Mouse's Nest

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"Stop cumming on my cock!" he's ramming into you as hard as he can, slamming the headboard into the wall with every stroke. "cant pull out when you're dr-dripping down my balls and... god, fuck, when your body does that-"

his head dips down to suck your tits into his mouth and the sensation makes your body twitch and kick-

warmth pulses inside you

"I can feel it, that's so gross," you whine. "i hate you-"

part 1. part 2. part 3. (Coming soon!)

cw: 18+ smut! Mer!Soap x handler!gaz, ovipos. medical ovi stuff. fisting? mer anatomy (dual anatomy cock and slit opening idk) a smidge of implied voyeurism/exhibitionism if you squint.

Inspired by this soap x mer!reader @rawme-price post, which I read and subsequently blacked out and wrote the the following...

The tank room was warm and quiet, lit only by the blue glow of the filtered water sloshing gently against the glass. Soap lay curled on the extraction table beside it, gills fluttering faintly where they nestled against the damp skin of his neck. His scales shimmered in the low light, muted turquoise, with opal flickers pulsing like soft bioluminescence under his skin. They always dimmed this time of the season.

He was tired. Uncomfortable. Bloated in that way he hated when the eggs had settled but not released, pressing against his lower abdomen.

The slit along his pelvis pulsed, shivering at the air, and Soap shifted against the padding with a frustrated little huff.

"Easy, darling." Gaz's voice was warm as he stepped in, pulling on his gloves. "Told you I'd be here before it got too bad."

Soap blinked up at him through half-lidded eyes. His arms were folded loosely under his torso, hair damp and the mohawk getting fluffier as it dries. "Took yer sweet time," he muttered, though there was no bite in it. He sounded fuzzy.

one night he gets a little too drunk with his best friend and shows it to him. To brag about his perfect pussy that he can play with whenever he wants.

and the first thing his friend does is touch you. he runs his fingers through your folds, lingering at your clit before falling back down to your entrance.

"Whoa, you can't-"

"Come on, im' just touching. its not like im on top of her," he dismisses, already rubbing your clit. "Just let me play with it, okay?"

"Just don't fuck it, I guess."

Whenever hour boyfriend looks over for the rest of the night, his friend is touching you. sometimes gently admiring your pussy with his fingers. other times he has two fingers fucking you, pumping hard, and the other hand rubbing these wet, sloppy sounds out of you-

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to get her to squirt again." your boyfriend didnt know you could do that. "its just-"

And the first thing you say when you walk in is "john!! You didn't say you had a dog!!"

Price...definitely doesn't have a dog.

"Oh he's just so cute! Look at him!!" You completely miss his confused grunt, practically wagging your own non–existent tail when you kneel on the hallway floor and begin petting a very confused golden retriever.

A golden retriever who looks suspiciously identical to ghost, a dog shifter.

"What a good boy! John when did you get him? He's huge–" you keep going, scrubbing your hands along ghosts coat.

The entire time, price and ghost stares at each other in a stand–off. Ghost definitely shouldn't be in price's house, but he also is still hoping to take you to bed, and revealing ghost would probably ruin that....

Which is how price ends up pretending he does actually own a dog. Ghost is shockingly receptive to pats and baby talk when it's from you, even climbing into your lap excitedly. You absolutely love him.

Kink exists because people find taboo or unorthodox situations erotic and/or stimulating to experience in their imagination but would otherwise be disgusted or traumatized if it were to be real. BDSM facilitates a safe way to play out these situations just like a theatrical play.

Pet play is not bestiality. All parties are human adults. Perhaps they are wearing leather or some sort of costume. That does not diminish the fact that they are irrevocably human.

Ageplay is not pedophilia. All parties involved are adults. They may be pretending to be younger than they are but they still are an adult and have the agency of an adult. They may be an adult in a diaper. Still an adult.

Consensual non consent (cnc) is not rape by definition. All parties agree upon the scenario of play and the safe word(s) they will be using beforehand. All parties are willing participants that are consenting and want to engage in the play. Aftercare is especially essential with cnc because dominant partner(s) can feel like they actually are a rapist - when in reality all parties consented and enjoyed the play otherwise they would have safeworded.

Kinksters attend workshops and seminars to ensure that their practices are the safest they can be for the type of play they are engaging in. They openly communicate with their partner(s) in order to make every experience the best for all parties. Of course there is no type of play that is without any sort of risk (it may bring up buried trauma you weren't aware of, one wrong placement of a cane and you might need to visit the ER, etc) but you cannot assume that every kinkster and BDSM practitioner engaging in "fringe" kinks is into those acts in reality outside play. People that abuse the BDSM space by participating in unethical practices are not welcome.

Disgust is not equal to morality. You can be disgusted by things and not personally partake in things without ascribing morality to it.

Murder, rape, pedophilia, and bestiality are unethical and immoral because they hurt people and animals. Murder in real life is a horrific, harrowing act that ripples through the lives of so many. Murder in fiction is just another interesting puzzle for Poirot to solve.

There aren't any crimes happening when adults play make believe. Thought crimes aren't real and you can't tell what beliefs someone subscribes to just because they're into a kink you would never touch with a ten foot pole.

Protagonist now remembers key facts about important people. He no longer develops convenient amnesia between cutscenes.

Protagonist now has a cooldown on certain adverbs. Adverbs have been buffed by 30% to compensate.

