#Three Reasons Why Cats Sometimes Bite

[thatsbelievable]

[calaisreno]

Let Me Have This

1554 words / Prompt: Do-Over

She’s determined to take it all away from him. Every damn thing. All the little things. 

He wonders why he didn’t notice it happening. The little smirks when she reads his blog. The comments when he mentions Sherlock, insignificant but biting. It’s been systematic, and he’s let it happen. 

None of it seemed worth arguing about. When he met her, he’d already mourned and tried so many times to put it away, to think of it as something that he would endure. Something terrible, but that’s how life is, the good and the bad, and you still have to go on living. He survived.

So he hadn’t argued; that would have taken too much energy, and he never had enough of that in those days. 

She’d been wonderful, really, at the beginning. She’d gone to the grave with him, stood by him, let him mourn. She’d been patient, lovingly patient, urging him back into life. 

“Are you never going to eat Thai food again?” she would ask. 

Or: “Why do you keep this old jumper with the burn holes? It’s unwearable.” 

Or: “We don’t need to take the newspaper. You can read it online.”

And gradually, she had replaced every damn thing with a new thing. New jumpers, Korean food. A different brand of tea. Romantic films. Different news programs. 

Even his old, stained mug. “It was chipped,” she said.

None of it was unreasonable, taken as individual actions. But all together it made his old life seem flawed, as if he hadn’t done anything right until he met her. 

He did notice. But he’d thought she was something good in his life, a new beginning, a person who knew what she wanted. It was flattering to be pursued. 

Every relationship requires a partner who gives in, who is the more reasonable one, the one who lets things go. He saw that in his parents, his mother headstrong and insistent, his father calm and accepting. Yes, dear.

That was how they were, before. Sherlock led, John followed. Sherlock had strops and broke crockery and said awful things sometimes, and John smoothed it all over. Or when he finally couldn’t, he would have his own strop, tell Sherlock to stop— 

You machine. 

He hadn’t seen that coming, either. His role was reining Sherlock in, pulling him back from the edge. That’s what he’d thought was happening. As it turns out, he was wrong. 

Maybe that’s why he can’t be the one to say, Stop it. Let me have this.

He doesn’t deserve a life now because he didn’t protect Sherlock when it really mattered. He let him go over the edge, fall—

Mary is a do-over. He was punishing himself, and she appeared, offering him a chance at something better. Letting himself be loved, cared for. She’s competent, not nostalgic. 

It’s an insidious trap, a carefully laid one. Where she could have let him mourn, let him remember who he was when he loved Sherlock— she has tried to reshape all his memories. Sherlock was a child, she seems to say; you were a fool to make yourself responsible for him. He had you under his thumb because he really was a sociopath. He didn’t care about you. He didn’t love you. I’m the best thing that could have happened to you.

And now, she’s taken the last thing. 

I like him. She said that in the cab, coming home. Home, to the flat she picked out and decorated, where there isn’t even one tiny piece of John Watson. 

She’d seen his anger, his grief. She’d been outraged, on his behalf. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to him? His anger was right. She’d affirmed it.

But afterwards she smiled like the cat who got the cream. As if it had all gone according to plan. She likes Sherlock. She’s going to talk him around. And once again, John will be the unreasonable one. 

And he sees how it will go. She’ll take credit for bringing them back together. It will be the three of them now. And of the two of them, Sherlock will find Mary the more interesting one, the one who really gets him. They will bond, and John will be the one they joke about. The third wheel. Poor John. He can see her tagging along on cases, texting Sherlock, giggling with him about private jokes. 

She’ll let him have Sherlock, as long as it’s clear that she owns John now. 

Let me have this. 

If he wants it, he’s going to have to take it back. He’s going to have to say no to Mary, if he wants Sherlock back. He’s still angry, but now that he sees what’s happening, he can’t unsee it. He’ll never be happy in the life she’s prepared for him, free from all the clutter and disarray of life with Sherlock. She’ll keep him in their tidy flat and let him out to go play with Sherlock. And if he ever starts to crave that life again, she’ll find a way to separate him from it. 

It’s after midnight and he’s standing outside of 221B. He’s already mentally rehearsed several versions of an apology when his phone buzzes. 

Are you coming up? SH

He smiles. 

Oscillation on the pavement. An affaire de coeur? SH

Sherlock still signs his texts, and this is oddly comforting. At least something hasn’t changed. 

Climbing the stairs, he thinks about the last time he went out and closed the door behind him, never to return. He’s been back once to see Mrs Hudson, but never up these stairs. 

The door is open, and he stands on the threshold, taking in everything that two years haven’t changed. The flat looks just as it did on the last day he stood here. It’s like time travel. 

But he’s still Future John, the one who grieved, who hit his best friend when he returned as John had begged him to do. The one with regrets.

And Sherlock is different too. He stands at the window, looking down at the street as if he’s expecting someone. His posture is taut, careful.

“I hope… I’m not intruding.”

Sherlock turns and faces him. The split lip has healed, but there is caution in those grey eyes. John never wants to see that look again, not directed at him. 

“Come in, John.”

He does, glancing at his old chair, then staring at his own feet, words having deserted him. Sherlock gestures for him to sit, but he feels like a guest in what used to be his home, and it’s painful. He remains standing.

“Something is wrong,” Sherlock says. “You’ve quarrelled with Mary.”

“No.” He closes his eyes. “She’s fine. It’s me. I’ve made a mistake.”

Sherlock steps closer, cocking his head and silently deducing him. “A mistake?”

I’ve proposed to a woman I don’t know because I couldn’t go on without you. I hit my best friend because I couldn’t bear…

He looks up at Sherlock, tears filling his eyes. “Can you forgive me?”

The look on Sherlock’s face is surprise. “John, you need not apologise. If there is to be an apology, it should come from me. I should not have approached you as I did.”

“Can we… just…” He sniffs. “Could we pretend that the last few days haven’t happened yet? You’re back, and I’m—”

“You’re asking for… I believe it’s called a do over?”

He laughs through his tears. “Yes, that’s what I want.”

Sherlock smiles. “Where do we begin?”

“Let’s say I’m not at dinner, not proposing to Mary. You’re not wearing a silly fake moustache—”

“You’ve shaved yours off.”

“Yeah, you were right. So. I don’t have a moustache, and I’ve come over to have a look up here, because… I’m about to take a step that feels irrevocable, one I wouldn’t be taking if you were alive.”

Now Sherlock looks puzzled, but he doesn’t speak. 

“My therapist has been bugging me to say something… to you. Something I wished I’d said… before. And I couldn’t say after. But I need to say now.”

Lips parted, Sherlock is frowning. “Say… what?”

He closes his eyes. “You were the best. The best person I’ve known. The best friend. You saved my life, gave meaning to what was left of it. And I… I love you. I don’t care that you were married to your work, or that you despise sentiment. I love you, and I wish I’d said it before.”

Laying a hand on Sherlock’s heart, he feels it beating, alive. “I want to come back. Come home. Live with you.”

“But… Mary?”

“A mistake. And you’ve just given me the impossible. The thing I asked for. Please, will you forgive me?”

Sherlock is silent. He stares over John’s shoulder, blinking as if that genius brain has gone offline. 

“Sherlock?”

The pale eyes focus on him. “You want to come home? Here? You love me?”

“Yes. I know you don’t—”

“Just to be clear, when you say love —”

John puts his arms around him. “This.”

As he looks up, expecting to see Sherlock frowning, the most extraordinary thing happens. 

There are tears in Sherlock’s eyes, and he’s about to—

When the kiss ends, Sherlock holds him pressed against his chest. “Just to be clear,” he says. “I love you too.”

--

Posted on AO3 here.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

okokok how abt a wlw vampire villain x human hero. pls cat. DO IT FOR THE GIRLYS WHO ARE GIRLY FOR OTHER GIRLYS!

The blood was dripping down her fingers and even though she couldn’t help but feel relieved, her hand was shaking. It had gotten worse. She had become more violent. The last little traces of her humanity were slipping through her fingers like sand.

It was horrifying. She looked down at the bodies, three bankers in total who’d been on their way to lunch. Her mind couldn’t comprehend how she’d done it.

How she had ripped out their throats to feed on the fresh blood.

“What a mess…” she mumbled to herself as she went through her hair. Her hand was bloody. “Oh, fuck.”

“Leave the bodies to me.” The vampire turned around upon hearing her voice.

She could count herself lucky that her nemesis was beginning to fancy her. One night when she had captured the vampire, the “imprisonment” had turned into an almost three hour long conversation about mortality and the curse of being a vampire.

The vampire guessed she pitied her.

“No…it’s not your job to clean up after me.”

“I offered to get you some blood donations but I failed to deliver them to you on time. This is on me.”

The vampire shook her head. She felt stronger than a few hours ago and yet, her muscles were aching from the fight.

“No, it’s not the same. Blood from a bag isn’t the same. This is my fault. I need to hunt, I need living, breathing prey. Oh God, I’m so doomed.” She felt the frustration crawl up her throat. She felt like throwing up.

“Hey, deep breaths,” the heroine said. She grabbed the vampire’s elbows and turned her away from the bodies. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner but I can guarantee we’re working on this together.”

“I’m a monster.” The vampire hid her face behind her hands. “What am I doing? Why did this happen to me?”

“Hey, sometimes shit happens and you can’t really—”

“I was a normal girl, I had an office job for Christ’s sake. I deserved a good normal, boring life.” She frowned and her lips trembled. “I didn’t want anything extraordinary.”

Suddenly, the heroine took her hands.

“Hey, I know it’s a lot and you’re still getting used to this. But I believe this happened for a reason. I know you will find a way to deal with this and I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

The vampire lowered her hands and looked at their saviour, little fangs peeking through her lips.

“I’m so scared.”

“There’s no need to be. You’re brilliant. You’re—”

The vampire knew why. She knew why she grabbed the heroine, nails digging hard enough into her skin to leave marks. She knew why saliva gathered in her mouth and why she needed to bite her.

The heroine’s pulse had gone wild when they’d gazed each other. The vampire had heard and felt it.

But she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t press her teeth into her like she was some kind of meat. She couldn’t do that to her, she couldn’t kill her like that.

Right before her teeth could scrape her skin, the vampire froze.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

Her grip finally loosened and the heroine seemed to breathe for the first time. She was blushing and her heart was beating relentlessly.

The vampire could barely keep it together.

“You— you should leave,” the heroine said. “I’ll, uh, report this mess and take care of it. Call me.”

Unfortunately for the heroine, the vampire knew she’d been a little too attracted to that.

[cupcaketeddybehr]

late night matcha lattes

suguru x gn!reader (part 1! does this need additional parts?)

genre: fluff

word count: 1.6k

blurb!: you own a little cat cafe that sugu becomes a regular at! he likes the way your matcha lattes soothe his throat after a long day of swallowing curses. sugu does not defect in this one <3 also includes best friend satoru! sugu and toru are both teachers at jujutsu high!

a/n: hi!!! my name is allie! this is the first fic i’ve written in seven years! please be nice! im sensitive <3 thank you for being here! i hope my blog brings you comfort and happiness!

-------------------------------------------------------

you yawn into your hand as you carefully pour foam on yet another cup of matcha. after running your little cat cafe for the past two years, you’re convinced that you could make everything on the menu with your eyes closed. since your cafe is open until 1 am from monday to friday, sometimes you do. your eyelids flutter open and closed, on the edge of sleep, when you hear the golden bell on the door jingle. your friend, and the reason why your cafe stays open so late, walks in.

“y/n!!” satoru whisper-yells, not wanting to disturb your other customers.

snapping out of your sleepy state, you wave at him while you prepare his usual caramel latte with extra caramel drizzle in navy blue bear mug. “hi satoru!!”

he comes up to your tiled counter and leans forward on his elbows. “i’m so happy for your business, but your customers keep buying out my sweets.” he grumbles, pointing at your empty dessert case usually filled with strawberry shortcakes, tiramisu, tanghulu, and his favorite, kikufuku.

“you really think i’d forget about my favorite customer that quickly?” you laugh. “whenever have i ever let you down?” you say as you pull a case of kikufuku out from the freezer behind you.

satoru instantly grabs the case out of your hands and shoves three down his throat at once. “ohmmm my goshhhhmmm you’re the mmmm bestmmm” he mumbles between bites. after finishing the entire box of kikufuku, he sips his latte with one of your cafe cats on his arm. choco, your york chocolate cafe cat, purrs as he pets her. you two talk about what happened during his mission and what crazy customers you encountered during the day. he drones on as you clean up all your equipment, feed the cats their dinner, and flip the ‘open’ sign to the other side. time flies, and two hours pass, when, suddenly, his head quickly snaps up as his eyes go wide and he exclaims “SHIT. I FORGOT.”

“forgot what?”

“i promised my best friend, suguru, that i’d bring him a matcha to soothe his throat like three hours ago.” he says, as he looks at you sheepishly. “i know you already cleaned up all your supplies but-“

“yes satoru, i’ll make your friend his drink.” you huff, taking out your matcha powder, whisk, and chashu. “is he sick?”

“no, but at this point, he might as well be” satoru grimaces. “his cursed technique is swallowing curses.”

“oh god. i bet that tastes AWFUL.” having dropped out of tokyo jujutsu high before deciding to follow your dream of running a cafe, you’re familiar with the wide array of cursed techniques, but you’ve never met anyone who swallowed curses. slightly offended that satoru never introduced you, you wonder why he’s never come by to visit your cafe. it’s a known fact that you love to feed and spoil the jujutsu sorcerers when they stop by after their missions.

after pouring the matcha on top of the milk, you complete the latte with beautiful swan latte art. you cap the latte and draw a smiling cat on the side of the cardboard cup. “I hope you feel better!” you write, adding a heart at the end. you proudly hand your creation over “you better be careful with my beautiful art.”

“yeah, yeah” satoru laughs as he walks toward the door. he smiles, “you’re the best y/n.”

“i know” you giggle as you close the door behind him, ready to load the cats into your car to take them home.

——————————————————

the next day passes quickly. you keep the dessert case stacked, knowing that satoru’s students had a mission today. a mission always meant that they were going to stop by the cafe for at least a few hours after.

“Y/N!!!” yuji and nobara yell as they barrell through the french doors to your cafe. megumi walks six feet behind them and waves at you. during the first few months of running your cat cafe, you had thought that he hated you. turns out, he’s just a bit of an emo boy.

you smile happily, loving the company. while they pet your cats and take a seat on the beanbags you have on the floor, you prepare a specialty blend tea in a matte black mug for megumi. for yuji and nobara, you pour two sodas into tall, clear glasses with googly eyes on them. after handing them their drinks, you arrange a dessert spread on a wooden charcuterie board and place it on the wooden table in front of them.

while taking a break to look around the little space you’ve turned into a sanctuary for many, you hear the bell on the door jingle again. satoru walks in before who might just be the prettiest, most handsome man you’ve ever seen. while satoru waves frantically with both arms from across the cafe, his friend offers you a small smile, his hands in his pockets. as he walks over, you can’t help but notice the way his shiny black hair cascades down his shoulders. you take a mental note to ask him for his hair care routine later.

