#this is from when I had just seen the anime | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

1980shorrorfilm · 2 days ago

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you’ve seen the butcher

hey guys whats up

pairing…shauna shipman x fem!reader

in which…you make a new life for yourself after being rescued, but that doesn’t stop your ex from finding you.

before you read…18+. nsfw. smut!!!! post-rescue shauna. shauna shipman being shauna shipman. did i mention gay sex. everything is morally grey. wc 3.8k.

no one came to visit you. not friends, not family, just an occasional deer and fox that leave their friendly marks on the dirt surrounding your home, always near the blooming june flowers.

though, you couldn’t say they were the ones who left a beat-up cardboard box on your porch.

you had yet to touch it, because that had meant bringing it inside, opening it, and seeing whatever the fuck it was.

and nothing about an anonymous delivery with no return address, at your cabin in the middle of the damn woods, screams good news.

especially when you’ve done your best to remain off the grid, and away from everyone that once knew you. those girls most importantly. what happened out there, stayed out there; that’s what she told you.

the words that left shauna shipman’s mouth after you were rambling in your hospital bed that you do like her—like like her—your heartbroken self trying to keep what you two had before they found you.

the long romantic nights in your shared hut, whether that meant physical or simply holding her after she was comfortable enough to cry to you.

that wasn’t often, shauna feared vulnerability.

you guess that’s why she couldn’t face her feelings for you when there was a such thing as being in the public eye. why she kept whatever she still felt for you, a secret.

you, her secret.

drunken sleepovers that made her feel alive again. locking you in the bedroom of some rando’s party. parking at the beach at night when it was just you and her and the water and the moon.

that didn’t last. she had jeff, and you had no one, just the weight of feeling like a burden.

you had moved away quietly just a year ago. not a word was said to anyone because they would just try to talk you out of it. thinking it was some fucked up response to your trauma, moving to a remote location, your only neighbors being the trees and passing animals.

maybe it was, or maybe it was just a cheap buy and a desperate urge to get away from everything.

although, that didn’t mean you could truly leave the past, in the past.

you get up from your dining chair, no longer able to occupy yourself with the latest flashy magazine you picked up in town, forcing yourself to walk to your front door.

you open it, and the wind chimes hung on your porch greet you, the metal echoing while the sun sets over the cabin. the package is still sitting at the top of the steps, taunting you.

before you step outside, your eyes scan the area, from the tall vibrant green trees around your home, to whoever could be stalking behind them. there’s no one and nothing, so you push the screen door, the warm breeze hugging you when you walk over and grab the box, not wasting time to get back inside.

you bring it to the table, using a dull knife to cut through the messy tape, a scowl on your face at the idea of something gross being inside.

luckily, it’s not.

it’s a vhs tape, no note, no other random object in the box, just that alone. eerie, and oddly intriguing. you slowly walk to the room over, kneeling before the boxed tv that’s currently on a broadcast of an old game show. the laughter from the speakers cuts off when you switch the channel, inserting the tape into the player beside you.

you should be more hesitant, more worried, but you were now way too fucking curious. the screen is static at first, then plain darkness with muffled voices.

that goes on for nearly a minute before the camera is seemingly tossed on a mattress, facing a wall.

shauna’s wall, her bedroom, and her voice in the background. then, she emerges in the frame, laying back on her bed with her elbows propping her up.

she wears a toothy grin and eyes something off-camera like she’s looking at meat. then you hear yourself.

“why would you fucking invite him?”

you sound pissed, and shauna seems to take enjoyment in it, still smiling like an asshole. typical.

“jeff literally passes out before the family guy theme song ends, chill.”

you turn the volume up, the approaching night causing the temperature to drop and the breeze to pick up, the wind chimes growing louder outside your windows.

“yeah, okay,” you laugh dryly, “i should’ve just gone out with natalie instead of this bullshit.”

“you still can, you know? i mean you’re fucking dressed for it.”

the smile had dropped from shauna’s face the moment you mentioned the other yellowjacket, her dark eyes seemingly scanning your figure still away from the camera, while the angered words spewed from her pink lips.

it goes silent. almost like the camera had broken, and didn’t pick up any audio.

you shift uncomfortably, noticing the way her pixelated face softens and she frowns with a pout. the switch; what she pulled in every argument that got you to shut up when you locked eyes with her doe ones. you predict the next words that leave her lips.

“i’m sorry, okay? c’mere…”

she was always sorry. always for a different reason, and you never once questioned her if she ever truly was; you liked to believe so. you feel pity for yourself, watching you emerge into frame, in that fucking dress she had gifted you.

it was a mint green with tiny white flowers—one that seemed familiar as if you’d seen it in her closet. though, shauna had never worn it.

you stood before her, and shauna dramatically pouted, her palm on the back of your thigh, pulling you into her lap and slipping beneath the material of the dress.

shauna wanted you to see this. to see her hands traveling on the sacred parts of your body and her mouth on your neck; eyes locking momentarily with the camera lenses. you hate her. she’s not here, and you haven’t seen her in so fucking long, but you swear you hate her.

you hit stop on the vhs player, the television screen now blue and reflecting off of your flustered face.

you didn’t need to watch it to remember it. that sleepover took place once your therapy started working and your family stopped coddling you so damn much. things had gone back to a somewhat normal and you thought one night with shauna would be fine. good, even.

you hadn’t known that making out with her until jeff showed up with a pizza, would lead to an argument that would cause you both to stop talking to each other.

you’d bring up her worst habits; like cheating when you could just fucking be together, and she’d say the meanest shit to you to get a reaction, and remove the burning spotlight from herself.

how could she ever date someone as pathetic as you? as boring? you didn’t answer her when she asked that.

she had ended it her hot headed rant with ‘you aren’t special.’

the words that were drilled into your head until the weeks passed and you left her, and that town, behind.

and out of everyone, shauna fucking shipman was the first to find you.

it hits you at once, she came here and you didn’t even notice.

the goosebumps rise on your skin, the metal of the wind chimes clinging with a force. your head turns immediately, eyes peering into the darkness that's outside your windows.

you’re not as pathetic as she thinks.

you get up, walking with hurried steps to your dimly lit room, though you don’t need the warm lamp beside your bed to see beneath it. you know exactly where it is, the shotgun you purchased not even a week of living out here. surely not the safest spot but easy access.

you bend down and grab it, not yet adjusting the safety as you follow your footsteps back to where the tv is still blue, turning and heading towards the door. you turn the porch light on, and exit the home, keeping the weapon pointed while you study your surroundings.

you think you should shout something; especially when a branch snaps to the left of your porch, but you remain mute. you even take a few steps forward, and down the stairs, holding a hardened face and scanning the forest with the gun.

a minute passes, and then two, and nothing greets you. not a scared deer or a protective mother bear or a terrorizing shauna shipman.

the nerves in your system don’t settle, and you nervously turn back around and rush into your small home; where the television screen is no longer blue, and playing the fucking homemade movie.

you don’t let the scene play out, briefly catching a glimpse of her mouth attacking your neck before you unplug the television completely, leaving the screen foggy and dark, with the shadow of two figures reflecting in it.

“that’s lame—you were just getting to the good part.”

you hear her before you see her. part of you doesn’t even want to turn around and face her, to acknowledge shauna is here and not in your nightmares and dreams. you don’t lower your gun, if anything you keep it lined with her chest when you do force yourself to look at her.

“what the fuck are you doing here?”

“i missed you?” shauna says so casually, as if the tension in the cabin was one-sided, or nonexistent completely. she doesn’t even care that you’re pointing a weapon at her—she knows you wouldn’t use it—and she moves away from the door, taking a seat on the couch. legs spread and eyes locked on you.

shauna doesn’t look much different from the last day you saw her; maybe with less makeup and longer hair. she ditched her light clothes for a dark long sleeve and pants similar in shade, and heavy boots rather than the flats jeff likes seeing her wear. she notices the steady trail of your eyes, leaning back in the cushion.

“you don’t think it’s like…stockholm-y to be out here?”

“i like it.”

her mouth opens, then shuts, a hummed laugh.

“yeah,” she mumbles, “i bet you do.”

you bite your tongue, and there’s a beat of silence.

“must be nice,” shauna speaks quietly, daring to remove her eyes from you to inspect your home, fingertips trailing the arm of the couch, “to just…leave.”

“didn’t really feel welcomed back at home,” you mutter, and it’s not rocket science to figure out you’re talking about her, not the occasional judgmental eyes or unwanted sympathy you received at the mall.

she ignores the passive aggressive comment, narrowing her gaze, “you left me behind…so fucking easy for you, too.”

shauna earns a short chuckle from yourself; because you couldn’t help but find it hilarious that she’s somehow the victim here. the narrative that she’s your precious lover that you left in the dust with a smile—when you cried to yourself the first damn night you were miles away.

“that what you came out here for?” you ask, lowering your gun until it points to the scratched-up wood floor, “to throw a pity party?”

“i deserve it after what you did to me,” shauna mutters, making your jaw slightly drop at the sheer audacity shipman had. you couldn’t say you were the best girlfriend, but holy fuck.

sure, you’d blame the shit that happened out there, solely on her, like you weren’t stood firmly by her side when she insisted on staying in the woods. and yeah, she’d beg to see you because you were the only one that understood her, and you’d ignore her calls and keep your door locked when she showed up unexpectedly.

but, shauna was worse. that’s what you tell yourself.

you shake your head, and point your finger, “i did you a favor by fuckin’ leaving—a-and you have him.”

“i never wanted him and you out of everyone know that.”

shauna gets up now, and her height doesn’t play a factor in how she seems to tower you. that’s just her when she got like this; pissed.

“i needed you,” her voice raises, stepping around the coffee table before her, but not yet closer to you. she’s being smart about this—catching her emotions bleed through her tone and gulping, blinking fast.

she pays no mind to the pain ripping through her chest, resisting the urge to scream how fucking badly losing you had hurt, and how selfish you are for not caring. you expect the switch, and her demeanor does indeed shift, but it’s not the kind eyes and light voice.

she slowly walks over, a hint of a grin on her face, watching you dare to raise the shotgun at her. you can only shuffle in place nervously when she’s right in front of you, pressing herself into the barrel.

“think you can do it?” she teases, testing you despite knowing the outcome.

“i just want you to leave, shauna—and not fucking come back,” you tell her, voice wavering and your stare trailing to the center of her chest, where your gun rests. you don’t even sound convincing to yourself.

“think you want a little more than that.”

her hand finds the top of the gun, gripping it at once, observing the way your pretty lips frown while the weapon sways. she truly did miss this.

how not only was it the fear that coursed through you, it was excitement. a quick widening of your eyes as they begin to mirror her darkened ones, letting her take full control of the gun now.

it’s why you connected with shauna shipman in the first place. you’re not that different.

the shotgun is now pointed at you, her head tilting to your kitchen. she demands, “walk.”

you obey. with soft steps, your feet carry you to the room over, barely making it in the archway before you felt the cool metal pressing into your backside, into the thin material of your lavender nightgown.

she pushes you to the small brown dining table in the middle of the room, though the weapon was more so encouragement than force. you bend over the surface without her having to ask, your face tilted sideways on the wood grain.

shauna is already high on euphoria at how easily you let go of any personal fucking ‘morals’ you claim to have, giving yourself up for her the way people do to their beloved gods. as if you never even parted ways. if only. she thinks she’d have somehow gotten you pregnant by now, had she continued to have access to you.

you’re just so beautiful, she thinks, putting the gun beside your head, gently stroking the side of your temple with her thumb. she only sees you in photos now, or envisions the common scowl on your face mid argument. but you like this, waiting for her, yearning for her; fucking angelic.

shauna roughly pushes your nightgown up, pulling down your underwear, nearly drooling at the sight. the plus side about you being out here, meant you were alone—no one to feel you in the ways she pictures before bed.

“you know,” she begins, holding back a laugh at the way you huff to yourself, already so damn eager for her, “i told you i missed you…you didn’t say shit back.”

you don’t respond, nearly twitching the moment her fingers find their way between your thighs, trailing up the skin, and to the most sensitive part.

you sigh, two fingers rubbing precisely in a circular motion with ease; your underwear had grown damp moments ago. another thing so easy for shauna.

“and that’s weird—because…” she leans over you, her hips pressing against your own while her weight is on your back.

her fingers suddenly leave your clit, swiping against your pussy, and she holds her hand up, just inches from your face. she’s forcing you to watch it glisten.

she tries to humiliate you, snickering, “seems like you do.”

shauna doesn’t expect you to grab her wrist, pull her closer, and wrap your lips around her fingertips, pushing your head down upon them. she gulps, a raspy ‘fuck,’ muttered near your ear—before she suddenly bites it, and reconnects her hand to your cunt.

you gasp when she wastes no more time, entering two fingers still coated with your spit inside of you, moving them as if she’s trying to remember what you felt like. you’re squeezing her, groaning her name, and shauna can confirm this is what heaven is.

not fucking pure white clouds and a golden gate like jeff’s parents insist to her—it’s your warmth. in every way that had meant.

she slowly pulls out, both of you exhaling, before she starts to pump them into you.

her wrist is angled in the most perfect way, that her index finger is prodding at that soft and special spot inside you; the lonely cabin filled with the lewd sounds of her fucking you and ragged breaths.

your heavy eyelids are focused on the gun in front of your face, shauna’s hand still on it while her other one is roughly working below your waist. you have to stretch your arms over to the edge of the table, attempting to stop sliding with each thrust—not from her fingers, but rather her pelvis pushing into your ass.

“say it,” she breathes, “tell me you missed me.”

again, you ignore her, only paying attention to the way she was fucking you with no mercy.

her hand frees from the weapon to the base of your neck; a delicate hold with a careful squeeze.

you groan, “i did—i did, shauna.”

she smiles with cocky satisfaction, before occupying her lips on the backside of your shoulder, sinking her teeth into you in sync with her fingers.

you’re clenching around her now; shauna moaning into your flesh at the sensation, slowing down her movements to really feel you.

you’re so close, you weakly try to hump her hand, to increase the speed she’s suddenly lacking. shauna laughs at you this time because you’re too intoxicated on her to care.

“missed you real fuckin’ bad.”

the words leave your mouth like a hushed sin, raw and honest, and probably something you’ll regret once you come down from this high. shauna is fucking thriving.

“should’ve come sooner,” she says, picking up her pace, earning the most heavenly cry from you when she pushes her fingers deep and presses hard. “you just looked so peaceful out here…all alone.”

your blurry vision, somewhat steadies, back onto the gun, replaying what she had just told you again in your head. but it’s too late, your mind goes fuzzy and your legs go limp, whimpering her name when she brings you to that sweet edge.

“c’mon,” she whispers from behind you, “fucking give it to me.”

you feel her fingers slide out of you, focusing once again on your clit, rubbing harsh and sloppy circles that make you see stars. shauna could never forget your body, or how to treat it, it’s her favorite place.

her hips continue to grind into you, teeth nipping at the back of your neck, tickling a sweet spot while you tremble head to toe.

“ssshauna.”

it comes out a very bleak warning, shauna humming but not letting up between your legs. you swear the table she has you bent over will have your nail marks in it, scratching down the surface, shutting your eyes while her hand tightly clutches your throat.

she pulls you up—you can hardly even stand—her grip from nearly choking you is keeping you from collapsing. you’re leaning your weight on her body, still trapped between her and the table, the woman now silent as she brought you to another orgasm.

and it happens fast…for the both of you. shauna couldn’t help it, you felt too perfect squirming against her, and you use her name like your only prayer—she missed this way too damn much.

she has to taste you. she earned it, after all.

with a long trailed stroke on your pussy, she brings her fingers to her salivating mouth, sucking on them and not wasting a single drop of you. her eyes shut in bliss, wishing this could last forever.

then, she snuggles her head into the crook of your neck, an innocent kiss compared to what she had just done.

for a few minutes, the cabin is still, and shauna holds you while you both come down from your high. that is, until you slip from her arms, tugging your underwear back up and fixing your nightgown. her fixated stare doesn’t leave you, and you turn around to meet it.

“…you knew i was here.”

shauna blinks at you, walking away, opening one of the cabinets in the kitchen. she grabs a glass cup, conveniently knowing where they were located, and fills it at the sink.

“i mean, i’m here, aren’t i?”

you bite your tongue, your eyes not leaving hers while she gulps the water down. the faulty wiring in the old cabin makes itself known, the lights flickering once more, a heavy gust of the night breeze flowing through the windows.

“shau—” “how about i run you a bath? with those bubbles you like, hm?”

you don’t get the chance to reply, subtly flinching when she hits the glass on the counter to set it down. with a soft smile, she walks toward you, halting her steps to kiss the apple of your cheek. you start to turn your head, and she grips your chin, tilting your jaw to her.

you’re upset, she knows this, you get stubborn.

deep down, you won’t admit why, but shauna doesn’t need a verbal confirmation from you. she hears you, crying out her name in the darkness of your bedroom, windows open like it was a fucking beckoning.

keeping old polaroids of you together on your nightstand to hold when you needed her. because no matter how many times you scream and shout that you hate shauna shipman—you love her so much more—so deeply and there’s simply no way you could ever stop.

you know what she’s capable of, the sick shit that happened in those woods that she fucking loved. you’ve seen her at her worst and her cruelest and you don’t care.

you’re upset shauna hadn’t made her presence known sooner.

you close your eyes when shauna kisses you, your fists balling around the fabric of her black shirt. it’s not rushed, not at all messy, shauna’s mouth is practically eating yours with a slow hungry passion.

it transports you to the past, and for a moment, there is no bad. not even the kind that you accepted and tolerated and took depraved amusement in. it’s just two people that love each other for who they are, no matter what.

the world unpauses when her tongue stops moving with yours.

shauna pulls away, and continues to the bathroom, walking down the hall and glancing back at you, waiting for you to follow.

and you do, without hesistation.

