#Hybrid!reader

[livfastdieyoung69]

john price and the belgian malinois!hybrid who refuses to listen to anyone but him about ANYTHING.

like, gives johnny a side eye when he suggests that they should go eat, scowls at simon when he tells them to get dressed because it’s time to go on their next recon. kyle has realized that it’s smarter to offer things, or just coincidentally bring them up instead.

she’s even worse in the mornings- sometimes just flat out refuses to get out of bed. she has her own room, but it’s bare, and the few belongings she brought have slowly integrated into prices room along with her.

it’s one of the mornings where she won’t get up. as much as john loves her, he’s pretty over it. while he’s eating breakfast he sends gaz to deal with it, but gaz just comes back and says she’s not in her room.

john sends him back to his room, because she infiltrated on him last night, but gaz just comes back and says she’s not there either. john starts getting a little worried, so he gets up with a couple grumbles to go check for himself with kyle trailing back behind him.

if he hadn’t known the lump on the foot of the bed wasn’t a crumpled up blanket, john wouldnt have know it was her either. but his pup, she loves sleeping on the wrong end of the bed. he flips the thin comforter up, and sure enough, she’s all curled up with the dog plushy johnny brought her back from his trip home.

(technically it’s a german sheppard but she still loves it. she might not listen to them, but she loves her other boys. they just…aren’t john.)

he pets down the back of her hair, before letting his hand rest on her shoulder. her legs stretch out, and she does that thing pet dogs/cats do where there head is upside down and her stomach is up. one of her fluffy ears is squished between the mattress and her head, and a canine is poking out.

john can tell she’s waiting for him to rub her tummy, but if he doesn’t withhold it, there’s no way she’ll get up. plus, he’s quite sure she wouldn’t want gaz, or anyone else, really, to see her leaning into her dog instincts in such a way. less military dog, more domesticated puppy.

she shoots right up, fumbling to put sweatpants over her swatting tail when he promises a bit of extra whipped cream after breakfast.

[mommyslittlebird]

Thinking about those trends where a dog owner pretends to talk on the phone and uses a bunch of phrases in the conversation to make the dog really excited. But it’s Wanda talking to Nat trying to get puppy worked up.

“Hey, Natty. What are you up to this afternoon.”

Just the simple mention of Natasha’s shortened name had your head turned, practically snapping up from where you were laying on the couch.

“Oh, nothing much, just sitting here with my good puppy.”

You “subtly” slid across the couch, inching closer and closer to Wanda.

“I was thinking maybe we could take a walk in the park. Maybe stop and get a treat.”

Now she really had your attention. You laid your head conspicuously in her lap, looking up at her.

“We could bring Bowie. Play some fetch.”

You whined quietly, pawing at her when she didn’t pay you any mind.

“Maybe afterwards we could go for a drive. Maybe even have snuggles with mama and Natty while we watch Animal Planet.”

“Mama…” you whispered. You knew better than to interrupt her while on the phone, but you were practically spilling over with excitement. “Mama I can come with you? I come with you mama.”

“Hmm… I don’t know if puppy would be up for that. They’ve been pretty tired. Maybe they’d just like to stay home.”

That was the final nail in the coffin. You finally shouted over the phone. “Mama!” You pawed at her hand, sending the phone clattering to the ground. Your entire face was pinched with worry. You truly believed Wanda was about to go and do all of those things without you.

Even when Wanda started laughing, you continued to paw at her arm. She pulled you into her lap. “Calm down, puppy. Natty and I were just teasing. We would never leave you behind,” she assured.

You let out a long whine. “That wasn’t very nice mama!” You pouted, looking furiously up at Wanda.

She simply kissed your head, brushing back your hair. “No, that wasn’t very nice of mama, was it sweetheart. I tell you what, to make it up to you, Natty and will take you to the park and we can do all those things we talked about. Deal?”

You still pouted, angry and grumpy about the idea of Wanda playing such a cruel prank on you, but you couldn’t keep your tail from wagging at the thought of a nice day in the park.

You conceded.

“Fine. Deal.”

Puppy Collection

[rasberrybabez]

Just thinking abt a bunny!hybrid reader and handler!Price… (he’s been my obsession lately, if you couldn’t tell)

But like what is your handler to do when his sweet little bunny is all muddled and blushing and just so hot all day? She’s rubbing up against tables and whining and whining, and really just spending oh so long in the bathroom?

The poor thing must be in heat.

So Price, naturally, as any good hybrid handler does, fucks her silly.

He has you over the table of the common room because really, he couldn’t make you wait that long. He’s just doing you a service, and if the men walk in? Maybe they’ll help too.

So he fucks you real good.

Rutting into you when he’s only pulling out an inch or two, not wanting to leave your soft heat. You little scut wagging in pleasure as his thick cock rocks into you, not at all soft.

Bunnies don’t mate gently, now do they?

He tugging on your ears and grinding his tip against the sweet, gummy spots in your cervix just barely breaching the muscle. Heavy, breeding balls slapping against your clit, your every essence dripping down to soak his thighs. A thick ring of cream around his cock, and God help him he comes at the sight.

There’s no need for condoms when you’re just begging to carry his kits anyways.

���pt. 2

[chimera-dreams]

Shifting was never an easy task, not for Simon, and not for you.

It’s rare that Simon finds time to himself between being at base and being on an op. True alone time, with nothing to do, and nobody to do anything with. 

His ride won’t arrive for two days, and Price (quite firmly) advised him to ‘enjoy the scenery, Norway is stunning this time of year, son.’ Really, Simon doesn’t give two fucks about the scenery or the apparent good weather, no, that’s not the reason he’s grateful to be isolated at a safehouse for the next day and a half.

It’s because of you.

Rather, more specifically, the freedom it allows you, short as the time may be. You’ve been cooped up (pun only slightly intended) in your raven form for several weeks now, as your mate has been sent from one mission to the next back to back, hardly any time to catch your breath, let alone free yourself from your feathered body. Now, you can stretch your arms (done enough of stretching your wings, frankly) and relax.

After shifting, of course.

Simon lifts you to his masked face and presses a featherlight kiss to your beak through the material before he sets you on the ground, your talons clicking against the concrete floor. You tilt your head, caw at him quietly, and see the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

“Not goin’ anywhere, lovie, take your time,” he assures you.

He watches you lift your wings and ruffle out your feathers, head shaking, plumage fluffing up. He knows you’re gathering your nerve. You can crow and bay about being stuck in this form all you want (which you do), but actually changing out of it is a different beast to tackle. It makes you anxious, he knows, he understands. If he could take away the pain, he would. Anything that dares to hurt you, he crushes without remorse, but being unable to do so for this one thing is torturous. All he can do is watch, and he hates it.

With as deep of a breath as your little avian lungs can take in, you close your eyes and concentrate. For a second, nothing happens, but then–

It starts with your ribs fracturing, heart growing too large to be contained inside their bony embrace. Your wings lose their feathers, bones stretching and distorting, muscles tearing to reconstruct themselves into the correct shape. Your beak shrinks back, the pure coal shade altering to match your natural skintone, shine reducing, keratin flaking off in large chunks. Your talons scratch at the concrete, legs mangling to develop an anatomy not built to resemble anything birdlike at all. 

It’s a nightmare to witness from start to end. It’s one thing to experience it himself, to feel as his body breaks itself apart to become something else – he’s far too used to experiencing pain – but to see you go through it makes him sick. If only, if only–

Your choked cry distracts him from his swirling thoughts of regret and revenge, and he’s reaching out in an instant to grasp your arms, fingers looping around skin, rather than feathers. He pulls you into his chest, and you go willingly, coughing and groaning as the last of your transformation ebbs away, leaving you bare and shivering. 

The blanket he prepared earlier, thin and shitty but better than nothing, gets thrown over your body, covering most of you, as he murmurs reassurances and praise in that gravely voice of his. It rumbles through him, vibrates past your ribs, into your soul, a kind of soothing comfort that only he can give to you.