“this is suguru!” satoru introduces proudly, gesturing towards the beautiful man beside him. “he said that the matcha you made yesterday was the best matcha he’s ever had!”

you blush, “awww, that’s so nice of you suguru! my name is y/n!” you say. “i can prepare you another one if you’d like!”

“that would be amazing. that matcha got the taste of curses out of my mouth quicker than anything else i’ve ever eaten.” he says while smiling. “i absolutely hate the taste of those things.”

you nod as you craft another matcha latte for him, drawing a little cat on top with the foam. “a cat for you!” you exclaim happily.

“i love it y/n. it’s so cute. thank you so much.” he says gratefully. he takes the mug from you with both hands and glaces over his shoulder to shoot you a smile as he sits next to satoru on a long brown couch. after placing his mug down on the coffee table, he picks up your black cat, poki, and leans back into the fuzzy couch material.

————————————————

the next day, you close the shop early because your desserts sold out quicker than you thought they would. after shooting satoru a quick message that you would just deliver his kikufuku to his apartment tomorrow, you started to sweep the little cake crumbs from around the cafe. suddenly, you hear a soft knock. suguru waves from behind the glass doors.

as you unlock them and let him in, he says, “i’m so sorry, i know you’re closed, i just really needed a matcha latte today.” he coughs out between breaths.

worried, you rush behind the counter to prepare the fastest matcha you’ve ever made in your life. a foam heart adorns the top of the latte. “did something happen? are you okay?”

he takes the mug with both hands and gulps the contents down in a few seconds. he looks down at the floor. “i just really hate that i have to eat curses.”

you bend over to look at his face. “what happened today? do you want to talk about it?”

he waves his hand in dismissal, “let’s talk about you. what did you do today?”

you smile sadly at him, pitying his need for a distraction. “i finished redrawing my menus!” you say, showing him the updated menus (complete with cute doodles) on your ipad.

“you drew that?” he says, in awe. “you’re so talented, y/n.”

“i’m really not! i’m sure you could do it too!” you suggest, offering him your ipad and pencil. “draw a cat or something in the corner!”

he begrudgingly takes it and hunches over in concentration with his tongue between his teeth. when you try to peek over the counter to look at it, he turns away from you. “it’s a surprise” he says with a happy glint in his eyes. every so often, he looks at you and back at his drawing. when he hands you back your ipad, you gasp in surprise. in the corner is the most precious little doodle you’ve ever seen.

“do you know who that is?” he asks. he doesn’t wait for you to answer and excitedly points at all the little details on the pretty little character he’s drawn. “that’s your hair.” he points again, “that’s the cafe apron you always wear. and that’s the bow you always wear.” when he’s done, he looks up and grins. you notice that the apron on his creation has the exact same stains as your real-life one.

your heart swells, and you don’t think you’ve ever been this touched in your whole life. he captured the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, and the way your cheeks pink when you blush. “this is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“you’re sweet for making me matcha even when you were ready to go home. thank you so much.”

“of course!” you say. “if you ever want to talk about what happened, i’m always here. i can bake us something to eat while we talk about it!” you offer.

“why don’t we bake something together?” suguru asks.

[scarlet-ancunin]

omg BATSTARION, please can you please write about Tav being a druid ( a cat or dog whatever you like) who visits a cave just to visit Batstarion, and then one day Astarion is normal sitting in the cave waiting for the cat to visit and when they do it is Tav and that is the first time they see each other as there normal self.

A/n: heh sure okay, and because Astarion is a cat person and we purr for him i will make our gn Tav a cat but they will also be a druid for obvious reason. Enjoy~

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧

We Meet Again

Tav made it a tradition to visit a cave near the beach at Baldur's Gate it was secluded and did have a pretty sight of the ocean and the sunsets. Today was just like any other day, small black paws trailed along the familiar path towards that cave entrance.

Being a druid came with perks and this certainly was one of them since said cave wasn't exactly big it was small so by rights of being this size Tav deemed it a cave to them.

The question was, why did Tav visit this cave? They always seemed to come three times a week when they had business near this part of the city. Well as they crawled into the falled rubble they walked along until they hopped on top of a large but smooth surface.

"Meow" Tav called out softly and after a few moments They could hear the familiar flap echoing before a white bat with a unique curl of fur on top their head, with red eyes and cute little fangs of course their perception failed since they didn't had a red flag seeing them.

The bat simply plops on Tav's cat body and squeaks loudly flapping his wings as if happy to see them. The other perk of being a druid a special ability to speak to animals without spending money on animal speaking potions.

"Hello darling its been to long" The white bat squeaks at the end and flops dramatically on Tav's furry back. They rolled their eyes lays carefully as to not disturb the moment. "It was only a day ago i saw you" "still long as far as im concern, now say your sorry"

Tav's ears twitch lightly before saying sorry which seemed to brighten his mood once more. In truth Tav felt bad to be deceiving the cute little white bat since they can shift to human but they was thinking about taking them home where they can see the sights instead of being stuck in a cave. Sometimes they would bring him something to eat insects. He appreciated the kind gestures but Tav noticed he would look dazed whenever it was brought and they seemed sad on those days so Tav rarely does it luckily Astarion informs they he does eat.

Tav also had a odd infatuation with this dramatic Bat, sure it wouldn't be normal but they always wanted to be with him whenever they can and spend as much time as possible.

Tav decided to do something different today "when the sunsets can we sit at the beach" the bat scrunch his tiny face "thats new why?" Tav ears went back their paw lightly pushing a stray pebble Astarion found it cute seeing that meant they was embarrassed.

"I wanted to see the stars with you. Thats what your name means after all" Astarion was surprised by this squeaking cutely and flapping his wings before crawling over cutely and climbing unto Tav's back once more "only if you carry my last thing i want is my nails getting dirty by sand" he complains and They purr loudly as if happy. Luckily no one mentioned it.

The calm waves was soothing to hear whole the stars seemed to give them a beautiful scenery twinkling away like a person that is carefree.

Tav sat on the sand looking at the Moon slowly rising reflecting nicely on the ocean waves while Astarion was resting on top of there head squeaking happily. "Your right this is nice" he sniffs the air making his little nose twitch before looking down at Tav having the sudden urge to bite them. So he does and nips their ear making the black cat yelp low and hiss "Astarion you promised you wouldn't do that", "At that time not now so it doesn't count" he turned his little bat head to the side slightly and squeaks.

They stayed they way until Astarion slowly fell asleep on top of Tav while they curled up. Of course Tav woke up in time to gentle wake Astarion to head back inside since they had to go there was a sad look in his eyes if the sudden wetness around the cute red pupils didn't say anything. He made his way back inside whole Tav ran back to the city tiny paws left behind.

There was a week since Astarion last saw Tav. He missed them he also felt bad for lying to them because this was not his form. He made up his mind to take Tav home with him so she won't live on the streets anymore. His home wasn't big but it was in the corner of the city and blocked the sun a little better.

When the wall of the cave he was in crumbles more and a human crawls in now they both stare at each other shocked "your-" Astarion says at the same time Tav says "your not"

Now they stare at each other Tav slowly feeling a blush growing since the man before them was very handsome. "So your not an actual bat" Tav asked suddenly after they realized they was staring.... Respectfully. "Clearly not darling, but your not an actual cat so i suppose we both are full of surprises"

Tav chuckles and suddenly hugs Astarion which surprised the man but he slowly responds to it slightly awkwardly but he surprisingly welcomed it to it felt nice. Upon agreement Tav wanted Astarion to stay with them so they wont be alone and possibly make more money together then separate. Which Astarion agreed to after informing them he was... well a vampire Spawn which Tav didn't mind oddly. "I figured it out finally when you keep nipping me on those occasions and the bite mark on my cat ear left two tiny holes"

"Its sunny outside i cannot-" "turn into a bat and go inside my cloak" Tav said this to happy and almost as if they hoped he would. "Uh. Okay" he ignored how they whispered yes happily before shifting into a white bat with that same unique curl before slipping into their cloak tiny head peeking out which They happily pet the top of earning a content Squeak.

"Im truly happy i met you Astarion"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧

Narrator: Little did Tav know the small creature in their bossom was just as happy to have met them.

Hope you like this~

BTW your welcomed to send me Batstarion and im oddly interested in Astarion being a father he deserves to be happy so you can send me those as well yep :)

[starstruckkittensweets]

puppy love (iii)

Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

fandom: bungo stray dogs

I didn't mean for this to be so long. I'm so sorry. I just really like writing about Chuuya interacting with dogs. Again I apologize (but I hope you enjoy)! (And the panel comes from the manga Kimi ni Todoke!)

warnings: fem reader, pet names (doll, lady, etc.), mentions of pet abandonment in the past, mentions of stray dogs, slight angst towards the end, a bit of mutual pining (but they don't know it yet bc they're kinda dumb) || words: 5.5k

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

Chuuya has never known himself to be nervous.

Wary? Sure. Itching to get something over with? Absolutely. Pissed off beyond all belief? Of fucking course—he’s put up with Dazai for all these years, hasn’t he?

But he’s never felt quite like this. Standing in front of the shabby little shop you call home, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, fingers twitching in his pockets—not to mention the swarm of butterflies that’s taken refuge in the depths of his stomach. His throat is unnaturally dry, beads of sweat gathering at his forehead.

Why the fuck is he so damn nervous?

He has no reason to be. He knows no danger lies beyond that door, none whatsoever. And even if there was a fight waiting for him, he’d come out on top in two seconds flat.

Nothing to worry about. It’s just you and those dogs you keep yammering on about.

(Maybe that’s why he’s so worried.)

He shakes his head and knocks on the door. You’ve already turned the lights down, placed the closed sign right there in the window, and yet he can hear you scurrying on the other side of the door. A few seconds later it swings open, and the sight of your smile immediately puts him at ease.

“I’m so glad you could make it!”

He steps inside as you shut the door behind him. One of the lights flicker on, bathing the room in a warm golden glow.

This is the first time he’s actually seen your shop, and he’s pleased to find it looks much more comfy than the outside. A bit small in size, but the selection of pet supplies is plenty enough to brag about. Different brands of dog and cat food, assortments of leashes and collars in all kinds of colors, rows of dog toys and treats lining the counters. The floors are clean, the blinds are shut, and everything seems to be in order.

But not a single pup in sight.

“You want anything to drink?” You’re already motioning him to follow you behind the counter, towards the back of the store. “It’s alright, I’m the only one here. I won’t tell anyone,” you add with a wink.

Fuck, more annoying butterflies.

“That’s fine, I’m alright.” He sheds his overcoat and hangs it on one of the hooks by the door, but leaves the hat perched on his head. Luckily you don’t question it.

“They’re in the back, follow me.”

There’s a spring in your step as you lead him through the back hall, through a set of double doors and into what looks like a lounge of some kind. A slightly-worn couch rests by the corner, as well as a table with only a couple chairs to keep it company. But he doesn’t have time to survey the whole room before you disappear through another door, and he picks up the pace just to keep up with you.

Finally you come to a stop, resting a hand on the doorknob and throwing him a smile over your shoulder.

“They’re inside. You ready?”

He swallows the collection of cobwebs in his mouth. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

But you don’t open the door. Don’t even move an inch. You just stare at him with those big eyes, those pretty eyes, as your lips shift into a frown.

“…What?” Did he do something wrong? Did he fuck this up already?

“You don’t have to be nervous, you know.”

“I’m not nervous,” he says a little too quickly, and he bites back a groan when you give him a knowing smile.

“It’s alright, they can be a lot to handle sometimes. But they’ll love you, I promise! Besides, you’ve met three of them already. The other five are gonna be all over you when they see you!”

Two, he corrects you internally. He’s met two of them so far, the third one keeps his distance and fucking glares at him. Hardly a win in his book. Are any of the others like that? Or is it just that one who’s got a stick up his ass?

No, don’t be like that. It’s not the dog’s fault it doesn’t like people; hell, Chuuya himself doesn’t even like people all that much. The nerves are just making him feel on edge.

Fuck it, he’s not nervous!

“They won’t bite,” you add with a laugh, but he still remains locked in his spot behind you. So you hold out a hand and tilt your head, reminding him of the night he first met you. So much like that one dog you have, the shiba pup. “They love meeting new people. And if Kotaro already loves you”—oh yeah, that’s the shiba’s name—“then the others are sure to follow his lead.”

The way you’re looking at him, a gentle look in your eyes, hand outstretched hopefully in his direction…

It’s no big deal. It’s just a bunch of dogs. He loves dogs, right? Never met a dog he didn’t like! They just happen to belong to you, and you’ve…just got a lot of them. Nothing too major, he’s dealt with much worse in his life.

But that’s just it. They’re your dogs, not just stray animals he crosses paths with on the street. They mean the absolute world to you, he knows it in the way you talk about them. You show it in the way you clutch Kotaro to your chest, pressing kiss after kiss to his furry head. The way your eyes light up at even the slightest mention of one of your dogs, how you’re so eager to brag about the new trick they learned or what they did at the park earlier that day.

You love them with everything your heart has to offer…and Chuuya just hopes he’s good enough to give them the attention and adoration they deserve.

A heavy sigh passes through his lips; slowly but surely, he places his gloved hand in yours. “No biting?” he asks with a smile.

“No biting, I promise! Told them to be on their best behavior today, too.”

It’s only when he nods that you turn the knob and push the door open. You all but pull him in after you, all smiles and laughter and—

Holy shit, that’s a lot of fucking dogs!

All different breeds rush him at once, Kotaro taking the lead and nearly barreling right into Chuuya’s knee. The beagle follows soon after, accompanied by a corgi. (At least he thinks it’s a corgi.) Two little Chihuahuas are yipping and running circles around his ankles. A dachshund paws at the tip of his shoe before latching her teeth around it.

“Hey, hey, come on! Be nice!”

You clap your hands and wave your arms to shoo them away. Just like clockwork the dogs turn their attention on you, a blur of wagging tails and drool and perked-up ears. You scoop up the pair of Chihuahuas, holding one in each arm, and gently nudge the dachshund away from Chuuya with your leg.

Over your shoulder he can see the last two dogs: the grumpy bulldog he met a few days ago (the one who looks like he hates his guts), and a schnauzer whose tail hasn’t stopped wagging since he walked in the room. There’s a slight limp in the schnauzer’s step; it’s favoring its front left paw, but he can’t see any visible wound on the skin. Placing the twin Chihuahuas down, you give the schnauzer a scratch under its bearded chin before pressing a kiss to its head.

“Sit!”

About half the dogs listen, Kotaro not being one of them. He’s still busy sniffing the area around Chuuya, rubbing against his leg like a cat. You snap your fingers over and over, huffing when the dog blatantly ignores you. Finally you stand up and scoop him up in your arms, placing him down in between the dachshund and the beagle.

“You alright?” Your smile is a bit wobbly. Are you just as nervous as he is?

For some reason the thought quells the storm of butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

“I’m fine, doll. Nothin’ I can’t handle,” he adds with a smirk, and you quickly avert your eyes back down to the dogs.

