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awkwardtickleetoo · 2 months

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Pretty Kitty

helloooo everyone :D happy (late shh) valentine’s day!!!

welcome to the long awaited kitty george fic!! i made a concept post about it here if anyone is unfamiliar with what i’m talking about, and seeing as this fic is romantic dnf and the concept was created by me and @mushiewrites on the 16th last year, i figured what better time to upload this than right now :D so happy valentine��s day and/or birthday to the kitty george concept <3 you’ve been well loved my sweetheart

also shoutout to mushie and @wishitweresummer for reading this and liking it so much <3

warning: this fic is romantic dnf, so they do kiss quite a bit and they are referred to as boyfriends, and also this is literally only feet tickles and very very heavily favors feet nibbles and kisses. if that’s not your thing, feel free to skip this one!

lee!george, ler!dream, 4.8k words

enjoy!

Dream stood in front of the kitchen sink, bare feet pressed against the cool linoleum as he washed his empty cereal bowl, when he felt two arms wrap around his waist from behind. He looked down and immediately recognized them as his boyfriend’s, letting out a low chuckle as he rinsed the bowl out and placed it on the drying rack, grabbing the glass he used next.

“Hi, baby,” He greeted, earning a soft hum from George as he hugged tighter.

“Hmmm… hi,” George replied, voice muffled, his cheek pressed against Dream’s back.

“Whatcha up to?” Dream asked, rinsing the soap out of the glass and leaving it to dry as well.

“Nothing. Just wanted a hug.”

“Aww, Georgie,” Dream cooed at him through a giggle, reaching over and drying his hands with the dish towel he’d left on the counter. He turned himself around in George’s arms, smiling down at him and wrapping his arms around George’s shoulders and pulling him close, one hand laying on the back of his head to play with his soft, wavy hair– which had grown slightly longer in the lull between their haircuts. “I love you,” Dream whispered softly. George relaxed into the hug immediately, letting out a content sigh, pulling Dream closer and leaning his head further into his chest. Dream pressed a soft kiss to George’s head before resting his chin on top of it. They stood in comfortable silence for a few moments, before George broke it apprehensively.

“I, uh…” He began, and Dream lifted his head to look down as he hesitantly pulled back from the hug. George kept his hands clasped together behind Dream, leaning back to look up at him, big hands resting on his shoulders as he spoke. “I have… something to show you. If you’re not too busy.”

“Of course!” He nodded, smiling down at George as he took a step back and pulled his hands away, letting the other take the lead. “I’m never too busy for you, Georgie,” Dream reassured, making George let out a small chuckle, his smile growing as he nodded his head in understanding and grabbed Dream’s hand to lead him to his bedroom. He walked slow, his pace careful and delicate, sticking close to Dream even while he was in front of him.

Dream stayed close as well, playfully clinging to him, occasionally tugging his hand to pull him back into him and letting his free hand glide over George’s hip, lower back, shoulder, and upper arm to make sure he always had a hand on him. George smiled at the touches, fighting the urge to melt into it until they got to their destination, even if he flinched and giggled sweetly and batted his hand away when Dream tweaked his side briefly a few times.

They made it to George’s room in no time, George tugging Dream in and closing the door behind them. Dream watched his movements attentively, taking note of the slight pink tint to his cheeks. He pulled Dream over to the bed, having him sit in the middle of it– which Dream did without question, sitting cross legged on top of the plush comforter and fluffy throw blanket George had laying on the bed– before he leaned down to pull Dream into a gentle kiss, one finger gently tilting Dream’s chin up to meet him halfway.

“Hey,” Dream whispered before their mouths connected, his eyes flicking down to George’s lips before they closed, reaching his hands forward to rest on George’s waist. His smile grew as George pulled away, eyes slowly opening to see George’s pretty face just a few inches from him, and George smiled just the same, though much more bashful than Dream.

Then, his hands were being moved, guided by George’s shaky, hesitant fingers on his arms. They led him to the front of George’s sweatpants, where the draw string was loosely tied, ready to be undone with one quick pull. His hands paused where they were, his pinkies slipping gently into the waistband of the pants, between them and George’s boxers, and his thumb and forefinger caught the end of the string as he looked up at George for confirmation.

“This?” Dream continued to whisper, the teasing smile still present on his face– still growing, along with George’s embarrassment. “Is this what you want, baby?”

