#much potential fluff of tail

[tekatonic]

Decided to compile all the (digital) Tails stuff I hadn't posted throughout 2022 ! ( most recent to least recent ) The second image is @tsaikonautz's Tails design drawn in the style I use for my sonas and related ocs.

( newer Tails design here )

[kitten4sannie]

𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

pairing: dilf next door! yunho x fem! reader

genre: neighbor au, fluff, smut

summary: you try your next door neighbor on for size when your date cancels on you last minute.

w.c: 3.8k

warnings: yuyu is in his late 40s 🙂‍↕️, controversial spider-man takes LMAO, wine drinking (they are tipsy at most!), brief play fighting, (mostly) dom switch! yuyu but he also whimpers and whines 🙂‍↕️, subby switch! reader, big dick yuyu agenda ‼️, praise/pet names only, teasing (only a lil bit while he talks reader thru it uwu), brief spit kink, kissing, dry humping, fingering, face sitting, size kink >:))), bulge kink, creampie 💕

a/n: hihi i’m back! this fic is dedicated to my bestie tasha @ildangtaek ilyyy :(( and happy birthday againn i hope your special day was as lovely as you are <3 there really wasn’t much inspo for this i just ❤️ dilfs with my whole kitty esp when it’s yuyu uwu enjoy xx

p.s: thank you so very much for 7k followers! it’s still so unreal to me 🥹💕

song recs: new light — john mayer, boy is mine — ariana grande, plants — crumb

“So…you’re not coming…?” you asked your potential date through your speaker phone, slowly sitting back down in front of your vanity mirror, your puzzled reflection staring back at you. 

You listened to his vague explanation about how he wasn’t quite ready to take this next step with you, whatever that meant. All you were going to do was eat dinner and chat, not exchange marriage vows. He hung up before you had the chance to tell him how silly he sounded. Sulking, you shuffled into your bathroom to undo all the effort you put into looking like a five course meal for an undeserving stranger. 

Halfway through washing your face, you heard your oven timer go off. You completely forgot about the pizza you had made in a rush for you and your date to share. Pulling it out of the oven with a small sigh, you couldn’t help but stare at the unopened bottle of wine on the counter. It would’ve been entirely too easy for you to just get drunk, eat the entire pizza, and cry yourself to sleep afterwards, but a tiny voice inside the back of your mind told you to invite your cute neighbor over instead — even if he was a lot older than you. Would that be so bad? 

The phone only rang for a second before Yunho picked up. “Y/N, hey! What’s up?” Was it uncouth to answer right away or to let it ring for a while longer? He wasn’t sure what the younger crowd preferred nowadays, but he was sure that he wouldn’t let an opportunity to chat with his pretty neighbor slip away. 

“Hey, Yunho!” you began, rolling a metal slicer through the thick crust of your homemade pizza. Your neighbor always sounded so happy when you called him. You could practically hear his imaginary tail wagging. Was he like this with everyone? “What are you up to?”

Yunho’s voice sounded a bit farther away and somewhat strained when he spoke again. “Just fixing up my garden. Oh! My honeysuckles finally bloomed!”

“Already? That’s great!” You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. He was so cute. “So, uh, long story short, my date canceled on me after I made us pizza...There’s wine too.” You bit into your bottom lip, wondering just how desperate you were about to sound. 

“What a dickhead. Why would anyone cancel on you? I mean, you’re so–” he cut himself off, clearing his throat. “Cool, you know…” Yunho set his gardening trowel down onto the bed of dirt below in favor of bonking himself lightly on the side of the head. 

“Thanks, Yun,” you giggled, curling a lock of hair around your finger. You swallowed down your doubt before it overtook you. “Did you wanna, like…hang out?”

Maybe Yunho didn’t fumble, after all. “I’d love to, Y/N.” He looked at the newly bloomed flowers sitting in front of him. It was fate. “I’ll be right over, okay? Wait for me~” 

“See you~” you replied, matching his tone. Once you hung up, you looked down at the comfy hoodie and sleep shorts you had slipped into. You only had a few seconds to wonder if you should change or not before your doorbell rang. 

Yunho’s honey brown eyes widened upon seeing you, his cheeks growing warm. “H-hey, Y/N!” He nervously shuffled his feet, his scuffed Converse squeaking against the rubber doormat. He moved his arm in an odd way; it was clear he was holding something behind his back. 

“I know it’s not technically a date, but I thought I should bring you something…” 

Yunho held out a bouquet of the freshly picked honeysuckles, except now they were delicately tied together with some pretty lace. You looked down at them in disbelief, gently taking them into your arms. Tears threatened to leave your eyes when you tilted your head back up to meet Yunho’s gentle gaze. “Thank you so much…I…Are you an angel?” 

A big cheesy smile spread across Yunho’s face. “Just your friendly neighborhood gardener.” 

And with that, you moved aside to let him in, mirroring Yunho’s infectious smile.

-

“Nice place,” Yunho approved in an oddly soft tone, looking around your cozy living room. Taking a sip of wine, he meandered over to your impressive media cabinet, scanning all the various movies that neatly lined the shelf. “I haven’t seen a DVD in ages…” He turned his head to look at you, his eyes crinkled with amusement. “I didn’t know you were old school.” 

You let out a small snicker, pulling out one of the DVDs to run a finger along the smooth edges. “I’ve always preferred physical copies. Digital just isn’t the same…” You met his wholehearted gaze, your heart skipping a beat. “You know…?” You were so close to him, you were able to notice his pronounced smile lines as soon as his lips curled up. 

“You’re speaking my language, kiddo.” Yunho took another sip from his glass, looking off to the side. He shook his head absentmindedly, reminiscing about something. “Everything was so much better in the early 90s…” 

You pouted, gently elbowing him through his shirt. “Hey, I wasn’t even born yet.” 

“Oh, that’s right.” He took in a sharp breath, holding it for a second. Once he let it out, he just about deflated like a balloon. “I’m old…aren’t I?” 

Scoffing, you mindlessly flipped the DVD around in your hands. “We’re all aging.” You hoped you weren’t looking too deeply into his eyes. “Why does it matter what step you’re at?” 

Yunho was captivated. He hadn’t felt this kind of acceptance in quite some time. “I’ll try to think of it like that,” he voiced softly, reaching up to pat the top of your head. “Thank you.” 

A simple head pat from your seasoned neighbor shouldn’t have affected you the way it did, heat creeping up on your cheeks, the DVD creaking in protest inside your tight grasp. “Y-you better.” 

“O-oh?” Yunho was caught off guard by your bold words, surprised by his body’s immediate response to it. He slowly lowered his glass, trying to casually hide his half-chub from view. “I will then…” 

You tapped your finger rhythmically against the DVD, delighted with the sheepish look on the older man’s face. You wanted to attribute your growing confidence to the alcohol settling inside your stomach, but you knew you would’ve tested the waters either way. And with that, you reached all the way up to pat the top of his head. “Good.” 

There was an electric current of sorts lighting up the edges of Yunho’s brain — one that would spark sooner rather than later. Before he could say anything that might scare you off, he finally took a look at the DVD you had been holding. “Is…is that the original Spider-man?” 

“Thought you would never notice,” you giggled, his long fingers overlapping yours when you handed it to him. “I have one and two. Three doesn’t exist in my mind.”

Yunho was sure he met his perfect match. “We’re watching them,” Yunho decided for the both of you, his eyes widening with excitement. “Right now.” 

You leaned in a bit closer to him. “What are you waiting for? Put it in.” 

He followed suit, being drawn in like a magnet.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” 

-

It took finishing the cheap bottle of wine and movies together for you both to finally let totally loose around one another, though your matching flushed cheeks and sweaty palms weren’t a result of being tipsy. It was simply a side effect of being around each other. You were so engrossed with one another, that you didn’t even bother turning the TV off, simply letting the DVD icon freely bounce into each corner of the screen for what seemed like hours. 

Yunho couldn’t quite finish chewing the crust of his slice of cold pizza before he explained with his mouth full, “Peter knowingly killed Harry’s father. Harry following in the footsteps of his dad and becoming the Green Goblin was inevitable.” 

“You having delusional takes was inevitable,” you shot back, getting so worked up over this nonsensical argument that you almost choked on your own frozen pizza. “I should’ve known that as soon as you said Spider-man 2 was mid.” 

Yunho pressed closer to you, gently reaching up to squish your cheeks together. “Aww, someone’s grumpy.” 

Your body was beginning to overheat. He was so close to you, and he smelled so good, fresh like cool eucalyptus, and warm like burning sage. You almost couldn’t focus on getting under your older neighbor’s skin, your words coming out a bit garbled when you provoked him, “Harry was a terrible Venom, by the way.” 

Yunho let out a sharp, offended gasp. “You take that back!” he demanded jokingly, pretending to lunge at you, his hands instead stopping short of touching your shoulders, his breath getting caught inside his throat when you decided to actually lunge back.

“Never!” It was surprisingly easy to take down someone who was almost twice the size of you, but you knew internally Yunho was letting it happen. You almost wished he would give you the same treatment. 

Yunho fell back against the couch cushion, his limbs sprawled out, except for one of his thighs, the one you were haphazardly sitting on. He began blocking your feeble attempts to tickle him, not putting a whole lot of effort into getting you off of his lap. “Admit it was peak cinema, will you?” He sounded out of breath, but not for the right reason. 

“Maybe if you admit I’m right,” you sighed out, not stopping your pursuit until you finally had his obnoxiously long body pinned underneath your significantly smaller one. Now straddling his hips, you closed your fingers around his wrists to keep him still. You were hunched over now, only a few inches away from Yunho’s reddened face, feeling him move against you, causing friction in between your thighs. You quickly bit into your bottom lip, your brows joining ever so slightly. Yunho wasn’t answering you, just looking up at you with his big glossy eyes. It was driving you crazy.

“Lemme hear you say it…” 

Yunho blew a few dyed dirty blond locks out of his view. Everything was moving so fast a second ago, and now, it felt like slow motion. He watched as your zip-up hoodie slipped down one of your shoulders, immediately distracted by your thighs once he readjusted his own. Your tiny shorts were riding up, leaving little to imagination. “You’re right,” your neighbor exhaled out, his soft breath hitting the bottom of your chin. 

Yunho sure had a big smile for someone who had just lost an argument, fake or not, and that’s when it hit you, or poked you, rather. You had been sitting directly on Yunho’s clothed cock, now feeling it throb against your exposed core through the thin material of your shorts. This sudden discovery could no longer go unnoticed. “That’s…what I thought,” you huffed, dragging your hips forward in a slow, methodical manner, drawing a long, airy moan out of your older neighbor. 

“I-if you do that, I’ll, nnngh–” Yunho tossed his head back into the couch, feeling your equally sweaty hands slipping off of his wrists, your palms pressing into his warm chest. His hands immediately moved to your hips like they belonged there, his fingers so long and slender that they touched at the small of your back. “This is what you wanted all along, huh? You should’ve said something, kiddo…” 

“Aren’t you the one who got hard five minutes into our date? Don’t think I didn’t notice,” you teased him back, trying to distract him from the fact that you were actively leaving a wet patch on Yunho’s tented pants. 

“So, it is a date,” the older man breathed out, squeezing the soft flesh of your hips in between his fingers from underneath your hoodie, purposely dragging you across his manhood, before staying still, like he was testing the waters. “Aren’t I a lucky man?” 

You just about melted from his sudden display of dominance over your body, now needing more, as though you were just introduced to a new drug. “Sh-show me…how lucky you are.” He waited silently below you, quirking his head to the side, before you realized. 

“Please.” 

“Good girl.” It seemed like his hips began to move without his permission, rolling them up into you, his movements disjointed and sloppy. Desperate. He was desperate for you, his lovely little neighbor, the one he had spent countless days and nights yearning for. “Fuck, is this okay…?” he still found himself asking you from underneath his breath, needing more confirmation, despite actively making you grind against him like it was going out of style. 

“Yeahh,” you gasped, just as you completely relinquished your feigned control, Yunho manually guiding your hips along his trapped, aching cock, the frantic pursuit of friction only fueling the already raging fires inside the both of you. “Need more, actually…” 

“More?” Each small sporadic moan he heard coming from above was like music to his ears, more and more arousal shooting through his heated body and straight into his cock. He truly couldn't take it much longer, unless he wanted to bust inside his jeans like a loser. “Tell me…Tell me what you need, baby…” 

Of course, your cute, seemingly innocent neighbor would be the type to make you ask for it. Your cheeks stung, especially now that he wouldn’t stop trying to catch your wandering gaze. “Touch me, Yun...”

“Touch you…? Touch you where?” 

Chewing at your bottom lip, you pulled your tiny shorts up by the waistband, your pussy on full display for him.  “Here, please…” 

“Fuckin’ hell…” One of Yunho’s hands left your hips, gingerly pulling said shorts to the side to reveal your glistening cunt. Yunho had dreamt of this moment for ages, and now that he was finally living it, he was absolutely ready to give his all for the angel sitting on his lap. “Jesus Christ...All of you is so pretty...so perfect.” 

“I’m all yours,” you whispered, running your hands down his warm chest.

Yunho felt his brain short-circuiting in real time. “Fuck, you have no idea how crazy that makes me.” 

The man’s cock pulsed from underneath you, leading you to bite back a moan. “Show me.” 

“Then, sit on my face, angel.” 

Once you were angled above him, Yunho pulled the shorts you soaked up by the inseam, emphasizing the shape of your pussy for his own amusement. He rubbed the pads of his index and middle finger along your clothed lips, knowing he found your clit with his thumb when you let out a sharp gasp. “Right there, hm? Did I find your cute little clit, baby? 

“Uh-huh…” 

He rolled your clit around in slow, teasing circles. “Want me to find your hole next?” Your sheepish, yet eager nods only fueled Yunho’s already raving arousal. 

The unmistakable sound of fabric being ripped was registered by your senses first, before you watched your tiny torn pair of shorts disappear into the depths of the fluffy carpet beside the couch. The cold air that had hit your bare cunt was quickly replaced by your eager neighbor’s warm tongue. “Oh…!” 

Yunho greedily lapped up your arousal into his mouth, mapping out the entirety of your cunt with his lips and tongue, the bottom half of his face already shining with your wetness. The man eventually spread you open with two slender fingers, watching your hole flutter around nothing. “Found it…” He was so overcome with lust, that he sent a wad of spit into your cunt, before plugging you up with his tongue. 

“Yunho, oh my god–” You reached down to hold onto the sides of his head, your fingers curling around his dirty blond locks. 

It was when your hazy eyes met that Yunho began to tongue-fuck you in a vigorous manner, each and every impossibly wet sound your slick cunt made only furthering your neighbor’s desire to make you fall apart. He only ceased his worship to groan, “Fuck, do you get this goddamn wet for everyone?” 

Your thighs were starting to shake. You were close. “Just you, Yunho…” Now that the man was looking back up at you with those big puppy dog eyes, you couldn’t help but tug at his hair. “You look like you wanna say something, baby.” The small, uncharacteristically whiny moan he let out encouraged you to take matters into your own hands, rubbing your cunt along Yunho’s spread-out tongue, your puffy clit routinely bumping into his curved nose. He let out another pretty-sounding moan. It made you smile. “C’mon…use your words…” 

“Cum on my face, please,” he voiced urgently, his lips still pressed to your wet cunt. 

“Fuck, yeah, okay,” you gasped in agreement, only able to grind yourself across Yunho’s tongue a few more times, before he cemented his hands around your waist, forcefully bringing you down onto his mouth. 

Yunho couldn’t make out any of the words coming out of your mouth, too focused on the heavy moans you were letting out in between them. Your clit throbbed against his hot tongue, and once he licked down to your spasming hole, he felt the warm spray of your release hit his tongue. Savoring the taste of you on his swollen lips, he gazed up at you with pride. “That’s my girl.” 

With your legs shaking and your heart pounding, you climbed off of him, watching him sit up and lean back against the couch, his aching cock still trapped inside the confines of his pants. You couldn’t help but lick at your own lips. “Take it out, Yunho…”

Yunho obliged, hastily undoing his leather belt. His sizable cock smacked heavily into his abdomen upon release, leaving a trail of pre-cum behind on his t-shirt. A prominent vein traveled up from the base of his cock to the thick tip where it was an eye-catching shade of pink. It matched the flush on his cheeks and ears. 

Despite being confident about his size, there was a nervous glint in his eyes. “What do you think…?” 

“Pretty…” You were sure you were drooling. 

Chuckling in relief, Yunho patted one of his spread thighs. “Come here, princess. See how pretty it is up close.” 

And you did just that, perching yourself on top of Yunho’s lap like you belonged there. Yunho still couldn’t believe his luck. Not only did he have the privilege of rewatching his favorite movies with his pretty neighbor, but he somehow ended up with you on his cock. He was determined to make it worth your while. “You like being on top, huh?” 

“I just didn’t want to put all the hard work on you,” you pouted, gently running your finger around his tip to collect his arousal, giggling at the way he jolted against your touch. 

“Oh, because I’m like 20 years your senior? Think I can’t handle all this?” he asked under his breath, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass from either side. 

Mewing from his touch, you aloofly licked his pre-cum from your finger, making the man whine in response. “I think you should prove it, Yun,” you whispered near his lips, leaving a chaste kiss against them.  

Yunho’s thick tip entered you first, your cunt slowly stretching open to accommodate his size. “I’ll show you, baby…” Feeling you tense up against him, Yunho made sure he took his time with you, pushing into you inch by inch, diligently studying your face for any sign of discomfort. He did all of this, only for your greedy cunt to swallow up his cock to the hilt. 

You didn’t even know you could feel this full. You were positive he was inside your guts. “Yunho, fuck– it’s so big,” you gasped into his neck. A small puff of air hit the side of your flushed face. 

“You’re just tiny, sweetheart. You can’t help it,” he whispered against your skin, rubbing your lower back in gentle circles. His teeth nipped at your earlobe. “But, you can take it, yeah?” 

You gave him a small nod, but that wasn’t good enough for the man. He pressed his forehead into yours, running his thumb over your bottom lip. “I want to hear you say it, Y/N.” 

When he let out a small breath, you took one in, clutching the sides of his face. “I can take it, Yunho.” 

Yunho began to move before you had the chance to properly ride him, holding your soft hips, using them like handlebars. “Y/N, baby, you’re so tight…” Each thrust he made was purposeful, deep, like he wanted to reach the innermost part of you, and leave his mark there. You were so warm, so hot inside, the man was sure he was going to melt if he continued, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. “I’m going to make you mine…” 

You choked out a moan, tightening your grip around him. 

“Yeah?” His lips ghosted along your jaw. “That’s what you want?” 

“Please,” you begged Yunho, digging your nails into his back. “Make me yours.”

Yunho simply couldn’t hold himself back any longer, not while he had you like putty in his arms, your body limp, completely and utterly at his mercy. “There we go, baby…Don’t worry that pretty head about anything, just focus on this cock.” And he made sure you felt each and every inch of it, figuring he was hitting your cervix from the way you gasped for air like there was none left. 

“Fuck..!” you cried, delirious with pleasure. “I’ll cum, I’m gonna cum, Yunho, please, don’t stop–”

His hips matched the quick, wavered desperation of your voice, pounding himself in and out of your squelching cunt. “Fall apart for me, princess…Let me feel it…” He slipped his free hand between your heated bodies, giving your clit a few vigorous rubs with his calloused thumb. 

You couldn’t speak, simply opening your mouth to let out a soundless moan, your body jolting away from his touch. “That’s it…that’s it, my love, let go,” he sighed against your lips, his thumb still swiping over your sensitive clit, his throbbing length reaching places you never could without his help.

Just as your warmth spilled out of you, Yunho held you still within his firm grasp, his forehead resting against yours. He was almost completely out of breath, a few drops of sweat cascading along his temple. “Inside…?”

You nodded desperately. “Inside, please…” 

Yunho indulged in your mutual desire, pressing his hand down against your tummy to feel the space he took up inside you. He filled you to the brim with his hot white release, so much so that it spilled past your joined bodies and dripped out onto the couch. 

He managed to give you a small sheepish smile when your eyes met. “You’ll really be mine after this, won’t you, kiddo?” 

You couldn’t help but giggle, reaching up to caress his cheek. It was warm to the touch. “Good thing you live right next door.” 

© kitten4sannie, 2025.

[lay-z]

cotton candy clouds | 3

Synopsis: Due to his rank, status, and many combat achievements, Lieutenant Riley is assigned an emotional support hybrid by the brass; whether he likes it or not.

Pairing: handler!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x dog!hybrid!fem!Reader

Warnings/Info: 18+ MDNI | Reader is a purebred Samojede (dog)hybrid. Despite ears, tails, and their adapted nature/instincts and personalities, hybrids have human features. | bimbo!Reader; hypersexuality; heavy smut; tw: past (sexual) abuse/manipulation; cussing; fluff; jealousy; angst; hurt/comfort; eventual romance; strangers to lovers; dub-con elements (Mind the warnings for each chapter!)

*ESH – Emotional Support Hybrid

☁ ccc; masterlist

It’s 0400 in the morning, when Simon jerks awake from his light slumber by the sudden timid knock at his bedroom door. 

Hoping he’s imagined it, like many other times he’s hallucinated before, he rubs a hand over his tired features with a soft groan; eyes squinting at the silhouette of his bedroom door in the darkness, breathing shallow to pick up more potential noises while hoping nothing will follow– 

But there is another knock at his door, more distinct this time, and Simon accepts it with a heavy sigh before dragging himself out of his bed reluctantly, not bothering to put on another shirt. From past experiences, he knows better than to crudely grumble that this better be an emergency, because in nine out of 10 times, it turns out to be one. 

Flinging his bedroom door open, his fingers find the hallway’s light switch by muscle memory, illuminating it brightly and revealing you to his dismay, as if you could’ve simply disappeared in the past hours like he’d wished you would before falling asleep, and he finds you shifting on your bare feet with unnatural urgency. 

“Wot?” he gruffs out, voice even more rough and gravelly from a familiar combination of sleepiness and irritation. He pretends not to notice that you’ve changed into his shirt he’d previously given you; forces himself not to let his eyes flicker over your exposed legs, not even briefly, while the loose fabric conceals your curves from his direct view, its hem barely reaching up to the middle of your thighs. 

Still shifting from one foot to the other, you crane your neck to meet his hard stare with equal persistency; your own eyes puffy like you haven’t slept a single minute yet. “I have to pee,” you explain bluntly. 

He almost tuts, tilting his head to the side in slight disbelief. “And?” For a moment, you look confused about him daring to question why that is his problem; big eyes blinking up at him while your fluffy ears twitch a little before you finally solve the mystery for him: “Well, I always had to let Ryan know.” 

Ryan? As in… your previous handler? You must’ve been able to read it all on his naturally expressive face; his right eyebrow, split by a scar, cocking in question, his curiosity piqued now. “And why’s tha’?” he asks, despite not wanting to, and crosses his burly arms in front of his bare chest standoffishly. 

Without a hint of hesitation, you answer with the most innocent look on your face: “He liked to watch.” And Simon immediately regrets asking in the first place. His arms unfold, chest deflating as his empty stomach sinks, and to his horror, you continue yapping without a lick of pudency. “Sometimes he made me pee on his–“ 

“Gah! O’lright–” he nearly barks, eyes squeezing shut briefly while his whole body cringes at the mental image you just planted in his mind. “Stop, tha’s enough, okay? I get it.” He grumbles, muttering another “Fuck,” under his breath. Too much information. 

While Simon eventually ushers you towards the small guest bathroom by the front door, his mind keeps wandering back to the revelation you hit him with oh so casually, like it’s not something you should have always kept locked away between yourself and your bloody partner–or handler, in this case. As if you’ve ever enjoyed any of the stuff that bloody twat, Ryan, has ever done to you. 

His arms are crossed self-soothingly as he leans against the opposite wall of the bathroom door for no other reason than getting caught up in his own messy thoughts while you go on to do your business, when your earlier expression pops up into his head, and with it a revelation he should’ve come to sooner.  

The stagy nonchalance, the perfectly crafted, sweet smile that didn’t quite reach your tired eyes when you’d told him what one of your previous handlers made you do, the forced eye contact with him– 

And suddenly, Simon can feel that burning rage simmer in his gut, making his blood boil and the vein in his neck throb while his pulse quickens rapidly, when he comes to realize how people must’ve been taking advantage of you all your life, simply because of what you are, and what comes naturally to you with your nature as a hybrid–a bloody dog hybrid at that. 

Obedience. Submission. Loyalty. The urge to serve and please.  

When the water tap stops running and the door opens shortly after, his thoughts get interrupted and his mood changes promptly when his eyes lock with yours once more; long lashes fluttering against the bright light as you tilt your head back to meet his scrutiny. 

“For the record,” Simon starts as he pushes himself off the wall, “if you need to use the bathroom, you won’t ask anyone for permission again, understood?” 

Fidgeting with the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, he notices the sudden tension in your shoulders before you give a hesitant nod. “Yes, sir.” 

Simon huffs, nose wrinkling like he smelled something acidic. For someone so used to being met with respect and immediate obedience at a dekko, the word “sir” coming from your lips in his regard, makes him bristle. Who’s taught you to be so submissive? Are all *ESH’s like you? And which one of those fuckers made you refer to him as “sir” and only that like some perverted powerplay?  

He doesn’t realize how meanly he’s glaring at you until you speak up again, your voice meek and unsure: “Can I sleep with you now?” His eyelids blink and the crease between his eyes smoothens out. The innuendo isn't lost on him, though he can't tell if it's intentional. If this is Price’s idea about shock therapy, he will have to tell his Captain to piss off even more firmly come tomorrow. 

“In your bed... I mean.” You add with a hint of plea that leaves Simon horrified internally after the second of consideration he just gave to your request before simply grumbling a tired “No.” again.  

And the door to his bedroom falls shut behind him anew, leaving you to your own devices once more. 

It’s barely 0700, when Simon enters the Captain’s office with you and your things in tow. He doesn’t bother to knock; his nerves already fraying at the edges like cheap cotton yarn after having to refuse to take you out on a leash and ending up herding you through the base since you obviously have a knack for wandering off–and greeting every single bloody person you come across with a wagging tail. 

Captain Price raises an amused eyebrow along with his coffee mug while Simon puts your suitcase and the untouched gift basket down in a corner before coming to stand stiffly in front of the large, cluttered mahogany desk. 

His patience is running even thinner, when Price takes a slow, slurping sip of his coffee instead of assuring Simon that everything has been taken care of; that you’re no longer his problem now. “Well?” he asks brusquely, balling his gloved hands into fists. 

“Good mornin’, sweetheart,” Price greets you, immediately catching your attention as you stand by the bookshelf in the corner. Simon rolls his eyes behind his mask when your white tail twitches happily at the attention, though he manages to contain his scoff.  

“Hello! Good morning!” You chirp with a smile, taking a cautious step towards the other man while Simon catches the way your eyes flicker between him and his superior nervously, as if you’re unsure how to proceed with him present–and for a fleeting moment, it pleases him for some twisted reason. 

“How was your night with Lieutenant Riley?” 

Simon’s forehead creases underneath his balaclava at Price’s oddly phrased question and intervenes briskly before you can inhale enough air to answer: “Can we focus on the more important matters now, Cap’n? Did’ya come up with a solution yet?” Simon makes a vague gesture towards you while you stand nearby coyly, plucking pink lint from your cardigan out of your tail.  

Price lets out an exasperated sigh before his broad shoulders shake with a rough chuckle that causes Simon’s frown to deepen. “Christ, it’s not even eight in the bloody morning on a Friday, Simon–” 

“Sir, you promised to make the necessary arrangements, to find a solution–” Simon interrupts but stops himself, grinding his teeth hard enough to make his jaw hurt when Price shoots him a reprimanding glare.  

The phone’s shrill ringing cuts through the sudden tension and Simon uses it to his advantage as Price reaches for the receiver; steel blue eyes watching the Lieutenant like a curious hawk while he answers the call.  

Meanwhile, Simon’s dark tawny eyes fixate you as he takes one heavy step towards you. “Take a seat on that couch and stay here,” he tells you curtly, hoping his tone of voice is enough to get through your stubbornness. “Listen to what Price tells you, lass, because this is where we part, understood?” 

And then he turns on his combat boots, heads for the door before you can so much as nod, and Simon ignores the soft, keening whine behind him as he leaves you behind. 

And the day moves forward with its usual routine while Simon almost manages to forget about the whole ordeal with the hybrid as he deals with his rookies, upcoming drills and ignoring the paperwork he should’ve started taking care of last week, until he spots you across the parade grounds in the middle of chewing out one of his soldiers for fucking up an exercise for the third time in a row. 

His dark eyes zero in on you, casually strolling next to Gaz, who seems to be showing you around base, and Simon bristles at the way you smile up at the young Sergeant; batting your eyelashes while you seem to be hanging on every word Gaz utters to you. He’s not sure if his mind is playing tricks on him again, but he’s sure there is something else–something way too dark and familiar–hiding behind your unnaturally sparkly eyes. 

“S–Sir?” the rookie stutters nervously, pulling the Lieutenant out of his brief stupor. 

“Wot?!” Simon snarls from behind his mask, accent thick and dark eyes blazing with even more pissed off fury as they snap back to the rookie while the latter continues to shrink under his Lieutenant's sharp glare.  

And Simon ignores it when his soldiers start sharing new rumours and conspiracy theories among themselves about the cause of his particularly foul mood today.  

By noon, Simon has dragged himself into the busy mess hall for another strong cup of tea, though he stops dead in his tracks as soon as his friend’s booming and thickly accented Scottish burr can be heard above the general noise of his surroundings. 

It doesn’t take long to find the source, and Simon realizes that he must double his efforts to outrun your lingering presence. 

Soap stands at a packed table, one boot-clad foot perched on a vacant chair while one arm is slung around your shoulders casually, tucking you against his side while he flaunts his other hand with animated gestures as he speaks. 

Simon’s hands ball into fists at his sides, and the leather of his skeleton gloves creaks as he watches on, standing in the middle of the entryway to the mess hall, though everyone scatters and makes sure to swerve around him like Moses parting the Red Sea.

Soap is obviously showing you off to the other gawking soldiers as if you’re some prized possession–a mere thing, though Simon can’t tell what is worse–Soap acting like you belong with him now, or the fact that you’re obviously happy about it while your tail swishes behind you, all coy and jolly.  

However, while Simon’s eyes keep lingering on you for another moment, he notices the way your cottony triangle-shaped ears twitch and swivel, basically doing recon, while your eyes flicker and sweep over the crowd like you wish to disappear, like you’re wishing for protection, like you’re searching for– 

Simon’s jaw ticks under his mask as his teeth clench harshly, and with a shake of his head, he turns on his boots to walk out of the mess hall. Tea be damned. 

