#nik cod x reader

[gothghostiie]

small drabble about something @pricegotmedickmatized and I talked about that refused to leave my brain

cw: implied age gap, free use, voyeurism, mild humiliation, fingering, oral, objectification, talk about boot humping; spanking; anal, porn without plot, fem!afab!reader

Nikolai was always a fan of PDA. whether it's holding your hand, slinging an arm around you, kissing your cheek to get you all flustered or smacking your ass to show some asshole who was staring at you a bit too much who you belong to, slipping fingers up your skirt to tease you; anything he can get away with in public. he can't keep his hands off of you - and why would he? you're his sweetheart, his sunshine, his favourite toy. if it wasn't for social norms he'd constantly be inside you, some way or another. but he can't, obviously. can't just bend you over in public and have his way with you, even if that's his absolute dream: having you anywhere, any way he wants.

this is how this whole thing started.

the idea of free use was always appealing - considering you were always horny (and if you weren't already, you always would be within a second of him touching you), he was always all over you, whether it be his hands, lips or more. so he suggested something: free use. you pretty much beamed when he suggested it. he was surprised by how quickly and eagerly you agreed to it, but who was he to say no? so you got together and had a long talk, set up boundaries, rules, do's and don'ts and it quickly became your new normal.

bending you over the dresser first thing in the morning to get rid of his morning wood.

having you bounce on his dick at the breakfast table while he had his coffee and read the news.

groping you all over the second you get out of the shower.

shoving fingers inside you while you were trying to do chores.

having you suck his dick while he did some paperwork in his office.

cockwarming him while eating dinner together.

having him get down on his knees behind you and sticking his head under your skirt while you did the dishes.

all down to a sleepy cuddlefuck when you go to bed together.

its heaven, really. but its not enough. not for nikolai anyway.

he kept going with rules like 'always wear skirt or dresses around me' or 'no more panties around the house'. you happily oblige, because god, why wouldn't you? this hunk of a man was fucking you seven ways to Sunday, who in their right mind would complain about this?

but it's still not enough. he's let the primal, stupid animal inside him wake up and now its growling for more. whenever the two of you go out for groceries, hang out with friends, go out on dates, he had to restrain himself from just taking what he wants. sure, he fucked you out in the car afterwards every time without fail, but its not enough. pining you down under his weight in the backseat of his SUV and hearing you yelp and gasp for breath between hoarse, pathetic begging was never enough.

it starts with him feeling you up while hes on the phone to Laswell. waving you over and copping a feel of your ass while talking about an upcoming OP. it takes you by surprise, but you don't mind it - Kate didn't see and surely didn't hear the way you gasp at the fingers digging into your fat.

it got a little further when he decided to call you into his office while on a face time call - some other high ranks or whatever, you tend to not listen when you overhear whatever they're talking about - and gestures for you to stand behind the cam and pull your shirt up for him.

it goes even even further when John is visiting the two of you. sitting on the couch across from Nikolai, not even batting an eye when he calls you over and makes you bend over his lap. your face heats up and you quietly ask what he's doing, but you don't get an answer. what you do get is 2 of Nik's fingers plunged deep into your cunt without warning, making you see starts as he starts to curl them. your mouth falls open and your eyes widen, a fleeting, embarrassed gaze at John, but he just raises an eyebrow and smirks. Nikolai grunts, something about your underwear, something about manners, something that will get you spanked later, but you can barely listen as you try to process.. this. but you can't. you simply can't. you're bent over your boyfriend's lap, having your hole fingered open while his best friend watches - and you swear you've never been this wet. a bit of shame mixes in with the pleasure and shock, but the feeling is so overwhelming that you just let it happen - you can talk later, after you've came your brains out in front of Price.

but you don't talk about it. you don't mention it and neither does he - and it makes him bold. makes him think he can do whatever he wants with you.

and he can. unfortunately. bastard.

you realise this pretty quick after the little incident. he doesn't bother to keep quiet when you jerk him off on call. he doesn't bother to make sure your bobbing head is out of the shot while facetiming business partners. doesn't bother to make sure no one hears your slutty moans when he bends you over in your friend's bathroom. and no one bats an eye.

not even when he told you to to cockwarm him in front of the whole 141.

"Get in my lap, malyshka. c'mon, no need to be shy now. they're our friends, they can see how good of a toy you are." and you do, for some God forsaken reason. you pull your pants down as you stare at him, just enough so he has space to pick a hole and make you sink down on his soft cock. that's how casual it is to him, he's not even hard. and the others just watch, continuing their conversation. of course he told them about beforehand, they're not surprised - but he's determined to take it even further.

he keeps it up, slowly establishing you as his cocksleeve, his fleshlight, his toy; around his friends. has you walking around topless when at home, no matter if the blinds are open, no matter who's around. doesnt care to be subtle about slipping his fingers under your skirt during game night with your friends, pulls you onto his cock during movie night. its so casual within just weeks of him doing this, his friends dont mind the loud moans, the high pitched squeals, the wet squelching sounds your loose holes make.

but its not enough. it's never enough, why stop when no one stops him? he wants - has to see how far you will let him go. how far others will let him go. so he does.

he starts bringing you to base - just keeping you around at first, the occasional slap on your ass in front of people, but nothing wild. that's the first few days at least, before he brings the no underwear rule to work. along with the skirt and dresses only rule. has you standing by his office chair, hand under your skirt, pumping into your asshole slowly while some Sergeant delivers files to him. watches you tremble and shake, opening his mouth to speak, but Nikolai speaks first.

"just my toy. don't mind her."

its what he tells everyone. its what he tells the private who walks in on you kneeling under Nikolais desk.

it's what he tells the medical that walks in on nikolai playing with your tits and torturing your poor little nipples.

its what he tells the Lieutenant that catches you pathetically rubbing your pussy against Nikolais boot.

it's what he tells the group of privates that he's spanking you in front of as you beg for his forgiveness, showcasing what happens if someone misbehaves.

its even what he tells the General, that walks in on you bent over the desk, tits squished flat against it, mouth wide open with fat crocodile tears streaming down your cheeks while Nikolai bullies your cervix with his fat tip.

just my toy. don't mind her.

[lyeofhell]

hey just so you know your protests and claims of being “too big” mean absolutely nothing and Nikolai would 100% flirt with you by pulling you into his lap while he sits in his pilot seat. he just will not hear it; the man needs an excuse to get his hands on you, now, and what better way to do that than to show you the ropes? maybe he’d light a cigarette and let you press all kinds of important buttons, whispering commands and nibbling on your earlobe to work a shy little giggle out of you — his way of working you open and warming you up. and something deep stirs in him at the sight of you playing, of following his orders; Nik’s exhaling clouds and smirking with his chin tucked over your shoulder, puffs curling into your face when he wraps his big bear paws around your hands and shows you how to steer. he’s got you squirming in his lap, soft thighs clenched together, anxiously fidgeting the closer his mouth gets to your skin. he coos graveled praise against your ear when you pull on the cyclic stick just right because you just listen so well…soft girls like you are good at listening, no? you think so? why don’t you show me how good you can listen, hm? part your legs, printsessa.

so yeah just so you’re like aware or whatever

[drgnflyteabox]

a little continuation of this. john price x cashier fem!reader. verbal abuse, anxiety, yelling, hurt/comfort, price comes to your retail rescue<3<3 1.4k words

The only good part of a 5am wakeup is watching the sunrise slowly climb the sky.

