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dutiful-wildcraft · 6 months ago

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Lies and Alibis

Part 3

Nikolai/Plus Size F!OC

Can be read as an OC or reader! I don't use names, she's fat and has hair long enough to grab!

This chapter came out much longer than I anticipated, please let me know if you enjoy <3

Tags: 18+, shower sex, blowjobs, light dom/sub, light dirty talk, a brief glimpse at pleasure dom! nikolai, don't look at me, i edited the best I could.

banner by @/une-femme-de-lettres

Their escape had been nothing like the harrowing, yet graceful exits as seen on the big screen. They run for their lives. Nikolai’s hand gripping her arm firmly enough to bruise as he guides her behind cover close beside him. She knows better than to stray, and despite being scared beyond belief she follows the hand that guides her without question. Eyes peeled and safety off.

It was going smoothly, until what had presumably been one guard turned into several, hidden away from view but very obviously alerted as Nikolai bashed the first man’s skull across a sleek marble pillar, leaving nothing but a bloody stamp and a loud enough echo to warrant gunfire in their direction. The sheer sound of it enough to deafen as concrete shattered into rubble and dust around them.

She stays behind him, keeping watch as Nikolai returns fire from around the corner in between shots. Eyes flickering to him with concern when he curses at the familiar click of an empty mag. He scrabbles for the extra tucked into his belt, eyes narrowing dangerously when she bat’s his hand away, shoving her own pistol into his hands and taking the other before shoving him back around. She makes quick work of plucking the extra mag from his belt herself, reloading it swiftly and presenting it to him when he turns again. Stars in his eyes, as he pulls it from her fingers. She couldn't trust her own aim, not with her trembling hands, but she could help. Keeping a firm hand latched to his belt and tugging him to safety when he was too distracted to move himself. Feeling a bit of pride at being his partner rather than damsel, at least to an extent.

There is a pause in shots, and in the quiet Nikolai snags her again, moving slow enough to match her pace, but keeping them low as they hit the door, ornately carved mahogany swinging open into the cold night air. They bolt, his hand in hers as they weave through vehicles in the oversized driveway, more gunfire piercing glass and metal in their wake.

Nikolai rounds the passenger side of a slick black vehicle, yanking open the door, and hoisting her in with little preamble, dumping her in the seat and slamming the door behind her. She scrambles to right herself, searching frantically for something, anything that could be beneficial. Her eyes falling to a set of keys with a dumb duck keychain placed graciously on the center floor mat. She dives just in time, a stray bullet carving out a large cracked crater in the back glass behind her head. Miraculously it holds steady, her brain remaining safely in her skull.

Bulletproof???

With no time to ponder, she shoves the keys into the ignition, twisting it hard as the engine comes to life around her. Right on time, Nikolai appears on the other side, swinging into the driver's seat and shifting in one smooth movement.

“Seatbelt.” he barks, foot hitting the gas hard enough to sling them both back against the seats. She does as she’s told, fumbling with the polyester band until it clicks into place, bouncing around roughly as Nikolai yanks the sporty SUV off-road for a clear path out.

A few more stray bullets ping off of the metal before the sound fades into the distance. With ringing ears and pounding heart, she cranes her neck to watch behind them. Greeted by nothing but the sight of trees whipping past them at a dangerous speed, Nik’s foot to the floor as they put distance between themselves and their enemies.

They stay quiet for a while, and she sags into the seats as the adrenaline fades into exhaustion. She doesn't bother asking where they’re going, at this point she reckons it doesn't matter, anywhere is better than where they were, and if the man wanted her dead he would have used her as a human shield amidst all the chaos. So she supposes she’s safe enough.

Instead they sit in silence, blazing a trail down desolate russian highway while the career criminal she finds herself saddled with shoots a text message with his free hand.

It’s not long before wilderness shifts into city lights, and a bit further still before they are pulling into an alley across from a plain looking deli.