#is that a deftones ref #yellowjackets x reader #shauna shipman x reader #shauna x reader #shauna shipman fanfic #yellowjackets fanfic #wlw fanfic #shauna shipman smut #lesbian fanfic #shauna shipman imagines #why are you still reading this? do you want me??

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abyssyby · 2 days ago

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Hi! Loved your most recent fic with our favorite family, it was so angsty but so good! I wonder if this is gonna make it even harder for the boys to say goodbye to Sylus before he goes off on a mission (and maybe even their mom when she has to travel for work too). Like, we've already seen it was tough before, but it was more of a "I'm gonna miss you" sadness but now that they've been on a mission themselves it's like, "Missions are NOT fun, they're scary, please don't go😭"

hello!!! thank you for reading two birds on a wire 🥺 genuinely one of my most favorite stories i’ve written so far so i feel incredibly blessed and i appreciate each and every reply on it 💕 — yes, the twins are definitely more reluctant to let papa go now since they know what’s in store for him on his ‘ishuns (missions).

kyros would be very time conscious. well, firstly, he’d be holding onto papa’s legs and sobbing by the door (if sy had a difficult time leaving then, he’s definitely suffering now). he’d be sobbing and begging him to stay—

“five mimits!” he doesn't know what minutes are. but sylus has stayed for 4 ‘five mimits’ now, so he’s convinced they mean ‘stay’.

his voice is squeeze out of his throat, small and pitchy, begging desperately, “five— five mimits, papa, pease! pease!”

sylus has to drag his leg all the way to the door, and take an extra ten minutes to soothe kyros in his arms before promising he’ll call or be back at a certain time.

Kyros has mephisto tap on a gentle tinking bell to let him know the time, and eventually learns how to read big hand and small hand on the antique grandfather clock. you find him sometimes staring up at it, and when he spots you or the big twins passing by, he points up and asks, “time? what time?”

“just a little bit more,” you’d tell him, knowing the time sylus is supposed to call too.

“much more?”

“hmm, about three songs, angel.”

so he waddles over to the record player, asks you to help him put on sylus’s CDs and counts. by the end of the third classical song he’s listened to, he uncovers his ears (the last song ended with loud trumpets) and runs to the house phone/holo-caller, where sylus’s holographic face pops up.

sylus’s heart melts when Kyros or both Kyros and Lucian’s big eyes fill up his screen as the call goes through.

“papa, come home now.”

“one sleep, angel.”

kyros definitely gets huffy puffy. snuffing through his nose like an angry little dragon and stomping his little feet in disapproval. “don’t want sleep!”

“then how will it be morning?”

kyros’s brows knit together at that. sylus watches the gears turn behind his eyes. and then, softer, more hopeful— “i sleep now, papa. i make morning.”

sylus grins, cleverly cocky and effectively charmed. “good night, turtle.”

when kyros wakes, papa is always back home. either lifting him out of his bed or waiting for him by the fireplace. kyros walks up to him quietly, climbs on his lap, lays sleepily on his chest and listens to his heart. he feels much better now.

lucian is action-driven— anxiety manifested in mischief and pranks.

little pranks, essentially harmless in nature, but it effectively causes sylus delays.

"lucian?" sylus calls, voice loud but not angry. more amused.

lucian emerges from the hallway, hands behind his back. bright red eyes round and ‘innocent’. "papa?"

"did you put butter in my shoes?" he grimaces, eyeing his slippery stained socks.

"oopsie— AAA papa, no run you slip!" Lucian is giggling, sylus has phased before him and picked him up. blowing raspberries in his cheeks and nuzzling his nose to his ticklish neck. "papa!"

sylus loses all sorts of things the minute he’s set to leave. until he follows the trail of animal cracker crumbs/plastic cars/paper stars where he finds lucian tucking them away under his pillows, into his pants or in mephisto's treasure piles.

sylus confronts him about it when he gets chocolate fingerprints on an important document. with a stronger voice, exasperated and tired, he lifts lucian up by the back of his shirt just as he runs away.

lucian is already teary as sylus sets him in the crook of his elbow. "i sorry, i sorry!"

but sylus can't find it in himself to truly be mad. instead he keeps up the front (very difficultly) and scolds lucian. and then when he gets his points across, he brushes the tears away from his eyes and kisses his brows. "why are you being naughty?"

lucian is sniffling, hugging sylus around the neck, seeking forgiveness. "don't want papa— don't want papa go—"

"you can just ask me, angel." sylus says sympathetically, fingers pushing sweaty bangs away from his forehead. he presses his forehead against lucian's. "just ask, i will listen."

"you say no."

sylus's heart aches. "not always."

"yes always!" lucian says, angry little fists coming down onto sylus's chest with no real force. but sylus feels the frustration spear into his heart nonetheless. "papa go— papa go to scary mishins!"

"Lucian, I—"

"Papa will died! Fly and fall and died!" he yells. devastated, traumatized, upset. he'd been the one with his eyes peeking out his shirt during the crash landing, he'd been the one who saw the strain in sylus's eyes and the grinding teeth when he held them and yelled at his pilots during the mission. "I don't want papa died!"

Sylus squeezes his eyes shut as he accepts the soft blows of anguish loaded fists. enduring, he presses his forehead against the little boy's to calm him. "Shh... shh..."

something in lucian snaps, his voice breaks and he collapses against sylus's shoulder in sad sobs. "i scared, papa. please stay, please."

sylus feels the weight on the corners of his lips as he teeters to tears himself. he nods then, sighing in defeat. although, he was fairly certain that even without the tears, without the pranks, sylus would always find a way to say yes.

"Alright now, alright," he shushes, rocking him side to side and planting a kiss to his wet nose. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here."

"Papa—" Lucian cries. Just that— papa, papa, papa— over and over, like he'd been running from a monster. Now seeking refuge, comfort, and safety in him.

Sylus clicks his tongue, swallowing repeatedly keeping himself from crying still. He rubs lucian's heaving back, drawing slow circles to match with his breath. He hums a tune into his temple, letting his broken melody aid his fluttering heart.

It won't be easy, it will never be easy, leaving home. But he swears, he will do everything to make it easier for Lucian. And if that means staying for tonight, then he will stay.

—

this got away from me again hehe thank you for sending in this ask, reading & thinking about the twin babies! have a wonderful, wonderful day, anonnie!

✧˚ ⋆｡ read two birds on a wire here | read more with the little twins here || more sylus thoughts ✧˚ ⋆｡

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cutehoons02 · 12 hours ago

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Make be mine

*pairing: frat emo-boy hybrid deer Heeseug x popolar girl

*trope: Roomates to hates to lovers

*synopsis: When you, a bright but impulsive student, agree to share the apartment with a dark-eyed and gloomy-looking hybrid deer, Heeseung, you know it’s going to be an intense experience. But you can’t imagine how. He is introverted, controlled, with an animal instinct that desperately tries to keep at bay. You're the opposite: human, daring, stubborn… and curiously attracted by that mysterious aura that Hee carries with her. Between daily squabbles, shared nights, growing jealousies and an imprinting that risks to bind them forever, the boundary between play and desire becomes ever thinner.

*tags: A lot of tension, the protagonist is curious and cheeky with Heeseung, they have to share the bed, Heeseung is an innocent fake a little shy and grumpy at first, fluffy moments, lots of kisses, pacifiers, fingering, unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) First time Heeseung knot, statement, pet names (small) (Hee, good boy) +18

(English is not my native language)

12.2k (🦌)

'You’ll be sharing the room with a human.'

Hee had squinted when they’d told him that at the admin office. He’d thought it was a joke. Or a mistake. Why on earth would they put a hybrid—a deer, no less—in the same room as a human girl?

But the housing clerk hadn’t even looked up from her papers. She just shrugged.

'There’s a shortage of single rooms. It’s temporary. Deal with it.'

So he’d dealt with it. More or less.

He had arrived the night before, tossed a hoodie on the bed (yes, just one bed), and put his headphones on, staring at the ceiling, thinking of the ridiculous number of things that could go wrong.

But he hadn’t expected you.

You, bursting through the door all theatrical, mouth already forming a complaint, eyes sweeping dramatically across the room, widening as you spotted the single bed.

And then—bam. You bumped right into him.

The contact. Your scent. Your warm skin.

He looked down at you. Liquid, mischievous eyes. Furrowed brows, soft lips, backpack still slung over one shoulder, and a suitcase bigger than you. And an expression... confused, but intrigued.

She’s cute, was his first thought. Cute in that dangerous way. The kind of girl who looks innocent, but knows exactly what she’s doing.

You looked up at him and froze, like you’d just seen some rare, beautiful animal. Which, technically, was true.

“Oh. Sorry. I... I didn’t see you.”

Hee gave a small nod, already feeling the heat rising to his ears. Those damn spotted ears always gave him away.

“It’s fine. Uh... there’s only one bed, but I’ll get another this week. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Didn’t mean to make myself uncomfortable either, he thought. But it’s too late now.

You nodded, but seemed more interested in him than in the logistics. And when you kept staring—too long—he exhaled through his nose and turned to face you.

“Want a photo?”

Your little smirk was a knife disguised as a caress. “Nah. Don’t need one. I’ll see you every day anyway, right?”

He dropped onto the beanbag with a what-kind-of-human-did-I-get expression and started chewing on his hoodie string—a nervous habit that kicked in whenever he tried to play it cool.

And as he watched you, he realized he’d been right: there was nothing innocent about you.

The way you looked at him. The way you moved. The way you smiled with just one side of your mouth.

There was something about you... shameless, but well-disguised. And that drove him crazy.

“If you’ve got questions, just ask. I can read expressions—even human ones. And yours... is full of question marks.”

You pretended not to hear, adjusting the beanbag like you weren’t mentally jumping on him. Then, suddenly, you spun around, dramatic as ever:

“I’ve decided. I want to ask five questions!”

He laughed quietly, from the gut. And felt the knot of tension loosen a little.

There was something so ridiculous and funny about you that, for the first time, he almost felt... comfortable.

“You didn’t have any questions a second ago.”

“White lie. For a good cause.”

He sank deeper into the beanbag, one leg bent, the other stretched out. Hoodie string still between his teeth, faking nonchalance, eyes sharp and alert. Then he motioned with his hand.

“Go on. Shoot.”

"How do those ears stay upright? Are you controlling them right now?" you asked, staring at the white-and-brown-speckled ears.

Hee narrowed his eyes. “They’re muscles. And no, I’m not. They’re on natural alert.”

"So are you, like, wild in the woods, or do you feel okay around humans?" you asked, watching him chew on the hoodie string, thinking he looked pretty uncomfortable, or maybe just not used to human spaces.

“Depends. Around certain humans... I’m starting to relax.”

"Earlier, were you staring because you were looking for flaws or because you liked what you saw?"

Heeseung’s eyes widened. Silence. Long silence. Then:

“I was staring because you seemed dangerous. And I’m not very disciplined when it comes to dangerous things.”

Your heart did a messy little somersault. You no longer knew if you wanted to test him... or just let him bite you.

He went back to chewing the string. Slower now. But still watching you.

You’re the kind of trouble I’ve always avoided, Hee thought. But if you’re my mistake... I might just let it happen.

It had only been two days.

Two. Days and Heeseung already felt at his limit. You were… too much.

Too bold, too loud, too unpredictable.

A miniature storm, a human creature seemingly born to irritate him to perfection.

She doesn’t do anything like the others.She doesn’t walk—she floats. She doesn’t talk—she teases. And she looks at me like she already knows everything, like she can read beneath my skin.

And then there were your habits. Tidying up the bathroom while he was still in it. Humming quietly while reading your obscene novels. Eating strawberries on the bed with your fingers, leaving them sticky.

And at night? You moved like you were dancing in the sheets. Your scent—soft, feminine, dangerous—clung to the pillow. He’d slept with a hoodie over his head just to block you out. This room is a minefield with pink walls and the scent of peach and vanilla.

That evening, he went out to play basketball just to let off steam.

He ran harder than usual, sweated more than necessary, and pushed his breath until his thoughts finally shut up.

He came back with damp temples, a soaked shirt, and jumped straight into a hot shower. He needed to calm down.

Water. Silence. No sexy, chaotic girl one meter away and that’s exactly when it happened.

While he was pulling on his grey sweatpants—boxers still visible, skin still damp—the door clicked open.

“Hey, have you seen my—”

You. Standing in the doorway. Hair a mess and curious eyes.

“What the—!” Heeseung barked, jumping to the side, heart racing. His tail shot straight up, then froze in a weirdly stiff position.

His ears? Total alert mode.

“ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!” he growled, covering his chest in a mechanical, panicked gesture.

You raised your eyebrows and stared at him like you were watching a particularly interesting scene from a movie you didn’t want to pause.

Golden abs. Sculpted lines. Warm, still-damp skin. Black boxers just peeking above his waistband. A necklace stuck to the hollow of his chest.

And that tail? A perfect mix of tenderness and disaster.

Delightfully awkward. But so sexy, my knees are shaking.

“Do humans not knock anymore? That is something they teach at school, right?” he snapped, his voice rough and a bit unsteady.

You feigned innocence, with that familiar glint of mischief that drove him crazy.

“I just needed one thing. My skincare. Chill.”

You walked past him slowly, deliberately, and while you grabbed the bottle from the shelf, you leaned in. Way too close on purpose.

You inhaled quietly, almost silently—but he noticed. Oh, he definitely noticed.

“Mmmh… you smell like musk, amber, and… rain.” Your eyes sparkled. “Animalistic and sweet. Like you stepped out of a wild fairytale.”

Heeseung froze.

Your voice was low. Your gaze locked on his a flash of a predator disguised as a good girl.

“Out,” he said sharply. But his red ears, frozen tail, and eyes drifting toward your lips told a very different story.

You winked. “Sure, boss.”And giggled on your way out.

Half an hour later.

Heeseung left the room in silence. He had changed—but it was too composed. Too controlled. The problem was, he wasn’t calm at all.

This makes no sense. She’s human. She’s not even my type. But… the way she looks at me. The way she moves. The way she breathes.

She touches me without ever touching me. She’s like a scent that gets into my brain and won’t leave.

And then he saw you. Sitting on the bed, legs crossed, striped pink shorts. Short. Too short and oversized sleep shirt, but it lifted slightly at the sides, revealing smooth skin underneath. And in your hands? A book. One of those pastel-covered ones with scandalous titles.

No. No. No. You’re ruining me, Hee thought. And I’m already falling apart.

You looked up from your book. And caught him instantly, the way you looked at him. Like you were reading him, not the pages. Like you knew exactly how much you were driving him insane.

The room was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of a desk lamp left on.

The bed was just big enough for two people pretending they didn’t want each other.

You were leaning back against the headboard, The Deal open in your lap, bare legs stretched out—one bent carelessly, causing your sleep shirt to ride up just enough to reveal the soft curve of your hip.

Heeseung was lying beside you, wearing nothing but a wrinkled black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. His hair still damp from the shower, ears drooping a little from exhaustion, tail relaxed… but alert.

He couldn’t take it anymore, it had only been two days. Two, but this girl was chaos incarnate and that morning… that cursed moment in the bathroom…

Flashback.

He’d just finished his shower, towel over his head, boxers under gray sweats. He’d left the mirror fogged, feeling oddly vulnerable but strangely calm, when the door clicked open innocently.

It was you.

Your eyes locked on his still-wet abs, the droplets sliding down his chest.

Your gaze drifted down the golden skin, the waistband of his sweats hinting at Calvin Klein boxers underneath, and his tail frozen mid-lift.

He shot you a glare.

“Did no one ever teach you to knock? Or are you straight out of the Middle Ages?!”

“I just needed my night cream,” you answered, unfazed. “Also… oh my God, Hee. You smell like musk and rain. I swear, you could bottle that scent and sell it.”

You stepped closer. Brushed your fingers along his arm. Inhaled, softly.

Then, with a playful giggle: “Very… bedroom animal.”

Heeseung froze.

Was she flirting? Or is she just a completely unfiltered menace?

Why is my tail trembling?

Why did I dream of her curled up against me last night?

Back to now.

Hee couldn’t even focus on his phone. Your voice always distracted him—but tonight, especially…

“So, The Deal, huh?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

He was scrolling through TikTok, but every spicy fan art he saw made his brows furrow.

“You know it?”

“Saw it on the feed. Says it has… like, eight spicy chapters?”

“At least,” you answered proudly. “Wanna read it with me?”

“No thanks. I prefer sports anatomy textbooks.”

You laughed.

“You’ve already got the muscles, baby deer. Now you just need the emotional intelligence.”

He stared at you.

“Did you just say… baby deer?”

“Does it offend you?”

Hee nervously bit down on his hoodie string. A reflex. His thing.

Baby deer?! Who does she think she is? And yet… he didn’t move away. If anything, he shifted closer, onto his side.

“Show me those fanarts. People really post that online?”

You scrolled until you found one—an overly passionate illustration.

The couple tangled on a bed. Hands everywhere. Half-dressed. Eyes closed, tongues—

Hee frowned.

“Their… tongues. Are out. What exactly do you like about this?!”

“Everything. The contact, the tension, the repressed desire… the things left unsaid.”

“You’re all insane.” You moved even closer, book in hand.

“Want me to read you a part?”

