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bouncybennyyrabbit · 4 months

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So, I literally cannot stop thinking about being fucked by a lion shifter.

We would start with him opening me up, stretching me with his fingers. He hasn't shifted, because he doesn't plan to. He still doesn't think I'm ready for it.

He stretches me with his fingers, and once he finally decides I'm ready, he pushes his regular human cock into my ass.

We've never done it this way before, it's practically a consolation prize because he still refuses to use his lion dick on me, and this is as far as he's willing to go. It's big, bigger than average, and he's always so, so, so careful because he doesn't want to hurt me, no matter how much I beg him to.

He fills me slow, my hole consuming him, suffocating him, and he groups my hips tightly, hard enough to bruise. I moan, I whine, I plead for him to go faster, harder, but he refuses.

He fucks me slow, pushing in, pulling out, pushing in, pulling out, but slowly, he cracks. I beg, I plead, I cry for him to please just hurt me.

And finally, he does. He pulls out fully, digging his finger nails into my hips. They're sharper than usual. He thrusts his cock inside of me, fast, hard, and something is different this time. It's slightly bigger.

He growls, mumbles something under his breath that I don't care to try to understand, feeling his nails dig into me.

I realize as he begins to pull back that he felt warmer, that something was different about his hands, there's hair—I feel the barbs pull at my insides, and I moan.

He's careful pulling back out, he knows the barbs hurt more going out than in.

He thrusts into me hard, rough, fast, and pulls out slower. I moan, I whimper, my eyes fill with tears because it hurts.

It hurts, and my hips start to bleed where his nails—claws—dig into my flesh.

He hears me, he feels me around him, he can smell the blood dripping down my sides now, wetting his hand—paws now—and he can't stop himself from pulling out just as hard and fast as he thrusts inside of me.

I cry out. It hurts, it hurts, but I asked for this, I begged for this, and now I'm getting it.

I bleed.

The spikes on his lion cock dig into me just enough to make me bleed, him claws in my hips make me bleed, and even as he doesn't realize it, he chomps down on my shoulder, and makes me bleed with his teeth. I'm crying, because it hurts, and he doesn't stop. He fucks me exactly how I wanted him to.

He feels the wetness around his cock, a different kind than the lube he'd used, and he knows what he's done, and it only makes him fuck me harder.

He's not thinking clearly, and I stop thinking at all.

I cry, and moan, and my empty cunt is soaked. He leans over me, his furry body pressing down on me, pressing me closer to the mattress, hips thrusting wildly. He sounds like an animal, because he is one, he is one, and I'm so close.

It hurts, but I'm so fucking close, and he's fucking into me, and I'm bleeding, and he finally doesn't care.

He finally gives me what I want. He cums inside of me before I finish, biting violently on my shoulder with his powerful jaws, thrusting violently into me, and as he does so, I finish, my cunt rapidly flexing around nothing as I cry.

Afterwards he apologizes and cleans me up and promises to never hurt me ever again.

We both know that next time, he'll break again, because now he knows what it's like.

#nsft #werelion #werelion smut #terato #nsft writing #teratophillia

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kemvee · 2 years

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Happy Halloween - part 2 🎃🦁

Were-Lion Cullen but this time he's hot. For the extremely n/sfw version click here

#cullen rutherford #commander cullen #shirtless #lemons #so so lemony #werelion #dragon age inquisition #kemvee paints

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floofangel · 1 year

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Commission for @ge154 of their werelions

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Interested in a commission? Check out my prices here!

#monster #monster boy #monster girl #lion #werelion #therianthropy #commission

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kawa-index · 1 year

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Gado the Lion, fanart from Bloody Roar

#fanart #bloody roar #gado #lion #werelion #furry art

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discodeviant · 1 year

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Not Duke, Not Prince - Part 5

(POV Hopper) Billy | Teen | 2.6k Alternate Canon/Divergence

And this is where the initial cracky silly plotline went awry and turned into something that I will be elaborating on down the line lol. Please enjoy <3

Made for @billyhargrovebingo!

