#it’s okay ill stop posting these soon

[petite-phthora]

Da da da... he’s dead

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 6]

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Part 1

Ao3

---

In-chat nicknames:

OGnerd = Jason

---

Miss Harleen Quinzel had been having a relaxing evening on the couch with Bud and Lou when she gets a message on her phone. Seeing it’s from Red Hood, who barely texts… well anyone, she quickly opens it.

All he sent her is an image. There’s no text accompanying it and Red Hood already went offline. Harley looks at the selfie Red Hood sent her.

It doesn’t seem like anything special until she sees the body on the floor next to him in the picture.

She freezes.

A big grin stretches across her face and she starts laughing. Not a giggle or a cackle, just a full-blown belly laughter full of happiness and relief and with tears gathering in her eyes.

From another room, her girlfriend’s voice sounds.

“Harls? Are you alright?”

---

An announcement had just been made of the Joker having escaped Arkham once again. And just when Tim thought tonight couldn’t have gotten any worse, Jason sent a message in the groupchat.

---

28 days without the Joker breaking out of Arkham

OGnerd: Due to personal reasons I won’t be patrolling Crime Alley tonight

OGnerd: Don’t follow me.

---

And, Jason being Jason, immediately turned his phone off after sending the messages.

So of course, Tim immediately went to follow him. After updating the groupchat name…

Fortunately for Tim, and unfortunately for Jason, Jason has not been informed of Tim’s stalker tendencies yet. Jason knows he’s nosy, but is unaware of the actual following people around and spying on them aspect.

It was child’s play for Tim to follow the tracker in Jason’s helmet to see him visit… a flower shop?

Tim’s first thought is that he might be following a lead of some kind seeing as he’s in his Red Hood outfit and all. But that thought evaporates the moment Jason walks out of the flower shop with a bouquet of… are those sweet peas?

Slightly bewildered, Tim continues to stalk follow Jason from a safe distance as he steps onto his motorcycle and leaves the flower shop.

He follows him to an apartment complex, where he sees Jason proceed to knock on someone’s window, flowers in hand, rather than just breaking in.

Tim watches as someone opens the window and after a while gets led outside by Jason and eventually down onto the ground and to the motorcycle.

Perplexed at how gentle Jason seems to be with the random dude, Tim barely remembers to move after them when they leave again on the motorcycle.

---

Tim could hear the yelled question from outside.

“THAT CLOWN I PUNCHED WAS THE JOKER?!”

That sentence leaves Tim with so many questions.

Not only has Jason’s friend— date? — interacted with the Joker. But he has also punched him, and all that without even knowing that it was, in fact, the Joker.

Watching as the guy put his head on the table in embarrassment, even making Jason concerned for the guy, Tim can only think that damn, Jason really knows how to pick them, huh.

Tim decides to leave them alone. It seems likely that Jason and his mystery boo had something to do with the Joker still not having made an appearance, but he’ll interrogate Jason about it later. He’d rather not be found out and killed for stalking Jason on his date, thank you very much.

While he’s moving further away from them, his coms crack to life with B’s voice.

“Everyone. Meeting at the clock tower in 10. Don’t be late.”

Tim swallows as he changes course to head to the clock tower.

Now, how to keep everyone off Jason’s back so he doesn’t commit familicide?...

---

Once everyone minus Jason was at the clock tower, they got the debrief.

The Joker had escaped Arkham two days ago, and no one has heard anything from him since. Not only that, but they didn’t even know he was gone until a day later.

It was an all-hands-on-deck situation, even Dick came from Bludhaven to help out on the search.

After the debrief is done and they’re about to start the search, B suddenly speaks up again.

“Where’s Red Hood?”

His response is silence as no one speaks up, just awkwardly glancing around. Dick almost started whistling but got elbowed in the gut by Damian. Steph, does, start whistling quietly.

B wasn’t deterred, however. With a sigh, he talks into the coms.

“Oracle—”

“Already on it. I’m currently trying to trace the tracker in his helmet and remotely turn on the cam and audio footage.”

There’s a pause in her speech.

“It looks like there’s some strange interference. The cam footage is being corrupted, and so the is audio.”

B’s expression stays stoic as always.

“The tracker?”

“Glitching. It almost looks like it’s teleporting around the map. It won’t give me one specific location and even disappears entirely every few seconds.”

B lets out a grunt before Babs continues.

“Though it looks like the places the tracker appears are all quite close to each other, so I might be able to interpolate the coordinates of the teleporting tracker and determine a general area for his location.”

“You know,” Tim speaks up foolishly, “in my personal opinion, I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. We should probably just leave him alone for the night“

Tim sweats as he can feel B’s gaze on him as he replies to Oracle. “Keep us updated”

---

They had split up and searched for two hours so far, stopping some minor crime on the way, but they hadn’t been able to find any clue as to where the Joker might be.

Oracle has managed to find the moment of his escape on the cameras, but after a while the files start to glitch and the rest of them are completely missing. Someone wiped the files.

They decided to regroup at the clock tower to discuss some more strategies.

“Oracle, report on Red Hood’s location.”

“I tried to get the general location of the tracker and I traced it all the way back to a restaurant, but I’m almost certain it just started moving. I’m currently tracing its path to try and extrapolate the new location.”

“Good. Keep us updated.”

Tim tries to speak up when Oracle starts talking again.

“Oracle here. I think the tracker is moving towards… the Gotham Observatory?”

“What the hell is Jason doing at the observatory?” Duke wonders.

Going on a date with a mysterious twink who’s definitely not a native Gothamite and seems to randomly punch clowns?

At first, Tim couldn’t believe Jason going on a date with someone seemingly so oblivious/naïve.

But when he puts it like that… yeah, ‘mysterious twink that punches the Joker without knowing it’ sounds like it would be Jason’s type…

“No real names.” Is B’s response, evoking some eye-rolls.

“Nightwing, go check on Red Hood at the observatory. Observation only, but step in if necessary. Report back”

B probably sent Nightwing cause he’s the least likely to get maimed by a pissed-off Red Hood.

Before Dick is able to take off, Tim nervously speaks up “You know guys, I think we should just leave him be for tonight and focus on finding the Joker”

The silence on the roof and across the coms speaks volumes.

B is the first one to speak up.

“Why are you covering for him?”

“I’m not covering for him!” is Tim’s immediate response.

He is, but if he revealed anything he has found out, Jason would murder him when (not if) he finds out.

B raises an eyebrow at him.

“Ohhh, Timbo’s been keeping secrets~— Ow!” Steph is heard saying, before being elbowed by Cass.

The others stay silent as they watch the exchange.

Damnit, why did Alfred have to teach B that eyebrow raise?

Tim caves.

“Alright, I am covering for him. But I can’t tell you what for. He’ll kill me”

Damian scoffs “Todd probably bribed Drake to keep his mouth shut. Don’t worry, I can make him talk”

Damian tries to step forward, katana raised, but gets held back by the scruff of his Robin costume by Dick.

“Richard, let me go!—”

“Nope, Little D. Let’s not commit fratricide today”

B doesn’t pay them any mind.

“Red Robin, if you have information on Red Hood and the Joker—“

“It has nothing to do with the Joker, I swear!” Tim tries. “Jason is just… having a relaxation day! He’s taking a uh, small break.”

Well, it probably has something to do with the Joker, but Tim has plausible deniability.

“So we shouldn’t bother him today, uh, at all. He really needs this, uh, self-care day. I mean have you seen the amount of grey hairs he’s been getting from the stress lately?”

The sound of Damian’s struggling against Dick’s hold is the only thing he hears.

B is just silently glaring at him.

“He’s on a date!” Tim bursts out.

…

Fuck.

The only sounds that break the silence are the small ‘oompf’ from Damian as he is dropped by Dick and Dick’s excited squeak of “Little Wing is on a date?!”

Uh oh.

---

Somewhere far away, in another realm, a manic cackle echoes across an expanse of green.

---

Taglist (for now, I’ll probably stop if I cant keep up):

@i-always-say-yea   @uraniumwizard    @why-must-i-be-like-this   @griffinthing

#sorry for the long wait #hopefully ill be able to post more soon #also #plot... :) #it's probably really easy to guess lol #also tim might usually be good at keeping secrets #he was taken very off guard by jason and his mystery date #def not at the top of his game #that coupled with the bat stare #he couldnt not share his findings #he's just gonna update his will real quick #and haha 'mystery *boo*' #ba dum tiss #okay ill stop #dp x dc #dp x dc fic #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #dead on main #dead on main ship

[rivetgoth]

𝕾𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝕸𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖞 𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 🖤🥀🦇

#goth #gothgoth #trad goth #goth fashion #image #my face #selfie tag #ok sorry ik ive posted a lot of pics recently i swear ill stop soon ive just had a bunch of good looks okay.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

THAT WOUND. THAT VILE WOUND. it throbs in time with your speeding heart, and the ache it carries through your veins is oppressive, its hot, it tangles around your jaw and through your spine and behind your eyes. there are needles, sprouting from the lacerations like the most heinous ivy, and it strangles your lungs, rips tears from your eyes, lures bile to your throat. it hurts. oh god it hurts. you cant think, you cant breathe, you cant swallow, you cant see. you cant see. you cant see. you cannot see but you know when your eyes are closed, because there are colors stained upon the backs of your eyelids. they form images of loved ones, of viscera, of bile and blood and blackened mud. its jarring, they make anxiety spike outwards, frantic ferro fluid, frightened from faces too scared, too pained, too dead, too piercing with eyes staring straight at you, straight at you. actually, you cant tell when your eyes are open.

