#microwaves writings

[millyphobic]

˙ . ꒷ 🫀 . 𖦹˙— HEART 2 HEART

✮ soft cuddles & kisses with sevika while on your period ✮

fem!reader x girlfriend!sevika ‪‪❤︎‬ nothing but pure fluff ❤︎ poorly proofread bcs im lazy (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

“Vika, I’m going to be honest. I think I’m going to die.” You groan and bury yourself deeper into Sevika’s side, one leg over her waist and your face squished against her chest. A sock-full of raw heated rice was held to your stomach as a makeshift heating pad, but it just wasn’t enough. 

Periods. Horrible things. As if you needed the monthly reminder that you weren’t pregnant. You were with a woman; periods were just useless and all the more annoying to you. The stupid bullshit heating pad gets pulled out from under your shirt and tossed onto the floor, earning a laugh from Sevika.

“You say this every month, silly girl. You’re fine.” 

“Okay, rude. Hold me tighter.”

Despite Sevika’s scoffs and eyerolls, you're happily smothered when she rolls on top of you. You asked to be held tighter, but this was just as nice, if not better. 

Feeling her lips brush against your cheek. Tossing your legs around her waist. Yeah, this is real good. You’re wrapping yourself around her frame like a cat as your arms find home at her neck. The scent of tobacco with citrusy shampoo wafting into your nose as you get a face full of her hair. It makes you laugh; anything Sevika does makes you giggle like an idiot, but that’s because she’s Sevika, and she’s perfect to you. “Mhm, this is what I needed,” you purred, returning her affection with a quick kiss to the top of her head. 

You swear you can hear the word spoiled leave her lips, but you let it slide, melting under her weight as she starts to smother you with attention. Firm pecks are pressed on every inch of exposed skin, from your forehead to your cheeks to your nose and even your eyelids. It makes you forget the dull ache in your lower abdomen, and okay, maybe your periods weren’t all that bad. At least you got to be smothered like this. 

“Oh, Vika…” you breathed, easing up even more into the mattress as her tongue laves at the skin of your neck. Short and quick, as if to tickle you, only for her to nip at where your pulse thrums under your skin. “Hey!” Alright, that didn’t hurt one bit, but it was funny to act dramatic.

And clearly she thought the same as she snickered at your faux complaint, nuzzling her nose against the area where she nipped you. And of course, the tip of her nose is cold because that woman always runs cold.

Which is why she absolutely could NEVER leave you because who would keep her warm? Exactly, she basically needs you. A woman like her needs a girl like yourself to occupy her lap and chatter her ears off and kiss her all over. Just as she does the same for you. 

Even now you feel her lips brush against the shell of your ear and squirm from the way her hot breath tickles you. More soft kisses are laid to the side of your head, and more giggles fill the room. “My silly, silly girl,” she muses, nudging her nose against yours. Breaths mingling and hearts beating in tandem; can you love a person any more than this? Those darling puppy eyes of hers and those scarred lips pulled in a little smirk. It’s like she’s trying to give you a heart attack. 

“Prettiest princess I’ve ever laid my eyes on. And that’s a fact.”

Oh my god. I’m so in love. 

There’s no shame in you when you squeal as Sevika captures your lips in a kiss, fingers digging more into her hair. It’s that type of kiss where you can’t stop smiling and laughing, and it’s more chaste than anything else. But it’s over quick, too quick. You don’t let her pull her away too far before you’re tugging her head down back to your mouth, reveling in the way her breath hitches in surprise. 

Now this is a proper kiss: slow and passionate but gentle. There’s desire, but it’s faint and lazy, something that’s for later in the night. And when you pull away for the second time, you’re smiling like a fool in love. Because you are. 

“You look like a puppy, girly.”

“Vika, you look like a puppy. A really cute one too.”

“Shush!” You’re promptly shut up when she butts her nose against your cheek, and you let her words slide, taking it as her bizarre sense of humor. Between her dad jokes and this, she would make quite the comedian. “But you forgot all about your period too, huh?”

Damn, she got me. I really did forget. 

[workplacecomedian]

Jmart safehouse setting where the first words to come from Martin since exiting the Lonely is "What the hell are you doing." And its in response to him blankly watching John try to quickly make them tea in the microwave- the humming noise breaking Martin's partial dissociative state, and scaring the shit out of John after all the silence (minus his own mutterings)

[bloominglegumes]

no ok i started spiraling into animated jazzwave ideas too its actually awful

[void-of-unparalled-chaos]

Slap a Bow on It

 "Contrary to popular belief, Danny wasn’t stupid. He could be a bit oblivious, but he always got there in the end. So when Danny woke up the next morning and realized that last night wasn’t a dream, he had an epiphany. He was being courted by the super hot and apparently undead crime lord who ran the haunt on the other side of the street."

@deadonmayn Day 1: Courting Rituals | Flickering | Dinner is interrupted by a rogue/gang fight | "Are they gone yet?"

TW: Danny is thirsty as hell, mentions/allusions to nsfw but nothing explicit

AO3 Link

   Danny blinked.

   He could only assume that the crime lord, illuminated purely by the light of the fridge in the otherwise dark apartment, blinked back. The helmet didn't give anything away, red plating and slanted eye whites impassive. Good for being sexy menacing. Not so good for reading emotions.

   Danny blinked again, wiping the rheum from his eyes with pinched fingers. He squinted once more at Red Hood, who for some reason was in his apartment at - Danny glanced at the clock - three in the morning. He seemed perfectly content to be digging through Danny’s fridge, if a little sheepish at being caught.

    He should probably be more angry that his apartment was broken into. He absolutely was when he first woke to the uncomfortable feeling of an uninvited guest in his lair, but after seeing the vigilante’s arms laden with food his metaphorical hackles relaxed. The apartment was shitty anyway. 

   If anything, Danny was confused as to why he was here judging his fridge’s contents and playing Tetris with tupperware. It wasn’t like they knew each other. 

   Danny blinked a third time just to really make sure he was seeing what he was seeing, "...Hi?" 

   "Hey,"  Red Hood unfroze, seemingly recovered from being caught, and resumed stuffing what looked like a container of tamales into his fridge. 

   Danny couldn’t help but feel sullen at the dismissal. He'd woken up only for the admittedly hot trespasser with thick thighs to barely glance at him. Unacceptable. 

   "Do you want anything to drink?"  Danny must have been momentarily possessed by the ghost of Midwestern manners with how urgent the offer seemed. 

   "Nah," Red Hood stuffed another container into the fridge, turning to look back at Danny, "You don't have any allergies, do you?"

   "Nah."

   Red Hood nodded, pulling out a bag of rotten lettuce. He held it away from himself like it might try to bite him. In Danny’s experience, it very well could. 

   “Do you ever clean out your fridge?”

   Danny shrugged, “It’s finals week. I’ve got to keep my GPA above 3.5 if I want to keep my scholarship. No chores. Only study.”

   Red Hood nodded solemnly as he threw the lettuce into the trash, “No chores. Only study.”

