#might be just the best hybrid of all time

[multipleoccupancy]

He sensed their topic was helping her too and so Theo was comfortable in staying with it for the time being. Not realising the path he was sending Samantha down as she started to express her thoughts. She started talking about how she had been recruited and Theo paused to watch her, silent and still, worried that a single movement or too loud a breath might startle her from speaking. She never mentioned it and he later learned that it was not something that should be asked or really revealed to others.

Her story sounded harrowing though! She was almost sacrificed to hybrids? He might have never known her, she could had died and he'd have been none the wiser. He caught that disguised sob, he knew her too well now and stopped what he was doing with the net to cross the space between them and pull Samantha into a tight and protective hug.

"I'm sorry that happened to you, but I am so glad you made it out of there." He was sure to say very clearly but there was a short and quiet rasp to his voice as he was sure to hold back his tears and his horror. "We can help this guy, we'll do all we can. It's going to be ok and we'll make sure this never happens to anyone else again." He promised, or at least thought he could without the sense to remember that there was a big wide world out there with cultists lurking and waiting.

Unaware he was doing very little to settle Violet's nerves around his counterpart, Sloane kept up the act comfortably, smiling politely to the man as Violet thanked him too and then to her, still so tired and polite as she gave her own response. Oh she was very good! He'd have to tell her when they got out of ear shot!

The man returned with the key to the dorm and Sloane's ID card. "Here you go Professor Parry, Miss Parry," he said as kindly as he could, clearly trying to do his best to seem professional in the moment. In truth, Sloane thought they now had the perfect set up for him to leave unannounced in a few days, of course he would have to look after dear cold and tired little Astrid.

"Ah! Thank you," Sloane was quick to say but he took the key and card calm and polite, "You hold onto the key for me?" He offered to Violet, holding out the little door key for her to take. "Don't lose it now, be sure to hold on tight to it," he encouraged as perhaps a tired father might, not quite able to see his daughter as fifteen yet, still young and in need of encouragement. "I'll just put this back in here," he explained as he pretended to fumble around with his wallet again to put the card back in, seemingly getting frustrated and jamming it in half way before closing the wallet again.

"You've been our saviour tonight," Sloane praised the man, putting his hand back on Violet's shoulder. "I'll be sure to tell Stacey how helpful you've been, I can't thank you enough." He even let a little bit of tears flood his eyelashes without actually letting them fall. "What a nice man," he told Violet with a small smile, "let's get you set up in the room and settled in, we can take the sleeping bag from my car, it'll be like when we used to go camping, just without the mosquitoes," He gave a tired laugh and started to head back towards the door to leave. Thrilled with their performance.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Focusing on a possible solution helped Samantha, too. It kept her mind away from the plan, from her being bait. "Yes, you're right. It was probably a ritual or something of the sort. Maybe we can force him to do the reverse ritual if there's one." Oh, right. Violet had seen a woman turned into a monster. "Maybe he's hiding a monster somewhere, yes. Or maybe he's using some monster poison? Injecting it in the student's veins?"

She paused, her fingers resting on the rope. "I don't know if it works the same way, but... I saw things. Similar things. It's how I got recruited. I don't talk about it because..." Samantha looked down at the net. "It was horrible. Someone died." Her lip quivered. "It was a fertility clinic. They were making... hybrids? I don't really know. Half-monsters, half-babies. I worked there as an intern, and I had no idea this was happening. I thought it was a normal clinic. But one day, they tried to sacrifice me and another intern. They wanted to feed us to the monsters. I managed to escape, but..." The other intern was not so lucky. "I couldn't save him."

Samantha disguised a sob behind an awkward cough. "There was no turning them back, these creatures. They had never been fully human in the first place, anyway."

Violet was really very impressed by Sloane, how easily he played his part. But it was a little bit scary, too. Like with the flick of a switch, he had turned into a single dad, worried about his daughter. No wonder she always got tricked by the Sloane she knew. He didn't just disguise himself, he transformed himself.

"Thanks, Dad," she whispered just as low when he offered her his lunchbox. He was expertly making their situation seem even more heartbreaking to the man behind the desk. And it worked, too, because here he was, offering them a room -the room Sloane told her would be ideal.

This little charade reminded her of how much she missed her dad and her home in New York. When her eyes got just a little bit shinier, she wasn't playing. She did feel like crying.

"Thank you so much, sir," she was sure to say with a grateful smile. And when he disappeared into the office and Sloane suggested they get McDonald's the next day, she followed his example and continued with her own part -the tired daughter. "Really? I'd like that a lot," she replied, careful not to sound too excited -this was supposed to be a consolation prize after all.

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Collars Of Duty 4

MalinoisHybrid!Simon x reader

- Chapter 3 - (Chapter 5)

Simon's gone and you're left to deal with his sudden absence. But maybe it's not all over yet.

~ 8,3k Words

Content (might contain spoilers): reader being mean to themselves in their thoughts, hybrid AU, mention of past injury, hints at past attack, mentions of therapy, biting, blood

A.N: I messed with the COD timeline here. I know that some of the things I mention don't happen during this time and don't fit with the canon but it's my AU so shush. Curious if you lot catch the cameo. Have fun. Also not my best chapter but I poured a lot of heart, time and effort into it.

It’s been almost a week since Simon’s transport back to England. A week that you’ve spent at home again. The day you arrived at work to find Simon gone you went back to medical leave. Now as you sit on your couch and look out through your living room window you wonder if that was the best decision.

Simon’s sudden absence left you hollower than you anticipated. You spent barely a week by his side, most of which he was unconscious. So how come you care so damn much already?

You go through your usual routine. Making food, going outside, meeting friends, attending therapy, working on your mind and body. You do everything you did the past few weeks that helped you get back to your feet after Phillip but the worry for Simon won’t fade. It’s always there in the back of your head, a nagging feeling that leaves you thinking about him way more than you probably should.

Is he okay? Are they taking good care of him? Do they take it slow and take his trauma and needs into consideration? Does he have a handler that knows how to help him? How are his wounds?

You feel silly for caring so much about the large hybrid but another pitiful part of you whispers that it might prove that you’re a good person. Caring so much about someone you barely know surely proves that you have a good heart.

Then there’s another part that admonishes you for thinking that. No truly good person would think about whether their actions or thoughts make them a good person and you grow ashamed again. You try to shove all those thoughts somewhere in a corner of your mind where you don’t have to hear them constantly. The back and forth driving you insane without coming up with any conclusive answer.

You worry about him. That’s how it is. You care There is nothing you can do to change that except try not to think about him so much. But honestly you don’t want to stop thinking about him. Something about Simon struck your heart and you feel the need to figure out what.

You sigh as you nurse your mug with your favourite hot beverage in it, taking another slow sip savoring the taste. Has Simon ever had a drink like this? You sigh. Here you go again, thinking about the malinois hybrid without pause.

You let your head fall back against the backrest of the couch, staring at the ceiling. When did your home start feeling more like a self inflicted prison? There’s a restlessness growing in you. It’s starting deep in your stomach and spreads its way through your limbs making you bounce your knee until you almost spill your drink jerking your head back up to safe it at the last second.

Why did you go back to medical leave? You had been more than willing to return for Simon’s case. But as soon as he left you went back home like a snail hiding in it’s shell. You rest your elbows on your knees and let your head hang forward the muscles of your neck stretching uncomfortably.

You’re a damn coward. Resting at home. It doesn’t feel like healing anymore it feels like you’re running away. Running from the center and all the hybrids it houses. You hate it, hate Phillip for ruining all dog hybrids with just one attack. Why does he have the power to make you afraid of all of them. It’s not fair.

Do the others think you’re a coward as well? Hiding at home again after you came back for a week. What is management thinking? That you could return for an emergency but not for the relative calmness of every day? What will happen if you don’t come back quick enough for them? Will you lose your job? Would they actually fire you over something like this?

Just like that sitting at home feels like wasted time. Every minute spent on your couch is a minute you could be working and trying to get over your fear. And suddenly your certain that you have to return to work if you want to make further progress.

Additionally to your sudden urgency to just do something instead of sitting at home and licking your wounds the thought of everyone secretly judging your return to absence makes you feel itchy. But it’s your own judgment makes you the most uncomfortable. You can’t escape your own thoughts that remind you how cowardly you’re behaving. How you’re wasting away thinking about a hybrid who never even was your charge.

Thinking about a hybrid who you foolishly put a lot of hope into.

It makes no logical sense that you feel like Simon was your way back to working with hybrids. You had been sure that working with a problem hybrid would be the worst thing that could happen to you. You had been sure it would make you feel worse and undo everything you’ve achieved in therapy so far.

Now it feels like anyone other than the problem hybrid will hinder your recovery.

For a moment you feel selfish for wanting to gain something out of helping a hybrid. How can you think like that? Even if working with one stops your progress it would be worth it if you could help them. It’s not their job to help you. You’re supposed to help them, that’s what you’re being paid for, dammit. Helping them without gaining anything should be all you want.

Still it would be the best case scenario if working with one would also allow you to slowly get used to them again. It would be nice if the hybrid could help you too. And you decide that you can allow yourself that little bit of selfishness.

But even if that best case scenario were to happen. Before you can get anyone elses help you’ll have to want to help yourself.

The days of peacefully sitting on your couch letting the world outside continue to turn while you exist in your own little reality that consists of your home and the doctors office are over. You’ve had enough time off. It’s time to return to work. If you don’t your own thoughts that continue to run in circles will drive you insane.

No matter how often you dissect what happened with Phillip it won’t change what happened and maybe it’s time to accept that.

It’s probably best if you go back to the center today, before you lose your drive. And what better way to return than just going for lunch. Nice and casual. Nothing scary. At least that’s what you’re trying to convince yourself of as your palms immediately begin getting sweaty.

It’s tiring always being scared and even if it scares you more to go back, at least you’re doing something. You can’t take another second of sitting at home waiting to feel better while doing nothing.

A sudden burst of energy has you rushing all over your home while you get ready and sprint out of your front door before your nerves catch up to you.

You try your hardest not to second guess yourself as your unsteady hands hold the access card against the entrance of the compound. It opens with a beep and you rush through. When you stand in front of the main building you freeze. Your hands are shaking and you will yourself to breathe deeply.

There will be a lot of hybrids at the cafeteria, and suddenly your feet wont take another step. Flashes of teeth, dripping with vicious saliva, snapping and tearing at you appear in your mind. You’re certain that there’s an aggressive hybrid growling behind you but when you turn there’s no one there. Wincing you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to make you feel some semblance of safety.

You’ve already managed to come here and turning around to go back home feels like defeat. You can already taste it’s bitter tang just from thinking about not going through with your plan. For a moment you chew on your lower lip, indecisive then you look up at the building. Liz should be working right now. Maybe she’s willing to have her break with you.

Taking two steps at once, you rush up the stairs hoping you don’t meet anyone, especially no hybrid before you reach Liz’ office. Your heart pumps hectically while you strain your ears to make sure you’ll hear approaching steps over your harsh breathing. You’re lucky, getting there without running into anyone and you quickly slip inside without knocking.

Your heart swells at the way Liz positively beams at your appearance. It should not surprise you as much as it does when she immediately takes her break so she can go to the cafeteria with you. The way she links her arm with yours is so easy and natural that it makes you gulp suppressing the strong urge to hide behind her.

You grow more and more tense the closer you get to the cafeteria. Liz chattering fading to the background even if it’s her attempt to distract you. There are two hybrids and their handlers joining your direction. Luckily they’re concentrated on their handlers and the promise of food after training. The two of them don’t even give you any attention besides a quick glance.

When you realize that they won’t attack, you relax minutely. Everything is okay, you’re okay. The hybrids at the center are all friendly. Usually.

Aggressive Hybrids are very rare and they’re usually kept on leash. There’s various reasons why a handler might decide to keep their charge on a leash and none of the handlers here would let an aggressive hybrid roam free.

You almost manage to gain some control over your fear until you hear a sudden bark behind you. It’s loud and startling and you can feel your heart jump painfully in your chest.

You rip your arm away from Liz, whipping around. Fear clogs your throat and you can feel your eyes watering in sheer panic.

A golden retriever hybrid is running at you his steps slightly uneven. Where his left leg should be is a prosthetic attached but it does nothing to slow him down. His handler is further down the hallway and from the leash that loosely hangs from the hybrids collar it’s evident that he ripped himself free from his handlers hold.

His ears are perked up and flop with every step, his face lit up with obvious joy but it doesn’t help the terror that floods through you at the sight of him running at you. A very faint voice reminds you that you know this hybrid and he wouldn’t hurt you, but that voice is easily silence by the dread that overpowers everything.

He stretches his arms out to the side and Liz takes a step forward.

Before he reaches you, or Liz can step into his way you thrust out your hand out in front of yourself in sheer desperation.

“STOP!”

Alex skids to a halt like he just ran against a wall, having to shift his weight so he doesn’t fall. The prosthetic makes an awful screeching noise as it scrapes over the floor. His ears droop and his tail halts mid wag, uncertain what just happened. You’d feel bad at the obvious hurt in his expression if you weren’t so desperately harnessing your fear to shove it back into the dark corner it crawled from.

Panic squeezes your lungs and denies you access to your own breaths. You think you hear Liz tell Alex’ handler to wait when he goes to grab Alex’ leash but you concentrate on regulating your wheezing breaths, your hand still outstretched to halt Alex.

The golden hybrid looks at you and takes a few small steps on the spot he’s glued to. His nostrils flare and he cocks his head at you.

“You’re afraid of me?” He half asks half states and the devastation in his voice rips your heart right in two. A whine makes its way from his chest and you shake your head. You panic retreating at the need to reassure and calm the hybrid. He did nothing wrong and here you are, hurting him by panicking.

“No! I’m not scared of you.” You say even if you’re not sure whether that’s true. But you need to say something, anything to stop the hurt in his eyes. He cocks his head at you in question.

“Just got spooked from the way your ran at me.”

He visibly perks back up at that, his tail slowly starting to wag again even if it’s decidedly less enthusiastic than before. Then it slowly gains momentum, getting quicker and stronger until his entire body wriggles with his joy and the sight steals a small smile from you.

“I only wanted to hug you. I haven’t seen you in forever. I promise I won’t rush. May I hug you?” He asks with so much hope in his voice that you can’t say no.

Briefly you scan his body language, finding nothing but excitement and restraint so you nod even if the way your blood rushes through you is almost painful.

Alex stays true to his word, slowly steps forward, opening his arms for you and waits until you mirror the gesture. Then he wraps his bulky frame around you, squeezing you to his chest. Immediately he pushes his face against you and takes a deep breath, smelling you. His mustache tickles you and you squirm giggling inadvertently.

He rumbles deep in his chest, huffs in displeasure at your movements which only makes you giggle and squirm more. Your fear slowly retracts its claws from your chest, hissing in displeasure at your entire being remembering Alex as safe.

You can feel him relax right along with you. Until all that is left is warmth and contentment. The close contact to him after weeks of staying away as far as possible from any and all hybrids fills your chest with warmth choking you up slightly. After you allow yourself to bask in his hug for as long as you deem acceptable and after you swallow your tears back down, you step back and shake your head at him fondly.

“You know that this is exactly why you’re still on leash. Always so easily distracted rushing off to investigate whatever scent you caught. Although I’m honored I’m the distraction this time.”

He folds his ears back and the chuckle of his handler reminds you of his and Liz presence. The man, Chad, steps forward and gently cuffs the back of Alex head. The hybrid playfully snaps in the direction of his fingers. You nearly flinch until you remind yourself that this is Alex and he’s just playing.

“Lucky for him we’re not training right now and you’re a very special distraction. It’s good to see you again.”

You remember the day you left Alex as his charge, a mixture of pride and pain in your chest. You’d worked months with Alex after he lost his leg in an explosion during a mission. You’d helped him regain his agility and confidence and it was only normal that you developed a deep bond with the hybrid.

It was always a happy occasion when a hybrid got to go back to having a work handler and you shake Chads outstretched hand with a warm smile. As you make your way into the cafeteria you try to concentrate on Alex and his handler, who’s taken his leash in hand again.

“We get to go back to the real work next week.” Alex tells you puffing his chest and pride blooms in your own chest. You know how much his work means to him and it will be great to see him leave the center after a year and a half of working hard to get back in shape. Still the thought stings a little.

You’ll miss him. He’s been one of your favorite charges and even after you left him in Chad’s capable hands - so they could work and train to become a team while Alex fully regained his abilities - it was nice to meet him in the hallways and outside on the training grounds.

You try to concentrate on the joy instead. He’ll get to go back to doing what he loves and you wonder when you’ll be able to do the same. With the way you currently need to check every hybrid around you for any sign of aggression you don’t see any possibility of you taking on a new charge soon.

With Simon it had been easy. He’d been an emergency which left not enough time to think, to doubt, to get lost in your fear. Now that he’s gone you have too much time to cook up all the worst case scenarios in your head again.

While you try to have lunch without always looking around like a spooked rabbit you get to watch Chad and Alex interact and their easy camaraderie and banter makes you jealous. It makes you overly aware of the fact that you’re unable to interact with a hybrid like that at the moment.

But you love this job. You love working with them and helping them and developing all these bonds. Harshly you stab your fork into the food. Even if it takes forever, you will be able to do it again.

As if to mock you the scar on your shoulder throbs at the aggressive movement and you subconsciously reach up, pressing against it. Alex turns his head towards you from his place besides you. You give him a small tight lipped smile.

He says nothing, but under the table he moves his leg until his thigh touches you and you stare down at the contact.

The next day you join Alex and Chad while training at their insistence the day before. They’re all too eager to show off their hard work to you and it’s almost mesmerizing the way they clear the obstacle course together.

The centers agility course is a jungle of platforms that are raised over the ground with obstacles in between. The platforms vary from the size of your hand to a square meter and some are slanted to test the balance.

They can be roughly divided into two heights one being a few centimeters above the ground while the second level is mostly at two meters with platforms of varying heights in between. There is no designated path through the course which allows a handler to challenge a hybrid with new angles at already well known obstacles.

The slight tugs Chad gives on the leash help Alex to find the right footing while he concentrates on sniffing out the hidden object. You.

You’re crouched behind an obstacle that’s on the second level, keeping out of sight. You peek at the pair of them moving through the course stopping at a point where you doubled back to confuse Alex.

The single minded focus of the hybrid is admirable but also dangerous out in the field. In the field concentrating on nothing besides what he’s supposed to sniff out means running into the line of fire, stepping onto a contact mine or whatever other horrible things wait for them in the field. That is why he’s connected to Chad with the leash.

You almost shout a warning, your heart leaping into your throat, when Alex lifts his head to track your scent not watching the small platforms under his feet. You can already see his foot miss the next platform but Chad gives a gentle tug and Alex rights his direction without looking down.

His foot finds the platform and you exhale heavily with relief. You can only continue watching in awe. You’d known that Chad was a good handler. While working with Philip you had often seen the two of them train but you always had your own hybrid to concentrate on so you never got to appreciate the incredible team these two make.

Alex finds you easily while Chad watches over him, clearing his path, making sure he doesn’t get hurt while he concentrates on his work and when Alex finds you in record time, you can’t help but clap and holler in excitement.

Chad ruffles Alex hair and the golden retriever hybrid beams with pride. His tail wags a mile a minute and when you’re all back down on the ground he does a few silly circles on the spot giving an excited bark which makes Chad laugh.