Prev. | Part 1

Hopper sat in his van with a blanket over his shoulders, clinging to the police radio that crackled in and out since before sunrise. He’d gone through three coffees and a whole pack of Camels waiting for a sign, a sound, a rumble in the earth. Nothing. Nothing yet, at least, so he waited a little longer.

Two weeks prior, a man arrived in the hospital’s intensive care unit after showcasing severe, presumed, stab wounds and bruising over his chest. One Neil Hargrove, one Hopper knew of because his son was in the hospital only days before that with similar injuries, though much less severe. Much less deliberate, if Hopper were to think so, which made him queasy to consider.

Once he was conscious again, Hargrove Senior claimed that his son had done that to him. Jumped on, scratched, bitten; “Stabbed?” asked Officer Phil Callahan, the regrettable choice sent along to question him, but Hargrove shook his head. “He didn’t have a weapon on him?” And again.

“Teeth… he—he wasn’t—wasn’t human.”

It came out on the very same day that there had been reports of an earthquake from neighbors, thunder or explosions or God-knew-what. Commies, yelled one old woman, or winter fireworks. Her husband said it was like a herd of angry buffalo. None of that helped, obviously, because neither buffalo nor such violent political expressionists existed in the quaint town of Hawkins. Neither of those things were what shook the town just further than its outskirts, a few miles in each direction from the Hargrove household on Cherry Lane. One neighbor reported unusual rustling in his bushes, but even that wasn’t very useful.

Despite the odds favoring against him, Hopper had instincts that very seldom disappointed when it mattered. Callahan said something about a cougar, and then it finally made sense—maybe, if Hopper was right.

And he had been right once before, one night when he went to his cabin for a weekend getaway on the anniversary of his first daughter’s death. Whiskey, cigars, the cheapest pizza Hawkins could offer—that was his plan, and it was underway. On his day of mourning, he sat on the porch in an old rocking chair, beer in his hand, air in his gut that refused to escape, a cigar in his shirt pocket that he didn’t get a chance to light before tiny headlights caught his attention. Only for a moment, a split second in time, and then they disappeared.

So, maybe they weren’t headlights. A trick of the eye, perhaps. He was drunk and fuzzy anyway, distrusting of himself to see anything clearly, so he pretended to forget about it. Finished his beer, smoked his cigar, stood up to go back inside and sleep the pain off until morning. Before he could, however, there was a disturbance in the trees just ahead of him, something running and hiding from him until he threatened arrest. Had it been some delinquent teenager, it would have run away. It would have listened. Instead, it waltzed up to him with a long, red tail swishing behind a lean body, dark eyes that glimmered in the light of the new moon.

It was a fox.

Moments later, a little girl stood before him, naked and trembling, patches of auburn hair all over her body until they shed away later into the night. Hopper thought he was hallucinating, that his cigars were laced with something more illegal than they already were. The girl challenged more than feared him. She needed to get inside.

Three years later, she remained with him. A tattoo behind her ear read 011, and she called herself Eleven—or, the bad people did. Hopper started calling her El, which she took to quickly. When, one day, Hopper asked if the bad people turned her into a fox, she said no, she had always been that way, and she may have been a fox first. She didn’t know or care. Papa was long gone, the doctor was dead, and her stories only ever got more grim.

So Hopper waited for another earthquake, and then his radio crackled again.

“Come in, Jim, do you copy?” It was Callahan.

“Loud and clear, Phil. Over.”

“There’s a guy here harassing me for you… Says his name is—what’s your name again?” There was a garbled answer before Callahan repeated it: “Murray Bauman—Over.”

Hopper’s eyebrows turned in. “That Chicago prick?” he asked, having read an article written about said Chicago prick and the outlandish conspiracies he journaled about. “He’s here? In Hawkins. Over.”

“Unfortunately. Over.”

“What the hell’s he doing here?” Silence. “Phil!”

“You didn’t say, ‘Over!’” Hopper rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. He won’t tell me. He’s requesting you directly.” He could hear the inattentive look on Callahan’s face even from the middle of an open field. “And he’s not leaving until you talk to him. Over.”

