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When you agreed to take in two retired canine hybrids from the SAS you didn't really think anything of it at first. After all, you've helped countless hybrids find their forever home with a loving family or a pack that readily took them in in the past. You were, of course, prepared for a bigger challenge than you usually faced because of these hybrids' past with the military. The files you got on them ahead of meeting them didn't tell you a whole lot about their experiences with the special forces; most of it was declared classified and made it impossible for you to anticipate anything about their characters or wants and needs in advance—only that under no circumstances should they be separated.
So when you meet Johnny and Simon, you've already spent days getting your house ready for their arrival, have bought a ton of new blankets and toys, and have prepared your spare room for them as well as the living room. You are a firm believer in giving your foster hybrids as much privacy and freedom as you could, allowing them to use the common rooms just as freely as you do but always giving them the opportunity to retreat back to their room and close the door whenever they feel like it. And you never had problems with this decision in the past. In your experience, the hybrids are much faster to trust you and feel comfortable around you because of it, and that's really all you want before you start looking for their forever home with them.
And it isn't any different with Johnny and Simon. When you give them the grand tour of your modest but comfortable home, showing them everything, from the living room to the vast backyard and lastly their very own room, Johnny's ears perk up and his tail starts to wag behind him in unmistakable delight. Without warning, he nuzzles close to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck while his entire body presses close to yours, making you stumble back a few steps because of his unrestrained enthusiasm and build.
"Well, I'm glad you like it," you say with a laugh, surprised but not upset about how he's this comfortable with you and being close to you already.
Simon on the other hand takes a lot more time warming up to you and his new environment, but you remain patient with him, giving him the time and space he needs to get accustomed to this new situation, trusting Johnny's uncanny ability to tell you exactly what Simon is currently thinking or needing with only one look at his usually silent companion.
Overall, they're a delight to have around, helping you around the house without you having to ask them and going on runs together with them in your free time that usually end with you questioning all your life choices leading up to the decision to dust off your running shoes while the two hybrids haven't even broken a sweat yet, two pairs of eyes pleading for you not to take them home yet. You always indulge them, of course you do, even though it means your legs kill you with how many miles you ran with them the next day. And the day after that. And also the day after that.
In the evenings, the three of you quickly establish a routine that consists of a big and meat-centric dinner for both of them and a more balanced one for you, doing the dishes together before collapsing on your couch in the living room. You never expect them to stay and watch TV with you, you've told them more than once they're free to go to their room if they'd rather spend some time alone together, but it seems they're more than content to be around you. To no one's surprise, Johnny immediately cuddles up to you the moment you sit down on the couch, laying his head in your lap so you can pet him to your—and more importantly his—heart's content, whining pitifully if you even stop your ministrations for nothing more than a few seconds.
Simon, predictably, takes more time to feel comfortable with being close to you, but eventually he too seeks out your touch willingly, which leads to you being sandwiched between two solid and warm bodies whenever you so much as think about relaxing on your couch for a few minutes after work.
You also learn just days after taking in Johnny and Simon that their bond is much stronger, or more accurately… much more intimate than you first assumed. You never address it, not wanting to pry into their private relationship when you have no right to, and they never mentioned it to you either.
Not that they have to, the muffled but unmistakable noises you hear through the wall separating your bedroom from theirs in the night, low growls and deep moans as well as the tell-tale creaking of their mattress and the rhythmic banging of their headboard against the wall, paired with the angry red marks that run down Johnny's back and the bite marks decorating Simon's thighs, chest and neck you catch glimpses of in the mornings paint a clear picture of their nightly activities.
You try to ignore it, try not to listen to them, you really do, but sometimes they're just so loud that you hear them even over the music on your headphones while hiding your burning face in your pillow, fighting against the shameful urge to just let your hand wander between your thighs and take care of yourself to their sinful noises. You never do though, the unsatisfied heat still simmering low in your stomach when you get up in the mornings, leaving you cranky and much more responsive to even the smallest of touches which coincidentally correlates with the days Johnny's and Simon's understanding of your personal space is especially questionable. They're constantly brushing up against you on mornings like these or trapping you on the couch between them during the evenings, one of them all but crawling between your legs to lie their head on your soft stomach, wrapping strong arms around one of your legs and massaging your thighs with warm and steady fingers, while the other one drapes himself around the rest of your body, pressing his face against your sensitive neck and just breathing you in. And if it's Johnny, you can also be sure that at some point he can't resist the temptation to let one of his sharp canines graze against your soft skin, nibbling gently just to hear you gasp before sweetly soothing the sting with his tongue.
