaking down your throat as you obediently suckled on them, only for her to gingerly remove them and plunge them into her own open jaw, gathering the sticky-sweet black paste of her spit before she finally, finally tugged your underwear to the side, a cold rush of air washing across your soaked flesh and you physically jumped in her grasp when the feeling registered - ohhhh, you’re dripping for me, aren’t you? Poor thing must be desperate. Ellie’s eyes never left yours and her iron grip on your face wouldn’t allow you to look away from her in sweet embarrassment as the clawed finger that had just been wetted by her foul mouth slipped between your lower lips, dragging the calloused knuckle up, up, up until it swayed across your clitoris, dancing around it in a tight movement and you utterly fell apart, toes clenching, a fresh wave of sweat beginning to form across your hairline. Her sadistic giggle bounced around in your head, all higher brain function shutting down as she continued to play with your clit, two of her slender fingers rolling your sweet spot now, smiling dangerously in your face and you could feel your own eyebrows and mouth twisting in sick pleasure, relief that she was assuredly touching you. Your legs unfolded and splayed themselves and Ellie took the hint and forced her way to crouch between them, her body slotted across yours and a decaying arm slipped underneath your neck to support you, press your face closer to her, bury it in her freezing shoulder. Ellie had you entirely in her grasp and you were squirming, falling, crying out, chanting her name as if you were translating passages from the vile book that summoned her here - Ellie, Ellie, Eliie, please-uh - her name some fucked up prayer to some fucked up god to please, don’t stop I won’t be able to survive if you stop.

But none of your insistent begging fell on listening ears and she took her absolute time unraveling you from inside out, sniffing and nipping at your collarbones, mixing saccharine kisses in with bites of decomposing teeth. Her patience whilst fucking you into another dimension was unwavering and near frustrating; here you were, panting, chest heaving, eyes rolling in the sockets like loose marbles, whiny noises of perfect agony escaping your throat; Ellie was persistent in her focus on the circles she was painting into your cunt, unblinking, seemingly unaffected by the entire situation (but you could swear you felt her body tremble, a slight intake of breath exhaled as a growl when you cried out her name, and you felt the string of drool dangling onto your shoulder from her open mouth, proof Ellie was as stirred as you were.)

“There you are, filthy girl. Dumb slut, gonna come just from my fingers,” she jeered at you, voice like a foghorn in the mist of the condemned building, reverberating against every wall and every piece of furniture to bounce back into your ears, her words a stark contrast to the sudden gentle presses of her lips down the side of your neck, stopping to softly suck a mark into the frail skin there. The way her mouth couldn't quite form the words properly as she spoke, her teeth and tongue and lips not moving the way a normal human being’s would; her words sometimes unintelligible and scattered, added another layer of god this is terrifying she is so far gone I am so fucked up I am burning for eternity I have lost everything I am so fucking dead but god her fingers feel so fucking perfect I–

Your head was spinning, vision blurry and all you could manage was to press your face deeper into the crevice of the demon’s shoulder, cry out your pleasure there, let her drink up your dependence on her, drink up your unhealthy attachment. Colors that didn’t exist in this realm spotted your eyelids, sparks of something poisonous but addictive bolted through every artery in your body. You imagined every bodily system breaking down, piece by piece, only to be roughly stitched back together again by her bloodstained, sooty nails. That is how she showed her soft spot for you, by breaking you over and over, fixing you, over and over.

The noxious stench of dying spiced fruits permeated your nostrils, flaring and shuddering with your body as her fingers danced between your thighs faster, smoother, conjoined by your own wetness and her slimy drool, your climax quickly bubbling in the base of your spinal cord. You tried to pant out your oncoming apex but Ellie had other ideas, it seemed - and slapped her free hand across your mouth, tight and unforgiving, silencing any pleas of mercy. A cracking whine shuddered from your lips as best as it could under her palm, your eyes closing in fear of her not allowing you to finish; truly, the worst punishment the demon could delve out to you.

“No, no, no, silly girl… look at me when you come, whore. Nasty little thing you are, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

The maliciousness in her words was clouded by her middle finger suddenly criss-crossing over the bundle of your clitoris harder and quicker than before, sloppy noises of your dripping cunt mixed with the vibrations across the room of her incantation, and you were silent-screaming into the woman’s hand by this point, legs shaking, hips fluid and bucking upwards to meet her touch deeper, your neck craned back and throat exposed to her festering mouth. You were actually crying, now, leaving wet rivulets across your heavily flushed cheeks, tears blurring your vision of Ellie’s eyes glaring directly into yours, only mere centimeters between the both of your faces. You could see pure evil there, in her afflicted corneas, demons and darkness dancing across moonlit skies and innocent souls, devoured, torn open and seeping, ancient rituals and rites and passages of resurrection etched into flesh. You saw carnage, all of the horrible, wretched things she had done, and will do, what would happen to you if you so dare break your loyalty to her; limbs torn from each other, eye sockets empty and tongue pulled out like taffy. None of these dank things frightened you, however - you were just as gone as Ellie and had no intention of ever clawing your way out of this grave, this bleached-dead hole of sickness you’d so gracefully delved into. You didn’t want an existence without her, and she would make it so that you stayed dutifully by her side for an eternity you couldn’t begin to fathom.

“There’s my good girl. Come on, come for mommy,”

One, two, three more harsh circles of her fingertip around your pearl and you were careening backwards, nodding uncontrollably and only the whites of your eyes sparkled in the grayness of the room they were rolled back so far into your head, blubbering and sobbing and howling your orgasm out into the palm of her hand, kissing and nipping the broken skin there in appreciation, blind adoration of this creature that had taken you in, sheltered you, fed you. That little death rattled your brain, shook apart your insides - every time she took you, it was as if little shards of your soul got boiled up and swallowed down whole (at some point there would be nothing left of you but a rotting stinking carcass but you never liked to think for the future, anyways.)

Ellie licked a gentle stripe up your neck starting at your collarbone and ending behind your ear, mouthing at the soft patches of pretty skin there along the way, bringing you back down to reality and back down to her. The tension in your body began to dissipate, a soft, sweet feeling of release replacing it; and she was still there, holding you through it all like some sick caregiver, nosing at and licking across your face, throat, chest. Her tongue slid up to your lips and she kissed you, really kissed you, both hands undoing themselves from between your legs and clasped across your mouth to tenderly hold your face, cradling you as she pressed herself to you, pressing butterflies of kisses from your lips to your nose to your forehead and back down. Your breathing steadied, tracing a fingertip up her thin neck and across to her shoulder in a sweet gesture, a lock of her dull red hair twirled in your hand. Ellie was always so much calmer after she’d fucked you, the demon slowing down and enjoying your company, enjoying your caresses and there was real, tangible intimacy between the two of you, and it was something you never thought you would cherish as much as you did. You held Ellie dearly to you, as she did to you in return.

