Main Masterlist, Cats And Their Men Masterlist, Part 2

Main Masterlist, Cats and Their Men Masterlist, Part 2

Thinking about Simon with a runt of a kitten and it’s barely the size of his palm. Also thinking about the poor cashier that’s stumbling over her words when that hulking man has a kitten fisted in his palm and he just jerks it forward.

“U-Uh, sir, we can’t— I can’t keep that.” His eyes make you shrivel up and you delicately hold the little kitten in your hands. “We uh— the store can’t hold animals we only sell the stuff that animals need.”

He looks at you like that’s not what he’s wanted to hear. Granted you’ve had a couple people come up to try and surrender or drop of their animals like it’s a pound. “I need things for the cat.” He says and you feel like maybe you shot yourself in the foot.

You have a line piling up behind him but no one seems to dare speak up. Why would they when this guy could lay them flat out? Jesus what are they feeding this guy? Steroids and protein powders? You think before swallowing thickly. “I can… I can get my coworkers to—“

“No.” He reaches forward and you flinch when he picks up the kitten and holds it to his chest. “You’ll help.” Nodding off and he starts to walk leaving you dumbfounded and confused. He walks a couple steps before he turns to you with a ‘well?’ look on his face.

You hurriedly grab your pager and call for someone to go through the line while you help this guy. Leading him down the aisle for the litter and you list off the different types. “There’s crystal litter, wood pellets and those are pretty good when it comes to smell. We have tofu litter and that—“

“Does it need something fancy to shit in?” He cuts off the beginning of your speech with a huff. He sounds a mix of annoyed and amused with how you bristle from his remark. You’re tempted to leave, your manager can bitch later about you doing that butttt the kitten against his chest meows and you find that you can’t leave the little thing to suffer because their dad’s a right prick.

“Sir,” you take a breath, “the litter is moreso about preference. Do you want to hide the smell of their… ya know… poop better? Or would you prefer something that clumps or something that’s easy to clean?” You wait… and wait some more before he finally says.

“Pick one.”

You blink at him and he mimics it that bastard. He just stares the entire time you have this little contest. You’re starting to feel like you should’ve called out of work. You knew today would be horrible, your instincts never lie. “Okay,” taking a deep breath and spitefully picking the most expensive and heaviest litter that your store sells. You yank it off the shelf with a groan. If it’s hard for you to lift then he’ll probably have the time of his life having to lug this home. He doesn’t seem to care about the pricing nor the weight though as he grabs the litter from your struggling arms. He shoves the kitten back to your empty hands. “I—“ you stumble over your words, trying to come up with something but he beats you to it.

“Where’s the food she need?” Lifting it onto his shoulders, the muscles bulging as he holds that thing with ease.

“Well she,“ you cough to keep from ogling too much. “Will need some kitten food and maybe some wet food later on. A good kibble would be good to add later on once she gets older,” holding the kitten up gently and her little green eyes blink at you. You prod softly at her teeth to make sure she can handle those foods. You’re hoping she’s not to young or she’ll need kitten formula. You then check her ears and see some red marks. Noticing the little black specs moving about her neck and you cringe. “And a good flea bath. Poor thing,” petting the little baby as you walk off to grab a flea comb. He’ll have to buy it anyways so you’ll make use of it now. You pick at her fur with the comb and squish whatever fleas that you find, you hate those little fuckers. “What’s her name?”

You’ve noticed he’s as silent as a grave this customer of yours. He’s hardly said a peep besides caveman grunts and nods. If it wasn’t for him nearly against your side then you would’ve thought he ran off. That black surgical mask makes him look like he’s something important. Maybe mafia or something possibly dangerous. But… he did come in holding this tiny kitten and isn’t batting an eye at the things you’ve been telling him he’ll need to get for his new pet. Perhaps he’s nicer than your judgement of him is.

You clear your throat, he probably didn’t hear you since he hasn’t tilted his head down. “Does she have a name?” You ask once more and he pulls to a stop, he had came back with a cart earlier when there were too many things for him to hold in his tree trunk arms. It was comical seeing him try to hold a litter box, scratching post, and various foods though.

He doesn’t answer save for the roll of his shoulders that looks like it could be counted as a shrug. You mouth an ‘oh’ before you mind your business. He probably just found her or he’s gonna foster and send her off. Better to not get attached…

You chatter off the things he’ll need to do. See a vet, get her spayed, make sure she has no health problems, the usual things that you mention to pet parents. The little thing in your hands is a curious thing, she wiggles about constantly. Eager to move and escape your hands and arms. Tiny tail flicking about and the meowing and pawing is cute, makes your heart squeeze when he plucks her from your hands and he holds her close. You push the cart along and stop at the toys and bowl aisle.

