You’re a cat hybrid in heat, and your cat hybrid mate is letting you get away with pretty much everything.
You loom over him, kneading at his side and biting on his neck as you practically mount him. He yelps and stiffens up at first, but just relaxes and lets you dry hump him.
He’s just laying there, taking your rough treatment as he lightly grooms your head or stretches out for a nap. You’re trying to be intimidating and dominant…
So you yowl at him, his ears perking up at the sound. When he looks up at you, you quickly shove his face into the pillows and climb on top of him, holding onto his hips as you mount him again.
He’s perplexed, blinking against his pillow as you grind your hips into his ass. But he relents and pretends that you’ve bested and completely dominated him, letting out soft mews and whimpers, hoping it calms you down.
Female cat hybrids in heat sometimes hump their male partners… I think it’s very cute.
Hear me out: hybrid!reader who lets the whole 141 task force mount her as she desparately wants to have her first litter with each of the men siring one pup for it... WAIT WHO SAID THAT!? WHO SAID THAT!?
Again, I'm so sorry for the late response 🖤 Enjoy!
The house smells like pine, gun oil, and the thick, syrupy scent of your heat.
You’ve been pacing the living-room rug for three days, massive Maine Coon ears pinned back, calico tail lashing so hard it knocks over a lamp.
Two years you’ve been with them now—carried out of a collapsed lab in Simon’s arms, too drugged to walk.
They feed you, groom your fur until it gleams, let you sprawl across their laps during briefings and sleep on their chests at night. They call you princess, doll, pretty girl, their good little queen.
They never touched you like this. Not until your heat hit like a freight train and you couldn’t stop rubbing against their thighs, couldn’t hide the way your scent soaked every room, couldn’t stop the desperate yowls that slipped out when they got too close.
Now they’re all with you. Doors locked. Lights low. No rank. Just men and the kitty hybrid they’ve loved since the day they brought you home.
You’re on your knees in the center of the rug, back arched, tail high and trembling, calico fur fluffed out. You’ve already come twice today—once on Price’s thick fingers, once on Kyle’s clever tongue—and it’s still not enough.
Price kneels first. His hands are steady as he strokes down your spine, thumb pressing the base of your tail until you keen.
“Easy, love,” he murmurs, brows drawn in single-minded focus. “We’ve got you. All of us.”
And he’s the first to take you.
He eases your thighs apart, lines himself up, and slides in slow, stretching you wide. You yowl, nails sinking into the rug, tail wrapping tight around his hairy forearm like you’re afraid he’ll pull away. John fucks you deep and deliberate, hips rolling in a rhythm that makes your whole body rock forward with every thrust. When he finally comes, it’s with a low groan, spilling hot and thick inside you, holding you still while you shudder through your own release.
He kisses the back of your neck, voice rough with satisfaction. “First one’s mine, princess.”
Kyle goes next. He’s gentler, hands everywhere—scratching behind your ears, stroking under your chin, whispering filthy praise while he sinks into you.
You’re still dripping from Price, slick and open, and he groans at how easy you take him. He fucks you fast and playful, nipping your shoulder until you arch and beg. When he finishes, he laughs breathlessly against your ear, “Gonna give me a pretty little spotted kitten, yeah?”
You nod with a whimper, drooling onto the rug, too far gone to speak.
Johnny’s third. He’s eager, impatient, practically vibrating out of his skin.
He flips you onto your back so he can watch your face, so he can kiss you sloppy and deep while he thrusts. His cock is fat and slightly curved, relentless, and he drives into you until you’re clawing his shoulders bloody, tail thrashing against the floor. He comes with a shout, flooding you until it leaks down your thighs, and growls against your mouth, “Fuckin’ hell, lass. Feels like fuckin’ heaven.”
Simon is last; loves you cockdrunk and throughly prepped.
And he waits until the others retreat to the couch, watching with lazy, possessive eyes, stroking their half‐hard cocks to the sight of you.
He’s the biggest, the quietest. When he finally moves, it’s slow. He lifts you into his lap, arranges you facing the others so they can see how well you take him. His cock is long, heavy, and he sinks in inch by inch, letting you feel every ridge, every vein and piercing. You’re whimpering, overstimulated, but he just rumbles low in his chest, one massive hand splayed over your soft belly.
