fluoride - a countryhumans smut-shot book

- soviet x uk

warning the following story contains
subspace, mirror kinks, praise and degradation kinks, masturbation, bottom soviet bc hes a bottom, ghost sex???, idk soviet's a ghost and uk isn't, friends w/ benefits (?), mutual pining, hey guys i actually made porn with plot!, blowjob, implied ireland x finland, and implied blood kink towards the end (but no actual shit)

uk's pov

could ghosts go into subspace?

see, this is one of the many strange awkward questions he had for the ghost of his childhood best friend that often went unasked.
because while they had the rest of eternity to talk about it, it's one of those things that will just end in awkward silence and passing glances.
so, it goes the same. he'll think about some of the kinks he has, jerk off because fucking duh, he's horny, soviet will find him, they'll fuck, act like nothing happened the next morning, and then the cycle repeats.
so, without the knowing of the other half, it had become a personal mission to send soviet into subspace.
he's tried many things to put him in the exact right headspace. mirror sex (jack likes to believe soviet got pretty close to subspace, but not quite there), degradation (that was pretty hot), some of the kinks soviet told him about, some of the kinks he told soviet about, and a mix of the bunch. but nothing so far has really pushed him over the edge to quite there.
so, jack has but one option left.
praise.
while jack prides himself in having made a sexual partner cum three times before himself praise is, admittedly, a weak point in that wall.  (as france and east germany had both accidentally discovered)
soviet is very used to that version of him. so even if the praise is coming from jack himself, he knows it'll push him over the edge embarrassingly fast. (as soviet will accidentally learn, he probably finds it a little bit hotter when he himself is praising.)
so when jack gets home that night, he mentally prepares himself for the embarrassment coming (pun intended) night.
"hey jack, how was work?"
he sighed unintentionally.
"long, i hate the un facilities. all they do is make me worry about political officials that i have nothing to do with,"
soviet hummed, scrolling through the phone uk had given him.
"i made a twitter account. why do so many people have my sigil in the name?"
jack hummed.
"communism is a weird thing now. i'll explain it on an internet deep dive one day,"
...
"okay i'm addressing the elephant in the room, what's up with you?"
jack flushed.
"it's nothing. i'm going upstairs,"
soviet popped back up in front of him.
"nope, not that easily. you literally are the only person that believes i'm real and will talk to me, you're going to tell me or you'll kill yourself in annoyance and then be stuck with me forever,"
he rolled his eyes.
"bloody hell sovi, just piss off and go teach yourself more about the internet,"
and he's been left alone at last.
this part is the awkward part, isn't it?

jack bit the back of his hand.
"fuckin' hell.."
"hi uk- nevermindokaygoodbye-"
he quickly grabbed the translucent sleeve of the other country.
"uhm- can you, stay..?"
he stared down at him.

"fuck- god, you are desperate, you're not even drunk yet!"
jack licked up the side of his neck, effectively shutting the other up.
soviet watched with wide eyes as the shorter man moved on top of him, straddling his hips.
"mm-"
"fuck, i love when you're vocal doll, so good for me,"
oh.
oh my god.
before he really had a thought on the matter, soviet was under uk, who was still muttering constant praise.
uk turned him towards the mirror and suddenly he felt suspended and open.
soviet felt himself slipping off an edge, into what, he didn't know.
jack pushed him down and his legs shook, and then pulled him up into a loose fist.
"fuck baby, my perfect little fucking cock sleeve. look at yourself in the mirror, so pretty,"
tears streamed down his face. what the fuck? that's new.
he couldn't move his body. every twitch felt like work and thoughts weren't coming properly.
he hiccuped through tears and pulled his head up.
"'s.. mm hard.."
jack kissed his neck.
"i know honey, but look,"
he met jack's eyes in the mirror.
"look at my good boy.. so pretty.. such a pretty fucking slut, aren't you? say it baby, you're a pretty slut, aren't you?"
he gasped between words, but his brain felt like liquid and everything just felt good.
"'m not.. a slut.."
a particularly hard thrust to his prostate wasn't helping his case, as the pathetic moan he let out was, well, as aforementioned.
jack tightened his fist.
"wan' it faster.."
the command wasn't followed, but he instead got it harder.
"god, fuck sovi, close-"
that snapped him a bit out of his trance.
"bu.."
"i'm sorry baby, fuck, inside?"
he nodded as the shorter man bit his neck.
and with that jack was finished, he slid soviet off him and got on his knees, forcing the man in his mouth, but not after an order.
"watch yourself, baby. watch yourself in the mirror,"
and so soviet did, he watched as his thighs spasmed and toes curled when jack scraped the underside of his dick with his teeth.
"'ack, m' 'lose.."
soviet whined, hands reaching for leverage that came in the form of his own crescent-indented palms.
he looked back down from the mirror and made eye contact with the man below him.
it always had to end with this weird chemistry, didn't it?

"king, you right? you've been out of it,"
tiredly, the unionized country looked towards the irishman addressing him.
"i'm fine. tired from hearing you and finland,"
ireland flushed a deep shade and england whooped behind him.
"fucking lip! don't just take that, ire!"
scotland yawned.
"it's true, mate. didn't get a wink,"
ireland just huffed and shuffled away to his desk.

can ghosts bleed?

-

hi sorry for being gone for a year i found out i'm aceflux but i'm on meds that make my hormones all wonky and shit so have horny countries. i hope i did the british slang well i am but a yankee doodle in this macaroni world.

-casse