“There she is,” he says, rubbing up and down the length of your spine. “There’s my pretty girl.”

You exhale heavily, eyes squeezed shut, chin propped up on his shoulder. “That sucked.”

“I know, swee’eart,” he assures, nuzzling into your jaw. “I know. ‘S over now.”

The pain is gone, long gone, vanished as soon as you wriggled your fingers and toes, but the memory persists, the nausea that swirls in your gut. The nuts and berries he fed you earlier suddenly feel like pebbles in a large lake, not nearly enough to make a ripple in your hunger.

You let him coo at you and coax you down from your stressed state, easing you into his lap, legs thrown over one thigh, back supported by the other that he has upright. He brushes stray strands of hair from your forehead, his mask discarded at his side so he can pepper kisses all over your face, calloused thumbs rubbing across your cheeks over and over.

“Been too long since I’ve seen ya face, birdie,” he tells you, his lips moving against the corner of your mouth. “Almos’ forgot how pretty ya were.”

You snort at him. “Charmer.”

He huffs and kisses your forehead. An arm coils around your waist and tugs you further into him, eliminating as much space as possible between you. With his free hand, the one that’s not drawing shapes into your skin, he reaches into his pack behind him and pulls out a couple granola bars, dropping them onto your lap. You scrabble to get them, tearing open the first package and gnawing on the chunky, stiff food like a dog given a bone.

“‘Oo shoo’d shiff, doo, fish ‘our fea-fers,” you suggest around your meager meal, uncaring of manners.

Simon feels differently, sighing into your hair. “Finish ya bite first, you wally,” he grumbles.

You scowl at him, but do as you’re told, chewing away until it’s safe for you to swallow and not risk choking. “Said, you should shift, too, fix your feathers and stuff. Who knows when you’ll get the chance to preen again?”

The monolith of a man – how did he manage to stuff all that excess…everything into a tiny (subjectively) bird body? phrasing, of course – grunted in disagreement, absentmindedly massaging your hip. “And miss quali’y time with my girl? Not a chance, swee’eart.”

Despite how you playfully roll your eyes, you snuggle into his warmth, breathing in the scent of him. Leather and gunsmoke, eyeblack and faded menthol, cling to him like a second skin. It’s a familiar scent, a safe one; it lets you know that, no matter what, you’ll always be protected, always looked after. He’s right, it’s been too long since you could hold each other like this, coexist in the same space as the same entity.

As if sensing your thoughts, he tilts your chin up so he can press a chaste, precious kiss to your lips. “Missed ya,” he confesses.

“You always see me,” you point out. “Every day.”

“Not like this.”

You chirrup, a reflexive response. He chuckles at your flustered expression, but answers back with a deep trill of his own.

Your eyes close as you lean into him, nosing at his cheek. “And here I thought you got sick of seeing me in this form.”

“Never,” he promises.

inspired by the incredibly lovely @beloveds-embrace's raven!Simon and raven!reader. they've been on my mind a LOT recently, and I have many many thoughts about them. might write more...

[uglygirltrying]

bunny!reader and hare!simon!!!

hare!simon who finds himself a cute, little bunny, and takes them for himself. bunny!reader with soft, fluffy ears, and small cotton ball tail, that twitches and flutters in excitement. bunny!reader is round and soft, the sweetest thing that her mate has ever seen. all that fluff, pressed against hare!simon's abdomen when he pounds into her, and mutters into her ear about kits... hare!simon with a dirty fur and a dirty mind, scars and thinning fur, but a passion for keeping his mates pure white fur clean hare!simon who leads his bunny to calm river, taking a dip into it with her in his lap hare!simon who sniffs his bunny's neck for that sweet aroma, nipping the skin there, while his cock slips inside her. the water around them splashes while the dirty and scarred hare dumbs his load into his bunny's cunt. bunny!reader who whines at a sudden, strange, new smell that wafts through the air. hare!simon whose ears tense up at the same time, but not at her whine, but at the sounds from the forest around them. hare!simon who immediately stands up, ushering bunny!reader out of the water and behind him. hare!simon whose chest puffs out, when fox!graves stalks towards them, out of the bushes, a mischievous smirk on the carnivores face. hare!simon who's always ready to fight, kill, and die for his mate.

[bunnibabs]

˖ 𑣲 rafe cameron x hyper!feminine!cat!reader

contains: obx au, hyper!feminine!cat!reader!, reader is a hybrid (if that isn’t obvious enough), rafe is touchy, implications that reader dresses a bit revealingly, fem!reader but no feminine pronouns are used, kissing, smut, reader being in heat, oral (f receiving), p in v, reverse cowgirl, doggy, breeding kink if you squint, implications that reader gets pregnant

not proofread

rafe cameron who finds himself spending ridiculous amounts of money on hyper!feminine!cat!reader. takes you to malls, acting all disinterested and watching you try on dozens of dresses and skirts and tiny little tops with that impassive face of his, but he doesn’t ever hesitate to give you his credit card when you asks for it. “you’re such a spoilt little thing,” he complains, but if you ever even mention paying for yourself when you go out to those fancy restaurants downtown, he will be offended for the entire night.

rafe cameron who always has to be physically close to you. a hand around your hip when you walk together, or petting your head while you lay in his lap and watch television. he loves it when you wrap your tail around his forearm or thigh casually. he’ll tell you to sit on his lap while you do your makeup in the morning and he’ll fall asleep with his arm around you late at night. all you have to do is nuzzle your pretty little face again him and immediately, you’ll get all the scratches that you want, because he loves giving you the attention.

rafe cameron who laughs at you whenever you complain about your lip combo being ruined after he kisses you. he plants his hand on be back of your head, pulling you in to capture your lips, catching you completely off guard and making your ears and tail perk up. “rafey!” you whine once he lets you go, “you know i just finished my makeup and my lip combo looked soo good!” your tail sways behind you as you stare up at him with slightly furrowed brows, but he just chuckles and tells you that it’s just lipgloss and that you can put some more on.

rafe cameron who immediately notices when you start showing him more attention that you usually do, rubbing your head against his cheek and constantly wanting to climb on top of him. he doesn’t mind it, of course, but when the yowling and mewling begin to start he knows just what to do to calm you down before you start to lose it. “stay still.” he orders you in a strict tone, one hand planted firmly on your lower stomach and the other grabbing your ankle to pull your legs apart and immediately, he latches onto your throbbing clit, sucking and licking it while you whine and try to buck your hips up to even get closer to him.

rafe cameron who has no problem with you using him to get yourself off. he simply sits on the couch with his legs spread and his arms crossed while you practically salivate at the sight of his already half erect dick. he simply tells you to ride it and so you do, pawing at it a few times before pulling your panties down from under your skirt and immediately sinking down on his cock, your hands on his knees for support as you start bouncing up and down. your tail hits his face a couple times and he swats it away gently before rolling your skirt up to cup the flesh of your ass. “rafey... ah ah ah, raaafee, mm, it feels sooo goood..!” your moans along with the wet sound your cunt makes around rafe’s dick and your ass cheeks hitting his thighs make for an unholy nature of sounds.

rafe cameron who doesn’t stop until his cum is leaking out of your sore, abused hole. he holds you up by your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he fucks you at a rough, demanding pace. the way his balls slap against your clit leave your brain fuzzy and you claw at the sheets, meowing and whining pitifully. your cunt is wrapped around him so snuggly, he tells you that you’re practically made for him. you arch your back even further when rafe tells you that he’ll cum inside you, sputtering pathetic pleas for him to make you a mama and give you his babies. and, he’ll do just that. by the time your heat is over, rafe’ll be spending even more amounts money on you.

a/n: this was so fun to writeee i don’t think i’ve read cat!reader being hyper feminine before 🙈

[stary-skiess]

Okay so just a random thought that I just had

Human! 141 and wolf! Hybrid reader right? Not much is known about hybrids quite yet besides the basic information of them having similar instincts as their animal counterpart.