“Been waitin’ for this,” he murmurs gruffly. “Waitin’ to fill ya up proper.”
He fucks you like he’s claiming territory—deep, relentless, hips snapping until you’re crying, tail thrashing, ears swivelling and pinning back submissively.
When he comes, it’s with a low, broken groan, spilling deep inside you and adding to the seed already filling your sopping cunt, holding you against his massive chest with strong arms while you shudder through the aftershocks.
“Mine,” he murmurs into your ear, so soft the others almost don’t hear. “Ours.”
You’re a wreck when it’s over—fur matted with sweat and cum, thighs trembling, belly feeling all heavy and warm. They clean you gently, one at a time. Price with a warm cloth, Kyle with soft kisses, Johnny with teasing licks along your jaw, Simon just holding you while you continue to purr even in your sleep.
Nine months later, the litter arrives.
Four perfect, squirming babies; each one a perfect resembling their sire. Smaller than humans yet twice as resilient.
They’re all yours. All theirs.
And your mates spend the next months rotating night feeds, changing tiny diapers, and arguing over who gets to hold the kittens longest while you spend it sprawled in the biggest bed they could find, purring loud enough to rattle the windows, tail curled around four tiny bodies that smell like home.
Their princess.
Their queen.
The mother of their future.
And the happiest, most pampered cat hybrid in the world.
being simon's riley one and only lap cat, sweet thing with fluffy, fluttering ears and long tail that lays across his lap just as your body, slightly curled, splayed over his muscular thighs and nose burrowing in the cotton fabric of his pajama pants, enjoying the long, delicate strokes of his rough, calloused palm he brushes down your head and to the small of your back, chuckling deep and smoky at the way your spine stretches out beneath the gentle touch.
to be honest, he needed someone who would always be waiting for him at home, not only as a family member, or wife, or children, but something more affectionate, pet like, with fluffy body parts, with constantly needy behavior, curling up on his lap or chest with loud purrs and rubbing against the sloping curve of his stubbled cheekbones, nosing in the crook of his neck sweet and pliable, meowing at the tight squeeze of his pawing hands, going lax anytime he chooses to pick you up or stroke down.
simon loves how you seek him at the early morning light when he crawls out of the bed for his tea, in nothing but the pajama pants and naked chest, muscles softened, covered by the pudgy layer of little fat he accumulated by lazing out with you on the couch or the bed, a place for you to sink your clawed nails in when you follow his form out of the bedroom, curling behind his back, affectionate and clinging, the expanse of his scarred, tissued skin falling victim to your kneading fingers.
you tilt your head and crane your neck out for him when he bends to smother you in tender kisses, scratching behind your ears that flutter at the touch and elicit those adorable purrs deep from your throat, eyes barely open to look at him, enough to see how his own crinkle, pale eyelashes low over the tawny irises, the pupil shudders to dilate in response to yours, focused on with pooling, overflowing tenderness that makes simon so much softer on the usually razory edges, just for you.
simon takes care of you, your every need, especially when you start to whine about how empty and aching you are, your panties sodden, soiled by the slick that oozes and pools down onto the cotton with your need for him, to your gaping hole end up stuffed full of his cock, sheathed deep and secure along your pulsing, viscous walls, tight with warmth as you purr in against his solid chest, nuzzling over the softness of his muscles, as his hand pats across your plump ass.
catahoula hybrid!johnny, who’s as affectionate as they come, to such a degree that it can be overwhelming at times, and cat hybrid!reader, who’s sick and tired of being borderline harassed day in and day out.
he’s insufferable, truly, absolutely uncivilized. always barking at you, tugging at your tail, taunting and teasing, and invading your personal space, no matter how many times you swat or hiss at him, despite all the lectures price’s given him on what is and is not appropriate in the workplace. he just can’t take a hint!
