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uglygirltrying · 3 months ago

Note

May i request Soap and Reader dry humping eachother when LT ghost walks in??🥺🥺

[yes i saw the post and ITS A NEED, only if u wanna ofc <3]

Yes ofc! :))

I'll make an assumption and just continue from that thought :P umm i didn't want to give the reader a callsign im sorry if that makes this bad😭🙏

ghost didn't sleep well most nights. most nights were made of pacing around, or zoning out by the common room's television. and that was his plan that night as well.

he thought that it would be peaceful like any other night, and maybe even more so, if his two sergeants had got worn out from their ride.

but as he made his way down the hallway from his room, and got closer to the common room, strange noises hit his ear.

now, with hesitance, but also curiosity, ghost slowly walked to the end of the hallway.

and he certainly wasn't expecting the scene in the common room.

his two sergeants. his two soldiers, rutting against each other, on the common room's couch. the lieutenant had to hold back a chuckle at the sight, the pair were going at it like desperate animals.

unsurprisingly, soap was making noise like a whiny puppy. not like his pretty sergeant wasn't whimpering at the feeling as well. the dirty mutt soap, was ruining his pretty sergeant. making her pussy wet, without enough effort to make her cum.

ghost couldn't quite see, but he could bet there was soaking wet spots on their uniforms.

soap was moving carelessly, thinking with his cock, and only for his cock. his dog brain couldn't process what a pretty thing he was rutting against. what a pretty cunt, that deserved to have her fill as well.

the scotsman was only getting louder, and closer to his release. ghost felt his cock throb in his sweatpants. god, was he hard. but he couldn't just watch from the side, as his pretty soldier was getting neglected.

soap should be thankful. he should be on his knees, begging to get a taste of their pretty girls pussy.

but no. the mutt didn't have any manners. he needed to be put in his place.

neither of the dummies noticed when he walked closer, too distracted for their own good.

ghost's big, calloused hand quickly reached out, and grabbed onto the scotsman's sweaty mohawk, yanking his head up to look at him. soap immediately stilled, a confused and spooked.

"l-lt... hey..." soap nervously chuckled, still panting.

ghost glared down at soap, his cold eyes focused on his. ghost kept a tight grip on his hair, and looked down at his pretty sergeant, laying beneath soap. she looked just as frightened as soap, scared of being in trouble.

"selfish, ain't he?" it was more of a statement, than a question. soap pouted at his lieutenants words.

ghost smirked, as his pretty soldier shyly nodded her head. his free hand reached down, and brushed strands of her hair off her forehead.

ghost just looked down at her for a moment, before turning back to soap. he yanked on soap's hair again.

"get off of her, sergeant." ghost murmured deeply.

soap scrambled to back away from in between her legs. there was a obvious bulge on his cargo pants, with a wet spot forming on top.

ghost meanly chuckled at his submission. the lieutenant turned his head down again, looking down at his pretty sergeant. his hand traveled down, cupping her crotch. it was warm, a little moist too. most of it probably from soap.

his pretty soldier whimpered at the touch, shyly curling up.

"bet yer wearing something pretty underneath..." ghost murmured into her ear, his hot breath hitting her skin.

ghost turned to glare at soap. "and he didn't even think to take a look..." he continued.

soap was panting at the other end of the coach, his dick hard in his pants, as he tried not to touch himself. his lieutenant had caught them. he had caught his sergeants, rutting against each other like animals in heat.

and he didn't yell. he didnt file for transfers. he didn't punish them... well, this probably was soaps punishments, to watch from the side, while their lieutenant touched the precious girl's pussy.

ghost opened his pretty sergeant's pants, and pulled them down her thighs. underneath, she was wearing pretty, white panties. ghost chuckled at the sight. a wet patch on the panties, making them transparent, and revealing her sweet pussy. nice puffy lips, and a little bush above her hard nub.

ghost looked up at soap again. "take off 'er trousers, sergeant." he commanded him.

soap scrambled to pull down the other sergeants pants, as his commanding officer stared down at him. once her pants were thrown to the side, soap was face to face with her white panties. before he even knew it, ghost's hand had pushed his head down, his face down against her clothed pussy.

their pretty sergeant squealed at the sudden feeling of soap's nose pressing on her clit, with his hot breath hit her fluttering hole.

"lick it, mutt." ghost's commanded in his deep voice.

the scotsman's tongue immediately got to work, licking up and down the panty covered pussy, the wet patch only getting bigger with soap's saliva. he didn't care if he couldn't breathe properly, he'd gladly die just there.

ghost had to hold down their whimpering soldier, as she squirmed around. her chest moved with her heavy breathes, her legs twitching at the feeling of a hot tongue on her pussy.

"l-lieutenant..." she whimpered. ghost reached down and brushed her cheek with his thumb.

"good girl. ya wanna cum?" ghost asked, an amused smirk behind his mask. she nodded franticly and desperately, making ghost chuckle. soap must've been listening, his tongue moving faster on her. her pretty, white panties have long gone transparent from his dirty spit.

the lieutenants dark eyes averted for just a moment, only to see his sergeant humping the coach underneath him. what a dog.

both of them were near again. only this time, ghost was here. somebody to make sure, that both of them were taken care of. his own dick was hard as fuck too. he almost couldn't wait to go back to his room, and rub the hell out his cock.

but in this moment, he needed to only focus on them. they were too stupid for their own good. they were lucky it was him who caught them. this could've gone so much worse. they were lucky he was even letting them cum.

ghost snapped out of his thoughts, as his sergeants only got louder. they needed to be over with this quickly, it was only the matter of time, until somebody else walked into the common room.

ghost pushed soap's head down again, his big nose hitting her hard clit. that did it for her, making her cum. arching her back, whimpering, and shaking. soap wasn't far behind. his hips stilled, as he came in his pants. soap lifted his head, his face moist with the mix of her juices and his saliva. their pretty sergeant laid there, twitching and breathing heavily, almost limp.

soap sat up, the front of his cargos, soaked with his cum. ghost chuckled at the sight.

"how's the adrenaline rush now?"

idk i dont have the smut talent that these kind of writings need😭

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novemberheart · 4 months ago

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{overview} you reach a new milestone with Johnny and Simon, you have a bad dream

{warnings} fem reader, poly 141, mentions of death, panic attacks, mentions of bruising and pain, cursing, p in v sex (not related to the violence warnings), exhibition, you like being watched I guess….

Chapter 25 <- Chapter 26 -> Chapter 27

“Push your knee against me like that. It's easier to grab a foot or a hand than a knee,” Johnny explained, moving your knee towards his shoulder. He had some downtime and you had the energy to burn so he settled on teaching you a few self-defense moves.

“I don't think these are actually moves,” you panted. You had just spent the better part of twenty minutes being thrown around like a ragdoll. When you agreed to this you assumed it would lead to more with Johnny- much more. Yet here he was, his eyes laser-focused, using a tone that could rival Simons.

“People aren't going to expect you to know how to fight back. So you are going to have around five seconds of surprise- even more if they aren't trained,” Johnny moved you onto your stomach, gripping your arms with his hands so they were pressed against the mat. You peeked in the mirror along the gym wall, your hips raising slightly at the sight of him hovering over you.

Who knew you liked mirrors so much?