SAUCE FREE VERSION UNDER THE CUT.

#jrwi fanart #jrwi riptide #jrwi riptide spoilers #cw blood #gillion tidestrider #cw injury #wadda hell else i tag this as huh #OHH I HAVCE A STORY FOR THIS ONE. IM ACTUALLY POSTING SMTH AS SOON AS I FINISH IT THIS TIME #I STARTED THIS LIKEEE I THINK A TWO WEEKS OR SO AGO. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SCRIBBLE SKETCH similar to that one i made o chip #BUT THEN WELL. I GOT ILL AND MY WRIST STOPPED WORKING N MY PEN PRESSURE STOPPED BEING REAL #SO FOR A MISERABLE WEEK I WAS JUST PLACING PIXELS WITH MOUSE OR NONDOMMY HAND. SLOWLY BUT SURELY #THE PAIN I DEPICT HERE IS REAL. AND ALSO BASED OFF MY EXPERIENCE WITH AGONIZING TOOTH PAIN. I LOVE DESCRIBING PAIN #ALSO so i have limits with how Gross i draw gore. like i cant stand puss or anythign too gnarly like eeeeww i dont like it too yucky #EVEN SO. THIS WOUND? FESTERING? BLISTERING? HOOOWWW FUN EHEHE i wanted to make this wound look PAINFUL and AWFUL and GROSS but not TOO GROS #OH TURN UR BRIGHTNESS UP FOR THIS ONE BTW #THERE ARE THINGS HIDDEN IN THE DARK AND ALSO THE COLORS LOOK LIKE SHIT ON MY DARKER MONITER #im also rly proud o the colors... pink blood on chest vs blue blood on face. the STICKYNESS. BEHOLD MY VISCOSITY. the splatter. the pain. #OKAY OKAy i think im done ramblin for now #if u read all this thankuuuu i loove yooouu

[esaari]

#oc #gabe #art study but i turned it into babygirl.... #i wasnt going to post this but im stuck at work for another 6 hours and im bored okay #im in a bit of an art block also but hopefully that fucks off soon #need to plan for a marcus art seeing as it is my birth month and drawing that bat boy seems to be my tradition #hopefully ill also draw a good gabe this month... double gift #anyway. gabe. I love YOUUU GABE IM NEVER GONNA STOP LOVING. YOÙUUUUU BITCH #ok back to work i go girlies ive yelled enough (no i havent lets be honest)

[slytherinshua]

woojin is so beautiful and lovely :(

#zanna speaks?? #okay i promise ill stop my whipped for woojin posts #maybe #prob not #as soon as i start listening to his covers #i start being extremely whipped again #hes just sooooo pretty #and his voice is sooooo angelic

[astrxealis]

finally actually working towards fixing my blogs lol 💪

#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚ #THE PROBLEM W ME... though... is i want to fix every single post on this account. which isn't. very. good. #considering i have thousands of posts and i am a very busy student but will that stop me !! probably not. #i'm NOT going to change my tags anymore i think. that'd probably kill me #there's a website tho ik but STILL.....!! troublesome. so. anyway! #gna start writing here soon again but that's dependent on whether i get my shit fully together finally. aaand i'm fixing my selfship #sb and etc etc etc yes <3 it just turned 12 am honestly i don't think i have the braincells rn #i want to COLLAPSE !!!!! tbf i could. totally do so. there's nothing important for me to worry over anymore #i mean yeah i might have a quiz later today but our teacher hasn't responded to email my classmate sent eyaghhhhhhh #SO. idk. we were supposed to do a lab fun thingy yesterday BUT THEN we got. noon classes suspended. weird shit. sigh #so.....!!! so. #it's physics and honestly going to be pretty easy since they're giving the equations so i'll just brush up on my knowledge #and then the concepts etc ... oh god. or maybe i could just yk... sleep...! #idk. anyway. HII GOOD JUST-TURNED-TECHNICALLY-MORNING-BUT-IT'S-MIDNIGHT FROM ME ^_^ #i am so ill (figuratively) i am a mess but i'll Fix Things #yk what would be so good for this all... exercise..... i at least am able to walk a lot everyday bcs of school but STILL #okay bye from me now. i am. TIRED... bye <3

[southislandwren]

my toxic trait is thinking i could get to and from [state](18 hours round trip) in one (1) day

#say it with me folks: i cannot go to [state] unless i get a hotel and ask for a day off work #im looking at the map. its 18 hours minimum not including stops and traffic and flooding etc etc. #i still want to go for a drive tomorrow but i CANT go to [state] it is TOO FAR AWAY #maybe ill go fuck around in minnesota or something idk #actually yeah that sounds fun. okay i have a plan #[state] my beloved i WILL see you again soon. i just need a 3 day weekend to come see you. nothing can keep us apart #well. my uncle's land is very much the main obstacle here. and the whole drought thing. and the sparse grass. #also for my new follower here's the context: for privacy reasons i redact which state it is lol sorry but its in the west half of the US #but i went there on a march trip and its awesome and i want to move there and start dairy farming. so sometimes i post abt pining for [stat #because despite how much i need to go back to [state] its an 18 hour round trip car drive from where i am and i cant just go have day trips #which is a BUMMER because otherwise i'd be there like every fucking weekend :(( #but i digress or whatever. someday i will break out of this bad state which is very different from [state] and everything will be good #(that's a joke because culture and climate etc where i live now and in [state] are like identical. the difference is [state] has mountains. #hopes and dreams post #diary post #okay im gonna go play my game now. fuck it friday time to find some koroks

[faehelmet]

THEY MADKE ME SICK

#i need to dump all of my stupid hcs/thoughts about them into a post at some point #i have been ocmpeltely fucked up over this pairing for like 2 years. there are no signs of me being free anytime soon #worst part is that we get like no elaboration on their canon dynamic or ANY info on oz as a chatacter so i have to do so much heavy lifting #when it comes to their development/how the two of them even manage to work #its a lot of convoluted backstory shit ill be honest. #idk i'll write abt it eventually #txt #okay i need to stop spamming i have like actual schoolwork to do

[courtingchaos]

I’ve been thinking about eddie who’s in the early pre relationship stages with you. but in his mind he’s married to you he’s been pining after you for so long. he doesn’t want to scare you though so he’s pumping the breaks and trying to take things slow.

you’re spending the night at his and he’s managed to keep enough distance from you that he deems respectful in his courtship of you. but when he wakes it’s to your hand high on his thigh, and you’re out for the count. and he’s hard as a rock and needs to move you before you wake up and see what state he’s in.

not wanting to wake you and alert you to his issue he thinks on his feet and decides he has to become soft asap, then he can move you. then if you wake up it’s not going to be to him feeling like a complete pervert.

so he’s reciting his favourite passages from all of the books he’s read.

only it’s not doing much. the pretty girl in his bed is winning this round.

he starts reciting them backwards to increase the difficulty and hopefully distract the ache away. but in his ingenuity to up the anti he’s inadvertently made it so tough that he’s now whisper shouting the words out loud. waking you. eddie still hard as a rock reciting poetry in a wicked order that makes no sense to man nor beast, is stopped abruptly in his tracks, gasping at the feel of your palm squeezing the meat of his inner thigh. Mortified and yet. Still painfully erect with no hope of going down anytime soon

sorry to vomit this at you but it seemed like fate that you’d asked for a request (this is far too long and detailed I’m sorry) and I was thinking about this at the same time

1. Don’t apologize, you’ve struck gold. You have not dug too greedily nor too deep.

2. You’ve written this really well so I could just post this with a bunch of reactions under it but, if you’ll allow me to expand upon this.

Picture this with me okay? He’s reciting Jabberwocky to himself. It’s a nonsense poem. He had an English teacher once give out a project for them to learn and recite a poem and of course he chose this. It has fun words in it like vorpal and borogoves. It’s become one of his bits actually when he’s trying to command a room.

“Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:”

Everyone will sigh. Jeff and Gareth and Frank will drop their heads onto their desks or over the backs of their chairs in long groans. Dustin still thinks it’s fun, he hasn’t gotten tired of it yet, and Mike likes it he just won’t admit it. Eddie loves it though, likes the way slithy toves slides off his tongue when he puts on that creaking voice he uses for warlocks durning games.

Now though he mumbles it to himself in the dark, his ludicrous attempt at bringing down his mood. Something had woken him at the witching hour, 3:07 shining a bright green from across his room. He wasn’t cold, his window shut against the chill earlier when you’d come over. He wasn’t overheated, quite content with you softly cuddled up next to him. No itch or ill folded sheet causing him discomfort. He had seven solid minutes of waking, a few he spared to revel in the heat of you lying next to him. To feel your shoulder lying on his as you pressed your face into his pillow. Your knee bent up and almost over his own and your hand planted firmly on his thigh.

Oh. That.

Those fingers he liked to twirl around his own and lick salt off of when you were done with your fries? Those fingers were under the hem of his boxers and a very much pressing into the meat of his thigh. You don’t move except to breathe but all he can focus on is that hand literal inches from his dick. The dick he’d kept in check for weeks now in the hopes he wouldn’t chase you away with the absolute need he felt. Kind of like right now where it lays heavy and hot against his thigh just like your hand.

So Jabberwocky it is.

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.

But in the dark with a hard on, slithy toves makes him chuckle. Almost full on giggle and he slaps a hand over his mouth to keep himself quiet. Slithy toves sounds like a euphemism for pussy and he can’t help the huffs of laughter pushed through his nose. He looks down in the hopes that this has distracted his dick but apparently laughter makes him harder and he files that away to look into at a later date. Borogoves floats through his brain and he immediately thinks about giving your boobs a new nickname and he has to put a foot down for himself.