“Well,” you pull some toys off the shelf, crinkle toys and mouses that should help with those prey instincts. “She’s a sweetheart. I’d probably call her Bailey,” you smile fondly and his brows furrow at your advice. Grabbing the kitten shaped bowls and hurriedly putting them in the cart when you squirm under his eyes. “Oh uh, my brother always wanted a cat named Bailey. It’s a nice name but if you don’t want to call her—“

“Bailey,” he holds her up a little and the kitten paws at his face. Her little nails snag on the fibers of his mask and he pulls them off quickly. “Better than garbage, yeah?” He speaks to the kitten like a human. There’s a crinkle besides his eyes and you realize he’s smiling but when you catch what he said you drop this cactus scratcher you thought he should buy her by accident.

“Garbage?” You look aghast. You’ve heard all kinds of names but never something like that. Quickly picking the cactus scratcher back up and placing it in the piling up cart. “You’d call her that?”

He shrugs his massive shoulders again. “S’where I found ‘er.” Grumbling his reasoning. He glares at the kitten like she’s the cause of his problems. “Couldn’t sleep with’er howling and rummaging about. Made a mess that I had to clean.”

You blink a bit and now it makes some sense why he’s so… snappy? “Well… maybe she knew you’d get her if she was loud enough.”

He scoffs, “she bit and hissed at me.” He rubs his finger over her head and you notice the little red marks on his hands. “Feisty little shit shoulda left ya out in the cold.” She nips at him and he chuckles something deep.

You can’t help the smile that reaches your face. She plays with his fingers and he doesn’t flinch when she bites hard or digs her nails in. He just looks down at her with something akin to wonder and begrudged responsibility.

You pull him to your cash register and his kitten racks up a pretty hefty bill but he pays for it with wads of cash. You don’t speak on the weird crumbled bills nor the faint reddish brown color. You simply bag his items and put them in his cart. “If you need anything, sir. Come find me and I’ll help, okay?” You can’t believe you said it AND actually ment it. What can you say, you love cats more than people and that little thing won your heart as easily as she won his.

He gives a gruff nod and pushes his cart out with on hand. The kitten is pushed into his coat pocket to hide her most likely from the cold outside. She pokes her head out to give a complaint but he just gently pushes her back in. He leaves without waving and you’re left to wonder if he’ll come back. You kinda hope he does come back.

Ruthless contract killer rendered completely powerless in the grip of his golden retriever man…..

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5 months ago

Law Textposts

Masterlist of other textposts and memes

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1 month ago

Update on my one piece ship series!!

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4 months ago

Thatch is the drama queen we all secretly need/are

Also Izou is so soft ❤️❤️❤️ I’m so looking forward to Tasuke settling into the crew omggg

Snow Fall, Part 2 (Alpha!Izou x Omega!Reader)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

The first chapter

***SPOILERS FOR WANO***

Thanks for being patient, I got kinda stuck but I'm back into the groove of this fic. Thank you to @gouraminnow for beta-ing this <3

“ Commander Izou, my h-home is to the right,” you stated with uncertainty as Izou carried you in his arms to your residence. You were wearing flimsy cloth shoes that were unsuitable for the winter climate on the island. By the rips on the sides and wear on the soles, you’d been wearing them a long time. Izou had determined he needed to carry you to the next destination to avoid having you freeze to death. Yet another reason Izou wasn’t upset by the destruction his brothers were wreaking on your employer.

Izou also told you to pack up whatever you needed and that you'd be coming with him to the ship. He told you that he was taking you away from your adopted family and you hadn’t protested. You weren’t looking at him directly as he’d informed you but staring off into the distance. You’d protested initially but he had left no room for argument. He could scent your fear and felt your trembling fingers wrapping themselves around his neck as he carried you through the snowy town. He’d have more time to explain later that you’d be safe, that nothing bad was going to happen to you ever again. But for now he wanted to put as much space as he could between you and the horrible people to dare call themselves your family.

“B-but Commander, you don’t need to hold me, I can -” you’d been trying to get him to put you down since he’d first swept you off your feet; he'd plucked you off the ground you’d even made contact with the snowy sidewalk.

“Carrying you pleases me,” Izou said simply. Given your reserved nature as well as the strict social hierarchy you were raised with, he knew you’d defer to him. It was a dance he hadn’t done in a long time, playing along with the social cues and mores of Wanese culture but in this case it worked to his advantage. If he tried to explain that you were under dressed for the weather or that he felt the need to feel your meager weight in his arms, you’d protest further to prevent inconveniencing him. Truthfully, it did please him to carry you, to have your scent so close to his own, to feel the reassurance of you in his arms. He’d carry you forever if you let him.

