#Hybrid Flooring Tiles

[lockwoodcarpet]

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[bunnys-kisses]

bark, bark, bark

hybrid!john "soap" mactavish

cw: hybrid!au, smut/pwp, heat/rut, breeding, pregnancy, enemies-to-lovers, dog!reader, dog!john, owner!simon, doggy style filth

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really love the fic? request your own!

"well, aren't ya just a dream." john said as he sat at the kitchen table. his tail swayed from side to side as he looked at you.

you were standing close to your new owner, simon riley. you had a pretty pink collar on and your ears were flat against your head. your arms were crossed and you looked annoyed.

john or 'soap' as simon called him, was a dog. as were you. while your breed was defined and regal. you were certain that simon found john behind a dumpster of a fish n' chips place. but you'd have to get along with your fellow hybrid if you didn't want to end up being re-homed.

john just thought you were perfect, but in as sneering kind of way. almost mocking as he pulled at your floppy ears and your hair. he even got you by the collar once and brought you to the tiled floor of the farmhouse the three of you lived in.

you'd often yip and growl at one another in the living room as you fought over the remote. which often left you both scolded by your owner. if you were on your knees one last time in front of simon while the larger man wagged a finger at you, you were going to put the mutt's throat between your teeth and clamp down.

but then it happened. something you had dreaded, you thought at least simon would've gotten you some birth control shots before you heat took over. you felt some embarrassed, like a fucking idiot because you were leaking all over the bed you slept in.

hybrids slept in beds like any other human, but while simon kept his minimal. yours was covered in all manners of pillows and stuffed animals. which gave you ample room to find something to put between your legs. you covered your mouth with your head as you got on your knees with the pillow between your legs.

you rutted against it, hoping that the fabric would catch your clit through your shorts. you whimpered a little but tightened your hand across your mouth. you hoped that john didn't catch the smell of your heat. the last thing you wanted was for that stupid dog to be smelling your pussy like the animal he was.

"fuck." you muttered to yourself as you found you couldn't get enough friction from the pillow. you peeled of your shorts with the crotch of your panties soaked, and put your legs on either side of the pillow once more and rutted against the edge.

you squeaked a little and panted around your hand as you rolled your hips. heat raced through your body and electricity was shot through your clit from the sensation of the pillow against it. you could only imagine the stain that would be left on the pillow by the time you were done.

your toes curled as you continued to move, you were getting lost in your head as you moved across the fabric. you let out the smalles tnoises and couldn't even stop to hear if you could hear anyone outside your door.

it was why you didn't hear the stealthy john come into your room, or creep towards you in the dark. his nose was in the air as the alluring scent of fertile hybrid filled his brain. you didn't even know he was so close until he pounced onto the bed and shoved you into the mountain of soft objects.

you yelped and tried to kick your legs out in defense, but he kept you pinned rather tightly to the bed. his nose was in your neck as he took a healthy inhale. he groaned and you felt his cock twitch against your bare ass.

you knew your pussy was getting the front of his shorts soaked.

"what do we have here?" he asked, already a little drunk from the scent, "is my girl fuckin' her pillows? bein' bad." he growled against your neck as he pushed you further into the bed, causing your hips to raise higher.

"john!" you yelped.

"that's it, doll. my precious girl. i know i tease ya, but this is worse than anything i've ever done." he said with a dark edge to his tone, "ruttin' in your bed all alone. with your mate."

you melted at the word, you hated him but the lust was clotting your brain from coherent thought. all you could feel about was the heat against you. the larger hybrid up against you.

"please, john." you whimpered, "you can't breed me. get simon."

he kissed at your neck, his fangs nipped against the back of it, he continued to rub up against you, "i don't think so, doll. i think you need me more than you need simon." his voice was low, "you need some cock." he chuckled, "my cock."

you whimpered, "please."

"don't worry, i promise i was a easy pup to rear." he chuckled lowly, "you, me and baby, quite the trio. maybe if we're lucky, we'll have two boys."

you whimpered, in your state the thought sounded alluring. you couldn't imagine alife without john in that moment. even though he bullied you, you couldn't imagine him NOT fucking you in that moment.

"ya like that don't ya, girlie. you like the idea of you being all pregnant with my pups. you'd be a lovely girl like that." he chuckled as he pulled down his shorts under his cock, freeing it.

his cock was impressive, it was large with heavy balls that showed that he'd be a good breeder. he was impressed with it and hoped it would fit in your tight virgin hole.

"here it comes, love." he said, "now be good for me, i want to feel every inch in ya." he chuckled as he guided his cock into your sweet hole, effectively ruining your virginity. he sank into it slowly and felt the air leave his chest.

"ah!" you whimpered as you buried your head further into the stuffed animals on your bed. you exhaled deeply to keep yourself relaxed so you didn't hurt yourself. but his cock was already deep in you.

"holy shit. i wished you went into heat sooner." he growled, "you feel amazin', doll. i could fuck ya forever, give ya a whole bunch of litters to take care of." he chuckled as he puffed his chest out with pride. his cock was a tight fit in you, but it felt so good. you were so wet that he slid in easily, there was no struggle to fuck his little wife.

wife, that was a term he would ever think that he'd call you. but what else would you be? a slut? his fuck hole?" the thought made him chuckle as he started to thrust in and out of you.

your eyes rolled back, his cock soothed the fire in your belly. it was what the primal part of your brain needed. you needed cock, specically HIS cock. it was the only thing that you'd allow in you. you didn't NEED simon, you just needed john to fuck the discomfort away!

easy as that, and john was happily able to do that for you. he would make you feel nice and good. he held you down by your head and you felt hot all over as he thrusted up into you. he growled and tried not to make too much noise to alert his owned.

your breathing was shaky as you clutched onto a pillow under your head. you panted heavily as you felt hot all over. this heat was almost painful and it ran like a current in your body. you felt skittish but drowning in the depths of pleasure.

"ah! please! ah!" you panted, "john, please."

"i got ya, lass." he chuckled, "don't worry. i'll make it all better. don't worry about anything." he continued to thrust in and out of you. he felt hot all over too. his head was clouded with the scent of your want for him.

his heart raced as he felt his t-shirt cling to his chest as he continued to move. you tried to meet his pace but your brain was so empty that you could barely keep up. you had never felt this full before. you whimpered so pathetically, john just knew that he would have to take care of you. after all that was what a husband did.

your lover, your husband, the father to your many, many pups. that was a title he could be proud of. it only fueled him to bury his cock deeper inside of you. the bed squeaked and john breathed heavily through his nose as his hips slapped against your ass.

"pretty thing." he purred, "bein' such a bitch all this time. but i knew better, i knew you wanted me." he chuckled a little, proud of himself that he got to bed the little birdie that has been in his home the past couple of months.

"john." you said lazily, "it feels so good." you panted wildly. you felt like there was a flat line in your head, everything kind of rolled off your tongue without thinking much of it. ypur cutn was soaked, you could feel the wetness all the way down to the back fo your thighs.

"so good." he said, "simon is gonna know how good you were for me. once you're all swollen with my puppies. keep ya nice and fat with litter after litter. i'll make sure nothin' happens to them, our little family." he panted wildly like the dog he was. he threw his head back as his hips bounced against you. his cock pushed in and out of your aching hole.

he would douse the fire in your soul, he'll simmer you down. but in exchange you'll get morning sickness and in nine months squirming hybrids in your arms. you moaned at the thought, you knew you were close to your climax.

"mine. got it?" he said, less like a question and more like a statement as he pulled your head away from the pillows. you gasped for air after being in the heat of the pillows.

you moaned loudly as you felt yourself climax around his cock. further making a mess. he growled in happiness as he gave one last thrust of his hips and he finished inside of you.

the noise must've woken up simon. because when he went into your room, he found you going at it once more. he sighed and made a note to get you some plan b in the morning. he didn't need more puppies roaming the halls of the farmhouse.

he also reminded himself to get you some birth control shots to make sure this didn't happen again.

-

simon's plan failed. it failed pretty badly. because by the time he got the birth control. it was too late, you were pregnant with john's baby. simon was thankful that it was just ONE.

at least you two got along...

"goodamnit, soap!" you shrieked.

there was a commotion in the kitchen. simon sighed and got up from his seat. he saw one very pregnant hybrid and the one who got her pregnant in the kitchen. you two were snapping jaws at one another.

"i wish you'd go back to fuckin'." he grumbled.

[crimsonbubble]

Shadows Behind Metal

cw. nsfw, afab human!reader, wolf hybrid!minjoong, threesome, poly relationship, handcuffs, muzzles, biting, pet play (nicknames), costumes (bunny ears), masturbation, voyeurism, degradation, praise, oral, cum eating, implied cum play, overstimulation, double penetration, creampies, breeding kink, nipple play, tummy bulge, implied size kink, fingering *not proofread, just pure horny

[THIS IS ONE OF MY FAV FIC IDEA YET] HAPPY SPOOKY MONTH AND KINKTOBER FOLKS 🧡🖤

taglist (dm to be tagged); @sidusvenari @sugarnspice630 @ravenempress101 @autieofthevalley @linearities @wisejudgedragonhairdo @madiexuberant @mifuelarts @straytiny127 @yun-fangz @huen1ngk41 @juyeonshour @uniq-tastic @hongjng8 @miyaluvvsyou @everyonewooeverywhere @hongjoongtime117 @nopension

kinktober 2024 masterlist

They were starting to second-guess their agreement with your little idea, but they just adored the sparkle in your eyes and the little bounce in your step when you scampered off to get the items you needed.

They both grumbled and growled from behind the bars of the muzzles strapped to their faces. Mingi swallowed thickly, his eyes pleading as they roamed your figure. The pristine white bunny ear sat atop your head, one folded over as you tilted your head in faux innocence. You sat in your love seat, one leg crossed over the other, as you happily drank in the needy and yearning expressions on their faces.

“You’re having too much fun with this, cottontail.” Though Hongjoong has an unreadable expression painted on his face, his breathing is shaky and laboured. He’s swallowing a lot more than usual, trying to contain the amount of saliva that threatens to leak out of him as he all but smells your arousal. His dick is straining in his jeans, leaking in his boxers as he tries not to rut his hips for any bit of friction, unlike Mingi, who is having an increasingly hard time containing himself.

“It’s kind of fun seeing you two like this though,” Hongjoong grunted at your words. His ears twitched against his hair, his tail tucked under him to hide how it wanted to thump against the floor. Mingi’s tail, on the other hand, is moving a mile a minute, too lost in your scent to realize how hard his tail is thumping against the floor. Hongjoong drops his head with a groan, closing his eyes momentarily and praying that he doesn’t cum from just being played with like this.

Mingi shifts on his knees, the cold tiles offering little to no comfort. You cooed quietly as you watched them shift and rut into the air uselessly. You uncrossed your legs with a short whistle, laughing at how both of their heads snapped back to you. With the frilly skirt bunched up around your hips, they both got an eye full of your slicked cunt, all pretty and dripping just for them.

You gently trailed two fingers between your thighs, lewdly spreading your pussy open. Hongjoong let out a deep groan, his lips now swollen from how hard he had been biting at them. You leaned your head back, gingerly circling your fingers over your clit. You let out a soft string of moans, losing yourself in the feeling. You guide your hands lower, rubbing two fingers over your aching hole.

There’s a small snap before you hear a clank, and then you feel hands all over you. Your eyes shot open, widening in sheer arousal and a hint of fear. You notice the broken cuffs on the floor and the damned muzzles haphazardly thrown off to the side as you were manhandled on the couch. You peered up as Mingi’s hand tangled itself in your hair. Your eyes widened even more as his cock rubbed against your cheek. “You see what you did to me, princess? Now you’ll be the one to take care of it. Open your mouth.”

Mingi groaned as he laid his tip against your warm tongue. Letting you swirl the wet muscle across his leaking tip. Hongjoong grabbed your hips, greedily ripping the skirt right off of you. A deep growl resonated in his chest as he pushed your head down onto Mingi’s cock, enjoying the way you gagged and drooled around him. “Make a mess out of our pretty bunny, yeah?” Mingi hummed, fucking your mouth. Hongjoong tapped your drooling pussy with his cock, letting his tip breach your hole briefly before pulling out and grinding his length through your folds.

