#seal!reader

SealHybrid!Reader  who’s  oh  sooo  sweet,  if  you  were  anything  else  you’d  definitely  be  a  puppy!

 Diver!Satoru  is  sent  fairly  often  to  see  if  anything’s  wrong  or  anything  can  be  recorded  in  the  area  worth  noting,  for  example  a  change  in  the  environment,  that’s  what  he’s  supposed  to  be  doing  but  he’s  entertaining  you:  the  chubby  little  thing  that  won’t  stop  circling  him,  eyes  as  wide  as  dinner  plates,  brimming  with  curiosity  and  excitement.  He’s  not  supposed  to  touch  you  but  sneaking  quick  glances  around  he  sees  none  of  his  diver  buddies  so  he’s  grabbing  the  fat  of  your  cheeks  and  pinching,  maybe  even  sneaking  quick  kisses  to  your  forehead.  You’re  beaming  with  happiness  at  all  this  extra  attention  you’re  receiving.

 Diver!Suguru  is  strict  with  you,  yes  you’re  downright  Adoreable  but  he  knows  better  than  Satoru  to  get  you  used  to  affection  knowing  you  might  go  seek  it  from  other  sources  who  won’t  be  as  kind.  He  does  indulge  you  in  little  games,  he  does  this  little  guess  which  hand  the  rock  is  in  with  you  and  it  confuses  you  to  no  end,  sometimes  he  won’t  move  the  rock  from  the  hand  and  you’ll  still  end  up  picking  the  wrong  one  :(  just  a  little  dumb  but  that’s  okay!  He  does  let  you  explore  his  diver  gear  in  return.

 Diver!Toji  isn’t  very  nice,  no  as  soon  as  you  start  inching  close  to  him  while  he’s  working  he’ll  shoo  you  away,  you  don’t  quite  understand  this  gesture  so  you’ll  just  keep  bumping  into  him  whilst  he  ignores  you,  you’ll  even  put  yourself  in  front  of  what  he’s  working  on  so  he’ll  pet  and  dote  on  you,  but  all  he  does  is  slide  your  plump  self  over  to  go  bother  with  something  else.  The  only  time  he  does  pay  attention  is  when  you’re  entertaining  him  with  the  cool  cute  tricks  you  can  do,  but  besides  that  he’s  working.  Yes  he’ll  throw  a  small  fish  your  way  to  get  you  away  for  a  little  he  finds  it  funny  how  you  immediately  zone  in  on  eating  it  for  a  good  five  minutes.

 Diver!Sukuna  is  downright  mean,  yes  he  slacks  off  and  does  his  work  halfassed  because  just  like  Satoru  he  wants  to  mess  around  with  you,  he’s  the  type  to  pinch  your  cheeks  until  you’re  chirping  for  him  to  stop.  Tears  in  your  eyes  while  he  uses  that  condescending  voice  to  reel  you  in  on  how  sorry  he  is  and  how  he  didn’t  mean  to  just  for  you  to  fall  for  it  all  over  again,  he’s  never  met  such  seal  like  you,  so  willing  to  trust.  When  he’s  pinching  the  fat  on  your  body  you  turn  your  head  signaling  you  don’t  understand  what  he’s  doing  that’s  the  one  thing  he  finds  cute  about  you.

Oh? 👀

Continuation to this

@nightunite friend, come eat. Also shout out to them for the idea of Reader not kissing John and using his beard as “seal kiss” to get information instead

John is not amused with how fast you get the ground in his team. John is even less amused with how quickly you manage to wrap all his men around your finger and never think to ask yourself whether it’s a wise move.

Almost like you don’t fucking care what he think about you or your methods, almost like you have no insecurities or cracks he can get a claw in and move around until doors to your head get off the hinges.

John doesn’t like it.

You are seemingly everywhere and all at once — you lunch with Kyle and you train with Johnny and you shower with Simon and you shoot with Kyle and you work with Johnny and you train rookies with Simon and you chat with Kyle and you groom Johnny and you kiss Simon—

You don’t seem to have place for one more person.

You don’t even seem to think about fitting in one more person, like John isn’t even the fucking captain of his TaskForce anymore. Fucking hell.

John furrows his brows at you murmuring something in Kyle’s ear which leaves him dazed and a little lovestruck, his eyes so sharp you could cut to the bone, his eyes so hungry Price would start worrying whether or not Garrick is going to eat you alive.

But seems like for now Kyle only wants to eat you out.

And judging by the looks of it, you have yet to give in — teasing his sergeant like it’s your job, sliding the tips of your fingers between his shoulder blades and offering to rub his aching back after day full of drills.

Kyle preens and shows off, Kyle smiles at you and it would have been fucking deadly if he didn’t like you this much.

Kyle doesn’t like coming in last place.

Kyle is primordial greed and primordial ambition, Kyle is used to being the best of the best of the best, Kyle is the apex predator and the youngest sergeant on the team.

And Kyle dances in circles around you for weeks now with progress taking steps so small John thinks that Kyle is gonna get his fucking kiss from you next spring.

Only because you seem to have so much fun with it.

Still, John doesn’t like the effect you have on his men and he doesn’t like that he himself can’t seem to not like you.

John doesn’t like that he’s waiting for his kiss now.