“Ah, this is it,” you indicated, pointing to a large, solid brick house with smoke coming out the chimney. At least they’d given you a proper place to live, he thought to himself. As Izou stepped on the cleared path to the house, you shook your head.

“N-no, sorry. The house behind this one,” you said quietly, pointing to a shack set back in the snowy woods.

Of course.

Izou noted the rickety shack and the rags covering the windows - either to keep in heat or to keep prying eyes out. Swiftly walking towards the hut, he opened the door and set you down inside.

“Gather your things,” Izou said softly, putting his hand on the small of your back to encourage you. The inside of the single room hut was as dismal as Izou imagined it would be. There were gaps in the thin wood walls, letting in the harsh winter air. Your tiny bed was crammed into the corner, leaving enough room for a table and a broken chair. There was a small chest, he assumed for your clothes and other necessities. There was a tiny stove, barely large enough to boil a kettle of water. Your home, if it could be called that, was tidy and clean. You'd tried to brighten the space with pictures and dried flowers but it hadn't helped the dismal feeling inside the shack.

“I apologize for the state of my house, Commander. If I had known someone like you would be joining -” you were already bowing to him again, your hands stiff at your side balled into fists. Izou bent down to put his hands on your shoulders and righted you to an upright position.

“Do not apologize. Collect your things,” Izou ordered in a gentle tone. You frowned but nodded and walked over to the small bookshelf on the wall. You grabbed an old, battered tome, wrapping it like you were swaddling a baby in one of the few blankets on your bed. Holding it to your chest, you put it in a basket and saw Izou watching you.

“Ah, the cookbook my father gave me before I left Wano,” you said in answer to Izou’s unasked question. You’d mentioned leaving Wano a few times but Izou hadn’t heard of many people leaving the country in recent years. He’d have to get the full story out of you on the Moby. Moving towards you, he noted a picture of himself tacked onto the wall. It was from his most recent Wanted Poster (an attractive photo, if he did say so himself). You had cut off the bottom portion with his bounty and wanted status so it looked more like a photograph of a friend - or lover. You followed Izou’s eyes towards the picture and hung your head.

“This is embarrassing. Please do not take offense, Commander,” you begged while looking down at your feet. Izou laughed softly into the sleeve of his winter yukata.

“What man would take offense at a beautiful woman having his picture on the wall? Please, continue to gather your things. I would like to take you away from here. This building offends me,” Izou said. You were spurred into action from his words. You gathered a few clothing items and a lacquer hair comb, likely also from Wano based on the style.

“I am finished, Commander. I await your next instruction,” you replied seriously, like you were one of the men under his command. He’d have to get you to relax eventually, to accept help and seek it out from him. The Alpha in him wanted to grab you and take you back to his rooms, to show you he could protect you. But Izou knew you were traumatized and nervous, unsure what to do with yourself while you navigated the relationship between them. He’d give you the time and space you needed to recover before making any large moves. Well, larger than taking you to the Moby Dick and away from the island you called home.

“That is all? Do you have more winter clothes? You are not returning to this residence,” Izou stated, nearing you once more. You shook your head and took a step back, making him scowl at your learned muscle memory. Maybe he should return to the shop and teach your family some lessons in proper manners towards women.

“You will come to no harm under my hand, either from myself or any other,” Izou said softly, cornering you against the wall. You cowered away from him, increasing his anger towards those who had harmed you. Without warning he picked you up again, making you squeak in surprise. The scent of fear was strong in the air, souring your perfect snowy smell. Izou detected the scent of his own anger joining your fear, a potent but unpleasant combination.

“I apolog -”

“Do not apologize to me. None of this is your fault,” Izou said, cutting you off. He wished he had met you in Wano, perhaps before you’d become so averse to any kind of conflict.

“Where are you taking me, Commander -”

“ Izou. Just Izou,” he corrected. If he was going to be your Alpha, you needed to get used to calling him by his first name without any honorifics. He didn’t want to force you to be his mate but he was going to do everything in his power to make it so.

“I-izou, where are we going? To another island? Are you taking me back to Wano?” you asked, your hands kneading together as your legs dangled over his arm. Izou frowned at your question. You were agreeable to leaving the island to get away from the people who had been abusing you but he wasn’t so sure how happy you’d be sailing the seas with pirates, especially ones as notorious as the Whitebeard Pirates.

