This book contains, fluff, smut, and angst. It has stories for male and GN readers. My main story posting page is on my Tumber (Silveon57) so everything originates from there.
KK: This is possibly one of my least favorite stories that I've written. Which then again makes me feel bad because this was requested. It was so easy to do at first but as I went on writing it I just found I couldn't really find my flow to the storyline like I could before. I'm also just tired because I write more at night than I do in the day. I just felt that I needed to get this one done and out there so I could let my brain have a breather. I hope you all understand and I promise the next one will be better.
(Please let me know if I missed any, I'm so tired I can't bother to look back.)
2,100+ Words
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You don't mean to brag, but your boyfriend is pretty fucking hot. He has short purple hair, indigo eyes, and soft skin. But the best part of him? His cat features.
Scaramouche was a spoiled and pampered house pet before he met you. He would spend his days laying in the sun, tail flicking lazily next to him, or eating some of the finest meat his owner had to offer. But being the person he is we all know he would be too much of a hassle to take care of forever. So when his owner left him after moving he didn't know what to do with himself.
Kicked out and abandoned from the only place he knew he had nowhere else to go. Just when he was at the lowest of the low his monthly heat cycle just had to kick in, collecting a lot of unwanted attention from other hybrid animals. He was convinced he was gonna be taken advantage of by the pack of dogs he met in the alleyway, but they never got the chance once you stepped in.
You were the only one who seemed able to keep their damn dick in their pants. So Scaramouche felt a little more at ease when staying with you. You didn't do much to him at all besides help feed and clean him daily, and even when there were moments when his heat got bad you'd hold your ground, refusing to let him do anything other than ride your thigh. He was so embarrassed whenever he had those short clarity periods, but he was always thankful you knew his true feelings compared to his body's actions.
After that Scaramouche stayed with you. It wasn't until after his heat he really found out you were a wolf, not a dog. But, it made sense since your ears were more pointed and your tail was more wild than kept.
Scaramouche loves staying with you. You knew how to give haircuts, all the best ways to brush out knots in his hair, and you always brought back the freshest meat when hunting. Truth be told he loves it more than the market-bought meat, mostly because it was grass-fed and untouched by human chemicals.
It really didn't take as long as you guys thought it would to start dating, it had only been four months, but you guys were inseparable.
Now about heats. Before dating it was as it was before, thigh riding, and now if he was lucky an occasional hand job, but after dating it was all fair game. Scaramouche was pissed that he had been missing out on the beast of a fucker you were all this time. You rarely ever acted like a wolf, but those instincts had to show up somewhere. Your dick pressed and ground against all the best places and your pace was ever brutal, but if he's really having a hard time you'll be so gentle, making sure he cums all over himself while you lick the tears on his cheek. Of course, you guys had the talk about condoms, can't have Scaramouche getting pregnant.