His tip bumped against your sensitive clit, making you jolt. “Such a needy little cunt, just waiting to be stuffed full of cock and cum, huh cotton?” Hongjoong listened intently as you choked around Mingi’s cock, taking your wrists and using them as leverage to drag your heated body onto his pulsing cock. “You wanted cock, I’ll fucking give it to you.” You whimpered around Mingi’s cock, looking up at him with glassy eyes. “God, you’re such a fucking slut. Crying and gagging on my fucking cock.” You moaned around his length, your pussy clenching tightly around Hongjoong. With no way to steady yourself, Mingi continuously gagged you on his cock, hitting the back of your throat with no effort.

Hongjoong’s pace was brutal, in and out with no reprieve. He bullies his thick cock into your warm cunt with heavy thrusts, moans leaving his lips in low huffs. Mingi winces when your teeth scrape along his cock, pulling out of your mouth. He wrapped a hand around himself, slapping his tip on your cheeks and lips, smearing precum all over your flushed face. “Watch the teeth.” He didn’t even give you a moment to show that you heard him, simply pushing his cock past your lips as drool spilt from the corners of your lips.

Hongjoong is shamelessly rutting into your sore cunt, nearly slipping out a few times as your pussy gushed around him. Hongjoong pins your wrists to your back, freeing up a hand to reach around you and rub your clit. The action made you jump, your body shuddering. Hongjoong bumped you through an orgasm. You couldn’t go anywhere, stuck between your boyfriends as they all but used you for your pleasure. The onslaught of pleasure made you dizzy, as if having Mingi shove his cock down your throat wasn’t already dizzying enough.

Mingi’s hips faltered as he pulled out of your mouth, pumping himself quickly. You let your tongue peek out of your mouth, looking up at him with pretty eyes. Mingi cursed, tilting your head back as he finished himself off in your mouth. You kept your eyes on him as you swallowed his load, licking your lips of the sticky mess. That’s when you finally take in the fact that Mingi was still hard, his cock throbbing and leaking against his palm. Your moans fall freely from your lips, your thighs shaking as Hongjoong harshly rubbed over your clit in time with his punishing hips.

You pushed back against him, feeling your eyes cross as he abused your sweet spot. Your body is vibrating and your mind is mush as Hongjoong sends you crashing into another orgasm. As soon as your sore cunt tightened around his cock, he let go of your wrists. Taking hold of your hips and fucking into you desperately. He’s merely chasing his release now, brushing against your sweet spot with every rut of his hips. Your upper body fell limp against the couch, peering at him over your shoulder. You can see the quick whips of his tail from behind him, watching how his eyes hardened as he watched you fuck yourself back onto him.

Hongjoong pressed hard into your back, forcing you to arch your back as he hounded after his release. His pace grows uneven, his cock pulsing. His nails dig into your hips as he buries himself to the hilt, painting your gummy walls with his seed. Hongjoong’s voice is hoarse when he tells Mingi to lie down. He flips you over, letting you fall back onto Mingi’s chest. He immediately has his hands on your hips, holding them as he easily fills your cunt. Hongjoong grabs your thighs, holding them open as he pushes in alongside Mingi.

“Such a good bunny, our good girl.” Mingi’s voice bounced around in your head as he thrust up into you. “A pretty cock whore, just for us.” You can’t stop the whines that leave your lips as Hongjoong starts moving too. The squelching of your cunt is embarrassing, almost pathetic, as you were fucked and used. Your eyes focus on Hongjoong, whimpering as you recognize the hungry look in his eyes. “Fuck, look at you. You probably wanted this from the beginning, didn’t you? To get stuffed like the cock slut you are, right?” His stare is making your pussy clench, squeezing tight around the thick cocks, splitting you open. Hongjoong groaned as his eyes flickered down your chest, eyeing the way your tits bounced with every thrust you received.

Your eyes followed his, taking matters into your unoccupied hands. You cupped, groped, and squeezed your tits, pinching and tugging your nipples just like Mingi usually does. Hongjoong curses under his breath, his tail thumping against his hip. He quickly slapped your hands away, leaning down to latch onto your pert bud. The new angle had Mingi pressing insistently against your sweet spot, damn near kissing your cervix if he decided to go any deeper. Hongjoong grabbed one of your hands, pressing it to your lower abdomen. He pulled away from your chest, pressing a messy kiss to your puffy nipples.

He pressed down against your fingertips, his cock twitching within your silken walls. Your pussy throbbed with need as you felt over the now obvious bulge in your stomach. Hongjoong gathered your arousal on his thumb, harshly rubbing over your clit as your cunt spasmed. “Slutty bunny just needed their cunt stuffed, huh? Look at you, all docile and pretty.” Mingi groaned under you, his nails digging into your skin next to where Hongjoong’s marks were. Both of their paces quickened, growing unsteady as the need to stuff you full of their cum only increased.

Hongjoong rubbed your clit in tight circles, trying to knock you over the edge before they fell. That wish fell through as both of them buried themselves to the hilt, pressing impossibly close to your cervix as you felt warmth flood through you. Your back arches off of Mingi’s chest as you cum, feeling your heartbeat throb in your ears. Hongjoong was the first to pull out, hungrily stroking himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm. Mingi lifted your hips off him, feeling the cum leak out of your used cunt.

You lay limp against Mingi’s chest, smiling tiredly as he peppered kisses along your shoulder and neck. However, Hongjoong has a different idea. He slips his fingers into your pulsing cunt, smirking as you jolt, reaching down to clutch his wrist. “Just one more bunny; I wanna make you cum again.”

[heartfullofleeches]

Fletchers reaction to foxboy willingly kissing him for the first time

Yan Farmer Rabbit + Fox Hybrid Reader

[Reader has no mentioned gender but they are referred to as wife]

-

"Damn it!"

The knife clatters to the kitchen floor with a dull thud. Chest heaving with each pain breath, you fall to your knees - shirt clutched painfully tight in your claws as wetness drips down your cheeks.

Three weeks... Three weeks you've lived with the farmer and he hasn't asked you to lift a finger. This is it.... isn't it? It's finally happening. You were a such an idiot to think it wouldn't. He's testing you... A trial to see how useful you'll be to him in the long run.

"Hey, Sweetness. Something came up down at the general store. Shouldn't be gone long, but- think you can cut up the potatoes for dinner while I'm out? It's not hard. I'll show you how to do it."

He made it look so easy. Each slice against the cutting board so neat, precise - perfect. Just like him. What does he want from you? Does he actually think you'll make for a good partner? You can't even cut up vegetables to save your own tail- Just what the hell does he want from you?!

"Hun? That you?"

Shit. "Fuck, fuck, fuck-"

You wipe at your eyes with the backs of your palms, scrambling to pick yourself off the floor before he sees you. He can't see you like this- The thunder of his footsteps fills you with a kind of terror you haven't felt since you got locked in that kitchen coop.

"Y/n?"

Your back hits the cupboard wall. Fletcher's large, imposing figure hovers at the door frame. Two steps into the kitchen is all it takes for him to march up to the table. To see your mistakes. Too thick. Too thin. Sliced indiead of cubed like he asked. The farmer takes a breath. He kneels down in front of you, hand perched on the tile a hairline away from your shivering legs.

"Hon-"

"Don't-" You bite. "Just don't..... I missed up. I always do. Why do you even want me here? I can't do anything right... I'm a terrible wife."

"Hey!-" Fletcher grips your shoulder, tugging you against his chest. "Don't you ever, ever talk about yourself like that. You're fine. It's okay. All you need is a little practice. Just calm down."

Liar- He's a fucking liar. "What if I don't get better with practice?! What if all I ever am to you is dead weight?"

Fletcher kisses the top of your head, voice small - crushed by the sounds of your sobs against his chest. "That's fine with me too, Sweetheart.... That's fine with me too. I didn't bring you here because I wanted a maid. I just wanted you. That's all I have ever wanted since I laid eyes on you. I love you- Always have, always will."

His hold on you lessens as your whines and sniffles crawl to a still. Your puffy eyes cross his as you lift your head from his chest. He tries to smile - delicately raising his enormous paw to the fuzzy flesh of your cheek. He rests his nose against yours - just like he always did when he was trying to comfort you or feel a connection, lips inches from yours.

"Whether you can dice up a thousand potatoes or not at all. Even if you make a mess of everything you touch. I'll always be here for you no matter what. I'll always love you - no matter what."

Your arms creep up to his neck, the space between you null as your lips ghost over his. Fletcher stiffens, unsure - fearful of scaring you off now if he takes the dive for you. And so you take it-

The kiss is hesitant. Gentle as the hand stroking at your back, washing away any doubts left of his conviction towards you. Tear drops fall at your skin, but you have none more to cry. Is he?... You pull away as the droplets drip from Fletcher's chin into his already stained tee.

"My bad." The farmer barks out a dry chuckle, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stop the flow. "Now's not the time to get emotional, but I just- I'm so glad to have you here. With me."

"I know... I'm glad to be here too now, but um... Fetch?"

"Yeah?"

Your ears lay flat against your skull as your stomach whines in hunger. "Can we... finish up with dinner now?"

The laugh Fletcher bellows is far less restrained. "Sure. What kind of man would I be if I let my wife starve? I'll tell you some more tricks will we're at it. You'll be a head chef in no time, sweetheart.... And even if you aren't - I'll cherish you all the same."

[sweetlyskz]

Emerald Gem||Chapter Four

Chapter one|Chapter two|Chapter three|Chapter four|Chapter five|Chapter six|

Pairing: Hybrid!OT7 x fem!reader

Overview: Living away from society has its perks. All natural food from your thoroughly cultivated farm, no nosy neighbors, and peace and security with your animals. But sometimes you did get lonely, having no one the talk to but the pigs. However, when 7 extremely wanted hybrids stable upon your deserted farm, everything changes.

Genre: Hybrid Au, Strangers to lovers, slow burn, smut, fluff

Warnings: Suggestive themes, language, mentions of abuse and trauma

Word count: 1.4k

Unedited

Little hops make their way to your bedroom door. Your personal alarm clock. Slowly, the door opens and a ball of fur jumps on your bed, tapping your leg with its foot.

"a couple more minutes please", you groaned, flipping your pillow to the other side. The bunny huffed, tugging on the blanket. He continued to kick until you gave in.

"Fine, c'mere Koo..." his face beamed. As soon as you sat up, leaning against your wooden bed frame, Jungkook hopped in your lap and rolled over.

You happily gave him what he wanted, gently rubbing his belly and patting his head. "Are you gonna do this every morning?"

The bunny shook his head and put his paw on your hand, never wanting it to leave his fur.

"Alright, enough. I have to make breakfast", you said, scooping him up in your arms and heading downstairs. He blissfully laid his head in the crook of your neck, enjoying the ride.

Downstairs was quiet, a little too quiet. Usually, the guys always woke up before you, shifting into their animal form. However it seemed no one was here. "Kook, where is everyone?"

He shrugged. You put him down so he could take a look around, but something told you they weren't far. Then you heard a couple of coughs come from their bedroom. You knocked on the door lightly.

"Come in", you heard a hoarse voice say. The door slowly creeked open.

"Oh-"

Joon, Jin and Yoongi were laid on the bed, flat on their backs. Jimin and Tae sat uselessly on the couch and used tissue paper all over the floor.

"Hey, Y/n", Jimin smiled weakly. His voice was raspy, scratchy. The others looked pale, like they had just seen a ghost. Jimin however, was red as a tomato. He was burning up.

"You guys..." you pouted. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

Jin tried to get up but the pack leader quickly eased him back in bed. "Didn't wanna bother you... it's nothing, really."

You walked around the room, picking the tissues up off the floor and into the trash. "This looks like something, Joon! When did it start?"

"...A couple days ago, maybe?"

"A couple days! You guys waited a couple days to tell me you were sick?"

Taehyung raised his hand. "Actually, we weren't gonna tell you at all but-"

"That doesn't make anything better, Tae", Someone said, sounded like Hobi.