Her words should have terrified you. You should have seen her and ran, screaming, crying, rushed out of the complex and back out into your car and drove as fast as you could as far as you could, never to look back. Just as she should have roared in your presence, stalked you down the elevator - sank her teeth into the back of your neck and ripped and slashed and ate you down until you were bloody and bone and dust. But none of that happened, and you felt twinges of serenity and sleep poking at your eyelids.

“You won’t ever leave me, sweet girl. I won’t ever let you go.”

[mortiaddams13]

I genuinely cannot stop thinking about mid-20s Eddie owning a type writer for the aesthetic of it and because it’s more manageable to him than having a pen and ink because he got ink all over himself and his paper and his handwriting has always been almost too messy to read.  And although Eddie fucks up on his typewriter quite often at least it’s always legible and he can just redo the page and (hopefully) get it right this time around. Plus he picked up writing because he would rather stab himself with a butter knife than wake Wayne during the day by practicing playing or doing DnD at the trailer so he needed to pick up a hobby that he loved and was quiet and writing was perfect for him. And he gets so into writing that he blocks out the world when he writes, sometimes it’s past DnD campaigns and sometimes it’s future ones written like a story. And Steve and Eddie are friends but nothing more yet. Steve occasionally comes by to say hi and Eddie would always answer the door and complain that Steve didn’t need to be so polite about it he can just come in but Steve being the gentleman never does. Then one day Steve drops by with some fresh groceries because Wayne asked him to grab a few for the place that day because he was too tired from his night shift to get them (he called at around 6am and Steve happened to be awake and Wayne passed out immediatey after, knowing Eddie wouldn’t be awake until at least 11:30). Steve, hauling the groceries, knocks on the door, waiting for Eddie. He doesn’t answer so he anxiously uses the doorbell one single time because he’s afraid of waking Wayne but the only thing that can wake Wayne is Eddie singing or playing his guitar or screaming at DnD with his friends, so the doorbell doesn’t even make him twitch. But it doesn’t make Eddie, either. He’s excited to see Eddie, as he always is to come and visit his crush, his heart beating happily in his chest as though it’s skipping, and he waits patiently.  Eddie just sits at his little desk, cleared of trash and miscellaneous crap so he can have his typewriter out from where he stores it in its box in his closet and he’s writing away. Far too engrossed to hear a single thing or even remember which reality he’s actually in. So, finally, Steve just takes Eddie’s words to heart and opens the door himself, storing away the groceries that need to go into the fridge or freezer, and leaves the rest on the counter, not wanting to intrude by putting them all away. But where is Eddie? He knows-or at least is fairly certain-that Eddie is here since his Van is outside, but it’s so quiet inside the trailer that he wonders exactly what’s going on. Anxiety eats at him, memories of Season 4 flashing back to him and he quietly rushes through the trailer, inspecting every single room, praying that neither he nor Eddie are trapped in a Vecna vision even though he knows they’ve killed him already. Finally, he goes Eddie in his room. Just when he opens his mouth to get after the guy he spots the typewriter, sees how completely engrossed he is in what he’s writing and he watches, surprised for a few moments, that Eddie even has a hobby like writing. He comes closer to read it over his shoulder, and stays there for a few minutes until Eddie finishes writing, Steve feeling warm and fuzzy the entire time because there’s a character that’s described exactly the same as him but with a different name romancing Eddie’s DnD character. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises?” Steve asks, but his smile is dazzling, he’s holding the page Eddie just set down where Steve’s character and Eddie’s kiss and he turns bright red, mouth gaping like a fish out of water trying to explain to Steve or make excuses but nothing comes out of his mouth.  Steve lets him struggle for about thirty seconds before he moves in, moving closer to Eddie, reenacting the page he’s holding, and their lips are so close that their lips brush, Eddie instantly starts to pucker up and Steve grins at him. “You know, I’ve liked you for a while but I never expected it to be mutual at all.” Steve teases and when Eddie gasps a little in surprise, he moves closer, pressing their lips together and setting the page down so he can gently lift Eddie up by the hips and then ass to stand up, kissing him tenderly before it turns ravishing, Eddie’s practically seeing stars, never having expected anything like this and he’s even more certain that he’s completely head over heels for Steve.

[strawbrygashez]

Vampire Postal 1 Dude x Postal 3 Dude

Starting to get spoiled

Yep! We r about to get Twilight up in here 🧛‍♀️ uhh tw for blood, needles, cutting ppl open (not descriptive) !!! 😧 this is a bit more uhh sensual than I usually write but nothing super super crazy happens! Ask me to tag anything else

————————————————————————

A postal dude of all people should be used to changes in their life, almost everyday a new situation would present itself to Dude and for the most part, Dude could handle it well and go with the flow and P3 guesses this isn’t the absolute worst new thing he had to introduce to his daily errands list but it was certainly new. Usually after killing someone, he’d just go on his jolly way, perhaps whistling a tune while stepping right on top of newly deceased body now that one more annoyance had been taken care of, but now Dude had to spend a good while after with the cold dead body and occasionally drag them off for even more privacy so there would be less of a chance someone would come across the pretty disturbing scene of Dude trying to collect as much blood from the body as he could.

He was still trying to improve on how he actually went about doing this. The least messy way he found was using a syringe but that took a bit longer than other options and didn’t even really provide that much blood if he didn’t repeat his actions a bunch of times, so sometimes he’d go about it the bit messier way and just find a good place to cut open and drain what he could into some of the bottles he’d started to carry around in his backpack now.

It was kinda a pain to clean himself afterwards if he had other things to do and couldn’t exactly be covered in blood while doing so (which was most of the time) but he didn’t mind much. It was all trial and error since he was new to this but it was definitely worth it to know he’s helping out his boyfriend and to know how thankful he is for this. Seeing as p1 couldn’t go out in the daylight and even still had his phobia of being around people and being outside in general at night, p3 felt like it was his job to help him out and provide what he could for his little blood sucker. Coming home had actually became something p3 looked forward to even more now since when he did, and announced to his fanged boyfriend that he’d gotten him a new supply, the way p1 would perk up made his heart flutter every time..no matter how gay that sounded.

-

P3 was actually looking forward to this right now as he skipped as jolly as ever as his old trailer came into view. Throwing a wave towards Champs direction once he saw the old mutt in his beat up dog house, he quickly sped up to the door, opening it with a loud “Honey! I’m home!”. Only to be met with…no sight of his boyfriend anywhere at first. The light was off for some reason which was pretty unusual. By now P1 would usually be either watching TV or sitting on the couch watching..wolf documentaries on his iPad of all things..which the irony in that had been pointed out to p1 multiple times by now but he didn’t seem to change his interest in the animal despite the jokes.