Next verse.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun

The frumious Bandersnatch!”

Bandersnatch has to be a euphemism, there’s no goddamn way, it has the word snatch in it. He rolls his eyes and before he can sigh you shift beside him in your sleep, closer with your nose in his curls on his pillow and that soft hand he’s thought about when his own is too boring in the shower scoots another inch closer to the problem.

Maybe if he whispers it out loud?

“He took his vorpal sword in hand;-”

Absolutely not. Nope. New plan when he feels your sleeping breath across the front of his throat. It ghosts over his adams apple and all he can think about is your lips on his neck last week and how he’d pulled at his hair after you’d left just because it drove him insane.

Maybe if he recited it backwards it would confuse him enough all the blood would need to race back up into his brain.

“Outgrabe…raths…the-no…mome the and…” He’s squinting hard in the dark, reading invisible words on the ceiling in this new attempt to circumvent disaster.

“Borogoves…ha. Damn it. Borogoves…the were…mimsy all.” A headache is all this is giving him but for a moment he’s forgotten your hand and where it was. He’s searching the next line in his head and trying to jumble it so it isn’t so halting in the early morning quiet.

“Wabe the in gimble and gyer did!” He almost claps his hands when he makes it through without pause but he stops himself for fear of waking you up. Instead he spends 20 minutes working his way backwards through his poem, whispering to the night about the Jabberwock.

O frabjous day indeed when he realizes his dick is half soft now, not such a nuisance and a terror after he’s distracted himself. He thinks about waking you gently, a hand brushing your hair away from your face or running lightly over your leg but then you move. You move of your own accord and hook your leg over his. Kneecap bumping your hand higher and if he breathed wrong right this second you’d be brushing fingertips over his balls.

“And, as in uffish thought he stood,

The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,”

He mutters without whisper. It’s not full volume speaking but he really doesn’t want you to wake up and find him hard and awake with your hand shoved up his shorts. As much as he would really love to feel your hands on him like that he’s been trying his best to be gentlemanly. Only necking on your timetable when you steal him away to a quiet corner. A little over the pants stuff, heavy petting but you’ve never pushed it and it won’t make you uncomfortable, no matter what his dick wants him to do.

“Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,

And burbled as it came!”

Eddie sighs. “Jesus Christ.”

“Hm?” You hum at him. A high note in the back of your throat that has him whipping his head to see you stirring. Adjusting to your side and dra-a-agging that hand. He doesn’t know what to do as you come around and blink up at him in the dark. He can see the edges of your expression from the light filtering in from outside, smooth brow and faint smile until it isn’t.

“Di’ yousay sumthin’?” Slurred against his shoulder where your mouth is pressed.

“Uh, kind of.”

“You okay?” You press up against him, your pelvis into his hip and he’s about to be caught. There’s no way you aren’t going to notice the outline in his boxers or the way he’s gotta be sweating gallons just in nerves.

“I…yeah?”

“What’s the ma-” You shift to prop yourself up so you can sleepily inspect him and he wants to subsequently die and sigh happily when your hand meets trouble. “Oh.”

Oh. Oh? Oh yeah, no big deal, it’s just his dick showing up to ruin the party like the world’s worst frat guy. “Look, I was trying to make it go away and I-“

“Why?” Having just woken up your voice is soft in a deep way. Scratchy from dry air but it fits the mussed hair and the rucked up t-shirt you have on. His gaze falls on the sliver of stomach that you’re showing off between the covers and he’s having a hard time coming up with an answer.

“Why?”

“Is there an echo in here?” You laugh and slide your palm over his stomach that tenses. “Yeah, why.” Your pinky catches the hem of his thin shirt and pulls it up to reveal his own section of underbelly. “We’re alone right?”

“Y-yeah.” It comes out like a hiss though because your nails scratch across that newly revealed skin and right over the trail of hairs below his belly button. “We don’t have to do anything.”

“I know.”

“I just don’t uh, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

Your fingers move back and forth over his stomach before you let them dip back down to the waistband of his boxers, fingertip seeking under the elastic ever so slightly. “You’ve been very patient Eddie.” The rings on your hand are body warm but hold a child to them when they glide over skin. “I think we just had a little misunderstanding at first though.” Fingers comb through wiry hairs on their search for their prize. “I’ve been trying to do this since you asked me out, but I thought you wanted to wait.”

“Oh my god, no. I mean yes, because I thought that’s what you wanted but I read into things too much sometimes bec-ause fuck.” He was running his mouth but then you’d grabbed him. Wrapped that dreamy hand around his cock and sighed into his cheek like you were the one experiencing earth shattering euphoria.

“Eddie I’ve wanted to do this for months.” A slow tug to the tip and you do something with your fingers that makes his mouth hang open in a silent plea. Another twist before you run your thumb over his slit and he grabs your wrist.

“This is gonna be over so quick if you keep that up.”

“Well that’s not so bad, I was still a little tired.” Highlights pick up the line of your lips and that sleepy smile that’s all for him. Heavy lashes flutter when he lets you go and shoves his shorts down to give you room to work. “You can get me back when we wake up.”

He throbs in your grasp at the promised idea of getting you back and all that entails. He can’t help himself but think of wet and warm places while your hand moves in languid strokes. Hot puffs of air across his chest where you lay your head to watch and then he’s watching you watching yourself and falling into a vortex of horniness. He wants to weave his fingers into your hair for some reason. Wants to feel the softness between his fingers while you rub velvet skin through your own.

“Eddie?” You pant into his shirt, lips catching and dragging on the cotton.

“Yeah?”

“What were you reciting?”

It almost pulls him out of his pleasure it’s jars him so. Briefly he thinks about lying and saying Shakespeare but you’re already giving him a 3 am handjob so he thinks he might not have to fib. “Jabberwocky.”

“Alice in Wonderland?” Your hand leaves his cock suddenly but he doesn’t get to whine about it before he’s whining about you licking your palm and getting back to work. He nods above you like you could see him but it earns him a chuckle from you and a stray few fingers that tug at his balls.

“God damnit yes.” He does push his hand into your hair then, the other fisting into the sheets beside him. You make a passing remark about reciting it then but he honestly might not even know his own name. The way his legs move restlessly against the bed and his fingers grip into your scalp. The damp slide of your palm over the head of his cock, the twisting motion you keep doing, it’s all rocketing him towards his finish. The burn of it in his belly clouding his senses and making him buck his hips up into your touch. The air of your breath keeps breezing over his overheated skin and your panting laughs are shoving him closer and closer until he’s squeezing his eyes shut and going stiff.

Warm lines splash up his stomach and he knows in a minute or two he’ll feel shame unmatched by man heretofore known but right now he couldn’t care. Soft hands drag him through the aftershocks while you make praiseworthy noises into his chest. You coo at him for a job well done and he can feel the heat rise on his cheeks. Sitting up again to look back at him your drag a finger through the mess he made and when you take three seconds to inspect it he doesn’t expect you to bring it to your lips.

“I-“ He what? What can he say while he watches you suck on your index finger like he does? When a slick grin hooks the corner of your mouth up into something devilish and he has an awakening at almost 4 am.

“How was that, huh? Glad we got that over with?” You drop your cheek to your shoulder to give him a smolder but Eddie needs to taste your lips after you’ve tasted him. It’s a need not a want so he rushes you, pushes you back into the bed and gets his mess everywhere but it doesn’t matter. He kisses you deep until you both have to come up for air and then he’s peppering your neck in them until your giggling is too much.

He uses his shirt to wipe himself off, promising a shower in the morning, and pulls both of you under the covers to conspire in the afterglow.

“Do you think reading that poem is gonna Pavlov you now?”

“How so?”

“I mean,” your laugh cuts into your explanation, “slithy toves kind of sounds like a name for-“

“Pussy! I know!” He laughs with you. “And Bandersnatch!”

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson Fic #Eddie Munson Smut #Eddie Munson x Reader #My Fic

[ranboolivesaysstuff]

Ill talk about it more actually on stream as I feel like whenever I post something on other sites it just causes more discourse because of how the site works and I feel like this reaches a good amount of my community. Its really really hard to like call out specific behaviors online because a lot of the time it just ends up putting the idea in people's heads and ends up making some problems worse. Basically i've said this before and I know sadly im probably going to have to say it again but dont send people racist things or harass them simply because you dont agree with something they say about me? Like I really dont take any criticism of my content to heart because I understand that it isnt for everyone! And thats okay! No ones content is ever for everyone and people are allowed to have a negative opinion and I welcome people who watch me to say "hey I think you could have done this better" as it allows me to improve? If you actually cared about my content enough to do those awful things you would actually allow criticism. Like I dont know what more I can say at this point and I know me doing this isnt going to get anything to stop simply because the people doing this are idiots. Please if you dont like something someone says about me just ignore it! If you really dont like it then block them! Internet arguments are useless 90 percent of the time and only lead to the people involved just feeling worse! So maybe instead of like harassing people because of an opinion they have about me, just post something else! Dont make random arguments from tiny things! A LOT of the time a lot of things people argue about are just their opinion, and if you feel so strongly about it that you resort to harassing them then YOU NEED TO GO OUTSIDE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. Im not even going to say anything about how it affects me because if racism, transphobia, or any type of discriminatory language being JUST WRONG isnt enough then I dont want you watching my content to begin with! And to my bipoc audience, Im so sorry that you guys have to put up with this like every month or so and I cant thank you guys enough for helping me call this out. I appreciate you guys so so much. Ill talk about this more on stream soon.

