#cod nikolai x reader

[sprout-fics]

Silver Fox

(Nikolai x F! Reader)

Call of Duty Masterlist

Rating: Explicit (MDNI) Wordcount: 5k Tags: Character study, Age gap, Light Dom/Sub, Fluff, Slowburn, Smut, Dominant Nikolai, Soft Nikolai, Aftercare, Orgasm delay/denial, Light BDSM dynamics, Cuddling, Corruption kink, Brat Taming, Overstimulation, Dirty talk in Russian, Power dynamics, A dose of manipulation but everything is consensual Warnings: Brief mention of capture and torture A/N: This is my first and most likely not my last attempt to write for Nikolai. I really like this dynamic and welcome requests for more

When Nik first meets you, you try to rob him.

You’d been younger then. Wilder, scared of a world you struggled to survive in. With hardly a roof over your head, always an empty belly, chased by ghosts of a past you struggled to leave behind. You were desperate, constantly looking for a way out, clawing and scrambling at the stone alleyways in hopes you could one day see the sky.

He finds you like that- as a dirty, fierce little stray. In a grimy jacket, eyes wild, dirt smeared across your face, you hold up a knife to him and demand his wallet. Stupid, you know, but shivering, scared of the world that was destined to eat you alive, choosing a target far bigger than yourself.

Cute, he’d admitted later.

It takes little effort from him to twist the knife from your hand, examining it as you froze in a shock that only seems to multiply when he asks you if you want a warm meal. The offer is too tempting to ignore to your growling stomach, but in reality it’s the barest hint of softness behind his eyes that has you follow him like a kicked stray out of the cold.

Little did you know, behind that softness lay his own hunger. A deep, prowling thing that circled you beyond your sight.

He takes you to a quiet little eatery, out of the way, only three tables in what amounted to a shed. One of his favorites, he tells you with a smirk. The cook gives you both a look, suspicious of the man who had escorted in a woman much younger than him, dirty and nervous as you are. Nik lets you order, smirking still as you nervously pick something small, cheap, and he instead orders something large and warm for you. He watches you scarf down the entirety of your meal, gazing at him suspiciously all the while. He’s quiet- appraising you later realized.

You know of men like him. Gangsters, thugs, men who work alongside the mafia or even worse. Men from the underbelly of Russian society who walk in plainclothes and hold dark secrets. You know the danger of accepting favors from men like him. Be it your body, your servitude, or a debt paid in blood, men like those you feared would come to collect in due course, would bleed you dry and leave you ruined given the chance. The only charity they offered served their own interests, the cause they flew their flag for.

It became clear as time grew that Nikolai was not much different, that he had taken one look at you and had seen the thing you never saw in yourself:

Potential.

In the end he tells you if you ever need work to come find him, and find him you do.

You’d been foolish, you think back, if only because you’d been so young, naive without the lessons he would soon teach you.

It’s simple things at first. Taking packages and dropping them off at seemingly random locations, picking up things from shady characters who’d let their eyes rake down your form. In exchange Nikolai offers you a warm place to sleep, a roof over your head, hot meals and shelter from the ghosts that chase you. Distant, professional, but there all the same. Steadfast, waiting for your skittishness to shed itself before he comes closer. Waiting. Expectant.

Curious, you’d watch as he tinkers on his helicopter, cleans his cache of weapons, fixes the aging appliances in his house outside Saratov where the remains of the Soviet legacy lay etched between the old manors of the дворянство.

You observe, quiet at a distance, and ask him about the life he led, to which he was vague.

“I fix things.” He tells you simply, snapping a cartridge back into place with practiced efficiency.

You wondered then, if he was trying to fix you too.

He welcomes your interests in his work, skittish though you are, ready to dart back to a safe distance at a moment’s notice. You peer over his shoulder as he works at his tool bench in the hangar, assist him as he tightens screws on his helicopter, pass him ingredients as he cooks dinner for you both on his stove. Rather than answer any questions you pose, Nik elects to show you himself, putting his hands over yours and allowing them to guide you with ease in his tasks.

His protege, he introduces you as to those that ask. The younger woman he had taken under his tutelage. You’d almost resented it at the time, still suspicious, ready to flee at the first instance of betrayal. Yet inside you knew it was too late. In the same way that wolves became dogs, you found yourself near the fire of him, resting your weary bones as he offered you a place to stay.

Even if he held a leash behind his back.

Nik is careful, stern as a teacher but tender as a friend. In moments of learning his voice is whip-sharp to correct any mistakes, but in the quiet evenings he is almost soft, blunted at the edges in a way that betrays his indulgence in you. Each time he gets close, you try to ignore the way his touch lingers, holding back, greedy but restrained as your heart flutters inside your chest. Purposeful, careful not to spook you lest it ruin the things he’s predestined for you.