But you already kissed Johnny and Simon, it’s only fair if John gets a kiss too, right? Don’t you worry that your captain might grow displeased with you?

Don’t you want to check “the vibes”?

But if you do, you seem to do a good fucking job not giving John a single fucking clue other than occasional grin here and there. Drives him up the fucking wall, it does.

He snaps at Simon when he notices that lieutenant is outright smirking, corners of his lips so sharp it’s a fucking miracle you don’t cut yourself on it when you pull Ghost by the scruff of his neck to kiss him again.

It’s not even fucking noon, why would you be kissing Simon now?

John huffs air out, his tail swishing through the air from side to side, his molars aching to bite down on the slope of your exposed neck — to squeeze, to topple, to get you down.

To get his fucking kiss.

He feels ridiculous for wanting it so badly, he’s a grown man for fuck’s sake.

So when you finally lean in a little closer than usually, your face so focused John can’t help but grumble out “need somethin’, sergeant?”, hating the way his heart pounds.

You get closer and John can feel salt on his tongue, high waters threatening to pull him under, currents sweeping him off his feet, your breathing soft thing on his lips.

Only you don’t kiss him.

John blinks, trying to scramble his mind back, trying to force down already blooming bruise of rejection when you nose at his beard instead and hum something unintelligible.

You pull away slowly, like you are coming up after a dive, even your breathing slows down — deep and controlled, you nose away at his chin before finally sitting back.

Price doesn’t know what to say because he doesn’t trust himself not to ask you what do you think is wrong with him. Is that the cigar smell? Are seals sensitive to scents? Are you sensitive to scents? What the fuck just happened?

Price doesn’t want to admit but he was looking forward to getting that kiss.

Price doesn’t want to admit but out of the corner of his eye he watches the way you kiss Johnny and Simon — the depth, the tenderness, the licking waves of your intimacy that you seem to submerge his men completely in.

Price doesn’t want to admit, but he keeps imagining himself in their place, thinking how you’d kiss him, playing endless scenarios in his head.

Would you let him get you on his desk and finally get a hold of you thighs, because god, one more leg day and John won’t be able to fucking concentrate. For the rest of his life.

Would you pull him in your lap instead? Would you melt into him like you melt into Johnny? Would you cuddle him like you cuddle Simon? Would you hold him?

But all of these are just endless fantasies, silly dreams that keep tormenting him when you smile with your teeth, when you bent down and he gets a glimpse of your unmarked throat, when you lean a little closer and he can taste salt on the tip his tongue.

On the bright side it seems like it’s not that John is damaged or anything of the sort, he tells himself. After all, you keep teasing Kyle as well — not letting hungry harpy sink his claws into you and tear out some bleeding meat out of you.

So that’s silver lining, right?

So John rubs his face until the image of you grinning under his eyelids is not as vivid and takes the whole team out for drinks after successful mission. God knows they need it.

He needs it.

You sit nestled in between Simon and Johnny, hand of the former is dripped over your shoulders, hand of the latter is squeezing your thigh.

As if you are going to run away if these two don’t hold onto you, anchoring you to the seat of the booth.

Johnny steals your chips, offering his fried fish instead. Steals more than chips, frankly, booze makes Soap needy and you ever the glutton for attention kiss him until lad’s palm starts squeezing your thigh a little too eagerly.

John pretends he doesn’t notice the way Soap’s knuckle traces the inseam of your jeans.

John pretends he doesn’t notice the way Simon’s fingers dip under the collar of your T-shirt, pads of his fingers tracing idle patterns. Simon doesn’t give a fuck how much you kiss his boy if he gets to watch.

Simon doesn’t give a fuck even harder if he gets a kiss as well while his boy watches.

Price down his whiskey and orders another one.

Silver lining starts losing its shine faster than he’d like it, because even though Kyle watches you like…well, like a harpy he is, you just blow him a kiss and then give Simon an actual one.

Ghost licks into your mouth with wet indecent sound and breaks a kiss just to murmur something in your ear. When he turns to his captain and youngest sergeant his smirk is wicked enough to make a grown weep.

Greedy bastard enjoys it way too fucking much.

But Simon excuses himself for a smoke so John pushes the glass away and follows him out. He needs to either break his lieutenant’s jaw or find out why the fuck you deemed him bottom of the barrel.

Why he’s not getting a kiss? Don’t you like your captain?

Ghost watches him like it’s the funniest shit he’s seen in literal weeks and it might as well be, because John feels like drinking some more and calling it a day.

Silver lining, he’s not alone in this boat. Silver lining, he’s not the last of the pick.

Silver lining strains, but shines through when he steps in the bathroom because Kyle is there. And you are there. And fucking Soap is there.

What is it, a bloody convention he didn’t get tickets to?

John kicks the three of you back to the booth, his mind hazy from whiskey, his throat aching with bitterness. It takes him another minute or so to realise Soap’s zipper was open. Takes him one more to remember you had hickeys on your neck.

John gets out of the bathroom, shaking water off his hands and stalks back to the booth, tail swishing, his agitation climbing up.

Silver lining chokes at the back of his throat like cotton, tastes like old oil and stuffs him bloody silent since Simon is back, listening to chatty tipsy Soap without a care in the world.