“Christ,” Hopper said, muttering to himself. Then into the radio, “Fine. I’ll be there in twenty. And I’m giving him five. Over and out.”

“All I’m saying is, I don’t think it’s a coincidence, and before you cut me off again, there is historical evidence of house pets turning feral and morphing into other biological orders entirely—“

“So you’re saying the kid’s a cat with a tummy ache. Okay.”

Murray huffed and rolled his jaw, having gone through similar conversations with Hopper before because Hawkins was a strange little town, and he liked to keep tabs on it. They sat in the chief’s office, Hopper with his boots kicked up on the desk, Murray with his hands folded in his lap and a flat line across his lips. The combover was looking extra sharp that afternoon.

“If you’d let me finish, you’d be hearing that there are cases in the last thirty-odd years of this happening as a result of chemical mishandling during the war, and said chemicals causing permanent and significant damage to the animal kingdom. Three years ago, a woman in Memphis reported a possum sneaking into her hamster’s cage and eating it”—Hopper laughed—“but she inspected it more closely herself and determined that it was, in fact, her hamster that had transformed, based on behavioral evidence and markings on its skin that Mister Cheesy had as well.”

Smoke plumed from a cigarette resting on Hopper’s ash tray. “Those are a lot of words for a small man,” he said, maintaining an expert pokerface so as not to give away the returning curiosity of his own daughter.

“It’s not just cute, fuzzy little animals, okay, it’s wolves—“

“Werewolves?” He couldn’t help himself now.

Murray continued without missing a beat: “—and coyotes, cattle, chickens, ducks, toads, foxes, humans—“ But the buzz of Hopper’s alarm clock went off right when he said it would, five minutes after his ass met the chair. Murray stopped, stood up, straightened his jacket and said, “Well, I’m afraid my five minutes is up.” That smile made Hopper want to punch him. “Call me if you change your mind—“

“Wait.” He stood from his own chair and walked around the desk, closed the office door, drew the curtains. “Sit the hell down.”

Four days later, Murray joined Hopper in his van to drive to the clearing a mile out from Brimborn Steel Works. Max was in the back seat after having a long conversation with Hopper some days before, wearing his blanket over her legs. Neil was in no position to stop her going along for the ride, not that he knew. Susan didn’t particularly care. She clutched onto her skateboard as Murray asked Hopper, “And you’re sure this is the exact location he was attacked?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door, pointed a stiff finger in Hopper’s face and said, “You stay here. You”—he looked at Max—“come with me.”

“Christ, she’s a kid, Murray. What the hell are you doing?”

“Let me handle this,” he said, and Max didn’t argue getting out of the car. Either she was eager, or her hair jumped up just enough to make her look it. That stiff grin on Murray’s face shut Hopper right up, and he pulled the blanket from the back seat to drape over himself.

From the van, he watched Billy’s little sister stomp over to the tree line and face the darkened wood with Murray. He looked so small, and Max looked even smaller. So clueless even though, by then, Hopper knew Murray was far from it. He had proved that he knew exactly what he was doing, but Hopper had trouble believing him anyway. After all, it was a lion they were looking for, and they were in its territory.

Both Max and Hopper laughed when the first roar came, more of a purr from Murray’s throat than something to fear or be threatened by. He did it again, pursing his lips, taking deep breaths in between each long, thick propeller-like mimicry. A few minutes of that, and Murray was off to the next sound: a raspy huff, complete with strained neck motions. It was primal, Hopper thought. And then Murray howled, and he rolled his eyes and got out of the van too.

“We’re not hunting werewolves, Murray!”

“Real lions don’t roar like the movies, Jim!” he said with outstretched arms and started up again, making faces towards Max like this wouldn’t have been embarrassing if he were anyone else.

They were breathy roars, not unlike Hopper’s groans when he sat in his lazyboy after a long day. It continued for a while, Murray adding heavy stomps into the mix that hardly made any noise at all—but he was the expert, as reluctant as Hopper was to entertain it, so there weren’t any more interruptions. Max crossed her arms and stood back; Hopper leaned against the roof of the van, blanket over him like a cape, and waited.

And waited.