You sink down to sit on the floor, patting the space beside you. Unfortunately Kotaro takes that as his cue to move—even before Chuuya can settle himself down, he’s wrestling a rowdy shiba pup off his lap.

But when one dog goes, the rest of the pack is sure to follow. And suddenly the two of you are swamped in furry bodies and swishing tails and scrabbling paws. One puppy on your lap, another in your arms, and one nosing at your pocket in hopes of finding a snack or two.

“This one’s Sora,” you say, holding the corgi up to him. Chuuya can’t even speak, too captivated by the pup’s sweet brown eyes. “He’s a cutie, isn’t he? And he’s—oh, hey! I would never forget about you, Ocha, don’t worry!” You reach over to pat the dachshund right between her ears. “This little girl is Ocha. She can get a bit jealous but she’s an absolute sweetheart! Oh! And these two are Yuki and Yui! They’re…the troublemakers of the pack!”

Are those the Chihuahuas? One of them is chomping on your shoelaces, while the other one is pawing at his pant leg. The corgi in his arms lets out a soft whine; immediately he brings it closer, letting it sniff his hand and lick his face.

“This is Haru,” you continue, motioning to the schnauzer. “She’s the newest one here. She’s not scared of humans though, so you can pet her all you like! Just let her approach you first. Oh, and be mindful of her paw, she’s recovering from a broken leg. Poor thing could barely walk when we found her! But she’s healing up so nicely…aren’t you, pretty girl?”

The dog lets out a whine, but it almost sounds happy. Her ears are pressed against her head and her stubby tail’s wagging a mile a minute.

Reaching around the corgi’s head—is it Sora? Sounds about right—he holds out a hand to the schnauzer. The dog, Haru, gives a cautious sniff, balances herself on her good paw, and takes another step closer. You’re practically bouncing in your seat as Haru wags her tail and lets Chuuya pet her.

“Aww, she likes you!”

And thank fuck for that; there’s nothing more depressing than a dog that doesn’t like you.

Like that one—he gives the bulldog a sideways glance, and the dog huffs and turns his head.

The beagle nearly trips over his own paws trying to reach Chuuya’s face. The tiny Chihuahua chewing on your shoelaces manages to untie them, and you scramble to grab the string from its mouth with a shriek.

Kotaro, Pochi, Sora… Haru, right?

Something nudges his elbow. It’s the little dachshund, staring up at him with big brown eyes, clutching a small stuffed toy in her mouth. She nudges him again, giving a whine and shaking her whole backside in the air.

“What is it, huh?” Fuck, what’s that one’s name again? “You wanna play, is that it?”

The dog yips and bats him with her paw. But when he grabs at the toy, she gives a hard tug and nearly rips the damn thing right out of his grasp.

“I can’t throw it if you don’t give it to me!”

She doesn’t give up, and neither does he. You laugh at the awkward tug of war between the two, all the while Sora is curled up in Chuuya’s other arm. One of the Chihuahuas crawls into his lap, throwing off his balance just enough for the dachshund to wrench the toy out of his hand.

“Hey, wait—”

It’s a three-way assault: Kotaro plants his paws right on his shoulders, Sora leans up to lick his face, and the dachshund—Ocha, that’s it!—practically throws herself right into his lap, all but knocking the poor Chihuahua out of the way. The poor pup tumbles to the floor, but you’re quick to scoop him up before he can whine.

“Sorry, Yuki,” you manage through your laughter, “Ocha didn’t mean it, I promise. …And sorry, Chuuya! Usually they’re not this rowdy!”

But he finds himself laughing along with you—of course, you apologize to the dog first—even when Kotaro’s weight knocks him over onto the floor. He’s on his back know, knees bent with the beagle ducking beneath them, and the tiny corgi curled up on his chest. Kotaro’s wet nose is pressed against his cheek, Ocha’s paw nudging his shoulder, and oh shit, now the schnauzer’s in on the fun—

“Come on, guys, let him breathe for a bit!” Your voice reaches him through the mess of fur and paws; he sees your hand snake around the dachshund’s body to pull her away. “No doggy pile today!”

Not that he has a problem with that. If this is what you have to deal with every day, living with all these dogs doesn’t seem like such a bad thing.

“Get over here, you little—”

He rolls over, propping himself on his hands and knees, still supporting the corgi against his chest. Kotaro barks and shakes his bottom in the air; the silly look on his face just screams “play with me, damn it!”

Pochi plants his paws onto his shoulders, while Ocha ambushes him from the front. Despite favoring her paw, Haru is quick to chime in with a yip and plants a sweet kiss right on Chuuya’s cheek.

The smug look on Kotaro’s face says it all: You’re surrounded. Give up already, feeble human!

“Alright, alright, that’s enough!”

You’re on your feet now, shooing the dogs away, cringing at the rumpled fabric of Chuuya’s pristine jacket and vest. The flecks of dog hair sprinkled along his dress pants. Not to mention the trails of drool and doggy slobber on his face—

“Come on, be nice.” You slide Pochi out of the way and gently pick up Haru in your arms. Chuuya catches the bulldog glaring at him from across the room; the little shit hasn’t even moved in the last ten minutes or so. “Give him some space, Kotaro!”

Chuuya manages to lift himself to his knees. The little corgi in his arms lifts his head and kisses his chin, his stubby little tail thumping against his hand. A laugh bubbles up in his throat.

“Lovable little shit, ain’t he?”

“Yeah, Sora’s a cuddle bug when he wants to be!” Once the dogs give you some space, you hold out a hand to help him up. “He’s also a sleepy little guy. Gets random bursts of energy but he’s always the first to fall asleep.”

His gloved hand slides against your own, and you pull him to his feet with a grunt. Immediately Haru and Ocha start whining and pawing at his pant leg. Batting their eyes at Sora, all snuggled up against the man’s chest.

“Are they usually just clingy, or is it just me?” he asks with a smile, and you giggle behind your hands.

“Must be you! They’re friendly, but never that friendly to people they’ve just met… They must really like you a lot.”

(Maybe it’s his roguish charm and handsome features. If so, you can’t really blame them.)

“Anyway, looks like they’ve settled down a bit.” He glances at the two pups nestled in your arms; the twin Chihuahuas are already fast asleep, snoring softly with their heads against your chest. “Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the shop.”

The “rest of the shop” isn’t really part of the shop at all; Chuuya learns quickly that it’s just the half-finished room where the dogs live, with the stairs leading up to your apartment just off to the side. He stops himself before he can wonder what’s up there, though.

Not the kind of thoughts he should be having about someone he’s only just yet. And about a lady, no less.

And now the dogs are safe and sound, sprawled out in their individual beds and tucked away for the night. The Chihuahuas sleep in a tiny bed between a mess of blankets, with a dozing Pochi and Ocha on either side of them. Sora is curled up into Haru’s side; when his paw twitches gently, Chuuya thinks he can feel his chest get all warm and fuzzy.

So fucking adorable, aren’t they?

The only ones still awake are Kotaro (who’s made his home at his feet, for some unknown reason), and Shiro, who’s planted his ass firmly on your shoes. Still glaring at him with his bottom teeth jutting out, only wagging his tail when you reach down to pet him.

The two of you are leaning against the counter, side by side, holding a pair of mugs in your hands. Might be too late in the night for it, but holy shit do you make a great cup of coffee.

“I’m glad you think so,” you chuckle, careful to keep your voice low. Don’t wanna wake the babies, right? “I don’t really like it, I kinda have to drink it for these little guys, though. Keeps me going the entire day!”

He looks at you then, really looks at you as you take another sip of your drink. Your frazzled hair, the bags under your eyes, the slight heave in your chest—and the familiar warm glow in your eyes as they sweep over the eight resting dogs.

Running a shop, catering to customers, taking care of eight individual dogs, all with different personalities and needs of their own… No wonder you look so drained. You look like you could sleep for a week straight, and then some with that look in your eye.

He clears his throat and averts his gaze before you can catch him. “You said she’s the newest one, right?” He motions to Haru with a hand, snickering as she snuggles deeper into her little makeshift bed. “How long have you had her?”

“Only a couple weeks.” You place your mug down and sweep a hand through your hair. “We found her wandering around the streets one night—well, Kotaro found her, really. Poor girl was digging through the trash and limping so badly! We took her to the vet right away, fixed up her leg so she could walk again. She had a collar but when we tried calling the owners there was no answer.”

Your hands suddenly curl around the edge of the counter. Nails biting into the surface, teeth clenched and eyes wild with fire. Chuuya stops himself from reaching out to you, instead tightening his grip on his mug and taking another sip.

“They wouldn’t answer our calls, and when the vet stopped by their place he realized they’d moved… Didn’t even have the sense to bring her to a shelter first. Just up and left her, like she didn’t even matter.”

Such a sweet dog, so kind and gentle, with her favored paw resting so nicely on the blankets… Little puffs of air escaping through her nose, brushing against the corgi’s fluffy head.

And suddenly he wants to shatter the mug in his hand. The thought of leaving a mess on your floor is enough to keep him at bay, but the white-hot fury is still blazing through his veins.

How could someone treat such an innocent animal like that?

He wouldn’t have guessed it, with how friendly she had been with him earlier. Eager to play and get to know him, licking at his face and wagging her cute little tail. And extremely loyal from what he’s seen so far, with the way she looks at you and responds to your voice. What kind of dumbass would let go of such a perfect companion?

“…Are they all street dogs?” His voice is strained, but his eyes are gentle when they meet your own. “Abandoned, I mean?”

“No, not all of them. This one,” you lean down to rub Shiro’s chest, “I knew his old owner. He was moving away and he couldn’t take Shiro with him. He used to work at the shop, that’s why he asked me. Sometimes I think he still misses him.”

That explains why the dog’s such a hard-ass. But he can’t find it in himself to blame him. Chuuya knows a thing or two about losing people he cares about.

“Pochi and Sora were hanging around the shop before I took them in. At first I thought they were cats, but then I heard barking one night and knew I had to bring them in.” That familiar smile is back on your face as you gush about your puppies. “Ocha? I found her while coming home from a friend’s house, in a thunderstorm of all things! Now she doesn’t like storms, but show me a dog that does!”

You slide your mug further away before lifting yourself onto the edge. Only when you pat the space beside you does Chuuya do the same, careful not to spill what little coffee he has left in his own mug.

“The twins, Yuki and Yui,” you point to the tiny Chihuahuas in the center, “…I don’t know where they came from, honestly. I just opened the door one day and they were there. Right on the doorstep, practically newborn, no note or anything. I don’t even know what happened to their mother.”

Shiro yawns and settles down at the base of the counter, his legs sprawled out in front of him. Meanwhile Kotaro turns his attention to Chuuya, whining until the man caves in and scratches behind his ear.

“What about this one?”

“Oh, Kotaro? Former shelter dog, the last one to be adopted before they closed down! No one else wanted to deal with his little troublesome ass, so I volunteered.”

And the smug little shit looks so proud of himself, too. Tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, tail swishing from side to side, stirring up the mess of dog hair already on the floor.

A comfortable silence settles over the two of you. The dogs are sleeping, Kotaro’s relishing in all the extra attention, and for once, the bulldog Shiro isn’t even growling at him. Eventually he finishes off his coffee, and you’re quick to take it to rinse it in the sink with your own.

“Hey, Chuuya? Can I ask you something real quick?”

He glances up from Kotaro for a split second. It’s easier to pet him from the ground rather than the counter, so he hops off and kneels down to the dog’s level. His gloves are gonna be covered in dog fur once he’s done.

“What is it?”

Another bout of silence. Your back is turned to him, still hunched over the sink, despite the mugs already drying in the rack next to it. Kotaro paws at his knee, silently begging for another round of pats.

“…You’re part of the Port Mafia, aren’t you?”

Every nerve in his body screams at him to run. No, to fight. Fight and fucking win, just as he’s always had to do. Eliminate the threat. Prove your strength.

It’s like a switch goes off in his brain. But he’s not the only one; Shiro’s head lifts off the ground at lightning speed, his lip curled to show more than just that row of bottom teeth. Kotaro stiffens as soon as Chuuya’s hand retreats, his huge eyes boring right through him.

You’re still glued to your spot at the sink, not even daring to move an inch.

The message is clear from the dogs. Touch her and you die.

He swallows the mess of cobwebs in his throat as he slowly rises to his feet. Kotaro and Shiro keep their eyes trained on him; out of the corner of his eye, he can see Pochi and Ocha stirring awake, too.

Insanely loyal dogs, aren’t they?

“…It’s alright if you are,” you spit out, still staring at the sink in front of you. “I promise I won’t tell anyone! It’s just… I’ve, ah, been wondering about it…for a few days now, and I just thought…”

The sigh he lets out sends a shiver down your spine. He’s careful as he makes his way towards you, and for some reason, Shiro lets him without taking a chunk out of his leg.

“…How’d you find out?”

He’s trying not to sound intimidating. He’s not angry, far from it actually. He knows you and your little pack of pups is no real threat to the mafia. (Although, the image of you storming HQ with a band of street dogs is strangely entertaining to him.) Sooner or later, you would have questions of your own about him. He just didn’t think it would be this soon.

But that horrible feeling from earlier is fluttering around in his chest. The same one that makes his palms slick with sweat inside his gloves, the one that sends his heart smashing against his ribcage.

Is he ashamed? Absolutely not; the mafia has always been a part of him, and it always will be until the day he dies.

Maybe the thought of you running away, too scared of what he is—and taking your little pack with you—is sending him in such a frenzy.

“I’ve…had my suspicions,” you start quietly. Slowly you turn around, keeping your back against the sink. Chuuya stands a few feet away from you, forcing his hands back into his pockets. “For a couple days, now. Maybe even more… I just wanted to be sure before I started suspecting anything…”

Dangerous? He fills in the blank with a swallow.

“…’M not gonna hurt you, ya know.”

“I know! I know… Believe it or not, I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with the mafia. This isn’t exactly a nice area of Yokohama to begin with.”

That raises the hair on the back of his neck. Who did you come across? Surely someone like Akutagawa or Tachihara couldn’t be bothered with a simple pet shop owner. A simple grunt then, perhaps? He can’t imagine why they would make themselves known to an innocent civilian like you.

Did they threaten you? Were you caught in the crossfire? Thrown in the middle of a turf war? Every possibility sends another wave of heat throughout his body.

“Honestly, it wasn’t that hard to figure out.” There’s an awkward chuckle on your end. “I only ever see you at night. You’re rich as hell, I can tell by the way you carry yourself. Only one kind of job around here could get you that kind of outfit, and all those fancy wines you like to talk about. Oh, and you kinda dress like a stereotypical mafioso, too… Not that it’s a bad thing!” you add quickly, holding up your hands. “I like it! Makes you look…good, I guess? No, not just good… Maybe handsome? Ah, I-I mean—”

You stumble over your words, burying your face in your hands when none of them come out right. That’s when Kotaro trots over to you, circling your feet before taking a seat right in front of you. Shiro stays right in his spot, eyes glued on Chuuya…but at least he’s not growling at him anymore.