When Simon enters Captain Price’s office at the end of the day, ready to sign out for the weekend, his stomach drops when he spots you sandwiched between Gaz and Soap on the small leather couch in the corner by the window, while both Sergeants continue to entertain you. To his surprise, you don’t even seem to notice his presence as your attention is held capture by the two men. 

“Here to sign out, I assume,” Price remarks factually from behind his desk, not bothering to lift his eyes as he reads a document and takes a slow puff of his cigar. “Go on, then. Have a nice one, Lieutenant.” The Captain mutters through the thick plumes of smoke curling and dissolving into the air. 

But Simon barely pays any mind to the underlying sarcasm in Price’s words as he watches with narrowed eyes how you start nuzzling along Soap’s jawline while the Scot strokes the whole length of your plush white tail almost lasciviously.  

And suddenly, his swift feet carry him over there with a mind of their own, blood already boiling below the surface before Simon confronts the younger male: “The fuck ya think you’re doin’ there, Sergeant?” Sergeant, not Soap or Johnny, because Simon is vexed at the man for no other reason than feeling protective of someone who’s obviously being taken advantage of by his friend. 

He’s more than aware of how much of an opportunist Johnny can be–especially when it comes to women. Catch the bloody git talking to some lass who’s vulnerable, recently broken up with, instead of getting with the one who’s obviously looking for some quick fun at the pub. 

“Wha’?” Johnny blinks up at Simon with those freakishly big and bright blue eyes, feigning innocence. “Am doin’ nothin’, Lt. Jus’ showin’ the bonnie lass some much needed affection.” 

Simon clenches his teeth at that, restraining himself from saying or doing something he might regret later, when his eyes flicker over to Gaz, who gets up at once to remove himself from the situation with an awkward cough. Meanwhile, you’re practically lounging in Johnny’s lap, tail wagging lazily as you gaze up at Simon; a picture of innocence.  

There’s a moment of charged silence before Simon speaks up again; your name falling from his lips for the first time in a gruff command before he adds in a low growl: “Up.” 

The way your spine seems to straighten immediately, ears twitching and eyes widening at his sharp order, makes him feel–something, and it’s nothing good. “I said get up,” he repeats to you, glaring at Johnny as if to dare him to keep you on his lap, though Johnny simply rolls his eyes and lifts his hands in a placating gesture. “You’re comin’ with me, lass.” 

Gaz, leaning against Price’s sturdy mahogany desk, long legs crossed at his ankles, shares a look with the Captain, who leans back in his office chair, one hand resting on his chest while he takes another slow drag from his cigar with a smug glint in his eyes– the one he always gets after a particularly successful mission.  

Clutching your leash in his left hand, he ignores the way his mind is trying to warn him how the leather will soon burn through his glove like acid as much as he ignores the way you follow him so obediently, and Simon freezes when Captain Price addresses him again, producing a stack of papers from a black folder: “One more thing, Lieutenant–” 

Bureaucracy. Lovely.  

Simon groans internally as he reads the first few lines of the documents–your official handlership papers. “What if I refuse to sign ‘em?” he asks, eyes flicking up to meet his Captain’s. 

“Then I will!” Johnny calls out from his spot on the couch, earning a snicker from Gaz and a crooked smirk from Price while Simon shoots a glare in his friend’s direction. 

Price shakes his head, still smiling, while he flicks through the pages, before finding one in particular. “You know the answer to that,” he says and pushes the paper over his desk towards Simon before holding out his good pen and giving you a little wink as you stand patiently behind your new handler. 

“Don’t make me regret this,” Simon mutters under his breath, voice muffled by his mask as he snatches the pen out of his Captain’s grasp.  

And he positions the tip of the pen at the signature line, hesitating as his heart thuds against his ribcage in a slow yet harsh beat. His eyes scan over the page again, his mind in a confused frenzy, until he spots your own signature at the bottom of the document–a delicate swirl of letters next to a date a few days prior. 

@lucienofthelakes @kakashiislut @jggykhug09090 @edgarapoecolouredglasses @kerst666 @whos-fran @d1zzy-r1v3rs @userinaliel666 @annoyingstrawberryballoon @vmaxis @tessakate @dneicjefx @sushiumex @yourfavreggie @cmbghost @brokexintroverted

[nexysworld]

Summary: Raccoon City, 1998. Leon, a rookie officer, encounters an exceptionally unique girl while on patrol. Captivated by her and concerned for her well-being, he decides to take her under his protection. Slowly, his thoughts increasingly revolve around her, and his concern for her safety turns into an obsession. Pairing: Developing Yandere Leon x Puppy Hybrid Reader Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Smut, Oneshot, Mild Slowburn, Female Masturbation, Sex, Creampies, Dubcon, Controlling behavior, Incredibly Naive Reader, Non Outbreak AU, Fingering, Pillow Humping, baby trapping, mentions of past trauma/medical related trauma, Umbrella corporation being evil, sweet sex, fluff, no use of y/n, heat cycles. WC: 14.6K

A/N: This was a commission for the ever wonderful and lovely @explorevenus. I loved writing this and I hope you love it too. <3 Also thank you @dollfacefantasy for beta reading for me. :)

Read on AO3 || Ask Box || Masterlists

Thick fog permeated the area obstructing Leon’s view through the windshield of his cruiser. He didn’t really see a point in traffic patrols on nights like this; the road wasn’t visible, nor was any potential crime. Though he had to admit it was nice being able to sit and listen to the radio with nothing else to pull his attention. 

The particular strip of highway he was monitoring connected to the dense and dark woods that began the separation from the city to the mountains – it wasn’t uncommon for the shadows of the wildlife to occasionally dance against his headlights before the animal skittered off. It was something that used to unnerve him, but he’d grown used to it by now. 

The night bore on with little eventfulness, it was nearly midnight and time for Leon to phone in that he was ending his shift. Another night, exactly the same as before. 

Carefully, he pulled the vehicle out onto the road, keeping just slightly below speed to make up for the lack of visuals. Not paying much attention to anything besides the dim road ahead, he didn’t process anything in his peripherals – especially not the figure running towards the street.

“Shit!” He exclaimed, slamming the breaks. While the impact wasn’t high speed, it was too fast to stop in time – as he braced himself by squeezing his eyes shut, he heard the thump of something hit the hood. By the time he opened his eyes, he caught the tail end of the body rolling off and onto the road. 

“Are you alright?” He called out, not sure yet if it had been an animal or a person, as he shakily made his way over to the scene. His breath hitched upon the sight. “What the hell?” A girl, naked and ragdolled onto the pavement with a nonhuman set of ears and tail. Leon bent down, pressing his fingers to her neck. “She’s got a pulse, that’s good. Hey, can you hear me?” No sound came from the girl before him.

He knew he should’ve called for backup, had the paramedics on the way – but something about the whole situation was so peculiar it had his mind working at a negative speed. Gently he rolled her onto her back. There was no blood, just some scuffed up bruising on the girl’s left side from the impact, a goose egg forming on her head. 

Gently he tugged on one of the dog-like ears, expecting it to be part of a costume or a headband. Leon was thoroughly perplexed when he realized they were attached to the girl’s head, nearly jumping back when they twitched. A pained groan  left her mouth as she moved a bit, coming back to the conscious world, eyes lazily opening. Another muted mumble left her mouth as she rubbed at her head before sitting upright.

“Miss?” Leon put his hand on her shoulder trying to get her attention again.

She met his gaze and in an instant recoiled from him, growling as she scowled, even baring her teeth.

He noted the way the dog-ears on her head had pointed back all on their own, further evidence of them not being a costume prop. It was absurd, and he wasn’t sure whether to be on guard or laugh at her strange behavior. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been in such a strange situation in his entire life. “Miss, I need you to take a deep breath for me, calm down.”

She didn’t let up, growling at him with more intensity, her stance becoming tighter as if she was winding herself up to spring at him. Despite the hostility, he could see it in her eyes that she was scared.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He reached his arm out again, slowly. “I’m a cop, I help people….do you understand me?”

She gave him an untrusting glance, eyeing at the hand as if it were offensive to be in her presence, but the growling had stopped. He dared his hand even closer again, this time managing to gently touch her cheek with the tips of his fingers. “You’re safe with me.”

Her bottom lip quivered before she relaxed a little.

He smiled at her. “Can you talk?”

“Yes.” Her voice was hoarse.

“My name’s Leon. Do you have a name?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“You got roughed up pretty good,” He tore his heavy uniform jacket off, wrapping it around her shoulders before standing. “You too hurt to walk? Need help up?”

She shook her head again, using the hood of the cruiser to wobble back to her feet. He could see the goosebumps on her skin from where the cool air was hitting everything not under the jacket – though he quickly averted his eyes up from where her indecency started. He placed a hand on her back, gently motioning her to follow him to the door of the car, opening it and ushering her into the warmth of the back seat. “What happened to your clothes?”

“Don’t have any.” She stared back at him, tilting her head to the side, dog ear flopping with it. It was cute, probably the cutest thing Leon had ever seen, and he wasn’t even sure what he was seeing still.

“Where are you from?”

“I don’t know.”

“What are you doing out here alone?”

She didn’t reply, nor did he get a peep out of her for any other questions. When it became clear that she was shutting down, Leon had to think fast. “These are real, aren’t they?” He asked bringing his hand out to touch the soft ears atop her head again. He felt them perk up beneath his hand, and he gave a little scratch to it, hearing the telltale sign of her tale thump lightly against the leathered backseat. “You like that, huh?” 

She responded by closing her eyes, nodding into his touch.

“Do you have somewhere to go?”

“No.”

Leon wasn’t sure what to do with the girl. She hadn’t done anything illegal – unless you counted public indecency, but he could tell that probably wasn’t by her own choice. On the other hand, she clearly wasn’t normal. He didn’t even know what to make of the animal attachments or her quirky mannerisms. With her head tilted to the side, he had a more clear view of her neck now, a tattoo catching his attention, it was a red and white logo he’d seen before. “The umbrella logo?” He asked out loud, more to himself than her.

She responded by jumping back in the seat, growling again, covering the mark with her hand.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He said, putting his hands up defensively. He was even less sure what a pharmaceutical company had to do with a girl like her – he could only venture to guess. Whatever happened there, she clearly wasn’t happy about it. “I won’t make you go back.”

“I don’t want to go back.”

“Then we’re in agreement.” He reached out and grabbed her hand, shaking it. She looked confused by the gesture but didn’t stop him. “When you shake on something, it means its a deal, you can’t go back on it.”

“Really?”

“That’s right. Why don’t you come stay with me for the night? You look like you could use some food and I wouldn’t feel comfortable letting you stay out in the cold like this.”

“Ok.” He helped slip her arms through the holes in his jacket, zipping it up before clicking the seat belt into place. She squirmed against it in a panic. “No! No! Get it off!”

“Hey, hey.” He cooed again, cupping her cheeks. “It’s alright. It’s to keep you safe.” She shook her head, fat tears brimming at her lash line. “It is, I promise.” He held his hand out to her again. She took it this time, mimicking his earlier action of shaking it. “See? I have to keep my word now.”

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You weren’t sure of the man sitting in the front seat, or why you had to be strapped down again. You hated being strapped down. But there was something about his eyes, they were so kind compared to the scary men in white lab coats. His scent too, sweet and musky, not the sterile chemical smell that was scattered around the labs. Leon was nice. Leon was safe.

The warmth of the moving box you were in was all it took for the soreness and fatigue to catch up with you, eyes growing heavier and heavier until you found yourself sinking into that sweet and comfortable darkness.

“Hey, we’re home.”

The familiar sound of Leon’s voice tore you from slumber, annoyed, you let out a grumble readjusting in the seat. Only the jarring feeling of the cold hitting you as the door opened again was enough to yank you fully back to consciousness with a frown. “Don’t wanna move.” 

He sighed. “Then I won’t make you,” a moment later you were being scooped up into his arms. Being cradled against his chest felt nice, another thing so very unlike the way you were used to being treated. 

The inside of his home wasn’t what you were expecting. Every corner of the small house radiated his scent, and it was warm. Not a concrete wall or blindingly white light anywhere. The couch he’d plopped you down onto was soft, fabric feeling nice against your skin. It couldn’t even hold a flame to the sticky leather of Dr. Birkin’s office seat. Sinking into the plushness, you couldn’t help but bury your nose into one of the pillows, tail wagging heavily as you took in more of Leon’s scent.

“Comfy?” He asked with a soft laugh.

“Yeah! Yeah!”

“You wait right there, I’ll be back. I just need to get out of these clothes, then we can work on getting some food in you.” He ruffled your hair, making you giggle. The heaviness of his jacket and the comfiness of the cushions kept you in place. 

When he returned, he was in gray pants and a white shirt. He held out some fabric towards you. “I get the feeling clothes aren’t something you’re used too, but I think it would be best if you put these on.” There was a light flushing to his face as he said the words, though you couldn’t figure out why.

“Why?” You asked, taking them from his hand. They didn’t smell as deeply of him as you’d liked, instead a synthetic floral scent wafted to your nose making your face scrunch up. “They smell bad. I don’t need them.” “Bad? They’re fresh out of the laundry they should smell like – oh. Your sense of smell is probably a lot stronger than mine, isn’t it? Hold that thought.” He ran back up the stairs again, this time coming down with another shirt. He thrust it out waiting until you took it. “That better?”

Yanking it from his hands, you brought it to your nose, inhaling it. It was much better, wrapped in Leon, you nodded in acknowledgement.

“It’s my undershirt from earlier, thought it might work better. Let’s compromise, you can wear that shirt, but the boxers gotta be fresh since they’re not as close to your nose.” 

You considered his suggestion, rubbing the fabric against your face again. “Alright.”  He helped you unzip the jacket and slide it off before slipping the shirt over your head, then holding out the black bottoms for you to step into. 

You didn’t love it, the way the clothes felt against your skin, it was restrictive in a way you weren’t used to – but when he praised you, petting your head again you decided you could suffer through the torment of clothing for him.

“Good girl.” He praised again, and you were done for, practically crawling into his lap to get closer to the hand that was scritching behind your ears. “How’re you feeling?”

“Sore, but ok.”

“I think I have some medicine –”

“No!” You interjected. Medicine was never a good thing, it meant feeling hazy, fuzzy. It meant waking up with headaches, not feeling like yourself. Medicine was bad.

“It’ll make your head and side feel better.”

“I don’t care.”

“Ok, ok.” He gave in, pulling you closer and wrapping an arm around you, gently running his hand down the back of your head in slow repetitions. “But if it gets too bad, let me know. Are you hungry?”

“I am.” 

He nodded, reaching for the phone on the side table. He said something about a large with extra cheese, but you had no clue what that meant. 

In fact, when he eventually answered the door and presented you with the triangular piece of food, you were even more confused. “What’s this?”

“It’s pizza.” He replied as if that was obvious, holding up the dripping thing and taking a bite out of the pointy end. 

You sniffed at the unfamiliar food. It looked nothing like the slop that constituted your meals back at the lab. It smelled strange too – but as Leon wolfed down his own piece, you took that as a sign it was safe to eat, even if a little strange. 

You couldn’t stop the moan leaving your mouth as your tongue met it – a strange mix of flavors but all were delicious as it melted in your mouth. Practically inhaling the piece, you scrambled forward to stuff your face with more.

Leon chuckled, rubbing your back. “I get the feeling you’ve never been given a decent meal before.”

You shook your head, another piece of pizza dangling from your mouth as you did so.

“Well, from now on you won’t have to worry about that.” He assured. “Promise.”

Did he really mean it? You weren’t sure, but so far he’d been nothing but kind. You smiled at him, food still in your mouth as you reached over to shake his free hand, making sure he couldn’t go back on his word.

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The moment the front door flew open, Leon was greeted by the tell tale sign of her presence, feet pattering around against the wooden floors as she bounded towards him. He caught her in his arms like he had every prior day, holding her close and resting his chin on her head. 

Her tail wagged behind her so fast it was hardly visible, but he could feel the light air current it created. Nothing warmed his heart more.

“You have a good day, sweetheart?”

“Mmm yeah, was boring without you though.” She whined. “They played the same movie on TV like 8 times!”

He chuckled brushing some hair away from her forehead before planting a kiss there. “That’s the worst.” He agreed, gently prying the girl off of him so he could make his way further inside the home to begin their evening routine – the same routine they’d gone through each night since he’d taken her home.

Leon didn’t have much going for him, sure he achieved his goal of graduating from the police academy, hell he even got his first pick of the local stations. But it wasn’t as fulfilling as he’d hoped. He had no grand career plans, or even life plans. His only reason for joining the police force was so he could help people, something that he rarely even did.

Traffic patrol, pencil pushing, the odd bar fight break ups – that was his life. 

At least until now. 

He found his thoughts wandering to her every spare chance he got. The image of her stretched out on the couch taking a midday nap, her curious naivety and childlike wonder over new things. The most mundane of things still revolved around her – and he loved it. Having someone to come home to and worry about gave him a genuine purpose. 

“Leon?”

“Yeah?” He responded as he pulled the soft cotton tshirt over his head. 

“Can we go on a walk tonight, please? Please?” She begged as she sat on the edge of their now shared bed.

“I don’t know, you remember what happened last time - “ 

“I know, I know. But I swear this time I’ll stay right by your side. I’ll even wear the hat!”

He let out a sigh, it was hard to say no when she was looking at him like that. “What has you wanting to go out so badly?” The thought of it dredged up some anxiety. While she was free to run about the property as she pleased, taking her into public was a different challenge all together. Not only were her social skills needing some work, but he was worried that wherever she’d come from, whoever had kept her originally was still looking for her.  Despite the time spent together, she hadn’t opened up much about anything still, not that he blamed her.

“The TV said there’s a para aid tonight.”

“A para aid?” He had no clue what she was going on about.

“Yeah! They showed all these fancy lights and food.” 

“Oh, the parade! The one down by the carnival.” He said in realization. “I don’t know… there’s going to be a lot of people there, lots of smells and noises too…”

The way she immediately shrunk down on herself, deflated in defeat, broke his heart. Her tail stopped wagging, fluffy ears flattened against the top of her head. It felt so wrong to be the cause of that upset, gut wrenching really. “You promise to keep the clothes on the whole time, and not run off on me?”

She perked up immediately, so quickly he was under the distinct suspicion she’d only been feigning her upset to get her way. Even that was endearing though. “Promise!”

“Then we can go for a little bit.” 

When she was at home running around in his boxers and shirts, it was adorable. But something about her dressed in his oversized clothes did something to him that he couldn’t explain. The gray beanie keeping her ears in place, the blue jacket covering where her tail was belted to her back, the jeans bunched at the waist and pooling at her ankles – it was like a sign of ownership in a way. 

He wrapped his arm around her, keeping her tucked into his side as they walked. He could see her head darting around every which way as the overwhelming sights came and left their view. “You alright?”

“Yeah. There’s just so much.”

“I told you.” He chuckled, squeezing her into him more. “If it gets to be too much, let me know and we can head home, ok?”

She nodded, but her eyes were already glued on the twinkling set of lights from the moving vehicles ahead of her. Leon moved the two of them forward enough so they could see the floats clearly as they came by.

“They’re beautiful.” She said, eyes wide in amazement. He could feel her tail attempting to move under the confines of the jacket-belt combo. It saddened him a bit that she wasn’t able to express herself the way she deserved for such a happy moment.

“Not as beautiful as you.” He watched as she looked in the opposite direction of him, despite the glowing multicolored lights of the next vehicle making its way past the crowd, he could still see the twinge of a flush on her cheeks from his comment. She looked pretty like that, soft and vulnerable – he couldn’t remember the last time someone gave him that fuzzy feeling, made his heart skip a beat.

“You really think that?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Then why do I have to cover my ea - “

He shushed her, gently pulling her away from the crowd of people and the ongoing parade, until they were behind one of the teacup carnival rides. “You know you need to keep quiet about that when we’re out here. You promised.”

“But I don’t understand… if you think I’m pretty then why do I have to hide it?”

“Because - “ He was cut off when a group of teenagers bumped into them.

“My bad!” The kid said, waving them off as they walked away. The spot the two of them stood in was becoming more and more crowded as the street parade ended. With more people flooding in, Leon realized this wasn’t the time nor place for this conversation – but he knew he couldn’t leave her so upset either.

“Look, let me take you on one of the rides and we can talk, ok?”

“Rides?”

“Yeah, I think you’ll like it.” He said pointing to large ferris wheel rotating around. “That one, you get to sit in those carts and once you’re at the very top, you’ll get the view of the whole city.” Not waiting for her response, he took her by the hand leading her over to the line. Being halfway through the night there weren’t as many people lined up for the rides as there were for the games and food stalls. It didn’t take long before the two of them were seated, and the ride began to move.

He could tell by her body language alone the movement had her on edge. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t go any faster than this. We’re safe.”

“And I can look out?”

“Yep, just like I said, look.” He pointed out showing the bustling city below them as the wheel reached its peak.

“Oh wow.”

“That’s where I work.” He said pointing out to the large RPD building. “And that’s where I go to get the groceries.”

“And the pizza?”

“Over there.”

Now that the ride had been filled, it began to rotate again, she watched the city intently as it went around a few more rotations. He didn’t want to interrupt her intense fascination, so he let her be, only reaching out when she went a little too far over the opened window than he would’ve liked.

“Can we go again?”

“I can ask.” With the evening winding down more, and only a few others wanting to join the ride, the attendant nodded, allowing them to go again.

This time, her fascination dwindled slightly as she stayed put in the seat. “Can we talk about it now?”

“Covering up?”

She nodded, fidgeting with the cuffs of the jacket sleeve.

“When you’re home watching TV, do you ever see anyone that looks like you?”

“No.”

“It’s because you’re special, one of a kind.” He said tucking a stray strand of hair back under the beanie. “And I love that about you. My special puppydoll.” He smiled as she nuzzled into his hand. “But, because you’re so special, other people might not feel the same. People can be really mean when someone is different than them. I don’t want anyone to be mean to you, or worse, hurt you.”

A moment of silence washed over them, she scooted closer to rest her head on his shoulder, the cart swaying slightly.

“They were mean to me.”

“Who?”

“Where I came from.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t sure what else to say to that, it was the most information he’d gotten out of her and it hadn’t been a lot, but he was happy that she was confiding something after all this time. “I’m sorry that happened to you . . . Do you want to talk about it?”

“Dr. Birkin was the worst. There were two of them actually, lady Birkin and man Birkin. They yelled at me a lot, asked me tons of questions. Sometimes they would put me on this big table and tied me down, poke at me…” As she spoke her voice became more strained, her body tensing up along with it.

It was clear that her short explanation was merely the cliffnoted version of events, and he wasn’t going to pry further than that – he got the idea. “Hey, its ok.” He cooed, wrapping both arms around her. “You don’t have to worry about them any more. I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.”

“What if they hurt you?” She peeked up from where her head had been nestled into the crook of his neck, a small wet patch formed where her eyes had watered.

“Why would they do that?”

“They’re bad people… and I wasn’t supposed to leave.”

“I’m a cop – its our job to keep people safe. And guess what?”

“What?”

“It makes us much harder to hurt.”

“Hey Leon?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I try something I saw on the TV?”

“You’re not going to jump out of here, are you?”

She giggled and shook her head. “No, I think that would be dangerous.”

“Then go for it.”

He was surprised when her lips met his, her arms slinking around his neck. He returned the gesture, holding her tightly to him, closing his eyes. “You learn to kiss like that just from watching the TV? I’m impressed.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Can I do it again?”

“I’d never say no.”

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The wheel came to its last stop, this time the man outside insisting they had to get off.  Leon nodded at the man, helping you step out of the cart.

“You hungry? I think some of the food places are still open if you want to try them. Or we can grab something on the way home.”

“Yeah, I’m starving.” You followed next to him as he was headed over to where the strong cacophony of smells was coming from. Like many experiences with Leon, it was something you couldn’t have imagined. Closing your eyes, you sniffed around, trying to identify and take in each individual scent that you could.

A familiar voice broke your concentration, if it weren’t for the stupid hat, your ear would’ve lifted allowing you better access to the sound. Instead it was muffled slightly, soon another familiar voice layered over that one. 

Swallowing dryly, dared to peek at the offending voices and immediately froze. The Birkins, it was hard to recognize them without their white outfits, but it was them – blonde hair and all, between them a small girl grasping at both of their hands. 

“No.” Voice breathless you tried to take a step and grab at Leon’s arm, only to realize he wasn’t next to you.

“What do you want?” The stranger responded.

“I-I’m sorr - “ The man didn’t let you finish, already walking away. Leon wasn’t anywhere in your sight, and despite your eyes darting around you failed to pick up on him or his scent. The surrounding crowd was beginning to overwhelm you, too much noise, too much to look at and take in.  “L-Leon?” No response, not that your voice could contend with the chatter around. 

A hand on your shoulder made you jump. “There you are.” Man Birkin. “We were wondering where you ran off too.”

Not giving the man a chance to do anything else, you took off. He gripped at the back of Leon’s jacket, almost yanking you backwards, but you caught yourself and slipped out of it, not caring if the surrounding people caught sight of your true form – all you were concerned with was getting away, putting as much distance between yourself and the Birkins as you could.

It wasn’t long before the maelstrom of colors and scents from the carnival died down, morphing into a disgustingly musty and cool toned city view. Legs burning, you stopped only to give yourself long enough to pant, trying to catch your breath.  Peering around the corner and doing a quick 360, there was no one in sight, not Birkin, not Leon, not anyone.

A new sense of fear encompassed you, the realization you were lost and alone again, just like that night in the woods. Even worse, fear that if Leon did find you, he’d be angry. The hat you were wearing long blew off in the wind, the belt having been ripped off to free your tail – it made running easier. You were exposed exactly in the way you’d promised him not to be, and you’d managed to leave his side too.

“He’s going to hate me.” You whined into your hands, slapping at your face as the tears began to spill. “I’m so stupid. So stupid.”  

Once calm enough to think the situation through more, you looked around again to assess your surroundings. The streets were empty, and it was a lot darker than it seemed from the top of the wheel. Eerily quiet too, so unlike the bustling cities you watched on the little box TV at home. 

Gripping your tail with both hands nervously, you started your trek down one of the narrow roads. If you’d learned anything from the TV, it was that you don’t stay in alleyways. Besides that, what knowledge you had was limited, a fact you were now painfully aware of upon realizing that you didn’t even have a clue of where you were walking to. A green sign pasted to the wall looked familiar. There was someone wearing clothes similar to Leon’s, and a big white arrow pointing down the path ‘RPD’, you’d recognized those symbols from Leon’s uniform, and the huge sign he’d pointed at during the ferris wheel. “Cops help people.” You reminded yourself of his words.

You followed the arrow, stumbling about until you were before the gigantic building. A man was leaning against the wall, talking into a small radio. He was huge, the biggest man you’d ever seen, brown hair and muscles everywhere. His clothes weren’t quite the same as Leon’s but seemed different than the other people at the carnival. Nervously, you stepped forward. “A-are you a cop?”

He looked down at you, despite his larger and slightly more gruff exterior, his eyes were soft and kind like Leon’s. “Not exactly, something like it though. Are you alright?”

“I’m looking for Leon.”

“Leon? Leon….oh officer Kennedy. He’s not working tonight.”

“I know, I got separated from him.”

“Ah, I gotcha.” He took a step forward, instinctively you took one back, not trusting of the stranger just yet. “Hey, no need to be scared. I can help you.”

“But you’re not a cop?” You asked, taking another calculated step back.

“Not a cop, but I still work here with Leon. See?” He pulled some type of badge out. It was too far away and too dark to see clearly, but the shape of the badge itself looked like the one Leon usually kept in his uniform pocket. “The name’s Chris, Chris Redfield. Come on, you can come inside and wait while I call him.” 

“Ok.” Where you had been standing it was dark, but once the streetlight fully illuminated your figure, you saw his face change. Sensing no malice, you didn’t make a move to run, but you didn’t walk any closer either. 

Chris opted to come to you, eyes narrowing suspiciously at your form. Your ears were flat to your head as you looked up at him. “Are those...real?” It was so similar to your first meeting with Leon, even the large hand coming down to pat your head, scritching at them. It felt so good, you’d let the grip on your tail go, rubbing back into his hand. You recognized the look of concern that spread over his feature, but it was quickly replaced with a smile as he guided you into the building, and past several doors. 

The man took a seat behind a desk, watching you as he picked up the phone. It rang a few times before he put it back onto the receiver, no answer. “You don’t look so hot. Hungry? Need a drink?”

“Please.”

“Here.” He said, opening a metal tin before handing it to you. “Homemade by my sister, guaranteed to be delicious.” He stood from the rolling chair he had been seated in, looking down at you. “Wait here for me, I think his cell number is somewhere around here. Just don’t leave this room, got it?”

Already halfway through scarfing down the sandwich, you couldn’t respond. You nodded in agreement though.

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Leon had never experienced anxiety on this level before, not once in his entire life. One moment he was ordering food, the next he realized you hadn’t been by his side. His heart sank. 

The next hour he’d spend running around the carnival area, up and down the streets where the parade was, only to come up empty handed. When he’d stumbled upon his jacket, he felt sick to his stomach – only worst case scenarios came to mind; your dead body on one of his police reports, headlines about a mysterious science experiment gone missing, or arguably worse – someone else taking you home for their own pleasure.

The thoughts only worsened when he pulled the antenna up from his phone before flipping it open. “Leon? It’s Redfield. I think I have your uh….friend here. The one with the extra parts.”

“Is she ok? Is she hurt? How’d she get - “ 

“She’s fine. But we need to talk. I’m keeping her in my office for right now, no one else is here besides some pencil pushers, but some of the patrolling squads will return soon. I won’t be able to hide her all night.”

“Shit.” Leon dug his sneaker into the gravel. “I can be there in 15, no more like 25 with all the traffic leaving. Look Chris, I can explain. “

There was some shuffling and Chris greeting someone on the other end of the line before his voice picked up again. “Bad news, some of the teams are already back.” His voice was now a low hushed whisper. “Look, just go home, I’ll meet you there with her. You’re still at the old sheriff's house right?”

“Yeah but wait - “

“Gotta go.” 

Leon bristled as the call cut off, snapping the phone shut. The walk to his jeep, and the drive back home were done in silence. He felt out of his own body, swishing back and forth on waves of anxiety. He paced back and forth waiting for an update. 

It felt like a lifetime had passed before the glow of Chris’ headlights made an appearance through the front windows of the house. Leon couldn’t contain the childlike giddiness he felt, bolting out the front door and over to her; crushing her into a too-tight hug.

“Leon…” She whined, attempting to squirm under his grasp.

“No.” He said firmly, refusing to let go. “I can’t believe you ran like that, you promised me.”