It takes you no time at all to catch up on what exactly they're doing and you're decidedly not pleased with them because of it. After all, you want to rehome them, but with how they're behaving you just know the process of finding a forever home for them will be nothing short of a nightmare. And you tell them as much as you sit them down one evening, scolding them how their behavior is entirely inappropriate and you expect them to behave themselves better starting right now.
Simon listens to you dutifully like the good boy he is, starting to ask for cuddles and pets instead of just trapping you under his solid body and whining at you until you give in and run your fingers through his hair and scratch behind his ears. Johnny, however, seems to take your words as a challenge, bending your rules and testing your patience whenever and however he can, positively driving you up the fucking wall with his behavior.
You're livid when you come home from work one day and you have to kick him out of your room for the third time this week—the only room in your whole house he knows he has absolutely no business being in. Only tonight, he's sprawled out in the middle of your bed like he has every right to, with his shirt pushed up over his toned stomach while one of his hands disappears beneath the waistband of his shorts, wrapped around his noticeable erection, jerking himself off with hurried strokes as precum stains the fabric of his underwear. He doesn't stop when you yell at him to, only quickening his pace as you stomp over to him and grab him by the back of his thick neck, trying to haul him up and off your bed, but he's too strong and heavy for you to get him to move in any direction at all, the wet noise of his fist gliding over his cock obscene and entirely too loud in the small space between the two of you.
"Bad dog, Johnny!" you scold him, your furious eyes boring into his, his pupils blown wide enough to leave only a small ring of his brilliant blue irises around them. But your words only seems to spur the mutt on further, relishing in the feeling of your unrelenting hand clamping down hard on the back of his neck, your skin warm and soft against his burning one, panting and whining as he never stops his hand's movement on his leaking cock until his entire body suddenly pulls taunt and he comes with a low growl of your name, spilling his sticky release all over himself, coating his fingers.
He looks entirely too proud of himself as you make a disgusted face and jerk away from him, and you know he can smell your arousal because of this little show he's put on for you, so you don't dignify him with any more yelling and simply send him to the bathroom to shower, giving you some much-needed time to calm yourself down before facing him again. And most importantly to change into a new, dry pair of underwear.
While you hear the shower running in the bathroom, you silently seethe to yourself as you try to think of a punishment that is not too strict for your liking but will also teach Johnny a lesson he desperately needs without you playing into this little game of his as well.
So for tonight, you simply settle on lying down on the couch together with Simon, guiding him to snuggle up close to you as a rerun of an old sitcom lights up your TV screen, its laugh track ringing out faintly in the background. The shower eventually turns off again and Johnny emerges from the bathroom in nothing but a pair of shorts not soon after, a fat grin plastered on his face as he saunters over to you and Simon. You spare him only a quick and deeply unamused glance before turning your attention back to the TV, telling him to not even think about joining you and Simon on the couch, not after this little stunt he just pulled. Johnny's grin only widens, not believing you're being serious for one second, but the look you give him when he tries to climb onto the couch with you and his companion makes him hesitate at last.
Huffing in indignation, Johnny sinks to the floor and curls up by your feet on the carpet, deep sighs escaping him from time to time while he looks up to you with the best puppy dog eyes he can muster. But you simply ignore his dramatics for the entire evening, never letting your attention stray away from the TV and Simon, gently running your fingers through the hybrid's short hair and cooing softly at him as you scratch behind his ears, turning him to putty in your hands with your gentle ministrations.
But you know Johnny needs a more decisive lesson than this or he's never learning to behave himself.
Some days later, you've come up with exactly that—a suitable punishment for Johnny's past transgressions that at the same time serves as a reward for Simon who has never let his companion's bad behavior rub off on him, always listening to you and behaving himself admirably.