You had been wearing scent blockers, your hips raising being the only sign thus far of how this was making you feel. His mouth fell open, his eyes landing on your bottom that your gym shorts really didn't hide. You smirked, using all your body weight to swing your legs to the side, effectively knocking him over with a thud. Just like he had taught you. You scrambled up running to the edge of the mat. He had drilled into your head to run as soon as you could and even made you practice getting up in any position- which felt silly at the time but made sense now. He chuckled, the vibrations of it going straight to your core even though your distance. You smiled, prancing back over to him.

“That was very good,” he praised, his eyes lighting up to match yours.

“Thank you, Sergeant,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. He purred under your touch. He was still kneeling before you, his arms wrapping under your bottom. He hoisted you up easily, and you craned your neck down with your teeth grazing over his bottom lip. He bit back. He slid your body against his, so you didn't have to bend so far, your legs wrapping around his waist. Your lips ghosted over each other, waiting for the other to give in. A standoff. Your fingers played with the grown-out pieces of his mohawk, a small whine leaving your throat as you flashed him with your softest puppy dog eyes. He growled, smashing his lips against yours.

“I won,” you gasped between attacks.

“Did you?” he smirked, his lips quickly devouring you again.

“Bloody hell, you two. Get a room,” Simon growled. The task force had the gym booked, even with half of it missing. “Anyone could walk by and see you,” he reprimanded. Which was funny given the position the two of you were in last night.

“Yeah, any perv,” Johnny agreed, eyeing the alpha up and down. You giggled, pressing kisses against the Scot's jaw, nipping at the corner of his lips. He let you do as you please, his hazy, melted eyes staring down at you. Simon stood still, not quite able to pull his eyes away from the sight himself. He watched the way Johnny’s chest heaved up and down, his lips parting open as you marked him up. The look of determination on your face and the way your lips moved against his heated skin. The fact he had felt the softness of your mouth yesterday, he could imagine you against his skin. He watched as Johnny’s hands gripped your thighs, the softness pooling around his fingers. One small movement from you would have you secured against the heavy bulge the fabric of his workout shorts was doing a poor job covering.

“Johnny?” Simon spoke. His half-lidded deep blue eyes met his. “Take care of your omega,” it was commanded. The life re-entered Johnny's eyes, your back colliding with the wall before you knew it. You gasped, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. All the control you had flying out the window.

“Mac,” you whined, your hips rolling against him. He pressed back harder, a shaky moan leaving you, the vibration going straight down his spine. Your hands crept down his strong stomach, clawing at the waistband of his shorts.

“Can’t take you here, Bonnie,” he growled, making you whimper.

“I don't care,” you purred in assurance. The new position had you blocked by a shelf and all someone had to do was look at Simon's heavy figure and know not to enter. “Please,” you begged, your hands sliding up his shirt. You could feel his warm skin twitch under you, short and soft coils of hair brushing against your palms. Your hands left his skin, beginning to tug at your own shorts. He looked over his shoulder at Simon, who nodded his head. You watched as Simon disappeared, walking over to the door. You could hear the lock click. You had won. You attached your lips to his and Johnny set you down to slide your shorts and panties off, chuckling at the wet spot in them. He tossed the pair behind him, Simon's hand catching them and sticking them in his pocket. You chewed your lip, Simon's hazy eyes meeting yours. You were dragged away when Johnny lifted you up again, your core rolling against his cock through the fabric of his shorts.

Your mouth fell open, your head resting against the chill of the wall. “Johnny, please,” you whined again, your fingers gripping at his shoulders. He was enjoying this too much. Enjoying the way you squirmed and begged for some help.

“What, baby? Couldn't hear you?” he murmured, making you growl. His hand slapped against your thigh to check you, his hand pressing against the spot to help ease the sting. “Still couldn't hear you,” he corrected. “Don't be shy,” he soothed, his lips resting against your cheek, nipping at the burning flesh. “Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it. You have to ask nicely though,” you wanted to bite the smirk off his face, but you knew you'd never get what you wanted then.

“I want you,” you mumbled quietly, your eyes trained on Simon’s shoes.

“Alright,” Johnny seemed satisfied with that until he started to put your feet on the floor to kiss down to your heat.

“No,” you whined, pulling him back up. He hoisted you back up, his face showing all the patience in the world. He could play this game with you all day. “I want your cock,” you said finally, making sure to say it loud enough to where he wouldn't play dumb. The deep rumble echoed off of both men, shooting straight through you. “Please,” you finished. You had a reputation for being their good girl- you couldn't break that by demanding.

“Well how can I say no to that,” Johnny smiled down at you. He distracted you with his lips and it wasn't until the head of his cock caught against your entrance did you realize one of his hands had left you. You gasped, pulling away enough to look down at him. It matched him, stout and energetic- twitching in his hand. He pushed in slowly, your legs already quivering. He was so responsive. Curving into all the right places, throbbing in time with your spasming walls. It felt so intimate even though you were pushed against the hard gym wall. Your toes curled in your shoes. He wanted to say something. Say how good you felt, how beautiful you looked, yet all he could do was groan his hips snapping into place. Your moan caught in your throat, your head lulling against the wall.

“How’s she feel?” Simon grunted. You had forgotten about him as he leaned against the shelf. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him but just knowing he was there made you clench around Johnny, the words he was trying to say catching in his throat once again.

He settled for a purr, sending a vibration through your body. You twitched, your hips pressing harder against him. That’s how John must've felt when you purred around him. “Perfect,” Johnny finally managed to choke out. His mouth attached to your shoulder where your tank top strap had fallen. His thrusts were hard and slow, without a set rhythm but that somehow added to the pleasure. His cock would drag against your walls only for him to roll himself back in with one hard fluid motion. He'd hold himself inside you letting you feel every throb and vein, only to drag himself back out, repeating the process whenever he wanted.

You were a mess. Teary eyes, hair disheveled, clinging onto him as the force of his thrusts knocked you into the wall. Your hand pressed against your mouth to stifle your moans. Normally they hated that, but considering you were in a semi-public place they'd let it slide. His pace picked up, your arms gripping around his neck, his mouth pressing against any skin he could reach. It was almost torture. The two of being so close, yet he couldn't feel the softness of your skin against his. He growled, his hips deciding a set rhythm. He had played with his food enough.

“I can't,” you gasped, your face burying in his shoulder. Your hands gripping onto his shoulder blades.

“Doing so good, Bon,” Johnny assured through his own groans. You could tell Johnny was as vocal as you, and was also trying hard to stifle it. You wondered how loud he could get. A pair of fingers brushed over your knuckles. It was Simon. You reached forward your hand tangling with his, as you felt the ascension of a familiar peak. You whined Johnny’s name, pressing your heated cheek against his. “You’re almost there, beautiful. I can feel it,” he snarled against you. “Feels so fucking good,” his voice dropped to a whine, holding onto you equally hard. Simon raised his mask, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. You held his gaze as much as you could with the stars clouding your vision. You shook your head again. Your heat had made your orgasms more tolerable- less intense so your body could preserve its stamina. You didn't have that to fall back upon. “Relax,” Johnny repeated against your temple, your cunt nearly pushing him out. “We’ve got you, just let go,” he murmured, his muscles shaking from pleasure. “I’ve got you baby, come on,” he pressed, not being able to hold on much longer himself.

You felt too good. Your pussy shaking around him, so wet and and warm. Your breathy moans in his ear. The fact anyone could come in and find you like this. It didn't excite him in the way he thought it would. It made him more possessive. You were theirs. No one else deserved to see such a sight. He could sense Simon behind him, the alpha offering enough protection where he could turn his brain off and focus on you.