“Mhm,” George agreed with a nod, and the drawstring was undone. He took a step back to pushed the sweatpants down his thighs, letting them fall past his knees, down to his ankles, and then stepping out of them.

Then, Dream gathered what George had actually wanted to show him.

With the loss of George’s sweatpants, the tops of black thigh high socks were revealed– smooth and soft, the dark material a stark contrast to George’s lightly tanned skin, starting just a few inches above his knees even as he adjusted them, tugging them upwards and flattening the hem after removing his pants completely. He was left in only an oversized hoodie that he’d stolen from Dream, his black boxers, and the ever present thigh highs.

George stood up straight, wringing his hands in front of him, nervously fidgeting with his fingers. Dream gave him a soft smile, reaching his arms out to beckon him forward, working past the shyness that was presenting itself very strongly in George’s behavior– as it usually did, in situations like this.

“C’mere,” Dream coaxed quietly, and George took the two steps forward to stand against the end of the bed again, letting Dream rest his hands on the sides of his thighs, on the bare skin between where his boxers ended and the socks began. “You look so pretty, Georgie. You like them?” He asked, and he was given a shy yet enthusiastic nod in response, which he smiled at as he patted George’s thighs gently. “Good. I’m glad you like them, because I really, really, like them. You look… so good, and we are definitely coming back to these again in the future,” Dream continued with a giggle as George let out an embarrassed whine and covered his face with his hands, leaning forward to shove his head into the crook of Dream’s neck to hide further, only making Dream giggle harder and pull George in closer. “Aw, baby.”

“Shhhh…” George shushed, pulling back from Dream’s shoulder but keeping his hands resting there. He looked down at the bed, pausing for a moment, looking as if he was thinking quite hard about his next move, but he seemed to decide on it before Dream got the chance to ask what was on his mind. He carefully climbed on the bed, sitting back on his heels while he adjusted his position.

He ended up with his back against the pillows facing Dream, relaxing back into them as he kept his knees bent in front of him and his feet pressed firmly into the mattress. He bit his bottom lip, looking hesitant again, clearly having something else to show Dream but considering abandoning the whole operation. But, when Dream rested one hand on his knee and rubbed his thumb softly over the material that covered it, George relaxed into the bed completely and made the final push.

George rested his feet in Dream's lap, his ankles crossed as he tried to take up as little space as possible, in case he needed to pull away again if Dream showed any sign of dislike towards the newest addition to George’s display.

This addition, of course, was the padded cat paw prints on the bottom of the thigh highs, pink and plush, settled right on the ball of his foot and over his toes. Dream gasped softly, immediately taking one of George’s ankles in his hand to take a closer look at the paws, his fingers wrapping almost entirely around his ankle and making George whimper and squirm under the attention.

“Oh, baby,” Dream mused, making George whine again as he melted further into the pillows, curling and uncurling his toes a few times. Dream brought his other hand up to hold George’s ankle as well, now able to cup his narrow heel between both of his much larger hands. He rubbed his thumbs over the sole of George’s foot, making him tense up, the sensation amplified due to the soft material. George’s breath caught in his throat, making Dream’s eyes flicker up to his flushed face, a smile gracing his lips before he turned his full attention back to the foot in his hands. “S’this what you wanted to show me?”

“Mm– y-yeah…” George stammered, his breathing shallow and voice strained. He shifted his foot in Dream’s hold, flexing his toes.

“How long have you had this in that head of yours?” Dream asked curiously, brows pulling together as his thumb pressed gently into the bone of George’s ankle.

“Uh– a co- um… A bit…” George stuttered out, staring down at his hands in his lap when Dream looked over at him again. He brought one hand up to his mouth, curling his fingers in front of his lips nervously. “I, uh… I saw- saw them online and just kinda… bought them without thinking, and- and then when they got here I just…” George paused, both boys’ eyes flicking up to meet the others, and George swallowed against the lump in his throat before continuing, unsure how much longer he would be able to focus on speaking clearly with Dream’s warm hands cradling his foot so carefully. “So, it… it took me a little while to… and th- and then I just…” The older boy trailed off, completely lost in Dream’s eyes as they stared, unrelenting, into his own, kind and enamored and wholly in love.

Dream hummed calmly as George faltered, smiling sweetly at him before shifting his position again, turning to face George now. He took both of George’s ankles in his hands, shuffling closer and letting George’s other leg rest over his thighs. George breathed out with the movement, relaxing against the pillows behind him, and Dream kept his other foot still held up in his hands, focused intently on it, barely a few inches from his face. George squirmed under the attention.