Nikolai waits for her to fumble her way out of the passenger seat while he roots through the trunk. She stands, bare foot and shivering as Nikolai drags a large briefcase towards himself, digging through the contents and reloading his handgun before slipping it back into his belt, adding another pistol for safe measure before he reaches back and procures a well worn brown bomber jacket. Wordlessly he closes the trunk, gesturing for her to turn as he helps her into the oversized garment.

It’s perfect, surprisingly big enough to accommodate her size, and well worn, the leather soft and workable with her movements, with just enough weight to will the cool breeze off her skin. She tucks her hands into the sleeves, nosing at the collar as inconspicuous as she could, breathing in the warm spice of cologne and something she could only label as work. Like warm skin and metal, a musk that was pleasant, and unique to the wearer.

He guides her across the street, hand on her lower back and head on swivel as he swings open the glass door, locking it behind them and swapping the sign in the window around to “closed” in one smooth movement. The young man on the other side of the counter takes one look at Nikolai before he’s rambling. Nervous russian falling from his lips as he bustles around the counter, seemingly bidding them adieu before yanking off his apron and disappearing behind the thick plastic curtains behind the counter, door slamming in the distance in a hasty exit.

She watches quietly, tucked in her nice warm jacket as Nikolai makes a round through the place, checking corners and yanking the blinds down of the large windows that line the establishment. She waits patiently for the all clear before she moves.

“Is there a medical kit around here?”

They both look like hammered hell, covered in dust and bruises. Blood still crusts her hair, and he's got quite the shiner over his left eye, along with a myriad of other cuts.

Nik blinks at her for a moment as he finishes up.

“Behind the counter, in the office.” he gestures, easing himself down onto cheap wooden seat of a dining booth.

She nods, padding around the counter, quickly realizing that this too was a front for something. A clean shotgun rests under the glass counter, just below the lunch meat and out a view, another handgun sits against the far counter, tucked neatly beside a napkin dispenser. She’s surprised the food itself is real, but she supposed gangster’s get hungry too. How cliche, she muses to herself.

She silently notes the weapons, moving on to scan the small store room that doubled as a surveillance office, another pistol left lazily next to the computer.

They really shouldn't leave these laying around.

She could take it, make a run for it. As if she would get far on bare feet and skimpy satin dress in a foreign country. No. She had gotten into this mess. The least she could do was make amends, patch him up, and pray that would be enough to earn her another day.

He would be disappointed if you ran, another voice reminds her. As if the man would be anything but mildly inconvenienced that his chubby captive got away.

Was she even captive? He hadn't told her she couldn't leave, but he hadn't exactly given her a pass to skedaddle either. Maybe he liked having her around. Maybe as much as she liked being around him herself. She banishes the idea before the train cars of thoughts begin crashing into each other, quickly switching to pilfering through drawers instead, nearly squealing with excitement when she finds the blessed med kit.

She emerges with her supplies, smiling to herself as she spots Nik, his head resting uncomfortably against the cool concrete wall, eyes closed as he rests. She approaches, calling his name softly before shaking his shoulder. He cracks an eye at her.

“C'mon big guy, let me fix you up.”

He furrows his brows at her, an apprehensive look on his face, but she only lifts her own brow expectantly, making a grabby hand at him until he complies, easing himself up and toward the table she'd made her makeshift medical office.

She preps up, washing her hands thoroughly and slipping on latex gloves. She lays her supplies out with efficiency and crowds back into his space, gingerly, and perhaps unnecessarily nudging his knees apart to stand close.

He watches her curiously, heading craning to keep an eye on her face as she nears, instructing him wordlessly to tilt back with gentle fingers beneath his chin.

She warns him quietly before cleaning his wounds, wiping away crusted blood from his cuts and bruises with a warm cloth and antiseptic. He reaches out, resting two big palms comfortably against her hips. Not groping, just resting, only moving one hand away slightly when she has to grab another item from the table beside them, replacing it easily when she shifts back.