“Leon it wasn’t -”

“I don’t care. Don’t you ever scare me like that again, do you understand?” He finally gave her enough room to look up at him. He felt horrible at the knee-weakening stare she gave back, but he couldn’t bring himself to calm down enough to comfort her just yet. “Go inside and wait for me, I have to talk to Chris.”

“But Le - “

“Go.” He said more firmly, pointing towards the front door. He waited for her to slowly make her way towards it, ears down and tail nearly tucked between her legs.

“Hey, don't be so hard on her.” Chris said, putting his hand on Leon’s shoulder.

“Yeah I know. I’ll apologize later. Thanks for bringing her home.”

“Sure thing.” There was a moment of silence that passed between the two men before Chris finally piped up again. “Leon . . . how do you even have that girl? I saw the umbrella logo on her neck, she’s probably some experiment, or worse, a bioweapon.”

“A what? Her? No. No way.” Leon said, shaking his head. “She’s different...but harmless.”

Chris sighed. “I think so too, but you never know. How did you even get her? How long have you had her?”

“Almost a year now. I kind of stumbled on her one night during the end of my patrol. She was so scared, I couldn’t send her back Chris, not if you saw that look in her eye.” 

“I get it.” The taller man said. “You should be more careful. I’m not sure the ins and outs of it all myself, but I know that higher ups in the S.T.A.R.S. unit sometimes work with Umbrella. I wouldn’t even be surprised if that girl was reported to them already. I’d keep her away from the city from now on.”

“You’re right.” It wasn’t like he’d let her go out often as it was, but after tonight, he was realizing that she wasn’t made to go out at all. She was far better off here, at home. He also knew that she wasn’t going to like that change - but it was for her own good. “You’re not going to uh…say anything are you?”

“Nah.” Chris shrugged. “I don’t see a point, it wouldn’t benefit anyone. She’s better off with you, I think.”

“Well thanks again for bringing her back.”

“No problem. If you two need anything, let me know.” 

Leon nodded, he watched as Chris made his way back to his vehicle and waved him off, not moving until it was out of sight. The anxiety from the evening hadn’t fully left Leon, and now that she was back home and it was just the two of them, he was nervous. Not in the sense that he thought they would have a confrontation, but he knew given everything it would be awkward and he hated the feeling of awkwardness. 

“Hey, sweetheart?” He called out noticing she wasn't splayed across the couch like he expected. The non-immediate response set off alarm bells in his head, but he was relieved when she came trodding downstairs in her usual attire. 

“What?” 

As expected, she didn’t look happy, brows knitted together anger written all over her face. He pulled her into another hug with one arm, his free hand gently smoothing over the top of her head, focusing on her ears in a short rhythmic pattern. “I’m sorry for snapping at you like that. I’m just happy you’re safe, and home.”

“I didn’t mean to run off.” She mumbled against him, clinging to him in a hug of her own. “Really. One moment I couldn’t see you anymore, and I saw the Birkins there. It was so scary, I didn’t know what to do.”

“I should have kept a closer eye on you. I’m sorry.” Leon gave her a quick peck of the lips before pulling back.

“Leon?”

“Yeah?”

“Am I in trouble? I let Chris see me and -”

“No. No, you’re not in trouble.”

“Are you going to be in trouble?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Chris is a cool guy, you can trust him.” 

“Ok.”

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It was about a week after the night at the carnival that you noticed something was different between you and Leon now. You weren’t sure if it had to do with the kiss, or the rest of the evening. A sneaking suspicion told you it was likely both. 

Since that night, he never seemed to leave you alone. It wasn’t a bad thing, at first. New rules in place meant you weren’t allowed outside without him now, even on the property. He taught you how to use the house phone just so he could start calling several times a day to check in. When he was home, he was all over you, scarcely allowing you to even remain in a single room by yourself. 

It was all for your own safety, is how he’d explained it.

He cared about you more than anyone else ever had, and the added attention made your stomach tingle, tail wagging and ears perked. 

But soon it became too much, suffocating as time went on. It left you with torn feelings, on the one hand you knew you should be grateful to Leon, should soak in all the affection he bathed you in. And you wanted to really. Guilt ate away at you every time one too many hugs became irritating. One too many phone calls pulling your concentration from your current task. Going stir crazy in the same 4 walls day in and out. Not even being able to sit alone on the porch for a minute of solace. 

It was so reminiscent of the lab, and you hated yourself for making that connection – because Leon was not like the Birkins or anyone else there. He was kind. He was sweet. You loved him. Moreso, even being locked within the house, you had more freedom than those sterile white walls and blinding lights that you’d grown accustomed to. 

You felt shameful disgusted with yourself for harboring such thoughts. Despite that, the annoyance didn’t go away, it only grew despite yourself.

“Leooonnnnnn.” You whined, angrily tapping your fingers against the kitchen table. “You’ve been gone every day this week.”

“I know, I know. But Marvin’s been out sick, they needed someone to cover his shifts. Next week I’m all yours.” He said, ruffling your ears and kissing the top of your head like he always did. It was a small comfort, enough that you felt your tail do a single little thump against the seat. It wasn’t enough this time to improve your soured mood.

“I haven’t been out of the house in almost two weeks and that was just to sit on the porch. I’m bored. Can’t we go on another walk?”

“I told you to stop asking me that.” 

You recoiled. He didn’t yell, Leon never yelled, but his voice was sharp and cut like a knife. His usually soft features were pointed with irritation, and it seemed so unfitting for him. It was only the second time he’d ever snapped at you like that. He wasn’t wrong either, you’d been shot down every time you’d asked, and when you kept up the onslaught of begging, he had respectfully told you to stop. 

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He said as he idly grabbed the ingredients for dinner. “I know you’re going a little stir crazy here, I get it. Really.”

“Does that mean you might change your mind?”

“No.” He said, shooting you a weak smile.

“But you just said you understood.”

“I do understand. But sometimes what’s best for us isn’t what makes us happy, we gotta stick it out.”

“How long do I have to stick it out?”

“I don’t have an answer for that. But I promise it won’t be forever.” 

You weren’t sure if you believed him, but nodded anyway. “Ok.” 

This time when he ruffled your hair, you felt a strange warmness waterfall over you. It had you squirming in your seat. “Can I go sit on the porch while you make dinner at least? Please?"

He shot you a warning look, but it softened in an instant. "Fine, but only the porch, not a step past it. "

"Thank you! Thank you!" You cheered, assaulting his cheek with an onslaught of kisses the moment he'd agreed. You heard him say something as you skittered off, but it didn't register, beyond happy to finally have a taste of fresh air - a view of something that wasn't the same set of walls for the first time in weeks.

The air slapped your face immediately. It was chilly outside, so much so you were debating heading back to grab a coat or a blanket, but the fear that you may not be granted permission to go back out if you even stepped an inch back into the house, kept you planted. A little cold was nothing compared to feeling of the wind in your hair, the different scents of nature drawing their way into your nose.

Your ears twitched, picking up the sound of something nearby. Chirping. A bird! It was perched in a tree at the end of the property where the well-groomed lawn spread out into the wilderness that spanned beyond the old fence.

The bright red was unlike anything you'd ever seen before in person. You wanted a closer look, just to observe it, halting the moment your foot lifted off the threshold of the porch. Leon had only permitted you to stay on the porch. He trusted you.

Your legs felt antsy, burning with the need to move, run. Your mind itched with the want to get closer to the small bird before it flew away. Before you were confided to the house again. A pathetic squeal-like whine worked its way from the back of your throat as you gripped the ledge of the porch, bouncing your legs up in down as if you were marching. You just wanted to see it.

Sure Leon would be mad if he knew, but if you were quick enough, only a minute, then he'd never know. Besides, you would still be on the property, technically.

Apprehension settled in your stomach, tethering you to the porch. "Leeeoonnn, I'm hungry. Is dinner almost done?" You called, cracking the back door open just enough to hear his response.

"Five more minutes." He called back, "I promise you won't starve, just wait out there for me, we can eat on the porch tonight."

"Ok!"

Five minutes. The door closed with a creak, the latch of the doorknob clicking into place. The fiery bird was still there, perched happily on the branch. Five minutes. You repeated on more time before taking off.

It felt so good, the bottoms of your feet flattening against the grass with each step. The wind knocking your hair backwards out of your face as you ran, tail and ears pointed. You had to resist the urge to spin, arms out, happy to be in the center of the open yard again. But there was only limited time, and you needed to make sure your little trip meant something.

Five minutes. "Crap." You muttered to yourself. "How long has it even been since he first said 5 minutes?" Realizing you didn't have the time to linger, you continued your journey jogging until you clutched the fence with both hands. "Ow!" The fence was splintered a part from age, but you hadn't expected it to bite you.

Only one hand was injured, little speckles of blood forming against your skin. The most damage done to your index and middle fingers. You shoved them into your mouth to suck and lap at the injury, ignoring the metallic taste in favor of finalizing your mission.

There it was in all its glory, this fat red bird seated in its nest. It turned its head side to side a few times as if looking down at you. "Wow." Murmuring around your injured fingers, your free hand cam up to reach out to it. It chirped and hopped around before fluttering it's wings and landing on your extended finger.

Eyes wide as saucers, your face almost hurt from how outstretched your smile was. Despite being so plump looking, the bird was surprisingly lightweight. It chirped a few more times. "Hello." If not for the stinging in your left hand reminding you of the current situation, you'd have felt like the Disney princesses Leon showed you.

Leon that's right, dinner would be done soon and you had no idea how much of the five minutes had been wasted. The turning off the doorknob in the distance had your ear twitching in that direction. It was too late to head back.

The sound of plates crashing to the wooden flooring made you want to cry, the bird sitting on your finger kept you where you were. Your hope was that maybe Leon would see it, understand why you'd done what you did, but the heavy stride of his steps told you otherwise.

"Leon -"

"Don't."

The last loud step by your side had the bird flying away, making you sad.

"You promised me! The first time I give you an ounce of trust and this is what you do?"

"I'm sorry - "

"You're always sorry! Do you want to be taken away? Do you want to go back to the lab, or worse be stuck with some stranger?"

"No."

"Go back inside."

"Leon the food -"

"Go. Back. Inside."

It was the first time Leon ever looked genuinely angry, his sky blue eyes feeling like lasers boring into the back of your head as you shamefully walked back towards the house. The remnants of dinner scattered over the porch from where he'd dropped them.

"Careful." He commanded, lifting you from behind to help you up and over the mess of glass and food, though the tone was far more annoyed than caring. You stood in the corner of the living room, watching him stomp around the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets a little too roughly as he grabbed cleaning supplies.

Even the way he knelt down to begin scraping up the glass and food remnants off the ground just radiated negativity. "I can help clean it up."

"Don't bother." He said, getting as much of the mess into the dustpan. You sunk to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest, a defensive pose learned when you were still with the Birkins.

Leon didn't say another word to you as he stormed around the place, and you didn't have the guts to say anything to him either. You were in trouble. Real trouble.

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 He can't remember the last time he was so angry. He didn't usually get angry. Just wasn't that kind of guy. On the rare occasion it did happen, he was pretty good at reigning it in.

Now though? It felt like pure heat radiated from every vein in his body. He couldn't breathe without steam working its way from his lungs. He wasn't sure what he was the most upset about, the breach of trust? The defiance? Or maybe the way she batted those lashes, the stupid bird on her hand.

Manipulative. That's what she was being, he was sure of it. Manipulative because she thought she understood how things worked, thought she could just decide to do whatever she wanted without consequence. Worse, she thought he was a pushover that would just allow it at every turn.

He pinched his nose, leaning against the counter. When he finally felt a little more numb to his emotions, he allowed himself to look over to where she was sitting, curled up in the corner like a child. He wasn't sure if it was genuine submission he was viewing, or another way of trying to get under his skin. The gurgling of her belly coupled with the silence from her mouth was enough to at least draw his focus from the situation to her immediate needs.

Leon pulled the phone off the receiver, speed dialing the Chinese place. He wasn't in the mood to cook again, and while he didn't want to reward your misbehavior, he couldn't help the pull of the crab rangoon, knowing it would make his own mood improve.

"Get up." The words came out harsher than he had intended and when she flinched from him, he felt nauseous. He cleared his throat, trying again, this time much softer. "I need you to get up, you can't stay there all night."

"Are you mad at me?"

"Yes." She look like she'd been shot. "But I won't be forever. " He gently tugged her arm, helping her to her feet. He ruffled the hair on her head before smoothing his hands over her ears a few times. "I ordered something to eat. Let's talk before it gets here."

It wasn't a request, but he still appreciated the nod he got in return as he led her over to the couch. He had to admit now that he was mellowing out, he didn't like the invisible separation between the two of them. Now he finally understood what people meant about the tension being thick enough to cut. The way she was sat, stiff as a board hands palm up in her lap, he bristled once he realized one of them was injured. If it weren't for the still lingering simmer of anger in him, he'd have given in already pulling her close and doting on her until that sad look on her face melted to the gleeful smile he was used to.

"You broke my trust." He began, "That really hurts my feelings. The first time I give you a little leeway and this is what you do? I'm so disappointed in you."

"I just wanted to see the bird..."

"Why didn't you come ask?"

"Because you would say no! You always say no!"

"I didn't say no to the porch, did I?"

"No...but - "

"I let you do almost anything you want, damn it! The only time I say anything is when it has to do with your safety. So the few rules I have in place I expect to be followed. It's that simple. You're more human than dog, control yourself next time." He was raising his voice again, and he hated the sound of it. His own words rattling in his head and yet they continued to flow like a venomous waterfall.

"It was just the end of the yard. I thought I'd see it up close, then come right back."

"And you got hurt anyway. Look at your hand. That fence was old, dirty, that could get infected. And then what? It's not like I can take you to a regular hospital...." He put his palm over his face, sensing he needed to calm down all over again.

"You're right. I'm sorry. Really I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He wish he hadn't looked. Her face contorted and scrunched, red, tears and snot running down her cheeks. His chest tightened, mouth suddenly dry. That wasn't manipulation. No one ugly cried like that if they didn't mean it. It didn't change the fact that the trust he had in her was fractured, but any other negative feelings fizzled out with a pop.

"I believe you." He cooed, reaching forward to wipe some tears away from her face. "I forgive you. "

"I...love you....Leon" The words came between wracked sobs.

"I love you too." He wrapped his arms around her tightly, letting her sob into his shoulder. "It's ok. It's ok," he repeated as he pet her hair. "You just gotta listen from now on, sweetheart. I don't want anything bad to happen to you. I don't want to lose you. It would break my heart."

"I will. I promise."

He wasn't so sure of that. He believed that she believed it though, and that sentiment was enough. He let her finish out her crying session until the delivery driver knocked on the door, tearing them out of the moment.

"Just a minute!" He called out, returning his attention to her. "After I grab the food, we'll get your hand cleaned up, eat, and get some sleep. Tomorrow will be better, alright?"

"Promise?"

"Promise." He cooked his pinky finger around hers, pressing a quick peck to her lips. Her ears pointed up in return, tail lifting to slowly move back and forth. That was his girl.

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 That strange warmness from earlier was back. A feeling of longing you couldn't quite place tugged at your core while heat made every part of your skin tingle, the bedding sticking to your clammy body. The wedge of moonlight coming in through the window caught your attention, pouring all your focus into eyeing it, trying desperately to ignore the discomfort, and to not wake Leon up. The last thing you needed right now was to have him upset with you all over again.

But whatever was wrong with you had slowly become too much, worsening by the hour.

The floorboards creaked with each step, feet feeling heavy as you tried to pad your way to the bathroom as quietly as you could. Even your lungs felt like you'd run a mile, panting the only way to get enough air without feeling suffocated.

One time, at the lab, you remembered feeling this way. It didn't last long before lady Birkin was stabbing a needle into your arm, frigid liquid cooling you down from within your veins. From that moment on, the shots became regular. They didn't explain what any of it meant, but you never felt that all consuming inferno again -- at least not until now.

Liquid cold. Instant relief.

That's all you craved. That's all you needed. That's all you could think about.

Liquid cold. Instant relief.

Stumbling into the bathroom, you flicked the light on, gripping the sink with your good hand so tightly a part of you was scared you'd crack the porcelain from sheer force of will. Your breath expanded over the mirror, fogging it up each time a heavy breath escaped. "Ok...I got this.....ok...." You told yourself, scuttling over to the tub.

Shower or bath, you mulled over the options quickly trying to make a decision. Leon took cold showers. He told you so, sometimes in the middle of the night, other times in the morning. You'd vaguely wake up to something poking you, and he'd be shuffling out of the bed. 'Shh. Go back to sleep.' He'd coo. 'Just feeling a little hot, 'gon take a cold shower, and I'll be right back.'

Good enough for you. The overhead shower roared to life as you turned the cold knob to max, water pattering loudly against the tub. You didn't even bother to strip, flopping yourself into the basin, clothes and all.

It felt like ice shards clattering against you, steam sizzling off your skin from the sheer difference in temperature. In any other situation, it would've felt miserable, too cold and uncomfortable. But right now, even the stinging pain of the water felt intoxicating compared to just being hot all over. It wasn't as good as the shot from lady Birkin, but it was enough to sooth.

As your body regulated its temperature, the aching sensations became more noticeable now. A pang of something between your legs had you clamping them together instinctively, skin making a slapping noise from the mix of force and wetness.

Your nipples hurt, hardening beneath the water, too rough against the tank top's fabric you had on. You needed to be freed from the clothes, weighing you to the bottom of the tub and sticking to your skin.

The shirt was the first to go, tugging it up and over your head, frustrated as the wet fabric seemed to stretch and stretch before it finally decided to free you of its grasp. The wet shirt hit the door with a smack and a plop, before sliding down onto the tile floor. You hiss when your nipples were exposed to the air, droplets of water making direct contact with the pruning skin. It wasn't as painful as the fabric, but it was definitely more sensitive.

Flattening your palms against your chest, you kneaded at your breasts, hoping warming them up a bit might help. It served its purpose, but each movement, skin rolling against skin made unfamiliar sensations of longing pulse between your legs.

You groaned, squeezing your legs together again. Every time you fixed one issue, another seemed to pop up somewhere else. You just wanted it all to go away.

The boxers were next, discarded next to the tank top. Now you felt weightless where you laid, nude flesh encompassed by the hug of the tub, water splashing down on you like rain. You were sure this is what heaven felt like, until another round of pulsating from your core made you bristle, ruining your moment of peace.

"No more..." you breathed out loud, startling yourself with the unrecognizable tone of your own voice.

You adjusted, one arm snaking its way under your neck for support, the other finding itself between your legs hoping to massage out the sensation if you could, like dealing with any sore muscle. The cold tips of your fingers brushed past something that made you gasp, toes flexing. A cold jolt, a warm tingle.

Tentatively, you brought your fingers back to that spot again, pressing down. It felt good, not quite as good as the first time, but the firm pressure seemed to quell some of the throbbing. You could feel your pulse in your fingers - were they being warmed by whatever was between your legs? Or was the cold of your fingers icing the spot there. You couldn't tell, both sensations melding together.

Why didn't it feel like the first time? Your brows came together, as you thought, eyes slipping closed. Spreading your fingers outward in a V shape, you felt it again, that jolt that made your lower half jump. The little bump, you discovered, was the key to that feeling.

Experimentally, you ran your index and middle finger over it again in a circular motion. A strangled noise worked itself out of your throat, and a muscle you weren't even aware you had tightened. It felt so good, but not enough. A burning pleasure on the outside, a dull thrum of need somewhere deep inside of you.

You wanted more room, spreading your legs as much as the tub would allow before hooking one over the ledge. You could worry about the water running off your foot and onto the floor later.

The water above served only as background noise now, your skin long numbed from the cold, allowing your brain to focus solely on what was happening below.

It felt like something was building up, like every sensation was working towards something, something you couldn't grasp. Frustrated noises echoed through the tiny bathroom, and your arm muscles burned with overexertion. Despite that, the need for something, anything, kept you going, desperately rubbing your fingers over the bundle of nerves in no rhyme or rhythm.

As fast as your body would allow, you pawed at yourself closer and closer until it felt like you were tossed off the edge of a cliff. Every muscle in your body tensed up. You forgot how to breathe. Splotches of white and black lights danced behind your eyelids. The shower was silent against the heartbeat hammering against your eardrums. Fuzzy ears twitched with your pulse, tail sloshing back and forth in the shallow water.

And as quickly as it came, the feeling was gone. So much rubbing, so much effort, so little warmth and too much exhaustion.

You went lax like a rag doll, leg sliding back into the tub, sore arm left where it was, hand still resting flat against your pubic area. When was the last time you felt this relaxed? Tired? Never, probably. Not even having the capacity to reach up to shut the water off, you were fully unconscious within seconds, facial muscles relaxing as the water rained down on you.

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 Light burned through his eyelids, the familiar feeling of consciousness tugged at his mind. He yawned, rubbing at his eyes. It was rare he didn't have to wake up to an alarm, it felt nice, just getting to lay there for a bit. The lack of warmth and dip in the mattress next to him made him grumble. "Sweetheart?" He reached over, patting around for her and coming up with nothing but the cool sheets beneath his palm.

Panic made him shoot up, eyes barely adjusting to the light as he looked around. The sound of the shower caught his attention. It meant she was home, at least, easing part of his concern. However, she never showered in the morning. Was something wrong?

Leon wiped the crust and sleep from his eyes as he made his way down the upstairs hall to the bathroom. The door wasn't closed all the way, stopped from swinging open by wet fabric bunching beneath it when he tried. "What the?" He knelt so he could move the cloth from the door before swinging it open. He was more confused at first, not seeing her silhouette. In fact, the shower curtain was mostly open, water having misted around the floor. Where the hell was she?

His took a step forward, knees buckling at the sight. He caught the edge of the tub with his hands, pajama pants soaking into the water on the floor. She was in there, unconscious. Her skin blueish in tint, unmoving was the water splashed over her form. He scrambled to shut the water off, almost turning the wrong knob in his panic.

"Come on, wake up." He said, shaking her by the shoulder. Her body wiggled, but she didn't move on her own. "Sweetheart... what did you do?" He looked her over again. Did she fall? But there was no bruising or blood. He lifted her arm, dropping it back on top of her. Nothing. He tried to feel for a pulse, but her skin was too cold to feel anything. Luckily, with the water off, it took only a moment before he heard the telltale sound of her teeth chattering together, even her tail seemed to vibrate as her body shivered involuntarily trying to gain some warmth. He'd have turned the warm water on if not for how pruny and textured her skin already was. She was practically water logged, but alive.

He yanked the towel off the bathroom rack, tossing it over her, helping to get a grip on her torso before pulling her out of the tub, cradling her against himself. He cartoon slid out of the bathroom, water making his feet hydroplane on the finished wood as he rushed you back to the bedroom. He didn't care about the mess, he just needed you to be ok, stuffing your cold body under the comforter, wrapping himself under with you, cocooning you in his body heat.

"Leon?" She blinked, knocking a few beads of water off her plush eyelashes. She was shivering violently. "I'm so cold."

"What the hell happened!?" His words held no malice, he was terrified more than he had the capacity to be angry, rubbing his palm against her back desperate to get some friction going between them.

"Was so hot... just wanted to cool off. Fell asleep...."

"You fell asleep in the shower?"

"Yeah."

"How'd you manage that?"

"So hot, then so sleepy."

He hadn't a clue what the hell she was talking about, but he was glad she was alive. He made a mental note to add a rule now that she wasn't allowed to use the shower without him from now on. In fact, he was already brainstorming a whole new set of rules and restrictions.

Every day, it seemed like she was tempting to pull herself away from him in one way or another. If it wasn't the way he could see her face tense when he was being overly affectionate. The way she complained and pushed boundaries. But this? God, he couldn't trust her to do anything anymore, could he?

His precious puppydoll, what was the matter with her? He peppered her forehead with kisses, ignoring his own shivering as the cold passed between them. She curled herself into him, his only focus was getting her comfortable and warmed up. He just couldn't understand her.

He wasn't sure how long the two of them had been laying there when she finally stopped shivering, falling back into sleep. Her breathing even, the sun through the window warm against the now soiled blankets. Leon couldn't find it within himself to do the same. He was wide awake, thinking about what to do. Watching her puppy ears twitch every now again, idly running his fingers through her now drying hair.

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You couldn't remember sleeping like that before, so exhausted, the world was gone. Dreamless. Vaguely, there was the memory of feeling so cold that your bones ached. Even when your eyes cracked open, part of your face felt numb - still you were nude, half wrapped in a towel and curled under the blanket.

'When did I come back to bed?' You thought to yourself, pawing at your eyes to get the crust and goopy feeling to go away. Despite the memory of freezing, the only thing you felt again was hot. Pure heat all over again.

"Good morning." Leon's voice caught your attention, his hands gently stroking your ears.

"Morning." You said, still groggy, a squeaky yawn leaving you as your eyes adjusted to the world. As if the warmth wasn't bad enough, everything felt off, the man laying in front of you just seemed so much more than he normally was. Leon's face was smooth, skin vibrant with life. You were hyper aware of the warmth on his cheeks, the cool undertones that cast the shadows of his features. His blue eyes were so opaque they could've been painted on stained-glass.

"Are you ok?" He asked, his large hand cupping your cheek. "Your pupils are dilated."

You had no clue what that meant, but you had this overwhelming instinct to press yourself to him, and you did. Nose nestled firmly into the crook of his neck, taking in a deep inhale. Had he always smelled this good? You whined, fisting his shirt to anchor yourself to him, tail drumming behind you in a desperate attempt to ground yourself from the stimuli. His scent was so intense, it was hypnotizing, and you craved more of him. Your tongue reached out to lap at the junction between his neck and collar bone, tasting his skin. That new but familiar aching between your legs was back with a vengeance. You wormed your hand down between your legs attempting to stave off the feeling, when Leon's hands met your shoulders to push you away from him slightly.

"What are you doing?" His face was tinged with a bright blush you hadn't seen before on him. Was he embarrassed by something? You weren't sure why, he looked so perfect right now. "H-hey now." He said, pressing you away from him, a firm grip on both your shoulders.

"Leoonnnn..." You whined his name, squirming to get back to him. When he wasn't budging, face still etched in confusion, a low growl began to bubble from the back of your throat, fangs bearing at him from frustration.

"What the hell's gotten into you? Are you seriously growling at me?" He kept his hold on you firm, giving a light squeeze to your shoulders. His face morphed into something you couldn't fully read, a cross between what you presumed to be anger and something else. Unable to articulate your need for him, the heat you were feeling - the growling didn't ease up. You struggled in his grasp, snapping and snarling, pawing at his arms as best you could with the awkward angle.

"Bad girl!" He snapped, voice loud and sharp. He rolled you over, pinning you down against the mattress, using his body weight to keep you there, his face level above yours. The surprise movement coupled with chiding made you halt for a moment. With his face so close to yours, there was no reason for you to remain so upset, instead you happily peppered his face with kissing, running your nose against his jaw again to take in his scent. A contented mewl dug it's way out of you.

"Leon, please." Tail wagging between your legs, you tried so hard to get him to understand. "Too hot. Everything's s'hot. Make it better?" You ground your hips upwards against him a few times. Something hard poked against your thigh as you did it, but Leon didn't move immediately.

When he finally did move, he was peeling himself away from you. "What the fuck?" He asked aloud to no one in particular.

"Leon!" You demanded, reaching your hands out to grab at him. He dodged them easily, slipping off the mattress, staring down at you. "It hurts, it's too hot. Leon, please." The room felt like it was teetering, you were so wound up, you wanted to cry, scream, throw yourself onto the floor. Anything to help cope with the overstimulation of everything going on. Even the silence was too much, aiding in your ability to hear both your heartbeats pounding in your head. The heat, smell, the visuals.

Flopping forwards onto the bed, you buried your face in the blanket, inhaling his scent again. The corner of his pillow had caught against the spot between your legs from the movement. It was dull, but you felt it. That same pleasurable feeling from the night before. With a soft groan, you bore down again, grinding your hips onto the bed to try and get more of that pressure, anything to quell that ache.

Leon still hadn't said anything, but you were too driven by instinct to even care. The blanket blocking your vision, his scent mixed with laundry detergent sating your olfactory, all you could focus on was rocking your hips against the pillow letting that pressure build up again.

"I get it now..." He finally piped up, kneeling down and patting your shoulder.

Panting, you lifted your head to look at him. "H-help me?"

"I can't, at least not how you need." He brushed some of the hair that had clung to your face from sweat away. Again his expression was unreadable, and you hated it. You didn't understand, all you wanted was to feel normal again. For the heat and ache to go away.

Tears clung to your lash line, unable to cope any more as your hips picked up speeding, rutting desperately against the pillow. Leon drew his hand back as he stood again. He did a strange shuffle messing with his pants, before quickly exiting the room. You reached out for him, wanting to call him back to you, beg him not to go, but the door slammed closed behind him. Unable to do anything else, you squeezed your eyes shut, flopping there until a few more movements of your hips had that same pleasurable feeling washing over you again.

Sighing in relief, you just laid there, bringing the blanket back to your nose to inhale it.

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The moment the door slammed behind him, Leon bound down the stairs, skipping half the steps. He needed to distance himself, clear his head. Her erratic behavior had thrown him a loop that he could hardly process. The way she was begging for him, clinging to him, fucking herself against his pillow - all within a few minutes of waking up. It was enough to make his pajama pants tent painfully.

What he wouldn't give to let you pepper his face in more of those kisses while he railed you into the mattress. She shivered at the thought, pushing it to the outskirts of his consciousness to try and calm down. His palms felt sweaty, and his heart was hammering a mile a minute.

He couldn't do that to you. It wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be fair. You were in heat...at least he thought so. Not in your right mind. But even if you were in your right mind, he still hadn't concluded what exactly your relationship was. Were you even aware enough to consent to anything more than kisses?

He didn't know. And he wished he didn't care enough to know, wanting to give in to his baser instincts.

For now, he was stuck sitting on the floor in front of the couch, catching his breath. He leaned back, letting his head fall onto the cushion. "Fuck." He palmed himself through the cottony fabric of his pajama pants to ease his own tension. He couldn't get the image of her out of his head, every time he blinked he saw her dilated pupils, that lovesick longing. Leon's had girlfriends before, not many, but he's had them, and he's sure not one of them ever looked at him like that. There was never a connection he'd felt with someone so intense before, like she would die without him. Maybe she would.

She would.

She would.

He was sure of that fact, especially after last night.

He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. 'She does need me, I know that.' He confirmed to himself. 'God.' He let out a few deep breaths, removing his hand from his crotch, allowing his erection to deflate. It was just one more thing to add to the list of everything else he was dealing with.

Her behavior. Her desire to keep pushing his boundaries. Her erratic behavior the night before. Now this.

