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cutehoons02 · 1 month ago

Text

Make be mine

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

*trope: Roomates to hates to lovers

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

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

(English is not my native language)

12.2k (🦌)

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

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

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

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

So he’d dealt with it. More or less.

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

But he hadn’t expected you.

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

And then—bam. You bumped right into him.

The contact. Your scent. Your warm skin.

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

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

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

“Oh. Sorry. I... I didn’t see you.”

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

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

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

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

“Want a photo?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“White lie. For a good cause.”

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

“Go on. Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It had only been two days.

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

Too bold, too loud, too unpredictable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, have you seen my—”

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

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

His ears? Total alert mode.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung froze.

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

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

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

Half an hour later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Flashback.

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

It was you.

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

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

He shot you a glare.

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

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

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

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

Heeseung froze.

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

Why is my tail trembling?

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

Back to now.

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

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

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

“You know it?”

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

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

“No thanks. I prefer sports anatomy textbooks.”

You laughed.

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

He stared at you.

“Did you just say… baby deer?”

“Does it offend you?”

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

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

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

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

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

Hee frowned.

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

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

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

“Want me to read you a part?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Want me to tie you up, Hee?”

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

“WHAT?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want to be tied up?”

“Only if you do it.”

His hands settled on your waist.

“You’re… soft,” he whispered.

“Wanna touch more?”

“…Yeah.”

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

“You smell like peaches. And… danger.”

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

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

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

It had been almost two months since classes started.

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

Two beds. One fate.

The second bed had arrived after a week.

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

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

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

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

And yet… he slept.

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

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

Of course, mornings came with consequences.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shiny black boots. Hair long. Perfect.

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

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

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

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

“Well? Do I look good?”

Hee blinked. Mumbled something.

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

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

You laughed — delightfully bold.

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

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

“With whom?”

His voice was flat. Too flat.

“A guy from the swim team.”

Heeseung scoffed and turned back to his book.

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

A pause. Then: “Have fun.”

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

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

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

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

Heeseung was still awake.

He was “studying,” at least on paper.

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

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

Cherry. And amber. Damn it.

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

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

A little.

Faked it.

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

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

He bit his cheek. Hard enough to taste blood.

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

Sweet. Intoxicating.

You.

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

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

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

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

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

He didn’t answer.

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

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

You stared back. One brow raised.

Arms crossed, standing just inches from him.

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

Jake and Jungwon chuckled through the headphones.

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

He leaned in a little.

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

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

“Excuse me? Want to say that again?”

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

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

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

Heeseung turned fully toward you, eyes glistening. Dark.

“Did he touch you?”

Your eyes widened. Disbelief.

“Sorry, what?”

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

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

“Go change. Now.”

“…Excuse me?”

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

For the first time, you felt small.

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

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

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

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

With words.

Without even realizing it.

Or maybe, finally… on purpose.

He had won.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You turned to face him, eyes wide and gleaming.

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

He clenched his jaw.

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

“I… still feel everything.”

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

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

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

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

Your hands slid under the hem of his hoodie.

“Then stop me.”

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

Then give in.

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

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

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

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

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

You looked at him. Still breathless. Hands trembling.

“Heeseung…”

“Don’t sleep with me tonight.”

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

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

Heart pounding.

Wearing his shirt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For a hybrid, it can be.”

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

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

“And if it happens with a human?”

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

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

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

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

“Never. Go all in. No mercy.”

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

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

Your legs involuntarily stuck together.

“You and Hoon…?”

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

You touched your lips, both uneasy and fascinated.

“Does it hurt?”

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

“And them?”

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

“Wow.”

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

“So if he knots me… I’m his.”

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

Then she smiled again.

“Anyway… practical advice.”

“Tell me everything.”

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

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

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

“Holy hell…” you sighed.

She laughed, then grabbed your hand.

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

You stayed quiet for a moment.

Then whispered:

“I think I want it. But… I’m scared.”

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

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

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

“Hey,” you said softly.

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

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

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

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

Not too loud, but loaded.

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

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

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

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

Then he turned and came to you.

He threw himself onto your bed.

Yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

His skin was warm. Too warm.

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

“I’m scared.”

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

A heartbeat of silence.

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

Your eyes widened. “Of me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hee didn’t laugh. “It’s not funny.”

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

Hee growled softly but said nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He frowned. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want to go home too,” you replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hee...” you gasped. “Keep going...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that’s when Hee stopped holding back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then let me… lose myself in you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiled tiredly, eyes sweet but still burning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Enhypen hybird series!

taglist: @ourshin @7789995323567322 @tunafishyfishylike @kkamismom12 @stwrlightt @hearts4cheol @lovenha7 @in-somnias-world @heeseungxo @luvyeni @jayjw16enxp @jvngwni @jooniesbears-blog @gguk-n @cloudykim @enhaverse713586 @stormy1408 @jakesw82 @misssparklyprincess @bamguetismee @jaylajakey @arclviie @strxwbloody @steddie-steddie @jungwoosbaey @laurenmia65 @tasnemluvs @lovellydisaster @simj4k3 @numnommz @sspidermanss @vixialuvs @smlbch @xylatox @ikeulove @nishikio soulreaper05-blog

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

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checkeredflagggs · 9 months ago

Text

Three Hearts Left

Pairing: max verstappen x fem!gamer!reader

summary: fans (and friends) are shocked when they find max is married and to who

a/n: I’m only a casual gamer so take it with a grain of salt

a/n 2: sorry it’s a really late - the weather hates me personally (it is actually September and doesn’t need to be 85* 😡) and it drained my creativity also I got hella sick so 🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n 3: I know I use the name Twitter when talking about that site. I’ll stop deadnaming it when musk rat does too

a/n 4: still not feeling 100% but I wanted to get this out for max’s bday!!

catpawsgaming

Welcome to the CatTree with the paw prints 🐾 ! I’m just a cat 🐈 mom Lady™ who loves the gaming but not the camera 📷. I’ve been playing games all my life and have been streaming for 3 years — as a hobby, not a full time job. I love my 2 cats, my handsome man, and you 🫵 all my lovely fans. You most definitely make all this worthwhile so mwah mwah 💋💋 (video)

catpawsgaming

liked by user, user, user, and 6,583,455 others

catpawsgaming: here we go! Baldur’s Gate 3 has been highly highly requested — so I bought it! …yesterday and forgot about it cause curse of capitalism I still have my day job 😭 but away we go!

As always, if you didn’t manage to catch my livestream it’ll be on my page and I’ll be uploading it to my YouTube channel tomorrow! My YouTube will have the 3 usual versions (one unedited with my reactions, one with just the game play, and one with no sound at all but with closed captions)

Next stream date and game tbh announced but will probably be this Sunday with Animal Crossing (fingers crossed 🤞🤞 I finally get a good turnip price 😭😭 Daisy Mae hasn’t been kind to me lately…)

view all comments

user1: guuuurrrrrrrllll it’s about time you got bg3! We been waiting

↳ catpawsgaming: definitely worth the wait though! I had so much fun and it was so hard to stop for the night

↳ user2: for sure it was 🤣 your reactions to shadowheart and astarion were hilarious

↳ catpawsgaming: they clocked my type on point

user3: glad we convinced you to become a bard! You’ll rock it 💙

↳ catpawsgaming: ok but this the closest you will get me to actually performing so enjoy it while it lasts

↳ user3: not gonna sing along?

↳ catpawsgaming: 🤣🤣🤣 🫵 🤡

↳ catpawsgaming: absolutely not.

↳ catpawsgaming: also handsome just bust out laughing at the thought of me singing so…🙄🙄🙄 he’s lucky I love him

↳ handsome: I am very lucky liefje

↳ user3: ahhhh we were so close to her singing but also awwww cause handsome is here!!

handsome: liefje this was amazing

↳ catpawsgaming: thank you 🥰🥰

↳ catpawsgaming: but also you were laughing at me the entire night so…

↳ catpawsgaming: not sure how much I believe you

↳ handsome: well I didn’t say it was good…

↳ catpawsgaming: 🤨😒😔😢

↳ handsome: 🥰🥰🥰

user4: oh to have a man that will spend hours with you doing separate hobbies together…

↳ catpawsgaming: gotta admit it’s the dream

↳ handsome: you’re the dream liefje

↳ user4: ok there handsome, no need to get sappy here on MY comment thread

Private Messages

mv1updates

liked by user, user, user, and 2,833,736 others

mv1updates: Max was streaming today! Just a short one but highly entertaining. Jimmy (or Sassy? I’m honestly baffled and for the life of me can’t tell them apart 😢) caused a small disturbance in the middle of his stream then slept the rest away in Max’s lap 😍

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user5: that was sooooo adorable!! Love seeing more cat dad Max

↳ user6: same! And don’t feel bad admin - I can’t tell them apart either

user7: to be Jimmy…🥵

↳ user8: right? What I wouldn’t give to be sleeping away in his lap…

↳ user9: blessed be. His damn thighs man 😳

user10: ok but am I the only one that heard a female voice in the background?