And then it happened, the earthquake, the rumbling at the surface of his skin that made his hair stand up and his heart retreat into his chest. “What the hell…” He looked around, and everything rumbled again. Max’s eyes found his, frantic, excited, scared and confused all at once. Murray kept up the charade, and the real roaring got louder every few seconds, sending bass-heavy waves straight to Hopper’s bones and nearly knocking the girl to the ground.

From the trees, there were the headlights again, only now he knew immediately that they weren’t headlights at all. Trees rustled far in the distance, the light flickering as a heavy stampede started towards them, right in Murray’s path, but even that didn’t stop him. The lights shone brighter, earthquake growing more powerful with every leap over roots and creepers and bushes, and—

Silence.

Murray held a hand up in front of him, cautious but not afraid. Max was stiff as a board. Hopper’s eyes locked onto the animal, locked onto Max, hand tight on the door in case they had to haul ass out of there, but the lion was still as a statue. Striking eyes, white and blue and glimmering in the sun, only saw him for a time, and then they found Hopper standing far in the background.

“No sudden movements, Jim,” said Murray, still unafraid, still smart. The lion growled in his direction, huffed, roared something small and nonthreatening but… displeased, maybe. Like it had been tricked.

Hopper nearly had a heart attack when it kicked its feet up again to charge at Max, who Murray had stepped away from when she wasn’t looking. Hopper wanted to strangle him, immediately jumping to try and do anything to keep it from killing her, but then it roared at him, fully bared teeth, standing in front of her like a guard dog. Which, he supposed, it was. Maybe. If it was really Billy Hargrove under all that golden mane and fur, behind a sharp face with eyes just as determined as the kid he’d seen in the hospital.

“Billy, it’s okay,” Max said then, softly, like she still wasn’t certain that this was her brother. The lion huffed, roars shrinking back to the Volkswagen growl only Neil had heard before. Defensive, protective, like stay away from my sister. “They’re—they don’t wanna hurt you.” She reached a hand out to touch its back, which made it flinch but not enough to deter its attention from potential threat. Max continued with long, gentle strokes down its back, then up to the base of its mane which curled in loose, messy ringlets like Billy’s hair. It turned its head, sniffed Max’s own mane, rubbed a wet nose against her shoulder, and she burst into tears. “Shit, it is you.”

“Careful,” Murray said, warning. “He could still snap like he did to your dad—“

“Jesus, I don’t care!” She dried her eyes in Billy’s fur, then looked at Murray with a fury Hopper hadn’t seen on anybody since the war. “And don’t you ever call him my dad again, weirdo, do you hear me!” Small, nimble fingers gripped tightly to the mane, and Murray offered a quiet apology.

“Guess it’s a good thing we brought you along, huh…” Hopper said. Max just cried and cried and cried, and eventually they left her alone with him.

She sat with Billy on the grass for a long time, talking as if he could answer, curling into his side like she was his cub. In a way, maybe she was. In a way, she was all he had left.

Hours later, they remained. Hopper sent numerous radios back to the station that Max was safe, that he would keep them updated with any news—which he didn’t, because he needed a story that wouldn’t get picked up by the bad men. He knew they were out there somewhere, closer than he may have thought. So he and Murray got to talking, and Max was still oblivious as she held Billy close, assuring him more than herself that she was safe and still with him.

Then he exhaled, and kept exhaling for far too long, so she sat up from her position on his side and saw that he was changing back.

“Hopper!” she yelled, and it was hard for the chief to look as fur shed, muscle mass all but disappeared, bones returned to a human structure, and Billy was himself again. He blinked, stirring himself awake with a heavy groan, and slipped away from Max’s touch. “Billy, are—“ Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, and the question fizzled off of her tongue because the answer might have been obvious. It might have encompassed everything running amok in her head, every thought and worry and regret in thinking that she’d lost him forever.

Billy looked exhausted and worn dry. He leaned back on one arm, not bothering to cover himself up. “Why the hell am I naked?” he asked, grumbling, taking the blanket from around Hopper’s shoulders and shivering underneath it.

“Growth spurt,” Hopper said, which made Billy laugh.