[hazbinhotelxreader]

Lute x female reader smut part 2

Words:955

A/n: okay! I hope this is good, cause I didn’t fully know what to do for part two, but I tried to make it as long as I could cause I know ppl(or most) don’t like short smut fics. Also sorry this took a while, my school is hella long so weekends are better for posting, im ill today so I’ll be trying to write more

(Requested by kdkdlslsdldldldd on tumblr)

Warning: insulting, rough sex, mean Lute, gay sex, male positions/female positions , toys(straps), hair pulling, biting, size difference, blow jobs(fake), sobbing, bondage

You were still laying on the bed, exhausted from the hours of teasing and the hard orgasm you just had, but it wasn’t over. The next thing you knew you were flipped over onto your knees, your elbows holding you up due to your wrists being tied tightly together.

“Lute..?” You asked tired, she got up and opened one of her closet drawers, searching for something. You stayed in the position that lute told you to stay in, still dizzy and aroused from your pre-orgasm. Lute finally came back with a large strap, putting it onto herself.

You trembled with excitement and nervousness, your core more and more aroused. Lute got in front of you and roughly grabbed a hand full of your hair to force you up and forcefully opened your mouth. “Be a good girl and suck.” Lute said smirking. You lowered your mouth onto the strap, taking it in like it was hers and not a toy. You moan and suck the strap, Lute pushed your head deeper into it making you gag. “That’s it whore..good job..” Lute pretended to moan, causing you to grow even more aroused.

She started to thrust in and out of your mouth, fucking it. You let out gags and moans when the strap hits the back of your throat repeatedly. She finally stopped and pulled out eventually, strands of your saliva connected your mouth to the strap.

She then gripped your hair harder and pushed your head down on the bed, you let out a soft whine, a more needy one, even if you were slightly scared.

Lute went behind you, you were more scared now, Lute would not go easy on you. “Get ready you little slut…” she said more hushed and sat on the bed behind you, lining up the strap at your entrance, you whimpered softly when the cool rubber hit your entrance,’threatening to push in.

Lute grabbed your hips roughly, rough enough to leave bruises. You wince softly and close your eyes, your head still being forced into the bed by lutes powerful grip.

You can feel her pushing into you, stretching you out already. You let out a soft cry as she pushed in without any hesitation or worry for your concern. She let out a teasing deep moan into your ears to get you more turned on, and she succeeded.

“That’s right..taking in my cock like the good white you are..” Lute teasingly said into your ears, not giving you anytime to adjust to the straps size before already thrusting in and out of you. You let out quieter and more exhausted weak cries, it felt good but so painful too.

You started to get tears in your eyes from how tough she was being, your ass having red marks from how hard she was thrusting into you. Your eyes were closed tightly as she continued to thrust wildly, showing no remorse for your wellbeing. Your breathing becomes quicker as she picked up the pace.

She thrusted harder and harder, eventually you let out a long cry, cumming onto the strap. Lute smirked and chuckled darkly, pulling her strap out and then forcing you to give her another blowjob with it. You pant and sloppily take the cum covered strap back into your mouth, sucking it the best you could even though your exhausted.

Lute noticed your exhaustion and softened for a second. “Only a few more times…” She reassured before going back to fucking your mouth with her strap. You whimper and gag as she fucked your mouth harder than the last time. You licked the strap and sucked it, tasting yourself on it.

As soon as you finish cleaning the strap with you mouth, she flipped you back over onto your back. Untying the ropes off of your hands which you thanked her for, they were rope burned around the wrists. Lute took off the strap and put it on you instead. Positioning herself over it.

You take this moment to catch your breaths and relax, knowing that she’s finally giving you a break. She lowered herself down onto you gently, moaning as the strap entered her. You couldn’t help but grab her hips and force her down onto it more. She lets out a soft gasp, trying to keep her moans hidden and sound more mad still.

She started to thrust against your hips, the strap hitting against her walls. She moaned and gripped your shoulders, biting them harsh once again to ground herself. You moan and groan when you feel her bite you, loving the feeling of her hips pushing up again yours in a more gentle manner.

You began to buck your hips as well, trying to give Lute some pleasure of it too. She moaned louder into your shoulder and tightened her bite, causing you to let out a groan. She got closer and closer to her climax, bucking her hips more wildly over the strap.

You felt the warm liquid of cum from Lute fall over your things from below. Both of you pant while she pulls herself out of the strap, throwing it onto the ground and not caring about it right now. She laid down next to you, both of your bodies covered in pre-cum and sweat, your sticky bodies pressed together. She was more calmed down now, telling you soft sorrys for being so rough, she was a lot sweeter once she got all that stress out, and she’s looking forward to doing it again next time.

#hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #hazbin art #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #straps #hazbin hatel lute #lute x reader smut #lucifer x reader #lute x reader #hazbin lute #hazbin hotel lute #adam x lute

[multifariousqueer]

hear me out— crazy and openly flirty! reader with her crazy and jealous bf Miles 42. Expand on that however you want

Okay so I had a thought...

A/n: Keep requesting fics as always. I’m not gonna be as active but I’ll post as often as I can bc I’m going on vacation for a week but idk, ill prolly still post a ton 💀

Warnings: Mentions of blood, implied murd3r, you being a flirt and Miles being crazy asf, lmk if I forgot some

It seemed like a pretty normal day, you were designing some stuff for one of your classes and y/f/n(your crush/friend) decided to tag along. Y’all weren’t that close but everyone could tell there were sparks between you two, even more so than your boyfriend Miles.

Everyone(even y/f/n) knew that you two were dating and were happy but they still interfered. People claimed you were a slut and you were insane and you were forcing Miles into a relationship even though, people close to y’all claimed it to be the opposite. You never really broke the habit of flirting for fun and this pissed Miles off to no end:

“Y/n he thinks you’re single” Miles would say

“Well I’m not. I’m just naturally flirty” you would defend

“You’re also beautiful mami and people want to take advantage of that” Miles said

“Well thats why I have you” you would say, standing on your tiptoes to kiss Miles

“Mmm he better watch himself, let’s just say that next time he pulls that shit, I might not be so nice"

Miles was a wonderful boyfriend but your exact opposite. Where you were bright, happy, always had a smile on your face and friendly; Miles was dark, nonchalant, cold and walked around like his opps were around the corner, about to kill you. You two shared a few things though, you were both crazy and possessive of each other. If Miles spoke to a girl you didn’t know, you would come over and kiss him, touch him, and flirt with him; making him flustered

“Miles, te necisito, papi” you would flirt while tilting your head and rubbing his lower back

“Oh! Who is this?” the girl asked, with a hint of venom in her voice

“I’m Y/n but you can call me his wife” you said, putting out your hand for her to shake

“Girl chill, we’re 16. He ain’t marrying you anytime soon” the girl clapped back

“You don’t know me.” Miles would say coldly to the girl

“And you won’t get the chance to” you would finish and smile at the girl

The girl walked away in a huff after that and Miles smirked at you:

“You jealous ma?"

“No. I just don’t want people pushing up on my man” you said

He chuckled and said:

“Don’t worry, Mami; I’m not feeling no one else but you."

After this little escapade; You and Miles had the mutual agreement to stop flirting with other people and you held up your end of that well until y/f/n came along and kept pressuring you to go out with them and give them a chance:

“You know, if you were with me, I’d never let you out of my sight. Anywhere you go, I’d go. Class? I’ll carry your books. Home? I’m right behind you. The Bathroom? I’m-“ they started

“You’re what? No. Go ahead and continue that sentence, I dare you” Miles said suddenly

“MILES!!! Thank God you’re here, I was so scared” you said, clapping your hands together like a prayer had been answered(because it had).

“Dude, chill; I was just joking. Y/n knows I’d never overstep like that, bro” y/f/n said, holding out a hand in an attempt to dap your boyfriend up

“I’m not your ‘bro’ homeboy, watch how you step, it might be your last if you keep fucking with my girl like that” Miles said taking a step towards the person. They were almost equal height but Miles was slightly taller(6’2 yes ik its not canon and idc)

It seemed like they would fight right there in the hallway with the way Miles was staring at y/f/n and while y/f/n was a bit intimidated, they weren’t backing down. They were another one of your victims of over-flirtation but unlike the others, they were persistent and tried the friend angle in order to get to you but they didn’t sound on your boyfriend being jealous and possessive. Eventually, they walked away and Miles pulled you aside:

“Don’t fucking talk to them again, you understand ma?” Miles said

“I understand. I am so so sorry, they just came up to me and cornered me.” you explained with watery eyes

“It’s fine, ma. Don’t let it happen again, tu entiendes?” he said, grabbing your chin to look him in the eye

“Si, papi. Te amo” you said

The next few days were quiet. Miles stayed closer than usual to you, y/f/n stayed away but they stared at you constantly and smirked at you. It was one faithful Saturday that would change all of that in a flash.

Miles was away doing Prowler stuff and you were designing possible suit, mask and gauntlet combos when you heard a knock on your dorm. You opened the door and were shocked to see y/f/n:

“Hey, y/n. Can we talk?"

“Uhm I should wait for Miles. He’ll be back shortly” you lied. Prowler shit took four hours min because Miles would carry stuff out in bulk so he could spend more time with you

“We can talk without him right?” Y/f/n said, pushing into your dorm. Your dorm mate was away for the weekend, visiting her parents in nantucket.

