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bunny584 · 10 months ago

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OBSESSED: SHOKO feat. The BOYS (PART II)

A/N: This is so…I am so…CLEARLY I was in a mood when I wrote this 😅 there is 100% going to be a third and final part. Please use the visual below to envision the…biomechanics of positioning and such, height differences and all.

C/W: ….the trio is their own content warning LOL, Mature 18+

Shoko is drowning.

She is suffocating.

And it’s your little hand that’s holding the back of her head under water.

…rather, she wishes your little hand would just grip the back of her head already and drown her face in your—

“Do you like the pink or the black dress better?”

Your eyes are wide and gorgeous. Finding Shoko’s in the floor length mirror, expecting an answer. An opinion.

But the problem is, Shoko has only one opinion.

And it’s that you’re fucking hot.

And beautiful. And pretty. And perfect.

And her jaw is so sore from how much she clenches it to keep herself from begging to eat your pussy like a woman starved.

Because she IS starved.

“Baby?”

Your girly giggle knocks Shoko back to Earth, just long enough for you to rip her breath away.

You glide over to the bed, where Shoko is seated. Thighs mashed together. As if it’ll keep her from leaking all coherent thought onto her panties.

“Y-you look pretty in…” Shoko’s voice is high and weak, before it shatters to stardust.

Seductive little grin tugs on your lips before you flick your tongue over Shoko’s bottom lip. She’s immediately cross-eyed.

Panting, with mouth parted.

Shoko’s heart is rattling in the back of her throat, how it always does before you kiss her.

Then you kiss her.

Your tongue dances with hers. Feather light pulls along the roof of her mouth. Shoko whines. She always whines when you makeout with her. Her entire body is loose and limp. The only stiff thing about her is her hot, sticky bud. Begging to be touched and rubbed while you fuck her mouth like this.

And she would touch herself while you did this to her, if she could. But she never can.

Because you’re a succubus.

You taste and suck and roll Shoko’s soul over your tongue like a glass of Sauvignon Blanc.

And right when you have her pathetic. Whimpering “oh god” and “please” into your mouth, you pull away. Planting one last chaste kiss on her lips or cheek before going about the conversation or task.

Leaving Shoko paralyzed.

“Pink it is!” You glide into Shoko’s bathroom, the boys will be over in a few.

“P-pink is perfect.” Words bubble out of Shoko’s lips a day late and dollar short.

But who cares? She can’t think right now.

Like clockwork, Shoko’s two fingers snake between her drenched panties and her leaky cunt.

She just…she just needs to take the edge off.

Because you’ve been doing this to her.

Kissing her until she’s soaking wet every day. Since that night. It’s a sick little routine you two have and it’s driving Shoko insane.

You’re always sighing into her mouth and calling her baby and holding her face in a way that makes her cunt twitch. And clench. And pulsate around nothing.

The second you leave the room or turn away. Shoko’s fingers fly to her core. Petting herself slack jawed and dumb.

Because even small touches keep her grounded.

And she’s NOT going to ruin this by trying to talk about it. And muddle your obvious chemistry with labels and feelings.

A sliver of you is enough.

Even though she is pining for the moment you fuck her mouth with something else.

“Girls?” Satoru’s voice thunders in your foyer.

For once you’re grateful for his utter lack of boundaries. He jingles keys for dramatic effect.

“Car’s here! The tequila isn’t going to drink itself.”

—

It’s going to take act of God to stop Suguru from cumming in his pants.

All night.

He has been physically restraining the steel fucking pipe between his legs all night.

And maybe he would survive if it was just the way you winded your hips on him the last 5 songs.

Maybe he would be okay if it was just the way you grazed your lips over his ear whenever you whispered something to him.

It was definitely the way you batted your eyelashes up at him. Holding eye contact while taking the kamikaze shots.

That are white and opaque, like his cum.

And being the sick, perverted shell of a human that he is. He pictured you swallowing his arousal. The same way you throated that shot.

Not to mention the “You have to hold eye contact with me, Suguru. Or seven years of bad sex.”