Simon doesn’t give a fuck who does what if he has his boy by his side.

Simon doesn’t give a fuck even harder when he knows where his other seal is.

Simon grins like a bastard he is, sharp points of the curl of his lips poking at the underside of John’s ribs and says that Kyle went out for a smoke.

John doesn’t ask where you went to when he knows you don’t smoke.

He just stalks out, swinging pub’s back door open and working his jaw because smoke break, his ass.

Kyle has you backed to the wall, cooing something unintelligible, nosing at your cheeks and throat, clicking his tongue at you when you giggle.

Your hands are wrapped around Kyle’s shoulders, pulling him in and closer. Sinking your fingers in the tight muscles of his wings, murmuring something in sergeant’s ear.

You are soft from beers you had, warm with buzz of the pub and tender in a way that makes John’s molars ache.

And all your focus is on Kyle, only on Kyle, ever on Kyle when say “don’t be like that”, when you say “I know, I’m sorry, that was mean. Did I upset you, baby?”, when you say “come here. can I kiss you? I really want to. Can I? Please, Kyle, I’m gonna be good, i promise”.

John’s silver lining cracks and withers away with the chapped pieces of cheap foil shining in the light of street lamps and the glow of your eyes when you pepper Kyle’s face with kisses.

Kyle is half-lidded and hazy on you, Kyle leans closer, almost pouting when you kiss him everywhere but on the lips. Very fucking funny, you see him laughing, darling?

Kyle clicks his tongue when you giggle again but his eyes are so fond it feels more of an act than genuine frustration. Like he can’t help but like you a little too much.

Kyle nuzzles in your palm and presses wet open-mouthed kisses to your wrist, softly nips the thin skin there, laves the imprint of his teeth with the wet slide of his tongue.

Molten, hungry, dangerous.

Kyle could bite down on your wrist and leave you without a hand, Kyle could bite out more than you can give and lick at the twitching muscle, tasting the feverish pump of your heart straight out the box.

But Kyle doesn’t.

Kyle coos something about you driving him fucking insane, Kyle tilts his head so you can kiss him properly and presses you into the brick wall.

His groan when you finally kiss him is the best reward there is, because yes, fucking finally, thank you, darling.

You are kissing him like Kyle is water you’ve been deprived of, you are kissing him like that’s the only thing that matters, you are kissing him and nothing else exists.

And Kyle doesn’t break the kiss, too hungry and greedy he surges forward — your teeth clicking, the wet sounds of yours are filthy enough to make John’s jeans a little uncomfortable.

You wrap yourself around Kyle and choke when he pushes a knee between your legs, drool dripping down your chin because if Kyle could he would have swallowed you whole.

Because you don’t need air, you need Gaz.

John doesn’t know for how long you kiss, but he can tell that for a moment there two of you definitely contemplated whether or not you want to fuck in a bloody alleyway behind the pub.

John doesn’t know what to say when you finally look at him so he just silently stares back, tail swishing behind him, his molar aching when you smile like nothing happened.

“Communication going well, sergeant?”, he asks for some godforsaken reason and tries not to cringe at the way his other sergeant tucks his palm in your back pocket. This generation has no bloody shame.

“I suppose so, sir”, you smile wide enough for John to see the peeking sharp points of your teeth from under your upper lip. “Seal to harpy communication, sir. I’d say we definitely found…a common ground”, you beam and John feels like ramming down the doors to your head.

Fuck looking for cracks, he wants to crack down on you and see what the fuck is in the head of yours.

Why don’t you like him? What’s wrong with him? Why don’t you kiss him?

But John doesn’t ask and just hums before returning back to the pub. His face so grim Simon does the wise thing and stuffs Soap’s mouth with another chip before he can ask anything.

On the contrary you return with Kyle’s palm still in the back pocket of your jeans and a handful new hickeys.

John orders himself another whiskey and says to himself that he is not going to look at you, that it’s just how it is, that he is not going to run after you and beg a kiss out of you.

John looks at you anyway and you send him a wink.

Glass almost splinters in his hand, whiskey slowly dribbling out on the wooden table, John’s tail swishing behind him, John’s molars aching when you smile with teeth.

Komodo dragons thrive on hierarchy and you just toppled the whole pyramid.

Ice is starting to crack.

Found this immediately thought of orca!Eclipse reaction when any of the seal!Y/N does this.

That's so cute!!

Seal!Y/N: *makes a banana shape because of waves washing on the shore*

Orca!Eclipse:

John is a man of many qualities.

Discipline, integrity, cold head and sharp mind.

Relatively stable code of ethics he tries to apply when it doesn’t cost him an arm and a leg in the process.

He likes staying this way and he likes how high he managed to climb given his absolute hatred of bureaucracy and strained relationship with higher ups in command.

And a general he once murdered in cold blood.

On the other hand, now he is able to add to his CV “efficient and quick thinker”, so if the day comes and army boots him out, he’d be able to get a job at a place that probably frowns upon on unnecessary murder and his choice of coping mechanisms.

John knows a tad more about self control than most people — the itch under his skin to fight and chase ever present, at times even more intensely than in Simon.

And Simon is a wolf, for fuck’s sake, man is a stalking predator through and through.