   They fell into silence. Danny watched as the crime lord sifted through his fridge, pulling out rotten food as he went. “Is this because I decked that mugger? Cause’ he deserved it.”

   Red Hood very pointedly threw the expired milk carton into the trash can.

   “Okay then…” Danny yawned, “Well if that's all I’m going back to bed.”

   “Kay.”

   Danny shrugged, turned on his heel, and left the crime lord to rifle through his kitchen.

___👻___

   When Danny awoke the next day, he was greeted by a clean apartment. The absence of crumbs on the freshly swept floor felt odd on his feet, although it was certainly much more pleasant. The trash had been taken out and a new bag had already been installed. He passed by the sink on the way to make coffee, the dishes that had been filling it suspiciously absent. 

   Danny would deny to the ancients and back that his knees went weak when he found the coffee maker already set and filled with grounds... his sister must never know. 

   As he waited for the cup to brew, he opened his fridge for creamer only to come face to face with more home cooked food than he’d ever seen in his life. Danny pulled the food out plastic container by plastic container to stare at in disbelief. Tamales, chicken mole, Mexican rice, enchiladas, and carne asada… It was only a handful of containers, but still. It wasn’t as if his parents had done much in the way of cooking with all their time spent in the lab. Jazz could throw together something basic but nothing like this.

   The local hot crime lord slash vigilante had broken in at three in the morning to feed him and clean his apartment. Huh.

  No time to think about that. He has a final on differential equations in five hours and minimal time to cram. Danny stirs the creamer into his coffee, heats up some Mexican rice, and sits down at the untouched mess of notebooks, paper, and textbooks on his kitchen table. 

   He studies until he has to leave for the exam, only getting up to refill his coffee and get more food. The tamales are pretty fricken good, but they make it hard to focus on the numbers scribbled across his notebook. It’s like each bite is urging him to go back into the kitchen and cook, which is odd considering that Danny can’t cook and he already has enough food to last him through the next day or two (courtesy of the sexy crime lord). 

   He leaves the exam room feeling good only for his mood to immediately crumble when he remembers that he has an aerodynamics final at eight the next morning followed by gasdynamics at one. He takes a brief break to faceplant on the table, scream, refill his coffee for the umpteenth time, and eat some more food but inevitably resigns himself to pulling an all-nighter. Time becomes liquid after that. It’s all just a blur of numbers and properties and instructional videos. 

   At some point, he registers another presence in the apartment. Danny recognizes the ecto signature from the night before so he pays it no mind. Let Hood poke around, Danny has to read more about Newton’s Third Law. What was he going to do? Feed him again?

   The answer was apparently yes. 

   The background noise of shuffling in the fridge and washing empty containers stops and is replaced by soft, mechanical-sounding breaths. Hood is standing next to him, plastic container in hand as he watches Danny run through the Quizlet on his laptop. 

   Danny’s got around eighty percent of the terms memorized. Just another twenty percent to go. He types in the answer for a new blank. 

   Red Hood pokes his shoulder.

   Danny grumbles. His response came back wrong.

   His shoulder is poked again.

   Danny ignores it and moves on to the next blank.

   He continues unbothered for an uncertain amount of time. The words on the screen are blurry like he is trying to read underwater. His mouth splits into an entirely too wide, jaw-cracking yawn. His uninvited guest coos at him as Danny rubs at his eyes. The next thing he knows, his laptop is shut closed and moved away. It feels like any and all visual processing is delayed. Danny stares blankly at the spot the computer used to sit.

   Something slides in front of him to replace the laptop. His core chirps when he realizes it's food. Hood’s answering chirp as he guides a fork into his hand is deep and rumbly with the faint stutterings of a purr. Danny starts to purr in return as he sleepily munches on the casserole.

    Before long the empty plate is taken away. Danny slumps down on the newfound table space and tries to fight off sleep. 

   “I think it's time for you to go to bed.”

   “Noooooo! I’v gotta study fr' aero’namics.”

   “You’re slurring your words there, handsome.”

   Danny’s sleep-deprived brain screeched to a halt. His core chirped to attention, “Flat’ry ain’t gettin’ you nowhere.”

   “It was worth a shot.”

    Danny smushed his face further into the wood to hide his blush and distracted himself by blindly reaching for his coffee mug. Upon noticing, the vigilante moved it out of reach. Danny whined into the table.

   “You can’t overwork yourself like this, Danny,” Red Hood carried the mug to the sink and poured it down the drain. Cruel, cruel man. “I know you’ve got exams but your scores won’t be any good if you go into them like this. You've got to take care of yourself,”  He lightly squeezed Danny’s shoulder. Danny hadn’t even heard him move across the kitchen. “Can you do that, darlin’? For me?”

    Danny groaned, “F’ne. But only cause’ ur hot.”

   The vigilante snorted. It sounded odd through the helmet but not bad. “I’m happy to hear it! Now let's get you to bed.”

___👻___

   Contrary to popular belief, Danny wasn’t stupid.

   He had been helping his parents in the lab since he was four, and he was nearly a straight-A student before the accident. He was an aerospace engineering major with a hefty GPA of 3.8, and most importantly, he’s had extensive lessons on ghosts, the Infinite Realms, and their culture. 

   He could be a bit oblivious, but he always got there in the end. 

   So when Danny woke up the next morning and realized that last night wasn’t a dream, he had an epiphany. The thought kept running through his head as he stared at the food in the fridge, the clean apartment, and the prepped coffee maker. 

   He was being courted. 

   He was being courted by the super hot and apparently undead crime lord who ran the haunt on the other side of the street. 

   Danny had never been courted before! 

   Sure, occasionally there was someone who tried to shoot their shot, but it always fell flat in the end. It was an unfortunate side effect of being undead. Every human relationship he had felt… lacking. Like it was missing something. 

   Val had come pretty close. All the fighting and shooting felt like a mimicry of ghostly courtship behavior. It's what had drawn Danny to her in the first place, but Val wasn’t fighting him in a display of power and capability. She had genuinely wanted to end him. 

   There was also the incident with Kitty, but she was overshadowing Paulina and mimicking human behaviors. There was never any ghostly courtship involved, and besides, she was only dating him to make Johnny jealous. 

   This is Danny’s first time being properly courted!

   What is he going to do about it?

   He decided that the question could wait until after finals.

   The next few days pass by much the same as before: a tortuous cycle of studying, caffeine, minimal sleep, screaming, and exams. Red Hood continues to stop by and deliver food. Danny has got to figure out the dude’s actual name or a nickname or something. He refuses to keep calling his potential partner Red Hood. When you take away the scary crime lord persona it just sounds like a condom brand. He could always use a pet name, but it feels wrong given that Danny hasn’t shown much reciprocation outside of allowing Hood into his lair. Instead, Danny settles on greeting him with a trill and a series of chirps. 

   As soon as he finishes his last final he flops face down into bed. Tomorrow he’ll get to work on reciprocating Red Hood’s efforts. His kitchen is blessedly clean of any ecto contamination. Without the food fighting back, he should be able to whip up something presentable. How hard could following a recipe be?

