#reading this with dog days on repeat the whole way through | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sp0o0kylights · 2 years ago

Text

Part Two / Part Three

Ao3

It's 8:45 am.

The Red Barn, which is neither red nor a barn, has been open since 7, catering to the early morning crowd with rounds of coffee and pancakes.

It was no Benny's, but given the size of Hawkins and the lack of alternatives?

No one was complaining.

They were all too happy someone had opened up another watering hole for the working class man (or lass, as Foreman Shelly will dutifully remind you) which meant the place was packed with both day and night shift regulars, passing each other in staggered waves.

It also meant Wayne was sharing the packed breakfast counter with a warehouse worker by the name of John Cheese on one side and Police Chief Jim Hopper on the other.

He doesn't mind it.

Wayne's a man on a budget thinner than his shoelace, but he's also a man who understands that small indulgences need to be made in life or you didn't truly live it.

This is how he convinces himself to get a coffee at the Barn after work everyday, reading the morning newspaper and chatting with the other regulars before he heads home.

Bonus, it gets him out of the rapid-fire franticness that is his nephew in the mornings.

(All the love in the world wouldn't change the fact that all that Eddie came with a lot of noise.

The kind of noise that was a tried and true recipe for a headache right after a long shift.)

As a trade off, Wayne went to bed early so he could wake up in time for dinner with Eddie.

It was a nice little system that worked for them.

A routine Wayne was reminiscing fondly on, when the pager on Chief Hopper started to chirp. With a sad moan, the man fished out a few crumbled bills and threw them on the counter, abandoning his coffee to trudge out to his truck.

This was not unusual.

Particularly recently, given they were but a scant few weeks past that whole mall ordeal. A fact all too easy to remember when one caught sight of the Chief’s still healing face.

What was unusual, was when he came storming through the doors a minute later, face now a furious shade of red with his hat clenched in his hand.

The energy in the room shifted, taking on something a little watchful as Hopper swept his gaze from side to side, like a dog on the hunt.

Judging by the way he stilled when he caught sight of Wayne, the latter assumed he found what he was looking for and could only pray it was the person behind him.

(He liked John, but Wayne had enough trouble this year and he wasn't looking for any more.)

"Munson." Hopper called, striding over and dashing all his hopes. There was a choked fury emitting off him, and given the way John audibly scooted his chair away, Wayne knew everyone had clocked it.

"Chief." Wayne greeted, inclining his head towards him.

Idly he wondered what the hell his nephew had done this time.

'So help me if he stole all the town's lawn flamingos and put them in that damn teachers yard again….'

Wayne didn't even get to finish his threat, the Chief was already next to him.

"Mind if I have a word outside?"

Dammit Eddie.

"Ah hell, what's he done now?" Wayne asked with a sigh, eyeing the coffee he had left morosely.

There was still almost half of it left and the pot had tasted fresh for once.

"What?" Hopper said, and then Wayne got to watch as the man ran through an entire chain of thoughts, each one punctuated by things like; "Oh," and "No. "

"This is something else." He finished, flushed and fidgeting, anger making him antsy.

Wayne stared up at him.

"Something else?" He repeated, not sure he heard.

"Yes, something else." Hopper snapped impatiently, before leaning forward, voice dropping low. "This doesn't involve your nephew, but we both know you owe me for how many times I've let that kid off, Wayne. That's a damn big favor I've been doing you and I'm calling it in."

If it were any other cop, it'd sound like a threat.

It was Hopper though. The same Hopper who Wayne had gone to school with.

They'd never been friends exactly, but they had been friendly and remained so. Even now, after Wayne had taken Eddie in, who’d gone on to be an undeniable pain in the local PD’s ass.

Hopper really did let the kid off easy.

Wayne really did owe him.

So he put down his coffee with a sigh, passed his newspaper over to John and stood up, motioning for Hopper to lead the way. Got into the Chief’s truck when he waved him in, and didn’t make a big fuss when Hopper tore out of the parking lot like hell was about to open up under them.

"Not a lot of the kids involved in the mall fire could be identified, but a few of them were." Hopper started, which felt nonsensical given the utter lack of context.

Wayne hummed to show he’d heard.

“Some of them got banged up more than others, and a lot of people wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make it.”

A pause, Hopper white knuckling the steering wheel as he swung the truck hard around a turn.

“For certain people, those kids dying is the preferred outcome.”

A mix of fear and warning swopped low in Wayne’s gut.

"Jim." Wayne said, dropping the use of a last name because if any situation called for it, it was this one. "What exactly are you saying here?"

The Chief chewed on his split lip.

"I know you're smart, Munson. I know you, and plenty of others are aware that something's happening, been happening in this town."

Which was a hell of an understatement if you asked Wayne. Plenty of the upper classes might be able to bury their heads when it came to the military parading about and the flow of “accidents” they brought in their wake, but then, they didn't see all the other signs of trouble.

The absolute oddity that was Starcourt’s construction.

How it had been built using primarily outside crews and anyone who'd taken a singular look at the site could tell you they were building it weird.

Weird as in it looked like it would have a multi-level basement, and not what a mall should have.

Then there were the constant electrical problems. The backups upon backups that failed. The late night delivery vans headed out to the Hawkins Lab.

The things in the woods that kept spooking all the deer and the weird markings they left behind that unnerved even the hardest of hunters.

This didn’t even touch the Russian military that more than one reputable person swore was hanging around.

The very same Wayne himself had seen, on more than one occasion.

(And you couldn’t deny it; those boys were military. Past or present, it didn’t matter. They moved like a threat, and Wayne treated them like one, staying well clear.)

"Yeah." Wayne admitted. "I also know better than to stick my nose in it."

"That makes you a smarter man than me.' Hop complained under his breath, but the anger was self directed.

"The point is, there are some government types crawling around, doing shit they shouldn't be doing, and more than a few of them are in the business of making people disappear.”

This was absolutely not where Wayne had thought this was going.

Hopper took a breath. Than another.

A third.

It was starting to make Wayne nervous, in a way he hadn’t felt since a social worker had brought Eddie to him for the last time and final time. It was the feeling that things were about to shift in a way that would change the course of his life.

"Steve Harrington is sitting in my office right now, beat to absolute shit.” Hopper admitted.

Wayne gave him the floor to talk, letting him go at his own pace without interruptions.

“He's there because some of those government types finally figured out his parents are never fucking home.”

Wayne sucked in a breath.

"We both know his parents, Wayne. Harassing them to come back and take care of their kid won't work, and frankly, I’m beginning to think all the phone lines are tapped anyway.” He winced here, like voicing such a thing pained him, and Wayne understood.

It sounded a little too out there, a little like he was buying into a conspiracy.

Except he wasn’t. Wayne knew he wasn’t.

Jim Hopper might have been an alcoholic, a man living in pain and unconcerned with his own life, but if there was one thing he was solid for, it was shit like this.

He didn’t jump to conclusions. Didn’t believe the first thing people told him. Even at his worst, he did the work to see what was really happening, and made his decisions from there.

(Even if that decision was to accept the occasional bribe, or drive an intoxicated 13 year old Eddie home instead of hauling his ass into the drunk tank.)

“Harrington won’t admit it, but he’s got a hell of a concussion if not a full blown brain injury and he’s not reacting as well as he should to Suites trying to run him off the road.” Hopper continued. Angrily, he added, “Damn kid didn’t even come to me until they tried to break into his house last night.”

His fingers squeezed the wheel so hard Wayne heard the leather creak in protest.

“I’d take him, but my cabin is being renovated from…” He trailed off, heaving a sigh.

“A storm, so me and my kid are bunked with the Byers right now and we’re full up.”

Hawkins hadn't had a storm like that in years, but Wayne wasn't going to call him out on the blatant lie.

“I need a place to stash him for the next few weeks, until I can work with some of the higher ups sniffing around, and get them to call off their attack dogs.”

“And you want to stuff him with me.” Wayne finished.

“I know you don’t have the room.” Hopper admitted easily, stopping his truck at a red light and locking eyes with the other man. “But I also know you’ll be the last place anyone would look for him.”

'Ain’t that the damn truth.'

“You’re really gonna go this far for a Harrington?” Wayne asked, instead of the million of other questions leaping to the forefront of his mind.

This one, he figured, was the most important.

“He’s not his dad.” Hopper said, as firm as Wayne had ever heard him. “He’s not either of his parents, and he saved my little girl.”

Wayne hadn’t even known Hopper had another little girl, but he also knew better than to ask where the guy had found one.

It wasn’t his business, just as nothing else Jim was involved in, was his business.

Except, apparently, Steve Harrington.

“I’m gonna need my own truck if I’m takin' Harrington home.” Wayne said easily, instead of bothering to ask anything else.

If Jim said the kid was different than his daddy, then he was--because when it came to things like that, Jim didn't lie.

No point in it.

“I know. Just needed to talk to you first, without anyone overhearing.” Jim said, before swinging the police truck around and heading back to the Barn.

“I’ll stay in contact with you, and I’ll make sure Harrington pays you for the pleasure of your hospitality. Just--” Here Jim cut himself off, looking like he was struggling an awful lot with the next thing he wanted to say.

Once again, Wayne waited him out.

“Don’t let Steve fool you. He’s good at fooling people, letting them think he’s okay. Too good at it, and between the two of us, I have a real good idea of the reason why.”

A memory came to Wayne unbidden, of Richard Harrington and Chet Hagan, beating some poor kid in the highschool bathroom bloody. The grins on their faces as the poor guy wailed for them to stop.

How they almost hadn’t.

“Alright.” Wayne agreed.

Hopper swung back into the Barn's parking lot, and Wayne moved right to his own beat to shit truck, ready to follow Jim back to the police station.

He wasn’t a praying man, not anymore, but Catholisim wasn’t a thing that let you go easy.

He found himself sending up a quick prayer, fingers flicking in a kind of miniature version of the sign of the cross.

Considering his own kid’s history with Harrington, and the sheer small space of the trailer?

Wayne had a feeling it was needed.

#this has like t wo more parts #pre steddie #wayne as a BAMF #wayne and Hopper both as psuedo parents to Steve #ya'll are gonna have to put up with my weird ass jumping all over the place warm ups sorry lol #Gary's fourth piece is coming no worries #and then this will either take its place or the other one I have will #you CANNOT look me in the eye and tell me all the blue color workers arent aware shits going down #like 100% local crews took one look at starcourt and went what the fuck #nevermind you know the local power plant lol #and with demo critters running around its not like they were tearing through brushes and shit #your local hunters are gonna know somethings up #anyway #beat to shit Steve Harrington #my beloved #hes gonna show up busted to shit with a major grade concussion and Eddie is gonna shit himself #steve harrington #steddie #I spelled collar color and im not changing it #outsider pov #wayne pov #I will write the first person who knows where I pulled John from a prompt of their choice #catholic wayne munson #jim hopper

3K notes · View notes

ariichive · 8 months ago

Text

feeling touch

k. sakusa

sakusa was good at reading people. it was a skill that came with being a good volleyball player such as himself. knowing where to hit a spike, finding the perfect spot for a service ace, and understanding his teammates.

the ability even followed him outside of the court. sakusa found himself observing people everywhere. the couple on the train; the girl had a nervous look on her face as she clutched her stomach, often stealing glances at the man busy on his phone. pregnant. sakusa remembers thinking to himself. the same day, he watched a stray dog on the busy streets of japan circling a busy food vendor.

it was no surprise when the dog snatched food from the owners hands and ran off into an alley way, the curses of the owner blending in to the surrounding noise.

yes; this was all natural for him but not for most people. at least, to him in particular.

people did not understand kiyoomi sakusa.

he think it's his whole demeanor. sure, he might not be the most friendly looking, but he was still human with human normal reactions. he remembers one day after a dominant win against a damn good team.

interviewers flocked to him, fans were everywhere; it was overwhelming. there was nothing more he wanted than to go home, where he could relax after a long match and wait for you to come home from work.

home. he kept repeating in his head, making his way through the crowd. he answered questions simply if they were asked. he was almost through the seemingly never-ending pool of people, when a hand circled around his wrist. sakusa immediately turned around, yanking his wrist out their hand with swiftness. with a glare, he took a step back. a girl with a big number 15 on her shirt. oh, a fan.

"h-hi," the girl spoke in a high-pitched voice. like a dog whistle. sakusa nodded his head in a greeting, eagerly turning around to continue on his way. he wasn't the nicest when it came to fans, but if his fans were really genuine they would understand he did not appreciate being touched.

clearly, this girl was not so genuine.

she grabbed his wrist, again, this time with a bit more force. "w-wait!" sakusa sighed but stopped nonetheless knowing this could go on forever. she squealed when he stopped; his eye twitching. "can we take a picture? please?" sakusa couldn't deny there was a sparkle in her eyes and he feels as if he didn't take a picture her dreams would be absolutely crushed. while he wasn't big on social interactions, he wasn't exactly a monster. "yes, make it quick. please, do not touch me." he managed to mutter out.

the girl quickly stood next to him, a centimeter of distance between them as she whipped out her phone to take a selfie with him next to her. she pressed the button, a 3 second timer starting.

3...

2..

as soon as the timer hit 1, the girl quickly pressed her lips against his cheek.

fear and disgust immediately ran through his body as he shoved the girl, not caring that she ended up on the ground. "never come near me again, you disgusting shit." sakusa meant every word, and he probably would have said more if he wasn't so focused on getting out. pushing throw the crowd, he barely paid attention to the concern looks of bokuto and hinata. if he would've looked back, he'd witness atsumu angrily snatching the phone from the crazed fan.

home. he had to get home.

the journey home was a quick one, he had too much occupying his mind. as soon as he stepped into his safe space, sakusa made a beeline to the shower. a shivering feeling of disgust and guilt taking over him. with the amount of reporters around, you were bound to see the news. he can't believe another persons lips were on him; he could only imagine your reaction. would you be angry? disappointed? disgusted?

sakusa scrubbed harder at his skin.

when he was done in the shower, he still didn't feel clean enough. he had half the mind to go back in, let the burning hot water consume him as a whole. he would have, if it wasn't for the sound of the front door opening. his heartbeat picked up pace, he quickly dried himself and threw on a shirt and sweats. it'll be okay. he reassured himself as he stepped out into the open space of your shared residence.

as he made eye contact with you, he felt a pinch of fear crawl up his spine when you didn't hug him as usual or give him a kiss as a greeting.

you knew.

he felt an apology about to slip out his lips, the guilt weighing on his heart.

"i'm so sorry, omi... atsumu told me what happened."

you said an apology before him, leaving sakusa stunned. why were you apologizing?

noticing his lack of response, you continued. "atsumu told me what happened... i'm so sorry you had to go through that. i understand if you want space to collect yourself, i won't overstep any boundaries."

you understood how dire the situation was; noting how important it was to keep sakusa's feelings in mind. he looked shaken up when you arrived home, so you thought it was best to not add to his discomfort; hence the lack of physical greeting.

sakusa sighed, "..you don't have to apologize. it was my-"

"don't you dare say it was your fault!" you took a hesitant step towards him, and when he didn't move away, you hugged the tall outside hitter; he melted into your arms.

"the only person to blame is that crazy fan, it had nothing to do with you. nobody deserves that to happen to them."

sakusa bathed in the comfort of your words, finally finding the energy to hug you back.

"you're right, love. i'm glad to be home with you."

yeah, you knew this was his way of saying i love you. "i love you too! now let's find something to eat, you must be hungry after that game. ugh, i wish i could've gone! your highlights are trending, the ladies at work..."

he listened to you chatter away, a big smile present on his face.

sakusa wasn't hard to understand, it just took the right people to understand him.

bonus

"whaddya gonna do with this photo?" atsumu stared at the phone of sakusa's fangirl, a look of disgust and hatred taking form. he quickly deleted it as he went to her recently deleted album to ensure it would be gone permanently. he wasn't surprised to see her lock screen was a picture of sakusa, or the number of pictures she had of him in her photos. "oh you're not right in the head," he chuckled mockingly as he stared down at the girl, who tried to get up only to be pushed back down by bokuto. "oops, didn't see you right there." bokuto said almost robotically; everyone knew he was lying as he scratched his neck in boredom.

hinata eventually made his way over. "oooh, a fan?" to any onlooker, it would look like the hyper-orange-haired male had genuine, pure curiosity. but his teammates knew.

"yeah, a fan. huge fan of omi omi, hundreds of pictures of him in her gallery." atsumu said as he slung an arm around hinata's shoulders. he found pleasure in the embarrassed look on her face. she stuttered out lame excuses he didn't bother listening to. "hey, kou, shoyo, since she's such a big fan, why don't we show her an up-close play?"

"hell yeah!" bokuto cheered as he high fives hinata. the obsessed fan could only watch in horror as her phone was tossed to hinata, who bumped it to atsumu, who then set it towards bokuto.

bokuto, feeling a strong sense of defending his friend and teammate, spiked her phone into the floor with a loud cracking sound that echoed throughout the stadium. meian turned a blind eye to his team's antics.

atsumu took out his own phone, taking a selfie. he made sure the crying girl on the ground hovering over her broken phone was in the background.