But it was always different for John, a deep seated hunger, a need to climb to the top and stay there no matter what it takes and no matter how many he’d need to send tumbling down.

After all, he just does what his gut tells him.

No one’s bloody business if his gut also has sharp teeth and heavy tail and less patience than he would have liked.

John drinks his whiskey until his head is blurry. He usually stops at the glass of two fingers and a wank, getting it out of his system before his systems decides to reboot itself by urging him to maul the first soldier that looks him in the eyes.

This time John finishes three glasses, scales rippling when he stretches out, his own smoke clouding his head.

Not a good look for a captain. But tonight he isn’t one.

Tonight he is just John. Just a man.

A man you seemingly don’t want, but at the same time can’t help but enjoy teasing.

Taunting him with the promise of intimacy that John cannot have, showing affections that aren’t for him. Kisses that he can’t get.

For one or another reason.

It’s been almost three months now since he has given up trying to figure out what was so wrong about him.

Why isn’t he good enough. Why don’t you like him.

On most days he doesn’t have some proper time to spiral into thinking about his own inadequacy or about you kissing him just as sweetly as you do kiss Johnny. As you kiss Kyle.

Bit unfair it all feels, if he’s being completely honest and a little selfish. Bit unfair and a whole lot less serious than his brain makes it out to be.

Unfortunately today is one of the few precious days when he has more than enough time to think or spiral or preferably finish his bloody paperwork because the thing has been mounting on his desk.

And people need these forms filled out yesterday.

John will probably fill them out tomorrow. Maybe.

Maybe not. He isn’t sure, as of right now, your frame pulling his whole focus off the necessary work.

You aren’t doing anything per se, you just write the reports he needed help with, you are being a good teammate, you are being useful. And yet, your presence there is enough to distract him.

Well, maybe not your presence exactly.

There’s something different about your scent today.

Not the regular salt and sweat, that he already got used to. That he had spent the last few months imagining himself licking it off your skin.

Its not even the faint sea smell you bring back in your hair after taking a swim for an hour or two.

Nothing about this scent is sharp or cloying,

This one is sweeter.

Practically tender, melting on John’s tongue.

Soft with something that makes him want to do things he can’t, wrapping around John’s head like a veil, coating his mouth with sheen of something he wants to lap up.

Drives him mad that he doesn’t know what it is he smells. His tongue darting out to taste air, to moisturise his dry lips, heavy head of his tilting to the side.

Something is different today with you, seal. Something has changed and it makes the wires in his head sparkle, buzzing him back to life.

Pulling him out of an ice bath of his self-control he painstakingly forces himself into.

Doesn’t help that your usual unfazed and unbothered demeanour is not with you (why is that, he wonders) — twitchy and antsy, your knee jerks up and down under the table, shaking it with how fast you do it.

Real pity there is no one else around, but John.

No Johnny to ‘check your vibes’, no Simon to settle you down, no Kyle to kiss it better.

Just him.

Just the leftovers you apparently don’t want and the captain you don’t like.

Thought scrapes the inner side of John’s throat, acid bubbling, poison spreading. Bitter taste in his mouth almost enough to make him scowl.

But the instinctual, subconscious urge to care for a distressed member of the team is stronger than his wounded pride and heavier than his stone heart.

So his whole body is angling towards you, voice a little softer when he tries to find out what has changed. What makes you so jittery, seal?

You tick like one of Soap’s favourite bombs, timer running down, quickly approaching zero and maybe you can feel that too.

Somewhere deep under your belly button, the pull that makes you try and get away from him.

Interesting reaction.

“Sergeant?”, John murmurs quietly, his voice snapping you out of whatever haze you were in, your head turning to him quickly.

You don’t stop jerking your knee. Almost like you don’t even realise that you are doing it.

“What’s wrong? You hurt?”, he gets to the point without tiptoeing around it, no use dancing in circles if he can shorten this whole thing, cornering you to your desk. Cutting the exit off.

No way out the corner but through him now.

“Nothing, sir. I’m sorry. Must be tired”, you murmur, throat working, ring finger of yours twitching to tap down on the wood of your desktop, your eyes as bright as ever.

Only the blunt and usually so casual tone of yours cracks when you try to change the topic and move on, when you shake your head at his questions, trying to dislodge John off the matter.

Like hell you would, he can smell that something is happening.

John tilts his head to the side when you are so close he can practically taste the sweat on your skin, his tongue flickering out to lick dry lips and hide back, eyes heavy with hunger you have been taunting for the last…how long has it been, love? Was running around plenty, didn’t you?

Alcohol stomps on the ice of his self-control, cracking it for you. Welcoming you in his deep waters.

He nuzzles in your neck, hands sliding under your sweater, groping the tummy of yours, fingers sinking into warm flesh.

Clicking his tongue at your shaky ‘captain, wait—‘ because there is no need for all of that. The chase and games, the play pretend and teasing. He can smell how much you need a hand right now.

How much you need him.

So it’s true that fortune favours the patient because John has had an angelic temper when it comes to you. And this is the result.

His fingers now fondling your tummy, lips finding the juncture between your neck and shoulder, his beard tickling the heated sensitive skin.

That must be the gift for all the time he had to wait for you to finally come around.