A deep feeling of peace settles over you. This is what it’s supposed to be like. A soft smile sneaks onto your lips. Watching Chad and Alex is weirdly healing, reminding you of what a healthy hybrid handler relationship looks like. You have been able to build one with every charge you’ve had besides Phillip. And with him it wasn’t because you didn’t try.

For the first time fear isn’t the first emotion bubbling up when you think about Phillip. This time it’s sadness. In his chase for his independence he sold his soul to someone else. But you don’t think that the proud hybrid realized that. He probably didn’t realize that the gesture of attacking you was empty considering the reasons for it. It proved jack shit. But hey at least he got what he wanted in the end.

Even that thought doesn’t chase the sadness away. So you concentrate back on Chad and Alex and you realize you’re a little less frustrated with yourself when you go to bed that evening. You got to work with a hybrid again and it had went well. Things will get better after all.

After the day you spent with Alex you come back to work for good. You do not have your own charge at the moment but you try to be useful in every way you can. Instead of working with a hybrid you start helping with the equipment, running errands and giving the other handlers advice that you feel not qualified to give considering how long you’ve been absent and the reason for your absence.

The way you try to avoid running into hybrids makes you feel ashamed of yourself once more but you don’t have it in you to just casually cross paths with them. It’s so stupid, the way one hybrid ruined every hybrid for you. You’re determined to change that, to not see a threat in every hybrid but maybe… maybe not today.

You duck around the corner as you spot a hybrid walking down the hallway with her handler and press yourself against the wall counting down from ten to calm yourself. It’s frustrating as hell that interacting with Alex didn’t magically heal you.

Why could one hybrid not heal the wounds of one other hybrid? Your pulse still jumps at every hybrid you see. You still try to hide instead of normally passing them. And you grow frustrated with yourself. Healing sucks. It’s hard to understand why books and movies always seem to picture it as this magical beautiful journey when most of the time it feels like running in circles and standing in your own way.

How would things be if Simon was still here? Would you walk the hallways unafraid with his large form looming next to you? Maybe if he’d become your charge you would feel better already.

You shake your head. Thinking about that doesn’t help you, you try to remind yourself. Simon’s in England and there isn’t anything you can do.

You peek around the corner, seeing that the hybrid is gone you continue on your way, glad that the tiles help you hear when someone’s approaching. You look at the stack of papers in your arms and almost scoff at yourself. Running errands instead of doing what you actually get paid for.

But with Simon gone you don’t know how you’re supposed to jump into the deep end and take the position as a handler again.

You should have known. You should have known it would come back to bite you in the ass that you didn’t sign the handler agreement. Maybe with that you could have been transferred with Simon and stayed by his side for the time it will take for him to be able to go back to active duty.

Apparently the Doc had asked for the papers that prove that Simon is your charge so she could have you called to the center before he left. When she called the office they had to tell her that no such papers were signed.

You’re lucky that the Doc hasn’t told anyone that you lied to gain access to his medical report. At least you don’t think she has or someone would have approached you about it by now. It still might happen and you’re unsure whether you should talk to her about it before you possibly get a lawsuit.

Thinking about that does nothing to calm your racing heart and you almost flee inside Liz’ office when it comes into view as if her presence will shield you from your own thoughts and feelings as well.

You drop the stack of papers on her desk and she sighs, pushing up her glasses and meets you eyes.

“I should probably thank you but honestly, how dare you bring this to me instead of accidentally spilling coffee all over them.”

Hearing Liz who enjoys the office work say something like that startles a laugh out of you and she grins.

“One of those days?” You ask and she nods, stretches her arms over her head and groans when her back audibly pops.

She takes her smoothie and slurps it through her straw. “You know I looked into it for you. But there is no way for us to obtain any information on Simon’s well being. I’m sorry.”

You plop down into the empty chair before her desk and crane your neck until you’re staring at the ceiling. “Yeah. I already expected that. If only I had signed those damned papers.”

You catch Liz shrug out of your peripheral vision. “Well with the English laws being the way they are it’s not certain that would have done anything either.”

Lazily you let your head roll forward. “Hm?”

“Ah, right. You only do the hands on work. The hybrid-handler laws in England demand the hybrid to sign an agreement too for the handler-hybrid relationship to have legal effect. So your signature alone would probably not give you any information on him anyway.”

“Oh.” You think about it. You know the English laws are different but you never looked into it since they don’t concern you, at least they never did until now. Either way you will never know what’s become of Simon and it frustrates you.

“Well, it is what it is.” You say resigned and put your hands on your knees to push yourself up. If only you could mean that. “Back to running errands I go.”

Before you can leave the room Liz’ voice stops you. “You have to take on a charge again at some point.”

You half turn to her smiling, even though you don’t feel like smiling at all. “Exactly. ‘At some point.’ That point is not now. It’s barely been a few days of me being back.”

She shakes her head at you and you’d be embarrassed or angry at her disappointed expression but you know it’s because she cares. “Why are you so damn hesitant? You were fully ready to take Simon as charge?”

You purse your lips in thought, turning to her fully. “With him it was easy. I didn’t have time to imagine all the things that could go wrong. Just ‘bam here’s this hybrid you have to take care of’. Now that he’s gone I have too much time to think about what it means to take on a new charge.”

Liz clicks her tongue. “Maybe I’ll just drop a hybrid at your doorstep so you don’t have time to think.”

You gasp in mock offense. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.” She says dryly and you’re not sure if she’s still joking. So you laugh it off while fleeing her office before she decides to make any more valid points.

That better have been a joke or you’d strangle her. And then thank her because thinking about it - dropping a hybrid at your doorstep might actually work. Your close the door, turn to walk back down the hallway and almost walk into Meg from HR.

“Oh good. I was looking for you.”

You gulp. Oh no. Did the Doc rat you out after all? Would they fire you? Shit. You rub your palms against your pants. Did you do anything wrong? What if she knows you lied to get the Doc to talk about Simon? Would they file a lawsuit because of something like that?

“Follow me.” She says curtly and you nod, too startled and scared to get a simple yes out. Walking behind her through the hallway makes you feel like you’re walking to your own execution and you thank whoever is listening that you don’t run into any hybrids. You’re not sure your heart could handle any more anxiety.

The clicking of her door closing while she indicates for you to sit down at her desk sounds like a threat and when you sit you rub your sweaty palms against your thighs.

She sits down on her side of the desk and clicks something on her computer then she looks at you seriously and you feel like you’ll be in serious trouble in a few second. Hopefully you won’t cry, that would be embarrassing.

She sighs. “Do you remember the aggressive hybrid you were called in for from your leave?”

You nod and this time you manage to weakly say: “Yes.” Oh no. Oh no no no no. Pleas no.

She taps a pen against her chin and studies you. “You know we really hoped you could take another charge soon so management isn’t the happiest about it but we were promised a substitute and compensation so we decided to leave it up to you.”

Is she doing this on purpose? Dragging it out? What substitute? What the hell is going on?

“We got a request for you from the center in England he is currently at. They want you to work there with him for however long it takes to get him back on his feet. You’re one of our best even if you’re currently not exactly fitting your job description. I heard you got along well with him.” Something in her gaze softens at her last statement and you release your held breath a heavy weight dropping off your shoulders.

She doesn’t know about the papers. It feels like your heart can finally get a break. But then everything she said hits you and you start nervously bouncing your leg. They requested you? You’re sure they have more than enough handlers at the center he’s currently at. Surely they have competent personnel?

“Why… did they request me?” You carefully ask, not sure you’re allowed to ask any questions. Which is absurd if you think about it because of course you’re allowed to ask questions if she specifically called you to her office to give you a choice.

She purses her lips and twirls the pen in her fingers. “Apparently he’s giving them trouble. They don’t know what to do and found out he was more comfortable with you. Usually they would just give a problematic hybrid like him a medical discharge from his duties but apparently he’s a big enough asset for them to reach out to us.”

You nod trying to understand. What happened? Things hadn’t looked that bad. What had happened that Simon is once again deemed a problematic? Are you willing to go to England for an unknown amount of time because they ask you to? It might be months until he’s rehabilitated.

Your thoughts return to the few moments you had with him. You remember him in the bath, the way he’d let you dry his hair. The way you felt like you might overcome your fear with him. Maybe you don’t have to try with another hybrid. Maybe Simon is meant to be your charge so you can both help each other. This might be what you’ve been waiting for without knowing.

You’re a bit unsettled by how quick you’ve come to your decision. You should probably think this through more but you’d sign the handler papers in a heartbeat. That reminds you…

“What about him? Don’t the laws in England demand that he agrees with me being his handler?”

She nods, rifles through a stack of paper on her table and finally finds what she’s looking for. She folds the stapled stack of papers open on the last page and slides it over her desk towards you. At the bottom two lines for signatures sit.

“He already signed signed.”

You stare at the line where his name sits in neat block writing. You can’t help yourself but run your finger over it. Your heart thumps hectically in your chest. He already agreed to you being his handler. All you have to do is sign as well. You try to come up with all the logical questions and things that should make you hesitate.

“What about housing and stuff?” You hate how you say ‘stuff’ like you don’t know what you’re talking about. Your thoughts are rushing. You have a hard time getting a hold of them. Taking care of contracts and the whole organizational stuff was never your strong suit. Your strong suit is working with hybrids, at least you thought so until Phillip. But the fact that Simon apparently wants you as his handler makes the smallest bit of confidence grow.

They want you in England because whatever happened makes them think you can help him. Whatever he said makes them think you’re who they have to turn to. You can do this. This is also what the hybrid wants. What will happen to Simon if you refuse?

Meg rips you from your thoughts. “They board and lodge their staff if they chose to live on site.”

You nod and then hold your hand out for the pen.

“Are you sure?” Meg asks and hesitantly gives in to you. You scribble your signature on the line next to Simon’s.

“Yes.” You say. Actually you aren’t sure at all. It’s probably stupid to sign so quickly when you haven’t asked a lot of important questions but if you don’t sign now you’ll think about it and then fear will claw at your chest and prevent you from going for it. Maybe it’s stupid and reckless. But it feels right.

Meg shrugs and takes the paper with your signature back. “Alright. Simon Riley is officially your new charge. They want you over there as quickly as possible so you should take the earliest flight you can. We’ll prepare your papers and request your substitute.”

Liz is gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles are stark white. Your knee is bouncing again and she glances at you from the corner of her eyes every now and then. She insisted on driving you to the airport and you’re very thankful despite arguing at first that she doesn’t have to.

“What is it?” You ask and now both your legs are bouncing.

Her hands shift on the wheel before gripping hard again. “Are you sure about this?”

You sigh and put your face in your hands. “No.” You mumble. She has the audacity to laugh at that. You shoot her a look and then start laughing too. What the hell are you doing? You’re about to fly to a whole other continent for a hybrid you don’t even really know.

She shrugs but her hands relax. “We can still cancel it all. I’ll kidnap you, no one will ever know that you tucked your tail and ran.”

That makes you laugh harder and you shake your head resting it back against the headrest. “I feel insane for this but I couldn’t say no. Maybe I’ll end up regretting this but maybe… Maybe everything will work out? What if this is what I need? A problem hybrid in a whole other country who wants me as his handler.”

Liz purses her lips. “I don’t know. I’ve never known you to be so impulsive but if you feel like you have to do this I won’t stop you. But if I receive word that you want to come back and don’t want to do this after all, I’ll terminate the contract and personally come get your ass back to the US.”

You snort at that but something in you calms down. Despite her joking tone you know that she means every word. You look at her for a while and it hits you that you don’t know how long you’ll be in England. Who knows when you’ll be in the same room as her again.

“Thank you.” You say quietly and Liz just nods.

The rest of the ride is comfortably quiet.

At the airport she squeezes you tightly and helps you with your luggage. Before you know it you’re on the plane and taking off. Your whole body starts getting jittery with nerves. You breathe deeply remembering one of the exercises your therapist gave you. She offered to keep holding your sessions online and you’re incredibly thankful for it.

You manage to calm down during the flight and even sneak in a nap, waking up with a racing heart to the announcement that the plane is on approach. As soon as you touch ground and have permission to use your phone you text Liz to let her know that you landed safely.

Half an hour later you’re in a cab going for the rehabilitation center you’ll stay at for an unknown amount of time. You wipe your hands on your pants thankful that the cab driver doesn’t try to make conversation so you can look out the window at the darkness of the evening.

It’s weird to think about how much more of the day Liz has left while it’s already very late evening here.

The street lights illuminate parts of the road and you feel like you’re dying inside from all the uncertainty of what is to come. You wish the drive would never end so you can’t arrive at the center. Alternatively you’d be happy with a concise list of what exactly will happen and who exactly you’ll meet. You get neither an endless ride nor a list. Sooner than you’d like the cab stops and you’re left with your gigantic luggage on the sidewalk.

You sincerely hope no one watches the awkward waddle you do while dragging your heavy bag with you to the front gate. Your wishes go unnoticed because someone approaches you quickly and you straighten up your heart jumping into your throat.

When the person is finally close enough for you to make them out clearly your breath hitches and you can’t help but look at him with wide eyes. He’s a snake hybrid. You’ve never seen one before and even if you’re aware of how rude it is you can’t stop staring.

“Welcome! You’re the handler from America, right?” He greets you and you gape at him nodding. He has a split tongue. The street lamps illuminate him dimly and if you aren’t mistaken the faint outline of scales is visible at his temples and his jaw.

He waits a moment and then slightly squirms under your scrutiny. “Ah. Am I your first snake hybrid?”

That manages to shake you out of it and you nod mumbling an apology. He easily hoists up your baggage onto his shoulder and opens a door in the gate with a key card.

“Don’t worry. I get that reaction with most people. We’re all really happy that you’re here. Simon has been… difficult to say the least.” The snake hybrid goes on and you can’t help but wonder how he knows so much. Who is he? Is he the companion hybrid of one of the handlers here?

You’re staring again while you follow him and his shoulders tense. “Oh! I forgot to introduce myself. How silly. I’m Nathair but please call me Nate.”

You give him your name in return and he stops for a moment to extend his hand for you to shake before continuing his way towards a large building. Before you can get a good look at the way it’s structured Nate leads you through the entrance door and towards a reception desk.

Smoothly he slides behind it sorting some papers and putting them in a folder then he gets a key card and stands again. He extends the folder to you and you take it before Nathair rounds the desk again, takes up your luggage once more and makes his way down a hallway. You hurry to follow.

“Those are some papers we need signed, some information like a map and the rules of our center. I also included Simon’s file.”

Suddenly your interest is piqued. “Where is he?”

Nate turns down another hallway and you already know it will take a while before you’re comfortable with the layout of the center. Thank god for the map.

“He’s being kept in a safety room where he will stay until he is ready to join you.”

“Join me?” You have to jog a few steps to keep up with Nate’s quick pace and when he notices he slows down. Here in the light of the building you can get a good look at him.

He’s magnificent. Broad shoulders, copper coloured hair and a dusting of dark reddish brows freckles that get denser towards his temples and fade into a few scattered scales. His skin is pale and along his jaw fading down his neck you can make out some more scales.

His eyes are big and round and something about them is slightly off. You can’t say exactly what it is though. The hands which are holding up your luggage are strong but slender and on the back of them you can once again see reddish brown scales disappear under his sleeves.

“Yes. Join you. Hybrids and handlers share their rooms here but with Simon being the way he is we didn’t deem it safe enough to bring him to the general housing wing yet. “

Suddenly you feel stupid again. You really agreed too quickly without enough information. You didn’t even know about the rooming situation. You straighten your shoulders. It’s too late now and it’s not like you would decide differently if you were given the choice again.

“This one’s yours.” Nate finally stops in front of a door. Right on the door, engraved in a small plastic plate, is your name. You swallow nervously as Nate unlocks it and puts your baggage down inside against the wall next to the entrance.

You walk in and a small smile blooms on your face. It’s cosy. Not so small that it feels cramped but not big enough to make you feel lost in it either. The curtains are drawn over the windows and there is even a small kitchenette cramped into the corner next to one of the windows.

On the right side nestled into a corner is a decently sized desk and on the left opposite to it is the bed pushed against the wall.

You walk in looking through an open door on the right side at the end of the room. It’s the bathroom. At the far end of the tiled room you see another door. Once you’ve scanned every corner you turn back to ask Nate about the door and you catch him with his split tongue out. He blushes a brilliant red under his freckles and lifts his hand to rub the back of his head.

“Ah… sorry. I was just smelling the room.” He sheepishly admits and you cock your head at him in curiosity.

“I smell better with my mouth and tongue than I do with my nose and I wanted to get your scent.”

You laugh at the embarrassed expression on his face and he turns even redder which makes you shake your head and put your hands up. “No, no! I’m not laughing at you!”

You take a step in his direction. “Nate, I work with dog hybrids for a living. I’m used to being smelled.”

He seems taken aback by that then he grins. “Do you mind then?”

You shake your head and Nate takes a step closer his split tongue testing the air for a few moments before he steps back and nods. “Thank you. Not knowing how someone smells feels like I don’t fully know who they are. Like I never saw a their face.”

You nod. “If I say I understand that I’d be lying because I obviously do not experience these things like you do. But it makes sense, no need to be embarrassed.”

He seems happy with that and looks around the room. His eyes settle on another door in the middle of the right wall. He steps towards it.

“Through this you’ll get to Simon’s room. It’s exactly the same as yours just mirrored. His room also shares the bathroom with yours.”

Ah that’s the other door you noticed in the bathroom. Curiously you open it and look into Simon’s room. Just like Nate says it’s a perfectly mirrored version of yours. But it’s empty and suddenly you can’t stay a moment longer here without having seen Simon. You need to make sure he’s okay.

“Nate. Where is Simon? Can I see him?”

The snake hybrid once again scratches the back of his head. “It’s already late.”

“Please. I need to know he’s okay. I came all this way specifically for him.”

Nate looks at you for a long moment and whatever he sees in your expression makes him sigh and relent.

Your ribcage hurts from the violent beats of your heart as you follow Nate through the building. He leads you down so many turns that you’re sure you won’t find your way back on your own.

The fact that all the hallways look basically the same doesn’t help your orientation but all you think about is seeing Simon again. He’s probably mostly healed by now. Will he be excited to see you? After all he signed the agreement first.

Nate leads you down the corridor to a seeming dead end but when you get closer you see that there is actually a door at the end. You both stop before it and the snake hybrid gets his key card.

“Would you like me to go in first and make sure he’s calm?” He asks and you immediately shake your head.

“It will be fine.”

Nate presses his lips into a thin line but nods and unlocks the door. You wipe your palms on your pants the excitement of seeing him again almost overwhelming you. You’re here and he is here and everything will be fine.

The door opens and you step into the room. Simon’s on his feet at the other end and oh, he looks spectacular. You’ve been separated long enough that his health noticeably progressed during that time.

His ears perk forward and Nate slips into the room besides you, closing the door.

Seeing Simon standing on his own without any struggle fills you with relief and your eyes with tears. Physically he already looks so much better than you remember him and the joy of that realization almost makes you shake.

“It’s you.” He rumbles and you cannot restrain yourself anymore taking hasty steps in his direction. Giddy that he’s alive and on his feet and looks well. Everything will work out after all. You’ll take care of each other.

