#How to take the temperature of a cat in its ears

[petdogs]

How to Take Your Cats Body Temperature

Taking your cat's temperature is the only surefire method to determine if it is feverish. If the cat is not resisting you, the entire procedure ought to take just a few minutes. Most cats typically have a body temperature of 100.5 to 102.5 degrees Fahrenheit. Depending on other symptoms, a trip to the veterinarian can be necessary in cases with a higher fever. Read Here...

[blythesarchives]

Bucky catches you snuggling with Alpine.

a/n: Just a short, fluffy drabble. I am finishing up a Valentine's day fic with Bucky but wanted something posted while I work on it. Not very long because it's just a small, short thing. Tried to keep reader gender neutral for this but nickname 'doll' is used. Not proof read.

Bucky trudged through the door, his heavy footsteps echoing in the quiet space. His shoes felt like they were made of lead, each step requiring more effort than usual after the long and demanding day he'd had.

All he wanted was to come home and see you. You were the one bright spot that made everything worthwhile. The mid-afternoon sun cast long shadows through the windows, and with the distinct late-winter chill in the air, he reasoned you would be somewhere inside, wrapped up warm and cozy. "Doll?" His voice carried through the apartment as he called out, "I'm home." The silence that greeted him was unusual, and he waited a moment longer, straining to hear any response. He sniffled, his rosy nose slightly runny from the temperature change.

His brow furrowed with mild concern as he made his way deeper into the apartment. The living room stood empty and still, showing no signs of your presence. He made his way to the bedroom, where his eyes fell upon the familiar sight of a mountain of blankets piled on the bed, creating soft peaks and valleys in the dim light trying to peek through the curtains.

There you were, peacefully lost in slumber, your features relaxed and serene. But what caught his attention and made him pause in the doorway was the unexpected sight beside you, tucked away as if it was the most natural thing in the world...Alpine.

His mischievous, very picky feline had always been something of a challenge when it came to you. She had maintained a careful distance, showing what could generously be called tolerance of your presence in her domain. Unlike her usual affectionate behavior with him - the classic cat moves of weaving between legs or offering loving headbutts - she had kept her interactions with you to a minimum, typically just offering distant meows of acknowledgment or the occasional allowance to pet her after you fed her.

But now, she had broken all her usual patterns. There she was, curled up against your body, her small form nestled perfectly into the curve of your chest, both of you peacefully lost in shared dreams.

He smiled to himself, feeling a warmth blossom and spread through his chest, effectively combating the lingering winter chill that clung to him from being outside. Bucky carefully approached the bed where you both laid, making sure to keep his footfalls as silent as possible on the wooden floor.

Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved his phone, a device he had despised but grown to tolerate through your patience and help to learn how it worked, and positioned it to capture this precious moment. To his delight, he managed to take several perfect shots of you and Alpine peacefully curled up together, both lost in contented slumber.

Despite his best efforts at stealth, Alpine's keen senses detected his presence. Her long, elegantly pointed ear twitched ever so slightly before her blue eyes slowly fluttered open. She fixed her gaze directly on Bucky, lifting her head from its cozy resting spot with graceful deliberation. "Mrrow..." she vocalized softly, the sound barely more than a whisper.

"Shh, don't wanna wake my pretty doll, do you?" He whispered with tender affection, extending his hand to gently scratch under Alpine's chin. His fingers found that perfect spot she loved so much.

The white ragdoll purred contentedly in response, her small body gracefully rolling from her side onto her back in a fluid motion, exposing her plush, cloud-like belly to the air. Her silky tail twitched rhythmically at her side as she stretched her limbs languorously, her delicate pink paw pads becoming visible as she playfully extended her paws toward him. Bucky couldn't resist as she gently pulled his hand down, and he obliged by scratching her chest and belly with gentle, circular motions, thoroughly spoiling his precious cat.

"My sweet girl... looks like you're finally getting more comfortable with daddy's partner, huh? That makes me so happy to see," he whispered affectionately. Alpine responded with a soft meow, rolling back onto her belly before curling her body snugly against yours, instinctively seeking out your natural warmth.

Not wanting to miss a moment of this perfect opportunity to cuddle with both you and his beloved cat, he quickly changed into some loungewear and carefully slipped into the bed beside you, maneuvering the blankets over himself until he could feel the cozy warmth you had been contentedly hoarding to yourself. "Now, we have to keep quiet, okay?"

"Mrrow," came her soft, response as her pretty sapphire eyes closed once more.

"Good girl, don’t be a hog now…” Bucky smiled as he positioned as close to you as possible without waking you, Alpine continued to lay snugly and contently between you both.

Ty for reading <3 | Image taken from Pinterest | Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

[starry-bi-sky]

Danny's used to finding lost kids in Amity.

The ghostly kind, that is. But the human variant happens on occasion too, usually when a too-lax parent takes their eyes off their child for far too long in the park. But he digresses.

It happens more often than he would like. He's not really sure what the family dynamics between ghosts are like in the Zone, he hasn't gotten around to asking about it. Although, it's not like he would be able to anyways — hard to ask questions about something you don't know much about. So far, it all seems kinda... laissez-faire.

Point is: Danny is used to finding lost kids in Amity.

It's since lost its novelty on him. Kids are kids everywhere, dead or alive, human or not. And kids are curious, and portals between the Infinite Realms and the Mortal World are rare in both dimensions. The braver ones will want to explore the things that are new and unknown to them, and they'll do so without any thought of what might happen.

The lost kids Danny finds are, more often than not, just kids who got curious about the portal and got too close to it, and ended up falling through. And in their panic and haste, accidentally fled the lab and got lost in the city.

Like right now.

The noise he makes as he squats to the ground, his knees bracketing his shoulders, is... well, the best way he could describe it is that it kind of sounds like a pigeon coo, or the trill a cat makes when you touch it while it's sleeping. It's as soft and as quiet as he could make it, while still being loud enough to be heard through his mask.

Ghostspeak is not a language that you can learn... technically speaking. That's because the majority of Ghostspeak relies heavily on core vibrations, of which Danny and other humans don't have. The verbal components that Ghostspeak does have also aren't done with the human vocal chords in mind, so most of the sounds Danny can't make.

...Except for a few.

The little noise he makes whips through the tunnel both him and the kid are in. The boy's terrified sniffling abruptly stops, if only because it's cut off by a teeny, startled gasp, and him snapping his head up at the sound.

Danny, crouched reminiscently like a frog, and a solid six feet away, tilts his head just slightly. He hunches his shoulders in and dips a little closer to the ground — it feels a bit awkward on his back, but he's found that moving unnervingly, even if it has to be animalistic, tends to help a lot in situations like these.

Lots of ghosts thrive off being weird and off-putting and inhuman; acting like one usually gets a lost ghost to calm down faster than if he didn't.

He can't parse how old the boy is — physically, he looks about eight, but he could always be older — but he can see shimmering, blue tear tracks streaking down his face. There's a snake-like seam stretching from both corners of his mouth and connecting up to his jaw, and little patches of scales around his yellow-eyes.

The boy's eyes go wide at the sight of him, before his pupils abruptly shrink into needles. The temperature plummets and the boy's mouth peels back to reveal two curved, deadly-looking fangs, and a perfunctory hiss comes out of his mouth.

"Go away!"

Danny does not go away, goosebumps rake down his arms and spine, and he cranes his neck until he hears it pop. The ringing in his ears subside, he braces and reaches back— "Ḩ̶̢̤͉̜̔̕- H̶̩́͋e̶̘̋̅̈̀ļ̵͎͉̑̒̚p̵͙̫͉̏."

He can't help the soft grunt that escapes him after, swaggling his head left and right like a lion shaking out its mane. His mask hides his grimace — he generates enough of his own ectoplasm to understand Ghostspeak and to have a few intrinsic abilities of his own, but compared to an actual ghost, it's minuscule.

It's like trying to speak in a register lower than your throat can handle; on a technical level he can in some aspects, but it still hurts to do. It's one of the few actual words he knows how to say, most are just sounds. Rumbles and trills and purrs that he's somewhat perfected.

The boy's face scrunches up, he shrinks a little away from Danny, looking both equally wary and judgmental. Which.. yeah, fair. That's the usual response. The boy croaks: "What?"

Danny tilts slightly forward — only enough to shift from a crouch to a partial kneel. He points at the boy, and then slowly draws his finger back to point at himself. "H̶̩́͋e̶̘̋̅̈̀ļ̵͎͉̑̒̚p̵͙̫͉̏," He repeats, throat straining, "ḩ̴̲̘̺͗͂ě̵̳̼̝̀̎͠͝l̶̬͈͍̳͂̓͆p̷̢̡̧̛̩̟̆̅͐͘."

He reaches back and tries to flare what little ecto-signature he has, and follows up with a low-rumbling noise he knows for certain means 'safecomfortsafe'.

Danny points to the exit of the tunnel: "H̵̼̹͎̊̏́͑̂͘͜ǫ̴̠̺̜̞́̕͜m̵̪̋e̸̢̞͔̞̺͛̽."

That seems to catch the boy's attention, his head perks up and his folded, pointed ears flap slightly. Unsteadily, his knees draw away from his chest, some of his distrust melting away like frost under the sun. "You- you know where home is?"

Danny can't say the word 'yes', its out of his range and his capabilities. But he knows how to mimic the sound of 'pleased', so he presses his cheek to the ground — ignoring the unpleasant clack it makes as mask thunks against concrete — and nods, replicating the trill.

The boy looks hopeful, a crack in the ice, before suddenly remembering to be wary. He shrivels back again, his brows furrowing and eyes narrow. "Who are you?"

"H̷͇͚̹͝e̶͉͑͗͒̂͝ĺ̸̡͇̟̅p̸̰̕." Danny repeats, because he doesn't know how to say "Phantom" in ghostspeak, and not every ghost knows English — Wulf is the first to come to mind in that regard. He points again to the exit: "H̵͈͉̖̳͚̾̀͐̄̀ö̶͖͑̄͝ḿ̷̨̭̬͋͆̃́e̵̺͑."

"Is that all you know how to say?" The boy asks, (more like demands) "Help and home?"

Danny nods again, he sits back up and slowly crawls back outwards from the tunnel, gesturing for the boy to follow. "H̴̤̊o̶̢̳̻͓̿m̵̘̘̀e̸̡̝̼̓̉," is all he says, "H̴̤̊o̶̢̳̻͓̿m̵̘̘̀e̸̡̝̼̓̉."

He only crawls back a few steps before stopping — he's not actually going to leave until he's certain the kid was going to follow him. And so far he wasn't moving, yet.

They stare at each other for a few long seconds, Danny watching expectantly. Emotions run rapid and rabbit across the kid's face, flickering between uncertainty and consideration. After a few minutes, victoriously, the boy drops his legs and begins to follow.

Danny rewards him with a very pleased trill. Perhaps some of his joy bleeds through his signature— the lines in the boy's face disappear for a moment as a little giggle escapes him.

"What are you?" The boy asks him once they're closer to the entrance, Danny holds his arm out to prevent the boy from walking out, and then peers out of the tunnel for stragglers. It's the middle of the night in Amity Park, but you never really know. "You don't feel like a ghost."

Ah, well. Danny glances at the boy, how does he explain liminality to someone who might not grasp the concept, and might not even know English? He barely understands himself what he is.

Danny shrugs, and points to himself, "H̷e̵l̷p̴."

[navydoves]

Cat!Zayne and his strange affectionate habits

you love your kitty boyfriend, but he does some strange things!

✎ᝰ a/n: highly requested kitty zayne is now part 4 of this series. im gonna do a "habits while in heat" sister series so if you wanna be tagged just tell me. caleb is gonna be the last one to complete the 5.

bunny xavier mermaid rafayel dragon sylus

⭐︎

��� he’s likes waiting. kitty zayne is very patient. he’ll never whine or complain (too much) about how long you’ve been gone or how far away mealtime is. he’ll definitely miss you, yes, but he likes focusing on the fact that you’re with him now.

he’ll sit by you on the bed and wait for you to wake up, but he’ll do this for hours if he needs to. if he wants to play or spend time with you but you’re busy, he’s perched right beside you quietly just very patiently waiting. you feel a little bad sometimes, but zayne reassures you by telling you that he doesn’t mind waiting. that all he cares about is getting you as his reward.

❥ he holds you with his tail. zaynes favorite form of physical affection is gripping onto you for dear life with his tail. it’s very casual too. when you’re doing dishes he’ll come up behind you and peck your scalp while his tail wraps around your waist. he’ll wrap his tail around your wrist in public to guide you and show affection.

he especially loves wrapping his tail around you when you’re asleep with him. with his strong arms under your armpits and around your chest and his tail either wrapped on your thigh or midsection, zayne refuses to go to sleep any other way. it’s a bit suffocating but zayne is naturally cool-skinned so it doesn’t make you overheat.