he interrupts your naps, hounds you at mealtimes, gets all pouty and whiny anytime you cuddle up to kyle in the common room, even goes as far as to chase you out of your favorite hidey-holes, as if it’s all just some game to him. simon thinks it’s hilarious, the traitor, and so does kyle, though he at least pretends to pity you, always soothing your ire with treats and pets. the captain’s the only one who takes it seriously, but that’s more so out of fondness for you than any genuine concern.
he’ll let you hunker down in his office, curled up in his lap, petting the top of your head and scratching behind your airplaned ears while you mewl about how “he’s such a bully!” and “why can’t he just leave me alone?”
you’ve met plenty of canine hybrids who’ve liked to posture and front in an attempt to intimidate you, flashing fang and snarling at you until your tail puffed up, but never one as insistent as sergeant mactavish. you aren’t sure if he hates you or if he’s simply socially inept. it leaves you in a constant state of anxiety, as if he’ll sneak up try to take a bite out of you.
“he doesn’t mean to scare you,” john soothes, though sympathetic to your plight. “he wants to be your friend, he just…comes off a little too strong, s’all.”
“i don’t want to be his friend,” you huff, petulant, to which he pinches your hip.
“we’re a team, kitty. that means playing nice with one another. i’ll talk to johnny, i’ll tell him to tone it down, and you take it easy on the poor bastard, hm? he means well.”
you know he’s right, even if it irks you. at the end of the day, johnny’s the one watching your six on the field, the one holding your life in his hands. he might be tactless, and slobbery, and overall abhorrent, but he’s still your teammate.
now, that doesn’t mean your going out of your way to accommodate him, you still spend a fair amount of time avoiding him as though he’s got fleas, but you do indulge him when you can bear it. you let him sit with you at lunch, albeit reluctantly, and try not to complain so much when he imposes on you and kyle’s quality time (though you’ll hiss at him if he dares ask for pets when the sergeant’s clearly occupied with you), and you even allow him to join in on your sunbathing, so long as he keeps quiet.
you still don’t like him—of course not—but you learn to tolerate him. for the sake of the team, because there’s no room for infighting in the 141. that’s all it is. you’re keeping the peace. you’re gracious like that.
yet, when johnny’s shot in the hip during an operation, you take it the hardest. it doesn’t matter how many times the others tell you that it’ll be fine, that he’ll come back good as new, you won’t be consoled. not until you see him with your own two eyes.
the whole time he’s in surgery, you’re planted in the waiting room like a sentinel, wringing your tail in your hands, ears twitching constantly, not even price’s gentle scratching and simon’s offers of a warm lap to nap on enough to soothe you. you outright scoff at kyle when he even suggests leaving, though it’s just to visit the cafeteria.
because he might be a dumb dog but he’s your dumb dog, and as far as you’re concerned, only you’re allowed to make him bleed.
no one has the gall to protest when, once you’re invited into his room, you climb into bed with him, tail wrapped around his legs like it’s built from steel rather than fur, wide eyes glaring at every nurse that’s bold enough to approach.
for once, you’re not complaining about his stench, or about how he’s drooling in his sleep, or about his wicked teeth being so close to your throat. you’ll never admit it, but you almost miss his wagging tail and ear-splitting barking. it’s uncomfortable, seeing him so still, so sated. you don’t like it. not one bit.
when johnny finally stirs, it’s to your gentle purrs rattling the shoddy bed-frame, his blanket pilled and tattered from your kneading claws, warmed, not by the painkillers, but by your body pressed tight to his.
when realization hits him, he wags his tail so hard he rips his stitches, much to your, and the doctors’, dismay.
I have returned friend, with more brainrot though this time being hybrid reader. It's winter and there's some heaters around base to help keep a little more warm, our dear cat hybrid reader is just chilling crouched infront of one nappin. Extra toasty they are that you can see stream floating off them 🤣
The second you all came inside, you immediately plopped down by the space heaters in the rec room. There as a chorus of groans and mutters about turning up the heaters, but you tuned them out.
You made your way over directly to one of the heaters and simply plopped down. Your tail curled around your body and your ears flicked with content as the heat did its work and warmed your cold body.
You didn't notice how your team had gone silent, how a snort escaped from Johnny and a chuckle from Kyle. You didn't see Simon slowly take out his phone and Price tilting his head to the side. "That's fucking beautiful." Price had chuckled with a shake of his head.