You still had human attributes though right? So what's stopping you from enjoying a bit of chocolate? So you sneak off to the little area that you know the guys keep snacks, you're thankful that they have the decency to organize it instead of keeping it an absolute mess. So you quickly find the chocolate and dart back to your room without anyone seeing you

So, this goes on for a while. You sneaking a chocolate bar here and there whenever you're craving gets particularly hard to ignore, all is fine and dandy except for one day. You're doing your normal sneaking into the snack area when suddenly you realize that all of the guys are standing there, you pause mid step as everyone stares at you with a mixture of realization and mild confusion.

" fuckin' hell, that's who's been stealing the chocolate." Ghost says

He sighs heavily as he runs a hand over his face, walking over to you and scruffing you like an unruly pup, taking the already open chocolate for your hand and bringing you over to the rest as you growl in his grip, wiggling in an attempt to escape. Eventually just giving up as you cross your arms

" well I'll be, been wondering why it was disappearing so fast" Price mutters, clearly a bit surprised

The two Sargent's are oddly silent, something flickering through gaz's eyes as he stares at you with mild horror, soap seeming to share his sediment

" but you're a wolf? Isn't chocolate poisonous to wolves and dogs?" Gaz eventuality blurts out, approaching you with surprising speed as he cups your face and inspects it

You just kinda stared at him utterly confused, processing what he said over and over again in your head before you blurt out laughing, nearly doubling over as force yourself to take deep breaths so you can speak

" no- I mean yes, it is but not to a hybrid. I mean at the least I'll get a stomach ache if I eat too much. But If I limit myself, I'm fine." You finally get out, an occasional giggle leaving your lips as you try to calm down

" well, ye learn something every day." Soap mutters, taking the chocolate from ghosts hand and staring at it as if it would share the secrets of the universe

It's safe to say, the team starts to buy extra chocolate whenever possible, just to make sure you have enough

This is my first time posting something like this , I apologize if it isn't the greatest

[girl-lostconnection]

Eating my orange in the dark and thinking about fruit bat hybrid!Reader x hybrid!141.

When they don’t exactly realise that she is not a usual bat and still joke about vampires and drinking blood while their new addition to the team is fucking vegetarian.

Wolf!Ghost makes a joke about bloodsuckers and Reader just gives him a slow blink and says “Lieutenant, my species are frugivores” and leaves him floored because first of all, what the FUCK are frugivores???

Komodo Dragon!Price opens their file back because he thought he was sent a bat as the new underling and the file is like yeah, you got sent a bat. A FRUIT bat, you old geezer.

Harbour Seal!Soap is just astounded by how much fruit they eat (fruit bats are known to eat anywhere from 50% to 150% of their body weight in fruits) while Harpy Eagle!Gaz is thrilled to have someone who finally GETS him (harpy eagles have the largest talons of any living eagle and males have been seen to carry prey roughly half of their own body weight).

Later the pack finds out that fruit bats have not one but two breeding seasons. Reader will need to fight them off with a stick because “back up, lads, I said BACK UP”. After all they are a hybrid, not an actual fruit bat.

[fromthebackyard]

Frothing at the mouth

⋆🐾⋆LEOPARD'S DEN

snow leopard hybrid!gojo x bunny hybrid!femreader

SERIES SYNOPSIS: in a bustling city where hybrids live in coexistence, you, a timid bunny hybrid desperate to escape your family’s suffocating expectations, takes a leap into independence. but when you answer a craigslist ad for a roommate, you find yourself sharing a cramped apartment with satoru gojo — a dazzling, dangerous snow leopard hybrid with a smile as lethal as his claws. bound by necessity, yet tangled in instinct, your uneasy coexistence quickly spirals into a simmering dance of predator and prey — where every glance, every accidental touch, and every late-night silence threatens to shatter the fragile walls between friendship and something far, far more primal.

cw: hybrid setting, predator/prey dynamics, mild to moderate violence, fearplay, dubcon, breeding kink, possessiveness, obsessive behavior, heat / rut cycles, tba

00. pilot

01. chapter one

01.5. minisode 01

02. chapter two

02.5. minisode 02

03. chapter three

04. chapter four

05. chapter five

06. chapter six

[meadow-of-daisies-and-lavender]

Shout out to the hybrid!reader COD writers out there. In the last week I've learned more about random animal habits than I have in years.

[selfcarecap]

Cat & Dog [L.H.]

✧ Logan Howlett x kitty hybrid!reader

✧ summary: Logan rescues you, a kitty hybrid, on a mission and you become infatuated with him. (that’s all the plot you get, the rest is porn lol <3)

✧ warnings: smut 18+, unequal power dynamics bc Logan saves reader (and she’s a bit naive and inexperienced), kitty hybrid!reader (human with kitty ears, a tail, claws and kind of fangs and she purrs), reader’s first time, unprotected piv, oral sex, Logan teases reader a lot, slight daddy kink (like two mentions – still figuring out whether i like it for Logan), implied age gap, pet names (baby, bub, kid (not during sex), sweetheart, kitty — at first mockingly but then not), reader making biscuits on Logan w/ her claws lol, slight pain kink, Logan teaches reader about consent, uh i ignored that the reader’s probably gone through some trauma lool, Logan is indifferent to reader’s feelings for him at first but it changes, reader wears Logan’s hoodie; alternative summary that i thought was too cringe to use: Logan’s a nasty dog and you’re his pretty kitty. 

✧ word count: 5.2k

Logan Howlett is your saviour — the most handsome hero to ever exist.

He finds you on a mission, abandoned like the runt of the litter. The only reason he knows you’re still alive as he carefully approaches you, curled into a ball, is because his strengthened senses allow him to hear your dull heartbeat, and the matted tail at your lower back bristles when you hear him come closer.

“I’ll get you out of here, kid. You’re safe now,” he says, telling you his name and that he’s part of the X-Men. You turn slightly at the sound of one of his claws unsheathing, and watch him use it to pick the lock of the cage you’re being held in.

He opens the door and takes more steps backwards than necessary, “There you go.” 

You’d be able to dart straight past him and escape. You trust him. He smells different from the men that locked you in here, too. Sure, he smells a bit doggish, or like a wolf maybe, but he’s sweaty from fighting men to get to you so you’re not going to complain.

You slowly crawl through the cage door on all fours, feeling his eyes rake over your body. You don’t know why he’s staring – apart from your tail, and, sure, your ears, you have the body of a human – but you don’t mind it. You immediately feel warm in his presence. Everything is about to get better, all thanks to him.

He carries you in his arms when you’re too weak to even stand and you’ve never felt as peaceful and protected as when he holds you, and you cling to him with all the energy you have left. You can’t help but hiss when he puts you down in the seat next to him instead of in his lap to get you home.

-

It’s now been two weeks since you last saw Logan. He gave you his zip hoodie to keep you warm as soon as you got to the mansion and he didn’t leave your side until you were safely in the infirmary. You wish he never left.

They’re insisting on keeping you in here to heal, ignoring every time you ask for Logan. You feel healthy – they’ve even made your tail all pretty and fluffy again – so you take it upon yourself to find him.

You sneak out of the infirmary late at night, and all you have to do to find Logan is follow your senses.

Once you’ve located his room, you push the door open without any thought. He’s in bed but he’s still awake. The light on his nightstand casts a glow over the room and you smile when you finally see him again.

“What’re you doing here, kid?” he asks, sitting up slightly. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers, and you eye the muscles from his chest down to his abdomen, noticing the delicious layer of hair he has all over.

“Can’t sleep,” you take a step over the threshold, holding onto the door shyly.

Logan smiles, more to himself, “Was wondering when I’d see you again, bub.”