He listened to see if he could hear her. Luckily, there was nothing but silence from the upstairs bedroom. She'd likely fallen back asleep, giving him even more time to process things. In all his 21 years of life, he was sure he had never faced a challenge like this one before, but he was never one to give up or back down. His puppydoll needed him, and he was going to figure things out, even if it was the death of him. He owed her that, he owed himself that.

"I could call Chris, maybe..." He mumbled to himself, looking to the landline. Something about the idea of Chris knowing she was in heat, even imagining what she was looking like right now didn't set right with him. Leon wasn't a jealous person by nature, but somehow a phantom jealousy shut that idea down. No, she needed him not anyone else right now.

"Think, think." He chided himself, cupping his temples with his hands. Did he go back upstairs to her? Comfort her in the short term? Did he leave her there? Longterm?

He slicked his hair out of his face, emptying his head of all thoughts for a moment. "If she's in heat then she must have other instincts right? She's fertile, and she'll want to nest and...mating makes animals closer right?" He mused out loud, then it occurred to him. This situation was the solution, not another problem.

"No, that's messed up... I shouldn't even be thinking about..." But he was, the image of her swollen and gravid with a baby, his baby flashed before his eyes. She'd be so needy, tired. So focused on what her body was meant to do, she wouldn't need to try and get into any more trouble.

It was tempting. So very tempting.

It would solve her problem of being bored too, with a baby to focus on, take care of. She wouldn't have to be lonely while he was away.

The more he thought of it, the more appealing it was becoming. His cock was filling out again, twitching each time he pictured it. He had a solid job, a house, two things most people his age didn't. He could do it. Really.

By the time the wet spot formed on his pajamas, any moral argument against the plan had disappeared by the need to get his rocks off, to fuck a baby into her. He was convinced that this was the perfect solution in totality.

His legs were a little shaky as he stumbled to his feet, every step of the stairs felt like running through sand. Electricity skipped through his nerves, leaving him tweaking like a livewire. The door creaked open slowly, and he poked his head back in.

She hadn't moved from her spot, face down on top of the covers. One of her ears twitched, before pointing up in his direction. "H-hey."

Her head lifted just enough to look at him, her eyes glossy and dilated still. The sheen of sweat that made her skin glisten was enough of an indicator that she was still hot all over. "Are you mad at me?"

That shattered him, truly. "No, no sweetheart, I'm not mad. I was just...surprised." He coaxed her to sit up, taking his own spot next to her. "I'm sorry for responding that way. Are you still feeling uncomfortable?"

She nodded, "Yeah. Not like because, but everything is still so hot."

"Is that...is that why you took a cold shower last night?"

"Just wanted it to stop."

He nodded, "I understand. You had me so worried though, you can get really sick if you stay cold too long."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He said, pecking her on the cheek. "I'm sorry you're feeling so unwell. I think I can help you now though. Would you like that?"

"But I thought you said - "

"Nevermind what I said before. I was being stupid." The look she was giving him now nearly sent him into cardiac arrest, that sweet pleading face begging for him to devour her. "I promise, I'll make it all better, ok?"

"Really?"

He smiled, reaching down to lock his pinky around hers. "I promise. I'll make it all better, just trust me."

She nodded, and he took the opportunity to lean forward and capture her lips with his own, unlike the ferris wheel or any other time, he tried his best to convey his own need. He groaned into her mouth, tongue sweeping against her bottom lip before slipping it into her mouth the moment her lips parted. He slid it along hers, nearly whining himself as he pressed her back down onto the bed, grinding his tented and leaking cock down against her a few times, his pants soaking with her own juices.

"You're so pretty. So perfect. My pretty perfect puppydoll. " He cooed, pulling away just enough to kiss her jaw, then her neck. "I've never met anyone like you before. I've never wanted anyone as much as you before." He admitted, swirling his tongue over one of her nipples.

"Leon!" She gasped, squirming beneath him. He pressed himself down onto her more to keep her still before popping off to latch on to her other breast. He ran his thumb over the perked up one, smearing his own saliva across it as he worked the current one with his mouth. He could feel her thighs twitching from the stimulation, he could only imagine how her poor pussy was feeling. Her skin was feverish, sticky. He loved it, it felt so primal.

"Don't worry sweetheart." He leaned back to give her a moment to catch her breath, seizing the chance to spread her legs. He groaned at the sight of her slick folds, her hole twitching and closing over nothing. Prettiest pussy he'd ever seen, he ever would see, he was sure of it. Leon made a mental note to devour her next time, make her squirm and scream on his tongue until she was pulling his hair out - see how many noises he could get her to make. The thought alone almost made him cum, and he had to take a deep breath to refocus.

There was a task at hand, and his own need was starting to become painful. He tugged his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock and balls, letting his shaft slap against his abdomen. He hissed at the feeling of the air, relief washing over him from the lack of restriction.

With one hand he squeezed the base of his shaft, holding the pressure there before stroking himself slowly, as slow as he could without torturing himself. With his free hand he slipped two fingers into her folds, running them up and down, coating them in her slick.

"This might feel a little weird, just trust me, ok?" He warned.

"I trust you." She whispered, barely louder than a mouse.

"Good girl." He heard her tail hit the bed, wagging from the praise. 'Fuck, she's too cute.' He pressed his fingers into her slowly, she was so tight, so wet. He could only imagine the way she'd feel finally wrapped around him. He pressed his thumb against her clit circling it gently, leaving the inserted fingers still. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah. Feels good."

"Good." He nodded, beginning to move his fingers in and out of her slowly. "If it hurts, tell me, alright?" He picked up speed, switching from thrusting to spreading his fingers within her, feeling the resistance of her walls contracting from the movements. Her slick covered the palm of his hand, and he refocused his thumb back to her clit.

She made a noise, he wasn't entirely sure if it was agreement or not, but the look on her face was enough to tell him she was enjoying herself. He continued to finger her, entranced by the small squeaks she made, the way her facial muscles twitched with each new sensation. The sun hit her face at just the right angle, illuminating her features like an angel.

She was an angel.

God he loved her so much, it hurt.

He pulled his hand out, chuckling at the needy whine she let out. "Don't worry, just give me a sec." He wiped the slick from his hand all over his tip and shaft, making sure it was good and wet before leaning over her again. Pressing the mushroomy head against her entrance, he kissed her one more time. "I love you." He mumbled against her lips.

"Love you t-"

She was cut off when he sunk himself inside of her. He was careful, slow, whimpering at how constricting she was. It was euphoric nearly, how her walls squeezed against every inch of him, sucking him into her. Her eyes were wide, mouth parted the moment he gave a shallow thrust.

"So good. So good for me baby." He cooed, resting both elbows beside her head, lazily grinding into her. "Never had someone so perfect before."

"L-leon... so full...what's happening....?"

"I'm making you allllllll better." He said, sloppily kissing her jaw a few times. "Just like I promised." He enjoyed the closeness, the intimacy of laying atop her like this, slow, soft. "Gotta take care of my puppydoll."

She squeezed her eyes shut, relaxing against the pillow, soft whines escaping her with every movement he made. Now that she was more placid, and he was able to sink himself fully into her. The feeling was indescribable. He was on cloud nine balls deep inside of her.

"Such a good girl. Good, good girl." He chanted, pulling back just enough to pull her legs up to her chest, so he had a better angle to bear down into her. She wrapped her arms around him, latching her nails into his back, red crescent shaped marks left over every time she dragged them against his skin. Her nose buried in his neck as she clung to him, whimpering and whining.

The sound of his name falling from her lips, mumbled into his skin like a prayer, coupled with the squeezing of her walls around him, was enough to make him lose it. He felt his balls tighten the moment she came, nearly crying as he gripped her hips bruisingly, slamming the head of his cock as deep as he could. He held himself like that as he shot his load. "F-fuck." He groaned, squeezing his own eyes shut before shallowly thrusting again, riding out the hot waves of pleasure that overcame him.

He caught his breath, kissing her forehead a few times. He wasn't ready to pull out, even when he felt himself going soft. Instead, he propped himself above her a little longer before daring to crack his eyes open. She looked half asleep, peaceful beneath him. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired....good."

"I'm glad, baby. Still hot?"

"Not like before... Am I fixed now?"

"I think so, we might have to do this a few more times. But you'll feel better and better each time." He assured.

She nodded, yawning. He could see her eyelids growing heavy again, fighting off the impending sleep. "Poor thing, you should get some sleep."

"Slept a lot, don't wanna."

"You need it." He slowly pulled out of her, rolling off to the side so he could hold her close. He flattened his palm against her belly, imagining the future again, what it would feel like a few months from now. "Take a nap, I'll lay with you. I'll even take you on a walk later. "

"Really?"

"Really." He pulled the blanket back over the two of them. "I promise." She nestled herself into his side, hooking her pinky around his. She didn't say anything further, closing her eyes and sinking into unconsciousness next to him.

[ssahotchnerr]

fluffy aaron request !! reader is on a date that is going so bad when she gets called in for a case so she shows up in her like fancy date outfit and confides in hotch about her horrible date then he offers to make it up to her and takes her out when they get back <3 maybe there’s some room for slight jealous!aaron in there somewhere tehe

it's a date

there's always room for jealous!aaron 🤭 cw; fem bau!reader, mutual pining, a touch of nervous and jealous!aaron, brief standard cm case info, fluff <3

You were the last one to arrive at the BAU, departing from the far side of town and evening traffic to blame.

Consequently, you pulled stares the second you arrived within the roundtable room. Your presence was anticipated, for one, the sound of your heels clacking against the hard floor, and:

A low whistle exited Morgan.

"Look at you." He tossed out, a tickled grin spread wide across his face.

Your current attire was a dress; a fancier, slightly more risqué choice compared to your typical office wardrobe. It was a light beige, your hair was down your back in loose curls, makeup more enhanced than your usual routine. Aaron had to (internally) admit, you looked stunning.

"Hot date?"

"You could say that."

Aaron felt his jaw move. Clench, actually.

"Sorry for cutting your night short." He apologized, forcing his sentence out deep from inside his chest. He turned towards the screen, concealing himself.

"On the contrary," You eased yourself into your chair, eagerly accepting a file from Emily. "Thank you for cutting my night short."

"With this one, you may want to rethink that sunshine." Penelope clicked her remote, illuminating the screen with the latest case photos. "Ain't no rest for the wicked."

The team collectively ran through it quickly; a brutal family annihilator, decreasing cooling off period, the gravity of the situation heightening and a panicked town. Wheels up in 30 to Oklahoma.

As the others trailed out, Penelope hurrying to her bat cave, Aaron slowed his pace. He prolonged securing his files into his briefcase, zipping it shut, leaving only the two of you in the room.

Coincidentally, you weren't in too much of a rush either.

"That bad?"

You huffed in response as your eyes found his. He was met with a hardened, utter annoyance, instead of your familiar warm liveliness.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"There's not much to talk about." The bottom of your files hit the surface of the table, loudly, stacking the few evenly together. "The guy sucked. Interrupted me every second he could. I don't think the restaurant he picked was up to code either. Thank goodness I got the call before our food arrived." You shuddered lightly, in theatrics but also genuineness. "I'm greatly looking forward to pretending it never happened."

There was a carefree airiness within your voice - attempting to wave it off, the simple acceptance of one night gone bad - but small dismay was amongst your words.

"I'm sorry." While Aaron meant his apology wholeheartedly, he couldn't help but feel relieved, for his own selfish reasons. "But I am glad you narrowly escaped the potential food poisoning."

That pulled a laugh from you, agreeing. "But it's fine, really. I didn't want to go anyways, don't know why I did." You shrugged as you disrupted the continual, shared eye contact. While the tail end of your sentence was spoken lowly, it wasn't long lasting, picking up some enthusiasm. "How was your night going?"

"Jack and I were just settling down to watch a movie."

"Which one?"

"Shrek."

Your head tilted exasperatedly, face pulling into jealousy. "Really? How fun." You whined gently, wishing your night could have been spent with the two of them. Your preferred choice of company.

"Well, he wasn't too happy it was cut short." Aaron admitted, a loose, downhearted chuckle escaping.

"You'll make it up to him. Perhaps a multiple movie feature when we're back? Shrek, Shrek 2, Shrek the Third... maybe order some pizza too." You suggested, reaching out to touch his arm reassuringly with a gentle smile. "No matter, he'll be thrilled."

Sourcing from your touch, lightning bolts dashed within his arm, feverishly. Aaron soon found himself simply studying your face, falling on the silent side. You were just, you. Extraordinarily kind, beautiful you.

"C'mon, Dave told me if I was late to the tarmac once more, he'd tell the pilot to leave and I'd have to take a commercial." You joked. Although, a small part of you feared he'd stick to his promise.

"Yeah, like I'd let that happen." He rolled his eyes, amusedly shaking his head.

The bullpen was quiet; most had gone home, the overheard lights had dimmed, the team long out of earshot. As the two of you neared the glass doors - Aaron leading - there was an urgency heightening in his chest, mere seconds away from bursting. As if each step forward, he was losing precious time. Any hesitations on the temptations he had felt for months dissolved. Now or never.

"What about you?" He asked, sweetly but timidly, finding a sudden interest in the floor.

"What about me?"

"Who's going to make it up to you?"

"Well," That caught you in a bit of surprise, your feet halting. Aaron turned, his eyes lifting. "That's a million dollar question right there. I don't see anyone lining up to take me on some extravagant outing, do you?" You forced out a laugh, your cheeks fairly blushing.

"Maybe," Aaron replied, his voice wavering with a touch of nervousness. It was rather endearing, seeing him so adorably flustered. "Perhaps the person you're looking for is right in front of you. Figuratively, at that."

A rather charmed expression formed on your face. Eyes brightening, lips pursing upwards, "Are you asking me out?"

"I'm trying." He confessed, his boyish expression just as light as yours. "So, tell me. How am I doing?"

"How about this," You spoke slowly, attempting to suppress the butterflies in your own stomach, hoping to maintain some composure within your answer. "Your next available night after your movie marathon with Jack, I'm completely and all yours."

All yours. He could get used to that.

"It's a date."

[oneoftheextras]

lockjaw | j.t six

masterlist | help me fund my top-surgery?

paring: hybrid puppy!jayce talis x f!reader

summary: after a recent breakup you find yourself adopting a hybrid to keep you company, but he's more feral than you can handle

series warnings: 18+, hybrid jayce (ears and tail), slight a/b/o traits (could argue alpha jayce), eventual smut, protective jayce, size difference

words: 8k

chapter warnings: tension, almost fight, fluff

proof-read by my girl: @madschiavelique

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven |

want a handwritten letter from a character? / join the discord for updates

“Hello! What can I get for you both today?” the barista beamed at you both, her smile radiating the warmth of genuine welcome.

She handed you both a laminated menu which you took, but Jayce hesitated slightly before he accepted the double-sided paper, not quite enjoying the feeling of the plastic against his skin.

“Oh, hello!” you greeted her back and let out a long “Uhhh,” of thought. You’d been so concerned about whether this café was suitable that you hadn’t even thought about what you wanted to eat.

You glanced up from the menu and saw that Jayce was having as much trouble as you. “If you would like a moment to decide that’s okay!” the barista continued her kind smile, “Just find a table and come up to the counter when you’re ready.”

Jayce moved the menu towards you and pointed to the drink he wanted and you nodded, “I think we’ll need a minute for food but drinks are good to go,” you spoke to the barista but your eyes flitted to Jayce, awaiting his nod of confirmation, which he provided.

You gave her your drink orders and paid, then walked through the small cafe looking for somewhere cosy for the two of you to sit. 

Considering it wasn’t that big of a building, there were quite a few tables for its potential customers - small circular tables with only two chairs for intimate exchanges, ranging to large booths for a gathering of people, the options were overwhelming.

“Where do you want to sit?” you whispered to Jayce as if it were a secret between the two of you, the pressure of wanting to make this outing perfect making you recede within yourself. As if all your confidence had been used in the previous confrontation.

Jayce shrugged and glanced down at you with a tilted head, his expression changing slightly when he saw your shy demeanour. He surveyed the room for a second and then started walking towards a four person table by a wall of bookshelves, peeking over his shoulder to make sure you were following him; you were.

He pulled out two of the chairs on one side, giving you the option of which of the two you wanted to sit on, before walking to the other side and sitting in the one he’d chosen for himself.

Whilst the chairs themselves were aged and made of hardwood, the owners had arranged an assortment of cushions and pillows on top of them to make the surfaces more comfortable for longer stays. You picked up the pillow from the chair you didn’t sit on and put it behind your back, sighing with the relief that it brought.

Jayce didn’t seem that bothered by the hardness of his seat as he pulled the plush cushion out from under his body and presented it to you. You laughed gently and shook your head, “Two is enough for me, but thank you,”, at your words, he placed it on top of the seat next to him and gently pushed it down as if he were telling it to stay put.

There was a beat of silence between you, the only noise being the busy ambiance of the people around you. The subtle ‘Psst’ of the coffee machine nozzle blowing out fresh steam. The clattering and clinking of cups and cutlery. It was just enough to keep the awkwardness away from your table.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” you apologised, finally breaking the silence between you. Jayce gazed up at you, his forehead wrinkled at the raise of his eyebrows and his ears bounced at the sound of your voice; his head still tilted downwards as he inspected the menu but his attention was now on you.

His eyes searched yours, possibly looking for where your sentence was going. “In the other cafe-” you clarified, even though you didn’t need to, Jayce knew what you were talking about, “-I didn’t think it through properly, and I should’ve checked beforehand to make sure it was okay for you,” your eyes lost contact with his, the guilt you were feeling forcing you to look anywhere but him.

“I just didn’t expect it from them,” you pulled the sleeve of your top up over your knuckles and played with the fabric, “I’ve been going there since I’ve lived here and they’ve never been like that with anyone,” you knew you were rambling but you couldn’t stop the words from coming out.

You cleared your throat, you were unintentionally making excuses for them, and they didn’t deserve that. Jayce didn’t deserve that.

“They were assholes to you, I’m sorry,” you said firmly and regained your confidence enough to look back at him. It was as though his eyes had never shifted from when you’d started talking; he studied your expressions as you spoke as if he was going to have a test on it later that day.

You felt visually dissected by him, and you could tell he was searching for something specific beneath the word vomit that was being expelled from your mouth, but you didn’t know what.

He blinked slowly at you and you felt a wave of reassurance flitter over you, but before you could verbally dig yourself deeper into this apology hole the barista appeared at the end of your table.

“Got those drinks for you!” She put the two mugs down on the table with such delicacy that the ceramic clicking against the wood was almost inaudible. Just as quickly as she’d arrived, she left again with a happy “Enjoy!”.

Then it was back to the silence. Even though you’d already apologised, and everything in your gut told you not to linger on the subject and to move on, your heart couldn’t let it go.

The urge to bring it up again teetered on the edge of your tongue and you weren’t sure if you could balance it well enough for it not to topple over and fall out of your mouth. 

His attention had returned to the laminated menu, reading every item with a curious intensity. There was a perfect excuse to change the subject onto what he wanted to eat, if he liked the music that was playing, or even if he was warm enough where you were sitting, but the roots of guilt were too deep into you that you felt like you needed to rip them out before the infestation was incurable.

“Why did you leave?” You asked before you could stop yourself and his body stopped moving at the mention of the situation, as though the thought of it turned him into a statue like a memory-medusa.

His vision went from the menu, to you, to the table, then back to you again.

He put the menu back down on the surface and laced his fingers together in front of him, seemingly in thought. 

You should’ve left it alone, moved on with the afternoon and allowed him peace, but you were being selfish. The need to remove this guilt off of your shoulders had overpowered the conscious thought to let him move on, and that only pushed the stone of anxiety deeper into your stomach.

“It doesn’t matter, sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” you quickly tried to erase the question ever coming out of your mouth, but no matter how hard you inhaled, the words wouldn’t go back into your body.

You read the menu in front of you with such forced focus that you weren’t actually reading the words on the page, the same thoughts swirling around in your mind and overpowering any cognitive ability you had left to take in the letters and form any coherent sentences.

Out of your peripheral vision, you could see his fingers unwrap themselves from each other and his arms lift from the table. You locked your eye line onto the menu, actively ignoring what he was doing, feeling as if you had done enough damage for one day.

After a few moments he tapped the table and slid a napkin over to you, the white square landing diagonally over the text you were pretending to read. In black ink, the word ‘Safer’ was scribbled - parts of the tissue had ripped from the force of the pen tip, but it was legible.

You took the napkin in your hands, holding it delicately as if it would rip apart if you moved too quickly. “Safer?” you read it aloud and returned your gaze to him. His eyes flicked to the napkin and then to your face, nodding once.

“As in, it’s safer here?” you queried, the tight knot in your chest and your incessant need to overthink apparently making you forget the question you’d asked him.

He closed his eyes and exhaled with, what you regarded to be, annoyance. His shoulders relaxed as he opened them again and jutted his chin towards the exit. “Outside? Do you want to leave?” your heart sunk at the prospect that you’d only made the situation worse, making two mistakes in one day.

He shook his head side to side, his brown locks mimicking the motion in front of his forehead. No. He tapped the napkin twice with the ballpoint of the pen, harder than he had before and widened his eyes with his mouth slightly agape like he was mentally repeating what he was trying to say but the wavelength wasn’t reaching you. Your brain was too full of everything you’d done wrong today.

“I-” you started, looking down at the word and back to him as if viewing it another time would somehow rearrange the letters into a way that would form the sentence he was trying so hard to get to you. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” your eyebrows raised with sympathy from their previous state of confusion.

He reached forward quickly and spun the napkin back towards him, clicking the pen with his thumb and starting to scrawl more words onto the fragile surface. One letter in and you watched the delicate fabric tear from the force he was pressing down, making it completely unusable. 

The hand that was holding the tissue in place swiftly scrunched it up in his palm, the same hand coming to massage his nose with frustration. His shoulders rose with a deep inhale, he held it for a second, then pushed it out of his nose as a way to calm down.

A minute of you watching him rub the indent between his eyes with his index finger and thumb felt like hours. Multiple times you had opened your mouth to say something but closed it again, not being able to find any words that would comfort anyone but yourself.

The usual comfortable silence between you was tainted with tension you didn’t know how to relieve. The pangs of nostalgia picked at your heart with involuntary memories of weaponised silent treatment.

But Jayce wasn’t him. It wasn’t like that with him, his silence was not a battle against you but one within himself and you needed to be patient with him.

“It’s okay,” you finally said, and he opened his eyes to meet yours again, his fingers still connected to the bridge of his nose. A cautious smile strained onto your lips, “I’m sorry I pushed, and I’m too much of an idiot to understand,” the second part of your sentence was supposed to have humour to it, but the moment it left your lips his frown deepened. He shook his head at your self-deprecating remark, clearly not liking the way you were speaking about yourself, but he softened his gaze and lowered his hand.

“We can talk about something else if you want?” you spoke with a new gentleness, trying to navigate the situation properly. You didn’t wait for him to answer before you threw another question at him, “Have you decided on what you want to eat?”.

Jayce stares at you and blinks as if he’s trying to keep up with the barrage of questions coming his way. He lowers his head to the menu again and exhales out of his nose twice in a mixture of a sigh and a chuckle, a ghost of a smile twitching on his lips.

He appreciated how hard you were trying to make him comfortable, it made the thrums of his own frustrations fizzle out into a calmness he wasn’t yet used to.

He laced two of his fingers through the handle of his mug and sipped his drink, reeling back for a moment as the hot liquid burned his top lip unexpectedly. His tongue ran over the sensitive flesh to soothe it as he looked down at the foam like it had done it intentionally.

As if watching him sip his coffee made you remember that you too had a drink, you mimicked his movements, lifting your cup to your mouth and blowing on the top layer of foam, not wanting to make the same mistake he did.

His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, he turned the menu with his other hand and pointed at what he wanted. 

A loud grumble sounded from across the table, Jayce’s stomach seemingly agreeing with his choice. “You must be so hungry, I’m sorry!”, you said as you collected the menus off of the table and stood, the legs of the chair audibly creaking against the floor from the speed your thighs had pushed it backwards.

“I’ll go order the food and I’ll be right back,” you tapped the table twice with your knuckles and headed for the counter.

You stared at the words on the page, repeating what Jayce wanted over and over in your mind as you stood behind an older man. He was taking his time querying all the different syrup flavours that they had to offer.

You didn’t mind waiting. It gave you a moment of reprieve to catch your breath and slow your thoughts. Jayce was patient, but you couldn’t help but feel like you’d pushed that patience to its limit already, and this was your first real day together.

It wouldn’t surprise you if you woke up tomorrow morning and he was nowhere to be found with how badly today had gone. Your chest cramped at the thought.

“Hi, are you ready to order?” The barista’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Hi, um, yes!” You stepped forward and put your hands, and the menu’s against the counter, relaying what Jayce wanted and then your own choice.

You were pretty sure you’d remembered his order correctly, you prayed you had.

“Great, we’ll bring it over to you when it’s ready,” she finished scribbling on her notepad and punctuated it with a full stop, “You’re number six,” she handed you a wooden spoon with the number six drawn onto the convex side with black sharpie.

You took the spoon and started to turn when you spotted a pile of whiteboards and pens behind the partition that separated customers and staff.

“Excuse me?” You called out to her as she reached through the gantry, a hand - who’s owner you couldn’t see - took the paper slip containing your food order from her fingers.

She twisted her head around to you, giving you her attention once more, her face expectant and awaiting your question.

“Are those whiteboards for customers?” You asked, the inquiry feeling a bit silly now that you’d heard your own voice make it audible. “It’s just-“ you continued, over-explaining yourself again “-Your companion is mute?” She finished your question for you with an expression of understanding and sympathy. 

“Uh, yeah,” you confirmed, a little taken aback that she knew what you were going to say before you could vocalise it, “That’s why we have them!” She grabbed one of the whiteboards and individually picked up a black, blue and red marker.

As she handed them to you, she must have noticed your surprised expression, or it was extremely obvious that you were out of your depth as she started to explain in more detail.

“It’s common for our hybrid friends to choose not to speak, most of them have been through a lot, it takes time for them to re-find their voice,” there was a sad but hopeful lint to her words, as if she’d experienced it personally. 

The implication that Jayce may speak one day made your heart thump an extra time. You’d heard him chuckle and clear his throat multiple times, so you knew he had the itinerary needed, but hearing someone else say it filled you with optimism.

“Although, not all of them do,” her interjection dampened your internal celebration. She must have seen the excitement on your face and not wanted to give you false hope, “My nana had a hybrid who never spoke a word to her for her whole life, but she was the funniest person she knew, apparently.”

Whilst you wanted to stay and chat to the young girl, you glanced over your shoulder to make sure Jayce was still content while he waited for you. 

He was sat sideways in his chair, one arm on the backrest and the other on the table as he observed his surroundings in more detail. You could spare a few minutes to maybe learn something that might help you make him more comfortable.

“She never spoke to her?” You asked, encouraging her to continue her story, “Not a word! All their communication was written,” she grabbed a cloth and started to wipe down the nozzles of the coffee machine as she spoke.

“My nana is the one who opened this place around 30 years ago, I think? And she was adamant we have enough whiteboards and pens for every table, that’s what mom said anyway,” she grinned as she retold the memory. It was nice to know this was a family owned business of people who genuinely cared for hybrids.

She dropped the cloth onto the counter, “I won’t keep you from your afternoon, but if you want more info about hybrids we have a couple of books,” she pointed to the bookshelves by the table Jayce had chosen.

“Is it that obvious I’m new to this?” You laughed and rubbed your elbow with your hand, the girl raised her hand and made a pinching motion with her fingers, “A teensie bit,” she played along with your humour.

“But it’s okay, we all start somewhere! You’ve made it harder for yourself by starting with such a large breed, but if the connection’s there, that’s all that matters!” She reassured you, the cadence of her voice carrying that of someone much over than she seemed.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you smiled at her with gratitude and left her to her job, returning back to Jayce.

Waiting for the food to arrive was much less awkward than before you’d ordered. Whatever tension you were feeling you’d seemingly left somewhere on the journey between your table and the counter.

The two of you sat in silence, taking turns to sip your drinks and take in your surroundings.

Jayce’s attention was on the ceiling where there was an intricate painting of ivy vines and leaves intermingling with, what you presumed to be, fake ivy pinned to the same surface. It gave the interior a more at-home-in-nature type of vibe.

Meanwhile, you were observing him. The way his curious eyes followed the trail of greens and ambers from the corner of the room to the expanse of the ceiling above you. The way his throat bounced with every swallow of his coffee, and his lips turned up into a satisfied and content smile.

His side profile was angular; the slope of his nose just after the slightly raised dorsum emphasised the tip nicely - it would wrinkle intermittently whenever a new scent found its way to his nostrils. His rounded lips, although scarred with harsh lines, were outlined almost-perfectly by his coarse beard.

The strands of hair from his moustache were beginning to peak over a bit too much, and you realised he would probably need to shave soon if he didn’t want to be eating it with his food.

As if he knew you were analysing the shape of his mouth, his lips parted slightly as he continued to admire the artwork above him, giving you a glimpse of the canines that you’d seen in different context this morning.

You couldn’t help but wonder what his voice sounded like. It wasn’t something you could rush, nor could you hold onto the expectation that you would hear it. But you could still wonder nonetheless.

Would it hold the same soft, patient, gentleness that you’d seen in his eyes? 

Before your thoughts could take you any further, your plates were set down in front of you and you began to eat.

You hadn’t realised just how hungry you were until the first morsel of food connected with your tongue, your tummy immediately grumbling as if you weren’t actively feeding it.

He ate faster than you, and you realised he had the same sensation. The last time either of you ate was last night, and you were most certain that he hadn’t gotten proper rest. 

“I’m sorry it took us so long to eat, I shouldn’t have dragged you around town,” you covered your mouth as you spoke to make sure no stray food flew at him despite having an empty mouth.

While he chewed the last few bites of his meal, he reached for the whiteboard marker and popped off the lid, scribbling on the board’s surface much easier than he had the napkin.

‘Stop apologising’ he’d written in hurried handwriting. You read it as you swallowed your mouthful, your instinct was to say sorry again but as you opened your mouth to do so he gave you a scolding look.

He didn’t need to write it down for you to understand he was saying ‘Don’t you dare’.

“I do that a lot, don’t I?”, he closed his eyes and nodded as he put the last piece of his food into his mouth and savoured the flavour. He didn’t seem annoyed, but you made a mental note to not say it as much.

“Okay, I’m never going to apologise to you again,” you joked, trying to fight the curl of your lips, but his raised eyebrow made you crack.

It was nice, sitting there with him. Comfortable.

When you’d finally caught up to him and cleared your plate, he picked it up and slid it on top of his, placing them both towards the end of the table so the server could retrieve them easier.