“Oh. I guess” You said

“so what you drawing?’ they asked

“stuff” you giggled

“Fuck I love your laugh.” they smiled

“um thanks” you replied

“a pretty laugh for a pretty girl” they said, grabbing your chin and staring at your lips

“thanks. You caught me at a bad time, I’m just about to go shower” you said pushing their hand away

“Oh can I join, haha?” they joked

“hahaha.” you said, silently praying Miles was outside your window witnessing all of this and waiting to strike

“You know, I’ve had a huge crush on you since you first came here? You were genuinely sweet and kind and pretty. Miles doesn’t know how lucky he is to have someone like you” They confessed, closing the gap between y’all

“Yeah but I can tell he appreciates me. He never makes me feel uncomfortable” you said with a hint of venom

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” they asked, approaching your lips

“Yeah, very” you said trying to back away. At this point, you were praying for a miracle when all of a sudden, you hear a slashing noise and see blood on your floor

“I told you to stay away from her. I gave you a warning, this is on you homeboy”

“Who are you?” they spluttered out.

A mask opened up and suddenly he appeared

“I’m Miles Morales, but you You can call me the Prowler. Right, Amor?” Miles looked at you

“Right, baby. You said, kissing your man as the person in front of you, fades away.

#mcu fanfiction #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales headcannons #miles morales #miles x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse fanart #across the spiderverse spoilers #spiderman into the spiderverse #into the spider verse #spiderverse #earth 42 #earth42!miles #earth42!miles smut #prowler!miles #foryou

[chai-berries]

i’m a little crybaby bitch & i just sobbed over a movie but all i could think about is being abby’s little crybaby gf & having her comfort me </3

sooo unfortunately/fortunately i am not a big crier when it comes to anything but one of my best friends is a happy/sad/bored crier and i’ve helped her calm down post cry a few times. she’s a true cancer <3 i’ll channel her into my thoughts.

im thinking of two scenarios, watching something sad without abby & watching it with her ⤵️

watching without abby:

she’d probably be working on something in another room when you decide to start a sad fucking movie. abby’s ears perk at the first sniffle, but she brushes it off cause it’s always allergy season. but when she hears you shakily breathe out “oh,,, my gOD” with your voice all broken and wet, she’s immediately sliding to a stop right outside the living room. you’re curled up with a huge blanket swallowing you, surrounded by snacks and your emotional support water bottle. she notes your wide, glossy eyes and coos “baby what’s wrong?” and you gesture at the tv, “she - she just loves her family so so much! and she couldn’t tell them before they died!” your voice is cracking around your words.

abby has absolutely no idea who “she” is but that doesn’t keep her from sitting down and pulling you into her side, rubbing her hand up and down your arm. “they’re just a - a great family” you stutter though tears. abby looks up at the tv and sighs. “baby, why did you chose the saddest movie on netflix?” you hesitate. “uh, i was up to the challenge?” “yeah? how’s it going?” she quirks a brow at you. you laugh wetly and abby mentally fist pumps. she presses a kiss to your temple. “okay, how about we watch something happy. ill refill your water.” abby gets up to go into the kitchen when she’s stopped by a tug on her back belt loop. you’re looking up at her, eyes less glossy but still not dry enough. “what?” she asks. “thanks for putting up with a crybaby for a girlfriend.” she picks up your hand from its place at her waist and brings it up to her lips. “anything for you sweet cheeks”

watching with abby:

“no, no, no, nah, not happening! abby, please tell me they’re not gonna do what i think they’re gonna do!” you pause the movie and shake abby’s shoulder, your face so serious in the light of the television. abby giggles and shrugs like a fucking twerp and nudges you to keep watching the movie. she tells you that “you’ll find out soon - keep watching” like she’s never, in all the time you’ve been together, been witness to the millions of times you deep dived imdb and wikipedia five minutes into a movie whenever it starts out with a sad scene.

you don’t do sad movies. and it’s for a good reason! you get all dehydrated and you look sick for hours afterwards!! it’s embarrassing and gross!! abby has witnessed it once and, like her father’s daughter, handed you a glass of water and pulled you gently into her arms, holding you until you got your breathing under control. and that was a week before you asked her out!! on your first date she told you that the crying thing made her want to “take care of you forever”… is it too obvious to point out that she soooooo got lucky that night?

however, in present time she might be sleeping on the couch for trying to get a depressing movie past you. she apologizes to you, tucking you under her arm. “i promise it’s gonna be worth your tears, okay?” she kisses your head. “and i always take care of my crybaby girlfriend, don’t i?” she kisses the same spot again. you relax into her side.

… sooo it’s safe to say you sobbed a whole lot at the end and completely soaked the front of abby’s shirt. you guys had shifted horizontal mid-movie, you laying on top of her. “i hate you” sounds a lot more honest when you’re not desperately clutching at the waist of the person you’re talking to. “but it was a good story, right?? aww i’m sooo sorry, baby,” abby rubs your back. she hands you your water bottle and chocolate before you even think to ask, like she always does. then, you begin the embarrassingly to you cute to abby process that involves sips of water, bites of chocolate, and your head following the rhythm of abby’s chest up and down as you match her breaths.

<\3

no but really we all know abby will always comfort you even if she has no context to what you’re crying about! ride or die babyyyy

#hi anon <3 #WHEW! #this took so much brain power #but i did it!!!!!! #abby anderson x reader #abby brainrot era #abby anderson x you #mads’ headcanons #q&a

[lewkwoodnco]

Falling For You - Lockwood x Reader

“First person to laugh loses.”

”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”

”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”

It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.

“Deal.”

a/n: tfw you almost die in the arms of your future employer :) rip lockwood and co, never an agents first choice be it in canon or fanon ok ill stop now also just to be clear we’re all ignoring how much the title sucks ass okay god only gave out a limited number of brain cells and we can’t ALL be as creative as @bella-rose29 (will make a separate post on this a little later, not enough space here) (but also she was SICKKK for coming up w the title deck the halls (and not your partner) ok didn’t mean to turn this into a belle appreciation post but 👍)

warnings/tropes: fluff fluff FLUFF, this is about as fluffy as it gets from me ashdkd, cringy pick up lines overload, also I declare plagiarism (?) of some rlly popular incorrect quotes, you'll know it when you read them

word count: 2.6k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

She and Lucy were in the kitchen, putting the kettle on and waiting for the boys to reach home. The four of them had split up to get some errands done that morning before breakfast - she and Lucy went to collect the payment for a few jobs, while Lockwood and George dropped off some paperwork at DEPRAC headquarters. Lucy put the kettle on while she refilled their teabag jar, and a minute later the boys walked in.

George was telling Lockwood off for something, who wasn't looking too sorry for whatever it was that he had done, though he clearly cared enough to try to suppress his giggles.

"Those forms took me hours, Lockwood. I wasn't about to let you drop them into some slush."

"I keep telling you, I wasn't going to drop them."

"How would you know when you were too busy making an ass of yourself?"

"I haven't seen a good pickup line in a while, George. You found it funny too."

"Yes, and the threat of you chucking our forms was downright hilarious."

She handed out the mugs of tea.

"What pickup line?"

"It was just a DEPRAC ad. Something like 'Are you a wraith? Because you have me love-locked.' Just a reminder of some quick signs of a visitor presence for Valentine's Day." 

She meandered over to where Lockwood was standing at the kitchen counter, a little too casual. He immediately snapped up whatever he was scribbling. She looked mildly (read: exaggeratedly) injured, but he just gave her one of his winning smiles. Really, she was well within her rights to be suspicious.

"S'that?"

"A bill."

"What bill?"

"Nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried."

"Good."

"Show me the bill."

"You're adorable."

It was a poor excuse of an attempt at a distraction, as she immediately started trying to snatch it away. Lockwood just held the folded paper above his head, trying to pry his jacket out of her yanking hands. After a minute or so of vehement struggling, the scuffle ended the way all of their scuffles ended - her playing at sour grapes.

"Oh! Go boil-yer-head. I don't even want to see that bill anyway."

He slotted the letter into an envelope smoothly as George cut in.

"Speaking of bills, hopefully, we'll be able to pay more of them off soon. Couples like to go away for Valentine's, so it's the perfect time to get any lingering visitors taken care of. We should put an ad in the paper, like DEPRAC."

That set Lockwood off again, and George groaned. As he got up to get another biscuit, she conspiratorially turned to Lockwood.

"Y'know, for someone who's so tickled by pickup lines, I bet you'd be terrible at them."

"Not more terrible than you."

"I beg to differ!"

"Wanna bet?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

“First person to laugh loses.”

”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”

”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”

It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.

“Deal.”

Their bet had taken a back burner in her mind while she was preparing for their case that night, but she was still immediately suspicious when she walked into the kitchen to see Lockwood innocently snacking on a bowl of raisins.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing! Can't a guy eat his raisins?" He silently proferred the bowl to her. She narrowed her eyes. 

"No thanks."

"How about a date?"

"When did we get - oh. Ha ha." There was a mischievous crinkle in Lockwood's eye. "Sneaky. I was busy preparing for our case, like a proper agent."

"Hmm, excuses, excuses."

"Fine. If George finds out you haven't read tonight's case file, you're on your own."

"NO no no no please please please -"

She prepped a few pickup lines before they left, just enough to stop Lockwood from becoming completely unbearable.

"Are you a visitor? Because you've been haunting my dreams."

She scrunched up her nose. "Boo. That's terrible."

"You try coming up with a visitor-themed one. They're all so horrible."

She paused for a minute.

"Are you a Lurker? 'Cause you're making my heart race."

"...no one likes a show-off," he grumbled, and she smiled to herself as they continued rooting through boxes, looking for a potential Source.

"Your hand looks heavy. Could I hold it for you?"