That afternoon, you send Johnny on a little errand all on his own, ignoring his grumbling and whining as he makes his way to the front door of your house, looking back to see if you're paying him any attention at all, only to realize you're focused entirely on his companion, smiling up at Simon adoringly.
When the front door falls shut with much more force than necessary, you take Simon's hand and lead him to your bedroom, the large hybrid following you dutifully, his tail wagging behind him in subdued excitement.
"Let me take care of you today, Simon," you tell him sweetly as you guide him to lie down on your bed, wasting no time to follow after him and straddle his thighs, watching in fond amusement how quickly his pupils dilate and how hard he fights for his restraint not to touch you before you allow him to, his thick fingers twitching restlessly by his sides.
"What about Johnny?" he asks, already breathless, his eyes half-lidded from nothing more than your warm weight on top of him. You coo at him, marveling at how sweet and considerate he is, that even now he's thinking of his companion, one hand coming up to cup his strong jaw.
"Well, Johnny needs to learn a lesson, that only good boys get rewarded," you explain patiently, your thumb caressing his cheek, trailing over the prominent scar there, "And he hasn't been very good lately, has he? But you've been such a good boy, Simon, and you deserve a reward for that, don't you think?"
Simon nods almost mindlessly, too focused on you and your pretty face as you start to close the distance between the two of you. His fair lashes flutter shut when he feels your lips brush softly against his for the very first time, a teasing almost-kiss that has a whine rise up in his chest immediately, but he doesn't dare to just press closer to you or ask for more, simply taking whatever you graciously decide to give him.
His obedience is rewarded when you kiss him in earnest only a few torturous seconds later, tilting his head back as you slide your tongue between his parted lips, Simon all but panting into your mouth, hips bucking up involuntarily, causing his hard length to press against your center oh-so deliciously.
You chuckle breathlessly against his mouth at the feeling, reveling in the broken whine you elicit from him when you press close to him again, deliberately dragging your core over his erection while you marvel at his self-restraint, his scarred hands gripping your sheets in a white-knuckled grasp because you haven't yet told him otherwise.
"Touch me, Simon," you order him as your lips begin to trail down his neck, and he wastes no time following your generous command, desperately pawing at every part of your body he can reach.
When Johnny returns home some twenty minutes later, a bag full of groceries hanging from his arm while he unlocks your front door with the other hand, his mood is at an all-time low, the fluffy dog ears on top of his head pulled back, letting the whole world know exactly how he's feeling about your recent dismissive behavior towards him.
He closes the door with too much force than necessary and toes off his shoes, only to freeze mid-movement when his ears perk up incredulously, picking up a sound from somewhere within the house that makes his blood freeze in his veins—and then boil.
Simon's whines and moans echo off your bedroom walls in unmistakable pleasure and desperation, noises normally only Johnny gets to draw from his companion, noises he made sure you won't be able to ignore once you've taken them in.
When your sweet moans start to mix with Simon's sinful noises, Johnny's self-control snaps almost violently, his ears pinning back against his head while he bares his teeth for no one to see. He drops the groceries right where he stands and stomps over to your room, the sounds only growing louder and louder the closer he gets, the combined scent of Simon's and your arousal heady even in the hallway outside your bedroom, making his mouth water.
Without thinking, Johnny throws open your door, all but barging into your room, and the scene he gets treated to then almost makes him come from sight alone.
Simon is sprawled out on your bed in all his naked glory, his sweaty chest glistening in the low light of your bedroom, pathetically whining and moaning underneath you and looking completely out of it already—just like when Johnny is mercilessly pounding into him in their own room, putting on a show for you night after night. Simon's big hands are holding onto your hips desperately, no doubt leaving your flesh tender and bruised in the morning, while you bounce on his hard cock, your head thrown back with your eyes closed as your own hands travel up your body teasingly to squeeze your tits, rolling your erect nipple between your fingers and moaning shamelessly when a shock of pure pleasure zips down your spine.
Without slowing your pace, without even turning your head or opening your eyes, you suddenly speak up, addressing Johnny who never wants to hear his name leaving your lips ever again not formed around a shaky little moan, even though your words make him feel like crying.