Sex?

You are sex.

The way you’re lapping him in the taxi home is sex.

With your dress splayed across him. Heat radiating from your precious little cunt held back only by gossamer thin lace.

Suguru can feel every tiny bump in the road. Because your pussy grinds and bounces and rubs the length of his shaft.

And he’s shameless.

Every time you lean forward to talk to Shoko, Suguru’s hand traces down your spine. His mind’s eye can only picture steadying the small of your waist while he fucks into you until you forget your name.

His cock is raging against his thigh.

He and Satoru have been exchanging dubious glances all night.

Especially when you pulled them both to the dance floor. You were a lock-and-key fit between them.

Like you were made to take them both.

“God.”

Suguru accidentally mumbles out loud. And he’s thanking/cursing out the gods as soon as he does

Because when you turn to look back at him, your hips grind in a small circle on his cock. And the friction nearly short circuits his brain.

“You okay? Am I too heavy?” Cotton candy on your voice and Suguru needs you to melt on his tongue.

Suguru purposefully bucks his hips upward - causing you to bounce fully off his lap. And he would impale you on the landing if he could.

He could suspend you with one hand. And rail the daylight out of you while standing up.

“You’re a featherweight, princess.” It’s a miracle he’s able to keep his tone steady.

“Oh, he speaks?” Shoko teases.

“Only because the love of his—“ Both you and Suguru land friendly fire onto Satoru’s chest.

Effectively cutting him off.

Satoru settles back into his seat. Riding his eyes along every soft curve and dip in your body.

Everyone.

And he means everyone (driver included) in this car except for you is fucking struggling. Keeping it together by a string of floss.

And he didn’t need his Six Eyes to see that.

Shoko hasn’t stopped panting since the night started. Every time you lean into her ear to giggle about god knows what, she moans.

It’s soft. Below the decibels of normal human perception.

But Satoru can perceive it.

The driver has had his left hand buried in his crotch the whole time. Goddamn revolting.

But Satoru gets it.

And Suguru.

Poor, tortured Suguru.

Satoru has never seen his best friend this blue balled in his entire life.

He has seen Suguru take swords to the chest. Satoru has seen him swallow shit curses as big as the Burj Khalifa. He’s seen Suguru suffer.  

And yet, he has never suffered like this.

There’s a light sheen of sweat draped on his forehead. His jaw is so tightly clenched his molars could vaporize into thin air. His hand drunkenly runs up and down your back when you bend over and dangle your fucking prize in Suguru’s face.

In Satoru’s face.

You are a tease.

And Satoru has every intention of getting you back for this.

There will be hell to pay for how irresistible you are. It’s maddening.

You could ask for the world and Satoru would bring you the Milky Way. You pout your lips and bat your eyelashes and somehow, somehow the batteries in Satoru’s brain die.

Every. Fucking. Time.

The whole car comes to a proverbial halt. Because you lean over to Shoko once more. Your dress bunched a little too high around your hips. Plump, perky ass cheeks in near full view in Suguru’s lap.

“Baby?” A snowflake hitting the ground in that car might as well be a raging hurricane. With how silent it is.

Satoru swallows the sharpest, driest rocks known to man.

Suguru rolls his bottom lip under his teeth. He’ll draw blood in a minute.

“Y-yes?” Shoko answers your call.

Starless skies fill the car but Satoru can see Shoko’s high crimson blush from the backseat.

Baby? Holy shit, Ieiri.

“Kiss me,” Melody on your lips is strong enough to sink a Navy fleet.

What Satoru sees next will be burned into his psyche for the rest of his life.

His overgrown cock throbs against his thigh. Beating more aggressively with each passing second.

He can’t remember when he pulled his glasses off. To watch your tongue wire into Shoko’s accepting, desperate mouth. You thread both of your hands into her hair while your mouth molests hers.

All in plain view of Satoru and Suguru.

And Shoko has no idea what to do with herself. Satoru can’t blame her. She’s full of high pitched moans and pants, drunk off of your love elixir.