“Was waiting for you to come visit me,” you pout. You jut out your hip to one side, your tail curling upwards and peeking out behind your legs. You’re showing off. Last time he saw your tail, it was all tattered, but now it’s soft and bouncy again. You see Logan looking at it, smiling slightly, but he doesn’t compliment it like you hoped.

“We barely know each other. It’s nothing personal, kid. It was a standard mission. Anyone from our team could have got you first.” It stings that he doesn’t find your bond as special as you do, but you don’t mind if you have to do some convincing. He’s worth it.

“But we do know each other,” you close the door and make your way to his bed, “You saved me. I wouldn’t be alive without you. I just want to show you my appreciation.” You’re at the foot of his bed, crawling onto it on all fours. You’d never normally be this blunt but you can’t help yourself around him. Your need for him has taken over your entire being in the last two weeks. 

You watch him taking you in. Your movements are sensual and sleek – feline. You know he’s never been with someone like you, and you’re happy for him to take his time if he needs it. Perching on his bed, between his spread legs, you slowly unzip the hoodie of his that you’re still wearing.

His eyes follow the languid movement as you drag the zipper down, revealing your simple black top underneath. It clings to your skin in all the right places in the same way that your soft, tight, black shorts do.

“Looks good on you,” he nods towards the hoodie.

“Do you want me to keep it on?” You ask, but he shakes his head, smiling. 

“It’ll look better off.”

You unzip it fully, throwing it to the side of the bed. 

“Can I stay with you?” you lean over him. He’s about to open his mouth, and you have a feeling he’s going to tell you no.

“Please,” you cut him off.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he huffs, moving to give your ears a light scratch, “you can stay for a bit”. He’s intrigued enough to let you stay – you can hear it in his elevated heartbeat – and you don’t mind if curiosity is the only reason he’s keeping you with him for now. 

He paws at your fluffy ears, almost groping you, unsure how to treat you, but you haven’t been touched there in so long that it feels like heaven anyway.

“Who’s a good kitty?” he mocks as he gets the sweet spot behind your ear, but you don’t realise he’s teasing you, pushing your head further against his hand in bliss as you begin to purr. 

Logan isn’t sure how you’re making the noise, but it turns him on. He wants to hear more of it, “Well, don’t you sound pretty?” 

Your purring intensifies. You move down his body and settle over his legs, your head in his lap as his hand stays on your head. It’s then that Logan realises he’s already half-hard. The only reason he let you in was because he’s sexually intrigued by you, your cute demeanour and that fluffy tail somehow doing it for him. But he wasn’t planning on actually doing anything — not until now.

Your face is mere inches from his cock and he’s starting to ache to do something about it, getting harder. You’re still trying to find the most comfortable position as you rub your cheek across his lap like a little cat. You stop when you feel his erection.

“Are you hard?” you ask bluntly, eyes all wide. 

“I am, bub.”

“For me?” you purr quietly.

“All for you.” Logan tips his head to the side, waiting to see your reaction. He can tell that whatever you’re asking him next is taking you a bit more courage. He watches you gnaw on your lip all cutely.

“I’ve never seen a cock before…” you confess, and Logan stifles a laugh.

“Y’wanna?” He surprises himself when he says it. At first, he thought your affection was simply that of the saved towards her saviour, or familial maybe, but he’s not mad at this. 

Logan gets fully hard as you nod at him in such awe, your tail curling around his bare leg, and it’s even softer than it looks.

He pushes his boxers down just enough to pull out his cock, jerking himself off for just a few seconds to get some friction. You’re staring at it as you move your legs back, instinctively arching your back with your ass up. 

Your tail bobs behind you Logan can’t resist giving it a light tug, curling his finger around it. “Mmh,” you huff, pulling your tail away by instinct.

“Sorry, kitty,” he chuckles, “just wanted to feel it.” Your cheeks warm at his confession and you move your tail back in the direction of his hand so he can reach for it when he wants to. Your tail is your pride and you won’t let just anyone touch it – Logan’s the exception. He can gladly dominate you by tugging at your tail all day if he wants. 

He smiles as he touches your tail again, letting it glide through his fist from the bottom to the tip of your fur. “Such a pretty kitty,” he hums as he bites his lip. 

Hearing that he likes it pleases you more than you would’ve thought and you begin to purr again. You’re not exactly sure how to go down on a man, but you let your intuition guide you as you lower your face to press a wet kiss to the tip of Logan’s cock.

Suddenly, he’s pulling you back up by the scruff of your neck.

“Ah-ah. Manners, bub. You gotta ask first, you don’t know that?” Logan scolds.

His expression goes soft as you shake your head all sadly and apologetically, “‘S okay, kitty. I’ll teach you. Say please.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

You look at him as you get back up on all fours, leaning close to his face. You want to kiss him so bad but you gather you’re not allowed to do that without asking either. 

“Please can I kiss you, daddy?” you ask.

Logan is surprised, not unpleasantly, at the word, “Where’d you get that from?” 

You shrug, and even that movement is fluid and smooth. “Just wanted to call you that. ‘S that okay?” You slur, head already clouded with pleasure and Logan.

He nods and places his hand back on your neck, pulling you towards him as your face reaches his in a searing kiss. He’s hungry for you, devouring you with his mouth and tongue and teeth immediately. His hand glides down your spine and to the side of your ass, grabbing you there. 

You purr against his lips as his other hand squeezes the flesh at your waist, and the vibration feels so good to him. You lower yourself against him so you’re chest to chest, and your belly rubs against his cock as some of his precum spills between you two, rubbing up against your skin and dripping onto his own abs.

Logan gently pulls you off, “Be a good girl and suck daddy’s dick now, alright?” You nod so adorably it makes his heart clench – you’re so eager to please him, all wide-eyed as you get between his legs, your ass up in the air.

On your way down, you give tiny licks to his skin; your tongue is all over his chest hair and his happy trail. Your tongue glides through his pubic hair, ignoring his throbbing cock, and you make your way to his thighs. He watches you lick through the dark hair there, and he realises what you’re doing. 

You’re acting like a cat, taking care of him. You’re bonding with him, and grooming him. He lets you do it some more, but it becomes increasingly difficult to ignore how hard he is, leaking precum. He slides a hand down to his dick, jerking off right next to your face.

“Mhh,” you pout, pushing his hand away with your head and giving him a cross look.

He smirks, “you gonna start sucking at some point then, baby?” It’s not that he doesn’t like you playing around but he’s getting desperate. He places a hand on your face to make you look at him.

“I don’t know how to.” Your cheeks are hot under his touch. 

Logan smiles, “Start with kisses. Or lick, like you’ve been doing.”

You nod and curl your tail around his knee, your hands to the sides of his hips. You press a wet kiss to the underside of his cock and Logan sighs in pleasure; you immediately want to hear more of it. You press quick kisses all over him, remembering what he said about using your tongue.

You begin to lick all over his dick, his balls too, until you’re drooling over him. But he’s stopped making pretty sounds and you’re not sure what you’re doing wrong. You hear a quiet chuckle from above you.

“Come up here,” Logan says. You sit up and straddle his waist. He takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth.

“Like this,” he tells you, taking one of your fingers between his lips. He wets it with his spit, sucking it into his mouth, tongue moving over your fingertip. You grin – you like the look of it. You like the way his cheeks hollow as he sucks on your finger, wishing your hands were as big as his.

As you move to push another finger past his lips, Logan takes your wrist. “Uh-uh. Your turn, kitty.” 

You pout but then feel his hard cock against your ass, your tail brushing it, and you get excited. 

“And none of those sharp teeth,” Logan tells you as you move down his body again. You bare your smile to him, letting your fangs retract. They’re a special part of you and you’re glad you could finally show them off to someone who deserves to see. Logan awards your little show with a grin. 

“Good girl.” Those words make you put your mouth on him immediately, swallowing him down your throat as deeply as you can. You pull away when you almost gag, heat spreading over your face, but Logan is unbothered.