“No.” You did it anyway. Your voice was a slow whisper. Hypnotic.

“He kissed her with a hunger that couldn’t be hidden. His body, all muscle and want, pressed into hers as his hands lifted her. Their mouths fit together like keys and locks.”

Heeseung blushed, he sat up, shooting you a sharp look.

“This isn’t healthy. Reading stuff like that isn’t healthy.”

“And yet you like it. I can see it. Your tail’s giving you away.”

He turned away, muttering something under his breath. You giggled and, in a velvet-soft voice:

“Want me to tie you up, Hee?”

Time stopped. He spun around, eyes wide. His tail thumped against the mattress. Ears alert.

“WHAT?!”

“You heard me. You. Me. Knot.” Silence. A deep breath.

“You’re not my type.” You clutched your chest dramatically.

“Oh no. My ego. Shattered. A divine creature with pointy ears just broke my heart.” You flopped back with a theatrical sigh.

He glanced at you sideways—and in his eyes, a flicker. A crack in the armor.

She’s not my type. But when she talks like that… when she looks at me like that… why does it feel like I’m already hers?

He moved closer. Slowly. Positioned himself over you, arms bracing his weight. His knees on either side of your hips. His eyes locked on yours.

“You want to be tied up?”

“Only if you do it.”

His hands settled on your waist.

“You’re… soft,” he whispered.

“Wanna touch more?”

“…Yeah.”

He only realized he’d said it out loud after the words slipped. He leaned down. Nuzzled into your neck. A slow inhale. A gentle lick. His hips pressed to yours.

“You smell like peaches. And… danger.”

You laughed softly. “And you smell like: I’m losing control but pretending I’m fine.”

Hee buried his face in your neck, his hair tickling your skin.

If you tease me one more time… I’m not responsible for what happens.

It had been almost two months since classes started.

Two months of sharing a room with Heeseung — the moodiest, messiest, and unintentionally sexy deer hybrid on campus.

Two beds. One fate.

The second bed had arrived after a week.

You’d argued, like literal children, over which one was “your” bed.

You insisted on keeping the one you’d shared during the first nights.

Heeseung had growled through clenched teeth (a ridiculous sound for a half-deer, honestly), and ended up dragging himself to the new bed, shooting you a dark glare as he curled up under the covers.

“You’re insane. Sleep over there. Don’t invade my side tonight.”

And yet… he slept.

You didn’t, six nights out of seven, you waited until his breathing slowed.

Then you’d sneak into his bed, cold legs sliding under his. Curling up and in his sleep… he’d always pull you close.

Of course, mornings came with consequences.

“This is a full-on violation of personal space,” he’d grumble, trying to peel your arm off him.

“Do you think I’m your personal heating pad just because I’m half-cervid?!” And while you got up with a smug little smile, he’d add, grumpily:

“You claim to be independent. Pretend to be a femme fatale. But at night, you cling like some overly affectionate leech.”

You’d laugh. Always. You loved teasing him. All day long: you tickled him with your pencil during study sessions, hid his beloved emo rings, and stole his oversized hoodies just to force him to stay in a t-shirt while you blatantly stared at those golden abs that never got to touch you.

Why not? Why didn’t he touch you? He’d said you weren’t his type.

That phrase had lodged itself in your brain like a pushpin.

But you knew you were the right type for anyone with a pulse.

Even for an emo deer-boy who gnawed on his hoodie strings and acted too cool for spicy books.

So that night, you had a plan. If Hee wouldn’t look at you the way you deserved, then you’d make sure he had no choice but to look.

You’d been in the bathroom for over an hour. Perfume. Light makeup.

That tiny black skirt barely brushing your thighs, a white camisole with a little bow — sweet enough, but just suggestive enough. A cropped leather jacket that framed your shoulders.

Shiny black boots. Hair long. Perfect.

When you opened the door, Hee was sitting at the desk. A muscle anatomy textbook was open in front of him. Glasses on. Ears drooped. Tail still. But as soon as the scent of cherries and amber filled the air, he froze.

His nose twitched. Nostrils flared. A subtle shiver ran down his spine.

God. That perfume. The one she wears when… she wants attention. And I… I’m a damn fool because I love it.

When he turned around, he saw you. Admiring yourself in the mirror by the door, adjusting the hem of your skirt. You were a vision. Sensual, free, in complete control. You caught his gaze for a second. Eyes locked. That wicked little smile.

“Well? Do I look good?”

Hee blinked. Mumbled something.

“Hmm? Didn’t hear you, Hee.” He dropped his eyes.

“I said… You look like a fanfiction protagonist. The kind who always ends up heartbroken.”

You laughed — delightfully bold.

“Oh, really? And here I was, heading out on a date.”

He stiffened. Slowly turned from his chair. His tail—motionless a second ago — started wagging. Gently. Then harder. You bit your lip. Perfect.

“With whom?”

His voice was flat. Too flat.

“A guy from the swim team.”

Heeseung scoffed and turned back to his book.

“Wow. How original. One of those puffed-up pecs, zero-braincell types.”

A pause. Then: “Have fun.”

“Oh, I will.” You stepped toward the door. “And don’t wait up. I might not come back tonight.”

Silence. Then, a sharp grunt. Low. Animal. Frustrated. As the door clicked shut behind you, Hee slammed the book closed, ran a hand down his face, and muttered through clenched teeth:

“Stupid… tease… with that tiny little skirt… if anyone puts their hands on her, I swear I’ll—” His tail was still wagging—a chaotic, jealous, panicked mess.

She’s not my type… so why do I dream of her every night? Why do I reach for her when she’s not there? Why do I miss her scent before she’s even gone?

Heeseung was still awake.

He was “studying,” at least on paper.

In reality, he’d spent the past two hours chewing on his hoodie string, those oversized glasses slipping down his nose, sweatshirt sleeves pulled over his hands, killing evil creatures online with Jake and Jungwon.

The only things filling the room were curses and the occasional burst of laughter and, every now and then, those too-long silences, when Hee would stare blankly into space, fingers resting on the controller, your scent still burned into his brain.

Cherry. And amber. Damn it.

Where the hell did you think you were going, dressed like that?

When you’d said “I might not come back tonight,” he’d laughed.

A little.

Faked it.

Now it was 1:30 a.m. and you still weren’t back. He’d cracked. Looked you up on Instagram. Just one story. A mediocre dish, a corner of the Han River, and then… You. Sitting, eyes downcast. Too beautiful. Too close to that idiot with the damp hair, trying to look sporty.

Did he touch her? Put a hand on her thigh? Try to kiss her?

He bit his cheek. Hard enough to taste blood.

Then — finally — the door opened and that scent came back.

Sweet. Intoxicating.

You.

He pretended not to notice. Kept laughing with Jake. Scoffed a half-hearted, “Come on, just hit him in the head, Jungwon,” even though he wasn’t even looking at the screen.

You saw him instantly. Legs crossed on the swivel chair, oversized hoodie, giant headphones, half-eaten ramen by the keyboard. Eyes sparkling, like nothing was wrong.

Pfft. Still awake. And then he lectures me, huh.

You walked over, arms crossed. Tired smile, sharp gaze.

“Not in bed yet?” you asked, tilting your head.

He didn’t answer.

Without warning, you pulled off his headphones — way too big for his deer-like head. Hee flinched, looked at you… and in those eyes was that mix of anxiety, relief, irritation — and something much deeper.

“What are you doing here?” he asked quietly.

You stared back. One brow raised.

Arms crossed, standing just inches from him.

“Does this look like the time to still be livestreaming while your brain cells evaporate? You know what’ll happen if you sleep through anatomy again tomorrow? More notes on your record. And I won’t let you copy mine.”

Jake and Jungwon chuckled through the headphones.

Hee mumbled something, but he wasn’t really listening to you.

He leaned in a little.

Too close. Too quiet. Then, barely brushing your ear:

“You stink.” You whipped your head toward him, face close, eyebrow raised, voice like a blade:

“Excuse me? Want to say that again?”

He smiled. That classic fake-innocent smile, the faint dimple, eyes lowering to hide how intense they were. He brought a hand to his nose. Inhaled. Slowly.

“You smell like something that isn’t you.”

A sudden, razor-sharp silence. Jake and Jungwon went quiet a click, like someone turned the emotional volume of the room all the way down.

Heeseung turned fully toward you, eyes glistening. Dark.

“Did he touch you?”

Your eyes widened. Disbelief.

“Sorry, what?”

“That swimmer guy.” His voice was commanding, but cracked with insecurity. “Did he touch you?” You didn’t answer. You just looked at him. Caught between confusion and something deeper.

And then he stood. Slowly. Not all the way, but just enough to seem taller, heavier, more… predatory. He leaned in slightly and in a low, guttural voice, almost a growl:

“Go change. Now.”

“…Excuse me?”

“I don’t want to smell that anymore. Not on you. Not in this room. Not in that bed. Got it?”

For the first time, you felt small.

Not weak — but diminished. Dwarfed by something bigger. Raw tension, feral and unfiltered. That tail that wasn’t wagging anymore. Dilated pupils. Tight jaw.

You swallowed. Slowly. Then turned, a sly smirk curling your lips.

“Mmh. What’s wrong, Hee? I’m not your type… but my scent only bothers you when it’s mixed with someone else’s?”

He bit his lip but said nothing because yeah — he’d just marked you.

With words.

Without even realizing it.

Or maybe, finally… on purpose.

He had won.

You admitted it with a dramatic sigh as you tossed your clothes into the washing machine and slipped into your pajamas.

The light tank top — the one that clung just enough to your chest.

The tiny shorts — barely there and then… his wrinkled grey shirt, still holding the scent of his pillow and the softness of too many nights spent sleeping too close.

If he’d won… why did it still feel like you were holding all the cards?

When you stepped out, bare feet on the wooden floor, the room was half-dark, lit only by the glow of the monitor. Hee was still turned toward the screen, headphones hanging around his neck, eyes dark and unfocused.

You approached. Gently rotated his chair and when he saw you — wearing his shirt, your scent beneath his, your bare legs, your gaze calm but daring...He shook his head.

Serious. Almost angry his voice low and rough: “Go. To. Bed.”

You smiled. Fearless and started walking… toward his bed. Slow, theatrical steps he didn’t react right away but as soon as your knee touched the sheets, he stopped you. His hand wrapped around your arm — instinctively.

“Your bed.” His voice was tenser now. Controlled. But fragile.

You giggled. His touch was light, but it burned on your skin.

“Oh, come on, Hee…” you whispered, a teasing smile on your lips.

You turned to face him, eyes wide and gleaming.

“You know I haven’t undressed for another guy in months, right?”

He clenched his jaw.

Let you go. But stayed there, standing, like you were some kind of threat.

“I… still feel everything.”

The words came out barely audible — a confession laced with frustration and truth.You raised an eyebrow.

“What’s wrong, Bambi?” you teased. “Jealous?” That one word: Jealous.

It was enough, Heeseung took a step toward you then another. Now he was too close, towering over you — tall, broad-shouldered, ears alert, tail still. He leaned down, his face inches from yours.

“Stop acting like a brat,” he murmured. The tone was sharp but his eyes… were chaos. You looked up at him. rose to your tiptoes.

Your hands slid under the hem of his hoodie.

“Then stop me.”

And before he could even process it, you pulled him toward you and kissed him. At first, it was just a touch. Your lips on his — soft, tentative a game but then…You felt him freeze.

Then give in.

His hands found your waist, his mouth trembled for a second then, slowly, moved with yours. His lips were soft, but uncertain you gave his lower lip a gentle nibble and he let out a low, muffled sound — almost a growl.

Then finally…His tongue he kissed you for real a deep, slow, consuming kiss. His hands slid just beneath the shirt — his shirt — and you could feel it: he was there.

Fully. Completely. Lost. You played with each other. You pulled him even closer. He pinned you against the edge of the bed, tongues exploring, testing, tangling like they never wanted to let go and then…He pulled away.

Stayed there. Breathing hard. Lips damp. Eyes dark as midnight.

“Don’t sleep with me,” he said, quietly.

You looked at him. Still breathless. Hands trembling.

“Heeseung…”

“Don’t sleep with me tonight.”

He said it, looking straight into your eyes, like an open wound he didn’t know how to hide.

Then, he turned away, switched off the light and you were left there.

Heart pounding.

Wearing his shirt.

And waiting for all the answers… that still wouldn’t come.

You were sitting on a blanket under a wooden gazebo on campus.

A cup of herbal tea in your hand, legs crossed, and the cool afternoon air carrying the scent of freshly cut grass.

T/l had her hair pinned up messily, a strawberry lollipop in her mouth, an oversized sweater that showed off her bare shoulders, a white skirt, and the faint scent of Sunghoon that somehow you could almost smell too.

“So you’re telling me… he hasn’t looked at her in a week?” she asked with a laugh.

You nodded, frustrated. “Nada. Not even a single insult about the human race or a passive-aggressive jab. He’s ice cold.”

T/l licked her lollipop. “Classic. He kissed you, so now he’s panicking.”

“But why? He likes me, it’s obvious. And anyway… it was a kiss, not a lifetime contract.”

She looked at you over the rim of her cup. Then lowered her voice:

“For a hybrid, it can be.”

Your eyebrow rose. You leaned in a little. “Wait. Explain. What’s this imprinting thing?”

T/l gave a softer smile. “Imprinting is… how to put it… the moment a hybrid’s body recognizes someone as theirs. Usually it happens between hybrids, because there’s instinctive compatibility. But sometimes… rarely, it happens with humans too.”

“And if it happens with a human?”

“It’s a mess. But also beautiful. Sunghoon imprinted on me.”

She showed you her wrist: a faint mark, like a pink shadow. “It’s like their body saying: this one is mine, I can’t ignore her anymore. And when it happens, often… comes the knotting.”

You swallowed slowly. “Okay. T/l. Now you have to explain this knotting thing properly.”

She laughed, then blushed a little. “I thought you’d heard about it from someone…”

“Never. Go all in. No mercy.”

She bit her candy and got comfortable, lowering her voice.

“Knotting is… a biological mechanism some hybrids have, especially those with stronger instincts. During sex, if the emotional bond is strong… and the instinct takes over… the hybrid’s penis can swell at the base, forming a knot. It’s meant to mark their partner. And to literally hold her together with him. You can’t separate for minutes. Sometimes for half an hour.”

Your legs involuntarily stuck together.

“You and Hoon…?”

She nodded, a bit embarrassed but smiling. “More than once. When it happens… it’s not like normal sex. It’s rougher. More intense. You hear the sounds, feel the vibrations in your chest, the need to stay inside even after it’s all over. It’s… like their bodies are repeating mine, mine, mine.”

You touched your lips, both uneasy and fascinated.

“Does it hurt?”

“The first time can sting a bit. But the body adapts in a weird way. Hybrids secrete a kind of natural lubricant during knotting. It’s a mix of pleasure and dizziness. You feel invaded. But you never want it to stop. Ever.”

“And them?”

“For them it’s a need. When they imprint… and knot… it’s like a drug. If you deny it, they suffer. But if you give in… they get addicted.”

“Wow.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. The thought of Heeseung in that situation hit you like a punch in the stomach.

“So if he knots me… I’m his.”

T/l looked at you seriously. “Yeah. Not just in bed. In your heart, too. You couldn’t touch anyone else. Not even he could. It would be like betraying each other physically. It’s primitive, but… it’s beautiful, if you trust him.”

Then she smiled again.

“Anyway… practical advice.”

“Tell me everything.”

“If you don’t want to end up with a mini-deer to take care of in nine months… take the anti-hybrid pill.”

You burst out laughing. “That’s a real thing?!”

“Oh yes. And trust me, it works. Hoon’s obsessed with knotting every chance he gets. I’m basically his human sedative.”

“Holy hell…” you sighed.

She laughed, then grabbed your hand.

“But if it scares you… don’t do it. Knotting isn’t a joke. If Heeseung did it, it’d be instinct. But also because he’s already decided you’re his.”

You stayed quiet for a moment.

Then whispered:

“I think I want it. But… I’m scared.”

T/l winked at you. “Then you’re already in trouble, sister.”

The rain drummed against the windows like nervous fingers. The thunder sounded like the beating of a heart too strong to stay in its place. You had just dried your hair and put on that gray hoodie of Heeseung’s—the one that smelled exactly like him: cherries, musk, skin, and something rough, primal.

When you came out of the bathroom, you found him there: hunched over the desk, pencil strokes sharp and restless. He was still studying muscles—a recent obsession—and had his glasses slid down his nose, hair falling to partly cover his speckled ears.

“Hey,” you said softly.

“Mhm. Hey,” he mumbled without turning around.

You bit your lip. There was a whole world you wanted to tell him, but you held back. It wasn’t the night for teasing. Or maybe it was, but not the way you usually did.

You settled on your bed, legs tucked under you, looking for something to watch, but your eyes kept drifting back to him every couple of minutes. To his broad back, the way his shoulder blades moved under his black hoodie, as if they held some restrained anger.

Then, without warning, you heard a “Fuck.”

Not too loud, but loaded.

You watched him get up, the chair scraping the floor. He went to the bathroom, washed his face—you could hear it—and came back. When he stepped out, his eyes fell on you. Or rather, on that hoodie.

“You’re officially stealing my entire wardrobe, huh?” he commented sarcastically, rubbing his neck.

You smiled faintly. “I like your style. And I love your scent… you stubborn hybrid.”

Heeseung grimaced but said nothing. He took a few steps, as if to head to his own bed, but stopped. That “fuck” still hovered on his lips, like he was battling something inside.