“Would you like to go back to Wano?” Izou couldn’t take you but Kiku was likely still there. Perhaps he could find a way…you paused, considering his question in silence before speaking in a tone so soft he almost couldn’t hear.

“No, there’s nothing for me there. I - my - there’s no one there I don't think,” you said softly. You didn’t say anything further and neither did he as he felt your warm breath on his neck. Afterwards the only sound was Izou’s boots crunching on the icy path as he continued to walk towards the ship. He didn’t want to pry, it was your story to tell, but he was burning to hear how you’d escaped Wano.

“You’ll come with me on the Moby Dick, Whitebeard’s ship. We will figure out next steps from there,” Izou stated less as a suggestion and more a demand. You looked up at him through your lashes and gave a short nod of your head. That was all it took for Izou to leave the hovel you’d been calling home, reminding himself to have Ace torch the family home later.

“Should I - is my debt transferring to you?” you asked, your hands gripping his clothes as he walked through the wintry terrain. The closer you were to him, the sharper your snowy scent in his nose. He pulled you closer to his chest to smell you further but resisted from burying his head in your uncovered neck.

“Yes, you’ve mentioned this debt. To what does it refer? Your…adopted family mentioned it briefly,” Izou asked, as if he was completely unconcerned.

“Ah, it’s kind of a long story,” you hedged nervously, avoiding his gaze. Izou smelled smoke coming from the other side of the island.

“Is there anyone you’d like to say goodbye to -” Izou began to say before you interrupted him for the first time. He assumed you didn’t want to see your abusers again but perhaps there was someone on the island who had shown you kindness.

“No,” you replied without hesitation. Good, they could wreck and raid the island. Made things easier for Ace to remember. With Ace on his mind, Izou smelled smoke and saw the plume rising from town so Izou decided to take the path away from the center of town on his way to the Marina. He didn’t think it would bother you to see the bakery burning to the ground but he didn’t want to distress you any further. To distract you from the destruction he tried a new avenue of conversation.

“And you are Tasuke, yes? Or is there another name you’d prefer to be called? ’ he continued. He wanted to make sure you felt as comfortable as possible with him. He had heard of other Wanese people taking more “common” names after they defected because their given names were difficult for most people to pronounce.

“Oh, Tasuke isn’t actually my name. It kind of ties into how I came here. About ten years ago, Father - ah, my adopted father - came with the Marines to Wano to trade resources with Kaido -”

“How? The borders are closed and Wano isn’t under the jurisdiction of the World Government, Marines can’t trade there,” Izou asked quietly. He didn’t want to interrupt the flow of your story but he hadn’t heard of Marines on Wano. Not that he’d heard anything out of Wano in 20 years but it was interesting information to know.

“ Ah, my parents owned property along the seashore. Seastone was discovered along the cliffs of their property and Marines paid Kaido for the rights to mine it out,” you explained. Ah, that was the connection. Seastone was known to only come from Wano and given that it was being used by Marines across the Grand Line it made sense they were trading with Kaido. Izou idly wondered how much money Kaido had amassed from seastone mining.

“They spent their life savings to bribe a Captain - Father - to smuggle me out of Wano. I was much younger at the time but still hadn’t presented as anything. Well, I was supposed to be an Omega but my scent never developed. They thought I would have a better life outside of the country, or maybe could find a doctor to tell me what’s wrong with me,” you continued. Izou wasn’t going to interrupt your story again but he wanted to tell you that there wasn’t anything wrong with you, that you were the most perfect Omega he’d ever met.

“The Captain brought me out of Wano and brought me here, saying that the amount of danger he had risked increased the cost of my trip. He said that the amount of money my parents paid was not sufficient and that I would need to work for him to pay off my debt. So I cleaned his house, tended to his bakery, cooked for his family, did the family’s laundry, anything they needed. He said that my wages were going towards my debt but the amount I owed only ever seemed to increase. They would charge me for anything that I needed, any time I took off for being sick, any food I consumed, anything,” you continued. No wonder you were wearing shoddy clothing, Izou thought, you were paying for it in sweat and blood.

“So after a few years on the island, I realized Father had no intention of letting me go. And Wido, my brother…well, you saw. He’s always like that - or, um, worse. I kept asking for people to help me - tasukete. I wanted to, ah, leave those people, maybe escape the island and go back to Wano. I didn’t have any concrete plans, I just wanted to leave here,” you said, rubbing your arms where the bruises lingered. Izou fought the urge to scowl at the memory of Wido harming you but settled on holding you tighter in his arms. You needed comfort from him, not aggression. He wanted to show you that he wasn’t a mindless alpha like some, ready to tear off your clothes and sink into you. He wanted you to see that he would wait until you were ready.