The knot in your stomach finally shattered, your vision lighting up behind your shut eyes. You shouted, but nobody could find it in them to care, not with your head thrown back like that. Johnny pressed himself impossibly deep, holding your shaking form so you wouldn't be separated from him. He was a ball of curses and groans, his grip on you sure to leave bruises.

He rested against you, you sandwiched between him and the wall. Both of you were panting- mixing with moans and whimpers. Everything felt too much. The aftershock in your veins, the bright lights, the hard wall. You wanted to curl up under the covers and breathe in Johnny’s cinnamon scent. Simon cleared his throat, his pupils blown as he scanned you and Johnny up and down.

“Come on, pups,” he spoke softly. You smiled at the plural version of your nickname. Simon grabbed your shorts off the floor, his hands resting on Johnny’s shoulders. “Let's get you two cleaned up and back home, yeah?” he hummed. Your eyes widened as Simon placed a kiss on the back of Johnny's neck, mumbling out small praises at how well he took care of you. You both squirmed as he pulled out of you, his spend immediately dripping down your leg. The two men groaned.

“Round two at home, bonnie?” Johnny smirked, kissing your burning cheek.

Round two indeed took place at home. Your butt resting on the counter in your bathroom as Johnny worked himself in and out of you. Simon was too busy with his ear pressed against the door, his hand working in time with your moans.

It felt like hours before the shower finally turned on.

You giggled as Johnny massaged lotion into your feet, his lips pressing against the ball of your foot.

“You and John both have a thing for feet,” you teased, expecting him to jump into denial. He just smiled, his thumb working deep into the tense tissue.

“Maybe we do, Bon,” he said slowly. “At least you get foot massages out of it,” he smirked, pressing a kiss against the top of them.

Guess you didn't have room to complain.

“Whose room are we sleeping in?” he questioned, moving to stand from his seat on the coffee table. You were about to say Kyle's but the back of your neck tingled at the sight of Simon’s closed door. Johnny followed your gaze. His face spread in a grin that made you nervous.

“No, Johnny it’s fine,” you insisted. His arm wrapped under your bottom, lifting you to his chest. He held you against him, your head hiding in his shoulder as he knocked on Simon's door. You heard a muffled sound, Johnny not waiting for a clear answer as he opened the door.

“Pup wants to sleep in here,” Johnny sighed like he was doing you a favor.

“It’s okay Simon”-

“You have your jellyfish?” was his response. Johnny gasped in remembrance, tossing you onto Simon's bed. It was amazing you didn't accidentally elbow him in the face with how much of it he took up. Johnny disappeared, heading towards your room to get the stuffed jelly. You had forgotten it when you went on leave and had a harder time falling asleep without it. You had grown a bit codependent on its softness against your cheek to fall asleep.

Johnny came bounding back, tossing himself onto the bed.

“Always forget how shite your mattress is,” Johnny grumbled. He tucked both of you under the covers with Simon, his body curling around yours as the big spoon. Simon shifted and you heard the rattling of a pill bottle.

“Take some of these. You'll be sore later if you aren't already,” he sighed, his thumb brushing over your chin. You opened, his eyes trained on your kiss-bitten lips. He held his water bottle up for you to wash them down with. Simon popped a few in his mouth.

“Did you hurt yourself?” you questioned. He shook his head.

“He’s a big boy, bonbon. Aches and pains are his middle name,” Johnny smirked, his lips pressing on the back of your ear. You giggled as his scruff brushed against your neck. Simon relaxed back into the bed, his arm and shoulder pressed against your front. You wanted to rest your head against him, but didn't want to invade his space too much- although you felt like you had already passed that point.

You could feel yourself fading fast. If the three different orgasms pulled out of you weren't enough then the feeling of being the safest pup in the world was the cherry on top. The best sleep you had ever gotten had been that night you were curled up with John and Kyle. You wondered if this would be similar. You didn't know if it was the beta-alpha pairing that made it work so well or just the fact you trusted the both of them.

You rumbled in a quiet purr, Johnny immediately responding with his own.

It was pouring. The onslaught makes it hard for you to keep your eyes open. Your chest hurts, and the cold water, despite its power, does nothing to get your nervous system back on track.

You felt sad. The sadness felt more suffocating than the rain that was drenching your clothes. Why hadn’t you worn your raincoat? You feel like you knew the answer to that, yet couldn't find the perseverance to dig around in your brain for it.

Maybe the yellow felt too happy for this type of day.

A hand gripped your shoulder. It wasn't gentle. It wasn’t warm or comforting. It was angry- maybe at you, maybe at the world. “Time to go,” it snapped. You recognized it as John. It made you feel sicker, a bubbling anger rising in your chest. Why were you so mad at him? Why was he so mad? He looked worse than when he had left. His eyes are nearly swollen shut from tears and rubbing at them. His face looked older. How long had he been gone? Or had emotions aged him? His hand fell to your forearm, the tips of his finger bound to leave marks against your skin.

Your feet splashed against the ground as he tugged you along. The rushing water makes it hard to walk. How long has it been raining? Every step forward felt like three steps back. If it wasn't for John you would have fallen, and the water would have swept you away by now. A slight warmness fills you at the idea.

“I don't want to go,” you say before you can stop yourself. Your voice is small and weak. He hears you despite the rushing of water.

“You think I want to?” he growls back. It was mean and nasty- his voice and look in his eyes. You whimpered. You’re continually pulled along the flat concrete. There are no trees, no green, just gray as far as the eye can see. Your knees give out, and you can feel the concrete break your skin. A small plea leaves you. A plea of mercy for John to be gentle with you. He wasn't. He growls low in his throat, yanking you up with no patience or fondness in his bones. You shriek, your arm creaking under his grasp. He pays no mind. There's a building in the distance. Gray and square just like the buildings at base. You’re sobbing now. You aren't sure if it’s from fright or exhaustion. His hand digs into the hair around the base of your neck, pulling you forward. You were moving too slow. Your sobs are louder than the rain by the time you reach the building. John throws open the doors. The inside was beautiful, resembling a church. Every seat was filled, each and every person's head snapping behind them to look at the two of you. You don't know any of them, but they all look familiar.

They were waiting for you. John pulls you along the aisle, your eyes landing towards the front. You fall to your knees again, your hands grappling with the legs of people or chairs to keep from advancing. John is jerking you forward by the back of your dress, your body shaking against the carpet. Shrieks and sobs escape you, yet no one comes to help you. In fact, they aren't even looking at you. Once you make it to the front John tosses you against the steps of the stage, your chin colliding with one. You sob against them. You couldn’t breathe. Your heart ached so painfully in your chest all you could do was lay there. There was a mean kick to your legs. Your head finally raised, your eyes landing on an oak casket, half covered by a Union Jack. Your hands reach forward gripping onto the fabric. It pools around you as it falls to the floor.

You don't need to be told. You know who’s in there.

You gasp awake, four pairs of hands holding onto you. You shake in their grasp and they quickly release you.

“Easy, Bonnie,” Johnny soothes. You couldn't breathe, the lightness in the room burning your eyes. Your hands run over your wet face as you sit up trying to take in your surroundings as your eyes adjust. An arm wraps around you, trapping your arms and back against a chest. You fight against it and lose.

“Relax, pup. You're alright,” it was Simon, his chin resting on your shoulder. The smell of alpha fills your nostrils, your brain immediately gives into it- too distraught to do anything else. They both sigh in relief when you relax against him.

“Where is Kyle?” you croak. They share a look.