It was moments like these that you forgot what his file said about him. Feral tendencies and behavioural trouble seemed like the furthest thing from his repertoire. 

Instead, he replaced where your plates had been with the whiteboard, rubbing out where he’d chastised you with the same napkin he’d ripped earlier and drew two horizontal lines and two vertical lines over the top of them.

As you were tipping the last of your drink into your mouth to wash down your food, you hummed excitedly as you recognised what he was doing. Tic-tac-toe.

He picked up all three of the pens and presented them to you with a gaze that said ‘Choose your weapon’, for this battle, you chose blue. He put the black pen down, having selected red as his sword for this tournament.

He gestured to you to start and you realised he was letting you go first. You twirled the pen between your fingers as you looked over the whiteboard, trying to decide which space to put your circle in.

“It’s been years since I’ve played this,” you recalled as you observed the grid. From your memory, going first almost always guaranteed a win because the other player would always be on the defensive, trying to counter the first player’s moves, it seemed like he was almost doing you a favour by letting you begin.

With an air of confidence, you put your blue circle in the top middle box. Before your pen had even lifted from the board he’d put his cross in the top right box, next to yours, with two swipes of the pen.

You narrowed your eyes with a sly smile, and he returned your expression with a raised eyebrow. Oh, it was going to be that type of game.

You had learned your lesson by underestimating him previously, but you wouldn’t make that same mistake again. Readjusting your posture so your elbows were on the table and your back an unhealthy arch, you inspected the board.

The circle and cross next to each other stared back at you as your brain mentally drew all the different moves you could make, he would be the one blocking your victory after all.

He watched you think. The way you chewed your bottom lip and your eyes darted to each square then back to the scribbles already on the board, the light crease in between your eyebrows whenever you reached a conclusion where he would win, and the subsequent shake of your head to erase the invisible game you were playing with him in his head. 

He liked seeing you serious about a game, it sent a rush of adrenaline through him, finding a worthy opponent was difficult.

He could probably guess where your next circle was going to go just by how often your eyes locked onto the square, and he was already planning his own measures to stop you succeeding. He was correct in his assumption when he followed your pen to the middle left box.

You hoped your tactic would work - cutting off the middle box of the left and top so he wouldn’t be able to predict where you were going to go next, and so he couldn’t win on those lines. 

He would surely take the bottom left so you couldn’t complete a trio on the left column and leaving the middle box unprotected for your taking - then you would have the option of winning horizontally or vertically. 

The red pen drifted towards the left corner and you couldn’t help the grin that started to creep its way onto your face, soon victory would be yours.

Then, with a quick flick of his wrist, he swiped two lines in the bottom right corner. 

Your smile dropped, your plan had failed. But then your mouth parted as your eyes finally relayed the information you were seeing to your brain, the middle right box was blank and he was one move away from winning.

Promptly, you drew your circle in the space, blocking his pesky red cross from triumphing over you. Although you hadn’t given yourself time to think about your move, it was the only one you could make that wouldn’t end the game immediately.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating in his throat and causing you to glance up at him. His lips were parted and his tongue caressed the tip of his fang for a moment before resting back in his mouth, the glint in his eye was almost identical to the one he had once his food had arrived. Hungry and ready to pounce.

You swallowed the saliva that had built up in your throat, the few microseconds it took for him to raise his pen building the suspense of your fate in a way that made your heart race. 

You’d lost. Even though the game was still in motion, you could tell by his eager expression that he had you exactly where he wanted you. With threads of hope that you could still turn this around, but he was three steps ahead of you on a hill you couldn’t see over.

Eventually, he slowly drew his red cross in the centre square. Ironic, you thought you were being clever by not taking that one to begin with, but now it was your downfall.

The tip of his pen was still against the whiteboard when he raised his eyes to lock with yours, his golden irises held anticipation but not for how the game was going to conclude. No, he knew that from your first move, it was more so for your reaction. He wanted to consume your realisation of your defeat, and drink in the helplessness of knowing that whatever move you made, he had won.

You blinked rapidly, breaking the eye contact with him and taking in your situation. It took you a moment to register what had happened, but then you saw it. The only spaces blank were the top left, and the bottom and middle left - he could win with either the top or bottom left by making a diagonal red trio.

When you’d understood you’d lost you thought it was just by one space, but knowing that he had a selection of ways that he could claim his victory made you comprehend exactly who your opponent was.

One square would’ve been an honourable loss. However, the way he’d not only given you an advantage by going first, but so swiftly pulled that advantage out from under you and given it to himself was nothing short of impeccable.

“You win,” you straightened your back and spoke softly, starting to put your pen down in defeat. He tutted and you didn’t need to see his face to know that he was telling you the game wasn’t over yet. To surrender so close to the end would be to rip his reward from him.

Your fingers hadn’t left the pen yet and you’d already conceded to his wishes, drawing a lazy circle in the bottom corner and securing his success.

He folded his arms on the table in front of him and watched you pull your pen away hesitantly, as if the longer you took the longer you could live in the moment where you hadn’t lost.

The hand that was holding his pen came up to rest on his face as he tapped his cheekbone in mock deep thought, he smirked smugly as his eyes went from the whiteboard to your face, his lids slightly hooded but you could still see the gold of his irises piercing you with indiscernible contemplation.

He’d already won, so why was he dragging it out? You squirmed in your seat under the pressure of his gaze, and you saw his smile deepen. Ah, that was why.

Deciding that he’d tortured you enough, he put his cross in the top left box and drew a diagonal line through his three territories, signalling him as the winner.

You exhaled deeply and leaned back in your chair, examining the board to try and figure out where you went wrong, how he’d so quickly gotten the upper hand on you, but you were coming up blank.

He erased the whiteboard and re-drew the grid and you were all too happy to try and even the score.

The rest of the games were draws. As much as you wanted to win, the mixture of overthinking his moves and second-guessing your own meant that, no matter how hard you tried, he beat you. But the flash of his teeth and curl of his lips made it worthwhile - you didn’t mind losing if it made him happy.

You tapped your phone screen, having noticed that the cafe was starting to quieten down with empty seats, it was getting late. “I think they’re closing soon,” you said with regret, watching him wipe the previous game off of the board with the napkin, “Is there anything else you want?” you asked as you stood from your chair.

He thought for a moment and shook his head as he continued to clean up the board and put the pens on top of it in a neat line.

You picked it up and put your hand over the pens so they wouldn’t roll off as you walked and returned it back to the counter. You began to turn back around to the table and make your exit when you saw a cupcake in the bakery cabinet, vanilla sponge with a little bit of frosting and a strawberry, cut in half, nestled on top.

Immediately you asked the barista for it, you remembered in Jayce’s file that he liked strawberries and his favourite type of cake was vanilla - although, the document did state that vanilla was the only flavour they were able to get him to try in the short span of time he was there, but at least you knew he didn’t hate it.

You paid and she passed the treat to you on a little ceramic plate, you held it like it was the most precious thing in the world; this was your cargo to carry to its destination. However, as you slowly spun to return to Jayce, your shoulder collided with someone walking quickly behind you.

A sudden gasp left your lips as the cupcake wobbled but remained standing, and you gazed up at the moving target you’d accidentally hit. Another canine hybrid. His hair was a gradient of black to white from the roots to the ends, but with no uniform pattern, light grey being the dominant colour you could see - emphasised by the pointed grey ears sticking out from the wavy mess. A husky, if you had to guess. “I’m-”, “I’m so sorry!” you both spoke at the same time, but you were the one to finish your sentence first. He regarded you with icy blue irises, slightly obscured by the playful but curious hood of his lids.

“It’s fine, shit happens,” he shrugged with one shoulder, ironically the one you’d collided with, his voice was melodic with a slight raspiness to certain words. If this had been the first hybrid you ever encountered you would’ve never second-guessed if they could speak.

Internally, you scolded yourself. Automatically assuming that every hybrid was incapable of dialogue because they were different from you is not what they deserved.

Whilst you were in thought, you must’ve been staring at his shoulder because his hand came up to grab it dramatically, “I mean, ah!-” he bent his knees to dip as if he’d just been hit, “-I think it might be broken, you really did a number on me!” 

There wasn’t a single drop of sincerity in his voice or his features as he scrunched up his face and grit his teeth in faux pain, the bridge and nose piercing bobbing with the sudden contraction of the muscle.

He opened one of his eyes to see your reaction, his face still a performance of agony, and his bottom lip pouted as if it took a lot of concentration not to break his character.

Then you laughed, hesitantly at first, but when he joined you it flowed easily. 

You thought an awkward silence was going to follow, but his voice filled your ears again. “I haven’t seen you here before, first time?” he lowered his hand and his genuine tone returned.

You nodded, “Yeah, only found out about this place today. It’s nice!” you glanced around the cafe as if you were seeing it for the first time again, mainly to avoid his eye contact. Whilst he had a comforting aura about him, the light blue of his eyes felt like they were boring into your very soul.

“Well, I don’t get to come here often, but I’ll certainly remember a face like yours,” he wasn’t subtle in his compliment, but if there was any doubt of the intention of his words, the mischievous one-sided grin would’ve been all the evidence you needed.

You exhaled out of your nose as a bashful laugh escaped you. Despite his forward nature, this man was charming, you could tell he wasn’t serious in his advances but his playfulness was a breath of fresh air.

The man’s eyes trailed behind you and up, his smile remaining but his eyes lost their joyful lint. You turned your head to glance behind you but felt a tug on the back of your sweater, pulling you backwards and making you take a few steps back. 

Jayce moved one step forward, placing half of his body in front of yours and between you and your new acquaintance. 

The atmosphere shifted in a bubble around the three of you, the rest of the cafe unaffected by the unspoken argument between blue and golden gazes. 

You didn’t need to see Jayce’s face to know his features were hard and apprehensive as he stared down at him, you could tell by the way he adjusted his shoulders. The smaller man tilted his head to the side, chin raising and back straightening to try and make himself look bigger.

It was like watching two peacocks bristling their feathers at each other. You reached your hand out to touch Jayce’s bicep but refrained from making contact, afraid that it might make the situation worse, “Jayce, it’s okay. He’s friendly,” you spoke softly but strongly. Maybe sounding confident would put him at ease that you weren’t in danger.

Jayce’s ear twitched towards you, hearing your words but his body language didn’t change. “No harm meant, big guy,” the husky reinforced your statement with his own, but folded his arms over his chest defensively. You swore you caught a glimpse of redness on his knuckles, but it could’ve been from the cold weather.

The tension in the air wasn’t fading and you could feel that both of them weren’t willing to back down anytime soon.

“Jayce, stop!” you called his name, this time not shouting but firmly and direct as an attempt to get his attention away from his potential opponent. “Listen to her,” the younger man jutted his chin towards you without his eyes leaving Jayce.

You flicked a stare towards your new friend, a gaze that told him that he wasn’t helping the situation, but before you could vocalise your thoughts to him a man came jogging towards the three of you.

“Abraxas!” His voice carried a command that you could never dream of speaking to Jayce with. Once he was level with you all he looked between the two hybrids, “Is he causing trouble?” The man panted, clearly out of breath from his speedy approach.

The husky - who must have been Abraxas - turned his head to the man with offense, unravelling his arms from his chest and extended his arms out either side of him with annoyance, “I didn’t do anything! We were chatting and this guy-” he raised his arm to gesture at Jayce but his sentence was cut off by the man’s hand pushing against his chest sharply to make him stand behind him.

You noticed how Abraxas’ ears drooped slightly at the action, but it had done the job of silencing him.

“He always does this,” he shook his head disapprovingly, “These bigger canines are hard to control sometimes, you turn your back for one second and they’re starting fights,” he spoke with a cadence of comradery with you, as if he was talking to someone who would mutually understand.

But it made you think. If Jayce got out of hand, would you stand a chance at calming him down?

Your gaze drifted back to the side of Jayce’s face as you cautiously stepped in front of him again so you could converse with the man. The fabric of your sweater was still pinched between his fingers and you felt the resistance of his gentle tug once he’d deemed you were close enough.

“It was all a big misunderstanding,” you explained, trying to portray with your voice how silly this whole altercation was. “At least your one is quiet, I can’t get him to shut up most days,” he chuckled, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at Abraxas, who seemed just as offended as before at the comment.

“I’m Henry, by the way,” the man extended his hand for you to shake and you resisted the urge to check with Jayce before you shook it and gave him your name. “Us canine owners have gotta stick together,” there was a noticeable crease beside his eyes when he spoke, showing his age. “Well, this is actually our first day together,” you corrected him and gestured to Jayce, who was still tense. “Ah!” Henry glanced between the two of you as if he had secret information of events you were yet to experience, “They can be a handful, but looks like you’ve got a good one,” his eyes trailed over Jayce as if he was examining him.

“This is Jayce,” you introduced him, missing the side eye that Jayce gave you as you freely offered up his name to this stranger, “Nice to meet you Jayce, sorry about the trouble,” Henry extended his hand for him to take as well, but you weren’t surprised when it was left hanging in the air.

“Well,” Henry dropped his hand and turned back to you, “I wish you luck! I’d offer you my number as a support line, but I wouldn’t want to impose!”, “Yes, please, that would be great!” you waited for him to finish speaking before you interjected with your acceptance out of politeness.

The truth was, after the events of today, this was going to be hard. You didn’t want to keep making mistakes that would backtrack any progress the two of you were making. The man took out his phone and passed it to you so you could input your number, “I’m very new to this, so any help is appreciated,” you gave him his phone back once you were done and felt your own phone vibrate with a text after he’d typed you a quick message. “You’ve certainly made a bold choice for your first hybrid,” his eyebrows jumped as his eyes lifted from his phone and to Jayce, again looking him up and down, “Any questions, shoot me a text.” 

He said his goodbye and made his exit, grabbing the sleeve of Abraxas’ jacket and forcing him to walk with him, you could hear the muttering of scolding fade with them.

Jayce seemed to relax when it was just the two of you again. You thought about doing the same thing Henry had done and reprimand him for almost starting a fight, but the sympathetic expression he held told you that he already knew.

“I got you a cupcake,” you changed the subject and his features softened as he regarded the plate you’d been holding in your hand the entire time, “I hope you like it.”

He took the cupcake off of the plate, picking the strawberry off of the frosting and holding it in his palm. He bit into the sponge, almost eating the whole thing in one go, and you held your breath with anticipation.

His tongue wiped away any traces of the frosting that had attached themselves to his moustache and he hummed whilst nodding his head, showing his enjoyment. You let out your breath.

“Are you okay to eat it while we walk? I think they’re closing,” you twisted your head to see the members of staff wiping down tables and putting the chairs on top. Jayce didn’t give you an answer, but started walking towards the door instead.

The evening air was much colder than when you’d arrived, the sun having set a few hours ago and the only illumination you had was the streetlamps.

Jayce had finished his cupcake before you’d even caught up to him outside. He picked up one half of the strawberry and placed it into his mouth, the red berry seeming no bigger than a small candy in his palm as he presented the other half to you. You shook your head, “No, I got it for you,” but he moved his hand closer to you, insistent on you having it. You reached up and hesitantly took the strawberry half between your index finger and thumb, the tips of your skin gently brushing against his palm; it was warm, really warm, with a roughness to it that you didn’t want to question.

Placing it into your mouth, you chewed with a thankful smile as he licked the part of his hand where the sticky residue of the fruit had leaked and brushed his hands off against each other.

“Shall we go get some snacks for home?” you said once you’d swallowed, the word ‘home’ seeming foreign to say to someone other than yourself, reminding yourself that it was now his home too.

His nod certified your next plan of action and you led him to the closest store you knew would be open. He stayed close to you as you roamed the aisles, picking up what snacks you wanted and encouraging him to do the same. As you approached the register you passed the stationary section and an idea came to you. It would be impossible for you to pick something up without Jayce noticing, so as casually as you could, you picked up a sketchbook and a metal tin of drawing pencils. You remembered how interested he was in the artist earlier and wondered if he wanted to try it himself.

By his unchanged expression, you assumed he didn’t notice, or thought it was for you.

You paid and continued your walk back to your apartment, the inky black night sky now hung fully above you, it really was getting late. There was too much light pollution in town, all the neon signs of bars and restaurants, with the bright street lamps, meant that any attempt at observing the stars would be pointless.

Has Jayce ever seen the stars? You thought to yourself. He must have, from his years of not having a roof over his head. But had he ever stargazed without the fear of what the dawn brought? You made a mental note to yourself to take him further out of town one day to do just that, maybe even camping?

You were so deep into your mental to-do list that you barely noticed when Jayce had stopped walking. His head was tilted towards the high rooftops of the tall buildings, drinking in the LED lights that you’d seen so many times since winter hit.

You shuffled next to him and stuffed your hands into your pockets to protect them from the chill, taking in the bright white snowflakes and tinsel that draped from roof to roof. In some sense of it, this was probably the equivalent of Jayce seeing the stars for the first time, under different conditions.

To you, it was a simple and repetitive thing that the council organised every year, but to him it was the first time seeing the festive lights. You thought about how it must feel, to have a moment of wonder so late in your life, one that you had taken for granted as a child, but a glance at his face answered your question.

The pulsing glow radiated in the glossy surface of his eyes, as if the stars themselves had nestled into them to twinkle and shine, recognising another celestial body. The soft hue of the whites, green and reds reflected against his skin, illuminating him like he too was a celebration to be marvelled at.

It astounded you how anyone could treat this man so poorly. His features were so full of longing and affection that he wasn’t yet ready to share with another living person, an adoration that begged to be allowed to the surface. But the festive lights were an exception, they couldn’t hurt him.

You opened your mouth to usher him along, to mutter a quiet “Let’s go home,” but you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt this moment. 

So, you patiently waited for him until he was ready. Viewing the lights you’d seen in various different places throughout your life, they were always similar designs, but this time through a new lens. Appreciating them from a new perspective, the perspective of Jayce.

lockjaw:

lockjaw:

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[softaestluv]

The king assigns four knights to the princess in hopes to protect his daughter’s innocence and modesty, your virtue and purity. But your poor father doesn’t know what happens behind closed doors. Can’t seem to figure out why every potential suitor runs away with their tails tucked between their legs.

Knight! Tf141 x Princess! Reader

Tags: Poly! Tf141, Stereotypical hierarchy during regency era, Regency era inaccuracies, Mentions of forced marriage, Mention of non-consensual/aggressive touching/pulling/pushing, angst, fluff, eventual smut

Next (soon!)

The king, your father, assigns four knights to your side because you can’t seem to keep yourself out of trouble or disgracing the family name. He hopes to protect his daughter’s innocence and modesty, your virtue and purity. Four knights who he thinks are doing their job quite well, pleased to hear that you haven’t been causing too much havoc around the kingdom.

But your poor father doesn’t know what happens behind closed doors. Can’t seem to figure out why every potential suitor runs away with their tails between their legs.

You suppose it started rather innocent, your father wanted you to find a suitor, become married to a distinguished family. Give him an heir even if you did not want to, were not ready for a child of your own. So, when your father started inviting suitors to the castle you hid amongst the abundance of wardrobes and armories you could find.

You were thankful that you had a loyal lady-in-waiting by your side, tried to hide your secret for as long as she could from the king. But when this no longer worked you began to climb the garden walls. Which wasn’t exactly an easy feat, especially in the bodice and garments you were constantly adorned with. Tore the stitching in one too many gowns, bashfully brought the ripped fabric to your handmaiden.

Regularly scolded how ‘your highness, I have never met a young lady who’s ruined so many gowns before. Perhaps you should have learned how to sew instead of how to ride a horse.’

‘But I do know! Mama taught me so!’ you would argue, plopping your head at her knees while she sewed, ‘If she was still here do you think she would stop father from forcing me to wed?’

‘I do not know, little deer, but the king has been entirely gracious with you. You have reached the age to marry for years now, and he never demanded it of you until now.’

‘Well, perhaps he should have done it when I was young and naive! Maybe I would have been more inclined with the woes of marriage.’

She would laugh nodding her head, ‘Yes, perhaps he should have. You’re too stubborn for your own good.’

And when she was done, she would show you the double stitching she used to reinforcer the material to prevent any future tears. Then lean real close and whisper the next date your father had invited suitors with a hushed promise of preparing your horse outside the garden walls for your ‘great escape.’

You thought that would be the worse of it, but maybe your defiance came as a guttural shock to your father. You had been nothing but obedient, the perfect image of a princess before now and perhaps he was not prepared for your sudden insolence. Had called you into his royal office to scold you that he could not understand why you would possibly be undermining his honor.

‘Perhaps he had given you far too much freedom,’ he had grumbled, ‘Maybe he should not have taught you how to ride a horse or how to shoot a bow and arrow. It was unladylike to know how to hunt, after all.’

‘But Father, you were the one who insisted on taking me hunting! Mama advised you otherwise.’ You had interjected.

‘Yes, indeed, it would have been wise to listen to your mother.’

‘Father, I assure you that knowing how to hunt has not hindered my want to be married.’

‘Then maybe it is all those books you have been reading, filling your mind with strange ideas and fantasies. That will not do, you are my daughter and you will marry.’

That was when he assigned the royal guard, Sir MacTavish, to your side. You had thought that was rather dramatic, a knight would not make you marry. Though, it was not the worst company to have, and he was quite easy to charm. So, when the first visitor arrived after MacTavish was assigned, you were able to wrangle your way out of his sight. A fact that your father wasn’t entirely pleased about. You almost felt guilty watching MacTavish get reprimanded by your father.

Which is how you found yourself in your current situation. If one knight wasn’t enough, your father certainly thought four should do the trick, which proved true. It was rather difficult to escape the tight confines of knights such as Sir Price and Sir Riley, the pair was far more diligent and rigid than MacTavish was.

You thought four knights was a bit excessive especially considering you were merely a princess and not an enemy to the throne. Truthfully, you might have taken MacTavish for granted. Not a moment went by where you weren’t under the watchful eye of the royal guard. Couldn’t roam the castle without them following close behind, perched in the library reading a book and there they were. Sat in silence while you practiced the piano in the great hall, watched you paint with oils and watercolors in the drawing room, followed along on your horse rides.

At first you despised it, despised them with every breath. Privacy was nonexistent for a woman such as yourself, and four knights were not exactly the company you craved, but with time they began to meet your fancy.

Sir Price began to share novels he read with you when the two of you sat in the library. Swapped preferred books with each other every week before discussing the language and thoughts when returning the next week after finishing the works. The discussions would turn quite heated, but Price would laugh along, a glint of admiration in his eyes every time you challenged something he said or the words in the book.

Sir Garrick sat on the piano bench with you while you played; he enjoyed the music, the sounds and symphonies, so you taught him how to play easy songs and ballads. Couldn’t help but smile every time he mastered a song with you, every time he wanted to show the other three knights what he learned proudly. Met your eyes with reverence and adoration every time the two of you performed a song without mistakes.

Sir MacTavish accompanied your side while painting, albeit he was a far better artist than you were, so he helped you more than you were able to help him. Explained certain ways you could stroke your brush, how to apply shadows and depth, angles and perspective until you were accurately able to capture a landscapes, sunsets, and portraits. Clapped and smiled at you boisterously and proud when you finished a new painting, singing your praises.

Sir Riley drank morning tea with you before joining you on your horse rides in the forest. As soon as it became an established routine, he had a cup of warm tea waiting for you every morning, drank in comfortable silence while you rubbed the sleep from your tired eyes. He followed far behind on your rides, gave you the space and freedom he knew you had been craving, or maybe it was because he enjoyed the peaceful look on your face in the dewy mornings; you weren’t entirely sure, but you cherished the time anyways.

Now, there was not a day you did not look forward to MacTavish’s careless talking, unconcerned and informal or the deep grunts of acknowledgement from Riley. You treasured your interactions with them, but it did not change the fact that they were there to push you into the hands of dukes you did not want. Just as they sat there during your leisure; they accompanied your side when you were sent on excursions with dukes and lords. Forced you to participate and eliminate any chance of an escape.

Maybe you were still naive, maybe you should not have believed that they would not follow your fathers orders, that the bond you were beginning to form with them was more than that. So, as much as you enjoyed their time; your relationship with them remained hostile when it felt as if they betrayed you. Your words were harsh, your stares even harsher; you shut them out, stopped reading the books Price would give you, sat in the middle of the piano bench to prevent Garrick from sitting with you, painted in the confines of your private quarters, pushed the tea that Riley would make away as soon as your fathers efforts seemed to work, as soon as you were sent off to be married, an act you did not have a say in, not when you father honored the man with his blessing to take your hand.

When you had turned to your four knights for help, they turned their gaze the other way, left you stranded and helpless. You were sure they had heard you crying in your room more times than not, wallowing in your bed because you were to marry a man that repulsed you.

Still, they did nothing, but guide you into his arms.

You knew it was not entirely their fault, they were serving their king, following his orders no matter how much it pained them to watch you push them away, listen to the sobs ricocheting off your walls, but it still settled a nasty taste in your throat, vile and painful every time they ushered you to another ball with the Duke.

That was before Sir Riley had attended a horse ride with you and the Duke, trailed far behind the two of you when you stopped at the stream you always perched yourself at every morning. It was not mandatory for Riley to follow you, not when you were in the presence of the Duke, but he came along anyways. Maybe it was because he wore his occupation like a badge of honor, maybe it was because he did not trust the Duke alone with you.

Perhaps he knew he should not have trusted the Duke.

You had begun to peel your shoes off, just like you always did at the stream, preparing yourself to walk into the cold water. The Duke watched you with hesitant eyes contrasted the reverence in Sir Riley’s directly behind him; it was an act he had seen you perform countless times, stood and watched you closely, so you would not lose your footing, but it was new to the Duke. An action he deemed he did not like as he lunged forward as soon as you began to move, banding his strong grip on your arm.

“You are not to go into that water.” The Duke snarled, pulling you backwards so harshly that you stumbled over your footing, fell backwards into the rushing water.

Sir Riley was by your side in an instant, hoisting you into his brawny arms, and carrying you to stable ground, settling your bare feet in the dry grass.

“My princess, are you alright?” Riley asked, concern laced in his tone, as his eyes darted over your wet frame, gown dripping with water, to find any injuries.

You nodded your head through chattering teeth and wet clumped lashes, “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, just cold.”

Riley removed his cloak at your response, placing it on your shoulders before typing it off around your neck, smoothing his large palms over the fabric to emit warmth.

“Oh, she’s okay; It’s just some water,” The Duke sneered from behind Riley.

You watched the edges of Riley’s irises shift hard, steel-like, turning to snap at the Duke, seething, “I’d choose my words very wisely if I was you.”

The Duke didn’t have more to say, trotted behind on his horse as Riley escorted you back to the castle. Ushered you inside your private quarters quickly, gesturing for the other three knights to join him, murmured to you that they had business to take care of before disappearing down the grand hall.

That night when you were summoned for dinner, you were surprised by the absence of the Duke, but when you pressed the maids all they shared was that the he left with swollen cheeks and blackened eyes without an explanation to your father. And when you met your knight’s eyes across the room, you couldn’t help but smile.

dividers made by @/olenvasynyt! I will also be reblogging the post if you guys want to support as well!

masterlist

[fanged-fanfics]

Hello! I hope you're doing alright and that you're getting plenty of rest. I've recently discovered your blog, and I love your one shots that I've read so far. I've read your Macaque x GN reader with a baby (which is cute, btw), but I was wondering if you could do one with Sun Wukong as well? Maybe in this one, while little baby is watching their daddy and MK train and witnessing Sun do an impressive move, the baby excitedly calls out Dada to him. Cue the proud, teary-eyed papa flinging them high in the air (but not too high), happy that he is their first word, while GN reader watches on, also proud of their little one

🧡👑 Little Peach Speaks — Wukong x Parent!GN Reader Fic 👑🧡

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨👑୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

For quite a while, parenting wasn't something Wukong was sure he was going to do. His strongest memories of interactions with kids were the likes of Nezha and Red Boy. Both of which were mainly him fighting them violently, which did not give a good start to potential parenting. MK was a much better example of his capabilities, even if the kid was more like a little brother. Still, it wasn't perfect, but he had slowly warmed up to the idea as the years went by.

You, however, had changed a lot of that. With you by his side, he was able to feel comfort and reassurance that he had been missing. Learning to communicate with you strengthened his confidence, and after a good long while, you both agreed to have your little cub. Wukong stuck to the ideal immediately, imprinting as a father onto the cub the second they were born. He may not be perfect (he was used to the FFM cubs, which were more durable and a lot closer to keeping up with him), but several hours of watching you tend to the cub with wide and damp eyes helped him greatly.

Taking the cub along for training with MK didn't initially seem like a good idea. The training, of course, usually didn't get too bad, but there was sufficient flinging and big heroic tricks that made the area of the dojo dedicated to it one to tread with caution. So, to keep out of harm's way, you were given a special spot a few feet from where the training would actually take place, fit with you own special chair and a side mini table to rest your belongings. You were gently bouncing the little cub in your lap, the baby awake and alert. They looked around with their wide and curious eyes, taking in all the colors and new shapes the dojo provided. The gentle feeling of warm sun rays was also good for them. You had a steady hand around the cub, balancing and watching them closely.

Your eyes occasionally flicked to the scuffle ahead, seeing the two lads train tirelessly as always. You smiled, hearing your cub coo in their direction. You sat them on your lap, sitting up straighter. "I know you can't see it very well, but that gold blurr right there is your baba" you explained. The cub babbled softly, and you chuckled as you gently pet their fuzzy little head. "He's always a busy monkey. But he's training the next hero, you know" you explained. You were aware this was mostly you talking to the air, but your cub had their little eyes latched onto the training session. So you pretended they were old enough to understand, if only for a little humor. "He does this to protect you, little sprout. To protect all the people of the city. He's a very strong hero"

The cub had their fist in their mouth, gumming at it absentmindedly. You gently pulled it out for them, rubbing the itty bitty paw with a cleaning rag you had prepped. As you did so, the cub stared steadily ahead. Wukong pushed off of an attempted staff swing from MK, doing a backflip in the air before landing on his prehensile tail. He chuckled as MK stumbled back, leaning on his knees with wheezing pants. "Good job, bud! Getting a liiittle faster!" He beamed proudly. "It doesn't feel like it" MK complained with an irritated pout. Wukong chuckled, stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders before getting into a battle stance again. "That means it's working! If this was easy, it wouldn't be good training". MK groaned, spinning the staff around. After a quick chug from a nearby water bottle (one of your ideas), he shook his head before crouching as well.