Then he turned and came to you.

He threw himself onto your bed.

Yours.

His hands gripped your thighs with confidence, spreading them with a single, natural, firm motion. He placed one of your legs on each side of his body, then let himself fall, his head resting on your belly, warm and heavy, as if it were his home. He set his laptop on your lower abdomen and opened Netflix.

You didn’t breathe for a few seconds. Your thighs were open, his face between your belly button and your chest, and his body stretched between your legs like it was the most natural thing in the world. He said nothing. But his tail—that damned tail—tapped softly, happily.

Like a moth, your hand moved. You touched his hair. Smooth, dark. Then his speckled ears, soft, trembling under your touch. You felt him relax beneath your fingers.

“Keep going,” he murmured, his voice muffled in his chest.

“You think I’m a mobile massage parlor now?” you teased him with a sweet, almost lullaby tone.

He laughed. A light, thin, human laugh. Then he moved up even closer, his face near your heart. One hand scratching the nape of his neck, the other caressing his cheek.

His skin was warm. Too warm.

For a moment, you thought he had fallen asleep, but his tail moved, alive, and his chest trembled when he spoke.

“I’m scared.”

Your hand froze. “Of what?” you asked softly.

A heartbeat of silence.

“Of myself. Of my hybrid side. Of you.”

Your eyes widened. “Of me?”

“Of your scent. It lingers on me. Burns my chest. And every night… every damn night… I just want to…” he stopped, clenching his jaw.

You brushed his ear with your nose, whispering: “Want to what, Hee?”

He lifted his face, his doe-like eyes dark and shiny. “I want to forget that you’re not one of us. That you’re human. That if I knot you… I’ll lose you. Or ruin you.”

Thunder exploded outside. But inside the room, the only things that echoed were your breath and his.

And you, with your head spinning and your belly warm, answered him with nothing more than a soft kiss on the forehead.

Heeseung looked confused. Sitting between your legs, his chest rising and falling too fast, his ears trembling forward, tense, and his tail moving frantically jerky behind him. He stared at you as if you were shining, as if he could not decide whether to adore you or run away. But then he took a step. Literal. He knelt between your hips and leaned over you, his nose touching your skin, and began to smell you. Plane. Hungry.

"Hee… What are you doing?" you whispered, with a smile. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, his face getting lost in your neck.

"I remember you. I hear you everywhere … on the neck, between the thighs, you are… you're so hot…" He kissed you softly under the ear, then further down, along the collarbone.

"Do you have any idea how crazy you are driving me? I hear everything. Even your smell changes when you get excited… " His hands rested trembling on your thighs, but it was his body that betrayed him: the veins under the skin, the nails little sharper, the muscles tense under that puppy shyness.

You shoved your fingers through his hair, and his ears lowered slowly, trembling. "You have no idea, right?" murmur. "Than you are when you're good … but also when you seem to be on the verge of losing control."

He stiffened. He looked at you with those dark, shiny eyes. "I never… knotted. Never made love like that. But with you, I hear things I don't understand. I want… I want to be inside you. But not only that. I want to let myself in, brand you with my perfume. Make you mine."

The tone was deeper. Crude. Wild. You gasped. He was talking to you in that rough voice that came from an instinct rather than a technique. You grabbed his sweatshirt and lifted it a little, letting a glimpse of the pale skin of his belly. "And what are you waiting for?" you murmur.

"Make me yours. Brand me. Fill me up, Hee. I want to be your first … and your favorite." He almost moaned, his tail wagged. He made you lie down with firm pressure on your belly, then he put himself on top of you, one knee sticking between your already hot legs. His sweatshirt still covered you, but you felt his erection press against you. His hands trembled, but he managed to slip under the fabric and meet your bare breasts. His fingers were cold, a contrast that made you wince.

"Fuck … even without a bra… these are all for me?" he whispered, his voice cracked. Then he stared into your eyes, more authoritarian. "Raise your arms. And no whims." You obeyed, giggling. "But how much you like to command, Hee…"

"Shut up." He took off your sweatshirt, sniffed it before throwing it away. "I want to hear from you tomorrow. You and your smell … mix with mine. No one else can touch you. Never."

Then he ducked. The tongue settled on your breast, the muzzle rubbed like a puppy seeking comfort and desire simultaneously. He began to suck you, lick you, play with his nipples with a rough tongue and delicate teeth, alternating worship and light bites. You grabbed him by the ears — soft, vibrating- and pulled them slowly, making him emit a downward, almost a gentle growl. "Still…" whisper. "Show me how much you want me, Hee."

Heeseung kept kissing your breasts with increasing hunger. He licked, sucked, nibbled at your turgid nipples as if they were nectar for him, while his hands caressed your hips with almost desperate impatience. His breathing became more labored, and every now and then he let out a choked groan, a downward, throaty sound — an animal sound, vibrating directly from his ribs. You instinctively rubbed against his knee, seeking clutch, and that gesture made him growl. Literally. A low, rough, deep sound that made his chest vibrate against yours.

"Little doe in heat…" he hissed, and his eyes became darker, shinier. "Do you know how cheeky you are? I don't know if it turns me on or if I want to put you in your place." "Why not both?" you giggled, and looked at him from below up, his eyes defiant. "It's so good to see you lose control…"

He bit his lip, his ears lowered with desire, his tail waving furiously behind him. His vehement, veinous hands slipped on your sides and squeezed you hard, as if to punish you. Then he ducked down, pulled down your pajama pants, and made a theatrical pout. "Panties already wet?" he laughed softly.

"Then, while pretending to look at the PC… were you thinking of me? Huh? Maybe already ready for my knot…" "Hee!" you admonished him, but the tone trembled, too excited to be credible. "Shut up…" he whispered, and with a firm gesture, he pulled off your panties, holding them for a moment between his fingers before throwing them aside. Then he lowered his face between your thighs. Its odoriferous glands, hidden behind your neck and near your temples-activated as soon as you smell your natural scent. That pure, excited smell of yours drove him crazy. A low sound escaped him, like a starving verse. His hands opened your legs, and he dived on you with his tongue as if he had found the center of his world.

"Mmmh… You're sweet…" he muttered between licks. "I want you… all…" His tongue became more precise, sharper. He sucked your clit hard, with rhythm. You screamed, arching your back as his hair tickled your belly and inner thighs, while her hot breath drove you as crazy as her lips.

"Hee! Oh God, yes… more! Want… I want more!" He barely lifted, his lips moist, his ears flickering. "You want everything? You want me to get bored?" He looked at you with that scary, sweet intensity. "Then get ready. You have to take my fingers. If you can… then maybe you can take my knot too. And become mine. Mine." You nodded, breathless, and spread your legs even more. When you felt his first finger come in, hot and thick, you moaned loudly. He looked at you as if you were revealing a secret, his mouth ajar, while his finger explored you slowly, and then with more pace.

"Feel how tight you are…" he whispered in a low, dark tone. "God, you are perfect. So wet for me…" He added a second finger and then began to pump into you with deep and decisive movements. You clung to the sheet, screaming his name as the pleasure overwhelmed you. And he degraded you with animalistic sweetness, kissing you between the legs and whispering to you: "Be good… I want to see you all shake before I give you everything. I want to hear you squeeze me, suck me inside you. Are you ready for me, baby?"

Without saying anything, he pushed a third finger into you. The enlargement was intense, his hot and thick fingers filled you with firm pressure that made you moan loudly. Your body instinctively arched, your thighs trembling under the growing pleasure. " I'm coming!" you gasped, clutching the sheet between your fingers. He giggled, lowering his face between your legs again. "Let me see. I want to watch you come for me. I want to feel your essence on my tongue…"

With his tongue, he began to lick you greedily, then gently bit your clitoris, making you wince. You grabbed his hair, pulling it, but he did not stop. He kept sucking on you, pushing his fingers inside you, until your body stretched all over and you moaned loudly, trembling as you came between his lips.

He did not stop even then. He licked you as if he wanted to dry you up, savor you to the last drop, his nose sunk against you, his ears trembling with pleasure. When he finally retracted, he slid his fingers out of your cunt and looked at them, wet, shiny.

He slowly brought them to your mouth, tasting you with a deep sigh. "God … you are my favorite flavor." You stared at him with wide eyes, still panting, while he picked up a handkerchief, and you both cleaned up with small, thoughtful gestures. Then, with almost tender attention, he put his pajama pants back on you, his fingers touching your skin with respect, and you threw a questioning, somewhat spoiled look at him.

"Not tonight …" he muttered, his voice broken by a thousand emotions. "I don't want to hurt you. I want to get to know you better. Inside, outside. Every part." "Hee … you look like a good boy now," you teased him sweetly, with a smile. He just laughed and hugged you from behind. He wrapped you with strong arms and then took off his sweatshirt, letting you feel the heat of his naked body against your back. His chest was solid, the warm breath caressing the nape of your neck. A shudder passed through you.

"I want you. Always, " he whispered. "But if I annoy you… I won't be able to stop anymore. I'm not a good guy. I'm just a guy who wants to protect you from himself." Then he began to move slowly against you. His pelvis rubbed your butt in a slow, painful petting. His hands gripped your hips with force, holding you still as his breathing became heavier, almost animalistic.

"Do you feel it?" he murmured in your ear, pressing his groin against you. Its member, hard and pulsating, pressed against your thin pants. "This is my control. But it's ending. And when that happens, you'll be mine." You giggled, barely turning your face to brush his cheek with your lips. "Then train yourself to lose it, Hee. Because I want you to take… all of me." His groan was smothered against your shoulder, and for a moment he trembled. The tail wagged loudly behind him, as he continued to move against you with maddening slowness.

It had been a few weeks since you had discovered each other. Since you had stopped holding back your desire. Now, every evening ended with the two of you wrapped up in the same comforter, with Hee curling up against your back, his tail occasionally brushing your thigh as he slept. Sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night and hold you tighter, whispering things half-asleep. And you would smile, even in your sleep.

One evening, with soft light filling your room and a fine rain tapping against the windows, he looked at you with a different kind of attention. Quiet. Then, as if facing a small fear of his own, he stood up and transformed.

His figure became leaner, muscles more elongated, his skin dappled with pale spots, ears larger, eyes even deeper and sweeter. And that tail... soft, alive, trembling.

"You're... beautiful," you whispered. "You look like something out of a poem. Something that shouldn't even exist. And yet here you are. With me."

Hee lowered his ears a little, as if shy. "I've never shown this to anyone like this... not for this long. I was always afraid of looking too different."

"But you are different… and that’s what makes you special," you replied, moving closer to caress his cheek, tracing the pattern of his spots with a finger. "And besides... I’m different too. Maybe too outspoken sometimes. Spoiled. But..."

You sat down next to him, legs crossed, eyes lowered. "Sometimes I act that way because... I didn’t get much love. Not at home, not anywhere. It’s easier to be loud than to let myself be seen as fragile."

He didn’t answer right away. He took your hand in his, fingers knotted and full of rings you had come to know well, and placed it over his chest.

"I, on the other hand, received a lot of love. A big, loud, affectionate family. But also full of expectations. They wanted me to stay an animal more often. They wanted me... wilder. But I wanted to try living like humans. I wanted to know what it’s like to have friends, to play, to study, to laugh."

He paused, then smiled. "And I’m glad I did. Because that’s how I met Jake, Hoon, Jay, Jungwon, Sunoo, Ni-Ki… and you."

Your throat tightened, but in a good way. You looked at him tenderly.

"Do you remember our first date?" you asked, breaking the emotion with a sly little smile.

He laughed, his ears twitching slightly. "The ramen by the Han River? And you burning your tongue on the first bite?"

"And you ordering extra spicy and then crying silently for five minutes!" you shot back, laughing.

"I wasn’t crying… they were controlled tears!" he said in a mock-serious tone, but then he laughed too.

"And then you taught me to play basketball..." you continued, raising an eyebrow. "If you can call it ‘teaching’ to throw a ball at the hoop while I clung to your arm laughing like a maniac."

"I knew you were a lost cause," he murmured, leaning in to brush your lips with a tender kiss. "But you were so happy that... I wanted to teach you just to see you laugh."

He held you tightly in his arms. You stayed there, in the silence of the moment, with the sound of rain and the beating of your hearts.

"You’re good for me, Hee," you whispered. "You make me feel like, for the first time… I’m truly seen."

"And you... make me feel free to be who I am. Whether that’s an awkward deer... or a boy who wants you so much, he’s afraid he won’t know how to stop."

You were there, in front of the mirror, the warm light of the room caressing your skin. A black skirt that hugged your hips, a white top that highlighted your curves, your usual brown leather jacket draped over your shoulders, and boots that softly clicked on the floor with every step. You snapped a few photos with your phone, partly for fun, partly to tease him.

Behind you, Hee was sitting on the bed. An oversized black hoodie with some unreadable writing, loose jeans hanging on his hips in that way only he could pull off, messy hair, and shiny rings on his fingers. He looked up at you with those long, glossy eyes—like a lovestruck and frustrated fawn.

“Are you… taking pictures of yourself for me?” he asked, half ironic, half serious. “I’m documenting how irresistible I am,” you replied, winking at him. “Because tonight, Hee, we’re going to our first university party. And you’re coming with me.”

He got up slowly, letting out a half-exasperated sigh. He went to his chair, grabbed a black coat with some emo details, and twisted it between his hands. “You know I’m embarrassed… there will be other hybrids. And humans. Who will be looking at you.”

“It’s just a party,” you murmured, fixing your hair. “And besides… you’ll be there. There’s nothing to look at that isn’t already yours.” That’s when he came closer to you. His hands slid behind you, slipping under your skirt, pressing firmly on your buttocks. He pulled you against him, his pelvis already hard, warm, nervous.

“I’d have much more fun… if we stayed home,” he whispered against your neck, his voice hoarse. “Just you and me. No other eyes on you.” You could feel him vibrating. His ears trembled slightly, his tail flicking behind. He was tense, sweet and sharp pheromones starting to wrap around you like an invisible veil.

“You’re so territorial, Hee…” you whispered, barely turning your head to look at him. “And you haven’t even knotted me yet.” He growled softly, just a little, against your skin. “Not yet. But I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

Then he pushed you against the wall next to the mirror. His hands grabbed you firmly, and he kissed you. A long, warm, open, hungry kiss. His tongue searching for yours, his teeth gently nibbling your lip with an animalistic delicacy.

“Mmh… I want more attention, Hee. I want tongue. I want those kisses of yours that make me forget where I am,” you whispered between breaths, with a bold tone. “Bold,” he muttered, burying his face in your neck. He licked you gently, then bit you right at the most sensitive spot, marking you with firm pressure. He couldn’t mark you with his scent from the knot… yet, but he still wanted everyone to know. You almost laughed, excited. “Are you afraid someone else will ask me before you do?” “I’m just… protecting what’s mine.”

You looked at him with a smirk. “Then do it well. Put me in my place, if you can.” He stared at you with those eyes that seemed darker, almost feral, but the blush on his cheeks betrayed him. He wasn’t ready to push you all the way yet, but he wanted it with all his being. “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” he murmured, stroking your inner thigh. “When I knot you… it won’t be for fun. It will be to keep you mine. Forever.”

The music pulsed through the walls of the house, a sensual electronic mix that made the floor vibrate. The strobe lights reflected off the glasses and the slightly tipsy smiles of the students. You, stunning in your little skirt and white top that accentuated your curves, were dancing with Hoon’s girlfriend, who was already swaying lightly with you, laughing and sipping from a plastic cup.

On the opposite side of the room, Hee stood with his hands in his pockets, his dark hoodie a bit too warm for the crowded space, his deer ears trembling faintly.

Sunghoon watched him from above the rim of his glass, then raised an eyebrow. 'Brother… if you keep looking at her that way, you’ll tie her up with your gaze.'

Hee didn’t laugh. “It’s not funny.”

'Oh, but it is.' Sunghoon patted his shoulder. 'Look at my girl. Bored with me, but knotted. No idiot can try anything. But you…' He turned to stare at the dance floor. 'You left the door wide open. It’s obvious some other curious male wants to come in.'

Hee growled softly but said nothing.

Meanwhile, a boy approached you. Tall, with feline eyes—a hybrid, probably wolf or tiger. His scent was spicy, different from Hee’s sweet and woody perfume.

-Are you new around here?- he asked, coming close enough for you to feel the heat of his breath.

You smiled politely. “No, just not very interested in parties.”

-Well, then it’s lucky you’re here tonight. You know… you’re incredibly beautiful. You have a special energy. I can’t take my eyes off you.- He leaned in, his mouth a breath away from your ear. -I’d like to find out if beneath that good-girl act there’s someone who knows how to have fun… even off the dance floor.-

You were about to reply with a sharp comment when you felt something familiar: a firm hand pressing on your lower back, cold with rings. A second later, your body was yanked back against a warm, tense chest.

Heeseung.

His scent enveloped you immediately—sweet, musky, intense, with an animal undertone that made your head spin. His breath was deep, tense.

“She’s mine,” he said quietly, without even looking at the other boy. His eyes were only for you. The other hybrid took a half-step back, hands raised.

-Hey… okay. Chill, bro.- He disappeared right after.

You turned, still with your hands on Hee’s chest. “Hey,” you gently scolded. “What’s all this?”

“Stop acting like a brat.” His ears twitched slightly, and his tail flicked.

“Brat? I was just dancing. He was the one flirting with me.”

“And the only guy allowed to flirt with you… is me.”

You looked him straight in the eyes. “But you don’t know how to flirt with me, Hee.”

He frowned. “What?”