"What's it like to be the most gorgeous person in this room?" That one got a good laugh out of him.

"Might be more flattering if my competition wasn't a Raw Bones. You’re pretty and I’m cute. Wanna be pretty cute together?"

"If you and I were socks, we'd make a great pair."

She revelled in the huge smile that lit up his face. She knew he'd get a kick out of that one.

She hadn't expected to have as much fun with their game as she did. They recounted their highlights to Lucy and George on the way home, which made for an entertaining end to the case. As Lucy and George put away their coats, Lockwood lingered behind, looking at her as if there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't quite find the words. She became even more alarmed when he placed a hand on her shoulder, because of how serious he looked.

"Is everything okay?" 

He took a shaky breath and tightened his grip on her shoulder ever so slightly.

"If you let me borrow a kiss, I promise I'll give it right back."

The line itself wasn't particularly outrageous, but in the darkness by the door, with their faces in the shadows and him holding her close, she momentarily forgot how to breathe.

"Good one," she whispered.

He gave her a sloping smile and retreated into the kitchen. She stood there for a moment, thinking about the warmth on her shoulder, as if his hand was still there.

"Did it hurt?"

"When I fell from heaven?"

"When you fell down the stairs. Right in front of us. It's been ten minutes and you haven't even gotten up yet."

With a strangled wheeze, he righted himself, looking more than a little stupid with his affronted expression and hair sticking up in all directions. They were on a case, and Lockwood had been a bit too close to the stairs whilst investigating the death glow on the landing. It had been quite a painful-looking rollercoaster of a fall with many bumps as he flailed for the railings, ending with a muffled scream.

"I was checking for broken bones."

"For ten minutes? Do you even have that many bones?"

He had an oily smirk on his face, though it was mostly nullified by his slightly crossed eyes.

"I've got...so many bones, I could give you a...wait. No. Hey lady, do you want a...bone? If you were a bone, you'd be in my...body...my body has all the bones...hang on. Okay, got it. Bones....fuck."

"...concussion?"

"Nuh-uh."

That was the moment his knees chose to buckle under him, and the three of them hurried to hold him upright. Even though he kept insisting he was fine, he was looking far too pale and woozy, so they flagged down a cab and pushed Lockwood into it. After a quick round of rock paper scissors, she joined him in the cab while George and Lucy got to stay to finish the job.

It had been a bit of a challenge to fumble for the key to the front door with the dead weight that was Lockwood compressing her spine, but she somehow managed. She tried her best to keep track of all of his long limbs after he knocked his head on the side of the door frame, groaning again. She dumped him onto their living room sofa, going down with him in the process, and with some difficulty peeled herself out of his grip. The bump had clearly taken quite a bit out of him, for by the time she returned with a blanket, he had completely passed out.

With some difficulty, she wrestled his rapier off of him and draped the blanket over him. She put away her own gear and rapier and curled up with a book on the armchair opposite the sofa. It was odd to see Lockwood sleeping. And even more odd to see him doing it so peacefully, like all thoughts and worries had been knocked clean out of his head. Much like her thoughts, the first time they met.

It hadn’t even been her goddamn fault. She had been lugging around her uncle’s rapiers since hers had been sent for cleaning and it was starting to make her arm ache. She deserved a little lean, no doubt. Only, what she thought was the door frame had been the door itself, so when her then-future employer had opened the door, she stumbled right into his arms.

And then promptly fell out of them when he let her go by surprise. To his credit, he was superfluously apologetic and sympathetic, and kept asking if her head was alright throughout the interview. It was a little annoying, if she were entirely honest, but she was grateful when that sympathy translated into a job, because all coherent thoughts in her head were lying somewhere on their front door runner.

As much as she tried not to think about the incident since Lockwood showed no sign of doing so himself, it kept her up at night more than she'd like to admit. But it had also been rather liberating, as there was little else she could do that would be any worse.

As if hearing her thoughts, Lockwood began to stir after an hour or so, opening his eyes blearily. She instinctively put her book down and crouched next to the sofa, where she immediately felt awkward. After a moment's hesitation, she placed her hand on his forehead, and they blinked at each other in confusion.

"How're you feeling?"

"Great." He cleared his throat, which barely helped his hoarse voice. "Chipper."

"Are you sure? Feeling chilly?"

"No, I'm fine. Are you a construction worker?"

"...huh?"

"Because you are building."

"What."

"I win."

He turned to his side and buried his face into his cushion with a satisfied look on his face. 

"Oh, Lockwood. I don't think..."

He pulled his head out of the cushion alarmingly fast. That couldn't have been good for his neck. "Ohhh, too good for my pickup lines now, eh?"

"I...what?"

"I get a bump on my head and you don't like my pickup lines no more?"

"Why do you have a Brooklyn accent?"

"You's got a Brooklyn accent."

"Okay, now you're just throwing a tantrum."

He fussed for a few more minutes, muttering out of the corner of his mouth or into the cushion, but eventually calmed down. As his eyes fluttered close, his breathing becoming long and even, she quietly got up to leave.

"Just so you know...I do think you're building."

The Brooklyn accent was gone, and though his low murmur was comfortably familiar, something in it sent a spark running through her brain.

"I think you're building too."

She could have sworn he had a small smile before his mouth relaxed as he drifted off again.

She didn't see much of him after that, given how much rest he needed, and the reprieve from their game was a welcome relief. The pickup lines didn't slide off her tongue as easily when she meant them as much as she did now. Still, she couldn't hide from him forever, and ran into him in the kitchen a few nights later.

"Oh. Hey."

He held up the biscuit tin. "Hello. Catching up on my biscuit rations."

She smiled. "Feeling better?"

"Definitely. A little sick of lying about, but I think I've finally got my head on straight."

He smiled, and the tension between them melted. She smiled back.

"Must have been scary, having your brain go wonky like that." 

"It was...wild. I don't even know how I had the presence of mind to put my rapier away."

Her cheeks burned as she pointedly rummaged through their pantry for a snack while Lockwood brewed tea for the both of them. They sat at the kitchen table in silence, slowly sipping their tea as they ignored the elephant in the room. That is, until Lockwood broached the subject.

“Did it hurt?”

She put her mug down. “Lockwood.”

“Did it hurt?” He pressed, firmly.

“I’ve already heard this one.”

“Just - humour me for a minute, won’t you?”

She looked at the little she could see of his face, given how close they were sitting, and gave a small sigh.

“So. Did it hurt?”

“When I fell from heaven?”

“When you fell into my life.” 

He lightly squeezed her hand, it was only then that she realised that they were holding hands. She choked on her breath in a mildly undignified manner, but with the proximity and the unexpected answer, she was well and truly taken aback. She waited for the embarrassment to kick in. There were a lot of things to be embarrassed about at that moment - how he could probably see every imperfection on her face, how he could probably tell how nervous she was getting from how clammy her palm must be, and of course that he remembered their dreadfully embarrassing first encounter.

But the shame never came. If anything, she felt oddly…touched. There wasn’t anything embarrassing about the memory anymore. It was…as much as it pained her to admit it…slightly romantic. She looked away from his face, shaking her head slightly, staring at their gripping hands. So easy it was to hold onto each other in the shadows, but terrifying in the daylight. Scratch that, it was terrifying to see herself holding his hand just as tightly as he held hers. Maybe he did compel…something in her.

His hand disappeared into his pocket, and a moment later he was pulling out a familiar, weathered envelope. 

"I've never...I've never asked anyone to be my Valentine. Never knew how it worked. Still don't really know how it works. So I tried writing it all down, and..." Lockwood frowned at the loopy yet measured scrawls in front of him. He sighed in defeat, crumpling the letter. "...and I still don't know how it works."

She swallowed through the lump in her throat. "Me neither. But..." she tore her eyes away from the table, looking at his face with his emotions stacked plain as day. "I think we know enough."

She curled her fingers into his. Years ago, she hadn't thought knowing if she was in love would ever be an issue, but for so many years she struggled to find the love they wrote books, songs and poetry about. But sitting here now, in the dim light of the kitchen, with a person whose face she could trace in her sleep, she realised Little Her had had it right all along.

“I always thought you were very nice to me in that interview. A little too nice.”

“You didn’t hear the way you screamed. I thought you were going down with a heart attack.”

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #fanfiction #fanfic #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood imagine #valentines day #fluff

[abibliophobiaa]

I'm bad at giving prompts because I never know what authors would be inspired by, so I'm going to give you vague ideas and you can pick whatever parts suit your fancy. I know you'll write something cool no matter what :)

Soulmates, but only one party knows they're soulmates

Eddie insecure of his scars

Walking in the woods

"Don't you know I care about you?"

Some innocent cuddling or handholding

did you look for me?

i ended up going with eddie being insecure about his scars and the anniversary of one year post S4. eddie munson x f!reader. warnings: drinking to the point of intoxication; eddie becomes physically ill - throw up mention; wound description, scar mention; smut, but the vague, sort of poetic kind. formatting is also kind of weird because i did not use google docs and…it shows. (3.5k words)

He’d told you he’d be going out with Steve. Wanted to get out and spend time with him on the day Vecna almost took everything from you. He’d left with a kiss brushed against your forehead in the night, his hands lingering over the dip of your hip, cooing softly to ease the tiredness from your form as you shifted and raised yourself up onto your elbows in bed, palms brushing against your eyes to bring some life back into them. 

“Just going out for a little while,” he promised, thumbing at the curve of your jaw. Wiggled your chin until you smiled. “You worked all day. Please get some sleep, okay?”

“I love you,” you’d mumbled, face pushing back into the endless comforters lining your shared bed. 