“Are you a doctor?”

“Something like that.” she murmurs, pretending to be enraptured with the task at hand.

He only hums, big brown eyes watching her idly as she works.

“You're being very brave.” she teases, distracting him from both his thoughts and the sting of disinfectant that has his fingers twitching against her soft curves.

He huffs through his nose, closing his eyes as she pulls his face toward the light to get a better look. He lets her guide him with ease, seemingly relishing in the gentle hands directing him.

“Do I get something sweet at the end?” he ventures, cracking open his good eye to peer up at her.

She snorts, “Only if you behave, but you're awful handsy for a patient.”

“Needed something to squeeze” he pouts, squeezing her hips again for added effect. She has half a mind to flick his ear for being a shithead.

She refrains, letting him close his eyes again, looking quite proud of himself when he adds, “and I can be very well behaved.”

“Somehow I find that hard to believe” she drawls, tucking loose strands of dark hair behind his ear as she cleans his temple.

He does behave, mostly. Sitting still as stone as she applies a few stitches to the corner of his busted brow. The only sign of his discomfort is the dull ache of his fingers where they dig into the meat of her hips. A pain he massages away gently in silent apology when she's finished.

He seems like a sweetheart, but this giant is anything from gentle based on what she'd seen.

Yet, he holds her with a softness that makes her chest ache. His hand having been almost permanently affixed to her for a better part of the night. Not controlling, not in a way that made her want to gnaw her arm in escape. But protective, stern and sure in a way that had her following behind him regardless of the danger. Which in and of itself should be troublesome to her exhausted mind. She’s done enough thinking for one night.

She's wrapping his knuckles when a door slams somewhere behind the restaurant. She stands quickly, scissors in hand, ready to protect her patient as a figure saunters from the back.

Nikolai is quick to catch her, snagging her hand easily and unperturbed, slipping the scissors from her grasp as the stranger saunters into the restaurant. His face is covered, a black neck gaiter pulled over his mouth, and black hat drawn down low over his features. The man is more lean than Nikolai, a hair shorter too, with strong arms under a plain black t shirt, handgun and blade strapped to either thigh. He only spares her a glance, as if her presence was nothing new or out of place.

“Sebastian” Nikolai calls, his greeting ignored as the man before him launches directly into questions, voice low and calm and distinctly german. Her ears perk at the change. She knows german. She'd taken enough classes in undergrad to make conversation.

Only Nikolai must have noticed, because he slides his big stupid paws over her ears from behind. Mindful of her own bandages as his fingers drum pleasantly along her scalp, effectively drowning out any noise as the two men converse.

She doesn’t bother fighting it. It’s probably for her own good anyway, but she does sigh loudly, crossing her arms in a show of displeasure. She wasn’t a snitch. Not that they knew that, but still.

She should be terrified, for all she knows these two were discussing where to hide her corpse when they were done with it. Yet, she couldn’t even get herself to buy that one, nothing about Nikolai's demeanor towards her had suggested ill intent, and she doubted he’d let the man in front of her hurt her either. What a strange trust to have in a man you’ve just met.

Lots of serial killers had charisma, her brain supplies helpfully. As if it mattered now. She was either going to die back there, die in the woods, or die here. She only hoped they'd at least make it quick. But despite her brain’s incessant worrying she couldn't bring herself to truly believe it.

Instead she yawns, pulling her eyes away from the german in front of her and scanning the shop, taking in the outdated tile and old yellowed menu above the counter. She hadn't eaten since before the mansion incident, and she could feel the symptoms of low blood sugar beginning to buzz up her fingertips.

Her eyes fall to the counter, stomach gurgling as she looks over the varying boxes of sweets behind the glass, plastic wrapped snack cakes and cookies that looked heavenly under the shitty fluorescent lighting.

Nikolai lowers his hands once the conversation ends, keeping one palm along her shoulder while he fishes around in his pocket, passing his keys off to the masked man who simply nods to them as he slinks back outside.