❥ he has sensory issues. because of this zayne is very particular about what he sleeps on, the texture of his food, how his ears/tail/nails are trimmed, etc. you’ll see him on the bathroom very meticulously snipping away at his hair to ensure it’s always clean and neat because it’ll bother him if it’s any other way. it’s also a plus to know he’s very clean.

he’s usually adverse to getting too close to someone because he also very easily overheats. which is why when he cuddles you, you’ll see him use his evol on his skin. similarly he prefers wearing very light clothing or being just straight up naked in bed because it helps him with temperature and also, he likes you feeling his bare body <3.

❥ he’s subtly territorial. he likes to remind you and everyone else around you that you’re his and vice versa. he’s not the type to whine or pout about it, but he’ll do things like stare people down or wrap his tail around your ankle if they’re being too friendly with you.

he also likes scenting you in every way possible. you think his head nudges and rubs are purely affectionate, but he also does them to get his natural kitty scent on you. its not a once or twice thing, its constantly throughout the day. especially when your scent is gone after a shower he’ll take like 10 minutes just to cover you in his smell again.

❥ he massages (kneads) you a lot! it’s well known that cats like kneading when they’re happy, but zayne likes to call it “massages”. this is because he only ever kneads you. his favourite places are your tummy and your thighs, but he’ll take anywhere.

very firmly but still gentle, he cups your soft flesh and squeezes or rubs with his large palms. even kitty zayne knows anatomy pretty well, so he’ll target the areas where the biggest muscle groups are or where you complain about being achy. it’s very soothing and somewhat erotic at times because his attention is fully on you. likes it’s a job to him play with your chub and skin.

❥ he’s at your beck and call. if zayne is gonna do something its gonna be listen to you. zayne is not submissive by nature, but he enjoys taking care of you so much that he’ll let you boss him around. he’s not a dog, but he’ll fetch if you ask.

if you ask him to cook he’ll cook for the next few days and always serve you first. if you ask him to use his car he’ll drive you himself and give extra money. if you ask him to jump he might just ask how high. it’s not overbearing by any means, it’s actually rather domestic and husband-like. he does things for you silently but his tail wags always indicate how happy he is doing it. ⭐︎ hey frens tags : @otomegamesforlife , @chersyluvs

[endursent]

Imagining for my parter turned into a cat. Imagine reader being a very popular kitty among the cat society and get mating offers from other kitties how would the guys react? I think Jelly jelly Jing yuan for sure, silent anger stare from Dan heng and pouty pouty Aven.

【 content; established relationship , humour , some jealousy/possessiveness...? , gn!reader , temporarily turned cat (reader) 】

【 characters; aventurine , dan heng , jing yuan 】

【 note; this got a bit out of hand. thank you for the ask! love these little goobers... 】

【 word count; 2.827 | masterlist 】

Jing Yuan;

As much as you enjoy being pampered and cuddled by your dear Jing Yuan… it’s much too hot to be engulfed by his practically radiating body today. The weather systems of the Luofu have been slowly shifting into simulating the warmth of summer, and it seems whoever is in charge of maintenance forgot to input a maximum temperature, because no way this was intentional. 

  It’s humid, hot, and you want to find a little pond to lie down beside—worst case scenario, you hang out in the Fyxestroll Gardens. They’re always cool and nice, cloudy and spooky enough to chase people away from crowding it on warmer days. 

  Trotting down the connecting paths between the Exalted Sanctum and the nearest transport station, your ears flick curiously as you hear footsteps in tune with yours, with only mild delay. Raising your gaze, you see a small white and brown coloured cat on top of the large partition walls separating markets from the pathways. It stops when you do and sits down, tail swaying almost excitedly.

  You’re not entirely sure what it wants, but you have a starskiff to catch! You start walking again and pick up your speed until the other cat runs out of walls to run along and follow you.

  It doesn’t become an isolated incident either, you were trying to get some grilled fish from a stall you often visit in your normal form. Using your best kitty eyes and rubbing along old Wan’s legs to try and get some leftovers (not that Jing Yuan doesn’t feed you, but you REALLY want this specifically made fish), the old stall-owner gives in and gives you some small pieces, though raw—better for your current form, not your preference in texture, but you’ll take it. 

  Unfortunately, as you’re carrying your prize along to return to the Seat of Divine Foresight, a white-furred cat joins you on the street—immediately rubbing its body along yours as it’s tail sways happily and finds yours. 

  Now, you just assume this guy wants your fish. This is YOUR fish. 

  Hissing and kicking their side with your hind leg, you shoot off to protect your loot and hurry to the Cloud Knight that guards the way to the Seat. 

  The third time, you’re sitting and watching Jing Yuan play chess against Yanqing yet again, usually you would be busy at your own job at this time, but given your predicament… you get to hang around. You whacked a piece off the board once, and now you’re a confined prisoner on Jing Yuan’s lap. 

  After dozing off for a while—ironically on the dozing general’s lap—you wake up to see Jing Yuan scooping a cat up and moving it away. Where did that come from??

  As you had been sleeping, two cats had come into the gardens, which isn’t too unusual, the ponds and thick trees are perfect napping spots and no one minds having cats around to pet and feed. Though they hadn’t come to nap or beg for treats, they had hopped over to Jing Yuan and tried to squeeze their little heads between his arms to poke their noses at you or sniff at your fur. 

  Not wanting to wake you, Jing Yuan had scooped them up with one hand and deposited them behind him, but they kept coming back. He frowns slightly as your large eyes blink open, awakened from your cozy nap. “Are you hiding anything under yourself?” he wonders, perhaps the cats are smelling some food from you. But no, you’re empty handed(pawed?) and confused. 

  As Jing Yuan seemed occupied dragging the cats away from you and hadn’t made his turn in several minutes, Yanqing leaned back. Looks like he’ll just have to wait until this is resolved. 

  You stand up on Jing Yuan’s thighs and shake yourself, poking your head out over his forearm to meet noses with one of the cats. Maybe they just need to say hi and they’ll leave.

  That is, until you look to the left and are met with a raised rear from the other cat right in front of your face. 

  Jing Yuan laughs at the sight of your eyes bulging in surprise and quickly snapping your head back from sniffing at the other cats. He cradles you in his arms and rubs his large hand over your tummy. “Seems like my little kitty has been presented to, have you been followed around like this recently? “ Jing Yuan smiles and pinches your paw gently. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have protected you from this terrible harassment~” 

  You wouldn’t really call it that, you thought one had just been curious, another had been trying to steal your fish—and then there was that one time a cat had tried to bite the back of your neck, but you thought he was just trying to pick a fight. 

  Maybe not actually being a cat made their intentions fly over your head. 

  Standing up and disregarding his game with Yanqing—who shot to his feet and protested—Jing Yuan carried you back inside the Sea of Divine Foresight, gently shooing the following cats out of the doorway with his foot before settling down on a soft divan by a wall. “There, now I’ve got you all to myself,” he says, scratching behind your ear to have you lean into his hand for more. You're just too cute, how can he let others fawn over you when it should be him that showers you with affection? After all, he knows you best, and he knows the best spots to scratch and comb through where you can't reach. “Even like this, you’re irresistible? Perhaps I should put a cute collar on you with my smell and name on it.”

  You sneeze as his hand brushes over your whiskers, you peer up at him—you have a feeling that he wouldn’t stop there, Jing Yuan would gift you a human sized one when you’re back to normal too! 

Dan Heng;

He doesn’t particularly like the idea of bringing you off the Express while you’re like this—mostly concerned that you’ll get lost or distracted and then get lost. What if you get hit by a car?? You don’t have any vets on the Express. 

  It’s in his nature to overthink about these things, and to be worried for your safety. You’re just… so small like this, practically without any tools to protect yourself, and cute enough that someone might try to yoink you off the street for their own. 

  Regardless, he’s been convinced to take you with him. By a combination of your big kitten eyes, and March’s attempt at mimicking it for double the effect—it was unsettling enough that it halved the progress your pleading made, but half is enough when it’s you. 

  He does however, not expect you to be bringing a hoard of other cats behind you after wandering off for a few minutes. 

  Dan Heng blinks at you as you run to him and practically throw yourself onto his pant leg, scrambling up his clothes like a squirrel fleeing from a bear, with about seven cats behind you. 

  He puts his hands under you to hold you after you make it up to his chest and nearly stumbles back as they try to rise on their hind legs to sniff at you. What the hell did you do for this to happen?? Thankfully, Dan Heng expertly navigates past the army of curious cats and escapes the situation with you in his arms. 

  Not the first and likely not the last time he has to rescue you from a situation you yourself created.

  Thankfully, you behave yourself for the remainder of the day and there’s no further incident… Dan Heng relaxes slightly—until he spots you sitting idly on a bench on the side of the streets where you, Dan Heng, March and Himeko had been looking at an expansive market. He looks away, you look rather content sitting there and observing the crowds for now. 

  When he looks back, there’s another cat there. Do you just emit “come bother me” scents for other cats? He doesn’t smell anything strange from you at all… but then again, he’s not a cat. 

  Dan Heng doesn’t get immediately alarmed… maybe it’s just a cat saying hello, that’s not very unusual for them to do… he thinks…? Ever since you turned into a cat, he’s had to confront the fact that he doesn’t, in fact, know much about cats. 

  He side-eyes the interaction for a while until Himeko asks for his attention on something, and he turns away for only a split second. When he looks towards you again after about two minutes at most… you’re loafing on the bench, and the other cat is licking and grooming your fur in spots you can’t reach properly. 

  Now, seeing two cats sitting around and grooming each other can be quite cute, he’s seen videos of it before…

  But this isn’t just some cats? One of them is his partner! He feels something prickle at the back of his mind, and though he tries to hold his instincts back whenever they rise—he purred once on accident when you were stroking his hair before bed and never let his guard down since—Dan Heng can’t help it when he turns around and crosses the street. 

  You blink up at him, half-asleep from the warmth of the market and the thorough cleaning from this very friendly cat. You hadn’t even noticed the other cat’s tail was entwined with yours. 

  Rather rudely, but not aggressively, Dan Heng pushes the other cat away from you, its body just sliding a bit to the right. He then picks you up and gives the offending cat a sharp look before turning away and taking you to the rest of the group.

  You were confined to being “bag carried” for the rest of the mission, where Dan Heng literally put you in a bag where only your head stuck up out of it, and carried you around like that. Mostly because his arms would get too tired of holding you normally, and you could snooze easily if you wanted to. 

  You open your eyes to find the familiar ceiling of the Express’ archive room, and Dan Heng setting the bag aside. You stretch, limbs reaching into the air. Dan Heng stares and a small smile lifts the corner of his lips, he takes your front paws with separate hands and holds them up where you were stretching them. “Cute… though I do prefer you as normal, I hope to hold your hands again soon.”

Aventurine;

Seeing that the progress of getting you back to normal was taking far longer than he anticipated, Aventurine made it a habit to take you along. He would often at the start leave you at home over most of the day and only bring you around if he was going to be in his office… but concerned you would either die of boredom or scratch the furniture in frustration until there was nothing left, he had you along with him.

  Aventurine works a lot—too much, you would sometimes say. If he’s not carrying out missions or doing more lengthy business with select companies or operations, he is attending meetings, answering messages or other things. 

  Mostly, he travels between indebted worlds.

  And you DESPISE the transportation method. 

  Touching down on solid ground is heavenly, you hop out of his arms and lay down flat. It’s not so bad in human form, but like this? Sucks. Terrible. You hate it. 

  Aventurine only laughs and scoops you up again. “I’ve got places to be today, how about you go explore for a while? Report to me the details when you’re done,” he jokes and rubs your cheek with his thumb, making you blink a few times as his finger comes so close to your eyes. “Just don’t go too far, hm? Meet me back here for dinner.”

  With that, he leans down and gives your furry head a good smooch and sets you down again. You shake yourself and look up at him… Aventurine stares down at you. You’re both waiting for the other to leave first.

  After a brief standstill, you’re the first to break the eye-contact and turn to trot away. New world and city to explore—and doing it from the perspective of a cat is surprisingly easy and fun, though you do sometimes get chased away by old ladies with brooms. 

  There’s a surprisingly large cat population in this city, despite the high rise buildings and gloomy scenery they also all seem well fed, perhaps it’s a very friendly place? Or perhaps they’re all house-cats having some fresh air. 

  You approach one to greet, you’ve become rather adept at recognising whether a cat is a stray or just an outside-cat. The cats of Pier Point are friendly in the upper districts, but get rather suspicious and territorial in the lower ones… which is rather understandable, you suppose.

  The cat you walk up to and greet has entirely black fur and bright yellow eyes, they almost blended into the alleyway you spotted them in but had very approachable body language, sitting and licking their paw lazily. 

  As you hop onto the dumpster they sit on, the cat looks up and walks over, poking noses with you as you sniff each other—you mostly do it for politeness’ sake, you can’t entirely discern what each scent means… you can smell it, but you don’t have the mind of a cat to understand what it’s supposed to indicate. 

  You do smell a lot of wet cat coming from this one though. No wonder it was bathing itself.