God. Fucking. Damn.

“Oh, oh it’s that kind of night?”

Satoru is fully aware of the slur to his words. And the flecks of blood now currently under his finger nails from digging into his palms the way he is.

And you laugh in the way wind chimes sing in the breeze. How Satoru imagines the angels in heaven strum harps. Your voice is so…disarming.

“What, you jealous pretty boy?”

You flash him a smile that Satoru is sure doubles as the cure for any and all communicable diseases. A smile that could get answers out of the CIA or KGB.

“Maybe. A little bit.” Satoru is all rasp. His hand palms his length on its own accord.

He has no control here.

Your eyes flicker down to Satoru’s mouth for a millisecond. And in a flash his lips are on yours.

He grips a handful of hair like it’s his life-force. Your kiss is sweet. And dizzying. And toxic. Nothing like this can be pure, it can’t be good. Satoru is convinced his heart will stop beating after taking a bite out the apple in your Garden of Eden.

But he could die on your lips. Right here. Right now.

“Oh Satoru…” you purr into his mouth and he shamelessly squeezes his cock.

You are unfair.

'I’m jealous too, pretty girl.” Suguru’s voice slices through the thick lusty silence.

You say nothing before you pull off of Satoru’s wanting lips and take in Suguru.

Satoru and Shoko watch you nestle deeper into Suguru’s lap.

His hands drift from your waist, to your hips, around to your ass. The way your flesh dimples when he squeezes sends electric currents through Satoru’s cock.

He watches you deepen your kiss with Suguru, who is so clearly tantalized. So clearly about to split you in half.

His fingers twitch along his zipper for a second.

Then time stops.

And so does the taxi.

You take a second to pull away from Suguru’s lips but Satoru doesn’t miss how puffy and flushed your mouth is.

Your eyes dart between the three of them. Then out the window.

“Oh! We’re home!”

FINALE

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bumblebeesfromvenus · 6 months ago

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Mrs. MacTavish's Remedy 🍯

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

For all my girlies who have trouble falling asleep 🫶🏻

Johnny himself had times where sleep seemed far away from him... fortunately, Mrs. MacTavish's remedy works wonders not only on loud brains but the soul as well <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Your feet patted against the hardwood floor as you made your way into your living room, where your boyfriend was left watching some film on the telly.

The bright light from the television stung in your eyes as you got closer, making an effort to let Johnny's form shield your retinas so they wouldn't go up in flames.

"Johnny..." you mumbled sleepily, dragging yourself around the couch. A soft smiled settled on his face as he watched you move, already opening his arms for you.

"What's wrong, bonnie?" He asked quietly, pulling you snuggly into his chest when you crawled into his lap.

"Can't sleep.." it came out slurred, sleep tugging at all of your limbs but never enough for you to slip into the sweet bliss of a dream.

"Y'want me tae just hold ya for a bit? See if tha' helps?" Johnny cooed, gently rubbing a hand along the length of your spine and over your shoulder blades. You nodded into his shoulder, tightly wrapping your arms around his middle.

"Mah sweet girl..." he whispered against your temple, his words melting deep into every crevice of your brain. Your body relaxed against him, your cheek pressed to his shoulder while your hands were pressed flat to his back.

The warmth radiating off of him and his large hands gently tracing shapes on your back usually put you to sleep in the blink of an eye, but today, for some reason, sleep was playing a cruel game with you, dangling a pleasant dream right in front of your face without ever letting you reach it.

You wanted to toss and turn, but Johnny's hold on you had you paralyzed. The trouble was that you didn't know whether it made it better or worse.

You could feel Johnny yawning more and more as the film went on and eventually came to an end.

The loud noises from various explosions and firefights gave you a headache, making you bury your face even deeper into his shoulder. You were glad it ended. Maybe it was the sole reason why you couldn't fall asleep in the first place.

The crease between your brows softened, and a quiet sigh slipped from your lips.