Dream’s thumb slid against the inside of his foot, the tip of his fingers dragging down the same spot as well, making the older boy flinch and let out a soft gasp– which immediately caught Dream’s attention.

“What’s that?” He asked, voice gentle, and George couldn’t help the whimper that fell from his mouth at the question. Dream swiped his fingers up the inside of his foot again, making him jerk his leg in a pathetic attempt to pull away. “Is my kitty a little ticklish?”

“N-no…” George replied unconvincingly, well aware they both knew it was a lie. He nervously pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over his fingers, waiting for Dream to make his next move. Dream smirked at him, his lips curled evilly but his eyes still nothing but entranced by the sight in front of him, and George still felt like his skin was burning under such an intense gaze.

“Hm…” Dream hummed, testing his theory by trailing his nails lightly over George’s heel, using a slow jellyfish motion. George whined, attempting to subtly twist his foot out of Dream’s hold, but he simply held tighter around his ankle and scratched with more determination. George’s toes curled, his other knee coming up and resting his foot on Dream’s leg, pressing the padded toe beans into his thigh as he squirmed. “I think it tickles, baby.”

“Nohoho…” George denied, though his giggling picked up when Dream’s fingers crawled too close to the arch of his foot. He bit his bottom lip, wrapping his arms around himself and looking down at his lap, making Dream chuckle.

“You’re shy today,” He observed, earning an embarrassed whine from the other boy as he dropped his head back onto the pillows and sunk further into them. “You’re blushing so much. This is really getting to you, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

“Mmh– Dreheam–“ George giggled, still squirming, making the mistake of glancing up at Dream for no more than a second– but it was long enough for Dream to catch his eyes, and George was nodding and pouting in response to the question before he even realized what was happening, immediately burying his head in his hands once he did.

“Aww, baby…” Dream cooed between his jellyfish movements, and George whined again, more broken and embarrassed than ever before. Dream giggled at him, deciding to let him off easy and not dwell on it too much, wanting to let George feel however he wanted and let go as much as he could manage. “It’s okay. Just relax for me, pretty boy.”

And with that, he immediately scratched his nails over George’s arches, holding his ankle firmly in place and covering as much surface area as possible. George gasped, shooting upwards and slamming his hands down on the bed next to him.

“FUCK–“ George squealed, bringing one hand up to slam it over his mouth and throwing the other forward to try and grab for Dream’s hand. “DRE– ah– Dreheheheam, plehehease–“ He couldn’t quite reach far enough, though, ending up with his hand on his calf and sliding down until he could grip his own thigh, until he felt Dream’s ring and pinkie finger scratch over the inside of his foot, then his pointer and middle finger hit the spot just under the ball of his foot, and he was a goner. “NOHOHO– oh my gohohohohod!”

“Shhhh, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, just relax,” Dream soothed, giggling again when George’s foot twisted in his hold, trying to pull away. George whimpered, collapsing against the pillows again and throwing his head back into them, arching his back and breaking into helpless laughter.

“Fuck– Dreheheheam! Ihihit’s soho– ihihit–“ George attempted to plead, his desperate words blending together with continuous laughter, only broken by small squeaks and gasps for breath.

“I know, baby, I know…” Dream continued softly, nodding along with his words. “You’re okay. It’s okay.” Dream stopped tickling at his arches then, cupping his foot for a moment and squeezing to help him calm back down.

When he heard George let out a shaky breath, he continued, shifting his position. He pushed himself closer, leaning in and resting George’s ankle on his shoulder, smiling warmly at the other man when he looked at him with a confused expression. His questions were answered, though, when Dream began to rake his nails up and down George’s calf, the featherlight touch quickly turning unbearable over the thin material covering his legs. Remarkably, though, he melted into the touch, and his squirming stayed at a minimum, only shaky legs and involuntary twitches making their way through.

“You’re staying so still for me,” Dream began, chuckling at the small squeak he received when his nails scratched a little too close to George’s knee. “I know how hard this must be for you, sweet boy. You’ve always been so sensitive to this kind of thing.”