  After it got a bit too busy sniffing around your tail, it thankfully pulled back when you whacked them away… for now. After doing some more exploring, you found that more and more cats were poking their heads out to greet you—fine enough, but they kept following you around. 

  Even after meeting up with Aventurine again and meowing at him in varying tones, and him nodding along as if he could understand you perfectly… they still kept coming around. Finding a restaurant that Aventurine was satisfied with AND allowed cats isn’t easy picking, but he did eventually pick one and plop you down opposite of him on the chair. 

  Never fails to amuse him to look at you from across a dining or restaurant table where you’re poking your head above the edge of it to peer up at the plates. Aventurine leans on his palm, chin resting on it calmly as he reads from the menu. You meow repeatedly until he takes one tone as more affirmative than the others and figures that’s the dish you wanted… whether it's cat safe, well, he’ll just eat the non-safe things off your plate. You won’t complain… much. 

  While waiting for your food, Aventurine shows you something on his phone—not only is he sitting across from a cat in a restaurant as if he were on a date with it, but also showing it his phone—but you get distracted when the plates arrive. Thankfully the waiter had relayed it to the kitchen that there was an actual cat going to eat this deliciously made plate of shrimps, and it seems they either humoured him, or fully believed him.

  Either way, you have shrimp!

  While you lick at the plate and gobble down the seafood, you don’t even notice another cat hopping up into the chair next to you—not until it tries to steal some of your food. You hiss and swat at them to get them away, but it doesn’t deter them much. 

  Aventurine swallows his bite and sighs. “My date is being encroached on, you wouldn’t dare leave with another, darling?” his dramatics only makes your frustration with the other cat trying to bite at the back of your neck rise. How about he stop whining and help you?! 

  Your protesting, communicated in a series of aggrieved meows, goes unattended for a while until he hums. “I suppose I must rescue my date from this interloper,” Aventurine says. You think he’s being a bit dramatic with his wording, but once he picks up the offending cat by the scruff of his neck and shoos him away, you are relieved to be at peace with your shrimp again.

  He squats down by the chair you sit in and rubs your head, a smile touching his expression as your eyes close. “There, better? I’ll be sure to keep all these curious cats away from you.” though it was rather amusing to watch you hiss and whack away, he would rather avoid a situation where you're uncomfortable—especially in a form and state where you can hardly express that discomfort and advocate for yourself. Aventurine much rather prefers to have you for himself.

  You nuzzle your head into his palm, a small rumbling purr leaving your chest. Better. 

[shigarakislaughter]

Put Your Meowth to Mine

Chapter One

tags: cat tomura shigaraki, quirk accident, crack treated seriously, the princess and the frog but wrong

synopsis: When you see a cat getting attacked, you make it your mission to rescue and care for said cat. It turns out the cat is a bit of an asshole, and a little more human than you thought.

wc: 2.7k

warnings: language, slightly suggestive

a/n: no one say anything abt the word count. No one. Also happy valentine's day. enjoy my cringefic

Chapter Two

The cold air made you shiver as you made your way to your apartment, a gentle spray of mist falling down from the heavens in tiny droplets. It was surprisingly cold for September. A cold front must have hit Musutafu last night, one you were ignorant of due to your apparent forgetfulness when it came to checking the weather. You really should have worn a thicker jacket.

Luckily, you were close to the temperature-controlled sanctum you called your home. With only one more block to go, you relished in the idea of a nice hot shower, a comforting show on the television while eating a warm meal, and an early bedtime.

That was until you heard it: the unmistakable sound of a cat absolutely yowling its head off. Your head swiveled as you looked for the source of the sound, eyes widened when you found it. A small, scraggly looking cat had been backed into a corner by a larger blonde tabby. The poor, scrawny looking cat was clearly doing its best to look terrifying, back arched to make itself look bigger. Unfortunately, it wasn't doing a great job, its small patches of fur not thick enough to give the illusion of a bigger size.

"Hey! Leave it alone," you yelled, jogging up to the pair. You'd dealt with enough cats in your life, seen enough cat videos online, to know that breaking up a cat fight was probably a bad idea. But you felt bad for the pathetic cat in the corner, growling and hissing with all its might.

Looking around, you spotted it— a cardboard box, flattened, lying soggy next to the dumpster. Perfect. The cats didn't seem to hear you as you approached, too engrossed in their own battle to pay attention to their surroundings.

The edge of the cardboard made a crunching sound as you slammed it into the ground between the two cats.

"Go! Scram!"

You herded the blonde cat away with your foot, watching it quickly take off and run out of the ally. Your attention returned to the cornered cat. Slowly removing the cardboard, it quickly darted several meters away from you, cowering in the cold.

However, it didn't run any further, its red eyes gleaming like gems under the low glow of the streetlights. "C'mere, it's okay!" you cooed, knees soaked as you knelt down on the wet asphalt, your hand outstretched.

It eyed you warily, ears tilted forward as it slowly approached you. You kept your hand still as it sniffed your hand, determining if you were trustworthy. You must have passed its test, because it quickly rubbed its chin hard against your knuckles.

"Aww, poor baby," you murmured, scratching its chin with the pads of your fingertips. Up close, you could truly see how skinny and bare it looked. It was mostly naked. What fur it did have was light blue and incredibly wispy, seemingly concentrated around its arms and chest, trailing down to its stomach.

Poor thing would be too cold tonight if you left it to fend for itself. You knew what you had to do.

Quickly, before it could run away, you scooped up the cat with one arm under its belly, the other on its neck in preparation to scruff it if necessary. It began to writhe and wriggle in your grasp, letting out the most pathetic sounding meow you'd ever heard.

"I know, baby, I know," you whispered, walking as fast as you could without jostling the cat too much, its meows increasing in pitch as it continued to wriggle, now trying to bite at your hand.

You were lucky your building had outside stairs as you climbed them two at a time, the cat's teeth dangerously close to the back of your hand. Its meows turned into wails halfway up the stairs, continuing as you fumbled with your keys.

You managed to get the door open and closed behind you as you practically tossed the poor thing on the ground. "You turned out to be quite the little asshole," you groaned, turning to look at the cat as it stared at you. As if it could understand you, it hissed in response before looking around your apartment, sniffing as it went.

Removing your jacket, you began to mentally plan for the next steps. First, you had to give the mangy creature a flea bath, lest it was infested. After that, you could run to the local pet store for supplies. You were lucky they were open late.

You began running the water over your hand, waiting for it to come up to a comfortable temperature. After the water felt warm enough, you worked on gathering your supplies— your softest dish rag, cat-safe dish soap, and of course, the cat itself. Luckily you didn't have to do any more wrangling— the cat jumping up, a nosy thing, curious as to what you were doing.

As you once again pounced on the cat, scruffing it for the sake of bathing him, you spotted a familiar look of murder in his eyes. If it wasn't plotting your death before this, it certainly was now. Fuck.

—

Bathing the cat taught you two things. One: It was a he. Two: His claws were sharp and he would use them if necessary.

Wrapped snug in your towel, he glared at you, the wrinkles on his face emphasizing his anger, tail swishing from beneath the towel. He had clearly gotten into several fights before, old scars on both the side of his maw and over his right eye. You felt bad for him, no wonder he was acting like such a little demon.

Little demon. Lucifer.

That's what you decided to call him the second time he clawed you, a long scratch stark red against the expanse of your forearm. Luckily, it wasn't too deep.

Trying to reason with him, you began to apologize. "I'm sorry, I didn't want you bringing fleas in, Lucifer."

He meowed in response, a grating, angry sounding meow that perfectly suited him. Lucifer.

"Listen, I have to leave now. I have to get food, a litter box, cat bowls, cat scratchers," you trailed off, lowering your face to get down to his level. Removing himself from the towel, he stood, leaping off the counter to go make himself comfortable on one of the cushions by your low table. Sassy.

—

When you returned, arms laden with supplies and out of breath, you didn't expect to see him anywhere. Most cats hide when confronted with a new environment. But not him. He sat on your kitchen counter, staring into your soul with his red eyes, a screaming meow assaulting your eardrums as if he wished to say, "why'd you take so long? Did you bring me food? Hurry up and get in." He was demanding too, apparently.

"Calm down," you griped as he jumped down to follow you as you set up the litter box, jumping on the sink above you as if to supervise your actions.

As you set up everything else, scratch pad, toys, washing the cat bowls, he seemed to follow you everywhere else as well, acting as your shadow. It would've been cute if not for the fact that he was so loud. He seemed to understand that the faster you set things up, the faster he'd be fed— little bastard was hungry and demanding.

He began pawing at anything he could easily knock over as you attempted to get the can of cat food open. "Give me a second." He didn't seem to listen. A pen on your counter and a bottle cap had both managed to clatter to the floor by the time you managed to pry open the can.

The food hit the bowl with a squelch, the air filled with the smell of wet cat food. Gross to you, delicious to the cat, who scrambled to jump down and immediately start eating, a low growl coming from the back of his throat while he ate. Despite his assholery, he still managed to tug at your heartstrings. Poor thing was probably starving.

You checked the time on the microwave. Fuck, it was late. You were glad you didn't have work tomorrow. Too tired to cook, you reached into the freezer for one of the frozen meals you kept stashed, opening it and microwaving it.

After your food was sufficiently steaming, you were finally able to get back on track with your night, sitting at the low table in front of the TV. Finally, peace.

Peace had not been achieved.

Before you knew it, the cat was on the table, intent on sniffing and devouring your microwaved pasta.

The paper dish was hot in your hands as you tried to maneuver the food away from him. "Stop that, you're lactose intolerant." This didn't seem to deter him, his arm extending as he tried to dunk his paw into the dish so he could lick the sauce off.

Finally, you relented, fishing out a singular noodle from your bowl and placing it on the table. He was on it in no time, scarfing down the pasta at a record speed.

"Didn't you just eat?" He stopped licking the table to glare at you. If he could talk, you were certain he'd be telling you to shut the fuck up. Rude. Luckily for you, he decided his time was better spent shredding pieces of your junk mail with his teeth, the sound of him biting and ripping papers grating against the sound of your television. With a sigh, you resigned yourself to this, turning up the TV volume to drown out the noise caused by his destructive tendencies. At least it was the mail and not your furniture.

After cleaning up your dinner, the cat acting as your shadow the entire time, you went off to the bathroom to attempt to shower alone. Of course, he still insisted on following you inside the bathroom, batting at the door with his paws when you closed the door.

He sat proudly on your bathroom counter, tail swishing the whole time as you tried to reason with him.

"You're not going to like it in here once I start the water."

He only glared at you more. "Fine." Turning on the water, you glanced at him once more, thinking the sound would be enough to scare him. He settled into a loaf, unbothered by the sound and steam that was quickly filling up the room.

You resigned yourself to not shower alone again, ever. "You're gonna be bored out here, but alright." He seemed to snap back to life as you began to undress. His eyes were huge as saucers as the leaped off the counter, bolting through the cracked door. Huh. At least you could shower in peace.

After getting ready for bed, you found him curled up on the end of your bed. He looked up at you before leaping back down. "What, are you embarrassed?"

As you turned off the lamp, you tried to ignore him as he loafed on the dresser by your bed, staring at you with his beady red eyes that seemed to bore into you. Drifting off to sleep, the idea of him eating your face in the night chilled you to your core.

When you awoke, your chest felt… heavy, as if a dumbbell had been placed on top of it. Your eyes felt dry when you opened them to find him—across the length of your torso, Lucifer sat curled up, siphoning your warmth. He was rather cute up close, in the way one might find a possum or a rat cute.

Before he could awaken and throw a fit about it, (or scratch your eyeball out…), you pressed a chaste kiss to his little wrinkled forehead.

All of a sudden, the weight on your chest pressed against your entire front, significantly increasing in both size and mass. The face of a cat turned into the top of a head of light blue hair, matching the cat's fur. Your mouth felt dry as you tried not to scream.

Cool. Cool cool cool. The mangy cat you managed to pick up off the street was actually a man! A human man! You hoped he couldn't feel your heartbeat from where he lay on your chest, the tempo of your heart accelerating.

Lifting your head to peer at him, you saw the plain expanses of his back. Fuck, he was naked. Scrambling to cover him up with the edge of your blanket, you slid out from under him, jostling him in the process.

"What the fuck," he groaned. Shit. You woke him up. Stirring, his hand grasped the blanket that was partially covering him. You watched in abject horror as the blanket turned to dust in front of you.

Your hands flew up to cover your eyes. "Oh my god, what the fuck is going on?"

"Sorry—" The blankets shuffled as he tried to cover himself up. After a brief period consisting of him swearing under his breath, he eventually stilled. "Alright, my dick is covered now."

"Oh my god." You shoved your hands further in your eyes. "Why'd you have to say it like that?"

"What other way is there to say it?"

You looked up at him. His pinkies were raised as he gripped the edge of your sheets in an attempt to cover himself.

"Never mind, just—let me get you some clothes." You sighed, picking out an old t-shirt and pants that you thought would fit him.

"Put these on." You placed the clothes on the bed, staring at him expectantly.