“He left with John, baby,” Johnny reminded, pulling your legs into his lap.

“Is he okay?” you whimper, tears beginning to descend again.

“Something happen to him in your dream?” Johnny asked.

“Is he okay?” you repeat desperately.

“He’s alright,” Simon affirms to you. The pressure slows your heart rate, and your breathing automatically syncs with his. “I can try to get him on the phone for you. It'll be early morning where they are,” Simon explains, reaching for his phone on the nightstand.

You would do anything to hear his voice. Even if it meant waking him up. Simon lays down with you still in his arms, and Johnny goes to turn the light off. You were thankful Simon had given you those pain pills. Without them, the throb in your body would be worse.

Your cheek rests against Johnny’s, his scruff a welcoming contrast to your soft skin. His large hand takes up half your face and neck as his thumb brushes the tears out from under your eyes. You let yourself sink fully into both of them.

“I'm sorry,” you mumbled softly.

“Never apologize for loving us, Bon,” Johnny soothed instantly. Your heart lifted in your chest.

You couldn't help but feel fortunate. Your pack wasn't writing you off as sensitive or troublesome. Instead, they were protecting you. Assuring you. Protecting you from your own thoughts and assuring you they would be there with you along the way. Simon held the phone up and you quickly snatched it with a quick thanks.

“Kyky?” you breathed, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the sound of his groggy voice. You had woken him up.

“Hey, Lovie,” you could nearly see the smile in his voice. He wasn't mad at you. You buried yourself under Johnny, the phone pressed tightly against your ear. “Having trouble sleeping?” he murmured. You tried to imagine his breath on the back of your neck as he spoke or the way his hand liked to rest between your thighs as he slept.

“Yeah,” you whispered back. “I had a bad dream. Just wanted to hear your voice,” you explained.

“Guess I should get talkin’ then,” he yawned. You were thankful he didn't ask what the dream was about. You could hear him adjust, the sound of metal creaking under him. You hated that his bed wasn't comfortable. He shouldn't be sleeping on metal bars and springs, he should be curled up in your nest with you. He talked about where he was- without giving you a location. He said it was mountainous and the perfect temperature. You knew for Kyle that meant hot. He told you about all the different birds and the sounds they made and how it made him think of you.

Your eyes grew heavy, your body erupting in a barely there purr.

Warmness flooded you as your pack once again took care of you.

Hello everyone! See you in three days for chapter 27! 🧡

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webkinztournament · 1 year ago

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#Lil Purple Chipmunk #Mohawk Puppy #tournament poll #poll #POP2023 #POP2023R1

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devil-in-hiding · 4 months ago

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puppy play but it’s johnny whining at your feet after simon fucked him open on his cock, johnnys drool and cum dribbled across the hardwood floors where a pouting simon sits, defiant.

“Clean it up. Now.”

He just cocks his head, staring at you with big brown eyes, but you see the mirth dancing in them.

“Either clean up your mess or you’re going in the cage Simon. You already were to rough with Johnny, wasn’t he sweet boy?” You coo, running your fingers through his mohawk, comforting as he whimpers, pressing his face deeper into your stomach.

Simon crawls over, eyes locked on the trickle of his cum dripping from johnny’s winking hole, but you push him away with your foot, scowling.

“Nu uh. Only good dogs get rewards. That,” You point at the puddle of cum next to his knee, “Is your treat.”

#ghoap #ghoap x reader #simon riley x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #cod smut #ghoap smut

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plushie-lovey · 7 months ago

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I shouldn't really be ordering anything buuut I had to get this adorable friend

They just arrived in the mail! They were only about $20 before fees, which was an amazing price given Green Earth Puppies usually cost anywhere from $60-100.

But now that they're here I can understand why. They're a bit dirty, especially on one foot, and their fur feels a little worn. They were definitely a loved friend. And now they'll be loved in their new home! But first, a bath :D

Also I really need help with name suggestions!!

#idk if I wanna make them male female enby or what #I was originally thinking female or enby but idk I also get male vibes #please help #stuffed animals #plushies #plushblr #webkinz #webkinz puppy #webkinz green earth puppy #webkinz earth puppy #viti's plushies #I think this is the first plushie I've bought off of ebay that wasn't in near perfect condition #which is all well and good by me. I've thrifted plush dirtier than this #Soup being one of them #so this is nothing #stillI think thats a pretty great track record!#also I had a feeling this webkinz had been loved on. the pic showed the fur with some texture vs gloss #it just looked a bit worn. but I don't mind at all #Im just happy to have an earth puppy at last!#the next webkinz puppies I want are the peace puppy the mohawk puppy and the patchy puppy in that order

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lundenloves · 1 year ago

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SIMON TAKING HIS DAUGHTER TO BASE

{✧} dad!simon once again, no one faint i don’t have insurance coverage. soap may be able to fireman lift you home.

{✧} i just wanted to write something with his work and daughters combined and thought, hmm the idea of war, blood and death doesn’t quite match up to a five year old. therefore, this was born. if you don’t fw it don’t tell me, i’ll nosedive into a pit of lava without hesitation. happy reading, kids.

taglist | masterlist | dad!simon masterlist | request info

↳ no warnings | 1.3k | dad!simon

“Right,” Simon crouched down to his daughter's level, taking her small hands in his. “You stay with dad, yeah?” His finger tapped the side of her nose, the two of them stood by his jeep outside of the base. This was not allowed. He knew that.

But — today was dedicated to paperwork in his office, that was the sole purpose of coming in on his time off. The only issue being, it was a day off for someone else too. His kid. “Can you do that for me?” Thumb smoothing across her cheek, standing back up upon her nod.

“What are we even doing?” She took his extended hand and swung her arms, watching as he swiped a pass through a reader and pressed down on the bar of the door to open it. “How long will we be?”

“It shouldn’t take long, lovie.” He looked down at his little girl. “Just stay with me. Don’t let go of my hand.” Her grip tightened and Simon crossed through seemingly endless corridors and rooms to little eyes, each passing soldier giving her father a firm nod followed by an utterance of ‘sir’ in acknowledgement. She found herself looking into every crevice she could find on their voyage, straying from his side a few times to touch things.

“Where’s uncle Soap?” For every two of Simon’s steps, five of her own were taken, little feet switching between hops and skips each time.

“Not a clue.” Simon mumbled more to himself, looking around corners and turning his shoulder with every voice. “He’s here somewhere. ‘M sure he’ll find you first, kid.” She nodded, trailing her finger across the wall until they had reached his office. “Right,” He continued, fumbling in his pocket for a set of keys. “We won’t be long here, alright?”

“A’right.” She said enthusiastically, her own accent mirroring his and following him into the room. Simon hung by the door for a moment, arm above the threshold to hold himself out.

“Johnny.” He shouted after a group of men, his sergeants mohawk a dead give-away. Soap turned around instantly, something between a respectful soldier and a puppy. Ghost nodded back to his office, planting a hand on his daughter’s shoulder when she had stood next to him, on her tiptoes to see over the passing men. She was barely up to Simon’s waist.

“See him?” His hand moved to her back, eyes flitting between her own and Soap who was wrapping up a conversation, her smile growing to a grin when he had crouched down in the now clear corridor — slapping his knees before holding his arms out.

“C’mere you.” His hardy Scottish accent echoing in the bleak narrowness. She ran toward him, shrieking laughter as he tickled her sides, undeniably gathering a fair amount of attention from soldiers in close proximity. “Alright sweetheart?” Johnny picked her up, holding her against his hip and walking back to Simon’s office. “Is she allowed to be here?”