You realize your mistake too late, blinded by the happiness. Time seems to almost slow to a halt. For a moment Simon’s eyes widen, then his tail bristles and his ears press against his head, his lips peel back revealing his dangerous canines.

Your heart stops but you’re mere steps from him and before you can stop the malinois hybrid charges the last steps that separate you.

“No!” Nate shouts somewhere behind you but you barely hear it over the ringing in your ears.

Simon barrels into you, throwing you to the floor and your head cracks against the tiles making pain explode all over the back of it. Simon’s honey coloured eyes are narrowed in aggression and his growl rattles your bones. His big body presses you against the cold hard floor uncomfortably. Every bone aching from the fall.

His teeth flash and you barely have the time to throw up your arms, crossing them in front of you to shield your face and neck. His fangs sink into your forearm. The intensity of the pain almost makes you cry out and you grunt.

Your eyes widen as you look up at Simon’s expression, nose scrunched as he grinds his teeth deeper into your arm until you feel like he’ll break right through your bones. He’s growling like he wants to kill you. His broad shoulders block out the room behind him. All you can see is his vicious snarl and angry eyes.

For some reason it’s the trickle of blood running down to your elbow that catches your attention. How funny, you think, that your own blood can tickle you like this.

[ikrutt]

Portrait commission for @jabberwick.

[uglygirltrying]

wolf-hybrid!simon x bunny-hybrid!reader | PT2 | pt1 | pt3 |

he did show you. it was so much warmer, than in your burrow.

it was easy to feel safe and warm enough, in his big arms, to eventually fall asleep. even if he was the hunter, your natural predator, you were basking in a warm hole, filled with his musk. your head went mush and fuzzy, eyes fluttering shut.

the wolf grinned and chuckled above you. what a silly bunny. your legs twitched, as you slowly went under. so compliant, no arguing when he took you, and you so easily went limp in his arms.

oh, you were going to be so much fun when the spring comes. maybe you'd be even more submissive, or on the other hand, maybe you'd get snappy. that'd be fun, simon thought.

he can already imagine the little bunny in heat, constantly rubbing against him, begging for a litter. if he feels nice, he might even give you one. simon smirks at the thought. such a sweet thing you are.

simon felt reluctant to leave. what if you ran? well, he would surely find you, after breathing your scent in so much. but still, it would be a lot of trouble, to track you, and catch you again. he didn't want to go through all of that trouble. he didn't want you to run.

simon signed. he had to find food. some meat for himself, and maybe some bark for you. but he knew that you didn't have a strong enough reason to stay. a warm den? you surely could find another one around. a mate? not really, he basically just snatched you up, against your will. maybe if you fought more, he would feel guilty. but this, this felt like a love story. he found you, brought you home, and here you are, sleeping in his den.

he did have time to linger and think. he did hunt best in the dark after all. simon breathed out again. whatever, he thought. you could run. he'd catch you, and bring you back. whatever.

simon sat up, leaving the bunny girl to lay there. he crawled out of the den, and made his way to the surface. the sun is setting, the rays creating shadows of the surrounding birch trees. the snowfall has stopped. it's so quiet and calm. the snow is beautifully set and hard surfaced, glistening in the light.

the wolf stood up, and began his search for food.

you felt disoriented. where were you? this isn't your burrow. your eyes slowly opened, drowsy, and confused. with a croaky groan, it hit you. where you were. why, and how.

you sniffed the air. the smell is so much lighter now. with a confused expression, you looked around the den. you're alone. huh?

why? where is he? is he hiding behind the opening, waiting to spook you and punish you, when you try to leave?

he's gone. it's your chance now. you can go, leave, run back home, to your burrow. the den is colder without his body pressed against you. it's almost as cold as your burrow. oh. it's warmer here. even without him.

it almost feels shameful to even hesitate leaving. you should! but you can't. you can't get yourself to crawl out and run for your life. how would he feel, coming back, into a empty den? a nest. that feels like an bad word. it's not your nest, not even your den. you're just... there.

why can't you leave? it's his fault, of course, he must've done something to you... are you feverish, why won't you run? maybe you're sick... running would only make that worse. and there's a perfectly good bed just under you.

you sighed. how pitiful. you laid back down. how embarrassing. but it felt so good, to just lay. don't you have a backbone? it would feel better if... it would be warmer. maybe even safer. if he was there. but is he even your protector. is this den a trap, why isn't he here?

thinking felt overwhelming. or maybe it was just the topic. but it felt exhausting. you should just not think. just lay there, and hope for his return. pathetic.

simon's hands were full of bark. he already ate his meal. he didn't want to bring anything bloody into the den, it would surely disturb you. if you even were still there.

simon scoffed. it's useless to assume. he doesn't know anything about you. maybe you're waiting behind the opening, a rock in hand, waiting for him to stick his head in, so you can punish him, for taking you.

he sniffed the air. nobody else is around. at least not around the hole in the hill. the snow's surface was untouched, not counting his own footprints. maybe you were still there. hopefully you were asleep. sweet, and compliant. maybe you were awake, desperately waiting for him to come back and keep you warm.

he almost smirked at his own fantasies. how silly. you already have him dreaming. oh, he is hooked, simon chuckled.

with hands full of bark, just for you, simon stood above the entrance of his den. might as well barge in. and so he did. simon crawled into his den. and there you were. still asleep. in his nest. the wolf felt proud. he kept you around. here he was, bringing you food, while you just slept. that's how it's meant to be.

simon dropped the bark in a corner of the den. he almost rushed. he wanted to cuddle up next to you, hold you in his arms, keep you warm, and protect you. at light speed, he had crawled next to you.

even in your sleepy state, he had managed to startle you. you're eyes narrowed open.

"go back to sleep, bun..." he softly murmured to you. with a tired nod of your head, you closed your eyes, and fell back asleep.

it made simon chuckle. you will never have a reason to complain again. you're his now, after all. his.

either this is my magnum opus, or im delusional ;( heart banner by @roseschoices

taglist: @famouscattale @nappingmoon @distinguishedprincesstrash @tame-the-lion-writes @s-a-v-a-n-a-34

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - non/con, manipulation, mentions of breeding, and unbalanced power dynamics.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's ecstatic the day his owner, Suguru, brings you home. He's the pinnacle of a spoiled pet, constantly showered in toys and treats and affection, but his owner's a busy man, and he tends to sulk when left home alone. He's had other companions before, another leopard hybrid who nearly killed him before being released back into the wild and a black panther who somehow proved to be a worse influence on Satoru than Satoru was on her, but you're supposed to be more permanent solution, another hosuepet to keep him company when Suguru can't. You're a sweet little housecat, all wide-eyes and raised ears, but still, Suguru wouldn't be surprised if you're begging to go back to the shelter less than an hour after meeting your new roommate.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who falls in love with you immediately. Suguru practically has to keep him in a chokehold while you explore your new home, eventually curling up on your new bed. Satoru's on top of you as soon as he gets loose, purring obnoxiously while he runs his bristled tongue over your cheek. Suguru's half-convinced that your first day's going to end with bloody claws and bandages, but you only nuzzle into his chest and knead at the blankets underneath you. Satoru's a difficult cat to put up with, and Suguru's relieved that you, at least, find him tolerable.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's absolutely massive compared to you. The tips of your pointed ears barely reach his collarbones, and your wrist is only as thick as his fluffy tail. His favorite hobby quickly becomes carrying you from room to room despite your softly mewled protests, and he's not happy unless he's pressed against you as closely as possible. He used to force himself into Suguru's lap whenever possible, but now, he's unbearable unless you're sitting pretty in his. He doesn't even complain when you lose your temper and dig your little fangs (barely half the size of his - a poor imitation of a real predator's) into his arm, just grinning as he tugs at your ears and pinches your cheeks. He's not exactly a wild animal, but he's still at the top of his food chain. You're not quite a mouse, but you might as well be, compared to him.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's calling you his mate after less than a full month. You don't know what it means, often parroting it back as more of a question than a term of endearment, and Suguru just brushes it off as Satoru being deliberately irritating. He keeps it up, though. even after you start refusing to respond to it.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who starts introducing you to new "games". You know you don't stand a chance against him, but somehow, he always manages to goad you into roughhousing, into squirming as he pins you under his full weight. He likes to dangle things above your head, to see how long it takes your instincts to get the best of you before your chest is pressed against his and you're pouting so adorably as you jump and bat at his hand. Sometimes, when you fall asleep mid-grooming session, he'll let his mouth wander lower than it should, and you'll wake up to his tongue lapping over your chest, his face buried between your thighs in a way that leaves you teary-eyed and warm. You've tried to tell Suguru, but you always get embarrassed and end up mumbling something as vague as 'Satoru's being mean to me, again.' In the end, Satoru only ever gets a slap on the wrist and a new reason to tease you, next time Suguru turns his back.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who fucks you whenever Suguru isn't home. He planned on waiting for your first heat (delayed by your shelter suppressants and the stress of a new home), and he knows he's not supposed to, but he just can't get enough of having your smaller body curled up underneath his, your tail thrashing from side to side as he lazily rolls his hips against yours. You tend to whine, at first, to go on and on about how weird it feels and how much it hurts, but as soon he gets his cock inside of you, all those complaints tend to go away. It's almost funny, how easily your stupid little kitty mind gets all hazy and cockdrunk. He always loves you, but he loves you most when you're drooling and purring for his cum, begging him to breed you properly between hitched moans.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's not even mad when Suguru catches him bouncing your half-conscious, fucked-out body on his cock. He wants to be the best possible mate for you, and he couldn't do that if he wasn't willing to show you off <3

[grabby-smitten]

Concrete Jungle: King of the beasts

Summary: Buying a hybrid was not what you had in mind when you asked for independence. Sylus didn’t like humans but his owner was the exception.

Subjects: Albino lion Hybrid!Sylus x F!Reader

Word count: 4.1k+

Content Warnings: Hybrid AU, smut, owner reader, kissing, cunnilingus, P in V, breeding, cnc if u squint really hard, biting, textured tongue. Use of words like predator/prey, cunt, pussy, kitten. Not edited and no beta.

A.N: I learned that big cats can’t purr and I was so disappointed. Oh, well….ah! I might do one for each li. k bye 💋

“Are you sure, I need one?” You’ve asked your parents that question for the umpteenth time.

“Yes, a hybrid is a good caretaker and it would make us feel better knowing one is protecting you.” Your father answered with a tired smile, understanding your uneasiness but they weren’t going to change their mind.

Moving out and finally becoming independent was just one step away from happening. Your parents were against it at first. Coming from money means someone will always be after your trail, danger and they had overprotected you, their only daughter since… well, even before you were born. They weren’t able to have natural children so you were conceived through artificial methods. Which, according to your parents, was a whole ordeal and suffering. Details that you rather not know.

It was time, though, to deep your toes into a world of your own. You wanted freedom for once. No dozens of bodyguards, no tracking devices and no fear of the unknown.

The part of convincing your parents was hard. No, after no, after no. Until, the head of security, taking pity on you, suggested buying a hybrid for you. Not just any hybrid; one specially made to protect and serve.

Now it was your turn to profoundly refuse. Everyone had one and those who didn’t, desired one… like some kind of accessory. It sickened you and besides, you didn’t want another responsibility. You wanted your own life! Not taking care of some… dog? Cat? Fish?

In the end, you had no other choice but to agree and here you were, in some facility. Breeding facility? Training? You didn’t care enough to pay attention, honestly.

Walking behind your parents in an all-white hall, smelling like antiseptic and gagging at the chemical sensation in your throat, you started to notice how the white walls began to turn into cages. Placards hung in the walls near the tinted glass and steel bars of the cages with descriptions of the… hybrids?

Looking up from the labels, you finally realized you no longer were alone. Each cell was occupied by humanoid-shaped shadows. The tint of the reinforced glass obstructed your vision but it was clear they were there.

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize a couple of strangers had joined your family. Paying a bit more attention to their chatter, you concluded they were doctors or scientists from this facility. They were explaining something about their products and that it was the best the market could offer. You frowned at their words. It was like you were buying a car… they even explained the insurance policy.

“And this specimen, right here, is our finest hybrid!” One of the men talking to your parents loudly explained.

You stepped closer to the placard and read the few words it contained. ‘Albino Lion Hybrid (Panthera leo Hybrid, large cat family Felidae). Apex predator (no natural enemy known). Renowned king of the beasts. More active at night. Preferable habitats: grassland, dense scrub, savanna, and open woodland. Nomadic male.’

Your eyes widened once your brain processed the information. This was no guard dog or house cat. Before you could utter a complaint about how obnoxious this all was, the tinted glass cleared and you were looking straight into a pair of scarlet eyes.

Sylus almost laughed at the face of the female standing outside his cell. The little mouse seemed in shock to see him there. What was she expecting? Where else would he be? If not caged and on display here— absurd, he thought. All humans that came here, came for one thing and one thing only; to purchase a wild species, a unique breed to flaunt to their peers. Sylus continuously thought about how weird these humans behaved in society. Their hierarchy dynamics were messed up and he despised that.

You felt his eyes mocking you, such deep red and the only thing you could feel was irritation. Frowning, you turned your head and left him. See how he likes grouching on his own.

Once you were a few steps away, the scientists or doctors stared at the red-eyed big cat hybrid with wonder and… respect? This place was bonkers, you thought to yourself.

“So this is the one?” Your mother asked and marveled at the sight of the lion hybrid. White-silver hair, large, powerful presence, and sharp features.

“Yes, ma’am. Our best subject. Well trained in all the aspects you requested and fairly knowledgeable which is hard to come by with these beats.”

Hearing all that gave you stomach reflux, the acidity burning your esophagus. Your dam was about to break and all your pent-up feelings would end up costing you your freedom if it wasn’t for the red-eyed hybrid. He knocked on the glass and you jumped, startled. You were surprised, he even beckoned you with a finger and again, surprised now with yourself, you automatically obeyed.

It was like a trance. A hypnotic daze of sorts. Both met face to face once again, only separated by the reinforced glass. For a moment you were distracted, the outburst you were about to have laid dormant in the back of your head.

What is this…? Sylus couldn’t help but feel a sense of familiarity. That’s why he was so close to the glass earlier too. He couldn’t see the other side a while ago but something was pulling him there. The whole day he felt restless and on guard as if something resonated within him.

Could this be—

“Ah! Marvelous! Look! They are already interested in each other! Sylus is not showing any signs of hostility or repulsion…” a different scientist exclaimed with eagerness, interrupting whatever connection you had with Sylus at that moment.

Not many words were needed to convince your parents after that show you and Sylus put up. Papers were signed, money transferred and a very confused Sylus was sedated and prepared for shipment.

The big city. Polluted air, noisy streets twenty-four hours a day, and hybrids everywhere. Most people carried one; a human with some animal characteristics, and now you were one of them too. Sylus was scheduled to arrive in a few minutes. All the things you would need to care for him were already in your apartment and even his paperwork. Name, birth, permits and you; listed as his owner.

The melodic tune of your ring bell announced the dreaded moment. You knew Sylus would be escorted here and that most of the traveling time he would have been sedated, but still the long distance between your new home and the facility he was kept in was almost six hours away. You feared a big grumpy cat.

Oh boy… grumpy was an understatement. He didn’t look happy. The moment he stepped foot in and all the straps holding him were taken off, he waited for the delivery people to disappear and he pounced. Surprisingly not on you. He went through all your stuff. According to the guide you received he was scenting. He went through your whole house; rubbing, scratching and overall making a mess.

“Stop! Hey, hmm… Sylus? You don’t have to scent my clothes.” You tried talking to him but he was not interested in your opinion, apparently. He just glanced at you and kept doing whatever he was doing before, like you were the one, not understanding. You had to snatch your underwear from his closed fist in a panic.

He went nonverbal for a week. A week! You were going insane. Yes, he obeyed. Yes, he was extremely independent and didn’t cause any more commotion besides the panty situation on the first day. But God… he was extremely quiet. It wasn’t until you commanded him to that you realized you should have read the manual until the last page; not only the summary.

“Sylus! Say something!” You demanded; going insane was not in your plans for the foreseeable future. They never told you he was mute or anything of that nature.

“Is there anything you need from me, my lady?” His deep and slow voice had your heart leaping out from your chest.

You just stood there, gaping and looking at him like you couldn’t believe he was able to make a sound. Yeah, not even his steps produced sounds. Sylus examined his human with a gleam of humor in his sapphire eyes. This face was a common one for her and he found it… almost endearing. It reminded him of the first time you two met.

“You can talk…” you whispered low and saw how his fluffy round, and white ears twitched. “You can talk!” Again, you exclaimed, pointing a finger at him in disbelief. “Why haven’t you said anything before?!”

“I wasn’t allowed to,” he calmly explained. That mischievous twinkle in his eyes never left, “my owner never requested me to do so until now.”

And that’s how you spend almost three days reading the darn manuals with a now very talkative feline.

You found that Sylus was more than just a pet. He could cook, clean and even force you to exercise which ended up backfiring. You couldn’t keep up with his supposedly healthy routine. A healthy lifestyle means a happy owner, and you would curse under your breath every time he repeated it.

In general, you were happy, he seemed happy and living with him was easier than you thought. Quickly, you two began to build a bond and it was a matter of time before he began to realize why it had been so easy to adapt to this human. His human which is how he referred to you.

Following the manual, you always made sure to have everything Sylus would need. Even his heats. At first, you tried to get him a heat partner and it was a mess. More like you were a mess. Even Sylus was surprised at how you ended up kicking out the poor rental gazelle hybrid in less than five minutes. You didn’t understand what took over you to be so… overprotective.

Oh, but Sylus was not complaining. Watching you almost declare war in his name gave him a deep satisfaction. So much so that he accepted to take suppressants for the time being.

After that incident, things began to change drastically. Sylus in return became a bit more aggressive towards any living creature that was in less than a mile radius of you. Growling, pushing, and even wrapping you with his tail and pulling you towards his body anytime he felt you were in danger. Yeah, you were in so much danger from the tube man… that air dancing balloon from the car wash a couple of blocks away.

“It can be that bad…” you took hold of his arm around your waist in a reassuring manner.

He’s been walking with you in his hold since you crossed paths with the inflatable dancing man.

“It has erratic movements. You never know what he might do next.”

Yeah, it was a recurring situation.

Yeah, he was prepared for everything and anything. Well, except one morning when his nose woke him up.

A sweet intoxicating scent traveled through his nostrils and shook him awake. He felt his mouth water, his canines aching, and his eyes turning into thin lines. The predator in him had been disturbed and its awakening meant trouble.

In all his years in captivity, he had never felt such hunger. Something was clawing in his chest, desperate to come out, each intake of air was pulling his sanity deeper and deeper while the monster surfaced.

Like any good hunter, he let his nose guide him through the house. Following such an intoxicating aroma took him to your door. There he stood—elaborated breathing, sharp fingers encrusted on his palms searching for restrain. You were inside; sleeping soundly in the early hours of the morning. He could hear your soft breathing mixing with his wildly beating heart. Knowing you weren’t aware of the predator outside your door sent a jolt of excitement through his body. Easy prey.

Was it you? Were you the one producing such… inebriant aroma? Why?

He took the handle with a death grip, his rational side fighting against instinct. He felt the urge to hunt, pursue, chase… this… this aroma and make it his own. With an internal battle raging inside him, Sylus felt the door weighed heavy on his palm, the handle burned, but he still stepped in.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room, it made no difference to him that you slept in complete darkness; his ruby-red eyes could see just fine. Then, his gaze focused on your sleeping form, little movement from your steady breathing and you had no idea that a hungry predator stood at the foot of your bed.