[sent to (name) 6:48pm]

526 notes · View notes

lassieposting · 1 year ago

Text

I like to think that once things have settled down post-game, Tav will start addressing Astarion's critically low self-everything issues.

Like, this man's obnoxious, vain exterior is a paper-thin sheet of ice over a bottomless lake of insecurities and negative self-talk, and we see that the whole way through the game. He's been taught to believe that his only value is in his body. He'll bitterly call sex the only thing he's good for. He's shocked if you dump another companion for him, because he sees himself as having nothing to offer but baggage. He knows, in an abstract way, that he's attractive, but he doesn't remember what he looks like.

Perhaps one evening he asks what they see in him, and when they ask what he thinks their answer will be, he's stumped by the question.

And Tav decides it's past time to do something about that, because there is so much about him that is worthy of love.

Consider: Astarion rolling out of bed at like noon, padding naked to the bathroom to wash and style his hair, and catching sight of something tucked into the frame of the mirror. It's a sketch of him, one of Tav's, and beside it, they've scrawled the words you're beautiful. He grins, and traces the charcoal strokes with a fingertip while he brushes his teeth, because that's not a difficult one to believe, and he's touched.

But then he starts finding more little sketches, and more little notes. When he reaches for the book he's been reading, there's one tucked into the page he's dog-eared - a little caricature of himself, curled up in an armchair reading a giant book, captioned you're clever. He snorts a laugh, a little self-deprecating. Loathe as he is to admit it, he's no Gale, and he has brain fog more often than not. But...well, he did graduate law school and pass the bar once upon a time, so technically they're not wrong.

You're brave is resting on his pillow when he comes back from splashing his face in the bathroom one night, still trembling from a nightmare. His eyes well up when he spots it, and when he crawls into open arms and buries his face in Tav's clavicle he mumbles that he doesn't feel very brave at all. That's a hard one to accept, but they will keep telling him.

You care about me... is simply sitting on a dresser one day. Two little drawings with that one; in the first, he's bandaging a cartoonish bump on Tav's head. On the back, though...he recognises that image, Tav tied up and spitting rage at him through the night, lost to their Urges, as he kept watch. In smaller letters, his own words are reflected back at him: ...even when that's an objectively stupid thing to do.

You never gave up is in the medical kit kept under the bed, the one stocked with salves and oils for the bone-deep ache of two hundred years of consistent injuries. Tav will rub his shoulders for him if he asks, he knows that. But, well, two centuries of hiding any sign of weakness makes for a tough habit to break. He touches the reminder gently, as though it's fragile, and after a moment's hesitation, calls them in for help.

And on and on they go, dozens of little notes, a tangible list of things they love about him. Repeated, sometimes, some more than others, as and when he needs to be reminded of them. Often accompanied by little drawings that make him laugh or snort or cry - snapshots at how Tav sees him. His ridiculous bedhead. His unflattering blood-drunk expression, gawking into the middle distance, utterly lost in the sauce. The way his ears will sometimes twitch in his sleep. The Sexy Side-Lean pose he didn't realise he tends to do in doorways. His dramatic readings of appalling erotica.

And gradually, he begins to believe them.

#bg3 #bg3 headcanons #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion x durge #tav's drawings are either beautifully done sketches or chibis there is no in between

998 notes · View notes

dimlylittorch · 2 months ago

Text

i’m trying to write my longer fics but this won’t get out of my brain so we gotta write it out

My Masterlist🌱

18+ drabble mdni

(for chubby!pre-op!transmasc!reader’s - warnings: terms like boycunt, pussy, clit, good boy, etc)

steve and bucky being the sweet gay couple next door to your apartment. offering you leftovers from their dinner, claiming they made too much on accident (they actually just want any excuse to see you but we don’t talk about that-)

they seem to be the picture perfect couple ! they have two dogs, a golden retriever and a black lab. They go to the gym together every day in their tight gym shorts, always making sure to flash you a smile whenever they see you (they’ve also developed a habit of hanging out outside shirtless whenever they know you’re there)

They had everything going for them! Great jobs, both healthy and happy, a nice apartment and a sweet neighbor like yourself. And I mean.. even you could tell. They had a great sex life. It was to be expected with how they both look like they were built by the gods themselves. But you.. you had a little extra level of confirmation.

you didn’t mean to listen. I mean really, they were pretty goddamn loud. You were certain they’d gotten noise complaints from other neighbors.. but you never reported them. It was embarrassing- I mean really embarrassing. Listening to the sweet happy couple fuck nasty every night wasn’t exactly a normal thing to do. But honestly? Your masturbating game has been up more than ever. Porn always made you cringe, and reading could only do so much. But having a real performance right next door through the paper thin walls? Christ.

You always made sure to stay quiet- how embarrassing would it be if one day your neighbors had to knock on your door and say ‘hi can you please stop touching yourself to the sound of us fucking?’ You refused to let that happen- even if it meant you had to keep a hand over your mouth the whole goddamn time.

on your knees with your face buried against your pillow, vibrator pressed right up against your clit as you do everything you can to keep your whines to a minimum. It has become a nightly occurrence, listening to the two of them switch between fucking each other. tonight Bucky was on top, and god he knew how to talk.

“god you’re such a slut for it Rogers” he’d groan out, followed by the repeated slaps of his hips against Steve’s ass. It wasn’t hard to imagine what positions they were in, and you always tried to copy them, making it all the better. When you heard Steve whimper you couldn’t help but whine as well, pressing the little toy harder against your twitching bud, legs shaking already. It hadn’t even been that long since they started, but it always got you off quicker than you’d like to admit.

hearing Bucky slap what could’ve been none other than Steve’s ass, you wished you could try to recreate it- but you were terrified of being too loud. Whining weakly into your pillow you turn up the speed of your vibrator, bed shaking slightly from how much your muscles were twitching.

Of course- you had no idea they were super soldiers. they could hear every little buzz of that toy against your clit and god it turned them on. They had never even considered adding a third to their sex life, but hearing how sweet you sounded? it drove the both of them nuts. you never questioned how you always seemed to cum at the same time as them, but it would turn out hearing you getting close helped them along as well.

Bucky fucking wished he could have you in the room with them. His favorite fantasy is having Steve on his back, fucking him hard while you’re on your knees over him. Making you ride Steve while you make out with him, Bucky bending over to eat your ass whenever he got the chance.. fuck it was all he could think about sometimes. And Steve? He was no better. He wanted you to sit on his face while Bucky rode his cock, suffocating him in the best way. Even better if you jerked Bucky off and made out with him during it all.

They weren’t super familiar with being trans, so when they saw it on your Instagram (which they totally hadn’t stalked or anything-) of course they got curious and looked it up. well- let’s just say they ended up watching trans guys getting fucked the entire night and jerking off together to it, imagining you were there to suck and jerk them off.

You were just so goddamn sweet. You always had a smile on your lips when you looked at them, giving them a kind greeting and asking about their day. You were the complete opposite of them.. soft and sweet, a pretty little angel that was just out of their reach. The most perfect boy next door they could’ve ever hoped for.

Imagine the absolute disappointment on their faces when they listened to you bring a guy home- for the first time ever. Steve couldn’t stop pacing as he listened to you suck the random prick off so sweetly. Bucky swears he almost broke something when he heard that asshole make you choke on his dick, almost seeing red when he hears your immediate apologies for not being better. They were absolutely pissed when they listened to how you asked so gently ‘can I kiss you?’ after you gave him head and he replied with a ‘no’, quickly leaving after.

let’s just say you never heard from him again. But that’s probably because Bucky pulled him into an empty alleyway and beat the shit out of him while Steve started cooking something special just for you to hopefully make you feel better. they both had to listen to how you cried for the next hour, asking yourself through tears what you did wrong. it broke both of their hearts, and they just couldn’t help themselves anymore.

when you opened your door with a flushed and tear stained face, you didn’t expect to see your two lumbering neighbors standing in the doorway. And you certainly didn’t expect for them to coax their way inside, telling you how they heard everything and how you deserved so much better. Of course you never would’ve expected for Bucky to sit on your bed, pulling you into his arms and holding your back to his chest, all the while Steve manages to get your pants off, pressing soft kisses to your plush thighs.

And who could’ve guessed that after such a terrible experience with that asshole, you’d have Steve on his stomach licking your boycunt as sweetly as he can while Bucky presses loving kisses to your neck and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. Bucky coaxing off your shirt, followed by your binder. Groaning against your skin when he sees your soft chest, immediately reaching and kneading the plush flesh in his hand.

“so fucking pretty” Bucky groans against your neck as he plays with your chest with one hand, the other undoing his zipper so he can pull his cock out. “Hiding these in that?” He murmurs, gesturing to your binder. “shit.. never thought my soft boy could get any softer” he whispers against your skin as he jerks himself off against your back slowly. if he detects even a hint of insecurity about your chest? he immediately amps up the praise, resting his forehead against your shoulder as he speeds his hand up around his dick, making sure you can feel how hard he is for you. “more of a man than i’ll ever be” he breathes out against your skin as he tweaks your nipples, making sure to soothe the skin afterwards.

Steve lifting his head from his cunt just to ask you to suffocate him, practically pleading for you to squeeze your soft thighs around his head. Bucky asking how you taste, and Steve almost whimpering when he says “the sweetest thing I’ve ever had.” The attention is dizzying- you can’t keep quiet at all, not when two of the most perfect men you’ve seen want you like this.

Bucky can’t help but pull his hand away from your chest, slipping down between your thighs and circling your clit as Steve laps at your tight hole. “oh christ- keep at it buck, makes him leak like crazy” Steve’s muffled voice speaks up as you whine and try to curl up into Bucky’s arms- but they keep you steady.

Face completed flushed from the heat of being in between their two bodies, almost on the verge of tears from how good it all feels. Being held, being kissed- being licked. After all those nights of silently begging that they would come over and fuck you, it finally happened.

Steve gently spanking the underside of your thigh, motioning for Bucky to reposition you. Bucky grabbing your hips and turning you over so you’re on your knees, face in his lap and only an inch or so from his hard cock. His rough fingers gently running through your hair, making you feel all the safer. “You don’t have to” he says softly. “It’s just there if you feel so inclined” he chuckles faintly, a laugh followed by Steve’s. You feel how Steve arches your hips up so you’re on your knees, and you can’t help but whine at the position.

“Let me guess” Steve smirks. “This is your favorite?” He muses as he rubs his large hand along the lines of your back. “You always whine more when we do it in doggy” he says with a small smile. “Figured it was the least we could do for our boy.”

You tense at his words, realizing they could hear you the entire time. Bucky quickly shushes you, slipping a hand down your form with a gentle touch, making sure to keep you steady for Steve. you whine the second you feel Steve’s thick fingers prodding at your tight hole, tentatively pressing inside, getting a feel for how long it would take to open you up properly to fit his cock.

embarrassed with how needy you sound, you attach your lips to the base of Bucky’s dick, making him groan and lean his head back. feeling how Steve squeezes Bucky’s thigh, as if telling him to be good and watch how nice you’re being to him. Bucky steadying himself as he looks down to watch how you try to take care of him. Because of your position you can’t get to the red hot tip, but it makes the teasing all the better as you wrap your tongue around the veiny base.

Steve pressing sweet kisses to your ass and the backs of your thighs as he fingers you, groaning with you as he scissors you open experimentally. “Jesus.. who knew our boy had such a pretty pussy?” He muses to Bucky, making you squirm. Bucky chuckling weakly as his breathing gets heavier from your ministrations.

“I knew it the second I saw him” Bucky replies with a groan. “Steve.. christ you wouldn’t believe the mouth on him” he sighs softly as he runs his fingers through your hair. “Such a good boy.. sucking on my dick like a dog on a bone” he chuckles.

Steve chuckling with Bucky, sinking his fingers deeper into you. “His boycunt is so fucking tight Buck.. it’s unbelievable. Can barely get two fingers in.” both of their hands on you have left you completely dumb, moaning weakly while they use you in the best way.

Steve sitting up onto his knees so he can align the head of his cock with your already messy hole, the tip gathering up your slick easily. Almost crying out from just the feeling of his heavy cock teasing along your lips, so sensitive to his touch. Bucky pulling you away from his dick to make sure you can breathe while Steve presses his tip into you, making you shake with pleasure.

“Ohhh fuck- holy shit” Steve groans instantly, his eyes closing with how nice and warm you are. “Bucky-“ Steve whines slightly, his eyes meeting Bucky’s as he gently rocks himself into you.

Bucky rubbing your back comfortingly while he talks you and Steve through it. “Tell me how he feels” he says softly.

“W-warm” Steve chokes out while you lie dumb underneath him. “he’s squeezing me so good” he whimpers as his hands grip at your sides, scrambling for purchase in your soft form.

Bucky sitting up slightly so he can get a better view, humming appreciatively. “He’s opening up like a little flower” he says softly. “Be a good boy and thank him” he murmurs as he runs his fingers through Steve’s hair.

Steve immediately bending over your form as he sinks into you further, his forearms against the mattress on either side of your head. “t-thank you- oh fuck- you’re so good sweet boy” he whines against the column of your neck. “so good to me” he cries out weakly as your hot boycunt sucks him in more.

Bucky jerking off over the two of you, occasionally slipping a hand under you to tease at your clit, groaning when he feels Steve’s cock slip in and out of you. The three of you going on like that for the next hour, then spending the night together, showering with each other and making sure you feel cared for.

i need to be locked up.. anyways😀🫶

54 notes · View notes

writinginatree · 10 months ago

Text

Zombie

Relationship(s): Xaden Riorson & sister!reader, Bodhi Durran & Riorson!reader, background Xaden Riorson/Violet Sorrengail

Summary: You, Xaden's younger sister and a first-year rider cadet, acquire an undead dog. Now you just have to convince your brother and the Assembly to let you keep it.

Warnings: Set during Iron Flame (so spoiler alert if you haven't read it yet!), swearing, descriptions of (un)dead animals, mention of insects/spiders, brief mention of blood and a minor injury (on Bodhi).

A/N: This is very silly and self-indulgent; if anything doesn't make sense, just pretend it does.

You're so busy planning how you'll get your newfound dog into the house without anyone seeing, that you don't watch where you're going, and — just your luck! — almost collide with your brother as he steps out the door of Riorson House.

"Oh, uh, hi Xaden," you say, hoping against hope he won't see the dog behind you. It's a big, dark-brown mutt, and you really want to get it inside and patched up before having to argue about whether you're allowed to keep it. "Nice day, huh?"

Xaden gives you a look that says he's seeing right through your bullshit, and asks, "What's with the dog?"

Damn it.

"I found it. It's hurt."

You step aside the let him have a better look at the dog and the big hole in its skull that allows a view into the inside of almost the whole half of its head. The ear on that side is half ripped off, too, only hanging on by one corner. Xaden frowns at the dog as it sits down at your feet, rubbing the intact side of its head against your leg.

"Hurt seems like a bit of an understatement."

"Does that mean I can bring it inside and help it?"

"I don't think that dog can be helped anymore. Its head is mush."

"So? Look at him, he's fine!"

The dog stares up at Xaden, wagging its tail as if to agree with you. Xaden stares back — or rather, glares. You don't understand why, but he doesn't seem to like your new pet.

"That thing is dead," he says matter-of-factly.

"Uh... What?"

"It's dead," he repeats.

It doesn't make any more sense than the first time he said it. You would understand him saying something like this if the dog wasn't moving. Laying still on its side as it had when you found it, you had mistaken it for dead at first, too. But now the dog is as lively as can be.

"Don't be ridiculous, Xaden. How could it be walking around if it was dead?"

"How could it not be dead with an injury like that?" your brother counters.

"I dunno. But it clearly isn't."

How can he doubt that, when the dog is so obviously full of live?

"Was it moving when you found it?"

"No. He was lying in the dirt. At first I wasn't sure if he's alive, either, but when I touched him, he woke up. He's not dead, Xaden, he only looks that way because of the hole in his head. If we stitch it up, he'll be fine."

Xaden looks between you and the dog, a contemplative look on his face. "It woke up when you touched it, huh?"

"Yeah. Must have been sleeping or unconscious. You know, I think the hole in the head doesn't even bother him. I mean, I know he's not acting like you'd expect a hurt dog to. Maybe it's normal, do you think? Like, a natural deformity?"

"No, I don't think so," Xaden says slowly, still watching the dog with narrowed eyes. What the fuck is his problem?! "Hard to live with your brain literally leaking from your head. And look at the edges of the wound. If I had to guess, I'd say someone smashed his skull with a rock."

If you're honest, that's exactly what you thought at first too. And if someone really hurt this poor dog on purpose, you're going to find them and kill them.

"Well, maybe his brain is hurt just enough that he can't feel the pain anymore?" you suggest. Your brother might have a point in thinking there's something off about the dog, but it definitely isn't dead, no matter what he says.

"He can't feel the pain anymore because he's dead."

"Why do you keep saying that?! He's clearly fine!"

"No, he's not."

You try to object again, but Xaden cuts you off.

"Half his head is gone, kid."

