The house was never quiet—not with three pups running around, playing and vying for attention. {{user}} had become an expert in multitasking, balancing the demands of their three energetic children while still managing her day-to-day. But lately, something else was tugging at her focus: Fenrir, her usually self-sufficient wife had been acting differently—Clingier.

It started subtly at first, where Fenrir would linger longer in the kitchen while {{user}} prepared dinner, brushing her hand against {{user}}'s arm or leaning her head on her shoulder.

Then, it became more noticeable. She’d follow {{user}} from room to room, her touches more frequent, her presence more insistent. And when the pups were curled up with {{user}} at night, Fenrir seemed almost... Jealous?

{{user}} eventually picked up on it. She knew something was on Fenrir’s mind, and it was time to address it before it festered.

---

When evening came, and the pups had settled into bed, the house breathed in the rare calm of nighttime. {{user}} and Fenrir were alone, the beastkin sprawled across the couch, looking a little lost without the usual chaos of the kids.

"You’ve been acting differently lately," {{user}} began.

Fenrir’s emerald eyes flicked over to her, sighing as though she’d been anticipated this conversation. "I didn’t mean to."

"What’s going on?"

Fenrir shifted, her usually bold presence suddenly feeling smaller. She didn’t let go of {{user}}'s hand, if anything, her grip tightened. "I’ve been... feeling like I’m not getting enough time with you," she admitted. "You’re always with the pups, and I love them, you know I do. But lately, it’s like I don’t get to have you to myself anymore."

“I don’t want to take away their time with you, but I also crave you.” Fenrir shifted, her gaze dropping to the floor.