#nikolai cod x reader

[microwavablefork]

18+ SMUT

alr imagine: Price and Nikolai have had their share of soft little things over the years, but of course being mates for longer than the sun and the stars comes with a few benefits.

So when Price is finished up with another mind numbing post op meeting, he’s none the happier to check his sparse notifications to see Nik’s name with a 2 minute video attached.

He locks the door to his office, draws the blinds, and idly gets his dick out of his pants as he clicks on the thumbnail of his friend ploughing a pretty bird with her face buried in the pillows.

[quarterlifekitty]

Listen, I'm not saying that I want to marry Nikolai and Price and be their good house wife buuuut-

Man why am I imagining Price and Nikolai sharing a wife like she’s a fuckin’ timeshare. Like yeah, they work together sometimes, but otherwise Price has got you with him when Nik is on a long job, and Nik has got you with him when Price is deployed.

99% of their back and forth texts are about you. Pictures of you, updates on you, where they’ve been taking you on dates, videos of cum leaking out of the puffy, swollen lips of your cunt. And they’ve got basically the same philosophy about giving you a baby— they can share the responsibility. They’re both busy, dangerous men. It would be cruel to have wives of their own— poor women would be alone for half the year. This way they can keep their careers and you can get some much needed attention.

The way they talk about you is so insanely intimate and yet so utterly casual.

“Calendar says she should be ovulatin’ soon. Got plans?”

“Making a Black Forest cake for her as we speak. Says you haven’t been able to find her a decent one in London.”

“Slander— bird’s got impossibly high standards. And she’s always been soft for sweets from you, Nik. Hope you’re ready to get your balls fuckin’ drained, mate.”

“I’m betting on it.”

[pricegouge]

As I have also been victim of the Christmas flu, I have ideas.

Nik not caring at all if he gets sick and just absolutely babying his sweet malyushka.

Having trouble keeping even water down? He’ll hold an ice cube in your mouth to suck on so you don’t overwhelm your stomach.

Makes sure you always have a cold compress on your head.

Lets you fall asleep on his chest while he rubs your legs.

Once you can hold down food he’s hand feeding you.

Has you set up in his bed because it’s bigger and the tv is better there.

Just don’t mind too much if you wake up with his cock gliding between your thighs. He deserves something for all his work.

-🗡️

i feel like i def outted myself as someone who literally never gets sick when i answered that ask so hey, thanks for these thoughts cause now i'm unwell in a different way.

just imagine waking up in his bed, sheets soft and wrinkled. you'd snuffle around to find his scent if you could, but with your nose all stuffed up, you settle for blinking your eyes open to be sure, brow furrowing in frustration despite the low light. he's hovering over you in seconds, blocking out the ambient light and sushing you, lulling you back into the warm embrace of your fever and the ample meds he's administered. you go willingly, the soft and warm and numb, trying to forget all your little aches and pains and inconveniences. the next time you wake he's tucked up behind you, thick fingers in your mouth as you suckle at the ice he's holding against your tongue. he's muttering something you could maybe understand if you concentrated, but you can't. not when the contrast of the ice in your mouth and the heat of his cock between your legs has you dizzy, your thoughts slow and bubbly with pyrexia. you think he feels it too, panting hotly against your neck every time his cock slips past your feverish cunt, low voice grinding to a halt each time you feel him twitch against you. it's all too much, has your breath coming heavy and humid against his pillow when his seed burns your stomach. you think it's because you're about to boil out of your skin until his hairy thigh wedges between your own, heavy palms wrapping around your hips to rock you against him. you're the most alert you've been in days now, but he's in your ear anyway, voice low and soothing as he can manage as he assures you you can go back to sleep if you want, malyshka, he's got you.

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐩𝐫𝐞-𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

P.s. this is pre-relationship, when your feelings are still untold...some of the guys are still awkward and some are not :')

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐄

Visiting Price in his office was a common occurance. Sometimes you brought a drink with you, other times you just brought your old tired self.

This was one of those times.

And without looking up, he patted his knee and you hesitated. But only for a moment because as soon as you saw his pen stop scratching on the paper, you stalked over to him.

You rest your head on his shoulder, trying not to think about the goddamn awful day you had. You knew John would want to talk about it when you were ready. It's one of the things you love about him. He wants to help you no matter what.

As if on Instinctive John wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you in closer. Your face was flushes against his neck and your hands cling to his other arm.

John is so warm, and makes you feel so safe. Everyday is a battle for you; because you just want to fall into his arms and kiss him until you can no longer breathe.

But you can't, because he's your superior and you don't want to jeapordise anything.

𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

Wide-eyed and trying not to move. Even his breathing becomes shallower. It's lucky he's wearing a mask otherwise there would've been a bright red Ghost for everyone to see.

Continues to death glare the others, placing a firm finger in front of his lips. Reminding them to SHUT UP.

No one is allowed to talk when you are asleep in the common area. On Ghost's literal orders.

But he never thought you would actually fall asleep on him.

It was a nice feeling. One that made him giddy inside. Like ... he had been chosen for something important.

And maybe he had. This could be a way for your body to tell Ghost that "I WANT YOU!" But unless you actually tell him, he isn't going to get it - or believe it.

𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊

Warmth travels to his cheeks as he realises that you've practically clung yourself to him and fallen asleep.

He had taken you to the movies because you had some spare time on your hands and wanted to feel like normal people for once.

But halfway through, drowsiness had overcome you, and consciousness faded away.

It was easy to fall asleep next to Gaz, whose smell and gentle heartbeat felt like heaven.

You hadn't wondered if this was going to far, you trusted Gaz enough to tell you if it was. But he would never tell you that.

Because there was no 'too far.' He would do anything for you. He just didn't know how to get you to see that.

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇

Oh our sweet boy Soap, he would become so goddamn giddy. His cheeks turn red as he moves ever so slowly to look at you.

Watching movies together was a common occurance. Your place or his, it didn't matter. Even the movie didn't matter - though you both argued over it relentlessly. It was a way for you both to spend more time together. A reason to say why you were late for ___

Your head had dropped a little and his eyebrows flew upwards. He would never live it down if you fell straight into his crotch area.

So he moved his arm around your shoulders and let you turn fully around to hug him.

Your face pressed against his neck, breathing in his scent.

"Tha gaol agam ort," he whispers into your hair. You only barely heard it. It means (I love you).

He only ever says it when you cannot hear him. But litte did he know you were catching on to certain Gaelic words. Maybe not at that moment, but you had better hearing than he thought you did.

𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆

Did not know what to do, and in the midst of his panic, he had accidentally wriggled his shoulder. Which meant you curled up on his lap.

"Oh maus..." Konig whispered, afraid that you would wake up and freak out. But if he truly believed that, then he hadn't been paying attention to your friendship at all.

After ten minutes of the movie playing but Konig couldn't stop staring down at your curled form in his lap, he slowly and gently moved the hair from your face. Stroking your cheeks, running his fingers over your nose and forehead.

It was right then that he fell in love with you. Truly fell in love with you.

A monster and his love. That's how Konig saw the two of you.

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈

Charming, suave, flirtacious and utterly awkward when it comes to you.

He makes as much spare time as he can to spend it with you. And curling up on the couch seemed to be the best idea for today.

His large hands wrap around your form and pull you closer.

"Иди спать, малышка" (go to sleep little one) he says quietly, watching you intently as you drift into a deep slumber.

Maybe there is a gun wedged between him and the armrest, but he knows his lifestyle, and how many people want to kill him.

But that is nothing compared to spending time with you.

𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐍

Coughs; yes he actually coughs and a few times at that. Why did he cough? He has no clue. Was he trying to wake you up? See if you accidentally forgot he was there?

In all honesty he was panicking - this wasn't the type of friendship that you had. It was all banter and poking fun at each other.

Someone actually asked if Keegan was being bullied a few weeks ago.

He snorted and just walked away. It was probably the best thing that recruit could've said.

It was after a long mission and you barely had time to undress from your military clothes, when Keegan barged in and held up two family sized bars of chocolate. "As a thank you for having my back out there, kid."

You couldn't deny the fluttering in your stomach. But saving face was what you two did. So you took both of the offerings and laid down in bed. "If you're having all the chocolate, I'm not leaving" "I'm not giving it back Keegan." "Looks like you have a bunk buddy then."

And the tall man climbed into bed beside you awkwardly trying to get comfortable. "Jackass," you mumbled. But a slight smile was on your lips. And within an hour you fell asleep.

When you woke up, Keegan was practically ontop of you, melted chocolate on his lips and slight snoring coming from his nose.

𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐏 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒

"What the fuck," he mutters to himself as you rest your head on his shoulder on the plane.

You had both been placed on a mission for months and now that it was over, you were exhausted (to say the very least).

The whole time you were together, there had always been bickering. Especially when you were undercover as a married couple.

So you were used to the hostility of Graves (even though he barely had any anymore when it came to you).

Hence, you were way too tired to give a shit. Honestly, if he were to wriggle you off, you would clutch his arm to keep him still.

But he didn't do that. Instead he feigns annoyance and rests his head against the back of his chair. His eyes flickering over to you every few seconds to see if you were okay (if that were to be brought up, he would say that he was looking out the window).

As the time went by, and you woke up, you found that Graves had found your hand and was clutching it.

𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎

Sinks into you as well. His culture isn't so rigid as others. And showing affection means multiple things, but the main thing is that it means he cares.

Where your head lolled on his shoulder, he moved back on the couch, yawned, and pulled you down with him. Your sleeping head was rested gently against Ale's chest.

He knew about your feelings for him, and you knew about his, so this situation was awkward. He knew he had to step up and say something, but it had turned into a game of sorts. As if the first person who spoke up would lose.

But having you on his chest, smelling your hair, feeling the weight of your body on his, he decided that he would happily be the loser.

[gloomwitchwrites]

I would LOVE to hear more of your thoughts on Nikolai with a Daddy kink because I'm stupidly weak for big scary Russian dudes and you do the words well

Nikolai is only big and scary when he needs to be. (And I do do the words well, don't I?)

mdni (gn!reader)

Loves a good power dynamic, especially a consensual one. It's simple and to the point. He loves it when his partner is completely submissive, but a little bad behavior doesn't hurt either.