“You don’t know how to tease me. You don’t know how to play. You’re just a jealous deer.”

His face stiffened, then he turned abruptly. “Then watch and learn.”

He took a step toward a group of girls, but you didn’t give him even a second. You grabbed his wrist and pulled him back hard. Then you kissed him.

It wasn’t a sweet kiss. It was yours. Tongue, teeth, hands in hair. His breath caught against your mouth, and you heard him moan softly, trembling under your fingers.

His pheromones exploded like an invisible wave, mixing with yours. Some people turned to look. Sunghoon, from afar, raised his hands as if to say “finally.”

When you broke apart, your eyes sought his, your forehead against his.

“I kissed you in front of everyone,” you whispered. “That means I’m yours. And you’re mine.”

Hee looked shaken, his mouth reddened, ears lowered. He looked at you as if he couldn’t believe he had you.

Then you added, in a softer voice against his ear: “And I want to be knotted. By you.”

It was like flipping a switch. The low, animalistic growl that came from his chest made your legs tremble. His fingers squeezed your hips as his breathing became more uneven.

“Let’s go home,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

“I want to go home too,” you replied.

He grabbed your wrist urgently, never taking his eyes off you. And without another word, you left the party behind, amid glances and whispers.

When you returned home, the door hadn’t even closed behind you.

Hee gently but firmly pushed you against the wall. His hands, ringed and strong, grabbed your hips as if he needed to make sure you were real, that you were there—his. His breath was warm, restless, his forehead pressed against yours.

“It’s your fault,” he growled in a low, rough tone that almost vibrated in his throat. His deer ears trembled slightly, and his tail flicked nervously behind him. His pheromones were everywhere, enveloping, thick in the air. “My aura... my hybrid part... is exploding. And there you are, all perfect, with your little red panties, like a cheeky brat...”

You lightly pulled his hair, lifting your chin, eyes sparkling, voice cheeky. “Are you really sure that’s a problem?”

“Stop it...” he whispered, but it wasn’t a real warning. It was a plea.

His hand quickly slid under your skirt and stopped just beneath the waistband of your panties. He could feel how wet you were. His gaze darkened, deepened. He smiled crookedly, dangerously.

“So fragile down here, and so cheeky with your mouth...” he murmured.

He yanked your skirt off, ignoring your fake protests. When he saw the red lingerie set, his eyes widened and he whispered as if discovering a secret: “You wore this for me, didn’t you? You know red drives me crazy…”

He knelt before you, his nose just inches from your warm skin, and his face rested against the fabric of your panties. He took a deep, slow breath, like an animal that found its place. His scent glands pulsed against your bare thighs, and he trembled slightly.

“God, your scent... it destroys me. It’s only yours and mine now. No one else’s.”

With his teeth, he took the edge of your panties and slowly slid them down, with almost ferocious patience. He kissed your inner thigh, leaving small bites, occasionally murmuring something that sounded like half a prayer, half a threat.

He stroked you lightly with one finger, just on your clitoris, and you looked at him, moaning softly, grabbing your top and pulling it down yourself, revealing the matching bra.

“Good girl...” he whispered. “You’re all mine tonight. Actually, from now on.”

He picked you up in his arms, with a strength you’d never felt from him before, and carried you to the bed. He laid you down, his knees on either side of your thighs. His tongue made slow fiery circles on your body. When he reached your center, his fingers moved with confident patience.

“You’re so hot... so ready. And I...” He raised his gaze, his ears trembling wildly. “...I can’t stop anymore.”

“Hee...” you gasped. “Keep going...”

“You deserve it... every inch of my control you’re destroying.”

He penetrated you with two fingers, strong and slow, while licking you fiercely and attentively. Your hips moved on their own against him, and every time you moaned, he moaned with you.

His breath was warm, rough, and when he rose over you, finally shirtless, bringing your forehead to his, he whispered against your lips:

“I want you... I want you madly. I want to sink inside you. Tie you. Fill you. Make you mine in every way. Inside. Outside. Forever.”

You grabbed his hips, naked beneath him, looking at him with watery eyes and short breath. And you whispered:

“Then do it. Take me. Tie me. Make me yours.”

And that’s when Hee stopped holding back.

He moaned loudly, biting his lip, as his hybrid form fully manifested—trembling ears, wild tail, and a primal desire pushing him closer and closer to losing control.

You pulled down his pants, then his boxers, leaving him naked and hard, his erection taut and throbbing. You looked at him as if savoring the most anticipated feast of your life.

“Are you ready, Hee?” you whispered in a sweet but sharp tone. “Ready to get dirty for me? To lose control? Because I’m ready to take all of you.”

He ran a hand through his hair, visibly nervous but no longer awkward. It was as if he was standing at the edge of a cliff he wanted to jump off.

“This is the first time that… that I want to tie someone,” he said softly. “And the first time that… I feel like I can’t hold back. Did you take the anti-hybrid pill?”

You nodded, looking him straight in the eyes. “Yes. And I want you to do it. All of it.”

He trembled visibly. His gaze flickered between adoration and need. But he still didn’t move, as if he needed one last confirmation, or maybe… reassurance.

You brushed his side gently, then placed a light kiss on his swollen, warm, pulsing “grip.” “Everything will be fine, Hee. I want you just as you are. Wild, tender, dirty. Mine.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. “I don’t want to hurt you…”

“You won’t. I want to feel you inside me. I want you to lose control, with me. You don’t have to hold back.”

His body trembled with emotion, but his gaze was steady, intense. He moved closer to you, aligning his body with yours, and for a moment you stayed there, skin against skin, hearts beating like tribal drums.

“Then let me… lose myself in you.”

Your fingers wrapped around his hard, throbbing member, guiding it slowly toward your wet center. You dragged it just over your clitoris, rubbing it with slow, deliberate strokes. He moaned softly the moment he felt it, breath broken, ears trembling. The heat of your skin was burning him.

“Tease my lips… slowly…” you murmured, eyes fixed on his.

Hee obeyed, pushing only the mushroom tip between your vaginal lips, brushing against you, letting his pearly fluid mix with your already warm juices. Then he made small thrusts, brief but loaded with tension, as if every movement was a whispered prayer through clenched teeth.

“Ah… Hee…” you gasped, your hands rising to grab his chubby, sensitive ears. You tugged them gently.

He moaned but immediately warned you with a muffled growl: “Stop it, or I’ll show you how dangerous a deer can be.”

His voice was hoarse, dark, a thread of control about to snap. But you didn’t stop. You smiled mischievously, and it was that smile that made him lose balance.

With one fluid, hungry motion, he pushed fully inside you.

You screamed, pleasure crashing over you like a sudden warm wave. Your legs tightened around his hips, as if never wanting to let him go.

“Hee... you’re… all in…” you gasped, your head falling back.

You felt him swollen, hard, warm, already filling you with his pulsing excitement inside your pussy. It was so deep you could feel yourself trembling inside. He gasped with his forehead resting against your neck.

“You’re so tight…” he murmured, voice broken by ecstasy. “My beautiful girl... you’re all mine, right?”

You nodded, scratching the nape of his neck with your nails. “All yours. Move inside me. I want to feel every part of you.”

At first, he moved slowly, with short, shy thrusts, as if making sure you were okay.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, voice thin and tense.

“No… I want more,” you whispered, then louder: “Give me everything, Hee. Push hard. I want to come again. Tie me. Break me.”

Something in him ignited. His ears pricked up, tail whipped fast, sharp. His eyes darkened, and in an instant he was no longer the clumsy, shy deer. He was a hybrid—feromones and instinct, flesh and desire.

He grabbed your hips and started thrusting hard, pounding into you, hitting deep, deeper and deeper.

“Yes… yes… fuck, Hee, there…” you screamed, voice broken, strangled. “You’re driving me crazy… you’re filling me up, damn it, don’t stop…”

He moaned with every thrust, breath ragged, animalistic, as he leaned over you, hips smashing into yours with growing force.

“You’re so hot…” he growled, “so wet… I’m losing it… I want to fill you, tie myself inside you, want no one else to ever have you…”

And then—with a deeper thrust than the others—he hit your G-spot. You screamed his name, trembling, eyes wide open.

“Yes… there… Hee… there! I’m… I’m gonna—fuck, yes!”

“What’s this, my good girl feeling heat inside, hmm?” he whispered with an emo-boy smirk, voice thick, as he kept pounding you with slow but powerful strokes. “Can’t think anymore, huh? Did I melt your brain, baby?”

“Yes… yes, damn it… you melted me completely. Keep going. Never stop.”

The heat you felt inside wasn’t just desire: it was something primal. Alive. Pulsing. It was Hee’s body heat claiming you, inch by inch, as if he was writing his name inside you with every thrust.

“Do you feel it?” he murmured, his hoarse voice in your ear. “It’s my heat… my cock making you mine.”

And you felt it. You felt his member sliding deeper and deeper, as if it would never end. You felt your belly react, stretching slightly with every hit, every thrust that hit you full on. And then you felt it: the knot. That living, sensitive mass swelling slowly, at first like a gentle pressure, then increasingly invasive, visceral.

“Hee…” you gasped, breath broken. “I-it’s happening… I feel it… it’s swelling…”

“Shh… let it in,” he whispered with that fake bad boy tone, just cracked by a tremor of animal emotion. “Let me tie every part of you.”

His thrusts grew faster, deeper. His hips hammered you with growing force, and as he moved, he degraded you in that way only he could: sweet voice but loaded with lust, sharp as a thin blade.

“Look how you take it… so tight. A good girl, but with a pussy begging to be filled. What is it, do you like being so full?”

You stammered, heat rising to your throat. “It’s… too much… it’s hot, Hee, you’re… you’re stretching me… inside…”

“Oh, we’re not done yet,” he murmured, taking one of your legs and placing it on his shoulder. Deeper now, tighter.

“Let’s see if you really can be… my good girl,” he growled softly, “the one who takes it all, even the knot. All the way in.”

You felt his knot pulse more and more firmly, alive inside you. It was locking you, nailing you, binding you. And his cock kept filling you, slow but relentless, in a gesture that meant more possession than sex.

Then he took your hand in his and brought it to your belly. The skin tight. Warm. Vibrant.

“Do you feel it?” he whispered with a small smirk. “It’s right there inside. My knot. It’s binding you to me… and you want it, you want it bad.”

“Yes…” you almost shouted, breath broken by rising pleasure. “I want to come… I want to come with you inside… I want to come on your cock…”

He looked at you with dark, feverish eyes. And that crooked emo boy smile spread across his lips.

“Look how you’re trembling. You’re so beautiful when you lose control. So good when you let me fuck you.”

Then he lowered his free hand, and with his thumb he started torturing your clitoris, slow but firm circles, wet with your own juices. His hip thrusts grew rougher, hungrier, while the knot swelled more and more.

“Come for me, damn it. I want to feel you gush on my cock. Fill me, baby. Dirty the sheets for me.”

It was too much. You melted against him with a scream that almost emptied your lungs. Your juices flowed hot and liquid around his cock trapped inside you, and you felt every contraction, every spasm, as his knot pulsed, swollen inside your belly. He was binding you, marking you, loving you in the most animal and true way.

Hee trembled, panting over you, then looked at you as if he couldn’t believe what he was experiencing.

“You’re amazing… so full…” he murmured, kissing you fiercely. “Your belly is swelling thanks to me. You’re mine.”

His thrusts, initially chaotic, grew slower… but so deep they tore a broken moan from you. It was as if Hee was learning your body step by step, discovering where to press, how to sink in to make you truly tremble.

“It’s too much…” you gasped, clutching him, “…but I want to feel full of you.”

He lowered his gaze, dark eyes framed by long lashes, and smiled with that typical fake-innocent look. Then he shook his head, scattering your thoughts with a few softly whispered words:

“So good when you beg. You’re my dirty girl, the one who knows what she wants… and now she wants me.”

He cupped your face in his hands, looking at you with a tenderness that only fueled your excitement more. But behind that sweetness, there was a wild desire breaking every dam. He leaned toward you, voice hoarse:

“You don’t know how much I dreamed of seeing you like this. Open for me, ready to take everything… even my wildest side.”

His thrusts grew hungrier, breath heavier. And when he slid one of your legs over his shoulder, you felt completely exposed, vulnerable and powerful at the same time. He moaned softly, almost choking on his words:

“I want you… all of you. I can’t hold back anymore.”

Then, with a decisive movement, he pushed all the way in. A low moan escaped his lips as his body trembled and the knot locked inside you, filling you completely. You moaned, your head thrown back, while a warm wave coursed through your entire belly.

It was as if he was writing his name inside you.

Hee bent over you, his sweaty forehead brushing yours, and whispered, voice breaking:

“You’re… incredible. So tight… so mine. I never want to let you go.”

Your body trembled, skin on fire, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. You clung to him, to his shoulders, to his voice.

“Hee… you’re tying me to you… I can feel it… inside.”

“You are,” he whispered, kissing you through your gasps of pleasure. “And you couldn’t be more beautiful.”

He stayed there, still inside you, while the knot pulsed slowly, marking every beat of his bond with you. His forehead rested on your shoulder, and he kissed your collarbone with adoration. No rush. No distance. Just the two of you, entwined in a silence that said everything.

Then, when his breath steadied and the knot slowly loosened, he stroked the inside of your thigh gently, almost worshipfully. He looked at you, pupils still dilated, and whispered in a soft voice:

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever touched.”

He smiled tiredly, eyes sweet but still burning.

“Now sleep, love. I’ll take care of you.”

And as he held you tight, you truly felt there was nothing to fear. He was there. With you. For you. And, for the first time, completely yours.

The morning light filtered through the poorly drawn curtains, and it was the gentle tickle of his nose against your neck that fully woke you up. Hee was curled up against your back, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist as if he truly feared you might disappear at any moment.

His deer ears trembled softly against the pillow, still sensitive and damp from that hybrid part that had exploded in intensity the night before. You could feel his warm, close breath. And when you slowly turned around, with a small smile on your still-tired lips, you found his eyes waiting for you.

Big, liquid eyes, with that shy Bambi-like reflection — but inside shone something more: adoration. And a little fear.

His cheeks immediately flushed red, as if the perfectionist Hee had returned — the one who remade the bed twice and blushed from a prolonged look. But you ruffled his hair gently, and he pouted adorably, shrugging.

“How are you?” he asked in a low voice, almost a whisper.

You giggled, still nestled under his arm. “I’m good... actually, great. It was wonderful to see you like that... lost. So yours. Feeling your knot inside me that... kept tightening more and more...”

The look you gave him made him almost moan from embarrassment, but also from the memory that phrase had awakened in his senses.

Hee held you tighter, if possible, and sighed. “Maybe the administration was right to pair us for the dorm.”

You turned, eyes half-closed and one eyebrow raised. “Really? Because, excuse me, you hated me at first.”

He lowered his gaze, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “You were cheeky. Curious. Always in the middle of my things...”

“But?”

“But now...” He bit his lip, his ears trembling again. “...deep down, I love you.”

You were momentarily speechless, then poked him with a finger on his bare chest. “Hey, are you serious?”

“Yes.” Hee’s voice was more confident, deeper. He was letting go of the more courageous part of himself. “And you? Do you feel something for me, or were you just curious to... test a hybrid?”

“Ah!” you burst out laughing. “That time I went out with that guy? It was just to make you jealous. It worked. But then... little by little, I fell in love with you. With your pout. Your trembling ears. How you blushed if someone said something dirty to you...”

He laughed softly, ran a hand through his messy hair, and teased you: “So you’re a manipulator. A good girl with the soul of a sentimental criminal.”

“Maybe.” You leaned in and kissed him at the base of his neck, where the night before you had left more than one mark. “But now I’m your manipulator, right?”

Hee sniffed the air near you, with that hybrid instinct he still couldn’t fully control. He looked at you with slow, glossy eyes, his voice lower, rougher, almost primal:

“It’s nice... to feel my scent on your body.”

The way he said it, with animal innocence but a possessive tone, made you squeeze your thighs a little from the shiver that ran down your spine.

You smiled. “And you... you’re so sweet when you become wild. You can’t hide anymore, Hee. You’re mine.”

He blushed again, but instead of answering, he slid slowly on top of you, his fingers already curious on your side. But that... was another story. Or maybe, another morning.

OMG, I hope you like it :) Only Ni-Ki and Sunoo are left to complete this series of Enhypen as hybrids!! I don’t know when I’ll have time for the others because I’ll have university exams, so I won’t have much time to post two one-shots a week :(

Enhypen hybird series!

taglist: @ourshin @7789995323567322 @tunafishyfishylike @kkamismom12 @stwrlightt @hearts4cheol @lovenha7 @in-somnias-world @heeseungxo @luvyeni @jayjw16enxp @jvngwni @jooniesbears-blog @gguk-n @cloudykim @enhaverse713586 @stormy1408 @jakesw82 @misssparklyprincess @bamguetismee @jaylajakey @arclviie @strxwbloody @steddie-steddie @jungwoosbaey @laurenmia65 @tasnemluvs @lovellydisaster @simj4k3 @numnommz @sspidermanss @vixialuvs @smlbch @xylatox @ikeulove @nishikio

#enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfic #enhypen drabbles #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #lee heeseung #lee heesung smut #lee heesung x reader #lee heeseung imagines #enhypen heeseung #enhypen smut #enhypen hyung line #enhypen hard hours #enhypen headcanons

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riddlesrizzler · 2 days ago

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Jelly Cat

summary: you said you wanted a jelly cat characters: bf! mattheo. reader. mentions of theo and enzo warnings: none! word count: 1.1k

It had been a rough week-one of those weeks where nothing seemed to go right. You’d spilled tea on your favorite sweater, failed a potion that turned your eyebrows green for a day and a half, and your Care of Magical Creatures partner had bailed on you again. By Friday evening, all you wanted was to collapse into bed and not be perceived.