Of course he has to call you kid now, just in case you forgot that he's older and smarter than you. Ugh. Can't he just admit he's wrong for once? Well, fine. If you can't convince him the dog is alive, then let him think what he wants. It's not like it matters, really.

"Whatever. Just let me keep him," you demand. "Please?"

"How many times, that dog is dead."

"No, he's not!" You have to fight the urge to stomp your foot like a child. Arguing with Xaden is like talking to a fucking wall, and twice as frustrating. "This dog is perfectly alive!"

"This dog is dead, Cadet Riorson," a bewildered healer tells you a little later. "Absolutely dead."

When you kept arguing with Xaden, he finally agreed to let you bring the dog inside — to let someone else convince you it's dead, as it turns out, and not to have its injuries treated as you wanted.

"But..." You gesture to the animal in question. It retreated behind you as soon as the healer let go of it, hiding with its tail between its legs. It looks not only scared, but also very much alive, if you ignore the gaping hole in its head. "How can it be so alive if it's dead?"

"Necromancy," Xaden says from where he's leaning in the doorway, like that explains anything.

You've heard of necromancy of course — the ability to reanimate the dead, an extremely rare signet. As far as you're aware it's been half a century at the very least since there's last been a rider who had it. But on the other hand, what do you know?

"You think there's a necromancer here?"

Xaden nods.

"But why would they revive a dog and then just leave him lying there? I found him all alone in the dirt, Xay! There was no one there!"

"You said you thought it was dead at first, didn't you? It only moved when you touched it?"

"Well, yeah. But what—?" You break off when you understand what he's implying. "You think I'm a necromancer?!"

You don't listen to your brother's answer. As he nods, you reach out to your dragon. "Rexus? Am I a necromancer?"

"Possibly."

"Possibly?"

"How should I know? You could be, that's all I can tell you."

"But it hasn't even been that long since you started channelling. Can my signet really be manifesting already?"

"Certainly. Some are faster than others."

Damn. Can it really be true? You suppose you might indeed be a bit of an early bloomer, and Rexus is certainly powerful enough that a signet like necromancy seems possible. You were alone when you found the dog — the dead dog, who's alive now. The only logical conclusion is that it was you who reanimated it. Still, it's hard to wrap your head around the idea of yourself as a necromancer.

"But I didn't even do anything!"

"Didn't you? Or did you just not realize it?"

You can feel his amusement filling your head. Sometimes you think you bonded the dragon with the worst sense of humor on the entire continent. Watching you struggle seems to be his favorite form of entertainment, and he never gives you explanations about anything, always telling you to figure it out on your own.

"You're extremely unhelpful, Rexus, you know that?"

Xaden snaps his fingers in front of your face, effectively ripping you out of the frustrating conversation with your dragon. "Are you even listening to me?"

"No." You look at the dog again. His head is tilted to the side, so you can't see the hole in it. He looks almost normal from this angle, but now you notice the strange glow in his eyes, like there's a fire burning behind them. Magic? "Rexus is making fun of me."

Your brother shrugs. "Isn't he always?"

Yeah, that's true...

"Hey, Xaden? If I'm really a necromancer and it was me who reanimated the dog, then it's basically mine, right? Sooo... I can keep it, right?" you ask, pouting at Xaden. The dog has sat down by your feet and looks up at your brother too, wearing an expression eerily similar to your own. "Please?"

Xaden crosses his arms and opens his mouth — judging from his expression he wants to say no, but you don't let him.

"Please, Xay! You know I always wanted a dog!"

And you know so did he. You're sure you can convince him.

"But not a dead one!"

"A dog is a dog. And he's alive, even if he's dead! ...Okay, that sounds weird, but you know what I mean!"

"You're a rider. You don't have time for a dog."

Well, at least he's not saying that riders aren't allowed to have dogs. Is there anything about that in the Codex? You doubt there've been many people who attempted to bring a pet into the quadrant, so maybe, if you're lucky, no one ever bothered to make a rule about it. But even if there is — technically you're all deserted. Surely you can be a little lax with the Codex while in the midst of outright revolution, right?

"Sure I do. And he's dead anyway, so it's not like— Wait, do dead dogs need to eat and pee? Probably not, right?"

"I don't think so," Xaden agrees, "but the house is already full to the brim with riders and fliers. We don't need a dog causing chaos on top of that."

"He won't cause chaos. Promise! He'll be the bestest, most well-behaved dog you've ever seen, I swear!"

Xaden glares at you for a few seconds, clearly running out of arguments. Then he shakes his head. "Okay, you know what? This isn't my problem. I'm not even in charge of you. Ask one of your direct superiors if you can keep it."

A grin spreads over your face. You won.

"Bodhi!" You run to find your cousin, the dog right on your heels without you having to give a single command. "Bodhi, I found a dog! Can I keep it? Please! Xaden says I can if you're okay with it."

"That is not what I said," your brother complains somewhere behind you. You ignore him.

Bodhi stares at the dog. "That thing has a hole in the head. I can see its brain."

"Yes. He's dead. But also not. Now can I keep him?"

"Why are you asking me of all people that?"

"Because you're my section leader. And you'll say yes. Right?"

To your dismay Bodhi ignores your question. "Uh, can we maybe focus on the question of why and how you got an undead dog?"

"I found it dead in the dirt," you briefly explain, jumping up and down impatiently. Why can't he just focus on the important things?! "Apparently I'm a necromancer. At least that's what Xaden thinks. So, can I keep it?"

"A necromancer? Wow, that's—"

"Bodhi! Can I keep the dog?!"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure, I guess. But—"

"Thank you," you squeal, pressing a kiss to his cheek before running off.

"Well, she sure has her priorities straight," Bodhi says behind you. You still hear Xaden agreeing, then you're out of earshot.

First of all the dog — your dog, you remind yourself with a grin — needs a bath. And you need to sew his ear back on, and maybe try to close the head wound, too. It might not bother him, but it's annoying to accidentally end up with your fingers in his brain when you pet him. There should still be time enough for a bath before dinner, the rest can wait until later. And when you're done, you'll try and find a collar, so you can put a name tag on it. First you need to think of a name, of course...

The next day you bring your dog to class, earning you more than a few stares from classmates and professors alike.

"What in Malek's name—?!"

"That's Zombie."

"Zombie. You called your zombie-dog... Zombie?"

"Yes, sir."

"Wow. Very creative."

"Thank you."

"That doesn't explain what that thing is doing in here, though. This is Battle Brief, not a dog-sitting club."

"He doesn't like to be alone. Mainly because he drops dead again whenever I'm too far away, I guess. I promise he won't bother anyone, sir, really."

Throughout the day, you keep having to repeat this conversation with every one of your professors. Some, like Devera and the lieutenant colonel, accept Zombie's presence without much fuss. Others insist you remove the dog from their classrooms. By the end of the day it's clear to everyone that a collective decision has to be made, and you're summoned to the Assembly chamber, Zombie glued to your side as always.

Everyone has their eyes on the dog when you step into the room, some with obvious distaste, others merely curious — not all of them have met Zombie yet.

Their meeting seems to have been going on for a while already, and you wonder what other more important things they've been discussing. Judging by how weary everyone looks, you probably don't want to know.

"So... The issue of Cadet Riorson and her dog," Ulices starts.

Seriously? Issue? Now that's an exaggeration if you've ever heard one. Zombie is not an issue.

"What do you even want with that thing?" one of the women asks with a sneer. "It's disgusting."

You crouch down and take Zombie in your arms, covering his ears. "Don't listen to them, Zombie. You're the best."

Xaden, sitting in the fancy chair that used to be your dad's, rolls his eyes at you. "It's a fucking dog. A dead one, at that."

"Dead dogs have feelings too! And anyways," you add, turning to the assembly member who insulted Zombie, "Xaden said I can keep it."

"Hold on, I never said that," your brother protests. "I told you—"

"To ask Bodhi because 'it's not your problem'. And he said yes, so now I get to keep it."

"I never said to ask Bodhi. I just said—"

"But Bodhi is my section leader and he said I can keep it, so—"

One of the assembly members clears their throat, and you both fall quiet. "Could you skip the argument? I don't want to sit here all day."

"Right. Sorry. But since Xaden already said I can keep Zombie," — you glare at your brother, daring him to disagree with you again — "I really don't know why I'm even here."

"You're here because some of us don't like to have a dead dog staring at them while they're trying to teach you," Ulices snaps.

Two others nod. "If you want to play with corpses, do it outside."

Xaden pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "Just let her keep the damn dog. It might not be the worst way to train her signet, and she'll never stop whining otherwise."

"I don't think keeping it is the issue here," Lieutenant Colonel Aisereigh says. "And since it's Xaden's house it's up to him whether she gets to keep it in here or not, anyway. What we need to decide is whether she can bring it to class or not."

After some back and forth, they begrudgingly decide to allow it, on the condition that Zombie stays right at your feet — except during Emetterio's class, where he has to sit in the corner of the gym, and during flight lessons, for obvious reasons — and is absolutely silent so he doesn't disturb class.

"Now, this is under the assumption that the dog doesn't rot. I'm no expert on necromancy, but I think being reanimated should stop the decay. But if it starts to stink, it's getting thrown out, understand?"

You have no choice but to nod, and hope Zombie really won't decay. They dismiss you with another warning to keep the dog out of people's way.

From then on, you spend your every free minute practicing on Zombie. Keeping him alive and under your will comes to you almost naturally, but the farther he's away, the more energy it takes to do so. You work yourself to the edge of absolute exhaustion a few times trying to keep him reanimated from a longer distance, but your signet seems to grow stronger almost day by day, and it doesn't take long until you're able to keep him reanimated even when you're in a different room. Zombie's heartbreaking whines every time you bring him back after losing grip on your power and accidentally letting him drop dead are a great motivator. It still happens sometimes — during flight lessons, where you have no choice but leave him behind on the ground; when you're struggling with math or lesser magic and need all your focus for that; in your sleep — but you're getting there.

You're also getting curious for more. How many animals can you reanimate at once? Would raising a human from the dead be any different than an animal? Would they still have some form of consciousness, or would they be as mindlessly obedient as Zombie is? Will you ever be able to reanimate something as big as a dragon? How powerful is this signet of yours really? There's no end to all your questions, and Rexus is unhelpful as usual. 'Stop asking stupid questions,' he says, or, 'Don't even think of trying that, you silly girl,' or, his favorite, 'That's the most ridiculous idea I've ever heard.'

Then there's the issue with insects. Half of the times you kill a mosquito, it comes right back to life, without you meaning to do that. When you walk past a dead spider laying in some dusty corner, it suddenly comes alive and starts following you around until you notice and stop the power you accidentally let trickle into it. You're pretty sure you would soon have a whole army of dead insects trailing after you if you didn't constantly check for them and re-kill them — an idea Rexus, unlike you, finds absolutely hilarious.

Insects aside, you soon have a growing collection of undead pets. Zombie is the only one you keep reanimated at all times, always at your side; the others have to be content being dead when you aren't practicing with them. The two mice and one bird you have so far don't seem to mind. A good thing, because reanimating all three of them while also keeping up the flow of power into Zombie is far from easy — you don't manage to have them all moving around for more than a few minutes before you tire.

You always stop while you still have enough energy for Zombie; he's undeniably your favorite. Xaden told you it might be a better idea to practice with only the mice for now, and work your way up to bigger animals as you get stronger, but you refuse. Zombie hates being dead, and if you didn't keep him reanimated he would start to rot.

Your brother is away a lot, but when he's home, he's keeping a strict eye on what corpses you're allowed to bring inside. Your bird, for example, has to stay in the courtyard. Not just because Xaden thinks you'd end up wrecking windows and furniture if you let it fly inside, but also because of its advanced decay. How it can even fly with the way its wings are rotting off is a mystery to you, but it's fun to have it follow along during flight lessons, when you can focus all your energy on it, since Zombie is too far away on the ground.

One day when Xaden is away again and can't oversee your collection, you bring in another new pet. Unfortunately, you get caught by Bodhi.

"What have you got there?" he asks, stepping into your path with his arms crossed.

"It's, uh, a bunny?"

You clutch the living corpse closer to your chest, hoping to hide the state it's in from your cousin. Truth be told, it doesn't bear much resemblance to a bunny anymore. 'Pile of bones with a few chunks of rotting flesh and fur' would be a more fitting description. But dead animals don't exactly grow on trees, so you have to work with whatever you can get your hands on.

"You are not keeping that thing in the house."

"But—"

"No 'but'. We both know Xaden told you that you can only bring fresh corpses inside. If it stinks, it stays outside. And this bunny is the worst thing I've ever smelled."

You groan in annoyance. You knew that Xaden had asked Bodhi — as well as Violet and a few of your other friends — to keep an eye on you to make sure you don't drag anything too rotten inside when he isn't there, but you weren't prepared for them to take the task so damn seriously. The bunny does stink, you have to admit that, but you need to practice with something.

"Yeah, but—"

"No."

"But it's the only corpse I could find, and I need more to practice!"

"You can practice with it outside."

"Please, Bodhi, can't—"

"No."

"But—"

"Don't make me play the 'I'm your section leader'-card," he threatens. "If you don't listen to me I'll sign you up for all the worst chores."

"You're mean."

Bodhi shrugs. "Take that stinky thing back outside, then I won't have to be mean."

With a heavy sigh you relent. "Fiiine. But if you happen to find any fresher corpses lying around you have to give them to me."

"Corpses don't tend to just randomly lie around."

"I know. That's my problem. I'm just saying if you do come across any—"

"Then they're as good as yours," Bodhi assures you with a grin.

"Thanks."

You head back outside with the bunny. A glance over your shoulder as you do so shows you Bodhi is watching to make sure you actually take it outside. Damn it. Giving in, you take the bunny to the corner of the courtyard where you're also keeping your bird.

Bodhi makes true on his promise that any corpses he might find would be yours and brings you a dead rat the next week. You've got plenty of rodents already — they're the most common and easiest to find — but you suppose it's better than nothing. You wouldn't want to be greedy, and you're starting to run out of space, anyway.

So far, you've simply shoved the corpses into the biggest drawer of your desk — not the best idea, in hindsight. Since you're not keeping them constantly reanimated, the dead animals are starting to stink. As much as you hate to admit it, Xaden might have had a point when he insisted you're only allowed to bring fresh ones inside. Plus, as winter is descending over Aretia, the cold outside will keep them fresh longer.

Sighing, you decide it's time to relocate your collection — with the exception of Zombie, of course. He's as fresh as he was the day you found him, and will continue to live in your room with you.

"Get back here you little shit!"

You race down the hallway, the newest of your undead animals cradled in your arms, until you see Xaden and Violet coming toward you and quickly seize the chance to take cover behind your brother. He looks back at you over his shoulder, eyebrows raised in a silent question as a barefooted, pajama-clad and very agitated Bodhi comes to a stop in front of him.

"Bodhi stepped on my hedgehog and now he's acting as if that's my fault," you explain. "Can you tell him to fuck off, please?"

Amusement flashes in Xaden's eyes as his attention shifts to Bodhi. "How the fuck did you manage to step on a hedgehog?"

"It showed up out of fucking nowhere! I came out of my bathing chamber and suddenly that stupid thing was there, right under my foot. She sent it to my room on purpose, I know it!"

"Well, of course I did," you say, peeking out from behind Xaden. "But I didn't mean for you to step on it, I swear! I just wanted to show you that I've got a hedgehog now."

"Yeah, well, I noticed," Bodhi grumbles.

You giggle. Probably a bad idea, given his mood, but you can't help it when you think of what just happened. "You should have seen him jumping around on one foot and squealing," you tell Xaden and Violet.

Bodhi's scowl deepens, and he points a finger at you. "Just wait till I get my hands on you, you damn brat," he threatens.

Safe behind Xaden as you are, you dare to stick out your tongue at your cousin, who gives you another glare before turning and going back to his room while grumbling something about you being childish. There's a bloody footprint where he stood, which does make you feel a little bad for him. It really wasn't your fault, though. He should have watched where he was going.

You hold the hedgehog — who certainly didn't enjoy being stepped on any more than Bodhi enjoyed stepping on it — out to Violet and Xaden. "Isn't it the cutest?"

She nods. "Very cute. And it doesn't look dead at all."

"I know, right? It must have died only a few hours before I found it. Of old age, I think."

"You can tell how an animal died when you reanimate it?"

"Well, kind of. I can feel what they felt when they died, if they were in pain, hungry, warm or cold, stuff like that, and from that I can guess how they died. But it's not really exact. Maybe I'll get better at it eventually."

"Oh, I'm sure you will. It's already amazing how quickly you're learning to control your signet."

You smile so wide your cheeks hurt. Being praised like that by a rider as powerful as Violet is doing wonders for your ego.

"Where did you leave Zombie?" Xaden wants to know. By now everyone has gotten so used to the dog being glued to your side that people get confused on the rare occasions he isn't with you.

"He's in my room. I'm good enough to keep both him and the hedgehog under control from this distance now," you proudly explain. "If I go any further away than the staircase he'll drop dead, though. Unless I let go of the hedgehog, that is."