Not entirely into the full roleplay aspect, but does enjoy hearing you call him "daddy" as much as he enjoys calling you his "baby" or "little girl/boy." Pet names are a must for him. And just imagine him calling you a pet name with that accent...*swoon*

Obey him, and he'll reward you (sexually and financially). Disobey, and get a punishment (or two)

An absolute soft dom. He prefers to praise over degrading you. As much as he wants to be dominant, he also wants you to feel protected and safe with him. Also, he's Russian. He firmly believes it is his responsibility to look after you in all ways.

Totally open to using toys and props of all kinds.

Very verbal in and out of the bedroom. Behind closed doors, he's telling you how good you are while giving him head and how pretty his cum looks dripping out of you, to complimenting your choice in outfit. The man has many talents.

A big ole' tease. He loves building the anticipation of sex, especially threatening to withdraw sex when you're being naughty. It pushes the boundaries of control, and you both get off on it.

Will completely take care of you financially. Want new clothes? A wax? Hair done? Whatever. He's covering it. No problem.

As much as he pays your bills and buys you things, he also cares about your well-being.

Aftercare is perfect. Every. Time. No notes.

main masterlist

[syoddeye]

the gift that keeps on giving - part three/final, nikolai

Every year, on each of their birthdays, you're delivered with a bottle of Scotch. Shared. Savored. Spoiled.

cw: established relationship, everything is consensual, reader is shared between price+nik+kate, alcohol, pet names, nik calling himself 'old man', piv, mild scent/armpit kink, rimming, overstim

a/n: AO3. series page.

The door groans as Nikolai shoulders it open, the cold clinging like a second skin.

Snow dusts his boots, melting in thin streams into dark puddles on the wooden floor. Sweat cools beneath his clothes, seeping into the fabric of his coat. His breath clouds in the cabin’s warmth as he steps inside, dropping the firewood beside the stove with a heavy thud. He rolls his shoulders, the lingering bite of winter settled deep in his bones. Shedding his outer layers, he cracks his neck from side to side, drawing in a deep breath. 

The cabin is simple—rustic, as John would put it. Remote. Tucked even further away than the hangar, well within in fuck off territory. A lonely place for a birthday.

Which makes it perfect.

For as long as he can remember, his birthday has always been just another day. So what if it marks the anniversary of him arriving in the world, red-faced and screaming? People are born. People die. It’s not an achievement. It isn’t special. He is nothing special.

She is.

Even if she is…less than pleased with their lodgings.

She sits wrapped in a thick blanket by the fireplace, face pinched in unmistakable displeasure. Legs tucked beneath her, lower lip pushed into a scowl, fingers drumming irritably.

Nikolai exhales a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he unlaces his boots. “What is this face?” he muses, glancing at her. “You have not moved a muscle, have you?”

She glares. “I’m conserving heat. Important when you’re trapped in the wilderness against your will.”

“Mm.” He hums thoughtfully, peeling off his gloves. “Sitting indoors, by a fire, wrapped in a blanket. Yes, very tragic for you.”

“You’re mocking me.”

“Am I?”

She huffs, pulling the blanket tighter. “When are we going to do something fun?”

He raises a brow. “Not enjoying yourself?”

She fixes him with a flat look. “I enjoy heat, comfort, and WiFi. None of which exist in this godforsaken place. That hotel I recommended on the other hand…”

Nikolai tsks, stepping closer. “You are soft, tsarevna.”

“I have standards.”

He smirks. “Yes. High standards, yet still, you are here. With me. On my birthday.” Just another day, but a useful tool in his belt. “I seem to recall you said you would give this place a shot. Work on that bad attitude of yours.”

She shrugs, utterly unrepentant. “I can’t help that I’m meant for finer things. I still don’t understand why we couldn’t go somewhere warm and hospitable,” she gripes. “In Naxos, Kate and I sunbathed for hours.”

“Ah, darling.” He clicks his tongue. “You know I don’t like complaining.”

“I’m only saying, if we went through with Thoddo, or Krk—”

Nik laughs. She’s trying to push his buttons. Has to be.

John warned him about this, about scooping her up and stealing away here. Said she wouldn’t like it. Said their little indoor cat of a woman would sulk. That she’d become spoiled. A playful jab at the time, but now, Nik’s not so sure.

It doesn’t usually fall to him, the wrangling, but she usually does not test him so much. He plays rough with her, but never from a place of correction. 

That may have to change. A new year, new role, perhaps.

He moves suddenly, crossing the room in a handful of strides. Her mouth falls open to argue, maybe to apologize, but his mind’s made up. Prissy thing needs a lesson.

Faster than she can react, he seizes her wrist and hauls her up, dragging her to her feet. She stumbles into him, yelping, palms splaying over his chest.

“Nikolai!”

His grin widens, wicked and full of mischief. He reaches down, grabs the hem of his damp thermal, and yanks it up—then in one smooth motion, tugs it over her head, trapping her face against his clammy skin.

Her muffled shriek is instant. “YOU ANIMAL!”

Nikolai chuckles, locking her in place with one arm around her waist. “Breathe deep,” he deadpans. “This is the scent of hard work. Of man.”

She thrashes hard, but he doesn’t budge. “Let me go!”

“Shhh.” He rubs a slow, patronizing hand over her back. “You will learn to appreciate it.”

She makes a strangled noise of absolute outrage, trying to wrench free, but he keeps her snug against him, her face buried in the coarse hair and sticky sweat of his chest.

“Nik, I swear to God—”

Finally, he lets go, stepping back as she stumbles, gasping for air like she’s survived an assassination attempt.

She wipes her face furiously, murderous. “You’re disgusting.”

Nikolai only pats her cheek, still grinning. “But you are warm now, no? Maybe vigorous activity is in order.”

She glares, but he snatches her wrist and tugs, slingshotting her toward the washroom. She stumbles, catching herself as he lands a smack to her rear, herding her into the washroom.

The claws come out when he strips her, but she doesn’t use her words once—beyond cursing him out.

“Perverted old man,” She hisses as he pushes his nose into her bunched-up panties.

“Unlike you, I like it sweaty. Adds flavor.” he laughs, nudging her under the water.

The hot water here lasts, at best, ten minutes. So after she sees to herself, he puts her to work, scrubbing soap into his back and chest, raking her nails through the thick whorls of hair. When he lifts his arms, she grimaces, suddenly face to face with the dense fur of his armpits.

He pictures doing it again, pressing her face into the hair to hear her shriek. Instead, he pulls her into a kiss, water slipping between their locked lips. Mercy to keep her on her toes.

He kisses her deeply, savoring until he’s certain he’s planted stars in her eyes. She doesn’t resist when he motions for her to continue. He sighs in contentment, eyes shutting, even as the water turns tepid. The warmth of his own skin is enough, as are the palms massaging his belly and thighs. Nothing’s left untouched despite her grousing. Sour mood or not, she knows what’s expected.

A hand wraps around his length, pulling a grunt from him.

He was wondering when she’d get to that.

Nik cracks his eyes to find her watching, drenched, her mouth curled into a small crooked smile. 

There she is.  

Perhaps someone’s feeling more like herself.

He plants his hands on the tile behind her, caging her in. A thin stream of water trickles from his chin, landing on her shoulder and sliding down the curve of her chest. His breath ghosts over her ear, a quiet huff of amusement. In response, she firms up her grip, the water making her strokes smooth and fluid.

It’s always better than the time before. Even just her hands, warm and slightly pruny, are heaven. He’s used to working with men who throw themselves out of helicopters, tear down walls, and kill with their bare hands. To John’s impatient, squeezing fist and borderline cruel efficiency. And while she’s not gentle with him, her grip tight and her rhythm insistent, he craves it all the same.

She buries her face against him willingly this time, lips trailing over muscle and coarse hair, his gold chain. She finds places to bite, to suck, a little leech in every sense. It’s forgivable. What they have is a mutual parasitism, after all. Everyone in their covenant gets something in return.

For a long time, he thought it was just the carnal aspects—something to spice up his and John’s relationship, keep them company. But now, well into their arrangement, with years of traditions and ritual, he knows it’s more than that.

After all, what better way to make a man feel twenty years younger than having a pretty, stubborn girl worship him?

Nik returns the affection, brushing his lips over her temple, murmuring praise, savoring. He bucks occasionally, breaking low assurances with curses he’s taught her. She swipes her thumb over the head of his cock, and he nips the shell of her ear, a quiet growl escaping him.

“Trying to make me shoot early, darling?”

She bites a nipple. Hard. Speaks with it between her teeth. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Kolya.” 

Spiteful hellcat.

His skin’s on fire despite the shower. He may not be on the ground to the same extent as John, but he prides himself on his stamina, which wanes quicker than he likes nowadays. He won’t waste his cum.

He’s an old man now. He’s not eager to test how quickly he can rally.

“Let go.” He straightens, running his tongue over his lip. He gestures with his head, curtly ordering, “Turn around.”

She hesitates. He sees it in the slight shift of her weight, ready to take to whatever she imagines he has planned. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, still convinced that the real punishment is coming.

Surely, a shower can’t be it? That’s what she’s thinking—plain as day.

Her brows pinch, lips parting to speak only to shut, thinking better of it. She’s rarely nervous with him, or any of them, which makes her poker face exceedingly unpracticed.

She does as asked, steadying herself against the wall.

Nikolai admires the view. The curve of her spine, her skin. The pleasing heat pooled at the bottom of his stomach hurts, internally grumbling at the restraint.

He kneels with a grunt, the dull ache in his lower back and shoulders a lingering reminder of his labors. Worth it for this.

He meets her gaze as she peeks over her shoulder. Pressed to the wall, braced on her forearms, she’s drawn inward, legs closed. That won’t do. He fixes her stance with a pat on each inner ankle. Positions her how he wants her. Bent forward, ass out. One arm cushioning her head, the other—

“Hold a cheek, that’s it.” 

Like this, there’s nothing to hide. Water splashes off her mid-back, streaming down in rivers, sluicing over her skin and down her crack. It catches and rolls off every crevice, admixing with the drip between her legs.

If he drowns, he drowns.

One hand grips the back of her knee, the other anchoring to her upper thigh. Then, without hesitation, he gets to work.