“No.” Simon answered, holding the door wide for him.

“No one’ll say anything anyway.” Johnny let her down. “Ae, missy?”

She shrugged, moving behind Simon’s desk and climbing onto the seat, small hands fidgeting with the pens that were lying around. Ghost placed his hands on his hips. The dark hoodie he wore was usual, minus the bulky tac vest and belt. “You busy?”

“Will be in,” Soap held his arm up, checking his watch. “Fifteen minutes.”

Simon nodded, looking toward his daughter who had found post-it notes, clicking a pen and doodling across multiple of them. “If you see Price, tell him I'll only be twenty. Maximum.” His eyes hadn’t left her, nodding in approval once she had held up her drawing to him. A stickman.

“Will do, Lt.” Soap crossed his arms over his chest and shifted in his stance. “She’s looking more and more like you. Getting big.” He mumbled the last part, shaking his head slowly as if time had passed like he was a pensioner.

“Hm,” Simon grunted in response. “I’ll see you before I leave, yeah?’

“No bother.” Soap saluted the little girl, taking a post-it she had held up toward him. “Is that me?” He pointed toward himself, folding it and slipping the note into the pocket of his tac vest after she had nodded.

“You’re leaving?”

“I have to darlin’.” His thumb caressed her cheek, taking the discarded pen and doodling his own drawing of her. “Whose that?” He smiled, sliding the post-it toward her.

“That’s not me.” She giggled, pushing it back toward him with a grin. “You’re bad at drawing.”

Simon tsked, moving behind his desk and picking her up to sit on his lap. “Eh! That is so you!” Soap’s accent bounced off the walls causing an eruption of laughter from the little girl and Simon turned the computer monitor further toward him. Thick arms huge next to hers that clung onto them to get a better view of the desk.

A short knock sounded through the room and Johnny moved from the door, hands clasped together as Price walked in. His eyes and demeanor instantly softened at the sight. “Kept this one quiet, Simon.” He chuckled, taking short steps forward to pass him some documents stamped with red classified text.

She smiled at Price although shyed into Simon’s neck, “What is this?” He asked, bouncing his knee up and down to subconsciously entertain his daughter.

“Read it later.” He instructed, nodding once at his sergeant. “Johnny, aren’t you on drill today?” Price stood with his legs a good distance apart, thumbs slotted into his pockets to splay fingers wide over his thighs.

“Ten minutes, sir.”

“And Simon, you’re eh— you’re off aren’t you?” Price continued, smiling at his daughter who was staring up at him with small hands clung to her dads neck. “Take it you’re not here for long.”

He shook his head, leaning back in the chair with hands behind his head. “Just ten minutes or somethin’, finishing these off before Monday.”

“Right.” He nodded. “Mind and not stay for long, yeah? You’re scheduled off for a reason.” Soap held the door open for him, watching as he left with a cautious look on both sides of the corridor before stepping out.

Soap leaned out of the door, eyes following the captain until he was out of view, spinning back on his heel to Simon. “Open it.” Came his intrusive thoughts, nodding toward the classified envelope that had been tossed to the side.

“No.”

“Aw c’mon, we’re both 141.” He slid a seat out in front of the desk, “Just open it.” The letter opener was spun across the desk. “Ae?” Face scrunched up in a convincing nod toward Simon’s daughter. Although, she was busy attempting to climb onto the desk, and would’ve had her fathers hand not prevented it with one swoop. “Tell your dad to open the wee letter.”

“Open the wee letter.” She repeated, maneuvering onto her back across his lap and slowly sliding down onto the floor.

Johnny held his hands out in a way that proved his own innocence, as if that saying was her own doing. “The boss has spoken.” He gestured toward the little girl who stood on her tiptoes to look out the small window.

“Haven't you got drills to run?” Simon said bluntly, dotting his pen and blankly staring at Soap.

“Oh shit.” He pushed the chair in haphazardly.

“You’re leaving now?”

Johnny nodded toward the small girl who held her fist out for him to bump his on. A habitual thing learnt by none other than the Scotsman himself, much to Simon’s unreasonable displeasure.

“Shit.” She mumbled to herself.

“Johnny.” Simon scowled.

“Catch ye, Lt!”

i’m clawing the walls for price.

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @dilfdotgov

as always comments are reblogs are greatly appreciated! if no one pats me on the head every now and then i’ll sit in a hole.

↳ requests are open for dad!simon stuff although see the masterlist for more info.

#simon ghost riley #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod mw fanfiction #ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon riley headcanons #ghost headcanons #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #cod mw ghost #ghost #simon riley fanfic #ghost fanfiction #cod fanfic

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soaps-mohawk · 1 month ago

Text

Good Boy

Summary: He’s been such a good puppy. You want nothing more than to reward him on his special day.

Pairing: Johnny x reader

Word Count: 5,527 words

Warnings: Pet play, mommy kink, puppy!Soap, sex toys, breeding kink, dom/sub dynamics, spanking (it’s like one), anal fingering, vaginal fingering, masturbation, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, lingerie,

A/N: This is the first kinktober fic I wrote for this year, but I ultimately decided not to do a version for Kyle. It just fits Johnny perfectly and I’m honestly proud of it. Posted it on Patreon back in early October but decided to post it here for everyone to enjoy

MASTERLIST

You can hear the slight rattle of the kennel before you even have the front door closed. You take your time, kicking off your heels, placing your keys in the drawer, going to the kitchen to put the groceries away. Quiet, pathetic whining reaches your ears, the quiet scuff of movement on the plastic crate pan. He must have bunched his bed up again.

Silly dog.

You flip through the mail casually, tossing junk in the recycling and setting aside what you can only assume is a birthday card from your parents. The whining gets louder and more consistent. You let out a quiet sigh, tempted to open the card now and make him wait, but you'll be a good owner and give him the attention he's so desperate for.

Poor thing has been locked up all day.

Your feet pad quietly towards the living room, dress pants dragging quietly on the wood. You'll have to get these dry cleaned later. The whining gets louder as you approach, the metal exterior of the kennel rattling as he moves around in anticipation.

You round the corner, pausing in the archway separating the living room from the hallway. Your dog, your sweet boy, is kneeling in his kennel, pressed up against the door in excitement. Tufts of hair stick through the top as he waits for you to scratch him through the bars like you always do. You can imagine his tail wagging happily, if he had one.

“Did you miss me?” You ask, not moving towards the kennel.

“Yes, mommy.” He whines, pressing harder against the cage, so hard his skin begins to push out between the gaps in the metal.

You let out a sigh, finally approaching. “Stop it. You'll leave marks on your skin. You know mommy hates that.”

He lets out a whine, but does as he's told, moving away from the side of the cage, but he keeps his head pressed against the top.

“Good boy.” You praise him, bending down to scratch his head through the bars.

His hair is soft between your fingers. He'd had a mohawk when you picked him out and brought him home. You let him keep it, finding it endearing. It gives him character. Fits him perfectly.

“Were you a good boy today?” You ask, pulling your hand away, bending down further, placing your hands on your knees. Your breasts push up, visible thanks to the few buttons you'd undone on your work shirt as you drove home from your after work errands. There's even a sliver of your bra showing. Blue, his favorite color.

His eyes are trained on your breasts, licking his lips. His whole body is wiggling excitedly, his cock swinging between his legs, back and forth almost like a tail might. He's distracted, drool starting to drip out of his mouth just from the sight of your cleavage.