Mattheo noticed. He always noticed.

He wasn’t the best with emotions-not in the way you were. You wore your feelings like ribbons, tied delicately into your expressions and tone. But Mattheo? He kept his locked in a fortress behind his eyes. Still, when it came to you, he paid attention.

Which is why, as you lay curled up on the common room sofa, sniffling over your Transfiguration notes and hugging your pillow to your chest, Mattheo sat nearby, deep in thought.

“She’s been saying that word all week,” he muttered.

“What word?” Theo asked, upside down on the armrest of the couch, lazily flipping through a Quidditch magazine.

“Jellycat,” Mattheo said, frowning like it was some kind of riddle. “She told Pansy she wants one. She told Draco she used to sleep with one every night. She told me they make her feel safe. So-what the hell is a jellycat?”

Enzo, lounging near the fireplace and buttering a crumpet with his wand, perked up. “Is that like... a magical beast? Like a pudding that purrs?”

“No,” Theo drawled. “it’s like an enchanted kneazle. Don’t bring up third year again.”

Mattheo rubbed his temples. “I don’t care what it is. I just want to give her one. She’s sad. I hate it.”

There was a pause.

Then Enzo grinned. “What if we... made her one?”

Mattheo’s eyes narrowed. “Made her a... jelly cat?”

“Exactly,” Theo chimed in, catching on fast. “We charm jelly. Give it ears. A tail. Little paws. It purrs. It jiggles. It’s what she wants.”

Thirty minutes later, three of Slytherin’s most feared boys were sneaking into the Hogwarts kitchens, tiptoeing past sleeping house-elves and nicking every bowl of jelly they could find-raspberry, strawberry, even one suspiciously glowing lime.

Back in their dorm, Enzo sculpted. Theo transfigured. Mattheo supervised with the intensity of someone about to fight a dragon.

It was hideous. Absolutely horrendous. The thing had tiny licorice whiskers, two uneven blueberry eyes, and a tail that wobbled like it was drunk. But when Theo tapped it with his wand, it purred-a long, wobbly little hum that made Enzo giggle like a maniac.

“I can’t believe I’m about to give this to her,” Mattheo muttered, staring down at the abomination with the reverence of someone preparing for a proposal.

That evening, you were curled under your blanket in the common room when he approached, awkwardly holding something behind his back.

“Hey,” he said, suddenly nervous.

You blinked up at him, tired but trying to smile. “Hey, Matty.”

His heart melted a bit. He cleared his throat. “So, I know you’ve had a crap week. And I know you kept saying you wanted a... a jelly cat.”

Your brows furrowed. “Oh! Yeah, I love Jellycats. They’re these plush stuffed animals-super soft and cuddly-”

Mattheo blinked. “Wait... they’re toys?”

“Yeah?” you said, laughing softly. “I had a bunny one as a kid. I miss her.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then he slowly pulled the thing from behind his back.

It jiggled.

It meowed.

You stared. “Is that...?”

“A jelly cat,” he said proudly. “Literally.”

It was the strangest, ugliest, most endearing creature you’d ever seen. A wobbly, red blob shaped vaguely like a kitten, with gummy bear paws and licorice whiskers. It purred again, then flopped over with a squelch.

You blinked. “You made this?”

He shrugged, suddenly sheepish. “With Theo and Enzo. They helped. I just... I thought it would cheer you up."

You were speechless for a second. Then you laughed. Hard. The first real, full laugh you’d had in days. Tears prickled in your eyes-not from sadness this time, but from how much you adored him.

“Matty,” you whispered, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. “It’s perfect.”

He grinned, a little pink in the face. “You’re not just saying that because it’s technically alive, right?”

You hugged the jelly cat against your chest. It wobbled and purred like a satisfied pudding. “No. I love it. And I love you.”

He paused, eyes softening. “Even though I didn’t know what a Jellycat was?”

“Especially because of that.”

And from that day on, the literal Jelly Cat sat on your shelf. Wobbly. Melty. Slightly cursed. And every time you looked at it, you remembered how much your ridiculous, thoughtful, soft-hearted Slytherin boyfriend loved you.

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antisocial-transfag · 1 day ago

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This reminded me of a youtube video I can't find right now because someone must have taken it down, it was about early transmasc representation in anime and manga, and how some of the anime adaptations try to erase these elements from the story, or "resolve" them by having the character become a wife. Other times, the trans character is seen as a tragic figure whose "gender issues" can't be resolved

These characters are often somewhere between actually identifying as something other than a woman, being someone who had their family raise them as a man, or deciding to become a man for contrived plot reasons, but I think that shines a light on how people can't concieve of transmasculinity as a *real thing*

Sidebar, I think what some people get wrong when discussing trans characters in media is that in trying to validate a fictional character's gender, they can't discuss the way transness is used as a narrative tool, and as if it's something that happens to the character, not something that they are, but I digress

I kept these aforementioned anime in mind when I was watching the Gintama Yagyu arc, where it's gradually revealed that Otose's childhood friend who she feels pressured to marry is a trans man. Yagyu Kyuubei was supposed to become head of their clan of very important samurai after it ended up with no other heirs, and so were raised as a boy. They developed an attachment to Otose after she stood up to his bullies and they became childhood friends, but later when she and her brother were going to be kidnapped to be sold into indentured servitude, Kyuubei saved them but lost an eye. This made Otose feel that she owed them something. It's a long story, but the protagonists fight with the clan, it's revealed that Kyubei is female, and the status quo is reinstated because Gintama is an episodic comedy for the most part

I'm not saying that anything that happened didn't make sense from a character and story perspective, but there's definitely this aspect of how Kyuubei is portrayed that's like the narrative is trying to fix them, like being a man and being with a woman are the wrong decision, not just for the character, but in general for people who were AFAB. Their reputation as a great swordsman also evaporates in the last episode where it gets revealed they're female and the protagonist is able to easily defeat them, while the other antagonists of the clan get longer fight scenes (it could just be pacing and trying to focus on the drama but it's underwhelming). We also see the male main characters Shinpachi and Gintoki react in a homophobic way

I heard there are also later appearances of this character that I haven't reached yet, but by then they present feminine and talk about not being either gender, and they develop a crush on the protag despite specifying only being attracted to women in the first arc. Another tendency in some of these stories is that attraction to men gets seen as the transmasc character still "being a woman on the inside". So I'm not optimistic

I really need people to start analyzing Why every character AFAB’s story ends in babies in a way that is deeper than ‘can I justify it in character’, because often that isn’t the point, the point is usually ‘why does every creator think that babies ever after’ is always necessary for characters afab.

#i don't know who katniss is in the post so i can't speak on that #gintama #i looove this show but like. misogynistic shonen from the 2000s

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seishroo · 3 days ago

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Hiori from blue lock eating readers ass since we felt like we weren't good enough for him now he has to prove us wrong by eating us out until we're dumb

cw. smut mdni, ass eating, insecurity, dumbification, gun mention, little bit of sadist hiori LOOL

bf!hiori who can’t stand when you belittle yourself in any kind of way. he adores everything about you, even the things you criticize the most about yourself.

when it came up in conversation that you felt as if you’re out of his league, he stilled beside you, lips parting and mind blanking.

“..ya really think that, hm?”, he asks, his tone low and warm. when you confirmed it with a slow nod of your head, he wasted no time pulling you into his lap to wrap his arms around you.

despite him giving you sweet words of reassurance and a face full of gentle pecks, you still felt this unease in your stomach. hiori could tell by the look on your face and frowned, tucking a finger under your chin to have you meet his eyes.

“y’know that ain’t true, sweets”, he whispers, eyes searching yours for any sort of reciprocation. when nothing but uncertainty reflected in those irises of yours, he slowly leaned in, gaze never wavering. “if words can’t convince ya..”, he began, your noses centimeters away from touching, “i’ll have to make ya feel it instead”.

“ass up”, the only words you comprehended before you were being bent over the nearest surface, bottoms shoved down with a wet, sloppy tongue diving into your puckered hole. its filthy, erotic, hiori’s eatin you up like a starved man who ain’t seen a breadcrumb in the last decade. your juices coat his chin, sticky and sweet while his tongue circles around the rim.

“so perfect, all f’me”, hiori mutters to himself as he pushes his face deeper between your globes, tongue-fucking you like a semi-automatic rifle. you throb against his mouth, reaching behind you and tugging on those blue locks.

“sshhhiiittt, hio..!”, you cry out, his tongue casting fucking spells that you swear make you see stars. he gives your ass a few firm slaps, making you cry out even louder.

“shh, baby”, he coos, sloppily making out with your hole just to make you whine. “jus’ let me take care of ya, ‘kay?”, he mutters before finishing the job, groping your cheeks harder. he was an animal. he could spend the entire day like this, face full of ass, not giving a fuck how sore his jaw may be. nothing’s better than hearing your sweet little mewls while you’re feeling pleasure because of him. only him.

he was everywhere all at once. you felt every, single, last stroke of his lengthy tongue, digging in every crevice of your entire being, like flashes of heat. you roll your hips closer to his mouth, a needy groan falling from your lips. “pleasepleaseplease”, you whine stupidly before your orgasm rushes through you, blinding almost. hiori slurps up every last bit of your release, leaving no place untouched — face sticky and smeared with you.

your body went limp as you came down from your peak, hiori’s arm snaked around your waist to stabilize you. “still think yer not enough f'me, pretty?”, he teases with a kiss to the top of your head, more than willing for round two if you still had any doubts.

there was no need for protest.

an. hi babi sorry this took me so long i kept getting too geeked thru the day n sleeping smh hope u like :3

#seishroo #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #bllk smut #blue lock smut #yo hiori #hiori yo #bllk hiori #blue lock hiori #hiori x reader #hiori smut #seishroo :: reqs

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moon-fics · 1 day ago

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Hi hi! Just read your Bob Floyd x young girlfriend/wife! Reader, and I’m gagging for more! It was so perfect and suited to him, your characterisation skills are 💋 👌 (chef’s kiss)!!!! Could I please maybe request the first time all the topgun pilots meet reader, maybe like at the Hard deck? Thank you sooo much!! - LT xx

OMG, thank you so much, you're so sweet!! Ok, I can try to write for the other characters, but I cannot promise it won't be OOC bc Jake, Rooster, and Bob were my main men. I cannot do all the pilots because that would genuinely take me ages, but I can do three!

Jake Seresin

You meet Jake at the Hard Deck while out with friends.

He spots you immediately and makes you his target for the night.

However, Phoenix and Fanboy notice this just as quick. Since Jake left them hanging during training, they decided to sabotage his entire night.

When Jake goes to approach you with a drink in hand, Phoenix 'accidentally' leaves a pool stick lying around.

Jake had to spend a few minutes apologizing about his drink getting on your purse and offering to pay you back.

Thankfully, you don't yell at him, and instead help him clean your bag.

When he tries to smooth-talk you, Fanboy decides it's a perfect time to bring up when he threw up one time during training.

After an entire night of consistently foiling Jake's plan to sweep you off your feet, he decides to drop the cool guy act.

That's how you find yourself sitting at a table with him having the most wonderful conversation.

He talks about his family, his home, and how much he enjoys his job.

This actually works, and he can't help but smile at the fact that you enjoy his company. Not his job or how he looks, but who he is and what he wants in life.

This is when the tricks stop from Phoenix and Fanboy. Even they know not to ruin something like this.

By the time the bar closes, you're still chatting with him. The conversation flows perfectly, and it ends up being you who asks him out for coffee.

"Ok, so you didn't forget?" You ask Natasha for the fifty-first time. She rolls her eyes playfully and fixes your hair. There's a large smile on both your faces as she examines you.

"I think if I forgot, Jake would actually kill me." She laughs. You flatten out your outfit and check for wrinkles. The white fabric is just as you imagined it would be. "You look beautiful."

"You're just saying that because you still feel guilty for ruining my purse years ago," You giggle. Then, it hits you quickly. You're more than thankful for her and how she decided to get back at Jake that night. "I wouldn't be here without you."

"Hey, what about me?" Jake's voice comes from around the corner. Natasha is already stepping in his way to stop him from seeing you. "I'm not gonna. I just wanted to talk to my soon-to-be wife one last time before we're married." He remains on the other side of the wall. "I cannot believe I still paid for that purse."

Bob Floyd

Bob did not meet you at the Hard Deck. He met you while running on a trail.

He might not seem like it, but cardio is important to him and he finds nature relaxing.

You, however, were completely lost. This was a new trail for you and you knew you should have started out easy.

So, when Bob hears someone yelling from the woods, he immediately goes to help.

He finds you only a few feet from the trail, and yet you look so terrified. He can't blame you. There are so many stories of people getting lost in the woods and dying there.

He helps you back to the trail and decides to run with you. He says it's to make sure you stay safe, but it's also because you're pretty.

You don't say much because it exerts too much energy, but there's a connection there.

He visits this trail often and can point out animals he's seen before. It makes the experience much better, and you honestly enjoy having small things pointed out.

You two decide to take a break by a brook. The conversation is awkward at first, and there are a few moments of silence. That doesn't stop you from laughing at his bad jokes or asking about other animals he's seen.

By the end of the run, he asks for your number but stumbles over his words. You gladly give it to him, and thus begins a friendship that slowly grows.

After a few months of running together and spending time outside of the trails, he asks you out.

He makes a whole day of it, too. He sets up a picnic on the trail you two met at.

---

The sun is pounding on your back as you run down the trail. You decided to go alone today because Bob had errands to run. It was beautiful out and you weren't about to waste the day.

But your eyes land on a trail of flowers that were never there before. They lead up a hill that you can't see the top of. Against your better judgment, you follow them. Who knows, maybe you'll find fairies.

Once you reach the top, you notice a large sign with the question 'Will you marry me?'. You immediately assume that you've just spoiled someone else's proposal, until Bob appears next to you.

"What kind of person has a proposal in the middle of the woods?" He asks with a chuckle. You don't know why he's here or how he knew you'd be here. It catches you off guard, and you're stuck trying to think. You're stopped when he gets on one knee. "Probably some guy who is madly in love," He cracks his sweet smile.

Natasha Trace

You meet her because you steal the pool ball to her game.

You genuinely thought it was one from your table and picked it off the ground. Natasha tried to tell you, but you were adamant it was yours.

She's great at playing the long game. So, she lets you have it and watches as the game goes on. She does it with a smirk that tells all.

When you realize you have two of the same balls, your heart drops. This is humiliating because you did this to yourself.

Nervously, you turn to her and hand her the ball back. She isn't mad about it, and she accepts your apology with a laugh.

She invites you to play with her, Bob, and Hangman. You agree and find that they are great company.

Even when Hangman makes cocky comments that pisses everyone off. You can't help but connect with Natasha and almost cling to her. She's vibrant and snarky. She makes the conversation stand out.

When you return the next day to see her there again, you don't hesitate to join her. She introduces you to a few more people, but spends most of her time with you.

She brings up the pool ball story to everyone she can and revels in the way you have to explain yourself. It isn't malicious because she then talks about how she's glad it happened. Otherwise, she'd never have met you.

When you decide to ask her out, it takes a lot of courage. She's such a strong person, and her friendship means the world to you.

When you do ask her out, she acts completely surprised. She pretends she pretends as if this came out of the blue, right before saying yes excitedly.

You two moved in together rather quickly, but it slowed from there. She's not the type to rush everything and instead lets the flow take you towards the future.

You enter the house with groceries in hand. They're heavy and there are a lot of them, but you can manage. Your dog greets you happily and follows you into the kitchen.

"Oh, babe, you could have asked for help!" Natasha says while getting up from the couch. She instantly helps you unload the bags and put the food away. As she's reaching for the last item in the paper bag her hand grazes over a small box.

"I didn't want you to do anything on your day off," You explain.

She can feel the velvet texture and is confused as to what you could have bought. When she pulls it out, she's met with something that makes her heart race. She opens it and sees a gorgeous ring that resembles the one she joked about buying.

"Is this-?" She covers her mouth with her hand. She's never been one to cry, but right now she can feel the tears forming in her eyes. "Yes!" She laughs.

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thoughtwriter · 1 day ago

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puppy love - a. tv

summary -> you’re a big animal lover and fall in love with everyone’s pets the second you meet them so arthur surprises you

wc -> 2k

masterlist | main masterlist | requests

you never stood a chance when it came to dogs. one look at a wagging tail, a wet nose, or those soul-piercing puppy eyes and your heart was theirs. it wasn’t just that you liked animals —no, you felt something every time you met one. dogs especially. you connected with them instantly, like you’d known them in a past life and they were just waiting for you to come back.

it had become a running joke amongst your friends —your inability to resist any dog you met. arthur teased you constantly about it. and now, hanging out more frequently with the sidemen and their circle because of your growing presence on youtube, it was almost too easy to fall in love.

your first true test came at simon’s.

“okay, but i’m warning you now,” simon said, opening the door to his house with a raised eyebrow, “if you make that squealing noise again when you see her, i’mm revoking your dog privileges.”

you grinned, bouncing on your toes. “no promises.”

he stepped aside dramatically like he was revealing royalty.

and there she was. nala.

the golden retriever you’d stalked for months on Instagram, seen in countless vlogs, and now… now she was walking toward you in real life with that serene confidence only retrievers seem to have. like she knew she was the star of every room she walked into.

you didn’t even finish greeting simon properly. you dropped to your knees like your soul had left your body.