The first drag is light. A chance to savor the cherry-like taste of soap mixing with the sweet tang of her cunt. He groans against her hole, nose digging into a cheek, water diverting around the bridge. He tucks his tongue inside to feel a feeble clench, then sweeps.

He saws his tongue through her glistening cunt to the furl of her ass, adjusting his grip when the latter wrings a surprised, indignant whine out of her. He lavishes over the rim until he feels it give, chasing it when she wiggles. It’s not her favorite, never has been, but he can usually—yes, there it is. Her squirming turns from escape as soon as his hand slides up from her knee to her folds.

There’s no resistance at all to plunge two fingers into her, crooking and dragging her back onto his tongue again and again. Teasing her ass with the muscle, drawing out a string of soft, helpless whimpers.

Her whines echo when he withdraws, rising to his feet, digits still buried inside. He drapes over her back, lungs heaving in air. A couple milliliters of water in his stomach.

His cock’s trapped between them, slippery in the cleft of her ass. He pumps his fingers slowly, ignoring her fruitless wiggling, encouraging him along, instead snaking his free hand around her front to find her swollen clit. 

“Mmph,” she sinks her teeth into the forearm beneath her head, eyes rolling back.

He watches, rapt. Every twitch in her facial features, each flutter of her lashes. On the edge of oblivion and circling, stuck, chasing the push and pull of his hand. Frustration mounting with every whine. Oh, it’s cruel. So mean.

Rewarding, though, when he stops. Abruptly. Unceremoniously. Tugs his fingers out and jams them into the pocket of his mouth for a taste.

The desperate complaints that erupt, the raw neediness. It satisfies.

Sometimes, he thinks he should be softer with her, the way John and Kate are. They’d both deny it, but they’re far quicker to fold and to dote. Maybe he should spoil her more. Dig out the Simbir, tell her to pack her bags, and take her somewhere warm where the sun bakes the sand white. But that’s not who he is, and she knew that when she got into this.

He already gives her everything. His time, his money, his hands when she needs them. He fixes her shit. Buys her presents. Listens. That’s enough. More than enough. 

And if she ever wanted something else—Kate’s tenderness, John’s predictability—she’d speak up.

Instead, she’s clumsily insulting his haircut and shivering, their shared warmth spiraling down the drain. He entertains her a second more before reaching around, shutting the water off, and slaps her ass.

“Out, darling.”

Nik takes his time drying her off, running the towel over every bit, all while humming an innocent tune. She simmers, jaw tight, but he pays no mind. Then he repeats the process on himself, glancing into the mirror while she hovers behind him, arms crossed tightly and bouncing lightly on her heels.

“You know, maybe if you had not mouthed off, I would be inclined to move faster.”

“Who says I want you to move faster?” She shoots back. “You might break a hip.”

His face must turn demonic with how wide her eyes go. It is nothing to him, just words, he knows. He is old. Certainly not made for jumping out of birds mid-flight.

It’s enjoyable to make her sweat, though.

“Still in a bad mood, tsarevna? What happened to my nice girl? You wound me.”

Nikolai brushes past her, his nose catching the tart scent of soap clinging to her skin. The fragrance is fleeting, but intoxicating, and better that they share it. He passes into the bedroom, throwing himself onto the bed in a heap. His back hits the mattress with a grunt of relief, and he stretches out, arms bent behind his head. He flashes his teeth, enjoying her struggling composure.

He fists the base of his cock, giving it a couple lazy strokes.

“My back’s killing me.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice. Takes the hint.

With a half-hearted scowl, she slinks up the bed, the haze in her eyes and the slick on her thighs betraying her. Settling over him, she plants her hands firmly against his chest, threading into his hair with just enough bite to be mean.The heat of her radiates, burns, sears his knuckles on the upstroke. Eyes locked, he knows what she’s playing at.

“Hate the snow that much?”

“I hate being cold.”

“So you’ve said. Let me warm you up. Sit down.”

She hesitates, chewing her cheek as if she’s not aching for it, but the command takes.

It’s a team effort, her hand over his, guiding and holding him still until the last moment, and then it’s all her following gravity’s lead. Sinking down onto his cock, impaling herself inch by inch.

He groans. “Fuck, baby, like a glove.”

The heat’s almost too much, her cunt drenched and warmed by the shower and his teasing. He digs into her hips, kneading her flesh with a low sound as she settles fully, her mouth hanging open. It won’t be long before she remembers herself. Remember she’s supposed to be cross with him. Play petulant, mock his age, pretend he’s the meanest old bastard she’s ever crossed paths with.

Nik thrusts experimentally, knocking her out of the heavens, dragging her back down to earth with him.

Her eyelids crack open, but she bites off a noise and presses her lips tightly together, fighting herself.

“You’re not cold anymore, are you?” he asks, his voice low and teasing.

She shakes her head. “Still cold.”

He swats her for that, palm cracking across a cheek. “Then get to it.”

It’s slow going at first. More of her posturing, lifting and dropping herself on his dick as mechanically as possible. But another swat makes her clench and speed up, unable to deny how that feels at least. Again, he lets her play her game. Gives her a taste of victory. In return, he doesn’t spare an ounce of effort. He’s flown through countless hot zones, under fire. With a knife to his throat. While applying pressure to a leaking wound. Ignoring a bit of pussy, even when it’s hers, even when it’s warm and perfect, isn’t difficult.

Kate taught him that—to let their pet wear herself out when she’s in a mood. Makes her pliant.

Before long, her movements falter, trembling with the strain, sweat beading along her forehead and trailing down her neck. Down the curve of her stomach, between her swinging breasts. A drop migrates from the tit squeezed in his hand, tracing a path down his wrist. He lets go to lick it off, chuckling at her wince.

“What’s the matter?” he rasps, and when she doesn’t answer, he jerks up hard, and startles a gasp out of her. “Not enough?”

Her movements are sloppier now, equal parts desperation and exhaustion. Poor baby—having to stand in the shower while he spoiled her, having to work for it now. All the while pretending she hates it. Hates the snow. Hates the cabin. Hates the entire trip.

She can lie to herself all she wants.

But she can’t lie to him.

Not when she’s digging her nails into his chest like she’ll slip through the cracks of reality if she lets go. Not when every breath that leaves her lips shakes with need. Not when she stares down at him, wide-eyed, pupils blown, mouth slack.

Makes it sweeter when she finally caves.

She nods, pausing to grind down on his cock. “Need more.”

He hums, letting his hands trace up the length of her spine, slow and easy. “Mm? Thought I was ‘disgusting’? A ‘perverted old man’?”

Before she can bite back, he moves. In a fluid motion, he grips her hips, shifts his weight, and flips her onto her back. She lands with a sharp gasp caught between her teeth. He follows, pressing in close, caging her beneath him. His palms settle at her waist, thumbs stroking over her heated skin.

“Still think that, pretty girl?” he murmurs, eyes gleaming as his breath ghosting over her throat. “Or do you want to try and be nice again?” He glides back in one harsh thrust.

“F-Fuck, Nikolai–”

“C’mon, tsarevna, surely you can do better than that,” he teases, though his control on language falters. He hits something sensitive, making her throw her head back and knock her knees to his ribs. “Shit, at least your hole is honest, what about your mouth?”

She doesn’t get much of a chance to answer—doesn’t have the breath for it. It’s good, too good. Pulling back, relishing the drag, and pushing back in deep, his pace steady and relentless.

She fights a little when he fucks her through her first orgasm. Teary-eyed, looking up at him, her expression one of pure betrayal with her wrists trapped in one of his hands, clicking his tongue at her feeble attempt to shove him off. One brief look affirms she’s fine, so he snarls down a reminder that she can take it.

When he lets go, it’s only to order her. 

“Hold your—yes, baby, like that.” 

It’s obscene. The view, the sounds. Her hands gripping the sweaty curves beneath her knees, holding her legs up, exposing herself completely. Where her cunt swallows him again and again, soaking him and seeping into the sheets. 

He pauses and pulls out completely, like before, timing it perfectly as her muscles tighten, watching her squirm beneath him. Her hole clenches uselessly around nothing, and her hands twitch, fighting to stay put, with her teeth sunk deep into her bottom lip to keep quiet.

She’s learned that much, at least.

If you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all.

“Look at you. Called me disgusting. But you?” He grinds in slow. “Filthy.”

He thumbs over her clit, drawing messy figure eights over the slippery bud, curling his free fingers in her bush. Some mean word gets tossed his way, but it rewards him with the sharp arch of her spine beneath him. She comes hard just as he pinches her clit, cutting a curse off his tongue with how tight she goes. 

Chain reaction. He lets up the moment he knows it’s inevitable, covering her hands with his own and pressing her knees back as far as they’ll go.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Nikolai grunts, jaw clicking as he heaves himself in as far as he can, burying himself deep. 

He swears it puts years on his life, nullifying whatever time’s stolen. It yanks a dirty laugh out of him when there’s too much, and leaks out around the plug of his cock. Her hole practically spits a glob as he slips free, milky white dribbling down her ass and smearing into his thigh.

The sound of it coming out makes her abandon her hold at last, squeaking out something like oh my god, wrestling with him until he’s flush against her back, head in the space between their pillows. An arm curled around her in a bear hug, the other drifting lower.

His name comes out in a panicked, slurred whisper. “Nik? Nik—Nik—Nik, you c-cah aaaan’t–”

The morning passes into the afternoon before the last of her fight fades. She eventually curls into him like a cat, soft and pliant against him, her muscles relaxed, her cheek pressed to his chest. There’s only one brief interruption in the long stretch of hours—just enough time for him to give her more than just his own fluids, and for him to indulge in the all-important ritual.

He lets her sleep, allowing her to come to on her own time, while he sneaks another drink directly from the bottle, appreciating the burn.

This give and take, the push and pull?

He would not trade it for anything.

She stirs with a small groan, wiping drool from her chin with the back of her hand, blinking slowly, eyes heavy with sleep. A quiet chuckle rumbles in his chest, and he sets the bottle down with a soft clink, his thumb absently tracing the peeling corner of the label.

Her face scrunches in discomfort, pushing herself upright, and suddenly freezes. She cringes, pulling her hand away from a damp spot.

