It was a hard time for John; at least one a month he had to turn into a werewolf. Because of the full moon and…other reasons. But fuck, was he stressed from missions.

He could feel the twitching, the painful sensations starting from his legs, going to his spine. John dug his hands through his hair, groaning. He was tired of this bullshit, if he could just relax, it would be easier.

Unfortunately, he was full transformation when you, his lieutenant, walked in. His snout forming as the last detail.

“Get the fuck out.” He growled, pinning his ears. John was a tad dizzy from that transition—but he managed to recover well. “Get. Out.” He repeated, pointing to the door with his clawed paws.