“NALA,” you gasped, arms already outstretched.

she blinked at you, tail giving a curious wag —then broke into a full run, barreling into you like you were long-lost best friends.

“she’s softer than i imagined,” you mumbled, face buried in her golden fur.

“she’s also going to leave you in five minutes for a piece of ham,” simon quipped.

“she’s perfect,” you said, ignoring him.

nala licked your cheek, and you genuinely thought you might cry. she was a walking serotonin boost, and you refused to believe that this was just a casual meeting. this was love. soulmate-level.

talia walked in just as you tried to take a selfie with nala’s head on your shoulder. she rolled her eyes with a smile. “another victim, i see.”

“don’t act like you weren’t the same,” simon said, nudging her.

“she’s magic,” you murmured. “i would die for her.”

simon groaned. “you met her two minutes ago.”

“doesn’t matter.”

by the time you left that night, nala had successfully claimed 47 new photos in your camera roll and at least three mentions in your Instagram story. you weren’t ashamed.

the next week, you were at tobi’s.

“she’s a bit shy,” he warned as you walked into his cozy living room. “takes a while to warm up.”

you immediately crouched down and kept your hands in your lap.

“hi, luna,” you said gently. “it’s okay. take your time.”

the black lab mix peeked out from behind the sofa, cautious eyes watching you like she was trying to solve a puzzle.

“she’s a rescue,” tobi added. “didn’t have the easiest start.”

you nodded softly, not taking your eyes off her, “she’s beautiful.”

a few moments passed —then luna padded forward, ears back but nose twitching with curiosity.

when she finally reached you and nudged your hand, you felt that same heart-thudding connection again. you let her sniff, then slowly scratched behind her ears. she leaned into it like a sleepy cat.

“she trusts you,” tobi said quietly. “that’s rare.”

you looked up at him with a watery smile. “she’s safe now. she knows.”

after that, it was game over. you visited luna at least three more times in the span of two weeks. you memorized where she liked to be scratched, which squeaky toy was her favorite, and how she did a little full-body shake after every nap.

by the time you were posting a tiktok dedicated to her, arthur texted:

do i need to start barking to get your attention or…?

ypu replied with a photo of luna snuggled against your lap and captioned it:

u couldn’t compete

his response came instantly:

rude. also accurate.

still, he never seemed bothered. not really. he always seemed… amused. a little quiet when you talked too long about someone else’s dog, sure. but his eyes always softened when he saw you like that —all light and affection and no filter.

then one thursday night, while you were half-asleep on facetime with him, he asked, “you free Saturday?”

you blinked. “uh, yeah, i think so. why?”

“got something planned. just be here at 3.”

you sat up a little. “why? what are we doing?”

he smirked. “you’ll see. don’t ask questions.”

you raised a suspicious brow. “if this is an elaborate intervention for how obsessed i am with dogs—”

“you’ll see,” he repeated, grinning before ending the call.

saturday rolled around. you stood outside his flat, suspicious and excited, wondering if maybe he’d borrowed a dog for the afternoon just to mess with you. or worse —adopted a raccoon. arthur would do something chaotic like that.

but nothing prepared you for what was behind that door.

arthur answered with the most casual expression ever, despite the fact that he was obviously dying to spill something.

“hey,” he said smoothly.

“hi,” you replied, narrowing your eyes. “you’re being weird.”

“i’m always weird,” he said, stepping aside.

you walked in —and froze.

you heard it first. a tiny, excited whimper. then a shuffle. then the sound of claws gently tapping against hardwood.

you turned toward the sound —and your heart dropped into your stomach.

in the center of the room was a small playpen. inside it sat a crate, some toys, a tiny food bowl… and the smallest puppy you had ever seen in your life.

golden-brown fur. big floppy ears. a speckled nose. and the moment she saw you, her tail wagged so hard her whole body wobbled.

“Arthur,” you whispered, stunned.

he tried —and failed —to keep a straight face. “so, you know how you keep falling in love with everyone else’s dog?”

you turned to him in disbelief, heart pounding. “you didn’t.”

“i did,” he said, stepping closer. “she’s yours.”

your hands flew to your mouth.

“she’s mine?”

“she needed a home,” he said, voice gentler now. “and you… you’ve got the biggest heart i know. i figured, if anyone could love her the way she deserves—”

you didn’t hear the rest. the puppy barked, a tiny, excited squeak, and you rushed forward to open the gate.

she launched herself at you, clumsy and wiggling and full of joy. you scooped her up, your eyes already full of tears.

“she’s so little,” you whispered, pressing your face against her.

“she’s a rescue, got a bit of retriever, a bit of shepherd —maybe some collie too. bit of everything. she’s smart. and loud. like someone i know.”

you laughed through your tears. “i can’t believe you did this.”

arthur rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly shy. “i just wanted you to have something that makes you happy. every time you see a dog, you light up. i thought… maybe this time, it could be yours.”

the puppy licked your cheek, tail wagging furiously as she squirmed in your arms.

you looked up at arthur, heart thudding. “god, i love you.”

the words slipped out before you could even think.

his eyes widened —and then softened.

“i love you too,” he said, stepping closer. “have for a while, actually.”

you stood there, puppy in your arms, love of your life in front of you, and for once, you didn’t have anything sarcastic to say. you were full. complete.

“what’s her name?” arthur asked softly.

you looked down at the puppy. her eyes blinked up at you, full of trust. like she already knew who she belonged to.

“cleo,” you said. “she looks like a cleo.”

arthur grinned. “cleo it is.”

you sat on the floor together, cleo snuggled in your lap, her tiny snores filling the room like the final note in a perfect song.

and somewhere between the crinkle of her toy, the warmth of arthur’s hand in yours, and the feeling of unconditional love wrapped in fur, you realized: this wasn’t just a surprise.

it was the beginning of your forever.

#british youtubers #george clarke fluff #arthur x reader #arthur television #arthur frederick #arthur tv #arthur hill #arthur tv x reader #arthur tv fluff #will lenney #willne #writers on tumblr #sidemen #simon minter #tobjizzle #ukyt

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iydiamartinx · 1 day ago

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BREAK POINT

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader

divider by: @cafekitsune word count: 802 synopsis: You're there to pull Nightwing back after Jason's death. a/n: I'm sick, but I managed to write something short and...not so sweet.

The alley was slick with rain and blood—most of it not Dick’s.

The Joker lay slumped against the brick wall, his chest heaving in broken laughter, ribs broken, mouth full of crimson.

And Dick Grayson was losing himself.

Years of discipline. Years of swallowing grief, of smiling for Gotham, of fighting for the light even when all he saw was shadow—gone. All of it crumbling the second that name left the Joker’s cracked lips.

“You know,” he wheezed out through a bloodied smile, “he begged for you.”

Dick went still.

One breath. Then another.

“Little Birdie,” the Joker crooned, spitting teeth. “He screamed your name. Over and over. Begged for big brother to come save him—”

Dick saw red. The sound of metal against flesh was sickening.

The crowbar rose and fell in Dick Grayson’s hands, slick with rain and blood. Joker’s body twitched with every blow, each one landing with bone-splitting force. The alley was a chorus of thunder, but his laughter still rang louder than anything else.

Even now—half his face caved in, blood pouring from a split scalp, his legs likely broken—he laughed.

“You should’ve seen him,” Joker gurgled, choking on the blood in his throat. “Screaming, ‘Nightwing’ll save me!’” A broken giggle rattled from his chest. “But he didn’t, did he? The Big Bird never came.”

“Shut up!”

He didn’t recognize the sound that tore from his throat.

It wasn’t his voice. It was deeper. Raw. Animal.

Dick didn’t remember screaming.

Didn’t feel the sting where the crowbar bit into his palm through soaked leather. Didn’t notice how his grip kept slipping, how his shoulder screamed from the strain. All he knew was rage—pure and blinding. It scorched through his veins, hotter than the lightning cracking overhead, hotter than the fire that had swallowed Jason whole.

It flooded his vision red.

Until all he could see was the Joker’s face—and a coffin far too small.

He struck again.

And again.

The crowbar came down with a wet crack, echoing off the alley walls. Joker’s head snapped to the side, teeth skipping across the pavement like thrown dice. Blood smeared the brick in arterial bursts, and still—still that damned smile clung to his broken face.

Every strike was for second Jason had suffered in that hands of that clown. Every crunch of metal on bone was a scream he hadn’t been able to stop.

He couldn’t stop.

He didn’t want to stop.

Somewhere behind him, a voice called his name—soft at first. Then louder. Closer.

“Dick.”

He didn’t hear it.

“Dick.” And then your hands were on him—grabbing his wrist, chest pressed against his back. “Stop.”

He was trembling.

“He killed Jason,” he choked, voice cracked. “He took him. And he laughed.”

“I know,” you whispered, forehead against his shoulder. “I know, baby. But Jason wouldn’t want this.”

He didn’t answer. His breath hitched, uneven. You could feel the storm inside him—every muscle coiled, every heartbeat like a drum of war. For a moment, you just held him, grounding him with your touch, your presence.

Then your voice came again, softer—cracked with your own grief that you were trying to hold back.

“You think I don’t want him dead?” Your voice wavered, but didn’t break. “I do. Every day. But if you do this, Dick… you’ll never be able to look in the mirror again.”

His jaw clenched. His whole body was shaking with restraint. His arm still hovered midair, the crowbar slick and red, the Joker barely breathing beneath him.

“I could end it,” he said, so quiet you barely heard it. “Right now. Right here. He deserves to rot in hell.”

“Then don’t follow him there.”

That was what made him stop.

Slowly—like it cost him everything—his hand dropped. His fingers uncurled from the Joker’s collar, letting him slump to the ground with a wet rasp of air, unconscious or close to it.

His breathing was erratic. Ragged. Shattered.

You stepped in front of him, chest to chest, uncaring of the blood on his suit or the crowbar still clenched in his shaking hand.

“Look at me,” you whispered.

His eyes flickered to yours.

Not Nightwing’s eyes. Dick’s. Grief-stricken. Lost. A boy mourning his brother the only way he knew how—through violence.

“You’re not him,” you said, voice breaking. “You’re not a killer.”

The crowbar slipped from his fingers and hit the pavement with a hollow clang, swallowed by the rain.

And Dick dropped to his knees.

You caught him before he could fall completely, arms wrapping around him as he sagged into you, rain soaking through both your clothes as he shook with silent sobs. You held him there, in the wreckage of the alley.

And behind you, the Joker lay still.

Broken—but still alive.

#dick grayson #nightwing #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #richard grayson #dc comics #dc universe #dcu #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x oc #batfam #nightwing x you #nightwing x reader #nightwing x y/n

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catras-breakup-song · 2 days ago

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catradora's canon status turns 5 today. i also turn 20 today. 🪅

i've spent an entire quarter of my life, a whopping 25% of it now, loving the center focus of she-ra and what this show teaches us...

it's actually pretty wild for me to think too deeply about. truly, it can't not mean something absolutely special (if i love myself, of course) when that much of a coincidence is actually reality.

this story isn't just a hyperfixation, it's a permanent part of who i am. it's shaped my later teenage years and helped me through hard times consisting of confusion and loneliness. i resonated better with catra & glimmer than any other fictional characters i had known before or would ever know since then. i found the art style soothing to stare at all the time. i appreciated the words of comfort we're supposed to internalize. it's been a consistent source of familiarity when i needed nothing more than to rewatch the same scenes repeatedly.

the online community surrounding western queer animation, and particularly this piece of media, kickstarted my hobby of collecting video edits, up to the thousands, that many talented creators have made, on an external drive. unfortunately i lost that project over the summer last year and it devastated me deeply, however i never stopped keeping track of my favorites and supporting the works i loved as i continued coming across them, such as this one to “the great war” by @somanypetals, which i will never stop recommending to others here ─ you can also go through my tag for this topic if you'd like! in fact, i also got back into video editing myself for the first time since 2021 last month!

additionally, it wouldn't be an authentic CBS post of mine if i didn't highlight how beautiful five by five takes' analysis videos on youtube are to me. their writing is a top-tier heart-wrenching gold mine and i've lost count of how many times i've rewatched through that playlist again and again. if you love this masterpiece as much as i do, you'll do so tenfold here. i still remember watching the first part of the series, "how she-ra gives us hope", when it was brand new, and i love bragging to fellow friends about being one of 5X5T's earliest subscribers from this fandom!

i (sort of but not really, which is a long complicated story on its own), came from the traumatized wave of angry voltron/KL fans. thankfully i didn't struggle with trusting the writers to follow through on the groundwork they laid down because it had only been my first fandom and therefore i hadn't been hurt by queerbaiting multiple times, but i say this because it was a big deal when she-ra's finale showed something on screen that could not be taken away or undone. catra & adora's romance helped me find peace & pride in my lesbian attraction. although i ended up not being homosexual despite failing to realize it for another year, i am still very much sapphic and wouldn't trade that gift for the world!

speaking of which, one of the best things you can find in a partner is the relatability of a common interest that brings out the emotional connection between you. i've seen @bluedandylyon around before, but i got to know xim more closely on the SPOP creative flex discord server after i jumped in activity there about a month and a half ago (and i only started being active on this blog again after creating it in 2022 back in august last year, it's amazing what that did for me). the two of us genuinely could not have clicked better with anyone else and i believe we were always destined to stumble into each other eventually. i don't know why the universe decided that time was to be so recent, but after spending half a decade single it's been very exciting to finally leave that break behind. because of SPOP, i asked them if they wanted to date on lesbian visibility day (april 26) and something within me renewed to make me the happiest i've ever been! 💟

my thoughts are too scattered and unorganized for this to feel like a proper essay of some sort, but i know i needed to get this done in time and i enjoyed it. i can't appreciate enough how much my identity, the core essence of who i am inside, has been shaped by this 50-episode cartoon. a simple love letter could never cover how important this reboot means to so many people, even if mattel still refuses to acknowledge it. ⚔️🌈💖

#welovespop2018 #she-ra appreciation week #catradora anniversary #catradora canon #spop positivity #spop #she ra #she-ra #she-ra and the princesses of power #catradora #catra #adora #video edit

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dalaonyang2 · 3 days ago

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a continuation of zero's alternate route post megaman x5's bad ending

i recommend you to play Had I Not Seen the Sun by chevy for more feels :)))

Some headcannon yapping ahead : (heavily referenced from honkai impact 3rd chapter 25)

Previously, after giving his inner demon a good beating, Zero encounters his biggest trauma, Iris.

He expects Iris to curse and loathes him for his actions in the Great Repliforce War. Instead Iris greets him just like an old days before those shit happen. The conversation roughly goes like this:

"Zero, you have changed a lot."

"Iris.....you haven't changed at all."

"Is that so? I'm glad to hear that "

*awkward silence*

"Is this just a lingering image of my memories? "

"You are free to interpret that way. I'm sorry, I wasn't there for you.

"It's okay. I'm just happy to see you again. At least I can finally say goodbye. "

"Oh my, that doesn't sound like the Zero I knew."

"....A lot of things have happened lately."

"...so you overcame your destiny at last, right?"

"Uhm, thanks to everyone's help."

"I always knew that Zero had a power to overcome his destiny".

Then both have a stroll in the fields of flowers. Zero tells his journey after X sacrifices himself to give the prototype of anti-maverick virus serum into him on the Eurasia wreckage. giving him a chance to reflect on his mistake, work to not make them again, and reach happiness. Instead, Zero tried time after time to die doing suicide missions with one another. misunderstood X's goodwill. ultimately, damaging his relationship with his comrades and...X. From there, he learns to not walk alone and...forgiving himself while reminiscing about old days. While X and co raid the nightmares

then the moments of truth ....

...then you can hear zero crying out loud like castorice on her short animation :') .

Then, he returns to reality and onward to the final battle!

i wanted to draw more crying zero, alas, my job comes first:'D

damn, i got emotional damage when drawing these CGs

TL;DR: blud beat the shit out his inner demon and got the closure that he never got in the OG game

#ロックマンx #megaman x #mmx zero #iris megaman #zero megaman #artists on tumblr

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justwinginglife · 20 hours ago

Note

So another request hehe but this would be my last one (for the meantime) since I don't want to flood your inbox.

I'm thinking about Hoshina with a Lieutenant reader that has a Disney Princess ability, like ya know the animal whisperer sort of thing. The reader is known for being loved by animals by the third division, so they called them a Disney Princess. They always saw the reader with a random animal in the middle of the battlefield and since then the whole division had a bet on what would be the animal they will be seen every time they enter the battlefield, or how many. One time they got attacked by a Wolf Kaiju, they thought they already killed all of the Kaiju's but Okonogi kept on saying there's still one left, and the reader is missing. When they found the Kaiju, they also found the reader who's now giving the Wolf Kaiju a belly rub.

/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\ -requester

I swear this request has been in my inbox so long it literally, actually collected dust and for that, I'm sorry. Thank you for your patience. Hope you like this!

Crushes and Crowns

Approx Word Count: 3800 Tags: idk, something like, "Hoshina is a silly brat but you love him anyway" and more Third Divison Shenanigans

“Evening, Princess!”

“Rough day, Princess?”

“See you later, Princess!”

You shook your head, laughing to yourself, as you made your way through the Third Division’s halls. Despite your protesting of this new nickname you’d earned, the soldiers continued to use it anyway (overuse it, really), and it’d started to grow on you (though you still found it rather silly.)