"Aren't you going to turn around?"

A searing blush rose to your face as you quickly spun around. Right. Not a cat anymore. The absurdity of the situation was frying your brain, and you needed coffee. "What, is it only okay when you watch me undress as a cat?"

He spluttered. "Listen, I didn't mean to do all that, it's not like I turned into a cat on purpose. It was cat instincts or something."

You crossed your arms with a huff. "Whatever."

Turning on your heel, you left to the kitchen. The two of you could talk over coffee.

A few minutes later, he padded in after you, sitting in one of your chairs. Still clingy, even when not a cat.

Two steaming mugs of coffee in hand, you sat down at the table with him. "Explain everything."

—

It took a minor amount of coaxing, but he finally managed to tell you the story. "So you got into a fight with someone, and a random passerby thought it would be funny to turn you both into cats?"

"Exactly," Shigaraki, not Lucifer, took a long sip of his coffee, avoiding your eyes. You thought he was cute up close. Definitely a liar, definitely as scrungy as his cat form, but cute in a way that made you want to take him home and care for him.

"And you have no idea why?"

"No." His answer came out a bit too fast. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion before ultimately deciding to let it go. "Alright."

"You have a place to go after this?"

"Yeah, it's nearby," he shrugged. "I can walk."

Goodbyes were always awkward. Walking him to the door, you made him promise to stay safe, although he said it quite flippantly, still rather embarrassed.

"Wait, before you leave," Scribbling your name and number on a piece of paper, you rushed to hand it to him. "Can I see you again? Not as a cat this time?"

He seemed almost sad when he took your paper, carefully holding it between his thumb and pointer, before shoving it in the pocket of his borrowed pants. "Sure."

A few weeks later, you sat in front of the TV, watching the news. Your heart thumped, microwave pasta falling off your fork when you recognized the name and photo of the man on screen: Tomura Shigaraki, leader of the League of Villains.

Cleaning up the fallen pasta, you froze when you heard it—the scratching of several sets of paws at the door, followed by a distinct, frenzied meow.

taglist: @zephlovesspacestuf, @booksooks, @tomurafrlover23, @juni0njup1terr, @deadhands69, @mastercheetos, @kittyhyuka, @blizzardprincess, @moonstonejpg, @lysaisland

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Cat got your tongue (Percival de Rollo x Half Tabaxi!Reader)

synopsis: Percy liked to believe he wasn´t territorial or easily jealous, but something about seeing you with Vax makes his blood boil.

warnings: jealousy, marking, smut, afab reader

word count: 0.9k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall

A/N: Thank you @kawaiiangel906 for this request and I am so so sorry it took me so long to get to it. I hope you still enjoy. <3

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by @saradika

Laughter sounded over the grounds of the keep from outside all the way into Percy's workshop. Not even concealed by the sounds of the white-haired man tinkering with a weapon. It wasn't like he had much concentration left for it at the moment anyway, but what little was left of it before fled faster than it had come to him. This had been going on for far too long in his more or less humble opinion. This thing between you and Vax’ildan. Not a thing, as you had reminded him countless times, fur covered ears twitching at the idea of it alone. Worries temporarily stifled with a sweet kiss to the forehead and a deep hug. Filled with whispered confessions of love.

Grumbling under his breath Percy makes his way out of the keep.

“Percy!” You immediately jump up and run towards him, a wide grin on your face.

Percy’s eyes lay on Vax for a moment longer, who sits left behind on the grass where you had just trained with him, looking right back at the two of you. When Percy's eyes snap back to you he can see your mouth moving. Had he really not heard you talking this entire time?

“I'm sorry, my love. Could you repeat yourself?” He asks  the back of his neck.

“I just told you about my training with Vax… Are you not feeling well?” Your eyebrows draw together tightly.

“N-No, it's nothing. I am quite alright. Thank you.” Percy takes a hasty step back to avoid your hand coming up to feel his temperature. “Perhaps too much time in the workshop. I am happy that the progress you and Vax’ildan are making is to your liking.”

“Come sit with us then. We were about to be finished for the day anyway.” Your hand caresses his cheek, the other taking him to pull him along.

Night has never been particularly calm amongst the group either. Most certainly not since you had obtained the keep. Laughter and the sounds of people drinking into the early morning hours traveled easily. But this night's rest was particularly hard to come by. It could. Your bones hurt from the extensive exercise each day and the fights in between. Just not with a certain someone distracting you from the sweet release of slipping off to slumberland by needy lips grazing over the skin of your shoulder blades and teeth nipping at the column of your neck.

“Percival…” You groan. “It is late.”

The words come out mumbled and somewhat unintelligible. Still you turn your head until you can see the white head of hair from the corners of your eyes. One heavy hand finding its way into the light tresses to play with them.

“You have barely spent any time with me or anyone that isn't Vax’ildan lately.” Comes the equally mumbled response against your back.

He doesn't stop what he is doing until you are awake again and turn around fully.

“Love…” You begin a sentence but are quickly shut up by the possessive grip pulling your waist impossibly close to his.

“Shhh. This will just serve as a reminder to the others that you are mine.” Percy's teeth nip right below your jawline. Sucking on the tender flesh until deep purple bruises bloom all over.

Pressed into the mattress by his lean hips, you writhe and mewl helplessly. Subconsciously, your own hips begin to grind up against his after a while. Unable to just take it anymore.

“More.” You plead in high pitched tones. No matter how much you try, your voice just won't stay down.

“Nuh uh uh. What's the magic word, dear?” Percy reprimands you with a smile on his face.

He can feel the movement of your hips as well and it is a game to him. He is fully in charge of you and your pleasure in this moment and he knows it just as well as you do.

“Please, Percy. I need more.” You try again with your tail wrapping tightly around Percy's middle to prevent him from possibly pulling away.

“See, that wasn't so hard. When you ask nicely people will be far more inclined to give you what you are asking for.” He slides down almost unnoticeably, pushing up your nightdress, until his chin rests against your sternum, just underneath the valley of your breasts. Scattering more purple spots over them and then wandering further down. A puff of warm breath bringing your legs together around his shoulders. With a chuckle and two fingers, Percy opens them up again.

“Now, let everyone hear who you belong to.” The words echo in your ear as only moments after, his length impaled you in one rough thrust.

A groan in unison fills the room, on one side from the sudden stretch and on the other, because in response your claws shot out and dug into his shoulders. The rhythm with which he starts thrusting into you as soon as he recovers, has you near screaming. Moans of his name and desperate pleas string together to a sort of prayer. The sweetest prayer Percy had ever heard in his life. Until he has driven you over the edge so often that your throat is sore and your body is a twitching mess. Brain so clouded in fog that you can barely concentrate on anything beside his body against yours.

As you lay beside each other, entirely spent, Percy's hand trailing over your side, a satisfied purring fills the room from your lungs. Not even strong enough to keep your eyes open any longer, you are finally granted the relief of sleep. Dreaming of only one man. The one right beside you, who at that moment felt you were his completely. Pressing one last kiss against the back of your neck as he drifted off to sleep as well.

[unclewaynemunson]

After Vecna is defeated and the world goes back to normal for good, Steve thinks he can get on with his life. And for a while that's exactly what happens: his scars heal and, against everything he would have ever expected, Eddie heals right beside him.

But a year later, his life gets turned upside down in a whole new way. He gets one more hit to the head. It's a stupid accident, really, something involving a broken lightbulb, an old stepladder and an unfortunate fall. He loses pretty much all his sight. His once expressive brown eyes become hollow shells, one staring right ahead and one turned sideways, but both equally useless.

At first, the darkness is scary. It's frustrating, to be robbed of one of the few things he could always rely on. He has to get to know the world around him in a whole new way. There are days when he hates it, days when he wants to stay in bed in his room forever. There are days when he wants to scream, even days when he wants to cut his own eyes out like Victor Creel did before him.

But slowly, little by little, he learns to live with it. He grows a new appreciation for beautiful music and good food, things that stimulate his other senses that he now relies more heavily on. He develops a sharp ear for people's voices and intonations to make up for the loss of seeing their facial expressions. Where he used to love seeing Robin's bright eyes and Dustin's excited smile, he now treasures the sound of Dustin's laughter and the scent of Robin's cologne.

The one thing he will never stop missing, though, is Eddie's face. The way his eyes light up when he smiles. The way his mouth curves into that mischievous grin that Steve once fell in love with. The way his fluffy curls cascade over his back. Those are the things he misses the most.

There's a lot that makes up for that loss: he can cling to Eddie's arm whenever he wants, without having to worry about people taking their affectionate touches the wrong way. He gets to rely on Eddie's helping hand and to bask in Eddie's scent. And, most importantly: he gets to listen to Eddie's voice all the time, when he describes what's happening around them in lively phrases and with passion in his voice like the true storyteller he is.

“Do you know that there's one thing you're always leaving out when you're describing things to me?” Steve asks him one day, when he feels Eddie's hands move through the air around them during his excited monologue about the orange cat that is currently visiting their garden, chasing after butterflies and going after its own tail in the flowerbeds.

“Huh?” Eddie sounds confused.

“You're always leaving out the most important part,” Steve continues. He lifts his hand and slowly moves it to find Eddie's face. He feels his curls underneath his fingertips, then slides them further over Eddie's features.

“What do you mean, Stevie?”

“You never mention how you look. Only what you see. But if I could see, I'd be looking at you, Eddie. I'd watch your face. I can still remember that curve of your mouth, that crease between your eyebrows...” He lets his hand linger on the places he mentions. “But it's all becoming less clear. I'll never see it again. I don't wanna lose that.”

Steve feels his hand getting covered by another one, lets his fingers be guided across Eddie's cheek.

“You won't,” Eddie tells him softly. “There's no way I'll let you lose that.”

Steve can already feel the change in temperature underneath his fingers before Eddie speaks.

“I'm blushing right now, Stevie. Cause of what you said. And...” He guides Steve's hand further down over the uneven skin of his scarred cheek. “I'm smiling. Just a little bit. Not that wide smile I have when I'm messing with you, but the smaller one, the one that's just for you.”

Eddie squeezes his hand before he lets go. A moment later, his lips brush softly against Steve's, something that's not quite a kiss. Steve can feel that Eddie is about to pull back before it becomes anything more, but he presses back into Eddie's space, chases his warm lips with his own, and wraps his arms around Eddie's body to pull him closer.

Kissing is best without looking anyway.

[violentdelights-violentendss]

you couldn't keep me off for long 🤺🤺

how about the same three (dazai aku and fedya) but with a reader that runs super cold ?? i love this idea for no reason because dazai would tease, akutagawa would just be funny because haha sickly victorian children, and fedya has fuckign anemia so ofc he's cold 24/7 as well. ur writing style is also delectable i would like to eat it tysm

(me when i read ur things)

OMG I LOVE THIS! (Bro thank you sm i seriously feel like my writing style is shit but I love you…and please never fend off)

to the anon requested the bsd men and cold fic it is underway, I currently have written half of it…the ones with all BSD men take longer to write 😞😞

off I go to writing this ✨✨

BSD Men With a Reader That Runs Cold

In this post: 💃 Osamu Dazai, Ryonosuke Akutagawa, Fyodor Dostoyevsky💃

Pairing: Fem!reader/BSDMen

Synopsis: BSDMen and a gf that runs cold.

Osamu Dazai

Dazai is a man that burns with joy and passion in his everyday life. Consequently, his body temperature almost always runs high. And as the saying goes, opposites attract: you’re almost always cold, and Dazai, the man of your life, seems to have fire licking his skin constantly. He eagerly appoints himself to be your personal furnace, wrapping you in his arms when you shiver, and lending you his coat without you even having to utter a word. But his gestures come with a small price. Your boyfriend always teases you, his cat-like eyes smiling fondly as you glare at him, bundled in a mountain of covers and still needing his body heat. Dazai’s favorite joke is to propose sex as a way to warm you up. No matter how much he teases, however, he will always be ready to rescue you from the freezing cold that claws at your skin, enjoying the time he gets to spend holding you close to his heart.

You walked through the streets of Yokohama, shivering like you were experiencing your own magnitude level 5 earthquake. You were bundled up in a large coat, a scarf and gloves, even a small hat adoring your adorable face, and yet, you were still shivering so hard your teeth chattered.

Your boyfriend, Dazai, was walking leisurely in front of you, wearing only his usual trench coat, seemingly unaffected by the cold that held you tightly in its claws.

“D-Dazai!” You called, feeling as if you couldn’t take another step without shattering into a myriad of tiny ice shards.

“Yes, my belladonna?”

“M’ cold…”

Dazai sauntered over to you, leaning down to peck your nose. “Such a rare occasion, isn’t it, Bella?” He cooed mockingly, caressing your lips with his thumb.

You swatted his hand away, whining. “Stop teasing. I need solutions, not problems.”