To be fair, you had been denying him all week in preparation for today.

You reach through the top of the cage again, fingers gripping his hair and tugging until his head is forced against the top of the kennel. “Mommy asked you a question.”

He lets out a pathetic whine, thick fingers curling between the thin metal bars at the top of the kennel. “Sorry mommy.” He pouts, giving you puppy eyes as he apologizes. You can't help but soften as those big blue eyes begin to glisten with tears. “I was the best boy today.”

You hum, releasing his hair. You scratch his scalp as you eye the bed pushed against the back of the crate. “You messed your bed up.” His water and snack bowls are empty, shoved to the back of the crate with his bed.

“Too excited.” He whines.

You hum again, standing up straight. His eyes follow you, head shifting against the top of the cage. “Is my little pup excited about today?”

He nods, his fingers flexing on the metal bars. “Yes, mommy.”

“I got you a surprise.” You say, turning to the side table across from his kennel, digging the key from the drawer. “To celebrate.”

“What is it?” He asks, getting excited again.

“Well, that wouldn't make it much of a surprise, would it?” You tease, turning back to the kennel.

He lets out an eager whine, leaning against the front of the cage.

“Do you need to go potty?” You ask, bending down in front of the cage again.

“Please mommy. Real bad.” He begs.

You do feel bad. He has been locked up all day, and you had taken the time to run some errands after work. You've tried letting him have free reign of the house. It lasted a day. You'd come home from work to find him desperately humping your pillow, a pair of dirty panties he'd pulled from your laundry basket pressed against his nose. He'd made quite a mess, and so you had to go back to putting him in the crate every time you left.

“Can you be a big boy and use the bathroom, or do we need to go outside?” You ask.

He whines as he thinks for a moment. “Bathroom, please.”

You hum, putting the key in the padlock that keeps him from opening the cage. It's more to keep him from escaping to romp around the house and make another mess. He wouldn't leave the house, though. He has no reason to. He can get out in the case of an emergency, but he's a good boy. He does as he's told...most of the time.

You open the door to the crate, letting him crawl out. You turn the TV off as he takes a moment to stretch, joints creaking from being shut in the confined space. It's no small crate, the biggest you could find. Still, it doesn't leave him much room for moving around.

You'll have to book him a massage this weekend. Get those muscles loosened up again.

“Come on, pup.” You say, nudging him with your foot in the direction of the downstairs bathroom. “Let's go potty.”

He crawls on all fours towards the bathroom, slow going after being cooped up all day. You don't rush him, walking slowly behind him. The tags on his collar clink with every waddling shuffle on his hands and knees.

He crawls into the bathroom and you turn on the light. He shifts up onto his knees, using the edge of the sink to pull himself onto his feet. You watch him as he stands, joints cracking again. He stretches, arms up over his head, the muscles in his back moving as he does.

Sometimes you forget just how big he is.

It's easy when he's crawling around on all fours to make him small in your mind. It's not until he's standing that you remember just how broad he is.

5'11, roughly 200 pounds. That's what his profile said when you were searching for a new puppy. Your previous one had decided to leave, a mutual agreement. He had only been in training, and decided the lifestyle wasn't for him after all.

You don't mind training pups. It can be quite fun, but you were ready for a more experienced puppy after him.

That's when you came across Johnny. Soap, as his profile had said. A nickname given by a previous owner. You can only imagine what he'd done that earned him that nickname.

His bio was thorough, and he'd even provided the reference of his previous owner. You were intrigued so you had messaged him, and agreed to meet.

You liked him immediately.

Friendly, excitable, already eager to please during your first conversation. You're sure he'd have gotten down on all fours and crawled across the coffee shop if you'd asked him to.

His separation with his last owner had been rather traumatic and he needed someone to take control, someone who could handle him, his neediness, his clinginess, his intense libido and stamina.

It had only taken three meetings and a test run for him to move into your house.

He learned quickly, adapting to your rules very fast. It had been a pleasant surprise, finding such an eager pup in a Scottish bloke who looked more like he should be tossing logs at the Highland Games and not crawling around on your floor with a collar around his neck.

Your last pup had been more of a Greyhound, while Johnny, he’s more of a Rottweiler. Large and intimidating, but sweet and cuddly and so eager to please.

Johnny lets out a sigh as he finally gets to relieve himself after a long day. You stand, leaning in the doorway, watching him as he shakes and then grabs toilet paper to wipe his tip. A proud smile tugs at your lips as he washes his hands thoroughly with soap and hot water.

“Good boy.” You praise him as he drops back onto all fours. You run your fingers through his mohawk, letting the soft strands slip through your fingers. It’s getting long, you’ll have to trim it soon. “Come on, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

He crawls behind you into the kitchen, watching as you move to the bag on the counter. He crawls closer, sitting back on his knees, watching you eagerly. You rip the tags off the toy in your hands, before turning to face him.

“I got you an extra special toy for your birthday.” You hold out the stuffed squirrel to him.

His eyes widen as he stares at it, sitting back fully on his knees as he reaches for it. It’s soft and fluffy and squeaks when you squeeze the middle. You’d spent almost half an hour at the pet store debating which you should get. You’d spent so long there a worker had approached, asking if you needed help and what kind of dog the toy was for.

Great Dane, you’d told her, your go-to answer when buying things for your pup.

She’d recommended the squirrel, and you could hardly say no. It was perfect, and judging by the way Johnny is clutching it to his chest, he thinks so too.

“I also got you a meat stick.” You say, pulling the long beef stick from the grocery bag. “So you can have something to chew on.” You say, pulling off the wrapper.

“Thank you, mommy.” He says, taking the beef stick between his teeth.

You watch him crawl to the corner of the dining room where his bed sits. He makes himself comfortable, stretched out on the soft, plush bed, his new squirrel tucked under his arm as he chews on his meat stick.

You jump into making one of his favorite dinners while he’s occupied. While you’ve never been quite brave enough to try your hand at haggis, Johnny never complains about scotch pies. You turn on some quiet music while you work, eyes flickering to Johnny every so often. He’s content in the corner, making quick work of the meat stick.

You take your time cooking, Johnny lazing with his squirrel in his arms. You stare at his cock as you mix ingredients, more thick than it is long as it drapes between his legs. There’s a heat growing between your own legs as you stare at him. He’s spread out on the bed, legs stretching straight out after being cooped up in the kennel all day. You make a quick note on the calendar. He needs a spa day this weekend. So will you after tonight.

You jump as a hand grips your leg, weight settling against you. Johnny is leaning against your hip, big hand wrapped around your thigh. It’s slowly creeping higher, as if you wouldn’t notice it snaking up your inner thigh.

You tsk at him, shifting out of his hold. “That’s not good boy behavior.”

He lets out a whine, trying to move closer to you. “Sorry mommy. Need you bad.”

“You need your strength, baby boy. You haven’t eaten since breakfast.” You run your hand over his head. You do leave him plenty of snacks to tide him over on days you have to go into the office. It’s always a big dinner night on those days to make up for his lack of lunch.

He lets out a disappointed whine but he knows your right. He’s always a good boy, always so eager to please you and behave. He crawls back to his bed, cock swinging between his legs. Your teeth sink into your lip as you watch him go, rubbing your thighs together as you shift on your feet. It’s going to be a long evening for you too.

You plate up dinner for him, gently easing him back into his human brain for the moment as you remove his collar. Usually you make him eat on the floor out of his bowl, but this is a special occasion. You grab the card from the counter as you carry the plates to the table.