You settle between his legs as you press a few more open-mouthed kisses to his cock with spit-slicked lips. You take the tip in your mouth, staying for a bit as you suck on it, spit dripping down his length and over your lips.

You start purring when you take him a little deeper, and Logan’s breath catches in his throat when you do, the vibration turning him on even more.

“Keep doing that,” he mumbles absent-mindedly, eyes on you but mind evidently gone. You smile around his cock, moving your mouth up and down as the spit begins to make a crude sound against your lips, but you like it. You’re feeling more and more of an urge to touch yourself between your legs, but you want to make Logan feel good first.

Your purring gets louder as you take him even deeper, and Logan lets out a sharp gasp. You pull your mouth off him, wondering if you’ve hurt him, sliding your tongue over your teeth to make sure the sharp fangs aren’t out.

Following Logan’s eyes, you see what you’ve done. Your claws have come out, and you’ve been scratching his thighs open. You feel tears prick your eyes as you bend down to lick over the wounds apologetically, wondering in awe as they heal up immediately.

“Don’t worry, just surprised me. You won’t hurt me.”

“Sorry, ‘s just how I show that I like you. Don’t wanna let you go”, you hang your head low in shame despite his words.

“It’s okay, kitty,” he lightly scratches at your ear, making you purr and forget all about hurting him, “Do your worst.”

You’re not sure if he’s teasing you. “Know they’re not as big as yours.”

Logan huffs, taking a hand away from you, pressing his elbow into the bed and his claws come shooting out. You only saw one of them briefly, when he saved you. They’re majestic up close and in all their glory, glinting against the low light. 

You reach out, “Pretty.” Logan smiles at your sparkling eyes, but retracts his claws before you can touch them.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, baby.”

You give him the meanest look you can muster for not letting you touch, sinking your own, much tinier, claws into his abs to hurt him. But Logan lets out a soft moan instead, and you marvel at the pleasure he takes in the pain, forgetting all about why you’re mad at him.

Your eyes light up when you realise he likes you scratching him open. It’s a dream come true – someone who likes the way you show affection. You bite your lip as you scratch over his abs, his hips, and his thighs, watching as the wounds close up just before you draw blood. You hook your tiny claws into the flesh of his thighs as you wrap your lips around his cock again.

Logan lets out a string of moans as you have your claws in him and your mouth on him. You begin to purr, and with the way his cock flexes in your mouth you know he’s close.

“Just a little more for me, can you do that, baby?” he gently nudges your head down some more, and with the praise coming from his lips you can definitely take him – you feel like you could do anything.

“Yeah, just like that.” Logan’s voice gets shaky as you take his cock deeper, spit running down to his balls as you take almost all of him in your warm, wet mouth. 

You swallow everything Logan gives you as he cums in your mouth, shooting strings of his warm load down your throat. You don’t stop until he’s gently pulling you off him, and you look up at him.

“Again,” you plead, eyes wide, taking in how his cock is still hard.

Logan chuckles, “Don’t get used to the idea of that. Most men can’t go more than once.” 

You look at him strangely – what do other men matter to you? Before you can ask, Logan manhandles you into a different position, and you don’t notice until then that you’ve been grinding your clothed pussy against his knee, and you whine at the loss of contact.

You’re on your knees as Logan gets up to fully remove his boxers, and you see the skin at his knee glistening from where you’ve soaked it. The sight makes your cheeks heat up but also makes you press your thighs together.

He’s standing in front of you like a god, and you put a hand on his thigh to suck his cock again. Before your mouth can reach him, he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Your turn now, kitty.”

“Oh,” you say as he lies you on your back.

“Gonna play with you now. Can I take this off?” he’s holding the bottom of your top, and you nod as he pulls it off you. Logan gets on the bed again, taking in the sight of you half-naked. You’ve never felt so good about yourself. He looks as if he’s seen God herself.

“Look at you, kitty, so fucking pretty,” he whispers more to himself, touching and kissing you there as his knees sink into the mattress. You arch your back when he wraps his lips around your nipple, and the action makes your pussy rub up against him. He looks down between your thighs, pushing his mouth there.

You’re not wearing any underwear, so his face against your thin shorts makes you squirm. “Smell so good,” he breathes, rubbing his nose up against your clit. It makes you moan.

He begins to pull down your pants, stopping as they catch on your tail. The nurses cut a hole into the back of the material for it, and your cheeks glow when Logan carefully pulls your sensitive tail out of the way before he slides your shorts all the way down your legs, spreading them to get a look of you afterwards.

“Look at you, kitty. Prettiest kitty I’ve ever seen,” you miss his joke, placing your feet on Logan’s broad shoulders, as he says “Can I?”

You’re appalled that he even has to ask, pushing his head down between your legs. 

He begins to eat you like a man starved, moaning against your skin at the taste of your wet pussy. He doesn’t even tease you, licking through all your wetness, licking over your clit in circles.

Logan pushes two fingers in without any preparation, but you still feel too empty, grinding your hips against him. 

“I got you,” he promises, lapping up all of you, “Best thing I’ve ever tasted.” He grabs one of your thighs, holding it so that you don’t squeeze his ears any more. Your knees are still pressing against his temples, but he doesn’t mind them there. He can feel you tremble when he licks and sucks and when he curls his fingers.

Logan has you cumming on his tongue quickly, sucking on your clit until you’re seeing stars, whining for him to stop. He pulls his lips off you, sitting up to push his fingers into your mouth.

“You taste good, huh?” he smirks as you suck your own arousal off him, humming around his fingers in agreement. He slowly fucks his fingers into you again, bringing them up to his own lips. He moves his hand between your legs again, fingers going over the hair above your pussy.

“You’re so soft here, kitty,” he says, leaning down to nuzzle his cheek against your pubic hair, making you giggle.

You’re still wet, and he’s still hard, and you don’t want to be too direct but you want to know when he’s finally going to fuck you. You tell him “I’ve never done this before either,” hoping he’ll catch what you’re getting at.

He places a kiss above your pussy, into the soft hair, smirking up at you and kneeling between your spread thighs, “I know. I’ll go slow.”

“Don’t want you to go slow,” you mumble, watching his eyes darken a bit.

“Don’t say that to me. Y’don’t know what you’re saying.” 

You don’t reply, smiling to yourself. He is big – very big – you remind yourself, but you still want him to be rough with you if that’s what he needs. You want him to use you. But maybe you should wait before you tell him that.

Logan wraps a hand around his cock, fucking his fist for a few moments before he leans down to rub the tip against your clit. You mewl at the sensation, ready for more.

“You sure?” he asks, head already beginning to push in.

“Yeah,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him close. Logan pushes himself halfway in, both of you moaning with pleasure. The stretch already stings, but you tell him you want more.

“So fucking tight for me, baby,” he grunts as he fucks into you deeper, bottoming out with an almost pathetic groan that makes you smile through the slight pain.

“You’re so big,” you moan, leaning your head back against his pillow.

“I know. Think you can take me?” he kisses up the side of your neck, hand sneaking between your bodies to play with your clit.

“Yes–yeah. I want you.”

“That’s a good kitty,” he whispers from above you, beginning to thrust into you slowly, rocking your whole body with his movement. He feels so big in your pussy, but you like the feeling of being stretched out for him. Even if it hurts, you want him to take what he needs.

It helps when your claws come out, scratching at his back to relieve some of the pain.

“Hurt me, baby. Hurt me as much as you need,” he moans into your ear, fucking into you at a bit of a rougher pace. You sink your claws into him, feeling how you draw tiny drops of blood from his big muscles, dragging your fingertips down his shoulders and over his big arms.

“That’s it, baby,” Logan moans against your mouth, kissing you sloppily, thrusts becoming messy, and you grunt in a mix of pain and pleasure that feels so good. He looks down at you, hips getting slower as he takes your tail in his hand.