___👻___

   Danny was wrong.  

   Staring at the stove which was somehow on fire, Danny couldn’t help but finally understand why Jazz had never allowed him in the kitchen. He quickly rushes to turn off the heat. Danny doesn’t have a fire extinguisher. He’s a broke college student with just enough money to live on the outskirts of Crime Alley. Why would he ever be able to afford a fire extinguisher? 

   Danny slams a lid over the pot to smother the flames erupting from it and wacks the stovetop with a damp towel. As the fire dies down he glares at the somehow burnt gnocchi sitting ever so innocently in boiling water. He probably could have just iced it. The ice would melt into water and put out the fire, right? 

   He takes another look at the ruined food as the bubbles die down and decides he’s probably just cursed. Not all hope is lost though, Danny reasons as he dumps the ruined gnocchi down the garbage disposal. So Italian cuisine was not his forte. That’s okay! He’ll just try a different recipe!

___👻___

   The recipe said quick and easy. 

   This was neither quick nor easy.

   He dumped the carbonized remains of food into the trash with a sigh. It was French toast! How could someone go so wrong with French toast? The kitchen looked like something had exploded in it for ancients’ sake! 

   Danny thunked his head onto the counter, uncaring of the milk and eggs coating it. An entire loaf of bread gone and not a single edible piece of toast to show for it! He groaned. Maybe he just… wasn’t cut out for this whole courting thing. 

   Dejectedly, he lifted his head and began to wipe down the counter with paper towels. He really liked Hood.

   He was funny! While he mostly left Danny alone during his study sessions, Danny had seen the viral videos. Hood knew how to crack a good death joke, and the compilations of him ragging on Batman were something to aspire to. 

   He cared for people! The sponsored soup kitchens and homeless programs were an open secret in Crime Alley, and the working girls were paid well. The street kids knew they were safe in the Alley because anyone who tried to touch them would end up with their head in a duffle bag. Red Hood protected them.

   And ancients was he hot! Thick thighs for days and strong arms that could probably lift Danny like a couple of grapes. Danny wouldn’t mind being thrown around by a guy like that. He would happily let him pin him to a wall and box him in and then Danny could sink his fangs into his shoulder and then- 

   Okay! Stop! Too far! That’s awfully ambitious for someone who can’t even cook a proper courting gift. Think, Danny, Think! 

  Okay… okay. So he can’t cook. That’s fine because Danny can build. He’s been building things since he was practically a toddler. He can make something easy peasy!

   What about a gun? Red Hood seemed to like guns. Danny’s core purred at the idea. If he had to guess, the vigilante had a protection obsession of some sort. A gun was something that could protect Red Hood but also be used to protect others in his haunt and directly feed into his obsession. Yes! The gun idea was good.

   But then again, Hood had been working with Batman more and more frequently, and with that had been using guns less and less. How often could the gun be used? No, no. This courting gift should be usable in all scenarios. 

   What about a knife? Yes! A knife could work! As far as Danny knew, Batman didn't have anything against knives. Surely a knife paled in comparison to Robin's katana. A knife was sneaky and quiet, good for stealth missions unlike a gun, and easier to carry for everyday use. 

   Danny hummed, nodding to himself. He’d do the knife first and save the gun for later. He was going to need supplies. 

   Danny wiped the dripping egg away from his forehead before it could get into his eyes. But first, he was going to need a shower.

___👻___

   So…

   It could’ve gone worse.

   Despite basically being raised reverse-engineering his parents’ inventions, Danny had never tried to make a knife. He could gut a microwave from the local back alley dumpster and Macgyver it into a functioning weapon, but building a makeshift forge on short notice and hammering steel down into a smooth curve was a whole different ballpark. Luckily the local trade school had a forge, and after some good old-fashioned bribery, they allowed Danny access. That was the first problem out of the way. Unfortunately, the second problem remained. It was fine. Danny was used to thinking on his feet. 

  After many YouTube videos and failed attempts Danny had a somewhat presentable blade. With a saw edge on the top and a sharp curve similar to a khukuri on the bottom, it certainly didn’t look like a beginner's design.

   He probably shouldn’t have skipped straight to a more advanced shape. Danny hadn’t managed to fix the slight warp of the blade, and maybe the practice beforehand would have done him some good. Regardless, it was too late to fix it after the ecto wash, and he didn’t think the warp would affect the performance too negatively. Besides, with the ectoplasm infused into it the knife should cut through ghosts with no problem. 

  Danny had spent entirely too long trying to find the perfect shade of red leather for the handle, but in the end, he accurately matched it to Red Hood’s helmet. He had wanted to incorporate some protective runes into the leather, but he had no idea how to make a lasting pattern that wouldn’t affect the user’s comfort. Eventually, he decided it was an idea to be saved for another project. 

   With his courting gift complete, all that was left to do was break into Red Hood’s lair and give it to him…

   That sounded wrong. Give the knife to him. It’s not an innuendo! Great. Now he’s thinking about those thick thighs again. Stop! Bad Danny!

   He shook himself to dispel the train of thought. Danny had a different, more pressing problem to deal with: How could he present a knife to a vigilante without it coming across as a threat? He didn’t have a box for it, and the knife didn’t have a sheath yet. He could always make himself the box and store it in his chest, but watching someone pull random items out of their body was apparently gross and disturbing, or so he’d been told. What if he just-

   Danny yanked open the kitchen junk drawer and began to root around. After a few seconds of sifting, he pulled out his prize and ever so gently stuck it to the knife. The green gift bow was squished on one end but remained comically large on the blade. He bounced up and down on his toes. It was so stupid that it just might work. 

   Feeling the cool rush of invisibility, Danny phased through the wall of his apartment to greet the early morning light beginning to peak over the buildings. Floating in the air for a minute, he absently fiddled with the bow on his courting gift. With the city starting to wake, Hood should be returning to his lair. 

   It didn’t take long for him to fly past the unseen territory lines and into Crime Alley. Danny had crossed through Hood’s haunt before. It had never felt aggressive like some in the Ghost Zone. Red Hood's haunt was more curious, probing with a warning to behave himself. The haunt felt different this time around. Now it felt welcoming rather than wary, warm. If Danny closed his eyes, he could almost imagine being held in a protective embrace. His core hummed in response, seeking out the other’s resonance. 

   Danny had never been to Hood’s lair. He hadn’t even been given directions, but he didn’t need them. He'd simply follow Hood’s ecto signature to where the haunt’s energy was most concentrated. Like the dead equivalent of a bloodhound. 

   Danny took his time meandering toward the heart of the haunt. He’d never been this far into Crime Alley before, and he didn’t want to get turned around. That was a lie. Danny was nervous and stalling. Doubts flew unbridled through his head.

   What if the knife wasn’t good enough? What if the bow didn’t work? What if Red Hood thought he was threatening him? What if Danny blew his shot? Danny had already screwed up so many other things in his life, he didn’t want to screw this up too!