She barely notes the exchange, too busy crafting up Operation: Steal That Snack Cake, when his voice startles her, thick with amusement as he follows her line of sight.

“Are you hungry?”

She’d meant to interrogate him, but her words are difficult, hunger making her fuzzy and borderline irritable, best to save the questions for later when she can think straight. She tilts her head back, trying to play it cool.

“A little bit”

He only laughs, rounding the corner and digging out one of the cakes in crinkly plastic before tossing it to her. She wastes no time tearing into it, and it's almost painful how good it is after a very long, no good night. It's something chocolatey and fluffy and delicious.

“Would you eat a sandwich?”

Fuck yeah. She nods again, murmuring out a soft ‘yes please’ between bites, cringing a bit on the inside about stuffing her face and still asking for more food, but he actually looks relieved. Pulling out a mountain of lunch meat, veggies, and condiments, assembling his own sandwich and looking to her for confirmation on what she’d like on hers. He even cuts it up and wraps it up nicely for her. Plopping the bag with both of their meals into her lap before heading toward the back.

“Beer?”

“You got tequila?”

He pauses, taken aback for a moment before his face splits into that pretty smile once again.

“Da, I've got tequila,” he laughs warmly, lumbering behind the plastic curtains and reemerging with a chilled bottle of golden liquid. He tosses it into another bag, as well as the whole box of snack cakes as he passes, patting her hip gently as he nods toward another door.

“This way, upstairs, much more comfy.” he explains, holding the door open for her as she scuttles after him.

–

The above apartment is modest and clean, a large sectional sitting in the middle of the room, with a good sized coffee table and tv, the open floor plan allowing for a clear line of sight into the kitchen; a hallway veering off in between. The walls are suspiciously bare, and nothing but take out menus adorn the simple fridge. A large brown duffel sits in the corner.

Not a bad hideout.

It’s not long before they’re both perched on the couch, legs sprawled, warm with liquor and munching away on the best god damn sandwich she’s had in her life while some trash tv plays in front of them. She can't understand what's being said, but she catches enough to give a sensible chuckle here and there. Perhaps more amused by the sheer absurdity of her current situation.

Just a few hours ago, she had a champagne glass in her hand, followed by a handsome criminal, a gun to the face, and her first “self defense” kill. Her body hurts, and she feels so tired she could sleep on the couch just like this, but despite it all she’s calm, unreasonably calm. Comfortable, even.

She looks at the table. Hoagies, snack cakes and a bottle of tequila between them, before glancing at Nikolai, scruffy cheeks full of sandwich. He looks back sheepishly, eyes flickering between her and the table as well. His lips curling up slowly before they both break out into goofy giggles.

They laugh like that for a moment, bellies full and warm, settling back against each other with cheeks sore from smiling.

“I’m sorry I fucked up your thing” she tells him in the quiet, her head resting against the mans bulky shoulder. She peers up at him to show the true remorse behind her eyes, his own expression soft yet indifferent.

“It’s not ideal,” he shrugs, “shit happens.”

“Will your boss be mad?”

He snickers a bit to himself. “You don’t need to worry about him” he chides, pulling himself up out the cushions, stretching on stiff legs.

“I’m going to rinse off. Be good.” he warns.

Oh, but she had no intentions of doing that. She was warm and full with a dash of liquid courage, and despite the night's events she didn't forget why she had tucked herself against the bear of a man in the first place. He was gorgeous, even with a split lip and bruising eye, and if anything that made him more attractive. It’s too late to bite the words back as they fall from her mouth, sweet and playful.

“You need help with that too?”

He pauses, turns towards her again, a brow raised in challenge as a predatory smile curls his lips.

“Can you behave?” he asks condescendingly, mimicking her earlier accusation.

Oh.

“Yes” she quips back pleasantly. An innocent tone that they both knew to be bullshit, her excited smile a mile wide as he beckons her to him.