Chuuya blinks. And then blinks again.

…You think he’s handsome?

He clears his throat—no time to get all distracted over a few simple words from a pretty girl. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, doll. I promise, the Port Mafia wants nothing to do with your little…pack of dogs.”

But he does.

As horrible as it sounds, he wants everything to do with you and your little family of puppies.

“It’s okay.” You wrap your arms around your midsection, finally meeting his eyes with a shaky smile. “It’s just…kind of a lot to take in… Sorry…”

No, he gets it. He could barely believe it himself, after joining the mafia years ago.

“…You ain’t scared?” he asks, despite his gut telling him to shut the fuck up already.

But you shake your head, and suddenly he finds himself frowning.

“A bit too trusting, don’t ya think?”

“Maybe.” Your smile becomes a bit stronger now. “But the dogs seem to like you, so that’s enough for me.”

His jaw nearly drops to the floor; he can feel the coffee from earlier swirling around in his stomach.

Are you fucking serious?

“I know it sounds silly, but it’s true!” You must’ve seen the look on his face; you’re starting to look a bit sheepish yourself, but you continue nonetheless. “Dogs have a great sense for this kind of thing. They can tell when a person has good or bad intentions. Pick the rotten apples from the rest of the bunch, you know? And they’re all pretty easy-going around you. So if they’re not scared of you, then I’m not either.”

Well sure, it would make sense if you were a fucking child. But placing all your trust in a bunch of dogs, no matter how loyal and protective it may be… It doesn’t sit right with him.

“You can’t be serious.”

“But I am.”

“What if I hurt you?” Even saying the words out loud make him feel sick. “You really think they would’ve warned you?”

“Yeah, they started growling at you right away, didn’t they?”

“What if it was someone else? Someone other than me?”

“I trust them. I protect them, they protect me.”

“You can’t always be sure of that, doll.”

He’s stepping closer to you, and for whatever reason Kotaro and Shiro allow him to. Until he’s face to face with you, so close you can count the row of freckles splashed across his nose.

But you’re still smiling. In fact, you look more comfortable right now in front of him than you have all night. Almost like you’ve totally forgotten about the whole Port Mafia thing.

“It all comes down to intentions. Believe it or not, they’ve saved my ass a few times before. Especially Shiro; more than once he’s kept a shady person away from me, or pulled me away from a dangerous situation. It sounds weird, but I trust them with my life. Just as they trust me with theirs.”

Words fail him in that moment; he opens his mouth, and they die right there on his tongue. On one hand, what you’re saying does make sense, but it also doesn’t, and he’s not sure which one to believe.

He knew you were close to your dogs. Treated them just as you would your own children. He just didn’t realize you put such a great amount of trust in their hands—well, paws.

Despite their smaller size and friendly natures, they did jump to your defense when they suspected you might be in danger. Shiro and Kotaro standing between you two, a protective barrier of claws and teeth, with Ocha and Pochi standing on guard.

A dog’s love for his human knows no bounds.

“Trust me, if they sensed you had any bad intentions, or wanted to hurt me in any way, they wouldn’t have let you come into the shop like you did. Kotaro wouldn’t have warmed up to you right away. Believe me when I say this, Chuuya, the pups love you.”

He grits his teeth, his gaze falling to the floor between you. “…Not the bulldog.”

Your laugh is a song to his ears, and when you reach for his gloved hand, he thinks his heart might burst right there in his chest.

“Don’t worry about Shiro. He’s stingy with everyone at first! To be honest, if he really didn’t like you, he would’ve tried to bite you the first time he saw you! But as for the rest of them? I’ve never seen them warm up to a stranger like that before. Especially Kotaro—the way he acted around you that first night… It kinda made me jealous!”

You shake your head and take his other hand in yours. His face grows warm beneath your gaze, his heartbeat echoing in his ears as you inch your face closer to his.

“If my dogs trust you, then that tells me you must be a good man.”

And suddenly, Chuuya wants nothing more than to sweep you into his arms and press a thousand kisses to your lips.

“Your secret’s safe with me. If you want to come back, you’re more than welcome to! And if you want, we can just keep it between us. No outside drama, no mentions of work—just you and me and all these dogs…if that sounds good with you.”

Chuuya doesn’t think he can smile any wider. There’s another strange feeling in his chest, so much more pleasant than the one from earlier. No more shaking hands or butterflies in his stomach; only a sweet, warm feeling that pools deep in his chest.

It reminds him of your smile, of your warmth and affection for the little family you’ve made for yourself, as he tugs you in closer with Kotaro yipping happily at your heels.

“Sounds perfect to me, doll.”

[fayes-fics]

It Had To Be You: Chapter 6 - Just Somebody That I Used to Know

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Anthony Bridgerton x Kate Sharma, Modern AU

Summary: Exes cause some unexpected moments for both you and Benedict...

artwork credit @colettebronte

Warnings: not much... swearing, propositioning for sex.

Word Count: 4.0k (longest chapter so far!)

Authors Note: Unbetaed. A multi-chapter modern rom-com retelling of When Harry Met Sally. In this chapter, Benedict runs into his ex-wife unexpectedly, and it throws him for a loop. Plus, Tom's sudden change in status causes a crisis of confidence for reader.

3 months later (15 months ago)

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you elbow him in the ribs, maybe uncharitably, but he’s being mildly irritating. ”Let’s just stick to practical stuff,” you argue, seizing his laptop and bringing it in front of you to take over.

“Come on, who doesn’t need an 18th-century replica cannon?” Benedict argues jovially, hooking his chin onto your shoulder and fluttering his eyelids in an attempt to get his way.

“I would argue your brother and my best friend,” you state pointedly, looking at him askance with a raised eyebrow, even as you secretly enjoy his silliness.

“Hmm, maybe you’re right,” he hums, sitting back up straight, “they’d probably just find a way to actually weaponise it during one of their fights.”

It’s three months later, and, just as she predicted on the first night they met, Kate and Anthony are engaged. Returning from a trip to Lake Cuomo two weeks ago, she had an enormous rock on her left hand and a grin like a Cheshire Cat, not just because of the jewellery. She claimed she orgasmed for thirty minutes straight even before she got the ring. You’re still in a low-key disagreement with her about whether that’s even possible.

Today is an uncharacteristically sweltering June day, so you and Benedict are taking refuge in the cool air-conditioning at Battersea Power Station, down the road from the gallery he’s exhibiting in. You sit on a sofa with iced coffees trying to cobble together a gift registry—a task Kate and Anthony have lumbered you both with as matron of honour and best man.

“Who has their wedding registry at Harrods and Fortnum and Mason anyway?” you grouse.

“Family tradition,” he states airily. Sometimes you forget just how rich the Bridgertons are.

“You’re far too fucking posh,” you roll your eyes. “What’s wrong with John Lewis, like normal people?”

“Tell you what,” one of Benedict’s arms encircles your waist and lightly tickles, causing you to squirm, a distraction tactic to wrestle back control of his laptop with his other hand, “if we get married, the registry can be at John Lewis, and you can explain to my tearful mother why you want to break Bridgerton tradition.” 

You know it’s an offhand, meaningless comment said in jest, but the words ‘we get married’ seem to echo around your head, even as he cackles triumphantly to himself and clicks ‘add to registry’ on the ridiculous cannon. As revenge, you swipe his brownie and take a big bite which he attempts to snatch back. You are giggling and tussling, crumbs flying, when a sophisticated French voice cuts into your childish playfulness.

“Benoit!? Je pensais que c'était toi!”

Your giggles die out as you untangle from Benedict to observe a beautiful petite brunette woman with elfin features. She clings to another striking woman who can barely conceal her look of disdain.

You feel Benedict freeze up, his body suddenly tense. Defensive.

“Tessa,” he nods after what feels like an age of awkward silence.

Oh god. It’s her. This is his ex-wife. For some reason, here in London.

“It’s good to see you,” she switches to lightly accented English, her arm gripping the other ladies tighter.

“Likewise,” he says curtly, holding himself stiffly in a way that suggests anything but.

Tessa turns her doe-eyes to you, pointedly awaiting an introduction. It takes him a moment to realise it, and your chest suddenly aches in sympathy for the little-boy-lost expression you can see through the cracked veneer of civility.

“Oh right… Thérèse Durand, Tessa, meet y/n y/l/n,” he gestures flatly. “Y/n, this is Tessa… and Clarissa,” he sneers the other woman’s name, and instantly you know who she is—the one Tessa left him for.

You politely nod and make an awkward small wave gesture, unsure what else to do. Benedict appears to be in some form of shell shock; gently, you squeeze his arm until he blinks as if coming back online.

“Well… I can see you are busy,” Tessa nods at the laptop, “I will not delay you plus,” switching back to French for the last word, exchanging loaded looks with Clarissa.

With another awkward nod, they turn their heels and walk away.

‘She looked weird, didn’t she?’ he stutters as they retreat.

“I don’t know her, Ben,” you remind softly, “I just met her.” Mainly you are concerned by how utterly disconcerted he is by merely bumping into her.

“Trust me, she looked weird,” he affirms, still watching the space they occupied even as they turn a corner and disappear.

You just rub his arm in what you hope is a soothing pattern, unsure what to say.

“Ughhh. A continent of 745 million people… I was just bound to run into my ex-wife at some point, right?” his sarcastic humour flaring as he puts his head in his hands.

“You even tried to put a body of water between you,” you concur, attempting levity. “Seems bloody unlikely to happen… but then I’d say so is a replica cannon for a wedding present, but you insist on it,” you joke softly, bumping his shoulder lightly. 

When he tilts his head up and cracks a tiny smile, you breathe a silent sigh of relief.

—

“Although marrying you may suggest otherwise, I have not had a complete taste bypass,” Kate barbs at Anthony as they stand around a coffee table the next day.

They are moving in together pre-wedding, and they definitely have strong opinions about each other’s possessions. You and Benedict have arrived to assist them in unpacking their fancy Kensington mews, but your primary role may well be as referee.

Kate turns to you. “Y/n, please, do you like this thing?”

You purse your lips, not wanting to offend.

“Be honest,” Anthony adds, hands on his hips, looking at your expectantly.

Sheepishly, you shake your head.

“What's wrong with it?” Anthony asks.

“Honey,” Kate loops her arms around his neck, “it’s so awful, I can’t even begin to tell you what’s wrong with it.”

Anthony rolls his eyes, but you can tell he secretly enjoys how she nuzzles his neck, and he pulls her into his arms. “Brother, what do you think?”

Benedict is staring out of the window; he doesn't even turn around, just mumbles. “It’s fine.”

You glance over your shoulder at him, concerned about his moroseness but say nothing.

“Look, I think it will be fine in your home office,” Kate offers conciliatory. “It will go perfectly with that ugly drinks hutch thing,” she suggests, wanting to sound helpful.

“Wait, wait….,” Anthony withdraws from their embrace. “You don't like my home bar??” he throws his hands up in a what-the-hell gesture. 

Kate goes to answer but is interrupted by Benedict turning around to speak. “You know, we started like this—little disagreements about things. We thought it was so cute. Well, want my advice? Put your initials on your shit now, so you know whose is whose before it all gets jumbled together.”

“Ben …” you murmur a warning, seeing his irritation flaring. He ignores you.

“Cos someday, believe me, you will go twenty rounds on who gets this coffee table. This stupid, ugly, the-80s-called-and-they-want-their-glass-monstrosity-back will cost you five times as much as you paid for it in legal fees from the firm of I-don’t-even-want-this-but-I-want-you-to-have-it-even-less and Sons.” 

“I thought you liked it?” Ant counters, frowning deeply.

“I WAS BEING POLITE!!” Benedict exclaims loudly before storming out.

Kate and Anthony gape at the doorway, shocked at the completely uncharacteristic outburst.

“He… he just bumped into Tessa,” you offer quietly as if to explain, then with a nod, go to seek him out.

“I want you to know something,” you hear Kate say as you leave, pulling Anthony into her arms and placing a kiss on his cheek. “I will always hate that fucking ugly eyesore you claim is furniture.”

You find Ben outside lingering on the pavement, kicking a loose stone into the gutter. Looking to all intents and purposes like he needs a cigarette to calm down.

The minute he sees you, he holds up a hand, an admission of fault. “I know, I know.”

“Ben…. you’re going to have to find a way not to express every feeling you have the moment you have them,” you point out, aiming for delicacy. 

This morning he berated a kid in Costa for getting his tea order wrong, which is unlike him. You know that the only reason can be bumping into Tessa and all the residual anger and hurt about it bubbling to the surface.

“I just bumped into my ex fucking wife. So yeah, excuse me if I try to warn my brother what a shitshow their life could become,” he grumbles, confirming your suspicions. 

“There are times and places for these things… and when they are just moving in together might not have been the time to bring up divorce,” you try to point out gently.

“Oh really? Well, next time you’re giving a lecture on being a fucking droid, R2, let me know, and I’ll be sure to sign up,” he snarks.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!?” you demand, hands on hips indignantly, your own anger flaring at his cutting remark.

“It means nothing bothers you. I never see you get upset about Tom. I never see you get upset about anything at all; in fact,” he derides. “Don’t you care your longest relationship ended? Don't you experience any sense of loss?!”

“I feel things; I just choose to deal with my break up privately, like a grown-up,” you volley back, aiming to wound as much as he did.

“Please,” he rolls his eyes witheringly. “Sleeping with a bunch of idiots doesn't mean you have dealt with your breakup; it just means you’re avoiding it.”

“Better than not fucking anyone, you coward,” you shoot back, hurt he would bring up your recent, mildly slutty behaviour.

For a few moments, it's just a nettled staring match; you are not willing to give an inch. 

“Besides, even if we know relationships are more than likely going to fuck up, you don't wish it on your friends or family, right? You want to believe that it will work for them. I mean, I don’t fully get those two as a couple, but fuck they are so happy, Ben,” you gesture at their windows. “I want to believe it will work for them. I really do. And even that it will work for us again one day. That we will find our people.”

You see all the wind fall out of his sails, deflating before your eyes. 

“Fuck, you’re right,” he sighs, “I'm so sorry,” he pulls you into a hug. ”I never want to fight with you,” he avows, his breath warm on your temple.

“I'm sorry too,” you admit into his jaw. “I didn't mean the coward thing,” you mumble, feeling guilty but enjoying the warmth of his embrace.

“No, but you’re right,” he concedes. “I need to get back out there properly. God, Tessa just really threw me for a fucking loop yesterday, and I didn't sleep at all. I’m taking it out on all the wrong people today.” 

His honest confession feels like the Ben you know and, yes, love. You band your arms around him tighter and stay quiet for a few beats, knowing all is forgiven.

Just as you break apart, Anthony bursts through the front door hauling the coffee table with considerable effort.

“Don't say a fucking word,” he grouses.

—

“Could you come over?” you snuffle as the call connects. 

It’s a month after Kate and Anthony moved in together, and you know they are out celebrating tonight, so you don't want to bother her.