↳ user11: I THOUGHT I WAS GOING INSANE?? Like there was definitely someone there

↳ user12: wait when?

↳ user10: when max turned the camera to show jimmy on top

Private Messages

catpawsgaming

liked by user, user, user, and 5,822,944 others

catpawsgaming: and Daisy Mae delivered this week! Sunday I got a price of 90 and today!! Selling price of turnips is 658 this evening!! Woohoo!

I've got my usual set up going to allow visitors to sell and I’ll be playing for about 4 or 5 hours so let’s make some cash today! I just ask you be respectful of my island.

My week is looking pretty busy (a lot of traveling happening) so my next stream will probably be sometime next week and I’ll be playing Horizon: Zero Dawn! Its sequel will be coming out soon and I want to replay the first to refamiliarize myself with the game!

view all comments

user13: yeessssss! I’ve been holding out that someone would have some fantastic selling prices this week! New house upgrade here I come!

↳ user14: oh don’t I know it! It’s been a downward slump all week for me — the high was 105 😭😭

↳ user13: ouch 🤕

user15: did anyone else hear the cat meowing in the background!

↳ user16: yes! Catpaws has got a couple of cats — they’re almost never on stream (they don’t like staying in one place for long) but catpaws got them right before they started streaming!

↳ catpawsgaming: 2 of them! They’re my babies! 🐈🐈

↳ user15: awwwww 😍😍

user17: can I say something? Is this a safe place?

↳ user18: it is not but say it anyway

↳ user17: it totally looks like she’s got a wedding ring on in the beginning of this stream

↳ user18: nurse! She’s out again

↳ user19: no no no let her cook. I totally thought the same. It was literally just a glimpse but I swear that she had a ring on

↳ user17: thank you! I knew I wasn’t crazy

↳ user19: but! That does mean our catpaws is married!!!!!

↳ user17: 😱

↳ user18: 😱

↳ user19: 😱

↳ catpawsgaming: 😉

↳ handsome: 💙

↳ user17: WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!?

catpawsupdates

liked by user, user, user, and 3,126,918 others

catpawsupdates: we’ve had a couple of requests lately asking about catpawsgaming and her cats! These are the first and last photo we’ve gotten — she’s incredibly secretive about them so we don’t know if this is the same cat in both photos or if she has 2 bengals (peep also handsome in the first photo. Catpaws was laughing when she posted that photo cause she’s usually the passenger princess)

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user20: I LOVE THEM

↳ user21: same! Insert that meme. “I’ve only had them for a day but if anything happened to them I kill everyone else then myself”

↳ user22: extreme but agreeable.

user23: that’s sassy - I’d bet money on it

↳ user24: sassy? What? Who?

↳ user23: sassy verstappen! F1 world champion max verstappen’s cat

↳ user24: ummm? This is a page for a small time gamer catpawsgaming

↳ user23: listen. Torture couldn’t get me to admit how long I’ve spent staring at pictures and videos of jimmy and sassy. But that is absolutely sassy!

↳ user17: I’m connecting the dots as I type

↳ user18: you’re not connecting shit

↳ user17: CONNECTING THE DOTS AS I TYPE

Private Messages

Bluesky

Private Messages

catpawsgaming

liked by user, user, user, and 3,712,222 others

catpawsgaming: tonight’s stream is gonna be a little late — I’m currently being held hostage by the cutest kidnapper ever

view all comments

user24: awwww

user25: your right. You simply can’t move!

↳ catpawsgaming: completely pinned down!

↳ user25: I don’t think anyone is gonna have a problem with your steam being late tonight

↳ user26: I’ve spoken to the council and we don’t! In fact we all vote for a stream of literally just the cat

↳ catpawsgaming:…you know that is an idea

↳ user26: omg. OMG. OH MY GOD!!

user23: THATS JIMMY!! I SWEAR ON MY LIFE

↳ user27: ok grandma. Let’s get you back to bed

handsome: so that’s where the little troublemaker is

↳ user28: omg hi handsome! Where’ve you been?

↳ catpawsgaming: ok I love all my fans but plz stop flirting with my man

↳ user28: can I flirt with you instead?

↳ catpawsgaming: 😳

↳ handsome: no

Private Messages

Bluesky

user29: ITS MAX VERSTAPPEN AND CATPAWSGAMING!!!! I TOLD YOU ALL

↳ user30: ok but are we really gonna take a gossip page as the truth?

user31: OH MY GOD THAT CRAZY FAN WAS RIGHT?!?

↳ catpawsgamingfan: I TOLD YOU. I TOLD YOOOOUUUUU

view all comments

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 8,345,765 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: liefje I know this is not how we wanted to share our love with the world but a light in the darkness is now I get to talk about how much I love you and how you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. These past 5 years have been a dream come true — and it’s been a dream I never knew I had. Seeing you that first time, you took my breath away. Forget the trophies and the victories, the world championships and titles I’ve won — becoming your husband has topped every single one of them. I can’t imagine my life without you anymore and I wouldn’t ever want to

comments have been restricted on this post

yourusername: oh my handsome man…you are the light of my life, the moon in my night, the stars in the sky, the best husband ever and the most loving cat dad I could have ever wanted to spend my life with. Thank you thank you thank you for picking me and staying with me and fighting for me and with me 💋💋

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jamiefartt · 10 months ago

Text

richmond's receptionist

part 2.

pairings: jamie tartt x reader, basically all of richmond is mentioned tho

summary: where you're the receptionist at richmond fc and you slowly but surely form a close bond with star striker jamie tartt

words: 6864

warnings: none just swearing and a little bit of rude jamie

—

day in and day out you watch the people of richmond fc enter and exit the home of their beloved football team. you spend your days behind the blue reception desk doing admin; sending emails, taking calls, and making sure everything is running smoothly. you've been the receptionist at Richmond for a little over three months, and you had no complaints so far. your favourite part of the day was watching Rebecca arrive to work. you always hear her heels before you see her, then she struts past your desk with a swift 'good morning' every day. not one day has gone by where she hasn't greeted you that way, and the acknowledgment lightens your mood each time.

as you're checking the company emails one morning, you hear Rebecca's footsteps approaching. you look up to smile at her, expecting the usual greeting, but instead she goes off-script.

"ah, good morning y/n. i'm not sure if you've seen the email but we are implementing a new daily register system. every morning, when our staff and players arrive, they must tick the box next to their name and note what time they arrive at. for visitors, they will have to sign their name on the bottom." you nod along attentively to her new instructions.

"okay, great! so, in the evenings, should everyone just do the same thing; tick the box, add the time?"

"you catch on fast. see, this is why I knew we needed a better receptionist," she smiles at you genuinely, adjusting her handbag on her arm before turning to walk to her office. "oh, and everyone should have received the email so I hope that saves you wasting time to explain this to everybody."

thanking her with a kind smile, you bid your goodbyes. you open your personal staff email, only to find an email from Higgins including a pdf of the sign in sheet. you take it upon yourself to print a week's worth, attaching them to a clipboard and placing it on top of the tall desk. you smile to yourself, looking forward to getting to know everyone's names and have more opportunities for small talk in the mornings.

the clock is nearing 8:30am, and you're already deep in your inbox forwarding and responding to emails. you've only had to explain the new system to a handful of staff, including Laughing Liam who, naturally, laughed at it. the players should be arriving soon, so you take the time to straighten your blouse and sit up straight in your chair. presumably, these men don't check their emails first thing in the morning, so you're expecting to have to repeat yourself a lot this morning.

"good morning y/n!" Colin chirps. he's the first of the team to arrive, as per usual.

"hey Colin! I thought I heard tires screech outside." you joke. "I'm not sure if you saw the email-"

"stop right there. i saw the email this morning." cutting you off, he picks up a Richmond pen before sliding the clipboard towards him and signing in. you chuckle to yourself and wave him goodbye.

soon after, the rest of the Richmond players flood into the building. some are in pairs, others in groups, and they even form a small queue as they wait their turn to sign in. Dani's excited by the new organisation plan, Roy grunts but still cracks a small smile, and Ted holds up the line talking to you whilst Beard signs both of them in. the only person to arrive alone, and last, is Jamie Tartt. he rolls right past you, not once looking up from his phone. you quickly call after him: "Uhm, Jamie!" you've never spoken to him, nevertheless called him by his first name.

his head lifts at the unexpected sound of your voice, and he looks around trying to find the source.