You try not to miss him when he leaves you behind for work, reminding yourself this is only temporary, to not let your guard down lest he burn you. He will someday stop having a use for you, and you will once again walk into the wild seeking shelter under a different name.

When he returns, you try to ignore the relief that bubbles inside your chest, the desperate hunger of a lonely thing looking for warmth.

You don’t see the glittering silver collar he envisions in his mind.

The teaching moments are constant. It’s not long before Nikolai begins taking you on assignments rather than leaving you at the house alone. You become familiar with the inside of the chopper, and learn to doze in the co-pilot seat when you are allowed. You help him catalog his ammo and supplies, listen over your headset as he explains piloting to you. In meetings with suppliers and clients he tells you quietly to stay inside the chopper behind him, and you peek out to see the eyes of his ‘friends’ flicking towards you. Curious, even as Nik stood as a stalwart wall between you and them.

In the passenger seat of his truck you learn to carefully balance his chosen rifle on your lap, feeling the stiffness ease from your shoulders as he lays a heavy hand across your nape. On long drives he stops at sunset to admire the view, and you hover close to his side as he smokes long drags of cigars. When he encourages you to try you cough on the smoke, and he thumps you between your back gently, chuckling even when you shoot him a glare. The next morning finds you somewhere new, and the lessons resume.

All the while his careful guidance reminds you to keep your eyes up, to stay alert, focused, to heed his warnings and obey his orders when given.

Nik is an endless wealth of knowledge when it comes to his profession. He’s deliberate in the things he teaches you: how to calculate the distance of a target 100 meters away, what the warning lights on the helicopter console meant, how to handle the kickback of a machine gun, where the major organs of the body were located and how to slice them open in deadly fashion. You take to the lessons easily as predators take to the snap of bone between jaws, and can’t help but preen with every accomplishment, every feat you manage to show him.

“Good girl.” He offers when you finish the task assigned to you, noticing the way you stiffen, a shiver racing down your spine at the praise. Testing the waters, quietly moving goalposts in his mind as he maps your future before you.

When you fell ill during that first winter he nurses you, sits your sluggish form up in bed against his chest and watches as you finish what little food you could stomach. When you insist on drinking with him one evening, pass beyond your tolerance, he smooths a hand over your back as you bend over the toilet bowl and whispers soothing reassurances in your ear. When you cut your palm on the edge of a tool bench in his helicopter hangar he lets you squeeze his hand as he pours alcohol over the gash, reminding you the wound would make you stronger. When you take a swig of the vodka to settle your nerves after your first mission with him he hums happily, murmuring an ounce of praise that settles low in your veins like warm liquor.

You let him, suspicious though you are, so desperate for a place to belong, to be taken care of, to have somewhere in which to shelter the storm. Nikolai is your mentor, yes, but more than that Nik shapes himself into your ally, into someone you can turn to, to a man you look to and seek praise from like turning your face to the sun.

Teaching you to eat from the palm of his hand.

You trail behind him at a distance, eyes softening and heart weary, seeking a soft place in which to rest itself. Nikolai is not a soft man, you remind yourself. Tender as he can be, his true heart remains a shadowed thing like all the men and women he keeps close. Even so you cling fast to that same shadow, hovering at his side as he makes a place for you there.

He’d plucked you from the wilds, had taken you like a starved, injured, feral animal into his care. You’d growled and snapped at him, unsure, suspicious of the twinkle behind his eyes that betrayed intentions you couldn’t quite discern. It was as if he knew the things you were capable of before even you could see them, the way he shaped you slowly under his care.

You stay there when he introduces you to his allies, to Price who looks at your skittish, suspicious nature and to Nik with a disapproving but knowing stare. You hear the meaning to it later as you creep downstairs to listen to them smoke outside.

“I won’t say anything.” Price tells him gruffly. “God knows I have my own vices. Just don’t ruin her, Nik.”

Nikolai takes a long, purposeful pause as he considers.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, captain.”

Price chuffs, but comments no further.

Slowly, Nik begins to move closer to you, getting you used to his touch. It seems incidental at first. Squeezing too close behind you in the kitchen and offering a chuckling apology as you feel his hips press against your spine; leaning over you to inspect your work, rubbing a hand between your shoulders after a hard day and relishing the tiniest little sigh you offer in return.

In his teachings he is deliberate, gauging your progress under a keen eye, offering life lessons just as he purrs little doses of praise at your progress. He knows you wouldn’t leave now, you’ve become too accustomed to a life under his care. So slowly, Nik begins to test the boundaries of your trust in him, pushing a little farther each time and leaving you dizzy in the wake of him.

In the hot days of summer he works with his shirt off, the broad span of his back glistening with sweat. You tell yourself it is just the warmth of the sun that lays upon your cheeks, but even then you find your eyes straying, catching his own knowing gaze at a distance. Teasing, waiting, expectant.