“I love you too, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon, okay?” 

And you should have known. Should have been more awake to argue with him to stay home. To stay here. Should have anticipated what an absolutely terrible idea that had been. Not when you’d known what he’d experienced. Not when you still remembered that day so vividly. The call from one of the kids—them crying that something had happened, just as the world beneath you had rocked endlessly.

An earthquake, you’d been told. 

Eddie had been hurt. Badly. The kind of hurt that had you fumbling with your keys in the ignition of your car. Cursing and slamming your fist against the steering wheel when you’d lost grip of them and they clattered onto the floor to taunt you. The kind of hurt where you’d gotten a flash of him as he’d been thrown onto a gurney shortly after you’d arrived, someone already there balancing on the edge of the table doing chest compressions until they could get him into a room, because his heart had stopped. 

A whole minute. For a minute, you’d lost him. All of you had.

For a minute, Eddie had left the world, lingering somewhere away from his body. Away from you. Nearly gone. And then…not. He’d come back and had been immediately hooked up to endless machines and taken in for surgery. Surgeries that had seemingly lasted for hours, your feet carrying you back and forth in an endless back and forth line you hardly cared about potentially leaving a burn mark in the carpet. 

After that it had been days of touch and go. Months of healing, tending to his scars, watching him adjust to the way he looked in the aftermath of it all. He pretended to be okay. You knew that. Watched him hide behind smiles, behind a joke, behind doing the things he’d done before. Watched him strum away on his guitar at band practices, stand in front of rooms of people suddenly intrigued by the boy who had been cleared of rumored murder charges, the boy who had defeated death and came back.

A “Freak”—yet this time, one of their own making.

He carried on with the kids as usual, too. Started up Dungeons and Dragons meetings, began growing the group. Invited the girls, invited Robin, Steve and yourself. You always clung to the outskirts, watching him do what he did, watching him try and make sense of the world after the unimaginable. Putting his best foot and face forward, if only to protect those around him from the monsters who roamed his dreams at night, with endless teeth and flapping wings.

So no—no, it comes as no surprise when later at three in the morning you receive a phone call from Robin. The motherly figure of the small trio that had gathered that evening. She’s short and concise in speech, oddly enough for her, in her explanation of what’s gone on. Eddie drank…and quite a bit, from the way she describes it.

Exactly like a year ago, you fumble with your keys in your car, slam your palm against the steering wheel when they drop near your feet, and eventually peel out of the parking lot of your apartment complex.

He’s out on a lounge chair in Steve’s backyard when you find him. When Steve opens the door and apologizes. Says he didn’t realize Eddie must have drank before even arriving, and then offered him more on top of it. Your hand curls around Steve’s shoulder, grimace settling into place as you walk out onto the patio, eyes searching for the familiar form of the man who stole your heart two years ago now. The man who is lost now in his mind, swirling around a drain, staring up at a starry sky.

“Hey, handsome.”

Your chest flutters as he turns his head over the side of the chair, his flushed cheeks tugging upward with the silliest smile that spans his features, body gravitating to yours as it always does, flailing limbs and all. His dimples practically strain from it, though he nearly falls off the chair upon doing so, hand slapping against the ground to keep himself steady.

“Careful there,” you sigh, stepping closer into his proximity, gesturing to the small space on the chair near his hip. At his nod, you settle down, grimacing as he loops his arms around your waist and presses his forehead into your neck. Eddie on a normal day is a big fan of cuddling. Drunk Eddie’s favorite pastime is cuddling. “How about we get out of here? I’ll drive you home and we can get ready for bed?”

“I was just trying to forget.”

It’s like a hammer coming down to pulverize your heart. The quiet tremor of his voice, the sharp inhale of breath, the moisture on your collar bone. But you grant him that safety of your comfort, instead. Curl your hand around his ringed fingers and help him to his feet, quiet and careful as you lead him through Steve’s home, mindful of the sharp corners he bumps and sways into.

Steve’s there at the passenger door to help ease Eddie down inside, a sad frown set in place as he claps his friend on the shoulder and wishes you both a good night. Robin reminds you to call if you need anything else, and blows Eddie a kiss, both waving as you pull away from the Harrington home and head back to the place you share with Eddie, certain you have a long night still ahead.

—

The night is long, as you expect it to be. Getting Eddie into bed is one thing. His hands rest on your shoulders as you help him out of his jeans, his gangly thighs tangling in the material, nearly sending him careening backward into your shared mattress. He strips out of his shirt next, insistent that it’s too hot in the room. And for a spring day, with the windows already gently parted, you’ve needed to put on a hoodie to block out the chill in the air. But you watch him undress all the same, his back falling against the plush pillows beneath, a loud exhale spilling from his lips.

“I’m going to go get you some water and some pain relievers, okay?” Moving to make your way toward the bedroom door, Eddie’s fingers snatch yours before you can go any further. Chocolate brown eyes lift to meet your face, beckoning you back onto the mattress beside him, grunting as he throws himself on top of your chest, arms tangling in the fabric of your hoodie. “Eddie, you really need to drink some water. I’m serious.”

“I’m sorry for upsetting you,” he mumbles.

“Eddie, I’m not—”

“I can see it in your eyes. I know you.”

“I was worried, that’s all. I promise.”

“I’m sorry.” And there it is again. That lightning bolt to your chest. That feeling of anguish that rattles you deep within your bones. “I haven’t slept in days. I needed…”

Days. He’s gone days and you’ve been too busy with work to see it. Guilt drops like an anchor in the pit of your stomach, grief joining it there. Pity—for the man pressing close to your body, shame swallowing him whole, suffocating him. Fingers reach out to untangle the strands of dark curls on the back of his head, running through each coil, patting them into place. He sighs and sinks further into the mattress, and eventually stills, the sound of your heartbeat lulling him into sleep.

Hours later, you wake to the sound of retching in the adjoining bathroom. Eddie’s groans of displeasure echo off the tiled walls. Careful to not startle him, your feet drop down to hit the carpet beside your bed and carry you across the short distance between the bedroom and softly parted bathroom door where yellow light spills out into the hallway.

“Eddie?”

You catch him swishing mouthwash around puffy cheeks. He spits into the sink and glances your way. Eyes red-rimmed and tired. The sort of tired not even the best night of sleep could take away. No words are spoken as you step into the bathroom further, as you run your fingers along the side of his chest. Against the curve of his cheek, where new stubble has grown in since he’s last shaved.

“You been up long?” you ask, even though the fear of the answer has you weary. He nods, but at least he seems more aware of his surroundings now. More himself, despite his haggard form. “You should hop in the shower. It’ll make you feel better. While you do that I’ll make you the waffles you like. Strawberries and all.”

It’s a silent parting. You slip away from his side with a squeeze of his hip and a brush of your lips against the corner of his lips, making your way down the short hall to your shared living room and connecting kitchen. It’s small, but it’s yours. Has been for months now. After a serious conversation with Wayne, about how Eddie was struggling even if he hid it well, you’d all come to the agreed upon conclusion that he needed space away from the rest of the chaos of Hawkins. Away from those who still sneer at him in supermarkets, or shout out false accusations in parking lots.

Murderer. Freak. Killer. Psycho. Names thrown around, barbed wire and daggers, aimed at the man who had done nothing wrong.

It doesn’t matter Hopper had his name cleared shortly after the events that occurred that horrible week. Those who hated Eddie Munson hated him long ago. Chrissy and the other’s deaths were just further ammunition to leverage their ill intent.

Your apartment at least grants him the peace of safety and solace of quiet. On the edge of town, away from prying eyes, and close enough to both your jobs. The other renters in the complex leave you both be, despite a few noise complaints you’ve made about the rowdier tenants just above your bedroom, and it works for the time being. Until you can save up for something new; something you can grow in, grow old in.

Humming to yourself, you begin unloading the things you’ll need from the fridge. Pausing only to pet your presently purring orange kitten, dubbed Frodo by your boyfriend, when you notice that the apartment is still quiet.

There’s no water running.

The bathroom door is still open. Just as you left it. Slowly, so slowly, you walk over to the door, breath catching at the sight of Eddie standing in front of the mirror, fingers tracing over scars. Over the patch of skin over his heart, where it’s the worst, over grooves and ridges of what once was smooth flesh. Trails his fingers lower, to the marks along his abdomen, on his arms. The movements still along his cheek, over the divots you’ve kissed numerous times now. Remember the day you saw him when his eyes first opened in the hospital, and he’d asked you how bad it was.

“Still handsome as ever,” you’d promised, and you’d meant it.

Still mean it now as you knock on the doorframe, jolting him from his slow perusal of his frame. “Are you okay? Didn’t hear the water running.”

“‘M fine,” he says, kicking off his sweatpants for emphasis.

Turns then toward the knob in the shower and sets the water to run hot, fingers lingering under the stream to test the temperature. You open your mouth to speak but he slips out of the bathroom and into your bedroom for a moment. Out the corner of your eye, you watch him retrieve the tablets you left on the bedside table. He swallows them down with a swish of water from the glass laid out, and then returns to your side, where the water now steams up the bathroom mirror.

“Right…I’ll…uh,” you mumble, slipping out from around him into the hallway.

He slowly closes the door, leaving it only slightly open now, and you walk down the hallway. Frodo’s yellow eyes meet yours, and your resolve hardens, feet propelling you back from whence you came. Inhaling deeply, you shuffle inside, calling out into the open space that you’re coming in.

This part, you don’t think about. You strip off your leggings and hoodie with ease. Toss your underwear in a pile with his. He’s quiet as you enter. Those dark eyes of his roam your form, though their usual appreciative and amorous affection is replaced by a hollowness unfamiliar to Eddie’s usually spirited features.