“Shit.” He scratched his nose with a handful of blanket and yawned, then looked over at Max, already having forgotten about Murray’s presence. “Do we gotta go home?” She shrugged and looked up at Hopper for an answer. There was something dark in Billy’s eyes, then, that he recognized vaguely. Something akin to the way children pleaded for forgiveness after breaking something fragile; a scared, broken kid running from bad men in bad places.

Billy sounded like a kid too when he said, “Please don’t make me go home.”

Part 6

#.discowrites #stranger things #stranger things fic #billy hargrove #jim hopper #chief hopper #murray bauman #max mayfield #werelion #werelion au #werelion billy hargrove #fanfic #billy hargrove bingo

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regretthevan · 1 month

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Werelion Leo is concerned about... things

#muscular #original character #muscle #digital art #furry #furry art #furry anthro #werelion

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sanctus-ingenium · 2 years

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(lion anon) I could have sworn you had art with a werelion in it? I do remember there being a stag with hands and your werewolf as well in the same scene. Either way, I love your werewolves too - they're how I came across your art! The hands is such a simple design choice, but it's an absolute genius motif. And thank you for showing more of your woofs (and manticore)!

OHHH NO i get who you mean now!! bro i had an entire important family of werelions in dnd they were a big deal... how did i forget that. mind like a sieve.

so: her name is Marina D'Ouilly, she's the daughter of a duke (in dnd... i later moved some of these characters to inver, an original setting, where marina became daughter of the king instead but not a werelion) and she was evil! also totally hairless in cat form, like a sphynx. very wrinkley

i think this was the only time i ever drew her sadly :/ she never actually showed up in the campaign and it ended before i could do more with her in this form. that said, she is a very important character in the inver books & super relevant there, but i decided to simplify the system so that the only were-animals were werewolves, because i wanted it to have a more firm backing in actual local myths and we definitely don't have lions here.

#werelion #finally...... i had one all along and never realised

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abbatoirablaze · 1 year

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SDAU-The Alpha & Omega, Chapter 3

Word Count: 1.2k

“Get out of the way, Bucky…”

Bucky’s jaw ticked as he looked at the bouncer, “where the fuck is she?”

“She’s not here.”

“I can fucking smell her…I know she’s here.”

“Aright, fine…she doesn’t want to fucking see you!” the brutish looking theta growled at him, “now I’m going to kindly ask you once before I knock your ass out…get the fuck out of my doorway, Barnes. Now.”

“She’s my mate!” Bucky said quickly, hoping that would by him some sympathy points, “you have to let me i-“

“I don’t give a damn,” he growled, “now bac-“

“I need to talk to her…it’s important…”

“What’s important, is that one of the dancers requested you not be allowed in,” he replied firmly, “and that dancer was her…now go away!”

Bucky stalked behind her as she slipped seamlessly through the trees. A warning growl left his lips as she looked over her shoulder, clearly enjoying the little cat and mouse game that the two of them had been playing.

“Little kitten!” Bucky purred in a husky voice, “be a good girl and come back…”

She giggled, earning another growl from the big cat. Padding away from him, she swung around another tree, disappearing behind the thick trunk.

The big cat inside of Bucky begged to be let loose; to claim the mate he was so desperate for. And he was doing everything in his power to remain in control.

He didn’t want to hurt her like the other women.

He genuinely cared for her, almost as much as he cared about Steve.

“Come catch me, Bucky,” she teased. Bucky took a step forward and she shimmied out of her clothes. Bucky’s inner panther growled yet again as she took a step back. Bucky’s eyes lit up, and he looked at her like she was his prey. She smiled, and shot him a wink, “if you can catch me, you can have me…alpha…”

And with that, she shifted, bounding off into the wilderness. Bucky roared, tearing off his own clothes. He shifted, immediately chasing after her.