John already knows what it is that changed when he yanks your shirt up, when he pulls the cups of your bra down, when he gets handfuls of your fat tits, thick calloused fingers of his massaging the flesh.

Someone’s having a little problem, don’t you, love?

John already knows what it is that is wrong with your mood because he kisses your neck and you shiver, panting, still trying to whine something about people seeing or someone walking in.

No one will, love.

Don’t you know it?

Komodo dragons thrive on hierarchy. And there is not a person in the whole base who’d like to push him when he’s this fucking busy.

He kneads the flesh of yours, thumb rubbing the areola. Coaxing out what he smelled this whole fucking day, what almost drove him to eat you alive before your own control came apart at the seams.

Milk beads on your nipple, John’s fingers working more of it out, his disappointed ‘tsk’ in your ear makes your knees buckle when he props his chin on your shoulder to see it all better.

So full and so hot under his touch, you’ve been having trouble with getting it out on your own, haven’t you, sergeant?

John knows for a fact that Soap is away for at least two weeks now, John knows even better that you are just out of options.

There literally aren’t anyone else but him who can help. It’s not that he is special or loved or even reliable. It’s the lack of options better than him.

Good news is: John doesn’t care anyway.

You wouldn’t believe it if he told you from just how many hopeless pits he crawled out in his days.

A stacked seal with attachment issues who needs help milking is definitely not the worst of it, love.

He tuts at your attempt to cover up or apologise when his grip tightens and milk squirts out on the desk.

All over the documents he was supposed to pass on yesterday.

Now he will probably pass them on never.

He will either need to suck the milk of yours out of the paper or burn it the fuck down.

John just might burn the bloody forms and tell the administration that he lost them. After all, you aren’t going anywhere.

And no one is coming to save you back until the end of next week.

You have no choice but him, sergeant. No one else to gift your kisses to but your captain.

The bottom of the barrel that you just grazed.

You know, maybe you should have been more careful, sergeant. Maybe you shouldn’t have dived this deep in his waters.

Now you just might not come up back for air.

John rolls his hips into you, lazy, stretching out until he is fully in and then out he goes, his thumb drawling slow excruciating circles on your clit, his thumb patting it like you are a dog that earned a treat.

And not a seal hybrid big enough to curl John into a fucking pretzel.

Though how much good your size is now when John is drooling over the fat of your hips and rolls of your stomach?

How much good your big frame is when your captain is still on the top?

“Didn’t fuck you how they should’ave, eh, sweetheart?”, John rumbles, tongue licking his lips, his hips slotting against yours like he was made for you. Like this is how it was supposed to be from the very beginning. “Can’t sate this greedy hole, can they? Need something bigger, need someone older”, he braces on a forearm above your head, hips of his rolling into yours, his tail wrapping around your leg and pulling you back on his cock.

No running now, no slipping away.

But you whine, clamping down on him, your nipples swollen and sensitive when he cooes and licks one, not yet pulling it in his mouth, not yet giving you this relief.

Just a lick, aye? A taste for your captain, for all his troubles.

John licks off the bead of milk, his system rewiring as he rams back inside of you, his grip tightening because oh, this is so much better than he could have expected.

For one dangerous moment years of his discipline crack down so hard that he almost bottoms out in you, imagining you swollen with a baby. His baby. His seal.

“Wonder what face Simon would make if he finds out I knocked up his seal”, John rumbles, pressing his hips down on yours, feeding you every thick heavy inch of himself. Until you claw at his back, eyes rolling back in your skull.

Getting drunk on just the feel of his cock splitting you.

God, he should have taken you like that the moment you decided it’s a good idea to kiss his lieutenant in front of him.

Should have taken you to the office and should have given your ass a dozen stinging smacks.

Should have taught you some fucking manners, but he wanted to be nice, he wanted you to like him and come to him yourself.

He wanted you to give it to him voluntarily. Because maybe you didn’t actually think he was the worst of the pick. Because maybe you’d want him outside of his attempts to earn the trophy of your affection.

Well, too late for that now, isn’t it?

John clicks his tongue again when you try to crawl away — too overwhelmed to think clearly, too hungry for a thing you are too ashamed to ask for.

Just your luck that John isn’t used to asking anyway.

His lips wrapping around your nipple, sucking it in, lapping at the bud of it, milk of yours blooming on his tongue — rich and thick, dripping down his chin, staying in his beard.

You really are going to cover him all in yourself by the end of it, sergeant.

Might force the man to buy you a ring to lock you down for good.

John groans, his vision crumpling around the edges when you cunt spasms around him, your thighs tensing up, hips rolling into his.

Here comes the first one.

See how nice and easy it was?

If only you have admitted from the very beginning that you like your captain.

If only you stretched around him this nicely, whimpering ‘captain please’ like he is the only one who can give you what you want.

“You are the only or are you just one left?”, vicious voice at the back of his mind sneers and John has to pull his mouth off your tit, least he risks to bite through the tender skin, marking. Permanently.

It doesn’t matter why you let him do this for you.

‘Why’ has never mattered and he should have realised it a long time ago instead of sulking around and hissing at his own men.

What matters is that you let him spread you open and force you down.

What matters is that John’s jaws close on your neck and your pussy squelches so loudly it’s almost enough for him to let it get to his head.