“Mm– Dreheheheeammm…” George whined through the steady stream of giggles that escaped his lips, curling his fingers over the sleeves of his hoodie and pressing his thumbs into his closed eyes. He let out a gasp when he felt Dream’s hands move upwards, one holding the back of his calf to keep it in place and the other moving to repeat the jellyfish motion over the top of his knee. “AH– nahaha!” George squealed, his leg jerking away from the cruel nails and his hands jumping down to hit and grab at the blankets underneath him.

“It’s okay,” Dream comforted, and then immediately went against his word as he scratched at the back of George’s knees, his hands attacking both legs now and making George kick his free leg out and tighten his trapped one, pulling Dream in closer.

“DREHEAM, plehehehease!” George pleaded through his giggles, squeezing his eyes shut and whining, until he felt his entire body jolt as Dream’s nails migrated to his thighs, scratching up and down the backs of them and making his laughter go even higher. “Oh myhyhy gohohohod, nohohoho! Nohoho, Dreheam, I cahahahan’t–“

“Shh, I know. I know, baby, you’re okay.” Dream began tracing circles over the back of George’s thigh, gently taking his other ankle and pulling it up onto his shoulder as well so he could mirror the action on both of George’s thighs. George whined desperately, his hips squirming against the bed uselessly as he pushed himself closer to Dream out of pure instinct. Dream smiled at him, sliding his palms up George’s legs until they reached his hips, and he pulled him the rest of the way in. “There we go. Is that better, kitty?”

“Mm–“ George whimpered, settling his hips back down on the bed between Dream’s legs and resting his hands on his knees. He hummed, content, and nodded at Dream’s question.

“Yeah? Good.” Dream delivered one gentle squeeze to George’s hips before moving his hands back up, rubbing gently over George’s thighs, slipping under the legs of his boxers before resuming his tracing on George’s inner thighs, right at the top seam of the thigh highs. George’s giggles picked up immediately, much more desperate and panicked than ever before, and Dream couldn’t help but comment on it. “This must be so hard for you, baby.”

“Fuhuhuck–“ George groaned out through his laughter, one hand squeezing the material of Dream’s pajama pants and the other moving to hide part of his face, as much as he could cover with one palm and spread fingers.

“Mhmm. You’re so ticklish here, aren’t you, my kitten?”

“Shuhuhut uhuhup…” George protested weakly, lightly punching Dream’s knee in futile attempts to get him to stop teasing.

“You’re doing so well, though. Such a good kitten,” Dream mused, completely enamored with the man in front of him, making him whine and squeeze his eyes shut, meeting into Dreams touch even further. His legs tightened again, one ankle turning to push on Dream’s shoulder again, and Dream giggled and leaned down to kiss him, practically bending the smaller boy in half as their lips connected in a sweet, gentle kiss. Dream hummed into the kiss, drinking it in, almost melting more than George before he pulled away to steady himself– he wasn’t finished yet, he had plenty more worshiping to do first. Instead, he smiled, and spoke again. “My perfect little kitten…”

“Oh, Dreheam…” George whispered, his eyes glassy, and Dream pressed a soft kiss to his cheekbone just under his eye before he sat up again, now letting George’s knees hang over his shoulders. “You can’t– you… you can’t just say thahat…”

“Well, that’s too bad, because I’ve got a lot more where that came from,” Dream replied, a smug smile on his lips, placing a kiss on George’s left knee next to him. This pulled another breathy giggle from George, and Dream glanced up at him fondly, repeating the action a few more times and getting a new string of giggles each time. “Does this tickle too, sweetheart?”

“Uh– ah! A-A little…” George mumbled, shy again, his toes flexing and curling against the plush pads resting on top of them.

“Hmm, yeah?” Another kiss. “A little?” Dream kept the teasing lilt to his voice, kissing up George’s inner thigh instead, one hand coming up to hold his leg steady where it rested on his shoulder. George squeaked, throwing an arm over his face and falling into helpless, bright laughter at the sensation. “More than a little, I see.”

“Ahahaha! Dreheheheam!” George’s laughter was high pitched and squeaky, his leg jumping and tensing in Dream’s hold as he continued to place dramatic kisses all over the inner part of his thigh, squirming against his boyfriend’s body and grabbing for anything he could. “Stohohop!”

“I can’t stop! You’re being so cute, I just have to kiss you!” Dream teased, giggling at the way George shook his head when he did so. “This really tickles that bad?” Dream asked, voice genuine, albeit still teasy, and George nodded his head quickly.

“Ihihihit’s–! Yohou- ihihit’s yohohour stupihid beheard!” George whined, and Dream mentally kicked himself for not realizing sooner.