“What’s wrong?” Benedict’s cadence changes as he realises you sound off. It appears he’s moving to a quieter spot, the loud background noise of wherever he is fading slightly.

“He’s getting married!” You wail, gesturing wildly so the wine almost slops out of the bottle you are swigging from.

“Who is?” You can hear his frown, even down the phone.

“Tom!” You exclaim over a hiccup as if irritated he can’t read your mind.

“I’ll be right there,” the reassuring promise in his sincere tone makes you clasp your chest. Good old handsome, sweet, reliable Ben. What a great friend. 

Half an hour later, you answer the door with a tissue in hand, uncaring that you likely look a state—your hair half up in a messy bun and swamped by an oversized hoodie, concealing your pyjama shorts and vest. 

You collapse into Benedict’s arms when he shoots you a sympathetic look.

“Thank you. For coming. Why are you so smartly dressed?” you hiccup into his fancy shirt.

“I was uhh on a date,” he admits reticently as you break apart.

“You left a date!?”

“Yep. I just said my best friend is having a crisis, and I had to go. It’s the truth,” he shrugs.

“Aw, I’m your best friend,” you pout with quivering eyes, which makes him laugh.

“You look like that silly emoji. And, of course, you are,” he says as if it's the most obvious thing. “I mean, I didn't tell her that my best friend is a woman—probably not a first date revelation,” he points out, slinging an arm around your shoulders and manoeuvring you towards your sofa.

“Oh god, first date?! Shit, I'm sorry. Go, go back to her!” You attempt to shoo him away, but he pulls you tighter under his arm and rolls his eyes as he surveys the mess that is currently your living room—so very out of character. 

“You really did spiral, didn't you?” he chuckles, picking his way through the scattering of empty crisp packets and Cadbury wrappers to place you back on the sofa.

“She is supposed to be his rebound fling; she's not supposed to be ‘The One’,” you bawl, pointing at your laptop screen, still open to Tom’s wedding invitation.

Benedict takes the laptop and sighs, exiting the email window and smiling to himself as he sees your wallpaper - it's you and him in the novelty photobooth from last year's New Year party, heads together and grinning inanely. He closes the lid and twists to look at you, realising you have indeed not dealt with the heartbreak of your split with Tom at all over the last few months. You were just in denial about it all up until now. Knowing he has to tread carefully, he touches your shoulder.

“You broke it off because you wanted different things, remember?” he soothes. “Do you suddenly want kids?”

“No,” you pull a disgusted face.

“Then this is for the best,” he posits, brushing the hair from your cheek caught in your tear tracts.

“I’m difficult,” you lament, wallowing in a touch of maudlin self-pity now you have an audience.

“Challenging,” he amends with a crooked smile.

“I’m too closed-off and particular,” you throw out.

“You know what you want and refuse to compromise,” he argues, rubbing a thumb over your cheek in a comforting motion.

You look up from your self-indulgent tears and see his handsome face defending your worst qualities as positives, and you have never wanted another human more in your life. Perhaps the bottle of wine isn't helping, but right now, all you want - emotionally, physically, sexually - is the man before you.

“Fuck me, Benedict,” you murmur.

He barks a laugh. “Yeah, you've got yourself in a pickle,” he opines, bemused. And you wonder if he's being deliberately obtuse.

“No…” you clarify, placing your hand over the one curled around your face. “Fuck me. Please,” you stare into his eyes intently, making your request clear.

A thousand reactions ripple across his face, mostly surprise and confusion, but you also see how his pupils dilate, making your heart race. 

“I don't think that’s a good idea,” he stumbles as his gaze flits to your mouth.

“That's not a no,” you point out, boldly swinging into his lap, straddling him, as you see him wrestling with so many thoughts.

“We are best friends,” he whispers, sounding almost afraid.

“And as my best friend, I am asking you to take me to bed and fuck me,” you state plainly, sliding your thighs wider until your core rocks over the seam of his jeans, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck.

“You've had too much to drink.” He sounds like he's trying to clutch at straws, but you don't miss how his hand is gripping your hip now, fingers warm through the cotton of your pyjama shorts.

“Enough to be emboldened, not enough to be unaware of what I'm doing,” you supply, attempting to alleviate any fear he may have of taking advantage. “You would simply be helping a friend in need, please.”

With your cards now all on the table, you see he is frozen, the conflict writ large on his face and part of your heart cracks. Oh god, maybe he doesn't want this, and he has no idea how to let an upset, vulnerable friend down gently.

“Fuck…” you mutter and drop your forehead onto his shoulder. “I never stopped to consider you may not want to fuck me anymore. I’m such an idiot. That was 11 years ago….”

The hand on your hip flexes.

“That's not the problem,” he growls, and your head shoots up to see the vein in his temple pulsing. 

“Then what is?” you whisper, your limbic system alive with the idea he finds you attractive.

“You have just found out your ex is getting married, you drank a bottle of wine, and now you are propositioning me. I’m worried a large part of you will hate me tomorrow if I say yes,” he confesses, sounding almost vulnerable. “I’d prefer to keep you as a friend than fuck you and have you resent me for it.”

“But you want to?” you whisper, craving the affirmation to your fragile ego.

“Like you wouldn't believe,” he barely murmurs it. “But please get off me.”

You see the sincerity in his eyes and back down, feeling so many things in your tipsy heart—guilt you backed him into a corner, sad he turned you down, happy he respects you enough to do so. 

Believing it is the grown-up thing to release him from this messed-up evening, you climb out of his lap and head towards your front door. The shame and embarrassment are starting to creep in; your need to hide and deny what you did ramping up.

“You are a better friend than me,” you acknowledge as he trails behind you. “And I apologise. Thank you. I guess I just needed confirmation that I'm desirable to someone.” you mumble, looking at the floor.

“Didn't you just have a date last week?” he points out as you both hover in the hallway.

“Yeah, but that's different….” 

“How?”

“It's not someone who truly knows me,” you sigh, finally looking up at him again. His eyes are soft with understanding. He's so beautiful you almost want to cry.

“I need you to know something…” his voice even, but there's something awkward in the way he stares at the wall over your shoulder as he speaks, “....you are a beautiful, sexy woman. Anyone would be lucky to have you. I just….” He trails off, struggling for the right words.

“I understand,” you nod conciliatory. “I’m going to be mortified when I sober up,” you admit sheepishly, and you see his shoulders slump. 

“I can’t leave you, not like this. I’d be a bad friend.” He takes a deep breath and steps aside into your kitchen. “Come on,” he coaxes when you just stand there staring at him. “Let’s get you a cup of tea and sobered up.”

You then watch as he potters around your kitchen making you toast and tea at 9 pm on a rainy Thursday evening. It’s such a wonderful, giving thing to do that you can only stand there and watch, mildly dumbstruck. It’s only when the inviting aroma hits your nose that you realise you haven’t even eaten anything except crisps and chocolate since yesterday. 

He leads you to the sofa and then hands you a steaming hot mug of tea just how you like it and a plate with two perfectly toasted slices of bread slathered in butter. You tackle them greedily, murmuring your thank yous as he takes a seat in your armchair, a respectable distance, and queues up something brainless for you to enjoy.

You don’t talk as the next two hours unfold, him giving you space but also his presence so you don’t spiral into thoughts of how your rash moment may have ruined your friendship. Wordlessly telling you he is here as a friend and everything will be okay, despite the awkwardness. Bringing you another round of tea and toast, making himself some this time too. Even handing you paracetamol from your bathroom cabinet to pre-empt the muzzy head you can feel approaching. It's like he can intuit your needs before you can, making your heart clench even harder.

“I’m mostly sober now,” you confess quietly as an episode of the show you’re watching ends. “And I’ll be okay, honestly. Thank you for dropping your plans and coming to check on me. And I’m truly sorry for what I did. Propositioning you. I hope you can forgive me.” 

“Let's consider it even,” he smiles mildly. “For the car ride from St Andrews?” he prompts when you look confused.

“Okay,” you giggle, heaving a huge sigh of relief, knowing somehow all is forgiven.

“Now, if you are truly okay, I shall get out of your hair,” he offers, slapping his legs before rocking to his feet.

“I'm okay,” you confirm quietly, a little pang in your chest that is not wanting to be alone but not saying it. Instead, you also stand up and drift again towards your front door to show him out. You want to ask him to stay but know it's a selfish request.

“Thank you, bestie,” you overenunciate and throw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a bear hug.

“You are welcome, bestie,” he chuckles into your hair.

His body is warm and feels wonderful pressed against yours, and you linger, just indulging in the feeling of being held, squeezing your arms a little tighter, burying your face into his neck and huffing his delicious aftershave. You know you are pushing the boundary of what is acceptable for a hug between friends, but he's not fighting you off.

You pull back a little to look into his eyes. “Thank you, Ben, for everything,” more sincere now, sotto voce. 

“You’ll be okay,” he assures, smoothing down your hair with tender strokes. “Dorset was just a blip on your radar. There is someone much better out there for you. Don't let him be the reason you doubt yourself. He is not worth your tears.”

It's a beautiful, supportive speech, and on instinct, you push up to give him a quick peck on the lips as a thank you. Just like at New Year's, his lips are warm and plush beneath yours as you press into them. Except this time, he freezes, and instantly, you realise your mistake.

“Shit, sorry,” you murmur as you fall back to your flat feet, realising that was a foolish move after what transpired earlier. 

Something feels charged, and you sense a change in him, in his breathing.

“Again.” It's almost a snarl, and you worry you have annoyed him.

“Yes, Im sorry again,” you confirm meekly.

“No,” his eyes pop open, blazing, and his voice has taken on a different tone, almost foreign. “Again.” You merely frown until he pitches forward, his breath harsh on your lips. “Kiss me again.”

“But….” you begin to protest, even as you do as he asks, heart in your throat. Your lips meet, and he kisses you back this time—ferociously.

And a firework explodes in your chest. 

It's as if you have never been kissed before, your skin tingling all over with instant exhilaration. As your lips slide together in an almost desperate dance, his hands grab your face, tilting your head to the left. Then he is opening his mouth….

Oh fucking hell.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989

[ironstrange1991]

Too Tired

+18 smut

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Stephen is tired from a mission and after two rounds with you, you still want one more. Will he be able to met with your expectations?

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Its a smut, but a soft and romantic one. P in V, Oral sex with female and male receiving, mastrubation with female and male receiving, lots of dirty talk.

A/N: Guys I have been thru a lot in my personal life so thats the reason why I have disappeared but I love be in here, I love this comunity and I love to write for Stephen, right now its the only thing that is keeping me alive LITERALLY. So belive me when I say I wrote this from rock bottom and took this words from the bottom of my heart. I hope you enjoy it.

Stephen rolled onto his side of the bed, body sweaty, breathing heavily after two rounds with you, the second being a particularly long one. He was spent.

You were apart for two weeks and when he got home that morning you simply attacked him demanding to be sated of all the love and desire you felt for him.

Stephen had a relatively high sex drive, but sometimes he was surprised by you. Positively of course. That morning he made you come three times, once on his face, twice on his cock. He came hard twice himself, the first time in your mouth and the second inside you and yet as he threw himself back on the pillows trying to regulate his breathing you crawled into his chest placing kisses on his neck, moving up to his face, his cheek, rubbing your face against his goatee and  squeezed your thighs together like a cat in heat and he knew it was going to be a long day and he wasn't complaining, he loved that about you but to be quite honest he didn't know if he could meet your demands and expectations.

Stephen was tired. The mission had been a long one and although he came back in one piece this time with no bruises or broken bones, he could feel the weariness getting to him and as much as he wanted to immediately go for a third round he doubted he could get an erection that fast.

You cupped his face pulling him to your lips and stuck your tongue in his mouth kissing him so hot it brought a moan from the back of his throat. "Oh sweetheart..." He caressed your face watching as you bit your bottom lip "I love it when you kiss me like that"

You grinned and kissed him again, this time giving his bottom lip a little nip. You took his hand and brought it down between your legs. He sighed feeling how wet you were again when minutes before he had cleaned you up. "You're insatiable, sweetheart, look at that, all wet for me again" You lay back on the mattress and spread your legs wider for him "I've been without you for two weeks Stephen, do you have any idea how hard that was? I I had to resort to other methods, but it's not the same as having the Master of the Mystic Arts fucking me."

Stephen chuckled, he propped himself up on his elbow as he dipped his middle finger deeper inside you, slowly fucking you with rhythmic strokes. You moaned louder. "Is that why you called me in the middle of the night? Because your toys alone weren’t enough to make you come?"

He added a second finger to draw a passionate sigh from your lips. You shook your head, your eyes were closed "I needed to hear your voice" You confessed.

"Aham, just my voice or all the dirty things I whispered to you on the phone?"

"Both... Ah Stephen I want you to make me come again"

Stephen kissed you. Not a simple kiss, but that kiss where his tongue wandered to each corner of your mouth, sucking your tongue hard and biting your lips in the process. You could have sworn that only that kiss was capable of making you come.

You groaned loudly, your hand on top of Stephen's hand showing him exactly what you wanted. He managed to put his thumb on your clit and started circling it slowly. "Like that?" He asked in your ear in that wonderful whispered voice. You could only nod your head in approval, your mouth went agape.

"Oh I know sweetheart. I know exactly how you like it. You need to have just the right amount of pressure here, don't you?"

You shook your head vehemently.

"I know. Just let go then. I know you so well, my love." He put a little more pressure on his thumb as he moved both fingers in an intense rhythm and he could feel your walls tightening around his fingers. Oh he loved that feeling. He loved it much more when it was in his cock, but it felt powering. Knowing he was responsible for leaving you in that state made him feel more powerful than any spell.

"Oh Stephen, you're going to make me come..."

Stephen hummed in your ear and nibbled your earlobe reveling in the way your skin prickled "Come on, sweetheart, come hard for me, show me how much you love me"

He didn't have to ask twice. The combination of the intense penetration of his fingers, the friction of his thumb on your clit and his voice whispered in your ear was explosive. You came. Hard.

Your moan was almost a whimper, but Stephen insisted on swallowing it with another breathtaking kiss.

He took his fingers out of you and brought them to his lips, sucking them provocatively "You taste so good"

You smiled charmingly at him opening your arms and he throws himself into them giving you a crushing hug and biting your neck rubbing his goatee there making you shiver and giggle. He rolled to the side, but kept you firm in his arms, your head on his chest, your hand caressed his chest and went down to his belly and kept going down, not satisfied you started giving light kisses on his chest that quickly went from Innocent to provocative, your hand grabbed his cock which was only half hard.

"I dont know if I can do it again sweetheart, even though I want it, I am tired."

You hummed undaunted by the challenge ahead and held it tight in your hand stroking it up and down slowly.

He squeezed you in his arms and you turned to kiss him and God, that kiss alone would be more than enough to make his cock hard if he wasn't so tired. Even so, the way you moved and your kiss was enough to bring some life to it, though still not enough.

"Put it in your mouth sweetheart, make me hard for you."