John presses a palm on your back, pressing down until you arch for him, not taking your attempt to wiggle away for an answer.

Why would he when you haven’t been true about your needs ever since he met you?

Why would he when your body is so much more honest than you are — your pussy drools for him, back arches — tits now pressed to the bed, ass up in the air for him to feast.

John knows, sweetheart, your nipples are too sensitive to get rubbed like that.

He is being too rough, he is taking too much and he is too hungry.

All of these are true, sergeant, every single word you are right now choking out when he pulls you right back by the hips.

He slams into you from behind, humming when you cry out trying to get back up, because where do you think you are going? No, love, you’ve been teasing him for months now.

Naughty naughty seal, thought there wouldn’t be any consequences for a fit you threw? Thought that John wouldn’t get to have you one way or another?

Or maybe you hoped that someone else would be here with you now?

He clicks his tongue when you reach for your clit, his palm smacking yours away, pushing you face down in the mattress. No, sweetheart, bad seals don’t get to touch themselves.

If you can’t come from him fucking into you, pressing your heavy leaking tits into the bed then you aren’t coming at all.

See how unfair that sounds? See how mean he has to be with you now?

He wouldn’t have needed to do that if only you came sooner to him.

If you haven’t made him bite down on your throat instead of carefully eating from your open palm, accepting whatever you were willing to offer.

But you didn’t offer a single fucking thing so he had to take the matter in his own hands.

And look where it has gotten him.

Bouncing your ass down on his cock, your greedy fucking hole squeezing him so tightly it drives him half feral.

He’d need to train you proper, sweetheart, show you how to take your captain to the hilt like a good sergeant should.

John will show you, he’s only happy to teach.

And it’s only fair if he gives you an example by stretching out your favourite Johnny right in front of you.

Main:

1. Seal to Seal communication

2. Seal to Wolf communication

3. Seal to Eagle communication

4. Seal to Dragon communication

Add-ons:

Because that’s an entirely different kind of party happening there, like

Alpha!Kyle x Alpha Reader: *blasting on full volume in not sound proof headphones* I WANNA RUIN OUR FRIENDSHIP WE SHOULD BE LOVER INSTEAD I DONT KNOW HOW TO SAY THIS CAUSE YOU REALLY MY DEAREST FRIEND *gets louder* WE SHOULD BE LOVERS INSTEAD

Beautiful fish AU: so you know it’s hard to feel wanted…when nobody wants you

Communications AU: *singing in the kitchen in nothing but big T-shirt* so let’s just skip the small talk, don’t mean to be a prick. Now let’s get down to business, all I need to taste is your *pause* lips

Animal to Animal AU: our obsessions becomes our ultimate doom since by putting a person on a pedestal one puts a veil over their eyes and becomes blind to things otherwise obvious

Acceleration AU: *in their entirely separate bubble, warm and comfortable, looking through JUSK website for new bed and blankets*

Dozen unfinished Fruit Bat AU snippets: *enthusiastically dancing Greek sirtaki in a circle around thriving Communications AU*

I just had to show you how I pictured things with probably one of the weirdest pictures I've found. (I didn't know you couldn't send pictures anonymously, so this very much feels like a turtle coming out of their shell)

Mentally this is what I think Price looked like at the end

And seal!reader like this:

Harbour seal!Soap with Grey seal!Reader. I loved the serie so much, but let’s start with the first, mhmm..

And here you come — strong and absolutely gorgeous, your grin wide enough to show short canines, tips of them peeking out from under your lips, Soap’s own grin so wide it’s inappropriate.

I can only imagine how excited he must have felt. Finally another seal- and so gorgeous too. I'd also be over the moon.

Gaz raises an eyebrow silently, already planning to take his leave and let Johnny get properly acquainted with fellow seal hybrid when the mad bastard full on locks lips with you.

Please, I'm giggling. The passion, gimme gimme !

“Mate— come on, what the fuck? Let them go”, Kyle hisses, bird part of him enraged at Soap’s lack of proper courting or a basic fucking “can I kiss you”. Who even jumps in straight into the abyss like that?

I'd just straight into the abyss like that. yes. yes. yes.

Poor Kyle has to suffer and watch such inappropriate scene in front of him.

“Baltics, eh?”, Johnny hums like Kyle should understand what the fuck does it even mean, but you happily nod and Gaz feels like wrapping himself around you as well. That’s probably the concussion speaking in him, he should get checked out pronto.

Kyle, you're next. (It's a threat)

“Seal to seal communication. That’s how we talk.”

Where is my other seal? I envy.

Pretty seal. Dangerous seal. Never before he wanted to switch spicies so badly.

Poor baby, wishing for something impossible.

Gaz rubs his face, quietly groaning in his palms before he turns to follow the two of you. God knows that’s concussion speaking, he should get checked out. Because he is definitely (not) going to show off to his new teammate like some sort of pretentious wanker.

Waiting for him to show off. *grins*

Next one>>

Ate this up so quick. After all, seal to seal communication is my speciality. Ain't it?

______

Seal Soap that gets along with seal Reader better than anyone else: better than Price, better than Kyle, better than Ghost.

I can already see Ghost fuming. I want that. gods I want to see jealous Ghost.