   There was only so long he could stall. Jittery with nerves, Danny floated outside a decrepit apartment building. The entire structure was practically drenched in Red Hood’s ecto signature, but it radiated in waves from a unit on the top floor. Danny took a breath to steady his racing heart and struggled to quiet his core. It was now or never. 

   He cautiously phased halfway through the wall, chirping in greeting. The apartment was clean and orderly. The fireplace and full bookshelves gave it a homey feel that sharply contrasted with the worn and weathered bricks on the outer wall. The lack of weapons was a surprise. Even if he couldn't see them Danny figured they were still there, well hidden in the otherwise normal apartment. 

   A surprised sound draws his attention to the man on the couch. He’s built like a quarterback, lounging on one side as he struggles to stitch a laceration across his ribcage with a needle in one hand and a handheld mirror in the other. It's hard not to get distracted by the autopsy scar running cleanly across his collarbone and down to his pelvis. Danny wants to lick it.

   Piercing blue eyes search the apartment, arm lowering the mirror. Danny is thankful that he's still invisible. With the heat flooding to his ears, he’s sure he’s as red as a tomato. Danny’s practically drooling at tousled black and white hair and the long scar reaching up from under his jaw to his hairline like a flower stretching for the sun. His crooked nose, clearly broken and healed many times over, only adds to his beauty. Red Hood is truly a modern-day Adonis.

    Hood’s wounded side finally registers in Danny’s brain, rearranging his priorities and catapulting his obsession to the front. Immediately he lets his invisibility drop, absently shoving the knife into his chest for safekeeping. Hood makes a distressed sound as he does so which urges Danny forward. His hands hover worriedly over the man as he pushes as much help/comfort/safety/concern into his aura as possible. 

   He reaches to take the threaded needle from Red Hood’s hand only to be nudged away.

   “It’s fine. I can do it myself.”

   "Hood, let me help."

   "Jason,” he licks his lips, “My name is Jason."

   "Jason," Danny gently cups Jason’s face in his hands, "Please let me help, Jason."

   Blue eyes gaze into his own. The ever-so-faint hints of green within them are captivating, swirling in a hypnotic dance that leaves Danny in a daze. Finally, Jason looks away and nods, breaking the trance between them and passing the needle over.

   Danny allows himself to revert to the mindset of his vigilante days. He stitches the wound with a single-minded focus, practiced hands falling back into a familiar rhythm. Jason watches the entire time, staring intently at his face as he works. Danny struggles to keep his core quiet and pretends not to notice, taping a bandage over the cut. His fingers graze over Jason's body, checking it over for any other injuries. Jason allows it to happen with a distinct feeling of affection/amusement. 

   “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

   “Nah. The kevlar usually prevents stuff like this. I was just unlucky.”

   “Good.” 

   Danny runs his fingers through the white tuft in Jason’s hair, pushing the strands out of his face. His core kickstarts like an engine with a vengeance, humming and searching for Jason’s core song in anticipation. Danny squeaks, stumbling backward. He smothers the sound and quiets his core, but with the look on Jason’s face, he hadn’t been quick enough.

   “Sorry!” Danny stutters out, flushing. 

    Jason’s expression shifts to confusion, “Why are you apologizing?”

   “I’m being way too forward,” Danny drags his hands down his face in embarrassment, “We haven’t had a spar yet and fuck! I haven’t even given you your courting gift yet, but here I am! Invading your space and trying to harmonize! I’m so sorry.”

    “Lucky for you I like forward,” Jason gently grasped his hands, lowering them away from his face. His palms felt warm against Danny’s skin, “Is that what you shoved into your chest earlier? A courting gift?” Jason punctuated the sentence with a gentle kiss to Danny's slow pulse.

   Danny nodded, stunned. Tearing his gaze away from Jason’s lips, he reached into his chest and pulled out the knife. Jason chuckles, his eyes crinkling in mirth, “You put a bow on it?”

   Danny grinned, his fangs on full display, “Well I had to make it presentable, didn’t I?” 

   He gets down on one knee, head bowed and knife held upwards in offering as if he were a knight presenting a sword to a king. Jason gingerly lifts it out of his hands, cradling it like a precious gem. Danny watches as his fingers trace the edge. 

   “It feels like you,” Jason looks to Danny for answers, eyes wide with wonder and a beautiful flush on his face.

   “I wanted to make sure it was effective against ghosts, but it's hard to find enough clean ectoplasm around here. I sorta just… used my own?” Danny rubs the back of his neck with a wince, “Do you like it?”

   He waits in anxious anticipation as Jason stands from the couch. Jason sets the blade gently down on the coffee table behind Danny before tugging him into his arms, “I love it, baby,” his words vibrate over a purr that Danny can feel in his bones, “Just don’t go hurting yourself for courting gifts anymore.”

   Danny groaned, tucking his face under Jason’s chin. “You have no idea how much that narrows my options down.” 

   Jason laughs. 

   Danny pulls away to look up at him, lightly batting at Jason’s peck “I’m serious, Jason! I can’t cook for shit! You’re gonna need to wait a long ass time until I can get my hands on more ecto. I hope you’re ready to wait because it’s going to take me months to build that gun now!”

   “You wanted to make me a gun?” 

   “Yeah? I was going to have one ready in the next few weeks but-”

   Jason’s smile is dazzling as he leans down to press his lips to Danny’s. Danny forgets to breathe as he melts into the kiss. He’s tugged forward until they are chest-to-chest on the couch, cores close together. Danny’s not sure whose core starts to hum first, but the sound is unmistakable as they waver between pitches. Danny bites at Jason’s lips, making a pleased sound when they part for him.

   It’s weird to be doing this before a spar. It’s backward, unconventional. Danny can’t find it in himself to care.

   It’s a wondrous thing when their cores synchronize. Something finally clicks, like a lock snapping into place, and suddenly Danny can feel so much. The humming harmony of their cores permeates every single one of Danny’s nerves. The rush of giddy happiness is unlike anything he’s felt before. He can feel Jason, too. The rampant emotions fling between them until it's hard to tell whose is whose. In Jason’s arms with a core bond in place, Danny has never felt so secure in his life. 

   This. This is what he's been missing. 

   Danny breaks away from their kiss to nip at Jason’s jawline, paying special attention to the scar. Jason makes a pleased sound, tugging lightly at his hair.

   “Your teeth are sharp as fuck.”

   “Aren’t yours?”

   Jason nuzzles under Danny’s shirt collar and into his shoulder. Danny shudders as he feels canines dig into his skin. They’re sharp, but not as sharp as his. 

   Danny giggles, pressing a kiss to Jason’s hair. “I want to see how skilled you actually are with those teeth. Once you’ve healed we can have a proper spar.”

   “I’ll show you a proper spar,” Jason grumbles. 

  Suddenly Danny is pinned, lying on the couch with Jason’s weight on top of him. Jason kisses his cheek, tucking his head back into the crook of his neck with a contented sigh. It's like the world's best weighted blanket, Danny thinks as his eyes droop shut in relaxation.