“Oh!” He exclaimed, his smile returning. “Oh my god, Georgie, I didn’t even notice! But that’s even better!” Dream said with excitement, rubbing his stubble against George’s inner thigh and making him flinch and squirm all over again.

“Nohoho, ihihit’s nohot– AH! Nahahaha!” George squealed at the new feeling, his poor thigh trembling in Dream’s evil grip, practically begging to be let go– even if it was against George’s own wishes. “Dreheheam, c’mohohohonnn…” He whined, his ankles twisting and toes curling uselessly, legs kicking out behind Dream’s back before curling back in and pressing into his shoulders.

“Okay, okay, fine, I won’t do that anymore,” Dream relented, squeezing George’s ankle comfortingly and pulling back to let him catch his breath. Then, Dream continued with his gentle kisses, pressing his lips against George’s leg repeatedly, trailing down over his thigh, his knee, his calf, even to the bones of his ankle as he moved George’s leg along with his mouth, resting his heel on his shoulder while his other leg stayed draped over his back.

George’s giggles continued softly, no doubt still tickled by the scratches of stubble and ghosting of lips over the soft material of the thigh highs, but he still kept himself mostly composed– although, Dream wasn’t convinced he was actually composed, so much as completely lax and melted by the atmosphere of the situation.

“I love how relaxed you are,” Dream commented, tracing circles over the outer bone of George’s ankle with his thumb, making George hum and swallow against the lump in his throat. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you know how much I adore seeing you get hysterical. Or bratty.” George scoffed at this, rolling his eyes, but the smile on his face grew nonetheless. “But this is nice. I’m tickling you to pieces, and you’re just letting me, you’re just calm. It’s sweet.”

“Shut uhup…” George whined, pouting at Dream, making them both break out into happy giggles, Dream instinctively leaning down towards George to pull him in closer.

“You’re cute,” He finished, wrapping his whole hand around George’s ankle and lifting it off his shoulder. George scoffed again, letting out a sudden gasp when he felt Dream's lips ghost against the sole of his foot.

“No! Nohoho, no, nonono!” George whimpered, twisting his ankle and trying to free it from Dream’s tight grip. “Dreheam, nohohoho!”

“Shhh, it’s okay, kitty. It’s okay,” Dream soothed, voice soft, pressing soft kisses up and down the center of George’s foot.

“Noho, Dreheheam, plehehehease! Ahaha– plehehease!” He continued to plead, reaching forward to grab at Dream’s legs again, completely lost in his giggly laughter. Dream chuckled along with him, reaching his free hand forward to grab one of George’s, lacing their fingers together and squeezing comfortingly, letting George hold his hand as tight as he needed to expel the excess feelings he couldn’t get out through laughter and squirming. Dream decided to push further, letting out a playful growl and baring his teeth, nibbling incessantly on George’s arches and making him squeal in both delight and terror. “NAHAHA! Nohohoho, whyhyhy! Ihihit’s nohot fahahahair! It’s not fahahair, plehehease!”

“It is fair, baby, this is what you wanted!” Dream teased, earning a drawn out whine from his boyfriend, making him laugh happily once again, holding George’s narrow foot close to his lips so he could continue his nibbling for as long as he wanted. George’s whiny giggles continued, his hips squirming against the bed, his hand squeezing Dream’s fingers between his, his thighs shaking and feet attempting to kick. Soon enough, Dream felt something press into his cheek, and he pulled back for a moment to realize it was the plush pink pads of the paws that rested under George’s foot, his toes curled in to push just barely against his face. He smiled, watching George’s face as he blushed, whined, giggled his head off, did everything under the sun that wasn't looking back at Dream, and he could tell almost instantly that George wasn’t doing it intentionally– he probably didn’t realize he was doing it at all.

Until he did.

“Oh, do your little toe beans want attention too?” Dream teased, pushing in more, leaving George’s knee bent almost to his chest, his entire body folded in half under Dream’s body. He immediately whined and shook his head, curling his toes against the padding and throwing his free arm over his face once more. He gripped Dream’s hand tighter, pulling him closer, despite his embarrassment. “Aw, sweet boy, it’s okay. We can definitely make that happen.”