What he was speaking about, was you.
You, lounging infront of the heater like the cat you are, had literal steam rolling off of you in spirals. Sure, you didn't bother to dry off. Nobody did. But seeing actual steam emanate from you was hysterical. By now, one of your ears twitched and you opened an eye with annoyance.
"What are you fruit loops giggling about...?" You trailed off and took in the scene for the first time. Johnny was wiping tears from his eyes, Kyle had also pulled out his phone along with Simon. Price had taken off his hat and ran a hand through his hair, huffing in amusement.
"You, Sergeant." Simon said, his eyes crinkling in a rare smile. You turned your gaze to your body, and your eyes widened at what you saw.
Steam.
Fucking steam was coming off of you.
You stared blankly for a moment before absolutely bursting out with laughter. You rolled around on the ground like a worm before coming to your senses and wiping away the tears from your eyes. "What the fuck?" You giggled, amusement dancing in your eyes as you turned to your team. "Here here - you guys try!"
Within the next few minutes, you were all in a pile by the heater, radiating steam. A cartoon-y ass scene, but one of the few good ones.
blah blah blah kitten hybrid!reader getting into owner!simon's edible gummy stash, only to be fucked crazy when you start presenting your hole with mewls and carpet scratches once the high hits
Realistic cat girl who doesn't like attention until she's in heat...?
Like usually a brat, yeah. But you know what cats are doing the second they're in heat? Ass in the face and SCREAMING.
Ghost goes and sits on the couch, cat!girl coming out immediately, Whining loudly, crawling into his lap and just sticking her butt into Simon's face and letting her arms hang off the couch, making air biscuits. All while just wiggling her hips, as if the position is much simon can work with.
(other than eating her out from the back <3)
Yes!! Simon's catgirl girlfriend absolutely dislikes his attention unless she's in heat💗
Simon's eyes were on you the moment you came strutting out of his bedroom, your hard nipples poking out of the shirt you were wearing— one of his shirts, which was still dirty and was previously in the laundry basket only to be dug out by your bratty paws.
He watches in amusement as you say nothing to him, simply offering him a half-lidded glare from over your shoulder as you set on his lap, flexible body taking a few seconds to switch positions, your bare ass right in his face, loud whines and purrs coming out of your body. He tries to move his head away, thinking it's simply one of your bratty displays of ''affection'', only realizing what's going on when you refuse to move, wiggling your hips in front of him.
“That bad, huh?” Simon teases, his calloused hand trailing up from your shoulders to your ass, seeing your back arch instinctively with his touch. You simply let out another loud whine until he gets the message, starting to lift up the shirt while his free hand keeps running up and down your spine.
“Fuckin' hell...” He whispers, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down when he realizes just how needy you are. He stares at your sopping pussy for a few seconds before adjusting your hips and leaning down, his tongue flicking out to taste your slick, his actions a mix of dominance and lust.
He can feel his cock getting hard from just tasting you, half-lidded brown eyes closing when he sees your arms hanging off the couch, fluffy paws making air biscuits while he eats you out. Your back arches just to press your pussy closer to his mouth, making Simon smirk as his tongue continues to lap at your sensitive cunt.
He shifts on the couch, his warm tongue delving deeper into your cunt, his actions becoming needier by the moment as if you're not the one who needs a proper fucking. His free hand comes up to spank your ass, only making your whines grow shamelessly louder.
“Dirty fuckin' thing, shoving your filthy cunt in my face...” He scolds playfully, wanting to see just how bad you were having it. Normally, you would've smacked him in the head with your paw for even looking at you for a bit too long, but right now? All you can do is whine, pushing your ass closer to his face.
