#handler!ghost

- 🐮

Cw: teething, biting, sea food???, tell me if I missed any.

Ghost had been your handler for the past year, having to train and teach you everything you’d need to work with them. He’d seen your lows as often as your highs, from a whining pup, moaning about not receiving enough pets or kisses or treats, seemingly almost missing something, to an energetic mutt, bouncing off the walls and running laps at the prospect of praises and affection. 

He’d seen it all, every little moment you had that had him strain against the limit of his patience as a competent handler. And despite your age, far from being a young puppy with frail limbs and limp ears, you could act as on: whining, crying, barking until something - someone - gave you the attention you needed, but he’d never seen you do… this.

It was unusual for you to be this mouthy, teeth itching to sink into something, your teeth bared and snarling when anyone tried to take the object from your mouth. Ghost had bought you toys, boxes filled with softer chew toys rather than the hard plastic of a shoe or the metal bite of utensils, but you worked through them faster than he could provide. Perhaps you were bored of the repeated drills despite dogs being creatures of habit, or you were lacking activity, he was getting busier with all the reports and paperwork he had to fill in for Price. Especially with another PMZ being called for a joint alliance.

He worried that they’d pose a danger to you, so young and naive to how others could treat you as a hybrid, he had both Gaz and Soap follow you —or rather, you follow them; but when he saw you perk up at the sight of a giant man and another hybrid, a scarred tiger, Ghost felt his shoulders tense. You just had to find interest in a man - could he even be a man with how big he was? - heads taller than him, broad and dangerous. You had completely forgotten his orders, trailing behind the giant like a lost pup, tail wagging and eyes bright. 

You’d go missing for hours upon hours, leaving the Task Force as worried as they were confused, lost without the small ball of sunshine around them. They would go looking for you, asking around until they eventually found you curled up and asleep on your bed, your snoring echoing softly in Ghost’s room. It went on like that for the week and the next, only finding you in the Mess Hall or your bed, not knowing where you went during these long breaks. 

Until- until Gaz had found you straddling the giant’s - König’s - lap, you face covered in a thin layer of mucus and gnawing on a tentacle, long and dark and viscous. Ghost was livid, König being an octopus hybrid - however odd that sounded - and how at ease you both felt to let each other be so physically close to one another. Granted, you were a sociable hybrid, which seemed to bother him less than the sight of you biting on a König’s tentacle.

He knew you were somehow teething, but it bothered him how you were dealing with it with someone else instead of coming to him for a solution. Ghost would have to talk to you later.

Warnings - scruffing, handler!ghost, smut, dom/sub dynamic ig? Cause he’s your handler, vaginal fingering

Being in the safe house after an excruciatingly stressful mission felt like a breath of fresh air.

You were in your element as the blizzard blew around outside. You’d stripped off your gear, now just laying by the window and watching the snow.

“Looks like we’ll be stuck here for at least a few days,” Simon grumbled as he began taking his own gear off. “Storm just keeps gettin’ worse.”

You hummed. “Seems like it,” you murmured. “‘M not complaining.”

Your tail swished behind you as you stared out the window.

Ghost sighed and sat down on the couch closest to you.

Seeing him sitting, you finally moved from your spot to curl up next to him.

He moved his arm up to let you curl up to his chest.

“It’s kinda nice, huh?” You murmured, putting your ear over his heart. The steady rhythm always comforted you. “All alone in a snow storm, I mean.”

Ghost chuckled. “Sure.”

You purred quietly, rubbing your face on him.

He smiled against your cheek, gently carding his fingers through the thick layer of fur above your tail. “Got enough food in here for a month.” Simon said.

“Month and a half if we ration,” you corrected. “But you do like to eat.”

(Fun little time skip)

You were bent over the arm of the couch with Simon behind you, running his large hands over the small of your back.

He caressed the layer of soft, patterned fur on your skin.

“Pretty thing,” Simon hummed, pressing his thumbs into the fur. “Need me this much?”

You nodded, purring still. Your back was arched beautifully, mewling as you tried to push yourself back against him.

“Be patient,” he scolded softly. “I got you.”

Simon slid your underwear down to your knees. He slipped two fingers into your slick hole, gently massaging the spongy spot inside of you.

You moaned, clenching down on the intrusion.

“Shh,” he cooed. “Relax, pet. Just tryin’ to calm you down.”

He kept thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt, the scent of your slick filling the small house. The absolutely sinful sounds coming from your body were enough to make Ghost blush.

You relaxed around his fingers, your clawed hands kneading at the old cushions of the couch.