“Come along.” he chuckles, turning away as she scrambles after him.

–

She’s too giddy as they slide into the small bathroom together, ogling his ass as Nikolai leans in, turning the water on and testing the temperature before peeking over his shoulder at her. Catching her in the act.

“Are you going to bathe in that?” He eyes her up and down with mischief.

Shit head.

She lifts her chin a bit in pride, making a show of taking off her jewelry piece by piece, shrugging his coat from her shoulders and hanging it with care before tugging her hair away from the zipper at her back. Turning to with a playfully lidded gaze. “Help me?”

He nods wordlessly, standing close enough that she can feel his breath against her temple. He bushes a few stray hairs away from her nape, curling a free hand against the handle of her hip. Rough knuckles brushing against her skin, drawing a shiver from her as he tugs the zipper down nice and slow to the small of her back.

He only scoots closer once his task is finished, dragging his knuckles back up the curve of her spine and down again as he noses behind her ear, pressing a slow kiss there that steals the air from her lungs. He hums against her skin there, pressing more slow kisses along her neck, hands sneaking up to push the straps of her dress down her shoulders.

The fabric slips down easily, pooling around her ankles in a satin heap that he carefully tugs her out of, spinning her in his arms as he does. With his hands securely against her waist he leans back just a bit, his honey colored eyes raking over every inch of her with a look that could only be described as awe.

He wastes little time, catching her face between his palms and crashing his lips to hers. She meets him eagerly, nails dragging over his chest as he devours her with hungry kisses, groping and squeezing at every inch of her skin. She yanks the buttons of his shirt open, hands eagerly sliding over his warm soft skin, giggling with delight as she’s met with the brush of soft hair beneath her palms.

“Fucking, perfect man.” she pants, trying to catch her breath as Nikolai groans, a please sound rumbling from his lips as he goes for her throat, drenching her in sloppy kisses and love bites, his fingers dragging up to grope at her breasts, thumbs toying with her nipples as she gasps and squirms. She’s soaked. Just from a few kisses and soft caresses, slick pooling and coating her thighs. Dripping onto the counter below.

“We’re wasting the water” she huffs, trying and failing to push the shirt from his shoulders as he promptly ignores her, sliding his hands below the swell of her ass and lifting her with a soft grunt, plopping her on the cold porcelain sink, making her yelp. She’d be impressed with how managed to lift her if he hadn’t immediately sank lower, sucking a nipple into his mouth, tongue lapping and twisting around the pert skin before he swaps to the other. He moves back and forth, biting and pinching, suckling greedily until they ache between his teeth. She pushes at him, yanking at his shirt with a whine. Desperate to have him as bare as she is. He takes the hint, muscles flexing as he pulls the shirt off his shoulders and tosses it. Leaving him in nothing but a glimmering gold chain and well fitted slacks that had her brain short circuiting.

Good lord, they build them different in Russia.

He was a bulky thing, all well toned muscle under a soft layer of fat that added a delicious curve to his belly and tits. His skin covered in a layer of thick black hair that swirled and snaked its way over his chest and down his stomach, tapering off into a lovely trail that disappeared below his belt.

It’s her that tugs this time, grabbing at that pretty little chain to pull his lips back to hers, whimpering softly as he nips her lip for her pushy behavior. She’s drunk on him, his smell, his taste, his growls and moans. She grinds against him, cunt soaking the hair below his navel as she desperately seeks friction. Friction that he slyly denies her, angling himself away just slightly. It’s another moment before she’s fussing, straining to whip the belt from his hips, and tug the fly down. The angle too awkward for her to continue; she gives up, instead attempting to use her feet and ankles to push his pants down his hips in a way that has them both laughing.

He pats her thigh, stepping away slightly with a chuckle against her lips before pushing his slacks and underwear down in one smooth movement, cocking bobbing in the air before her.