   They remain like that in silence, basking in the positive emotions and comfort of their new bond. It’s about ten minutes later that Danny finally breaks it.

   “Why me?”

   “Hmm?”

   “Just… why court me? I know I pass through your haunt now and then but we’ve only actually seen each other like… once. What could I have possibly done to catch your attention?”

   “You punched a mugger.”

   “Yeah… so?”

   “You knocked the fucker out in one blow before I could even lift a finger.”

   “And?”

   Jason lifted his head to give him a pointed look.

   Danny stared back.

   Oh…

   Oh!

   “Do you have a competency kink!?”

   Jason flushed, ducking his head back down with a groan. 

[the-meme-monarch]

I’m a big proporter of “k_k isn’t stupid he just likes to act like it bc he thinks it funny to make people mad or confused”. and other such doodles of him

if you ship scc go away👍

references for the last one under the cut

[martybaker]

There was only one couch

Tfw you cannot find the jayvik fic you crave so you write it yourself 🙃

I also gotta preface this with - I cannot write science talk for the life of me, in my defense they are sleep deprived so if it doesn’t make much sense, it’s not supposed to 🙈

—————————

They’ve been stuck at this problem for hours, any potential paths they managed to come up with immediately shattering after but a couple pokes of logic aimed to test the solidity of their foundations. Like bubbles popped by a child’s finger. Like heated corn kernels. Like dreams of making a difference-

Viktor’s too tired to think in metaphors.

He drops the pencil and swivels in his chair, facing Jayce who’s already draped across their shabby sofa, long legs sticking out from one end, head inclined on the armrest on the side closer to Viktor.

“What if we…build an oven?” Jayce says. “Well not like, an oven, but reverse, a device that could contain the energy and…,” he waves his hands in the air as he talks, as if that would help illustrate his train of thought, “…uhhh, we could more safely work on directing the charges? Fuck, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.”

Viktor chuckles. He doesn’t know why he does, it’s not even particularly funny, the exhaustion must have erased any common sense of his that was left. Yet it’s…comforting to see that same exhaustion mirrored in Jayce. The same dark circles, the same bone deep tiredness weighing him down, the same look of frustration after they’ve been hitting dead ends and running in circles. It’s a shared exhaustion, just like the hard work is shared. Probably should have called it a night hours ago. They both direly need the rest.

“An oven? That would be your hunger speaking, I’m afraid,” Viktor says, reaching for his cane, grinding his teeth to gather the energy to push himself up onto his feet.

“Nah, m’not hungry,” Jayce mumbles. “We had those sandwiches for lunch. Or was it dinner? What time is it even?”

“Too late by all accounts,” Viktor says, taking the few steps towards the couch. He looks at Jayce, who seems glued to the couch and likely is planning to spend the night there. Viktor looks towards the door, but hesitates. The idea of the track across campus to his lodgings really doesn’t sound appealing.

It’s not even that far, the university tried to accommodate Viktor’s needs as best as they could and gave him a room on the ground floor, plus the building is the closest housing to the Engineering department’s laboratories. And yet, today it feels miles away. Damn his leg, damn all the stairs, and damn his hubris for yet again pushing his body beyond its limits, knowing fully well it will backfire ten folds and render him even more useless in the morning.

Jayce notices his hesitation, damn his partner’s bright mind too. He can read Viktor too well, he guesses the reason for his histation despite Viktor’s lack of complaining.

“Oh, do you wanna sleep here? I’ll head home, no problem,” he suggests way too readily, already hoisting himself up onto his elbows.

Viktor tsks and pushes against Jayce’s chest, pushing him back down into the couch.

“Stay,” he hisses. Jayce lives off campus, it would take him much longer to get home. Viktor’s not about to kick him out. And he doesn’t care for compassion either.

Jayce knows this, yet the man cannot help but be kind and caring, and though it irritates Viktor when it's aimed at him, it is also a quality of Jayce’s that he admires. He’s kind to everyone. Meets everyone halfway. Though at times they push too far, and Jayce lets them. Too kind for his own good.

Viktor shakes his head, trying to clean it, the stacked up piles of thoughts seem to have all spilled inside his brain and are rattling around. Rest. He needs to rest.

He looks at Jayce, who is still lying down on the couch, hands raised as if in surrender, big doe eyes staring at Viktor. Was Viktor too cross with him just now? He’s unable to determine. He pats Jayce’s knee in an attempt to smooth over his own prickly temperament.

“I just…I need to take a moment. Before I head out,” he tries. He hopes Jayce won’t insist. He is too tired to come up with reasonable arguments. He doesn’t wanna fight.

But Jayce doesn’t fight, he nods, then he bites his lip and opens his arms.

Hmm.

Viktor considers.

The couch is clearly too small for one grown man, let alone two.

Still it would be more comfortable than the chair.

And Viktor’s not averse to touch. Despite perhaps coming off as such. To everyone, except for Jayce.

It is true that he doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, especially unexpectedly. But he is human and just like anyone else, he has moments when he would welcome touch. Moments when he finds it comforting. And Jayce is a very tactile person. He didn’t hold back from putting a hand on Viktor’s shoulder the very first day they met, and he hasn’t stopped since. Though there was a moment near the beginning of their partnership when someone pointed out Viktor’s (alleged) aversion to touch and Jayce panicked, apologizing profusely for making him uncomfortable, and it took days for Viktor to convince him he really didn’t mind. Because that was the truth, Viktor didn’t mind. Not when it was Jayce.

Of course cuddling on the couch was an entirely different matter.

They’ve never done that before, however, Viktor wasn’t a stranger to the comfort of a warm body next to his either.

From cuddling with his parents for warmth as a kid in one too small bed, to seeking the pleasures of a lover to relieve stress, the warmth of a body next to his undoubtedly had its benefits.

And he and Jayce are friends. It wouldn’t be a big deal.

And so Viktor slowly drops his cane to the floor and lowers one of his knees to the couch, trying to figure out how to arrange himself next to Jayce.

Jayce tries to help but it takes some maneuvering, what with Viktor’s leg and their sleep deprived brains, there are a couple of winces and pointy elbows and just way too many limbs, an “Oof” from Jayce when he earns a knee to his stomach, but eventually Viktor finds himself situated with his back against the back of the couch, his head on Jayce’s chest, right leg on top.

It’s…it’s warm.

It’s nice.

It’s not a big deal.

“Okay?” Jayce checks.

Viktor hums. He can hear Jayce’s heartbeat, feel his breath on his forehead. Smell the musk, the odor of an unshowered body, but he has no right to complain, they both haven’t showered for however many hours or days they’ve been locked in here.

Jayce’s heartbeat and breathing slows, but Viktor cannot slow his racing thoughts. He can feel every point of contact where their bodies are touching. He can feel Jayce’s muscular chest moving under his hand. Jayce’s right hand briefly pets Viktor’s hair before it settles on top of his shoulders. Viktor fights against the urge to burrow closer, to inhale Jayce’s smell, to place Jayce’s hand back into his hair.