And while Kyle (who came back flustered and smitten) tried to explain the delicacies of seal to seal communications, Simon doesn’t fucking buy it. There is no such thing as wordless communication, there are scents of course, there are signals and sounds. But completely silent talk initiated by kisses? No, that’s bullshit if you ask him.

Jealousy has be biting my lips and leaning forward.

Johnny twitches his upper lip to show off sharp teeth when someone else gets too close to you, guarding new seal on his team like a bloody treasure.

And I'd die for jealous Johnny, makes my knees weak.

Slippery fucking seal, he hates that he doesn’t have grounds for being a bigger dick to you than he already is.

I laughed. Hard. I LOVE SEALS !!

Simon accidentally walks in onto one of these sessions and like a bloody creeper stays in the shadowed corner because the two of you seem a bit preoccupied with whatever “conversation” you have been having.

Lmao. Has me imagining the scene. Reader and Johnny having seal to seal communication and Ghost not too far behind, hidden in a tight dark corner looking at them with fume running up his head.

There is a quiet soft intimacy in the way you hold each other, in the way your kiss seems never ending, in the way you two break it only to rub cheeks or noses. It’s intimacy Ghost hasn’t seen before and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

Seal to Seal communication really does seal the deal.

Eyes so calm it drives him up the wall, eyes so gentle he feels like wrestling you to the floor so you finally get the point and stay the fuck away from him.

N. e. v. e. r.

But you don’t seem to mind it, your nose just pressing to his cheek — slowly, like you aren’t sure how much you can do before Simon loses his mind and either mounts or mauls you right on the floor of this gym.

I. Fucking. Love. Tension.

I love the uncertainty of the moment.

The calculated glare, or the smile.

Slippery against rough.

There is a beat after which you finally press your lips to his, catching them like he’s an old friend you are happy to see — your tongue asking for permission like Simon isn’t pushing his in your mouth the moment you kissed him.

Slippery won. ;)

Slippery seal, don’t you know that he is the biggest meanest dog in this compound?

Hehe, we know we know we knowww and we want more.

We want to gain the upper hand.

Seal to wolf communication, eh? That’s something he can understand.

See? We only had to switch one word, be a bit more feral..

Price pauses mid sentence, giving you a long unreadable stare before finally arching his brow, thick cigar between his lips heating up when he pulls air in. Komodo dragons thrive on hierarchy and you are starting to push it. Thin ice there.

Finally, finally. god yes. It's time to tick off Price.

Kyle looks at Ghost with the look of utter betrayal on his face.

Poor Kyle. The big mean wolf got what you want before you?

“Didn’t know it was a thing. Can he talk with seals too?”, Price looks utterly unimpressed, eyes heavy with something you can’t quite make out. “No, sir.”, the answer is as honest as they get, your grin only widening when Ghost slowly licks his lips, lieutenant’s eyes heavy in a way that unrolls a sweet aching in your belly.

Grinning from ear to ear. Author you rile me up with your way of writing. I adore you.

Next one>>

Already here.. Ily author. Let me eat you.

___

You are seemingly everywhere and all at once — you lunch with Kyle and you train with Johnny and you shower with Simon and you shoot with Kyle and you work with Johnny and you train rookies with Simon and you chat with Kyle and you groom Johnny and you kiss Simon— You don’t seem to have place for one more person.

Poor cap, can't seem to fit in.

Kyle preens and shows off, Kyle smiles at you and it would have been fucking deadly if he didn’t like you this much. Kyle doesn’t like coming in last place. Kyle is primordial greed and primordial ambition, Kyle is used to being the best of the best of the best, Kyle is the apex predator and the youngest sergeant on the team. And Kyle dances in circles around you for weeks now with progress taking steps so small John thinks that Kyle is gonna get his fucking kiss from you next spring.

Kicking my feet in the air. I love needy Kyle. Never knew I needed needy Kyle, until now.

But you already kissed Johnny and Simon, it’s only fair if John gets a kiss too, right? Don’t you worry that your captain might grow displeased with you? Don’t you want to check “the vibes”?

Not him tryna to use our words to excuse his needs.

John huffs air out, his tail swishing through the air from side to side, his molars aching to bite down on the slope of your exposed neck — to squeeze, to topple, to get you down. To get his fucking kiss.

Thighs squeezing. Drivin him up the wall are we.

Price doesn’t know what to say because he doesn’t trust himself not to ask you what do you think is wrong with him. Is that the cigar smell? Are seals sensitive to scents? Are you sensitive to scents? What the fuck just happened?

Poor Price. Old man can't seem to get his fill, nor answers.

On the bright side it seems like it’s not that John is damaged or anything of the sort, he tells himself. After all, you keep teasing Kyle as well — not letting hungry harpy sink his claws into you and tear out some bleeding meat out of you.

You said it. Now it's gonna happen.

Why he’s not getting a kiss? Don’t you like your captain?

I can taste the desperation on my tongue.

Simon doesn’t give a fuck who does what if he has his boy by his side. Simon doesn’t give a fuck even harder when he knows where his other seal is.

The bliss Si must be in, I'm envious.