You still remembered the day you’d been dubbed, “Princess.” It was your fourth time in one week, bringing home an animal to the base, and it wasn’t even your fault. Your entire childhood, animals had been drawn to you, and it seemed that none of that had changed in your adulthood. It wasn’t like you purposely brought them along with you, they just…followed wherever you went. The first day you’d settled into the dorms, you’d tracked bees inside. No one had thought much of it at first, as you had brought flowers to brighten up your living space. The second time, a raccoon had trailed in behind you, eager to make its home beneath your bed. The third time, you’d come home with bags upon bags of clothes from your latest shopping spree, and when a bag slipped from your arms, a stray dog had caught it and walked it back to base for you. Soon, it became a running joke that the next time you tracked in an animal, it’d be a horse, as the animals you attracted seemed to be getting bigger and bigger in size. Or maybe this was how they discovered unicorns really existed, was when it sauntered in beside you after your next outing.

It was honestly a wonder how you hadn’t been crowned “Princess” sooner, when your Defense Force exam was only made memorable because a flock of crows had suddenly flooded the arena during the test, working to distract the Kaiju while you took them out, one by one. It was even more peculiar that crows weren’t local to that area, and even if they had been, that would not have been the season to see them.

Either way, as bizarre as these events were, you had never deemed them a result of any particular skill on your part. You just assumed it was pure coincidence that animals were drawn to you. Maybe you had an attractive scent; that couldn’t be helped.

It wasn’t until you started showing up to battle with an animal by your side -completely unprompted- that you thought to yourself, maybe you were what they called an animal whisperer. You could coo to the birds and call them to your aid, you could click your tongue and the moles would burrow out of the ground, you could whistle to the wolves and they’d bound to your side, even the snakes (as stubborn and self serving as they were) answered to your every beck and call. At this point, it seemed there was no beast alive that you couldn’t tame. Or man, for that matter.

And recently, you’d had your eye on one Vice Captain Hoshina of the Defense Force’s Third Division.

While you had eventually, begrudgingly accepted the title of “Princess” (after weeks of scrunching up your nose and wrinkling your brows at the name), you’d never had any real desire for the name to grace your ears. That is, until you fell in love with the Vice Captain, the one person who did not use your ridiculous nickname. And now, after having been accustomed to the pet name (being smothered with it, really), you developed a sudden longing for him to one day take you by the hand, look deep into your eyes, and whisper to you lovingly, “Princess,” as though it were a name only he could bestow. It was all you could think about. He was all you could think about.

It wasn’t difficult in the slightest to fall completely and totally in love with him. Not at all. While you had long proven yourself an asset to the Defense Force, you still remember the days when your every achievement was attributed solely to your animal help on the field. Hoshina was the first person to acknowledge that, while you’d had help, it’d been due to your skill and your skill alone that you achieved what you did. Making an impossible shot, your bullets piercing through a kaiju core with exact precision, even despite the flock of animals crowding around your shot- that accomplishment was the result of your tireless effort and dedication to honing your craft, and the recognition and rewards for such a talent belonged to you and you only. The animals may have done their part, but at the end of the day, it was you firing the shot, you ending the fight before lives could be lost, you saving the day. And you were invaluable to him.

Of course, you longed to be more than just an asset to him.

If he wasn’t interested in you, it wasn't for lack of trying on your part. You noticed he always got up early to go for a run, so you’d join him on his runs. Every single day, without fail, you’d jog up to him, saying, “Fancy meeting you here,” like it was pure coincidence that you just so happened to be up at the crack of dawn even though you’d never woken up so early in your entire life, and you just so happened to run along the same path as him at the same time as him and the same pace as him. He’d laugh. Play along. Every single day, without fail, “What a coincidence,” He’d say with a grin. Some days, you wouldn’t talk much. You’d simply keep pace beside each other, enjoying the crisp, fresh air as your breaths painted clouds of white into the morning sky, and it’d be enough. Other days, he’d acknowledge that he knew you were coming. He’d hand you an extra bottle of water because he’d brought two. He’d pull out his portable speaker because you kept asking him what he was listening to on these runs. Sometimes, if you were late, you’d find him stretching on a nearby bench, and when you’d ask him why he hadn’t started his run yet, he’d raise an eyebrow to you like it was only obvious. He was waiting for you. Of course he was waiting for you. But was it just because he was used to you? Being his running partner didn’t mean you were anything else to him.

So you’d snag seats by him on the transport to the battlefield. Ask if he’d gotten a chance to eat lunch or dinner before the alarm had gone off. If he said yes, you’d tease him for not sharing. If he said no, you’d slip him a snack. He’d nod his head in thanks, and tell you, with a playful grin, that he’d protect your gift with his life. You’d tell him to worry about protecting himself. Tell him that if he slipped up in combat and you ended up having to go on your morning runs by yourself, you’d strangle his ghost. He’d give a little chuckle, and then make his lighthearted promises to you that he’d do his best to remain in one piece. You wondered if he’d ever promise you anything else.

But life went on, your relationship with him progressed at a snail’s pace, and the Third Division remained as rowdy as ever. You discovered that their latest source of entertainment was a betting pool. About you.

It’d become common knowledge on base that wherever you were, the animals followed. Even if you made a trip overseas, they were sure that some sort of whale or shark or dolphin would accompany you on your journey. So they began to place their bets on what animal would make their appearance during your next march into battle.

Haruichi mused that perhaps you’d appear with a fox by your side.

Iharu swore that a fox was too meager, and you were more likely to show up with a bear bounding behind you.

Ichikawa ruminated that it was possible a peacock would be your next companion.

Kafka bellowed with laughter, telling them all that they were thinking too small. He was sure you’d find some way to will dragons into existence and bend them to your command.

Platoon Leader Nakanoshima chided them all for being childish, but inside, she was hoping you’d bring home a kitten next time.

Everyone had their guesses and though you found them outlandish, you were curious to hear what Hoshina’s prediction was.

“Any thoughts, Vice Captain?”

He raised an amused brow to you. “Thoughts? On the betting pool? You’re really buying into what everyone is saying? That you’re some sort of animal goddess with the power to commune with nature?”

“No, of course not!” Your cheeks burst into flames. “That….that would just be stupid…” You grumbled to yourself, a slight pout on your lips, as you turned away from him.

He leaned into your field of view once more, head cocked, a cheeky grin dashed across his face. “I see, I see. So you were hoping to be some sort of deity after all.”

“I would never-!”

“Pufferfish.”

Your thoughts halted in their tracks. “A what??”

He grinned slyly. “You heard me. Bring a pufferfish next time.”

“To a BATTLEFIELD??? On LAND???”

He shrugged innocently, but his eyes sparkled with mirth. “I dunno, maybe you could blow it up big and hang it on a string, like it’s a balloon, or something,”

“You really are just teasing me, Hoshina!”

“I would never.”

“You told me that you found a shortcut on our little running trail the other day and led me straight through mud.” You made a show out of glaring at him.

He burst into laughter, shoulders quaking as he wiped tears from his eyes. “I didn’t think you’d believe me! We’ve run that path so much, I thought you’d know there was no shortcut. And besides, that’s more of a prank and less of a tease, so your argument is invalid.”

You would’ve fired back at him. Would’ve combat his teasing with a witty rebuttal. Maybe you would’ve even feigned upset and pretended to give him the cold shoulder just so he’d beg you to understand that he was just joking and he would never be so careless with your feelings. But you never got the chance to.

The red alarm went off.

Hoshina’s lax demeanor instantly went rigid, solemnity crossing over his face as he popped his comms in to receive a report of the situation. You zipped up your suit as you watched him nod his head in response to the report. He gestured for you to follow him as he made his way to the door.

“Honju. Ruins outside of town.” He mouthed to you.

You kept pace with him as he began speeding towards the transport, tying your hair up into a ponytail on the way. Along the way, the two of you collected soldiers, updating them on the situation as you all rushed to pull your gear together.

The atmosphere should’ve been tense, the adrenaline buzzing, the fear of death lurking around the corner, the fear of failing your country looming in the air. But it wasn’t. Not when you were around. Your fellow officers raced to catch up to you, whispering to each other, “So did you bet on cougar or coyote this time?” They’d snicker to each other as they made their arguments on which situation was more likely.

Even Hoshina couldn’t help but notice the lighthearted environment. “That’s enough chit chat, everyone in your vehicles now. And besides…I’m betting on a phoenix.” He winked and then hopped in the truck.

A phoenix??? Now he was on team mythical?? You groaned to yourself as you slunk in beside him. “You’re really setting the bar high, you know that?” You grumbled under your breath.

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over your ear. “If anyone can do it, it’s you... Princess.”

Your heart choked on its own rhythm, stuttering to a stop. He said it. He really, actually, truly fucking said it. And by god, you were not prepared in the slightest. Was the room spinning? Was the air increasingly thin? Had the sun filed in behind all the soldiers and made camp in this truck? Why were you sweltering and shivering all at once?

He bit back a laugh, opting instead to clear his throat into his fist. “Cat got your tongue?”

“P-pufferfish.” You mumbled meekly. “Thought you…wanted a pufferfish.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, chest shuddering, as he attempted to swallow down his own laughter. You were adorable, how else was he supposed to describe it? And how the hell was he supposed to contain himself? And in a truck full of people, no less. He was lucky they were all distracted with placing their bets, because he couldn’t help sneaking a look at your rose-tinted cheeks and it sent his heart into overdrive.

He might’ve reached out to caress them or pinch them, anything to touch them, and soothe his sanity. But then the truck stopped.

“Time to move out.” He ordered.

The soldiers spilled out of the car, and you were left to stumble behind them. Hoshina glanced back at you, suddenly aware that he’d left you all too dazed, and he immediately regretted teasing you so close to battle. He instructed a Platoon Leader to take you into their care, assigning their squad to the very back of the line. On any other day, you might’ve felt offended that he was benching you. But today, you hadn’t even noticed. How could you, when your heart was sprinting in dizzying circles in your chest? Could you even remember how to breathe? Did you remember what oxygen was? Sheer muscle memory allowed you to lock and load your gun, but your heart had no previous practice with gallivanting through sunny meadows and rainbowed skies. By the time you even realized what platoon you’d been assigned to, Hoshina was long gone.

He had rushed to the front lines, as he often did, slashing a path through his every foe with ease, until he reached his designated target. There it stood, hulking and howling, a Honju with a wolvish appearance- a beast among beasts. Hoshina noted to himself that it must have been the Alpha of the pack, as every bark and grunt appeared to be individual commands given to the Yoju that were currently swarming his comrades. He’d be sure to take it out quickly; he had to disrupt their chain of command. After all, he’d never forgive himself if even one of them caused any harm to you. Even as the last line of defense, you were still much too close to the battle for his liking. He trusted your skills, but he rebuked himself for the state he’d left you in. He’d be sure to finish this battle soon, and rush back to your side for a celebratory beer.

But even with all his talent, Hoshina was reminded that there was no such thing as a sure victory in battle. When he had decided to engage the Honju in battle, he had expected it to react much like a Kaiju would. He would attack and, having nothing but primal instincts to guide it, the Honju should respond in kind, bearing its fangs in retaliation. And, of course, it did at first. Hoshina’s blades clashed with its claws, weapons that somehow rivaled his own in both integrity and ferocity, and for a moment, it appeared as though it were anyone’s battle to win, with both sides equally as charged and tenacious. But it quickly became evident that Hoshina was stronger. And after a couple of fiery exchanges, the beast made the decision to retreat, its more animalistic nature winning out over its monstrous nature. Wolves, after all, hunt in packs and, even as the leader, a lone wolf is smart enough to know when to withdraw.

Hoshina pursued its quickly fleeing figure but it was to no avail. Even tracking it did no good, and he eventually made the decision to rejoin his officers in the field, clearing out the remaining Yoju. By the time the battle was over, he had almost been able to forget the humiliating draw between him and the Honju. That is, until Okonogi chimed in on his comms.

“Vice Captain, picking up one remaining Honju on the field, sir.”

He shook his head in frustration. “System must be acting up, Okonogi. I watched it retreat myself. It’s long gone by now.”

“No, sir. The readings are accurate. It’s still on the field.”

Hot blood surged through his veins. “Where?” He demanded.

“Sector Bravo.”

In an instant, his blood ran cold. Bravo. That was your sector. The end of the defensive line. “Okonogi, get me a sitrep on all officers in Sector Bravo. Is everyone accounted for?” His heart thundered in his chest as he sped through alleyways and burst through ruined buildings, all the while, listening to her rattle off each individual officer’s status. He couldn’t very well tell her that no one’s status but yours mattered.

“And finally, Officer L/N. Vitals normal.”

His breathing evened.

“But she appears to be secluded from the rest of the officers.”

His chest tightened. “She what??”

“For some reason, she’s in an abandoned part of the map.” Okonogi reported.

What on god’s earth were you doing out there alone?? His already-rapid pace increased even further. “Get me a status on the Honju.”

“It’s…oh. OH.”

“Okonogi-” He hissed.

“It’s closing in on her as we speak, Vice Captain-!”

She’d barely finished her sentence when he rocketed ahead, renewed strength and renewed desperation propelling him forward.

No, no, no, no. He hadn’t even asked your favorite genre of music, hadn’t asked if you ever minded always listening to his. He hadn’t asked you if you wanted to go with him to see the new, upcoming movie. He hadn’t asked you if you even liked animals or if you just somehow always got stuck with them. He hadn’t asked your deepest fears or your sincerest wishes. He hadn’t gotten to know you as well as he’d wanted. And most importantly…he hadn’t told you how he felt.

Right now, all he felt was panic. Terror. Anxiety.

He heard that familiar growl again and it sent his stomach spiraling into a knot. Why wasn’t he faster? Why wouldn’t his feet obey him? Why couldn’t he simply sprout wings and fly???

Then he heard your laugh.

He stumbled into the clearing just in time to see you, rubbing the wolf’s belly.

“Who’s a good boy? Yes, you are. Yes, you are! You’re not so scary now, are you? Just a lil hungry. Just a lil hungry baby. Have something for you, sweetie pie.” You yanked a nearby, rusted stop sign out of the ground and waved it back and forth.

Eyes lighting up, the Honju lunged forward.

Hoshina’s feet reacted before his mind did and he was at your side in a split second, swords at the ready, eager to spill the Kaiju’s organs all over the pavement.

But the Honju didn’t attack you. He simply gnawed on the “stick” you’d given him as a treat.

“Oh, Hoshina, you’re here. Hey.”

He blinked. ‘Hey?’ That was all he got? He literally broke the sound barrier, rushing to your aid, and he got a simple, ‘Hey?’

“Hoshina- meet Spot. Spot, meet my Vice Captain.”

His jaw dropped and shattered on the ground. “You NAMED it??”

You gave a sheepish laugh. “Well…I couldn’t very well kill it. Not when he’s being such a good boy for me. Aren’t you?”

As if in response, the wolf flopped onto its back once again, eager for more belly rubs, its wagging tail stirring up dirt.

Hoshina waved away the dust, coughing. “He’s not a ‘good boy.’ He tried to kill me.”

“But that was then. This is now. Can’t you just let this one Kaiju off the hook?”

Disbelief, shock, and indignation warred within him. But in the end, he fell victim to your glimmering eyes and your perfectly pouted lips. He sighed. “I…I suppose the… the Captain has her own kaiju pet so…it wouldn’t be completely inconceivable for you to…also have one.” His shoulders slumped in defeat.

Your eyes lit up like fireworks. “Really?? Oh- you’re the absolute best, Soshiro!” Excitement overtaking any sense of rationality, you threw your arms around him and squeezed him tight.

It wasn’t until he was properly snuggled into your embrace that you realized the gravity of what you’d said. And done.

“S…Soshiro?” He asked weakly.

Your arms froze around his waist. “I…I meant...Hosh…Vice…I…”

His body began to quiver and you wondered if you’d really upset him to the point of being so shaken with rage. But then he rested his forehead against your shoulder, laughter tumbling out of his lips. “You really just skipped straight to first names like it was nothing,” He gasped out in between fits of laughter.

You bit your lip, having no choice but to endure the shame and humiliation.

He finally stopped laughing enough to pull back and look at you, amusement painted clearly across his features. “Cat got your tongue?” He repeated his earlier words. “Princess.”

And there it was again. That same, overwhelming flood of crimson that rushed to the surface of your skin, enveloping every inch of your face. This time, even the tips of your ears had begun to dye themselves in the similar shade of rouge.

“Aww. How cute. Fearless in the face of monsters, but speechless when it comes to me. Why is that?” His voice danced with that familiar, teasing tone.

You attempted to shrink away from him but he caught you by the waist.

“No running away from me now, Princess.” His tone suddenly dropped, his words a low purr. “Tell me. What’s got you so worked up?”

“If you’re asking me things like that, you already know.” You grumbled in complaint. He chuckled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’ll have to enlighten me.”

“I like you. Stupid Soshiro.” You crossed your arms emphatically.

“What was that? Couldn’t hear you.”

“I said you’re stupid, Soshiro!”

He pressed his lips to yours, his taste intermingling with yours as he deepened the kiss. “And…” He pulled away, leaving you entranced, “What was it you said before that?”

“...like you. Stupid.” You repeated meekly.

“Could’ve done without the stupid,” He grinned, “But I like you too. My princess.” He dipped his head down to smother his whispered words against the soft swell of your lips once again. And then he kept kissing you until your lips were chapped, until there was no question about his feelings for you.

You’d never been too fond of your nickname before, but somehow, someway, whenever he murmured it the way he did, in that sickeningly sweet tone of his, as he buried his lips in yours, somehow- you felt like royalty.

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