“Smells good.” He says, his voice lower and rougher than it is when he’s in his puppy mindset. His accent is thicker too, almost like he becomes an entirely new person. Well...he does. The whiny, needy puppy is gone, hidden well beneath the surface of a normal human man.

“My parents sent a card.” You say, sliding it across the table to him as you take a seat.

“That was nice of them.” He says, picking it up and opening it.

He reads it to you, full of well wishes and congratulations. Your parents have met him a few times, though they only know him as your boyfriend. They’ll never know about the other side of your relationship, the side where your giant Scottish boyfriend crawls around on all fours wearing a collar and occasionally a butt plug with a silicone tail attached.

To your parents he’s just a normal man. To you, he’s your good little puppy.

The two of you chat as you eat, talking about work and your coworkers and the annoying woman at the shop that was arguing with the cashier. It’s all so domestic, all so...normal.

You almost prefer him on the floor on his knees begging for scraps.

He sneaks up behind you while you’re doing dishes, his arms wrapping around you. You can feel the bulge of his quickly hardening cock against your ass, his hands sliding up your stomach towards your breasts.

“This isn’t good boy behavior.” You say, but you don’t stop him as his hands cup your breasts through your shirt.

You’ve fucked a few times like this, both of you in your normal mindsets. You let him be more dominant, let him get that energy out before he submits to you again. He’s a good fuck, knows what he’s doing. Knows exactly how to work you up.

“You’re going to ruin your surprise.” You say, yet you can’t stop yourself from pushing back against him as his thumbs brush over your nipples through your shirt. The skimpy bra you’re wearing doesn’t offer much coverage or protection from his fingers.

“Sorry mommy.” He growls in your ear, grinding against your ass.

The deep growl in his voice has a shiver running down your spine. You should stop this before it gets much further, but part of you is tempted to let him have this moment, let him celebrate his birthday in both mindsets.

“Easy, puppy boy.” You say, pushing his hands away from your breasts. You turn around, dragging a wet finger over his lips. “Be a good boy and behave yourself and you can have your surprise after I’m done.”

The change happens instantly, his eyes lighting up as he shifts back into his puppy mindset. He drops to his knees in front of you, eye to eye with your pussy but he behaves himself, holding still as you move to grab his collar. You stare down at the fabric one with the plastic clip, the one he wears while you’re gone in case he needs to get out of it fast. You want his leather one tonight.

You clip the collar around his neck for now before going back to the dishes. He crawls back to his bed, laying himself down on his stomach. You watch him carefully out of the corner of your eye to make sure he’s not rutting against the bed like a bad dog.

Dishes go by quickly as you set them in the drying rack, catching movement out of the corner of your eye. Unsurprisingly Johnny is in the corner, humping his bed, trying to relieve some of the ache that probably has his cock pulsing. You let out a sigh before approaching, bringing your hand down against his ass, the perky cheek bouncing. He lets out a yowl, his hips bucking into the bed.

“You’re being a bad boy.” You say as he turns around, cock weeping with precum. There’s a damp spot on the fabric of his bed, but you know he hasn’t cum. Not yet. He knows better.

“Sorry Mommy.” He pouts, but he can’t cute his way out of this one.

You slip your fingers under the front of his collar, tugging him forward gently. “Bad boys get punished.”

He lets out a whine, trying to give you big puppy eyes but they don’t work. You’ve long grown immune to that stare.

“Come on.” You say, moving to the drawer to pull out a leash. He crawls towards you, sitting back on his knees to allow you to clip the leash onto his collar. He is a good boy, he just can’t control himself sometimes.

Not with his insane libido.

You walk him to the stairs, taking them slow as you lead him up to the second floor. He picks up his pace on the carpet, following you eagerly into the bedroom. He dutifully sits on his knees next to the bed, watching you as you unclip his collar. You pull the leather one from the drawer, the one you made specially for him, the one with his name stamped on the side.

Johnny.

He tilts his head back as you put it on him, slipping two fingers under to make sure it’s not too tight. You turn back to the drawer, pulling out the box. He shifts on his knees, already knowing what’s coming.

“Bend over.” You say, pulling out the lube. He shifts himself onto the bed immediately, bending himself over the side. You squirt some lube over his ass, letting it run down over his hole. “Get yourself ready.”

“Yes mommy.” He doesn’t hesitate as he reaches a hand back, gathering lube on his finger before pressing it into his hole. He groans, pushing his face against the bed as he works his finger in, opening himself up. You watch him fuck himself with his finger, adding a second one to open himself up. The plug isn’t huge, but you want him to be prepared.

You spread lube on the plug before you pat his ass gently and he pulls his fingers from his hole. You squirt more lube over his hole before you press the tip of the plug against his ass. He clenches as you begin to push it in, a whiny moan leaving his lips. He’s staining the comforter with precum, but that’s what washing machines are for.

It won’t be the only stain on the bed by the time you’re done with him.

You slide the plug into place, the silicone tail perky in the air. He wiggles his hips, the tail wagging back and forth.

You hum, pleased by the sight. “My cute little puppy.” You praise him before grabbing the fluffy ears from the box. You’ve always preferred them over the more traditional mask. You want to see his cute face as you make him beg to cum.

He slides off the edge of the bed, sitting back on his knees. A breathy moan leaves his lips as the plug shifts inside him, the tail moving as he clenches around it. His cock is bright red and hard, and you’re sure you could see it pulsing with need if you looked close enough. You put the ears on him, stepping back to stare at him.

What a beautiful sight he makes.

“You were a bad boy.” You say as you close the box, moving it off the bed. “Humping your bed like a needy little pup.”

“Am a needy pup.” He whines, hips bucking the air in desperation.

“Naughty pups deserve punishment.” You ignore his words, moving to stand in front of him at the end of the bed. “You only get to watch.”

His eyes widen as you begin to unbutton your shirt, revealing the lacy bra underneath. Your nipples pebble in the cool air as you untuck your shirt, undoing the last buttons before slipping it off your shoulders. You toss it on the floor before undoing your pants, sliding them down your legs. He lets out a whine as your lacy panties are revealed, blue just like your bra. He shifts on his knees again as you sit yourself on the edge of the bed, spreading your legs.

The lace is damp from your arousal, darkening the fabric. He licks his lips as you rub your damp slit over the lace. He loves lace, the sight of it enough to make his cock leak. He can cum untouched like a needy teenager if you get him worked up enough. You're tempted to do it, make him cum all over himself before he gets to touch you.

That feels like too much of a reward.

“You don't cum until mommy does.” You command, moving the lace to the side to drag a finger through your slit.

He licks his lips, watching your shiny juices smear all over your skin as you rub your hand over your pussy. He’s enraptured, forgetting himself as he stares at your fingers and the way you spread yourself open for him to see. You’re doing it on purpose, goading him and distracting him to make him forget himself. All the more sweet torture for him.

You stop your hand, covering your pussy from his sight. “I gave you an order.” You say, your voice stern.

“Yes, mommy.” He stutters out, eyes still glued between your legs. “Don’t cum until ye do.”

“Good boy.” You praise him, opening your legs wider.

You circle your clit with a finger as you stare at him, those big blue eyes locked in on your hand between your legs. He’s picturing himself doing it, his fingers dragging through your folds, smearing your slick everywhere. You can tell by the way his fingers twitch where they rest on his thighs. He wants to taste you so badly he might start drooling soon.