“Kolya?” she murmurs, voice thick with sleep.

“Yes?” 

“C’mon, let’s change the sheets…”

He arches an eyebrow, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Mm, this is the only set.”

“You animal.”

He chuckles again, pulling her back down to steal a kiss.

She sighs against his mouth. “Happy birthday, old man.”

[ohworm-writes]

「✰」 ━━ NIKOLAI HEADCANONS

RATING R - Restricted [ Content Warnings : 18+ mdni, gn!m!f!reader, strong language, alcohol mention and consumption, fluff, possible mistranslation, spider mention, smut, dom!Nikolai, sub!reader, exhibitionism, cunnilingus, praise, degradation, masturbation, riding, hair pulling ]

SYNOPSIS Both general and romantic, safe for work and not safe for work, headcanons for, arguably, one of the most underrated Call of Duty: Modern Warfare characters to date - Nikolai. (This is my first time writing smut so any tips and feedback is greatly appreciated!)

WORD COUNT 1.2k

SAFE FOR WORK

His hands, and just his body overall, run naturally warm. Not to the point where he can be considered a "walking heater" or burning to the touch, but just exudes a constant warmness overall.

Dad-bod, no questions asked. He's not completely cut, not all hard surfaces and muscles - he's got a plush softness to him body that's equally as firm. He works out and keeps himself in shape, of course, because, granted, it's a given that comes with his profession, but he indulges himself equally as much.

He doesn't drink heavily, per se, setting a hard cut-off point for himself that he abides by like it's law, but he won't deny a drink if he's offered it. After all, drinking culture is big in Russia - he can hold his own just fine. That being said, vodka isn't his favorite, but he doesn't hate it by any means, either.

Acts of service and quality time are his love languages. He loves spending time with you whenever he can, especially considering how his profession can take him away for months and more at a time. If it's possible, you're always by his side or he's by yours. Will do anything you ask of him, too - be it chores, tasks, or anything else.

That being said, it can also be argued that giving gifts is one of his primary love languages, too. Any time he's out on a mission, he always tries to get you something from wherever he's been to - there are many perks to being a pilot, now aren't there?

He snores when he sleeps, and he sleeps heavy. Not to the point where you'd have to dump a bucket of ice water over him to wake him up, but to the point where you have to shake him vigorously to get him to slowly rouse. Sounds like a lawnmower when he snores.

His kisses are soft and slow, one hand on your waist or back, pulling you in, while the other holds your chin with such tenderness, guiding your lips to meet his, breathing out a heavy sigh as he relaxes into you.

Opts for Russian terms of endearment over English ones. It feels more personal to him, calling you something in his native tongue rather than something he hears everyone around him call their partners - it's more special to him.

Лапушка/Лапочка - Lapochka/Lapushka (sweetheart)

Любимая/Любимый - Lyubimaya/Lyubimyy (darling)

Surprisingly or not, he's actually a really good cook! He's traveled to so many places and tried so many different kinds of food so, naturally, he's learned to make them for himself. He downplays his abilities, but he looks like an absolute professional when he's in the kitchen.

When he's not away for work, he's actually quite domestic. He has a house of his own far away from everyone else in a remote little town, at least an hour or two outside of any major city. A cabin of sorts, with a place for his own little garden that he tends to (or, more accurately, which you tend to).

He even has his own little stall at the town's farmers market where he sells what he grows whenever it's ready. Everyone has so many theories about him because, honestly - why wouldn't they? A Russian man who lives at the edge of town in a big ol' house, disappearing for weeks or months at a time. It's a cause for concern.

He's so polite and he has the best manners, no question about it.

Though, to combat it, he can be quite a loose-canon. He's reckless and unethical in his methods, especially with work, but some aspects carry over to his personal and domestic life. (If there's a spider, he's pulling out his pistol first, not grabbing a book or a shoe).

He has this sarcastic, almost morbid sense of humor, smug as all hell (worse than Graves, more often than not) but he's genuinely just playful. He's a friend to everyone he meets and can easily match vibes with anyone.

NOT SAFE FOR WORK

Dominant in every sense of the word. He might let you act like you're in control from time to time, but he's quick to show you your place and has no shame in doing it.

His hands are always on you, no matter the occasion. He has to have some sort of physical contact when it comes to you. Be it a hand on the small of your back to guide you, on your shoulder to assure his presence, his leg touching yours when you sit down, a palm on your thigh as he drives.

One-hundred percent an ass man. Squeezing, slapping, spanking, groping - doesn't matter. If he can, his hand is there, no discussion.

He's an exhibitionist, easily. The risk of getting caught, whether if he's by himself or if he's with you, turns him on beyond belief - it gets his head spinning.

Helicopter sex! He's absolutely obsessed with getting you to ride him while he sits in the cockpit, holding onto your hips, fingers bruising into the skin, his legs spread wide with his jumper zipped down as far as it can go, fucking up into you as you bounce on his cock.

Jerks himself off in his helicopter too, biting down onto his fist as he fucks into his hand with purpose.

He's noisy! All grunts and growls, whispering to you how good you feel, practically narrating what he's doing sometimes.

It's a balance of praise and degradation that he gives. Sometimes it fifty-fifty, saying how you're taking him so well, like a good whore should. Sometimes it switches from one to the other (be it extremes or not) - it just depends.

Gives oral like it’s his job. Steady grip on your thighs, pushing them back and wide and buries himself between them for as long as you'll allow him to. He's so sloppy with it too, drooling and spitting all over you as he sucks you off/eats you out. (If you look close enough, you can tell it's started to bleach his beard, too).

Takes his time fucking you. He doesn't like quickies at all - if he isn't able to fuck you at the pace he wants, he isn't doing it. Now, this doesn't necessarily mean that he isn't up for hard and fast sex, but it's more so that he doesn't like time constraints.

More often than not, though, he goes slow (at least, at first), teasing you until you're begging before slowly pushing into you, dragging his cock in and out of you at an excruciating pace.

Speaking of, too, he's such a tease and he knows it.

Loves loves loves pulling and grabbing your hair, forcing you to arch your back as he pounds into you from behind relentlessly, watching the way your ass ripples with every snap of his hips.

Dumbification, too. Loves getting you all cock-drunk and fucked out to the point where you can't think for yourself, teasing you and borderline-mocking you as he slides a hand down your stomach, bringing his thumb down to your clit and making slow circles around it/grabbing the base of your cock and slowly stroking up and down it as he coos at you.

This goes hand in hand with overstimulation - loves making you cum over and over and over again until you can't think and it's too much, only to coax another orgasm out of you.

[secretlysimpash]

3 way call🏷🚁

Warning(s): afab fem reader, smut, phone sex, poly PriceNik x reader, MDNI

The phone rang once...Twice...In the middle of the third ring, a familiar, gruff voice picks up. One that is rough from years of cigars, but also one that holds a softness for you.

"Hey, doll...You need somethin'?" John's voice comes through, accompanied by the quiet drone of a car engine and gravel under tires.

"Jh...John, I was just...Calling to check in." You say, trying to keep your tone as even as possible.

Though...It's a bit hard to keep a steady voice devoid of any stuttering or certain sounds when you're bent over the kitchen counter, a thick cock rutting along your soaked folds. The tip rubs over your clit again and again, before slipping in just enough to make you suck in a deep breath.

"I'm just headin' home now, love. The meeting went smoother than expected. Store was absolutely packed too, but I got what we...Needed for...The cannolis?" You can practically hear his brow furrowing over the phone when you shudder out a breath. "Doll, is everything okay? You hurt?"

You try to string together a response, lips close to the phone. Maybe too close...So Nikolai threads his fingers through your hair, yanking just enough to bring his lips to your ear.

"Well...? Are you hurt, малышка?" He asks in a teasing tone, low enough that Price probably won't pick up on it. His hips snap forward after he shoves the skirt of your dress up more, drawing an honestly pathetic mewl from you. "Answer him, baby..." He ends that last demand with a nip to your earlobe.

"Nnh! No! No, not in pain, John!" You babble out, trying to cover the next moan with a forced cough. "No, I'm okay...Dih...Did they have thhh...The powdered sugar...?" A stupid question from the depths of your fucked-stupid brain. His dick hasn't even been inside of you that long yet...Pathetic, truly.

Silence on the other end. Silence while Nikolai sets into a steady pace, thrusting into your gummy walls.

"'Course they did." John responds after a moment of your own deep breathing. You can hear the sound of his car stopping through the speaker. "I stopped at the store near base, so I'm still about twenty minutes away."

Oh, lovely.

"O-oh yeah...? I'm--ohgod--I'll see you soon..."

Faintly, you hear him kill the engine. Then, the rustling of clothes...A zipper being tugged down.

"I think you'll see me right now." He said matter-of-factly, followed by a soft chuckle. "Nikolai...Help our bird out, hang up."

Your cheeks burn slightly when you realize that he knew. Of course he knew. A soft, frustrated whine leaves you as Nikolai stops thrusting for a moment. He stalls inside of you, cock twitching as he hangs up the call. Not even a second later, a video call comes through.

Nikolai picks up, positioning the phone to keep both of you in view.

"John! This view is fine, yes?"

On the other end, you can see John leaning back in the driver's seat, fly undone and pants shoved down enough to free his cock. He's slowly stroking it from the base to the reddened tip, eyes on you and Nikolai.

"Good...Fine for now. Might ask you to give me a different view soon but...Resume for now, love." He instructs, his eyes darker than you remember. "Keep making those pretty noises for Nik and I...Can't drive the rest of the way home like this..."

Without hesitation, Nikolai goes back to thrusting...Even deeper than before as he buries himself inside of you. He pulls you up slightly, enough that John can see him pawing at your tits, tugging your hardened buds to pull more moans from you.

Once Nikolai and John came, John instructs Nik to keep you plugged up until he gets home...And the rest of the night, your husbands made sure every hole was filled over and over and over.

[local-crying-boy]

🄽🄸🄺🄾🄻🄰🄸

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 - 𝔻𝕒𝕪 6

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙽𝚒𝚔𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚒 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝: 𝚅𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙵𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚔(𝚒𝚜𝚑) 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚝𝚜, ��𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐, 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 + 𝙽𝚒𝚔𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚒 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚔, 𝚞𝚗𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝙴𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚕 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍, 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚝…?