“Smells good.” He hums over your shoulder as you made breakfast one morning, bacon simmering in the pan. “You’d make a good wife.”

When you feel heat rise to your face, stammering and scandalized, Nik only laughs.

“Шучу.” He grins. “Just kidding.”

It doesn’t seem to be that much of a joke, not with the way Nik is so comfortable around you these days, easing into your personal space just enough to make your heart race, dangerous thoughts of the ‘what if?’ lingering even after he’s pulled away.

On longer jobs he puts a cot in the back of the chopper to sleep on. Normally he likes to sleep in the pilot seat- vigilant and ready to take off at the slightest hint of trouble. Yet sometimes he complains about his aging back and squeezes in behind you, tucking you against the wall and arranging you so you both share what little space there is. You can’t really find it in yourself to complain, taking in the warm, musky scent of his and letting it lull you into dreams.

Slowly, you come to him. You ease into his touch, to the way his hand rubs across your shoulders in greeting, the way he holds your hand as you stiffened during client negotiations. In the evenings he sometimes watches terrible knock-off action movies, rolls his eyes at the impossible stunts as you nod off on his shoulder. Comfortable, you curl into him- seeking the place you belonged, and Nik quietly smiles at the wild creature that has made a home in his heart.

On the odd stretches of time where there are few assignments to follow through from his strange clientele, Nik takes you on his version of a holiday. He brings you to places you’ve never been, restaurants in cities you didn’t know existed.

“Try this.” He tells you in that smirk of his, lifting an oyster from the Caspian Sea to your lips, loaded with butter and spices. You make a face as you swallow, lips closing around his fingers, and don’t notice the way Nik’s eyes flick to the bob of your throat, distracted. “Good girl.”

The praise sends a shiver up your spine, alighting inside you with the need to please him- this man who has taken you in, sheltered you, is teaching you everything he knows.

You don’t realize the danger you’re in when you realize you’ve gotten too comfortable.

It’s a sunny Wednesday morning when you’re taken.

Being the pretty, feral thing at Nik’s side comes with a fair bit of attention. People begin to notice the beautiful vixen at his side. Whispers of your skills echo in the halls of underground bunkers and private airliners. Nik is known to work alone, so to see you with him as his protege, his partner, his co-pilot that he trusts as much as he mentors, means that you’re a target.

You pop out for groceries on his old Soviet era moped, having pestered Nikolai for pirozhkis for dinner- to which he told you only if you fetched the ingredients yourself. You ignore the small gaggle of men smoking near the corner store, common as they were in your neighborhood. It’s only when you come out with your arms full that they spring on you.

Your head cracks against a stone wall. The world goes dark.

When you come to, you’re somewhere you don’t recognize. barely lucid, head pounding, they try and ask you questions about him you can’t answer. There’s things Nik keeps secret from you for your own safety, and the things they want to know are among them. The blows come, knock you from your chair, and you’re left alone in the cellar, trying to understand how the nightmare you dreaded before you met him could have come true after all.

The difference is- now they’ve made a mistake. They took you after he’d taught you how to survive.

The men who took you are stupid. They underestimate you, tying the ropes too loose for your frame. You manage to get your hands free first as Nik has taught you, then your feet. In the corner of the cellar a sliver of light peeks through broken slats, and despite your battered limbs and bruised hands, you peel the plank off quietly so it reveals the underbelly of the house. Like digging a den, you crawl your way into the earth, beyond the foundation, and stumble into the night before your captors even decide to check on you.

Escaping the snare, as wild things do.

It’s early in the morning when you manage to stumble to the back gate of the house. You trip over a loose rock in the soil, collapse in a heap of bruised limbs and fatigue just beyond the back step. The door swings open, and you close your eyes before you can see the sight of Nikolai with a rifle in his hands, ready to fend off intruders.

“лисёнок.” He murmurs hoarsely as he gathers you in his arms, cooing his name for you as you whimper into his chest. Injured, broken, limping back to him. Only him. “What did they do to you?”

You don’t tell him, too exhausted to form words, slumping against him and letting the crash of adrenaline pull you blissfully under.

When you wake up, you’re in his bed. Bandaged, tucked in tightly. He’s washing blood off his hands in the sink.

You don’t realize until later it isn’t yours.

You never ask him what he did to those men while you were asleep, maiming them, killing them for the offense of hurting you, only to come home and haul your figure close to him with whispered reassurances that they’d never touch you again.

Things...change after that.

It wasn’t as if Nik wasn’t affectionate before- he was. Nik’s fondness of you was intertwined with his mentorship. Yet there was always a sort of distance involved. Teasing, playful, interested but careful not to push too far lest he spook you away too soon.