“Does your tail hurt like this?” he asks, tugging at it lightly. You’re lying on your tail, technically, but it doesn’t hurt. You shake your head. Still, Logan tips your hips to the side a bit, lifting your thigh to fuck you sideways. But this way you can’t reach his back, and you don’t like not being able to squeeze around him with your thighs.

“Wanna sit on top,” you say, and he pulls away to look at you, unable to stop himself from smiling.

“You can’t take me like that yet, bub. Trust me.”

“M-mh,” you mumble, and with a bite to his lip Logan lifts his hands in defeat, slipping out of you and obeying you. He flips you around so that he’s on his back and you straddle him.

His dick looks bigger when you hold it in your hand, raising yourself to your knees to line him up with your pussy. Logan chuckles and you smile too, but you want to show him that you can take him.

You struggle to even get the angle right because you have to sit up so high, but when you’ve got the tip in your pussy, you just slowly lower yourself, hands leaning on Logan’s chest.

“Go slow, baby,” Logan says, suddenly gentle, seeing the pain on your features as he goes deeper. His fingers draw circles on your hips and on your ass, and he almost cums from the way you moan when he won’t fit in all the way in this position. He reaches out to rub at your fluffy ears, loving the way you lean into his touch, purring again.

“Sounds so pretty when you do that.” He’s less and less sure about the thing he said earlier, telling you not to get used to him, about you fucking other men. He’s not sure it’ll be relevant after all. He’s going to keep you all to himself.

“Hurts so bad,” you moan, pussy straining around him.

“Then stop. Y’don’t have to,” Logan coos, pulling you up by your hips but you take his hands off you.

“Don’t wanna stop. Wanna cum.” You grind your hips against Logan’s, his cock pulsing inside you. It drives him fucking crazy seeing you struggling to take him, fucking yourself stupid in his lap nevertheless.

He rubs his thumb over your clit, in circles to match the movement of your hips on him.

“Lo–Logan,” you moan, hands back on his chest as you start to fuck him again, your claws coming out against his chest to scratch him there, and he revels in it.

“Yeah, that’s it, kitty. Don’t stop,” he keeps playing with your clit, starting to become breathless himself as your pussy squeezes around his cock.

You cum with a whimper so animalistic it sets off his own orgasm, pulsing his cum into your pussy that clenches around him hard. Logan’s hand on your hip helps you grind on him as the pleasure spreads through your body and he’s grabbing at your flesh.

You come down from your highs together, a fucked out smile on your lips as you bend down to kiss Logan. He pulls you off his cock, not wanting you to hurt any more, but from the way you kiss him back lazily, hurt is the last thing you are.

“Did such a good job for me,” Logan tells you, holding onto your face, “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You shake your head, “Didn’t mind it,” and you kiss him again, liking the way he devours you like a hungry animal every time his lips are on you.

As he’s kissing you fervently, with tongue and spit, you let your fangs come out, nicking his bottom lip carefully. He hisses into your mouth, and you draw two drops of blood – one for each tooth – before the wounds heal shut.

Logan grins, “Feisty kitty,” he squeezes you at the waist, making you giggle.

“See, you like pain and I like it too.”

Logan hums at your words, hand moving up to play with one of your ears. You move to lie down on your side, Logan turning to face you. You watch him.

“Can I stay?” you ask shyly, quietly, and he doesn’t understand the man he was only an hour ago. How could he not want you entirely? He hates that he made you feel unsure for even a second.

“Of course, bub. You’re staying with me from now on.” You purr at his words, cuddling into him. 

He puts his arm around you, holding you close as you begin to lick all over his face. He giggles as you make your way over his beard and his neck too, grooming him like a kitty. Your claws hook into the muscle of his arm and, as much as he enjoyed it during sex, this is definitely something he still has to get used to, gasping at the contact. The way you purr louder makes it more than worth it.

You’re pawing at his hair, smoothing it back into place from where you’ve messed it up. Logan closes his eyes from how good it feels. Suddenly, he hears you giggle.

“Your hair is kind of like kitty ears,” you grin.

He deadpans. “Don’t ever say that again.”

Your fluffy tail bounces up and sways a bit as you giggle mischievously. You pretend to zip your mouth shut but he knows he’s never hearing the end of that. Maybe he doesn’t even mind it coming from you.

“So, did you escape just to come see me or d’you get permission?” He asks, remembering how you’re probably not even supposed to be here. 

You panic for a second, beginning to sit up, but Logan holds you down, “I won’t tell anyone you’re here, kitty. Told you you’re staying with me. Would just be good to know if you’re making me break the rules.”

The way you smile at him sheepishly tells him everything he needs to know. He presses another kiss to your adorable face.

“You coulda told them you’re leaving. I’m sure they’ll be looking for you, bub,” he tells you. You turn around so that you’re spooning, with him at your back and your tail wrapped around his thigh.

“Hmpfh, don’t care,” you begin to purr, closing your eyes, “Just wanna be with my daddy.”

Logan wants the same. 

You don’t stop purring as you drift off to sleep, held safely in Logan’s arms.

-

P.S. Logan thinks that hot readers leave a reblog and a comment and let the writer know what they enjoyed about the fic <333 🫣🤭

[livfastdieyoung69]

mr john price and belgian malinois hybrid!reader who cannot be pried out of any body of water

(og post)

First, it’s the willingness to jump straight into a muddy river, tail wagging, on her first mission with them. Sure, they’re all a bit confused but Price is the only one to have known her longer than a week, so they just assume she’s always like that. Overachieving and overexciting - like a puppy.

Then, Gaz is the one to notice her habit of long showers a few weeks into having her on base, so she’s still only really comfortable with John, who Laswell introduced before the rest of the team. Like, insanely long - reaching for an hour, possibly longer -showers.

Everyone else will be eating already, and halfway through their lunch she’ll saunter over with damp hair and a fresh set of clothes.

“Liking the showers quite a bit, aren’t you?” Kyle asks with a silly little smirk in between a couple bites. She nods, thinking nothing of it.

“Laswell said I could go in the water whenever I want. N’ that I can come over n’ swim at her pool whenever but that I can’t live with her cause her n’ her wife’s dog don’t like anyone else.”

This lead to the realization that she didn’t have a home outside of the base, and way just…living at the base all the time. She loves Laswell but she couldn’t bring her home, and she gets along with the others great, loves playing around with them, but the ‘only listening to John’ thing became very apparent early on. Price decides, what the hell, how is he supposed to say no to that face, and he’s been a bit lonely anyways, and brings her on home.

She does the shower thing at home too. (Immediately calls John’s house home after the first time she slips into his bed in the middle of the night.) Loves the bath as well. Just…sits in there for so long.

John decides, after a few months, that she deserves more than a damn bathtub. After their last recon for a while, the pair go home to a new, huge, in-ground swimming pool in the back yard.

She’s so incredibly happy, jumping on him with big smooches to the cheek, and then immediately trying to pull her clothes off and jump in. (She doesn’t have a bathing suit, not that she knows of. John has one for her hidden away in the back of the closet.) He manages to wrangle her inside to put it on, and then she is immediately taking a dash to the pool. Price joins her for a bit, walking around in the shallow end while making quiet conversation with her completely wrapped around his front. He gets out to make dinner, and she stays in. Even eats dinner outside, hair sopping wet and wrapped in a towel, taking a break from the diving sticks John was throwing into the deep end for her.

She comes back inside a couple hours later, after it’s gotten pitch black, standing on the hardwood after running inside. John turns in his recliner, eyebrows raising, and she pants out that, “Bugs were tryin’ to eat me, John!”

He helps her dry off with a cheeky remark of, “Can tell you’re a sweet girl, pup,” that’s got her giggling under the new, warm towel (he put it in the dryer, the sweet man he is) his big palms are wrapping around her.

He guides her to the bathroom attached to his room to wash all of that chlorine off with a nice, warm shower. Throws some pjs they (he) just bought on the cabinet, and brushes his teeth while she’s in the shower.