Confused, P3 switched the lights back on, smiling as a groan came as soon as the lights filled the living room again. Apparently his blood sucker had been laying down on the couch. Tossing his backpack off for now, he made his way over to look down at him from behind the couch, only for his smile to drop as he saw the state P1 was in. He looked pretty miserable, somehow paler than usual as he scowled and pulled the blanket up more over him. “What’s wrong dollface? Did you not drink anything yet? I told you I left some extra bottles in the fridge.” He asked as he ran a hand into P1s long hair. That was another thing he was proud of actually. Since he’d came into P1s life, he’d actually helped him improve in a couple things. One being that he convinced P1 he was worth taking care of himself..so now his hair wasn’t always matted and tangled as it had been before.

P1 leaned into his boyfriend touch but didn’t seem any happier. “No. I know but…mm..” P1 grumbled, apparently not wanting to say exactly what was going on, instead settling to face his head to kiss the palm of p3s hand instead. P3s smile stayed as he ran a thumb across his boyfriends cheek bone. “But what?” He asked. P1 looked up at him for a moment, in thought about something before shaking his head. “You’ll..get mad at me if i-..” he yet again mumbled. The brunette of the two rolled his eyes playfully before removing his hand from him and crossing his arms on the back of the couch. “Did you manage to trick some poor pizza guy to come over and now he’s rotting in our room? Or maybe he kicked your ass and that’s why you’re all mopey?” P3 knew at times when P1 won’t spit out what he wants to say or is holding something in, humor or messing with him usually helped. They were a pretty good match in that way.

P1 rolled his eyes now too and finally sat up, giving p3 the chance to see how bad off p1 actually was at the moment. His face was even skinner than usual and his eyes looked ‘dead’ which was a usual sign he hadn’t drank in a while..which he already said he hadn’t but- “I don’t want some uh..like pizza guys blood.” The fanged Dude said. P3 nodded and joked “yeah you’re too good for that.” P1 glared at him for just a minute before rubbing his eyes and continuing. “I don’t want…Dude. I..The blood you’ve been bringing back is..okay. I appreciate it but it’s all so cold and-”

“You can probably heat blood up. Yknow we have a microwave..might make it smell bad for me but I dunno I might like it! When someone is burning they kinda smell like chicken so..”

P1 squinted a moment before sighing. “No. I’m just trying to say..the last time I had yours…it was so good and warm.. all these other random other people I’m drinking from aren’t as good.” He finally confessed. P3 couldn’t help but get..a tiny bit red at that (probably not helping the situation here since p1 sounds like he could eat him whole right now since apparently..he was ‘warm’). He gave a slight nervous chuckle before standing up straight again. “Didnt I let you do that at least twice last week? I think you’re just starting to get spoiled…” P3 said before starting to go over to grab his backpack to provide him with a bottle. And for fucks sake..a fucking whine sounded like it slipped out of his boyfriend. “Pleassee… I’m not getting spoiled…it’s just you taste really good and I’m tired of random peoples bland cold blood.”

Now one of p3s favorite things about his boyfriends whole ‘vampire’ thing was all the sucking and tasting innuendos. It was just too easy. He smirked and stopped in his steps to look back over at him. “I taste good, huh? In more ways than one?” Now either p1 knew what he was doing or he was just dense but either way..he nodded. “Mhm..and..maybe if you let me have what I want..I’ll ‘taste’ you the other way after.” It was a miracle in P1s mind he was able to get that sentence out with a minimal shake in his voice. He still wasn’t used to being with someone..or even being in situations like that with someone but he supposed fair was fair and well..he is his boyfriend so he obviously would wanna do that anyways. And of course, when p1 had gotten that offer out, p3 being the horn dog he is, changed his tune real quick.

“Yknow what? I’ll take ya up on that.” He smirked as he made his way back to him on the couch. P1 grinned as p3 made his way to sit down and scooted over but paused when p3 did while the smirk left. “Just..be good and don’t yknow fucking kill me. Or I guess you can. Dying because of you would be alright I suppose.” He finished, finally sitting down. P1 shook his head playfully and scooted up closer. “Of course not.” Now that P1 was this close…maybe it would have been a good idea to have drank some beforehand because the way p3 smelled was intoxicating..and the heat coming off him was almost too much. He hadn’t felt this much of a need for him in this way before.. not being able to really hold back, he made his way to sit on his lap, not wasting much time to lean in close to the side of p3s neck, taking in the warmth and how his vains seemed to pop out in P1s eyes. P3 felt the tip of his boyfriend nose slowly move across the side of his neck which caused him to swallow. He felt like fucking prey under him which..still wasn’t something p3 was used to. Not that it scared him, he trusts p1 but he was usually the one in control. To regain somewhat of a grasp of the situation, he held onto P1s thin hips as he continued.

“Let go.” He whispered, still not moving away from his neck. Before p3 could ask why, his boyfriend continued before licking a stripe up his neck. “Take off your jacket.” The brunette listened and shrugged off what he could while sitting down and p1 helped pushed the sleeve down out of his way from what side he was leaned into. Now he had much better access to the area he drank from last time which he could still see the scars from. A mix of feelings washed over him as he saw his old bite and fang marks in the skin where Dudes shoulder met his neck. Mostly he felt proud and content knowing he’d been walking around with that even though he rarely took his jacket off. For just a moment he imagined him taking it off just for some bitch to get jealous of him, seeing he belonged to someone else. But those thoughts could wait for later. He felt practically in heaven in this situation right now and not taking a bite already felt like he was just teasing himself..but he supposed a little preparation was always good.

Apparently he wasn’t only teasing himself however, feeling a sudden..sign in p3s pants that he was enjoying this in some way too. The ginger couldn’t help but giggle and go back in to lick over the spot he’d previously bit. He heard a small breath leave his boyfriend and his hands once again return to his hips. “You’re too good to me.” P1 whispered as he glanced down to his boyfriends tan skin. “I know. That’s wh- MM-!” The little fucker cut him off with one more lick from the flat of his tongue, only to finally sink his fangs in. P3 didn’t hate the feeling, it felt amazing the past two times and he sure it will start to feel better in a minute but the sharp first sting always had him biting his own bottom lip.