“Okay, I have a great solution.” Dazai declared, looking in your eyes very seriously. You nodded, listening, blowing some warm air on your freezing hands, which still felt on the verge or falling off, even with your gloves on. Dazai’s hands took yours in his, warming them up with his own personal heat. “We go back there, and I fuck you so good — ”

“DAZAI!” You shouted, afraid someone could hear you. You rapidly checked around the both of you, terrified that a little kid might have been lurking in a corner. Returning to look at your boyfriend, you found him doubled over, laughing.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.” He said, a hint of laugh still dancing in his tone. “Come here,” he said, opening his trench coat. You slid inside, instantly feeling warmer. Dazai closed the coat around you, holding you tightly against him, feeling a little proud when you stopped shivering. “When we get home, l’ll make you some warm tea.” He promised, already seeing your apartment complex in the near distance.

“And then we cuddle on the couch.” You said, starting feel your ears again.

“And then we make out on the couch, yes.”

“DAZAI!”

Your joyful boyfriend started laughing, and you soon joined, your laughter intertwining into a beautiful melody, as you two walked home. Throughout the walk home, Dazai made sure you were completely covered by his coat, a perfect bundle of warmth. He promised himself he would always be there to hug you till you weren’t shivering anymore.

Ryonosuke Akutagawa

Akutagawa was a normal person, who never felt too hot or too cold. When you burst into his life, all joy and laughter, he had to get used to you, and all your wonderfully eccentric behavior. But the one thing he struggled most with, was your abnormally low body temperature. Whenever you told him you were cold, he would stare at the various layers of clothes you were wearing, as well as the winter coat you had thrown over your shoulders. Akutagawa just…couldn’t understand you. He didn’t try to be mean or anything, his mind just couldn’t make sense of it. Akutagawa soon realized that his body heat helped the perennial cold that seemingly nestled, like a frozen rose, in your heart. Whenever you would be shivering at night, Akutagawa would tentatively wrap you in his arms, and warm you with his body heat. He would crank the heat up in your apartment, despite your protests about the price (he had enough money to spend). Soon, you feeling cold became another quirky aspect of your relationship, and also gave Akutagawa the opportunity to always keep you in his arms without explicitly voicing his desire to do so, which suited your touch-starved boyfriend perfectly fine.

You were at the Port Mafia’s annual Christmas Party: an event that lasted all night long, in one of the many ballrooms owned by the criminal organization. The floors were made of polished wood, and the ceilings were decorated with wonderful paintings, and delicate flowers engraved in the dark wooden beams that supported the high ceilings. The moonlight filtered in through the mosaic windows, coloring the partygoers in different shades.

You were sitting at a table, a glass of glittering champagne in your hand. You were wearing a black slip dress Akutagawa had gifted you. It adorned your body perfectly, a slit exposing your right leg. You looked gorgeous, and Akutagawa stared at you for a good 5 minutes without being able to say anything when you had come out of the bathroom, finding you the epitome of beauty.

The night had been fun: you had successfully dragged Akutagawa to waltz with you, holding you close. You could feel Akutagawa’s heart beat against your chest, a small smile twinkling on his lips. The moment had abruptly ended when Mori had called Akutagawa to raise a toast to the Port Mafia with the rest of the high executives.

You, being a low-level Port Mafia member, had given him a kiss to send him off, and had gone back to sit at your designated table. All the dancing had made you sweat, and now the droplets were cooling on your skin, making you already colder than you always were. You had decided to sip on your champagne to warm yourself up, but your exposed arms were not helping. You had started shivering, setting the flute back down on the table, and wrapping your arms around yourself to try and create a little heat.

“Are you feeling cold, (Y/N)?” Akutagawa asked, dragging a chair to join you. You nodded, sheepishly. Akutagawa glanced at you for a few seconds, his eyes zeroing on your shivering shoulders. He exhaled, not believing he was about to do this.

Slowly, Akutagawa removed his coat, an item of clothing that was seemingly fused to his body: he rarely took it off, and only in the comfort of your home, where he knew the both of you were safe from any danger.

You watched him in utter disbelief as he draped it around your shoulders: it was the greatest act of trust Akutagawa could ever commit towards you.

Seemingly not having moved you to tears enough, he scooted closer with his chair, wrapping you in his arms and holding you tightly against him, trying to transfer some body heat.

Akutagawa was known for not liking any form of PDA. You knew. He knew. The whole Port Mafia knew, which explained the shocked glance Chuuya threw your way.

But honestly, you didn’t care, and nuzzled your face in Akutagawa’s chest, glimmering tears sliding down your cheeks and ruining your makeup: Akutagawa always found proclaiming his love to you to be extremely difficult, but clumsily, through his actions, he always found a way to tell you how much you meant to him.

Your boyfriend felt your shoulders shake, and mistook you to be still freezing. He held you even closer, until he noticed the wetness on his chest, harshly pulling you away from him to check on you. “(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” His panicked tone made you laugh through the tears.

“You’re just perfect, you know.” You whispered, bringing his hands to your mouth, leaving a red lipstick mark on his knuckles. “I couldn’t have gotten luckier.”

Now it was Akutagawa’s turn to feel his heart melt, his eyes suddenly watering. He coughed, looking away, trying to maintain his cold persona.

“Akutagawa, it’s our song!” You squealed, suddenly hearing the melody play. “Let’s go dance!” You excitedly grabbed his hand, almost dragging him to the middle of the dance floor, his coat still around your shoulders.

Akutagawa almost protested, but the smile that was engraved in your eyes the minute you started swaying in his arms was a force too strong for him to resist. You two ended the night in each others arms, singing the song’s romantic lyrics to one another, the mosaic windows coloring each part of your faces with a different color.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Listen, Fyodor is anemic, he’s always cold. Russia’s harsh winters must have infected his body, because this evil mastermind is always shivering. And when the two of you got together, and you told him you were a person that generally ran cold, Fyodor smiled, saying he was the same. The two of you share the same struggles on a daily basis, and try to rely on one another for warmth, but with little to no results. The heat in your apartment is always cranked so high that Nikolai directly comes in shorts whenever has to come over. Whenever you two sleep, you have at least 5 covers and huddle in each other’s arms. Whenever you whine that you’re cold, Fyodor does hug you, but you both know it won’t be enough, so he throws a cover on both of you, and only then can you two start to warm up. A warm tea, or a warm milk, are mandatory every night, and you have a multitude of hot water bottles stashed in the kitchen. You use one almost every night. Still, even if Fyodor knows that hugging you won’t change much, he secretly adores sleeping with you in his arms, because the love that you so clearly feel for him is enough to warms his heart.

“Fyodor, I’m still cold,” you whimpered, trying to huddle in his arms. The two of you had been cuddling in bed for thirty minutes, bundled underneath an avalanche of covers and duvets, each of you holding a warm water bottle. Fyodor was feeling…okay. Not warm, exactly but not as freezing as you were. You must have been tired: you usually felt colder when you were tired. Fyodor tried his best to rub his arms against yours, but to no avail.

“I can tell, myshka…you’re shivering,” he cooed, trying to tuck the covers around you. But nothing seemed to be working that night. Fyodor leaned back, trying to figure something out, his already fast mind moving at inhumane speed. “What if I draw us a warm bath?” He asked, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand.

Your eyes shot open, a glimmer of hope in your smile. “Yes…please,” you scooted out of his embrace, watching as your boyfriend braved the cold, sliding out of the sheets. You instantly felt colder, now that he was gone. You hugged his hot water battle as well, watching as his tall form slid inside the bathroom. You heard the water running. The harsh sound of water on marble soon changing to water sloshing on water.

You waited impatiently, jumping out of the bed when you heard his sweet voice calling you. You ran to the bathroom, trying to avoid the cold’s claws that reached for you. You almost threw yourself in the bathroom, closing the door behind you to not let the heat from the heater make its escape.

Fyodor looked at you lovingly, helping you slide your clothes off. You didn’t wait for Fyodor, almost throwing yourself inside the large bathtub. You instantly felt the cold hidden in your limbs wither and die, finally feeling at peace. The water sloshed around you as Fyodor joined you in the tub, his pale skin almost taking a pearl-like shade in the dim lights.

You happily swam towards him, falling into his arms. Fyodor welcomed you with a small smile, glad to see your cheeks flushed with heat for once. “We should do this more often,” you thought out loud, playing with your boyfriend’s hands.

“Noted, milaya.” He purred, feeling a drowsy sense of relaxation spreading throughout his body. “This sure is peaceful,” he murmured, sinking further in the bathtub, eyeing your naked body underneath the trembling surface of the water.

“Stop,” you laughed, noticing his gaze, swimming away from him and flicking some water in his face with your foot. Fyodor moved uncharacteristically face, grabbing your ankle and tugging you toward him, and pressing a kiss to your soft skin. You giggled shyly, hiding underneath the water.

Fyodor dunked his head underneath the water, meeting your eyes. You smiled at him, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, dragging you against him. He pulled both of you out of the water, watching as it cascade down both of your bodies. You laughed merrily; Fyodor laid his head on your chest, closing his eyes and humming quietly. You caressed his head, diving back in the water when you felt a sudden chill caress your spine.

You kissed Fyodor lazily, watching with half-lidded eyes as he opened the tap to let more scalding water fill the tub around you.

You two cuddled in the warm water for hours, sometimes kissing, sometimes just laying in each others arms.

You were falling in and out of consciousness, and barely noticed Fyodor lifting you out of the now lukewarm water, drying you and slipping your pjs on you. He then carried you to bed, tucking the both of you in, carefully. You snuggled against his chest, and peacefully fell asleep, finally warm, Fyodor’s hand held tightly in yours.

[aquarelliwrites]

Reading Date

SHIP: Oscar Piastri x Reader BLURB: A miserably cold day during winter break gives Oscar the opportunity to have a closer look at one of your hobbies. CONTENT WARNINGS: passing mention of alcohol, fluff, you/yours pronouns with no specified gender, no use of Y/N

1.8k

Weak white daylight streamed in through the gauzy curtains of your sitting room - first illuminating dust particles caught floating in its path, then reaching you on the sofa. The sage green record player played its honeyed vintage notes at a leisurely pace, the soft tones of a melody on piano only there for you to hear.

By all means, you were happy with this. The radiator right under the window kept the sitting room at a relatively normal temperature considering the miserable January weather outside, and you buried yourself in blankets in addition - if someone were to ask, you'd have to guess some number between 3 and 5, all covering different parts of you.

The collection of essays you'd been dragging yourself through reading was finally finished, which made you more than happy to pull one of your 'rainy day' books off the shelf and decide if it was a worthy successor to the last novel you'd read. The essays were incredibly interesting and provided a fresh view of the world, sure, but sometimes all you really needed was a good piece of fiction to sink your teeth into. Your boyfriend sometimes teased you about the number of books you bought and never read, but your argument was sound: you often needed the story to find you at the right time to enjoy it fully.

Speak of the devil - a door down the hallway creaked open and closed faintly, and you hear Oscar's soft footsteps on the hardwood shortly before he speaks up.

"Good morning." He really was the embodiment of a polite cat right then and there - cozy clothes, tired smile, a voice still scratchy from sleep.

"Good morning, darling," you smiled back. His hands held the back of the couch behind you, and you observed the way they supported his weight before craning your neck upwards to see him looking at you upside-down. "How'd you sleep? Sorry if the music woke you up."

"Oh, no, don't worry about that." He rested his entire forearm on the backrest now, laying his head in a way where it was right next to yours. You swore you got goosebumps from the way his morning voice spoken right next to your ear scratched your brain just right. "I couldn't even hear it in the hallway. I slept fine. Take it you did too?"

You nodded, sitting up slightly and reaching for his cheek to press a soft kiss on his lips. He let out a satisfied hum, reaching up to tangle his hand in your hair. You weren't a new couple by any means, having not been in your 'honeymoon lovebirds' phase for at least a year or two by now; still, you loved that every kiss and small gesture you exchanged still made you feel as warm and bright as the day you met.

"How does coffee sound?" He asked when he pulled away, his hand traveling from your hair to cradle your face. Tiny sparks lit a fire under where his thumb ran over the apple of your cheek, and you briefly shut your eyes to savor the moment.

"Coffee sounds great, Osc,” you spoke, and after his pointed pause chuckled, “please and thank you."

His laugh is in harmony with the song on the vinyl - although maybe you’re just young and in love and so it seems that way. The sound of him grinding coffee beans for you both sort of fades into the background, so you don’t really notice he’s back until a latte’s placed on the side table next to you. In the rich foam, the figure of a lopsided heart catches your attention.

“You did latte art for me,” you gush, a grin seemingly stuck on your face as he sets his mug down by the other end of the sofa. It’s nearly surreal: the athlete behind the visor is curling up on the couch with you now, sipping a latte from a matching mug and choosing a Netflix show. Lifting the needle and turning off the turntable, you watch the vinyl come to a slow stop before putting it away with care.

You’re left sitting in a comfortable silence after that, with background noise of muffled dialogue and the occasional flipping of a page. He did manage to end up with his legs completely in your space under the blankets, though. Not that you minded.

“You don’t have anything planned for today, right?” Is it shitty if he secretly really, really hoped you would say no?