“John?” She calls, and he can tell she’s criss-cross on the shower floor again. She likes how the water feels on her back. He hums back. “Can the guys come swimmin’ in the pool soon?”

His smile couldn’t be any fonder while he responds back, “Maybe. We’ll have to ask now, won’t we?”

With how fast she falls asleep, and stays asleep, John decides that, yes, they will be coming over to swim.

[crashingcryptid]

Wolf pack hybrids 141 with a bunny medic/emotional supporter. (Random blurb, maybe I'll write something longer for it)

Cuddles to regulate them after Ops. Medication that only you can convince them to take and make sure they are eating enough food. With something softer around, it lets them heal faster and take better care of themselves.

After one deployment, Price goes to seek out the little bunny for a long cuddle, but he recoils when he hugs the bunny.

"What are you wearing!?" He snarls, nose scrunched as he drops his ears a little. He sees your nose twitching anxiously, feeling bad for startling you, but leaning in to smell you again.

"What am I wearing? I got a new body oil." You manage quietly, squeaking when Soaps nose finds your neck, breathing in deep.

He snarls, nipping your neck and making you whine as the rest of the pack descends on you with wild sniffing and snarls.

You're not allowed to just change your signature scent on the pack like that, and since you don't smell right, they spend 45 minutes nuzzling, petting, scenting, and nipping you, until you smell like them again.

John bulk orders you the correct body oil after that.

[sweetpianoxoxo]

The betta mermaid who meets hybrid!141

Brown Bear John Price, American Alligator Simon Riley, North American Beaver Johnny Mactavish, Green turtle Kyle Garrick

The captain of the ship, brought his boys fishing for some pack bonding. They all like water so it wasnt suppose to be a big deal

He hibernates for a vast majority of the year. He misses a lot of time with his mates, and he hates that. Although the boys stay on property for the sake of Price's instincts during hibernation, it's still hard. Therefore he takes them on this trip. Its out in his cabin nd theres a large lake that connevts to his property. It was private, hidden away from prying eyes, and personal.

Maybe after very little luck foshing the regular way, he decides to go to his instincts. Fish the bear way. When he sees a squirm in the water he slams his jand down to grab it and bring it up.

"Heavy one," he exclaimed as it tried to wriggle out of his grip. The boys were laughing a bit until Price finally got the fish up.

A mermaid.

Perhaps thats a derogatory term, but thays all hes ever heard them be referred by. Technically, fish-hybrids, but with the unique ability to exchange tails for legs, they were most akin to mermaids.

The mermaid was screeching profanitys and wriggling around and Price dropped her in shock. All the men were in shock. She wormed her way off the boat edge and back into the water, but not before price noticed a huge cut in her arm. He did that.

The men looked at eachother for a second. "Is there a sign saying any fish folk live here?" Gaz asked, ever the clearheaded one.

"If there's a sign your ass is getting sued" Soap would add. Price was still a bit shocked. He had felt something when he touched her, something like how he felt touching his mates.

[lay-z]

cotton candy clouds | 1

Synopsis: Due to his rank, status, and many combat achievements, Lieutenant Riley is assigned an emotional support hybrid by the brass; whether he likes it or not.

Pairing: handler!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x dog!hybrid!fem!Reader

Warnings/Info: 18+ MDNI | Reader is a purebred Samoyed (dog)hybrid. Despite ears, tails, and their adapted nature/instincts/personalities, hybrids have human features. | bimbo!Reader; hypersexuality; dom/sub elements; heavy smut; tw: past (sexual) abuse/manipulation; cussing; fluff; angst; hurt/comfort; eventual romance; strangers to lovers; dub-con elements (Some warnings only apply to future parts!)

☁ ccc; masterlist

Simon remembers telling Price to ‘piss off with that shite’ when the latter had approached him with the brass’ announcement of granting the Lieutenant the rare permission to become the handler of an emotional support hybrid.

There aren’t many officers on base who are allowed to have one, and Simon knows why that is. In his opinion, the whole handler/hybrid deal has all the negative connotations of a toxic and borderline abusive relationship, and Simon simply doesn’t want to be part of that.

Did anyone of those fuckers ever bother to read his file? He bloody well doubts it.

He does respect the official handlers and trainers of the military K9’s on base, though. Whatever bond they share was forged and solidified in battle and goes way beyond that odd and shallow power play that happens between some officers and their so-called “pets”.

So, Simon said no to the offer, firmly and several times at that. He doesn’t care for the bloody permission, no matter how rare it is, no matter how fellow soldiers who’d caught rumour about it had blatantly stated their envy about the possibility of gaining a hybrid pet themselves. Truthfully, Simon becomes sick to his stomach whenever one of the other officers and NCO’s talk about wanting to own a pretty pleasure puppy; something dumb and docile to have fun and unwind with in their time off duty.

Fucking hell. No, Simon doesn’t want to be part of that, let alone be responsible of some freakish hybrid mutt.

Weeks pass, both thoughts and arguments about hybrids and handlers are pushed back and filed away in some nook inside Simon’s mind as he falls back into his daily grind and familiar routine; running drills, paperwork, field trainings, preparing for missions, more paperwork.

Until one fateful day in January.

The UK weather has been more terrible lately; icy rain and howling winds beating down on base while Simon was trying to keep the rookies in line at the shooting range. By the end of the day, his fatigues were drenched and clinging to his broad frame while the chill was seeping through his pale skin, settling into his bones; making his limbs heavy and turning them stiff as if he’d carried a rucksack full of boulders on his back for a week straight.

The moment Simon arrives at the front door to his flat on base, though, the hairs at the back of his neck bristle immediately. The hallway is empty, but–

Something isn’t right. He can practically sense that someone was here, perhaps even inside his place in the worst case.

Halting in his measured steps while his breathing levels out to that eerie shallowness he’s adapted to on missions, his ears perk up under his skull balaclava as he listens for any odd noises coming from inside. Unable to pick up anything unusual, Simon still chooses to rather be safe than sorry as he reaches for his pistol in the holster strapped to his right thigh.

Simon manages to open the front door without any noise before he slips inside effortlessly, living up to his name as a ghost as he stalks through his flat on high alert; checking the small storage room before sneaking down the short, dark hallway leading up to his open living room. He can bloody sense that something is different, that someone has tampered with his safe space; he can smell the lingering scent of cigarette smoke, sweat, and tangy cologne even through his damp balaclava.

The sight that greets him on his old, tattered couch when he eventually flips on the light switch, is unlike anything he expected and Simon’s whole body tenses, eyes widening comically as if he’s met face to face by a firing squad.

But it’s just you, a bloody dog hybrid, curled up on his couch like you belong there–which you don’t.

And Simon slowly lowers his pistol, watches your fluffy white ears appear from under your hair as they perk up before you lift your head, like pristine cotton balls popping open in the sunlight; your body uncurling and stretching slowly while you squint against the bright yellow drop-light.

“What the bloody… fuck,” Simon breathes, chest deflating with a deep sigh as he puts his pistol back into his holster, securing it once more. Dark eyes flicker around the room before he catches a large black suitcase next to what looks like a gift basket.

Simon approaches the basket the way he would a bomb threat while his vigilant eyes keep shifting towards you as if you could attack him any moment, although you’re clearly still waking up, all discombobulated and sleep-drunk.

When Simon catches a clear view at the assortment of goodies and the black folder tucked between them inside the basket, his cold heart stutters and his blood freezes in his veins. At the sight of the pale pink collar with its matching leash, the vein in his temple throbs with a mixture of fury and revulsion.

The sound of your soft, sickly-sweet voice chirping out a greeting nearly makes his wretched soul leave his body. “Hi… Hello.”

Simon takes a step back, needing a protective wall at his back and as much space between himself and you as possible as he tries to assess the situation.