P1 brought his other hand up to hold onto p3s other shoulder to hold himself up steady as he quickly felt himself getting lost in the way p3 tasted. In all of his life nothing compared to the warmth and taste of him. Something about it was just so much better than anyone else he’d ever drank from and it certainly helped that his boyfriend eventually started to raise one of his hands up to his back to ‘soothe’ him when he was the one getting fucking drank from. P3 ran his thumb up and down a area of his boyfriends spine as he listened to the little noises that escaped from his vampires throat. He (correctly) assumed this was also satisfying more than his literal thirst ..especially when p1 would occasionally grind in closer to him and it didn’t take long for the ginger to get worked up himself too to where his boyfriend could feel it and him panting.

P3 couldn’t help but to groan a couple times and let his body relax as more and more of blood was taken from him. All of this made his body feel hot and his head feel dizzy like usual but this time..he felt a bit more dizzy than usual. It was probably because p1 was..really drinking more from him than he usually did. He’d never felt a liquid start rolling down himself during this before but he certainly did now. He also felt his boyfriend huff even more as he continued and felt the fucker even bite down harder, like he was forgetting, ‘hey you’re drinking from ur boyfriend here’. And it was getting all too much when P1s knee pressed in between his legs more and the room felt like it was spinning.

With what energy he could muster, he let out a silent “hey…” when p1 didn’t answer and just kept on ‘enjoying his meal’ that he was taking a bit too much enjoyment of, he gave a slight pat to his hip. “Hey. C-calm down already..y-you’re gonna- I’m not gonna have much blood left sk-skippy.” Thankfully this got P1s attention this time and he finally slowly unhooked his fangs out, quickly licking up what was still pouring out before sitting up straight to look at p3. And sure, p3 felt super fucking light headed and probably wouldn’t be in the mood for his bj anymore now that he can’t focus on one thing much and was tired as shit but what he did notice and take immense pleasure of was how fucking blissed out his boyfriend looked now..only being slightly terrified that his boyfriends mouth and chin was pretty well covered in his blood.

The life in his eyes was back and even some color was in his face now. His cheeks were back to looking a bit plumper again too. He watched as p1 licked his lips and a slurty grin appeared on his face. “Guessed you had fun hm??” P3 asked as he rested his head back on the couch. “Mhm~ thank you babe.” P1 sang as he leaned in to give him a quick kiss. P3 only hummed ‘mhm’ back before closing his eyes. The ginger stared at him for a moment longer while licking more of the blood off his lips before going to slip back down onto the ground to get started on his side of the deal..until a hand grabbed his upper arm and p3 only shook his head. “Forget it. You nearly damn killed me I just wanna chill for a moment.”

“Oh…sorry…do you want me to patch up your arm?” P1 innocently asked as he looked back over to the bloody shoulder. Again p3 shook his head and now pulled p1 up closer and wrapped his arms around him. “Nope. Just stay still for a minute would ya?” The vampire grinned and nuzzled into him. “Fine..you know we wouldn’t have this problem maybe if you’d let me turn you into a vampi-”

“We’ll get there when we get there” the brunette mumbled as he got moved to get more comfortable. P1 chuckled and finally closed his eyes too. “Of course”

[talkingbl]

GMMTV 2024 Part 2: Winners and Losers

Losers

GMMTV as a whole by creating shows for ships instead of ships for shows. They really pulled the KristSingto and (seemingly) EstWilliam shows out of their asses just to give these two pairs something to star in. And even to the shows based on works by others, I feel like they looked for ships first, concept second.

Now, that's not to say none of those series will be good. On the contrary, I am highly anticipating Thame-Po, for example. Just that it's not a good way to get the best content. But it makes money and Thailand is a capitalist economy, so I guess that's expected.

Perfect10 Liners. Yawn.

Winners

The Heart Killers. While I'm not sure exactly what the plot is supposed to be, it does seem intriguing and the chemistry between both pairs is off the charts. I don't think I've seen FirstKhao in a more natural posture, and JoongDunk are actually trying to act a little here. I do hope they minimize the comedy aspect (since this seems like a cross between a thriller and a rom-com), but this is gmmtv and it stars JoongDunk alongside a (in my opinion) much more talented pair of actors. It seems that Jojo Tichakorn is at the helm on this one so I am only cautiously anticipating... Lately, Jojo has a habit of literally changing his stories after they've been shot in order to satisfy viewers. He's not as bad as aof who takes edgy concepts and makes them boring, but he's starting to show creativity-stifling behaviors that I don't appreciate.

Sweet Tooth, Good Dentist. I really hope GMMTV does two things with this script: 1) condense the backstory of how they got together and focus on the vlogger/food review couple aspect, and 2) give their relationship an obstacle that will be difficult to surmount in the present timeline.

I will say, this storyline is not new at all, but it helps a lot that Mark and Ohm's chemistry is unique among the GMMTV lineup, they look INSANE together, and they're both improving as actors with each role.

Thame-Po Heart That Skips A Beat. I honestly thought WilliamEst was just in everyone's imagination because I literally have not seen any content of them. But then...OH BOY BUT THEN...the Thame-Po trailer dropped!

I usually hate to see singers in acting roles because usually either the talent or the passion (or both) is lacking. But William seemed competent in the trailer. It helps that the storyline is just his regular life with a few curveballs thrown in, but it works well enough.

And then Est...oh boy EST. He really shocked me in this trailer. Not only is he portraying a wide range of emotions through his eyes quite well, but he's also doing an excellent job at playing off of William. He is my favorite part of the trailer and makes me wonder what he'd be like next to a more seasoned actor. (Nothing against William, of course).

To address the elephant in the room: I think most people were expecting a traditional seme-uke type of pairing with Est being seme-coded. But I like the fact that they didn't really code the story in this way.

[jetravenex]