"No.” He breathed a silent sigh of relief, and you smiled at his antics. “I was thinking about maybe, possibly taking a walk later, but…" you looked out of the window. The street outside was empty and foggy, and the overcast sky enveloped everything like the world’s most depressing duvet. “I’d have to bundle up, and I’m just not feeling it right now.”

"We could have a day in. Just the two of us."

"That sounds lovely, Osc." And with that, you were back to silence, each of you cozy in your own little bubble.

Oscar did end up having to get up later on your behalf to bring you a snack, but he lingered by the bookshelf for a strangely long time on his way back.

"What's up?" You glanced over to see him craning his head sideways and examining the titles.

"I kind of want to read with you. Just… not sure what." It’s cute how focused he was - his brows furrowed adorably and he chewed his lower lip a little. He didn’t even know how attractive you found him like that.

"I thought you weren't a book person."

"You seem like you enjoy it." He shrugged. "Any recommendations?"

It was a couple of beats of collective pondering of the titles before you clicked your tongue and pointed to the middle rack. "Uh, fifth from the left, white spine with blue letters."

He followed your instructions, but playfully rolled his eyes at the title. "'Normal People'? Is this supposed to mean something?"

"It's not a jab at you, it's just a pretty good character study that reads fairly easily." You sounded a little defensive, so he lifted his hands up in mock surrender before collapsing back on the sofa and curling up. He didn’t miss the opportunity to steal one of your blankets then, laughing at the death glare you sent him.

You waited for him to settle before scooting yourself and the blanket nest over, resting under his left arm. A satisfied sigh left you at the sensation of immense warmth and comfort you found and let him know you don’t plan to move away anytime soon.

Not that he really minded.

“Who has to cook?” He asked you around midday, both of you already deeply invested in your reading.

You hummed indecisively. “I'll rock-paper-scissors you for it?”

Oscar agreed, and you both cupped your fists in your left hands.

"Best of three," he added after losing the first round. You're unsurprised he lost overall - he always chose scissors first.

“Best of five?” He suggested.

“Get to it, pastry boy. Chop chop.”

He sighed dramatically, like the weight of the world sat upon his shoulders, and stood up suddenly, leaving you to fall into a fit of giggles - now in a fully lying position.

Eventually, you poured yourself a drink from the fridge and sat yourself all pretty on the kitchen island. He hummed along to some song from his Spotify, and you took a moment to really admire him. Even in a hoodie and sweatpants, his hair still fell in that graceful swoop across his forehead; the way you can see his forearms flex with how he rolled up his sleeves made your thoughts race.

You did also catch yourself staring at his ass. It was unavoidable.

“They should call you Oscar Pi-ass-tri, goddamn.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder and cocked his hip with a sly smile. “Did you put any alcohol in there, baby?”

“You know I'm just naturally like this.”

“I do.” 

"You know," you took a sip after an extended silence, "the sluttiest thing a man can do is know how to cook delicious meals."

He was quiet for a moment, stirring a pot on the stove, before he shrugged with a small smile tugging upwards at the corners of his lips. "'Guess I'm a filthy whore of a man then."

You both paused, again, and he looked up at you from the pasta sauce he was making. You could have heard a pin drop, then.

In the moment after, you were both roaring with laughter - he was almost on his knees on the floor while your knuckles were white with how hard you were gripping the countertop not to fall off.

You barely wheezed out, "That's your new name in my phone," before Oscar was practically folded over again and you were struggling to catch your breath.

The pasta ended up tasting divine, and you were both full before you knew it. The couch welcomed you back after lunch, the TV just on as background noise to avoid the afternoon drowsiness.

"You were right, you know," he said while marking his place - over your dead body would you let him dog-ear the page - "it is a good character study. I wish they'd just, well, you know. Talk about their problems."

"It's a little frustrating, yeah,” you mumbled. He was so indescribably warm and comfortable and you really couldn’t make yourself move to look at him from where you were still lying under his arm and several blankets. A certain comfort settled deep into your bones, and you felt as heavy as lead. "It ends well, I promise."

"It better." He grumbled, and you responded with a huffy giggle.

While he had a late lie-in, you had been up for a while already by that point. After a few too-long moments of silence, he lifted his elbow and noticed you dozed off completely. Your weight was comfortable on him, and the story was interesting, so he put yours away on the coffee table and decided he could waste the afternoon just like this.

Ultimately, you stirred a couple of times throughout the few hours you were out - never truly waking up, except to pull yourself closer to him. He was more than halfway through the little paperback you assigned him and, surprisingly, he was actually enjoying himself. Maybe it was just because he got to participate in a hobby you like as well. Or maybe he enjoyed the closeness and intimacy of getting to read your little pencil notes in the margins; enjoyed the soothing rhythm of your chest rising and falling; enjoyed the small pleasures of ‘normal people’ things.

It was such a perfect moment that, for an instant, he felt like he could spend every single one of the rest of his days like this.

Note: I'm not as happy with this as I was with the Max fic (and I'm upset with myself for not posting it when I said I would?? alas we live) but Oscar is one of my favorite drivers and I hope I did him justice lol

Liked this? Check out my masterlist!

[graymatters]

It came easy, darlin

I am obsessed with To Someone From a Warm Climate by Hozier, one of the most beautiful songs I have ever heard. Draco and Harry have been rattling about in my head with it for months, and it can't possibly do the song justice, but I just had to write these soft boys under covers in the winter.

Harry hears Draco come in before he sees him, the floorboards creaking despite his slow and careful steps. In the cool darkness, Harry watches as Draco tiptoes across their bedroom, quietly shedding his cloak and jacket. It’s late, later than Harry expected him; Draco usually slips in unnoticed after his shifts at St. Mungo’s. But this time, the hinges of the closet door whine when he pulls it open, drawn out by his slow pace, and the hangers ring like a wind chime when he hangs up his clothes. Harry can only chuckle from his spot beneath the covers as Draco sighs a very long and exasperated breath.

“You tried,” Harry says, pulling the blankets down next to him and patting the empty spot on the bed.

“I tried,” Draco agrees as he removes his sea green robes, until he’s standing bare in just a pair of boxers, covered in Golden Snitches (Harry’s boxers, Harry notes. He doesn’t fail to notice the way they fall loose around his hips, the sharpness of his hip bones on full display. Harry’s eyes trail higher, admiring the expanse of pale skin over Draco’s chest, the shape of his arms, the slope of his throat—). 

“Harry, are you listening?”

“No, not at all.”

Draco shakes his head, resting a knee on the edge of the bed. The mattress sinks under his weight, and Harry’s body shifts towards him, not unlike it often does when he’s around Draco, stuck in his orbit.

“I said work was atrocious. And it’s freezing outside,” Draco says with a very explicit and purposeful pout. Christ, Harry loves this man, with his mean eyebrows and his knobby knees and his smart mouth.

Harry reaches for him. “Come here, then. Let me help.”

Draco takes Harry’s hand, slipping into bed beside him. And it happens easy, the way their foreheads come to touch, how their hands wander over familiar breadths of bare skin, the gentle shift of Draco’s leg slotting neatly between Harry’s. Like a cat seeking warmth from a sunny spot on the floor, Draco curls into Harry, soaking up every ounce of Harry’s heat. Harry gives it, would happily give it all, to hear another of Draco’s contented sighs.

“How’s your hip?” Harry asks, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb over the icy skin of Draco’s thigh. Cold temperatures remind them of their age, these days.

“Sore,” Draco answers. His fingers press into Harry’s shoulder, flexing as Harry grazes over tender muscle. “Heat would help.” 

Harry recognizes the unspoken request, giving Draco a chaste kiss in agreement as he closes his eyes. Magic always feels more natural with Draco—easy and willing to spill over from his fingertips with only a thought. He daydreams of their trip to Sardinia last summer, days spent sprawled together on the beach, the sun’s warm rays freckling Draco’s shoulders. He’d kissed every one of them, a hundred times over, before they’d disappeared in the autumn haze. For a moment, they’re on that white sand heat spreading beneath them, until Harry opens his eyes to find Draco, sated and starry eyed as he blows a lock of icy grey hair from his forehead.

Draco hums. “Thank you, darling.”

Sometimes, Harry forgets how hard it was to get to this place, to this moment in their bed. But it’s these moments, with their tangled limbs and mingled breath, that make it easy to choose each other, day after day and year after year. 

A gust of wind shakes the tree branches that hang over the house. An icy rain prattles at the windows. The radiator creaks from its spot in the corner. Harry pays them no mind as he lays his head on Draco’s chest, lulled to sleep by the graze of Draco’s fingertips at his scalp and the rhythm of Draco’s heartbeat in his ear.

[temis-de-leon]

Day 17 - Jealous kiss

Characters: Solomon x gn!MC

25 kisses challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

CW: none, just fluff. Developing relationship.

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Getting used to only seeing the moon, especially an unfamiliar one, was something that took more of MC’s time than they would like to admit. The darkness, loosing track of time and the drop in temperature were one thing, but it was the lack of vitamin D what proved to be a significant problem. Their body weakened and their mood plummeted to the point where even Lucifer panicked.

Fortunately for all of them, the solution was as simple as adding certain foods to their diet, mainly fish, and of course the brothers bought enough to feed an entire army. In the end, however, MC grew sick of it and resorted to consuming vitamin D supplement pills.

Then they had the dilemma of finishing the whole stack of seafood that filled the entire kitchen, including the fridge, the freezer and the cabinets. Not even Beel could force himself to gulp it down and soon Satan had the genius idea of feeding it to the stray cats.

They would get rid of the awful smell that roamed the house and other cats would visit in hopes of getting more gourmet treats, because where else would they find salmon or trout? At first, obviously, Lucifer refused in fear of any animal creeping inside the house while no one was looking, but once Asmo begged for the damn dead fish to get out, no one dared to complain.

So that’s where they were, the Avatar of Wrath almost crying in happiness while cats climbed all over his body, his younger brother beside him taking selfies with the cutest kittens and MC in a more secluded space giving all of their attention to a particular cat. It had greyish blue eyes and striking long white fur, stained with dirt, but beautiful nonetheless.

A certain sorcerer with similar features stared at them while they cooed at the cat, kissing its nose, scratching its ears and massaging its little paws.

“If I didn’t know you any better”, MC said with uncharacteristic pompousness “I’d think you were jealous”

“Me? Jealous?”

Solomon’s expression was mischievous, but a glint in his eyes betrayed him. He was definitely jealous.

“You must be imagining things, my dear MC”

The term of endearment made their heart flutter, still vulnerable to his teasing even after weeks of endless flirting. Those who weren’t close to them already thought they were dating and after the kiss they’d shared a few days ago during RAD’s latest festival, they might as well be.

It had been a nervous gesture, too short for both of their likings, but MC hadn’t stopped thinking about it. The taste of soda on both of their lips, his hands on their waist, gently keeping them close.

The memory made them feel like a love-struck schoolgirl.

“From the way I see it, you’re simply being too selfish with your affections”

They turned to the side to look at him with an incredulous smile, hugging the cat close to their chest and rubbing its belly. Solomon’s eyebrow twitched at the sight.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Isn’t it clear?”

“Enlighten me”

Solomon opened his mouth to speak, but his words got stuck in his throat when MC shimmied their way to his body, resting impossibly close to him and letting the cat smell his RAD uniform. He smiled with genuine care and scratched its chin, once again unknowingly increasing MC’s heartbeat.

“Look at him, how handsome he is” murmured MC, their head oriented towards the cat, but their eyes directly looking at the blushing sorcerer “His white hair, his grey eyes… I could kiss him over and over and over again…”

And so they did, hoisting it until their heads were at the same height and enthusiastically pressing loud kisses on the fur. It smelled bad, but they did it anyways.

“Are you being mean on purpose?”

MC laughed at his childish complaint, trying not to make too much fun of his pout and his crossed arms. He only looked at them again when they finally let the cat go and threw themselves at him, making Solomon gasp in surprise.

“You’re funny”

The whisper clashed against his lips and became inaudible to everyone but them.

This kiss was even shorter than the one they shared at the festival, but it eased Solomon’s frown and it made his small smile reappear. He hugged their waist before they could get too far and deepened the kiss, not letting them go until a delighted screech reached their ears.

By the time they turned around, Asmodeus had already taken a picture.

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Taglist: @ourfinalisation  @owlisbuffering  @chizukimp4  @ravenredwine @darkflowerav  @craftysclown   @mehkers

[bunniekittiee]

how about for Bi-Han. He gifts his new bride a super fluffy and warm coat. I think this can be so sweet because not only he is doing to make sure she is warm and comfortable in his home in Artika, but also because that way they can take walks or sit in the gardens together to be cute and lovey.

Oh my goodness anon, you are fr a genius! I love this suggestion, I tried to make this as sweet as possible.