“Thaaat’s it, baby,” he praised. “Such a good kitty. Just calm down, your handler knows how to treat you.”

You were putty in his hands, just like always. He pressed down on your back again, making you purr louder.

“You wanna cum, baby?” He asked, moving his hand from your back to hold onto the base of your tail.

You nodded quickly. “Please? Pretty please?” You whined, your claws still kneading at the sofa.

thinking about puppy y/n, though not the whimpering, submissive, pawing-at-affection kind. the kind who is an overeager young pup, snapping at heels and barking at anyone who breathed their way wrong, who needs a little hands-on training to be reined in.

y/n, who has consistently gotten into fights with both their peers. y/n, who is entirely too eager to do training courses and expend their restless energy. y/n, who bristles at being ordered around but gets an insatiable, determined glint in their eyes every single time they are given a task to do.

eventually, price, dog person that he is, starts training you like one. maybe he doesn't even realize it at first, too focused on dragging you back by the scruff after almost tackling sergeant mactavish for cracking a little joke about being a border collie, but eventually he realizes it's not an inaccurate assessment.

so he starts praising you for successfully completed tasks. when you're dragging your feet, he offers to smuggle you your favorite MREs. it works better than expected, he thinks, when you preen, a little pridefully, at his "good drill, soldier."

eventually, the others start noticing too. it's ghost, at first—he'd been wary of your placement as their rookie in the first place, keeping a close eye on you. he'd been harder on you at first, expectedly ticked off at your reckless impulsivity. but now...

now, he finds himself reprimanding you with a stern bark of, "down, soldier!". when you're agitated, spouting provocations during downtime, mind running a little too wild, he only ignores you. only snaps when you get a little too bitey.

eventually, they wrangle you into something less untrained, yipping pup and into a half-trained guard dog.

you, for all your actual intelligence, has not quite realized what was going on. you were too busy enjoying the MREs and protein bars price has inconspicuously given you as rewards, much to the amusement of gaz and soap.

yet, when price pats you on the back with a gruff "good dog," and ghost closes his rough, calloused hand on your nape and growls a low "don't make me collar you, mutt," you feel a fuzzy, intoxicating satisfaction take hold of your mind. maybe you'll make it here after all.

Dragon hybrid! Reader x Handler! Simon “Ghost” Riley

Warnings: self destructive behavior, heavy scarring (not super detailed)

I combined new werewolf thoughts, the 1st.) one is that belly rubs actually being a great calming sensation to werewolves, even in human form just having a hand on their stomach helps ease tension (werewolves stimming via rubbing their own stomachs) and 2nd.) is the potential physical discrepancy that born werewolves would have extra nipples cause it’s interesting + kinda funny

No warnings for this one I don’t think?

Previous Post

Feline hybrids were looked down on for military use. They were deemed less trustworthy than their canine counterparts, less loyal.

You were a gift from a former comrade to the 141. A rare species.

You were currently stuck in a quarantine cell after being transferred to the 141 base.

“Once the 14 days are up, she’s all yours,” Price told Ghost. “Roman says she has all the necessary training to go in the field after her time’s up. But I’d like you two to get to know one another before you get into real danger.”

Ghost nodded. He’d completed a course a few weeks ago on hybrid handling in preparation for your arrival.

“Can I go in and talk to her?” He asked.

Price nodded and unlocked the door, letting Ghost in.

The lieutenant didn’t immediately approach, knowing cat hybrids were a bit skittish.

He sat down on the floor, took his gloves off, and tossed them over to you.

Ghost observed as you picked up the gloves and began sniffing.

You had the off-puttingly blue eyes of any snow leopard and the long plush tail to boot. Your fingers had black tips that matched the fur scattered around your body.

Little spots of black and white fur were dappled across your skin lightly.

You sniffed at his gloves, your ears were pinned back firmly to your head, the fur on your neck stood up straight.

“My name is Lieutenant Simon Riley,” Ghost said. “Call me Ghost.”

You looked up for just a second to acknowledge his speaking, but quickly went back to curling up around the gloves.

“I think you’ll like it here,” he continued. “We‘be got a specialized training field for hybrids, Price even bought new stuff for felines. There’s a mutt round here somewhere, Soap. You’ll meet him.”

You paused and looked up at Simon again.

“Mutt?” You murmured.

“Canine,” Ghost corrected. “Red wolf I’m pretty sure. Think he’s mixed with a domestic breed, though.”

You tossed Ghost’s gloves back over to him.

“Once your quarantine is up, I’ll show you around. We’ve got some serious bonding to do.”