Unbeknownst to you, Johnny was smiling down at you, albeit sleepily as he was exhausted himself, but he couldn't help admiring you.

"Let's get tae bed, yeah?" He spoke quietly, pressing his lips against your temple.

You nodded against his shoulder, sliding off his lap and waiting for him to take the lead.

With your fingers intwined, Johnny gently dragged you along to your shared bedroom. But to your surprise and slight confusion, he made a stop in the kitchen.

"Johnny, what..." you mumbled, your brows scrunched together.

He gave you a soft yet dazzling smile and beckoned you to sit on the counter. You were past the point of complaining, so with his help, you slid onto the cold stone.

"You said ya can't sleep... so I'm makin' you somethin' my mam used tae make me when I was but a wee lad." He added a joking tone to his voice, presumably to lighten your spirits.

It coaxed a soft chuckled from your chest, and your hands went up to rub at your sleepy eyes.

He pulled open the fridge, the bright light making you squint, and took out a carton of milk.

"You, mah bonnie lass, get the luxury of milk from a carton. Had to milk the cows maself back then." He winked at you playfully, making you roll your eyes in turn.

"Sure you did, love." You snorted softly, watching him as he poured the milk into a mug and popped it in the microwave.

The soft hum of the appliance continued on while Johnny rummaged through the cabinet, pulling out a small glass jar.

"Ah, there it is." He declared triumphantly, showing off the container.

"I call it ma sleep elixir. Brought it all the way from home fer emergencies like this."

A golden, gooey mass shimmered in the glass. It looked like a recycled marmalade jar, labeled with a sticker that read;

for sweet dreams when you're missing home ♡

A soft smile pulled at your lips as you recognized the handwriting that, undoubtedly, belonged to Mrs. MacTavish.

She'd sent Johnny, as well as yourself, numerous post cards and letters in the past, so that signature swirl in her words made it easy to spot.

Johnny gently pressed the container into your hands, busying himself with trying to take the mug out off the microwave without burning his fingerprints off- although, the tactical advantage of that wouldn't be the worst, he supposed...

You inspected the small jar, carefully turning it in your hands to watch as the sugary crystals shimmered in the dim light.

Your gaze fell back on the label, gently stroking over it with your thumb.

"This is your mum's writing, yeah?" You asked softly, adoringly looking over the heart that was drawn with such care you could feel the love radiating off of it.

"Aye," he replied with a smile, taking a spoon from one of the drawers, "Mam loves the countryside. She'd drag me and mah sisters tae farmers markets all the time. And she'd always stock up on this here honey. Swears it was the only thin' that knocked me out so she could get a break." He snickered.

You chuckled in response. You loved Johnny, but lord knows if you could've handled him as an energetic rascal.

Gently handing him the precious glass, you watched as he scooped a spoonful of the honey out of the jar and plopped it down into the mug of warm milk.

"Now," he began, slightly leaning on the counter, "we stir clockwise, 9 times precisely." The serious quirk in his brow made you break into a sleepy fit of giggles.

"You're brewing a potion now, are you?" You tilted your head with a small grin.

"I'll become a wizard in the woods if tha' means ya get some sleep." He winked, tapping the spoon on the rim of the mug.

The spoon was tossed into the sink to find and clean up the next morning, something you would've scolded him for if you cared enough right now.

"Careful now. Might be a wee bit hot." John smiled softly, handing you the warm mug.

Of course it was a cheesy souvenir with a giant Scotland flag plastered on it. It was well worn and loved from the, borderline unhealthy, amounts of coffee Johnny had consumed from it, but it was dearly appreciated.

It had a chip here and there and the print was starting to abide by the rules of the dishwasher.

Although it was just a cup, the fact that he chose his cup made you smile, and your heart flood with warmth.

You raised the mug to your lips, taking a sip and letting the warm and sweet liquid trickle down your esophagus and into your belly.

"This is some good honey." You hummed, tasting the floral aroma of the liquid gold.

You could imagine meadows upon meadows of wildflowers of all kinds and the soothing buzzing of all those busy little bees that worked hard to make their honey.