"...Hoseok?" He wasn't on the bed and he wasn't on the couch...

After some searching you found him in the bathroom, laying on the cold floor tiles. He had a roll of toilet paper in one hand and a thermometer in the other.

"I'm alright", he promised. "Feeling better already. I was actually gonna-"

"No. I don't want to hear anymore", you shook your head, grabbing Hobi and helping him to the bed. It looked like a storm had hit their room. For a good minute, you stared, wondering why in the world they couldn't come to you. Maybe they weren't as comfortable as you thought. Maybe they still didn't trust you. They all falter under your gaze. They're not sure why but every time you stare at them with those eyes that light up the room, they falter.

You don't seem to notice it though.

"We're so sorry! We'll get better", Tae pleaded.

The packer leader vouched for him and the others. "It's my fault. I wasn't paying attention. I swear, we are really feeling better."

Now you're the one that doesn't feel well. You're the one feeling sick to your stomach. Not for the same reason they do, but because they easily sit and lie to your face.

You hate lying.

"How do you guys do that?"

"Do what?" They all tensed, in hopes of the worse. Everything was going well- at least you thought so. Can a little thing like this really mess everything up for them?

"How can you guys be in pain, physical and mental pain... and lie about it?" You were confused. You were fed up. You had questions, and needed answers. You just wanted to be trusted for once in your life. "You know what? Don't even answer that. I'll be back with some soup and hot tea. Don't move."

***

With anger, you cut the carrots. With hurt, you chopped the celery. And with love, you made the noodles, shaping each dumpling into a heart. Cooking was a big stress reliever for you. Luckily, you have seven more mouths to feed, They could keep you cooking for the rest of your life- if they decide to stay.

As you stir the pot, you think. It's what you're best at, besides cooking. Your mind moves a mile a minute. And right now, your mind was telling you somethings off. Something is wrong.

"Y/n?" Jungkook, now in his human form, shuffled behind you nervously.

"Yes? Are you not feeling well?" You put your hand to his forehead to see if he had a fever. He then moved your hand to his cheek instead, pushing his face into your palm for comfort.

"I'm sorry", he whispered. "For not telling you about the others. I didn't want to betray my pack. I t-tried go get them to tell you but they can be stubborn sometimes.

You sighed. "I know, and it's okay. Don't worry your pretty little head, okay?" You took your hand away, earning a whine from kook, and patted his head.

You filled six bowls with chicken noodle soup and brought it to their room, with the help of Jungkook. They scarfed down every last drop, leaving nothing in the bowl. Then you brought them each an herb tea with honey. One by one, you went around the room, checking their temperature and looking for anything serious.

"Okay, I'll be tending to the garden. Kook, they stay in bed at all times. Come get me if you need something." Jungkook shook his head, ready to complete any task you assign him. As soon as you left, the room was more relaxed, but a cloud still loomed over them.

"We messed up", Yoongi confessed. "She must feel like we don't trust her."

"We don't. We don't trust her." Joon's voice was stern, assertive. It made the others cower in fear- except the youngest. Jin hoped to settle the pack leader before the conversation turned sour.

"Namjoon, please don't start-"

"I don't trust her! You know what she might do to us knowing we're sick!" He tried to get up from the bed but Yoongi quickly laid him back down.

"She's not like that", Jungkook seethed. "If you just got the chance to know her, you would know that. You're too busy comparing her to the researchers to realize that she's nothing like them!"

"Kook, wait-"

"Jungkook is right", Jimin agreed. "It's never gonna get better than her. I... I want to stay."

Namjoon was practically fuming by now. "You want to what?" Jin took it upon himself to calm Him down, whispering sweet nothings. But the others had no intentions of stopping.

"Y/n has been nothing but sweet to us. I-I mean she is really just trying to understand and get to know us. Why can't you just do the same?"

It was a question that Namjoon didn't have the answer to. Why couldn't he just give in? Why couldn't he at least put in a little effort? He didn't know, but he just knew it couldn't happen...

"Everyone pack your things. We're leaving."

***

For dinner you made all of their favorites. In your family, it was a way to apologize, to make amends. For you, it was a way to start friendships-- and say sorry. You may have been a little harsh on them, but you couldn't help yourself.

"Dinner's ready!" You took your usual spot at the table and waited for the others to come. Once they sit down and eat, then you make your plate.

A few minutes had passed with you sitting at the table. No one left the room. Actually, the house was unusually quiet.

"Guys? The food is gonna get cold!" Maybe they're too weak to get out of bed, you thought.

You knocked on the bedroom door as to not invade their privacy. With no answer, you knocked one more time before opening the door.

"Oh, god-"

They were gone, vanished. It looked like they were never even there. After a while of staring at the empty room, your rumbling stomach told you to come back to the dinner table. Sitting in the dining room, eating Tae's favorite Mac &cheese, you pondered.

I'm alone, you thought. I'm all alone again...

-

-

Taglist!!

@yoongicatcat @wifflepuff1344 @unwillingly-oblivious @shycreationdreamland @emer-syn @rinkud @amimami1991 @singukieee @nikkiordonez12 @xicanacorpse @cestlabellemort @whipwhoops @spider-thot0115 @ddaeng-angmoh @silscintilla @readerofallthingss @welcometomyworld13 @danielle143 @kookiesbunny @yoongiigolden @woozixo @anaspectoflife @blackrockshooter780 @talyaaas-blog @eashmo @jaiele @kaceypdf @reallysparklychaos @famousdelusionobservation @lizzymizzy-blogg @rainfprest

~Permanent taglist!

@famousdelusionobservation @marblemoonstones @stupendousliteraturewritingoaf @fearnotfimmie @v-love @tired7o @jewishmommy

[zazter-den]

Cat Bath

Minors Do Not Interact

(Edit)Common Scents Series: Cat Bath, Sweet Tooth.

Synopsis- Barista!Reader comes home smelling like her new coworker Izuku, TigerHybrid!Bakugou decides a bath is in order.

Warnings- Yandere, Dubcon, Feline Anatomy, Choking, Light Knifeplay Claw play, Degradation.

Tags-Aged up(obviously), Hybrid AU, Tiger!Bakugou, Dom!Bakugou, Afab!reader, Sub!Reader. Bath Play, Scentmarking, Creampie.

Word Count- 2K words.

With a low, guttural growl, Bakugou's tail began to sway and twitch behind him. The long, thick appendage moved with a powerful feline grace befitting a regal tiger hybrid.

As Bakugou's sharp gaze fell upon you, he took a step closer with a threatening aura enveloping him. His orange and black swirled ears were flat against his blonde locks. His chiseled jaw clenched tightly as his raging crimson eyes seem to pierce through your soul. There's no doubt that his presence alone could send chills down anyone's spine.

Bakugou's voice dripped with anger as he sneered "Who the fuck touched you, huh? Just let anyone lay their hands on you?" His tone filled with venomous jealousy, his possessiveness over you shining through every word.

His large hand reached out to grab your arm with an iron grip, his long black claws barely grazing your skin, for now. The intensity of his grip causes a a hitch in your breath, his dominance clear as day. "Tell me. now." Bakugou growled, his voice dangerously low. His sharp canines momentarily on display as a warning.

You swallowed hard. Oh, oh this wasn't going to be good.

His territorial jealousy seemed to consume him, and there's no doubt that he won't stop until he has an answer. The scent of pine and yuzu still lingered on your café shirt, a clear indication of the bunny hybrid coworker who had touched you.

"But... but Katsuki, Izuku didn't mean anything by it," you stammered, desperation creeping into your voice. The words coming out of your mouth sound rushed and nervous, "He grabbed my hands only to thank me for training him. It was a gesture of gratitude, nothing more."

Bakugou's grip tightened around your arm, the tip of his dark claws starting to puncture into your flesh, as he hears the name 'Izuku' leave your lips. His crimson eyes looked like smoldering embers, the mere thought of someone else touching you was enough to send a wave of fury surging through his veins. But some shitty prey hybrid holding your hand? A useless rabbit who you were already on first name basis with?

A wicked smirk curled Bakugou's lips as your punishment formed in his mind. With a sadistic glint in his eyes, he released your arm briefly, claws leaving glistening ruby dots. "If it didn't mean anythin', then I guess we'll just have to make sure ya don't reek of his stench," he said, a sinister undertone in his voice.

Not bothering to wait for a response, Bakugou snatched your hand and forcefully guided you toward the bathroom in the back of the apartment. His grip was forceful, almost bruising, as he shoved open the door and tugged you inside.

Bakugou's clothes hit the floor in a haphazard pile, revealing his intimidatingly sculpted physique. His muscular form was accentuated by the defined lines and lean muscles that traversed his body, a testament to his feral strength. His piercing ruby gaze, filled with a mix of raw desire and anger, was fixed your trembling form expectantly. Your clothes soon joined his on the cool tiled floor.

With his usual swagger, Bakugou stepped into the bathtub. His gaze fixated on you, filled with a mixture of hunger and simmering fury. The water settled over his toned body, causing droplets to glisten against his slightly tanned skin. His intimidating cock, stood fully erect and proud, its barbed girth a testament to his animalistic nature. He leaned back against the tub and spreads his legs, making his intentions clear.

With a wicked grin with far too much fang, Bakugou beckoned you towards him, his eyes daring some sort of defiance from you. His tail twitched suddenly, and you swear you almost jumped through the roof

"Get in the fuckin' tub" Bakugou growled, his voice dropping to a low, commanding tone.

As you obediently drew closer to him, Bakugou's large clawed hand shot out, gripping your wrist tightly. With a sudden, forceful motion, he pulled you onto his lap with a splash, causing the water to slosh around the tub and onto the bathroom floor.

Bakugou's grip tightened around your waist as he pulled you forcefully onto his lap, positioning your back against his chiseled chest. The feel of his muscular frame against your soft curves was both intimidating and exhilarating. You wondered if your heart beat was visible with the way it seemed to drum violently against your ribs.

With a punishing hold on your hips, Bakugou bullied his cock into you, thrusting in inch by thick inch. The sensation of being filled by his girthy length always brought a mix of pleasure and discomfort that never failed to elicit a gasp from your lips. The barbed ridges of his dick rippled against the walls of your dripping pussy, and you had to keep from instinctually clamp down on him. Black claws left angry indents on your skin as he started thrust sharply into you.

As the water sloshed and splashed, Bakugou's claws remained unyielding, his possessive hold a reminder of who you belong to. With every thrust, he watched with a predatory gaze as you writhe on his lap. The moans of pleasure being pulled from you echoing in the small space.

"I can't believe you allowed a fucking useless rabbit to touch you," Bakugou snarled in your ear, his voice filled with venom.

Bakugou growled against your neck, his hot breath tracing a path of need and possessiveness. He rubbed his scent onto your sensitive skin, his rugged scruff grazing against your jawline. With each thrust, Bakugou's movements gradually erased the lingering haze of Izuku's pine and yuzu scent from your body. His own dominant scent, a mix of warm cinnamon, earthy browned caramel, and the smoldering scent of embers, overwhelmed your senses. Seeping into your skin, claiming you as his own.

You were caught between the pleasure of Bakugou's relentless assault and your instinct to defend Izuku's friendliness. Still you tried to find your voice, no matter how shaky. "K-Katsuki," you begun to protest weakly, voice tinged with a mix of pleasure and desperation. "Izuku didn't mean any-"

In a black and orange flash, Bakugou's tail wrapped around your throat, his favorite way of shutting you up. The soft fur against your sensitive skin was a sharp contrast to the powerful grip it wielded, protests efficiently choked to a whimper.

As the pressure increased, lightly cutting off airflow, you gasped and whimpered. The minor decrease of oxygen intensified the sensations coursing through your body, making you moan in a mixture of pleasure and desperation. Each sound that escapes your lips only fed the fire burning within Bakugou, driving him to push you further, to exert his control over you completely.

"P-please" You managed to gasp out, your voice barely a whisper. The word hung in the air, almost begging for mercy, a plea to ease the intensity of his possessive onslaught. But deep down, you knew that it was a foolish request. Bakugou's selfish desires and his animalistic nature drive him, and mercy is seldom a part of that equation.