And it’s just as perfect as the rest of him, thick and uncut, precome soaking his tip, glossy and pink. It makes her mouth water. And she must be blinking like a cartoon coyote, hearts in her eyes, because he looks quite proud of himself, smiling smugly, eyes trained on her drooling pussy.

“You need a taste Milaya?” he coos, reaching a hand to slide against the inside of her spread thighs, knuckle ghosting over the seam of her sex. Holding her down as she bucks into the touch. “Come get it then.”

The pile into the shower together, the hot spray making them both hiss. They hold each other desperately, a tangle of hands and searing kisses that leave both of their lips swollen. He lets the water soak them both before directing her out of the spray.

She goes down nice and easy, soft hands sliding lovingly against his flanks as she sinks down, trailing kisses that has his stomach jumping beneath her lips. And she must look pretty on her knees, because he can’t stop smiling, pretty brown eyes warm and soft as he eases closer, twisting a free hand into her hair as he takes hold of his cock with the other, tapping it sweetly against her round cheek.

“Open for me sweet girl, that’s it”, he coos, and her brain goes fuzzy at the praise, mouth parting obediently as he slips his head past her lips. She sinks closer, testing how far she can go, humming softly at the stretch, earning her a moan from the man above her, hand tugging gently at her hair as she hollows her cheeks and pulls off with a pop. She’d need to work her way up a bit before taking him fully, and she was determined to do it. She gently bats his hand away, threading her fingers in his to rest against his hip as the other takes hold of his length, shifting slightly on her knees as she gets to work.

She noses along his shaft, pressing slick kisses along his length. Running her tongue from base to tip before treating his drooling tip to more kitten licks, smearing the salty slick across her tongue before taking him again fully. Bobbing slowly as she works to swallow him down. She works up a good rhythm, gagging slightly as she pushes him to kiss the back of her throat, but she pauses, tears stinging her eyes as she forces herself to wait, daring to look up at him while she breathes through her nose.

His eyes are blown, chest and neck flushed hot and pink. “So good for me.” he praises, thumb petting against her scalp. “Let me help you.”

He pulls their fingers apart after a soft squeeze, placing her hands against his thighs to brace herself as he takes her face between his hands. He pulls back, smearing his slick across her lips before pushing back in, working his hips in slow thrusts, cock sinking into the heat of her mouth over and over until she’s whimpering and moaning, tears staining her cheeks and desperate for more. He lets her breathe a moment before picking up speed, fucking her mouth in earnest. She’s lost in it. Skin burning and pussy aching desperately to be touched. She won’t touch, not until she’s earned it. Not until he’s pulsing against her tongue.

She takes him, fingers digging into his thighs as he grunts and moans, holding her tenderly while he fucks her, pushing her as he sinks his cock down her throat, holding her steady while she gags and chokes, mascara and drool spilling down her cheeks and chin. He pulls out quickly praising and petting her, the words sinking into the cotton of her brain sweetly.

“Almost done my love, look at you, being so good. Need you to breathe nice and deep for me, Milaya.” he purrs, petting her hair from her face, and she does, sucking in a deep lung full. Pretty pink tongue on display as he sinks in deep once again, cock sliding down her throat again. He holds her steady as rocks into her with slow languid thrusts. Training her to take it before he picks up speed.

He’s talking now, low and too quick for her to understand, though it sounds like praise, and that's enough for her to relax even more, granting him further access. He moans as he sinks in just a bit more. Obscene noises echo through the room as his hand curls through the wet strands at the base of her skull. His hips start to stutter and with a low growl he pushes her nose into the soft black curls of his base, spilling hot and heavy down throat. His knees nearly buckling as she swallows around him greedily.

He doesn’t let her go until she’s taken every last drop, pulling his cock from between her lips as she collapses against his thighs with choked gasp. She’s all but gone, floating pleasantly as he hauls her up, licking into her mouth and humming at the taste of himself against her tongue. She whimpers brokenly, the dull ache in between her legs tugging at her muddled brain insistently.