“It's not filthy.” Your defiance shines through even when all your warm body needs is to get fucked by Simon, clenching around nothing when you think about having his thick, veiny cock inside you again. He lets out a soft chuckle before pushing you away from him gently, not even having the time to clean his mouth before you're straddling him, lips crashing against his as you rub your sopping cunt against his hardened cock, shamelessly tasting your own juices on his tongue.
hey!! first of all i hope you’re doing better, i actually do miss your fics and i was wondering if you could write something about elquackity with a cat hybrid s/o when you come back, please?? 🩷
Meow Meow
♡⃕ Relationship} El!Quackity x Cat Hybrid! Fem! Reader
♡⃕ Summary} "ElQuackity finds you in the middle of the forest and decides to adopt you. After all, he always wanted a kitten"
♡⃕ Notes} English is not my first language, there may be mistakes. I'm sorry for anything. Sorry if this fanfic is bad, I tried as hard as I could. This is for you anon who asked 3 times!
ElQuackity was walking through the forest, having just completed a foundation mission. It was calm, the sun almost setting, until he heard a bush stirring next to him.
He quickly draws his axe, ready to attack whoever it was. He approaches, curious to see who it was. And to his surprise… He comes across a little cat hybrid?…
His eyes widen, lowering the gun, when he sees you wearing nothing but a dirty shirt. Your ankle was bruised, blood was coming out.
He could feel his heart sink, you were so cute… He always wanted a kitten for himself, after all, all the villains had a cat.
“Hey gatito…” He whispers in a gentle voice, crouching down to your height. He approaches slowly, not wanting to scare you.
You try to step back but your injured ankle prevents you from doing so, you whimper in pain. He approaches, I reach out to caress his head and chin, you growl, trying to push him away, but he isn't scared.
As soon as he starts stroking your head and chin, you snuggle against his hand, purring. ElQuackity couldn't believe it, you were purring! For him! It was one of the most adorable things he had ever seen!
He picks you up, deciding to take you to his house. For you to be his pet.
₊˚⊹♡ ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎
The first thing he did when he got home was take you to the bathroom to give you a bath. He filled the bathtub with warm water, and began to take off his clothes. As soon as he picked you up to put you in the bathtub, you started trying to escape, scratching his arms and his face.
“Ei gatito! Ei! He screams in pain, trying to protest, but you didn't hear him, you still continued to scratch him. He finally managed to throw you into the bathtub, and started bathing you.
₊˚⊹♡ ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎
When he was done, he dried you off and took you to his room. Placing you on the bed and handing you a blue sweater that was too big for you. He takes a medical kit and places it on the bed next to you, ready to tend to your injury.
You look guiltily at his arm and face full of scratches. “I’m sorry…” You say shyly, he doesn’t look at you, starting to bandage your injured ankle. “It’s okay, cats don’t like water…. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
Once he finishes bandaging your ankle, he smiles. He turns to look at you, starting to stroke your chin, you purred happily.
“So… you didn’t tell me your name…” He says. Does he realize how stupid it was, he brought you to his house without knowing your name? You look at him with half-closed eyes. “I don’t have a name…” you say slightly sadly, looking away.
He seemed surprised, don't you have a name?… He could give you one then. “How about… {Reader’s Name}” He says after thinking for a bit. You smile at the name, you liked it, so beautiful! "I liked!" You say, smiling. And he smiles too.
₊˚⊹♡ ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎
He takes you to the kitchen, to feed you too. He places you in the chair, heading to the kitchen, but quickly returning with a plate of cooked fish in one hand and a glass of hot milk in the other. He places it in front of you, letting you eat in peace. You looked hungry as you ate everything quickly.
"It is delicious!" You say with a smile, and he smiles too. He turns to look at the window, seeing that it is already night. “It's late, we should sleep…” He says, taking the glass and plate and taking it to the kitchen. He comes back, taking your hand and leading you to his room.
He changes into a gray blouse and white boxer shorts with red hearts. You cover your face, not wanting to see this scene.
He lies down on the bed, patting his side. “Lay down next to me.” You look at him blushing, eyes wide. “Do you… want me to sleep with you?” You stutter, embarrassed at the thought, but you didn't think it was a bad idea.
He didn't say anything, just waited for her reaction. You let out a sigh, walking over to him. You lay down next to him, very close to him. He takes the blanket and covers you both, hugging you while placing his chin on your head.
“Good night, mi gatita…” he says, starting to sleep. You blush, snuggling against his chest. No one has ever been so kind to you… You sleep with a smile on your face, feeling loved.