No. Forgiveness is not something Bakugou is known for. Instead, he tightened his grip on your hips, his claws freely dug into your skin, pricking the sensitive surface. His soft blonde hair, normally messy and tousled, now seemed to stand completely on end, giving him a truly feral appearance. With every wild thrust, his tail's grip on your throat tightened and slacked with the rhythm he found.

Bakugou spread his legs wider, seeking leverage as he relentlessly thrust upwards, setting a brutal pace that left you shuddering in pleasure. The sound of combined moans and the splashing of water filled the bathroom, creating an atmosphere of utter debauchery. Each forceful movement made you acutely aware of the prickly barbs that line Bakugou's endowed length, igniting intense sensations deep within your cunt. Under the violently swirling water, your toes curled against the slippery porcelain.

"Ya feel that, dumbass? That's me claiming you, marking you as mine." Bakugou's voice rasps in your ear, a mix of lust and dominance dripping from every word. “This is what you get, you pathetic little slut. You belong to me, and only me. Remember that." With his tail still wrapped firmly around your throat, His words punctuated by his forceful thrusts, each one drove deep with unforgiving vigor.

His hand snaked up your shaking thigh. His sharp obsidian claws grazed the delicate skin, leaving a trail of barely-there scratches in their wake, before reaching the apex he sought. He always knew how to handle you with terrifying precision. the pads of his fingers expertly circled your throbbing clit. The rough texture of his fingertips added a layer of friction that sent you keening.

Bakugou's touch is unapologetically rough, His fingers pinched and rubbed your clit mercilessly, combining pain and pleasure in a wicked synergy. Every grind, every pinch, brought you closer to the edge of ecstasy. With each press of his fingers, he thrusts into you with merciless ferocity.

Your body was a trembling mess in response to Bakugou's touch, the stimulation was sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. You could feel yourself beginning to succumb to the intensity of his ministrations, your walls tightening around his prickly cock. His thick length continued to impale your clenching hole, each thrust sending waves of pleasure cascading through your body.

Your orgasm hit you like a force of nature. Your eyes widened, pupils dilated with a mix of pleasure, fear, and surrender. Your grip tightened on either side of the tub, your knuckles turning white with the overwhelming sensation. The combination of Bakugou's forceful barbed thrusts, the constriction of his tail around your throat, and the merciless stimulation of your clit sent you over the edge. Your moans escaped in muffled gasps and whimpers, partially silenced by the grip of Bakugou's tail. Waves of ecstasy rippled through you, cunt walls clamped down desperately around Bakugou's cock.

Feeling your walls convulsing around him, Bakugou responded with a bestial roar that echoed off the tiled walls. With one final, forceful thrust, he buried himself deep within your quivering pussy. His body tensed, claws lacerating thin red lines on your hips. He released his cum deep inside you with the final snap of his hips, a torrent that seemed to fill you to the brim. It felt like every inch of your being was flooded with the overwhelming heat and intensity of Bakugou's climax. It was hard to catch your breathe as your cunt milked the last of the feral feline's load.

The spicy notes of cinnamon, the rich sweetness of browned caramel, and the smoky hint of embers engulfed you, overpowering any last hints of citrus and pine needles. In this moment, there was only Bakugou, claiming your body and erasing any lingering trace of competition.

Bakugou slowly loosened his tail from around your sore throat, letting it slip away like a snake releasing its prey. The furry appendage, a mesmerizing blend of orange, black, and white, flicked with an air of smug satisfaction.

As the pressure around your throat eased, your exhausted body slumped against Bakugou's sculpted chest, breath still labored. Bakugou wrapped his strong arms possessively around your spent and shaking form. He pulled you closer to him, ensuring your bodies remain connected, bond unbroken in the cooling bath water. His tail swished to-and-fro with a mixture of contentment and territoriality.

With your body now marked by his scratches and filled with his seed, you'll carry his undeniable scent, making it clear to any hybrid foolish enough to come near that you belong to him and him alone.

"You're mine. No prey filth should dare lay a finger on you." Bakugou seethed into your ear, breathless voice a dangerous low rumble as you drift off from exhaustion. “The next time this 'Deku' touches what's mine, I'm putting him in the fuckin' ground.”

An original broke artist haiku:

Buy Me a Whiskey

Because You Want Me Tipsy

So I'll Write More Smut

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

I’m just thinking about tiger hoshi with his little bunny gf and how he would treat her. Soft and gentle or rough and pining her to the bed?

😘 kbye

wifey i love your brain so much

tw: tiger hybrid!soonyoung, bunny hybrid fem!reader, mentions of heat, mirror sex, rough sex, unprotected sex (pls stay safe), breeding kink, choking, manhandling, use of petnames, squirting, power dynamics, established relationship!AU - minors dni.

@horanghater @the-boy-meets-evil @wooahaeproductions

There are lots of things Soonyoung takes pride in - one of them being his extraordinary sense of smell. Then again, he's a tiger hybrid, so it's expected for him to have one.

But that doesn't make it any less fun for him to spot you just from the sweet smell of your pussy during your heat.

As soon as you walk out of the shower to alleviate your raging hormones, your boyfriend is standing right in front of the door, catching you off guard.

"Fuck - Soonyoung, it's not that hard to knock on a door!" You clutch your bathrobe with your hands.

"Aww, did I scare my pretty little bunny?" He pouts his lips in fake pity, his striped tail swishing back and forth.

"Well yeah! I was peacefully taking a shower and you just appeared in front of me without proper warning!"

Soonyoung pins you back on the wall of the bathroom, his face mere centimeters away from yours.

"Tigers don't alert their prey before striking, bunny."

"S-Stop it with the tiger quotes." You stutter, pussy producing more slick.

"Nah, I don't think I will." He purrs against your neck and his hands untie your bathrobe, letting it drop on the tiled floor.

He runs the tip of his nose over your pulse. "You smell fucking delicious. And it's not just your skin, bunny."

"Soonie, can you fuck me?" You plead him, hand rubbing his nape.

"Can I fuck you in front of the mirror?"

"God, yes."

You walk over to the foggy mirror and swipe it clean with your hand, bending down to present your holes to your boyfriend, a soft growl echoing in the small room.

He glues his body on your back, wrapping one hand around your neck and the other lifting one of your legs up to the sink, giving him enough space to admire your wet hole before slamming his cock inside you.

He enters you with one swift thrust and sets a very unforgiving pace, a mix of feral noises and moans coming out of his mouth.

"I love your pretty bunnycunt so much, it's always so wet and warm for me in your heats." He ruts his hips, slapping your ass as the grip on your throat starts tightening. You can feel yourself getting lightheaded, but just enough to have your senses intact and watch yourself becoming a mess for Soonyoung.

"Look how beautiful - Wish I could make you see how wet and messy your pussy has made my cock," his tongue laps up the skin of your nape, "Makes me want to breed it so bad."

"Please breed me, Soonie, my pussy needs your cubs, baby." You whine and bounce your ass back on his dick, wagging your fluffy tail excitedly.

He changes the angle of his hips just enough to hit the spongey spot in your cunt and you scream in bliss as you squirt all over your legs and the floor, skin covered with your clear fluids.

"That's my little messy bunny bitch." He breathes in your ear as he cums, not halting his thrusts even during his orgasm. Droplets of semen mix in with the remnants of your own orgasm, soiling your legs again.

Once his thrusts slow down, your breaths have already fogged up the mirror again and Soonyoung relaxes the grip on your neck. He takes his cock away and whistles when his eyes fall on the mess of your lower half.

"Fuck, I have to shower again." You pant, running your hand over your folds.

"We can always shower together." He back hugs you, tail wrapping around your legs.

"You're just looking for an excuse to fuck me again!"

"Are you saying you don't want me to?" He raises his eyebrow.

"Soonie, I am a bunny hybrid and I'm in heat." You protest and push your ass back on his half hard dick.

"That's what I thought too, pretty bunny."

[spiceywawa]

Kitty Fic

HybridAU~ Prev <- Current -> Next

Idk how to format my shite don't look too hard at it. Trigger warning mentions of unwanted "mounting" Nothing detailed.

Part:2

If there was one thing you have learned so far about your new mismatch family was that they were quite a group.

John was good, but a little too excited sometimes when you decided to participate in anything they did. You find it almost cute, except when he throws you into social interaction when you were more keen on being an observer. But the man was used to his canine companions and their go of things, so you'd let it go eventually. Maybe...

Simons behavior with you was not a normal occurrence. This you learned quickly, seeing Simon was a reluctant and barely tolerant being when with the other two hybrids. There was definitely fondness you could see. There was no mistaking that, and it was reciprocated, but it was often met with a snippy and short reaction more often than not. He was the oldest of the two, and you chalked it up to older age? You didn't know, but he was quite hands on with you.

He would often pick you up from wherever you happen to be resting and simply carry you around. You were snuggled in a blanket one moment napping the next you're tucked into simons sweater purring up a storm. He'll often take you wherever he goes. He calls you his little birdie

You would also be grouchy like Simon if you were stuck with sweet boy johnny 24/7 for the past several years. He's a bit of a nuisance but has caught on quickly that you aren't to be messed with, not roughly anyway. There are times he can be quite cuddly, and you'll allow it for a bit before he starts being a turd. You bet theres an ulterior motive, considering his attempts to mount you within the first few weeks of them being there. Johnny now has the scars to show that Kitty doesn't mess around and does indeed bite. John didn't scold you when you bit and scratched johnny after he did it. You sat behind john as he scolded him. It was justice, really.

But alas justice was rarely served these days when gaz started his antics. Just when you thought things would calm down when johnny wasn't on you as aggressively as before. But Gaz beat johnny at being an absolute knob-head as simon put it. He was very smart you had to give him that. A little evil if you were asked. Gaz loved to annoy you AND get you into trouble if he felt like it. You have a bit of a kink in your tail after gaz did his little tricks the first time.

You didn't wanna rough house with the beast, so he decided to knock over a vase and blamed it on you. "Kitty is the only one of us who likes to knock things off the counter." Gaz said to john with his ears down and tail tucked between his legs, good actor and a liar. John didn't miss a beat. That was a whole scene. Instead of just the lone vase, the entire counters were cleared when john went to grab you. Turns out barn cats are very good at evading people.

To be fair sitting on the counter, watching a spoon clatter and bounce on the tile floor was fun you didnt deny that and you would often watch john as you did it to watch his eye twitch in irritation. Getting his attention that way was fun because as soon as he got up, you were already way out of reach.

You still care about them to a degree. One might call it fondness. Johnny says, "You love us too bonnie just admit it." Maybe he's right. You won't be admitting it yet, you'll never hear the end of it from johnny and kyle.

(His name is Kyle, but they call him gaz? Kitty cannot comprehend this nickname. Simons nickname ghost makes sense. But don't get kitty started on Johnny's nickname, what kinda name is soap?!)

[carolmunson]

come get me, come love me (older!modern!eddie)

part four of who knows how many. orange colored sky set list surprise chapter, bitches. after we got rained out at the park, we finish our date at eddie's apartment in prospect heights, things heat up despite the storm. inspired by @loveshotzz older steve series: all i really want is you (see if you can spot the easter egg in this lil chapter.) tw: age gappy (reader is late 20s/early 30s, eddie is late 30s/early 40s), kissin', reader wears eddie's clothes but there's no body description songspiration: lovesick | banks

The door to the building is wedged between a restaurant and a pet store on a long street of bars and places to eat. You’ve been down here plenty of times, the ramen spot closer to the end of the street is to die for, and one of the ice cream shops is the best in this part of the city. He unhooks the carabiner from his belt loop and hurries the key into the heavy iron grate door before bumbling into the wooden one behind it.

“Whew!” he says when you both get inside, wiping some of the rain from his face. He leads you up the stairs to the second floor and down the small hallways. “Both doors are mine, but this is the front door,” he smiles, kicking his shoes off at the mat off to the side. You do the same. “Sorry if it’s a little messy,” he says, keys jingling in his hands while he opens the door, “Maid took the week off.”