"sorry, Mr. Tartt. I didn't mean to shout... or call you Jamie," your voice goes quiet as he turns around to look at you, eyebrows raised in confusion. "what?" he replies, slowly walking towards the desk.

"basically, there's a bit of a new system here now. every morning and every evening you'll have to check in and out on this sheet. just tick the box next to your name and then add the time you arrive and leave." you explain with a smile, holding his questioning gaze the entire time.

"right, right, okay... what if, instead of me wasting me time clocking in and out, you just do it for me. you see me arrive, you sign me in. you see me leave, you sign me out. simple as." he states, and he sends you a quick wink before spinning around and heading straight for the locker room.

your mouth snaps open and shut a few times, surprised at his refusal to cooperate. you knew he had been a pain, despite his talent, but ever since he returned from manchester city he'd dropped his act a little. still, all you could do was watch his back, his bright orange jacket disappearing around the corner.

—

the sign-in system is easily integrated into richmond fc's daily routine, everyone dedicating those few minutes every day to tick the box and smile at you. some even taking the time to have a chat with you and soon enough, you know everyone's names.

while your typing up an email to Keeley about a new sponsor, someone walks up to your desk and drums his hands atop it. your eyes snap up and a smile takes over your face at the sight of Ted.

"hi Coach, how are you doing?"

"I'm doing great, y/n, thanks for asking! I would ask how you're doing but I'm here about someone else..." Ted's gaze narrows and your smile shrinks slightly.

"what's up?" you turn your chair to face him to show your full attention is on him.

"my pal Higgins has informed me that one of my players hasn't been signing in with you every day."

"yeah..." you trail off, "Jamie hasn't really been making the effort. I'm sorry if I should have been doing it for him I just wasn't sure if that would be... against safety regulations... or something?"

Ted raises his eyebrows at you, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "did he ask you to sign him in and out every day?"

"yes, he did. he said I should just watch out for him coming and going then write down the time."

"oh okay, I see. I will talk to him at lunch. Don't you worry, y/n."

as he walks away, you sigh in relief, worried you were getting in trouble for Jamie's slacking. you turn back to your computer, cracking your knuckles before getting back to your work.

later that day, as you log out of your computer and start packing up your stuff, the team pours out of the locker room. some sign themselves out, some sign themselves and their mates out. you make sure to keep your eyes peeled for anyone trying to avoid the responsibility, but the only person who strides past the group with no remorse is, once again, Jamie Tartt. your eyes meet Ted's who is looking at you with an apologetic look. you shrug in response, brushing it off. Jamie is his own person, you're not in charge of him.

the next morning, the day starts as usual; Rebecca is the first to arrive, followed by some members of staff, before the coaching team and players pour in from the car park. despite people greeting you and talking, you only half-respond. you're too busy looking over everyone's heads trying to spot the stubborn player you just haven't been able to crack.

"I've spoken to that prick. he can't keep fucking you over. let me know if he causes any problems." Roy grumbles, interrupting your focus.

"cheers, Roy," you smile at him warmly, wondering if his words will have had any effect on Jamie.

when the clock strikes 9, you sink back into your chair. the last of the staff have arrived for their day, and training is about to start – but still, no Jamie Tartt.

you grab the clip board and flick through the pages, making sure you didn't miss him signing in. still, on every page, the boxes next to his name are left blank. you sigh, shaking your head, unsure of how to tell Rebecca you got through to everyone expect for one measly player.

"y/n?"

"that's me," you say, before looking up from the list of names.

there's two coffee cups in front of you, both with the name Jamie scribbled on the sides in black marker. you lift your gaze, and funnily enough, Jamie is stood in front of you.

"listen yeah, I jus' wanted to say sorry for not doin' the whole... sign-in sheet shit. Roy had a proper go at me yesterday, so... I brought you coffee. hope this makes up for it." he can barely meet your eyes as he speaks, but ends his apology with a small smile.

"oh, wow, thank you. that's very kind, Jamie." you genuinely smile at him, hoping his might lift even a little bit more. instead, his eyes soften.

"I just got you a latte. I hope that's okay, I weren't sure what you liked and didn't have time to ask Keeley so,"

"that's perfect, Jamie, thank you so much. you really didn't have to do this."

"yes, I did, I think. it's not fair for you to be worrying about your job because of me."

thanking him again, you take one of the takeaway cups, taking a small sip of the warm coffee. Jamie nods at you as if to say goodbye, and you return the nod with a cheeky wink. you can't be sure, but you think you see Jamie's smile finally reach his eyes as he turns around.

the following morning, as you're talking to Isaac about becoming the new team captain, you're interrupted by none other than Jamie. your face lightens up at the sight of him, and you laugh as he pushes Isaac with his shoulder, making him leave the front desk.

"what's this for?" you ask as he sets another coffee cup down in front of you.

"I dunno... I was already getting meself coffee, so I thought I might as well get you another latte."

"you don't have to do that, Jamie. but if it means you come to the desk to sign in then I won't complain."

you can't seem to take your eyes off his hands as he picks up the pen Isaac had just used. his fingers seem to move slowly over the page, smoothing over everyone's names until he reached his. you admire the rings on his fingers, taking a special interest in the gold signet on his pinky as it supports the pen gliding along the form.

"do you like it?"

you blink a few times before snapping out of your daydream, looking up to see Jamie smirking down at you.

"hm?" you ask, gulping down the embarrassment of being caught in your daze.

"do you like my ring?"

"what? your pinky ring? uhm, sure, yeah. it's nice..."

"good save, love. it's me granddad's. he gave it me when I first went to play for Man City."

"it's beautiful..." you say, smiling before looking down at the ring again. you notice how delicately his hands move as he puts the pen down. you didn't expect such a machismo to have such nice hands but you can tell Jamie takes good care of himself.

he smiles, huffing out a small chuckle at your admiration. "see ya later, y/n." "

"bye, Jamie." you smile, taking the clipboard from him. you glance down at his name, spotting a small heart drawn beside it. it's uneven and a bit jagged, but the doodle still tugs at your heart strings.

from then on, every single morning, you are greeted by a latte and a chat from Jamie. every day, he lingers more and more as you talk to each other, and you always end up drinking half of your coffees before he pulls himself away from your desk. in the evenings, he's always one of the first to sign out. instead of saying goodbye, he simply winks at you. you hate to admit it but you start memorising what times Jamie arrives and leaves. as much as you love talking to him, and especially him winking at you every time he leaves, you love waiting for him. you love the nerves that build in your stomach as you watch the clock, and by the time he finally reaches you, you're already slightly blushing. when he turns to leave your desk, your eyes follow his figure and you let the blush take over your cheeks completely.

—

"hey, y/n, have you got a minute?" Isaac walks up to your desk.

"Isaac! of course!" you chirp, taking the last sip of your latte. Isaac reads the name written across the cup and raises his eyebrows knowingly.

"ah, speak of the devil,"

"what?" you turn the cup around, running your thumb across Jamie's name, "oh, yeah,"

"about Jamie... I really hate to involve you in actual football shit but he's been slacking a bit in training."

"oh, okay, would you like me to pass on the message to Rebecca?"

"no, no, it's just... he's been showing up late to training and then leaves early. during trainings, he's always... agreeing?" you raise your eyebrows at Isaac's words, "he never puts up a fight anymore, and we kind of need that Jamie Tartt for our big game this Saturday."

"I'm sorry, Isaac, but I'm not really sure what I can do about this. I really would love to help but there's not much I can do."

"I really hate to ask this from you, but," he takes a deep breath, a small smile appearing on his face, "I need you to piss him off a bit this week."

you laugh out loud, attempting to brush off his obvious joke by turning back to your computer.

"I'm not joking." his smile drops instantly, and your laugh falters before your face goes serious. "he likes you, so if you start acting cold towards him, it would really throw him off." Isaac's smile returns, and you giggle at his idea. trying not to read into his phrasing too much, you take a deep breath and nod.

"got it, Captain." you salute towards him. his eyebrows furrow as he curtly nods at you before turning around and jogging away.

what does he mean with Jamie liking you? a blush creeps up your face at the thought of him mentioning your name every time he's late, making up some excuse about the sign in taking too long. you start to brainstorm how you're going to turn the cold shoulder to Jamie this afternoon, feeling ever so slightly bad but trusting Isaac's judgement at the same time.

sure enough, Jamie is the first person out of training. you look up at him, and he smiles at you from the end of the hallway before jogging towards you.