I don't think I've ever been as hype for a game as I was when the first pokemon mystery dungeon dropped. The excitement at playing a pokemon for some reason thrilled me to my core. I remember looking at the promotional materials for it (and I can vaguely recall the trailers) and just how hype the concept was. Also PMD Red Rescue team was the first pokemon game that fit my real name (my real name was too long to fit in any pokemon game prior so I always had to shorten it) I spent many late nights as a kid playing Red Rescue Team, and I remember how grateful I was that they released Red Rescue team for Gameboy advance as at the time I hadn't gotten a DS. (though once I got my DS lite, I was immediately excited to play Red Rescue Team with the DS lite's backlight) Red Rescue team will always have a special place in my heart. But Explorers of Time/Sky just hit different. That story was just *chef's kiss*. I loved everything about it. Dialga is one of my favorite legendary pokemon (one of the first ones I caught successfully in a game, I think I might've only succeeded on catching a few of the legendary birds prior (I basically played gen 1, some of gen 2 I may have gotten stuck behind the sudowoodo when I played gen 2 and then skipped ahead to gen 4) I think also it just had mons I really liked. I adored playing as piplup in time, and then I got vulpix in sky (with riolu as my partner). The update to the portrait images. The updates they made in sky (those episode were so much fun, the new partners, the cafe, shaymin) were amazing. ALSO THE POST GAME IN EXPLORERS. While the ones that came after it didn't quite hit the same highs as Red Rescue Team or Explorers of Time/Sky. I still really enjoyed playing through Gates to Infinity. Super Mystery Dungeon was also fun, but since you could recruit every pokemon once you beat the game I know I got very bored with it unfortunately. I do like that they made all the mons recruitable and definitely early on you're like 'ooo cool I can recruit these mons' but one of the things I did like in gates to infinity was the ability to go on adventures with your teammates without partner and hero. In my head it was fun to just have Volt the Joltik and Muse the litwick go adventuring together on smaller missions and be their own little duo just taking care of the smaller tasks while the hero and partner were off gallivanting. IT was like having the ability to play some little side characters, and they're pokemon you recruited so they're just more the merrier. Which I think was something sadly lost in super mystery dungeon with the sheer abundance of members you can wind up with. I do like that it was a push to allow you to get every mon but also, woof that was a lot of pokemon. Plus if you just got the evolved forms, it kind of defeated the purpose of training up the pre evolutions because it was like 'well why bother evolving them, their evolved forms are already in my team' But the additions of wands and other stuff were fun little features, that I am glad to see carried into DX. Speaking of DX WHERE IS THE EXPLORERS OF TIME/SKY REMAKE. Gosh give me that game with a fresh coat of paint. I do love the pixel style of the time with that, but I would still like to see it get the DX treatment and jsut see how it plays with all the series improvements. I just want more Pokemon Mystery Dungeon T.T

I would be interested to know that your favorite part is PMD (Pokemon Mystery Dungeon), mine would probably be Sky and PSMD both are equally good in my opinion and I find it difficult to choose.(but basically I like all games of PMD)

I hope everyone enjoys the survey.

[talenlee]

Game Pile: Lunark

Lunark Gushing

Watch this video on YouTube

And there’s a thumbnail after the fold, and the script outline afterwards.

Lunark is a 2023 step-platformer from Canari Studios, a Montreal-based indie game company, Wayforward games, an America-based indie game publisher, and me! Well, not me directly, but I, and two thousand eight hundred and twenty three other people all pledged some money, around $28 a head, back in 2019. It raised $81,655 on the back of a promise of a pixel-art step puzzle platformer, with rotoscoped cutscenes, and that’s exactly what I got, exactly what it is.

Well, short script, guess I can knock off early.

Lunark’s excellent. I did back it on kickstarter, entirely based on the trailer, and because it reminded me of Flashback. I loved that game, and loved all the first third of it I ever played, and the weeks of time I spent playing that part of the game.

Flashback was a great game for its time and I don’t just mean that because videogames hadn’t invented machine guns yet. It was great because the whole game fit on a 3.5 inch floppy so if you saw it at a mate’s place you could zip it up and take your own copy home and maybe photocopy some copy protection (I think) or their copy was cracked (probably). In that time, a single floppy was a great size for a game. You weren’t logging onto the internet to download new games all the time, you were having these rare meetings of going around to a friend’s house or seeing someone you didn’t often see to broaden your network of available software, and in that space, Flashback was great.

Flashback was a game that unfolded. Setting aside the core mystery you were dropped into tabula rasa, it was a game whose mechanical system felt like it was immediately available, just there under your fingertips as you played it, but which you had to learn how to coax out with the right positions, the right timing, the right combinations of buttons. Learning how to play it meant getting to know how it worked through the plot itself, which, and I know I’m not alone in this, often meant restarting the whole game to see an early cutscene again because you didn’t see what it told you to do next because you pressed a button and accidentally skipped the cutscene wholly.

Flashback was a time abyss of a game with a big beating mystery at its heart compelling you to finish it and I never did and nobody I know ever did but we all agreed that it played really well and we liked it. It was cool and it looked amazing and we definitely liked it. Do you know how it ends? Nope. Nobody did. Why’d you stop? uh, there was that bit.

You can go and play the original Flashback in a number of places, including a gog remake that… may be fine, I don’t know, and honestly don’t really care. The stylisation filter they put on it looks like my attempting to hide photoshopped-out tattoos on pictures by making the whole image’s skin texture rubbery and shiny. That’s not even touching on the 3d remake which is, uhm, well, I was told if I can’t say anything nice and the company that made it is probably out of business now anyway, since the only other game they made was Amy.

[maybe a clip from the folding ideas speedrun of amy]

The thing with going back and playing these old DOS games is that you need some heavy nostalgia to stick with them or a deep and abiding interest in getting to the end for some other reason, like a self-assigned dedication to trying to play games every week to get through a sort of ‘game pile’ as it were. Most of them work fine, but also, they’re not very good at encouraging you to play them, some of them are really repetitive, their narratives and conclusions aren’t really very interesting, the logic can be positively absurd at times, but also, very importantly, most of them have awkward interfaces. Not bad, not a huge problem, but there’s a lot of game interface language that you marinate in right now that is kind of universalised by the right things succeeding and most people adopting them.

WASD movement, which is the standard for first person shooters, was not the default in DOOM. Nor was it the default in Quake, where you were expected to toggle strafing with the alt key. Sierra, one of the companies most renowned for point-and-click games of the generation, made point and click games for less than half their life, and even then, the model people assume is standard only lasted for about five years.

When you go back to play these old DOS-era games, you were very likely to find an interface designed by someone with some very specific ideas of what was natural and intuitive and often you couldn’t customise them at all. Some designers thought the most natural way to move left and right was with the O and P keys, and jump and duck with the Q and A keys.

I bring this up to you to underscore that Lunark, as a game, owes a lot of how it looks to this particular period of rotoscoped pixel art that we mostly tie to Flashback and Prince of Persia, but what it owes about how it plays and the story it tells is not about how Flashback plays, but rather, how I remember Flashback feeling.

I mean, okay, yes, you could just simplify that into ‘Flashback but it plays really well,’ and that’s a place to start. It’s not just ‘that thing you like, in a bigger cup,’ though. I like Lunark a lot, and I like it as its own thing, which is very important. Enjoying it though, had all these moments when I thought ‘oh, is this going to be like this thing, from other games,’ and the game has an almost perfect sense for when introducing that thing would piss me off, and routes around it, or, when it would be perfect and revels in it.

You know something a lot of step platformers don’t do well? Combat and boss battles. Know what Lunark does a surprisingly good job of? Yeah! I was surprised! The step platformer tends to be a game which makes a puzzle of movement, with really deliberate and fixed-animation movement to boot and how do you treat that kind of movement in combat (you know, when there’s immediate risk of harm)? It feels weird to say this, but Lunark has a number of boss fights that feel like they cracked the puzzle without complicating the interface, and it’s just, really? Quite good?