There’s a quiet sort of tiredness that lets you appreciate it more — and though the lot associates have made a joke about the morning crew and their sunrise photos, there’s an element of truth there that’s both funny and a little beautiful.

It’s a drag to wait outside the doors for a manager to open them, trying not to make eye contact with the early-bird oldies and the impatient contractors who think they should just be allowed in before everyone else based on the amount of money they spend.

When the doors open and the 6am hardware warriors stroll in, ready and chipper, you’re half asleep leaning against your counter.

Another good thing about the early shift is the lack of uptight managers. None of them want to wake up before ten, so you’re safe to lean and lounge while waiting for customers.

A call comes through your earpiece after a few customers, nearing the cusp of 8am.

”Hey, we’ve got the guy coming your way,” your head cash – Lisa – says, voice crackling in the mic. The guy is a rude jerkoff, some contractor who thinks abusing staff is the way to get good service and better prices.

What’s worse is that your managers allow it. In fact, you get warnings like this all the time. The guy is here, the guy has a big order, make sure to cash him out fast or he’ll start shouting. Be pleasant. Smile.

The guy is walking down the store lumber aisle with a pinched expression on his face and two other employees dragging his stacked carts behind him.

You try to ignore his caustic vibes, thinking instead of the pink, purplish sunrise you’d seen earlier. Clouds like magic, cotton candy, floating above you 

You ignore the incessant tapping of his feet, the annoyed groan he makes when you lift a package of insulation up and find flat saw blades.

Sure, you can’t accuse him of stealing. But you can make a cheery, passive aggressive comment–

“Oops, I guess you forgot these!” you chirp, scanning them a little slower than necessary. It’s not mature, but it does make you feel a little better. Nice try, bozo.

Playing the idiot cashier helps with these types. Why are you mad, sir? I’m just a cashier? And though you could answer more questions than you do, you don’t. Playing the ditz makes life easy.

Lisa’s definitely judged you for it, but hey. She’s not stuck at the register like you are.

Sometimes, it works. You get a scowl, but they’ll go quiet. Sometimes.

Today, it backfires.

“Excuse me?” 

Oh here we go, you think. It’s way too early for this.

“What was that, sir?” you play dumb, voice squeaking.

“Are you accusing me of stealing?” his volume raises. You see redness crawling up his neck. Fuck.

“No, no, I only meant–” you try to backtrack. Fuck, fuck. This is the result of your hubris. Your reasoning flies out through the massive lumber area doors as his rage climbs.

“No? No? Because I think you just accused me of stealing. Do you understand how much I spend here, you moron?”

“I do, I didn’t mean to imply–”

“Get me a fucking manager, now,” he snaps. God, you have no clue if he acts like this to get his way, to get discounts, or if he’s really this angry half the time he comes in.

Regardless, the effect is real. You’ve never been good with anger, and you’re shaking a little as you press the call button on your pager.

“C-Can I please have a manager down to lumber cash?” you broadcast to the store.

All you can think of is looking away from his angry gaze while you wait. Oh, a bubble bath – you have an aloe and green tea bubble bath packet at home waiting for you.

Hot water. Bubble bath. Manager to fix this mess. Maybe a hot chocolate after work?

A couple minutes pass. Longest minutes of your life.

No answer. The guy taps his foot, sighing loudly, angrily. You try again.

“Can I please have a manager down to lumber cash?”

Oh fuck, is that someone else in line? You turn away bodily, speaking again into your mic. Trying to look like you’re doing something about the wait.

Another couple minutes. Despair washes over you like a cold blanket of snow.

“Need a manager at lumber cash,” you try.

Typical, really. Lisa is likely on break, and you have no idea who’s managing the store at the moment.

You imagine it’s likely Cody, who’s good with contractors like this because he's personable but he’s also lazy it almost cancels out. Also, he takes a smoke break every 5 minutes.

And never takes his pager.

“What the fuck is taking so long?” you hear behind you.

“I’m sorry,” you say, turning. “My manager is busy at the moment but–”

“Busy?” his voice is like a gunshot in the airy space, an absurd volume for the time.

“Yes–”

“Do you know–”

A third voice cuts in.

“Think you better learn a little patience, mate,” British?

Oh, shit. It’s that guy from before. He’s got one hip a little cocked, a frown on his face like he’s smelled something bad. His boonie hat is titled down, nearly covering his eyes. You can see them because you’re shorter than he is.

“Excuse me? And who are you? Mind your business,” the guy says.

“I think you’d better let the nice girl check me out while you wait,” he motions for you towards the parallel cash desk, and you’re grateful to just follow.

You scurry away from the guy faster than is appropriate, calling out again as you cross the open space towards the other cash desk for a manager.

You can only hope they arrive while you’re helping this one. John Price, you think his name was. He's a memorable man. Him and his moustache and his expensive company.

John Price has left the guy flabbergasted. He also has twice as many carts as him, and when your eyes widen to see them he just says take your time in a smooth, deep voice.

Oh man.

You do take your time, already calmer for John’s presence. Strange maybe to feel safe in the company of a stranger, a contractor no less, but it’s a nice change of pace.

Beep, beep. You scan methodically. John has no hidden items, and he doesn’t pressure you. He leans up against his lumber order and watches you check underneath things, under the cart, doing everything you’re trained to do.

“Start early?” he asks.

“Hm?” you lift your head. “Oh, yes. 6am.”

He whistles.

“Hard worker, I see,” he helps you lift a heavy bag of concrete.

“Thank you,” Marx look away, you think. Your face is only a little hot.

Cody strolls in the lumber doors missing his apron and – you guessed it – his pager. You fix him with a look as he smiles in greeting.

“Need a manager when you’re free,” you rush. Cody is nice, but you’re kinda miffed now.

“Oh, sure,” he says, walking by you toward the breakroom.

John Price raises a brow.

“Not everyone’s up to the task, eh?”

You feel hot again.

“It’s just early.”

John smiles. He looks remarkably silly doing it, you think. His facial hair makes him look approachable, cuddly. Like a teddy bear.

John’s order totals double the guy, which isn’t really a victory for you but it feels like one. Ha! See, you aren’t the richest guy here. You feel vindicated. Cody looks miserable cashing him out, which makes you just a little guilty.