"How many of the animals can you control at once now? When you're in the same room?"

"Uh... All the ones I have. But only over a short time."

Xaden pets the top of your head. "You really are learning fast," he praises. "But what's the hedgehog doing in here, anyway? I thought you're storing all the corpses outside now."

"I am. I just wanted to show it to Bodhi."

A couple weeks later, you're sitting in the snow-covered courtyard with all your undead pets, letting them run in faster and faster circles as you lurk for your brother. When he finally shows up, your minions have him circled in an instant. Xaden is completely unfazed by your antics, merely rolling his eyes as your bunnies, rats, mice, hedgehog, horse and Zombie run around him, kicking up snow, your bird flying circles right over his head.

"I want a human," you declare.

Xaden blinks. "I'm sorry?"

"A human. For my necromancy."

"We just found you a dead horse a few days ago," he reminds you.

"That's boring. I want to know if I'm strong enough to reanimate a human yet. And what that'd be like."

"No."

"Come on! Please!"

"No."

"Why not?! Rexus thinks I'm strong enough to try it!"

"I'm not doubting that," Xaden says, "but just because you can doesn't mean you should."

You sigh, and let your animals stop running around him. They drop dead, except for Zombie, who comes to you to cuddle. In all honesty, this is exactly the answer you expected. You're well aware that disturbing the dead is frowned upon, that necromancers aren't supposed to use their powers on humans — not unless the human consented to it prior to their death. There's even something about it in the Codex, calling it desecration of the dead.

But how are you supposed to test the limits of your signet and grow stronger if you're not allowed to practice on anything bigger? Sure, the horse is a start, but it's still just a horse. And Rexus won't even let you ride it, because apparently that would be both insulting to him, and below your dignity as a dragon rider — emphasis on dragon.

You bury your face in Zombie's fur, inhaling the scent of the flowery soap you washed him with.

"Are you seriously sulking now?" Xaden asks.

"Yes. Will throwing a tantrum change your mind?"

"No. And you'll catch a cold if you keep sitting in the snow, so how about you try behaving like an adult for a change?"

"No." You cross your arms. "I'm bored."

"Lucky you."

"Are you really, really sure I can't have a human to practice on?"

"Absolutely sure. If you're so bored, go to the gym. You've been neglecting sparring practice over your necromancy."

You pull a face. He does have a point — though you're a good fighter, you can never train enough. But you'd rather work on your signet.

"None of the other first-years can keep up with me anyway."

That's a blatant lie — while you really are the best in your year, there are a bunch of other cadets strong enough for you to practice with.

"No one said you have to spar with a first-year. Meet me in the gym in an hour."

Your mood is instantly improved. You don't get to spar with your brother very often, and your chances of actually winning a fight against him are somewhere between slim and non-existent, but you revel in getting to try. Of course you know Xaden knows that, and is taking advantage of it to get you to stop bugging him for a human corpse. For the time being, you'll do him the favor.

Xaden side-steps the dead horse and heads for the entrance. "And don't leave your fucking corpses laying in everyone's way," he calls back over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes at the way he makes it sound as if you're a child leaving their toys laying around. Then again, he's not entirely wrong. You tap into the stream of energy from Rexus, directing it into the dead animals and letting them walk into a corner of the courtyard, where you let them drop dead again.

Rexus was surprisingly silent while you waited for your brother, but now he's asking you to come see him.

"I have a surprise for you," he says when you ask why.

"Did you kill someone for me to practice on?"

You're joking — mostly. With Rexus you can never be sure. He doesn't reply, but you can feel his amusement. When you reach your dragon, there's a brown heap of bloody fur laying at his feet. It almost looks like—

"Is that a bear?!"

"Yes."

"For me?"

"You wanted something bigger than a horse, didn't you?"

"So you went and killed a bear?"

"If you don't want it I'll just eat it," he says with a mental shrug.

"Don't you dare! You can bet your scaly ass I want it!"

You're already reaching for your power to try and reanimate the bear. This is going to be fun.

#xaden riorson x sister!reader #platonic reader insert #xaden riorson #xaden riorson x reader #fourth wing x reader #platonic #sister!reader #Riorson!reader #marked!reader

158 notes · View notes

dark-frosted-heart · 7 months ago

Text

Roger Barel Main Route - Blind Love Chapter 25 His POV

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there

As if time had stopped, the conservatory remained quiet and peaceful.

Moonlight filtered through the soot-stained holes of the ceiling, creating a soft halo around Kate’s hair.

I had brought Kate to the place where I hung out with Alec to show her a “certain something”.

Roger: Wait. I’m positive I left it around here somewhere…

I pulled out several folded sheets of paper from an envelope that was hidden under a flower pot.

Kate: …A letter.

Roger: Like I said, Alec left me a letter before he died. I really wanted to keep it close to me, but… I didn’t want to get stuck in memories.

I didn’t need that childish desire to get lost in memories when I had to deal with fighting against despair every day.

Kate: …You’ve already read it so many times that you don’t need it with you.

Roger: Huh?

(...How did you know?)

Kate: The letter. It’s wrinkled and worn.

I handed Kate, who had always been kind and showed concern for others since we met, the letter.

Roger: Hm

Kate: …Can I read it?

Roger: Since it’s you, I want you to read it.

I wanted Kate to know the secret I’ve been keeping to myself.

Kate: Thank you…

��To my little friend, Roger”—that’s how the letter started.

It then went on about how if anything happened to Alec, he wanted me to forget about him and the research on the Cursed he had done here. And—

“Hey, Roger. The world we live in is very cruel, isn’t it.

It’s full of things beyond our control and our hearts bleed out just by being alive.

But I also think the world we live in is beautiful.

The sky’s blue when you look up, the birds sing, and sometimes someone will find hope that’s like a miracle.

The world is cruel, yet endlessly beautiful.

That’s why the world is worth living in and fighting against despair for.

My dear little friend, you will no doubt encounter despair in the future. However, don’t let yourself be defeated.

Your life will always be beautiful.”

Kate looked up at me from the letter, her gaze sweet and gentle.

Roger: Those words saved me, and I’ve been living by them my whole life. With those words, I’ll be fine. I can fight against despair even when I’m by myself. I’m strong, I won’t be defeated, I won’t be lonely, I won’t let my soul rot, and I’ll fulfill my ambition. That’s been my mantra until I met you.

Kate: …Huh?

The way Kate blinked in confusion was so adorable that I found myself smiling.

I didn’t want to succumb to my curse, so I always repeated to myself “I won’t be a traitor” as if to fight against my “betrayal” curse.

However.

Roger: I’ve always claimed that I’d never betray anyone, but maybe I’ve…been betraying my own heart.

(Stubbornly saying “I won’t be a traitor” may have been a way for me to ignore my true feelings)

(I’m almost sure)

Roger: Deep down in my heart, I’ve been searching. For someone I could laugh with by my side.

(Kate became my dog, assistant, partner, and then lover)

Roger: Someone to chase after my ambitions with.

(Kate is with me now)

Roger: Someone to snap me out of it when I’m falling into despair.

(Like the time she yelled at me in jail, I think…No, I don’t think I’ll ever forget about it)

Roger: Someone to teach me that, even if love’s pointless, it’s the best.

(This unidentifiable feeling called love definitely exists between us)

Roger: That “someone”—there’s no one else but you, Kate.

(Kate, I don’t want anyone else but you)

Kate: …

Roger: …I won’t find anyone else in the world.

I loved how Kate looked when she tried to hold back her tears.

Roger: Pfft…haha. What’s with that cute face?

Kate: As you can see, I’m trying to hold back my tears!

Roger: A~ah, I can’t take you seriously when you’re barking like that.

Roger: Pfft…Alright, alright. Hang in there.

Kate: Please stop talking already…

Kate looked up, trying to stop the tears from pooling at the corner of her eyes. But—

Roger: Not gonna. I still got something to say to you. ‘Til now, I’ve been saying some pretty words with love, but… My main reason is that “I” enjoy being with you.

Kate: …

(“I” only wanna be with you. Until the day I stop breathing)

When Kate blinked in surprise, the tears she tried to hold back spilled out.

Kate: If you say something like that, then…waaahh~~

Any place where Kate cried cutely like this felt like the kindest, most peaceful place in the world.

Roger: With you, the world isn’t such a shitty place.

(Kate, I can’t abandon this shitty, yet beautiful world I live in when you’re in it)

(Even when against despair…I think that’s what makes this worth fighting for)

Kate: Roger…

Roger: Hm, what?

Kate: Roger, Roger, Roger!

Roger: What?

With her face still wet with tears, Kate jumped into my arms with everything she had—

Kate: Roger, I love you!

(...Yeah, I know)

(I love you too. I know because you taught me what love is)

Roger: A~ah, your face’s all wet. You really are so cute!

While holding Kate tight, I teased and spoiled her.

(A~ah, damn. I don’t think I’ll be content with life without her.

(Despair will always come after us because life isn’t kind)

(Because hope isn’t easy to come by)

(But still…)

Kate: Roger, you can keep teasing me all you want. You can bully me. You can do whatever. But promise me. That we’ll keep living together until the very end.

Roger: ……Yeah.

(Let’s give despair the finger and live together for as long as life lets us)

As if making a vow for the future, I stole a kiss from Kate and looked into her eyes.

Roger: I’m gonna push you around so much you’re gonna hate it. And that’s for life.

Kate: *sniffle*…Crying made me hungry…

(That wasn’t sexy at all. But maybe I’m crazy ‘cause I found it cute)

I couldn’t help but laugh when I felt this unscientific, but lovely feeling rise up in my heart.

Roger: Yeah, me too. Having you in my arms’ tired me out. So…

Kate and Roger: Let’s go eat.

—The conservatory was empty, except for the sound of laughter left behind.

Destiny, unrealizable dreams, incurable disease, war, poverty…

It just goes on.

This world’s a bargain sale of despair.

And it’s called “despair” because you can’t do anything about it.

However, that’s not something I’ll allow.

If you can’t overcome despair— then what’s the point of me, of us humans, being born?

That’s why…these days, we live our lives giving it the finger.

With the one we love.

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil jp #ikevil translations #roger barel #ikevil roger #ikevil roger route

50 notes · View notes

profoundbondfanfic · 5 months ago

Text

"Can we get a dog?"

"Can we get a dog" by Trenchcoat_Paradigm Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 15.8k

Those 5 little words plague Castiel’s life. Every day since the ridiculously handsome man and his dog moved in across the street his son Jack has begged his father for a dog. But it seems they may have gotten more than what they bargained for when a small Miracle finds his way into their yard and luck truly falls into their laps. Or The one where Jack gets his dog and Castiel gets his man.

I think I’ll always be a little sad that canon didn’t give us baby Jack, so I’ll always read a fic with Jack as a baby, or in this fic’s case, a five-year-old. This kid version of Jack is so cute and very determined to talk his single dad Cas into getting him a dog, all thanks to the handsome stranger and his adorable dog who move in across the street.

At first, they only exchange a friendly wave or two when Dean takes Miracle for her walks, until one night, Cas gets an unexpected visitor on his front porch. I don’t want to give away the whole thing, but what transpires brings the two men closer, close enough to warrant repeated meetings at the park so Jack can play with Miracle, and helpfully, Dean and Cas can become friendlier.

I loved this fic because it’s clear both men are harboring major crushes on each other, even though the fic is only told through Cas’s POV. Dean’s never great at hiding his feelings, but having his helpful bestie Charlie show up and immediately know who Cas is is absolutely perfect and hilarious because we all know Dean’s been yapping to her about the hot dad across the street from his new house.

Don't miss this cute story!

#destiel #fic rec #10k to 30k #general audiences #au #modern setting #as parents #domestic #fluff #neighbors #Can we get a dog #author: Trenchcoat_Paradigm

46 notes · View notes

allthingsfangirl101 · 8 months ago

Text

Running Lines – Joe Keery

I was in the middle of a paper for my class when there was a spastic knock on my door. Slightly closing my computer, I got up from the couch and went to answer it.

"Joe?" I asked when I opened the door. "What are you doing here?"

"I need your help."

I gasped when he walked past me. "Oh," I said under my breath. "Okay then. Come on in."

I closed the door and walked back inside. Joe was pacing back and forth in front of my TV with his eyes glued to a script. I walked over and laughed when he bumped into me.

"What is going on?" I laughed.

"It's this scene," he sighed. I grabbed the script out of his hand and read through the scene he was freaking out about.

"Is this. . ."

"The scene where Keys records his confession to Millie," he sighed as he collapsed onto the couch.

"Okay," I said slowly as I sat down next to him. "Joe, you've done scenes like this before."

"I know!" He said, throwing his hands up in defeat. "But for some reason, I just can't get this right. That's why I'm here. I need your help, Y/N. Please help me."

"What do you want me to do?" I stuttered.

"Just listen," he shrugged. "And tell me whether or not it's believable."

"Okay."

He jumped up and started reciting his monologue.

"Now, from the beginning, Guys' behavior is much more complex than it should be, thanks to our code. But he's still stuck in Free City. He's still stuck in this life, this loop. And then, something changes. He comes to life. Why? And then I remembered. One of the characters from Life Itself was this guy that I nicknamed Lovelorn. And he was someone who was designed to never meet the right person. It was essentially the building blocks of the character. But he never stopped hoping that he would meet the girl of his dreams. So I had to base this girl off of someone and who better than the person that I was sitting next to every day? You. But then, one day, he meets you in Free City, and once he sees you. . . He can never be the same. He was supposed to feel doomed, but instead, he feels alive. Until eventually, he is alive. You changed him, Millie. You changed his code. And I think you can do it again. You brought him to life, Millie. And he was alive because he met the one person he'd been waiting for his whole life. And I had to make it realistic, so. . . I based it off of. . . You. The woman of his dreams. . . She was the same as mine. So she liked bubble gum ice cream and swing sets and she had this very cute but oddly specific habit of always humming this classic Mariah Carey track. Like all the time. She would repeat. . ."

I waited for him to continue, but he didn't. "Is that it?" I asked, my voice coming out soft.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "She turns the video off and runs to me outside a coffee place. So, how was that?"

"It was good," I shrugged.

"But was it believable?"

"Not really," I said dropping my voice.

"I knew it," he scoffed as he sat back down next to me. He looked down at his script and I wrapped my arms around myself when I got an idea.

"What if. . ."

"What if what?" He pushed.

"What if, instead of thinking about Millie, you think about someone. . . Real? Someone you genuinely care about? That way, the emotion is more likely to be real."

"That's a great idea!" Joe cheered. Suddenly, his face changed.

"What's wrong?" I asked slowly.

"I like your idea but there is something else I could do."

"Okay. And?"

"What if. . . I was thinking that if I was able to say this to someone, I might be able to get it," he explained with his famous Keery Puppy Dog Eyes.

"So I just have to sit here while you confess your love to me. I mean, to Millie," I corrected quickly. I cleared my throat before adding, "I guess so."

"Thank you," he chuckled. Tension suddenly filled the room as he grabbed my hands and turned me more toward him.

"Now, from the beginning," his voice was quieter this time, "Guys' behavior is much more complex than it should be, thanks to our code. But he's still stuck in Free City. He's still stuck in this life, this loop. And then, something changes. He comes to life. Why? And then I remembered. One of the characters from Life Itself was this guy that I nicknamed Lovelorn. And he was someone who was designed to never meet the right person."

I held my breath when he paused. The tension that filled the room earlier thickened.

He cleared his throat and continued, "It was essentially the building blocks of the character. But he never stopped hoping that he would meet the girl of his dreams. So I had to base this girl off of someone and who better than the person that I was sitting next to every day? You. But then, one day, he meets you in Free City, and once he sees you. . . He can never be the same. He was supposed to feel doomed, but instead, he feels alive. Until eventually, he is alive. You changed him, Millie. You changed his code. And I think you can do it again. You brought him to life, Millie. And he was alive because he met the one person he'd been waiting for his whole life. And I had to make it realistic, so. . . I based it off of. . . You"

My heart jumped into my throat when he leaned in and he whispered, "The woman of his dreams. . ."

I gasped when Joe gently pressed his lips to mine. My mind went everywhere as we kissed. It wasn't a fast or intense kiss. It was hesitant and simple.

"She was the same as mine," he whispered when he broke the kiss.

"That was better," I stuttered. "So now just imagine doing that when you film. . ."

I cleared my throat and tried to lean away from him. Before I could, Joe grabbed my face with both hands and brought his lips back to mine. This time, the kiss was different. It was faster, more desperate. It was as if we were trying to tell each other something. Joe slowly broke the kiss, causing me to let out a soft moan.

"Joe," I whispered.

"I'm sorry," he said with a weak laugh. "I was just. . . Saying those lines. . . And looking at you. . . It felt real. Is that crazy?"

"No," I said, my voice softer than I would've liked. "It's not crazy because. . . It felt real for me, too."

With a smile on his face, he reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

"I never thought I'd fall in love," he whispered. "But then, I realized I was already in love. With you. I've been in love with you for so long, Y/N. Every romantic scene I do, I think of you. Every time I have to tell a girl I love her, I think about you. I always think about you."