You were moving to put it in your mouth when he pulled you past his head, putting you on all fours and bringing your pussy up to his head giving him a privileged view of your soaked slit. You didn't wait a second to put it in your mouth and he didn't wait to grab your thighs and pull you to his mouth sucking and surprising you with delicious voracity.

Stephen wasn't small even half flaccid, but as he hardened in your mouth he grew and you loved to see that transformation. Stephen had a delicious cock, but more than that, his cock was beautiful. Just like him. Big, thick, with the pink tip and bulging veins that pulsed in your mouth.

Stephen loved to suck you. He could be hard just by smelling and drinking all your fluids, but he also loved the way you rolled on his face without any shame. You had a hungry clit, he loved to take it between his teeth when it was all swollen and red from your arousal, to flick his tongue on it or simply suck on it and feel his entire body quiver in response. Pleasuring you was always the best way to get Stephen hard.

He loved your moans, he loved the way you reveled in your own pleasure and he especially loved knowing that he was responsible for leaving you in that state.

Stephen knew all your weaknesses, he knew for example that you came faster if you had friction on your clit along with the penetration, he also knew very well that getting you face down from behind pinning you against the bed with his body weighting above you as he rubbed the beard on your neck and whispered all kinds of filth in your ear was the most delicious way to make you come and fall head over heels in love with him.

Just like he knew that, like now, you loved being able to wiggle in his face and rub your pussy in his goatee.

But he didn't want you to come yet, your next orgasm would be on his cock which was already rock hard for you again.

"That's right sweetheart, you are awesome, look how hard you left me again. Come here, ride me. I want to feel you bouncing on my cock"

You were more than happy to comply with his request. And a second later you were directing his cock at your entrance completely soaked by your lubrication and Stephen's saliva.

You moaned as you lowered allowing him to go deep inside you, your walls stretching to accommodate him inside you. It didn't matter that he'd fucked you twice already, it was always quite a challenge to contain him inside you.

"Fuck you feel so good, love. Move please, ride me hard" You leaned against his chest and started rocking on his cock, alternating between back and forth and up and down movements. Increasing your pace slowly, the noises of his cock moving in and out of your soaked pussy was always so delicious, it made you extremely horny for him.

Stephen took one of his hands around your waist and grabbed your tit with the other letting you do all the work.

"Oh sweetheart you do it so good, I love it when you fuck me like that"

It wasn't common for Stephen to relinquish control in bed, usually he did all the work being dominant all the time and you loved that about him, but sometimes when he was tired he chose to let you be in control and the result was always extremely pleasurable for both  and you knew he was a lot more tired than he let on.

Even from that and from the way his cock was throbbing violently inside you, you knew he wouldn't last.

"Fuck, if it continues at this rate I'm going to come, sweetheart, I can't hold back, you feel too good"

You were so close to your orgasm that stopping wasn't an option. "I am almost there, Stephen. Hold it" You bit your bottom lip bending forward to get just a little more friction "Slap my ass"

Stephen grinned and complied.  You moaned loudly "Again"

He did it. "Again" He did it again and then it happened. Your entire body shook on top of him, your walls squeezing his cock so hard and pulling him to his too. "Oh thats right sweetheart... oh fuck, fuck..." Stephen spilled inside you and you loved that feeling.

You collapsed on top of him and Stephen wrapped you in his arms putting you on the bed but keeping you in his arms.

"That was... intense" You finally said and then you both giggled.

Stephen kissed your lips lightly and got up going to the bathroom and came back with a cloth. He cleaned you up and then cleaned himself up and then came back to bed holding out his arm for you to lie comfortably next to him. You rested your head on his shoulder and caressed his face lightly watching him. His eyes were red with sleep.

"Poor thing, I took advantage of you a lot, didn't I?"

He smirked, but his eyes were practically closing by themselves "I pretty much enjoyed every second of it"

You smiled cupping his face and pulling it to your lips. You kissed him softly.

"Yeah I know. And you were amazing as always, but I will let you sleep now, Stephen. You deserve it."

He hummed squeezing you in his arms "Thank you sweetheart"

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing ;)

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[byeoltoyuki]

✧ Memories of us ✧ 1st Kiss

↳ Pairing: Jisung x Reader

❧ Genre : romance / smut /fluff / 1st love to strangers to lovers

❧ Summary: Sometimes memories are just that. Memories.

A series of drabbles about you and Jisung, about your love and your heartbreak and a second chance.

❧ A/N: It's finally out! Likes and reblogs are appreciated. Comments are too, I promise I don't bite (most of the time) ♥

Masterlist / next

Maybe staying so late just to finish your project wasn’t the best idea.

No, working on the project with Jisung was definitely a good thing and not only because you almost finished it. And the fact that it was with him was definitely the best part of this project; you got to spend hours with your crush, cracking jokes with him, staring (no so subtly) at him from time to time. No, it was definitely the good part. The bad part? Maybe you should have checked the weather before choosing the right place to work on this project. If you had checked the weather, you would have known that a place closer to your house would have been better. Or maybe you would have brought your umbrella with you. But you did none of that. And maybe it had everything to do with your little crush. 

Rain was pouring outside as you stood with Jisung at the library entrance. You stared helplessly at the puddles. There was no way you could survive this kind of rain; your shoes would be ruined, so would be your bag and probably your clothes too. 

“I don’t have my umbrella.” You whined. Should you call your mom, you wondered for a short moment but quickly disregarded the thought. No, you would rather suffer the rain and the ruin of your shoes than face your mom’s harsh words. 

Jisung outstretched his hand and watched as rain wet his hand. Yes, the two of you were doomed but he didn’t seem as bothered as you. “Oh well. The bus stop isn’t that far. We can run.” 

You stared at him as if he had grown a second head. “Bad idea. It might be close but it’s enough for us to get soaked and sick.” 

Jisung smiled sheepishly in response and fully turned to face you, grabbing your shoulders, he looked too excited for your liking. “Come on, Y/N! It’s just water!” 

Maybe you were a cat in another life and that’s why you hated the idea of running under the rain and getting wet. But one look at Jisung, and your will crumbled. How could one resist such a pretty and bright smile? His smile alone warmed your heart and everything seemed so much brighter. 

“We can’t wait for the rain to stop,” Jisung started giving you very good reasons why you should run. “It can be hours before it calms down and it’s already late. I don’t want to worry my parents.” 

But you knew his parents. They wouldn’t worry too much knowing their son’s antics. But you accepted his excuse because it applied to you. You had to get home if you wanted to avoid another fight that would leave you drained of all energy for the next three working days. 

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “Fine. I hate to admit but you’re right.” 

“I know.” Jisung chuckled, “I’m always right.” 

You rolled your eyes at that and slapped his arm playfully for good measure. Jisung’s laugh only got louder and warmer and your heart flipped in response. God, you didn’t know how longer you can survive. 

Jisung’s hands slowly slid from your shoulders to your side - your heart leapt in your throat at the gesture. Yep, you were going to die and the rain was only half the cause. But then, Jisung grabbed your hand, gave it a gentle, comforting squeeze before slowly pulling you towards your doom. Did you complain? No. Not even when the first cold drops of rain hit your skin. Not even when you shivered from the cold. Because Jisung was holding your hand, tightly, never letting go and it was enough to warm your soul. 

“Not that bad, is it?” He chuckled and glanced over his shoulder to have a look at you. 

His smiles were contagious; you couldn’t stop your lips from stretching into a similar wide smile.  

“I’m not gonna say it.” You warned him. Your own ego stopped you from saying that he was right, it wasn’t so bad. 

Jisung shook his head and tsked feigning offense, nevertheless he squeezed your hand a little stronger and pulled you towards the bus stop. 

By the time you reached the bus stop, the two of you were completely soaked. Hair sticking to your face, your clothes a wet mess and you didn’t dare to look at your bag, hoping that it was only wet from outside and that your things were safe. You looked at Jisung who wasn’t in a better state than you but somehow still managed to look adorable. Life was so unfair. But in the middle of your misery, the two of you couldn’t hold back the fit of giggles. 

“Okay, so maybe it wasn’t my brightest idea.” He finally admitted it. 

It wasn’t but you didn’t care that much anymore. Before you could realize what you were doing, your hand reached for his face. Gently you brushed few strands of hair that were sticking to his face and hiding his eyes. Were you mesmerized? Absolutely. You didn’t think your crush on him could get any bigger, but now that you were standing so close to him, feeling his warmth, you weren’t so sure anymore. 

The moment you tried to pull away your hand, he grabbed your wrist and held it while his eyes kept darting back and forth between your eyes and lips. At this point, your heart was roaring, ready to explode. Whatever he was planning, it made your head dizzy, unable to focus on anything else. You wanted to kiss him. So badly. One small step and you could taste him. Just one. What did you have to lose anyway? If you got it all wrong, you could blame the rain and the cold that had clouded your brain. 

Before you could change your mind, you took the final step and pressed your lips against his. It was quick and hesitant but enough for Jisung to snap back to reality. You pulled back, apologies on the tip of your tongue but he was faster. Jisung pulled you fully against his body, one hand still holding your wrist, the other holding your face. He wasn’t hesitant, not like you. He pressed his lips against yours. It was gentle and sweet at first, yet it quickly turned into something more. Your head turned completely blank, the only thing that remained and that truly mattered was the feel of his warm, wet body against yours. The feel of his lips against yours. His taste. You were slowly but completely losing yourself, into the kiss, into him and it didn’t matter. It felt perfect and more. You had imagined kissing Jisung a thousand times and yet the reality was so much better. 

You didn’t know how long you stayed like this, or who was the first to break the kiss. All you knew was that this kiss left you warm and fuzzy and wishing it could last forever. 

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Bickering 

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~1.6k

Summary: Doing one of your favorite activities with your favorite person should be fun, right?

A/N: This is the cat fluff fic. Very loosely related to Fletcher. We’ll see more of her later. 

Warnings: Fluff and minor conflict.

“No, Y/n we’re not getting that.”

You and Wanda are grocery shopping for your weekly dinner with family tonight, and she’s starting to regret coming with you on this trip. Wanda loves spending time with you, but sometimes she realizes that she’s not needed for a particular situation, and sometimes it’s even better if she’s not there.

You would argue otherwise for most things, but grocery shopping is something you enjoy doing in solitude. You’re just used to it that way because Wanda rarely goes out in public with you to do something as mundane as this, so when she tags along, you’re always a little thrown. Not to mention, you aren’t able to sneak as many sweets and junk food when your wife is watching you.

“Come on, Wands! I need some chocolate to keep at work.”

As well as at home and in your car, but you don’t say this out loud. Even though you’re sure that Wanda knows this you would be lying if you said you thought this was an argument you could win tonight. You’re proven right when Wanda reminds you that she’s just as stubborn as you when it matters, and you sigh in defeat as you throw your hands up.

“That’s not what the dentist said, Y/n.”

You knew this was going to come back to bite you at some point. You would admit that you ate a lot of sugar, but you also took really good care of your teeth. You’d gone years without getting a cavity, but this last visit had broken your record and given your wife fuel to try and get you to eat healthier.

“One cavity! I had one cavity, and it was the first in five years.”

“Three years, detka.”

You sigh and roll your eyes in defeat as you put the bag of chocolate back on the shelf with a little more force than strictly necessary. You go to grab the cart and you start to push it toward the end of the aisle, and away from temptation.

“Fine, no chocolate, but I’m making a cheesecake for dinner tonight.”

Wanda knows that this is the best compromise she’s going to get for now. She also knows that you’ll likely just buy yourself chocolate at a later date when she isn’t with you, but she’s not going to think about that right now.

“Alright. As long as you don’t eat too much of it. I’m not staying up until 2 when your sugar high peaks.”

You roll your eyes at this but you can’t help but laugh at the memory. You’d been having a movie marathon sleepover with Yelena and you’d eaten so much sugar that you’d been running around the house at 2am. Wanda had not been pleased and you’d actually slept on the couch that night.

“Fair enough.”

Wanda smiles at you as she hurries to catch up and help you gather the rest of the items on the list. You’re almost done shopping for dinner and you just have a few other household items that you need to replenish. You stifle a yawn as you turn down the aisle with the trash bags, laundry detergent and dog food. You realize your mistake immediately when you see Wanda’s face light up at the sight of the cat treats.

“Wands…”

You watch in horror as your wife grabs three bags of cat treats and puts them in the cart. You stop in your tracks as you shoot your wife a look that she misses completely.

“Hmm?”

“You’re not getting all of those.”

Wanda looks to you with a frown before she realizes that you’re serious. She wants to roll her eyes and huff in frustration at your insistence that she’s fattening up her cat. Sure, she spoils her sometimes with a lot of treats and cuddles, but you spoil Boone as well. She figures it’s only fair that Fletcher gets the same treatment.

“Why not? They’re small. I won’t give her too many.”

That’s a lie and you both know it, but you don’t even bother saying this before you try your hand at negotiating. Wanda can be reasonable when she has to be. However, when her loved ones are involved, she can lose sight of what it means to be reasonable very quickly.

“At least get greenies so she can clean her gross teeth as she gets fat.”

Wanda stops short of grabbing the treat bags as she shoots you an offended look. She abandons them again, leaving you to replace them with dental treats as she puts a hand on her hip.

“Her teeth are not gross, and she’s not fat! Don’t be mean to her.”

You can’t help but laugh at this because God your wife will defend her cat to the ends of the Earth. You sometimes think she likes her more than she likes you, but that’s not something you’re going to bring up now. You’d rather counter her argument with facts that she can’t dispute, but there are times where that doesn’t actually make much of a difference with Wanda. This unfortunately is one of those times.

“I cleaned her teeth last month, Wands. They were pretty gross.”

Wanda doesn’t like this and she’s about to argue, but you cut her off as you address the second part of her argument.

“She’s also a solid 6/9, so she definitely could lose some weight.”

“6/9! That’s not true, she’s just fluffy.”

You don’t know how you ended up having an argument about your cat in the middle of the grocery store with your mobster wife, but this isn’t how you imagined your Sunday going when you woke up this morning. Still, you smile slightly because you wouldn’t have it any other way, even if you did end up annoying Wanda a bit with the truth. You’d had the discussion before, and Wanda had been resistant then as well, but you really didn’t want Fletcher to be fat. She could be a 6 out of 9, 4 and 5 were ideal, but you didn’t want her heavier. As you’d told Wanda, it just made getting around harder and she could have more health issues in the future because of it. This is the part that had made Wanda commit to at least trying to feed her less.

She refused to believe that her cat wouldn’t live to be 25.

However, that was a conversation for another day.

“She is fluffy, my love, but she’s also a big girl. We just need to watch it, and maybe feed her a little less.”

Wanda frowns at this but she doesn’t respond immediately. She knows that you’re right. She just loves to feed her adorable cat treats as she plays with her and teaches her tricks. She had laughed at your idea of getting her an exercise wheel, but maybe it wouldn’t be a horrible idea.

“Alright, doctor. If you say so.”

You smile and grab your wife’s hand as you head toward the check out. You’re exhausted and need to take a nap before you start cooking later.

“This was fun.”

You laugh at this as you roll up to the first line you see. There is a couple in front of you so just turn to your wife with a dubious look.