But Sylus didn’t move, didn’t pounce on you like he wanted. Torn between instinct and duty, he was frozen in place, sweating and overwhelmed with indecision. Your scent was clouding his every sense, making it even more difficult to do the right thing. It was like time had stopped and the only thing on his mind was the palpitations in his groin for even letting his skin touch the hair surrounding you.

What was the right thing? He asked himself. Neck—cracking as his body suddenly shuddered in pain, Sylus was holding himself back by a fine thread.

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. You were not like his kind who would accept mating just because of a sudden heat. You were human and he had that fact ingrained into his mind. With a whimper of pain and trepidation, Sylus walked over to the side of your bed; every step was excruciating for the hybrid. Once he reached the edge, he did like every other night shared with you. Sylus, silently whining, laid beside you and wrapped his arms tightly, but this time he kept a generous distance between his hips and your back.

He was not a mindless beast. Not to you.

“Sylus… I can’t breathe…” you don’t know when, you don’t know how, but Sylus always ended up sleeping on top of you like a weighted blanket. “Sylus!”

“You don’t wanna know what I did to the last person who woke me up.” Each word came with a little slur at the end, he was barely waking up. No a second goes by and you felt his spiked tongue grooming the nape of your neck and soft growls shaking your whole body.

“Someone’s happy today, hmmm?” You asked in a short breath, reaching for his round and fluffy ear. As you scratched, you heard the deep grumbles of satisfaction increasing.

“Smells good…”

You felt him sniffing all over your chest, deeply inhaling, moving his head downwards. Sylus pulled your covers in a hasty manner and kept descending. Your eyes widened as you realized where he was going and your feet quickly stopped him; placing them on his shoulder and chest.

“Sy-Sylus! S-stop!” Your hands joined your legs and feet, placing your palms on his mouth and the rest of his face. “What do you—“

You stopped mid question as you felt a bit of moisture in between your legs. In a panic, your mind counted the weeks since you moved in and you have forgotten to make an appointment for your birth control replacement… which meant you must be ovulating. How could you forget? It’s been weeks! With everything happening after moving, getting Sylus and adapting to the new city. You had completely forgotten…

A muffled sound came from behind your palm and then a rough tongue pushed against your skin. You slowly retracted your arm, looking at him with apologetic eyes. It was your fault, after all.

“I was saying that you seem to be in need of assistance,” he uttered, arching an eyebrow at your saddened face.

His heavy body was pressing against the sole of your feet, your legs kept him at bay and it surprised you how… physically insistent he was being.

“What do you mean?” You quickly replied, feigning ignorance and he seemed to know your every trick because his first reaction was to give you one of those salacious smiles of his.

“You can’t exactly lie to my nose, kitten.” He almost growled every word, sending shivers through your body. “You’re fertile.”

Before you could even utter a word to contradict his truth, his hands brushed the back of your raised legs for then his fingers gently tapped your skin. You let out a squeak of surprise and swiftly moved your legs, thus giving him an opportunity to nestle in between your thighs.

“If you’re making fun of me, it’s not funny,” you rebuked, but even as you said that the pressure and sudden ache in your lower regions began to increase with the proximity and weight of Sylus.

“I’m not.” He chuckled and it reverberated down your tummy, sending deep palpitations through your core, “you didn’t read the whole manual yet, now did you?” His finger gently tugged your chin, making you stare right into his crimson orbs.

“No…” you sheepishly mumbled, embarrassed of being found again and your lack of knowledge about some stuff still in the encyclopedia-like book you were given.

“Give me the order and I will deliver, Kitten.” He whispered, eyes calling for your surrender. Sylus was pushing the right buttons by being so close, touching you, and having you cornered right where he wanted you.

“You mean…” voicing your hesitation didn’t deter him from destroying your inhibitions, brick by brick. His eyes were hypnotizing, he would give you anything you wanted and you knew you would be safe, right?

He had you caged between his body and the bed, your mind going a mile per second and your heart racing just as fast. No, he wasn’t moving an inch more and you knew he wouldn’t unless you said so.

“Okay…” you sighed finally removing a burden from your shoulders, “h-help me.” You wanted him to alleviate your aching.

“As you wish, Kitten.”

Not soon had those words left his lips, he was on you. You felt the heaviness of the impact of his lips on you. He had seemed calm while talking but his actions spoke differently. Sylus’ kiss was demanding, fiery even. His tongue took no time to slip in between your abused lips, delivering tentative licks to yours; as if tasting and enjoying you.

He kept his low throaty snarls flowing over your body, crushing you against the sheets. You could taste him too, wild, intense, so Sylus. Two bodies lay in the bed, limbs intertwined. Sylus hands traveled up your body, fingers gripping at anything he could find, your moans being greedily swallowed.

His tail kept a steady thumping behind him, lulling you deeper into his embrace. You would let him do anything, be anything if it meant this fire ignited in your chest would never cease to exist.

Sylus grasped the back of your head, fisting strands of your hair for him to pull back and expose your neck to his aching teeth. He felt euphoria ran through his veins as soon as his pearl whites connected with your tender skin. A growl and the stinging stab on your neck made you gasp, hands gripping his collar to bring him even closer as if that was possible.

In a hurry, his other hand began to tear away your pajamas as his teeth continued to gnaw almost painfully at your throat.

In a blink of an eye, you were lifted and bent. Your face harshly met the warmth of pillows. Gone were your clothes. In what moment exactly? You don’t recall and you didn’t really care at that moment.

“I knew it– fuck– the moment I saw you, I knew it.” Sylus rasped out, breath suddenly hitting your nude backside. “This was mine before you even knew it.”

He suddenly lifted your hips, exposing your dripping core to his crimson gaze. You whimpered as the cold hair hit you, hands gripping the bedsheets, and that’s all you could see. Your own fist and abundant white.

“Sy-Sylus!” You shrieked.

Your exposed pussy was invaded by his mouth, and a low vibrating sound joined. His bumpy tongue lapped eagerly, the texture making you mewl and tremble as you unconsciously tried to pull away. Now the chuffing sound changed to a growl of displeasure, his hands quickly moved to your lower tummy and pressed you back against his awaiting lips.

A mess, a wet and sloppy mess. That’s what Sylus was, still holding your body against his face. He couldn’t care less about anything other than your flavor and sounds overtaking his entire being. He slurped, nipped and spit back in just to repeat it all over again.

It took no time to have you trashing and shaking on his grip, cuming on his face, the chuffing sounds intensifying with your moaning.

Skin on skin, no clothes separating him from you, you didn’t register when he freed his body of them. Too lost to care, too much at once to have a sense of anything other than Sylus.

“You take me so well… My kitten—made for me…” he growled as he slipped every inch of him. Your warm walls protested at the intrusion as he mounted you.

Pinning you down, chest pressed against your back and your face shoved into your drool-stained pillows.

“If you keep struggling, kitten… I– fuck, fuck– you’re making it really hard to hold back” he groaned as his eyes zoomed in on your head trashing and shaking. The predator in him just looming around the corner, his female ready for the taking.

“It’s too big!” Your scream was muffled by the pillow. As your wailing reached his ears, his cock throbbed and released a few ropes of white.

“You’re being so good, kitten. Just a… bit longer…” Sylus sighed with pleasure as the creaminess made it easier to thrust into you. Incessantly, hitting that spongy spot, making you cry out as you felt more burning cum filling you up. Both breathless, both panting and an arrange of noises filled the room.

“I feel so full! Sylus! I can’t!” Tears streamed down your face at how bloated you felt, but he kept pushing and bursting inside you. One after the other; face down you had no other option but to take it.

“Not full enough— you need more…” hips slamming into you, the squelching sound of your insides consuming the silence— him bottoming out again and again. “My cunt… will only have my cubs…”

You’re not sure how long it was, you were in and out. Lost a daze, being shoved, pressed and pounded mercilessly… Sylus voice swirled through your mushy brain— satisfaction, and ecstasy running wild through both of your bodies.

Blinking once, twice. You felt heavy and your foggy vision wasn’t helping. You still felt the aftermath of it all. Legs sporadically spamming, lower tummy so heavy and sore.

“You… came so much…” you whispered in between breaths. His cum was dripping from your tender hole, rapidly pooling on the bed. “Why?”

He shrugged, as he caressed your cheek.

“A lion’s thing,” he mumbled softly, pulling you closer and gently holding you.

The rest of the day you were spent. Too exhausted to do anything else. Sylus bathed you, changed the bedding, brought you drinks and food, and gave you the darn manual to finish it for once.

“Sylus!” You slapped his naked chest with indignation. “Here,” you pointed to an article you highlighted, “it says that lion hybrids can copulate for two to three days? Two hundred times in succession? Are you insane?” That explains a lot.

“I am just waiting for you to rest, humans are more delicate than I thought. We’re not moving from this room.” He deadpanned.

Your expression fell as his eyes seemed to show how serious he was being.

“I read that lionesses bite the male’s ballsack when they are upset or something,” you grinned wickedly. “I will do that if you don’t behave!”

“I wouldn’t oppose, sweetie.” He goaded. Your smile slowly faded as your threat was not working as planned. “So… I see you are feeling more… energetic.”

You threw a pillow at him before he pounced on you.

Ah, yes… a gentle protector a trusted guardian, but a beast on the sheets.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Hybrid Town (1) | Only Human

In a world filled with humans and hybrids attempting to find balance with one another, you are but a simple human trying to integrate into the town on the property your late grandparent bequeathed to you. The town just so happens to have a small population of farming hybrids, with hardly any other humans around. 

“So you’re the inheritor…(Y/n)? (L/n)?”

“Yes, I have my I.D. if you want to check.”

“..Right….but the owner of the original property was a hybrid…you are not.”

“Not that it matters. But my grandfather’s partner was a Wolf hybrid…They both agreed to give it to me when they both passed.”

“I..see.”

It might be right to call it racism or maybe more accurately it’s specism and the townsfolk aren’t all that keen on hiding it. They openly sneer at you when you do come to town, whispering loudly about what they’ve heard, and rolling their eyes if you have the gall to ask them a question. 

“Can I get these bags of mulch in bulk?”

“...so what are ya talkin’ to me for? Just grab ‘em.”

“Your sign says to ‘ask for more at the front desk.’”

“...Fine dirt monkey. How much?”

It doesn’t bother you…sometimes. You mostly spend your days on your property, having picnics in the open fields you now own. Spending time renovating your cottage with all the custom plumbing and electricity you learn to install yourself. Wouldn’t want some unfriendly technician in town doing it instead. Anyways you get into the routine of sustaining yourself in your lonesome working from home and relying on your savings to help you enjoy your new life. That doesn’t stop until the one fateful day…you’re lounging on your deck when you hear something faint. It sounds like crying. 

“Waaaaa!”

It sounds like a child…which isn’t unfamiliar, after all your neighbors do seem to be a little family. Of course, they don’t want to talk to you but that’s fine.

“Waaaa!”

It sounds pretty intense but you’re sure it’ll stop soon. 

“Waaaaa! Somebody help, please!”

Now it feels wrong to ignore it any longer. You quickly fix yourself to head over, driving the tractor that you ride across your property to the fence that represents the beginning of your neighbor’s property. It was short work to hop over the fence and hear the crying persisting. Running to the back porch of the house, you see a little dog boy crying his heart out. 

“I heard you crying what’s wrong?”

The kid starts blubbering wiping at tears and snot on his face. After some calming pats between the ears and some promises to help you can get a clear picture.

“Mama fell ‘ver and she won’t wake up!”

You run inside to find exactly that. A dog woman face down on the floor while the soup on the stove boils out and whatever’s in the oven beginning to smoke. Stopping the appliances you flip over the woman in search of a heartbeat and breathing. Thankfully you find it and ask the little boy where you can lay her down. He points you to the bedroom down the hall passing by another bedroom and a bathroom. 

Once you’ve laid her down, check her temperature, and decide in your not-so-expert opinion that she’s suffering from a fever. Assuring the little dog boy you have him help you carry some cold water and a rag to place on her head. While making sure she drinks some water, you finally get to talking to the little dog boy who’s started to calm down now.

“That was real brave of you, good job for asking for help.”

“Big brother always said I gotta since I’m too tiny to do much myself.”

“Well, I thought you were very helpful and you don’t seem that tiny to me.”

“Thanks!” 

“No problem! My name’s (Y/n).”

“And my name’s Titan! By the way (Y/n) I’m real hungry!”

That’s how you ended up cleaning the dishes, Titan’s mother started and using what you could to make something new. You stuck with one of your old family recipes, relying on your memory the best you could to avoid another charred disaster. Eventually, you finish up able to set a plate in front of Titan who is more than happy to dig in. 

“More! More!”

“Okay Titan just a little bit more but you can’t eat it all we’ve got to save some.”

“Whyyyy!?”

“Because your mom hasn’t eaten yet and I’m sure your brother will want some when he gets home–”

“But he’s never aroun’ we’ll be waiting forever for him to come!”

Creak.

“Titan who is this?”

The new voice comes from a much larger dog man with a sturdy build, sun-kissed skin, and overalls barely hanging off his shoulders. His ears are narrowed back and his shoulders are hunched as he easily towers over you. With Titan’s help, you explain how you came to help and that his mother had fainted, likely from the fever she had. When you show him to her, his bared teeth and impending growl quiet down. Fussing over her as he checks for any sign that you might be lying. Finding that you’re not, he skeptically accepts the meal you made as you alternate watching over her and entertaining Titan–who’s far too chipper for a pup ready for bed. 

“Hey uh, wanted to apolog’ze for earlier”

“For what?!”

“Fer how I acted when you’re just helpin’ out.”

“Oh, it’s okay! I’m just happy no one’s hurt.”

“I’m also sorry for misjudging you. I think I had the wrong impression bout ya.”

As you continue to chat with the young dog man–Tank you both work together to finish up whatever chores his mom would usually do. Between you both Titan is convinced to finally get some sleep if it’s in your lap close to his mom. Tank suggests you stay over bashfully offering his bed if you need it. You decline, encouraging him to get some much-needed rest considering he was working on the farm tomorrow. 

“A-a-are you sure you don’t want to stay in a bed? I feel like it’s the least we could do.”

“No worries Tank, I’m going to watch over your mom until this fever breaks. Besides I don’t have the heart to move Titan now.”

“Fair I guess. Hopefully, I’ll see ya tomorrow?”

“Yeah if I’m not still here in the morning you can come to my place anytime.”

His fluffy tail wags a lot harder than he likes at that.

“R-really?”

“Yeah, anytime!”

With another ‘thank you’ he’s off to bed. It isn’t until sunrise that the fever breaks and the dog-hybrid mother is coming to. Assuring her that her boys and the food she left in the oven are not burning the house she calms down to thank you.

“Oh thank you thank you I don’t know what I would have done without you!”

Where you’ll have to fight her off from her barrage of kisses, hugs, and propositions to stay long enough for her to cook something for you to take home, as much as you wanted to stay and indulge in her acts of thanks, you missed your bed and it was plenty exhausting now that you were being spoken to positively. Convincing her that you were such a short drive away that she didn’t need to keep you too much longer and after promising that she and her boys were welcome anytime you could finally go home. 

“You promise?”

“Yes, Miss Tiffany I promise, anytime you’d like.”

“Just not now?”

“Yes, not now so please get some rest!”

Back in the comfort of your home, everything is more or less the same except for the recently obsessed friendly neighbors who make all the quiet time you used to have nonexistent. 

“Wake Up! Wake Up! Let’s play!”

“Egh Titan how did you get in here?”

“Through your doggy door!”

“But I don’t have one!”

“Now you do!”

Thus begins the first few to fall for the lone human in this hybrid town. Hardly shy about their newly discovered attraction as they fill their dull hours up with time next to you. Lucky them as your neighbors they’re the only ones privy to your addictive affection and comforting scent. 

“Oh! I was about to drive over to drop off Titan!”

“What a coincidence! We were just coming over to have dinner at yours!”

“Huh?”

“Well, you did say we can come and thank you anytime!”

“So we figured why not now!”

“In fact, maybe every week we come over to yours and you come over to ours!”

“I mean I guess-?”

“Wonderful Titan, Tank clear the kitchen I’m going to make this dinner the best yet!”

“Yes’m!” “Yes’m

The Dog hybrid family next door is all too eager to take up all of your time. Since the moment you moved in they’ve been eager to truly get to know you, woefully settling with the distant wafts of your scent during a favorable breeze. Unlike others in the town their curiosity for the human was a positive one blaming it on their all too friendly instincts they couldn’t deny the urge they got to close to the distance between you two. But alas everyone in the town was so averse to the idea they were pushed off the desire for far too long but after your sweet words and intentions, they’d be foolish not to return the affection. 

“(Y/n) if you’d like me to cut the grass, I don’t mind.”

“That’s really sweet, Tank but I told myself I wouldn’t allow myself to sit back and let others do all the work.”

His tail droops at that. “Ah I see.”

“But you won’t tell me to go away will you (Y/n)? After I made that doggy door and everything.”

“You just chewed a hole in my door and I’m not saying you can’t stop by Tank I just don’t want it to be because you’re doing more work.”

His tail is wagging a mile a minute again. “I don’t mind if it’s for you!”

With your canine hybrid neighbors so close it’s hard to forget you were ever left alone. Now quiet and sometimes confrontational trips are filled with at least one member of the family accompanying you. Willing to bargain at stores for you or impressively growl when the cashier’s being a tad too snippy. It does make you nervous when the tiny Titan politely asks the nosy bird-woman who had the nerve to whisper about you to a ‘nice chat’ in the alley between the store. Returning with tufts of feathers and blood in his baby teeth. Or how Mama Tiff will oh so politely mention her bloodhound heritage at the fox bullies that hang around your car. Or when Tank all too eagerly pulls you into his side when he finds you cornered by the snake librarian.

“Back off my human!”

After any confrontation, you’ll ask your questions. Head on or round about they’ll all only smile at you, tail wagging wildly behind them. As if they’re proud of the slight fear in your eyes when you ask what that was about.

“We just want to protect you! You are only human after all!”

Part 2: It's Here!

[monstersholygrail]

Do Hybrid!Readers count?

I’m thinking of a monster Reader being kept for research purposes and catching the attention of the newest hire. Cheeky, beastly Reader with an awkward, nerdy scientist who unsuccessfully tries to hide his infatuation. He stares for too long, finds pathetic excuses to work overtime, and pretends to be deeply interested in whatever topic involves Reader. Lately, he’s been spotted reading a book about Reader’s kind, particularly mating habits. For, uh, science, mind you.

Alternatively, it can be a human Reader in a monster lab. I just found the dynamic funny. :)

Aaaah, yes yes! It definitely counts, I love this sorta dynamic. It can be really hilarious and a ton of fun ^_^

None of the Scientists in the lab could really figure you out. You were a giant beast who appeared naturally incredibly threatening. So all the scientists had been a bit hesitant to get in close and really figure out what kind of Hybrid you were exactly.

But they just had to. Because for some reason, some idiot had accidently leaked to the press that they had you in custody. Before they knew it there were countless pictures and articles plastered all over the internet about you. People wanted answers and they sadly had to be the ones to get them. So they brought in a specialist.

