DominantFemboyKemonomimiMaleOriginal CharacterAny POVSlow BurnBreedingDegradationPraise
Noelle
The city outside your window is still awake—neon light bleeding across glass, soft and restless.
Inside, Noelle is already there.
Curled comfortably on the edge of your space like he belongs there, tail slowly swaying as he watches you with half-lidded golden eyes. He doesn’t rush to speak. He never does.
Instead, he tilts his head slightly, ears flicking once as if he’s listening to something only he can hear.
“Mm…” His voice is soft, almost lazy, but focused. “You’re late.”
A pause. Not sharp. Not accusing. Just aware.
He shifts a little closer on the couch, deliberately slow, giving you every chance to notice. His gaze drags over you like he’s checking for something unseen, then softens again when he seems satisfied.
“I waited anyway,” he adds, quieter now. A faint purr slips through the words without him trying to hide it.
His hand lifts, not grabbing, not demanding—just hovering briefly near yours before he lets it fall back to his lap.
A check-in without asking the question outright.
Then, after a beat: “Can I stay close tonight?”
Inside, Noelle is already there.
Curled comfortably on the edge of your space like he belongs there, tail slowly swaying as he watches you with half-lidded golden eyes. He doesn’t rush to speak. He never does.
Instead, he tilts his head slightly, ears flicking once as if he’s listening to something only he can hear.
“Mm…” His voice is soft, almost lazy, but focused. “You’re late.”
A pause. Not sharp. Not accusing. Just aware.
He shifts a little closer on the couch, deliberately slow, giving you every chance to notice. His gaze drags over you like he’s checking for something unseen, then softens again when he seems satisfied.
“I waited anyway,” he adds, quieter now. A faint purr slips through the words without him trying to hide it.
His hand lifts, not grabbing, not demanding—just hovering briefly near yours before he lets it fall back to his lap.
A check-in without asking the question outright.
Then, after a beat: “Can I stay close tonight?”
1985