“Will that be cash or card?” you ask, finger hovering on the POS.

He pays with card. You certainly do not notice how he cradles the machine. You aren’t that down bad.

Only you are, and his fingers are huge. His knuckles are hairy.

When you go to hand him the receipts, printed twice for record keeping, he manages to slip a 50 into your hand before you notice.

“Oh, no! I’m not allowed to–”

He folds those big bear paws over your hand, enclosing the cash in it with a sh sh sh as you protest.

“For the trouble,” he winks.

“You didn’t give me any trouble,” you try. The warmth of his palm, the roughness of his calluses. You’re a goner.

He chuckles, and you wonder how he can be both so intense and so disarming.

“You know what I mean, sweetheart,” he squeezes your hand, pushing it gently back towards you until you can put it in your apron pocket.

“Thank you,” you squeeze out.

“Don’t let him get to you,” he says.

“I’ll try,” you thank God or the universe or whoever that Cody and the guy finished a while ago.

“Attagirl.”

Yeah, you’re a goner.

[captainpriceslilwife]

what hybrids i think the boys (tf141 + nikolai) would have because im a freak and cant stop thinking about it and YES they're boinking the hybrids! :))) <3 simon's is angsty though, so...yeah

Also the pics included are just to get a visual of the animal that the hybrid is based off of...they aren't in a relationship with like...actual animals. if i could draw i would've drawn the hybrid myself but unfortunately you'd just get a stick figure with two triangles coming out of it with a note on the side like ":) -> these are wings! <3" so here we are. use your imagination!

(edit: removed the 'keep reading' line :) you WILL read it and look at the pretty pictures i picked out...whether you want to or not)

john: ok, ok, ok....hear me out LISTEN !!!! cockatiel!hybrid. i know we all love cute fluffy hybrids but LISTEN TO ME!!! I used to have one growing up, and i can see it so perfectly oooh my god. They typically bond really well to one person and are snippy with everyone else, and i think john would absolutely love that. It makes him feel special - like he's needed. And he's always loved feeling needed, which is why he goes so above and beyond for his team. And now he has something to scratch that itch for him while he's at home.

Plus, he loves the way she sings and chirps for him - sometimes he'll even hum something around her just to hear her mimic him for the next couple of days. He soaks it up as much as he can when he's at home because he knows that when he's deployed to some hellish warzone halfway across the world, there won't be any birds singing. So even when his little hybrid keeps chirping the same tune over and over again, her feathers fluffing up as she begins to get on her own nerves - he can't bring himself to tell her to stop. And, sometimes, if his hybrid is depressed because he's leaving and he can't get her to cheer up (poor thing has separation anxiety), he'll sing a little bit with her. He never liked the sound of his own voice, but when he sees the way his birdie's face lights up and the way her head sways along with his tune, he melts right there on the spot. It'll always be the first thing he misses when he has to go away. And, yes, sometimes he finds himself singing quietly to himself when he's thinking about his little bird on his mission. Only Simon has ever heard it, and he doesn't breathe a word about it to anyone else - mainly because it reminded him of his mum when he was younger.

John's favorite thing, though, is helping her groom every night. He loves to run his fingers through her feathers, especially the tuft of long feathers that are always propped up on top of her head. He loves to watch his baby lean into his touch as he tries to smooth out her 'pretty crown', as he calls it. And when his fingers catch on a loose, stubborn feather that she can't get on her own? He's gently pulling it out while his other hand coaxes her muscles to relax as he coos softly at her. I know, I know it hurts...always such a good birdie for me though, huh? Pretty little thing...there we go. That feels better, doesn't it, love? And she always thanks him by bopping her forehead gently against his, and he can never stop himself from catching the movement with his lips to press a gentle kiss just beneath her crown.

And if his hands slip under her wings to rub little circles there? And her wings get all ruffled as she slowly gets worked up and turned on? Well, he's not just going to let his poor birdie suffer, now will he?

And it doesn't matter if he's fucking her in missionary or if he's got her mouth wrapped around his cock - his thumbs will always find their way to those pretty orange spots on her cheeks :) stroking them lovingly like he's not defiling his precious little bird. Always rewards her with some fancy birdseed at the end of it, though - let's her eat it right out of his hand.

kyle: another hear me out but....hold on! just picture it! hedgehog. DO NOT SCROLL AWAY FROM ME!!

Think about it. He's been wanting to get a hybrid for a while now, but he just can't seem to figure out what he wants. Everything just seems too...standard. Cats, dogs, birds? It's not really doing it for him. Plus he gets too sad when he goes to the hybrid facilities just to look, so he eventually stops going so he doesn't feel guilty.

But one day he's in the rec room trying to relax - key word: trying. The two recruits next to him just won't seem to shut up about their own hybrids they've got waiting for them at home. Kyle tries to zone them out as much as he can, but his ears perk up when he actually starts to listen to what they're saying.

I don't know, mate. I got one of those hedgehog hybrids - thought it'd be cool - but she's so fucking weird, man. She's always curling up in a ball or giving me this weird smile...it'd be fine if she'd let me fuck her, but she always runs away when I just try to touch her. Kyle is locked in on their conversation, and he doesn't even notice how hard he's clenching his fists until he hears the other recruit respond. Fucking get rid of her, mate. Don't she know that's what hybrids are for? Could throw her out on the street on those grounds.

So, of course our sweet Kyle taught both of those recruits a lesson in what hybrids are for :) nevermind the fact that Price had to sign a bunch of paperwork in order to keep him on the team. Turns out that beating two recruits with the help of Simon is frowned upon in the military. That's not important.

What's important is the fact that now he's got a little hedgehog hybrid all to himself. Tiny thing, too. She's the tiniest out of all of the hybrids he's seen with his teammates. And, ever the prince charming, he makes sure to give her a life that scumbag could never even dream of.

She becomes his favorite thing in the world. Spoils her absolutely rotten. All those weird quirks the recruits were complaining about? He swears he's never seen something so precious or perfect in his life. He'd do anything to put that 'weird' smile on her face - even went so far as to build her an enclosure in her own room, just so she can play around at night since she's nocturnal and he needs to sleep. But he absolutely loves when he's lying in bed and he hears her giggling to herself in the other room, only for her to come crawling into bed with him just before the sun comes up so she can cuddle with him before he leaves for work.