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2.8k (𝙸 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢…)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Translations:

любовь - Love

моя девочка - my girl

Да - yes

это то, что тебе нужно? - is that what you need?

высказывайся - speak up

я так долго хотел тебя - I’ve wanted you for so long

конечно - of course

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Nikolai, a talented pilot and a friend of your Captain, was a good friend of yours. He was kind and funny, caring but still stern sometimes. He was a perfect mixture of an amazing friend and a hardened military man.

When you had first met him, you were meeting the pilot you were going to be the co-pilot of. You were nervous to hell, your hands were shaking and you were terrified that you were going to stumble over your words in front of a complete stranger that you were going to have to work with until the foreseeable future.

You, thankfully, did not stumble over your words and did not make a complete fool of yourself in front of this stranger. Which, therefore, meant that you and Nikolai started to get closer and closer.

You wouldn’t necessarily say that you two were ‘together’, but some people did comment on how the two of you acted like a married couple, or whatever.

However, you couldn’t deny that the two of you did have a ‘relationship’ of a sort.

You slept together, from time to time.

It was a type of ‘friends with benefits’ thing, it it was mostly a thing the two of you did when you were both basically black out drunk. Which, to be fair, didn’t happen often because he could handle his drink, while you… well, could barely keep up with how much he drank.

You were able to remember exactly how the first time played out, a silly half-drunken mistake that you both made that ultimately led into something bigger.

A comment there, a laugh here, one or two innocent touches.

Then you were stumbling through the door of his apartment, trying to claw each others’ clothes off, barely taking a moment to pull away from the sloppy, needy kisses the two of you shared.

“Jesus, Nik…” you breathed out that night as he pushed against the wall, a temporary thing so that he could feel your body close to his as soon as he could.

“I couldn’t help myself.” He muttered against your lips, his hands running up your sides, referring to fact that he had you pressed up against the wall so quickly from closing the door.

Your lips had clashed against each other’s again, resulting in a desperate, messy make out session, his hands slipping under your shirt as his rough hands felt up your soft skin. His other hand was resting on your hips, though you were convinced he was slowly inching downwards.

You were quick to match his pace in the whole thing, your hands running up his chest, you could tell how toned he was even over his shirt, then your fingers started working on taking of his brown jacket.

A low rumble of a laugh met your ears, his lips near to your ear as he bit lightly on your earlobe. “No patience, hmm? You want to get right to it?”

You couldn’t help but shiver at his low, rough voice in your ear, his hot breath hitting your skin only causing shivers down your spine. His accent too, God, his accent. You could practically feel your legs start to turn to jelly at how heavenly his voice sounded, especially right by your ear.

“Fuck, Nik…” You had breathed out quietly, breaking from the kiss to lean your head on his shoulder.

“I know,” he whispered quietly, his hands moving back to your waist as he squeezed them lightly. “You want to get taken care of? I’ll take care of you, любовь.”

Before you knew it, he was picking you up. You let out a shocked gasp, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist so that you didn’t fall right on the floor.

Then, just as fast as you were off the ground, you felt your back hit something softer. The sofa. Clearly Nikolai was too impatient to take you all the way to the bedroom, wanting you here and now. Though, you had to admit, he was gentle with your body, planting you softly onto the sofa, not simply throwing you down onto it.

You were looking up at him, now noticing how large and muscular he actually was now that was on top of you. He had to admit, as well, that he was somewhat shocked at how small you looked now that you were under him. Not like you were a particularly small person, it just was a different perceptive. One that he loved, too.

Nikolai was quickly to remove his jacket and his shirt, leaving you gazing at his massive pecs and the hair covering his chest. He ran a hair through his tousled hair - thanks to you messing it up during one of many make out sessions - then leaned back down so that the two were of you were face to face, pressing his lips against yours once again.

Your arms wrapped around his neck when he was closer to you, a hand grasping the back of his head, fingers entangled with his hair, no doubt messing it up more. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, causing a faint moan to leave your lips, only to be swallowed into his mouth.

“Nik-” you breathed out when you finally were able to take a breath, you felt the ever growing need in between your legs grow and grow the longer the two of you were in such close proximity.

“I know.” He whispered again, his forehead pressing against yours, breath hitting your lips. “I’ll give you what you want in a minute.”

You let out a quiet noise, one unrecognisable to your ears, when you heard him speak again. You were one to hear the differences in others voices, and you noticed the speaking patterns with Nikolai. However, now, with his breathlessness and low tone, you were finding yourself getting wet at his voice.

“What’s that, hm?” He mused quietly, a grin pulling at his lips. “I’ll make sure I’ll pull out all those noises from you, I’ll hear it again…”

His hands moved under your shirt again, pulling it up slowly to reveal your abdomen. “Move your arms.” He whispered, and you obliged without a second thought.

Your shirt was quickly discarded and thrown someone where in room, Nikolai’s hands were soon back on your sides, running upwards to your bra.

“Can I?” He muttered softly, looking you in your eyes, one of his hands moving to the your back to idly fiddle with the strap.

You nodded slowly, looking up at him as your heart raced out of your chest. You were really doing this, sleeping with your co-pilot, your friend.

Your bra was soon discarded after your nod of approval, Nikolai’s mouth attaching to one as he started to plant sloppy kisses over the bud on your breast. He was only encouraged to keep going after you started letting out a small noises of pleasure.

One of your hands moved down to his jeans, fiddling with the button as you tried to undo it with one hand and without looking. He only let out a muffled laugh around your tit as he felt your struggle.

He parted with your skin for a moment, muttering. “Let me help you with that.” Before he undid his jean button and unzipped his zipper.

Just like his shirt and jacket, his jeans were thrown someplace in the living room, living him in his boxers. Even through his boxers, you could tell he was big, and it only looked bigger with his growing erection.

Nikolai leaned his head down again, planting kisses across your chest and collarbone. His hands went to your sides, feeling up you up before he decided on removing your clothes on your lower half.

You pushed his head back up to yours with your index and thumb on his chin, quickly pressing your lips against his in a heated kiss, your hand that had moved his head wrapped in his hair again. You were able to slip out of the shorts you were wearing, a fete proven difficult while you were desperately pushed your lips against Nikolai’s.

The situation was moving so quick in your eyes, one minute you were drinking happily with your co-worker, the next the two of you were laying practically naked on the sofa together. Had you been not so preoccupied with the situation at hand, you would have laughed about the whole thing.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, моя девочка…” he whispered quietly, his nose brushing against yours. “We should have done this long ago…”

You let out a small hum, god, his voice sent heat straight down in between your legs. He was going to start catching on soon, you were sure. Your underwear was sticking to your pussy so much that it was uncomfortable now, you could feel the wetness every time you shifted, even slightly.

“Damn it, Nik…” you whispered quietly, you breath with shaking with anticipation. “I need you so bad right now.”

He let out a huff of amusement, looking down at you with such a stupid, smug grin. “Да? You need me?”

You quickly nodded, you breath hitching quickly when you felt his hand travel down your abdomen, no doubt inching towards your soaked pussy.

“You want me to touch you? Is that it?” He asked with a hushed, husky voice. “Want my fingers inside of you, это то, что тебе нужно? My fingers?”

You nodded once more, shivers running up your spine as you felt him slowly pull down your underwear, down your thighs and then off over your ankles.

He let out a small chuckle when his gaze fell on how wet you were. “You’re this wet already? Just from us making out?”

“You can’t blame me.” You joked with a laugh, looking up at him. Though, you couldn’t blame you could feel your face flushed with embarrassment.

He made a small movement with his shoulders, nodding slowly. “I guess I can’t.”

His forehead was pressed against yours again and he found you in a softer kiss than before, his hand rubbing the inside of your thigh. “You must really need me, though.”

The sound of his voice sent a familiar shiver down your spine, a small breath escaping your lips, Nikolai no doubt being able to feel it.

“Do you like it when I talk?” He asked faintly, his lips unhurried down your neck. “You always have a little reaction when I speak.”

“Nik…” you whispered out, he was so close to where you desperately needed him and he was taking his sweet time moving his hands.

“Yes, yes, любовь.” He chuckled quietly. “Where’s your patience, hm?”

His eyes were fixated on your expression as his first finger slowly slipped into your folds, an amused smirk on his face as he watched your mouth open, a quiet moan escaping your lips.

“Да, you like it, hm?” He mused softly, his lips pressing against your neck, planting wet kisses on your skin.

He found your faint moans beautiful, the way you were still only quiet from his slow movements, the way you only let out soft breaths.

“Oh, you’re so wet.” He whispered quietly, easily slipping in a second digit steadily inside of you. “See how easy I can slip in?”

You let out a gentle mewl as he slowly started to scissor your soaked pussy, your hand travelling up to grasp his forearm as your head leaned comfortably on one of the pillows on the sofa.

“Nik…” you moaned out, head leaning back as your eyes fixated on his as he looked intently down at you.

“What?” I asked with a chuckle. “Go on, tell me what you want, don’t be shy.”

You didn’t answer straight away, simply just relishing in the small amount of pleasure he was able to give you while using his fingers.

“C’mon.” He encouraged quietly, his lips moving up to your ear and lightly biting on your earlobe. “You can do it, speak up, высказывайся.”

“Fuck…” you whimpered, screwing your eyes shut for a split second. “I need you to fuck me, Nik…”

He was content with your bluntness, easier than beating around the bush. “Okay, любовь, okay.”

And with that, he moved his fingers out of your wetness, his index and middle finger coated in your slick. Before he even moved to take off his underwear, he placed his fingers in his mouth and licked off the sticky coating, a soft noise escaped his lips when he did so.

“Who knew my girl would taste so good.” He said with a rumble of laughter in his chest. “моя девочка… all for me.”

Then he started to finally get fully bare, his boxers joining the rest of both your clothes that were previously thrown off. His member stood erected, the size intimating you more than you thought it was, but maybe that was just because you were intoxicated.

He leaned down and gave you a long, passionate, reassuring kiss on your supple lips. His hand on the back of your neck as if to stabilise you.

In a couple of shifts in position, his cock was comfortably resting in between your thighs. You could feel the tip of his shaft just by your aching pussy.