“Was it? I feel like we argued the whole time.”

Wanda smiles at this as she shrugs slightly. Sure, you two argued, but there were no hard feelings. She knew that Fletcher was fat and that she needed to exercise her more or feed her less. You also knew, cavities or not, that you shouldn’t eat so much chocolate. You smile when Wanda says this and you nod in defeat as you kiss her cheek and rest your head on her shoulder.

“That’s fair, and I still end up getting cheesecake and Fletcher gets her damn treats.”

Wanda just laughs as she starts to unload your groceries onto the belt with a sigh.

“It’s all about compromise I suppose.”

You nod in agreement as you help her finish up before shooting her a smile. She’s not sure what you’re going to say, but she doesn’t expect the abrupt topic change. She has to stop herself from groaning loudly as you greet the cashier.

“Now we just have to figure out how to tell that to your brother later.”

Wanda doesn’t want to think about how drunk her brother got at their last dinner together. It happened to coincide with their decision to tell their family that they were trying to have a baby, and things became chaotic. Pietro had been insistent on offering his services and Wanda had nearly thrown him out on his ass he’d gotten so out of hand. You blamed the expensive liquor and the good news, but Wanda just blamed her brother for being an idiot.

She sighs as she shakes her head with a frown. You can’t help but laugh at what she says, but you don’t dare argue when you have no idea what to expect from your brother-in-law.

“That’s a problem for another time, Y/n, but let me tell you if he brings that up again, I’m throwing him out.”

You kiss your wife’s cheek as you grab the full cart and head for the door. You just nod in agreement because honestly you can’t have that conversation again. Wanda had been mad for hours after Pietro left, and that hadn’t made you happy at all.

“Whatever you want, dear.”

Wanda rolls her eyes but just grabs onto your arm as you lead her to the car.

Masterlist

[rainbowcarousels]

Three years ago, I did a AGSZC post about how they love or at least lust and I thought I would bring it back and see what's different.

Genesis

Pansexual as fuck. Likes the wine, not the label. Also more of a casual fucker than anyone else because sex can just be something fun to do and sometimes variety of the spice of life. He is also the spice of life, so it works well.

Love language is touch so he is absolutely the person who does random touches throughout the day, from reaching over to push back hairs to 'accidental' hand brushing, he's like a cat who doesn't want you to know they want your attention while simultaneously pushing you to give them the attention.

I think a lot of people think he's fussy but he's not, he's just big on body reclaimation especially after degradation. Being able to shift his look, to feel a little softer in his own space, it's an important part of why Shinra has never been the be all entity for him. As such, I think he pushes for the same for people he loves as part of that sense of love because he values that independence and self expression. He likes to bring a little chaos and impulse to things so he likes to push and challenge, especially in bed.

Highest sex drive of the lot of them, but is also probably the person most versed in his own body too because he both took the time to figure out what he liked. Also his skills really translate well to sex. He's a mage so he's good with his hands and his dexterity, he's learned to roll his tongue to do more than recite the plays inspired by LOVELESS and he feeds off of reactions then responds in kind.

Possessive as all hell, he likes to see his handiwork in all manner of places. He's a biter, he's a scratcher and he will write on them with anything to hand. There has definitely been some knifeplay with that writing.

While he can seperate sex and love, when the two mix is generally when he's in his element. Whether that's the kind of puppy love he has with Angeal, the demanding ferocity of Sephiroth, the casual enthusiasm of Zack or the intense connection of Cloud, it's a different experience for him and he never treats anyone exactly the same. He would 100% have a good time with Tifa and the sheer power of that woman but if we go JBSWM-verse, baby sister called dibs and being violently possessive of loved ones seems to be a family trait.

Sephiroth

Has a tendency to think practically about sex as a biological thing, right up to the point he can push out of that mindset and then, it's all pure desire and instinct. Everything becomes want and need very quickly once he's made up his mind and then he's just all about completely enveloping the other person into himself. There is a reason he wants everyone to be inside him canonly, okay? It's just some misplaced kink.

Generally a little touch starved when he was younger so he's very touch focused as an adult. Like there is a reason he likes nails down his back or bites or anything that really gets under his skin and takes a while to leave. It's this evidence of something important.

For someone who has largely used his body as a weapon to inflict violence, also really into wringing out the most pleasure that he can. Once someone is below those barriers, I think he has a lot of fun getting genuine responses from people. The kind of things that they may not notice in themselves but he files away as part of something they like. Even with himself, I think he notes things like how he's all about how different things feel.

Absolute bastard too, total tease when he's being controlling and thus when those tables get turned and he chooses to give that up, it's always about getting pushed to his limits. That's why it's always with someone he loves and trusts enough to do that - he may not have a choice in how his body was/is used in some ways but in the ways that matter to him, he is very particular about who he lets near him and how much he'll trust them. I think this is the core of Genesis's desire to get a very vocal response some day, he wants to try and wipe the restraints of this away and get him swallowed up in the moment while being swallowed down.

Way more tentative about being the instigator, but again, I think that's just because he's so much in the spotlight that so little of his life is his that he's obscenely possessive of what he has and the public do not deserve to intrude on it.

Least straight of the bunch. There's only one pussy that ends up in his bed and it's him. (Sephiroth as cat jokes will never get old and I will not apologise for them.)

Angeal

Surprisingly, I think he's the one who has the most sharing when we're doing things on the poly side. I don't think it's so much possessiveness as he has a very traditional idea of what a love story is and can't always seperate himself from the idea that love is about being someone else's everything and that makes it harder with multiple people involved. He might advocate sharing but he's not always a big fan of it, so he does like a lot of one-on-one time to try and sate that feeling.

I also think comparatively, Angeal's the most 'straight' of the bunch. Genesis slipped under the wire because he's 100% demi and that connection means that what parts he had wasn't really a deal breaker and Sephiroth got in under the 'Sephiroth defies categorisation' rule. If you want to extend that to Zack, he comes under Genesis any twenty minutes you let them be bored alone together as another person where it's how he knows him and if you want to add in Cloud, well, he does like the spitfires, doesn't he? I think baby Genesis made an impression.

Care as a love language. Absolutely loves to feel needed, to take care of who he's with even if he can roast them during doing so. It's about giving them food, making them comfortable and pushing out of his comfort zone when he can because he does love them. He likes to make love more than fuck, I'm not even sure he knows how to just fuck. The two things are so linked for him.

Does enjoy the commander role in bed, which is pretty funny when he's with people who outrank or are the same rank as him. I think he enjoys the idea of just getting under their skin enough to let them relax and he can just take care of everything - but not right away, this is someone who screams edger to me both for himself as a sense of denial and for whoever he's with.

Rarely has anal sex. Not because of a lack of enjoyment, it's just that - as I think I wrote somewhere before - it's not just his wallet that's tight. He has trouble relaxing into it and I think it takes a lot longer and they just don't really have the time. He does however have large fingers and knows how to use them. I like to think this came from Genesis being ready to be sexually active before he was so he got a lot of practice in doing other intimate things before he was ready for that.

Zack

Pure energy and enthusiasm, Zack is just someone who's up to try anything and roll with it. I don't think he always likes everything but he's maybe the most open minded of the lot and loves trying new experiences. I don't think he takes sex particularly seriously often, it's something fun, it's a great release of endorphins and as such, I think he can dial down the intensity best and just be funny and silly with it.

100% has no preference between genders, he is an equal opportunity guy and if you ask, he might say yes regardless. I think he and Genesis are the most likely people to have fucked someone else they work with and still get on okay with them. I think he's just trying to get the most of his experiences without labelling them.

That doesn't mean he can't get intense. I think when he's gotten right into the moment, he can get very intense and instinctive. Like he might be a dope and he might squeal like a puppy but I think with him it's a matter of needing everything all at once. He's impatient so I do also think that means he pushes himself over the edge a lot sooner than he often means to.

Honestly I think his love language is wound up in that almost starry eyed sense of what love is, like it's a big feeling and he's not always great at expressing those because it's serious and really important. When he tries, he pulls it out as doing things for people in a way that's similar to Angeal but I think that makes sense. He's grown up with Angeal so it feels like humour and acts of service would translate. Like he is little sloppy in bed, there's no finesse to it, but he's absolutely about to make sure everyone has a good time.

Falls in love easily. He's a little spacy, he doesn't have the best track record for his attention span, but in the moment when he's with someone, they're his entire world. He has a great sense of devotion, we see it in canon with Cloud, but I don't think how spacy he is makes him easy to deal with so I think that's why he needs someone who understands that.

Cloud

I think Cloud does actually prefer men but in the same way as Genesis snuck under Angeal's wire, Tifa kind of snuck under his and they have a similar sense of young love. As such, I think he tends to lean more masculine for type but really, people who kick ass is probably his sexuality.

So sensitive to touch. Seriously. He is so easy to get worked up and get a very vocal response out of and he is so mad about it. I don't think it's voluntary, he's just someone who gets off on being given a lot of touch - both rough and affectionate - so it's easy to get him overwhelmed and squirming. We've all seen the Wall Market scene, it's practically a canon trait.

While I think he can match anyone's energy - well maybe not Zack, but who can? - I think when he's instigating anything sexual, he doesn't really leave wiggle room for interpretation. This isn't the 'gentle touches so you know I want to' with Angeal, it's not 'pushed into the nearest wall' like Sephiroth once he decides he wants it or Zack coming straight out and asking but I think the closest is probably Genesis in that he wants to challenge and be challenged. He wants pushback, he wants to feel it and they're damn well going to feel it tomorrow if he has anything to do with it.

I think as the person with the least experience in relationships and sex, he's a little more tentative. I think he enjoys finding kinks he enjoys, but it's a gradual gliding in and not jumping right in to trying it. There is a part that wants to seem aloof and will pushback against the idea he needs anything or anyone but I think the right people can dismantle that by dismantling him in the best way.

Chronic blusher and hates himself for it. Can and will attempt to hide it and it's genuinely pretty funny to see someone that turned on and that grumpy, no wonder Zack tends to get the giggles.

I will probably add to this at some point but it was fun to think about!

[sol-consort]

So you know that “love biting” thing humans sometimes do? I’m imagining a non humans reaction to getting bit for the first time by their human friend or lover, they put their hand a little too close to the humans mouth and the primal comping urges triggered in the human. “Dude, wtf, why did you bite me?” And the humans just looking at them like 🥰

(Looking it up, the love biting seems to be an expression of cute or love aggression)

all fun and games until a turian/prothean/krogan decides to playfully bite back, and now the marks of their teeth are permanently engraved into your skin for eternity

Otherwise, yeah, munch munch munch! Even with our pets, we love pretending like we're going to eat/bite them, taking a chomp of air and puffing our cheeks as if we just took a bite from their fluffy fur/feathers

Our teeth aren't that sharp either, with only 4 semi-pointy canines, the rest are relatively blunt enough to run our tongue against, press into others without breaking the skin and give playful bites without worry about causing any actual injuries.

The rest of the species?

Only the salarian and angara seem...safe-ish to get bitten by. Asari appear—to us at least—to have the same skull and jaw structure of a human, they should have the same teeth.

Angara teeth remind me of rabbits for some reason, kinda cute. Or cats teeth minus the canines? I wonder if they don't have them or if they're simply just hidden.

Prothean teeth scare me, man. idk what's going on in there. Why is every incisor double-sided and growing sideways–why are the canines so pointy and long like a vampire.

A single krogan tooth is probably the size of your three middle fingers combined. And those are front teeth, god knows how big the back molars are.

Don't even get me started on turians, oh my god, those are legit razorblades.

The winners of "the worst species for a human to get bitten by" competition are:

The vorcha.

[bonefall]

do you have anymore background characters youve given new info? ie mintflower and stormcloud idk if the question made sense

OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD LETS GO;

Sorreltail has epilepsy, loves grasshoppers, is hyper and loves getting in trouble with Squilf. She becomes head of kitchen patrol

Deerfoot, Tangleburr, and Runningnose are extremely important characters in TPB now, as representations of politics in ShadowClan

Graypool has a surviving biokitten who was raised as the brother of Misty and Stone; Swansong

Havenpelt is an ex-rogue

Olivenose is an ex-kittypet

Talonpaw survives into Talonclaw and is the son of Tangleburr

Smokepaw survives as well and becomes Smokefall. They are gay.

Bumble is a huge part of DOTC and the very reason why ThunderClan is formed, eventually being worshipped as a language god

Plumstone and Thriftear are shrewd partners who have SCARY good teamwork, and are gay

Fernstripe can't cook and loves board games

Shellfur is a mean but funny jackass who goes very far for his wife

Harestar and his goddamn tunnelbun habits

Mumblefoot was dyspraxic

Wildfur made the entire journey while paralyzed

Littlecloud has catastrophic autism levels and is best friends with Cinderpelt, plus being the brother of Rowanstar

Stumptail is a simpleminded guy with a heart of gold

Billystorm was a himbo

Billybrook/Stormbrook is deathly afraid of water because of a traumatising experience with it

Swallowtail was mates with Rainwhisker and would have done something more drastic if he hadn't died in the WindClan Rebellion, but she did have two kits (Rippletail and Rainstorm)

Brightheart does surrogacy for cats in other Clans sometimes

Stoneclaw, a cat mentioned in only one field guide, is surviving and becomes a reliable warrior of WindClan

Morningflower LOVES to joke around and is a fantastic mentor

Oakfur, Morningflower, and Rosepetal have a little gathering clique and rivalry.

Owlclaw of ShadowClan, Harestar and Kestrelflight of WindClan, are all secretly brothers from a Whitewater x Mudclaw pairing

Longtail comes out of retirement to mentor Jayfeather and was the previous deputy before Graystripe

Snapstorm and Brushblaze are ex-bloodclan traders who ended up settling in WindClan

Perchshine, who killed Mapleshade, went to the barn and was mates with the cat who had a broken jaw, Domino

He had a daughter named Magpiesky who rejoined RiverClan

Sedgecreek was mates with Greenflower, but broke it off after Greenflower disowned Swallowtail for suspicion of a halfclan relationship

Reedwhisker's apprenticeship was extended for an entire year because his aunt/mentor, Skyheart, is a horrible person

Ratscar raised Snowbird alone, when their mother Appledapple died. Snowbird is his little sister

Ratscar is gay and fools around with Blackstar and Iceheart

He is considered extremely attractive in Clan society and he flaunts his charisma

Flowerstem in ShadowClan becomes Flowerscar after earning an honor title

Lakeheart's sister Dapplepaw got eaten by a fish and Dappletuft was named after her

Harelight has an honor title because he is now a light in the mist. His old name was Harefur.

Mistystar liked to give litters matching names, for example, Dappletuft, Harefur, and Softpelt were all hair-related.

Squirrelflight’s tail is a family trait seen in her grandfather Redtail, and his mother Rosetail

Rosetail was aromantic (cupioromantic for a while specifically) but LOVED matchmaking. She was always asking Redtail when he was going to start seeing Runningwind.