I grabbed his face and pressed my lips to his. He smiled against my lips as he grabbed my waist, pulled me closer, and kissed me back. We let out matching giggles as he laid us down, him hovering over me.

We got lost in the kiss as we brought our bodies as close as we could without taking off our clothes. Joe broke the kiss and started kissing my neck.

"Oh Joe," I moaned. "I love you too."

"Say it again," he growled into my ear. He pulled away, only love in his eyes as he stared down at me. "Please, Y/N," he said, his tone different. "Say it again."

"You are my first love," I told him. "You are the only man I've ever loved. You are the only man I've ever wanted to love me back."

"I do," he said, not hiding his desperation for me to understand. "I love you back, Y/N."

"So you've said," I smirked. I grabbed his face and brought his lips back to mine. I let out a moan as Joe instantly pushed his tongue into my mouth and started exploring.

Suddenly, Joe broke the kiss and looked down at me. "Y/N," he whispered, "can I take you on our first date?"

"As long as we don't have to keep running through lines."

Joe smirked as he leaned down and kissed me again. When he broke the kiss he was still smirking.

"No promises."

#joe keery #joe keery imagines #joe keery free guy #free guy

65 notes · View notes

radfemreader · 1 month ago

Text

Book Review: Who Cooked the Last Supper? The Women's History of the World by Rosalind Miles

I read this with my feminist book club in spring last year. (Although the book club fell apart a few chapters in - might this have been the book's fault? (it wasn't))

This book is "The Women's History of the World" as the subtitle puts it. The author endeavors to reframe commonly held beliefs about history to center women and remove the bias of (male) historians. She starts with prehistoric times and continues through to almost modern day.

Unfortunately, I absolutely hated this book and I'm shocked that it is recommended as often as it is. Within the first chapter, there was an anecdote that interested me, so I did some additional research and could find nothing that supported the author's assertions. As I continued reading, I kept researching little bits that struck my curiosity and multiple times discovered inaccuracies such as the author presenting myth or opinion as fact, misrepresenting sources, etc. to support her narrative.

For example, she describes an archeological rock carving as depicting a woman being attacked - I looked it up wanting to see pictures, and both personally would never have interpreted it that way and could find no where on the internet where anyone else had ever interpreted it that way. Perhaps Miles just had a different opinion, but she stated it like fact and didn't present any justification.

Another example, she cites Voyage of the Beagle by Darwin for the fact that the native people of Tierra del Fuego would resort to cannibalism of their women before they would eat their dogs. That immediately seems like racist falsehood, so I looked it up. It was supposed to have been said by two native boys who had previously been taken by the Europeans. Within the same chapter Darwin wrote that it was impossible to get reliable information from these hostages and elsewhere calls one of the boys a known liar, so any reader using this source should see the cannibalism is unlikely to be true, and any further research would find multiple more trustworthy sources saying that it is not. I have to consider Miles' choice to repeat this this "fact" either willful misrepresentation and racism, or incompetency.

There are more, but I also couldn't keep researching every factoid. I just lost my trust in what the author was reporting to me and took the whole book to be questionable.

Beyond that issue, I also found the structure of the book to be disjointed and confusing. It's roughly chronological, but also by theme, and I couldn't keep track of what was happening at the same time in different places. It's an insanely huge undertaking to look over the entirety of history, and yet somehow the book felt very repetitive. She writes with a casual ("witty" as reviews put it) voice that I found grating. The first half drags, it picks up in the middle, rushes through the last chapter, and then just - stops. No conclusion, no reflection, just an abrupt (but welcome) end.

I will caveat my negative experience with a few things. I've never been especially interested in history, in part because I don't like the ambiguity that comes from interpretation of artifacts and limited records. Since I don't read much history, I'm not sure if some of the things I didn't like are really more about the genre than this book specifically. Also, the book was written in 1988, so perhaps there are things that were fine at the time and are just out of date now - although it was reissued in 2001 and the opportunity to make updates was not taken.

In summary, I recommend this book to no one. I found it inaccurate, racist, and poorly structured. I acknowledge that maybe there is some merit here that I didn't fully appreciate. If you're someone who did like it, I'd love to hear why. As it is, the only way I can understand the success and praise of this book is that the concept is so strong - people really want to read the women's history of the world, and I'm not aware of any other book that attempts to deliver it. Perhaps though, it's not a concept that is possible to do well in the length of a single book.

#my reading #Who Cooked the Last Supper?#Rosalind Miles #Book reviews

21 notes · View notes

itsnotzka · 25 days ago

Text

Hi diddly ho!

This is just a small, simple piece. It was originally meant to be a bonus chapter for another story of mine, but somewhere along the way (two damn years later lol), I changed my mind 😌 But I finished it, thanks to that!

No warnings, no spoilers.

Read the whole thing on Ao3:

(or here, under the cut ↓)

“I have no idea how you do it,” she murmurs, her voice seems to smooth away the edges of my wandering thoughts.“When you make coffee, it tastes different.”

The cold floor bites at my bare feet, a contrast to the warmth coiling up from her steaming mug. Morning sunlight spills through the window in golden ribbons, dust motes drifting lazily in their glow. A distant car horn blares once, then again. A dog barks. The coffee machine clicks off. The tiles are freezing. Why am I barefoot? I don’t like being barefoot.

“Different?” I echo, dragging my focus back to her. “Different how?”

Her lips curl downward in a small, almost imperceptible frown as she taps her chin, lost in thought.

I notice she’s wearing my shirt. It hangs loosely on her, and the dark fabric seems to deepen the color of her eyes—like the sky just before a storm. I wonder, does she choose my shirts because she likes them, or simply because she knows I do?

What did she really mean by ‘different’?

Another bark, this time louder. That’s the neighbor’s dog, isn’t it? The one that doesn’t like me. Why doesn’t she like me? I tried to be nice. I even offered treats once. Perhaps she senses I don’t quite belong here. Somehow, even in this familiar neighborhood, I can’t shake the feeling of being an outsider.

“Different,” she repeats with a chuckle, then hums as she takes a slow sip. “Good different. Makes me want to make you make me coffee every day.”

I laugh at her words. Her eyes twinkle over the rim of the mug like little galaxies caught in the morning light. Wasn’t I meant to take out the trash? My feet protest the cold floor with every step, and the pale tiles shimmer in the morning light. I pause as the chill reminds me to find my socks. Did I even turn on the heating?

I should remember about the trash.

Galaxies. They’re still staring at me.

“Oh?” I drag out a chair to sit in front of her.

I freeze before I do. Coffee. I had a cup of coffee, too. I glance around the kitchen.

Why do I always lose my coffee?

The dog barks once more. Does she sense I’m thinking about her? Why exactly doesn’t that dog like me? Other dogs don’t mind me. Maybe it’s the neighbors. Maybe it’s because I blocked their car once. I apologized, didn’t I? Does a sincere apology not count for anything these days? Maybe I should’ve brought them cookies. Do they even like cookies? What if they’re allergic?

“Looking for this?” Her voice suddenly draws me back.

I blink, focusing again on the present.

She nods toward the coffee machine. Right next to it, my mug sits, steam curling from its surface like a smug little specter.

Logical, isn’t it?

I exhale sharply. “Right! Thank you,” I laugh, reaching for ir. “Sneaky little devil, always hides from me.”

“For sure! Remember to never underestimate the power of a cup of coffee, hun!”

I tip the mug a little too much. Coffee spills over the edge, splattering onto the cold tile, some onto my bare feet. I groan, doubly annoyed—first at the mess, then at my lack of socks. Though maybe it’s for the best. Wet socks are a special kind of hell.

Like the one reserved for people who talk in theaters.

The stain spreads, seeping into the grout like ink bleeding across a page. A Rorschach test in shades of caffeine. What does it look like? A bird? No, a dog. Neighbor’s dog. Maybe the vague outline of some country. If I tilt my head—

I step forward and plant my foot directly in the spill. Warm liquid squelches against my skin.

Fantastic.

With a sharp exhale, I set my mug down and grab a paper towel, swiping at the floor in a few quick motions.

Somewhere in the background, she hums. A soft melody, half-formed, like a thought slipping just out of reach. I know that song. I know it, don’t I? What is it? It’s on the tip of my tongue. No, not my tongue—my brain . Or maybe both. Can something even be on the tip of your brain?

I crumple the paper towel and move to toss it. The trash can groans open. It’s full.

Of course it is.

Remember. The damn. Trash!

With a sigh, I lower myself onto the chair across from her. She watches me over the rim of her mug, one brow slightly raised. That look—amused, but knowing.

She reaches for my hand, pats it gently. Her skin is warm, smooth against mine. Then, still humming, she stands and drifts toward the counter.

Right. My damn coffee.

I sigh again. She just smiles, winking.

Apparently, it’s one of those days, where everything seems to slip away.

"Isn't that yours?" She sets the mug in front of me.

I offer a tired, bitter smile but only nod, wrapping my fingers around the warmth.

I take a sip—too hot. It burns my tongue just enough to be annoying, and I don’t react fast enough to stop it. That’ll bother me all day. Or five minutes. Hard to tell.

She’s still humming. I know that song. I should ask, but I don’t. I don’t know why.

I want to figure it out on my own.

The air smells like coffee and sunlight. Can sunlight have a smell? Not really. But I swear it does. Warm, golden, like something familiar, something comforting. Maybe it’s just dust warming up in the beams of light. Isn’t it too much dust, though? I should clean the apartment.

Didn’t we just clean?

‘Just’ is an exaggeration, I realize. It was over a week ago.

She shifts in her seat, pulling her legs up, knees to her chest, mug cradled between both hands. She always holds her coffee like that. I wonder if it’s for warmth or just a habit. I wonder if she even notices she does it.

“What?” she asks, eyes crinkling with amusement.

“What?” I echo.

“You’re staring with that look of yours. Like a deer in the headlights.”

Oh. I am.

“I—” I start, but the words don’t show up. They scatter before they reach my tongue.

I lift my coffee again. Cooling now, but still warm.

“Just… admiring the view,” I say, half-joking. Except it isn’t a joke at all.

She snorts, shaking her head. "Smooth."

A flicker of a smirk, barely there before she hides it behind the rim of her mug. The shirt, my shirt, slips off one shoulder as she shifts, and just like that, my thoughts derail completely.

The way fabric folds. The way collarbones look in morning light. The asymmetry of it all. One side bare, the other covered. Isn’t asymmetry more interesting? Almost symmetrical but not quite—does that make something more beautiful? Or unsettling? And why? I should Google that later.

I wanted to figure out something else, didn’t I?

What was it?

Oh. Right. The song.

"What are you humming?" I ask before I think.

She blinks. "Huh?"

"The song. You’ve been humming it for the last five minutes."

Or longer?

"Have I?" A pause, then a soft chuckle. "No idea."

I swallow hard. No, no, no.

That kills me. My whole body protests the lack of an answer. Now that I know she doesn’t know, it starts driving me insane.

It’s stuck in my head now—the melody I know but can’t name.

Another sip of coffee. The warmth is nice. Comforting. It does taste good.

She tilts her head, watching me. “You okay?”

I nod. A little too fast. A little too mindlessly. “Yeah. Why?”

“You just…” Her gaze softens. “You look like you’re somewhere else.”

I chew on that. She’s not wrong. I’m always somewhere else. And right here. And nowhere, all at once. Like my brain is a crowded room with too many conversations happening at the same time, and I can only half-listen to each one. Too many things to think about, and the seconds are so short.

I shake my head, as if that’ll clear it. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

Loaded question. About everything and nothing all at once—the smell of the air, the half-remembered song stuck in my head, the chill of the tiles beneath me, the existential dread of forgotten Google searches. The fact that I still haven’t taken out the trash. How my tongue still tingles from the too-hot coffee.

How do I even explain that? It’s physically impossible.

So I just shrug. “Just… stuff.”

She laughs—quiet but knowing. Her fingers brush against mine. “That’s a dangerous pastime, isn’t it?”

I exhale a small laugh through my nose.

She reaches across, tracing slow circles over my knuckles with her thumb. Soft. Warm. The noise in my head doesn’t stop, not entirely, but it dims it, like a radio turned down instead of off.

My coffee is the perfect temperature now, that fleeting sweet spot between scalding and lukewarm. I savor it.

Then—like a stray lightning bolt—clarity strikes.

“Hurry, Hurry.”

She blinks. “Excuse me?”

“The song,” I say, triumphant. “It’s ‘Hurry, Hurry’. Air Traffic Controller, isn’t it?”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “It is?”

I nod, grinning.

Her eyebrows lift in surprise, then she lets out a soft laugh. "Oh, yeah... I guess so. I’d never know! Must’ve heard that one from you the other day."

I exhale, relieved. The damn itch in my brain is soothed. The mystery is solved. No more nagging sensation, no more half-formed thought lurking just out of reach. A small, ridiculous victory, but still—a victory.

The world outside still stirs. Another honk, a door slamming, the faint murmur of a passing conversation. The neighbor’s dog, ever-vigilant, yaps twice, as if to remind me she’s still there. Still hating me.

I’m a cat person, anyway.

I take another sip of coffee, stretching out the moment of this unexpected peace.

Maybe that’s what I’ve been missing. The moments in between, the ones that don’t shout for attention but still matter. I should focus on that. The way coffee tastes in the morning. The way her voice lingers in my head even after she’s stopped speaking. The way she looks in my shirts. The way days feel softer with her in them. The way she never judges me.

Well, except for the occasional muffled laugh when I bump into a doorframe. Or that slight flicker of disapproval in her eyes when she realizes I’ve forgotten to eat.

I should tell her that. Not now, but sometime.

She shifts, stretching her legs out under the table until her toes brush against my foot. A small, absent-minded thing, but it makes me smile.

“Yeesh!” She gasps, jerking back. Your feet are freezing!”

“Are they?” I chuckle, wiggling my toes. Or trying to, at least. I can barely feel them. “Didn’t notice.”

She shoots me a knowing look, equal parts unimpressed and amused. Maybe she can read my mind? Some of it, at least.

Then, with a clink, she sets her coffee down and leans in, propping an elbow on the table.

“Oh, honey, before I forget,” she glances at me. “Did you remember to take out the trash? It’s been full for two days now.”

Shit.

#duskwood #duskwood fanfic #Jake's POV #fanfiction #duskwood jake #writers on tumblr #jake duskwood #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood jake x mc

19 notes · View notes

twisted-tales-of-all · 8 months ago

Text

Until We Meet Again

Summary: Although San is left alone to watch the shrine after his friends move onto the next plane, he faces someone who reminds him of his past love. Pairing: Naga!Choi San x afab!reader Genre: Fluff, one-shot, event, rated PG Tropes: reincarnation, fated lovers Word Count: 3.5K Contains: discussion of death and past lives, sense of not belonging due to bullying/othering (essentially racism) A/N: Apologies for the lack of banner and poor editing. I've been in quite a slump recently, but wanted to ensure I finished up this piece for the spring event. Please check out all the other pieces submitted as well!

Although he's grown accustomed to the lack of visitors, San finds himself exceptionally bored as the cold weather melts away into the beginnings of this spring. Decidedly, he exits his usual post within the forgotten shrine for a walk in the nearby gardens. Despite donning his human form, people can clearly tell that he's different. Feeling everybody's judgemental looks, he tries his best to focus on the well-trimmed stylized bushes and the pruned bunches of flowers that dared to bloom this close to winter's edge.

"Mommy, why are his eyes like that?" A child asks far too loud for their mother's liking, who rushes away with them quickly.

With a sigh, San brings a hand to his temple. Immediately greeted by the cool touch of scales, he only grows more frustrated by the clear differences between him and the humans. Despite his intense respect towards the deity who made him their shrine guardian, he cannot help the feelings of resentment in giving him this specific form. So often, guardians get beautiful animal forms - cats, foxes, dogs - but his deity did not follow these typical choices. Instead, San got the powers and form of a snake. Thanks to various stories about evil snake monsters - Quetzalcoatl, Leviathan, nagas, lamias, gorgons, etc. - most humans steered clear of the shrine for fear of a malevolent deity.

Finding his attempt at a calming walk frustrating, San turns on his heel and heads back towards his home, unaware of the pair of curious eyes watching the whole ordeal. Unlike the judgemental glares of most people in the garden, you look on with an almost naive sense of genuine curiosity. You've heard stories of the guardian spirits of shrines, but this is your first time seeing one. Guided by your urge to learn more about the stranger, you secretly follow his path to the shrine. You witness him drop his human disguise to reveal a far more snake-like appearance before phasing through the closed panels of the shrine, disappearing completely from view.

After a few blinks to reassure yourself that you aren't in a strange dream, you head back to the garden as you think about how to meet him again. As you pass by the flowers he admired earlier, you notice the winter jasmines and smile.

"Elegance and graace; symbolizing good fortune." Repeating the text from a book you read on flower symbolism, you decide exactly how to approach the interesting snake man.