What would it like to be so free? To buzz around and occasionally rest on the soft petal of a poppy.

"Ah told ya, didn't I? Mam knows what she's doin'." He chuckled, gently caressing the outside of your thighs.

"Do you want some?" You offered him the mug, only for him to decline with a gesture of his hand.

"I'll be out on the floor if Ah have a sip of tha'."

"That would suck." You agreed, continuing to sip on the milk.

"Aye. Ya need someone to keep you nice 'n cozy after all." He smirked, wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his chin on your head.

You giggled, the vibration against his throat sending a shiver down his spine.

"You're a wonderful cuddle buddy." At the warmth of his embrace your eyes began to fall shut.

"I'm glad ma services are to your satisfaction, my love." He joked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"'M tired.." you mumbled, resting your weight against him.

"Come on, bonnie." Johnny spoke softly, helping you off the counter, his mug a safe distance away from the edge to deal with in the morning.

His back was facing you as his hands stretched out behind him so he could guide you to your bedroom, your eyes feeling like they were glued shut.

The moment you slipped into that bed, everything that bothered you faded away.

You could swear the sheets felt softer than usual, your pillow was unusually fluffy, and as Johnny pulled the blanket over both of you, it was the perfect temperature beneath.

The window was cracked open for that bit of fresh air that made sleep that much more pleasant.

Despite Johnny's tendency to become a living furnace, he too, had the just the right amount of heat to keep you cozy but not too hot. Your face nuzzled into his chest gave you the perfect feeling of safety.

It felt like you were wrapped in clouds, basking under the sun, a nice breeze blowing over you with the taste of the sweet honey and the creamy milk still on your tongue.

You'd mentally thanked Johnny's mum for her remedy, something you couldn't wait to tell her on your next visit. Perhaps a thank you card for raising the love of your life would be in order as well.

With a contented sigh, your muscles relaxed and you sunk into the mattress. It was nice and quite, except for Johnny's loud breathing and the occasional snore, but the sound gave you a sense of comfort now.

Knowing that he was alive and breathing made you sleep much easier at night.

You opened one eye as much as you could and took a peak at Johnny, who was blissfully unaware and knocked out the second his head hit the pillow.

You smiled sleepily, gently rubbing your hand over his beating heart before pressing your lips to that same spot in a sweet kiss.

"Love you, Johnny." You mumbled, letting yourself finally slip away into a much needed rest.

The subconscious tightening of his hold on you let you know that no matter how many dreams you were apart, he'd always hear you, for your souls were intertwined and would find eachother every time.

Whether in this life or the next, nothing could tear the two of you apart.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The CoD fandom is lacking fluff in my opinion, so I'm here to provide 😌🩷

Should I make a CoD tag list??? 👀

More of my works -> 💫

#bumblebeesfromvenus #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #soap x reader #soap mw2 #soap mactavish #soap cod #john soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x you #johnny soap mctavish x reader #john soap x reader #john soap mctavish x you #cod x reader

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johnbrand · 5 months ago

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Call of Duty: Next Potential Chief

With @mrrharper

Inspired by nothing but boredom, Craig booted up his older brother’s console. If he found out that Craig was touching his stuff, his brother would have easily put him in the hospital. The two often fought, being on either end of the masculine spectrum. Craig, the liberal, more effeminate gay, had nothing in common with his conservative, ultra macho douchebag of a brother. Their fights were more or less his older brother shouting slurs at him for being girly, “a pussy” and “a fag," before landing numerous kicks and punches.

The home screen of the console displayed an array of games, most of which were the standard first person shooters. One however caught the short, slim boy’s eyes: Call of Duty: New Potential Chief. He was unfamiliar with any of the COD titles, but this one appeared to be new. At least, that’s what the small “NEW” banner above the icon hinted at. Intrigued, Craig decided to engage, opening the application. It took a while for the game to load, but eventually he was brought to the main menu.

Complete the Entry Campaign before joining online.