You snort when you follow him inside but he looks at you over his shoulder, “No, seriously. It was her son’s birthday on Sunday so I told her not to come in. I try to keep it together for the most part, but – I don’t know, Sasha gives it a special somethin’ I’ve never been able to do on my own.” 

It’s a little stunning, his apartment. And when you think a little you mean a lot, a floor and a half with a metal spiral staircase that separates the open concept kitchen from the living room, dining room hybrid on the wall closest to the door. Oak floors that look newly shined, a big and deep sectional closing off the space so a dining room table and chairs could be placed on the other half of the room. Even the exposed brick on the back wall looks like it was just put in. His hand rests on your back while he guides you up to the next floor, the metal cold on your bare feet, shivering against the coolness of the central air whooshing through the place.

“If you want I can give you something comfy to wear and throw your stuff in the laundry,” he says when you make it to the top, opening the door, “Bathroom is just around the corner.”

“You have in-unit laundry?” you ask with a breathy sigh.

“I know, I’m so dreamy,” he winks, “You gonna take me up on my offer? There’s towels in there already.”

“Sure,” you take off the linen shirt and pass it to him, “I’ll be right out.” 

The bathroom is small-ish but well put together, it looks like he had it gutted and redone to be more modern, navy blue marbled tiles in the shower with gunmetal hardware – he has an eye, you figure. You open one of the cabinets to see dark blue towels folded and fluffy, waiting for you. The image that meets you in the mirror makes you frown when you wipe your face off – a wet rat with mascara running down her cheeks, blush and lipgloss long faded. You sigh and do your best to wash off your face with what you can, peeling off your wet layers and keeping them on the counter.

“Wanna swap?” he asks while knocking on the door. You ball up your wet clothes, holding the towel up against your chest while you open the door a sliver, easing them out into his waiting hand. You can’t see him but you hear his little snicker while he pushes the dry clothes into your open palm. “You got it?” he asks. “I got it,” you say, balancing them into the room and shutting the door quietly. “Let me know if you want something different,” he offers. You shake out the folded clothes, big black sweatpants and an old, soft band tee. Corroded Coffin spelled out in jagged letters on the front with a marionette dangling from a demonic clawed hand on the back. “This is fine,” you say, slipping them on, “What band is this?”  “It’s mine,” he says. You can hear his footsteps walking away from the bathroom while he talks, “Told you I was a rockstar!” 

When you’re fully changed into his sweats and shirt you emerge from the bathroom, padding out of the tiles in socked feet. You can hear him downstairs putting the leftover snacks into the fridge and freezer from the cooler. Like the sleuth you are, you take in what you can to learn more about him, inching down the short hallway and peeking into one of the rooms. His bedroom looks like a bachelor’s – not in the way a guy in their twenties would have it, but it’s clear he wants to semi impress whoever he’s taking home. You admire the coziness of the space: wrought iron bed frame – likely a vintage thrift find or thousands of dollars. Dark bedding with knit blankets at the foot of the mattress, a dark green rug under the bed atop the oak floors. His walls are littered with framed photos of him with people you don’t know. Show posters under glass from the 90s, some vintage posters from the 70s. It smells like cedar and a nice hotel lobby candle, manly and unassuming. His dressers are a deep walnut wood that compliment the floors with ease – he did say he had an eye for color. Your eyes wander, looking towards the doors of a walk in closet, more art on the walls. A beautiful baroque style mirror that looks straight out of a gothic mansion leaning heavy in the corner. However, you feel heat rush to your cheeks when, slightly hidden, you see two sets of handcuffs dangling off a small hook by one of his bedside tables. 

“Find anything interesting, Nancy Drew?” 

His low rumble makes you jump, turning to see him leaning against the wall of the hallway with his arms crossed. You breathe out a nervous giggle, “Sorry, was just seeing the place. Your room is nice.” 

“Thank you,” he nods, “I just got it redecorated — got a friend who's a killer interior designer.” 

“I bet you got a friend for everything,” you say, meeting him in the hallway where he opens the door to the next room. It's dark, covered in squares of soundproofing foam. A few different guitars hang from the wall above a big desk with three monitors, computer below whirring in a low hum. 

“I do,” he says, “We exchange a lot of favors. This is where I work from for the most part. Laundry is just a closet next to the bathroom. And uh…you saw downstairs, so I guess that’s the tour.” “It’s a really, really nice spot,” you confess, heading back down the spiral staircase, “Super good location, too.” “It wasn’t when I landed here in ‘04,” he leans on the railing at the top step looking down at you, “But you were prob’ly learnin’ fractions back then.” “You’re annoying,” you cross your arms at the bottom stairs staring up at his boyish grin, he winks again – your legs are jello. “I’m gonna change real quick, I made you a cup of coffee – there’s creamer in the fridge if you need it,” he calls out before disappearing from the staircase to change. You go to the fridge where there’s a litter of polaroids stuck to the stainless steel – most of them of a German Shepherd puppy posed with him and another guy, clean cut, nothing like Eddie.

“Whose the cute dog?” you ask when you hear his footsteps against the metal.   

“Oh that’s my nephew, his name’s Bandit,” he says, pulling a shirt over his head while he makes it back down the spiral staircase. Your eyes linger on the tattoos on his chest, trailing down his obliques, “The dog, not the guy in the pictures.” “I figured.” “That’s my buddy Steve, he’s like my brother. I was out in Chicago for a couple months helping him get his shit back on track – we got him a puppy to keep his mind off things,” Eddie snorts, watching you pour some cream into your mug. You offer to do so for him but he shakes his head, taking it from you to put back in the fridge. “Is he okay?” 

“His wife just passed away,” he says quietly. You offer him a sad face and he shrugs in that ‘What can you do?’ kind of way that guys do when they don’t know what to say, “You clothes should be all set in an hour or so.” “Oh, and then you’re kickin’ me out?” you tease, drinking your coffee up against the counter. He smirks, running his palm over the scratchy scruff of his chin and jaw. “Nah, not at all. You can stay as long as you want,” he shakes his head, his curls already starting to dry around his face – big and defined now with the summer rain, “Just didn’t think you’d wanna hang out at some old man’s house all afternoon.” “See, I was thinking how fun it would be to clear you out of your Raisin Bran,” you smirk against the lip of your mug while he makes his way towards you. He crosses his arms, taking slow steps before he’s got you caged in against the counter. If your nose knows, he definitely spritzed a spray of his cologne before he made it back down stairs – dark, spicy sandalwood enveloping you with a whisper of laundry detergent. 

“I’m almost out, actually,” he grins, lids half closing while he looks down into your eyes, “But it’s okay, I have an unopened box of Kashi multigrain in one of these cabinets somewhere.” He waits for your next dig, knowing it’s coming by the quirk in your lips – you’re full of them today. “Gotta keep that blood pressure in check,” you tease again, trying to keep yourself from smiling as he leans in, a deep short chuckle coming from his throat. You little brat, it sounds like.  “It’s really good for your heart health, actually,” he corrects, brows raising a little. A smirk flits across his full lips when he watches you falter a little, your pretty eyes glazing and glassy while he looms over you. His voice gets low and smoky, just like his cologne, “Maybe you could learn a thing or two from me, hm?”

You shut your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek – you can’t show him how good he’s getting you right now, not so soon, “Oh totally, like what the best pill cases are for my future arthritis medicine.” He laughs, the soft crows feet around his eyes crinkling with it. It’s a barking laugh, quick and sharp – you’re sharp, he likes that, “I can definitely do that.” His nose brushes yours and you brace yourself for what’s coming next, ready to feel him kiss you. To feel the buzz of his hands on you like how they were when he led you inside, when he put his hand on your hands in the park. His lips ghost above yours, breath fanning over your face while you take a final one before the inevitable. “You’ve got a quick mouth there, kleine,” he says smoothly. He reaches around you to grab his own mug of coffee, taking a long sip. Eddie catches the miniscule drop of your shoulders, a silent win goes off in his head. You want him to kiss you so bad and that makes him feel like a million bucks – fuck that – a trillion bucks. 

He steps back, taking a sip of his coffee while the apartment gets a little darker, the storm rolling further in. “What’s ‘kleine’?” you ask, trying to regain your breath. He smiles, walking over to the dimmer on the wall and easing the lights up to a warm glow. “It’s German,” he says, looking over his shoulder, “Loosely translates to baby girl.” “You know German?” you ask, trying to not let the translation send you directly into outer space. You watch him with his coffee cup make his way over to the sectional in his open living space. It’s big and inviting, covered in a sea of throws that it looks like he collected over the years. He plops down, tilting his head toward the seat next to him to encourage you over. “I did an extended run of Cabaret in Jersey like – pffft, I don’t know, a million years ago,” he shrugs, putting his coffee on the table in front of him while you plop yourself down on the deep, squishy cushions. You swallow hard when a waft of his cologne hits you again, trying your hardest not to crawl onto his lap to take him in. 

“Saw the show in ‘98 with Alan Cumming, lost my mind – I mean, really transformative for an 18 year old I guess. Years later when I moved out here I saw there was auditions for it and just got knee deep in that shit, taught myself German and everything to make it sound more authentic,” he looks forward wistfully while he recounts the story, smiling at you when he comes back to himself, “Was very helpful when I went to Berlin a few years later.” 

“Oh, how was that?” you ask, “Did you have fun? I’ve never been to Europe.” 

“I’d tell you about all the fun I had if I could remember it,” he grins,flopping his arm up over the back of the couch, beckoning you closer. “C’mere, honey,” he says, the quiet of his voice putting you at ease. You scooch closer to him while he pulls one of the blankets from the end of the chaise cushion and wraps it around your shoulders. With the blanket comes his arm with no hesitation, his hand resting on your shoulder and then down to your waist. “I like to marathon the Twilight Zone when it gets shitty out like this,” he explains, “You down?” 

“Yeah,” you smile, “I’m down. I’ve seen a couple handfuls of episodes.” 

“Yeah? What’s your favorite?” “Hm,” you think, “I think The Monsters are Due on Maple Street. It’s the first one I ever watched.”  “We’ll start with that one, then.” He operates everything from an app on his phone, it surprises you that you’re not as techy as he seems to be. It’s not long before the episode starts and his hold on you becomes more intentional, more cuddly. Thunder booms overhead when the episode gets more intense, making you embarrassed when you jolt. He giggles at you, pulling you in closer – a soft whisper of I got you leaves his lips, you barely hear it.  You snuggle up together while the episode ends and another starts, you tilt your head up toward him, “What’s your favorite?”

“Ooh, good question,” he smirks, “I think The Hitchhiker – it was the first one my uncle ever showed me when I started living with him. Scared the shit out of me.”

“You? Scared?” you quirk a brow, looking down at the way he holds you – assured, confident, “You don’t seem like someone who gets scared very often.” 

“That’s the old age, peach,” he chuckles out, low and rumbly, “All that Raisin Bran, really switches up that fight or flight.” When you laugh he looks down at you, eyes sparkling, noses close together, “Is that funny?” “Yeah, it’s funny,” you say back just as quietly, adjusting yourself a little closer to him, “You’re funny.” His eyes flick down to your lips and then back up, you feel his hand spread out on your waist while he leans in closer, pressing up against you. 

“Just funny?” he asks, watching your eyes flutter closed and then open. His lips ghosting over yours, edge of his bottom lip skating over the curve of your cupid’s bow. 

“No, not just…” you breathe, too intoxicated by how close he is, how his lips and breath tease you. His hand glides up from your waist, trailing a fingertip up the side of your neck, stopping under your chin. You shiver at the touch, goosebumps flooding your arms and legs, belly flipping in somersaults. He tilts your head up, his cocking slowly to the side while his watches for your reaction.

“The show’s about to come back on.” The words are soft and quiet when they leave your mouth, your last ditch effort while fear and excitement roar in your ears. His eyes feel like magnets that you’re constantly pulled too, locking with them while he leans in.