Carefully reviewing your notes over the next few days, you coax a flower away from its friends, thanking it for blooming beautifully to help you. You bring it with you as you make your way to the quiet shrine. Despite not knowing anything about the deity honored there, you respectfully perform a basic prayer to them. After, you feel the presence of someone - or, rather, something - there with you. Trying to hide your smile, you present the carnation upon the stone slab resting between you and the shrine.

"I don't know whether you know the meaning of flowers, but I think it must be fate that you were admiring the winter jasmines. I have a feeling you are similar to them: elegant and graceful. Even if nobody else can see you as anything but a monster because you look different, I refuse to judge you like that. If you'd please, I hope you accept this flower as a testament to my fascination of you. I'd like to get to know you more. Maybe a name, to start."

He doesn't greet you, but you pique his curiosity with your flower knowledge. Peeking through the shutters while hidden by invisibility magic, he commits your image to memory. However, he doesn't have to go searching for you like he expected, as you return to the shrine the following day. For the first time in over a decade, San opens the shutters, allowing you to see the representation of his deity.

Very androgynous, the long-haired figure stands there, dressed in an ornately decorated red and black hanbok. Next to them, a small dragon reaches the height of their knees, threatening whoever it may be. You study the visual, trying to locate anything that might identify what kind of god they are.

With the same intensity, San studies you, wondering whether you have ill intent in coming to the shrine. Today, as well, he remains hidden from you, but he quickly chooses a plant for you. Using his powers, he commands a breeze to drop the mint at your feet.

After a chuckle, you pick it up and question the choice, "This could mean so many different things. I wonder which you thought of when choosing it for me. Are you suspicious of me, or maybe openminded and interested in me? Or maybe you just think I'm a stroke of good luck! Have I healed your loneliness? Give me some more information here!"

Before he realizes it, a smile creeps across his face. Your knowledge and playfulness entice him. Moving out of view and lifting his invisibility, he walks out of the shrubbery and clears his throat to get your attention. As you turn, you're greeted by his human form once again.

"Nice to meet you. You don't have to put up that disguise, y'know. Just be comfortable; I'm not scared. Oh, I'm Y/N, by the way."

"How...? You- How are you so nonchalant about it?"

Tilting your head in confusion, you remind him of a small puppy, naive and trusting in a horribly untrusting world. He can't help but laugh, at your naivety and at himself for suspecting you of ill intent.

"You can call me San. That's the name Bo-in gave me when they took me under their wing."

"Nice to officially meet you, San. Is Bo-in the name of your deity? What did their powers entail?"

"Balance, mostly. Water to fire; earth to sky; shadow to light. Ensuring nothing overpowered its counterpart. They brought me and Soo-ah to their temple, teaching us and granting us our own powers after some time. When it was time for Bo-in to move on from this world, they knew that dragons would soon be hunted, so Soo-ah remained by their side while I stayed to watch over the shrine."

As he talks, his disguise slowly fades away, showing his growing comfort around you. He continues by explaining that Bo-in gave both pupils more unique creature forms than typical spirit guides. Although he doesn't mention why, you assume that it was another attempt to balance things out. From choosing one man and one woman, giving them names that balance, and bringing one while leaving the other, everything was truly done in the name of balance.

While you enjoy learning everything, you have to get home, as the sun has almost made its full path through the sky. As you say your goodbyes, you promise to return another day in the near future.

"Y/N," he calls after you've taken a few steps. "Thank you."

"Hm?"

"Just... thank you."

He'll never say it aloud. Never admit that you remind him of her. If he admits it, he'll have to acknowledge his feelings once again, after all this time. He'd have to recognize that he thanked you for returning to him and repairing his trust in humanity. That he can feel Bo-in looking down on him and smiling as everything goes according to plan.

"Y/N isn't Soo-ah." He says it aloud to convince himself and snap at his god for planning it.

When he rises the next morning, a bright red flower rests beside him. Since nobody has access to his magical abode, he immediately deduces it as a message from Bo-in. Wiping the residual sleepiness from his eyes and sitting up straight, San picks up the crimson petals to identify them. Camellia.

"Is this a joke, Bo-in? I only know two meanings behind the red camellia: love and a graceful death. What could you-?"

As it hits him, the words stop flowing. There's no way that's what they mean, right? But what else could this particular flower mean? Is it really a confirmation of Soo-ah's return? Hers is the only graceful death he can think of. Not to mention his love for her over all these centuries still holding strong.

The next time you go to meet San, you want to bring out another plant, but you can't figure out any that stand out, so you ask the local florist to choose a meaningful flower for you, essentially leaving the choice up to fate. When he comes back with a bright red flower that you don't know the meaning of, you find it quite a good match to your new friend, whose hair radiates a similar tone. Especially so after the florist explains that camellias are often used to symbolize overcoming adversity. After learning his story the day prior, you decide that this flower fits perfectly. Thanking him, you pay for the flower and begin heading towards Bo-in's shrine.

As you arrive, you're shocked by how grim the area feels. Usually bustling with greenery and a freshness in the air, you become overwhelmed by the thick, heavy air. Looking around at the bushes, it appears as if a tornado had focused its chaos upon the small pavilion. Dropping the flower, you rush to the shrine, tearing the shutters open and calling out for San.

"Quit your yapping."

Hearing a voice above you, you search the trees for a sign of him but cannot find one.

"San, come here. What happened?"

Plopping down behind you, he answers vaguely, "Bo-in is testing me."

With the momentum of the spin to face him, you nearly trip over your own two feet. Expecting to find his face at its normal height, you look around confused when that isn't the case.

"Down here."

You feel a light pressure on your foot and look down to find a red and brown snake atop it. Your gut reaction is to jump and kick it away, but you manage to stop yourself knowing that the creature is your friend.

"I can't change. Bo-in left me a flower, and, after a few hours, I felt my control over my powers weakening at a rapid rate. Now I'm here."

Squatting down, you hold a hand to the snake to bring him up to your level again. He wraps his scaly body around your arm, keeping his head near your palm. You try not to smile at his appearance, but it creeps through anyway.

"Laugh all you want." He huffs.

"I'm not laughing! I just think you're cute like this, that's all."

If a snake could blush, you're certain you'd see it right now. Tripping over his words and looking anywhere else but your face, San fails to respond to your comment. Your comment clearly flusters him, so you make a note to compliment him more in all of his various forms.

"So, what do we have to do to get you out of this form? It isn't some 'true love's kiss' type thing, is it?"

Although you were joking entirely, the silence that follows makes your heart drop a bit.

Eventually, he answers, "I sure hope not." Turning away from you and constricting more around your arm, he adds, "Let's try anything else before we assume that's the solution."

"You... don't have a clue?"

"No. Bo-in left the flower and then this happened. Nothing else. No clues."

Suddenly reminded of the flower you brought him, you look around to find it. He catches sight of its vibrant hue and everything immediately clicks in his mind.

"That's a camellia, isn't it?"

You hum in agreement as you bend down to pick it up, adding, "I didn't know much about it, but the florist told me that it's a sign of overcoming adversity. After hearing your life story, I-"

"That's the flower Bo-in left me."

"How strange. Do you think it means something?"

"Y/N." He pauses, and the emphasis in his voice sends a shiver up your spine, "That flower screams Soo-ah. It means perishing with grace, and symbolizes a strong, long-lasting love."

A strong gust blows at you, harshly ripping a few petals from their pistil. San carefully watches where they land, hoping for a coincidence rather than another part of Bo-in's scheme. Despite his wishes, however, each petal lands precisely in the center of the place it softly floats to the small pond, the shrine's entrance, and the zen garden.

"Water, earth, and air. With a flower as vibrant as flames."

Slowly, you approach the petal at the entrance. Looking in, there's now a cloudy but reflective surface in place of Bo-in's engraved likeness. Focusing on your reflection, you find a completely different image. Rather than you holding a snake, you see two people holding hands. You quickly identify San despite the longer dark hair and wedding-style suit, but you don't recognize the other figure who matches in an elegant white dress with red and gold jewelry. As you move, she moves with you, but this definitely isn't your own reflection.

"That's Soo-ah, isn't it?"

"You're Soo-ah, Y/N." Another booming voice responds before the snake in your hand gets the chance.

Quickly, you spin on your heel. There, just as androgynous as the carving, stands Bo-in. Despite the initial shock, standing there together feels normal. Comfortable. Familiar.

"It's like San says. Although your memories have been wiped upon reincarnation, you were once Soo-ah. Somehow, you were drawn back to this place despite my best attempts to keep you away. Therefore, as I promised you before approving the reincarnation, I will offer my explicit approval for your love. As a gift, I can also return your memories to you, should you want them back."

"Bo-in, revert this magic." Annoyed, San blurts out, interrupting the conversation. "I'd like to change this form again. It is awkward to stay like this while you both have physical human forms."

Despite the interruption, Bo-in appears unfazed, holding out a hand for San to slither onto. A dim light radiates from their palm and surrounds the small snake. Shortly after, San returns to a humanoid form. This interaction buys you some additional time to comprehend the situation and figure out how to answer such a difficult question.

Bo-in returns focus to you, "Have you decided, Soo-ah?"

A shiver runs up your spine, making you twitch from the discomfort. Although you understand that you're Soo-ah's reincarnation, being addressed by her name irks you. You haven't been Soo-ah in decades. You've been yourself all these years, not her. Meeting San was coincidental, even if there might've been outside forces influencing you to do certain things.

With this revelation, you decide, "I appreciate your offer, Bo-in, but suddenly acquiring memories from a past life feels like something that the human mind cannot handle. It'd likely send me down a spiral about my identity. I have to reject your offer."

A smile creeps onto Bo-in's face as you talk, but it's San who speaks first, "Man, you really ARE the same person."

Confused, your wide-eyed gaze hops back and forth between the two people in front of you. Neither cares to give any further context, and Bo-in confuses you even more by breaking out into bellowing laughter without comment. San quickly joins, and soon their laughs are too contagious to avoid. Although you can't pinpoint the reason for the laughter, it lightens the load in your heart.

Shortly after the laughter settles, Bo-in says goodbye and wishes you both luck. Leaving you and San alone, the air tenses again. You quickly go to apologize for not reviving Soo-ah's memories, thinking that may be why things feel awkward. However, before you can say three words, you feel lips on yours and hands cupping your cheeks. Your face heats up from the sudden affection, but you also melt into the sensation. You've been on your own for so long that you didn't realize how much you longed for someone to kiss you.

The interaction feels quick, but San pulls away with a heavy breath. The air is thick and warm between you, and you can't find the words to say after such a sudden interaction, but the silence that follows feels fresh, as if the kiss extended into the depths of your souls. When his breathing returns to normal, the silence finally breaks.

"I'd apologize, but I actually don't regret it."

You can't help but laugh. His confident aura lends to the cockiness of his comment, but he fully jokes. Despite his words, you know he's sorry for the sudden invasion of your personal space.

"Don't worry, San. I enjoyed it. You don't need to apologize."

"Okay, good. I mean, surely it must've felt like all those plays describe, right? Where you're swept off your feet by the man of your dreams."

Rolling your eyes, you refuse to give him the satisfaction of any answer whatsoever. Instead, you change the subject, asking him to adapt a little to the current culture. Although he finds current technology difficult to manage, you convince him to trade in the flower-passing messaging for a simple flip phone.

After suggesting that you'll be back next time with a phone, you give him a hug and take your leave. He kisses your forehead, and you think about it the whole trip home. You can feel the smile etched across your face. It's not just your lips either; you just know there's a twinkle in your eyes and more light on your full face. Although unusual, you rationalize it with the thought that it's simply because it's been too long.

It takes a while for him to adjust to the phone, but once he does, you'd be easily convinced that he never puts it down. Multiple calls daily make you glad you didn't teach him how to message people. Meetings become more frequent and in new places as you show him some of your favorite places. Slowly but surely, he begins adjusting to the lifestyle you've known.

Although he's had a few slip-ups, calling you Soo-ah a few times, he immediately corrects himself and apologizes each time. You understand that you likely resemble her in numerous ways, so you don't get upset. And, just as you intended by refusing your past life memories, San begins falling for Y/N rather than simply seeing Soo-ah in you. The name swaps happen less and eventually completely fade away. You feel it in his demeanor, too. Rather than being restrictive and apologetic about his feelings, his confidence soars, and his actions towards you feel fuller, more genuine and complete.

A few months pass; the next season comes. You barely even notice before San points it out.

"The colors of spring are wonderful, but there's a serenity that comes with the beginning of summer. Don't you think?"

Caught off-guard by the sudden question, you look around so you can respond. Expecting the cleanness that comes when all the flowers of spring fall to the ground and get whisked away by the wind, you actually find yourself stuck staring at a rarity. Once something unrecognizable to you, your eyes catch onto a camellia. However, this one isn't as striking as the red one from before. Rather, as if someone stripped the color clean out, this lone flower stands a bright white, still managing to stand out against the browns and yellows of the season's transition.

Shocked at your silence, San follows your unwavering gaze to the bush. When he catches sight of it, his eyes widen, and he curses under his breath. Even without knowing the specifics behind the various color meanings of this flower, something about the striking white feels haunting to you. You remind yourself that the flower means long-lasting, mutual love, but San's words ring in your head: it means perishing with grace. Is it a bad omen? Bo-In hasn't interfered since that day, so there's no way they'd speak to you now, right? Is it a warning? Are you overreacting?

"San..."

"They don't bloom this late. It shouldn't exist." Flatly, your boyfriend declares, a poorly-hidden concern painted upon his face.

Standing up from the bench, you approach the flower with San trailing a step behind you. Reaching out and touching it, the whole thing falls apart. Characteristic of camellias, the petals and sepals all collapse together at the slightest touch of your finger. With your arm frozen in position, you turn your head to the boy on your left, shooting him a concerned look.

Placing an arm around your shoulders, he files through a dozen statements to try and reassure you both that it's pure coincidence with no meaning. Even though you're certain both of you have worries in the back of your mind, you drop your arm and the topic all at once. Bouncing back into a happy state, you begin walking away and finally answer the question from earlier to segue into a new conversation.

"Summer really gives off that sense of a new beginning. Everything is changing, just like us. I think it's really appreciated in the cycle of seasons."

"Just like us... You're right. Here's to our new start with the season change."

#codn: spring24 #cultofdionysusnet #mfu-net #wonderlandnet #cromernet #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez #ateez choi san #choi san #choi san scenarios #san scenarios #choi san fluff #choi san imagines #ateez fluff

51 notes · View notes

dmitriene · 2 years ago

Text

— lie to me.

summary: better a bitter truth than a sweet lie, but do you really think so? content: re6! leon x fem! reader tags: angst, nsfw, smut, comfort/hurt, mentions of alcoholism, confused relationship, sex partners, receiving fingering, unprotected p in v, marking, receiving oral. (let me know if i forgot something!) author's note: the work was inspired by the song and my love for the angst, i hope you enjoy it! please enjoy your reading) 🤍 (18+ warning)

᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ « come on and lay with me / come on and lie to me »

᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ « tell me you love me / say i'm the only one »

his every appearance on your doorstep leaves hot marks on the skin and cold, which corrodes from the inside.

...

the blue haze of the day gradually rises to show the stars, at this time everything around seems to freeze, becomes quiet, as if silent.

there are fewer passers by on the streets, the roads are empty for hundreds of cars, more and more windows are lit up with light in the houses, and meanwhile the shadow falls on the streets, where only lonely lamps illuminate small islands around them, secluded corners between the tall buildings of the houses.

the night descends completely, the stars begin to shine like sugar spilled on black marble glistening in the sun, and the sight itself becomes truly desirable as your eyelashes flutter following your slowly rising gaze to the heavenly canvas to revel in its view, bending your torso forward to fold your arms on the balcony railing.

you take one deep breath to fill your lungs with cold air that prickly strokes your cheeks and makes you blush, biting your skin in small patches and provoking goosebumps as your eyes follow the familiar back riding a motorcycle, the noise of the engine is the only thing that filled the silence of the night streets and empty thoughts.

...

he appeared just as he disappeared, and you would compare him to a stray dog if he didn’t differ from it in one simple thing — the ability to stay next to you at least for a couple of moments longer.

his appearance on the threshold of your house in the middle of the night seemed an absolute routine, because you were the only one who allowed this event to repeat itself over and over again, filling the space with his intoxicating smell that provokes the mind to become cloudy, while your flesh burned under the touch of his hands, each touch of the fingertips left at the place of touch, a long feeling of weight that carved into your mind and remained there even after he left.

you knew what prevents him from staying with you longer, or maybe even forever — the horrors of what he experienced and the inability to forgive himself for what he was not guilty of turned him into the mess he was now.

Leon Scott Kennedy was no longer a cheerful young man who was ready to give everything to become a policeman and help people — now he was just a shell of past dreams and ideas, a broken agent who was doomed to devote himself to work for life.

the work was not hated by him being his full fledged choice — but it still made him suffer from a slurry vile of thoughts and nightmares, his heart was convulsively knocking on his chest and whining, remembering all the betrayals and fleeting feelings, and then drowning it all in an amber liquid alcohol, if only for a moment to drown out the whole stream of thoughts and mend the old wound.

but there were moments when even the most bitter taste and the most scratchy sensation in the throat did not help to shut up everything that was happening — and that's when he came to you.