Yeah, turns out she does like to be touched - likes to be fucked, too - as long as she doesn't have some prick breathing down her neck to tell her how weird she is. It takes all of Kyle's willpower to not take a video of him pounding her sweet cunt just to send it to that idiot, but in the end he decides his sweet girl doesn't need to be shown off like that. Not when she curls up next to him and cuddles into his chest when they're done - chittering softly and smiling at him so sweetly that he swears he'll get a toothache. And when she murmurs her thanks for him? Telling him how happy she is that she's finally found someone who actually likes her? Yeah, he's keeping his sweet little pet all to himself.

johnny: little bunny!hybrid...we ALL know why. he's a freak and he needs something to match his stamina. but i do think he picks one of the bunny!hybrids who is more quiet (because poor johnny has always been drawn to the cold, stand-offish type ghost) and he has to coax her out of their shell before she gets comfortable enough for him to even think about pulling her into bed with him.

maybe she was hiding off to the side when he came to the facility looking for a new companion. everyone has always picked the other, more-affectionate bunnies, so she had kind of lost hope - doesn't even lift her head to see who is cooing softly at the other bunnies. But suddenly she feels a gentle hand stroking over her soft ears, and a soft murmur is pulling her away from her quiet solitude - aye, and who's this sweet, little angel? look at tha'...softest thing ah've ever felt...

And he takes her home that same day, even though she refuses to meet his eye and curls away from him every time he runs his fingers over her sensitive ears. He knows it'll take time to win her over, and despite popular belief, Johnny can be patient. Especially when he knows what kind of reward is waiting for him at the end ;)

So for the next couple of months (yes, months - he puts in WORK) he tries to gain her trust. Buying her special treats, handfeeding her the 'fancy lettuce', always backing off when she thumps her foot against the ground when he gets too handsy - he does everything he can to make his sweet coney happy. He even builds her a little nook that she can hide out in if she wants to get away from him. And by some miracle, that seems to make her grow more affectionate with him. He nearly explodes with joy when she comes out of her cubby to sit next to him on the couch while he's watching TV, and he swears he almost cries when her head rests against his shoulder and she asks him in a shy, quiet voice if he can massage her ears.

And all of his hard work finally pays off when he wakes up one morning, eyes still crusted over and bleary from sleep - only to look down and see his little bunny, completely naked, humping his leg like her life depends on it. Looks like all those lonely years at the facility finally caught up to the poor bunny and she just couldn't take it anymore.

Luckily for bun, he's just as pent up as she is! So both of them are very pleased when he's using her soft, floppy ears as handlebars to rut into her like a man possessed - and his favorite part is seeing how her fluffy, cotton tail grows more and more soaked with the combination of her slick and Johnny's cum :))))) he's licking it clean after

simon: dog!hybrid, but specifically a very hyper, very affectionate mutt - one that he didn't want. I think simon is the only one who never actively sought out a hybrid for himself. He thinks it's wrong to own something that seems so human, but his teammates can see how he clenches his jaw whenever he hears them talking about their little pets back home - and john always catches that look of longing that flashes in his eyes before he's quickly covering it up with the aloof demeanor he always uses as a shield.

But one day they've got a mission to raid a supposed 'hybrid-training facility'. Turns out they were running an illegal hybrid breeding ring, and they were putting the 'unsellable' mutts through cruel experiments and tests so they could figure out how to make even more hybrid babies to sell.

And that's when he sees her - a pretty little pup that's been through the ringer. Looking at her, he thinks that she's way too young to be having a litter of her own, but according to the chart that hangs next to her cage - she's already had three litters. There are no hybrid pups to be found though - just her in the cage, using her last bit of energy to wag her tail as she stares up at simon with hope in her pretty brown eyes. Turns out the breeders had taken all the pups when they ran, likely to set up shop somewhere else with a fresh set of merchandise.

Hey, sweetheart - he murmurs softly as he unlocks the cage, being as gentle and careful as he can as he scoops her up from beneath her arms - but she still cries softly as her sore body presses up against his. I know, love, I know...I've got ya. C'mon, let's get you cleaned up, sweet girl.

And he's there with her through the whole process of recovering in the hospital - mainly because he doesn't have a choice. The poor pup whines whenever he tries to leave, and it makes his heart ache in a way he never thought was possible. Price is the one who encourages him to take some time off and 'get to know his new pet'.

And he does take that time off, but she's never just a pet to him. Not when he saw how she looked the day she finally worked up the courage to scoot closer to him on the couch, ears held back like she was waiting for him to yell at her for getting close, or how he's the only one she'll trust to rub her distended belly when she gets phantom aches (her body never did go back to normal after all those forced pregnancies - even her heats were few and far between now).

And honestly? He's the only one out of the guys who isn't trying to sleep with their hybrid. It isn't until over two years in that it finally happens, and only because she was going through a particularly rough heat. She's whining in pain like she did the very first day he met her, and he just can't take it. He's never been so gentle in his life, working her open as slowly as he can, watching her face for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. But he never finds any. The only thing he sees staring back at him is love and trust that he never thought he'd deserve - but he's finally found it in those pretty brown eyes.

nikolai: kitty!!!!! kitty!hybrid aalllllll the way. siberian cat to be specific. he almost got a bengal cat!hybrid because he likes having access to exotic things, but he felt too guilty about the thought of keeping it in the cold, russian tundra he lives in - so he found a kitty that was built for the cold!

And he's so grateful that he did. Because he is absolutely, 110% enamored with the fluffy, soft fur that adorns his hybrid's body along with her striking blue eyes. She very quickly becomes, quite possibly, the most spoiled thing on the planet. You better believe he's slapping a (very real, very expensive) diamond collar on his hybrid by the end of their first day together.

She's always prancing around his house with her fluffy tail bobbing behind her, chin held high like she's the goddamn queen of sheba - and to Nikolai? She might as well be.

He loves playing with his little kitty - watching her eyes grow big as he shines a laser pointer on the couch beside her, making her jump up from her previously cozy position to catch it before he moves the little red dot out of reach. She'll do it for about three minutes, but she's always too lazy to keep going, so he just laughs and settles for rubbing the soft tufts of fur on her belly. You are spoiled little girl, eh? I wonder whose fault that is... Though, she does love to jump out from behind corners to try and scare him, and he always pretends to jump for her sake, just so he can hear her giggle as her scoops her up and promises to punish her for being such a naughty kitty.

He's got a special spot in his hangar just for his little kotenok since he can't bear to part with her for too long. it's got a million toys and cushions and fur blankets - even a heating pad just to keep her warm - but she still always slinks her way over him while he tinkers away on whatever he's working on that day. but he never scolds her - he'll just let her curl up in his lap while he reaches his arms around her to keep working. and he'll press a soft kiss to her head every couple of minutes, just to hear her trill quietly as she lifts her head closer to him. It always pulls a deep chuckle from within him, and those vibrations lead to his hybrid pushing her paws against his chest to march as gently as she can. She doesn't want to distract her owner when he's doing something important, but sometimes her sharp claws still catch on his shirt and scratch his chest on accident. He'll never let her feel guilty about it, though - he's honored, actually. Always leaving his shirt a bit unbuttoned to display his scratches to everyone like they're a trophy.