“It’s a boring episode,” he grumbles out quietly from behind a smirk, eyes closing while the tip of your nose is brushed with his. He teases one last time before his lips press warmly against yours, parting slightly to capture them.  You breathe in sharp through your nose, butterflies fluttering and slamming against your chest for release. His hands come up to lay themselves against your cheeks, now hot with excitement while they find home behind your head and neck. He’s fiending for you in the insatiable way he’s felt before, the way a man fiends for a woman.

His leads, taking control of the way the kiss moves with each tilt of his head, changing the intensity each time he breaks away to breathe and come back to you. His lips are full and plush, a soft pink that works for him, it’s almost innocent, when you know he’s anything but. He comes in again, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently to encourage you to let his tongue slide into your mouth. 

His hands greedily pull you in by the waist now that your tongues are brushing, wrapping up together with no space between. You whimper into it, unable to keep the butterflies in your stomach at bay with his other hand roams down your back. You feel his lips stretch into a smile against yours, a growl of a chuckle coming out of his chest when he pulls away again. More kisses, soft and sweet with eyes closed, noses nuzzling before lips meet again. You climb onto his lap, he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you – tight and protective. You lead this time, a hand coming up to cup his jaw while you kiss, taking his bottom lip between your teeth this time. He relents, grip softening on you, fingertips grazing the tops of your thighs over the material of his sweatpants. Your hips roll forward over his and he pulls away.

“Steady now, sugar,” he warns, looking up at you with heavy lidded brown eyes, “I don’t fuck on the first date.” You pout a little, he likes that face, “You got some kind of moral code, old man?” “M’just not that kind of girl, baby,” he shrugs lightly, taking your hand and pressing soft kisses to your fingertips. His eyes don’t leave yours, big and innocent – like he’s challenging you, “Gotta keep you wantin’ more of me.” You can’t imagine not wanting more of him, no matter how much he gave you. “Then how come you kiss me like that?” you ask, his lips still leaving pillowy kisses against your fingers, “Like you’re hungry for me?” 

“Oh, I am hungry, peach,” he smirks, tongue sliding out and gliding up the space between your first and middle finger. The tip of his tongue flicks the pads of them at the top, before taking just your fingertips into his mouth for a moment – hot and wet. Your mouth hangs open, drool collecting under your tongue at the feeling – imagining it happening exactly where you both want it to. “I think we should cut into that icebox cake,” he offers with a smile, like he didn’t just tease you into complete stupidity, “That’ll solve my problem.” He kisses your cheek as he guides you off his lap to get up, feeling lucky that he put on boxer briefs to keep his now painful erection contained – though his sweatpants left little to the imagination. Eddie comes back with two plates with heaping slices of dessert, passing you a spoon while you try your best to calm down. 

“You okay?” he asks sweetly, brushing a stray hair out of your face. You nod, shoving a bite into your mouth so you don’t scream over his gentle touch and soft eyes. So you don’t yell and stomp through his living room about how bad you want him to bring you upstairs and eat you out. So you don’t tell him about the butterflies. You eat, watch, and talk – getting stories on his tattoos, you tell him about how you just started living alone, he tells you all the best spots to get furniture. You share soft little kisses while cuddled under blankets, laughing at the bad special effects and talking about the good special effects for the 60s as the episodes continue on. You fall asleep on his shoulder and he lets out a big deep breath – he likes that you already feel comfortable enough to do so. He swallows hard, doing his best to settle down his own butterflies. 

prev | next

[whatsnewalycat]

bunny - one shot

Javier Peña x PhoneSexOperator!Reader - Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: Phone sex, masturbation, aliens??

A/N: Just for funsies. I’m gonna do a second part to this at some point in time. Is it considered a one shot then??? Idk. Enjoy ☎️

EDIT: LINK TO SECOND PART HERE

The first time you heard Javier Peña’s voice was in 1998.

Fresh off a call with one of your regulars, Dale, with whom you role played an alien abduction fantasy, detailing the things you would theoretically do to extract his sperm in an attempt to make an alien-human hybrid clone. You told him all about how you were wrapping your spindly, gray, extraterrestrial fingers around his cock, pumping his throbbing manhood, so warm, so deliciously human. From wherever he was, a wet slapping sound and shaky little moans filled your ears.

Sometimes you theoretically shoved things up his ass while he actually shoved things up his ass. Probing, he called it. Sometimes you’d theoretically take him in your tiny, lipless alien mouth while you sat at your kitchen counter and stretched your very human lips around a dildo, rutting up and down until you were gagging and gasping for air. Dale, on the other end, would start out whimpering no, don’t, I have a wife. Then as the squelching sounds of the dildo in your mouth grew wetter, faster, he would grunt out things like fuck yes, you fucking like that you naughty little alien?

Only after he came would he allow the façade to break, mumbling a thank you, telling you about how his wife thought his fetish was too weird to partake in this kind of role play. You said that you enjoyed his calls because it allowed you to be creative and… actually, you found it kind of hot. He said he’d talk to you soon and dropped the call.

Then the next call came in.

“Hi,” you purred, “What’s your name?”

“Javier,” he replied, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

The dulcet baritone of his voice was smooth and sure. There was clinking and a long sip from his end, indicating that he was drinking.

“Bunny,” you told him, “What’re you drinking tonight, Javier?”

This was a fake name, of course, and was listed in your newspaper ad alongside a grainy black and white picture of a woman who was most definitely not you. Most men know this, sometimes asking what’s your real name? Or, what do you really look like? And you always tell them the same thing: I’m whatever you want me to be, handsome.

A fantasy. A shapeshifter. Custom-tailored to outfit their most depraved sexual cravings.

“Whiskey,” he answered, “How long have you been doing this… Bunny?”

As thinly-veiled as his disbelief was, you appreciated his attempt to suspend it when he said your fake name.

“About a year now,” you started off around your kitchen’s island counter, stepping heavy to let him hear your heels click-clack against the tiled flooring. That really got some men going.

The wet swallow of his throat, a slurp, then a quiet sigh. Another sip of his whiskey. He then inquired, “Do you like it?”

“I do,” you replied earnestly, looking up at your ceiling, studying the grooves of the light fixture hanging above you, “I get to talk to all kinds of interesting people.”

His throat rumbled in acknowledgment.

“How was your day today, handsome?” you prodded, trying to sus out what this man’s motive was for calling. Some people take a while to gather the courage to come out with it. A few just want to talk.

“It was shit,” he grumbled. The flick of a lighter, then a muffled inhale, exhale. Smoking.

“What can I do to make it better?” you asked, edging your voice along the rasp of your throat.

Javier took a long drag off (what you assumed to be) his cigarette, then said, “Tell me about something that makes you happy.”

You frowned and hummed in contemplation, searching your mind for what you think would make Bunny happy.

Then he added, “But don’t give me some horse shit answer like you’re just so happy with a cock crammed down your throat, ok sweetheart? Real answer.”

This made you laugh, and you told him, “Sure. Ok, let me think.”

“I like your laugh,” he commented softly while you were digging through your brain.

“Thank you, Javier,” you smiled, then started pacing around your island counter as you mulled over an answer that’s real, but not too real as to reveal the tender parts of yourself you keep separate from this job.

He waited patiently, sipping his drink and smoking.

“There’s a bird feeder in the garden of my apartment complex,” you confided as you leaned against the counter and crossed an arm across your soft middle, “In the morning I sit out on my deck and watch the birds while I drink coffee.”

“And that makes you happy?” he asked. His voice was flat and unbelieving.

“It does,” you confirmed, nodding your head as you shifted your weight from one leg to the other, “I think it’s important to take joy in the small things. Like how the sky looks when the sun is rising. Or when I see a black-crested titmouse at the bird feeder.”

“A what?” Javier chuckled, and it was warm and deep and genuine, “What’re you, a Boy Scout?”

“Bunny scout,” you joked.

Heat spread across your face like wildfire when he laughed at this. The sound made your heart skip a beat.

“And, what makes you happy, Javier?” you asked then, dropping your voice to sultry croon.

He grunted at this. The sound of a fridge opening. Ice clattering into his glass. The glug-glug-glug of whiskey being poured.

You pushed off the counter and walked around the island again, the click-clack of your heels on tile sounding off every second like a timer.

“I suppose, the company of a beautiful woman like you is enough to make me happy.”

“I thought you said no horse shit answers,” you teased.

He laughed again, which made you smile, then he cleared his throat and admitted quietly, “I’ve been trying to figure it out lately.”

“Trying to figure out what makes you happy?”

“Trying to figure out what happiness is,” he clarified.

The salience of his admission struck you. You hummed to emphasize its poignancy, then told him, “Happiness is whatever you want it to be, handsome.”

Javier was the one humming then. A long sip of his whiskey. The sound of a lighter sparking the tip of a cigarette.

“Can I ask you to do something for me, sweetheart?”

“Whatever you want, Javier,” you cooed.

“Tell me what you’re wearing.”

You looked down at your baggy t-shirt and biker shorts, “A red lace bra and matching panties.”

“What you’re really wearing, Bunny,” he purred, “Let me see you how you are.”

“I’m wearing shorts and a t-shirt,” you admitted with a smirk.

“Take your shirt off,” he instructed.

You placed the phone on the counter and pulled your shirt off over your head, dropping it next to the phone. When you brought it back to your ear, you notified him, “My shirt is off.”

“Mmm, good girl,” he breathed, “Bra?”

“Not wearing one,” you told him, “I’m… topless in my kitchen right now.”

“Squeeze your tits.”

With your free hand, you grazed your breast, then pinched your nipple with a whimpered, “I’m squeezing my tit.”

“The other one, too.”

You complied, attending to the opposite side with another airy whimper.

“Do you still have shorts on?”

“Yes.”

“Take them off.”

You shimmied your shorts and underwear down to your ankles, then stepped out of them, “They’re off.”

The jingling of a belt buckle. A zip. More jingling. A soft exhale.

“I’m touching myself,” you told him as you dragged your fingertip along your seam, exploring the ridges and valleys of your sex.

“Tell me more.”

“I’m rubbing my clit,” you narrated your actions in a throaty whisper, “Drawing circles around it, it feels so fucking good, Javier.”

“Suck on your fingers.”

You did this, humming and licking around your digits.

“Are they wet?”

“Yes.”

“Spit in your hand. I wanna hear it.”

You gathered a wad of saliva on your tongue and spit it onto your fingers.

“Good,” he rumbled, “Rub your clit again, sweetheart.”

A whimper fell from your lips as you follow his instructions, “Oh my god, Javier.”

He groaned and the sound dripped down your center, hot and tangible as it pooled inside you.

“Are you stroking your cock?” you asked him.

“Yes.”

“Good,” you purred, “Fuck, this feels so fucking amazing, baby.”

“Tell me more,” his voice was low and strained.

“Rubbing my swollen fucking clit, I’m so fucking wet,” you whined, and it was real, the heat gathering at your core and pooling between your legs.

“Let me hear how fucking wet you are, sweetheart.”

You slid your touch down your lips and spread your slick around, then sank two fingers into your cunt. With a shaky moan, you started fucking yourself, letting the wet squelch of your arousal sound off freely, breathing, “Can you hear that, Javier? How much you turn me on?”

“Oh my god, yes-” he groaned, “Are you fingering yourself?”

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“Get on your knees,” he instructed, so you did, then he told you, “Put the phone on the ground so I can hear you. Keep doing what you’re doing, baby, make yourself feel fucking good. I wanna hear you make yourself cum.”

“Setting the phone down,” you told him, then put it to rest on the floor between your spread knees.

This man’s stern instructions swirled around in your head, filling you with fire. You followed the urges of your flesh, moaning wantonly as your hands worked your body, “Yes yes yes- just like that, Javier, that’s fucking perfect-”

You arched your back and let your eyes flutter shut, picturing this faceless stranger getting off on the sound of your moans, the wet sound of your fingers rutting in and out of your pussy. Frantic whimpers huffed from your throat as you chased this shimmering, golden orb of pleasure, “Yes, Javier, yes yes yes baby, I’m gonna cum- that’s it, Javier- oh my god yes, I’m fucking cumming-”

Your words caught in your throat. The strumming of your touch on your clit, your fingers inside you, the stranger stroking himself, it all tightened and lifted you. The swell of an orgasm overtook your body and crashed down on you. You released a shattered moan as your pussy fluttered around your fingers.