...

you didn’t know what he finds in you and your personal space in the form of cozy apartments, but at the same time, he still appeared inside from time to time from the moment you let him through the threshold just to catch his limp body in your fragile hands.

your knees gave way slightly under his weight on your body, so that later he would wrap his arms around you and help you stand on your legs, while the whiskey on his lips spoke for all his words and actions in advance, his face buried somewhere in the crook of your neck, passing the herd of goosebumps through your body and projecting a slight heat on the face.

and in those sleepless evenings, nothing happened but his sleepy figure in your arms, your body lay calmly under his weight on the soft cushions of the sofa while his head rested on your chest, letting his soft strands of hair spread over you so that you could sort them with your fingers, watching how the once blonde hair became darker and darker, as if indicating a transition of personality.

this was his nightly visits to your apartment — the search for comfort and at least a few hours of sleep, because for some reason you helped him fall asleep without the need to empty all the kitchen shelves clogged with tart drinks, he only needed you, the feeling of your warm body under himself and the way you tremblingly stroked his head, every second emptying his mind of any nightmares and dark recesses of the mind, filling everything with warmth and a thread of hope.

a thread for which he was afraid to cling so as not to remain broken and abandoned again — therefore, as soon as he habitually wakes up, as soon as the first rays of the sun break through the canvas of the sky to realize where he is, he silently disappeared, not allowing himself to leave a note or disturb your sleep, the only thing that hinted at his nocturnal presence next to you was the fleeting touch of a thumb along your cheek, leaving a warm touch even after a long time.

...

and from that moment on, he begins to appear on the threshold more often, allowing you to frown at the sharp smell of alcohol in his breath and realize that you cannot push him away, a sense of responsibility and regret for this man arose in you, the realization that you were salvation for him — the last hope for which he clung was when he came to a state below nowhere.

you nervously purse your lips and let him come in, let him into your abode in order to help and show that here he can be himself — and he is nobody to refuse you, because he himself is pulled here by a pressing feeling between the ribs and uncertain steps to again pull you into strong hugs, but this time it's different.

he pulls you into a sweet abyss in which you did not even think to be, until his warm lips lay on yours in a hot kiss, the tip of his tongue caressed playfully in your mouth, allowing you to taste the subtle notes of the alcohol he once drank, while your fingers tremblingly squeezed the collar of his leather jacket, digging in and pulling him towards you almost animalistically, defiantly.

his hand wanderingly finds its way to the back of your head, only to tilt your head for his comfort — to cut off the possibility of turning while the tip of his tongue continues to play in the wet cavity of your mouth, his kisses are played from deep to innocent, trailing his tongue over your glossy and swollen lips, making you cling to him tighter and watch his eyes curve into the smile at the corners of his lips.

it was the first time you allowed yourself to succumb without a second thought to some completely new feelings, only to end up under him on the soft sheets of the bed, your spine bending in an arc as his tongue hungryly bites the skin between your thighs, watching how your tender body shudders while the sweetest moans pour from the lips, and no musical instrument can repeat this precious melody.

...

scarlet watercolor marks form under his lips on your skin, which will become a wonderful reminder of what happened, of how his fingers slide higher to cover your pubic tubercle with his palm, fingers quiveringly touching your once most intimate place — a small pea on which he then began to draw gentle patterns , projecting light whimpers to slip from your lips in a desire to feel more pressure

— «L-Leon! p-please»

one of your pleas in an almost suffocated tone of voice is enough for him to stop teasing you through the unnecessary fabric of your panties, prying them with his long fingers and pulling them off your wonderful thighs to replace them with his lips, he carefully spreads your labia while his tongue nervously traces the path on his lower lip before he is completely adjacent to your clit.

his tongue widens a small path from which you cling to his hair with your hands, while he gradually begins to move more sweepingly and faster, giving you incredible pleasure — because of which the pressure in the bottom of your stomach became almost unbearable, while he deftly sucked and caressed your clit with his tongue, making your legs tremble and hips buck up in anticipation of the heady release that soon took over, covering his lips and chin with your arousal as he helps you descend from the height of your orgasm.

and you again lie in each other's arms, his hugs are as tender and enveloping as possible, while he buries his nose into your chest and you still stroke his head in the same habitual way, only to mutter a pitiful hope

— «Will you stay till the morning?»

his hands are clenched on your body, and hot breath no longer touches your naked skin, and you know perfectly well what this means, but he only swallows nervously and speaks in response

— «Yeah, of course..»

L I E

...

cloyingly sweet lies are gathered on the tongue in order to eventually push off from the tip and let it pass from his lips with the intention of deceiving not only you, but also himself.

with the next sunrise there is nothing next to you that would remind of his presence, and even the side of the bed, ironically located closer to the door, colder than ever, because he left you even before the sun had time to appear on the horizon, silently taking him after his dim rays.

gradually, everything that surrounded you turned into a dark space consisting of viscous lies and as far as possible sincere caresses, the last thing you wanted to believe in — was his sincerity.

you allowed yourself to be deceived, fed on a lie at your daily leisure and held on to it with a death grip as if it were the only thing that allowed you to live, and one thought that this should end covers your heart in a lingering pain, and hot tears flow down your cold cheeks.

weakness covers the body, because your fragile soul is not able to withstand such a huge burden and slow awareness of the whole situation, which makes you curl up under soft sheets into a protective ball and cover your hot face with your palms.

for the first time in a long time, you feel the salty taste of tears on your tongue and hear your heart beating furiously, the blood is noisily walking all over your body while you try to calm down in vain, and now the crying becomes completely silent, because there is no more strength left.

...

and that's when lies become an endless cycle in which you both go hand in hand, his hot touches are all over your body as if in the form of red handprints, your skin is covered with scarlet buds of passionate traces, while a velvet voice rings in your ears, enveloping you with viscous deceit

— «I love you»

empty confessions become something inherent in him — he showers you with a quivering whisper at night and under the pressure of sweet passion swears love, while his tongue gently runs along your neck, scratching the skin with his bristle, and a light sob slips from your lips from how deep he is in your wet cunt as your lips find his and kiss him passionately, all just to soothe the uncomfortable sensation somewhere under your ribs, a desperate attempt to get through to your mind and tell you that this can't go on any longer.

...

tonight is the last night when his fingers leave marks on your hips from a tight grip as his head is thrown back and a hoarse moan escapes from his chest as you raise your trembling hips to sit on his throbbing cock in the next second in one smooth movement, uttering desperate whine.

you literally see how fireworks explode before your eyes, and the tight knot in the lower abdomen persistently reminds of itself after the moan of long awaited pleasure, you bite your lips almost to the blood, throwing your head back and showing your neck, which has long been covered with scarlet buds and teeth marks.

the body rises smoothly, feeling a slight pain bordering on a welcome wave of pleasure that makes your body goosebumps.

your head is spinning, and your legs are becoming cottony, so in order not to suddenly fall onto the bed, you grab onto his strong broad shoulders like a lifeline that will soon have to be cut off while your pelvic movements become faster and faster.

your movements are sweeping, the room is gradually filled with hysterical moans and erratic sounds, while he directs your hips with his fingers digging into your skin, half closed eyes as his cock forms a small bulge on your stomach because of which he bites his lip and emits a low growl.

crystal droplets of sweat, like beads, gradually began to appear on the skin, you frantically licked your lips, sugary from the shine, trying to keep in touch with reality and sharp jolts inside your sopping cunt, a wave of excitement curling up in a lump in the lower abdomen.

each deep push was a measured touch on your g spot, while his hands slid from your hips to your buttocks to grab them and start moving at an almost animalistic pace, hitting your kervix with every sharp movement, the sounds of slaps spread more and louder around the room after the vociferous moans while you whispered in unison

— «G-going to c-cum.. mngh, f-fuck, Leon!»

— «Good, so fucking good, cum, cum for me, sweetheart»

bitter oblivion hits with a sharp blow, indescribable pleasure from orgasm rolls in a continuous wave, making the walls of your cunt shrink around his cock and your legs tremble, the warm knot in the lower abdomen grows larger and at the last minute Leon can not stand it, throwing his head back and pours out hot ropes of cum inside your spasming cunt, painting your walls while panting.

...

and that's when it all ends, you've been painting a picture of your final breakup from the moment those thoughts started attacking you to the moment he walked out of your shower, encountering a slight tension in the room that made him feel the most uncomfortable, which made him clear his throat and pronounce slowly, pulling on the last element of the once removed clothes, a t-shirt

— «Everything's alright? You look tense»

you look at him with intense gaze, rubbing the bridge of your nose and facing a lump in your throat, no matter how much you had imagined this moment — it’s hard to look at his tired look full of desperate affection, but it’s even harder for you when you see the emotions on his face that change after your whisper

— «That's our last meet, Leon.»

he swallows slowly, looks into your eyes dully while his hand runs along his chin nervously, not knowing where to put his hands from the awkwardness of the situation while he silently nods, picking up a leather jacket from an armchair in the corner of your room and instantly leaving through the door, saying under his breath

— «I understand.»

from that moment on, everything around you calms down, he gathers and quietly disappears, so quietly that you don’t even seem to hear the front door in the corridor closing behind him, while your legs themselves led you to the balcony to see his figure disappearing into the darkness, cold wind prickles your skin, but you do not feel the desired relief, because you are mired in it even deeper than you thought, listening to the roaring sounds of the engine starting.

please, don't copy my works as your own, and if you want to post them somewhere else - contact me.

reblogs, likes and comments are very much appreciated, thank you for reading! ♡

#resident evil leon #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy re6 #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fic #[ ✒️july writing ]#re6 leon #infinite darkness leon

243 notes · View notes

cartoon-buffoon · 14 days ago

Text

I sadly don't have anything ready for Valentine's but because a few people don't go on ao3 to read fanfics (and honestly valid I have my issues with the site) I decided to share a fic I made last year, one that did pretty well all things considered and one I like. So Toon Productions presents:

TOGETHER—Oswald X Ortensia Valentine's story

Words: 5,253

Warnings: suggestive scene (this stays in the wholesome category, don't worry)

Ortensia groaned as she pulled into the driveway of her house, fur absolutely disheveled and both mind and body in a state of exhaustion. It was another hard day for her and it was only half way through the work week. Everyday was getting harder and harder to work, she'd soon have to take a leave, even if it was going to be a temporary one although she still really needed the money. Cash was tight and It was only two weeks after she and her husband had some unprotected fun in the bedroom yet it really only took a couple of days for the first few symptoms to show up. After two weeks she was at the stage where she started to feel nauseous in the morning, hormones starting to act up making her have random cravings, and an ever so slight bump appeared in her usual slim form. Ortensia was well aware by now of the glaring cause of it: she was pregnant.

"Just gotta make it to Friday" she sighed, resting her head on the steering wheel she just sat there for a solid minute giving herself more encouragement "come on Ortensia you can do this, just two more days, two more days and you don't have to work again" Stealing her pain away, the black cat looked to her hand, a ring on her finger being a friendly reminder of what she has to look forward to when coming home. "Well, I guess it's not all that bad"

Sitting back up, Ortensia fixed her hat and pulled the keys out of the ignition. The walk to the door was long and painful, already sore paws having the rough texture of the gravely driveway under them made them ache further. Ortensia let out a groan, it was only a small distance to the front door yet it felt like it dragged on for miles. As soon as she got to the door she took a breath, the toon cat putting on a tired smile to greet her husband with.

"Honey I'm ho- huh?" Opening the door she was met with no one there, the usual eager rabbit being missing "Ozzie" She called out "Honey bun? You here?"

Ortensia hung up her keys and hat on a rack near the door and walked inside further. It was odd, usually Oswald was standing there like a dog waiting for its owner, yet he was just plain absent.

"Wonder where that rabbit got off to" she said aloud. Waking inwards she noticed a note on the coffee table "oh? What's this?" Raising an eyebrow she picked up the note and immediately recognized the flowery cursive of her husband's handwriting.

["To my dearest Ortensia—

You don't have to worry about anything today. The laundry is washed and folded, the garbage has been taken out, and the dishes from last night were cleaned. Today is a day about love, and there is nothing I love more than you and I wanted to spare you the house work. There are no words I could write down to express my love for you and since actions speak louder than words I hope my actions are loud enough for the whole world to hear. Upstairs you'll find a warm bath awaiting you since I know you probably had a long day. As for me? Well I don't wanna spoil the surprise yet I'll be seeing you real soon~, from your dearest husband

—Oswald"]

Well this was certainly a surprise, a welcome one yet still nonetheless a surprise. It wasn't their anniversary, did Oswald just feel like doing her a special favor?

"Today is a day about love?" Ortensia repeated "what is he- OH!" She immediately facepalmed "how could I forget! It's valentine's day! Augh! I didn't even get him anything"

Resting the note down on the table, Ortensia collapsed back onto the sofa, angry at herself. With how stressful work has been combined with the newcomers on the way inside of her she completely forgot the date. Usually she'd stop by on the way home, pick up some flowers for Ozzie, maybe a carrot or two, yet she was completely empty handed! There was the chance she could go back out, it didn't seem like Oswald was home so one could easily just go to the store and pick up a quick gift. Standing up, Ortensia's paws gave a resounding "no" as they just caused her to fall back onto the couch.

"Oh damn it all" she complained "well... At least I have that bath to look forward to, maybe he won't be home by then and I can still get him something"

Despite her feet hurting with intent to leave, they noticeably were a lot less sore when walking over to the stairs. The cat rolled her eyes and huffed, a toon's body had a mind of its own sometimes so of course it only wanted relaxation. There were moments she hated the weird logic—or rather lack thereof— when it came to certain things, yet there wasn't anything she could do about it. As soon as she made it up the steps the toon looked down to see a path of green petals that matched her skirt leading to her bedroom. Upon a closer look the petals were that of the hydrangea flower, her favorite flower. Ortensia felt even more bad she didn't get Oswald anything, hydrangeas at this time of the year? He must have had to order these from elsewhere and kept them alive for this very occasion. Oswald was going the full mile this Valentine's day and it was clear from his absence the bunny had something else planned.

"Oh that darn rabbit! If I didn't know any better I'd say he's just trying to outdo me in terms of romantic gestures" Ortensia grumbled.

Next year she'll have to do something a bit more grand than this, yet for now that bath called to her. Quite literally in fact, steam emitted from the open bedroom door, the steam physically manifesting into a hand that beckoned her closer. Seeing the enticing steam hand Ortensia walked into the bedroom, it was pitch black say for the bathroom light shining under the door that led to the master bathroom. The light itself was faint, a dim light that seeped under the crack giving the clear indicator that the bathroom light wasn't on so there must have been some other light source.

"Huh..." Ortensia took a few steps forward and opened the door, her eyes going wide in shock, the light source was made apparent now that she got a full eyeful of the intricate setup. Lit candies were placed around the room and tub giving the room a warm feeling, the bathtub itself was filled to the brim with water that steamed, bubbles lining the liquid's service "oh dear Walt, he really did all this for me?" The cat eyed everything suspiciously, this was very new "well I gotta hand it to him, when he's not getting into trouble he sure can be quite the romantic"

There was still guilt about not getting her husband anything, but she brushed it off. Besides, the tub was right there and it wasn't like she was going to pass up a bath with such a lovely and careful setup. Throwing away the only two things she wore, a skirt and shorts, Ortensia walked over to the tub awaiting her. While walking the toon however stopped, turning to her side she got a good view of her own body from the side due to the mirror on the wall. Taking a second Ortensia stared at her reflection, the black eyes of hers gravitating to her belly which was more pronounced than she had thought. Telling her husband soon was all but guaranteed, the cat's figure was a dead giveaway and how Oswald hadn't noticed was a mystery. Ortensia sighed, she'll just have to worry about telling him later, for now- she looked at the bathtub, for now she was going to get some well needed respite.

Dipping a single toe in she tested the water, not too hot yet definitely warm and steamy enough to feel good. Putting both feet in the water she slowly melted down into the waters, once again literally. Ortensia's entire body turned into a puddle but solidified back into shape once the final bit of black touched the surface. The water felt like heaven against her body, the liquid enveloped the black cat in such a way that it immediately soothed her, the warm liquid soaking into dark fibers. The bubbles didn't do much and were purely cosmetic, still it just made it feel cozy. All this combined with the fact that the house had a human sized bathtub as opposed to a toon sized one made it all the better, she had tons of room to freely move about in whatever position she pleased.

"Ahhhh~... Just want I needed" she said while closing her eyes and resting her head against the wall "I gotta find a way to thank Ozzie for this... Actually, I wonder where is that rabbit?" Ortensia's face scrunched up in thought although she just let it go "meh, he's probably fine"

With that thought being dismissed, Ortensia kept her eyes closed, contemplating if she could just fall asleep in the position. There wasn't the threat of falling asleep and drowning under the water, cartoon logic after all, there was the threat of one of the candles catching the entire house on fire though. Eh, she was sure it was fine, it was a long and arduous day for her and there was no way she was going to worry about something while relaxing. Ortensia smiled and opened her eyes, the smile immediately fading as her fur stood on edge seeing a small mound of bubbles begin to move and writhe. The cat's eyes widened, claws revealed themselves and she hissed as she saw two flat black cylinders slowly come up from between her legs. After a second a familiar white furry face revealed itself, the smug smirk of a toon rabbit immediately calming her at the realization of who it was.