Lunark has boss battles! And they’re interesting and good and they don’t feel like they’re repeating the same basic pattern, nor do they feel like they overstay their welcome. It’s very honest, hey, this is a boss battle and all the bits of how it works are visible, and that honestly plays into the honesty of the rest of the game. There are sure some execution problems, the game doesn’t mislead you or lie to you. Even the narrative, which is about a main character trying to solve a mystery, is mostly a mystery because people are withholding information, not because you’re somehow wrong about something important.

It’s a game that feels classical and invigorated by deeply loving its source material. Where Flashback unfolded through stages to reveal a game that was pretty good, Lunark is every bit as good, with a better interface, and an equally solid narrative told through the same mix of short cutscenes and character dialogue and play experience as Flashback did. And the story isn’t complicated, or even particularly complex. What it is, is obtuse; for the most part, the sequence of events that make up the story, and its background, all follow a reasonably coherent, sensible set of choices, but because your character doesn’t know what’s going on.

Lunark is amazing, and part of why it’s amazing is because it feels like it loves Flashback enough to know how to do Flashback better. You can make things that are like the things you love, and just add some more care, and more love, and a big monster that huggs you and an opportunity to pat some animals. That’s pretty cool.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#GamePile #Games

[ceridescent]

i had a thought that most definitely has been had before but i figured id share with u.

im imagining a scenario in which wanda and r are the most perfect couple. the most romantic of romance if u will. the couple that their friend group and family members just envy bc of how pure their love is. but one day they get into a car accident and r develops amnesia. when r wakes up, they don’t know who wanda or anyone significant in their life is so they just solely focus on trying to recover and move past the accident.

since r doesn’t know who wanda is and as much as wanda tries to get r to remember, they just can’t. so r tries to move on with their life, even going so far as to go on dates with other people, finding a new job and hobbies, and might even move away. everyone else accepts the fact r doesn’t remember them and wants to move on. but this absolutely crushes wanda to see the love of her life forget about and kinda want nothing to do with her.

but seeing as wanda is still incredibly in love with r, she stops stop at nothing for r to remember her.

so basically the movie The Vow lol

i apologize for seeing this now! i may have not seen it in my phone oof boomer alert

anyGAY! wow you had me smiling until the angst bomb dropped on me. that must have crushed wanda ughhhhh just seeing the LOML move on with life with no abandon by going on dates, figuring that there's nothing in their town worth staying for so R gets super excited planning on moving out of there. she must have begged R's relatives and friends to keep trying but she couldn't see eye to eye those who already accepted R's course of journey. it only takes so much courage and hope for a person to pursue something/someone, even though it's the only one that keeps them going.

QUESTION: since i have no idea how anmesia affects the brain (except erasing memories), does it also affect our emotions?? i know for a fact that there's a brain part (hypothalamus???) that makes us feel emotions or something...i'm just hoping R's heart skipped a beat or something when R saw wanda,,, familiarity, maybe? or a gut feeling i'm not sure

i haven't watched the vow yet but i may have watched the trailer YRS ago??? i'll put that on the list

[blindmagdalena]

Kinktober request: #5 or #22 homelander x reader ❤️❤️

Homelander x f!reader. Notes:  18+ breeding kink + creampie/semi-public sex + clothed sex + daddy/mommy kink. see AO3 link for detailed tags. Sequel. It's been nearly a year since the start of your whirlwind relationship with none other than The Homelander, and about a week since the two of you decided you wanted to start a family. By his logic, if he's going to put a baby in you, he needs to fuck you as often as possible, even if that means in a flimsy trailer on the set of his upcoming film.

“Aaaand cut! Perfect, absolutely perfect, sir,” the director calls out, pleased as punch.

Homelander offers two thumbs up to the crowd of eager extras, who clap excitedly. “You hear that, folks? Perfect. Aaalright, awesome. Take five, you deserve it!” He goes on, pointing to actors and crew alike as he makes his way by. When he spots you waiting by his seat, his expression lights up like the 4th of July. You never get tired of it.

Ready for him, you offer him an uncapped bottle of water. He takes it immediately, knocking back a long swig of it. The bottle is half empty when he hands it back to you. “Hey, babe. Glad you could make it,” he greets loudly, leaning down to press a sweet, perfectly chaste kiss to your lips. “Five fuckin’ takes for some mindless cheering,” he mutters under his breath, for your ears alone. “Fucking amatuers.”

You smile sympathetically, half wincing on his behalf, biting back a laugh. “It was a little painful to watch. You were great, though,” you say just as quietly, twisting the cap back on the bottle.

“Yeah, naturally,” he scoffs, though you can see the praise settle warmly in his expression. He puts his hands on his hips, giving you a once-over. There’s a subtle shift in his expression, particularly around his eyes. “Hey, run some lines with me?” he asks, bringing his voice up loud enough to be overheard. “There’s a few things I wanna try with you. See how they feel.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Of course.”

Homelander leads you to his trailer, opening the door and gesturing you through like a proper gentleman, though some of the effect is lost when he gives you a swift and playful slap on the ass as you walk past him. “ Homelander,” you scold through a laugh. Before you can even set down the water bottle you’re carrying, Homelander catches you by the wrist and spins you right around, pulling you in for a hungry kiss, the persona he wore for the crew dissipating immediately.

You drop the water bottle to the ground without a thought, wrapping your arms around his neck. His gloved hands descend on you, cupping your ass to pull you tight against him. His lips part readily for your tongue, moving against yours eagerly. You can already feel the tension of the day beginning to unwind from his muscles, which never fail to relax beneath your touch. Every time you come back to one another, whether it’s been hours or days, he kisses you like it’s been months, and holds you like he’ll never let you go.

“Get my belt,” he murmurs, squeezing your ass. You oblige right away, reaching into the narrow bit of space between your bodies to unclasp the buckle. You get the zipper down, but that’s as far as you get before he’s cupping his hands under your ass and hoisting you up against him. It startles a giggle out of you, breaking the kiss. He sets you down on the counter built into the wall of the trailer, pressing in close between your legs.

The extra height gives him the perfect vantage to kiss his way down your throat. When he reaches the first button of your shirt, he brings his hands up and simply yanks the whole thing open, sending the pearlized little white buttons flying every which way, startling a gasp from you. “You have to stop doing that, I’m running out of shirts,” you tell him, laughing breathlessly.

Homelander’s grinning. “I’ll stop when it stops turning you on,” he counters, pushing his gloved hands into your shirt, settling on your bare waist. He leans in to nuzzle at your chest, kissing at your cleavage. He starts to move his hands to your bra, but you stop him with two hands on his wrists, pushing his right back down to your waist.