Developer note: Adverbs are important to writing but they are sometimes overused. This change keeps adverbs relevant while encouraging the use of adjectives and verbs.

The horse now has a name.

Solved a glitch where supernumerary limbs would sometimes emerge during complex physical interactions.

Should no longer display “[insertnamehere]” during conversations and narration. All of such occurrances have been replaced with the appropriate tags.

Conversation continuity has been improved. Characters will no longer inappropriately respond with lines from previous iterations of the narrative.

All references to “Event A” have been purged to reflect changes in narrative structure.

Paragraphs which contained two or more instances of the same adjective have had their adjectives updated to accurately reflect a player’s vocabulary inventory.

Minor time traveling issues have been resolved, all characters should now exist in the same tense.

Punctuation has been improved. Commas have been reduced by half.

Characters sighing has been reduced by 30%.

Characters looking at things or people during conversations has been reduced by 40%. To make up for this, characters thinking about the conversation has been boosted and descriptive narrative has been added.

And yet- women from other offices seemed to flock to you. Fluttering their lashes as they giggled at a dumb quip you’d spouted while they waited for something to print. ‘This printers the best in the building,’ they always said as an excuse- before fluttering all over your desk for the next twenty minutes well after their copies had finished.

They would slip right past the other handsome men in the office, right past Gaz all to lean over your door while you prattled on about something he couldn’t care about. What was it? You were unconventional, not masculine really. Sure- you were tall but always hunched, glasses that always were seconds from falling off your nose. He couldn’t figure it out-

Until he locked himself in that closet with you.

Oh, then he understood exactly the type of woman that flocked to this little office, as you giggled in his ear. “Ky, I thought you were supposed to be a real man? How come you’re just melting in my hands, baby?” You murmur, stroking his cock slowly just to hear the man whimper pitifully. He could barely remember how this even happened, so determined to top you and learn your secrets that he was blindsided by you pinning him to your own chat and sitting in his lap just to sit there and-

TEASE his cock. It wasn’t fair, tears brimming at his dark eyelashes. This was so beneath him- you should’ve been beneath him! And yet, all he could do was paw at your shirt with his huge hands he’d snapped necks with and beg for you to make him cum.

Maybe if he came fast enough, he’d catch you off guard and get an upper hand. That would rely on him being even half coherent enough as you edged him into madness, babbling and drooling into your shirt. You seemed to have an innate sense for when someone was about to cum- like the slightest twitch of his thick dick was a language you almost understood better than he did. Slowing down, speeding up again in a circle of hell.

“Bh- please- fuck- please- lemme cum, lemme-“ he nearly wailed, yelping at smaller fingers stuffing themselves into his mouth. Your hands- soft, not calloused like most men on base. They didn’t grate against his tongue like other men’s, instead felt- good. Right.

“Of course, sugar. But- you gotta promise me somethin, okay? Think you can do that?” You murmur, licking at his jaw tenderly. So sweet- how were you so sweet? For so long he’d grown used the harsh snatches and tugs of military men, that this felt euphoric. No fight for power, no force necessary. Just.. good.

“Any-anythin’, anythin’ luv jus- fuck-“ Kyle honest to god couldn’t see, stuck right on the edge so hard that his ears were ringing. Somewhere in the far recesses of his fucked out mind, he could hear his captain snarling at him to get back up. That only made his balls grow tighter, made his fists shake against your shirt.

“Next time you wanna get taken care of, just ask sweet okay? You don’t need to be all tough n pretend, youre a sweet boy, i know it,” you murmur, and the sergeant feels his whole body turn rigid. Your hand speeds up instinctually, the absolute relief making the huge 200 pound man sag against the chair and openly cry as he finally comes. Rope after rope of pearly white fluid, all caught in your hand as you massage his tip just to watch Kyle writhe a little more.

“Yes- yessir- sorry sir,” he babbles on instinct, another shot of cum spilling into your hand at your pleased moan. Kyle can feel his thick muscles spasm and shake, your free hand scratching slowly up his scalp then back down his nape so comfortingly. Then, when you’ve finally decided you’ve listened to the sergeant whimper enough- you lick your hand clean and gently tuck him back in his pants, even as his cock still throbs watching you swallow down his spunk.

You manage it, somehow. This SAS soldier who has more experience than you have years alive, you manage to get him locked up in your basement. The first thing he does when the drugs wear off? Fucking criticize your technique.

"Your calculations were off with that drug, I was in an' out half the drive." He informs bluntly, not at all phased by you being in full gear with a gun at your side. "Oh, and yer breaks need to be checked."

You openly gape at him, honestly a bit offended, "are you?? Critiquing me right now?? I kidnapped you!"

"Not very well." Ghost scoffs, he taps his feet together, absently noting that they aren't cuffed "have you ever done this before, kid?"

"Yes! Of course I have!" You frown, replying all too fast and eager to be believable. Ghost just raises a brow at you. You stare at him, seemingly unsure what to do.

"...common practice is to film a proof of life. If yer hoping for ransom" he snorts when you fumble with the old camera, and puts on his best 'I'm miserable' expression for you.

...sure. he could leave at any time, your cuffs are nothing compared to some things he's dealt with. But, well, spending a few weeks watching you fumble about like a fawn is more interesting than the medical leave he was scheduled for.