“Noho!” George squealed, tensing and whimpering when Dream’s hand grabbed around the middle of his foot. “Noho, Dreheheam, I cahan’t– I can’t take it, plehehease–“

“You can, baby, you can, it’s okay,” Dream soothed, rubbing his palm up and down George’s leg to calm him, grabbing his foot again. “You’re strong, aren’t you? My strong boy?” George couldn’t help but whimper and nod in response, and Dream smiles sweetly down at him. “Yeah, you are. You’re my good kitten. I know you can do it.”

“Mmh– Dream–“ George said with a pout, cut off by a sudden onslaught of laughter as Dream began nibbling on his toes. “AH– Dreheheheam! Oh my gohohohohod!” George squeaked, high pitched and frantic, arching his back off the bed and throwing his arm out to grab the sheets, squeezing them and Dream’s fingers equally as tightly, before falling into more helpless squirming. “Oh– GOHOHOD, Dreheheam, stohohop! Stop, stohohohop, STOHOP! Plehehehease!”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna stop,” Dream reassured, barely pausing his nibbles to speak, even as George was lost in floaty hysterics underneath him. “I'm gonna stop, it’s alright, just relax, don’t worry.”

“Plehehease, please, plehehehease! Dreheheam, I cahahahan’t!” George begged, sounding utterly hopeless, and Dream could tell he was being genuine– thought, he didn’t need to do much with that observation, as George tugged him closer with the leg around his shoulders, pulling him fully in and throwing his arms around his boyfriend’s neck. “Dreheheam– ah–! C’mohohon–“

“Okay, honey, okay,” Dream said through giggles, nodding along with George’s pleads, resting one hand flat on George’s tummy and rubbing gently over his hoodie, and using the other to card gently through his hair. “It’s okay, kitty, it’s alright. We’re done now, okay? You’re okay.”

“Mm–“ George whimpered, nodding, letting his hands slip down to fall onto the bed next to him, as if he was completely exhausted and holding them up was more effort than his body had left. Dream laughed at that, knowing it was an insane exaggeration, but humoring George anyway, placing both hands on George’s waist and rubbing his thumbs back and forth over the hoodie instead. He used his free hand to move George’s legs off his shoulders, letting them rest around his waist over his thighs instead, then leaned in to give George a long awaited kiss before speaking again.

“You okay?” He asked, slightly patronizing, but grinning wildly. George hummed and nodded, the smile on his face seeming permanently etched into his skin. “You liked that?” He asked, earning another nod, more eager this time. “Tired now, baby?” George nodded once more, frantically now, working up the strength to throw his arms around Dream’s neck one more time, making the other man break out into fond laughter. “Alright, baby, one second.”

Dream pressed another kiss to George’s forehead, moving them both around so he could lay next to George, pulling him in by his waist and taking his hands. He kissed the backs of George’s knuckles softly, scooting in close, and kissed him more– his forehead, then cheeks, then the tip of his nose, finally reaching his lips, where he stayed for a few moments, the two of them breaking apart and coming back together several times before finally pulling back.

“You did so good,” Dream praised, making George whine and shove his head in the pillow below him.

“Shut up,” He complained, muffled by the fabric, but Dream just laughed and hugged him tighter.

“I’m serious. You're such a good kitty, baby. My perfect kitten.” He kept his voice low, soothing, and he could already feel the way George’s body relaxed at the words.

“Hmm…” He hummed, curling himself into Dream’s chest and smiling. “Thank you.”

“Of course, my sweet boy,” Dream finished, kissing George’s head one last time before they fell into comfortable silence, only broken about ten minutes later by George’s even breathing, signaling that he’d fallen asleep at some point in that time.

Dream chuckled, closing his eyes as well, hugging George a little bit tighter as he followed suit soon after.

And, as he’d said in the beginning, they were totally, definitely, 100% coming back to the thigh highs very, very soon. He would make sure of it.

#i hope everyone enjoys this oneeeee #i was pretty nervous to post this bc of the Everything about it but #summer and mushie both seemed to really enjoy it so i’m feeling a little better now #i do love kitty george so much tho. he is so special to me. that’s my baby kitten :(#lee!george #ler!dream #cals writing #fav

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quirkle2 · 3 months

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who wants zombie au writing. don't answer that ur getting it anyway (1.6k words)

His shoes knock against the old flooring of the house, wood creaking under rubber soles that slide over the woodgrain. He drags them a bit, lifts his limbs up no more than he strictly has to, and they lead him to the nearest sittable surface.