Before either could charge, Wukong's ears picked up on a very small and struggled out, "Dada!". His head whipped around in your direction, seeing you looking down at your cub surprised. Wukong narrowly missed an attempted hit by MK by immediately zipping to your side, leaving the successor to fumble. "Did they-?" Wukong asked, and you nodded "They did, I swear! Just now". Wukong kneeled down, level with his cub "Can you say it again, little peach? Please? For dad?". The baby giggled, leaning forwards and putting a tiny paw on his nose and chirping out a "Dada!"

Wukong's face lit up like the sun, scooping the cub from your lap in a swift motion. He tossed them up in the air, but kept in mind his strength, catching them immediately "Yes!! Dada, that's right! Oh, good job, little peach! That's so perfect" he said, voice full of vibrant joy "Can you say 'baba'?". "Abbppt.. bb... daba!" The cub babbled. Wukong tucked them into his chest, nuzzling his cheek into the top of their head "Good enough! Oh, you're so smart already! You're gonna be the next Great Sage, huh?" He cooed. You stepped up, a hand on his shoulder as you pet the cub's chubby left cheek "Such a smart little blossom" you said gently, chuckling as you noticed a tear pricking Wukong's eye. He gave the cub a kiss on their head, before kissing your cheek "They're perfect, sunshine" he said, before adding in a teasing tone, "Told ya I'd be who they said first". You gave him a playful light nudge, heart full of pride as you looked at your grinning cub.

"Uh.. Monkey King?" MK asked nervously "Should I... go, or-?"

[fanon-elio]

.•°Sweet Little Mistakes°•.

Von Lycaon x Gn!Reader

Lycaon confessing his love for you in a (for him) less than ideal situation.

Tag: Nsfw! (Minors Dni)

Warning: Rut, biting, slight mentions of blood, breeding kink, Lycaon being a nervous wreck, small fluff at the end ♡

Not proofread.

Small mistakes are bound to happen. No matter how meticulously you plan ahead for whatever could happen. In one second, fate could throw a curved ball at you, and derail everything you worked so hard for.

Such was the reality of Lycaon's job. It was expected of him to prepare for every possibility. To act accordingly and perform with precision and perfection even in the face of the unexpected; no matter if it was a wine stain that needed to be scrubbed out immediately, or having to go against an entire pack of Hati inside a hollow.

One small mistake, one small slip up could mean death inside a hollow. And even though he currently didn't find himself inside a hollow, the mistake he had allowed to happen felt just as severe.

-__--__--__--__--__--__--__-

You could call it a series of unfortunate Events. Starting with him forgetting to fill out the perscription for his suppressants, simply because he had once again dove head first into his work. Something that you had warned him over and over again not to do.

Ah and then there was you. Sweet, caring, wonderfull y/n. Always a smile on your face that never failed to lighten up his day no matter what had happened. And even though your relationship with him had started as nothing more than simple acquaintance, it quickly became a strong friendship.

The more you two talked, and spend time with eachother. Learning and understanding eachother, the more he found himself thinking about you.

It was small moments like seeing an item he was certain you'd like when he was running errands, already picturing your expression if he'd gift it to you. Or the simple subtle wag of his tail anytime he recieved a text message from you.

Everything seemed so much brighter with you around, and it was in moments where he caught himself staring at you for longer than he should, or the rapid beating of his heart anytime you met his gaze that he realized he was utterly, and hopelessly in love with you.

He greatly appreciated his friendship with you, but as this feeling in his chest continued to bloom he found himself yearning for more with you.

Not just a good friend, but a potential lover.

But regretably for him; sweet, caring, wonderfull y/n had unknowingly become a part in this dilemma. You weren't at fault in the slightest, all you wanted to do was check up on him because you though he was sick. He remembers the Muffins you had backed for him, and how they were now left completely abandoned in the kitchen of his apartment.

He should have send you away, but he didn't. He simply couldn't. Your words were too sweet, your actions too kind, and your touch too caring like they had always been. And before he realized that his composure was slipping through his fingers like fine Sand, his lips had already found yours.

Everything had happened so suddenly. He would have expected you to push him off of you, to shout at him and slap him like he deserved it. But instead you had deepened the kiss, and one thing led to another.

Now he found himself in said dilemma: above you, and his entire length burried balls deep in you as he came down from another high. He breathes heavily, another wave of post-nut-clarity washing over him, and he wondered how many times he had already came inside you. 2 maybe 3 times? He lost track, or rather he had stopped counting all together.

He looked down at your form. Sweating, slightly shacking from your own orgasm and he swallowed thickly as the realization once again hit him. One slip up, and he had completely ruined his friendship with you, and there was no way you two could ever go back to whatever you had before. But the lust bubbling in his guts overpowered his guilt, his hands perched on your hips as he once again started thrusting into you.

This is not how he would have wanted you to know about his infatuation towards you. He would have prefered to take you out on a nice dinner, maybe a small stroll through the city afterwards and then sitting down to stargaze somewhere. His clawed hands gently carressed your back, and a frown formed on his face.

But not this. This seemed too shallow and out of place for his taste.

You deserved better.

His hands left your back and moved to hold the back of the sofa before he picked up his pace. But oh how he loved the sounds you were making, it almost drove him insane. The way how you whined and moaned his name, as if it was the only word you were still capable of forming.

He leaned down, letting his canines ghost over your shoulder. Seemingly testing the boundaries that, surprisingly didn't seem to exist for you as you moved your head to the side to give him better access.

He contemplates for a second, wondering if he should really go through with this. It was so incredibly tempting, especially because you gave him permission to indulge this side of him. So dispite his doubts he slowly let his fangs sink into your shoulder, immediately feeling immense satisfaction wash over him at the faint taste of iron on his tongue. You yelped a bit at the slight sting of pain, instinctively reaching for his hand and squeezing it as you came once again.

He halted his pace as you came down from your high, his tongue running over the bitemark on your shoulder before placing a kiss on it as a silent apology. He once again carressed your back, noting the rise and fall of your shoulders with every heavy breath you took. Slowly he unsheathed himself, and at first you wanted to object. But your words got stuck in your throat as he turned you over, effortlessly picked you up and once again impaled you on his length. "Hold on, I'm almost there" he whispers in your ear before he once again begins his onslaught.

Lycaon could feel your nails digging into his shoulderblades as you clung to him. It stung slightly, but right now he didn't mind it too much. Dispite the overwhelming pleasure he felt, his mind continued to spiral.

He wondered if you'd see him in a different light now. Would you think of him as a player? Who only befriended you to get his dick wet. He was mortified at the thought.

He could feel himself once again getting close to the edge, and in an attempt to mend what he thought was already beyond repair, he told you now fully honest "I love you y/n" before completely toppeling over it. Stars danced across his vision as he continued to pulse and throb inside you, and it was as if you had read his mind when you turned your head and kissed him again. It caught him by surprise at first, but he quickly reciprocated the gesture. This kiss was different. It was sweet, loving and caring not just purely driven by lust. He found it easing his nerves who were still ablaze from his worry and his orgasm. He let's himself fall down on the sofa, you still in his arms as you both tried to catch a breather.

For some time both of you sit in silence. Lycaon wanted to say something, he more than owed you an explination after all "I am truly sorry y/n" he manages to say, his eyes meeting your confused ones "for what?" You asked breathlessly. He exhales, breaking eyecontact with you "I hope you don't think less of me now." He says, the guilt in his voice accentuating his worry "why would I think less of you?" you asked him "that was amazing" Lycaon can feel his cheeks warm up a bit, and he mentally pokes fun at himself for growing embarassed now even though he just had sex with you. "I just want to reassure that... I actually ment what I said earlier" he then meets you eyes again "I do love you. Very much." A warm smile finds you features, and it eases his nerves like it always does "I love you too" you tell him, his ears perking up at your confession, and his tail rhythmically thumped against the sofa cussion.

Another sigh escaped him. This time one of happiness and relief as he wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer. "Regardless, I would have prefered to properly go out with you" a small sigh escaped him "it's not too late for that" you boop his nose, slightly bewildering him "we can still go out with eachother" you tell him, yawning as your exhaustion finally catches up with you. He smiles down at your tired form, gently pressing a kiss to your forehead as you slowly drifted to sleep

"It's a date then"

-__--__--__--__--__--__--__-

Thank you for reading, I hope it was to your liking. So glad I was finally able to post something because the stress is currently fucking me in a way I'd love Lycaon to fuck me (brainrot still going strong as you can see) My final exams on may 5th are drawing closer and closer, and I've been drowning in my work and studying as of late. I still have so many ideas I wanna write about. For example some oneshots with Lighter because I love him. But all of that in due time.

So for now, stay save and have a good day!

-Elio

[xuchiya]

accidentally have 8 pets || ateez || chapter 3

| genre: fluff. slice of life. small tinge of angst. kind of supernatural(?) | mentions: doctors. vets. needles. adoption. a bit cruel. magic starts. abuse to animals. laws. douyin saving the day. TAGLIST: CLOSED

back to masterlist || chapter 4

The next morning, I carefully place the final batch of croissants onto a baking tray, ensuring each one is evenly spaced to allow for a perfect rise. The dough, layered with butter and proofed overnight, already carries the promise of a golden, flaky texture. With practiced ease, I brush a thin coat of egg wash over the delicate layers, knowing it will create the crisp, glossy crust that makes each bite irresistible. The scent of warm yeast and butter lingers in the air as I slide the tray into the preheated oven, setting the timer for twenty minutes—just enough for them to reach that perfect balance of crispness and softness.

As I straighten up, I run my hands over my apron, brushing off the fine dusting of flour clinging to my fingertips. The kitchen is quiet except for the steady hum of the oven and the faint sounds of movement from the front of the café. Making my way toward the sink, I let out a soft sigh, feeling the slight ache in my arms from the morning’s work. The cool rush of water soothes my skin as I rinse away the remnants of flour, butter, and dough, watching as the cloudy mixture swirls down the drain. These small moments—cleaning up, resetting before the next task—are just as much a part of baking as the mixing and folding. They give me a chance to pause, to take in the comforting stillness of the kitchen before the day fully begins.

The café has always carried a quiet, almost serene ambiance, with the only consistent sound coming from the gentle hum of the air conditioner. The occasional murmurs of customers blend into the background, their voices never rising above a comfortable lull. Yet, beyond the front counter, the kitchen remains untouched by the world outside—an isolated sanctuary where the rhythmic sounds of baking are the only disruptions to the silence.

It is in this very corner that Hongjoong has found his own place of respite. Whether it’s the warmth of the ovens or the peaceful solitude of the backroom, he often curls up there, lost in thought or drifting off into light naps between breaks. Meanwhile, at the front of the café, Wooyoung upholds his role as manager with an intensity that keeps both the business running and any potential troublemakers at bay.

The thought of the café ever being robbed never truly crosses my mind—not because we are immune to such threats, but because Wooyoung himself serves as an unshakable deterrent. His sharp eyes catch every movement near the counter, and his reflexes are faster than most would expect. Any customer who lingers a little too close to the register is met with a sharp hiss of disapproval, followed by a swift, precise bop to the offending hand. His vigilance has become so notorious that it even caught the attention of the local authorities after a viral clip showcased his aggressive yet oddly effective boundary enforcement. While some argued about his methods, the overwhelming support from customers—and the undeniable proof of his effectiveness—ultimately silenced any critics. If anything, Wooyoung had become something of a legend, his presence alone enough to keep any would-be thieves at bay.

I let out a soft sigh, pressing a gentle kiss to Hongjoong’s head before making my way back to the counter. There, Douyin stood, casually chatting about asynchronous classes as he assisted a customer with their order. His voice was steady, effortlessly switching between casual conversation and professional service.

Wooyoung, meanwhile, had claimed his usual spot at the waiting counter, his presence effortlessly drawing attention. Customers watched him with quiet adoration, their gazes following the slow, rhythmic sway of his tail as it flicked lazily in the air. Completely unfazed by the attention, he remained curled up, indulging in one of his signature midday naps.

As a woman collected her order and turned to leave, I offered her a polite smile. “How’s it going?” I asked, my tone warm as I watched her depart.

Douyin hummed in approval, finishing up a transaction before glancing at me. “It’s going well. Your croissants are still the number one favorite among customers,” he mused, tapping the register lightly. “Not surprising, though. I already knew they were good—I had a taste before you even opened up.” His smirk held no shame, only firm confidence in his judgment. “And trust me, they’re definitely worth the hype.”

I smiled at his words, feeling a sense of pride—until his last remark fully registered. My expression froze before vanishing entirely, my head snapping toward him in disbelief.

“Wh-What?!” I sputtered, my voice rising slightly. Douyin only responded with a sheepish grin before swiftly turning his back to me, pretending to focus on preparing a cup of coffee. My mouth hung open, struggling to process his casual confession.

I distinctly remember warning Wooyoung—repeatedly—not to steal sweets. It wasn’t just about his health; I didn’t want to attract pests that could ruin the integrity of the kitchen. And yet, here I was, about to accuse my cat again for something that wasn’t even his fault.

“Kang Douyin—”

“Hey,” Both of our heads snapped toward the familiar voice. Taehyun stood near the counter, giving us a small wave. At the sound of his voice, Wooyoung’s ears perked up before he bolted toward him, his tail swishing excitedly as he meowed in greeting.

“Hello, Taehyun. The usual?” I asked, already reaching for the ingredients to prepare his drink. He nodded, offering a small smile as Douyin assisted him with the payment. Meanwhile, Taehyun busied himself with Wooyoung, scratching behind his ears as the feline purred in contentment.

A soft, inquisitive meow chimed from below. I glanced down, only to see Hongjoong staring up at me with round, expectant eyes. Chuckling, I bent down and gently picked him up, placing him beside Wooyoung. Taehyun let out a quiet gasp upon noticing the cat’s new look. His eyes widened slightly as he took in Hongjoong’s freshly groomed fur and the tiny bell attached to his pearl collar.

“Hongjoong, hello—how have you been?”

The Persian cat let out a soft meow in response, nudging his nose against Taehyun’s hand. A fond smile graced Taehyun’s lips as he ruffled the fur of both Wooyoung and Hongjoong, his touch gentle and familiar. The moment felt peaceful, a rare kind of serenity in the café’s usual routine.

Of course, peace never lasted long.

“Don’t hold up the line with your sappy little family reunion,” a sharp voice cut through the moment.

The warm atmosphere shattered like glass as our heads turned toward the source of the interruption. The same man from the apartment across our apartment door, stood right behind Taehyun, his impatient scowl evident as he tapped his fingers against the counter. Taehyun instinctively stepped aside, murmuring a quiet apology, but the second he moved, Wooyoung and Hongjoong reacted.

Their relaxed posture stiffened instantly, fur bristling as they arch their backs. A deep, guttural hiss escaped both cats as they fixated their sharp eyes on the man. Their tails flicked aggressively, warning signals flashing through their body language.

The café, which had been filled with soft murmurs and the hum of the air conditioner, grew eerily silent.

Surprisingly, the entire café fell into a tense silence, all eyes subtly shifting toward the man as he clicked his tongue in irritation. A flicker of disgust crossed his face, but I ignored it, choosing instead to prioritize the safety of my cats.

I scooped up Hongjoong while Douyin swiftly grabbed Wooyoung and Hongjoong from my arms, retreating toward the kitchen. The two felines continued to hiss in protest, their ears flattened against their heads. I exhaled through my nose, forcing a tight smile as I turned back to the man, unwillingly preparing myself to take his order—despite every fiber of my being wanting to kick him out.

“Sorry about that, sir. Is there something you’d like?” I asked, keeping my tone neutral.

The man scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief as if personally offended by the minor inconvenience. He was just about to speak when a familiar sound reached my ears—a whining, pitiful cry.

My breath caught in my throat.

It was the same husky from yesterday.

My eyes instinctively darted downward, and sure enough, there it was. But my stomach twisted at the sight. Unlike yesterday, when I had only heard its cries, I could now see the full extent of its suffering.

A thick chain, rusted and heavy, was wrapped tightly around the poor dog's neck instead of a proper collar. The once-beautiful fur was matted, stained with grime, and bearing marks where the chain had rubbed against its skin for too long. To make matters worse, a muzzle was strapped over its snout—too tight, restricting its ability to breathe properly. The dog whimpered again, its dull, exhausted eyes flickering up to meet mine.

I clenched my fists beneath the counter, my nails digging into my palms. A wave of anger and disgust surged through me, stronger than before. A deep frown etched itself onto my face as I looked back at the man, my voice escaping before I could stop myself.

“He’s not aggressive.”

The owner’s expression twisted in irritation, his grip tightening on the chain as he yanked it harshly, causing the husky to whimper. His teeth clenched, his voice low and venomous.

“Shut it, boy!” he snapped at the dog before turning his glare on me. “Listen here, lady, just take the damn order and mind your own fucking business.”

I fought the urge to hurl his drink straight into his face. My fingers twitched, my nails biting into my palm as I forced myself to remain composed.

Douyin returned from the kitchen, his sharp gaze immediately landing on the husky. His brows furrowed, concern flickering in his eyes.

“As much as animals have instincts,” he said coolly, “this looks a lot more like animal abuse.”

The man scoffed, rolling his eyes, before yanking on the chain once more. The husky let out a sharp cry—this time, unmistakably in pain.

Taehyun moved instinctively, stepping forward as if ready to intervene, but the man shot him a warning glare. Taehyun halted, his hands curling into fists at his sides, his jaw tightening as he leveled the man with a burning glare of his own.

“Animal abuse?” The man barked out a harsh, mocking laugh. “What the hell do you know about abuse?! Are you fucking with me, boy?!”

I stepped between him and Douyin, my own glare unwavering as I met his fury head-on.

“Sir, I strongly suggest you drop that chain. You’re hurting the dog. And keep your voice down—this is a café, not a goddamn alleyway.”

The man scoffed again, but after a tense beat, he let go of the chain. For a split second, I thought he might actually listen.

Then, he did something so vile, so beyond comprehension, that the entire café seemed to freeze in place.

With a cruel sneer, he kicked the husky.

Gasps rang through the café as the poor dog yelped, its body skidding across the floor, colliding with the stools by the barista counter. A pained howl escaped from its muzzle as it curled into itself, shaking violently.

My breath caught in my throat. My heart clenched so tightly it hurt— like hurt hurt— something similar when I first found Wooyoung in that alley with a wound on his paw and then Hongjoong all alone and small. It’s not because I am a pet lover like anyone here— no but because I suddenly felt like there’s a string attach between me and the pets I meet.

My entire body burned with fury, my hands trembling at my sides as my gaze snapped back to the man. He had the audacity—the sheer gall—to smirk as if he found amusement in the suffering he had just caused.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Taehyun shouted, already rushing toward the injured husky. My head snapped towards Taehyun as he held the husky in his arm. My gaze returned to the man, I was about to speak up, my anger bubbling over, when Douyin suddenly stepped in front of me. His posture was rigid, his shoulders squared with quiet authority, and for the first time since I had met him, a severe expression was etched onto his face.

Then, in a firm, unwavering voice, he spoke.

“Republic Act No. 8485, Section 6,” he began, his words sharp as a blade cutting through the tension. “It shall be unlawful for any person to torture any animal, to neglect to provide adequate care, sustenance, or shelter, or to maltreat any animal. It is also illegal to subject any dog or horse to dogfights or horsefights, to kill, cause, or procure to be tortured, deprived of adequate care, sustenance, or shelter, or to maltreat or use the same in research or experiments not expressly authorized by the Committee on Animal Welfare.”

A hushed silence fell over the café. Every customer, every worker—everyone had their eyes locked onto Douyin. His words rang familiar in my ears. I had never heard him speak like this before, reciting laws with such precision, such confidence. It was something I had only ever heard from public servants—police officers, lawyers, advocates.

Unless—My gaze trailed to Douyin, suspicion creeping in. “Do…?”

But before I could even finish my sentence, Douyin cut me off, his voice growing even colder, “Section 7,” he continued, his piercing stare never wavering from the man. “It shall be the duty of every person to protect the natural habitat of wildlife. The destruction of said habitat shall be considered a form of cruelty to animals, and its preservation is a means of protecting them.”

The man’s expression darkened, his mouth twitching as if ready to argue, but Douyin didn’t give him the chance. He took a step forward, his voice lowering into something dangerous—something that sent a chill down even my spine.

“And you, sir,” Douyin seethed, “have not only violated Section 6, but you have also shown a blatant disregard for Section 7. No animal—no living creature—deserves to be under your care.”

The café was deathly silent. And for the first time since he had walked in, the man looked uncertain. The man scoffed, jutting his chin at Douyin with a sneer, his arrogance thick in the air. “You must be good at talking nonsense because all I hear is shit. You just made that up. To what? Scare me?”

Douyin remained still, his expression unreadable, but before he could respond, a shaky voice broke the tense silence, “A-Ah, actually… that’s true.”

The café’s attention shifted toward the source of the voice. A young student, barely out of his teens, stood near one of the corner tables. His hands trembled slightly as he clutched his phone, his face pale but determined. His eyes flickered nervously between Douyin and the man, but he swallowed hard and pressed on.

“H-He’s talking about Republic Act No. 8485… I-It was enacted in February of 1998…” The student gulped, his voice gaining a bit more steadiness. “I-I’d advise you, sir, not to speak to a prosecutor like that.”

A cold chill settled in my chest. I snapped my head toward Douyin, my breath catching in my throat. “P-Pr… Prosecutor?” The word echoed through my mind, the realization hitting like a sudden crash of thunder.

The man’s confident demeanor instantly faltered. His smirk wavered, his jaw tightening as his eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape. His foot slid back instinctively, his bravado crumbling under the weight of the revelation.

“Y-You’re—” he stammered, his voice cracking.

Douyin didn’t move. His shoulders remained squared, his expression calm but unyielding. His voice carried a weight that sent shivers down my spine, “You’ve committed a serious act of animal cruelty.” His words were sharp, like a blade cutting through the tension. “You will face the authorities for what you’ve done.”

The man scoffed, attempting to regain his composure. He straightened up, feigning confidence, but his shifting gaze betrayed him.

“That’s if they can catch me.”

He pivoted sharply, ready to make a run for it. Only to slam straight into an immovable wall of people.

The café patrons had moved—subtly but effectively—forming a human barricade between him and the exit. Their expressions ranged from firm determination to outright disgust. Some had their phones out, already recording the scene, capturing every detail. Others stood with their arms crossed, blocking any possible escape route.

And standing at the very center of the blockade was Taehyun. His arms were folded, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. His stance was relaxed, but his eyes gleamed with an edge of amusement, as if he had been waiting for this exact moment.

He tilted his head slightly, voice light but filled with finality, “Welp,” he said, “a little too late for that.”

The flashing blue and red lights painted the street outside, a stark contrast to the warmth of the café. The weight in my chest never lifted, even as the officers pushed the man’s head down, forcing him into the back of the police car. His protests were useless, drowned out by the chatter of witnesses and the hum of justice finally being served.

Wooyoung and Hongjoong sat patiently on either side of me, their tails twitching as they silently observed the scene unfolding before them. I let out a slow breath, reaching down to stroke their fur before calling them to follow me back inside.

The café was empty now. The customers had left, but not before giving their statements—each of them eager to ensure that the man would face the consequences of his actions. If a trial happened, there was no doubt he’d lose.

Near the entrance, Douyin stood talking to one of the officers, his usual calm demeanor intact. A few feet away, Taehyun spoke to another officer, hands in his pockets, but his expression was unreadable.

My gaze was drawn to the cage near Taehyun’s legs. Inside, the husky lay curled up, his small body rising and falling with each breath. Wooyoung and Hongjoong climbed up the bars, their noses pressed against the metal as they peered inside. The husky remained still, shivering slightly even in his sleep.

My heart twisted painfully at the sight.

He’s still scared.

Taehyun noticed my expression and spoke gently. “You can visit him, you know.”

I looked up, meeting his soft gaze.

“Douyin found out that this husky’s been in and out of adoption… every time, the owners treated him the same way.” He sighed, shaking his head. “He had a companion before, but they got separated during his second adoption. After that, it was just one bad home after another.”

The more I heard, the tighter my chest felt. I clenched the fabric of my shirt, trying to steady my breathing, but each word made the weight heavier.

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t right.

And I—

A sharp inhale.

My lungs refused to expand properly.

My vision wavered as a rush of dizziness clouded my thoughts. My knees buckled before I could stop them, and the floor rushed toward me.

Somewhere in the haze, I felt strong arms catch me before I hit the ground.

Muffled voices—Taehyun’s? Douyin’s?—echoed in my ears, laced with concern. Their faces blurred in my swaying vision, but the last thing I saw before everything faded was the soft glow of the café ceiling above me.

The soft beeping of a nearby machine and the gentle pawing at my arm stirred me from my sleep. My body felt heavy, as if weighed down by exhaustion, but the cold, sterile brightness of the luminescent lights overhead was enough to coax my eyes open. This wasn’t home.

I blinked sluggishly, taking in the unfamiliar setting before my gaze landed on my right side.

Hongjoong was curled up beside me, his small body pressed close, breathing steadily in deep slumber. Wooyoung, on the other hand, was awake, his round eyes filled with concern as he pressed a paw firmly against my arm. The moment he noticed I was conscious, he let out a sharp meow—louder than usual.

The sudden noise startled Hongjoong, causing him to jolt awake. His head snapped up, disoriented, eyes darting wildly before landing on me. My lips parted, but my throat was dry, and the words scratched painfully as I whispered, “Hey, you two…”

Hongjoong let out a small, relieved sound and nuzzled into my neck, his warmth a stark contrast to the sterile coldness of the hospital bed. Wooyoung, still pressed against my arm, looked like he was trying to comfort me in his own way, his soft fur rubbing against my skin as I stroked his head absentmindedly.

For a brief moment, I let myself revel in their presence. The weight pressing against my chest was lighter now, though the ache still lingered. Then, the sound of the curtain being pulled aside broke the moment.

Douyin stepped inside, his face etched with concern, followed by a nurse. The second our eyes met, his lips parted in surprise, “Noona! You’re awake!”

His voice was filled with so much relief that it made my chest tighten again—this time, with guilt.

A small smile tugged at my lips as I tried to push myself up. The nurse was quick to assist, adjusting my pillows as she began a routine check-up. Her questions were simple, but I barely processed them, answering on autopilot as my attention remained on my younger brother.

Douyin watched me carefully, his usual playfulness absent.

The nurse soon stepped away, mentioning something about preparing my discharge, but I barely heard her. Instead, I turned to Douyin, my voice still hoarse as I asked, “How long was I out?”

He hesitated.

“A few hours…”

I gave him a pointed look, sensing his reluctance.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before muttering, “Almost twenty-four hours.”

My brows furrowed. “What?” Douyin pulled a chair closer and sat beside my bed, crossing his arms. He looked tired. His usual energetic presence was dampened, replaced with quiet worry.

“They said it was due to stress, overwork, and dehydration. Nothing life-threatening, but… still.” His voice trailed off, his lips pressing into a thin line. I exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair, “I’m feeling okay, don’t worry Do.” He nodded yet not convinced. I sigh, that made sense. I had been running on fumes for a while now. 

But for it to get this bad…

I glanced down at Hongjoong and Wooyoung, who were still curled up against me, refusing to move from my side. It was clear that they had been worried too.

Douyin sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Taehyun-hyung took care of the husky. He’s being transferred to another facility for proper treatment.” I nodded absentmindedly, but at the mention of the husky, the ache in my chest returned, sharp and unforgiving. For a brief moment, my breath hitched—just for a second—but it was enough to send Hongjoong and Wooyoung into alert.

Before I could react, they immediately perked up, their ears twitching. Then, in an instant, they rushed toward me, their movements frantic. I blinked in surprise, instinctively raising a hand. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Wooyoung, who normally had a more playful nature, pressed himself against my side, his purrs unusually loud, snout near my right wrist. Hongjoong was no different, rubbing his head insistently against my neck yet he moved underneath my right hand. They had never reacted this way before.

 Douyin, watching the scene unfold, frowned. “That’s… weird.” I glanced at him. “What do you mean?” He nodded toward my right wrist. “They keep going for the same spot when you are asleep.”

I looked down, confused.

Then, I saw it.

A black ink mark near my pulse point. My breath caught in my throat. I raised my arm, staring at the mark with wide eyes. It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t a smudge of ink or something that could be wiped away—it looked like…

“A tattoo?” Douyin’s voice was laced with curiosity. I pressed my thumb against it, rubbing at the skin, but it didn’t fade. It wasn’t ink. It was real.

But… I didn’t have any tattoos.

“I—I don’t get it,” I murmured, my pulse quickening. Douyin observed my reaction, his expression unreadable. Then, after a beat, he smirked—his usual teasing self peeking through.

“If you’re afraid of needles, that’s pretty brave of you.”

I scowled, lightly kicking his shin. “I didn’t get a tattoo.”

His smirk softened, and he leaned forward, resting his arms on the bed. His gaze flickered to my wrist again before meeting my eyes. “Then what is it?”

I swallowed hard, shaking my head. “I don’t know.”Silence stretched between us, only interrupted by the sound of Wooyoung’s purring.

Douyin sighed, then reached out, placing a hand over mine. His grip was firm, steady, “Whatever this is, whatever’s going on…” His voice was quiet but certain. “I’ll listen. Until you figure it out.”

I met his gaze. The worry was still there, but so was something else—an unspoken promise. And despite the whirlwind of confusion swirling inside me, I managed a small, genuine smile, “Thanks,” I whispered, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

The past two weeks had blurred into a haze of forced rest, reluctant healing, and the ever-watchful eyes of my younger brother and two vigilant felines. I had been advised—no, practically commanded—to stay home and recover before stepping foot back into work. Douyin, usually the more easygoing of us, had turned into a strict enforcer, refusing to let me even lift a pan without supervision.

It had been a battle. A losing one.

The moment I even thought of getting up to cook, Wooyoung would arch his back, tail fluffed like a bristling duster, while Hongjoong sat near my feet, unwavering in his silent judgment. If Douyin wasn’t scolding me, my feline companions took turns ensuring I stayed put.

I sighed, shaking my head at the memory as I placed my things inside my locker, finally back in the comforting space of the café. I ran my fingers over the cool metal, a sense of normalcy washing over me. No more bed rest. No more guilt-ridden stares from my brother. No more being treated like fragile glass.

It was good to be back.

Grabbing my apron, I tied it around my waist with a practiced motion, making sure my hair was tucked neatly under a net. The moment I turned around, two familiar figures hopped up onto the counter.

I chuckled, already knowing what they wanted.

Reaching back into my locker, I pulled out Wooyoung’s tiny necktie and ID, fastening them around his collar. He let out a small, satisfied trill, his tail flicking in delight. Then, I retrieved the small apron I had specially made for Hongjoong, draping it over him.

“There. Are we all clocked in?”

Wooyoung meowed in response before hopping off, squeezing through his designated door to reach the cashier’s counter. From there, he settled himself on his usual perch, surveying the café like a miniature manager.