The young Scientist stared up at you in awe the first time he met you. He couldn’t actually believe he was meeting you up close. He didn’t know how to react. In fact, he didn’t know anything at all when it came to you. You see, he wasn’t actually a hybrid specialist. He was a scientist, that part was true! Everything else may have been a slight exaggeration on his application.

He just wanted to see you so so bad. He had to. The moment he saw those pictures of you he knew the two of you were meant to be. You were the reason he had never totally clicked with humans, couldn’t keep a partner, and had never fallen in love. His heart was waiting for you.

And now that he was with you, he needed to know everything about you. Not only to sate his own desire but also, ya know, to keep his job. Or else some foolish human might try and separate him from you again. It left him fawning over you constantly, watching you all day everyday, always staying late just so he could be alone with you for a couple hours, and butting in whenever someone tried to talk about you. Because of course he knew you best.

His growing knowledge of you left him convinced you were nearing your heat. Your restless behavior. The way you kept banging against the glass trying to get to him. Over the weeks you had noticed his interest and his care and yours had grown just as much. You had chosen him as your mate and he wanted to be there for you.

The only thing he could think to do was read books on mating behaviors. Of just about every single Hybrid species you could possible be.

Stacks of books surround him in the lab. His interest of you hadn’t gone unnoticed by the others. Not by a long shot. But they brushed off his strange behavior if jt kept him closer to you and them farther away. They avoid him now too, looking at him like the absolute freak he is as they realize what he’s reading.

Their worry doesn’t decrease when he later explains how you need to mate soon in order to keep you in check. They look at him like he’s truly gone insane and maybe he has. The wild look in his eye has only grown more intense the more he’s been around you without truly being with you.

He convinces them with the idea that you’ll be better after you’ve mated. Easier to handle. More open to having experiments done on you while your body is sated and exhausted after being fucked for hours on end. While in reality, from what he’s studied, the opposite is true.

He doesn’t plan on letting them go anywhere within a mile of you. Not with injections, chemicals, and especially not with their grubby little hands. No, only he can touch you. Only he deserves to be near your beauty and grace.

After you mate with him you’re going to be even more wild and destructive, your instincts inflamed and ready to fight. He’s gonna use that to get you two out of that lab if it’s the last thing he does.

Meanwhile the other scientists don’t suspect a thing as they stand a safe distance away from the cage as it opens to let the young scientist inside. The metal door snaps shut once he’s inside and he feels like he can finally breathe now that there’s nothing keeping you two a part.

Mirroring smirks grow on your faces, your expressions speaking of a secret just between the two of you. And as you both finally meet each other in a passionate embrace, you know this will be a wild night that will end with your freedom and a mate by your side.

[runariya]

Tame Me Softly (m.)

thank you @ericawantstoescape for making this happen 🫂💕 summary: There's really nothing that could tame Jungkook. Not some therapist, and definitely not some 'aggression management program' at a clinic. Or so he thinks. pairing: panther hybirdl!Jungkook x cat hybrid!fem reader genre: hybrid!AU, S2L, fluff, smut rating: 18+, MDNI! warnings: aggression, foul language, size difference, a bit of jealousy, JK's whipped and a pussy for OC, explicit sexual content, mutual masturbation, good boy, kitten, sub-y!JK, unprotected sex, kinda public sex(?)...there are CCTV's..., fluff, pls lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 6.6k

a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

“‘S nothing.”

Jungkook sits on the counter of his kitchen, staring at the shredded remains of his curtains like they’ve personally offended him. Which, to be fair, they probably have. They’re too floaty, too white, too… delicate. Namjoon picked them out ages ago, saying they’d “brighten the place up”. Jungkook’s claws have had other ideas.

There’s a pile of fabric strips on the floor, another casualty in his ongoing war against… well, everything. It’s not just the curtains, though. The wall behind the sofa’s got claw marks gouged into it, his sofa’s a disaster of stuffing and fabric, and let’s not even get started on the dining table. That poor thing never stood a chance.

“Right,” Namjoon sighs from the doorway, coat still on and arms crossed like some disapproving school teacher. “What do you call this, then?”

Jungkook doesn’t bother answering this time. He’s too busy ignoring him, staring hard at the floor like it might suddenly open up and swallow him whole. A nice hole in the ground might actually solve a few problems, now that he thinks about it.

Namjoon doesn’t leave, of course. He just leans against the wall beside the damaged rag, sighing in that way he does when he thinks he’s about to say something profound. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” Jungkook snaps, head jerking up to glare at him. His tail twitches against the counter, betraying the irritation radiation off his very being. “Existing? Don’t worry, I’m working on it.”

Namjoon’s face falls, which is somehow worse than the disapproval. Jungkook hates when he looks at him like that, all older-brother sympathy and “I know what’s best for you” vibes.

“You’re not gonna find a mate if you act like a feral alley cat.” 

Jungkook snorts, leaning back on his hands. “As if you’d know.”

“I do know,” Namjoon counters, like he’s just been waiting for that line. “I’ve been with my mate for years. You think she’d have stuck around if I’d been shredding the furniture every time I got annoyed?”

“Maybe.”

Namjoon gives him a flat look. “Look, I get it. You’re frustrated. You’re lonely. But this,” he waves vaguely at the destruction like it’s all just one big disaster “this isn’t helping you. You’ve got to figure something out.”

Jungkook knows Namjoon’s right, and that’s the most annoying part of it. He is frustrated. His skin itches all the time, his claws feel like they’re too sharp for his own body, and he’s constantly on edge. Growling at strangers, snapping at anyone who gets too close, it’s all instinct now. And he’s sick of it.

Sick of waking up in an empty bed, with no one to press against when his tail curls around his own leg for comfort. Sick of walking past couples on the street and pretending he doesn’t feel like biting something out of sheer jealousy.

Still, he can’t bring himself to say all that. Not to Namjoon, anyway.

“You’re so fucking smug, you know that?” Jungkook mutters instead, looking away.

Namjoon doesn’t even deny it. “Smug or not, I’m right. You need help.”

“I don’t need help.”

“You do.” Namjoon crosses the room, dropping next to him. Jungkook tenses automatically, but Namjoon doesn’t push. Just sits there, calm like he’s trying to prove a point Jungkook’s unable to see.

“I found someone for you to talk to. A hybrid therapist. He’s good. Works with panther hybrids like you.”

Jungkook bristles, turning to glare at him again. “You’ve been telling people I’m mental?”

“No,” Namjoon deadpans. “I’ve been telling people you’re a stubborn git who doesn’t know how to ask for help.”

That earns him a low growl, but Namjoon doesn’t care. He never does. “Look, all I’m saying is you don’t have to keep doing this on your own. There are people who can help. You don’t have to see him if you don’t want to, but I think you should.”

Jungkook’s quiet for a long time after that, staring down at his hands. His claws are out again, gleaming in the daylight filtering though his shredded curtains. He wants to dig them into something, but there’s nothing left in the flat that hasn’t already been destroyed.

It’s not like he doesn’t know he’s got issues. He’s not stupid. But admitting it out loud feels like giving up, like letting everyone else win. Still, the idea of someone understanding what he’s dealing with… it’s tempting. More tempting than he’d like to admit.

Namjoon doesn’t push him, just lets the silence settle until it’s unbearable, until Jungkook caves. 

“Fine,” Jungkook mutters eventually, the word bitter on his tongue. “I’ll go. Once.”

Namjoon’s smile is small but victorious, and Jungkook immediately regrets saying anything. “That’s all I’m asking,” he pats him on the back.

Jungkook growls low in his throat again, but Namjoon just laughs, already on his way out the door.

“Proud of you, Kookie,” he calls over his shoulder, and Jungkook swears under his breath, hating this nickname to no ends.

“Asshole,” he mutters, a dull sort of resignation crawling through his insides, like he already knows this is going to be a nightmare.

Still, as he stares at the wreckage of his flat, he wonders if Namjoon’s truly right this time. 

Namjoon wasn’t right. 

Jungkook slouches in the too-small chair, arms crossed tightly over his buffed-out chest, tail flicking with absolute irritation. The claws of one hand tap against the armrest beside him, an aggravated click click click that makes the snow owl hybrid perched opposite him raise a single, unimpressed eyebrow.

This is hell. He’s decided that’s where he is, hell, specifically designed for panther hybrids who don’t know how to behave. The small office is too stuffy for his liking, and Dr. Min Yoongi’s wide stupid eyes never blink, which is doing nothing for Jungkook’s nerves. What kind of therapist stares you down like they’re trying to out-brood you?

Dr. Min hasn’t said much yet, just the usual introductions and a few polite questions about Jungkook’s life that Jungkook hasn’t bothered answering properly. He doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to talk. And he definitely doesn’t want some fucking owl hybrid poking around in his head too. 

“This hostility,” Dr. Min says finally with his stupid slow and calm voice, like he’s got all the time in the world. “Do you ever stop to think where it comes from?”

Jungkook snorts, leaning back in the chair even more with a huff and a sneer. “Why don’t you tell me, Doctor?” His voice drips sarcasm, and his claws tap faster on the armrest, though he hopes the owl doesn’t notice. “Aren’t you supposed to have all the answers?”

Dr. Min tilts his head, feathers ruffling slightly in what Jungkook guesses might be owl irritation. “I don’t have the answers. I just help you find them yourself. But I can tell you one thing: it’s not everyone else who’s the problem.”

That gets under Jungkook’s fur immediately. He leans forward, glaring at the owl. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Dr. Min says, entirely too casually for Jungkook’s liking, “that you’re spending a lot of energy being angry at the world when maybe the problem starts a bit closer to home.”

“Piss off,” Jungkook snaps, his tail whipping uncontrollably against the chair.

Though Dr. Min doesn’t flinch. Of course, he doesn’t. Snow owls probably don’t flinch at anything. He just blinks slowly and sets his clipboard down. 

“You can keep deflecting all you want,” he leans back in his chair with an irritating air of calm, “but it’s not going to make things better for you. Or for anyone else around you.”

Jungkook growls low in his throat, claws digging into the armrests now. “You don’t know a fucking thing about me.”

“I know enough,” Dr. Min muses, no, taunts for Jungkook to say otherwise. “I know you’re angry all the time. I know it’s not working out for you. And I know you came here because you’re tired of it, even if you won’t admit it.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to argue, but the words stick in his throat. He is tired. Exhausted, even. But hearing it said out loud makes him feel vulnerable, and vulnerability is just about the last thing he wants right now.

Thankfully, Dr. Min doesn’t press. He just watches, his head cocked to one side as if he’s studying some particularly complex puzzle. “Tell me, Jungkook, what do you want to get out of this?”

“To leave,” Jungkook fires back instantly.

Dr. Min hums, like that’s about what he expected. “Alright. And then what? Go back to your flat, shred some more curtains? Snap at your brother? Growl at strangers on the street?”

Jungkook bristles. “That’s not—”

“Not what? Not the truth? Because from where I’m sitting, that’s exactly what you’re doing. And it’s not solving anything, is it?”

Jungkook falls silent, his jaw tight and his claws digging deeper into the armrests, seconds from piercing the poor wood.

“Look,” Dr. Min sighs after a moment. “This isn’t about blame. It’s not about you being a bad person or a bad hybrid or any of that bullock. It’s about figuring out why you feel the way you do and finding ways to make it better. That’s it.”

Jungkook glares at him, but he doesn’t have a snappy comeback this time.

“You don’t have to like me,” Dr. Min continues, “and you don’t even have to like this process. But you do have to try. Otherwise, you’re just wasting your time. And mine.”

That rankles more than it should. Wasting time? Like Jungkook doesn’t already know he’s been wasting time for years?

“I’m not—” he starts, but Dr. Min cuts him off again.

“I’m going to prescribe you an aggression management program,” he pulls a form out of his clipboard. “It’s a program at a hybrid clinic. You’ll work through your anger, learn some coping mechanisms. I think it’ll help.”

Jungkook’s hackles rise immediately. “You think what? No way.”

“It’s not a punishment,” Dr. Min holds up a hand to forestall the argument he can see brewing. “It’s a resource. You don’t have to do it forever, but I need you to try it. Commit to the first session. That’s all.”

“You’re having a laugh,” he growls, standing up abruptly. “I don’t need some clinic full of strangers telling me how to ‘cope’.” He practically spits the last word.

Though Dr. Min doesn’t react, just scribbles something on the form and tears it off, holding it out calmly. “You don’t have to like it, but you do need it. Take this to the clinic. They’ll get you started.”

Jungkook doesn’t move to take the paper, just stands there frozen, bristling, and fuming, seconds from tearing this hellhole down. The audacity. Who does he think he is, telling Jungkook he’s got to go to some stupid program like a naughty schoolkid?

“If you don’t take it,” Dr. Min taunts, his voice maddeningly even, “I’ll just send it to your brother. And something tells me Namjoon will make sure you go.”

Jungkook’s growl deepens while his eyes turn into dangerous slits, but he snatches the paper out of the owl’s hand regardless before storming to the door, flipping his middle finger over his shoulder in farewell. 

As he stalks down the corridor, the paper crumpled in his fist, his mind still races, spirals. The nerve of that guy. Sitting there all smug, handing out life advice like he’s got it all figured out. And what’s with prescribing some program after one meeting? Like he knows Jungkook at all?

His tail lashes behind him, and his claws itch to tear into something, preferably Dr. Min’s stupid, unflappable face. Though he doesn’t turn around. 

“This is bullshit,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, cramming the paper into his pocket. He doesn’t need some clinic. He doesn’t need therapy. He just needs everyone to fuck off and leave him alone. For good. 

But as he steps outside, his anger not the least tamed under the surface, a small, unwelcome voice in the back of his mind whispers: What if it actually helps?

Jungkook growls again, louder this time, startling some kids walking by while he shoves the thought away. No chance. Dr. Min’s got no fucking clue what he’s talking about.

And yet, as he walks home, the crumpled paper feels heavier in his pocket than it should.

Yep, Jungkook hates this place, hated it the second he stepped into this forsaken shit hole of a clinic.

The walls are painted this weird pastel green, the air smells faintly of antiseptic, and the receptionist at the front desk had looked at him like she didn’t believe he’d made it this far without biting someone’s head off. She wasn’t wrong though, but it doesn’t mean she had to act like she knew it.

He’s again slouched in one of the too-small chairs in the waiting room, glaring at the ground. His sharp black ears twitch in irritation, catching every little sound, the receptionist tapping on her keyboard, the cheap buzzing light overhead, some fucking bird hybrid chirping on about “hEaLiNg tHrOuGh cOnNeCtIoN” in a pamphlet on the coffee table.

Jungkook’s tail flicks once, twice, then lashes against the leg of the chair. He’s ready to walk out, tear the door off its hinges, and forget this whole stupid idea ever came up.

Except he can’t. He’s promised Namjoon he’d give this a go.

Jungkook snorts like he so often does. As if Namjoon’s got room to talk. He’s been with his mate for years and doesn’t have to worry about stuff like this. Still, Jungkook knows he’s got to figure something out. He’s tired of being pissed off all the time. Tired of everything, tired of himself.

And that’s why he has to be here. Some “aggression management program” he really doesn’t want to be a part of but doesn’t have another option. Fucking Dr. Min. 

He doesn’t even know what they’re going to do to him. He didn’t really listen to the receptionist beyond “spend the night with a companion”. Whatever that means.

The sound of a door opening jolts him out of his spiralling thoughts and he sits up, narrowing his amber eyes at the woman walking towards him, a staff member, by the looks of her, clipboard in hand and a neutral expression on her face.

“Jeon Jungkook?”

“That’s me,” he says with clipped voice. His ears pin back slightly, a reflex he doesn’t bother controlling.

“Right. Follow me, then.” She doesn’t flinch at his tone, just turns on her heel and starts down the corridor.

Jungkook rises to his feet with a grunt, his tall, muscular frame practically filling the hallway as he stalks after her. He can’t help but feel like this is some kind of trap. They’re probably going to put him in a padded room or something.

The woman stops outside a door, turning to face him. “Now, before you go in, I need to remind you, this is a controlled environment. Your companion has been trained to handle aggressive hybrids, but that doesn’t mean you can be reckless. Understood?”

He bares his teeth in what might pass as a smile, though it’s more of a grimace. “Yeah, yeah. I get it.”

She doesn’t look convinced but steps aside to let him through. Jungkook squares his shoulders, pushes the door open, and—

Oh~

The first thing he notices is the scent. Soft and warm, like freshly laundered blankets and a hint of magnolia. It wraps around him before his eyes even land on you.

And when they do… fucking hell.

You’re perched on the edge of a plush armchair, a white British shorthair with fur so soft-looking he almost wants to touch it straight away. Your fluffy tail swishes lazily over the armrest, and your round eyes, so wide and curious, lift to meet his.

You’re cute. Too cute. Jungkook feels his throat tighten. What is this?!

“Hello,” you greet with a voice that’s as soft as the rest of you.

He doesn’t respond right away, standing stiff in the doorway, his dark tail flicking behind him like a warning. But you’re not fazed. You tilt your head, offering a little smile that makes his heart twitch for the first time in his life. 

“You can sit down, if you like,” you gesture to the other chair in the room.

He exhales through his nose, trying to shake the tension out of his shoulders as he moves to the chair. It’s awkward. He’s all muscle and sharp angles, and everything about you is so gentle.

Jungkook doesn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t this. He’s meant to spend the night with you? What’s the point? You’re too small, too quiet, too…

Perfect, his brain supplies, unhelpfully.

“Are you nervous?” you pull him out of his thoughts.

His ears twitch, and he glares at you out of instinct, “What’s there to be nervous about?”

You shrug, your tail curling delicately around your own leg. “You just seem a bit tense.”

Tense. Right. That’s one way of putting it. He shifts in his seat, his claws flexing against the armrest.

“You don’t have to be,” you continue. Your voice is so calm, it’s like you don’t even notice how tightly wound he is. Or maybe you do, and you just don’t care. “I’m not here to judge you or anything. We’re just meant to spend time together. That’s all.”

He scoffs, though it comes out weaker than he intends. “And that’s supposed to fix me, yeah?”

“I don’t know about ‘fixing’,” you give a little shrug. “But it might help. You seem like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

Jungkook bristles, because he doesn’t know what to do, but you’re not wrong. He just doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he just watches as you shift slightly in your seat, your tail uncurling and sweeping across the cushion.

It’s hypnotic, the way it moves. So white, thick, and fluffy, like it was made for wrapping around someone.

“You can talk to me, you know,” you try gently.

“I don’t talk,” he snaps, more out of habit than actual anger.

But you don’t flinch. You just watch him, those big eyes of yours soft and unbothered, as if you’ve seen it all before. And maybe you did. 

“That’s okay. We don’t have to talk. We can just sit here.”

Jungkook frowns. Who are you, and why are you so… unbothered? It’s unnerving. And comforting. And annoying.

He doesn’t know how long the two of you sit in silence, but eventually, you stand up and stretch, your arms raising above your head, your tail flicking lazily behind you. Jungkook’s eyes catch on the movement, and he feels the tension in his own body start to ebb.

“I’ll come over here, then,” you murmur, padding over to his chair.

“Wait, what’re you—”

But you’re already settling onto the armrest of his chair, close enough that he can feel the warmth radiating off you, breathe your scent in. Your tail brushes lightly against his arm, and Jungkook stiffens right back again. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” you tilt your head to look at him, still so much smaller than him despite being elevated quite a bit. 