You won’t let him have it yet, sliding your hand down to press a finger into your pussy. You moan softly as you work your finger in, knowing you’ll need to prepare yourself regardless to take his thick cock. You can take it without preparation, but he’s far too eager to be gentle tonight, to take his time.

You slip a second finger into your pussy, your head falling back as you fuck yourself with your fingers. Johnny shifts on his knees, hands curling into fists where they rest on his thighs. The wet sound fills the air as you thrust your fingers in and out, toes curling. You’ve been waiting for this as much as he has, your pussy throbbing for the last hour now. Still you pull your fingers from your pussy before you can cum, resting them against your inner thigh, spreading juices on your skin. Johnny is drooling now, his chin wet as his mouth hangs open just slightly. You can’t help but chuckle as you stare at him.

Needy thing.

You push yourself back up, staring at his cock for a moment. It looks painful, the nice side of you wanting to take pity on him, have mercy. This night is about him after all. It is his birthday.

“Come here and make me cum.” You say, holding the lace out of the way.

He doesn't hesitate as he crawls forward, immediately pressing his face against your folds. His tongue darts out, licking at your damp lips like the eager pup he is. He flicks his tongue over your clit, your stomach clenching at the warm sensation. He holds your gaze as he licks and sucks at your clit, slurping sloppily at the sensitive numb. Your lips are parted as you pant and moan, your hand lifting to grip his mohawk, pressing him harder against your pussy. He doesn’t complain, slick wetting his skin as he suckles at your clit, the sensations almost too much.

“Gonna cum...” You moan. “Make mommy cum!”

He sucks harder at your clit, flicking it with his tongue over and over. You cum quickly, thighs squeezing around his head. Your hips grind against his face, your hand tightening in his mohawk, holding him in place.

“Fuck....” You moan, his tongue still working at your clit, pushing you towards overstimulation.

You have to tug him away from your pussy, your body shaking from the near overstimulation. His face is shiny, his mouth still parted as he stares up at you. You press your fingers against his tongue, his lips closing around them, licking the remnants of your juices off them.

“Stand up.” You say, pulling your fingers free.

He does as he’s told, standing over you. His cock is right in front of you, hard and throbbing. You spit on your hand before you wrap your fingers around him, smearing your spit all over his length. He groans, his hips thrusting as you begin to move your hand, jerking him off.

“Gonna cum for mommy?” You ask, precum dripping around his foreskin.

“Gonnae cum.” He moans, hips thrusting in time with your hand. “Don’t stop, please!”

You don’t have any plans to, picking up the pace of your hand as you stare up at him. His cum is hot as it splatters against your chest, painting your skin as he moans low and deep. You pump him through his orgasm, milking every last drop out of him. He’s nowhere near done for the night, cock still hard in your hand.

You release him, leaning back on the bed again. “You made quite the mess, pup. Clean it up.”

He drops to his knees in front of you, leaning forward over you. His arms wrap around you as he begins to lick his cum from your skin. His tongue is warm as it trails over your skin, lapping at the streaks of cum across your chest, making sure to get every last drop of it. He follows the trail of it down to your stomach, stopping to suck at one of your nipples through the lace. You let him do it, moaning softly at the sensation. He trails his lips down your body to your thighs, licking up his cum as he goes.

He tries to push your thighs apart but you tsk at him, nudging him gently with your foot. “I’ve got something better for you.” You sit up straight on the edge of the bed, putting you nearly face to face with him. You grip him by the collar, pulling him up so you can stare into his eyes, your breath mixing with his. “I want you to breed me.”

“What?” He breathes, the puppy brain slipping just for a moment.

He goes still, his eyes widening. He searches your face for a moment, looking for any sign of hesitation or even a sign of mirth as you tell him you’re joking. You’re not. You rarely let him cum inside you, usually making him finish on your stomach before making him clean you up. He likes it too much, stuffing you full of his cum. You usually save it for special occasions like this one.

You pull away as you shift on the bed, kneeling on the edge before bending down, arching your back to push your ass into his face. “You heard me. Be a good boy and breed me.”

“Screaming Jesus.” He curses before rising to his feet, his hand falling to your hip.

He slips his cock under your panties, thrusting it through the lace and your damp folds for a moment. You moan softly as his head catches on your clit, your hips pushing back against him. You've been thinking about this all day. It had been a rough day at work as your mind was only filled with thoughts of his cock inside of you. The temptation to slip into the bathroom and rub one out had been strong, but you didn't want to make things harder for you or him.

You arch your back more as he pulls his cock back, pressing his tip against your hole. The comforter bunches as your hands sink into the fabric, holding on for dear life as his thick cock presses into you. You moan as he stretches you, rocking his hips to sink deeper and deeper. The stretch is always delicious, his cock like a bonus reward for choosing him as your puppy. Not just that, he knows how to use it.

He folds himself over your back as soon as he’s seated inside you, beginning to rut his hips against your ass. His hands come to rest by your head, pushing himself deeper inside of you.

“Fuck...that’s it puppy.” You moan, squeezing around him as he continues to rut into you like an eager pup.

He is an eager pup.

Your hands grip his wrists for support as his cock drags against that spot inside of you with every movement of his hips. He picks up the pace, his hips slapping against your ass. You’re the one almost drooling now as he rocks your body with his thrusts. He shifts, his knees coming to rest beside yours on the bed, pushing himself deeper into you.

“God, fucking yes!” You moan, squeezing around his cock.

He’s close, grunting in your ear as he ruts against you. You can picture his tail flopping back and forth, wagging excitedly as he finally fucks you after weeks of denying him your pussy.

“Mommy. Mommy.” He moans desperately. “Please, can I cum? Please let me cum.”

“Cum for me puppy.” You moan as his thrusts become sloppy and desperate. “Be a good boy and cum in me.”

His cum is warm as it spurts into you, his hips jerking before stilling as he spills into you with a whine. His cock is twitching inside of you, spilling the last of his cum before he pulls out. He moves off of your back, gripping your waist before he flips you over onto your back. You can’t find it in you to reprimand him for manhandling you, one of the rare moments he’ll take control while still in his puppy brain.

“Gonnae breed ye mommy.” He grunts, slotting his body between your thighs. You haven’t cum yet and he knows that. “Gonnae fill ye right up till ye burst.”

Fuck.

You can’t do anything but moan as he shoves your panties to the side again, thrusting right into you before very much of his cum slips out of you. He fucks it back into you, his pace fast and hard. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down against you. You can see the tip of his tail flicking back and forth from the force of his thrusts, your legs shaking as you grip his collar.

“Such a good boy.” You moan, thighs squeezing around his hips. “Such a good puppy for mommy.”

“‘M yer good boy.” He moans, pressing his face into your neck. “Good puppy for mommy.”

“Gonna make me cum?” You whine, getting closer and closer to the edge with every slap of his hips against your clit. He’s close again, whining as you squeeze around him.

“Please,” He whines, his pace stuttering. “Please cum mommy.”

You can hardly deny him as your back arches, body shaking as you cum around him. Your limbs coil around him like a snake, holding him in you as your fluttering walls force another orgasm from him. He spills into you again, spurting more cum into your pussy. You moan at the feeling, reaching up to pet his damp mohawk. He’s shaking over you, tail vibrating in the air. The night is far from over, his cock already growing hard inside of you again.

You’re going to call in the morning and book those spa days.

You continue to pet his hair as he grinds against you, humping you like a needy puppy. You press your face against the side of his, lips brushing his ear as you pant against his sweaty skin.

“Good boy.”

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