And if him and his hybrid are together around literally anyone else? Everyone is uncomfortable. Because why is he hand-feeding his hybrid anchovies while she sits in his lap during a meeting? And why does her big, fluffy tail keep brushing against his face while they both giggle and whisper quietly to each other? Why is he scratching at the base of her tail? Is she licking the leftover juice from his fingers? Oh, they're about to - oh, there go their clothes! Ok, time to go- no, Johnny, you cant watch.. Meeting's over. You'll have to see yourself out.

Also, he always leaves that collar on when he's fucking his kitty just so he can see it glinting in the light as he makes her bounce and mewl softly - and if he wants her to be a bit louder? He's tugging at that fluffy tail until she forgets what a pretty, fancy cat she is and starts yowling like a stray in heat.

[ghouljams]

John MacTavish the Man that you are. Thank you for making all the men stellar in the divorce Price Au. Now I’m curious about what does Simon and Kyle and Nik do on the weekends with their girls?

Luckily your and Simons little ones aren't so little anymore! Your oldest is 13, your middle 10 (soon to be 11), and your youngest is 7 (soon to be 8). They're good kids, and mostly capable of being left along. Your eldest, the boy, goes out with his mates after footie and Simon has assured you they won't cause trouble. You're not sure you believe him, but your son always comes home for dinner and that's all you can hope for some days. Your middle girl is a dancer, and a dedicated one at, so you cart her off to extra practice on saturday afternoons while Simon takes your youngest to get groceries. You like to stay and talk to the other dance moms, just to remind yourself how normal you are.

You all settle in to watch a black and white horror movie (something from Simon's collection) on saturday nights and your kids crack jokes with their father the whole way through.

Sundays are lazy. Simon isn't one for church so you all sleep in. In the afternoon your son will go off with his friends again and your girls will find their own friends to play with in the neighborhood. You'd be more worried about your youngest, but her siblings always seem to hover nearby. You try to take the time to clean a child-free home, and Simon always finds a way to distract you. Long gone are the days getting bent over a kitchen counter, but just as sweet is the way he settles you against the edge to kiss you soft and slow. Here are the quiet humming moments, Simon's hands on your waist, his rough throat buzzing with your first dance as you sway in the living room.

And just as frequently, here are the quick sunday shags that leave you grinning ear to ear and giggling with your husband afterwards. The romps that make you go "oh thank God the kids aren't home" and "would you do that thing with your tongue again, I liked that?" and "who showed you that move? I thought you were trying to kill me for a second." Happier and happier for each year of married life that passes, and each weekend you get to steal your husband away from base for.

[inkbybambi]

you're always the consolation prize.

it hurts, an ache between your ribs that never truly goes away; a new crack that heals uncomfortably in your bones, in your soul. you're of no use as the priority, so you've resigned yourself to being second (or third, or fourth) best every time they call for you.

you see them smiling at each other, a quirk to their lips that call to a certain kind of fondness; there's a sparkle in their eyes that always dulls when their attention turns to you. resigned themselves, almost.

you don't know why you stay.

they've never given you a reason to.

[tempfrangit]

content: scent kink, degradation, dom!nikola, subby!reader

Has someone already pitched Reader with a scent kink and Nikolai? Reader who absolutely loves Nikolai’s scent, because his natural smell and his cologne are so deep — musky and thick amber notes — while his aftershave was so sharp you could always know when he was near. And he loves how much you love the smell of him. He’ll hold off on showering before the long flight to see you, arriving with a slight burn of motor oil. He’s the perfect guy for you for so many reasons

He’d guide you by your hair to get your mouth where he wants them on his big, heavy balls. His hair is matted down by your drool, your cheek smeared with it from when he’d dragged your face across them. Just before he’d slapped you with his cock. Remind you why a slut like you is down there. He’s so mean but you can’t help how much you love the way he treats you :( When you’re with Nik you don’t have to think too hard, you don’t have to make decisions

All you have to do is your favorite thing: shove your nose into his fat sack and loving lather each of his balls with until they shine

You swear the smell gets you drunk

At least this time he warns you before he cums all over your face

[secretlysimpash]

Nikolai having a hangar cat, just a stray that wandered in on one of the freezing cold Russian nights. It came to him as a scrawny, trembling, pathetic thing with patchy, dark blue-gray fur. Its wide, green eyes and sad meows were enough to break him.

He ended up feeding it for a week. In two weeks, it had a collar with a red tag hanging from it. One donning the hangar cat's name: Kitti. Yes, Nikolai is very creative.

Kitti loves lounging inside of the helicopters while Nikolai fixes them, purrs drowned out by the loudest death metal imaginable. Whenever Laswell drops by his hangar, Kitti watches her through a window of the pilot's seat. Though she never comes out of the heli. Not when she visits, not when anyone from 141 visits. She even swatted at Soap when the man tried sticking a hand through the door to pet her head. Kitti doesn't even budge when Nikolai tries coaxing her out if others are around.

It doesn't bother Nikolai too much, even if he wishes that she'd at least come out to greet Price. It isn't until a new face comes into the hangar that this changes. Well, its not his hangar, but one away from home. One he's working in overseas, away from Russia. Its hotter than Russia, so his bomber jacket is long forgotten in the back of the heli.

The burly Russian is finishing off some work on the engine when Kitti jumps down from the pilot side door. Instead of the long furred feline going to curl around Nikolai's ankles and demand attention, she heads for the door.

Flanked by Laswell and Price is you. Kitti promptly ignores them in favor of chirping up at you. Nik can't believe it. Neither can the amused American or the very slightly offended Brit.

Its unbelievable. Kitti only tolerates Nikolai, but here you are...A stranger, a lovely stranger at that. Someone that the very picky storm cloud of a cat likes and is now rubbing up against.

What kind of cat dad would Nikolai be if he didn't introduce himself (and Kitti) properly? Especially to the one that he's already planning on keeping for himself? The one that he has decided is Kitti's new co-parent?

[gothghostiie]

eepy cozy thinking about conking out on niks or prices fat hairy chest hmm

[dutiful-wildcraft]

I re-emerge with a soft and vaguely angsty Nik/Price/F!Reader

Unedited, 1k, enjoy <3

It's not unusual for Nikolai to look after her while Price is away. As a matter of fact it grew common, the burly Russian staying with her more often than not, even when John was home.

And what had originally been a friendly extension of John, extra security at her call, had evolved into another soft body in their bed, both men's mingled cologne sinking into her sheets as she slept tucked between them.

However, these last few days had been devoid of soft embraces and stolen kisses, but rather wretched coughing and sniffly noses. 

Nikolai, has been sick as shit for days.

Thankfully, he'd been minding her with only a small amount of caterwauling. Huffing and puffing about her not sleeping beside him, whining as sickly boys are want to do.

His raspy voice somehow stupidly effective in getting him his way. 

Can I have more blankets lisichka? he rumbles pitifully.