"You stay exactly where you are, Johnny," you tell him sternly, your voice breathless but leaving no room for arguments, "and don't even think about touching yourself."
Johnny only whimpers at your words, as if following your command physically pains him, but miraculously he listens to you without complaint and drops down to his knees where he stands, right on the threshold of your bedroom. His hands grip onto his thighs in order to obey your bidding even when his dick twitches pathetically in his underwear, so hard it hurts, as he can't do anything else but to listen to the wet sounds of skin slapping against skin, of your unrestrained moans and Simon's desperate groans. To watch you and Simon together from the sidelines, watch how your pretty hole stretches around Simon's girth and swallows him over and over again, watch the creamy white ring of your shared arousal gather at his partner's base where his knot is already forming, watch your rhythm begin to falter and Simon's abdomen pull taut.
Simon bucks up into you with one last harsh thrust as he tumbles over the edge with a growl, forcing you to take his knot, the sensation unlike anything you've ever experienced before, and it rips your orgasm out of you almost violently.
You choke on a cry of Simon's name as stars explode behind your eyes and blind you, your ears ringing faintly, and you're only dimly aware of the delicious sting of his knot settling into you fully, your pussy desperately pulsing around it as he spills his release deep inside you, making you take everything he's giving you and not letting you spill even a single drop.
Simon catches you as you all but collapse onto his chest, strong arms coming around you immediately and holding you close as both of you ride out the last waves of your shared orgasm. You feel like you're underwater, everything is hazy and muted and just a little farther away than it normally is, and you bask in the sensation just a little longer, humming contentedly as Simon is the one to run his fingers through your hair for once.
As your awareness sharpens again, you realize Simon's knot is still firmly lodged inside of you, splitting you open and tethering you to him, and you let out a tiny gasp at the feeling before you can stop yourself, at how full you are, the sensation just deliciously toying with the edge of being painful and overwhelming.
And you know you could very well become addicted to it.
The moment is interrupted by a heartbreaking whimper from Johnny somewhere behind you, but you ignore him in favor of pressing gentle kisses along Simon's jaw and neck, quietly checking in with him. It takes only a few more minutes after Simon assured you he's okay, more than okay really, that you feel his knot slowly recede inside of you, allowing you to carefully untangle yourself from the hybrid but leaving you emptier than you've ever felt before.
But you push your discomfort aside and instead turn your attention back to where Johnny still kneels in the threshold of your bedroom, looking—for lack of a better description—like a kicked puppy. A puppy that is horny enough to pass out by the looks of it, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession while his entire face is flushed and his pupils blown wide enough to appear completely black.
Admittedly, you're a little surprised he actually listened to you when you told him to stay, so you gently move off of Simon and to the edge of your bed, your legs feeling embarrassingly unsteady, Johnny's pleading eyes following your every movement. Once you've gotten comfortable there, you beckon the hybrid closer to you and he crawls towards you without hesitation.
You smile down at him as you wordlessly open your legs for him and let him settle between them, one hand trailing down your chest and stomach teasingly before spreading your sticky folds for him, your pussy a mess of your arousal mixing with Simon's thick seed beginning to drip from your pretty hole.
Your other hand reaches for Johnny, who seems nothing short of mesmerized by the sight in front of him, gently settling at the back of his head and urging him closer to your center, the hybrid letting himself be willingly guided by you.
"Show me what a good boy you can be and help me clean up, Johnny, alright?" you all but purr, biting back a laugh when he nods eagerly without his eyes ever leaving this debauched display in front of him, his tail beginning to wag behind him.
You sigh and recline back on one elbow as Johnny's smart tongue first presses against your still sensitive pussy while your other hand threads through his mohawk to keep him close, the hybrid not hesitating to lick a broad stripe from your weeping hole to your clit, greedily lapping up your arousal and Simon's spend.
That night, just before falling asleep between the two hybrids, absolutely spent and satisfied, your body feeling pleasantly exhausted and heavy while the fresh bite marks on your thighs sting deliciously, you must admit to yourself that Johnny and Simon are your first foster fails, because you'll never give them away again for anything in the world. Even though Johnny will without a doubt continue to test your patience now and again, but you're sure that with Simon's help, you'll teach him that only good boys get their treats after all.