“How the fuck did you get inside my flat?” Simon mutters under his breath, dark eyes widening when he realizes the thumping in his ears doesn’t match his rapid heartbeat but belongs to your fluffy white tail gently wagging against the soft leather of his couch; just as fluffy and white as your ears, like freshly made cotton candy.

“I was brought here and told to wait for my new handler,” you answer as your head tilts to the side curiously, gazing up at the large man with bright doe-eyes. “Are you Simon?”

Simon’s narrowed eyes widen instantly again at the sound of your voice uttering his name so sweetly, so... casually. It makes him sick to his stomach, and he swallows back the sour taste in his mouth as it fills with saliva.

“Who the fuck brought you ‘ere?”

He needs a name, so he knows who to beat to a pulp before he grabs the first poor bastard who crosses his path next.

“Uhm–oh!” Your small, triangle-shaped ears perk up, and the giggle you let out makes Simon grimace underneath his mask. “They had silly names for humans,” you tell him, still giggling softly to yourself before adding: “Gaz and Soap.”

Simon huffs in exasperation and pinches the bridge of his nose. Of course, it explains the “special orders” his bloody Sergeants had gotten from Price today; the reason he couldn’t attend today’s training session. And suddenly, it all clicks into place.

“You’re all wet, Simon,” you remark about his appearance; sweet voice laced with a concern so genuine that is has his spine tense and his stomach churn with aversion. “Are you not cold?”

He wants to bark at you to stop calling him by his name, to stop trying to appeal to him just because your bloody stupid nature tells you to, to stop imprinting on your so called “new handler” just because someone told you that you belong to him now. He wants you out of his flat and out of his life before anything terrible and out of his control can take root and blossom behind his ribcage.

“Get up,” he snaps at you before his thoughts can spiral any further and he almost, almost feels bad when you flinch in your seat, ducking your head submissively while your ears flatten against your head. “I’m taking you back. You’re not staying here, lass.”

“W-What?” Your face drops, your fluffy tail stops wagging; eyes glossing over as you begin to tremble and shrink on the spot. The sound of your soft whine only angers Simon more, because it tugs on his heartstring, makes his protective instincts flare.

“You heard me. Get up and grab your fuckin’ suitcase. ’m taking you back to wherever you came from.”

When Simon glances back at you, something mean and violent lodges itself into his chest cavity; twisting and squeezing his rotten heart as soon as he sees the devastated look on your face; ears drooping and shoulders slouching in defeat while another soft whine vibrates in your chest.

“Okay,” you answer eventually, snivelling when fat tear breaches your lower lash line and runs down your supple cheek as you untuck your legs from under yourself to move off the couch. “Okay…”

There’s a shrill ringing in his ears when Simon’s mouth seems to move on its own, making a decision for him. “Wait. Stay–Stay right where you bloody are.”

And you immediately do as you’re told, like the obedient pup you obviously are, settling back and perking up again as you blink dumbly at the brutish man with bright, big eyes and an expectant look that makes Simon groan internally before he reaches into one of his many pockets to retrieve his old smartphone.

He mutters and curses under his breath as the cracked screen lights up, and it doesn’t take long for him to find his Captain’s name in his short contact list. Simon taps the screen with his gloved thumb to call the man, ready to argue tooth and nail to have you picked up by from his flat again, so he doesn’t have to deal with it.

Simon’s jaw is clenched tightly while his sharp gaze keeps flickering back to you, still not quite believing you’re not some stress-induced hallucination, or nightmare.

It takes two rings before Price picks up.

“Ghost–“

Simon inhales deeply. “Price–“

“Getting acquainted with your new companion, son? She’s quite the sweetheart. Easy on the eyes, too, judging by what the lads told me.”

His chest deflates, air rushing from his lungs in a long exhale. That comment alone is enough to make him even more furious. “I don’t want her. Take her back to wherever she came from, Captain.”

There’s a beat of tense silence before Price speaks up again, and Simon can hear the squeak of the old office chair as the other man leans back in it.

“Did you read her file yet?”

“No, should I?” Simon counters gruffly, feeling his patience grow thinner by the second.

“Aye, son, I suggest you should.”

“Gimme the short version, Price. I’m this close to handing her over to the next lucky bloke who passes by my fuckin’ flat.”

“Yeah, don’t do that,” Price says decisively on the other; his gruff voice way too calm for Simon’s liking. “She’s a rescue, Lieutenant. Got rescued from one of those terrible puppy mills.”

That makes Simon shut up as his eyes flicker over to you; softening somewhat when his eyes lock with yours. You keep watching him with the slightest pout, waiting for orders or for him to finally send you away. He’s still considering it, though the revelation of your background makes him hesitate for some odd reason. Empathy.

“Simon?”

Simon squeezes the phone harder in his grip; hard enough he thinks he might break it once and for all. “You better find a new handler for her, Captain.” He bites out through clenched teeth. “It’s not gonna be me.”

Price sighs. “Alright.” There is another pause and Simon can hear it when Price scratches his coarse beard in contemplation before he speaks up again. “Just keep an eye on her for the night, aye? I’ll make the necessary arrangement to have her transferred to someone else.”

“Good. She can stay for one night. One. Night.” Simon growls before hanging up.

The soft sound of your tail thumping against the couch catches his attention again and when he looks back at you, you’re practically beaming at him.

“Fuckin’ hell…”

[uglygirltrying]

wolf-hybrid!simon x bunny-hybrid!reader | PT1 | pt2 | pt3 |

the winter is here. your fur has gone from brown, to white, camouflaging you from predators. but that isn't enough to keep you alive. it's so cold, and there's hardly any food. the best you have, is your burrow.

but you're not there right now. it's dangerous to be out, but you have to leave your territory to find more food. the snow underneath your feet is cold, making you keep your pace up. a light, calm, fall of snow comes down from the sky. it's so quiet, and calm. suspiciously so. like something's trying not to make noise...

a flock takes of flying from a bush, in surprise. it spooks you too. but you know better than to be just spooked. so, you take off running, snow flying from underneath your steps. and then you hear it. heavy, fast, and determined steps behind you, running after you. you're being hunted.

running faster is useless, even though you're made for this. it already has you. you're already it's.

with a growl from behind you, you get tackled into the snow. big, hairy arms wrap around your frame, the predators big body pressing you down on the ground.

"little bunny. stop struggling." he growled, tightening his grip around you, when you squirm under him.

your ears filled with the pants coming out from both of you. panic and fear filled your body. you slowly gave up with your desperate protests, going limp in exhaustion, and acceptance.

"you're a smart one, huh?" he darkly chuckled into your ear. the omnivore buried his nose against your head, breathing in the smell, loudly.

simon signed. you smelled so sweet. it would really be a waste to just feast on you. his hips pressed down on yours, almost suffocating you with his weight.

"might have to take you with me, bun... now, tell me, do you have kits waiting for ya?" simon grumbled, almost talking to himself, his tone condescending.

with a frantic shake off your head, simon stood up. he quickly reached down, before the bun had a chance to take off, and picked her up. the predator threw you over his shoulder, almost whiplashing you with the strength he threw you with.

simon walked a mile or two, with you on his shoulder, until you two came upon a hole in a hill, his den. simon took you off of his shoulder and pushed you down to the entrance.

"get in." he murmured, his cold eyes watching your every move. reluctantly, and hesitantly, you crawled your way into the den. simon followed suit, making sure you won't play any tricks.

the den is filled with hay and simon's summer coat. it looked warm. an arm sneaks around your waist, and you get pulled against the wolf's form.

"i'll show ya... i can keep you warm." simon murmured against your cheek, his hairy arms wrapped around your tiny frame.

"don't know if i can wait until spring to get inside ya..." his words made you curl into yourself, shyly. instead of eating you, he took up the responsibility of taking care of you. he had just taken you, just chased you and picked you up over his shoulder. claimed you for himself. and now, you're his.

his little prey.

i just desperately tried to post something, sorry that the ending is so meh