"hi, y/n," his fingers drum on the desk, clearly excited to see you.

"if you'd just like to sign out for me there please, Jamie." you speak up, not looking up from your screen.

Jamie's immediately taken aback by your tone and from the corner of your eye you can see him pull his head back in confusion.

he chuckles awkwardly, attempting to diffuse the situation, "uhm, okay... what's the time, y/n?"

you don't respond, instead you point up at the clock on the wall behind you.

Jamie scoffs, quickly scribbling down the time and dropping the pen with a little bit of force. you don't react, as much as you wish you could just look up and meet his eyes.

"okay, bye then." he sighs deeply then heads towards the car park. as you see Isaac approach your desk, the rest of the team in tow, you hear an engine roar off into the distance.

"sounds like you've already pissed him off," Isaac says, "how did you manage that?"

"I just didn't look at him." you shrug nonchalantly.

"mhm, yeah he hates that. good job, bruv." he holds out his fist for you to bump. your knuckles meet his as you wink at him.

—

"hi, y/n, you alright, yeah?"

you hear Jamie place down a coffee cup. he whistles a little tune trying to get your attention, but when you still don't look up at him, he just picks up the pen and quickly signs in.

"listen, I'm not sure if you're just busy or what, but we play the Spurs tomorrow and I'd really like to see you there."

before you can even look up at him, Jamie turns around and leaves. you wait until he's a few feet away before looking up to take your coffee. you stare at his back, sighing to yourself. you understand the Captain's orders but it doesn't feel right ignoring Jamie. you would never tell him but your little routine has become your favourite part of your day at Richmond. you watch as his pinky signet ring catches the bright lights of the hallway and you take the opportunity to rake your eyes over Jamie's figure. his grey skinny jeans hug his legs perfectly, and his black jacket accentuates his broad shoulders. you lift your gaze to see his hair is gelled back neatly. you continue to stare at him, and as he's just about to turn the corner, he turns his head to take one last look at you. your eyes just about meet before you quickly snap your head down, pretending you weren't looking at him.

"y/n! I heard you fixed Jamie!" Keeley squeals as her and Roy walk up to the desk.

"I know, I hate it!" you reply, slumping your shoulders.

"don't worry, y/n. he'll be back to normal after tomorrow's game." Roy helps.

"sure but I don't want him to hate me."

"trust me; he doesn't fucking hate you." he adds, raising an eyebrow.

Keeley nods, "it's true. he's got a soft spot for you."

"he still invited me to the game." you shrug, hopeful that means he doesn't hate you.

"ah! brilliant! I'll talk to Rebecca, I'm gonna get you a seat with us. that way, you can watch the match without him even knowing you're there!" Keeley bounces excitedly on the balls of her feet.

"doesn't that defeat the point of me being there?"

"no babe, it's all about the teasing. he's gonna be fuming when he thinks you're not there, and then after the game you can surprise him! it'll work wonders, I swear."

you give her a questioning look, turning to Roy for a second opinion. he stays completely silent, simply giving you a single nod.

"if you think it'll work, let's do it." you hesitate slightly, but ultimately agree. you won't mind teasing Jamie a little bit. it's all he ever does.

your eyes drift to the picture of him plastered on the wall beside you. the cocky smirk on his face taunts you as you consider just texting him an apology.

"good morning! whatever you said to Jamie really worked, y/n. he never passes to me anymore!" a chipper Sam says to you as he signs himself in.

"is that a really a good thing?"

"it is for now. but please, after tomorrow, bring him back to normal. he's almost my friend and I want to keep it that way." he gives you a sad smile before bidding you goodbye.

throughout the day, you take calls and file more admin work. you talk to Higgins, Ted, and Keeley, filling them in on the plan for the Tottenham match tomorrow. it's a struggle to sit at your desk with Jamie constantly filling up his bottle from the water fountain in front of you. there's plenty of others for him to use, but he's clearly making the extra effort to see you in the hopes you'll talk to him. much to your dismay, you continue to ignore him. it's only been two days that you've been ignoring Jamie, but it's still hard avoiding the one thing that makes your day just that little bit better.

all packed up to go home, you wait for the last sign outs of the day. Rebecca's heels descend the stairs, and once again you hear her before you see her.

"y/n, I'm so sorry to keep you waiting."

"no worries. that's my job," you smile at her, moving to exit your desk. you step down from the raised platform, about to shrug your jacket on.

"ah- ah- ah, I'm afraid I'm not the last to go home." Rebecca interrupts your movement, pointing a finger down the hallway.

"oh, uh, who's left?" you ask her, already taking your jacket off again.

"I think there's someone in the gym. oh, and there's a package for you in the coach's office. don't forget to pick that up before you leave."

you shake your head, confused; "uhm, okay then. I'll see you tomorrow, Miss Welton." you smile at her politely, giving her a small nod.

"Rebecca." she assures you with a small which mirrors yours. as she turns to leave, you hold back a sigh and place your jacket and bag atop the desk. you iron down your shirt and fix the pleats on your trousers before venturing down the hallway.

you can hear small puffs and the whirring of a treadmill as you get closer to the coach's office. choosing to cut through the locker room, you look at the large empty space. you look over each name on the far side, reading them out loud quietly to yourself. moving towards Sam's locker, you smile at the photo of the Nigerian national team he keeps on his shelf. turning around, you read the names on the other side of the room. eyes landing on the locker at the end of the row, you finally let out the sigh you were holding in. "Tartt" you say out loud to yourself. butterflies fill your stomach before a nervous twist takes over. "he likes you" Isaac's words replay in your head. "he's got a soft spot for you" you remember what Keeley said. you ponder on their words, wondering why you of all people were Isaac's choice. Surely Roy could've talked some sense into him, or Ted if he got angry?

you shake the thoughts from your head, quickly looking away from Jamie's locker just in case your clouded mind takes charge again. looking through the window into the office, you see a white parcel on Beard's desk. there's a bright yellow sticky note on top of it:

'For y/n. You'll need this tomorrow! - Coaches'

you smile softly before pulling off the sticky note and picking up the package. the sound of the treadmill is louder now that you're right next to the gym, and the huffing and puffing increases too. loud beeps sound out and suddenly the footsteps on the treadmill seem to be going impossibly fast. pushing your curiosity aside, you cut the corner of the white bag, ripping it open. inside it is a neatly folded jersey – a Richmond jersey. you pick it up by the shoulders, holding it up in front of you. when you turn it around, you let a laugh escape your lips, hoping the treadmill covers the sound. it reads the same as Jamie's locker: Tartt 9.

shaking your head in disbelief, you fold it up neatly and place it back in its package. you hug it tight to your chest as you move quietly towards the window into the gym. you peer in, and to your surprise, you see Jamie almost destroying the treadmill with how fast he's going. his feet barely seem to hit the rubber, running like he is being chased by something twice his size. your smile falls and your brows crease together. he seems pissed, even though you can't see his face, his ferocious speed tells you enough. you turn back around, grabbing the post-it notes from Ted's desk and writing something down. you end your note with a small heart, hoping the coach sees it before the match.

—

"come on Richmond!"

the ear deafening crowds cheer and chant for Richmond FC as they file into the stadium. you're sitting in the owner's suite behind Rebecca and Keeley, with Higgins next to you.

"did you get my package?" Keeley asks, teethy smile across her face.

"I knew it was you! you cheeky little shit!" you laughed loudly, clapping her hands into yours. you take your jacket off, turn around and bring your arms up, pointing two thumbs at the back of your shirt.

"ah, young love..." Higgins sighs.

immediately turning back around, you scoff at him; "pfft, we're not in love! in fact, I'm not even sure we're friends right now."