“Are you ready…?” He asked quietly, his hands now moving to your waist, just so he had something to grope and tightly grasp as he fucked you.

You nodded quickly, your breath heavy with anticipation. “Yes, yes…”

The smirk on his face hadn’t ceased, your eagerness and need for him only amusing him throughout the entire affair. Though, even he couldn’t deny how much he wanted you too.

He pushed himself into your soaked, aching pussy slowly, a low groan escaping his lips. He pressed his face to your shoulder, kissing up it to your neck, mostly to get you some type of relief as you got used to his size.

“Oh, God…” you muttered out quietly, inhaling quietly as you felt his cock start to stretch you out, slowly. “Nik, fuck…”

“Are you okay?” He asked gently, a hand slowly moving to cup your face, causing your eyes to open again and lock onto his.

“I’m okay…” you breathed out quietly, nodding as you spoke. “I’m okay… you can move.”

He whispered out a small ‘okay’, his hand quickly moving to move his overgrown hair out of the way of his sight. A low grunt being heard as he started to move himself steadily out of you, before pushing himself back into you.

The two of you were swift to get into rhythm, finding a pace that was fast enough to finally get that pleasure that was building up and was slow enough to let you get used to one another.

His hands eventually moved to your sides, caressing up and down your skin as if he was savouring the moment (which he definitely was). Faint groans and gentle moans filled the room, Nikolai on top of you as he rocked back and forth.

As you started to grow comfortable and used to his size, Nikolai heard the small ‘you can go faster’ escape your lips. He hadn’t hesitated to pick up his slow movements into quicker paced ones, feeling how his cock twitched when he heard your moans pick up.

“Oh, Nik-” you moaned out, eyes fluttering close. One of his hands travelled to your hand, quickly intertwining yours and his, you gladly took it.

“I know, любовь,” he whispered, his lips pressing against yours for a few moments before he started to trail his lips down your neck. “God, I love how you feel around me… you feel so good…”

You felt a shiver run down your spine when you heard that husky, deep voice so close to where your ear was. Nikolai surely noticed how you pushed your hips a little closer to his when you heard his voice.

“You feel so good.” He repeated, his lips going up to your earlobe, his teeth grazing against the skin there. “я так долго хотел тебя, wanted to have you moan under me…”

He loved how, mixed in with his cock thrusting in and out of you, his voice made you moan and shiver in his arms. His free hand moved down to your chest, feeling your breast and playing with the nipple.

“I love how you feel.” He muttered, starting to get a little breathless now. “Love how you feel so much… I want to touch you all the time…”

“Nikolai…” you moaned out quietly, your hand going to cup his face to bring him down into another long kiss.

“What is it?” He asked, kissing your cheek and then your jaw. “Tell me…”

“I… need you so bad…” you whispered, even though he was already deep inside of you, even though he was already touching you, even though he was already kissing you.

“You already have me.” He whispered, continuing pressing kissed all over your skin.

You let out a quiet whine, shaking your head slowly. “Need you to cum in me… fuck me…”

Nikolai let out a chuckle, mostly at the little whine that escaped your pretty lips, he loved how he could make you feel so desperate that you would resort to making such noises. “конечно, I will…”

It was safe to say that that one drunken night had paved the course that you and Nikolai would go down for a long time. It seemed so frequent that the two of you would continue this drunken pattern.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Kinktober {2024} Masterlist

[gothicflowers]

John Price, Nikolai, Rudy Parra

NSFW (MDNI)

He was a chunky kid, his grandma and aunts always made sure he was well fed. He got made fun of until he was about fifteen when he finally had a growth spurt. He wasn’t as muscular as Ghost, nor did he have super defined abs like Soap, no luscious hair like Alejandro. He’s not insecure about his body, far from it, he doesn’t care about his scars or the stretch marks that decorate his skin. Truth is, he just doesn’t find himself impressive. He doesn’t think that his strong arms, softly defined tummy, and muscular thighs are what most what find attractive, he calls himself average.

So when you asked him if he would video himself jacking off he was rather surprised. Especially when you asked if he could try and get from his knees up to his shoulders In the frame.

He let out a small laugh before he spoke into the phone “Why? I’m not that attractive, you don’t want a video with my stomach in it”

“But I love seeing how your chest and tummy muscles flex when you get close” you tell him.

you’re trying hard to convince him from the other end of the line. He had a few boudoir photos of you saved and a clip or two of your intimate moments. But you had nothing of him. And after a few days he gave it some thought. That’s when you got a text with a attachment with a message that said “I hope this can satisfy you until I get home, xoxo”

He’s sitting it a chair that’s barely big enough to fit him. His pants are pulled down just enough for him to free himself. His button up shirt is completely undone exposing his soft hairy chest and stomach, sleeves rolled up to his elbows giving you a clear view of his veiny hands and forearms.

It’s delicious from being to end. He starts slow and soft, wanted to take his time to picture you against him. His hand that isn’t occupied grazes against his chest and stomach, giving his body soft but firm squeezes. He moves his hand up and down in a manner that is similar to how you ride him. After a few more minutes his hands pace becomes slightly faster and his breathing became loud and heavy. Soft groans of your name falls from his lips. You can tell he’s getting close. His sholders come slightly inwards as his pecks flex and flare with his breath, his tummy clenching and hardening as the tightness grows. His moans sound like choked out cries as his head throws back as he comes all over his tummy. The video doesn’t end there. His hand slowly moves again squeezing out what’s left before his thumb rolls over his red tip. His breathing slows down and he lets out a satisfied sigh.

[sapchat]

Where do y'all think Nik's hanger is in MW3?

Cuz like the quick little backgrounds we see it looks kinda like the Swiss Alps... maybe even the Scandinavian Mountains? But I wanted everyone else's opinion on it

I'm also trying to like base if off of how long it might take a helicopter to get from like Sweden/Switzerland to like the Ukraine region since Verdansk is slightly based off of Donetsk, Ukraine

Like... this seems like to me, coming from my little American pea brain to be the Swiss Alps... either way its pretty as fuck and I wanna live there.

Fucking Simon just standing there

[quarterlifekitty]

No one asked but uhhhh baby trapping headcanons

cw: baby trapping. As stated. And dubcon.

Gaz tells you he’ll buy you plan B in the morning. He has no intention of doing that, and he also knows you well enough to know that you’ll forget to ask.

Soap promises to pull out. Promise! But then you end up feeling so good, he just can’t help it…

Ghost tells you he’s been snipped, so it’s fine. He has not been, and it is not fine.

Price is replacing your birth control with sugar pills. Isn’t it so unlucky— well, you know those things are never 100% effective, darl’.

König is tampering with the condoms. Either buying ones that are too small so they rip while he’s inside you, or just poking holes in them. He loves the classics!

Nikolai has you switch positions, and pulls off the condom when you turn around. He laughs as he asks you how his raw cock feels, knowing you’re too drunk on his dick to really fight him off.

[pricegouge]

the erotic pin up thought but imagine nikolai tattooing his favourite pic and surprising his lover with it :3

he's already been away for two weeks when you get a text from an unknown number. you don't need the contact to discern who it is, anyway. in istanbul. things are running long. don't expect me back so soon. you're not expecting a reply when you tell him not to worry, to just keep himself safe, but you're delighted when you get one anyway.

>>You too, milaya.

he messages you at least once a day, just to check in. you've never been able to contact him like this while he's been on mission before and you don't want to ruin it by being too needy but the temptation of your phone lays heavy in your pocket all week. you'd hate to interfere but he makes it hard when he keeps up a slow, steady means of communication. you wonder about the mission, don't dare ask. it seems unlikely that he'd let himself be so distracted if it were something high stakes, though. it's possible he's been relegated to glorified taxi while bigger pieces make their moves and you can't help but sympathize when you picture him waiting around, dining in the quaint kind of cafes he'd never really seemed to find an appreciation for - at least, not on his own. he was always happy enough to take you but it had always been very clear where his interest lied, dark eyes trained on you even as he ordered. observant, filing away each little reaction he could pull from you with savory dishes and select deserts. you flatter yourself, imagining his patience breaking, just a little more each day, just enough to text you, earlier and earlier each day until two weeks have come and gone and you've basically fallen into a constant rapport.

you ask for pictures of the city and he obliges, little peeks into the life he's living while away. yet more evidence this is some bizarrely political mission he doesn't really need to be present for. you note when he moves locales a few times but he tactfully avoids telling you his location again. he stops sending you pictures altogether when you start guessing correctly.

so you start sending him pictures instead. they start out innocent enough, testing the limits of what you're allowed to say on this line. he shows gives no intent to stop you when you show him the view from the summit of a local hike, nor even when you snap a picture outside a local restaurant, its logo left carelessly in frame. he only tells you to enjoy, doubles down when you send a selfie with your cheeks stuffed full of spanakopita.

you start to think he deserves a reward, being on the clock for nearly a month straight and still finding the time to check in with you.

his hangar is a sacred place, one you rarely enter without his accompaniment. too many expensive tools, machinery pulled apart with all its fragile bits exposed. you're always afraid to touch, afraid to break. nik had told you once that every item there was made of sterner stuff, that you couldn't hurt a swashplate if you climbed up on it. funny how you might be taking him up on the offer now.