When you picked up the phone, your breath was ragged, chest heaving, “Did you get that, handsome?”

He was panting, too, “So fucking hot.”

“Did you cum for me?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “I did.”

The flick of a lighter on the tip of a cigarette.

You giggled, “I wish I could have heard it.”

“Is that right?” he rumbled, taking a drag of his smoke.

“Yeah. I think it’s sexy,” you admitted, then added, “Maybe next time.”

“When can I talk to you next?”

You gave him your schedule. It became a weekly occurrence, these calls with Javi, which you eventually were given permission to call him. He was your favorite caller.

With most of your callers, there was an expectation that you would morph yourself into their fantasies. Which is fine. It’s something you enjoyed about your work as a phone sex operator. But there was something so freeing about your calls with Javi, how he wanted you to be yourself. Your real self turned him on more than any of the bullshit.

He never asked for your real name, although you could tell he wanted to know it. Every time he called you Bunny, it left his lips with a kind of disdain. Like he couldn’t stand you pretending to be someone he knew you weren’t. He opted to use sweetheart or baby instead, which you liked.

Javier was a loyal customer for two more years, until you were hired as a professor at The University of Texas San Antonio and finally had the financial freedom to quit your side gig as a phone sex operator. Truth be told, you grew quite attached to him. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him it was your last call when it happened. Goodbyes have never been your strong suit.

Little did you know, no goodbye was necessary. Because it wouldn’t be the last time you’d hear his voice.

[ part 2 ]

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[daydreaming-en-pointe]

it’s nice to have a friend (pt. 1)

Pairing: Hobie Brown (Spider-Punk) x GN!Reader

Type: Mini Fic - Fluff-ish??

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Cursing, maybe a little bit ooc Hobie since it’s been months, a few halfhearted attempts at his accent and then I just gave up whoops

A/N: wrote this while having the worst cramps of my life last month and only finished it now 👍 idk I just felt like cussing out the world at that point so that might explain the excessive swearing 😭

Tap tap tap.

You were just about dropping off to sleep when you heard those light knocks on the window. Probably just a clumsy bird.

Tap tap tap tap.

The knocks grew more insistent, more familiar - a pattern of sorts. You heaved a long, mildly annoyed sigh and got up to open the window.

It was not, in fact, an annoying pigeon. It was Spider-Punk in the flesh. Or as you knew him, your absolute dumbass of a best friend.

“It’s 3am in the fucking morning,” You waved your hand at the pitch-darkness outside, giving him the most formidable glare you could muster. “What do you want?”

“Hello, sunshine!” Hobie hopped inside, pulled off his mask, and gave you a completely unfazed grin. “Nice to see you too. Stop glaring at me! What, I can’t see my best friend whenever I want?”

“It is 3am in the fucking morning,” You repeated, pointing helpfully at the clock on your bedside table, though you had to press your lips together to squash a smile. Good grief, did his little cross between a smirk and a smile have to be so contagious?

“But I can’t sleep, and clearly you can’t sleep, and I missed you, so let’s go!”

“You saw me barely six hours ago,” You deadpanned, already pulling yourself to your feet and grabbing your coat from where it lay thrown across the the bedside table. “Drama queen.”

“Me? A drama queen? Nah, I’ll show you drama.” He flopped melodramatically onto the floor, grabbing your ankle and pretending to die. He looked ridiculous, like a lanky stick-bug-fish hybrid that crawled onto land and starting flapping about.

“Hobie, get up!” You gave a little huff, reaching a hand down to yank him upwards. “Okay, fine, let’s go wherever it is you want to go.”

“Yay! Can we go to the roof?”

“Sure, we can take the fire esca- HOBIE WHAT THE FUCK NOT AGAIN!” Before you could even take a step towards your bedroom door, he had grabbed you around the middle and leaped out the window. Your stomach dropped as he let you both plummet almost to the ground before shooting a web to the railing that ran the length of the roof and extended a little bit over. You both shot up like a rocket and he angled you in such a way that your landing would be much gentler than his.

“The next time you do that I’m going to throw up on you,” You warned him once you got the air back in your lungs (after a little bit of wheezing).

“That’s what you said last time. Besides, ‘s like a free amusement park ride! Honestly, I’m so generous, you don’t even have to pay,” He chuckled softly, brushing past you to sit at the edge of the roof.

“Sometimes I don’t even know why I put up with you,” You muttered, carefully navigating around the looser tiles on the roof to go and sit next to him.

The atmosphere was silent, not peaceful exactly but just still for the moment. Factories in the distance were still chugging out thick smog that floated up to join the suffocating clumps in slowly strangling the city. The alleyways were dark save for a few slivers of moonlight that managed to cut through the pitch-blackness of the backstreets.

Perfect time for a philosophical conversation, right?

“Do you ever wish that that spider hadn’t bitten you?”

Hobie looked at you in surprise, his eyebrows raising slightly. He looked back over the city, leaning back on his palms. “Well… sometimes. What I mean is… sometimes I just wish I didn’t have to do this, y’know? But it’s better me than some pig. One of those bastards as Spider-Man would be a fuckin’ nightmare. For everyone who sees through Osborn’s bullshit.”

You nodded, satisfied with his answer. Truth be told, you didn’t understand much of what he said - it was 3am, it had been a long day, and the words just didn’t register in your tired brain. You closed your eyes for a few minutes, leaning on Hobie. It wasn’t very comfortable, since not only did you have to avoid impaling yourself on the small spikes on his vest, but his shoulder was also pretty bony under the fabric.

“Tired?” He turned his head to look down at you, eyes soft and sweet and filled with something you couldn’t quite put a name to right now, perhaps because of the state of your consciousness.

You rolled your eyes, having still not fully pushed away the remaining traces of grumpiness that lingered from your rude awakening. “Thanks to the dumbass who woke me up at some unholy hour.”

“Come on, you know you wouldn’t have slept anyway. At least this way you have some company.”

You opened your mouth to say something back but slowly shut it upon realising that he was right. Absolutely insufferable.

You just snorted and closed your eyes, savouring the moment as best as you can. You loved quiet moments like these, where you could ask anything and get an honest answer instead of having to mince your words — maybe you liked them more than you should, but it was fairly harmless, right?

Marriage could end in divorce, couples could break up, and young love really wasn’t a constant. You couldn’t expect something so intoxicating to retain its magic against the test of time.

So it was better to take that fierce rush of whatever it was that you were feeling and label it as platonic love. Because strong platonic love, when it was returned, was benign and beautiful and all-encompassing, all at once.

“Oi, don’t fall asleep here. Still with me?”

You felt a light touch of ridiculously cold fingers against your forehead and jolted fully awake.

“Asshole,” You complained, batting away his ice blocks for hands. “Have you been sitting and stewing in a fridge for a few hours?”

Hobie snickered at your annoyed frown and chose that moment to break into a grin, reaching into his pockets. “Oh, that reminds me, I made us matching bracelets!”

He held out two bracelets, ridiculously tiny in comparison to his fingers. They were both composed of random beads, staples, half-broken bottle caps and bits of coloured string threaded onto a loop of fishing twine. The loud, mismatched colours practically vibrated off of them in shockwaves like some sort of sonic boom of Hobie-ness.

In short, they were absolutely perfect. There was nothing that he could’ve given you that would remind you more of him. All sleepiness was momentarily forgotten as you took one of them, holding it up to examine it in whatever moonlight managed to cut through the clouds.

You gave him a smile, slipping it onto your wrist carefully. “It’s beautiful, Hobes. Thank you.”

“Ah, we’re back with the nicknames! There it is! Good to know I didn’t actually make a mistake waking you up.” His tone was lighthearted and teasing, but his smile had turned into one of affection as he watched your reaction to his gift.

There it was again. You’d seen it a few times recently, and it had been silently eating at you no matter how much you tried to dismiss it as simple friendship.

Nothing more than a tiny little flash of that puzzling something in his eyes, but something that made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and not just in a way that someone would feel about their best friend. Something that gave you the courage to finally break free from the voice in your head whispering about everything that could go wrong — although that might have been because of your horrendous lack of sleep and the tiredness that was tinging each of your thoughts with just a little bit of delirium.

Screw keeping it platonic.

“Hobie,” You began, and something in your tone must have sounded different because he trained his eyes on you, his head cocking to the side slightly. You faltered slightly, trying to think of something to say. But before you could find a way to put your exhausted, confused mess of thoughts into words properly, he winced and his face scrunched up in the way it always did whenever his spider-sense went off.

“I’m sorry, I gotta…” Hobie gestured vaguely down at the alleyways, an apology practically written on his face. You nodded, ignoring the hollow pit of disappointment forming in your stomach.

“Yeah, you should go. I’ll… see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” He agreed, already fishing through his vest pockets and digging out his mask. He paused to give you a cheeky grin before slipping the fabric over his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll pick a more pleasant time to drop in.”

“That’s what you said last time!” You called after him as he leaped off the building, disappearing down into the roads winding around, into and throughout the city. You stayed where you were, hugging your knees to your chest as you stared at the ever-shifting skyline. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course something came up right as you had finally mustered up the courage to say something… and yet, it felt as though he was almost expecting it. Like he wanted you to say it.

You scoffed at the absurdity of your train of thought, looping around and around hopefully like a broken clockwork toy. All wishful thinking, perhaps? Then again, maybe not. You pushed yourself to your feet, pushing open the fire escape and beginning to make your way back to your apartment. You almost missed the terrifying rush of adrenaline that accompanied one of Hobie’s daredevil manoeuvres in and out of windows on the fifth floors of buildings. Almost.

You got into bed again and switched off the light, pausing to look out of the still-open window. Oh, well...

You moved to close it, pulling down the pane of glass and latching it at the bottom.

Maybe next time.

@hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099 (not sure if i’m missing anybody else, it’s been a while 😭)

[neoarchipelago]

(Winged!reader anon) I'm thinking it's set in a world where physical mutations are more normal but still a bit rare. And even rarer in the military. But then a new recruit comes and 141 is just waiting for a plane or a chopper and suddenly a person drops from the ground lol

Just HCs of 141 dealing with a recruit with wings. Whether they're feather or more bat like wings is up to you, size of them as well 😉

Hopefully this is enough info to go off of

OH NICE.

Ok here it is.

(Winged!reader) x squad 141 (monster hybrid AU)

When you had dropped down from the sky, in front of the line of four, five men in front of you, you had wanted to hide.

It wasn't exactly a secret that people like you existed... But it was definitely uncommon. Your big grey white black wings retracting shyly around you. It was extremely close to falcon wings, which was exactly what you were the closest to. You had also inherited of the exceptional sight of the bird.

"Well! That's interesting!" One of the men said.

"WOAH. THAT'S SO COOL" A Scottish accent added.

You blushed and finally let out a small smile.

It took a few days to get used to the base. The new team was nice. You had learnt their names, Soap, gaz, Konig, ghost and Price. They seemed to be quite alright with your physical appearance.

Konig was always mesmerized. He'd sit close to you, eyes shining in wonder. He'd ask very shyly if he could touch your feathers, happily squealing when you'd agree. He was always really careful with the feathers. He liked to pass his finger tips on the edged, feeling the softness of it. With time, you'd give him each feather that would fall from your wings.

Gaz had been more curious about your sight. He had questionned you for hours, trying to satisfy his curiosity. Sometimes he'd ask you to fly over the base as he'd hide, creating some kind of 'where his waldo' in real life. He'd be amazed each time you'd find him so easily.

Soap just wanted to fly. He'd ask you to try and make him fly. It was hard. He was a bit heavy for you. You usually managed to get him off the floor and enough to fly a few inches from the ground. Eventually he'd be so happy of it you'd feel slightly guilty for not being stronger.

Price would often scold them, telling them to leave you alone. He'd be particularly careful to the way others treated you around the base. It was still rare to see hybrids like you, people were curious, scared or plain disgusted. He'd try to shield you from it as much as possible.