“Don’t you dare,” you tell him, reaching up to unclasp the front closure of your bra. “I like this bra.”

“I like it better on the floor,” he purrs, looking down to admire your chest, licking his lips. His eyes glaze over a little, struck by the assortment of marks that decorate your body. Despite the feverish way he behaves, as if it’s been ages since he felt you, he fucked you thoroughly this morning, and the proof of it has blossomed beautifully on your skin.

“Fuck,” he breathes, leaning in to mouth at one of the bruises just above your breast. It’s tender, but the gentle way he tends to it makes you shiver pleasantly. He kisses a trail lower until his lips close over your nipple, sucking with a pleased sigh. He’s always loved your tits, whether he has his mouth on them or his cock between them. He can’t ever help but play with them, and after this morning, they’re still a little sore.

“Mm, gentle, sweetheart. Still tender,” you remind him, threading your fingers through his hair. The pressure of his lips lessens instantly, turning into more kissing and laving than sucking, the heat of his mouth erupting goosebumps across your skin. Lovingly, you drag your nails along his scalp, sighing softly yourself. “Nothing there for you yet,” you say, amused, watching as he switches from one breast to the other.

“Emphasis on yet,” he says, straightening up to kiss you again. He pulls you up off of the counter, and moves you instead to the bed tucked in at the far wall of his trailer. He sets you down gently on the mattress. For all that he loves marking you up with his mouth, he never fails to handle you like you’re made of glass. Not only because you’re fragile in the face of his strength, but because you are precious. “Roll over,” he tells you, standing straight. “Show me.”

Your stomach flips with excitement. Rolling over onto your belly, you sit up on your knees, and reach under your skirt to pull down your underwear, leaving it around your thighs. Looking over your shoulder at him, you make a show of lowering yourself first onto your hands and knees, and then further down until you fold your arms on the bed, and rest your head atop them, leaving your ass raised.

Homelander’s gloved hands slide up the backs of your bare thighs, slowly pushing your skirt up over your hips. “Christ,” he hisses like he’s been gut punched. He brushes a single finger down the line of your ass until he reaches your pussy, where the end of a pretty pink toy sits flush. “You kept this in all morning?”

You smile, giving your hips a little wiggle. “Yeah. Didn’t wanna waste a drop.” He groans, but instead of responding, you feel him brace both hands on your ass, and the next thing you know he’s dragging his tongue in circles along the rim of the toy, wringing a gasp from you.

His tongue flattens against your clit and you rock your hips without a thought, moaning at the hot, wet press of it. He gives your ass a sharp little slap, the sound muffled by the leather of his gloves, but the feel of it is no less delicious. You know he’s encouraging you, so you push back harder against him, making proper use of his tongue while he keeps you spread wide, the toy grinding a little deeper into you with every push against his mouth.

You moan loud, which earns a low chuckle from Homelander, the rumble of it against your clit driving you wild. “Any louder, you’re gonna end up in the movie,” he says, reminding you that there is in fact a live film crew right outside the flimsy tin-can walls of this temporary trailer. A rush of embarrassment flushes your cheeks, but you barely have time to process it before Homelander is at it again, holding your ass tight while he laps and sucks at your clit. You quickly cover your mouth, muffling another low moan. Homelander is a menace with his tongue, curling the tip of it firm against you, flicking faster and more consistently than any normal man or toy could hope to.

One final slap to your ass tips you over the edge. The shock of sensation combined with the swirl of his tongue hurls you into an orgasm that ripples through your entire body, leaving your cunt clenching desperately around the toy buried inside you.

You jerk slightly as Homelander continues to lazily lap at you, slurping loudly and purposefully enough that you know he’s preening.

“John,” you moan softly, flinching away from his persistent mouth. He strokes up the backs of your thighs, petting you as he relents, drawing away. You adjust yourself on your knees, spreading your legs wider. Your shirt and bra hang open while your skirt is hiked up over your hips, panties down to your knees, leaving you somehow both dressed and yet wholly exposed. “John, get this thing out of me. Fuck me. I want to feel you.”

You hear Homelander stand, and then place one hand on your hip, while the other grips the end of the pink plug. You feel the leather tips of his glove brush your pussy as he twists it slowly, drawing it out just a touch before he pushes it back inside. “You are going to have to ask me nicer than that, sweetheart,” he purrs, thrusting it lightly in and out. You whine, twisting your hand in the bedding. “I didn’t even hear a ‘please’ in there.”

“Please, John,” you correct, lips curling into a mischievous smile. You sway your hips side to side before pushing back against him, chasing the deep press of the toy, only for Homelander to follow your movement, keeping it infuriatingly still inside you. “Please, fuck me.”

“Nooot quite,” he says, and though you can tell he’s trying to sound unaffected, there’s a roughness to his voice. He’s as impatient as you are. You can feel it in the way his hand flexes on your hip, restraint buzzing in him like an electrical thrum. He twists the toy again. “Ask real nice.”

“Please, daddy,” you moan, arching your back even deeper. “I need you to fuck me.” Homelander’s hand tightens on your hip, his grip just shy of painful, just how you like it. You hope he leaves a bruise there, too. You hope he fucks you so good you can’t sit without remembering it.

Finally, blessedly, Homelander pulls the toy out. You hear his breath hitch as the mess he made of you this morning drips out alongside it. He catches it with his gloved fingers and pushes it right back in, pumping them easily into your slick cunt. “Fffffuck,” he says though his teeth, withdrawing his fingers. You feel the wetness of it drip down the insides of your thighs, and spread your legs back wide.

“Daddy’s got you,” he says, an answer to the sweet way you whimper for him. You feel the thick head of his cock press against you, followed almost immediately by the familiar aching stretch of it spreading you open. “That’s it. Fuck, fit so good on daddy’s cock.” Homelander holds you steady, rocking in and out, moving deeper with each thrust. You’re still so fucking soaked from this morning, from his tongue working you up, that it’s an easy glide all the way inside.

Forgetting yourself, you give a loud, keening moan when he bottoms out. It’s too much not to, the sheer heat and weight of his cock taking you apart. You’re still slightly tender at your core, and the press of him at that tenderness feels so fucking good, you think you’re going to lose your mind.

“Ssshhh,” Homelander coos, though it sounds tight, hushed through a clenched jaw. “You need some help keepin’ quiet, sweetheart?”

Feverishly, you nod. You try to grind back against him, but all it takes is one hand braced on your ass to keep you perfectly in place. Homelander leans over you, and with his free hand, takes hold of your face, his palm planted firmly over your mouth, thumb and fingers digging into either side of your face.