The couch is old and dusty and has likely gone untouched for months, much like everything else nowadays, so he watches the thin cloud of dust billow off the cushions largely with disinterest. He collapses into the fabric heavily, feels the whole thing scoot back an inch and hit the wall behind him. The sound echoes, carried by lifeless rooms, while he unceremoniously drops his backpack to the floor by his feet.

The breath he lets out is slow and methodical and born of pent up muscles, aimed at the ceiling where he rests his neck against the back of the couch and relaxes every limb one by one. It’s a process he forces himself through, if only to rid the constant ache beneath his skin.

Slow, sweeping footsteps meander around the room in front of him, and Ritsu angles his gaze down from his craned back position to look at his brother. He wanders, like he so often does—seemingly aimless, but there’s something procedural about it that he’s convinced he just hasn’t figured out yet.

Shigeo’s empty eyes crawl along the hearth of the fireplace, explosions of ash sprayed out across the red brick. His head tilts up to trace his attention around the angular lines of the television, hung on the wall and screen grey with dust. He flits back and forth between the roundness of the bricked mantle and the sharp edges of the screen, like he’s taking notes.

Shigeo paws the television. Four lines of muck are cleared. The zombie blinks, paws at it again with dusty, curious fingers. Ritsu watches him make a mess of the television screen in silence, blinking tiredly.

He almost closes his eyes, but he fights against the urge and moves his fingers down his lap to reach for his bag. His middle hooks around the loop at the top and he lugs it up and into his lap, where he unzips it and peers into the shadowy contents.

Ritsu fishes out the water bottles. He finds the one with the messy R scribbled along the cap in sharpie and takes a big swig of it. It’s warm going down, constantly insulated in a bag of old, sweaty clothes. He feels like he can taste the odor in it, but it clears the grain in his throat from stomping all over dirt roads today, so he’s still grateful.

He holds out the one labeled S to Shigeo. “Thirsty?”

Shigeo looks at him from where he’s crouched down to the floor now, inspecting the soot along the hearth. Unfortunately, he sees handprints in the black already, and when his brother reaches a hand out to take it, his palm is covered in soot.

He lets him have his fun and settles his own bottle back in the mess of tangled clothes and rolls of bandages. Ritsu rakes his fingers through their stock with no real purpose—he knows exactly what’s in here, and none of it is useful.

They’d been searching all day; Ritsu doesn’t really know how far they’d walked, but it had to be a lot of miles. In and out of stores, up and down empty houses, weaving between warehouses—they didn’t really stop for a break. Not when Ritsu can hear Shigeo’s stomach from here and he himself has shaking hands. They can’t afford a break.

Nothing, though. Not a single goddamn thing worth taking. A settlement must have come through here long ago and swept the highway. They’re in the countryside, where houses are spaced out acres from each other and there’s entire cow pastures between properties. And yet every house they’d seen and entered provided nothing.

Ritsu stares into the negative space in his bag where there should be supplies. His stomach cramps and if he smells another whiff of that godawful sweaty, bloody sweatshirt he still carries, he’s going to throw up bile.

He leans away from the open pouch, eyes wandering to his brother who draws… something into the soot of the hearth. His water bottle sits on the floor, abandoned and still unscrewed. Ritsu leans forward with great effort and a grunt, leaning over his bag to grab at the top of it.

It takes him two tries to get Shigeo’s attention, and one more for an answer on where the cap is. It’s then placed in his palm, covered in soot and also saliva. Ritsu swallows down the nausea that rolls up his throat and wipes it off with his frankly already disgusting sleeve, and screws it back on.

He leans back again, succumbing to the urge to let his eyes rest, and he listens to the very subtle swipe of his brother’s hands across brick. There’s birds outside, chirping, and even though it’s still very much a common occurrence, Ritsu cannot help but feel nostalgic about it.

If he ignores the awful hum of silence, and the distinct lack of an electric thrum throughout the walls, and the fact that this is a stranger’s couch and not his, he can almost imagine normalcy. He can almost say this feels like those quiet moments after school, when he settles on the couch and scrolls through his phone in a house that only holds him and his brother because their parents simply aren’t home yet.

He can almost hear the creak of wood from Shigeo walking around his room upstairs. He can almost tap his fingers on the couch cushions to the pattern of his brother making his way down the steps. He can almost hear the fridge opening, and the sound of milk being poured into glass.

Almost. But Ritsu listens to sharp silence instead, and he tries not to think too hard.

