Randomness: A Ripred x reader
Context: you throw on a sheet for your Halloween costume, and adjust it so that you’ve got an outline resembling an Ancient Greek; yes it’s random and yes it’s half-assed, but you think it’s fine, all things considered. Ripred notices.
Ripred takes one look at your costume and snorts, “My, my, what’s this?”
“Oh, shut it.” You pout, flinging out the one, long-draped-sleeve half-heartedly, “I know it looks-“
“Hilarious,” smirks the rat, but he’s sidling closer. “Laughable.”
You start to slump, but then he’s in your face. He plops a loving, obnoxiously sloppy kiss to your forehead-his tail comes around to twirl your tassel, twisting it up in your sleeve: “Mm-wah!”
You splutter, laughing, “Get off,” You’re waving him away. “Back!”
You may have motivated him more, because he’s tipping in again and stealing another kiss, than another, and you put a hand against his oncoming weight-even the little, controlled bit of it he’s putting on you walks the fine line between smothering you with affection and knocking you the fuck over-but he always walks it well, and you’re spiraling into a begrudging fountain of laughter. He gets one off under your ear, slimy, chuckling into your bones-is he drunk, ‘cause he sure seems to be on a high at your expense; finally you pipe up and push in swiftly, planting a gross kiss into the tuft of fur under the dry lines of his scarred eye. You smash your forehead into his to stare into the both of them, wagging your finger playfully, “Stop it!” You tap his snout. “Or I’ll-Well.”
On impulse you seal a kiss against the hard seat of his forehead, comb fingers down his fur to a neat point.
Don’t ask me how you turn and get away from him after that if you’re crazy enough to try to, because a fun (terrifying) little chase isn’t going to happen unless he let’s you (this is Ripred we’re talking about); but maybe he humors you, smiling at you, leaning against the wall, ticking his tail, biding his time.
“10 seconds,” he calls, and you’re already past the stairs. He’s either off at 9, or takes the time to stretch before a go at 13.
If he doesn’t humor you, you’re snatched so fast it makes your head spin-you don’t even know exactly how he did it-only that you’re smushed into him and curled up on the floor-talking, once things calm down, in low murmurs. That’s a romantically-inclined Ripred for you.