Bi-Han x Fem. Reader

Bi-Han was very used to the icy tundra he called home. His father made him train in the cold at a young age so his body could adjust to it. Now, the cold did not ache his bones or hurt his skin. He was used to it, and he did not realize at first that Y/N, his new bride, were not adjusted. Bi-Han had to marry her, in exchange for power over the clan she came from, in order to produce an heir one day. His clansmen continued to pester him about marrying, so he did in order to get them off his back. He was standoffish. He knew they both were tied together for the rest of their lives, but it was only for power. There was no love in between them. Or, at least, that is what Bi-Han tried to convince himself of.

Her loving gaze penetrated his encased heart, and he could not resist the looks she would give him. It was as if she loved him very much, but Bi-Han knew the whole point of their marriage was to get his clansmen to shut their mouths. At least on his part, that was.

That is what Bi-Han tried to convince himself of. But many aspects of this changed when she snuggled towards him during the nights, or how she would take his hand to ground himself back into the world. Bi-Han saw how she treated his brothers and it warmed his heart. He saw how much she and Kuai Liang were alike with their sweet nature and attitude. Or how her and Tomas still had a childish tinge to them when they went out together while Bi-Han was working.

Oh, he tried to convince himself it was nothing more. That he was just feeling lonely. That she was just his wife by marriage, and nothing more.

That was, until it was Bi-Han’s birthday. The Lin Kuei were never ones to celebrate birthdays. In fact, it was frowned upon. Foolish. So Bi-Han had never celebrated his birthday, nor his brothers. He treated it like a normal day.

But she, she did not. She remembered. Bi-Han hardly recalled even telling her his birthday. But when he came home that night, she had helped prepare his birthday dinner. She had ordered the cooks to make Bi-Han a dinner feast for his birthday of what meals he had as favorites. He was taken aback, maybe even a little proud of the fact that she remembered. He was never expecting this or even the phrase to slip past her lips, but her ‘happy birthday’ rang in his ears while she and his brothers sang to him quietly.

This solidified something in Bi-Han. That he, the Lin Kuei’s Grandmaster, had fallen in love with this foolish girl. But she was his foolish girl.

No details ever got past Bi-Han. He studied her like a cat and its prey. Noticing how she avoided going outside, Bi-Han analyzed her. Her shivers, the way she rubbed her skin to create warmth, how she curled into piles of blankets, how when Kuai Liang was in the room, she seemed to stop these behaviors and embrace his warmth.

It all became clear to him that he was blind. She was not adjusted to the cold like he was. She never had to sit out there in the cold like his father made him or train in freezing temperatures. She was delicate, untouched by such hardships in that nature. He never noticed this before and he internally fought with himself. Why would he be so blind to this?

He wanted to do something, he wanted to help her with the cold. So he decided for a few hours, he would put his duties to the side and visit someone in the village. But, he could not go alone. So he took his brothers.

“My, brother! For someone who was so adamant that he did not romantically love his wife, you are certainly proving yourself wrong.” Kuai Liang said with humor laced in his tone.

“Silence.” Bi-Han grumbled as they walked through the village. “I do not want to see her cold and suffering.”

Tomas could not help but smile under his mask. Bi-Han was learning how to live with and love another person. In his own ways. It made him happy to see his brother learning something new that he hardly had any experience in. The positive aspect was that he was learning.

They arrived at the seamstress where they had their own uniforms tailored and fixed. The Lin Kuei did not necessarily have a tailor as they could not train one themselves. Many were old, the Arctika would eat away at their bones. And most did not want to live in there, they had their own families to go home to.

“My lovelies.” cooed a gentle voice. She was an older woman, one that Bi-Han remembers his father coming to when he was a young boy. “What brings you in here today?”

Kuai Liang and Tomas said their greetings and stepped back to let Bi-Han take the stage. “Good afternoon. My wife needs a winter coat. A really warm one, for that matter.” He said stiffly. He was never the best at interacting with outsiders.

She hummed as she searched her drawers. “I believe I have her measurements in here somewhere. I am surprised the Grandmaster himself came to ask me. I thought you would send a solider.”

He scoffed. “They are incompetent. It is better if I make the important errands.”

Finding what she needed, she brought out Y/N’s measurements. “Winter coat you say? Extra fur lining in the sleeves and the bodice?”

“Yes.”

“Perhaps extra fur in every part of it.” She said as she began to draw out what she was going to make. “What colors?”

“Blue and black.”

She chuckled. “Even your wife cannot escape the Lin Kuei colors.” The seamstress focused on her quick drawing as Kuai Liang and Tomas waited patiently. Bi-Han watched like a hawk as her hand moved diligently across the paper. “Grandmaster, this is what the end piece will look like.”

Showing him, he looked at it more and nodded. “Yes, that is what I want.”

Nodding her head back, she set it down onto her table. “It will be a little expensive, Grandmaster.”

He internally rolled his eyes. “Nothing I cannot afford. I will pay now. I need this coat as soon as possible.”

Paying her and saying their goodbyes, their quick trip had only lasted forty minutes. Although Bi-Han could have been working in those forty minutes, he was glad that he did this instead. He was looking forward to his wife’s reaction to her coat. Once reaching their home, the brothers went their separate ways to tend to their orders.

Two days later, Bi-Han and his brothers made their way back to the village to retrieve the coat. She was a fast working seamstress, and Bi-Han was relieved she finished it so soon.

“This is the final product.” She said as she held the coat up. “Are there any additions you want to add to this piece?”

Bi-Han shook his head. Her work was beautiful. The coat itself was a dark, rich blue. Matching his own uniform. The black accented it. The fur looked so soft to touch. Tomas almost wanted one for himself.

She wrapped it in parchment paper and put it into a box, sending them on their back, smiling at the love-stricken Bi-Han. He debated on when he should give it to her.

“Brother, if i may say,” Tomas said as they walked back. Bi-Han murmured a ‘yes’ in response. “I believe you should take the rest of the day off. Spend time with her since she will be able to go outside without feeling freezing.”

Bi-Han sharply sighed. “I cannot take the entire day to spend it with her. I am busy with my duties, as you are too.”

Kuai Liang shook his head. “Brother, we will take over your duties. It is not like you do this everyday.”

“I can spend another day with her.”

“But brother, you have hardly spent time with her since you married. You are in love with her no matter how much you say you are not.”

He felt his chest tighten at Kuai’s words. Was it so obvious? As much as Bi-Han knew he had to work, he could hardly get her out of his mind. To see her reaction to her new coat, to hold her, to touch her, to spend time with her. It was an internal debate.

“Brother?” Tomas asked a little worriedly.

Bi-Han sighed again. “Fine, I will spend the day with her. But I cannot do this often.” They smiled, grateful that their brother was finally learning to make time. Even though he only did it because they put pressure on him. It was a step into the right direction.

Arriving back at home, the brothers went their separate ways once more. Bi-Han trudged to his home, a little eager to give his wife her present. He had never felt this way before. He felt almost stupid.

She sat in one of the chairs in the entertainment room as she read a book quietly. Her hair had fallen into her face a little bit, and it squeezed Bi-Han’s heart. She was beautiful.

“My love,” he said to her, these words feeling foreign in his mouth. She looked up at him, a small smile on her lips. “Yes, Grandmaster?”

He walked closer to her and held out the box. “This is for you.”

She took the box from his hands gently and looked a little confused. Bi-Han felt himself have a twinge of nervousness licking away at the pit of his stomach. Untying the ribbons, she slid the top of the box off and took out the coat, unwrapping the parchment paper as well. Her eyes widened at the thick, fluffy coat that was sitting on her lap. “Bi-Han…”

“I noticed how cold you have been. I am sorry for not paying attention sooner.” He said, feeling a little ashamed that his wife had to go this long without feeling warm.

“Bi-Han, it is gorgeous.” She said breathlessly as she held it up. “Thank you so much, Bi-Han. This is… really special.” She stood up and slipped the coat onto her body. Bi-Han’s heart began to race as his eyes scanned over her body. The coat fit her snuggly and she looked stunning.

“You are beautiful.” He rasped.

She blushed. “Thank you, my beloved.”

He felt himself start to blush at her sweet nicknames but fought it back. “Take a walk with me?”

Quickly walking to his side, they both began to take a stroll into the garden. Although they were surrounded by snow and ice, the flowers were ever so vibrant. Their beauty did not falter in the cold temperatures, just like Bi-Han’s flower did neither. She looked so pretty in the snow and in her coat, he felt himself start to think about a million things all at once. That was unlike the Grandmaster. The stoic, hardened heart Grandmaster was now thinking about romantic gestures and how to express it to his wife.

He grasped her hand into his when he knew they were not around his soldiers. She held his back, smiling at him shyly. He felt a small smile rise to his lips. She made him feel so loving and warm. But it was sickening. He was never used to this.

“Your coat suits you.” He said as they sat down on a bench together in the garden.

“Thank you, Bi-Han. It means a lot to me. It is really warm.” She said while snuggling into it. He wished she would snuggle into him.

They sat in silence as they admired the bright colors of the flowers against the white snow. She broke their silence. “I know that our marriage was more so a deal, but I cannot help but love you, Bi-Han.”

His chest tightened once more. “I cannot help but love you as well.”

She smiled at him. “I am happy to hear that, my beloved.”

Bi-Han had the overwhelming urge to kiss her. His brown eyes averted from her eyes to her lips and back to her eyes. The only time they had really kissed was on their wedding day, but he never thought he would crave her kisses. Caressing her face, he pulled her in for a gentle kiss.

A little surprised, she kissed him back. All that surrounded them were the beautiful flowers and silence. When they pulled away, Bi-Han rested his forehead against hers.

“I love you, my dearest.”

“I love you more, Bi-Han.”

Embracing her, he pulled her closer to his body as they looked back at the flowers. He was a little stiff due to how new it was to him, but he felt himself start to relax. She rested her head on his chest, sighing in peace.

Bi-Han had never thought he could love another person romantically with his lifestyle. He always thought that he could not bring love into his life, yet here he was. He adored his wife, feeling tenderness for her as their time together increased. His frozen heart began to thaw out. Kuai Liang and Tomas noticed his new behavior and how his moods were starting to change. He made more time throughout the week to spend time with his loveliness. Whether it was for an hour or a few minutes, his brothers saw how much she could change his mood and his behavior. He wasn’t softening up, but he was a little less aggressive.

Bi-Han always made sure to take walks with her or sit in their gardens. Their time together was precious, and as much as he wanted to spend every moment with her, he knew with his duties he could not. So this would have to suffice. And she still wore that coat he gifted her at every walk they would take. It made him proud. Proud to know that he was loved and cared for by someone other than his brothers, and who he felt the same for.

The Grandmaster was never one for love, but he now understood how important it was to have it in life. It was an intimate ordeal. Something that could never be replicated over and over.

[silverflqmes]

Okay hear me out, may I request Cloud x reader fluff where we spend lovely spring morning together? Nothing nsfw just pure comfort, our cat laying in bed with us, laziness at it finest.

Off the topic I really adore your work! I'm quite new to ffvii, basically I've just started playing, but your work made me fall head over heels for Cloud haha. Anyway have a good day!

໒⦂ 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐖.

notes. hello! thank you so much for the request and the kind words akajsks i’m still fairly new to ff7 myself, but i’m glad to have amplified your love for it and cloud<3 the cat saga continues✨ i did something experimental here so it’s a little shorter, but i hope it’s okay :’)

genre. fluff + comfort

disclaimer. before any confusion arises.. sora is the name of your cat, who was first mentioned in this post if you are eager to see more of her!

cloud strife x gn!reader.

sora’s purring joins the gentle whistle sung by the breeze that swept through the bedroom window, chiffon curtains dancing to the soft tune like delicate petals.

cloud couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a taste of spring weather — of bitter cold melting into tender warmth.

the change of seasons was hardly ever noticeable without trees to flourish the busy streets with life, lakes to freeze over at the gradual drop of temperature, and flowers to splash the otherwise monochrome edge with color in the spring.

perhaps, it made the planet worth saving after all. to have been rewarded for his efforts at the very end with the beauty of the world, along with his beloved partner.. and a feline friend.

your chest rose and fell with breath, quietly, but surely, eyes fluttered shut. an unspoken trust, which your boyfriend treasured more than he could verbally express.

it was too early to even be up right now for most people.. but cloud, unfortunately, had to represent his little company as its only delivery guy and employee within the next two hours.

he fought back an annoyed sigh at the mental reminder of it.. only to remember that you had still been fast asleep.

any indicative sound that threatened to portray his irritation and spill from his lips all but melted away, falling completely silent on his tongue. because how could he possibly ruin the serene image of you all bundled up and cozy.

the exasperated exhale died all together in the stream of his windpipe as his features relaxed once more in repose.

normally he preferred taking up long distant deliveries by himself, but on this particular occasion, the client happened to live in your seaside hometown — costa del sol. a place that was untouched by the unpleasant smog of edge, and instead painted in a kaleidoscope of vibrant coats.. rather than a trillion shades of gray.

a shift in movement made his mako tinted sapphires flash just briefly before sliding to your stirring form.

his ears caught a jumbled, almost incoherent murmur ( were it not for his amplified hearing ) and cloud wondered to himself for a moment what dreams had joined you in your slumber. something lovely, he hoped, a gentle caress to your conscience.. and not the nightmares that haunted him until dawn on some evenings.

moonless nights when cloud thought too hard for comfort, let alone decent rest.

although, those had been few now. infrequent, thankfully, all because of your solace-filled presence — pressed into his chest.. and the light nuzzling of your calico kitty tucked into his side.

a silent, meow-less request for breakfast.. or maybe not. maybe it was just to ask cloud to stay a little while longer, and enjoy that which he could not back in edge.

waking up to unsullied air- a mixture of floral aromas and the soft, but welcome dripping of morning dew traveling from petal to petal, was.. sadly a rarity, the former infantryman realized.

which is why he found himself sinking into the pillows and duvets in submission, allowing darkness to greet his eyes for another round of sleep. two hours were more than enough to get dressed and to his destination. so truly, all he needed was thirty minutes to be dressed and out of your childhood home.

the hour and a half remaining could blissfully go to cuddling you a little while longer, all else drowning into background noise as he would slip further and further, deeper and deeper. surrendering himself completely to your warm company, the serendipitous quiet, and spring morn.

notes. okay this is way shorter than what i normally write, but i hope it’s still good😭 not much dialogue, just cloud being soft and at ease for a change ahaha

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[isacksteban]

yeah i’ll take a fuckin uhhhhhh

catboy lance and fernando. whatever you want with them gimme kitty cat

800 followers celebration

i'm not exactly sure what this is 😭😭 theyre ex bfs and its kinda angsty but.. kitty lance!!