Stupid sleep deprived brain. Viktor could have figured such close proximity to a warm body would reduce him to animal instincts. He can only be glad he’s way too sleepy for his nether parts to react as well.

Jayce feels his restlessness. How could he not, pressed so close.

“Viktor,” he whispers, warm breath tickling Viktor’s forehead and despite himself Viktor exhales and melts against that strong chest even more. “You can rest, V, I’ll wake you in a couple of minutes and walk you home.”

My ass you will, Viktor thinks, we’re both gonna fall asleep here, your right side will be completely numb and my back will be killing me tomorrow. He’ll barely be able to stand. But he’s too tired and too comfortable to say any of that now. It’s a Tomorrow Viktor’s problem anyways. This Viktor burrows closer against Jayce’s chest, letting all his worries and all the problems fade, falling into the sweet embrace of sleep.

[evil-sometimes]

I am completely obsessed with a crown of candy. like caramelinda and lazuli were IN LOVE. imagine you're caramelinda. you are married to the love of your life. and she dies. your country is unstable, you need to remarry, politically. you have to remarry to her baby brother who up until now has just been a reckless prince getting up to stupid shit in the war. and now he's your husband. and now he's king. you have two daughters with him. he is a useless ruler, so you manage everything. you try to keep your family safe. your daughters grow up and take after their father. they take after lazuli. they are reckless. they just want to fight things, and you feel like their jailer, trying to impose rules, trying to keep them safe. you love them and would break apart if anything happened to them. you miss your wife. you have been married to your husband for 20 years now. he has been by your side longer than you even knew your wife. you deserved her, not him. it is impossible not to love him. but never like you loved her. he is still an irresponsible reckless warrior. he is a coward. he is your partner in life. you have children and a kingdom together. one of your daughters dies. she dies sneaking away after you told her to go to bed. you are queen. you are supposed to be able to protect her. you had ordered people to follow her and keep her safe. she still died. you want to blame her. you want to blame everyone. you want to blame yourself, you tried so hard to keep her safe. you cry in your husbands arms. you find out your wife kept secrets from you. you have to leave your home. your family is in danger. your family is protecting itself. you feel like dead weight. you miss your wife.

[sharpace]

So, I read this fan theory that said that Viktor and Jayce got sent to a different dimension like how Ekko got sent to an alternate timeline so now I'm struck with the uncontrollable desire to see Viktor and Jayce meet their Crank It counterparts and reacting to each other. I absolutely need to see it!

Weird that’s e restaurant serves newts but okay.

Hahah but seriously, this ask is so juicy and has so much meat on the bone, my brain exploded and went blank and I had to recruit @kavaleyre to sort my thoughts and think of a doodle to pair it.

I think it would be SO complicated. Especially, if we’re looking at finale jayvik and main comic Crank It pairing. On one hand, they’ve found each other even in the most ordinary universe and shown their love early. However, they aren’t leaving a legacy or creating a new science. They’re just two ordinary workers who stream playing games. I think there’s some complicated feelings in that they can find the most love and joy in foregoing their dreams and legacy.

[adorablegorilla]

Sorawo Fang Appreciation Post

(Image Description: Various panels from the Otherside Picnic manga showing the main character Sorawo Kamikoshi. In all of them a single pointy tooth is visible poking out of the top of her open mouth)

[ilikemicrowaves]

LOYAL STARFLIGHT AU

Notes: LOYAL Starflight au is were Starflight decides to help the nightwings take the Rainforest instead of Glory.

Summary: starflight meets his father and finds out why Fatespeaker claims to be the wings of night

Plans

Starflight followed his father to the other side of the lab as he struggled to turn the circular handle to what seemed to be a vault door.

"Our understanding of this biological anomaly is so new that we haven't even put it in any scrolls." He said in a fascinated voice.

Fatespeaker bumped into Starflight since Morrowseer's massive body took up a large amount of room.

"It turns out one tribe of dragon has evolved an unusual defense mechanism." He continued finally opening the door as they filled in.

Inside, the floor was covered in what Starflight first thought was splattered black paint, but recognized it as venom.

"You'll never guess which one!" Mastermind said.

"Rainwings." Starflight answered.

The delight on Masterminds face brightened. "Yes! They shoot venom out if their fangs."

He walked over to the middle of the room, spreading one wing to gesture at the venom marks.

"One of our first questions, naturally, was how far can they shoot? What's a safe distance to attack them from?" He put on a show by making dramatic hand movements, something Clay would laugh at Starflight for doing the same.

We truly are alike, not just interests.

Helmet in hand, Mastermind circled the black trail marking as Starflight and Fatespeaker followed.

"This is as far I've ever seen a dragon shoot. An older male, suggesting the skill gets stronger as they age." Mastermind theorized.

"Actually, they have training sections. Though the teachers in the Rainforest aren't the best as of what I've seen." Correct Starflight.

"Interesting, I'll have to write that down. Very observant, son. Oh I just love saying that word, now that it has a purpose!"

Starflight felt pride in his stomach, maybe his father wasn't like his other friend's parents after all.

As Mastermind wrote, he continued about his research on these unfortunate rainwings.

"The next question, of course, was what doesn't react to venom?" After writing the side note and crossing out some previous ones, he lead them to a table with two trays of different material.

"What could we use for protection? Metal, for one thing."

He knocked onto the Helmet he sat on the table.

"But anything biological, it destroys." He lifted his talon to show the rotten lizard and fish, as well with withering plants.

Fatespeaker commented her opinion with an "eww.."

Mastermind, leaning over the trays and collecting himself and the Helmet, continued. "If it gets in your eye or blood stream, you are most likely to die, instantly."

Maybe that's what happened to queen Scarlet

"If it hits your scales, you'll wish you where."

Starflight touched his head, thinking about the melting faces of Scarlet and Crocodile.

"I've seen it kill two dragons so far." He revealed.

Mastermind lifted his head before readjusting his glasses.

"Two, really? How surprisingly careless. We haven't picked up any rainwings with that little control yet."

"They weren't careless it was on purpose."

Mastermind smiled, "Purpose? That changes things entirely! I want to know everything! How long did death take? What provoked the attack?"

Excitingly, Mastermind unhooked a key off a key holder.

"I've never seen rainwings attack other dragons." Commented Fatespeaker.

"Even a rainwing will defend themselves from time to time." Educated Starflight.

"In my experience, not often." Mastermind equipped his helmet, unlocking the door Starflight hadn't noticed before.

"But why don't you stand back just in case."

Upon unlocking the door, they entered what seemed to be a torture room. A Rainwing, a somber gray, the most miserable color he thought he could see a rainwing be, hung by chains on a ceiling.

Below them was a drain.

That'll be useful if I need to escape, if it leads to anywhere anyway.

"What are you doing to her!?" Gasped Fatespeaker in fear.

"We where testing wether or not they run out of venom. Unfortunately she passed out before we could gather any useful data."

Fatespeaker ran over to the cauldron filled with water and struggled to carry its heavy weight over to the rainwing.

"What are you doing?" Mastermind asked.

"Giving her water!" She snapped.