(you wouldn't know really, the knowledge about what a swashplate even was having gone in one ear and right out the other. not your fault when he looked that good, jumpsuit folded down to reveal a sweaty, clingy tank top, wiry hair visible through the thin ribbed material.)

but you're getting ahead of yourself.

the tarp kicks up a mess when you pull it free, concrete dust having settled in nik's absence. it sends you into a sneezing fit and you curse, smudging your makeup as you try to wipe away the moisture collecting on your lash line. you decide to roll with it when you catch a glimpse of yourself in some nearby chrome, see the kind of effect it brings to your overall look.

your makeup is classic, a bright lip and exaggerated liner. even a painted on beauty mark to really knock it home. the outfit was harder to settle on, your every instinct telling you nik always appreciated when you looked your finest, all dolled up in expensive labels he'd bought for you. but ultimately you'd decided what was good for the goose was good for the gander, pilfering from his closet until you'd found what you were looking for, the exact same outfit which drove you mad.

nik's a big man, his jumpsuit made to reflect that. it drapes away from your waist when you let it hang but it's nothing that a clever safety pin corset can't fix, the top of the suit left to hang over it, hiding it away. long legs are easier to remedy, hems tucked into a pair of hiking boots you hadn't cared about in years, now painted to look the part with the same gear grease you'd smeared all over yourself, tasteful swipes meant to accentuate your soft curves, here on display under the dirty tank top you'd sworn you'd told him to get rid of, now tied tight around your waist to show off your chest. and now with your smudged makeup you think you've finally got it right, the look exactly what you'd been going for when you'd first got the notion in your head.

with the stage already set, the photoshoot goes easily enough. the poses are almost instinctual, the big wrench you wield almost natural in your hands as you lean provocatively over the engine block, tits to squished you doubt he'll ever even notice the size isn't right for the bolts in front of you. you try a couple of different styles, positions which are obviously designed with aesthetics in mind interspersed with more competent looking ones, even though it makes you feel ridiculous when you think of how obvious it will be to him that you don't know what you're doing.

you just have to remember how little he's going to mind it, all told.

editing isn't your strong suit. you're racked with doubt all the while, hyperfocused on every little flaw you spot. it gets easier when you remember the whole shoot is meant to be quite grimy and in the end you settle on a decent collection. you even remember to upload them to a file sharing site to avoid compression, sending him the link with a wink and a warning not to open in front of his comrades.

he calls you naughty immediately, but it's long hours before he can properly respond, a call that wakes you up in the middle of the night so he can pant and moan in your ear about how much he wants to bend you over that engine, peel his suit off of you and eat your cunt from the back. it's the first time you've heard his voice in weeks and the low rumble of it conspires with the slickness in your panties which never fully righted itself after your little photoshoot, the anticipation of his reaction keeping you primed for him. you come together before trading quiet reassurances. how much you miss each other, how you can't wait to see him again. he makes a vague promise to be home soon and you're still so sated that the twinge of loneliness feels like nothing really.

you think that's the end of it. that maybe he'll request more, at most. but then you wake up days later with a furnace at your back and a hairy arm draped over your side. it's still early, the sun not even up yet. you should let him sleep but you can't help rolling within the age of his arm and planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. even in the low light you can see how haggard and hollow he looks, run ragged for too long. his beard is overgrown, the short stubble he usually keeps filling out into a decent beard.

really it's unfair how handsome he looks even now.

"go back to sleep."

you huff a laugh and press another kiss to him. lower now that you know he's awake. above his cupid's bow, your own lips drawn tight with your smile. "but it's morning."

"can't be," he counters, voice thick with exhaustion. "i only just fell asleep."

you hum, distracted as you trace the wrinkles of his forehead. was that one always there? was it new? "maybe it's not wherever you were," you concede. "where were you, by the way?"

"where wasn't i?" he sighs as he rolls away, a great puff of air that cuts through the easiness of the morning, reminds you of what exactly he's likely returned from. the culmination of the mission, even the easy one it seemed to be. he was rarely ever trotted out for emissary visits, after all.

but you don't want to think about all that so you follow him as he rolls, laying yourself across his chest to keep him grounded as you rub against his far shoulder. "well you're home now and my vote's for sleeping in."

his chest rumbles beneath you, a quiet laugh you can feel more so than you can hear. he takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to your fingers before setting it back down in favor of reaching much lower to pull you more properly onto him. your grip shifts from his shoulder to his bicep and you pause when you feel the edge of a bandage there, worry settling low in your belly as you trace the edges of it. "you're hurt?" you demand, but you don't give him a chance to respond before sitting up and leaning across him to turn the lamp on.

it takes you a moment to make sense of what you're looking at, the bandage you'd felt before nothing more than four haphazard lines of tape holding a square of black plastic against his skin. he laughs at your confusion, thumbing the furrow between your brows away as he also sits up, pulling you onto his lap as he reassures you he's not hurt.

"what's that then?" you ask, afraid to peel the edges up and see for yourself.

he's chuckling as he does it for you, the wrap pulling away to reveal the neat black lines and bold color of a traditional tattoo, a plump little pinup in a barely-hanging-on mechanic's jumpsuit, her cartoonishly circular tits squeezed between her own arms as she leaned confidently over simplified engine block. it's good work from what you can tell. his bicep is a big canvas, the tattoo itself appropriately sized, leaving the artist enough room for minute details, smudges of brown oil accentuating your curves and a wry smile below demure lids.

still.

"you didn't," you scoff, too blown away to even know if you're actually mad or not. you don't think you are, but what if he -

what if -

"well it was either this or i get you airbrushed on the side of the blackhawk, but you are mine, and i do not want just anyone to see you like that."

[roosterr]

put me back in it

nikolai x gn!reader wc: 2.3k | ao3 summary: nikolai up and disappeared one day. you thought you'd never see him again, but then he shows up at your door in the middle of the night. warnings: angst, implied smut, kinda ex!nikolai, eventually happy ending

sometimes, on nights where sleep evades you, the memories of him creep back in from the corners of your mind, filling you with the same empty longing that ensnared you like barbed wire around your heart when he vanished all those months ago.

it’s nikolai, the one your thoughts always seem to wander to when you're not paying attention. he never told you his last name, you’re not even sure if that's actually his first, but it never mattered to you back then. 

the night you met still brings a smile to your face. a concert, some obscure band you can't quite remember, where he'd spilled his drink over you and dampened your mood in an instant. with how apologetic he'd been, you found it hard to be annoyed with him, especially after he laid his jacket over your shoulders. he was by your side for the rest of the night, your grievances all but forgotten when his hand met the small of your back and the warmth of his body enveloped you.

you’d given the better part of a year to him, but he’d left you. slipped away in the middle of the night, while you were sleeping in the bed you shared more often than not, and that night was the last you heard from him. waking up alone, without so much as a note explaining why he disappeared, hurt you more than any explanation he could’ve given. no matter how many times you called him the line was always dead, every text left unseen. you resigned yourself to the fact that you would never get the closure your heart yearned for. eventually you stopped trying to reach him altogether.

it happened so fast, a romance so fleeting you’re not sure you have the right to be so torn up about it over a year after you first met – but still, you are. you still think about him when you watch the planes fly overhead, the streetlights against the night sky, and in the company taking up space in your bed as you gaze up at the ceiling.

the guy from the bar looks vaguely similar to nikolai, and that's admittedly why you'd taken him home with you, but the regret was sinking in now and you were already thinking up a way to kick him out as soon as possible.

the sound of a heavy pounding on your door breaks the silence. your companion makes no indication he's even still awake, the arm laid over your abdomen feeling more like deadweight than anything else.

"i'll get it," you mumble, mostly to yourself, tossing his arm to the mattress and pushing yourself up. you feel blindly for a shirt, finding one on the floor by your closet you're sure used to be his, and you don't particularly want to wear it but the knocking has increased in intensity and doesn't seem like it'll stop anytime soon.

so, with an airy sigh, you make for the front door, grabbing your robe as you leave your bedroom to slip over your half-dressed form, and calling out as you turn on the light in the entryway, "i'm coming, shut up!"

in your exhausted state, it slips your mind to check the peephole before you swing the door open and frown at whoever is on the other side. if you had, perhaps you wouldn't have opened it in the first place.

your muscles seize up, and in an instant it's like you're paralysed, one hand on the door and the other holding your robe together, scarcely even breathing as you lock eyes with the man in front of you.

it's nikolai.

his hair is a mess and his stubble is more grown out than you'd ever seen it, as if he had no time to fix his appearance before coming here, but he's no less beautiful even after all this time. the way his chest rises and falls indicates that he'd been running, and you can tell he's holding something behind his back.

your eyes narrow as you meet his, in curiosity or malice you're not quite sure. his brows are knitted in what could only be regret as he opens his mouth, but by now your sense has returned to you and you go to slam the door in his face. it doesn't shut, and you look down to see his boot wedged in the frame, his free hand coming up to push it back open as you gape at him.

he whispers your name, so softly it barely reaches your ears, but you hear it and the familiar shiver it sends down your spine scares you more than anything.

"let me explain," he's pleading, his gaze earnest as those endless brown eyes stare into yours. you stop trying to close the door on him, against your better judgement, and let him push it open once more.

"what could you possibly have to say that would excuse what you did?" you hiss, igorging the tremble in your bottom lip. you fold your arms tightly over your chest as he eyes fall guiltily to the floor. "it's been seven months, i thought you were dead, nikolai!"

"i will tell you everything, солнышка, please, just let me in." he murmurs, his voice uncharacteristically weak as he leans against your doorframe. his smoky scent reaches you all at once, a wave of nostalgia crashing over you from simply standing so close to him.

your heart constricts, that barbed wire he left there making itself known again, but you take a step back anyway. you don't look at him as he crosses over the threshold, closing the door behind him and making a beeline for the living room without meeting his eyes once. you hear him remove his boots before he trails after you, and curse him for being so considerate.

the crinkle of plastic meets your ears as he follows, and you turn around to see him bringing a small bouquet of roses out from behind his back. the quiet of the night buzzes in your ears, unable to tear you eyes away from the crimson petals as he holds them out to you, and the way the light from the hall illuminates him from behind. the thought crosses your mind that you should reject them, but you can’t bring yourself to. you take them from him, careful not to let your hands touch, and set them gently on the coffee table.

you sink into the corner of the couch while he does the same at the opposite end, the distance sending another aching twinge through your heart. despite the pain that he put you through, the resentment you hold for him, you still longed to be comforted in his arms, for him to hold you close like before.

"explain, then." you murmur, his gaze causing goosebumps to ripple across your skin as you curl into yourself. the anger has left your voice, replaced by the never-ending tiredness that he left you with.

he clears his throat, something nervous in his body language. it's unnatural, so unlike him that it rubs off on you too when you hear it in his voice, "i’m sorry, my love–"

"don’t." the endearment still gives you butterflies, even though you know it shouldn't, and you wish it didn't.

"i couldn’t– you would have been in danger if i stayed with you, i couldn’t do that to you." he leans forward, his elbows on his knees, the crease between his brows deepening with every word.

"what do you mean danger?" you frown again, sitting up straight in disbelief and slight unease from the seriousness of his expression. he purses his lips and looks away from you. "nikolai?"