I chuckled, glancing at Hongjoong, who had already curled up on the counter where I had set out today’s pastries. His fur blended seamlessly against the soft linens, his tail flicking lazily as he made himself comfortable.

“Will you be giving me a hand today?” I asked, amusement lacing my tone.

Hongjoong blinked at me slowly before resting his chin against his paws. A nap, it seemed, was more important than assisting me. I let out a mock sigh, shaking my head with a smile. “Well, thanks, Hongjoong.”

Despite his lack of assistance, their presence made the café feel even more like home. After everything that had happened, after the worry, the stress, and the lingering confusion about the strange tattoo on my wrist…

This moment—this small, simple routine—was enough to ground me again.

The rhythmic pressing of my palms into the dough, the soft give of the flour-dusted surface beneath my fingertips—it was supposed to be comforting. The repetition, the familiar motion, the scent of fresh yeast in the air. And yet, my mind betrayed me.

A sudden shift, like a thread pulling too tightly in my chest, made me pause. My breath caught, my hands frozen mid-knead as a memory—no, a vision—flashed through my mind.

The husky. Alone.

Curled inside his kennel, his body trembling—not from the cold but from something far worse. The kind of anxiety that sat heavy in the ribs, that clawed at the heart with an invisible force, making every breath feel shallow, every moment feel uncertain. His blue eyes, usually so piercing, looked dulled by fear, by confusion.

A gasp slipped past my lips. My fingers twitched over the dough, but the warmth of something soft brought me back.

A paw.

I blinked, vision clearing as I looked down. Hongjoong.

He was awake now, his large, doe-like eyes peering at me with quiet understanding. His paw rested gently over my hand, grounding me, tethering me back to reality.

I swallowed, exhaling shakily before looking back down at the dough. It felt lifeless under my touch. The energy I once had, the flow of creation that usually ran through my hands—it had dulled. Even as I finished shaping the first batch, sliding the tray into the oven, there was no satisfaction. No warmth of accomplishment.

Just emptiness.

With a quiet sigh, I sank to the floor, watching the oven’s glow flicker against the steel tray, illuminating the soft rise of the pastries as they baked. The warmth should’ve been comforting, but my mind was still elsewhere—trapped in the unsettling connection I couldn't quite explain.

Hongjoong settled beside me, pressing his body against my arm. Then, a nudge. His nose brushed against my wrist. My right wrist.

Frowning, I raised my arm slightly, tilting it towards the light. My heart stuttered.

The tattoo.

Or what should have been a tattoo.

I had already come to terms with its mysterious appearance—an incomplete mark of black ink, etched onto my skin like a secret I wasn’t meant to uncover yet. But now, I watched, breath hitching, as it moved.

Before my eyes, new strokes appeared, forming intricate patterns like ink seeping into parchment, slow and deliberate. Not a hallucination. Not a trick of the mind. The lines curled and extended, shifting into something more defined yet still unfinished. Like a puzzle slowly revealing its image.

Revealing something like a sign. A symbol. Something I didn’t remember choosing… but was undeniably becoming a part of me.

Minutes passed as I continued to stare at the tattoo that had just… changed. I could still remember the first time I saw it—weeks ago, in the hospital. Back then, it was nothing more than a small, black-inked circle near my wrist. An odd mark I didn't remember getting.

New lines had appeared, forming something almost geometric. A triangle? No, not quite. It had connections, lines that extended beyond its edges. Something about it resembled the shape of an eight, yet it has edge sharp, structured—more like a symbol rather than a mere design. It felt deliberate. Almost… calculated.

A strange chill ran down my spine. Before I could process anything further, hurried footsteps pulled me out of my daze.

“Are you okay?” Taehyun’s voice snapped me back to the present. I barely had time to lift my gaze before he was in front of me, kneeling, his sharp eyes scanning my face. His sudden closeness made my breath hitch—not out of fear, but out of surprise.

His hand was under my chin. I stiffened. My face grew warm under his scrutiny, yet he seemed oblivious to what he had just done. His concern overpowered any other thoughts he might’ve had.

“I—I’m good, Taehyun.” My voice came out uneven, but I managed a small nod. Satisfied, he pulled away, standing up and extending a hand. I hesitated for a second before placing mine in his, allowing him to pull me to my feet with ease. Dusting off my pants, I kept my gaze anywhere but on him, yet he still didn’t move.

He cleared his throat. “Did I come in at the wrong time?” I shook my head quickly, finally meeting his gaze. “No, are you here for your coffee?”

Taehyun nodded, but there was something off. His body language, the way he shifted his weight slightly, the way his fingers flexed at his sides. It was subtle, but it was there. He needed more than just coffee.

Raising an eyebrow, I crossed my arms. “Do you need pastries too?” He tilted his head slightly, an amused glint in his eyes. “Sorta, but… I need you.”

My breath hitched. From the counter, Hongjoong perked up, blinking as he glanced between me and Taehyun. I looked back at him, confusion evident in my expression. “Need me for what?”

Taehyun exhaled, his jaw tightening slightly as if preparing himself, “It’s the husky.”

The room felt colder. I swallowed, feeling my fingers twitch against my sides. The husky. That same strange sense of unease returned, curling into my chest, heavy and suffocating. Something told me I wasn’t prepared for what he was about to say.

MEET THE NEIGHBOOR'S FRIENDLY VET DOCTOR:

TAGLIST: @soso59love-blog . @yoongisgirl69 . @forever-atiny . @ateezswonderland . @fr34k4c1dr41n . @breadedloafs . @k1xiara . @nkryuki . @beabatiny . @berryguks . @miniverse-zen . @fight-me-uwu . @xh01bri . @eclipwze . @blue-angel24 . @nkryuki . @matchahintonagar . @asyamonet22 . @szakias . @sanaegi . @notyaelly . @wolviejex

[cececat]

STH FanStory Recommendations:

As well as writing, I have found myself also reading an awful amount of Sonic-related fanfiction and comics recently… So, I thought I’d share a few of my favourites in case anyone else has found themselves hyper-fixating over this fandom like I have recently 🦔

I’ll try to put them in sections but please note that quite a few of the topics tend to overlap. Oh and also, there happens to be an awful lot of Sonadow shipping too, because even if it’s not always the key focus in the story, it always seems to make its way into the things I consume now apparently 😅 So I’ll be sure to tag with 💙🖤❤️ if that’s relevant.

I hope you like this list (it took quite a while to put together) and be sure to show all of these stories and creators some love! 👇👇 👇

And obviously I had to start this list by plugging my own fanfiction stories, because I've been putting so much work into them and they will be updated regularly, while also making lots of other stuff as well... So please follow and/or subscribe for that... 😉 archiveofourown.org/users/cececatcreates

Live Action Universe:

Concord by EvieNyx (@evienyx) - [Complete] 💙🖤❤️ Focuses on Shadow after the third SCU movie. It’s really cute, and I feel like it accurately portrays movie-Shadow’s thoughts and memories, mixing together elements of the films with fan theories and other STH media canon.

Project Guardian by AealZX @aealzx - [Ongoing] Again, after the third SCU movie (there’s quite a few of them 😅) but Shadow is taken in as a fourth Wachowski sibling, who has to recover from severe injuries. Some art is included, and it’s just really sweet all-in-all.

Secrets In Our Quills by @nebrasska-alasska - [Ongoing] 💙🖤❤️ I’m sure many of you are already aware of their amazing stories, but this one is the longest so far, and also the closest to being completed. But if you like Sonadow slowburn and plenty of gay fluff, you should definitely read all of their incredible fanfics.

A Junk Yard Of Possibilities by CrazyForClones (@crazyforclones) - [Complete] This story looks at what happened to Agent Stone after Dr Robotnik’s death and focuses on the potentially adorable friendship that could blossom between him and Tails.

Family Loading… Please Wait by Humanities_Handbag ( @humanityinahandbag) & Invader_Sam (@smerfols) - [Ongoing] This quickly became a favourite, as it did with many others. 💕 It starts all the way back with the Wachowski’s adopting Sonic and then Tails and Knuckles and eventually Stone and Shadow, and it’s just the biggest, cutest family dynamic.

What Makes Us Who We Are by EmmaSmoke ( @emmasmoke8) - This is about the Mobians doing certain things their Earth animal counterparts would naturally do. My favourite parts are definitely Tails doing adorable fox things and Tom and Maddie trying to figure out what the heck all their anthropomorphic alien children are doing. 😅

Suspended by CheetahBoy (@90sfr3sh) - This looks at what could have happened if Sonic and Tails didn't get rescued by Maddie and Rachel during the second film. It's such a cool concept, I'm very excited to see what happens next! 😁

General / Alternate Universes:

Sonic Wave by Sharp_Silver (@sharp-silver-fanfic) - [Ongoing] I really love this story! 💕 It’s basically a full retelling of the STH universe lore, taking elements from all different bits of media. It’s been crazy good so far, so please give them your support!

Weird Science by satan_official - [Ongoing] 💙🖤❤️ This one is really interesting and it sort of makes me think of Equestria Girls (for any MLP fans out there!) but instead it’s Sonic and Shadow who are stuck in human bodies on the human world. It’s a bit different but really great so far 😁

Fixing Fractured Worlds We Briefly Broke by TheLittleStar_tm - [Ongoing] 💙🖤❤️ This is a fellow Prime fanstory, focusing on the trauma of all the Green Hills characters we already all know and love in the aftermath of season 3. 💔

Boom To Another Dimension by Gamerblade - [Ongoing] Explores what could happen if the SCU Live Action film characters were sent to the Sonic Boom universe, with pretty regular updates being uploaded so far. 😊

Into The Tailsverse by TheCatCacoon - [Ongoing] This one has a bunch of my favourite little two-tailed foxes, and, as someone who is also exploring bringing different Miles Prowers together, it’s intriguing to see how someone else writes these characters 🦊

Culture Shock by foggystarrs (@foggystarrs) - [Ongoing] 💙🖤❤️ Purely a Sonadow fanfiction, but it looks at hedgehog / Mobian courting behaviour and is just really cute 🥰 If you are a fan of oblivious gay and alien hedgehogs, you’ll probably love this one.

Others / Comics:

Sonic Desolation by Wren Rivers (@sonicdesolation by TrenchCoatGecko) - [Ongoing] This is a crazy detailed comic set around the events of the Sonic Forces game where Sonic is struggling with PTSD from what Infinite did to him during his imprisonment.

Heart Of A Monster by SuperEmeralds (@the-heart-of-a-monster by @superemerarts) - [Ongoing] Another insanely detailed comic, which is a retelling of Sonic Unleashed. Its so well done, plus there's a gentle sprinkling of platonic Sonadow.

Team Dark Supernova Odyssey by @sharpedgedfool (@teamdarksupernovaodyssey) - [Ongoing] This is a space opera comic revolving around found family and adventure themes, set as a hypothetical spin-off to the Shadow the Hedgehog video game.

Sonic Boom Revisited by @multiisketch , @mama-qwerty. & @star-stages (@sonicboomrevisited) - [Ongoing] This comic is amazing. A bit darker than the original series, but has just been so gripping so far. Regular updates too! Definitely recommended! 👍

Second Chance by @sumju - 💙🖤��️ - Who doesn’t love a Sonadow comic?? Plus Tails is adorable as usual (and reminding Shadow of Maria 😭) so that’s an added bonus 🧡

Infested by @flightyalrighty - [Ongoing] Viewer discretion advised for this one, it seems pretty dark...

Ask the Sonic Verse by @verizzafai (@asksonicverse) 💙🖤❤️ - [Ongoing] This is a fun, silly ongoing series which focuses on different versions of Sonadow all being stuck in the same room and getting sent questions from the audience.

Low Light by @verizzafai (@soniclowlightau) 💙🖤❤️ - Only a few pages so far, but looks very promising!

Broken Future by @teamchillidogs 💙🖤❤️ - [Ongoing] A tragic re-telling of an alternate ending of Sonic Adventure 2.

Silver's Parent Trap by @evilgenius-prower 💙🖤❤️ - A silly AU where Silver is actually the adopted future child of Sonadow and goes back in time to try and save his dads lives.

Eggsperiments by @prince-less - This is a new concept so there's not much content about it yet, but I really hope it becomes either a proper comic or fanfic or something similar, because I'm such a sucker for alternate stories of Sonic and Tails being the best brothers, and this a really cool idea 🥺

Sonadow Future by @torusonicpilled 💙🖤❤️- [Ongoing] Another newer one, with a few fanfic chapters and a few comic pages, but they've already got me interested from the idea that Tails can be resurrected, so I'm excited to see where it goes next ☺️

Sonic & The Olympus Heroes by @miitarion - Not sure if this will be continued as it was only shared quite recently, so might just be a one-off, but the art is incredible; Definitely worth a read! ✨

@mercurio-shadowz - They've not been following a particular storyline, but their art and short comics (especially about Shadow being a closeted gay disaster) are awesome. 🤩

Incomplete / Unfinished:

These are a bunch of stories that I really grew to love but they either stopped too long ago and so are presumably forgotten about, or may have been abandoned entirely and will likely never receive any conclusions. I’ve included when they were last updated, but only read these at your own discretion! ⚠️

• Can’t Defeat A Genius Without Taking His Brain by xenoon [4 months] • Deepest Desire by Tirainy [5 years] 💙🖤❤️ • Mad About You by Cherivide [1 year] 💙🖤❤️ • Sonic The Second Speedster by ItsZaira [1 year] • Sonic the Vagabond Hedgehog by @trekkerac (@tatck) [1 year] - This quickly became a favourite; Sonic and Tails' relationship is so adorable 😭 But you might only want to read the first issue and think of it as complete, since the second issue isn't complete and hasn't been touched for a year or so... 😔

I've tagged as many people as I can and might come back to this list later if I find more that I enjoy, but for now I think (hope!) it's mostly up to date 💖

[urdreamydoodles]

Bat-Family x Fem!OC

How they handle your relationship with your dog

Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne (aged up), Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Duke Thomas, Selina Kyle & Kate Kane

The return of the great, the beautiful, the unique... Mr. Pickles!

Jason Todd aka. Red Hood

- Jason was initially skeptical about your small, fluffy dog, Mr. Pickles. He wasn’t the kind of man who saw himself as the “cute dog” type, and the idea of having a pet that couldn’t fend for itself felt foreign to him. Yet, the moment he met Mr. Pickles, his gruff exterior cracked. The little fluff ball waddled up to him with wide, trusting eyes, and Jason, against all odds, melted. He let out a grumbled “You’re lucky you’re cute,” as the dog pawed at his boots, earning a chuckle from you.

- Over time, Jason became surprisingly attached to Mr. Pickles. He’d grumble about how ridiculous it was that the dog needed sweaters in winter and would roll his eyes at the sheer number of toys you’d bought. But you’d catch him sneaking pieces of his dinner to Mr. Pickles when he thought you weren’t looking, or lying on the couch with the tiny dog curled up on his chest while he read.

- Jason found humor in Mr. Pickles' lack of brightness. He’d mutter under his breath about how the dog walked into walls or barked at his own reflection, but you noticed the fond smile that tugged at his lips every time. “He’s not the smartest, but he’s got heart,” Jason would say, scratching behind Mr. Pickles' ears, his rough hands gentler than you’d ever seen.

- With you, Jason handled the balance between teasing and indulgence. He pretended to groan when you insisted on bringing Mr. Pickles on outings, but he’d always make sure to carry an extra bottle of water and snacks for the dog. “You spoil him,” he’d tease, but he was no better—making sure Mr. Pickles’ leash was securely fastened and standing protectively between him and any potential danger.

- On quiet nights, Jason would sometimes watch you and Mr. Pickles with an almost wistful expression. Seeing the two of you together softened the jagged edges of his life. “You two,” he’d murmur, pulling you close, “make me believe in good things.” And with Mr. Pickles snoring softly between you both, Jason found a rare kind of peace.

Dick Grayson aka. Nightwing

- Dick was utterly delighted when he first met Mr. Pickles. “This is the fluffiest dog I’ve ever seen!” he exclaimed, crouching down immediately to introduce himself. The dog responded with enthusiastic tail wagging and jumped into Dick’s lap without hesitation. “Looks like we’re already best friends,” he grinned, flashing that signature charm that made your heart flutter.

- He had a natural knack for handling Mr. Pickles, easily matching the dog’s playful energy. Whether it was throwing a toy across the room or initiating a game of tug-of-war, Dick seemed to genuinely enjoy spending time with the little fluff ball. He’d even create obstacle courses in your living room, guiding Mr. Pickles through them with patience and encouragement, clapping like a proud dad whenever the dog completed a “challenge.”

- Dick adored how much joy Mr. Pickles brought into your life. He’d often catch you giggling at your dog’s antics—whether it was the way he tumbled over his own paws or barked at a falling leaf—and join in your laughter. “He’s got your energy,” Dick would tease, pressing a kiss to your temple while the dog rolled around on the carpet, blissfully unaware.

- Despite his easygoing nature, Dick was fiercely protective of both you and Mr. Pickles. He’d instinctively pick the dog up when crossing a busy street or shield him from larger, more boisterous dogs at the park. “What?” he’d say when you teased him about it. “He’s family.” That simple statement warmed your heart more than you could express.

- On lazy mornings, you’d often wake to find Dick sprawled across the bed, Mr. Pickles snuggled into his side. He’d glance at you, sleepy but content, and say, “I think he likes me more than you.” You’d roll your eyes, but the sight of the two of them—your energetic, kind-hearted partner and your adorably clueless dog—made you feel like the luckiest person alive.

Tim Drake aka. Red Robin

- Tim’s reaction to Mr. Pickles was a mix of curiosity and mild awkwardness. “He’s…very fluffy,” he said when you first introduced them, his hand hovering hesitantly over the dog’s head before finally giving him a gentle pat. Mr. Pickles wagged his tail enthusiastically, oblivious to Tim’s initial uncertainty. “Does he do tricks?” Tim asked, trying to find some common ground with the little dog.

- It didn’t take long for Tim to warm up to Mr. Pickles, though. His analytical mind led him to research everything there was to know about small dogs. “Did you know their sense of smell is 40 times stronger than ours?” he’d say, sharing random facts as Mr. Pickles sprawled across his lap during one of your late-night movie marathons.

- Tim’s patience with Mr. Pickles was one of the things you loved most. Whether it was dealing with the dog’s clumsiness or his tendency to bark at inanimate objects, Tim never lost his calm. “He’s just trying to protect you,” Tim would say, crouching down to reassure Mr. Pickles after a particularly loud outburst at the vacuum cleaner.

- With you, Tim’s interactions around Mr. Pickles were quietly endearing. He’d bring home small toys or treats he thought the dog might like, and he always made sure Mr. Pickles had a comfortable spot when you were all relaxing together. “He’s part of the team,” Tim would say with a shy smile, and you’d feel your heart swell with affection.

- Late at night, when the world felt still and quiet, you’d find Tim at his desk, working on a case. Mr. Pickles would often be curled up on his feet, a tiny, fluffy sentinel keeping him company. “He’s a good dog,” Tim would say when you came to check on them, and in those moments, you realized just how seamlessly the two of them had fit into your life.

Damian Wayne aka. Robin (Aged up)

- Damian was, predictably, unimpressed when he first met Mr. Pickles. “What is this…creature?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as the fluffy dog sniffed curiously at his shoes. Despite his initial disdain, you noticed the slight softening in his expression when Mr. Pickles wagged his tail and licked Damian’s hand. “Tt. It’s not very intelligent, is it?”

- Despite his aloofness, Damian couldn’t help but form a bond with Mr. Pickles. You’d often catch him sneaking small pieces of food to the dog under the table or letting him sit in his lap during quieter moments. “It’s merely tolerable,” Damian insisted whenever you teased him, but the way he gently scratched behind Mr. Pickles’ ears told a different story.

- Damian approached caring for Mr. Pickles with the same precision and discipline he applied to everything in his life. He insisted on taking the dog for walks, ensuring that Mr. Pickles received proper exercise. “If he is to remain under our care, he must be healthy,” Damian explained, but you knew he secretly enjoyed their outings together.

- When it came to you, Damian’s interactions around Mr. Pickles were surprisingly tender. He respected how much the dog meant to you and went out of his way to accommodate him in your shared life. Whether it was ensuring Mr. Pickles had his favorite spot on the couch or making sure his water bowl was always full, Damian’s subtle acts of care melted your heart.

- Over time, Damian began to regard Mr. Pickles as more than just a pet. He’d occasionally refer to the dog as “our little knight” and even crafted a tiny, makeshift cape for him. Watching Damian interact with Mr. Pickles—his guarded nature giving way to moments of unguarded affection—only made you fall for him even more.

Barbara Gordon aka. Oracle / Batgirl

- Barbara’s face lit up the moment she saw Mr. Pickles. “Oh my gosh, he’s adorable!” she exclaimed, crouching down to let the dog sniff her hand before scratching behind his ears. Mr. Pickles responded with an enthusiastic bark and an attempt to climb into her lap. “Looks like I’ve got a new best friend,” she teased, winking at you.

- Barbara was a natural with Mr. Pickles, effortlessly balancing playfulness and care. She’d create little games to keep him entertained, laughing as the dog chased after a toy or tried (and failed) to catch his own tail. “He’s like a tiny tornado,” she said one evening, watching as Mr. Pickles zoomed around the living room.

- Her warmth extended to both you and Mr. Pickles in equal measure. Barbara loved how much joy the dog brought into your life and always made sure to include him in your plans. Whether it was finding dog-friendly cafes or suggesting walks in the park, she embraced Mr. Pickles as part of your relationship.

- Barbara’s tech-savvy nature even came into play. She designed a custom GPS tracker for Mr. Pickles' collar, “just in case,” she said with a smile. You couldn’t help but marvel at how thoughtful she was, always going the extra mile to ensure the dog’s safety and your peace of mind.

- On quiet evenings, Barbara loved curling up with you and Mr. Pickles on the couch, a warm blanket draped over the three of you. “This,” she’d say, her voice soft as she rested her head against your shoulder, “is my favorite kind of night.” And with Mr. Pickles snuggled between you, his little snores filling the room, you couldn’t have agreed more.

Stephanie Brown aka. Spoiler

- Stephanie instantly fell head over heels for Mr. Pickles. The moment you introduced them, she squealed, scooped up the tiny fluff ball, and spun around the room with him in her arms. “This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen! How did I not know about him sooner?” she gushed, her bright energy matching your dog’s boundless enthusiasm. From that moment on, Stephanie declared herself Mr. Pickles’ honorary co-parent.

- She treated Mr. Pickles like he was her little sidekick, even going so far as to create a tiny “Spoiler” mask for him out of purple felt. “He’s ready for action now,” she announced proudly, setting him down to watch him stumble adorably over the mask that partially blocked his vision. “Okay, maybe not crime-fighting material, but he’s got the spirit!”

- Stephanie loved to narrate Mr. Pickles’ every move, often giving him a dramatic inner monologue as he wandered aimlessly around the house or barked at nothing in particular. “Oh no, the vacuum is attacking again! Must defend my humans at all costs!” she’d say, mock-seriously, while you laughed at her antics. Her playful approach brought endless joy to both you and your not-so-bright dog.

- Her bond with Mr. Pickles only deepened because of how much he loved you. Stephanie often teased you about how Mr. Pickles followed you around like a little shadow, but she found it endearing. “I don’t blame him; you’re pretty lovable,” she’d say with a wink, curling up next to you and pulling Mr. Pickles into her lap.

- On your lazy days together, you’d often find Stephanie lying on the floor, nose-to-nose with Mr. Pickles, whispering secrets only they seemed to understand. “He’s telling me he wants more treats,” she’d say, feigning innocence when you caught her slipping him an extra snack. Watching her interact so lovingly with your dog only made you love her more.

Cassandra Cain aka. Orphan

- Cassandra’s first interaction with Mr. Pickles was cautious but curious. She approached the tiny fluff ball with quiet grace, kneeling down and extending her hand for him to sniff. Mr. Pickles wagged his tail enthusiastically, and when he licked her fingers, a small smile crept onto her face. “He likes me,” she said softly, as if surprised by the dog’s instant affection.

- Cass quickly grew attached to Mr. Pickles in her own understated way. While she wasn’t as outwardly playful as others, she showed her affection through gentle gestures—carrying him when he got tired on walks, petting him in slow, deliberate strokes, and sitting cross-legged on the floor so he could curl up in her lap.

- She had a knack for understanding Mr. Pickles’ needs, almost as if she could read his body language. Whether it was realizing he wanted a belly rub or sensing he was anxious during a thunderstorm, Cass was always there to comfort him. “He’s brave,” she once said, cradling the trembling dog in her arms during a storm. “Like you.”

- Cassandra adored watching you interact with Mr. Pickles. She often sat quietly nearby, her dark eyes soft with affection as you played or cuddled with your dog. “You’re good with him,” she’d say, her voice filled with quiet admiration. Seeing your kindness with Mr. Pickles deepened her love for you in ways she couldn’t always put into words.

- On peaceful nights, the three of you would sit together in serene companionship. Mr. Pickles would curl up between you and Cass as she leaned against your shoulder. “He’s family,” she’d whisper, her fingers brushing against yours, and in those moments, you felt an unspoken bond between the three of you that words could never capture.

Duke Thomas aka. Signal

- Duke was instantly charmed by Mr. Pickles’ fluffy, carefree demeanor. “Okay, I wasn’t prepared for this level of cuteness,” he admitted, crouching down to pet the dog. Mr. Pickles responded by jumping on Duke and licking his face, earning a laugh that made your heart skip a beat. From then on, Duke was completely on board with having a small, slightly clueless dog as part of his life.

- Duke was a natural when it came to keeping Mr. Pickles entertained. He’d play fetch with boundless energy, chase the dog around the yard, and even teach him a few basic tricks—though Mr. Pickles’ limited intelligence made it a bit of a challenge. “He’s trying his best,” Duke would say with a grin as Mr. Pickles spun in circles instead of sitting.

- He often used his downtime to bond with both you and Mr. Pickles. Whether it was watching movies with the dog sprawled across his lap or taking long walks with the three of you together, Duke treasured those simple moments of connection. “This is nice,” he’d say, his arm around you while Mr. Pickles sniffed happily at every blade of grass in sight.

- Duke loved how happy Mr. Pickles made you. He’d often point out how your face lit up when your dog did something particularly silly, like chasing his tail or barking at a shadow. “He’s a reflection of you, you know,” Duke teased, nudging you playfully. “Adorable and a little ridiculous.”

- On quiet evenings, you’d often find Duke lying on the floor with Mr. Pickles curled up against his chest. He’d glance up at you with a warm smile and say, “I think he’s claimed me as his favorite.” You’d laugh, but deep down, you knew Duke had a special way of making everyone—dogs and humans alike—feel loved and safe.

Selina Kyle aka. Catwoman

- Selina’s first reaction to Mr. Pickles was a mix of amusement and mild disbelief. “You have a dog? And this is it?” she asked with a smirk, crouching down to inspect the fluffy little creature. Mr. Pickles barked excitedly and pawed at her, and to your surprise, Selina scooped him up with practiced ease. “Well, aren’t you a little charmer?”

- Selina’s bond with Mr. Pickles was as playful and mischievous as she was. She’d dangle toys just out of his reach, encouraging him to leap and spin in an attempt to catch them. “He’s got spirit,” she said with a grin, watching as the dog tumbled over himself in his excitement.

- Despite her teasing, Selina was fiercely protective of Mr. Pickles. She’d glare at anyone who so much as looked at him the wrong way during walks and once threatened a stray cat that hissed at him. “No one messes with what’s mine,” she declared, scooping Mr. Pickles into her arms and stroking his fur to calm him down.

- Selina loved to spoil both you and Mr. Pickles. She’d return from errands with fancy dog treats and designer accessories, joking that “even the fluffiest member of the family deserves to look good.” Seeing Mr. Pickles prance around in a tiny leather collar she’d picked out always brought a smile to her face.

- At night, Selina loved to lounge with you on the couch, Mr. Pickles nestled comfortably between you. “He’s got good taste,” she’d say with a sly grin, watching the dog drift off to sleep in your lap. “But then again, so do I.” And as she leaned in to kiss you, you couldn’t help but agree.

Kate Kane aka. Batwoman

- Kate was initially indifferent about Mr. Pickles, more focused on you than the small ball of fluff at your feet. “He’s…cute,” she said diplomatically, her sharp eyes softening slightly as Mr. Pickles sniffed at her boots. When the dog barked happily and wagged his tail, Kate let out a reluctant laugh. “Okay, maybe a little more than cute.”

- Her affection for Mr. Pickles grew quickly, though she’d never admit it outright. You’d catch her sneaking him treats when she thought you weren’t looking or giving him gentle pats while pretending not to care. “He’s your dog,” she’d insist, though the sight of him curled up at her side told a different story.

- Kate’s protective nature extended to Mr. Pickles in surprising ways. She’d insist on accompanying you to the vet, making sure his leash was secure during walks, and standing between him and any potential threats. “He’s small; someone’s gotta look out for him,” she said gruffly, though her soft smile betrayed her.

- With you, Kate loved to tease about how spoiled Mr. Pickles was. “You know he owns this house now, right?” she joked, watching as the dog sprawled across your bed without a care in the world. But her playful remarks were always accompanied by a warmth that made you feel like your little family was complete.

- On nights when the world felt too heavy, Kate would sit with you and Mr. Pickles in comfortable silence, her arm wrapped around you and her hand resting lightly on the dog’s fur. “This,” she’d say softly, her voice low and steady, “is what makes it all worth it.” And in those moments, you knew she meant every word.

[tornado1992]

So shiny and sparkly, so tiny and powerful, so pure and so dreadful.

shiny boy

[lay-z]

May I ask for a drabble where Soap and a fox hybrid self-insert went on a date in a forest where the fox hybrid got all dirty and then playfully tackled Johnny to the ground getting him all dirty, so they had to take a bath together? It could be fluff with a suggestive undertone or whatever else you wanna make it. I just think it'd be cute. Also, I'm obsessed with the cotton candy clouds fic, I absolutely love it! I can't wait to see what happens next!

This took a very fantastical/magical turn. The world consists of hybrids in this. Sorry this took me so long to write and I hope you’ll still enjoy it! 🤍✨️🦊🐺

Pairing: grey wolf hybrid!John MacTavish x red fox hybrid!fem!Reader

Warnings/Info: 18+, mdni | Hybrid AU | courting; fluff; friends to lovers; slightly suggestive; abrupt ending (sorry!:()

Spring sunshine tickles your nose, making it twitch and scrunch as you step out of the treeline into the valley; sniffing the soft breeze with your face turned south and your eyes fluttered shut in bliss.