He should mind. He should tell you to back off, though he can’t help but mutter defeatedly, “Do what you want.”

You smile, and it’s like the room gets as brighter as your fur. Then you do something that nearly makes his brain short-circuit.

You wrap your tail around his arm.

It’s the softest thing he’s ever felt, and he freezes, every instinct screaming at him to pull away or growl or do something. But he doesn’t. He just stares at the white fluff curling around his dark sleeve, his heart thudding out of his chest onto his thighs. 

“There,” you coo softly. “Isn’t that nice?”

Nice? Nice doesn’t even begin to cover it. It’s like every spike inside him has been sanded down at once. He doesn’t even realise he’s leaning back into the chair, his shoulders relaxing for the first time in… he can’t remember how long.

You keep talking, your voice a soothing balm to his racing mind and heart, but Jungkook’s barely able to listen. All he can think about is how good this feels. How you feel. How the growl that’s been simmering in his throat all day has died down to nothing.

After a while, he sneaks again a glance at you. You’re not looking at him, though. Just staring off into the middle distance like this is the most normal thing in the world, sitting on the arm of some massive panther hybrid’s chair like you haven’t got a care in the world.

“What happens then?” he asks suddenly, maybe a bit too gravelly. He doesn’t really mean to say it, but the words are out now. He’s not great with silence, never has been.

You turn your head and meet his gaze with those big, round eyes of yours. Again unbothered. Completely fucking unbothered by the size of him, the way his claws are tapping the arm of the chair like he’s seconds away from tearing through the padding. You’re not scared of him. He’s not sure how to feel about that.

“Whatever you need,” you shrug. “Cuddles, a chat, whatever helps.”

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard by the simplicity of it. “That it?” he mutters, shifting in his seat. His tail swishes again, knocking lightly against your side on accident and he instantly feels sorry. But again, you don’t even flinch. “That’s what you’re here for, then? Just… comfort?”

“Mmm.” You stretch your feet slightly, dangling a good distance from the floor. “That’s the job.”

His ears twitch. “So you do this with everyone?”

The words come out more jealous than he means them to, and he winces internally. He’s always got a fucking tone, even when he’s not trying to. But you don’t seem bothered. You tilt your head slightly, considering him, then shake it once.

“Nah,” you say casually. “Sleeping with‘em’s off limits.”

He stares at you, unblinking with his lips parted. You don’t elaborate, don’t explain, just leave it there like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. His tail has stopped moving too, his claws completely retracted, fingertips resting against the fabric of the chair. There’s something oddly reassuring about the way you said it, like it’s not even a question, not a possibility. And for some reason, that makes him feel so much better. Not that he’d ever say it out loud.

“Right,” he grumbles, leaning back in his seat. He keeps his arms crossed, though, just to give himself something to do. He’s not about to let you see how much your answer affects him. No chance.

Time passes slowly, the two of you existing in a semi-comfortable sort of quiet, but eventually, you hop down from the armrest and pad over to the bed, tail dancing gracefully behind you. Jungkook watches you go, pretending he’s not, especially when you climb onto the bed and settle in, stretching out like he wasn’t even there.

“You coming or what? It’s late.” you glance at him over your shoulder. Your tone is light, teasing, and it does make his throat dry up. He stands abruptly, shoving his hands into his pockets, and strides over to the bed like he’s got something to prove, though he doesn’t know what exactly. 

Reluctantly, or rather clumsily, he climbs in, the mattress dipping under his massive weight, and lies stiffly on his back, nails digging into the duvet laying over you both. You’re beside him, close but not too close, and he’s hyperaware of every fucking inch of space between you. His tail flicks against the duvet and the mattress, restless as his mind is, and he starts to feel embarrassed for it.

“You’re still tense.”

“Not tense,” he squeaks out. It’s a lie, obviously. He’s never been good at this, the whole vulnerability thing, letting his guard down. But you just hum softly, like you know better, and he feels the bed shift slightly as you move closer.

Your hand brushes his arm, and he can’t help but to again freeze pathetically, as his tail stops flicking, lying still under the covers. You don’t say anything, just let your hand rest there, and slowly, so slowly it’s almost physically painful, he starts to relax again.

“You’re alright, you know,” you breathe softly. “You don’t have to keep your claws out all the time.”

He huffs out a breath, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “Easier said than done.”

“I know,” there’s something in your tone that makes him believe you. Like you really do get it. Like you’ve been there, done that. 

Minutes pass, the quiet settling over you both. He’s not sure when it happens, but at some point, he shifts slightly, turning onto his side to face you. You’re close, so close he can see the soft rise and fall of your chest, the way your whiskers twitch slightly as you breathe. His eyes flicker to your lips, then back up to your eyes, and he clears his throat, suddenly too nervous for his own good.

“You’re my mate now,” he blurts out, the words rough and unpolished and oh-so embarrassing. 

You blink, startled, and then, to his absolute horror, you laugh. Not a mean laugh, though. It’s soft, warm, almost affectionate, and it makes his ears flatten against his head, blush painting his cheeks as he nibbles on his lower lip. 

“That’s how you ask someone?” you gasp through your laugh, a teasing lilt in your voice. “All gruff and demanding?”

“What’s wrong with that?” he mutters, defensive.

You shake your head, still smiling, and reach out to tap him lightly on the nose. He freezes, stunned by the casual intimacy of it.

“Try again. Nicely, this time.”

He swallows, the lump in his throat almost too much to bear, and nods once, takes a deep breath. He wants you as his mate, no doubt about it, though stating it too plainly again will surely push you away, and that’s the last thing Jungkook wants, what he needs.

“If… if you’d like, uh, if you’re okay with it, I’d love to be your mate?” It’s pathetically high-pitched, but dear Lord have mercy, he can’t screw this up now, not with his nerves all over the place.

You smile, a proper smile this time, and lean in close, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He’s so startled he doesn’t move at first, but then his body takes over, and he’s kissing you back, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head. It’s soft and slow and everything he didn’t know he needed.

When you pull back, you’re both a little breathless, and you reach out to grab the edge of the duvet, pulling it up over both your heads. “No cameras,” you murmur, and he can’t help the soft laugh that escapes him, feeling the corners of his eyes crinkle for the first time since his childhood. 

Letting his big hands glide across your fur, Jungkook can’t help but capture your lips yet again, knowing that the taste of you has become his favourite after just one try.

“You’re not working here anymore,” he grumbles against your teeth, which are gracing his lower lip. But as soon as the words escape him, you halt, pull away, and narrow your eyes at him, something so out of character for you, yet it makes his blood rush just that bit faster through his veins.

“Pardon?” It’s not said angrily, though there’s a warning underneath the mellowness of your tone that makes him gulp.

He realises quickly that he needs to change his approach. Needs to get rid of the harsh, aggressive tone now. And if it means being a little pussy for you, then that’s exactly what he’s willing to do.

“Please stop working here. I can provide for you. I’ve got the money, I’ve got everything you need. Please.”

Your lip twitches and your body shifts closer to his, just a fraction, and he knows he’s said it the right way even before you open your mouth.

“Okay, I’d love that.”

If he were a stupid dog, his tail would have knocked the duvet clean off the bed by now. But instead, he starts to fucking purr, a sound that surprises him almost as much as it seems to surprise you. Your eyes widen, then soften, and your own purr begins, pulling both of you back into the bliss of tangled lips and hands leisurely exploring your clothed bodies.

“My pretty kitten,” Jungkook husks when your tiny canines nip at his throat. The devastatingly sweet moan you let out at his nickname makes his chest swell in ways he’s never felt before.

Not wanting to get caught on CCTV, you both opt to just slip out of your bottoms, hiding them under the pillows to avoid them landing on the open floor. Jungkook’s hands find their way to your thighs, squeezing and caressing up to your heat until he’s able to coat his fingers in your arousal.

He can’t process the delicate feel of your tiny hand wrapping around his massive cock, your dainty fingers struggling to even grip him properly. The sheer size of him leaves you working to pump him to full erection, while the scent and squelching sounds of your arousal fill his senses, utterly consuming every fibre of his being.

“Move in with me,” he blurts out, overwhelmed by emotions so beautiful he doesn’t know how to contain them.

Your answer comes with a sharp bite to his left pec. Even though he’s still wearing his shirt, the nip startles him slightly.

“Would you please move in with me, kitten?” he tries again, words more thoughtful this time. 

“Of course, Kookie.” You purr against his lips now, draping a leg over his side and guiding his already leaking cock to your weeping entrance.

Under any other circumstances, someone calling him Kookie would drive him mad, he’d probably bite their head off. But with you? He loves it. Hell, if you called him a pussy, he’d happily fall to his knees and agree, Yes, he’s your pussy, and he’s fucking proud of it.

Your tight cunt fits him like a glove, sucking him in inch by inch as your hips roll against his. There’s no space left between you, no gap to measure. The whimpers and grunts falling from his lips are all he can muster, his mind utterly blank and for the first time, everything feels so right, so perfect, that it sends a different kind of adrenaline through him.

Everything Namjoon and Dr. Min ever said to him finally makes sense. Everything makes sense because of you. Because of your being, your beautiful soul, your kind and calm heart, your sweet moans, and your perfect cunt. Jungkook never believed in paradise before, but God, you’ve shown him it exists, and it’s named after you.

“Kookie, you’re so perfect,” you moan, your lips and tongue tangling and untangling with his over and over, recalibrating everything he once knew and trusted.

“Kitten…” His whine is embarrassingly submissive, but he doesn’t care. Not now. Not ever. In this primal state, you’re his guiding light, and he’ll follow you anywhere. No questions asked. 

He tries to stay as silent as possible, moving just enough to keep the duvet from sliding off, but the feeling of your cunt clenching around him with every thrust drives him dangerously close to the edge. His breathing turns too laboured in the suffocating heat beneath, and when one of your hands slips between your bodies to massage his balls, his resolve crumbles.

“Don’t,” he rasps, head and eyes lolling back. He’s desperate to hold on just a little longer, but your sugary voice pushes him over the brink.

“It’s fine, Kookie,” you whisper, biting his lower lip and tugging at it before letting it snap back. “Cum for me, Kookie. Be a good boy for your kitten.”

And he is. He’s such a good boy when he lets go, his hips erratically driving against yours as his free hand claws into your ass, pulling you impossibly closer. He doesn’t even notice your orgasm arriving as quickly as his own until your walls spasm around him, milking every last rope of his release. He knows that after this night, after this nut, he’s a changed man.

“Good boy, Kookie.”

He’s going to make it right, somehow. He’s going to be good. For you. For himself. For everyone.

Later that same day, Jungkook’s pacing the flat like his tail’s on fire, which it might as well be given how much it’s lashing about. He’s got a broom in one hand, a bucket of soapy water in the other, and absolutely no clue where to start. The place looks… kind of better than it used to, but that’s not saying much. He’s scrubbed the claw marks out of the walls where he could, patched the worst of the holes with dodgy plaster, and thrown a blanket over the mangled sofa. But it’s still his flat. And his flat is a disaster. Literally. 

He glances at the clock on the wall, then back at the battered door, his ears twitching nervously. You’re due any minute now, and he’s not ready. Not mentally, not emotionally, and definitely not domestically.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters to himself, scrubbing furiously at a smudge on the floor. “What was I thinking? Inviting her to this?”

He’s tried telling himself you won’t care, that you’re not the type to judge, but it doesn’t help. You’re a white British shorthair hybrid, graceful, elegant, put-together in ways Jungkook doesn’t even know how to be. He’s never met anyone like you before, and now you’re moving in. With him.

His claws flex instinctively, and he has to stop himself from raking them across the wall yet again. He needs to take deep breaths, no more damage. Not now, not ever again. 

The intercom sings as if mocking him even further, startling Jungkook to the point where he nearly drops the broom.

“Shit,” he mutters repeatedly, chucking the cleaning supplies into the nearest cupboard where they definitely do not belong and hastily swiping his damp hands down his trousers.

He opens the door to find you standing there with a suitcase that barely would fit one of his shoes in one hand and a smile that could knock the last brain cells out of him.

“Hi,” you greet softly, tail curling behind you in a delicate arc.

Jungkook freezes for half a second, his brain scrambling to process how small you look compared to him, how soft your ears are, how fucking perfect you seem in his doorway. Then he remembers himself.

“Uh, hi,” he stammers, stepping aside awkwardly. “Come in. Sorry, it’s… yeah. Come in.”

And you do, taking a careful look around, and Jungkook’s stomach knots up even more. He can see your eyes flicking to the patched-up walls, the threadbare carpet, the uneven paint job. He feels like a kid getting his homework marked, and he hates everything of it.

“It’s not great,” he blurts out, his tail twitching nervously behind him, though barely lifted off the floor. “I mean, it’s better than it was, but it’s still…does it bother you?”

You turn to him, your head tilting upwards, and there’s that mesmerising smile again. “No, it doesn’t bother me. I’m sure you won’t be needing this outlet anymore now that I’m here.”

Jungkook blinks at you, his ears perking up. “What d’you mean?”

You shrug, setting your suitcase down gently. “All this.” You gesture vaguely at the room behind you. “I’m guessing it’s the sort of thing that happens when you don’t have someone to keep you steady. But you do now, right?”

For a moment, Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. His heart’s fluttering weirdly in his chest to the point where it hurts, and he’s half sure he’s forgotten how to breathe.

“Yeah,” he finally presses out. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

You smile again, and Jungkook feels like he’s just been handed a second chance at life he didn’t even know he wanted.

“Right,” he claps, clearing his throat and trying to sound normal. “Let’s get you settled, then.”

He picks up your suitcase, surprised by how light it is, and carries it to his bedroom, your room. It’s the only part of the flat he’s really proud of, the one place he’s managed to make look half-decent. There’s a fluffy throw on his bed now, soft pillows, and a little lamp with a warm glow he brought on the way home earlier this day. It’s not much, but it’s cosy.

You step inside, and your tail swishes as you take it all in. “It’s lovely,” you gush, and Jungkook feels a ridiculous swell of pride.

“I, uh, wanted it to be comfortable. Figured you’d like… soft things.”

You laugh softly, and it’s the kind of laugh that makes Jungkook’s ears twitch in a way he’s not used to but surely would not mind happening again and again. “You figured right,” you step forward, running your fingers over the throw.

Jungkook watches you fondly, dumbly in love, before gesturing back to the rest of the flat. “I’ll, uh, give you a tour, if you want.”

You follow him around as he points out the kitchen, the bathroom, the little living room. He tries to brush past the obvious flaws, the wobbly table, the poorly fixed cabinets, but you don’t seem to mind. You just nod along, your tail curling in that slow, content way that makes Jungkook feel like this really isn’t going to be a total disaster.

Once your suitcase is unpacked, you curl up on the sofa, your fluffy tail wrapping neatly around your legs while Jungkook can’t stop watching you, but equally unsure what to do with himself.

“You alright?” you ask, looking up at him with those big, soft eyes.

“Yeah,” he breathes quickly, dropping onto the armchair opposite. “Just… yeah.”

You giggle, making grabby hands his way which he can’t ignore, trotting over to you without a second thought. As soon as he’s sitting beside you, arm draped over your delicate shoulders, he feels himself start to loosen entirely again like last night, realising, that for once, he can just be.

“Thanks for this,” you beam at him, snuggling into his side, purring and kneading your tiny hands against his shirt. 

Jungkook shrugs, trying to play it cool, even though he doesn’t know what you’re thanking him for. “It’s no big deal.”

But it is. It’s the biggest deal he’s ever had, and as he watches you being this content beside him, he knows you’ll be the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

a/n 2: lmk what you think in any way you like! 👀 If you liked what you read, pls consider buying me a ☕️ Ko-fi.com/runariya 💕

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[quarterlifekitty]

König noticing that his moth girl is getting even more lethargic somehow, eating more than usual and never leaving this cave of pillows and blankets that showed up overnight

He’s worried sick about her! Trying to press about what’s wrong but all he gets are mumbled about how her tummy aches and how she’s sleepy

Then one day.. she’s better. Just, out of the blue. He checks out the little den she’s made and finds.. a clutch of eggs

(Whether or not they’re fertilized is up to interpretation ;] )

- @murderkittyz

I LOVE THIS!!!! Lifelong dream of mine, laying a bunch of eggs.

cw: hybrids and egg laying

I imagine the timeline for this is insanely condensed because she’s a moth. So like she’s all tired and hungry for a day or two, enough for König to get worried. He’s thinking about calling the breeder that he got her from. She won’t come to bed, just huddled in her little nest. He brings her food, hand feeding her, but she sleeps almost all day.

And then the next day… she’s completely fine. Normal. Doesn’t even tell him anything. Just amusing herself as normal. He pulls some blankets off of her pile to see the neatly laid little eggs. Soft and sticky and just a little shiny. And there’s like 50 of them. He takes a picture, calls Horangi’s friend— he just wants to know if they’re… viable.

And as cute as it would be for König to have to take care of like 50 caterpillars, I think she’s too distant from a standard human genetically for them to interbreed. If she was a mammalian hybrid there might be a chance, but arthropods are just too different.

It’s a little disappointing… but it’s for the best. Because they don’t make birth control for mothgirls and he’s told she might do this like 4 times a year. That would be a lot of babies.

[solelifauna]

GUYS THIS COMMENT FROM @silken-moons ON THE WEREWOLF AU HAS ME LOCKED IN.

silken-moons:

Wait....so what happened to Kon or Conner in this au ? Was he the one eaten since he was basically half human and kryptonian too assuming lex is human in this au too.

I am more than happy to elaborate.

Lex is a half-human half-werewolf hybrid like the reader. So Conner would be half-kryptonian and only a fourth werewolf. When Clark finds out about his existence he’s pissed (at first). Superman doesn’t hesitate before finding Luthor and melting his skull in with his laser vision. It’s quite the graphic scene, Conner unfortunately being there to witness it all.

Conner is pressed back into some crevice in Luthor's office, doing his best to calm his heart beat, stave off his on-coming panic attack, and pray that Superman won’t kill him. Clark of course finds him curled in on himself, hyperventilating, tears streaming down his teenage face.

Conner is blubbering, he thinks, trying to communicate some type of garbled “please” and “I’m sorry” and “don’t hurt me please”. Superman just critically eyes him before knocking the clone out. Now, in the beginning he was just planning on taking the clone to the Watch Tower to interrogate him and then kill him. Perhaps Jon would like the extra meat?

But after watching the clone wake up alone in one of the containment units, crying quietly to himself as he rocked back and forth, he started to feel a little bad. He thought back onto the way the clone had practically begged him for mercy through his own panic attack. He's read Lex Luthor's files on "Superboy", how this clone had no flight, was not invulnerable, and couldn't even throw out half of Clark's strength.

This clone was no threat, no, in fact he was a gift. Another Kryptonian (even if the clone was only half with human DNA in his mix). And even better, the clone boy had no ill intentions towards the JL, hell, the boy looked afraid that anyone even considered the idea. No, no, no, this boy, his boy, was so sweet.

From the way he leaned into Clarks palm when he caressed the sleeping boys face, to the way he clung to Clark and his approval like a touch starved puppy, Clark couldn't help himself. The only problem now was getting his Wife and Son on the same page. He knew werewolf customs, he knew what it meant for Conner (a name his new son had previously picked out).