“Don’t you worry,” he says. You think you can hear him biting his tongue, maintaining his composure by a thin thread. “Daddy’s gonna put a baby in you.”

Homelander snaps his hips against yours, and the cry you give is thoroughly muffled behind his gloved hand. The pace he adopts is immediately relentless, skin striking skin like a match, igniting a roaring fire inside you. You give a weak moan into his palm, eyes rolling back into your skull. There’s nowhere in the world you feel better than in his hands, pressed snug against him, at the mercy of his strength. Homelander could easily snap you in half with an ounce of this power, but instead he pours himself into using it to give you everything you want.

The first time he left you bruised, he looked twice as wounded by it. When you begged him to do it again, he learned just how deeply you loved it, how much you needed it. The two of you have relished in it ever since; seeing your ownership of each other marked across your body. You own his strength, and he owns your fragility.

You’re sucking in breaths as deep as you can from your nose alone, losing yourself in the sound of him fucking you. You can feel your eyes misting not from pain, but from the sheer overwhelm of pleasure, of your emotions soaring alongside it to an all time high. Homelander has learned so perfectly how to fuck you, but more importantly than that, he has learned how to love you.

Homelander’s as rough off as you are. You can hear him panting, his thrusts losing their consistency, growing faster. You’re both hurdling rapidly towards the peak of your release, which makes it all the worse when he abruptly pulls out of you.

You cry out your spike of frustration against his palm, confused. His hand leaves your mouth and grabs at your hips instead, flipping you over so swiftly that you have to catch your breath. “Wha—“ you don’t get to finish, or really even formulate a thought before Homelander is descending back down upon you, kissing you with such a fervency that it takes your breath away all over again.

“Want to see you,” he murmurs against your lips, lining himself back up. You moan into the kiss as he pushes right back inside you, quickly picking up that same pace. “Want to see you come. See you take my load. See you become a mother,” he says, voice rough, practically a growl. His hand settles right back over your mouth, holding you firmly in place as he keeps your eyes on his. “So fucking beautiful. Look at you. Fuck, be my sweet mommy, won’t you? Tits fat, carrying the child of a god,” he says, the last word falling from his lips like a moan.

Your own moans crescendo into near sobs, the pressure inside you building back up so rapidly that you can barely process what he’s saying, let alone any words of your own, even if you could speak. He’s fucking you absolutely stupid, knocking every thought out of your brain and leaving only the feel, smell and taste of him. 

Homelander hikes your legs up so high you’re bent nearly in half, each thrust rocking the bed, as well as the whole fucking trailer. Even without your cries, there’s no way the entire set hasn’t noticed the shake of it. They know he’s fucking you, there’s no doubt of that, but do they know he’s making you the mother of his child, marking you so thoroughly inside and out that there could be no doubt in the world that you’re his, and he’s yours?

Your body locks up and you scream into Homelander’s hand, stars erupting behind your eyes, the explosion of pleasure brighter and louder in your ears than any 4th of July could hope to be. It’s joined immediately by the white hot heat of his own release, flooding you with pump after pump of his come. Homelander doesn’t stop, he fucks it into you as deep as he can, riding the waves of your shared orgasm until he can’t stand it anymore, going still above you with a quivered noise.

Homelander’s hand lifts carefully from your face, falling to the bed next to your head. When you open your eyes, they’re bleary with tears. When you meet his gaze, you see that his are just as wet as yours. He whispers your name, and kisses you with a tenderness that is far more likely to shatter you than any blow.

Feeling weak and brainless, you barely manage to lift your arms enough to cup either side of his face, holding him against you with all the strength you can muster.

“I love you,” he says, voice wrecked with lovesickness. It devastates you, sets loose the tears that had been welling in your eyes. You kiss him back, pouring the love swelling painfully in your chest into every moment of it, stroking his face with your fingers, even as they tingle, borderline numb from the vice grip you held the sheets in.

“I love you, too,” you whisper, voice cracking. Your body feels like it’s buzzing all over, lit bright with electrical currents. 

The two of you stay like that for a long while, gradually regaining rational thought. You can hear the din of conversation in the distance, the film crew and other set members going about their business. That mortification is something you will have to address another time, as at the moment, you’re far too blissed out to care.

Homelander is the first to move, carefully lifting himself up off of you. He doesn’t go far, however, just enough to move you gently onto your side. Moving in close behind you, your breath catches as he gently slips his cock right back inside you, stopping the spill.  Nuzzling  at the back of your neck, he settles, wrapping both of his arms around you. Relaxing against him comes as easily as breathing, the edges of your bodies slotting together like jigsaw pieces. You tap his hand lightly, and automatically, he lifts it so that you can slide off his glove, allowing you to interlace your fingers properly with his.

It’s a few minutes more after that before you can even begin to formulate a sentence. “That was…” You realize you don’t even have a word for what that was. Somehow, the passion he is capable of inspiring still leaves you speechless.

“You’re everything I never thought I could have,” he says, voice ghosting along the shell of your ear before he kisses it. You squeeze his hand tightly, looking over your shoulder at him. He’s smiling lazily, eyes cast low. You stretch to kiss him, and he meets you halfway. “Everything I ever wanted.”

“You have me,” you assure him, stroking his hand. “Now. Tomorrow. Forever.”

“Forever,” he echoes, the word sounding like a promise on his lips. You settle back down on the pillow, and he sinks back down against you.

It doesn’t take you long to doze. Within ten minutes, you’re drifting in and out of consciousness. Maybe fifteen minutes after that, you hear the most tentative knock the world has ever known.

“Uh-uhm, Homelander, sir? Y-you’re n-needed on set,” comes a voice as mousy as the knock had been, some poor intern who sounded like he thought he was about to lose his job and his life in one fell swoop.

“Tell them they can fuckin’ wait an hour,” Homelander practically snarls, a sharp contrast to the sweetness he always speaks to you with. “I’m on lunch.”

“Y-yes sir!” Comes the response, followed by hurried steps dashing far, far away from the trailer.

With an amused little grunt, Homelander snuggles back in against you.

“You terrorize them,” you accuse, the tired smile audible in your voice.

Homelander chuckles. “S’good for them. Builds character.”

“Oh, so that’s the type of father you’ll be?” You ask, stroking the back of his hand.

He shifts his hand down, cupping it over your belly, rubbing it affectionately. He always does when the subject arises, as if imagining the child is there, listening to him. “I’m gonna be a great dad,” he says quietly. Though it sounds like a statement, you can hear the question in his voice.

“I know you are,” you assure him, squeezing his hand against your stomach. “We’re going to learn together.

In the end, the crew decides to rework the schedule, moving Homelander’s scene to the next day. After all, he never did run those lines.