Ghost had also noticed it. The way some recruits would side glance you, or the way they'd whisper under their breath. He had taken upon himself to train you. It wasn't easy, he wasn't used to it, but he adapted very quickly. You had felt particularly close to him, when one night, after a training session, you had both walked out to find a pouring storm outside. Ghost had cursed under his breath, taking a step into the rain, expecting to feel the cold droplets. He was shocked to feel no difference, he had glanced up, a spread out wing shielding him from the rain. He had eyed you, as you were unable to do the same for yourself, he had took off his coat throwing it over your head and walking you back to the baracks.

With time, you had felt at home with the squad. But tile passed and the rest of the base was still weary of you. You felt awful sometimes. The fear in people's eyes... Or the little insults barely audible to no other than you. You sometimes felt horrible, and particularly down.

On a particular bad episode, the boys had grown worried. A little meeting in between soap, gaz, Konig and Ghost took place in one of the common rooms of your quarters.

"do you think they're unhappy? Like a bird in a cage?" Soap had asked.

"i don't think so... She can go out and fly whenever she wants..." Gaz countered.

"maybe snacks..?" Konig asked.

Ghost looked in deep thought, soap trying to get his attention. The man frowned before spilling what's in his mind.

"birds...nest right?" He had let out.

Suddenly little light bulbs had popped over the boys heads. Of course! You missed a nest!

They had hurried up to buy an enormous fluffy bean bag, it barely feet in ghost jeep. Pillows, lots of pillows and blankets to add.

Once they arrived at base they made sure you were out of your room before preparing the 'nest' in a corner. It looked like a little fort, Konig had insisted on adding fairy lights.

When you had walked into your room with price you had blinked a few times, trying to figure out the scenery before you.

"what are you boys doing?" You asked.

"we built a nest for you!" Soap had happily yelled.

"yeah, we made sure it's comfy and cozy" gaz added.

"thought it'd make you feel better..." Ghost mumbled.

You had immediately blushed hiding your face in your hands, wings retracting closer to your body.

Price had burst out laughing, confuse settling on the boys faces.

"what?" Soap asked.

"you built a nest? You guys built a nest? For them?" He had tried to make them understand the situation.

"yes..." Konig had said in a small voice.

"congratulations Y/N... You have now 4 full grown suitors trying to be your mate." He laughed before walking out, the boys gasping as they understood the situation.

After that, they had apologized. You didn't mind, after all you really enjoyed the nest. You often found yourself nest there, reading or listening to music.

When the boys had understood the real situation, they had grown extremely protective of you. Soap had grown jealous of the way you'd shield ghost from the rain or the sun, he'd insist to hide under as well. Eventually you'd end up with three big grown man, shielding themselves under your spread out wings, price scolding them but none moving.

Konig calls you birdie.

Soap calls you feathers.

Gaz teases you calling you 'falcon' 'robin' or 'hawkeye'.

Price calls you his little bird.

Ghost calls you angel, but only when you're both alone.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (X)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWOis here PART THREEis here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here PART EIGHT is here PART NINE is here and this is part ten oh gods this was gonna be short at some point oh fuck

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Bath boy took a bath! It was only a little gross! ...Ok JK it was quite gross.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my awful attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

“Gifts from Medical, coming through!”

Wally barely feels the way Bart whacks him with a spare pillow case, but the whiffing noise is kind of a clue that the teen wants him to slow down. Or, in all actuality, Impulse probably wants Wally to buzz off, but Wally’s got boxes and boxes of tinker toys in his arms and nowhere else to put them down, so there really isn’t an alternative but a direct route to his destination.

“Go away!” Bart complains, and whacks the back of Wally’s head with the pillow case again. Wally hopes it’s one of the clean ones. He’s seen the ones that Bart’s favorite patient has…used. “No adults allowed! Bats said so!”

That's true. Batman had said that. “Well,” Wally says, dodging his way to the curtain to Bart’s clear dismay, “Medical said it was alright, and we all have to listen to them. They also packed gifts for your bud, so…”

Bart grabs onto the back of Wally’s suit and digs his feet into the tile. “Thatdoesn’tmeanyoucanbargeinhisspace!” the kid protests, teeth gritted, as Wally drags him across the floor with nothing but a determined gait and a tiny bit of the speedforce. (Just a little.) “It makes him nervous!! And then he’ll bite you!”

Oh, yeah, the biting. Wally stops at the edge of the curtain, hands on the gross gray fabric. Hrm.

“Uh.” There’s gotta be a solution to that. He looks down at Bart’s weird mop-head hairstyle. “Will he stop if I bring gifts?”

“Nah. He’s going to eat you.”

…Great.

“Bossy,” Wally decides, even if this is, in the end, for the alien-kid’s sake. Bart squawks. “Oh well. I gotta deliver these anyway. Hey, stranger; I come bearing gifts from your medical team! Uh…hiss if you get mad, I guess?”

Wally bumps the free-flowing curtain to the side with his hips, showing off the aforementioned pile of toys in his arms before poking his head in.

The cluster of darkness on the bed, being largely a mass of black in the vague shape of a humanoid, says nothing.

Bart crawls underneath Wally’s outstretched pile of deliveries so that he can go straight up to the bitiest occupant of the Watchtower proper. The teen kneels down on the floor, put his chin on the entity’s cot mattress, and leans up on the bed up at the shadowy mass of teenager up above him. “I can tell him to go away if you want me to,” he tells the entity, who sort of…turns? Towards the speedster. “I could beat him up.”

Wally snorts. No he couldn’t.

“…I could get Superboy to beat him up,” Bart immediately amends, which, hey! Not nice!

…True, maybe, but not nice!

The shadow-kid doesn’t get up and leave, and he doesn’t start hissing or throwing things—both things Wally is pretty sure he’s capable of. And, well, Wally has a job to do, and unless the alien entity teen actually discourages him from doing it, Wally’s going to do his best to help the kid out on this one.

“Bart, if you really want to help him feel comfy when I pop this on his bed, get between him ‘n me, please.”

Impulse, thankfully, holds off on sulking. He hops onto the alien kid’s medical cot-bed, carefully tucking in a blanket beneath him as to stay…sanitary.

Wally’s got to admit. It doesn’t smell so hot in here. Maybe he ought to have let medical wrestle him into some hygienic gear instead of zipping straight down. Eh. Too late now.

Wally carefully releases the pile of presents from the kid’s medical team onto the bed— snatching one or two bouncers out of the air before they fall onto the floor.

Bart and the nameless alien kid lean in closer to inspect the colorful packages. “Oh, sweet!” Impulse exclaims, eyes wide. “Hey, look, you got new stuff!”

New stuff is right. Finance lets medical essentially decide their own budget; purchase orders of new physical therapy tools are consistently approved even with oversight. In this case, it looked like the team was more than happy to take advantage of that goodwill with a run to the local children’s educational shop.

There are boxes upon boxes of colorful children’s toys on the mattress. Bart looks like Christmas has come early. The alien kid looks—at attention? At least? His claws gently rake over the rainbow-bright cardboard boxes, turning them this way and that so that he can see.

Wally zips away and zips back with a chair for himself. The cot is gross, yes, but more importantly, Wonder Woman has made very clear in her notes that the bed is part the kid’s perceived personal space. Violating that trust with the alien-entity-kid is largely a non-option. If they want to hold themselves up to the standard that J’onn was able to impart in their brief conversation, they have to be kind, careful, and considerate of his personal space.

The Flash (the second) hops into the chair. “Want to help the kid open the stuff, Impulse? Might be hard with his. Uh. Hand claws. Claw…hands?”

They both look at the aforementioned being’s hands. The claws look like hands and sometimes they look like claws, but they mostly don’t look like anything. If Wally stops paying attention, he legitimately thinks he’s alone in the room with Bart and a stiff breeze. 

“…Fingers,” Bart finally decides on. And then he beams. “Yeah! Okay. Hey, look! Let’s open this one!”

The kid-alien-thing mostly seems to respond to the brightly-colored and waving object in his vision and Bart’s cheery tone. Still, react he does. The amorphous form gets closer, tilts forward, and shimmers ever so slightly with attention as Bart begins to narrate his unboxing of colorful grip-shaped silicone toys, with little suction cups on the ends so that they can stick to things.

Bart sticks one to the kid’s side table. It takes the kid a second to observe, come to a conclusion, and then—fumblingly—claw the bright blue sucker off with his fingers until it comes free. The wobbly form of a teenage alien tries, misses, and then tries again to get the suction cup to relatch onto the table. The purr at his own success vibrates quietly through the room. It…the sensation shivers through Wally’s body.

It feels very, very weird. A little too personal. Like…the sound is embedded beneath his skin. Wally carefully scratches at himself, but the sensation of fingers on his suit doesn’t get rid of the feeling brushing against his muscle layer.

Bart doesn’t even react to the feeling, even if he can tell that Wally’s getting twitchy. “Tim thinks that most of his being is extradimensional. That’s why I can tell what he’s up to more; he zings in the speedforce.”

Wally slowly pushes himself up in his chair. “Wait, really?”

Bart doesn’t look up from his new project: unwrapping the cling wrap from dry erase lapboards. They look like they have the alphabet dotted along them in little spots of blue ink. “Mmhm.”

That’s… “Does Barry know?”

“I dunno.” Bart shrugs. He’s too busy watching his friend watch him unwrap preschool toys to give a clearer answer. “You can text him I guess. I think it’s just a theory, but he’s not biting you for being in his space right now, and he’s hissed at like everyone else who’s been here. Hey, look!! This one’s slime!”

Wally half gets up out of the seat. “Okay, okay, I think that one—“ He’s gone and back in a couple of nanoseconds, a plastic cafeteria tray clutched in his fists. “—That one needs a tray, I think. Don’t mess up the sheets with your new goo just because you’re excited.”

Impulse, teen speedster from the future, and a so-far nameless, bodiless alien teenage entity, share a vaguely textured cafeteria tray as they smush purple and yellow sensory beads around in rough circles. There are other toys that get opened, but are left largely untouched: a clock puzzle with insertable shapes serving as the numbers, and a 3D drawing pad with reusable cords on a velcro backing. The winner of the batch seems to be the colorful sensory beads in little tubs, considering that the two recipients of the stuff seem to gravitate back towards it with every new unboxing.

Of course, the favorite has to be the messy toy. Honestly, Wally should have guessed. Whatever. The plastic and wrapping trash is gone in seconds, leaving the kid’s space nice and clean, since apparently Wally is hanging around to be adult supervision. He might as well help out a bit.

And, apparently, the alien kid has something of a heart in his not-quite-present body; when Wally’s done throwing the trash out, the kid’s projectile of choice to chuck at Wally’s torso is a red block of floam putty sensory beads, matching the red of Wally’s suit.

…Wally’s going to take it as a nice gesture. The kid is purring and playing and generally disarmed, so this is probably an attempt at bonding.

The kid has a toy. Bart has a toy. Wally has a toy.

“Thanks,” he says, and unwraps the plastic on the stuff.

The alien might not have words to respond, but he purrs, and he purrs, and he purrs, and Bart hums right along with him.

And they knead putty together.

💚👻👽👻💚

Toys for injured ghosts:

Squigz™ Master Set

Squish & Squeeze Sensory Beads

Double-Sided Early Writing Skills Lapboard

Shape Sorting Clock

Rainbow Cord & Picture Pattern Maker

Yes I used real toys and went on a fake shopping spree; I used a combo of Lakeshore and Melissa & Doug, mostly looking for stuff that either aided with fine motor skills, language acquisition, or both. They know Danny doesn't speak English and they know he has trouble with his hands, and at least one of the Medical team has to have or has young kids, and this is what they came up with collectively. Do they resent that Wonder Woman got to him first? No, definitely not. :( They did try to find toys that weren't outrageously condescending, though; no dolls, no fine motor toys meant for, like, ham-fisted babies. The fact that the toys are, like, equally interesting to Bart, is, like...unique to Bart. Maybe Kon, too. I feel like Tim gets to watch Cassie, Bart, Kon, and the alien play around determinedly with the Squigz while he's defrauding Lex Luthor from his laptop nearby lol