Craig assumed that was reasonable; he would have to endure a tutorial if he wanted to play the game properly. As soon as his finger accepted the prompt, a piercing electric shock paralyzed his entire body. Frozen, Craig now sat completely still as the screen continued forward, ready to engage its program.

Entry Campaign activated, downloading Physicality package…

The screen in front of Craig began to display multiple bars with different characteristics.

HEIGHT - 68/77 Units

WEIGHT - 152/200 Units

ADIPOSE TISSUE - 16/15%

MUSCULATURE - 23/85%

FEET - 8/15 Units

PHALLUS - 5/9 Units

The standardized inputs confused Craig at first, who although unable to move, still held some consciousness to the situation around him. After the first bones began to crack however, he began to understand the situation a bit more. Fearfully, Craig desperately attempted to move any portion of his body while tendons and ligaments shifted and expanded. As his HEIGHT bar slowly ticked further, Craig could literally hear himself stretching larger and larger, eventually reaching a height of 6’5.

Craig began to plead internally for escape as his muscles proceeded to bloat. His lanky body was quickly evolving, broadening with power. His calves and upper arms swelled, thickening with strength and testosterone. His quads widened, bolstering incredible durability along with his newly-prominent muscle gut. Craig’s seat expanded beneath him, plumping while his hardware opposite upgraded into a juicy 9 inches. Although still paralyzed, Craig’s legs were forcibly separated to accommodate the masculinized bundle, his soles inflating into obscenely large monsters.

Physicality package downloaded. Installing required MASCULINITY data points…

VOCAL HEIGHT - C5/D#4

VOCAL DEPTH - C#3/D2

FACIAL SHAPE - J

FACIAL HAIR - 2/61%

STRENGTH - 21/85%

AGGRESSION - 14/95%

Craig’s head naturally arched back as an emerging Adam’s apple distended from his neck, his vocal chords sculpting an uncommonly deep bass. His jaw was restructured as it jutted forward, stretching his nose and accentuating his brow along with it. A beard quickly grew in to cover the squaring shape, with dark hair flowing through Craig’s pits, down the sternum, across his crotch, and along his arms and legs.

Still fighting for release, Craig felt his inward ambition grow stronger, more offensive. In his mind, he had begun cursing the game, swearing to do unholy things to it and its creator once freed. His language and manner became cruder, brasher, and brutish–akin to his older brother’s demeanor that he had typically admonished. Craig's less analytical behavior distracted him from the the final set of downloads that were being made.

Finalizing Subordination supplements…

INTELLIGENCE QUOTIENT - 145/60 Units

INTERPRETATIVE ANALYSIS - 97/10%

EXECUTIVE SUBORDINATION - 0/100%

Initializing GAMEPLAY package, uploading TF4971-Wolf onto virtual network…

Without realization, Craig’s protests slowly became weaker and less deliberate. His specific remarks began to loosen, his targeted opinions evaporating as the progress bars ticked towards their end quotients. While his aggressive demeanor remained, Craig gradually lost the language he wished to use. Eventually, even his reasoning was wiped away, diluting his directed anger into simplistic barbarism.

Once his numbers matched the game’s standards, Craig’s brain was completely devoid of any independent thought. His head was cluttered with only the required media truly necessary. Images of loyal men, bulky men, masculine men in specific uniforms established only one precedent. Instructions on how to shoot, when to shoot, and who to shoot became his only scripture. His mind absorbed the gameplay, understanding its commands.

Now unable to process anything but the mission, TF4971-Wolf did not comprehend his teleportation into an online match in the game. He stood at one end of a battleground, surrounded by other men with the same objective. They all wore the same camo utility pants, thick jackets, and beige caps. They held the rifles they were all programmed to easily operate.

TF4971-Wolf did not question who he was, where he was, or even why he was as he proceeded towards the battleground. He was nothing more than a strong, masculine soldier NPC with permanent instructions to follow the COD programming and win the next match.

#gay to straight #male tf #male transformation #enforcement tf #dumbification #unintended results

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