"don't worry about it, y/n. I promise." Rebecca assuredly says to you, before turning to watch the match begin.

the whistle is about to blow, so you quickly try to find Jamie on the pitch. your eyes scan over the group, and you soon spot him in the middle of the pitch jumping up and down. he spits on the ground and claps his hands together, clearly riled up and ready to lead Richmond to a win.

the crowd roars as the whistle blows, and Jamie initiates kick off. you didn't think you would ever see him run as fast as he was on the treadmill yesterday, but somehow he is beating his own personal record. in the blink of an eye, he runs from one end of the pitch to the other. by some miracle, he seems to always have the ball in possession. after passing it back and forth, any time he's anywhere near the goal, the ball is at his feet.

in the 40th minute of the game, Jamie is crashing through Tottenham players, bumping shoulders with every single one as he makes his way towards their goal. you can see his cheeks puffing air in and out of his lungs rapidly, and after finding himself completely unobstructed, he kicks the ball with so much force that his mouth opens and you can almost hear his shout.

everything seems to go in slow motion. you hold your breath and raise your hands to cover your mouth. the ball flies through the air, magically curving towards the goal. the keeper jumps, hands in the air, and his finger tips merely brush the ball. but he's unable to push it hard enough, the ball crashing straight into the middle of the net.

the stadium erupts in cheers and roars, and you jump into the air with a loud scream. you hug Higgins in excitement and shake Keeley's shoulders before high-fiving Rebecca. you watch the team celebrate by running up to Jamie, who is stood completely still in the spot from where he scored. you can see his chest heaving, catching his breath as his teammates hug him and clap his back. but he doesn't seem to celebrate with them, instead you watch as he looks up and into the crowd without even a smile on his face. your expression falls, feeling your colleagues' eyes on you. Keeley grabs your hand, snapping your attention from the pitch to her; "go." she says, squeezing your hand. you purse your lips and nod at her, squeezing back, before pushing past Higgins and running inside.

as you rush through the VIP bar, you hear the half-time whistle. you head down the stairs and out the back of the stadium. you curse yourself for wearing your boots as you try to run to the main building. running doesn't seem to be your best bet, so you settle on a speed walk as you get closer and closer to the door. finally, you push open the door, passing by the reception desk you would normally sit at.

you continue your journey down the hallway and then turn right, heading straight for the locker room. you can hear the team from far away, cheering in celebration. as you turn the corner, you see all of them fall into the locker room in a line. they're so excited they don't notice you leaning against the wall watching them. the only person who isn't too busy celebrating, though, is Jamie Tartt, who is trailing behind the team like a sad puppy. his hands are wrapped in his shirt, and he's looking at his feet which he's scoffing across the floor. clearing your throat, you hope it catches his attention, his mind clearly elsewhere.

his head snaps up and looks in your direction. stopping dead in his tracks, he drops his hands from his shirt and fixes his headband. quickly glancing into the changing room, he goes unnoticed by the team as he dips his head and does a few long strides towards you.

"Jamie, I-"

"are you alright? like really alright? did I do somethin'?

"Jamie," you sigh deeply, not knowing how to explain Isaac's orders. "I'm sorry for ignoring you the past few days. it wasn't my idea, I promise."

"your idea? what're you talkin' about?" Jamie crosses his arms and shakes his head, a lock of hair moving forward into his eye.

you reach a hand up, gently moving the strand out of his vision. you watch as his eyes soften, dropping to the floor before they meet your gaze again. a sad crease appears between his eyebrows when you bring your hand down to your side again.

after taking a deep breath, you begin to explain; "Isaac said you were playing too friendly during training, slacking a little bit – and yeah, turning up late and then leaving early. he wanted you to be ready for today's match, y'know. so he asked me to rile you up a little bit, just so they could have the old Jamie Tartt back."

Jamie pouts, brows furrowed in confusion, as he blinks at you a few times. avoiding your eyes, he starts slowly nodding, tongue poking his cheek as he thinks to himself. after a few long seconds, the corner of his mouth lifts as he huffs a sarcastic laugh. you look up at him with wide eyes, hoping you haven't upset him. licking his lips, Jamie's smile widens as his laugh grows. you crack a small smile at him and try to find his gaze again, moving a step closer to him. placing a hand on his strong bicep, you try to get him to look at you. instead, he shrugs you off, leaning down and digging a finger into his sock. you stare, confused, waiting for his next move.

"so- if Isaac told you to ignore me a bit... what the fuck is this?" he unfolds a pink post-it note holding it up to you before reading it out loud; "dear Tartt, I don't even like lattes". Jamie raises his eyebrows at you while you stifle a laugh. "what makes this worse is the stupid fucking heart at the bottom of the page!"

"I was just trying to piss you off! Isaac told me!"

Jamie finally lets out a loud laugh, and you do the same, dropping your head into your hands in embarrassment. you don't have the gall to look up at him, suddenly so ashamed of the stupid gag you pulled. you feel warm hands wrap around your wrists, and you lift your head to look at Jamie as he pulls your hands away from your face.

"darlin' I hope you know the only reason I've been late to training is because I can't stop talking to you. and I leave early just so I can see you before the rest of the lads hound ya..."

you blush – hard – and you stare into Jamie's dark blue eyes. his hands slide from your wrists to your hands, softly holding your fingers in his. you sneak a glance at your touch, and when you look back up Jamie's even closer to you. as he towers over you, you can't help but look down at his lips before meeting his eyes again.

"now, don't lie to me... do you really not like lattes?"

"I love lattes." you whisper, smiling sweetly up at him as he shakes his head with a chuckle.

"can I take you out tonight? I wanna celebrate our win since you're the reason for it."

you scoff and shake your head: "Jamie, it's half-time."

"I can give you a lift home after, yeah?" he ignores your obvious statement.

"what if you lose?" you tease.

now it's Jamie's turn to scoff at you, squeezing your hands slightly as he says: "as long as you're in the crowd I'm sure that's not gonna happen."

"Jamie! we need you, buddy!" Ted interrupts the moment, sticking his head out of the door of the locker room to beckon him in.

"see you later, Jamie." you pull your hands from his, although against your will, as if you had it your way you would kiss him right then and there. he doesn't move as you turn around, about to turn the corner into the hallway before you feel a hand grab yours again. Jamie pulls your hand, making you spin around to face him again. as he tugs your hand, he wraps his other arm around your shoulders in a hug. your face presses into his hard chest as he holds you close for a moment. you let out a deep breath as you enjoy the heat radiating off his body.

as he moves back to let go of you, he leans down so his lips brush your ear before whispering: "nice shirt, by the way. my name suits ya."

your breath hitches at his flirtatious tone and a blush already starts creeping up your neck. he pulls back and flicks his eyes up and down your body. as he turns around to join his team, he winks at you, and even though he winks at you every day, this one hits you a lot harder.

as you watch Jamie retreat to the locker room, you lock eyes with Ted at its door. you try to fight the shy smile growing on your face, but fail miserably as a blush takes over your face. Ted lifts his hand to his forehead and salutes at you. you mirror him, bringing two fingers up to your head and saluting him back.

you walk back to the stadium fanning your face with your hands, desperately trying to cool yourself down. after sighing in relief, you laugh to yourself thinking about how your time at Richmond has changed over the past few weeks – and it was all due to Jamie Tartt.

when you return to your seat, Keeley squeals at you, making Rebecca jump. you shuffle past Higgins and sit back in your seat, touching up your hair and taking a deep breath.

"he asked me on a date!" you finally exclaim to Keeley and Rebecca, and the two respond with even louder squeals, which you join in on. your celebration is interrupted by the ref blowing his whistle, and you all focus on the game again.

the guys walk onto the pitch in single file, Isaac leading them out. their faces are stone cold, clearly ready to destroy their opponents. you stand up from your seat, eager to see Jamie after your encounter in the hallway. you finally spot him, and you can see him bouncing on his feet as approaches the pitch. once he's at the halfway line, and all the other players are finding their spot, you see him turn towards your side of the stadium. he looks up at the suite you're sitting in, and you quickly put your hands in the air, hoping he'll spot you. you assume he sees you, as he brings both hands to his lips and blows you a smooth kiss, before patting the Richmond badge on his chest and sticking his tongue out. you cackle at his antics, loving his dramatic entree. you quickly blow a kiss back and wave, praying they win this match so messing him around wasn't just for nothing.

you've never been more nervous watching a Richmond game. you've gone to a number of them since beginning your job as receptionist, but you've never been so enthralled by the sport itself – well, the players... one of the players.

Jamie sprints across the pitch, back and forth and back and forth, the ball at his feet. you, Keeley, and Rebecca scream and shout as you watch Richmond score three more goals. Colin scores with an impressive header, Dani bicycle kicks the ball straight into the net, and of course Jamie punts the ball past half the other players and the keeper, securing the last point for Richmond.

after the match, you find your way back to Richmond's headquarters, pushing open the same door you entered through earlier. this time, Keeley and Rebecca are walking in tow. you all stop at the reception desk, chatting about the game and your weekend plans.

"so how did he ask you out?" Rebecca lowers her voice, just in case Jamie turns the corner. you laugh nervously, shaking your head and waving your hands dismissively.

"no, no, no, he didn't ask me out. he asked me on a date. there's a difference."

"but he's so obviously into you! what's stopping you from just grabbing him by the hair and shagging him!" Keeley exclaims, a lot less subtle than Rebecca's careful tone. you sputter and laugh, Rebecca doing the same, both of you shocked at how direct Keeley spoke about you and Jamie.