The forest is lush and alive with local flora and fauna. Juvenile birds singing and chirping, looking to attract their soulmate, bumblebees seeking out blossoming wildflowers to gather their first honey, the flow of water rushing in a nearby creek.

Your ears swivel back as you pick up on a familiar presence—someone has been stalking you for a while now; trying, and failing, to sneak up on you from the edges of the woods. His musky scent stands out between the many sweet and earthy smells surrounding you, and adds a headiness to it that makes your plushy tail twitch and swish behind you with anticipation and excitement.

He wants to give chase, you know it, and it makes your survival instincts flare up despite knowing better—adrenaline building in your gut and buzzing through your veins to make you flee and avoid this imaginary danger. The corner of your mouth lifts into a sly smile as you continue your walk towards the creek like nothing is out of the ordinary, though the hairs on the back of your neck are raised as much as your tail is bristling.

It’s a game of willpower between you two and you know it’s only a matter of time until Johnny caves first to pounce on you—the vivid imaginary already enough to make your tail wag and your lips part in a giddy smile.

And it happens down by the creek, when the crystal-clear water sloshing around the rocky banks drowns out his heavy footsteps and your back is turned towards the forest—his massive frame casts a shadow before a pair of muscular arms wraps around you from behind and his warm breath puffs over your exposed neck in a way that has goosebumps pebble on your skin.

Johnny buries his nose into the curve of your shoulder, inhaling obscenely deep and exhaling with a baritone growl that vibrates against your back. “Gotcha,” he chuffs playfully and tightens his embrace around you, biceps flexing while his large hands splay over your soft tummy possessively while your tail can barely react, and merely twitches happily smushed between your bodies.

“Knew you were there,” you chirp, cupping his hands with your own as you melt against his strong body.

“Mhmmm,” he hums low in his throat. “Now wha’ do Ah do with m’bonnie prey?” His hands roam up your torso; groping the swell of your breasts teasingly before cupping and squeezing them. “Ye smell s’bloody good, petal,” he rumbles, nosing along the curve of your neck before nuzzling into your hair, “–could smell ye even against the wind.”

It really is spring—mating season.

Your ears flatten against your head with a needy whine; back arching as you grind your rear against his crotch, causing him to snarl against your neck, and your pulse throbs expectantly against his nose, taunting him to sink his teeth in and finally lay claim on this pretty, wee fox in his arms.

“If you can smell me, others can too, you know,” you remark casually, stoking the embers already simmering hotly between you two. Other potential suitors, you mean, and Johnny’s grip on your breasts tightens, fingertips digging into the supple fat and making you mewl while your sensitive nipples tighten and poke against his rough palms.

“Gotta make ye smell like me soon then, petal.”

[mimipolo]

Something fluffy or domestic with Nam-gyu?

Nam-gyu x reader fluff

Sorry for no upload of Nam-gyu content yesterday, I can only handle writing sm💔💔

Hope you like what I did and ALSO this is not editted so any dumb mistakes mb, ima edit it tmrw

It's cold, so cold. Your hands are buried deep into the feltiness of your jacket lining, desperate to keep your hands at least above freezing.

The sky is beautiful just tinting blue as the moon made its emergence, you appreciate the serene view as cold puffs of air left your lips and you snuggled your head deeper into your hoodie.

Entering your apartment complex and reaching your door after the unfortunately long flight of stairs you're mostly unsurprised to see a bored Nam-gyu loitering nearby. As you approach you call his name, his head perks up as he leans off your door with a grin on his face as he bites his cheeks.

"What are you doing here shouldn't you have work?" you say disapprovingly as you take in his warm attire.

"How cruel you don't wanna see me? I'm off today?"his voice is playfully mocking as he tilts his head towards you.

"I don't remember my apartment becoming your second home Nam."

"You say that but you gave me the keys."

"And where are they?"

He falls silent at your words, you clocked his bullshit and he knew it, he purses his lips and clicks his tongue, he's not about to argue against that. He's already grinning again when you open your apartment with a deflated sigh, happily tailing behind you. He hasn't lost your keys, he just likes to meet you by the door.

Immediately kicking off your shoes the two of you break into the usual routine, he's roaming your cupboards to make a simple snack for the two of you to eat and you make your way to your room to get changed and freshened up after work. You had never the thought it to be weird until you brought one of your friends round and said it was like the two of you were basically married. You had quickly laughed it off but he seemed to happily lean into the idea. He started to jokingly call you his [partner role] but you're not too sure it's a joke anymore knowing him.

You walk out in casual clothes, random enough to wear out the house but comfortable enough to unintentionally sleep in. Nam-gyu is already comfortable on the floor, knees pulled forward slightly as he clicked through potential movies for the night. His head is thrown back against the edge of the couch and the glow of the TV made his features stand out beautifully. You often found yourself admiring his face just because it just screamed meant to be painted, he said you were delusional when you told him. But it was hard not to believe especially with his hair slightly messed up from hiding under a beanie.

You take your appointed seat on the couch, your knees just centimetres from his head, you had asked him before why he always sits on the couch but he always claims it's just more comfortable. He's a floor guy. He's also the guy that leans his head against your leg halfway through the movie and says he's tired(clinical insomniac here).

It's well into the early morning now and you're still sat here on your couch, eventually you got tired of sitting in the same place for so long you decided it'd be more comfortable to lie on your side instead. Your hand is just within reach of his hair which you passively enjoyed threading your fingers through and further ruining it. He never minded though, in fact you'd flatter yourself and say he enjoyed it just as much. The peaceful ambience of your living room is disrupted when he randomly speaks up.

"Ya know I never thought I'd get this far..."

"Huh?" Naturally you're quite confused with this contextless statement.

"I mean this whole non permanent roomie thing we have, I never thought I'd get to have that."

"Why not?"

He sighs a bit as if you were clueless, turning his head slightly so he could face you, a small smile on his face as he gazes up at you, a longing in his eyes you never noticed till now making your own heart sputter. Gently, he takes the wrist of your hand in his hair and holds it to his face, his jaw fitting into the curve of your palm. His fingers are cold but his face is flaring with warmth, causing your own fingers to heat up. You wonder if it's because he's blushing and you wish you could see.

He indulges himself for a moment, savouring the fact you didn't pull away before speaking again, it looked like he wanted to say something else but quickly corrected himself.

"I like being with you, so it's just... weird you don't mind having me around." There's a melancholy sweetness to his words which doesn't sit right in your stomach. What's he trying to say?

"Why would I? You're always on my side."

"Yeah...not all people work like that, but since you're weird you do."

You scoff at his words, gaining a small chuckle for him as he turns around towards you fully, the movie playing now just filler in the background as you try to dissect what he's hiding from you now.

He's still holding your hand to his face, absentmindedly running his thumb over the back of your hand as his gaze rested on your silhouette. He looks deep in thought, not uncommon for Nam-gyu but he'd never held your hand so tenderly as he did so, this isn't just friendship anymore is it?

"Ya know... I think I like being with you."

You're about to roll your eyes that was such a "the sky is blue" sort of take. You both knew how much he cared for you, what you didn't know is that somehow he was able to exceed that limit. But he makes it pretty clear when he presses his lips to your palm so delicately it felt ghostly. Despite that it didn't don't fail to spike your heartrrate. This time when his eyes focus on you they have that slightly teasing look resting behind them, the one you recognised the most.

"I really like being with you [Name]..."

Oh? Oooooh. Now that's something that won't fly over your head, if the countless casual one on one friendly hangouts were anything to go by. He's smirking slightly as he watches your expression change to a more embarrassed one the longer the meaning of his words settle in.

He liked you.

And you'd be a liar if you hadn't said to yourself you'd eventually have to make a move on him, he was the only one in your life to prioritize everything about you before considering himself, despite how selfish he liked to act. So with that you're leaning slightly off the couch, your hand leaving his cheek to tilt his head to meet yours. You stiffle a chuckle when he rushes to his knees. Letting you pull him in as you place a chaste kiss to his lips. You both laugh quietly when he chases that short contact to steal a firmer kiss, his hand resting on your shoulder, lighting up goosebumps on the cold skin.

"I like you too I guess."

"I guess??"

"I've got to keep you humble."

Now it's his turn to scoff as you laugh, your touch is thoughtful as you tuck his outgrown hair behind his ears telling him silently you were only teasing. You smile as he visibly relaxes, now insisting you should start living together already. This guy...give him an inch and he takes a mile, but it's something you've come to like about him, maybe even love.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

Princess | Limits [Final]

There's only so much he can take.

Tags/Warnings: Wolfdog Hybrid!Jungkook, Showdog Hybrid!Reader, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Fluff?, Brat!Reader, Jungkook has major brat tamer energy, misunderstanding, smut, (slightly) mean Dom kook, a slap to the thigh, uh, knot is mentioned, it's nasty, unprotected but MC is mentioned to be on birth control, he holds her by the throat? Idk he also has his fingers in her mouth-

Length: 5k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

A/N: This will act as a final chapter. The main story is therefore wrapped up- but as always, if you want drabbles, you can still request them.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook has never understood the phrase of your ‘heart stopping’- because how could it ever? You’d be dead in that case. But right in this moment, he finally gains the knowledge by experiencing it first hand- eyes wide open and body frozen.

Why are you in his bed? Barely dressed, snuggled up to him who’s only in his underwear?

He thinks through the whole process of yesterday to make sense of this. Did you both get potentially drunk last night? No, not at all. You and him had simply packed your things to drive you to your parents hours away, after having contacted them and told them about everything. He remembers driving you there himself, unloading your bags, leaving you there after waving and driving off. And added to that, that was not last night. It was almost an entire week ago.

He hasn’t seen you in days. So what are you doing here?

It’s not a dream either, clock on his nightstand ticking away, world outside going about its day as the window isn’t all closed to let some fresh air in at night. And yet, you’re there- bare legs entangled with his, arms holding onto his.

He doesn’t really feel alarmed by the fact that you somehow entered his apartment- you know where he lives after all, and you know the passcode to his door, so it’s not really surprising at all. But what he is questioning is why you’re here- and why you’re in his bed, most of all. Has he forgotten some conversation you might’ve had? Or has something happened to make you so upset that you were craving the comfort of him at any cost?

Now he’s worried.

Shaking you a little to wake you up seems to not be very effective- because you just frown, slap his hand away and bury your face right back into his shoulder as if he’s nothing but an annoying fly. “I know you’re awake.” Jungkook tells you, and at that you actually open one of your eyes, looking up at him with your tail wagging beneath the covers. “What’re you doing here?” He asks, and you frown again turning onto your back to look up at him who’s sat up by now.

“Why do you sound so upset about that?” You complain with almost a pout in your tone, arms crossed. “I thought couples love reuniting.” You say, and he looks at you, confused.

“Couples?” He questions, and you nod, now visibly unsure as well.

“Well, yeah?” You say, attitude fading and being replaced by uncertainty. “I mean.. we haven’t said the L-word yet, but like.. I thought..” you start, scanning his face for any sign that he realizes what you believed you two were. “..since you uh.. called me baby in the car..” you drift off, and still- there’s no sign of anything on Jungkook’s face as he thinks, and digs around in his memories for the correct moment he might’ve said that. He did, maybe. But he doesn’t remember.

“did I?” He asks, and regrets it the moment he watches the shame visibly wash over you- from the way your ears pin back to the slight change in your gaze, he knows he fucked up by saying it loud- and he’s a little too late as you roll out the bed and run for the bathroom after picking something up from the floor, hiding away now. “hey- wait.” He asks, getting up to walk towards the bathroom floor, knocking on it just to not get an answer. “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding-“ He starts, trying hard to calm you down- but it’s clearly not working as the door opens, and you slip right past him to run towards the door where your shoes are. “Hey no- stay, let’s talk-“

“Nuh-uh, nop, this is so embarrassing-“ You rant, visibly frustrated over the shoes not closing fast enough as your hands are too shaky to really tie them. So you just make a simple knot and stuff the laces into the corners, before a tattooed hand snatches your other shoe from you. “give that back!” You bark, not looking at him however as you reach for the shoe he’s holding too high for you. “stop-“

“stop, exactly. Don’t run off now, I’m sorry if I said something that made you think we were more than we are.” He explains, and you visibly deflate at that, ears down low just like your tail. “let me get dressed, and we can talk, okay?” He asks again, and you just shrug.

He sighs as he puts down the shoe and leaves to tug a shirt and pants onto himself- before he realizes his mistake too late-

Door already slamming shut, your jacket the only thing you left at his place.

Fuck.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

He’s been knocking since forever it feels like- but even at his third visit today, you refuse to open the door.

You still got a week left in your apartment- but he knows from first hand experience that you got almost no furniture at all in there anymore, so this can’t be an option for you to sleep at. He doesn’t want you to be upset at him- and in hindsight, he really could’ve worded things a bit better, but he’s still new to this as much as you are. “please let me in.” He requests once more as he’s done so often today, sighing. “I missed you too, you know?” He tries this time around, and to be honest, that’s not even a lie.

Its odd how at first glance, he never thought he’d ever get along with you. But having you gone for almost an entire week, he really felt the way you’d somehow snuck into his heart- every task back to being mundane without you causing a little chaos in his daily life here and there.

“That’s a lie.” You say, door open just a crack to glare at him through.

“Its not.” He denies. “I just think we never actually talked about what we want to be- so I was surprised to just.. have you turn up out of nowhere in my bed.” He chuckles a little, and you just look down to the floor in shame.

“M’ sorry.” You apologize. “won’t happen again.”

“What if I want it to happen again?”

Your gaze snaps up at him at that, confused. “I was just a bit caught off guard, and honestly worried. Did something happen at your parent’s?” He wonders, and you sigh, opening the door to let him into the almost entirely unfurnished apartment- a pile of clothes and a blanket being the last items that were probably used as a makeshift resting spot for you today laying in the corner of the main living room. You sit down there, before letting yourself fall to the side as if exhausted, before you shrug, Jungkook sitting on the floor across from you. “it was.. I don’t know.” You admit. “I love them. And I was really super happy to see them again, and spend time there..” you explain, before you pull the blanket between your fingers to have something to hold onto while you stare into nothingness. “But it was.. really a lot.. I don’t know how to explain.”

“I guess that’s normal. You know, being overwhelmed with it.” Jungkook sympathizes. “I’m exhausted too after spending a day or two with my entire family-pack. Nothing to worry about.” He explains, and you just nod, still avoiding eye contact. “I think what’s important now then, is what we are to one another. You can’t just break into my apartment and sneak into my bed without formally asking me out, you know?” He jokes, but your glare is filled with embarrassment.

“Now I don’t want to anymore.” You huff, before you turn around- and at that, Jungkook feels an odd rush underneath his skull, fueled by your subtle and underlying confession in your words.

“You love me though, don’t you?” He asks, leaning in closer as he sits near you now, a hand on your shoulder. “all you need to do is say it.” He chuckles, as you curl up more into yourself as if that would hide you.

“And then what?” You huff. “You’ll-“

“I’ll say it back.” He cuts you off. “or I’ll say it first, it’s no issue. At this point it’s pretty obvious that I’m starting to fall in love with you.” He easily spills, and you freeze before you slowly unravel, turning to look at him over your shoulder with a face full of wonder.

“You are?” You ask hesitantly, and he smiles, before he nods.

“I am.” He responds, confirms his words and you sit up at that, facing him now. “are you?” He wonders, and you nod.

“I am.” You answer, and he laughs.

“See? Nothing to be scared of. Now come on, I’m not letting you sleep here.” He says, standing up with you to pick up your stuff-

Unaware of the absolute Rollercoaster he just signed himself up for.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook did not know what he got into when basically confessing his growing feelings.

His mundane life is pretty much over at this point, with you always around and currently basically having moved in until you can figure out if this works or not. After all, you’re not used to living with someone else- and it’s clear that no matter what, you’re the opposite of an angel, still trying your tricks on him to make him dance around like you want him to.

But Jungkook isn’t this easy to control. And in a way, it’s a little fun to see how much you can get away with.

“Jesus christ, put some clothes on.!” Jungkook curses as be spots you laying on your stomach on his couch, in nothing but a simple top and underwear, tail wagging. The wolf hybrid has to turn away, distract himself with the task of turning the volume of the TV lower, while you just don’t understand what his fussing is all about, game on your little console in your hands on pause.

“Why?” You ask because of that, not sure why he’s being so overly dramatic in your opinion. It’s just your legs, maybe your butt. So?

“because- just put at least some pants on.”, he groans, and you roll your eyes, before you continue your game instead.

You’re not listening. And he’s not sure if it’s your character- or if you think his decreasing patience is funny to watch.

“Do I have to turn the wifi off to get your full attention?” jungkook asks a little irritated, and you shrug.

“Don’t care.” You respond, eyes on the little screen between your hands. “the game doesn’t need internet.”

Suddenly however, the console is taken out of your hands, as he saves your current progress, and puts it into the charging station near the TV. “Hey!” You complain, getting up now to rush towards him- and as he makes sure you can’t get to your precious game again, he notices that God fucking damn it, you’re not wearing a bra beneath this very flimsy shirt.

You’re really testing him.

“Put pants on.” He says, and you have the audacity to laugh.

“Nah.” You deny, stretching before you step away from him, walking towards the bedroom. “I’ll just take a na-“ you don’t get to say much else, as he suddenly tugs on your tail with just enough force to make it count- but nowhere near enough to hurt. “Hey!” You turn around instantly, just to be basically cornered by the wolf hybrid, who’s backing you into a wall in the living room.

“You’ve got a real smart mouth there.” He simply says, but it sounds like a threat almost-, a very specific kind of threat that makes your skin shiver. “But you tend to forget when to shut it, clearly.” He scoffs, as your back hits the wall, making you swallow your own saliva nervously.

But he can sense, smell, that this is affecting you not in the direction of fear- but something else entirely.

“You’re so lucky, you know?” He asks, somewhat- and you look at him with question. “I’m not usually patient like that.”

“What would you have done?” You ask, unable to really keep it in as you know that if you hesitate for just a second, you’ll never be able to say this out loud, ask for such things. You want them, but you’re also nervous, considering you’ve never actually gotten this far with anyone before. “Put me in timeout?” You almost challenge, tail beginning to sway a little with newfound confidence, when he just shrugs it off, and shakes his head.

“No.” He denies. “Brats like you need something that.. Lasts longer.” He words out, and at that, scenes manifest inside your head that make you visibly shy.

You’re not sure if he realized it yet, but a lot of the things you do, you do on full purpose. You like this game of push and pull, you think its exciting and fun- so you hope that with words like that, he means them as such, because that would mean that he’s both aware of the little game you’re playing, and also a willing participant in it.

You don’t want him to just feel like you’re made of porcelain, possibly breaking at the slightest touch.

“Such as?” You ask, and he leans in closer at that, almost unbearably so.

“fuck around and find out, Princess.”

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Turns out you can be sickeningly sweet almost when you really want to- currently happily laying on his stomach after helping him cook and wash the dishes after, awfully nice today and in a good mood.

It makes him wonder. Are you up to something? Or are you simply not who he thought you were? It would be just a slight bit disappointing, if he was to be honest- considering he’d actually grown quite fond of the idea of you with your ass spanked bright red, Jungkook basically having to work for your submission. But maybe you’re just all bark and no bite- just yapping around, nothing more than that.

Even that would be fine at this point, as long as he’s got you.

It’s when the male lead kisses the female love interest in the admittedly boring drama you both watch on TV, than he notices you staring at the scene. He’s notice too that at this point in time, one might think you would’ve kissed by now- but that’s not the case, neither of you seemingly brave enough to make that step towards the other. But it’s clear from the way you look at the scene in front of you with a shy sense of longing, that you want it- he just needs to find the perfect moment for it.

After all, he doesn’t just want to be any partner for you. He wants to be the one and only.

“I’m tired.” You yawn and stretch, arms above your head before you look at him. “can I get a goodnight-kiss?” You boldly ask, and Jungkook laughs, before he moves to basically lean over you entirely, hands pressing into the cushioning of the couch below you.

And then he finally leans in to peck your lips- or at least that was his intention. You chase after his lips and even move your hands to pull him back, making him act on instinct as he pushes them back, pins them down with his fingers around your wrists. But he has to admit, either the lip balm you’re using is sweet as honey, or he’s surely found the perfect person to kiss in you-

Because he doesn’t want to stop either.

“You said you’re tired.” He hums in when you break apart for just a second, and you shake your head.

“not anymore.” You deny his claims, making him chuckle.

“Not anymore?” He repeats, teasingly escaping your advances. You shake your head, as your legs move to rest around his waist, signals sent pretty clear to him as he watches you try and seduce him. “You’re right.. You’re clearly not yet tired.” He mumbles, as he leans down to kiss you again, letting himself be swept away by the moment, as you both just enjoy each other’s presence.

“Jungkook..” you whine impatiently, hips squirming around in search of any form of friction, while he just laughs under his breath.

“What do you want?” He asks. “this is our first time, after all. I don’t know what you like- or what you can handle.” He teases- though it’s clear that there’s an underlying truth to his words. This is indeed clearly going in a very obvious direction, and you feel warm inside knowing that he actually cares this much about your experience during this.

“I don’t know..” you admit. “I just.. always do it myself, so I don’t know.” You tell him, and he nods, accepting that as his kisses move to your neck, where he makes sure to leave his marks.

Because he wants you to be his, and his alone.

“how far do you want to go?” He asks, pausing his advances for a moment to look at you.

“All the way.” You tell him, and he nods.

“You sure?” He questions, and again, you nod- this time visibly serious.

“There’s no one I’d rather be with like that than you.” You say, and he soaks those words up like a sponge, before he leans back down to kiss you- softer now, more gentle, as if he’s savoring you and your open appreciation for him in this moment.

And he does. He really does.

And you know, through the softness of his touch and the slow and gentle manner in which he undresses you, that tonight, he’s going easy on you.

Tonight, he’s just going to show you real love.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Something clicked into place last night.

As if he’s finally committed himself to you, he’s relaxed, comfortable and most of all; confident. And you’re strangely excited about this new side of him, because it’s unbelievably entertaining to play around with him now that he’s not holding himself back any longer.

Youre currently all laughing, some friend’s of Jungkook’s having spotted him at the grocery store with you, eager to get to know the girl who made him catch feelings. And you’re having a lot of fun hearing some embarrassing facts about your now boyfriend- who’s also laughing along, despite being the butt of the joke. Even when you make jokes about him too he doesn’t seem bothered-

Until a hand finds the back of your neck, fingers pressing down a little to make sure you know he’s got a good grip on you. And like a cat grabbed by its weak spot, you freeze, one look at him making you almost cower in public as his dark eyes gaze down at you. “yeah- but I think we’ll better head home now.” Jungkook decides to his friends, casually smiling while he says goodbye to his friends. And even when his hand leaves you, you’re strangely affected- waiting for something to happen, as he calmly brings the groceries to the car.

You must’ve gotten away this time, since he seems pretty relaxed on the way back home. Good thing you were in public.

However, once back inside your now shared four walls, things take a turn again when, instead of helping him unpack the groceries, you lounge on his sofa- TV instantly turned on as you watch, and Jungkook makes sure to put everything where it belongs by himself.

Your punishment follows late- but you know when it’s time.

The TV is wordlessly turned off, but you stop mid-breath trying to complain about it, because the smile he sends you is none of pure kindness. He looks almost like a villain ready to move on with his sinister plans, as he approaches you. “You think it’s funny, don’t you?” He asks, and when you don’t reply, he clarifies further. “you love getting on my nerves.” He states, and you have the audacity to shrug.

“What’re you gonna do about it?”

That was definitely your last mistake made- challenging him, well aware of how he will potentially punish you.

He’s quick to grab at your hips, no matter how fast you’d wanted to dash off. His grip is tight and secure as he carries you unto the bedroom, where he closes the door with his foot, putting you down on the big mattress. And there you sit- waiting, not sure what his silence means.

“Early bedtime, huh?” You scoff, trying to appear unimpressed.

“Its what you make of it.” He however answers. “this is your last chance to get on my good side, Princess.”

“or what?” You ask with an attitude, still not believing in hit bite at all.

Jungkook sits down at that, back against the door, eyes reflecting a little in the darkness of the bedroom. He’s a wolf, deep down, even if he’s mixed- he’s got time, and patience, and he knows it. He’s well aware that after yesterday’s endeavors, you’ve been trying to ‘seduce’ him all day long- wanting more, wanting it again, because as you’d told him last night, you ‘can’t do it the same he does’. It’s normal, as a hybrid-

And as someone like you in particular, who craves everything pleasurable in life.

You’re still sitting there, waiting, adjusting your position a bit, squirming under his watchful eyes. You’re not sure what he’s aiming at here, but it makes you a little uncomfortable-

Mostly because you can feel the way your underwear is soaking up your arousal over this entire situation.

“Go to sleep, baby.” He tells you with fake gentleness in his voice. “it’s late, isn’t it?”

“I don’t want to sleep.” You respond, and he chuckles.

“I know.” He tells you.

“Jungkook..” you whine, hoping this will be enough to break him. “I’m sorry..” you admit, ears drooping low, as you look at your lap in shame.

But he’s not fooled.

“try again, princess.” He simply says. “I know you’re not sorry.”

Fuck. What else could you do to get him to crack?

Manipulating him into doing what you wanted him to has worked in the past, so it shouldn’t be this hard. And he’s already seen you naked yesterday, so you don’t have to have shame about what you do next- moving your legs to give him a bit of a teaser to your soiled underwear beneath your skirt, feet digging into the bed below as you try and get under his skin this way.

“…can you help me?” You wonder, noticing how his eyes were captured by the sight for just a second.

“I can.” He nods, getting up to walk over to you- and your tail wags, triumph yours to claim. It’s still so easy to make him dance around like a puppet on strings, because down the line, he’s just another guy who’s quickly caught up in his own lust-

His face is inches from yours, eyes piercing into yours as he still got that wolfish smirk on his lips.

“But I don’t want to.”

Wait- that’s not part of the script.

“do it yourself, puppy.” He laughs, opening the bedroom door. “You know how to-“

“No!” You call out, making him turn his head over his shoulder to look at you. “I want you!” You argue, making him laugh.

“too bad.” He denies, and at that you get up, one leg out of the bed already. “get back on the bed.” He demands, and you huff.

“so you really putting me in timeout?” You scoff, stepping out with the other leg as well.

“You want to act like a brat so I’ll treat you as such.” He explains. “get back on the bed until I’m done cooking.”

“No.” You deny, walking closer.

He says your name, low and clearly in a warning, but you don’t care.

It’s then that your world turns upside down for a second, before you’re thrown back onto the bouncing mattress. You can’t help the sound that escapes your lips at his display of strength over you, a hand still on your arm to push you down. “does pissing me off make you that horny?” He asks, almost in a demeaning tone. “gushing into your panties just because you’re getting on my nerves, huh?” He continues, and your tail still wags.

“Its funny.” You admit, giggling, when a hand slaps your inner thigh, skirt having risen up to cover basically nothing anymore. “ah-!” You call out in surprise, making him laugh.

“it is.” He agrees. “it’s funny how you think you can play me.”

The next second, he’s tugging your underwear off of you, strings of sticky arousal still trying to hold onto the soiled fabric for a good stretch before the piece of clothing is thrown somewhere. “gotta get you off to make you listen?” He asks, agitated, hand between your legs a complete contrast to the gentle way he’s helped you reach highest pleasure last night. “gotta fuck you stupid so you’re finally a good girl for once?” He questions, and you just nod, frantically, overwhelmed by the way he pushes two of his fingers in already, thumb rolling over your most sensitive spot.

“Please-“ you start, but he only laughs down at you.

“Please? That’s a new sound.” He mocks you. His ruthless acts down settle down at all however- instead, he takes his hand away from you, and wipes it on his pants. You’re left alone, watching him, unsure what’s happening. “You ready to listen?” He asks. What an asshole. He knows exactly that in your state you’d accept anything-

“Why did you stop?” You whine however, and your downfall has been sealed.

Only moments later, as you try and escape, he’s on top of you, using his entire body to cage you in, hand around your throat- though he’s gentle enough to not hurt you at all. The hold he has still arches your back, pushes your behind right into him. And considering the fact that you’re on birth control, he doesn’t need to search for any other contraceptive right now, able to just pull himself out of his cotton pants, not needing much to get himself ready.

You whine in complaint when he pushes in. He knows it’s a bluff.

“oh shut up.” He growls into the back of your neck. “You can take it.” He states, well aware that you can. And it seems like finally, you’re quiet and compliant- if only after his fingers press down on your tongue, occupying your mouth with something other than whining. “so this is what it needs to shut you up?” He mocks you. “my cock inside, and my fingers in your mouth?” He purrs against your neck, and you just whimper pathetically.

His pace is steady, but he doesn’t even need to move anymore he notices- you’re for once doing all the work for him, bouncing on his lap like you’ve done this a million times already.

Your stamina does however not match up with his, as your thighs quiver, orgasm approaching you and causing you to lose tempo. Something he catches up on- taking over as he rolls his hips into you with dancer’s precision, while you emit sounds of pleasure the second his digits leave your mouth. You fall forward once he lets go of you entirely, spent.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He however days, as he manhandles you onto your back beneath him, hands tugging on your legs to move them exactly where he wants them. “wants to be fucked stupid but can’t even keep up with me.” He teases, shaking his head as he pushes his length through your thighs, remnants of your own arousal making the movement easy and slick. Your hands reach out sleepily, fingers touching the very tip every time it appears between your legs, and you giggle, visibly out of your mind.

But he notices something else too.

You look entirely relaxed, not even a glimmer of any of your usual insecurities present. You’re just existing in the moment, enjoying this, enjoying what he offers you, and nothing else.

Your head must really just be TV static.

You open your legs again, whining once more as he watches you reach for his hips- one orgasm not enough still, or maybe you just want to please him the best you can. He’s going easy on you this time, he decides, complying with your wordless demand to get back inside you, a wish he happily grants.

You don’t hold back, only shutting up when he leans down to kiss you, needy and chaotic, tongue and bitten lips. But once his hand is between you both, pushing you over the edge alongside him, you squirm once more- his release spilling inside of you, something swelling that you didn’t feel yesterday.

It’s him. He’s locking himself inside you to make sure you don’t spill any of it.

Which isn’t all that easy, since he appears to be a but of an overachiever- some of it already escaping you the second he softens up, cunt pushing out the translucent white as he pulls out of you.

You’re a mess.

Clothes somewhat still on, skin sweaty, opening between hour legs still gaping, clenching around nothing as your body calms down.

But, to be fair-

You also, finally, shut your mouth.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

“You can be so gentle!” You complain as he helps you put lotion on your skin after your shower, already back to your old self not even a couple of hours after.

“I can.” He laughs.

“But something tells me that you like it rough.”

Oh-

How right he is.