It was supposed to be just another race weekend. Absurdly hot, sure, but Lance had driven in worse. He knew how to deal with the blistering temperatures, how to keep his focus sharp even as the sun bore down on the circuit. He’d done it countless times before. Yet, for reasons he couldn’t explain, this weekend had started differently. When he woke up that morning, drenched in sweat and burning up, he chalked it up to the heat. Maybe dehydration. Maybe overexertion.

But the fever wasn’t the end of it. The moment he sat up in bed, disoriented and groggy, he noticed something… wrong. At first, he thought he was hallucinating. His ears felt off, overly sensitive to even the faintest sounds. And then there was the movement—an alien sensation against the mattress. He turned, horrified, to see the slim, swishing tail now attached to him.

Lance had never been one for dramatics, but that morning, he came close to losing it. He paced his hotel room, frantic, running through every logical explanation he could muster. None of them fit. By the time Fernando came knocking, curious about why Lance hadn’t shown up for the team briefing, Lance was a mess. He tried to play it cool at first, yelling through the door that he wasn’t feeling well, but Fernando wasn’t the type to leave things alone.

“You’re not skipping out on today,” Fernando’s voice called through the door. “Open up.”

Reluctantly — after a heated back-and-forth and a round of interrogation that left him with no excuses left — Lance gave in. He unlocked the door and stepped back, bracing himself for whatever reaction Fernando might have.

Fernando froze in the doorway, his eyes narrowing as they swept over Lance. For a moment, there was nothing but stunned silence. Then, slowly, a smirk curled at the corner of his lips.

Lance wasn’t sure what unsettled him more — the fact that he now had a tail or that Fernando wasn’t freaking out. The older driver was taking it all far too well, leaning back with his arms crossed, that infuriating smirk never leaving his face. For someone who was supposed to be a rival, a constant thorn in his side since their less than amicable breakup when Fernando left the sport, Fernando looked a little too comfortable standing in his hotel room, watching Lance like he was some kind of amusing curiosity.

“Well?” Fernando prompted after a moment, raising an eyebrow. “You going to explain this, or are we just going to stand here pretending this is normal?”

Lance scowled. “Like I know what’s going on,” he snapped, his voice sharper than he intended. The irritation was easier to cling to than the panic bubbling beneath the surface. “I woke up like this, okay? I don’t know why it’s happening, I don’t know how to fix it, and I definitely don’t need your commentary.”

Fernando tilted his head, regarding Lance with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “Touchy, aren’t we?” he said, his tone light but his gaze piercing. “Fine. You don’t know. But you’ve got to admit, it’s… fascinating.”

“Fascinating?” Lance repeated, incredulous. “I’m growing fucking animal parts, Alonso, and you think it’s fascinating?”

Fernando shrugged, unfazed. “I’ve seen weirder things.” He paused, tapping a finger to his chin as if in thought. “Actually, no. This might top the list.”

Lance groaned, dragging a hand down his face. His fevered skin was damp with sweat, and his nerves were frayed beyond belief. The last thing he needed was Fernando of all people treating this like some kind of joke. “Why are you even still here?” he muttered. “Shouldn’t you be off doing… whatever it is you do to prepare for a race?”

Fernando straightened, his smirk fading into something more neutral. “Because,” he said simply, “you clearly can’t handle this on your own.”

Lance blinked, caught off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Fernando said, stepping closer, “that whatever’s happening to you isn’t just going to go away. And unless you want the entire paddock finding out about your… condition, you’re going to need someone to help you keep it under wraps.”

Lance opened his mouth to argue, but the words died on his tongue. As much as he hated to admit it, Fernando wasn’t wrong. There was no way he could face the media or the team like this, not without drawing attention to himself. And as much as he disliked Fernando, the older driver was annoyingly good at keeping secrets when it suited him.

“Fine,” Lance said grudgingly. “But this doesn’t mean I trust you.”

Fernando’s smirk returned, wider this time. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Lancito.”

The nickname grated on Lance’s nerves, but he let it slide. For now. “If you’re going to stick around, at least try to be useful,” he muttered. “Help me figure out how to hide this.”

Fernando’s eyes sparkled with barely contained laughter. “Hide it? What, you want me to get you a hat for those ears? Maybe a leash for the tail?”

Lance shot him a withering glare. “You’re not helping.”

“Alright, alright.” Fernando held up his hands in mock surrender, though the grin never left his face. “We’ll figure something out. But you owe me for this.”

“Owe you?” Lance scoffed. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

“No,” Fernando agreed, his tone deceptively casual. “But you need it. And I’m not exactly in the habit of doing favors for free. Especially not for you.”

Lance clenched his jaw, his ears falling flat against his head as the words sank in. The heat in his cheeks wasn’t just from the fever now; it was shame, anger, and something deeper, something raw that he couldn’t quite name. It was embarrassing enough to be standing there with a tail and ears, like some kind of cursed cartoon character, but Fernando’s casual cruelty twisted the knife.

God, it hurt.

Fernando hadn't always spoken to him like that — with that razor-edged humor, it began when Fernando decided he was done with Formula 1, done with Lance, but it continued even after the Spaniard returned. Usually, Lance could shrug it off, meet Fernando’s jabs with one of his own. But today? Today, when he already felt like he was barely holding it together, it cut deeper than he wanted to admit.

“Right,” Lance muttered, his voice tight. He turned away, hoping Fernando wouldn’t notice the way his shoulders sagged. “Should’ve figured.”

There was a pause, long enough for Lance to feel the weight of it pressing down on him. He didn’t know what he expected — an apology? A softer word? This was Fernando, after all. He wasn’t exactly known for his kindness.

“Lance,” Fernando said at last, his voice quieter now.

Lance didn’t turn around. “What?”

Another pause. Then, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Lance snorted, his bushy tail flicking sharply behind him. “Sure you didn’t.”

Fernando sighed, the sound heavy and just a little frustrated. “I’m trying to help you,” he said, and there was something different in his tone now. Less teasing, more… sincere? Or at least as close to sincere as Fernando ever got. “I’m not good at this kind of thing, alright? But I’m here, aren’t I?”

Lance hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. Fernando stood there with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable, though his eyes seemed softer somehow. It was a strange sight — Fernando Alonso looking almost… apologetic.

“Yeah, you’re here,” Lance said finally, his voice low. “But you don’t have to make me feel like shit about it.”

Fernando’s lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smile but thought better of it. “Fair enough,” he said. “I’ll try to dial it back. Alright?”

Lance rolled his eyes, but he felt a tiny bit of the tension in his chest ease. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“Fine,” Lance muttered. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Atta boy, Lancito,” Fernando said, his smirk creeping back. “Now, about that tail — think you can keep it still for five minutes, or should we get you a distraction?”

“Fernando.”

“Alright, alright.” Fernando held up his hands in mock surrender, but his grin didn’t waver. “I’ll behave.”

Lance shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching despite himself. It was going to be a long day.

[softagenda]

ensared (ais)

ais x reader(f)

aphrodisiac au / short fic

series: sweet poison (scenario-based collection of character imagines)

originally posted on ao3

masterlist

Prologue

You’re an idiot for drinking that. An absolute idiot.

You’re spilled across the floor, head swimming, burning from the inside as though you’d swallowed a star. The velvet rug brushed soft and cloying against your prickling skin as you squirmed, your heart pounding in your ears and beating an insistent rhythm in your groin.

Cooing at you from the table, her cat’s eyes curled in satisfaction, Morgana asked, “Something the matter? You look positively feverish.” She twirled a curly black lock around her finger.

Bitch. 

Paintings of naked people - bathing in springs, dancing around a fire, having an orgy in front of a temple - swirled into one colorful blob as you turned on your side, fisting the rug. You attempted to pull yourself to where you remembered the door but stalled a couple inches in, weak as a newborn kitten and stifling a moan as your body rubbed on the carpet.

“Now, now, where’s the fire? Stay a while.” She rose from her chair and stood over you, her arms crossing under her full chest. “You’re clearly hot under the collar. The thought of you wandering the streets like this concerns me deeply.”

You glared up at her, using every ounce of willpower not to writhe on the floor like a worm on a hook. Your hand felt clumsily around your hip for the dagger. 

“I’ll take that,” she chirped, snatching the weapon from your belt and tossing it behind her. “Can’t have you nicking that lovely skin.” Her heel braced on the other side of you, straddling your back. Her hands tugged the shirt from your waist before dragging warm palms up your back, her nails scratching on the return journey.

You bit your lip to stifle a moan rocketing through your chest, as every nerve in your body vibrated with electric pleasure. Your hips pressed hard into the floor, growing ever desperate for friction even as you struggled to focus.

Morgana sunk her hand into your nape, drawing your hair back from your face. When she leaned down to brush her painted lips against your ear, goosebumps erupted down your neck. “We’ll start with the bandages, shall we?”

______ prologue end _________

“Wouldn’t recommend it,” mused a deep, familiar voice from the door.

Your head jerked up, hazy eyes finding a blob of teal and black, bright spots of red around the collar. The relief was short-lived when your body reacted in a purely physical way to the sound.

Morgana froze. Her grip tightened in your hair, drawing a shudder. “... Ais. What a surprise. How long has it been, ten years?”

“Don’t remember.”

The madam paused, and a short, pregnant silence followed. You swallowed, breathing shallowly to keep from inhaling anymore of that incense. Then, she demurred, “I have just the treat for you. Something strange but familiar: red head, as bratty and slutty as they come, just how you like it. Let me call an attendant to show you the way.”

“If you’re offering, how about that one under you?”

Nails bit into your skin. “This one’s off the menu.”

“Oh? Had that meal last night, and I’m in the mood for leftovers.”

If the sun weren’t trying to sweat its way out of your skin in that moment, you would’ve glared daggers at him. 

Morgana was silent as she digested that before asking, her voice smooth, “Perhaps another night? I’ll make it worth your while - a veritable banquet of beauties.”

A low hum rumbled through the room. “A banquet for little ol’ me? How generous. In that case…” His voice lowered, musing casually, “suppose I’ll have to bring a couple friends with me. Make it a real feast.”

The temperature dropped.

Morgana breathed once, deep and hurried at the nape of your neck, before releasing your hair and rising to her feet. When she next spoke, all the warmth and gracious hospitality had vanished from her voice. “Take her and get out.”

Leather boots thudded closer, pausing at the table. A soft chink, an audible gulp. “Spared no expense on the dose, huh.”

Morgana didn’t reply.

Then Ais crouched by your face, his chin nestled in his palm. “Lookin’ grounded, sparrow.”

You pressed your lips together, humiliated and so horny you’d probably jump in the Seaspring just to put out the fire in your veins. 

“Want a lift?”

With a nod, you found yourself swept onto his back. Your arms wrapped loosely around his neck as his hands hooked beneath your thighs. Brimstone and brine filled your lungs as your face dropped onto his shoulder. The display of strength, the ease of it, sent a shiver down your back and a slick feeling pooling in your groin.

He strode from the room and headed down the hall. There was a staircase leading to the street, and every step had you bouncing against his back, the friction just enough to have arousal twisting sweetly in your body but not enough for true relief.

Your hand gripped the front of his kimono.

“Havin’ a good time back there?”

“Shut up,” you hissed through gritted teeth only to whimper when he jumped you higher on his back, your thighs squeezing instinctively. “Ah - fuck you.”

“Say please.”

________________________________________________

a/n: thanks for reading!