That is a good idea. If she's dehydrated she's more likely to faint.

Starflight walked over to them and could hear the weak gulps as the rainwing began to drank.

"Who are you?" He asked.

Taking a breath, the rainwing spoke. "Orchid...no nightwing has ever asked me that." She managed.

Starflight recognized that name. "Oh, Mangrove's been looking for you." He said.

"Than I won't give up on living just yet."

She let her head head hang again as her scales shifted to a beautiful pink.

"Incredible! What did you say to make her do that? I've never seen it before!" Mastermind observed.

Wow, he really doesn't know.

"She's thankful for the water." Interjected Fatespeaker.

"Fascinating! Utterly fascinating!"

He swooped around and stuck his head out of the room.

"Strongwings! This one is ready to go back! And Strongwings, guess what! I have a brilliant son!"

A bulky dragon larger than him walked in padded with armor that looked like a skywings.

"Yeah whatever, when will I get one of these fancy looking helmets?"

Mastermind yanked it away as Strongwings tried to touch it.

"This is just a prototype."

While Strongwings started to unclick the locks around Orchid Mastermind stopped Starflight before he could walk any further.

"As one can imagine, the hardest part about making venom-proof armor is making it possible to see!" He lifted the helmet into his face.

"I'd be interested in your thoughts."

Starflight blinked a few times.

"Firstly, I'd like to discuss how you treat the rainwings." He said. "Why are we studying them? Why do we need to protect ourselves?"

Mastermind lead him and Fatespeaker out of the room.

"Queens orders." He simply said. "Right now that information is restricted from you, I wish I could tell right now but Morrowseer and the Queen forbids it."

He looked him dead in the eyes. "Surely as my son you understand that, right?"

Still just meeting his father he didn't want to disappoint him, he's his only family after all.

"I understand, until I earn her majesty's trust, I won't bother you about it."

Mastermind smiled, "thank you," leaving the room he lead them out to a bridge the clutched to the side of the mountain.

"I must attend my daily meeting with the queen, I hope to catch up with you soon!"

Mastermind hugged Starflight, making him feel very affectionate compared to his other friend's parents.

"Goodbye, dad." He said with a wave as Mastermind disappeared into a different room.

"Wow." Fatespeaker said. "So, turns out we are terrible dragons." She said.

"I still don't understand why we are kidnapping rainwings..." He said.

"Neither do I! And did you see how bad she looked?" Fatespeaker was circling around the ledge now.

She stopped infront of Starflight. "And how did you know her? I thought nightwings didn't leave this place?"

"I'm not from here, I was raised by the Talons of peace."

Fatespeaker giggled. "Liar, I've never seen you in camp."

Starflight lifted his head towards her "I'm not, we were born under a mountain, I am the dragonet from the prophecy."

Fatespeaker had doubt written all over her. "I am! Morrowseer says I'm special, I was born on the brightest night!"

"False, neither of you are in the prophecy yet." Said a booming from above.

Morrowseer landed with a loud thud.

"Only one of you will be in the prophecy. That's why your here. Thankfully we didn't have to put up a fight getting Starflight here."

"Don't you know? You delivered the prophecy."

Tossing his head in a frustrated manner he said, "Prophecies, are complex."

Fatespeaker grinned and turned to Starflight to whisper, "Thats a good comeback. I should write that down."

Jabbing his claw in their direction, Morrowseer continued to explain.

"The real problem is neither of you are suitable. You are both weak and too sympathetic. We made an error letting you be raised without a nightwing at watch." He said with grimace in his voice.

"Why aren't I suitable?" Asked Fatespeaker.

"You act like a hatchling! And you!" Pushing Starflight back a little he yelled.

"You've antagonized our ally!"

"Hey, that's not my fault!" Starflight protested. "My friends did! I tried to convince them but they wouldn't listen."

"You have no leader ship at all! Maybe if you were a true nightwing things would be different." He said. "But now you've placed our whole in jeopardy."

Starflight pushed back the large talon infront of him. "If you told me the plan maybe I could have helped! I can't when I don't even know what it is!"

Morrowseer lashed his tail and huffed.

"We cannot trust either of you with the nightwing secrets. Not until you are proven loyal."

Starflight puffed a plum of smoke.

"I am loyal! Why do you think I abandoned my friends in the first place?"

Morrowseer considered it for a moment, then alofted himself into the smokey sky.

"Queens orders, follow me."

Doing what they were told they followed after Morrowseer. Starflight could feel ashes hit his face and shoulders flying through the thick smoke.

Swooping up to Fatespeaker he asked, "any visions about their plan?"

Carelessly she said, "nope!" And flew faster ahead of Morrowseer.

Starflight continued to fly while the wind wrapped around his body.

Mmh, He thought, odd. But I need to figure out their plan. Why are they kidnapping and studying rainwings? Especially their venom. Maybe they're using that research to understand what's happening to us, with the prey and our poisonous bite.

Have I ever done that? He continued to think. I do recall biting Kestrel in training once, and her wrist swelled a little. I thought it was because it got infected from an open wound.

"I guess not..." He said to himself.

But why bother to understand that during times like this?

They also are looking for ways to protect themselves from the venom, but rainwings are pacifists. Maybe if I told them that they would put an end to this research.

"Wake up dreamy face!" Fatespeaker snapped him out of his thoughts. "Morrowseer says you need to meet the others, in case you're the dragonet for the prophecy."

Oh no, there's others?

_______________________

Notes: Thank you for reading this :) it'd be really appreciated if you reblog this so other can see my work!

[veryintricaterituals]

something about how louis and lestat are written for the girls and the gays but Armand, and especially his dynamic with daniel is for the lesbians. something about desperation, something about seeking to submit but being too afraid to give up control. something about dates that go on for days, weeks, months, years. something about obsession that turns into fascination, that turns into love. Idk imma go reread the Devil's Minion chapter

[twifairy]

Absolutely fascinated by the personal connections Seishiro Jigoku has to the main TGAA cast like its actively insane

But Jigoku is someone Susato knows by name, and someone who is seemingly comfortable with her. Yujin was worried Susato might be recognized by Jigoku when even Rei couldn't recognize her immediately.

Jigoku is a family friend of Susato and Kazuma's. Like. That's the text. Do we get how close Jigoku and Yujin are? Not really specifically.

And then Kazuma. Yujin takes Kazuma in and Jigoku is close enough with Yujin that when Kazuma gets sent the letter about the Professor, he feels like the right answer is to go ask Judge Jigoku. Because if Yujin is too kind to tell him the truth, Judge Jigoku will do it.

But also Jigoku and Yujin's relationship.

Jigoku knew Yujin before the study tour. He was so worried about Yujin's well being when he was grieving Ayame that he dragged him along for the study tour (something he was already signed up to do, but was likely considering quitting, is how I read that)

I don't think saying Jigoku and Genshin were less close by the end of the study tour (if they were ever close at ALL) is a stretch. Genshin deliberately tells Yujin not to bring Jigoku when going to help Lady Baskerville, or to even mention it to him.