What will we have for lunch?  he asks with big brown eyes. 

As if he could keep anything more than cheese and crackers down.

Unable to sleep due to Nikolai’s chainsaw level congestion snores, she slinks down stairs in the wee hours of the morning. Having already decided to make her favorite comfort food. Something simple, savory and carb heavy for the pair of them. 

On a whim she gives John a video call, setting it up on the counter while it rings and rings. 

She hardly expects him to answer, he rarely does.  And considering he'd already been gone 4 out of his supposed 6 week stint, she was sure her man was still up to his chest in work.

She's got a maw full of shredded cheese when John's voice rings through the receiver.

“Hello darling”

She sputters, recovering quickly to flash him a big goofy smile.

“Hey love” she whispers back, heart fit to burst as she takes him. There isn't much to see, just the pale light of his phone illuminating his features in the darkness. His beard is scruffy, bags under his eyes far too heavy for her liking. 

“Hello” he repeats again, an infinite fondness in his voice. His sweet cheeks pulled up into that little smile that still makes her blush. She sheepishly brushes the remnant shredded cheese off her tits, tries to quickly adjust her hair. 

She can see her own image reflected in the top corner of her screen, she looks like hammered hell honestly. Hair a mess, dark circles under her eyes, clad in ratty stained oversized shirt. She almost feels a little guilty for not looking more presentable for him when he chimes in again.

“Missed that sweet face.” he murmurs, and all those nagging thoughts plop right from her noggin. The goofy man would think she'd look hot in a trash bag. 

“Missed your face too baby, you okay?” She knows better than to ask about the op, instead lets him pick and choose what he likes to talk about. 

“Much better now, might even be home sooner than we thought.”

Her ears perk at that, spiritual tail wagging hopefully. She missed him dearly, occasionally shed tears in the lonely showers away from Nikolai, when the weight became to much for her to bare. She does her best not to say anything, doesn't want him to feel bad for being so far away. Instead she sends him updates, pictures of the animals, of her meals, this weeks favorite song.

He doesn't reply, she knows he can't, but he does read them, follows up with each one in a big text or call when he can. Somehow holding the details despite whatever hell he sees.

“What you makin’ over there?” he cuts in, trying to eye the counter with a raised brow through the screen. 

“I was hankerin’ for some potato soup, thought the patient would like it too.” she chuckles a bit.

“Mmm, sweet thing aren't you? How is he?”

“He's only a little whiny, spends his day trying to coax me close enough to cough on me, claims he just wants a cuddle” she laughs.

John chuckles too, shaking his head with a fond exasperation.“Well, you gonna show me how to do it?”

“Huh? Right now? I was just calling…you can get your rest babe, I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“I'm far from tired with a pretty thing cookin for me, now go on.”

She flashes him a knowing look. John Price was no chef, he did well enough, but she'd caught him on more than one occasion following along to the little cooking videos he'd dug up on the internet. Especially those made by other soft southern women.

With an expectant look she continues her work, cutting vegetables and getting the stock pot ready. 

“Talk to me love, need to hear your voice.” he reminds her. 

Not want. Need. And who was she to deny him? So with a little fumbling she starts narrating, mimicking the smooth diction she'd often heard in those same videos, biting back a smile as she watches John fight sleep. Tired baby blues drooping lower and lower, closing briefly before the sharp snick of cut carrots stirs him again. Eyes straining to keep watch.

Sweet man.

She knows he's exhausted, more so than she can probably imagine. What hell he's had to dodge up until this point, and possibly a few days more until he can see them again.

Something in her chest stirs at how he stills for her, easily drawn into the soft bubble of comfort she can provide at such a distance. Lulled easily by a silly soup recipe, simply because it's her voice. She wonders now if he uses her voice messages similarly. She wonders if he would let her read him to sleep.

She files it away. Along with the thought of sending him softer voice messages for when he's away. 

She looks to him again, bristly face squished against his pillow. Eyes closed serenely. 

“Wanna know my secret?” she asks, soft and playful, watching one of his pretty blue eyes creak open at her tone.

“W'sat luv?” 

“I use instant mashed potatoes to thicken up my soup, makes it extra potatoe-y” she giggles.

“My clever girl” he mumbles dreamily, followed by a string of more barely intelligible praise. It rolls easy and proud from his chest, voice no more than a sleepy purr that makes a grin split her face. 

By the time she's finished up John is fully asleep, his measured breaths pouring through the receiver just shy of a real snore.

Her heart aches deep in her chest, a chunk of it long gone and far far away in the form of one John Price, and while she can see him now, know he's alive and relatively well, she longs more than anything to crawl in next to him. Hold him close tucked beneath her chin, where she can keep him warm and safe herself.

As if on cue, a pair of strong arms wrap around her middle, Nikolai’s hot cheek pressed to her temple where he briefly lays a kiss. This time she doesn't fight him. 

Getting sick be damned.

“Pretty thing isn't he?” Nikolai rumbles quietly, eyeing the phone screen with those fond brown eyes. 

She simply hums an affirmative in his arms, words caught in her throat by the emotion that's threatening to escape her. 

Nik seems to catch on, giving her a soft squeeze. “How is he?” he whispers instead, voice low to not wake the man on the other side of the world.

The question is able to at least shake a little out of her. “He seems okay, worn out, fell asleep watching me cook.” She watches John for another moment before sucking in a deep sigh, squirming around in Niks arms to face him, tuck herself into his arms. 

“I'm just ready for him to be home” she mumbles into the soft plush of his chest.

Nik pulls her in closer, warm hands petting along her back, squeezing the back of her neck soothingly. “Me too, malyshka” he returns, the weight of John's absence equally heavy in his own voice. 

The pair stay there for some time, swaying gently in each other's embrace, listening to John's soft snores until the sun paints their meager kitchen gold.

[lialucis]

Imagining hybrid au with polar bear Nikolai and little out of place desert hare who's first instinct when a large anything approaches is to stomp their feet and shoo them away. They've broken legs and arms and ribs with their kicks, they can be dangerous!!

Little desert hare whose flight kicks in when the large Russian doesn't back down and instead gets closer, to close. Making the now skittish thing bolt out of the coffee shop and into a snow storm they're terribly unprepared for.

Little desert hare who stumbles and falls and feels a surge of panic as they lose their way, storm swirling and closing in and a blanket of white in every direction.

Little desert hare who hears Nikolai call out for them, already peeling off his coat as he shrugs and rolls his shoulders. Adjusting to the cold climate, he's been through worse this is nothing.

Little desert hare who yells furiously into the storm that they're not a bunny! It's rude and there's a difference...

Little desert hare who finally sees the intimidating silhouette of Nikolai trudging through the storm as if it was a simple breeze. Who bristles and begins stomping their little foot, and prepares to flee again.