And all your focus is on Kyle, only on Kyle, ever on Kyle when say “don’t be like that”, when you say “I know, I’m sorry, that was mean. Did I upset you, baby?”, when you say “come here. can I kiss you? I really want to. Can I? Please, Kyle, I’m gonna be good, i promise”. John’s silver lining cracks and withers away with the chapped pieces of cheap foil shining in the light of street lamps and the glow of your eyes when you pepper Kyle’s face with kisses.

I can taste Kyle glowing and Price dropping.

Precious.

Kyle is half-lidded and hazy on you, Kyle leans closer, almost pouting when you kiss him everywhere but on the lips. Very fucking funny, you see him laughing, darling?

No, but I am.

But Kyle doesn’t. Kyle coos something about you driving him fucking insane, Kyle tilts his head so you can kiss him properly and presses you into the brick wall.

Kyle is a pretty tamed harpy.

John doesn’t know for how long you kiss, but he can tell that for a moment there two of you definitely contemplated whether or not you want to fuck in a bloody alleyway behind the pub.

Honestly, yes please.

“Seal to harpy communication, sir. I’d say we definitely found…a common ground”,

Price WILL explode. At least, he would.

Glass almost splinters in his hand, whiskey slowly dribbling out on the wooden table, John’s tail swishing behind him, John’s molars aching when you smile with teeth. Komodo dragons thrive on hierarchy and you just toppled the whole pyramid. Ice is starting to crack.

I want to feel the fall in the icy water as the ice finally breaks under his and my feet.

Ready to swim and take him down with me.

__

In the end.. I did the 'analysis' of everything..

I really love this serie baby.

Excited and eagerly waiting for next part.

__

I wonder how Price his once we start to proudly kiss Kyle like we do with Johnny and Si..

I wonder how reader teases Price even further..

Feed me baby, let me know how much Price craves and wishes to put reader in their place. (Perhaps failing)

-🦭anon

Guess who’s back with analysis..🦭 *giggles*

Welcome-welcome, lovely to see your reaction to the AU of mine once again

I can only imagine how excited he must have felt. Finally another seal- and so gorgeous too. I'd also be over the moon.

He is beyond elated, it’s a lot like something finally clicked into place and he feels complete. And he didn’t even know he needed to be completed. But still it feels right, like meeting a person and immediately knowing they are going to be your best friend

Poor Kyle has to suffer and watch such inappropriate scene in front of him.

Kyle was annoyed and scandalised, yea. Because there is no fucking way the mad Scotsman just smooched the new teammate on the lips, like it was a bloody handshake. Who even does that??

Waiting for him to show off. *grins*

Hope I delivered on it cause he did

I can already see Ghost fuming. I want that. gods I want to see jealous Ghost.

Interesting for me personally was that he is not as much of jealous in the usual way, but more of one rooted in his unwillingness to be left behind, coupled with uncomfortable feeling of not being in control and not having ability to get back in the saddle like he’d like to.

Ghost in the end of it all didn’t like it because he couldn’t understand it and because no one bothered explaining what it really is for seals like Johnny and sergeant Seal. Because he wasn’t invited to that party and they weren’t ashamed to show that he wasn’t. In their defence, no one was invited but Johnny.

Lmao. Has me imagining the scene. Reader and Johnny having seal to seal communication and Ghost not too far behind, hidden in a tight dark corner looking at them with fume running up his head.

Yeah, I pretty much imagined it this way. That he is just there, just watching intently, jaws clenched tightly, frustration climbing to his head because it unnerves him even more when he entertains the possibility that it might go deeper than he thought. Because there are some things that might be just out of reach for him and what if no matter how good he is, it wouldn’t be enough because he simply is not the right fit for the equation?

I. Fucking. Love. Tension. I love the uncertainty of the moment. The calculated glare, or the smile. Slippery against rough.

I really wanted to show that for sergeant it was as much of a gamble as it was for Simon, but at the same time they do not tease him for feeling the way he feels, they don’t poke where it hurts because on some level they understand the insecurity that Simon doesn’t like addressing. Simon waits for them to play him, sergeant waits for him to maul them and neither of those things happen.

Poor Kyle. The big mean wolf got what you want before you?

Kyle will get his fill, but yeah, it was frustrating to see that someone might stomp a foot and get what he wants without putting much care into proper courting to earn the kiss.

Kicking my feet in the air. I love needy Kyle. Never knew I needed needy Kyle, until now.

I like this man needy. He is very often pretty and occasionally evil [insert ‘this man is so beautiful. I just know he evil’ picture] so I like him to get hungry for what he wants. Especially since he is so used to being the best and getting what he set his sight on

Poor Price. Old man can't seem to get his fill, nor answers.

It drives him up the wall because it also leaves him filling in blanks on his own. Like why is it happening? Is it him? Is it external factor? Is it something he can help?

I can taste the desperation on my tongue.

Fantastic, that was the intention. I liked writing desperate aching Price, it nourished my soul

The bliss Si must be in, I'm envious.

He really is, by the way he is the only person who gets to marry both sergeant MacTavish and sergeant Seal. So he does win in the end and retires with two seals on both sides of him. Imagine the size of the bed they have

I can taste Kyle glowing and Price dropping. Precious.

Yeah, some proper pampering for the Kyle because he deserves it. Honestly I wanna give him even more kisses now

I want to feel the fall in the icy water as the ice finally breaks under his and my feet.