“Nikolai.”

“I know Zolotse, I didn’t forget about you.” he murmurs softly, peppering her face with kisses before turning her around, letting the warm water splash against her chest.

He gropes at her, palming her tits, rolling her nipples between his fingers and squeezing at the soft rolls of her skin, gliding his hands down her thighs, thumbs brushing just shy of her sex that has another desperate whine falling from her. He follows the pattern a few more times, working her up thoroughly before sliding his fingers through her sodden folds. She lets out a small cry, rolling her hips against his fingers as he draws loose circles around her swollen clit.

“Just needed someone to take care of you, didn't you Lisichka? My clever girl. Picked me out of a crowd didn't you?” he chuckles, sinking a thick digit inside, the glide so easy and hot that he sinks in another, splitting her open on his fingers, and grinding his palm against her bundle of nerves. She’s trembling already, pussy drenching his hand as he pumps into her wet heat.

She grabs his wrist for purchase, rolling her hips into his palm, desperate little cries falling from her lips as he pinches and pulls at her already abused nipples. Gummy walls sucking his fingers in hungrily, pulsing in a warning of what's to come.

He grips her throat, not hard enough to cut off air, just to guide her back, forcing her to look into his eyes as he fucks her stupid with only his hand.

“Is that good? Did my cock down your throat make you this messy?” he coos down at her, brown eyes impossibly tender as he works into her.

She can only nod, words lost in the dizzying haze of her mind. He doesn’t speak, only pulls his fingers out, striking her cunt with a wet slap that has her jerking in his grip. Not hard enough to truly hurt, but enough to get her talking. She spits out a desperate yes, and he presses a satisfied kiss to her forehead, soothing her again with more sweet swirling circles against her clit.

It’s too much, being surrounded by this man, his strong hand against her throat, calloused fingers curling into her over and over. She’s so close, the heat of her impending orgasm coiling tight in her belly. Fueled by honey brown eyes gazing intently into hers.

“That’s it, just like that, let me have it Zaya, yes” he hisses as she seizes against him. Body trembling harshly as her orgasm rips through her, pitiful broken cries falling from her as he holds her steady, slowing his ministrations to soft slow circles, working her clit continuously until she slams her thighs together, squirming to get away.

She paws weakly at his hand until he pulls away, wrapping his arms around her as he shifts her to slump against him.

The metal of his chain is cool against her temple as she rests against his chest. She holds him close, arms barely able to encircle all of his bulk as she rubs his back soothingly, pressing sweet little kisses to his chest, hair tickling her there.

Kisses he returns just as generously, pulling her up to steal more soft kisses from her lips, murmuring praise after praise in between. She smiles, warm and hazy at the man in her arms.

“Thank you” she whispers dopily.

“Thank you.” he returns, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Going to clean us up, okay?”

She nods, letting him do so with little fanfare, scrubbing her hair, and running a soft wash cloth over her skin, careful with the tenderness between her legs before they’re both out into the swirling mist of the bathroom, standing patiently as he pats them both down with a fluffy towel. He wraps her in a bath sheet that actually covers her soft body, and he returns a moment later, helping her shimmy into a, oversized striped shirt and sweatpants that hug her hips a bit too snuggly for her liking. But they’re soft and smell like Nikolai.

Not to mention he looks chuffed.

Of course he would, the dog. Fucking her senseless and putting her in his clothes.

After they’re both dressed and re-bandaged, they sit together on the large sofa, warm and relaxed. Where he tucks her back into the nest of his side, his arm curled around her once more, thumbing lightly at the hills and valleys of her skin.

She’s safe, protected under her blanket and nestled against Nikolai. Sleep sinking deep into her bones as another warm kiss is pressed to her hair.

#nikolai x reader #nikolai cod #call of duty #nikolai belinski #a wild krueger appears!#did yall know he's technically chimera??#lies and alibis #wildcraft writing #nikolai x oc

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