Mudclaw won't eat his bugs; this is akin to a grown man not eating his vegetables

Tornear's name is now Torear, a small rocky outcrop seen in moorlands

Both Mudclaw and Torear were cooking mamas. Mudclaw passed this onto Crowfoot. Torear was exasperated by how Harestar was so gauche he would bite tunnelbuns. Where did he go wrong??

OH yes, Torear raised Harespring and Kestrelflight, he is their dad. Queen’s Rights applies to all three genders.

Russetfur's favorite food is rat

Snowkit died shoving Tawnykit out of the way of the hawk. He was religious and loved stargazing and glyph writing

Speckletail died attacking a bulldozer. She won

Whitewing is deaf

Jessy is a genius inventor who created a mobility device for Briarlight that allowed her to, for the first time since the accident, safely stroll around outside of camp without risk of injury. It was LIFECHANGING

Firestar can't taste sweetness because Clan cats have a "sweetness tolerance" gene, like lactose tolerance

There I hope that's enough trivia to satiate you for now lmao

[randomreadingtimewithtsuki]

Please may I have some Bleach Headcanons of how Ichigo dealt with an aggressive cat called Thorns who hates his guts for some reason and Ichigo couldn't cuddle or anything like that with his S/O (S/O is a literal goddess with Elizabeth's personality from the seven deadly sins and you know the rest about S/O including that S/O knew Ichigo since childhood and Ichigo's family knew S/O because S/O is Ichigo's girlfriend and S/O knows that Ichigo is a soul reaper and she joins him on adventures and everything.) when Thorns tries to find every single opportunity to try and scratch his face off when S/O isn't looking or wasn't in the room..Thorns for some reason thinks that Ichigo is going to break his owners heart or something (Ichigo will never do that..especially not to his girlfriend) and it is ridiculous really..Ichigo arguing with a literal cat who yowls/hisses right back at him..S/O has three cats actually..Biscuits and Sage were the only ones who actually loved him but Thorns is an absolute demon/meance towards Ichigo yet he was sweet as sugar to everyone else.

How would Ichigo feel and behave to that Thorns possibly has a personal vendetta against him or something..

Hello!

Thank you for requesting!

I am terribly sorry for the delay! My arm took a long ass time to heal properly.

Anyway! I hope this is of your liking. Please let me know what you think!

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You had three cute kittens. Maybe not actually kittens, but for you they will always be kittens.

You have them since you were young and that means they know Ichigo and his sisters for a long time.

Especially because his sisters loved playing with the cats! So Ichigo brought them over to play with them - or so he said.

You noticed that one of your cats tended to hide away and stare at Ichigo, but you gave no thought to it.

When you started dating the boy, he swore up and down the cat, called Thorns hated him.

You thought it was ridiculous, Thorns was lovely, affectionate and smart.

But little did you know that when as soon as you turned your head, the cat would hiss and be ready to pounce at Ichigo.

Your boyfriend decided to cuddle you? There goes the cat in between you.

Trying to brush your hair? There was Thorns moving his butt ready to grab Ichigo's hand.

But at this moment you thought Thorns just wanted the brush, because you know, it's an object that moves?

Sometimes you could hear your boyfriend arguing with the cat. You found that kinda cute and concerning at the same time.

Meanwhile whenever that happened it meant Ichigo was at his wits end. What was he suppose to do with this kitty?

Obviously he won't harm him, but he tried to befriend the pet in all ways!

Tried snacks, play time, pats, catnip and Thorns still treated him like the worst enemy ever.

Even the arrancars weren't this bad.

Why? Because the cat knew you were looking and he would quit the aggressive behavior. But as soon as he noticed your attention was elsewhere, boom! Scratches and bites everywhere.

So Ichigo tried his best to avoid dates at your house and when they did happen, he tried to either stick close to you or keep the cats out of the room.

He was pretty sure Thorns had something personal, maybe it was his orange hair? Because the other kittens - Biscuits and Sage - loved him.

The poor boy even started to wonder if the cats could talk it out among themselves. Maybe Thorns would understand Ichigo means not threat.

He even thought that maybe Yorichii could help?

Ichigo did ask her if she could understand cats - but he gave no context, just... an odd curious question.

But that didn't help at all. The woman just laughed and gave no definite answer.

If she could chat with cats, she definitely knew why Thorns hated him so much.

After a really long time Ichigo finally made friend with the cat when after a rough a battle, he was in tatters and you carried him home.

The cats saw how sad and desperate you were to save Ichigo.

Sensing your panic, they cuddle near you, except for Thorns.

The cat curled up near Ichigo.

As the boy was showing slow, but steady improvement of his health, the cat started to lay on his chest.

Cute? For you, yes. For Ichigo not so much.

They were closer, yes, but Thorns would jump with all strength he could muster on his little paws on the boy belly.

Sometimes laying near his mouth or neck - Ichigo swore the cat would try to murder him anytime.

Well, that did not happen.

After this event, Thorns became kinder, but at every opportunity shown to bounce or claw Ichigo he took.

Most of the times at unexpected times like when the poor boy would be chilling on the couch.

But hey, it's a work in progress!

Ichigo had faith that eventually Thorns would accept him enough. They didn't need to become best buddies, just to tolerate.

It would be good enough yeah...

Until then, he still argued with the cat and still got scratched, but! He no longer got bitten. A win is a win right?

---------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading!

I feel like this got a bit short... sorry!

[delopsia]

del 🌼🍰🩷🌷💓 (i’ll let you decide if you’d like to include why or any headcanon-y tidbits that pop into your lovely noggin) 💐 but if you had to assign one for each man (hawthorn au rhett & robby)…

hotdog / hamburger 

pancakes / waffles (or a secret third thing, french toast)

onion rings / french fries

milkshake / soda float 

autumn / spring

cake / pie

usually in a hat / almost never in a hat (cowboy or ballcap)

chocolate flavored treat / fruit flavored treat

cats / dogs

most likely to text / most likely to call

(in the event of needing only one vehicle) who’s driving / who’s riding shotgun

big spoon / little spoon

Omg hello 🌷🍓💕

hotdog / hamburger Bobby is absolutely a hotdog kind of guy; he's the primary reason they appear at every Dagger Cookout. He can find Hamburgers near every fast food chain, so when he gets the chance, he'll absolutely go for a hotdog, but that's only if they're pan-fried or off the grill. They've gotta be a little bit charred.

Rhett loves to give him trouble for the amount of toppings he'll put on them, too. It's a remnant from when he was in college; his momma got him one of those indoor grills, and the only thing he could really afford to grill was hotdogs. At some point, he got bored of the flavor and learned to experiment 🌭

Rhett is the hamburger guy; it's just something he's learned to appreciate after a lifetime of raising beef cattle. He's pretty damn good at finding the good stuff, too, and fortunately enough, he's decently handy at operating a grill. It's the one thing he can cook, and he's damn proud of it.

pancakes / waffles (or a secret third thing, french toast) Rhett's heavily on the side of waffles; he likes that they're crispier than pancakes. Sometimes, he'll add chocolate chips or eat 'em plain without syrup; it depends on what he's craving.

Bob though? Die-hard french toast lover. Especially when he can add berries to them. Strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, together or individually. He'll even add some banana every now and then. Momma Floyd used to make them every Saturday morning, and they never fail to take him right back to his childhood.

Until Rhett drives by and steals a bite, at least.

onion rings / french fries A part of me likes to reckon that Rhett was the french fry lover until Bob finally convinced him to give them a second try. Come to find out, not every onion ring tastes like the vile ones he got from that Wabang gas station. Now you've got to beat him back with a broom to keep him from stealing one or three.

milkshake / soda float  Bobby adores his milkshakes, especially if there's a cherry involved 🤍 but he's been known to lean over and steal some of Rhett's beloved rootbeer float every now and again.

autumn / spring Rhett's an autumn soul. It's the prime season of his favorite sport, that time of year when his flannel and jeans aren't too hot or too cold. He's been known to come in with a leaf clinging to the brim of his hat as well 🍁

Bobby is spring. His allergies absolutely hate the season to its core, but he loves to venture out and see all the new flowers. You've gotta be careful with him because he'll go out and buy a bunch of flowers to plant in the garden, and he'll be sick before he's even got them out of the truck 🌷

cake / pie Pie and cake is a funny thing in this house. Rhett adores ice cream cake, but if it's not that, then he'll tell you that he likes pie (it's because Bobby makes them). Robby enjoys both, but he leans toward fruit-flavored pies. Now if you pull out a cake with fruit in/on it...

usually in a hat / almost never in a hat. Rhett has to be pried out of his hat; it's a little bit ridiculous. He's so used to needing one around the ranch that he just? Doesn't? Know how to act without one? He feels naked if he steps outside without one. And then there are the days when he's so tired that he walks into the house and forgets to take it off...

Bob isn't a fan of wearing them because they tend to mess up his hair, but sometimes Rhett will notice him squinting in the sunlight and offers up a spare. However, he isn't above stealing Rhett's cowboy hat in the privacy of their own home. Sometimes, Rhett will be sitting on the couch, and he'll see his own hat pass by in the corner of his eye.

chocolate flavored treat / fruit flavored treat Fruit and Bobby go together way too well; if the name mentions fruit, then he's more than likely gonna reach for it. Rhett? Cannot be separated from chocolate. Cheap, expensive, obscure, it doesn't matter. Their tastes collide for chocolate covered fruits 🍓

cats / dogs Cats are universally loved, but Bob is the true cat guy. He can walk into a room, and every cat in the vicinity will wind up in his lap. Likewise, Rhett can take a nap in the barn and more often than not, wakes up to a barn kitty on his chest. But he's truly a dog person; he's found half a dozen strays and converted them to ranch puppies.

most likely to text / most likely to call Bob is the texter. He's not all that great at filling the silence during phone calls. He just can't think of anything to say, you know? Unfortunately for him, Rhett has big thumbs and sometimes struggles to type on that tiny little screen, so he just calls without warning.

who’s driving / who’s riding shotgun Rhett loves to be the driver, given that he's in a semi-rural area/not in a city. The winding roads unravel all the worries that have collected up in his head. Robby loves riding shotgun; getting to lay back and gaze out the window is one of his favorite parts of being in the truck. There are so many things you don't notice when you're doing the driving! But he will get motion-sick if you put him in the backseat, so his riding options are somewhat limited.

big spoon / little spoon Big spoon Bobby! It's his favorite thing. He doesn't get to feel "big" a lot in his life, he's never been noticeably muscular or had a presence that fills the room before he enters. In fact, he didn't experience it a whole lot until Rhett and Reader wandered into his life.

He's obsessed with the feeling it gives him, like a pillar in the wind, warding off anything that could ever hurt whoever is snuggled into his arms. Rhett, in particular, triggers a sort of protectiveness Bob didn't realize he had. This massive, tough-as-nails cowboy trusts him this much? Ugh.

Likewise, Rhett adores being able to exchange his strength for vulnerability. It's nice to feel protected, especially when he's spent so much of his life being the protector. He's funny when he gets to fall into that role because he loves to snuggle his head over Bob/Reader's chin. He can and will fall asleep like that. Rough and tumble cowboy by day and oversized cuddle bug by night?

[hauntingjasper]

My Ran/Jackie Headcanons Because They Live In My Head Rent Free And I Love Them:

(I hope this is comprehensible enough, i struggle with English sometimes.)

Ran is a bit of a picky eater. This one is because he canonically prefers meat, and also projection. Lots of projection. He's the kind of fella who will die internally if he bites into something weird in his food. And he hates onions. Fuck onions.

Listen, i know Jackie bodyslammed him two or three times during the fic but he gets better when he gets older, trust me- /hj

He purrs. That's just common sense. /j

Ran purrs for a variety of reasons, either because he's hurt (cats do that!), or because he's content and comfortable, or even because he's trying to convey safety to whoever he's comforting in the room. This is just an Enderman headcanon i have in general.

Ran has either a book or notes he wrote himself on how to properly comfort people and what to do/say to them. Jackie's "thinking sessions" were one of the biggest reasons he decided to do his research.

He DOES roll in the grass, you can't fool me, Aetherman.

His love language is Acts Of Service.

He likes how makeup looks on others but can't use it himself because it feels weird on his skin. This one is because i think Enderman skin might be different from other creature's skin. It's also a bit of a projection, idk why that happens.

He's not into PDA (Public Display of Affection) and gets awkward when it comes to kissing in public. He tends to "playfully" dismiss Jackie's attempts to do so.

Ran still has several pockets in his clothes and carries several things inside them, he's always the first one to be asked if he has *insert certain thing* because someone else is needing it. Safety pins and hair clips are at the top of the list.

He can see in the dark. Terminus doesn't have a sun so I assume it doesn't have strong light sources either, so it makes sense to me.

In addition to that, there are times when he doesn't like the bright sunlight of the Overworld, especially when he wakes up and is still too tired to properly process his surroundings.

He sleeps in the most uncomfortable-looking positions ever and he's always clinging to something, or someone, while he sleeps.

Ran and Jackie have matching rings. Or necklaces. I like matching jewelry.

Ran goes to the library, this is what he gets: History, Historical fiction and Detective and Mystery.

On the other hand, this is what Jackie gets: Dystopian, YA, Self-Help and Romance and I'll stand by that.

Ran might join him to read and talk about the Romance books, which is another way to say that he'll hear Jackie slander the shit out of the story because he didn't like it.

They might also try to recreate some scenes, and the characters' expressions. The more ridiculous, the better.

Jackie purposely leaves his hair messy because he knows Ran will get annoyed and fix it for him, hence the hair clips.

Neither Ran nor Jackie can cook for shit, and when they do, they always need to have a Cook Book next to them.

Jackie pulls the "Should've killed me when you had the chance" card on Ran. Constantly. /lh

Jackie's love language is Quality Time. But he makes it seem like it's Physical Touch.

He's often the little spoon. I said what I said.

Jackie tends to swing between feeling really good when Ran looks out for him and feeling really weirded out too. It's nice to finally have someone who genuinely cares for you after your previous one came to a tragic end. But Jackie is used to having to fend for himself and be independent from a young age, so there are times when he thinks he's being a burden, or his brain just short-circuits with the attention.

"Would you still love me if i was a worm?" "Again these stupid questions, what the fuck do you want from me-"

"You're the reason why shampoo bottles have instructions." - Ran to Jackie at any opportunity given. Affectionately.

Ran occasionally visits Watson's cell. Because he needs advice. Watson highly considers sabotaging him sometimes.

Jackie is the kind of guy who would secretly do the middle finger in pictures.

Ran is the kind of guy who would notice it first and scold him for that.

Ran has several boxes of puzzle games in his room. And also monopoly. For some reason he keeps going to jail.

Not exactly a headcanon but i just can't be the only who thought of a cockatoo when Ran's spines were mentioned lmao

Ran has a notebook full of drawings and possible designs for clothes. He might use Jackie as his model once in a while.

If they had a more "specific" ship name, i think it would be either Desert Bluebells or Jackknife. Knifetrick also works, but if you wanted to know my other suggestions-

I think that's all for now!

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading! :D