"shut up you two! I'll let you know how it goes tonight, you go celebrate!"

Rebecca and Keeley hug you goodbye before walking down the hall. you turn around and giggle to yourself, blushing from Keeley's comment. lifting your head, your eyes fall on Jamie's wall sticker again. just thinking about how close he was to you earlier makes your heart race, your head dizzying at the memory of lips brushing your ear. fixing your hair, you move around the desk and sit in your usual chair. you try to calm your breathing and bring your heart rate down, not wanting to look like a yearning, blushing mess.

after managing to pull yourself together, your heart beat pounds against your chest again when you see the Richmond team crowd into the hallway. Isaac cheers when he sees you at your desk, and Colin, who is on his back, joins in.

"well done, boys!" you call to them while you wave at everyone passing you by.

"bye, y/n! see you on Monday!" Sam says to you with a big smile. you wave him goodbye and sigh happily, genuinely excited for the team.

their cheering goes quiet the further away they get from the door, and you wonder where Jamie is. you check your phone for any text messages, but there's nothing from Jamie. there is one from Keeley, however; 'don't forget to use protection!'

you scoff at her suggestive words, texting back a thumbs up with a kissy face. placing your phone down on your desk you look up, only to see Jamie sauntering towards you.

"hi, y/n," he says as he gets closer to the desk.

"hi, Jamie,"

"how ya been?"

"just fine, what about you, Jamie?"

"yeah, good, yeah... happy about our win."

"I can imagine. you were a proper superstar on that pitch."

wide smiles grow on both of your faces as you continue the small talk; "thanks, love. what can I say? Roy says I've got a right foot kissed by God, so ya'know this is just a regular day for me."

you chuckle at his feigned cockiness, standing up from your chair and leaning over your desk. "don't you want to go celebrate that win with your teammates, Jamie Tartt?"

"nah, that's alright, thanks. I've got other plans."

"oh yeah?" you tease.

"yeah, I've got dinner plans with a really pretty girl,"

you nod along with your eyebrows raised, smiling playfully at Jamie. his hair is still damp from the shower, but he's kept his same hairband look from on the pitch. he's wearing a bright orange t-shirt under a dark green jacket, an unexpectedly nice look on him.

"who's this girl then?"

"ah you'd love her; she's friendly, funny, gorgeous. she doesn't like lattes, though. and she pretended to ignore me but is still wearin' my name on her back."

you laugh, breaking character. you smile at him, raking your eyes up and down his body shamelessly. his eyes widen as you do so, surprised by how forward you're being. you bite your lip at him before saying: "you gonna treat her right, Tartt?"

he teases you back, matching your flirtatious tone. licking his lips, he lets his eyes drop to your lips: "if she'll let me."

———

just something from my mind hope u like it !

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #phil dunster #ted lasso #fanfic #imagine #one shot #jamie tartt fluff

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iamred-iamyellow · 5 months ago

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Paddock Princess

♥ masterlist | request rules

♥ pairing: jude bellingham x fem!black!f1driver!reader

♥ synopsis: your boyfriend jude bellingham is welcomed with open arms by the f1 community and becomes the people’s paddock’s princess

♥ smau - fc: tyla - as always none of the pictures are mine <3

♥ warnings: swearing and suggestive comments !!!

♥ a/n: never let em know your next move WAPOW jude fic.

-Jude Bellingham Replies to Fans on the Internet | Actually Me | GQ Sports-

“We know about your inspiration in football, but which athletes outside of football do you look up to—if any?” he read off a laptop screen.

“Uhm,” he scratched the bridge of his nose. “Probably Y/n L/n,” His face lit up with a smile as the camera crew giggled in the background. “She’s done quite a lot in her sport in such a short amount of time and I really admire her driving style, if i’m being honest. Yeah, I’ve been spending a lot of my time watching F1 recently, so probably her.”

He sent the reply and leaned back on the chair, “This is peak journalism.”

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by oscarpiastri, carmenmundt, judebellingham, and 1,494,027 more

yourusername i heard someone say my name?

view comments

realmadrid you heard correctly

user1 exposing him 🙊

user2 @/user1 I'm sure she's seen the video by now

user3 I wish he said my name instead tbh

user4 I wish he would do more than just say my name

user5 @/user4 SO REAL

user6 the someone in question who said her name being the hottest madrid player

yourusername @/user6 that's debatable

judebellingham @/yourusername ???

user7 have you and jude met before? I know you spend a lot of time watching madrid 🤔

yourusername hopefully I'll see him soon !!

user10 @/yourusername that doesn't answer the question...

carlossainz55 @/yourusername I can take you to meet him under one condition

yourusername @/carlossainz55 I already told you I can't give you the Ferrari seat back 😭

carlossainz55 it was worth a shot

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, judebellingham, and 1,409,582 more

yourusername first race with you 💋

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scuderiaferrari we're happy to have you ❤️

user7 @/scuderiaferrari did... you buy her those flowers? 😭

user2 @/scuderiaferrari she wasn't talking to you lil bro

user1 I thought she was talking about a secret partner in this post but maybe I'm crazy

user3 @/user1 now I'm confused because I thought the same thing

user5 f1 core is not knowing if y/n made a romantic post about ferrari or a secret lover

scuderiaferrari who's not in love with us? we're hot, fast, and Italian 😉

yourusername @/scuderiaferrari OH 🫣

user6 😨

user8 RAW NEXT QUESTION

user9 why am I blushing

user10 we're not beating the car fucker allegations with this one 🔥🔥🥶

user11 ugh I hate admin. its like why do you post silly comments? what's your @? are you single?

-jude bellingham’s story-

view replies

user1 those flowers look familiar…

user2 ME WHEN

user3 i actually need him so bad

user4 @/yourusername

user5 yn we all know it’s you

liked by judebellingham, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 2,059,043 more

yourusername I regret to inform you that I am not dating ferrari admin and instead with the lovely @/judebellingham

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judebellingham "regret"? 🤨

yourusername I called you lovely what more do you want

landonorris we all knew you were dating the second he said your name

user1 new lando lore drop he watches jude bellingham videos by himself

landonorris fuck I've been caught

user2 LETS FUCKING GO HARD LAUNCH

user3 oh how I love them

user4 they are the perfect couple

scuderiaferrari I forgive you

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 1,492,5028 more

judebellingham dw princess has arrived

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yourusername glad you're here 😘

♡ by judebellingham

user1 yes he has 👏

user2 he's so cunty

user5 he wears her jersey hello?? 🥹

yourusername one that still has the tag on it...

judebellingham @/yourusername you didn't see that 😬

user8 wheres the rest of the madrid team?

judebellingham 🤷‍♂️

vinjir @/user8 he didn't invite us

judebellingham @/vinjir wowww snitch 🫵

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yourusername its always great to meet a fan 🫶

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judebellingham I don't really consider myself a "fan" 🫤

yourusername idk you seemed like a pretty big fan of me last night 🫤

user1 oh!

user9 judeyn >>>

user10 god bless these two and all the pr training they ignored

user7 hes so fjdsjkskfj

user6 I need him so bad

yourusername @/user6 same

user8 I'm gonna need full time wag jude from now on

judebellingham quitting my job rn 🏃‍♂️💨

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doyoulikethis-videogame-song · 7 months ago

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Hi all, Mod Rae here with a very quick clarification. Admin is working on a more comprehensive FAQ and update to the pinned post, but:

A lot of folks have been disgruntled about there being a lot of songs from the same series in quick succession, and it can be frustrating, especially if you aren't aware of the timeline of posts being submitted. (There are a lot of new or casual followers, after all!)

Namely, the polls going up recently are songs submitted in late July verging into the start of August, which is before a lot of the currently active submission guidelines were put in place. A number of these songs were, in fact, submitted as a single chunk and Admin has had to try and space them out whilst going roughly chronologically (and our current posting rate means that if you put twenty songs between two Splatoon songs, a reasonable buffer by any other metrics, that's actually only four days between them).

Basically, this isn't an issue of people in the present continuously submitting songs from the same series, it's that several months ago, people submitted like 10 songs from their favourite game to the blog when the blog had <100 posts.

#not a vg music poll

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o-wild-west-wind · 5 months ago

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If anyone could please boost this for fellow US peeps, here’s the script I used to call my senators about the NIH study section halt and RFK Jr:

“Hello! My name is [ ], my phone number is [ ], and I’m calling as a constituent from [ ] to urge Senator [ ] to oppose the halt on NIH study sections and the communications freeze, and also to oppose the nomination of RFK Jr. as HHS Secretary. These will all slow lifesaving medical research, and I cannot in good conscience support an HHS secretary who would prefer the American people to be dead than autistic. Thank you so much for your time.”