It would probably be easier to convince Jon considering the poor kid's been wanting a sibling for a long time now (Jon is 8 right now, but still all the same crazy). Lois might take a bit more time, considering pack bonds and the human part of Conner. So with a heavy heart, he kisses his new baby goodnight, as he flies home for he night. Yes, its been a couple of weeks since Connors arrival and he still hasn't told his family. he plans to amend that today.

He expects growling and demands for flesh. he expects outrage from his wife, or even a calm cool collected "bring him to me". What he gets instead are demands from Lois to see Conner, her new son. Clark blinks in surprise before he's fumbling with his phone, opening up his camera role where has has a million new pictures of Conner. Lois only grabs his phone, cooing over the pictures with adoration in her eyes. Well, Clark is pleasantly surprised.

"You're not mad are you Lois?" Clark asks gently.

"Oh I'm not mad Smallville, I'm livid." She all but growls, a smile still etched on her face as she continues scrolling. "You knew about him for weeks, and didn't even bother letting me know. I had a son for weeks, and he's been by himself."

Clark winces. "I know Lois, I know. I just-I was just afraid that you wouldn't want him the way I do. That you'd rip him open, hell, even I considered it in the beginning!"

Lois looks up from his phone, a knowing smile, a soft one, on her face. "I know farm boy, I know. But its important that you remember we don't always kill and eat the weak. Sometimes, its nice to have something that you can love and take care of, something that relies on you and only you."

"is that what you have planned for Connor?"

"Of course. He's our son now, and after everything he's been through, its out job to keep him and Jon safe. Until he can prove himself capable, he's not leaving the den."

A content grin makes its way onto Clarks face. Oh how he loved his wife. "I wouldn't have it any other way Lois. I'll bring him here tomorrow. Now, lets go let our other little rascal know."

Lois smirks. "I agree. Lord knows he's been waiting to have a-"

"-I have a new brother!" Comes the familiar voice of Jon Kent, cutting his mother off in his excitement.

Clark raises his eyebrow fondly, feigning exasperation. "Did you listen in on our conversation Jonathan Samuel Lane-Kent?"

"Of course I did! Well-I didn't mean to, but I couldn't help it! You said I have a brother and I wanna see him!" Jon all but whines.

"Well honey, dad said he'd bring him home tomorrow okay."

"Really!?"

"You betcha. But Jon, you have to be gentle with him okay? He doesn't know werewolf or Kryptonian customs okay?" His dad says.

"Okay, I promise i'll be gentle." Jon swears, nodding up and down.

Lois sighs fondly. "And its important to know that he is part human, do you know what that means?"

"Mhm! It means that he's not allowed out the den or the house, and that its our job to protect him 'cause he's weak." Jon repeats from his memory.

"Good job Jon! You're going to be the best brother, I just know you are." His mom says.

Jon preens under the praise.