“After a while everyone assumed Tasuke was my name and that’s what they called me. I don’t mind anymore,” you said with a small smile as your story concluded. Izou reflected your own mannerism back to you though he felt like murdering everyone on this godforsaken island and leaving nothing standing. Unfortunately he’d have to trust in his brothers to wreak havoc on the island and not partake in this particular adventure.

“ And your parents?” Izou prompted.

“I haven’t heard anything from them in ten years so I don't know anything for certain. Father’s missions changed and he stopped going to Wano shortly after I came to the island. I can only hope they are alive and well, though they were quite elderly when I left,” you said wistfully, staring at the water he was now approaching by the docks. Izou knew that longing, twisting, yearning. He felt the same for his own sister who he hadn’t been in communication with for decades, since he'd left with Oden. He had written hundreds of letters and saved them all with the intention of somehow getting them to her eventually. His brothers, though sympathetic, didn’t understand what it was like to be completely and irrevocably cut off from home. He wanted to continue the conversation but was now at the dinghy that would take you to the massive ship moored father into the icy ocean.

“Hey! What gives?!” Thatch complained from inside the boat. There was some soot on his winter coat and gloves but Izou didn’t mention it.

“What do you mean?” Izou replied coolly, still cradling you in his arms.

“You’ve never carried me before. Not even when I broke my leg! You made me walk to the beach and Marco had to come get me!” Thatch huffed.

“.....and?”

“AND you’ve been carrying her this whole way! S’not fair,” Thatch pouted, crossing his arms like a petulant child. Thatch broke into a soft smile when he saw the confusion on your face, looking between them rapidly while trying to determine if there was true anger between him and Thatch. Izou guessed you spent the last decade walking on eggshells, attempting to maintain peace between your “family” members and avoid being beaten as a consequence.

“S’alright. Come on, let’s head back before we’re barbecued,” Thatch said, grabbing the oars to the boat. Izou stepped into the dinghy, still holding you and your meager belongings. He settled you into his lap as Thatch shot him a dirty look you couldn’t see and began rowing the three of you back to the Moby. Izou rolled his eyes and pursed his lips, his brothers liked to claim he was dramatic but really, Thatch was the biggest drama queen on the ship. You were busy burying your head and hands into Izou’s chest to avoid the freezing winter winds blowing off the seas. Thatch eyed you sympathetically and grabbed the warm winter hat off his own head.

“Ask her if she wants it,” Thatch suggested, holding the gaudy orange hat outstretched in his hand. Izou didn't wear winter hats, they mussed his hair and he didn't often feel cold. But now he wished he did so he could give you his own.

“My brother Thatch is offering you his hat to keep you warm. You may remember him from the bakery. Would you like it?” Izou asked you softly, patting your hair while he spoke. You picked your head up and looked at it longingly.

“How much does it cost? If I just wear it once?” you asked, biting your lip.

“Nothing. Your debt has been paid off. For good,” Izou said, his voice a little tighter than he intended. Your eyes flicked to his, trying to read his face to determine if he was lying or not. Izou kept his face impassive to let you make your own choices. You turned to face Thatch in the boat and did a bow as large as your limited positioning allowed.

“Thank you,” you said simply, reaching for the hat with shaking fingers. You sniffed the hat as politely as you could and must have found it not repulsive because you put it on your head. Izou was pleased you were warm but was a little annoyed you weren’t wearing anything with his scent on it. He would make some Wanese winter clothes for you like he did for himself once you settled in on the ship. Izou decided to give you some general ideas of who the siblings you had met were.

“Thatch is in charge of the Culinary Division of the crew, Ace - the dark haired young man who ate the most in the bakery - is in charge of Navigation. Marco - the tall blond - is the doctor of the ship and in charge of the Medical Division,” Izou explained. Thatch waved when he heard his name, he probably assumed that Izou was doing introductions. You gave a smile and waved back.

“Nice to meet you,” you said in your beautifully accented voice. Clearly you had learned some Common but your family had likely prevented you from learning enough to make an escape. Language barriers were an easy way to keep you on the island in perpetuity.

“I would be overjoyed to work in the kitchens if Thatch would have me. I am best at baking but I am also competent at food preparation and stocking, dishes, cleaning, and knowledgeable in cooking most types of standard fare. I would be thrilled to learn anything that is needed to -” Izou took your cold hands in his own, partially to warm them and partially to stop your speech.

“ It would be our pleasure to learn from your expertise in the kitchens. But let me make something clear before we proceed - you do not need to earn your keep. You have no debt to settle and no need to prove your worth. You are free.”

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff @animefreak818