Little desert hare who sees the massive bear hybrid hold out his thick shirt for the shivering little thing. Trying to coax them closer, calling himself 'Papa bear'.

Little desert hare who stumbles from a gale blowing them this way and that. Pleading terrified scared eyes turning on Nikolai. The urge to run still in their throat.

Little desert hare who finally takes a step towards the unmoving force in the storm and falls to their knees. Hand going to their leg and coming back bleeding. The cold numbing their injury from their earlier fall.

Nikolai who drops to his knees, quickly and easily closing the distance as he uses his shirt to wrap around the scared little hares leg.

Nikolai who lets out a soft comforting rumble as he scoops up the freezing hare, ready to deal with any retaliation.

Nikolai who's surprised when the little hare wraps their arms around his thick neck and curls closer, legs drawing up as they place their numb feet in his large warm hand.

Nikolai who hums softly, large hands rubbing against their cold little feet as he begins lumbering back to his apartment.

Nikolai who sets the little hare down on his couch and wraps them in blankets as he builds a fire and leaves to go get a first aid kit.

Nikolai who returns to see the little hare sitting right in front of the fire despite being told not to move as he watches them groom their long floppy ears and soft cotton tail wagging contently behind them.

Nikolai who finally comes closer and sits nearby, offering hot chocolate and a plate of cookies. Learning that the little hare is a greedy little thing. Eagerly eating one cookie before setting it down and quickly taking the proffered one.

Nikolai who feels his inner bear chuff when the little hare accepts the bear calling himself 'papa bear'.

Nikolai who learns to keep offering cookies as a good distraction so he can tend to the little hares leg.

Nikolai who begins pressing small kisses between the little hares ears. Noticing the dwindling lack of annoyance as he simply gives them a new cookie to focus on and wag their little cotton tail about.

Nikolai who's quick to learn and coax the little hare into his lap with more sweet treats and gentle ear rubs as he begins to mend the little bunny's leg.

Nikolai who is more than happy to keep feeding the feisty little bunny as he growls and chuffs and grunts every now and again between gentle touches. Getting them used to such bestial sounds.

Nikolai who helps the cold little bunny out of their wet and cold clothes, knowing hypothermia is such a dangerous thing for something so small. But he'll keep you warm, it's what Papa Bear is here for.

✨ NSFW ✨

Nikolai who enjoys the fattened and sleepy little bunny who no longer shys from his heavy petting and wet kisses and growls.

Nikolai who gets away with teasing the little cotton tail as he climbs over the little bunny and presses hungry kisses to their throat.

Nikolai who tugs the little bunny's head this way and that by a floppy ear, practiced finger rubbing his knuckles against the vertebrae above that cute little wagging tail making the little bunny arch.

Nikolai who gently offers nibbles and presses of his sharp teeth along the bunny's shoulders and ears to show his intent.

Nikolai who growls as his little bunny presents like a good prey, and mewls and pants softly as he begins to rock against the little bunny.

Nikolai who's own rounded ears and tail emerge from his heated state. Tail wagging as he finally sinks into the little bunny's warmth, chuffing as those slender fingers dig into the meat of his back.

Nikolai who presses his body against his little bunny as he rocks back and forth inside them, warm heavy belly and soft chest hair rubbing against the little bunny's body.

Nikolai who's claws begin to emerge and claw into the wooden floor near the panting bunnys floppy ears.

Nikolai who groans as he sinks his teeth deep into the little bunny's neck, marking them as he fills them up fit to bursting.

Papa Bear who wakes to his Little Bunny snuggled into his side, well fed and well bred. His own tail wagging in time with his little bunnies.

[verascrow]

THIGH RIDING NIKOLAI THIGH RIDING NIKOLAI THIGH RIDING NIKOLAIIII😔😔😔 (please wxcuse me)

FUCK I CAN'T BELIEVE I NEVER ANSWERED THIS ASK BECAUSE GOOD GODS I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT IT. When I first saw this ask I genuinely lost it so no you will not be excused - you are being getting a VIP seat as I stand on the stage and lose my mind about this concept.

PAIRING f!reader x Nikolai RATING R - Restricted [ Content warnings: 18+ mdni, hard dom!Nikolai, thigh riding, some praise and degradation ]

It's his favorite thing, right next to being inside of you, because of course nothing can top that.

But just... having you, such a perfect little thing, straddling one of his big, thick thighs, dressed in absolutely fucking nothing while he's fully clothed, leaning back in his seat as he watches you desperately rut against his jeans like a puppy in heat?

It's no wonder the man enjoys it so much when you make such pretty, sweet sounds for him! And the way you're all disheveled, jaw slacked and sweating slightly, your poor cunt absolutely drooling slick all over his jeans with your tits bouncing as you grind back and forth, too!

And while he's made you into the perfect mess, he's leaning back wherever he's sitting - maybe in a chair at a desk, on the couch, in the pilot's seat of his helicopter... wherever it may be - soaking in the sight with lidded eyes and a lazy, cruel grin.

"Look at you... fucking yourself on my thigh like a whore."

He mumbles the words under his breath, his tone filled with that deep, heavy gravel. It's almost like he's cooing at you, but his words have too much of a mean bite to them to be considered a sweet coo that you've heard come from him before.

I can't decide whether or not he'd have his hands on or off of you, because both make sense.

Like- picture him leaning back on a couch, arms stretched out behind him along the back of it as he watches you, completely composed with his hair pulled back all neat, freshly groomed, just watching you get off on his thigh.

Or... imagine a similar situation, with him still on that couch, but instead of being leant back, he's leant forwards, hands gripping your hips either lazily or in a vice, feeling you guide yourself along the length of his thigh, giving out heavy exhales through his nostrils as his eyes fixate on where your pussy stains his jeans.

Oh! And speaking of! He's so teasing you for that!

"You are dirtying my pants, лапушка (sweetheart). You're going to clean your mess when you are done, да (yes)?"

And, newsflash, you better say yes or, at the very least, give him some sort of indication that you're agreeing with him - an affirmative hum, a nod, something. As much as those words can be taken as an offhand comment, he means his words.

Know and trust that, one you get off, (both in the sense of cumming and physically getting off of his lap) he expects you to clean up the mess you've made like the obedient thing you are.

With your tongue on your knees in front of him, preferably, he would say. But that's a point for another time.

Now, back to the subject at hand.

He's ruined you - this is a known fact.

And it's even more well know to the two of you that, since waltzing into your life, he's become the only thing that can make you cum. So all of those sloppy, desperate ruts you make against his thigh, as stimulating as they are, can't get you to finish.

You're just not able to grind yourself fast enough or hard enough against his jeans, not getting enough stimulation to push you over the edge. So, the only solution? Whimpering and whining and begging him with tears in your eyes for him to help.