“You’re far away from me right now,” you say softly.

Eddie lifts his head, tangles of wet curls falling loose around his shoulders, rivulets of water trailing down his cheeks like freshly fallen tears. “A lot on my mind, sweetheart. You know…sometimes I forget they’re there.” He gestures vaguely to his chest, waving a hand in front of himself. “And then I catch myself in a damn mirror, and it’s like I’m there all over again. In that fucking dimension, laying on the damn floor, waiting for it all to just…stop.”

“Eddie…”

“It’s hard to not believe you’re a monster like people think you are, when you look in the mirror and might as well be.”

Your hands cup his cheeks, forehead against his. Bodies slick with water, inches apart. More space than you like between you. “You are not a monster, Eddie Munson. You have never been. It’s not in your nature.”

Arms slowly twine around your form. A face against your shoulder, hair brushing your shoulders, his body flush with yours. That distance, that crevice, sews shut in an instant. Comfort comes in the form of his palm along your lower back, in the form of your lips against his shoulder, palms against the middle of his shoulders, holding him tight as the cries of a broken man fill your bathroom. As rain begins to splatter against the window, crystalline shards like diamonds rolling down the pane, the rumble of thunder drowning the blood racing in your ears.

He draws back with a deep exhale, the remnants of his tears visible in the red rims surrounding his eyes. In the shaky inhale, the hiccup that shudders in his chest. Fingers slide up across his chest, over his shoulders, the side of his neck, his cheek. He cradles your palm there, over the space you brush with your gentle thumb. Kisses the inside of your wrist, whispering how much he loves you.

An idea forms.

The hand resting on your face is lowered in the space between the two of you. Your hand flips his palm upward. The fingers on your opposite hand trail his callus scored palms. Tease at the yellowy skin there, at the marks that reveal countless hours of practices. Of time spent honing his craft, trying to make something of himself, trying to be the best at it.

“I love these hands,” you tell him idly. More to yourself, maybe. But he lifts his head all the same. Looks into your eyes as you meet his, the water warm against your back. “They make beautiful music. Music that I’m sure will change the world some day. They write songs. Beautiful songs that mean something. And they write stories. For those kids who absolutely love and look up to you.”

You trail your fingers up along the inside of his forearm. Over the tattoos there. Along his bicep, where you pause. “These arms are pretty great, too.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles at that, and you nod.

“They fix cars and…we know that’s helped me out of many tricky situations.”

Like last week, when you’d had an issue with your car starting and he’d been able to fix it before you were ever late for your shift.

“But they also give the best hugs,” you sigh, sliding up against his chest, relishing in the feeling of them caging you in close. Tight. “They feel like home. Safe. Like nothing could touch me, as long as I’m right here.”

He squeezes you tightly, and you know it’s his way of reassuring you that as long as he has breath in his lungs, you’ll always have somewhere to run to. The safe space in the cradle of his body, a place that he knows you fit perfectly into.

“Don’t even get me started on your cheeks,” you laugh, tipping your head back to press a loud kiss to both of them.

Eddie’s nose wrinkles. “My cheeks?”

“Don’t make fun. They’re adorable. Bite me,” you grumble, pinching at one of them for emphasis. “Really, the whole face is adorable.”

His forehead rests against yours, eyes dark in the dimly lit room, the room growing darker by the minute from the storm rolling in outside. They shift downward as you rest your palm over his abdomen, gliding upward slowly, along scarred flesh, over the parts of him he hates most, until you stop over his sternum.

Over the rapid thrum of his heart.

“I love this heart the most. Because despite everything, it’s kind and loving and warm. And for a minute that day it had stopped and I thought I’d lost everything.” He kisses your forehead as you heave a sob, as your breath chokes off at the memory of him lying on that hospital bed, eyes closed, swathed in bandages, uncertain if he’d ever wake up again even though the doctors reassured you he would. “But then you came back. You came back to us. To me.”

He sniffles, thumbing at your lower lash line as you continue, “And I know you hate this body some days. But I love it. I love it because it’s beautiful and it holds your soul, and…I-I—”

“I love you.” He cradles the back of your head and kisses you.

Once. Twice. Three times.

For each word. Each a promise. Each a swear.

Never to be parted again.

—

He lays against you in silence. His head on your chest, his thighs a tangle with yours, a hand around your hip to keep you close. Bare chests covered only by thin bedsheets. In white linen draped along thighs. You’re not sure what time it is, but time doesn’t exist here. Not right now. Not with him quietly slumbering at last after five days of running from the demons in his mind.

Safe, at last, in the circle of your arms.

Safe and sound, you tell him quietly, fingers combing through his hair.

Safe and sound with you. Here, in this apartment, in your home, where no one can touch you.

Vecna is gone. The kids are okay. Your friends are fine. The world is whole again. The monsters are gone.

He doesn’t have to run anymore.

There will be days like these. The hard ones. More to come in the years that will surely follow. But now, right now, there’s only peace.

And later—later he wakes and kisses you slowly. Softly.

Languid.

Perfect presses of plush lips against skin. He asks you a question. You nod, and he slides the blanket away from your form, baring you to him. Later there’s heat that builds and grows as he trails along the curve of your neck. Over the swell of your collar bone. The valley between your breasts. He divides his attention between your breasts, teasing nips and taunting brushes of tongue and teeth against sensitive skin. Quiet murmurs of praises from his softly parted lips, and peals of pleasure from yours. Fingers knot in hair as he trails lower, as the heat of his tongue glides through the honey of your center, as fingers pull you closer and closer to a precipice. Pulls you nearer as you plummet, planting a kiss against your forehead.

He’s quiet as he rolls over you. As your hand reaches down between the two of you and guides him to where you crave to feel him. Suddenly it’s the comfort of being so full of him that robs you of air. The familiar roll of his hips against yours, fingers bracing one of your thighs over his hips. The slow drag of him; in and out, in and out torturously so, stars bursting behind your vision with each breathless thrust.

Your fracture around him like dozens of stars visible through your bedroom window.

He holds you until sunrise. His chest rising and falling against yours, both of you content and sated.

Cheeks warm, skin warmer.

Tangled as two people could ever be.

And it’s a new day. One neither of you will take for granted.

——

xoxo love you all.

#lunaloveseddie #Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you

[chanspetpigeon]

I’m scared…

Niki x reader

Best friends to lovers, fluff

Wc:480

Warnings: Kiss? (Lmk if i need to add something!)

A/N: Another drabble :) ill make a masterlist tmr :D im trying to write more longer things but i have like 0 ideas pls send requests haha

Masterlist

—————————————————————————————————————————

Your eyes scan the dark room you’re trying to sleep in. You stare at all the creepy silhouettes created by your best friend’s clothing scattered all over the room. You bury yourself deeper into the sheets, eyes squeezing closed.

“You ok?” Riki whispers behind you. You startle at the sudden noise.

“Yeah… ‘m okay…” you whisper back.

“You’re hogging the blanket again…” Riki turns to you and yanks the blanket off of you.

“Rikiiiii… Stop it!” you whine, trying to get under the blanket again.

“C’mon. It’s my blanket! I decide who gets it!” Riki argues back at you, chuckling at your feeble attempts of trying to get the blanket back. You can make out his teasing smile through the endless darkness of the night.

You roll your eyes and turn back around, laying in a fetal position trying to warm yourself back up.

“Hey… I’m sorry, come here,” Riki lays the blanket over your curled up body, laying closer to you.

You peek over your shoulder at him, you can’t resist his sweet smile, so you turn back around draping your arm around his waist.

“I can’t sleep, Riki…” you whisper against his chest. “I’m scared…” you continue.

“Why? What’s scaring you?” Riki asks you, running his hand slowly through your hair.

“I’m just scared of the dark…” you confess, lowering your gaze to his chest, embarrassed to still have such childish fears at your age.

Riki chuckles, petting the top of your head gently.

“What's so scary about it?” Riki asks

“All your clothes everywhere… They look like monsters lurking in the dark…” you whisper even more embarrassed now.

“Mmm… Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll protect you from all the monsters lurking in the dark,” he joked, his hand cupping your cheek, forcing you to look up at his face.

Your cheeks start to heat up at the intense eye contact.

“Seriously, I will,” he further exclaimed.

“T-thanks, Riki…” you say with a sheepish smile on your face.

A comforting silence falls between you two, Riki’s hand still on your cheek, slowly swiping his thumb across it.

“Try and get some sleep now,” Riki whispers to you.

His voice brings you back to reality from wherever your thoughts were wandering off to.

“Yeah…” you quietly say, laying your head onto Riki’s soft pillows and closing your eyes.

“Goodnight, I love you,” the words slip from your lips automatically, used to saying it to your parents before going to bed. As soon as you register what you had just said, you tense up.

Riki chuckles lowly, “I love you too, Y/N,” he says back.

You open your eyes, looking back up at Riki.

He was already staring at you, a goofy smile on his face. He slowly leans down to press a chaste kiss onto your lips.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he says before turning around, leaving you stunned, staring up at the ceiling, processing what just happened.

—————————————————————————————————————————

A/N: hope u like it haha ik its not the best but im just trynna post stuff :)

#niki x reader #enhypen #niki nishimura #nishimura niki #niki nishimura x reader #nishimura riki #riki nishimura #ni-ki x reader #ni ki enhypen #niki enhypen #ni-ki enhypen #ni ki x reader #niki fluff #nishimura riki fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen niki #enhypen niki x reader #Pigeon— Writing