Yujin knows the identity of Klint van Zieks' daughter. Jigoku knows who killed Genshin Asogi. They both keep those secrets from each other for 10 years, on top of over 16 years of very close friendship.

That is a man who has had dinner at the Mikotoba family home many times. That is someone Yujin trusts with his children. We never see Yujin throw someone the way Susato does— Jigoku does it. The person handling most of the logistics of Kazuma's study tour is not Yujin, it is Jigoku.

Jigoku has been a family friend for a decade. It's possible Susato has known him all her life.

And with the knowledge that he killed Genshin Asogi, and that Yujin Mikotoba trusts him with his children, Seishiro Jigoku chooses to look at Kazuma and say "You seem like you would do anything to find out what happened to your father. Would you kill for it?"

He does not stop Kazuma from going. He does everything in his power to send Genshin's boy across the sea to kill for him, dangling the promise of answers in front of him, knowing damn well he is the one responsible for everything wrong in Kazuma's life.

[clacy2812]

If you ask me this, buckle up.I will be giving you a presentation of my ocs for the next 4 hours.

[pinkbirddiaries]

Logan: What do you do when your French fries get cold?

Tyler: I just eat them

Ashlyn: I throw them away

Aiden: I microwave them

Ben (in ASL): I’m not related to him

Taylor: My French fries don’t get cold… I just eat them first

[jadewritesficshere]

Eddie x fem!reader (reader wears lingerie, no other descriptions of reader given except mentioning hitting that spot just right)

Contents: lingerie, both are a lil pervy tbh, humiliation, crying, praise kink, sub!Eddie, this is literally just horny ramblings

18+ only

It wasn't every day you came back to your house and your best friend had broken in. Maybe, every other week at best.

Usually, Eddie would be high eating your snacks (you were thinking about getting a lock for the cabinets). Or he would be watching whatever show you recorded and tease you about spoiling it (you threatened to use the VHS to beat him over the head and strangle him with the VHS ribbon if he did).

But, you had no clue Eddie was even in your house today. His van wasn't parked in your driveway when you came home. His shoes weren't in a haphazard pile at the front door. You had 0 clue he was there.

Not until you heard a thump coming from your bedroom. Which, your first thought went to the knickknacks you had that someone could be stealing (they wouldn't cause to a normal person it was junk but to you they were memories).

You grabbed a knife from the kitchen (you weren't gonna die without a fight, besides you learned a thing or two from the horror movies Eddie made you watch). You quietly pushed your bedroom door open and-

Shit.

Eddie was standing in your room in front of your mirror. Miles of pale skin just on display, scattered with contrasting dark tattoos he had. Nothing on, save for your lilac lingerie.

The palest purple lace bra, you can see from the back isn't even clipped correctly, missing the hook entirely. But the color is striking on Eddie. The lace thong cuts high on Eddie's ass, and you try not to gawk at the little black heart tattooed on his cheek. Eddie's scars seem softer amongst the lace.

How often did Eddie do this? Come over and put on your lingerie? Stand in front of the mirror and rub his fingers over his one hardened nipple. You couldn't see from where you were, but you knew his cock was hard. He'd be leaking all over your underwear, marking them.

Eddie lets out a little moan and it ignites a fire in your gut. You lick you lips as you watch Eddie, which maybe makes you a pervert but really it is your house and he is wearing your clothes so if anyone is-

Fuck why is it so hot?

"So-" you clear your throat. Eddie let's out a screech (that you are pretty sure ruined your eardrums) as he whirls around. He tries to cover himself with his arms, curls in on himself. And Holy cow he is hard.

He is big, so big, the tip just peeking out of the waistband of the panties. You can see the pearly translucent precum already dripping onto the underwear.

"I- fuck, I'm aha listen I can exp- i can explain!" Eddie fumbles over his words. You blink a few times tearing your eyes away from his massive dick (oh it would feel so good it would hit every spot just right).

Eddie's face is red, tears welling up in his eyes. "Oh Baby, no," you rush over, pausing when Eddie flinches. You gently put a hand out on Eddie's shoulder, drawing him into a hug, " It's- it's okay. Please don't cry." "Don't hate me." You gasp in shock, pulling back to look in his eyes," I could never!"

Eddie's eyes are wet, filled with unshed tears. His nose is turning a bit red, from embarrassment, shame, or sadness you can't tell. But his cheeks are such a pretty pink you think it'd look nice elsewhere on his pale skin.

Eddie hides his face with his hair, shuffling his feet a bit. "So..." you pause unsure how to ask it politely so you just go for it," I can see this is a kink thing...but like, what kind?"

Eddie shrugs," Wanted to feel pretty..." You frown," You are pretty Eddie." Eddie shakes his head and gestures to his abdomen," Not with these."

Eddie really should not be drawing your eyes any further south then his face. Cause your pulse kicks up and the fire inside you lights back up your spine. You can't help but notice his dick is still hard as a rock.

"You are too pretty." "Not really." "Yes!" Not-" You shove Eddie lightly, causing him to stumble back and fall onto the bed. Eddie's eyes widen in shock as he peers up at you.

"Don't talk about my best friend that way! You are too pretty. And handsome. Funny. So talented," You sigh and step forward, into Eddie's parted legs. Eddie leans up on his elbows and blinks rapidly at you. "You're so fucking pretty Baby." You murmur, hand reaching out lightly touching his thigh.

Eddie let's out a whine before looking startled at himself. You can't help but notice his dick twitch under the pale purple lace. "You like being called pretty?" You smirk. "Like when you call me Baby," Eddie replies softly.

You aren't sure who moves first, but suddenly your arms are wrapped around each other. Your lips meet Eddie's without hesitation. His are slightly chapped but still soft, molding perfectly against your own.

You run your hand down Eddie's neck, to the pale bra strap and snap it. He gasps and you take the chance, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He tastes of weed, mint gum, and just Eddie.

Eddie moans against you, hips bucking forward seeking friction. You pull back, gasping for air. Eddie let's out a whine," No, come back-" "I ain't going anywhere Baby."

Eddie's eyes flutter shut as he bites his lip. He hums as you kiss his jaw, lightly nipping at his pulse point. He shivers against you, hips bucking forward again. You suck lightly as you decide to give him some relief.

Your hand snakes down, grasping him firmly. You lightly squeeze through the lace, giving just enough friction as you move your hand.

"Look so good in my lingerie Baby, you should wear it more often." You murmur between kisses. Eddie nods absently, gasping and moaning beneath you. "Got a red pair that has some nice straps, you'd look so metal and so so pretty."

Eddie freezes, mouth falling open. His brow wrinkles slightly as he moans, pleasure overtaking him. His hips spasm, even his thighs twitch, as he comes. You can feel your underwear get soaked along with part of his stomach.

You stroke him through it, extending his pleasure until he whimpers and pushes at your hand. You pull back, smiling softly at his face. Eddie's eyes flutter open, darting down to your lips. "Kiss?" He asks quietly, unsure. You simply smile and kiss him again.