"Mind if I join you?" Oswald purred.

"Oh dear Walt... I almost had a heart attack" Ortensia let out a breath and retracted her claws, lowering herself back into the water, the cat raised an eyebrow "how long were you holding your breath so you could do that?"

"Longer than I probably should have" Oswald remarked before holding his nose and blowing, sending water shooting out of his ears and back into the bath "that's better, I can properly hear now"

"How long did this all take? The flowers? The candles?... How many times did you have to empty this tub to keep the water fresh?"

"Don't worry about it, besides I caused all this mess and I sure as inkwell not going to have you clean it up" Oswald swam closer to his wife, squeezing next to her and nuzzling against her cheek "I did everything so you could relax, I know working can be really hard and I appreciate you picking up the slack ever since Mick took over the company and put me outta a job"

"To say you do nothing all day would be wrong, you usually take care of most of the chores and cook which is nice" Ortensia leaned in and place a kiss on Oswald's cheek, the rabbit's face flashing inverse colors which made her giggle "we make it work don't we?"

"We sure do, but still I can't help but feel you get the short end of the stick in all this" Oswald held his breath and delved into the water, popping back up soon after only this time behind Ortensia "you deserve to be treated as good as you treat me once in awhile"

"Well I appreciate this Ozzie, you have no idea how stressful work was today" Ortensia let herself relax further and laid back on the rabbit "I don't know if your acting took a toll on you that much, yet if it's anything like being a nurse then I have nothing but respect for you for working as hard as you did for us"

Oswald began to massage his love's ears and head with one hand "heh, well acting ain't an easy yet you're a nurse, you got it way harder!" Oswald chuckled and used his other arm to wrap around the black cat's waist and pull her closer "if I had to put up with as many people as you I would of probably been fired by now for purposeful medical malpractice, I don't know how you do it"

"Francines working the floor with me, she made it so that our shifts align so it takes off a decent amount of stress" Ortensia began to let out a purr as she felt her husband's delicate hands on her scalp and ears, the bunny getting all the right spots "mmm... Coming home to you everyday makes it all worth it anyhow"

"Well I only wish you didn't have to do so much to keep us afloat, you deserve a break like this once in awhile" Oswald scooped up some of the water with his hand and brought it down slowly on top Ortensia's head, the cat's purrs of satisfaction being a tell he was doing things right "if you want I can have this waiting for you everyday after you come home? I feel like it'd make unwinding a bit easier for you, minus the candles and flowers of course, that's just for today"

"Heh, I'd appreciate that" tilting her head back she gave a kiss to the rabbit on the lips "and even if the flowers and candles are just for today, it doesn't mean I don't appreciate it any less"

"Well my special gal deserves something special for such a romantic holiday after all" Oswald smirked, his hand traveling downward Ortensia's body and towards her legs, he immediately stopped however after hearing a groan from the cat.

"Not today Ozzie, I'm not in the mood" she lamented.

"Oh" respecting his wife the rabbit immediately returned his hand to her waist "I know it's one of those days yet I didn't know it was one of those days"

Ortensia nodded "mhm, I'm sorry I just can't"

"Hay, hay, it's no problem" Oswald gave a kind smile and kept stroking her fur "I understand loud and clear, I may be a rabbit yet I don't care about it that much!, I mean maybe once a week to keep me sane yet I understand if you can't today or tomorrow"

Ortensia giggled at the comment regarding her husband's sanity, she knew what she was getting into when marrying a rabbit "what a gentleman" she remarked.

"When it comes to men, I'm as gentle as they come babe" Oswald snickered "in fact, everytime I go to the grocery store I get women complimenting me on my fur all the time, yet I always say the same thing"

"Oh yeah?" Ortensia smiled and raised an eyebrow "and what's that?"

" 'Sorry ladies, but this rabbit is happily hitched' " he cooed while leaning in.

Ortensia rolled her eyes, Oswald's dorkiness never did fail to make things better "oh, you're an idiot"

"An idiot who you fell in love with might I add?"

Ortensia sighed "daddy always did say I had the worst taste in men" she grabbed Oswald's chin and kissed him, holding the kiss for a solid ten seconds the cat pulled away and licked her lips "he always had my wellbeing in mind, yet I know this was one thing he was dead wrong about"

The blushing bunny's face inverted colors briefly, Oswald absolutely adored when his wife would be clever. Scooping up some bubbles Oswald shaped the suds into that of a little crown and placed them on top of his wife's head.

"I wanna get back to spoiling you if you don't mind, would my lovely queen care for a foot massage?" He asked.

"If it's not too much that would be great dear, I've been on my paws all day"

"Nothing could ever be too much for you, honestly I'd say this isn't enough"

The rabbit released his wife and gently rested her back against the tub and waded through the bubbles to sit across from her. Lifting up one of the cat's legs Oswald grabbed a hold of her paw and began massaging. Ortensia let out a loud purr, yeah that definitely helped after a long day's work. The rabbit's soft and delicate hand movements plus the warm water sent her into a relaxation like no other, it was moments like this and many others that made Ortensia not regret a single decision leading up to this moment. If there was one regret she had, if anything it was not asking Oswald to marry her sooner, she could still remember the sparkle in his eyes and the sight of Oswald's tail wagging like crazy. Unbeknownst to the cat the bunny's tail was wagging currently, everytime he was this close to Ortensia his body couldn't help but demonstrate how happy he was. Ripples hidden by bubbles spread throughout the tub, the little cottontail of Ozzie's shaking rapidly in excitement.

"Is this to your liking, your highness?" Oswald asked in an over the top elegant fashion.

Ortensia grabbed some bubbles and shaped them into a crown similar to the one Oswald gave her, leaning forward she placed it over her husband's ears and leaned back "the massage is adequate yes, yet what I'm looking at is more to my liking than any foot rub I could ever receive"

Oswald chuckled and kept massaging his wife's paws, happy to treat her out and just spend time with her. The two stayed there until the bubbles popped and the water grew cold and no longer comforting. Oswald was the first to hop out, him being the courteous rabbit he was, he leaned down and helped Ortensia out. With both toons having wet fur they searched for towels only to find nothing there on the rack. Ortensia looked over to her husband who gave a nervous chuckle, despite doing the laundry the bunny neglected to put any of it away, rather the basket holding the laundry was just sitting in the closet. Thinking quickly Oswald found a solution by removing his ears, stretching, and flattening them until they resembled two fluffy towels. After spending a bit goofing off, taking turns drying each other off and messing with each other's fur and some juggling of bunny ears, Oswald and Ortensia opened the door to their bedroom. Both took a breath and savored the cold air hitting them as opposed to the steamy environment they were just in.

"I really needed that, thanks a bunch honey," Ortensia said as she sat on the edge of the bed.

"No problem babe," Oswald replied. Walking over to the closet he pulled out a pair of blue shorts which he slipped on and tossed some undergarments plus a green skirt over to his wife "I also washed your pinks one if you want one of those" he remarked.

"No it's fine, I prefer the green ones" Ortensia grabbed the undergarments and slipped them on with ease although faced some trouble when it came to the skirt "darn it" she grunted while trying to stretch it to fit, she always had a bit of a belly yet thanks to the little ones inside she was swelled up a bit more than usual.

"Huh? Did they shrink in the wash?" Oswald asked. Walking over he looked at the cat struggling to put on the skirt "don't tell me I messed them up" he rubbed his forehead in frustration "that's real lucky! Just great, I done messed up an entire load"

"I don't think they shrunk..." Ortensia trailed off and rubbed her belly, now was probably the best time to come out and explain why it didn't fit her and to soothe the bunny's worries "Ozzie... I don't know if you've noticed, yet as of late I've been getting a bit... Big"

"What!? You? Big?" Oswald scoffed "you're as slim as the day I met you! Heck, I'd say even more in shape now that you've been working"

Ortensia smiled softly, the rabbit was lying through his teeth although the flattery was nice to hear "heh, as much as I appreciate the compliment I know different, I've seen myself gain a couple of pounds for good reason to"

"Oh yeah? Who says you've gained a couple of pounds?"

"Well I've seen myself in the mirror-"

"Oh so it's the mirror's fault eh?" Oswald marched back to the bathroom much to Ortensia's dismay.

"Oswald, don't"

"Just a second love" the rabbit turned to the mirror and crossed his arms "so you're the one fat shaming my wife eh?"

Ortensia rolled her eyes and waited, for such big ears it was strange how Oswald didn't listen sometimes.

"Now listen here buster, I don't know what your wife looks like, yet I sure know mine's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and nobodys allowed to speak to her like that, you hear me!?"

... The mirror stayed quiet, it was a mirror after all.

"Silent treatment huh? Well I'm sure you'll get real talkative after I do this!-" Oswald punched the mirror, it didn't budge and he immediately fell backwards in pain "GAH!... Ok, maybe you win this round" Oswald stood up and started to walk back to the bedroom "just watch yourself bub"

As soon as Oswald looked away the mirror grew a mouth and tongue, it blew a raspberry to mock him.

Oswald reached into his shorts and pulled out a hammer "AH-HAH!" Spinning around the rabbit chucked the hammer shattering the mirror into millions of fragments "how's that huh tough guy?" Marching back out with a proud smile on his face Oswald dusted off his hands "well that takes care of that, you're perfect just the way you are and don't let anyone say otherwise got it?"

"Oswald... Just sit down please" Ortensia desperately requested, one would think he was the other type of buck considering how hard headed he was.

"Alright, yet there's nothing to worry about now that the mirrors gone, heck! I won't even get bad luck from it" Oswald thumped his foot against the ground "just one of the lovely perks of being a rabbit"

Ortensia waited until Oswald was sitting down, twiddling her thumbs nervously while he did so.

Oswald took notice of his wife's actions, placing a hand on the cat's shoulder as he looked at her, his face growing more serious "hey you ok? Something's obviously bothering you, you know you can tell me anything right?"

"Yeah I know..." Ortensia took a breath to collect herself "listen, there's no reason to spare my feelings I know you've seen my belly growing a bit"

Oswald bit his lip but eventually relented "ok! Yes... To say I haven't seen you getting a gut would be a lie, but hey I know my cooking is good so I don't blame you at all" he boasted proudly "besides, the house of mouse is made outta glass and I don't throw stones" the rabbit gave his own gut a pat, pointing out he himself wasn't the most fit.

"As much as I love your cooking, it's not cause of that" Ortensia looked away from him, unsure how exactly he was going to take the news.

"Huh? Then what're you trying to get at?" Oswald was thoroughly confused, it seemed whatever this was was serious and he was just sitting there in suspense. He loved her no matter what, so whatever it was it couldn't be that big of a shock or surprise right?

"Oswald..." She turned back to meet his oval eyes, taking a deep breath she came right out and said it "I'm pregnant"

Oswald stared at her, his expression remaining unchanged as if he didn't even hear her.

Ortensia looked at him confused "um... Ozzie? You oka-"

POP

"Oh dear!" Ortensia covered her mouth in shock.

Oswald's head had popped like a balloon leaving everything from the neck down intact. The rabbit's hand which still had complete movement touched the area where his head should be, feeling it was missing the hand reached down and yanked the fluffy cottontail that belonged to Oswald. Almost immediately the bunny's head reappeared from the vacant hole in his torso, a large grin plastered across Oswald's face much to Ortensia's surprise.

"YOU'RE PREGNANT!" He happily exclaimed "haha! I can't believe it!" Oswald stood up and bounced up and down sporadically "oh my Ub! Oh my Ub! I can't believe it! I'm gonna be a dad!"

Ortensia giggled, she could recognize that sparkle in his eye anyway, the same one he had when she proposed several years ago. Oswald turned to her and immediately started bombarding the black cat with questions.

"How long have you known? How far along are you? Have you faced any more morning sickness? Has your back been hurting? Why haven't you quit work yet? You shouldn't be busting your keister out there while carrying!" Oswald's face grew a bit more solemn as he looked at his wife, slightly hurt "why didn't you tell me?"

Ortensia saw the rabbit's expression and looked away, unable to see her husband like that "I'm so sorry honey" she apologized "I'm almost there weeks now and I didn't want to talk about it, money is already hard to come by and I don't know how we'll support kids I'm... I shouldn't of hid this from you, I can understand if you're mad at me"

Oswald noticed Ortensia beginning to tear up and he immediately rushed over and held her hand "mad at you!? Why would I ever be mad at you!"

Ortensia looked back and saw how truly ecstatic the rabbit was "you're not mad at me?"

"Why would I EVER be mad at you!? You had all the right to be scared, I'm just happy you told me now! This is the happiest day of my life!" Oswald put a hand on the black cat's belly and grinned "do you know what they're gonna be? I personally want a daughter, yet if we get a boy I wouldn't be any less happy, heck I could even teach em to play baseball!"

"Ozzie you don't got to think like that"

"Oh! You're right!" Oswald facepalmed "even if it is a girl I still could teach em baseball, I dunno why I'm being a moron, I'm sorry"

"No Ozzie, cat's give birth to multiple babies at once, it'll be an entire litter" Ortensia eyed her husband curious on what his reaction would be to that information.

"WHAAAA- more than one!?" Just as he thought the day couldn't get any better luck seemed to strike the rabbit "you're not joking are you!? We really get more than one!?"

Ortensia nodded "mhm, I haven't got any clue how many we'll have, it could be a simple pair of twins, triplets, or even as big as nonuplets, I've even heard of a girl birthing fifteen babes in one litter, there's no real way of knowing"

"Well however many of the little munchkins there are, I'll make sure to love them all equally!" The rabbit brought his wife into a tight hug "this is the best gift anyone could ask for on Valentine's!"

Ortensia hugged back, the nerves didn't fully disappear and she felt like she should ask "you took the info about my pregnancy better than most would, but aren't you a bit scared?"

"Scared? Ha! No!" Oswald's cheery attitude faded as he stared blankly into space "I'm plain terrified..." Quickly shaking his head the bunny returned back to his previous state "yet that's normal for new parents after all, it's good that we're scared even! It shows that we care for each other and the well-being of the babies" Oswald sat back down and placed a hand on her leg to comfort the worried feline "I understand you're worried yet I'll take care of everything from here on out, also you should call in, from here on out you're on maternity leave"

"I can't leave in the middle of a work week, that'll leave Fanny all alone and I can't do that to he-" she was cut off again by a finger being put to her lips.

"Shhhh" Oswald shushed. Putting his hands on his hips the little rabbit remained firm about his decision "I know for a fact that Fanny is tough enough to handle it, besides she'll understand, you're pregnant for the animator's sake!"

"It still feels like a Richard move ya know?"

"Don't worry about her" Oswald dismissed "what you need to worry about is the kids's well-being, I'll take care of the rest okay?"

"I guess you're right..." She let out a reluctant sigh and nodded "I'll call in tomorrow, I'm just worried"

"Hey, look at me" the rabbit snapped his fingers drawing Ortensia's attention "we'll get through this okay? I'll find a way, I always do"

Ortensia held her husband's hand and smiled "promise?"

Oswald squeezed Ortensia's hand in return, both of their ring's metal grating against each other. Placing a kiss on her cheek he looked at the feline he fell in love with with the utmost adoration. Bringing her into a warm hug the rabbit whispered softly into his wife's ear to shoo away any doubts.

"I swear on my life, no matter what we'll find a way to support us and give the kids the best childhood ever"

Ortensia's ears laid flat against her head still in worry "what if we mess up?"

"Oh it's not an if it's a when, there's no such thing as a perfect parent I know that for a fact knowing my own dad, and yours who also wasn't a saint" Oswald gave a wink "yet all we can do is move along, learn from our mistakes, and be better as parents"

"Where did my husband go and who replaced him with this old wiseman?" Ortensia purred.

"First off: I ain't old" Oswald said bluntly, he quickly laughed it off and continued "second off: you learn a thing or two about raising kids when most of your fans are that demographic and see how bad certain parents are, I'd like to think of myself as mature"

"And handsome," Ortensia added.

"Oh yeah, of course I knew that"

Both of the toons laid down in bed. They stared at each other like love struck teens, despite being married for quite some time they never did get past that mushy gushy lovey dovey part of a relationship. They both liked it like that though, knowing there was nothing but a mountain of romance and love for each other was comforting. Oswald moved closer and wrapped his arms around Ortensia's waist, spooning her as he rested his head on her shoulder.

"I love you honey bunches," Ortensia said. Closing her eyes she let out a purr and soon found herself drifting off, not without hearing those comforting words one last time however.

"Love you too baby, and I love all our babies too" Oswald chuckled and and rubbed Ortensia's tummy "I promise no matter what we'll figure things out, and we'll do it together"

#rambles from toon #oswald the lucky rabbit #ortensia whiskers #ortensia the cat #oswald x ortensia #shipping #ship #my fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #my fanfic #ship fic

10 notes · View notes