Making phone calls is about 900 psychic damage to me—but this is all IMMEDIATELY taking effect, and needs IMMEDIATE action. Please call, or at least email/write a letter using this same template if you’re able 💛

(For reference, as of 2 days ago, the Trump admin canceled all NIH grant funding reviews and approvals indefinitely & effective immediately—like, reviews were shut down mid-meeting immediately. This is literally for funding renewals of most medical research and jobs/fellowships/etc. in US universities, and we have no idea how long this will go on for. Barely anyone is talking about this because they also put the NIH in a communications freeze. This needs to be reversed ASAP.)

#if this doesn’t get stopped it’s gonna have global repercussions. like MAJOR heath research backslides.#this could be cataclysmically bad lol so please please PLEASE 🙏 tell your reps about this #us politics #public health #nih #research #autism

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thosewickedlovelies · 8 months ago

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A guide to writing fics set in museums / with a museum worker character

Hey hi hello it’s your local museum worker here, offering you some insight and tips to writing museum-related fics! This is primarily organized as a list of different jobs you could have in a museum and what their duties entail. This post might also be useful to you if you’re considering working in museums and want to know What Goes On In There. Let’s go!

For simplicity/fic-writing purposes, I would divide museums into 2 very rough groups: large national or city museums that Have Money (think the Smithsonian or British Museums, or the Chicago Field Museum or the Royal Armouries Museum in Leeds); and smaller local museums. These could be local industry and culture/history-of-our town museums, historic houses, or really niche subject museums run by One Person With A Passion.

Big national museums have a fuckton of staff and money (museums can never have enough money. But these places are very well-off compared to somewhere small that might always be hustling and writing grant applications). If you work here you’re likely to have a specific role in a particular department, and you probably won’t do much outside this role (ex., if you work in collections management, you probably won’t also design exhibits)

The smaller the museum, the more varied your workload will be/the more likely you are to be doing a little bit of everything. You’re probably organizing collections storage, manning the front desk, and desperately running fundraising efforts, all at once.

To this end, smaller museums are more likely to be closed one or two days a week- you’ll be there, probably cleaning displays or managing storage, but visitors won’t be.

A lot of (most?) universities also have museums, so a college town setting is also doable. But the same big vs small museum disparity is still possible! At Penn State University, for example, the Palmer Art Museum is its own (recently redone iirc) building in the center of campus with a lovely plaza out front, while the Matson Museum of Anthropology is uhhhhh a couple classrooms in the Anthropology Department (which they’re currently rebuilding tbf, so we’ll see what they’ve done with it in 2025).

Types of Jobs

Curator

The one museum job that everyone can name. Nominally the person in charge. Probably laments that their job is way more admin than fun hands-on stuff now.

Actually this is the role I have the least knowledge of, but I think that’s partially because this job might vary the most from place to place? Structural organization can vary a lot between institutions, but I think the higher up you get in any field, the more your job tends to consist of meetings/overseeing, designating, and ~liaising~

A list of things a curator might do:

Planning or approving events and fundraisers, schmoozing with donors and members at said events, approving or designing a schedule of exhibits, publish outreach/advertising or research materials, oversee hiring, approve new object acquisitions (or de-acquisitions), generally make sure that the museum is working within the scope of its mission and if necessary, change or refine their mission

The curator might not necessarily control a museum’s funds; in this case they’ll liaise with the people who do, likely a Board of Executives or Board of Trustees. Once they get the money from these people, though, they could potentially redistribute it as they see fit.

If you work in a fuckoff museum like the BM, you could also be the curator of a specific department, arranged by overarching subject, geographic area, time period, or even object type (eg Curator of Archaeobotany, Curator of Korean Collections, curator of coins from the medieval period). These categories can be more or less specific depending on what kind of holdings your museum has. I think these types of curators would still be able to do interesting things, as they aren’t the ones who Oversee The Whole Place.

You can also be an assistant or associate curator, like being an assistant manager.

Education/Engagement

These are the people who design fun extra activities (esp for kids) in the galleries or relevant events/workshops/lectures the public can attend. They might be called Engagement/Education Officer or Events Manager or anything similar

Again, the bigger the museum you work at, the more specific your role is likely to be. You might focus on web content/outreach and social media, manage the ‘friends/members of the museum’ program, or engage with shareholders, etc

Or you might do things like develop content and events to engage adult audiences. Workshops or lectures connected to new exhibits, after-hours visits. These people are also probably the ones with an eye on accessibility- you’ve probably seen advertisements for museums’ early or late hours for older visitors, or ‘quiet hours’ for people who might be overstimulated by normal museum hubbub, or tactile workshops designed for visually impaired folks.

I think most places would try to have someone specific for kids activities at the very least. They’ll be designing little activities or dress-up stations for the galleries, kiddie mascots or scavenger hunt trail kind of things, as well as, potentially, activities for any digital elements in the museum. They probably also coordinate school visits and act as a tour guide for classes, and will lead the kids in specific workshops or lessons in classrooms attached to the museum.

As a note on technology- some people would probably say that integrating digital elements into exhibits is the ~next big thing~, that museums have to get with the times in this regard, but opinions vary. Big science and technology museums are the most likely to have the most digital and techy elements in their exhibits, so if this is your setting, your character could also be a generic “tech person”. I would go so far as to say the smaller/more local the museum, the less technology you’re likely to have, but smaller museums are able to get grants, some of them potentially for specifically this type of thing, so it’s totally possibly that they have a few tablets with integrated activities, or some other Digital/Screen Thing.

Engagement Officers are probably the most likely people to be drafted for out-of-hours events, so that’s a potentially fun thing for your character to do. Some museums, particularly bigger ones, have event spaces attached that anybody can rent out, for weddings, galas, markets, etc, so they might also take care of these bookings as well.

Exhibit Design

This role has a lot of nebulous terms: exhibit coordinator, design constructor, exhibit programmer- but these are the people who design the exhibits. They’ll come up with a theme or narrative, a design scheme, choose the objects, write the text. They’ll probably come up with some marketing material as well, that matches the design scheme, or they’ll liaise with the marketing people who will.

These people might not be as familiar with the collections as the collections management folk (below), depending on how strictly divided your roles are, so they’ll likely consult with the collections people on choosing objects for a particular exhibit or theme (they say that good exhibit design builds an exhibit from the objects up, but I digress).

These people will also direct and participate in the install and deinstall (the actual terms) of exhibits- putting the objects on the right plinths/stands and arranging everything just so in the cases. Genuinely there’s a lot of psychology behind exhibit design- colors, lighting, the way you might design an exhibit to be navigated vs the path people will actually take through the gallery, people’s sight lines and where their eyes go first, how the display of any given object affects people’s perception of the importance of that object. Fascinating stuff, many books on the subject.

There are also a lot of accessibility concerns to be considered here- how bright is the gallery, how large is your display text, at what height is the central eyeline of your cases?

Museums often loan objects to and from each other’s collections, so if you’re building an exhibit and you’d really like to include X type of object but your museum doesn’t have any, you can borrow some from another museum (this isn’t necessarily a guarantee- museums are allowed to say no to these requests, but I think manners would dictate that they should have a good reason)

Museums sometimes tour whole exhibitions as well- the objects, the text placards, maybe even the stands for super special or fragile items- and exhibit coordinator people are the ones who would handle those arrangements.

Potentially good opportunities for angst stories here- wow things come to life at your museum, you fall in love with a statue but oh no it’s only at your museum for three months

Collections Care

People who work in Collections Management have the most direct contact with the museum objects themselves. You probably work here if you prefer objects to people. When a museum gets new material, these are the people involved. They might not always initiate acquisitions, and the final approval is probably down to the relevant curator, but 98% of the time they’d be consulted (I hope).

A mind-boggling statistic is that most museums only have like 10% of their collections on display at any given time. Yeah. Forreal lol. But collections folk will know where the other 90% is and what’s in it (particularly the longer they’ve been there).

There’s usually a head Collections Manager. Other workers might be a Collection Assistant/Associate, Collections Officer (we like calling people Officers for some reason), Registrar, or some variant of these depending on the specific flavor of your duties.

Main job duties can be divided amongst documentation and database work, organization and storage of objects, and lite conservation. Just how much/how technical the conservation work depends on your own training, but also on the size/funding of your museum. The more money, the more likely your museum is to have its own lab with people specifically trained as conservators. More on them later.