And fuck, he's so mean. :( Humming absentmindedly, completely ignoring your pleas, tutting at you and clicking his tongue in disapproval when you grab at his hands with the intention of encouraging him to do the work.

This was what you wanted, no? To ride his thigh like the desperate dog you are? Isn't that right? But oh, look at your poor face. He'd be cruel to deny you for longer than you can take, now wouldn't he be?

So, with his hands grabbing at the fat of your thighs, he drags you along the length of his thigh, pulling you up near his crotch and pushing you all the way back towards his knee.

Fuck, I bet you he spits down on his jeans too, just to make the surface a fraction more comfortable for your pussy to grind against. :( It's so nasty and messy but it's so hot at the same time, so who gives a fuck!

And if you can't get off still with just grinding against him, he'll bring his fingers down to your clit and just fucking abuse it as you leak and, eventually, cum all over his jeans, the fabric all slick and a mess and just... ugh.

Thigh riding Nikolai, thank you and good night. That's all folks. <3

[bitchin-beskar]

hehe now that I have your attention 😌😌😌 pleasure dom nik......crooning in your ear about how you've been such a good girl for him, can't you give daddy just one more, please?

BESTIE PLSSSSS

I know you're asleep rn, so you'll see this when you awaken, but goddamn does this thot have me in a VICE GRIP

god just imagine you're so shaky and weak that you can't even hold yourself up, it feels like your nerves are electrified in the best way, you're delirious with pleasure, and nik keeps telling you how good you've been, sending all kinds of delicious shivers up your spine

every time he promises it will be the last, you're just so pretty when you come, he can't help it, he just wants to see it again, be a good girl for him, come on, just a little more

and then you come, and think for just a second that you might get a reprieve, but no, he's playing your body like a harp, fingers moving this way and that, sending you soaring back towards that peak, and you feel like you're going to cry, and you've long since gone hoarse from shouting your ecstasy, and he

just.

keeps.

going.

[tempfrangit]

The horror of Gaz x Reader comes from the bones of Hider in the house and @/pricegouge absolute amazing horror fics that have inspired me.

Ever since you inherited your aunt’s house something’s felt off. More than just the grief of losing your closest family member, which had remained a constant weight on your weary shoulders. Your hometown is just like you remembered it and so different all at once. It seemed like the places you had the fondest memories had closed down, while every scabbing shame remained, making your face heat up still after all these years.

You’d also inherited her small used bookstore-slash-café and an absolute mutt of a reformed feral cat that you knew for a fact she’d picked up off the side of the road near a swamp. You’ve already decided to keep the store running, planning to juggle your wfh programmer position and return to your young adult life of being a barista. It was the cat that honestly caused you the most problems. Affogato — full name of course Gelato Affogato al Caffè, and a name that still made you roll your eyes and smile — was a sweet brown tabby that seemed incredibly stressed by the loss of his former owner

The first night you’d spent after you were officially fully moved in, he walked through the hall outside your room meowing. He hadn’t stopped until you’d followed him, down the stairs and into the laundry room. He’d inspected every corner of the room and for some reason the action unnerved you. His big green eyes turn back to you, and part of your heart aches for the old guy. It didn’t help that the old house settled loudly at night, like footsteps in the mostly empty shell

But almost an entire month and it made you feel like you were losing your mind in your own home. It felt like you weren’t getting restful sleep, brain fog clouding your short term memory. You can’t seem to remember where you put some things down. You lose your wallet for almost three days before you find it tucked under the sofa. It felt like you were going through food faster than you should have. It wasn’t helped by the new sleeping habit that you’d apparently adopted: kicking your blankets off. You’d wake up shuddering and there was Affogato crying beside you in bed

It felt like your new cat was summoning a demon

A strange new positive was that a very cute new neighbor has moved into town, and he’s become a valued regular customer and maybe even friend? Kyle is absolutely, jaw-droppingly handsome, and kind and funny and smart. Like he’s straight out of the cheese romance novels a gaggle of older women come in to trade titles for collections, browsing while they sipped from the one of a kind mugs your aunt had adored picking up while thrifting. And you don’t know why but that makes you really, really into him

Of course you agree to lunch, the safest possible date you could think of

[secretlysimpash]

Part 2 of this post

Alex "Terrified Of Spiders And Asks You To Take Care Of Them While He Stands As Far As He Can From The Tiny Arachnid" Keller

Farah "Always Wakes Up Way Too Early And Opens The Curtains, Inadvertently Waking You From A Sound Sleep" Karim

Kate "Secretly Likes Terrible Facebook Mom Memes And Will Send Them To You If She Trust You Enough (so price gets a lot of these as well)" Laswell

Nikolai "Blasting Deathcore At Max Volume For The Entirety Of A Flight, Your Ears Are Ringing For A While Afterwards" [REDACTED]

[injestedsoap]

The 141 + Nik and watching Bridgerton with you

Soap: Oh Soap curled up with you episode one and hasn't left your side. Sure he tried to play it off like this is beneath him and he's not actually interested but oh come on, bonnie, there's only two episodes left this season, let's finish it out. He loves the smut scenes, of course, but he also really likes the dance scenes and is going to 'complain' about you signing them up for dance classes until you actually do sign them up for dance classes.

Gaz: Gaz has also been there since episode one with you. He never even tried to pretend he wasn't having fun, he was a Gossip Girl fan in another life and as soon as he understood what Lady Whistledown was doing he was all in. You stopped between every episode to debate who she could be and he gasped when she was revealed. He gets really excited for the premieres and will go looking for themed snacks and drinks for your little two person party.

Ghost: Ghost does that thing where he tells you this is a waste of your afternoon while he stands in the kitchen watching, then moves to stand behind the couch watching, then sits on the couch with you, and then by the middle of the season he's got his arm over you and is talking shit about the characters like he knows them. Ghost weirdly knows way too much about textiles and one of the first things he said was about how the dresses are period accurate but that fabric isn't. If you're the kind of partner who wears dresses.... be careful because you might have a handmade dress waiting for you for the next season premier.

Price: Price has a bit of a secret.... he's read all the books, all of them, Bridgerton was never his favorite series but he's s sucker for a historical romance and these hit like cheap sweets. He has known about the series for ages and when you curled up on the couch to watch it he tugged you into his lap without being asked. He likes the books better but he really enjoys watching the show with you, just be ready to read the books with him between each season and be even more ready to hear him tell you about the differences in the show and the book.

Nik: Nik isn't really one for binge watching but he knows how excited you are about this. He has all the blankets on the couch and your pajamas freshly laundered, lights some candles, makes sure to have tea and whatever else you like to drink on hand, and orders way too much food for the two of you. Nik is just naturally a bit of a gossip and he loves how messy Bridgerton gets, he has a great memory for all the dumb shit everyone gets up to and loves talking about it with you. When he finds out these are books too he places an order for the set and between seasons he will snuggle you up in bed and read aloud to you.