“You can’t be here, Bucky…” she whimpered gently, her hands reaching up to touch the bruised and split skin on the young alpha’s face. He frowned, hissing as her fingertips brushed over his split lip, “oh god, what did he do to you? “

“You didn’t want to see me,” he sighed, not moving an inch from where the theta security guard and two more alpha bouncers had jumped him and laid him out in the alley when he’d refused to leave. He coughed, and she sighed, instantly cradling the young alpha’s head in her barely covered lap. He reached up and his own hands slipped over her form. He watched as the goosebumps rose on her skin; her reaction to him instantaneous, “baby, I-“

“My boss said you’re scaring the guys away,” she said quickly, “I was told either the bouncers couldn’t let you come in or I was fired…”

“Let me provide for you,” he begged gently, his hands stroking the theta panther’s cheek, “let me be your alpha…”

“Bucky…you’re leaned up against the dumpsters,” she sighed gently, “you don’t want stuff like this to keep happening to you…I-I’m a theta. Dancing is the only thing I’m good at, and you’re way too overprotective to let that go...we-we can’t…”

‘Baby…”

“I’m sorry Bucky,” she whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, “I’m so sorry, mate…but I can’t let you get hurt because of me.”

“What do you mean, she’s fucking gone?”

“Look Barnes, I’ve had everyone all but scour downtown…they can’t find your little girlfriend,” Thor said with a growl, “maybe it’s just best if you go find yourself another one.”

“She is my mate, god damn it!” the younger alpha roared, thrashing around in the shared living room. His arms swiped across the air, knocking over a lamp. The glass shattered across the floor as the two alphas eyed one another down.

“Stand down, Barnes,” Thor said firmly. The rest of the Rho house became quiet, sensing the tense situation unfolding in the house. Earlier that year, they had made him break up with Steve, upon the receipt of which, they allowed him to skip the rest of pledging, and initiated him as a brother. But now, it seemed that Bucky was willing to fight over being told to forget about yet another mate, “Listen, Buck…you’re a brother…but we both know I’m stronger than you right now…you’re barely a big cat…don’t make me have you hissing in the corner, crying for your mother. A matured bear will always beat out a big cat still going through puberty.”

Bucky continued to glare at the bear for a moment, before turning on his heel and storming out of the house.

“Fuck you, and fuck your rules, Odinson…” he hissed, making his way over to the one person he knew he could find comfort in.

He was quick to knock on the door, his eyes blacker than the night’s sky as it opened.

“Where the fuck is my omega?” he growled at one of the Sigma boys, pushing his way into the house, “where’s Steve?”

“MINI!”

The theta smiled as Jake had answered the door, his arm draped around his girlfriend. The goofy equivalent of nothing more than a golden retriever was grinning ear to ear as he invited the theta inside.

“Hey guys,” she greeted quietly, “I uh-I was coming to see Steve. Is he home?”

“Of course he is,” Skye giggled, shimmying out of her boyfriend’s grasp, “he’s been coaching the guys on how to act the past half hour because you were coming over.”

A blush rose to her cheeks as she peered over the shoulders of her friends, “he’s been-“

“Making sure no one makes an ass out of us,” Jake grinned, agreeing with her, “he’s been making sure no one insults you over your designation, and-“

“Not that any of the guys need it,” Skye interrupted, shooting her boyfriend a glare, “all of the guys are pretty good about not being judgemental. Especially when it comes to designations.”

“Well none of us knew that mini was a –“

“Mini!”

Her gaze went over to the sound of the voice. Steve had made his way out of the kitchen, and into her line of vision. He was quick to rush her, instantly tucking her into his side. She wrapped his arms around him, giving him a sweet side hug. But when she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, the lion released a lust-filled purr.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” Steve blushed, instantly catching himself, “I-I didn’t-“

“It’s okay Steve,” she said softly, nuzzling against his side, making the normally reserved omega feel a new sort of pride and stand a little taller, “I like knowing that you’re as into me as I am into you.”

“Really?” he asked nervously. She nodded, and the lion beamed, looking at Skye and Jake, “i-I guess you guys already know…but I want to formally introduce you to mini…she-she’s my-“

“We’re courting!” she finished, looking lovingly up into Steve’s eyes.

The timid lion smiled, a new purr rising from his chest. And this time, he didn’t care to stop it.

Chapter 4

Tag List: @teambarnes72, @lohnes16, @tenacioiusperfectionunknown

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