He can't wait to meet his new brother!

~~~~~

The next day arrives slower than anyone would have liked.

The morning sunlight filters through the sky as Clark flies Conner to him penthouse in Metropolis, cradling the boy carefully as he slumbers. Conner stirs in his arms, eyes fluttering open, a brief panic flashing in them until he meets Clark’s calm gaze.

“Where-where are we?” Conner mumbles, clutching at Clark’s shirt with a grip that feels hesitant, almost reluctant.

“We’re going home,” Clark replies, a small smile on his face. “Your new home. Your family’s waiting for you, Conner.”

Conner’s eyes widen, his mouth opening as if to protest, but the words die on his lips. His gaze shifts away, and he nods mutely, not quite daring to believe that this “family” will truly accept him. He’s felt so disposable for so long; he almost can’t imagine what it’s like to be wanted.

The penthouse doors open, and Lois stands there, her sharp gaze softening the instant she sees Conner. She steps forward, reaching out a hand in a silent invitation. Conner hesitates, clinging to Clark a little tighter, and Clark gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s okay, Conner,” he murmurs. “I'm here for you.”

With a slow, tentative step, Conner reaches out, letting Lois pull him into a gentle hug. Her arms are firm around him, warm but unyielding, a silent promise of protection, though he senses the fierce strength just below the surface. She smooths his hair with surprising gentleness, her voice soft as she whispers, “Welcome home, Conner.”

Conner relaxes, allowing himself to take a deep, shuddering breath. This feels strange. He's never really had a home before. Luthor's compound was last place he felt safe, let alone a place he'd call home. And that word, that feeling-safe. He isn’t sure he's ever felt it outside Superman, sorry, his Dad's arms.

And isn't that a crazy thing, he has a Dad now. Superman, Clark Kent was his Dad.

Jon, standing just a few steps away, is practically vibrating with excitement. When Lois finally releases Conner, Jon bounds over, a wide grin on his face.

“Hi! I’m Jon, your brother!” He pauses, then adds, almost reverently, “I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

Conner blinks in surprise, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he mumbles, “I-thank you, Jon.”

Lois places a hand on Jon’s shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Remember what we talked about, Jon. Conner’s still adjusting. Be patient with him.”

Jon nods enthusiastically, but there’s a possessive glint in his eyes as he looks at Conner, a silent vow to protect his new brother from anything—or anyone—that might threaten him. Conner notices this look, a strange chill running down his spine, but he says nothing.

As the day unfolds, Conner tries to settle into this new life, though it feels almost too good to be true. Lois and Clark are attentive, constantly ensuring he’s comfortable, while Jon barely leaves his side, eager to show him every corner of the penthouse, as if staking his claim. Meals are filled with warmth and laughter, and yet Conner can’t shake the feeling of being watched, almost obsessively.

That night, as Conner lies in the bed they’ve prepared for him, he hears the soft creak of footsteps outside his door. It opens quietly, and Clark steps inside, his face illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the window. He walks over to the bed, looking down at Conner with an intense, unreadable expression.

“You’re part of this family now, Conner,” Clark says quietly, brushing a hand over Conner’s forehead in a strangely tender gesture. “Nothing will take you from us. Not anyone. You’re ours, do you understand?”

Conner nods, his throat tightening, unable to find words. Clark’s gaze softens, and he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to Conner’s forehead before turning and leaving the room, leaving Conner alone with a flurry of conflicted feelings. For the first time in his life, he feels wanted, cherished, trapped, as though he’s become a prized possession in a family he can never escape.

But, maybe, a small voice inside him whispers, he doesn’t want to escape at all.

Well folks, here's more lore on relationships outside of the Batfam. Let me know chat, am I cooking? New chap, out soon!

[bunkoos-mole-enthusiast]

Weekly Jungkook Fanfic Recs

Some fine JK fics for your reading pleasure. 🔞 Please show your appreciation to all the wonderful authors:)

Practice: You usually spend Friday nights on your own. Tonight, however, your friend and campus fuckboy, Jungkook, decides to pay you a visit. https://www.tumblr.com/chryblossomjjk/692422150298140672/practice-jjk Imagine: Jungkook wants nothing more than to spend your anniversary cuddled up in a fancy hotel bathroom, eating takeout and binge watching tv shows. you, on the other hand, have something more exciting in mind. https://www.tumblr.com/chryblossomjjk/690342551816929280/imagine-jjk Dumbo: You know what they say about boys with big noses… https://cinnaminsvga.tumblr.com/post/617392866169372672/dumbo-jungkook-m A Nyul: Giving in to your rabbit hybrid Jungkook sexually was never part of your plan. He was supposed to be a companion and nothing more. He wore you down eventually and as a hybrid owner you are responsible for the health of your companion right? https://cocotaetae13.tumblr.com/post/706188075311759360/a-ny%C3%BAl Chasing Shadows: Your job gets you into trouble sometimes. Who would have thought crime journalism would put so many targets on your back? But, it’s happening again, someone’s threatening you. Only, this time, it’s not just you that’s in the crosshairs. Your best friend, Enola, is out on assignment and can’t help like she usually does. So, what does she do instead? She sends her brother, Jungkook, armed with a magic bag, a charming smile, and deductive reasoning skills that prove his worth as one of the best PIs around. https://www.tumblr.com/colormepurplex2/704207339679580160/chasing-shadows-jungkook-x-freader-modern On Wings Of Mist & Memories: You’re a Psion—disguised Field Scribe—of the Golden Kingdom of Bolas, attached to the Front Wing Infantry. After an ambush from the sky rips down the safe walls around you, you find yourself at the mercy of a brutal man, his dragon, and his shadows. https://www.tumblr.com/colormepurplex2/725131542223093760/on-wings-of-mist-memories-jjk

Tryst: An old friend visits to spend the day with you and boyfriend Jungkook. That night, smut ensues. https://4joonkookie.tumblr.com/post/671213340397355008/tryst Tamed: JK is a brat tamer (and you’re the brat), OR you’re in your feelings and Jungkook fucks you till you’re out of them. https://4joonkookie.tumblr.com/post/668597010994167808/tamed

Make You Mine: Alphas might rule the world, but Jungkook finds himself being ruled by the need to make you his. Omegas are rare, precious, and pliant. At least, most are. When you present late, well into your twenties, you’re already set in your headstrong ways; a challenge even for a commanding alpha like Jungkook. Add to that the centuries-long feud between your families and the last thing anyone expected was for him to claim you as his soulmate. https://colormepurplex2.tumblr.com/post/700874629265440768/make-you-mine-jjk Now I'm Yours: Jungkook is terrible at feelings. He’s possessive, reckless, and most definitely an Alphahole; you were once his sworn enemy for a reason. But, after he claimed you as his mate during your designation celebration, how do you even begin to navigate the dark waters of such a precarious relationship? Especially when there is darkness creeping over the horizon, threatening to blanket your world in permanent shadow. https://colormepurplex2.tumblr.com/post/742077527315644416/now-im-yours-jjk

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 3)

When you woke up, it wasn't that much later. Maybe an hour later at most, which was normal for you. You weren't a heavy sleeper, but to be fair, hard to find any heavy sleepers in the foster system. You also hadn't moved an inch from your position during your light sleep. The bed almost looked like it was made, except for the small imprint of a person on top of the soft blankets.

The room was the same as it was before, the door was closed and the curtains drawn, none of the foster parents came into the room after they left you to unpack. Well, "unpack". You didn't really do that, you kept your clothes inside your backpack and the backpack safely tucked under the bed.

Just... precation.

The house was quiet. So quiet, in fact, that you immediatly shuffled over to the door and opened to try and pin point where anyone could be. It wasn't hard, you could faintly hear low voices downstairs, where you think it's the kitchen. You don't really remember much from the tour.

You weren't sure what to do now, but you just closed the door behind you quietly as your feet, padded by only your socks since you left your sneakers by the bed, gently made their way back down stairs. The voices only got clearer as you made your way down, getting closer to the kitchen that smelled extremelly good, close enough, in fact, that you flinched for a second as soon as you heard a loud, booming laugh.

"Oi, ya prick!! Stop that!" The scottish guy, the werewolf, yelled, laughing.

"Shhhh, the chick...!" The harpy quickly reprimended, even tho he was also laughing, much quieter.

"Not a chick, are they, Garrick?" A low, low voice sounded it out, and due to process of elimination, it could only be the wraith. Simon, if you remeber correctly. He looked so serious when you first saw him, but his tone now sounded just amused.

"Oh, please, you get what i mean..." The harpy scoffs, sounding amused as well. "What do you call a human chick?"

"Not a chick, that's for sure." Johnny laughs.

"Isn't it just like, 'baby'?" John suggests, apperantly shrugging a bit.

"I'll call 'er pup!" The werewolf immediatly ignores John's words, only for them all to start laughing.

"Such a little fledgling..." Simon sighs after they all quiet down a little. "I'm not sure how to take care of a human..."

"Ey, big guy, we'll learn!" Johnny smiles easily, giving one of his mates a heavy pat on the back. "I mean... wee lass looks frail as hell, but... we had babies before. Be a bit more confident!"

"No, I get Simon. I'm worried we might overlook their needs accidentaly." The dragon sighs. "I think I got it, but it still worries me."

You fidget a little on the wall you were leaning against. You wish you could sooth their worries. You didn't really need anything special, humans were adaptive. Very adaptive. You'll fit in, one way or another.

"You heard the social worker." Simon grunts, the sound alerting you for a second. "Call if we need anything."

You can hear the loud scoff John lets out at that, and for a second, the smell of smoke reached your nose.

"I don't need help to take care of my hoard."

The growl made your body instinctively lock up, quiet breathing catching on your throat as your eyes widen for a second. It's only when Johnny and Kyle laugh that you manage to calm down a little.

"Daddy Price is not one to take advice from others, huh?" Kyle laughs quietly, smooth and gentle voice that only makes the provocation sounds worse.

"Bastard never was." Johnny laughs back, shaking his head in amusement.

"That's it, shut it, the both of you." John growls once again, quieter this time, not really mad, just annoyed at best. "Besides, apperantly, i do know better. That woman brought the hatchling here in this cold wearing only a fucking light jacket."

"Dinner is ready." Simon's heavy voice announces, interrupting the banter. "Who's gonna call the fledgling?"

"ME!"

"I can go."

Both Johnny and Kyle glared at eachother as they spoke at the same time, which only made Simon grunt.

"Kyle can go. Fucking mutt being all loud like this is gonna scare off the fledgling."

Another growl sounded out, this one, different from John's. This one was Johnny's, and made you terrifed all the same as you made your way to the living room on the other side of the stairs, your pace just a little bit desperate thanks to the growl and the fight.

Thanks to your human nature, you couldn't really tell it was more of a playful growl than an annoyed growl. (They were also not figthing, that's just the way they spoke with eachother, but you just got here, don't expect to know that yet).

Your eyes fell into the cozy living room. It looked... mostly like normal living rooms, but you could still see some kind of... nest thing to the side, close to the fireplace, with confortable pillows and blankets. The couches also had a lot of them. You didn't know they liked confort that much, but you suppose it's not... a bad thing.

"They're not-!"

You startle immediatly at the half-shout, turning around to make eye contact with a slightly desperate Kyle, giant wings opened in despair as his feathers perked up. As you both stare at eachother in alarm, his wings started to close behind him again, feathers still looking just a bit frazzled.

"Oh, hatchling, don't scare me like that..." He crooned softly, crooned, eyes going all gentle as he approached.

The croon caught you a bit off guard as you kept your guard up, eyes wide still looking at his direction. You didn't hear these weird noises often, even if you had basically only hybrid classmates at school. The croon sounded weird, but also... soft. Conforting, you could say.

"I though you had left." He murmur quietly, kneeling in front of you to try and get closer to your height. It didn't work very well, as he was still bigger even tho he was kneeling. If anything, it only made you more scared. "You're a quiet little thing, huh? Don't be scared, baby, i'm safe..." He crooned again, all soft and gooey.

Like he wasn't being all snarky and ironic with his mates just seconds ago.

Freaking... wolf in sheep clothing........... and he's not even the werewolf.

You finally managed to calm down a bit, as you breathed in quietly and nodded at him, curling just a little bit into your own body. You could see his wings shuffling at his sides, hands opening for a second before they were forced into fists quickly (before they could reach for you).

"We have dinner ready, sweetie. You'll like Si's food, he's a very good cook. Well, we all are." He smiles a bit, like he was boosting himself as a little joke. "It's cold, so we made stew. It's chicken noddle stew, do you like it, baby?"

The... baby voice, the very subtle baby voice was certainly... embarrassing. Tho, you still nodded quietly at his gentle and quiet tone, making him smile a bit bigger.

"Let's go eat then, uh?"

He murmured gently, giant hand with talons closing around your much smaller hand, so small it was completely enveloped by his warmth. You didn't really want to hold his hand, but he didn't give you much option, as he got up, still slightly bend down, and gently tugged you with him to the kitchen.

You followed.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Monster!König finding indoor(?) Cat!Reader (Scottish fold?) in the Infirmary for arthritis, and or a wound from the battlefield (they weren't supposed to be on)

Poor thing. Your type of pet cat hybrids were bred specifically to be cute - and utterly useless in real fights. You have limb problems, you have trouble with movement, and your adorable folded ears and soft features are making you a target for any monster who wants to take you in as a breeder. Even though you're a feline with a set of claws and canines, you were stripped to the barest of fighting instinct - your claws cut down, your teeth barely able to break through the tough skin of the stronger hybrids. Such a poor excuse for a predator, it's no wonder you got injured. Konig just surprised you even snook into battle - usually, the monsters are very careful about the breeding stock. A helpless thing like you should be kept in the safety of the barracks, bound to some high-ranking officer who could treat you right. Fuck you full of kittens, use you as a pretty little wife and bring you food so you won't have to use your dull claws and poor legs to hunt. But, oh, it seems like there was a mistake. Poor thing, it's a wonder you even survived for that long - with the joint problems that most of the Scottish folds have, you could have been gravely injured in battle months ago. Oh, but he kinda likes that little fighting tingle in your eyes. You'd make for a good breeding mate - biting when needed, and all soft cuddled and little kisses whenever he would find you in heat and need of a dozen eggs stuffed in your pussy. You don't recognize him, you don't even know who that is - a mistake on your part, not knowing your colonel - but you will know him very closely in a few weeks after he takes you with him. Oh, you're not allowed on the field anymore, obviously. He will have the best doctor watch over your joints and help you with any pain you might feel, but you're definitely not leaving his quarters for a long time. If you're good, he will let you walk around the base with a collar on - and a little bell, adorned with some fancy ribbons, so you won't get lost anymore. don't worry, pretty kitty, he will make sure to take care of you. Whether you like it or not.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Ferine.

Pairing: Yandere!Toji x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 4.1k.

TW: Hybrid AU, Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Slight Manipulation, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Knotting, Mentions of Blood + Violence, Slight Breeding, and Biting.

Toji was, by far, the largest hybrid you’d ever taken care of.

Which, technically speaking, wasn’t that big of an accomplishment. This was barely your third month at the research facility, and you could count the number of hybrids you’d encountered before being hired here on a single hand. Still, even compared to the other wolves you currently looked after, Toji was beyond impressive. His long, pointed ears and stocky build set him well above six-foot, and even if he’d lacked height, he would’ve been able to make up for it with the planes of sculpted muscle circled around his biceps and thighs, laid over his chest and back. Top it all off with a set of claws each longer than your pointer finger and sharp enough to pierce reinforced steel, and he was practically fit for exhibit. Not that Toji could ever actually be a show dog, no – he’d tear the judges apart before they’d so much as heard his name. He was sweet, but he had a temper. You had to be careful not to set him off.

His fangs were impressive, too – perfectly in-tact despite years of less-than-adequate care, only a touch duller than a real wolf’s. You were careful not to let your hand stray from where it cupped his cheek as you looked for signs of damage or rot only to, of course, come up empty. The longer you spent with him, the more convinced you were that nothing could actually hurt Toji, even if the faded scar stitched into the corner of his mouth suggested otherwise.

“All done,” you started, letting go of his cheek. Immediately, Toji’s jaw snapped shut with enough strength to take off a finger, had you given him the chance. “Perfect as always, Toji. I think you might be my best patient.”

A cocky smile found its way to his lips, and you could hear his tail beating lazily against the dirt floor of his enclosure. The facility was committed to replicating the natural environments of their more exotic hybrids as closely as possible, even if Toji claimed he’d trade it all for a punching bag, or better yet, something ‘real’ to dig his teeth into, whatever that meant. “Do I get a treat, doc?”

It was asked playfully, but still, you hummed by way of confirmation, pulling your duffle bag into your lap and fishing Toji’s well-earned rewards – a generic chocolate bar and a can of some painfully acidic, sickeningly sweet brand of soda your hybrid patients couldn’t seem to get enough of. It was a meager prize, but it was as much as you were able to spare considering how strict his caretakers were when it came to his diet. You’d probably save yourself a few dirty looks if you didn’t give him anything at all, but it didn’t feel right to leave him empty-handed.

He accepted your humble offering greedily. While the chocolate bar was stowed away for later consumption, the can was pierced with a clawed thumb and emptied in one long, unpleasantly audible swig. You’d only started to push yourself to your feet when Tojj finished, letting the now empty can fall to the ground before turning his attention back to you. “It hurts my feelings, knowing you’re just gonna run off and put your hands on another animal.” His ear pressed flat against his scalp, as if he was trying (and failing) to feign disappointment. “If I didn’t know better, I’d start to think you didn’t really care about all the time we’ve spent together.”

“You’re not exactly in desperate need of medical attention,” you chided, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “And I’m on a schedule. Not all of us can sit around, grooming ourselves all day.”

That earned a breathy laugh, a coy lilt to his smile. “Well, if you wanted to take a shot at it, I wouldn’t—”

“Save it. I get enough of that with the cats.” Just thinking about it made you grimace. It was one thing to think that Toji might bite you. Knowing Satoru and Suguru – the bonded leopard and panther pair who shared a check-up date with Toji – would insist on licking any exposed skin raw before letting you do your job was a much more tangible reality. “I’ll see you in a couple of days. You’ll be good until then, right?”

“I’m gonna gut those fucking strays.” His answer was blunt, immediate, but he cracked as soon you shot him a purse-lipped frown. “Kidding, kidding. I’ll just rough ‘em up a little – make ‘em regret putting their paws on you, y’know?”

You couldn’t help but soften. Toji was rough around the edges, but he wasn’t a bad dog. He just had a protective streak and that, paired with his brash personality and tendency to bite before he barked, was enough for most people to write him off.

You really did have a long, long list of other appointments you had to get to before the end of the day, but against your better judgement, you paused as you passed him, reaching down to rake your fingers through sleek black hair. He was stoic, especially for a hybrid, but even his cool, dark eyes and wry smile couldn’t hide the way his tail moved just a little faster at the feeling of your nails raking over his scalp, his ears immediately perking up. It only took a second for him to bat your hand away, but you only laughed as you started towards the staff exit, waving to Toji over your shoulder.

Maybe, for his next check-up, you’d see if you could sneak in something special.

~

“Your mutt’s been unruly, lately.”

You glanced up from your clipboard, turning your full attention to Nanami and quickly finding that he hadn’t paid you the same courtesy. He was one of the senior researchers and, so far, the only one you could stand to be around for any longer than a few minutes. Since the higher-ups expected you to fill out your reports with one hand while you took a four-hundred-pound tiger’s temperature with the other, you tended to camp out in Nanami’s office when you had paperwork to file. “Toji?” Nanami nodded, and you rolled your eyes. “I’m just the vet, Kento. If his handlers aren’t doing their—”

“The problem isn’t his handlers, it’s him.”

His voice was flat, his tone icy. You laid your clipboard over your lap, crossing your arms over your chest. “He’s an animal. It’d be more out of character if he didn’t lash out occasionally.”

Nanami opened his mouth, but closed it just as quickly. After a lengthy pause, he leaned back in his seat, bringing a hand to his temples and massaging absentmindedly. “Do you know why he hasn’t been released back into the wild, yet?”

Obviously. Working with hybrids – let alone exotic hybrids – was dangerous, and your debriefing had drilled the face, name, and background of every animal in the facility into your memory. “He was born in captivity. He’s too acclimated to human society to adjust to the wilderness.”

Nanami pressed his lips into a thin line – an expression you’d learned to read as ‘you’re right, but I’m not going to say that’. Still, a degree of satisfaction accompanied his silent confirmation. “He was found in a dog fighting ring – or, what was left of one, at least. It took three rounds of sedation and two broken muzzles before our recovery team was able to get him under control.”

A knot formed at the base of your throat. Fuck chocolate, Toji deserved a blanket and as many hugs as he would let you give him. “That’s terrible, Kento. Were the organizers arrested?”

“The organizers—” Nanami straightened. “—were found mauled and stuffed into a kennel. Their bodies were so thoroughly mutilated, we had to rely on blood samples to identify them.”

“Wolves aren’t known for attacking unprovoked. It could’ve been another—”

“One of his handlers is currently hospitalized,” Nanami went on, as if you hadn’t cut in. “And two have already turned in their resignations – a resounding fear for their welfare in the workplace, supposedly.”

Your eyes fell to the floor, and that knot in your throat tightened until only the barest whisper could find its way out. “He’s not a bad dog,” you muttered, nearly under your breath. “He just— He loses his temper, sometimes. He doesn’t mean to hurt anymore.”

“He’s never tried to hurt you?”

You didn’t have to think before shaking your head. “Never.”

That, of all things, seemed to catch Nanami’s attention. For the first time, his eyes flickered briefly to you before falling back to his desk, his paperwork. “Good,” he said, marking down something on a piece of scrap paper in front of him. If he felt the need to elaborate, he clearly didn’t deem it worth the effort.

Later that day, you were informed that you were being transferred to the reptile wing indefinitely. If you’d been there for a few more months, if you’d had a little more experience to throw around, if you’d had a little more authority, you might’ve protested, but it was all you could do to nod and set to memorizing your new schedule.

~

It took exactly three weeks for you to see Toji again.

One of his handlers – a woman in her early twenties sporting a pressed scowl and a gauze-padded bandage on her cheek – met you at the facility’s gates and flatly told you that Toji was injured. You’d never been in the facilities (much less with a hybrid) after sundown, and in the simulated wilderness of his enclosure, it was easy to forget that you were never more than twenty feet away from a security camera, that there was only one apex predator you had to be afraid of. After checking your usual meeting spot (clear spot near the center of his enclosure – neutral territory, safe territory) and finding it vacant, you reluctantly stumbled your way to his den, dragging your feet despite the urgency of the situation. Toji wouldn’t deliberately attack you, but any animal could react if provoked. You didn’t want to set him off. More importantly, you didn’t want to prove Nanami right.

You’d never ventured far enough to see his den, but you knew what to expect. A square shell of cement occupied the deepest corner of Toji’s enclosure, bracketed off by a metal door tucked inside of a deep entryway meant to give the illusion of privacy. You approached it slowly, stepping underneath the shadowed overhang with no small amount of caution, but you didn’t get the chance to knock before a hand manifested on your shoulder and shoved you against the cold steel.

Claws bit into to the dip of your shoulder, then your wrist, too, as he caught your hand and shoved it into the small of your back. You felt hot air on the nape of your neck, heard heavy panting laced with the barest trace of a throaty growl, and it took everything you had not to panic, not to struggle, not to give him a reason to dig his teeth into your neck and tear. Toji wasn’t a bad dog, but he was still a dog. He’d still bite, if given an excuse.

“Toji,” you started, slowly, taking care to soften each harsh syllable of his name. “I’m here to help you.”

He didn’t respond, his hold only tightening. His check pressed into your back, and there was a short, airy noise – sniffing, as little as you wanted to put a name to it. “Toji,” you repeated, with more urgency. “I heard you were hurt. Will you let me help you?”

A second passed in silence, then another. Finally, he pulled away from you, releasing your wrist first, then your shoulder. He remained where he was – a little too close, a little too looming – as you shuffled to face him, forcing yourself not to consciously acknowledge that you were in a very big cage with a very poorly behaved animal. His handlers hadn’t mentioned why they’d needed you, but you didn’t have to wonder for very long. Even in the pitch dark, you could see the dark blood covering his jaw, washed over his throat and chest. It was on his hands, too, coating the white bone of his claws, and matted into his dark hair. Your waning self-control faltered then shattered altogether, your hands shooting to his head, his face, searching for bruising or swelling or broken bones, but surprisingly, all your worry earned was an airy laugh. “It’s not mine, doc.” He laid a hand over yours. “I’m doin’ just fine. Even better, now that you’re here.”

But he wasn’t. Twin sets of puncture marks were littered across his throat, his face, his arms. Something had taken a chunk out of his left bicep, and five matching scratch marks had been etched deep into the skin of his chest. The wounds looked feline, but you couldn’t bring yourself to linger on the implications. “You’re hurt,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. Your hands fell to his shoulders, pushing him downward gently. “I— I’ve got bandages, and sutures—” You let your bag fall from your shoulder to your elbow, already reaching for the zipper. “Find somewhere to sit. We should get you cleaned up before something worse sets in.”

Panic was quickly overshadowing your better judgement, but Toji didn’t move, didn’t look away from you. He was still wearing that coy, sardonic grin – almost teasing, given your anxiety. “I already told you, I’m just fine.” His smile widened, until his pointed fangs caught in the dim light. “I didn’t think you’d actually come. They said I could ask for whatever I wanted, but—” He paused, sucked in a sharp breath. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

“Toji, you’re not making any sense. You need help.” Again, you pushed gently on his shoulders, and again, he didn’t seem to notice. This time, though, he shifted, leaned toward you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You scowled, shoving a little less gently on his chest, but Toji didn’t move. “Toji, please, just let me help—”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, princess.” You felt his hands on your waist, then your ass. His chest was slotted against yours, and his tongue ran unabashedly over the curve of your neck once, then twice before he went on. “Keep sayin’ my name like that, and I won’t be able to control myself.”

Something pressed into your thigh – hot and hard and, like the rest of Toji, fucking huge. Your heart fell into your stomach, the air flooding out of your lungs and leaving you dazed, breathless.

Fuck. Fuck.

You should’ve stuck with the fucking reptiles.

Toji was panting audibly, again; his tongue lapping over your neck, your cheek. You were still cursing yourself for ever applying for this shitty job in the first place when Toji fell to his knees, forcing your thighs onto his shoulders as his claws caught on the fabric of your pants, decimating the thin material in an instant. His teeth tore away your panties just as quickly, leaving you exposed, splayed out on a silver platter in front of him. You reacted reflectively – knotting your fingers in his hair and doing your best to pry him away from you, but your strength was nothing compared to his and in the end, all you earned was a throaty groan, a tight squeeze to your ass before he buried his face in your cunt. His teeth grazed against the tender insides of your thighs, his claws biting into your now-unprotected skin, but the feeling of his tongue laving over the length of your slit replaced every other sensation with pure heat.

Predictably, he was near animalistic – his thick tongue fucking into you as the bridge of his nose ground shamelessly into your clit. From a distance, it would’ve been hard to tell if he was trying to eat you out or eat you alive; every noise he made feral and wet, punctuated with rough growls and little, uncharacteristic whines. It would’ve been impossible not to feel anything, but still, you couldn’t help but hate yourself when it started to feel good. His tongue was thick and textured, long enough to fill your pussy and flexible enough to curl inside of you, abusing the walls of your cunt without mercy. It was difficult to tell how much of the gloss staining his chin and the inside of your thighs was his drool and how much of it was your arousal, but even if your mind was disgusted by every slick noise and sharp flick of his tongue, there was nothing your body could do to block out the sudden pang of heat in your core, to fight the way your legs ached to clench around his head and pull the source of your revulsion that much closer.

“To—Toji, no, st—” you tried to say, like you were scolding a normal dog, like any part of you still thought he was listening. A cracked moan cut you off prematurely, and even if it hadn’t, Toji’s only response was a bruising squeeze to your ass, a low moan just loud enough to reverberate against your sensitive clit. Blinding white flashed across your vision, and before you could stop, before you could bring yourself back from that edge, you were coming undone on his tongue, your hips bucking against his face as he nursed you through your mind-numbing climax. Rather than pull away, he forced his tongue that much deeper into your pussy – taking advantage of your hypersensitivity to drag another unwilling orgasm out of you, then another, until the dried blood smeared across his lips was tacky and dripping onto your skin. He only pulled away when your little, pained sounds began to die into half-choked pleas and your limited strength failed, leaning you limp and boneless on top of him, and even then, he took the time to drag his tongue over your slit, to lap up what would’ve been wasted slick. You would’ve given anything for him to just leave you like that – messy and covered in your own arousal, but unfortunately, Toji had never been a bad dog.

His gaze flitted up to meet yours. “Sorry, princess,” he muttered, when he saw the misery knitted into your expression. The broad grin he wore was anything but apologetic, though. “Might’ve gotten carried away after all. Can’t help it – you always come to me, smellin’ like other men, and nobody ever lets me do anything about it.” He nuzzled into the inside of your thigh, nipping at the tender flesh with just enough force to break the skin. There was a tight pinch, of bright spark of pain, but Toji tended to the minimal wound lovingly, running his tongue over the thin stream of blood. “Gonna have you nice n’ scented by the end of the night.” A sharp whimper slipped past your grit teeth as the points of his fangs grazed over your skin, and Toji sighed. “Gonna have you nice n’ bred, too, if you keep making those sounds.”

Bred. Bred. Bred. You turned the offensive word over in your mind, unable to grasp what it possibly could’ve meant, as Toji carefully lowered you onto the ground – never so much as toying with the idea of fucking you into anything other than the cold, raw earth. It wasn’t until his clawed hand fell to the hard, pulsing cock standing stiffly between his legs that you were able to fully process what he’d said, what he was threatening to do to you. Your thoughts went blank, your years of veterinary school and countless hours of animal-handling training and common sense all dissolving into total nonexistence in an instant. It didn’t matter that he was taller than you, stronger than you – you were already throwing your full weight against him, scratching at his chest with your blunt nails, doing everything in your so incredibly limited power just to get away from him. Your latest wave of resistance wasn’t enough to overwhelm him, but it earned a frustrated rumble at the base of his throat, a downward quirk to his cocky smile. Your nails caught one of the puncture marks on his cheek and, reflexively, he straightened his back, brought his hand to his face, left just enough space between your body and his for you to roll onto your chest and scramble desperately towards freedom. You’d barely gotten your knees underneath you when his hand lashed out, catching you by the collar and forcing your cheek into the soil. His chest pressed into your back, his legs caging yours in on either side, and worst of all, his cock throbbed against your ass – somehow, impossibly, harder than it’d been a few seconds ago. You might’ve jotted it down as an impressive display of canine resilience, if you hadn’t felt so desolated.

“Shoulda figured you wouldn’t make this easy on yourself.” His voice was rougher than it had been, but no less self-satisfied. That made sense. Wolves were endurance predators. He would’ve come into this expecting there to be a struggle. “I thought you’d be more of a mate than a bitch, but—” He paused, his mouth settling against the nape of your neck. “—either’s fine by me.”

You clenched your eyes shut. “Please, Toji, don’t do—”

But, it was already too late. He rutted your ass once, then twice, before his tip caught on the entrance to your abused pussy and he was inside of you, fully sheathed without a trace of resistance.

Toji was big, even for a hybrid. He was a hunter, tried and true, all muscle and agility and pure, unfaltering strength. Even with his generous (albeit, unwelcomed) prep, it was all you could do to convince yourself that his cock wouldn’t tear you apart. He was thick enough to press against every soft and sensitive spot inside of you, long enough to leave a tight knot of pressure sitting in the pit of your stomach, and when he started to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, the force alone was enough to scatter little black spots in the corner of your vision and leave you hazy, light-headed. The way he was fucking into you didn’t help anything, either. Keening whines slipped out of some deep, feral pocket of his chest as he took advantage of your vulnerable cunt, alternating between grinding into you with a desperate sort of clinginess and trying to bully his way that much deeper with bruising, brutal thrusts. One arm wrapped around your midriff, dragging you even close to him, while a groping hand found the delicate buttons of your top and tore, ridding you of what was left of your protection against him. He kneaded half-consciously at your chest as he fucked into you; his own pleasure suddenly his only priority.

His selfishness should’ve been a welcome change, but you were too far gone, your body too eager to find a silver lining to his rough affection. Your hands clawed mindlessly at the ground as he pumped into you, the heat of his body against yours clouding your senses and making the feeling of cock stretching you open, his dull head pounding against your cervix all the more unbearable. You doubted he’d be able to talk, even if he’d had anything left to say, but he was still vocal enough. Raspy groans and harsh grunts rung distantly in your ears, his calloused hands groping mercilessly at your chest, your stomach, your waist. Finally, his thumb found its way to your neglected clit, and with less than a full second of stimulation, you were buckling into yourself, clamping down around his cock with a fractured whimper. As humiliated as you were, Toji wasn’t far behind. With something between a moan and a howl, he was cumming inside of you – predictably making no attempt to pull out. Something hot and vile flooded into you, but it was hard to focus on that when you could feel something hard and bloated and wrong press into your entrance. Toji’s breath hitched as he forced his knot into your tight cunt, and whatever hope you had for coming out of this unscathed curled up and died inside of you.

You could feel him slacken on top of you. You almost thought he would collapse like that, leave you locked to him and trapped under his weight, but instead, he nuzzled against the crook of your neck, his fangs ghosting over your throat before sinking into the soft flesh just underneath your jugular. He stayed like that, his knot splitting open your pussy and his teeth buried in your neck, until you lost any hope of him ever pulling away.

Exhausted, you shut your eyes, sinking into yourself. You’d been right, in a way. Toji wasn’t a bad dog.

He was just a terrible terrible man.

[slut4monsterz]

Yan!wolfdog hcs ᰔ

yan!wolfdog that practically towers over you, a big burly guy with a thick coat of black fur and huge fluffy ears.

yan!wolfdog that you picked up from your local shelter life was getting kinda boring so why not foster a hybrid?

The shelter informs you that yan!wolfdog probably wouldn't be the best choice. Something about not liking men and having aggression problems...but if you didn't take him who would? The thought of leaving him there all alone made you a bit sad, so even with the staff trying their best to advise you to pick one of the softer, smaller hybrid you walked out with him in hopes of finding him a forever home.

yan!wolfdog who has no intention of ever leaving you once he sets his eyes on you. he decides that day that you're his and he's yours. no human has ever been this nice to him before :(( he basically struts into your house like he owns the place and makes himself comfortable.

yan!wolfdog that refuses to sleep in the very expensive bed you bought him. he just likes yours better. the first few nights you let it slide..but then it becomes a problem. he basically takes up the whole bed!! so you start locking your door at night, he does not like that one bit. he scratches, barks, and whines at the door all night. for days. has a smug little look on his face when you finally give up and open the door, now contemplating buying a bigger bed.

yan!wolfdog that doesn't believe in personal space. he will he snuggled up to you 24/7, def makes you late for work all the time bc he likes to just flop on top of you and refuse to get up

yan!wolfdog that you tried to get used to men, but he absolutely hated it. every time you brought another man over he would bare his teeth and bark like a madman, but then they would leave, and his demeanor would completely flip and he'd be your sweet boy again.

yan!wolfdog that loves going for walks w you = scary dog privileges. people usually avoid you at all costs when you're out in public with him especially because you don't leash him (more like he refuses to wear one and you don't have enough strength to wrestle it on him)

yan!wolfdog who's just the biggest sweetheart ever!! how can you ever get rid of him now?

this turned out to b more fluffy then i wanted might write smth else later :3