He drifts for a while, feels himself truly sink into the couch and let the cushions claim him, and he thinks about nothings because if he doesn’t, then he’ll lose it. He carefully sifts through the nothingness of his mind, through the passing thoughts that have no bearing, and he focuses on that, on the lack of substance. His head is too full of things that have too much substance.

He misses boredom. He tells himself he misses boredom—the complete insubstantiality of it—because if he lets himself think of what he really misses, it’ll drive him insane.

The cushions move, and Ritsu peels his eyes open and lets himself get pulled from liminal mindspace. The cotton in his head recedes, and he blinks, and then he’s swiveling his head to look at his brother who sits in the cushion right next to him.

His hands and the cuffs of his hoodie are smothered in black. Shigeo sits hunched, gaze still wandering even when there’s not much decoration in this house to look at. He studies the off-white walls, the chips in the paint, the holes drilled in where there maybe used to be photos hung.

Ritsu gazes at him quietly, chest instinctively rising and falling to match his brother’s rhythm. He watches the expansion there, under his hoodie, in the subtlety of the folds and the way they warp over the movement. It’s slightly quicker than what he’s used to, but Ritsu knows his brother’s heart rate is much slower. He’s felt it before. He’s listened to it before, with his ear against a chest.

Ritsu’s attention moves to his eyes, and the heavy bags underneath them, and the paleness of his pupils and the ghostlight of him underneath that. He stares into them, looks for stray, familiar thoughts that might enter his head. Looks for old memories that might shine through in the form of recognition when he sees furniture layouts, and candy wrappers, and ads for soda.

Ritsu looks for it all the time, that glint of familiarity. And he finds it, sometimes. And really, he thinks that’s keeping him going more than food ever will.

Shigeo turns his head, and looks at him. Sometimes, when his brother looks at him, there’s not much there. No substance, no anything. And Ritsu finds it a bit evil that he craves silence in his own head, and yet noise in Shigeo’s, and often times it is the other way around.

His brother looks at him now, though, with that comforting recognition. That growth of the pupils, that softening of the hard edges of his face where unknown stressors have gotten to him. Ritsu wonders what zombies get stressed out. He figures it’s the same deal with humans, considering they’re largely alike.

Ritsu wonders if Shigeo knows he’s sick. He wishes he could ask him. He wishes for a lot of things. Silence in his own head is one of them.

Ritsu swivels his head away and stares at the ceiling, if only to force the thoughts to pause. He studies the popcorn ridges above them, traces the peaks with his gaze. It calms him, gives him something to focus on. He looks for patterns in the shadows they make.

Shigeo shifts next to him. And then he shimmies down, settles into the cushions, and plops his head right down on Ritsu’s shoulder.

Static roars in his mind and his heart stammers. Ritsu swallows the lump in his throat but that just makes it bigger, so he clamps his mouth shut and breathes carefully through his nose.

The tears cut through the grime on his face. He plops his own head down against his brother’s, and lives in the noise.

#qkwrites #zombie au #hi <3 #why am i nervous to share this . jayshut up #just to be clear this isn't going to be a full fic #i don't ? believe in my ability to write a Good zombie apocalypse story #at least one in a novel-like layout yaknow #partly bc i know i'll struggle w the logistics and consistency #but also bc i haven't seen a whole lot of zombie media before #i've never watched the walking dead i've never seen any of the popular zombie movies or shows #i think i watched zombieland 2 once ... the one with woody harrelson and thatone guy #uhm. he looks a bit like michael cera but he's Not michael cera. im not crazy he Does resemble him #jesse eisenberg there it is #but that's.the extent of my experience with zombie things #so i!!! wouldn't know if im just making overdone cliche shit #i prolly already am.this concept is prolly old news. i wouldn't know i don't fucking watch zombie stuff VGEAIYVA #idk.my confidence for this isn't there so im not makin it a fic even tho i kinda want to #but i do still wanna write them. so any zombie au writing will be in little micro-scenes like this <3 #some of em might be bigger than others idk yet. we'll see #i Thought i could call this a drabble. but then i learned that drabbles are literally supposed to be exactly 100 words #this is . notthat GVIYEAGVA #ritsu kageyama #mp100 ritsu #mp100 shigeo #mp100 mob #shigeo kageyama #i feel bad putting this in the main tags but.i mean it Does pertain ....#not the mp100 tag tho . iwon't do that to u

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