Here’s what happens when a museum gets new stuff!:

Ideally, it goes to a ‘quarantine zone’ first. This is a separate space or room where the objects can relax for a few weeks to a few months (ultimate best practice is actually a year, but, you know. that’s a long time) to ensure that they’re not harboring anything icky (bugs, mold, etc) that will infect the rest of the collections. It’s ideally super-sealed and climate-controlled, but the primary feature should be that it’s away from the main collections store.

Collections folk do the paperwork. They’ll give each individual object a unique number (following their preexisting system that will allow it to be identified distinct from all the other objects in the collection). They’ll create a ‘collections record’ for the object- documentation containing any and all information about the object. This includes the accession paperwork (everything that says ‘we legally own this now’); provenance info (all previous owners and everywhere else the object has been in its life); measurements and description (in painful detail); and conservation history and concerns (ie ‘there’s a crack in the side so pick up with care’, ‘this was repaired in the 70s so that glue is gonna fall apart any day now’).

(I'll say as a fic writer that this would be an great time to wax poetic over a beautiful statue or painting; you can’t write “This golden crown deserved to be worn by a great king, or maybe by that broody Roman general in the painting in Gallery B” in the collections paperwork, but you can think it.)

For fiction’s sake, your collections records could be either paper or digital, but in an ideal world a museum would have both setups, for security’s sake. So you’d fill out some long forms and/or input all the information to the digital collections management system (‘the CMS’, or referred to by your specific software’s name, as there are many out there). The CMS is not a static archive, but rather a living register that’s updated every time an object is interacted with. The object records also include where an object is at any given time (‘normally in Case E in the Fancypants Gallery, currently in Conservation Lab A for repairs’).

Once the objects are done in quarantine, they’ll go to storage. If they’re being displayed immediately, they’ll probably go to some interim storage space/shelf with other objects for the same exhibit and in that case only get a temporary setting. Every object will get labeled with their object number (directly on them, with a special pen that’s safe for this. Or if it’s really tiny, like a coin or jewelry, then their own tiny box will get the label). Small or fragile items, or items grouped together, will go in their own boxes (made of acid- and lignin-free cardboard or polyethylene plastic, like Rubbermaid totes; lined with polyethylene foam and then acid-free tissue paper). Stable ceramic vessels might sit directly on lined shelving, particularly if they’re very large or heavy, like many stone objects.

Listen, every type of object has a particular way(s) of storing that’s best for them, you’re gonna have to look that up yourself or consult someone if you need that level of detail

Ideally, before being stored away, objects are also photographed. This could be part of the Collection Officer’s duty, and/or your museum could have a photographer on staff. (say it with me:) This is more likely if your museum is really huge and/or has a backlog of unphotographed collections and has hired someone specifically, even if temporarily, to improve its collections documentation.

I would say a collections person, or anyone with a museum studies degree, should have some minimum amount of conservation knowledge that includes basic storage standards for different object materials, how to spot potential preservation problems (like if your bronze axe head is actively oxidizing or if that green spot looks the same as it always has since starting and pausing decaying), and maybe how to give objects a basic clean or deal with certain types of problems. But the nitty-gritty science is more the realm of Conservators, someone with a degree that ends in -Sci or who’s done some other certification course.

The general collections store should always be dark, slightly too cool for prolonged human comfort, and labeled to high heaven. Objects will most likely be grouped by material- ceramics/pottery, metals, precious metals and stones (jewelry or beads), stone, glass, wood, bone/ivory/other organic material like feathers or teeth or anything that can be decorative, textiles, paintings. A museum often has some paper material/documents, usually part of or related to a group of objects they acquired, but generally paper and photographic material is the realm of archives and archivists. Yet again, the bigger/more well-funded the museum, the more likely it to have a separate archive department, so your character could also work as an archivist in a museum.

Another thing the collections care folk probably do is ship objects. Remember how I said that museums loan objects and exhibitions to each other? The stuff’s gotta travel somehow! If things are being shipped internationally, they’ll go in big wooden crates, with specifically dimensioned partitions inside. Then it will be lined with our favorite foam and tissue paper, cut so the objects sit snugly inside. I haven’t personally worked anywhere with a possibility of local shipments, so I can’t say where the threshold might be as to when a museum would just pay an employee to drive the objects over vs ship them with a shipping company. But the preparations would be similar, minus the big wooden crate but with extra-careful packing (and paperwork and insurance etc)

Conservation

Conservators are the people who work in labs with fancy equipment. Not every museum will have a formal conservator or a lab of any kind; sometimes the collections care person fills this role, or if something urgently needs care beyond the abilities of the museum’s equipment, they might send it away to a lab elsewhere, the same way you can send your old VHS home videos to a professional archive to be digitized.

If an object is actively deteriorating in a way that could harm itself or other objects (as opposed to like, at risk of fading bc the lighting is wrong, which is a straightforward fix related to the environment), that’s when a conservator would intervene.

Some methods/machinery by which you can analyze objects:

Ultraviolet (UV) and infrared (IR) light - Different materials absorb and react to light differently, which you can use to identify them. Useful for seeing things like the different layers of paintings

Stereo-microscopy (microscopes, of varying strengths)

At magnifications of x5-x100 you can see things like tool marks from an object’s manufacture, traces from wear, deposits, and coatings

At x50-x500, with a thin sliver of a sample, you can see (and hopefully identify) fibers, layers, particles, metallographic structures

You can get information from objects without taking samples, but samples are usually worth the information.

energy dispersive x-ray fluorescence spectrometry (EDXRF) - EDXRF allows you to identify the elemental composition of the surface layer of an object. So it might tell you what a tool is made of, and also the composition of the objects it was used on, if they left traces

scanning electron microscopy (SEM) - an SEM uses a focused beam of electrons to produce a magnified, high-resolution image of the surface of an object

X-radiography, both film and digital - X-rayy are beneficial for objects that might be covered by dirt or corrosion and can show you details of an object’s construction or hidden structural weaknesses

I’m not a conservator, so if you want more hard science-based info, ask one of them lol

Listen to me. If you take nothing else away from this post, let it be this:

Once an object is in a museum, it is never seeing natural daylight again. Sunlight is the ultimate enemy of every object’s lifespan. If you need to see an object in the sun or moon light for ~magical spell reasons~, you will straight up be stealing that object to smuggle it outside.

Okay. That being said, you do hear (and could probably google) stories about museum employees stealing things from their museums on purpose to prove a point about security or insurance to their higher-ups, so like. Depending on your type of museum, it might not be impossible to steal from lmao. (Don’t tell anyone I said that.)

Possibly the most useful advice for you to keep in mind when writing your conservator or collections care characters would be that touching objects hurts them. It might not hurt them now, it might not even hurt them in ten years, but every time you handle an object, there’s a risk that you’ll damage it. Not on purpose, obviously, but to err is human. The simplest, most effective advice my conservation professor ever gave us was “don’t handle an object if you don’t have to.” That means don’t move an object without a plan and a place to put it, first examination should always be visual, not tactile, etc. Unfortunately, that means that your character cannot walk around lovingly handling and caressing their favorite objects (unless this is a Night at the Museum situation where the objects are caressing them back, ykwim)

Museum Technician

These people probably have a lot of different names, but basically, technicians are the background muscle of the museum. They do the technical construction of bigger pieces of exhibition material, up to and including the exhibition cases themselves.

So they wouldn’t deal with the small mount that the object rests on, but they might build the big plinth that the mount sits on. They’ll help move things around the building, particularly big heavy things, hang big framed works, assist with exhibit installs, and generally do most things which might involve power tools/equipment or heavy lifting

I worked in a big museum that hired a third party company to supply their technicians; I interviewed at another place that hired their own. If you’re a small museum, you might just have a freelance person that comes in once or twice a week to help move things.

Other

Other miscellaneous roles one could have in a museum: researcher (for exhibits and/or collections), gift shop or cafe worker, security guard, room attendant, translator, archaeologist, consultant

Honestly, TL;DR? Just have your character be a consultant of some kind. “Oh no, I don’t work here, I’m Y’s friend. They called me in to provide some expertise on X subject that they’re doing an exhibit on.” This could work for literally any subject- history/archaeology/anthropology, art, transportation, science and technology, anything you might find pictures of in an archive, idk. This could get you into an office or meeting room of some kind in the ‘employee only’ space of the museum, or potentially all the way into the collections store if you’re giving them information they were missing about some objects. Otherwise you’d probably (hopefully) need a key or some other kind of security clearance to get into the collections store.

Whew, that was a ride, huh? I hope this guide was useful to someone! I’m always open to answering questions if you think I forgot something or if anyone wants more details <3

#hopefully this is useful to people as Gladiator II comes out <3 #i dont really know how to tag this lol #museums #fic advice #writing advice #reference #writing resources

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