"i’m…" he pauses, running a hand through his hair. his obvious anxiety only feeds into your own as you wait for him to continue, subconsciously leaning closer to him. "i am a dangerous man, солнышка. i make a lot of enemies."

your heart stutters at that, a fear creeping in from the corners of your mind – not for yourself, but for him. "you’re not explaining anything. just tell me, nik."

there's another pause. he shuffles closer again, meeting your eyes with a look that has the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

"i’m a mercenary." he finally admits. it was a surprise, of course, but you couldn't help but feel like it made sense. all the secrecy you'd looked past before, working odd hours but never telling you more, even when you'd pried.

he moves closer again, letting his hand rest next to yours on the cushion. you feel the warmth radiating from him, and your fingers twitch with the effort of keeping them still.

"i work with dangerous people, special forces…" he lets his voice trail off, taking in the shock of your expression. "we fight terrorists, my love, people who would do anything to hurt us."

you scoff, humourless and a lot more defeated than you intended, "so you thought you’d disappear in the middle of the night? let me think you hated me?"

a shaky breath escapes him, his hand finally closing the distance and covering yours. you can't even bring yourself to think you should stop him anymore, the part of you that's missed him for all these lonely months wins over easily and you lean even more into his touch.

"i never wanted to hurt you, милая, i wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to you." he murmurs, barely any space between you now but he still doesn't push you past what you're ready for. "i never should've left you like that, and i'm so sorry that i did."

"why’re you telling me all of this now?" you whisper. your uncertain gaze meets his and it's like the rest of the world has faded away. his shadow covers you and you lean even closer, feeling his breath fanning over your face.

"because my life isn’t complete without you." his eyes search yours, his free hand coming up to run his fingers along your jaw in a featherlight touch that leaves your skin tingling in his wake. "you have every right to hate me, but i have loved you for every moment we were apart."

it's involuntary when you lean into his hand, his palm cupping your cheek so tenderly as the whisper of his name passes your lips, "nik…"

his forehead touches yours and any opposition you had to letting him near you again is forgotten. "please, let me make things right, my love."

instead of responding, you push forward and close the final gap by pushing your lips against his with a desperation that he easily reciprocates. he sighs into your mouth, shifting his hand to the back of your neck and pulling you impossibly closer, tiling his head for a better angle. it's sweet and passionate, and it takes you back to when you first met him, the bittersweet memory bringing the sting of tears to your eyes.

you pull back after a moment, your breathing laboured and your eyes glassy as they flutter back open. he smiles softly when you bring your own hand up to cradle his face, leaning back slightly to meet your gaze.

"i'm not forgiving you," you start, stroking your thumb over his cheekbone. you watch his eyes widen at your words and his smile falter, and you quickly continue, "but, i am willing to give you a second chance."

his grin returns, and he presses his lips to your cheek in a lingering kiss. "i will never hurt you like that again, милая." he murmurs in your ear, giving your nape a gentle squeeze where his hand still rests.

the tension between you is gone, he feels comforting and safe, like he always had before; everything feels right again.

the spell is broken unceremoniously by the guy from the bar – who you'd, somewhat embarrassingly, completely forgotten about – piping up from the doorway, "who the hell is that?"

"fuck–!" you startle, parting from nikolai and staring wide-eyed at his silhouetted form over nik's shoulder. he's staring the two of you down with a look that's a lot more offended than you think it should be, considering you only met a few hours prior and he hadn't been significant enough for you to even remember his name.

with a tired groan you drag a hand down your face, securing your robe across your front as you stand. he's dressed, thankfully, so you pinch the bridge of your nose and wave him off noncommittally, "can you just go?"

he scoffs and throws his arms out to the side in annoyance, taking a step towards you as he spits, "seriously? you're just gonna–"

nikolai interrupts his complaining by standing to his full height, towering over the man as he puts a hand out to stop him in his tracks. it works, and whatever he was planning on saying immediately dying on his tongue as he looks up at nik. 

the silence in the room is stifling as your eyes dart between the two men, but it's short-lived. nik takes a menacing step towards him, and though you can't see his face, you're sure he's wearing a deadly expression to match.

it takes less than a second for him to cut his losses, quickly backing out into the hall and fumbling hurriedly with your front door. nik follows him as he leaves, making a show of slamming and locking the door behind him.

he turns off the hall light before returning to you, bathing the two of you in darkness and strips of pale moonlight. your skin bristles as his fingers gaze your sides, his thick arms finding their way around your back as your hands rest at his collar.

"no need for cheap imitations," he utters, low and sultry, the vibrations of his voice felt under your palms, "you have me now, мои люблю."

[sirenmoth]

Bookworm

Based of this post i made. GN Reader

If he was sure about one thing, it was your avid love and passion for reading, he could leave you with a book alone while a worked in his office or went to run errands and you wouldn't have moved at all, expect to change the position you were reading in. You were absorbed into your own private worlds, books of different genres layed scattered around the house, stacked up agaisnt each other on any surface you could find to place one, on overcrowed shelves and side tables, even tucked up against the wall on the floor.

It was cute to see you nosedeep in whatever book you were reading but it did concern him to some extent, he managed to sneak up on you a few times, having to physically drag you to eat or to rest your eyes.

Well, by sneaking, more like louding stomping around the house, purposley making as much noise as possible, still you sat and read undisturbed by his actions.

Nothing seemed to work, the amount of books now meant he's accidentally walked into a stack on the floor or nearly had a a few fall off the shelves they cluttered, "Are you planning on moving this anytime soon?" He asked, looking in you direction.

You sat on the sofa, a blanket over your legs and a book you were somehow already nearing half way through even though it was bought a week ago, laid open on your lap, not looking up from the words you were focusing on, you nodded absent mindlessly, eyes never leaving the paper back in front of you, turing the page to start the next chapter and curling up more under the blanket.

He sighed, knowing he wouldn't get an answer from you in a while, he couldn't complain about the placements, the only spare room in the house was turned into his at home office, his own space he can retreat to if needed, so getting mad that you turned the living room into your own space was wrong,

It was only fair you got your own space, an area where you could read and store your books without worry, and so he could easy know where you were.

After reaching the midway point of the novel, bookmarking it with the bookmark he bought you as a gift after you looked at him in disgust when he told you to dog-ear the page like he does, moving the blanket from your legs and stretched. Looking around, the lack of books around caught you off guard, it instantly became clear how clean and decluttered everything looked, like you could finally breathe after drowning for so long.

"Where'd all my books go?" you mutter to yourself, getting up from where you've been sitting for who knows how long, a noise from the sunroom caught your attention, it was at the far back of the house and neither you nor he used it for much other than storage.

Calling out to him, knocking on the door to the room before opening it, he stops you " Darling! Wait there, i wanna show you something." he called from inside, sounding a little out of breath, you sighed hoping it wasn't another one of his retreat rooms, "It's not done yet." a loud noise followed by the sound of him grunting, like he was moving something around.

Puzzled, you waited outisde the room, unsure of what was happening that was so important, "Have you seen my books?" you asked him from the other side of the door, crossing your arms over your chest, "I can't find them anywhere." you add. Finally the door opens just enough for him to squeeze out and to keep whatever was inside hidden, "What was that?" you question him again, even more confused than before.

He smiled at you, taking you hand in his, "I have seen you books, so don't be mad at me." he explained, "I found somewhere for you to put them, i know you have a habit of going into that pretty head of yours when reading." That explanation did nothing to help your curiosity. He motioned to you stand in front of the sunroom door, with him behind you.

"I hope you like it, took me hours." He kissed the back of your head, reaching out from behind you to open the door.

The sight in front of you left you speechless, a whole mini library was there, right in fron of your eyes. Taking a few steps into the now renovated room, taking in the sight, a double loveseat big enough to hold two people, was pushed up agaisnt the far right wall, complete with pillows and a throw blanket over the back of it. A singular arm chair in the left corner sat with its own pillow, propped neatly in the center of the chair. Bookshelevs, both refurbished and handmade lined every available wall, reaching upwards towards the ceiling and skylights, creating a warm and cozy feeling. A ladder, which you noticed was on a whell system, sat attache to the larger bookshelf in the room. A decent sized coffee table was placed in front of the double love set, already with a few book ready to be read.

A fair of arms snake their way around your waist, pulling you out of you dazed stated. "Do you like it? Thought you could have your own space to retreat and relax." he said, watching as your eyes looked from one thing to another, "I tried my best to order them how you like it, hopefully it's ok." sheepishly he smiled, his eyes never leaving your awestruck expression.

Turning to him with the biggest smile on your face he's ever seen, you hug him tightly, squeezing him as you buried you face in the crook of his neck, giving him chase butterfly kisses on his neck and jaw, each a silent thank you for his gift and effort. "I love it, thank you so much." you reply, letting go so you explore your new personal space, running you fingers over the polished sheleves, scaaning the small decor pieces and details he added, little trinkets he brought back for you from his travles.

He sat down on the sofa, watching in adoration as you wondered around your new private world, reading the titles off the spines of the books on the shelves, happy with himself and his work, ignoring the gnawing feeling that he'll have to possibly make a new section soon when you inevitably run out of space. You grabbed a book of one of the shelves and made your way over to him, settling down between his legs, getting comfortable with his back slightly agaisnt the back of the sofa and the armrest, one leg streched out on the loveseat with you perched in betweem his legs.

His arms were back around your waist the second you stopped moving, you grabbed the blanket and threw it over both of your legs, arranging so it covered you both completly, your back against his chest and his arms around your waist, you set the novel you choose down on your lap and opened it.

A sigh can be heard behind you, smiling softly to yourself, he's not moving anytime soon and you know he just figured that out. A few minutes after you opened the book, you feel another set of eyes peering over your shoulder at the pages in front of you, "Are you reading over my shoulder?" you playfully ask, earning a grunt in response. Giggling as you readjust the book, so he could totaly not read over your shoulder.

Whatever he had planned today wasn't going to happen and can wait, this is more important.

-- Simon "Ghost" Riley, Captian John Price, Nikolai, John “Soap” Mactavish, Kyle “Gaz Garrick”, Logan Howlett and any f/o you can think of

[gothghostiie]

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