Now, as you cling to him in the aftermath of your capture, shiver and feel your bandaged fingers grip at his shirt, Nik is indulgent.

He lets you sniffle into his chest, rubs his hand along the knot of your spine and rumbles low, soothing words in Russian. He hauls you to him, calls you quiet pet names, cuddles you close and reminds you you’re safe.

In your recovery Nik spoils you, allows you to take all the time you need. You sleep until noon, a rare luxury under his tutelage, and find him cooking your favorite meals when you wake. When you call for him, he’s there, helping you ascend the stairs with your mending knee. He sets you on the couch in warm blankets so you watch movies of your choice until you doze off, to which he carries you upstairs and tucks you quietly, sweetly, back into bed.

All this and more, as Nikolai silently declares to himself that he is never letting you go.

When you recover, the gentleness doesn’t seem to stop. Yet with it comes a sternness, a demand to yield to his promise to care for you, to keep you safe. The hole of want inside you yawns open for him, looking to his care, his guidance, seeking ways to please him. You’re softer now, no less deadly, but the softness in the aftermath has you brushing against him, yearning for his embrace, which Nik offers readily.

With his nose buried in your hair, your arms wrapped around his waist, Nik smiles at the silver snare he’s circled around your throat.

and, silently, he begins to pull.

“Behave.” He tells you when you snarl at a supplier who tries to upcharge him, and Nik lays a heavy hand on your nap that somehow feels like a warning. It settles low in your stomach, warm and liquid with a want you don’t understand yet but need all the same.

“That’s my girl.” He hisses as you stitch a gash on his arm after close contact when you were flying out of a hot zone. He takes another swig of his vodka and groans just as a drip of red oozes down your fingers. You shudder at the sound, feeling something pull taut below your belly, trying to echo the praise quietly in your thoughts.

“Pretty thing.” He smiles as he offers you one of his spare shirts on mission. You swore you had packed more, but the scent of him clings to your skin and it distracts you enough to not question it. You warm under his words, curl up beside him when he gestures. Obedient, wanting.

You think he’s gone from the chopper that night, tucked on the cot and sneaking a hand under your panties to rub idly at yourself- thinking of him. You’re surrounded by the scent of him, swaddled by a phantom of his warmth, and imagining what it would feel like to have his fingers inside you, stroking, coaxing wetness to trickle down the breadth of them. What would it be like, you wonder, for him to hold you like that, to whisper those filthy praises in your ear so you clench down on him?

Footsteps, boots on the metal grate, and a low chuckle.

You yank your hand free, but it’s too late.

“Don’t stop on my account, Дорогая.” He murmurs, and you back against the wall with a shuddering little gasp, skin on fire as Nikolai couches over you, ready to eat you whole. “I was only gone for a few minutes- did you miss me that much?”

The utter confidence in his voice, the knowledge that you were thinking of him, has wetness ooze between your thighs as you try to find your voice. It’s no use, because Nik swoops down against your lips, humming in satisfaction as you ease against him with a little whine, slowly reaching for him until you drag him down onto the cot with you. Surrendering at last.

Hours later, his seed dripping between your thighs, you doze on his chest while he smokes. Exhausted, entirely worn out from the number of orgasms he’s wrung from you, lulled to sleep by his calming heartbeat under your ear.

It’s the first night of many. Like a dam collapsed, Nik releases the full tidal wave of his desire onto you, never missing a chance to haul you to him, to bend you over, to sit you on his cock as you groan and leak around the stretch of him inside you. You realize far too late just how much Nik has been holding back, his hunger for you as boundless as your desire to please him, to stay.

He has you there in the chopper on the cot that can barely hold the weight of his thrusts, back in his bedroom where you collapse face first into the pillows. He eats you out slow and luxurious with you balanced on the kitchen counter, has you brace on his tool bench as he drapes himself against your spine and ruts into you from behind.

“Taking me so well, little fox.” He purrs in your ear, nimble fingers working at your clit as you hiccup and mewl for it. “So tight. Made for my cock, hm? Твоё тело сводит меня с ума. Fuck.”

Nik is an unstoppable force, with stamina you struggle to match. He keeps you in his bed as long as he is able, staving off his orgasm if only to prolong yours, trying to draw as many as he can from you even when your hand smacks at the headboard, trying to tap out. 

“Just one more.” He growls as he tries to fuck you through the mattress, glued to your back so the heat of his frame, the swell of his cock inside you is the only thing you can feel. You’re teary eyed, gasping, the lewd squeal as he thrusts into you filling the quiet of the bedroom. Your eyes roll back just as he nails that perfect bundle of serves inside you, voice caught on a choked sort of whimper. “Just one more and then we can take a break, darling.”

You sprawl against the sheets, exhausted as he lounges bare by the window, a whisp of smoke curling from his cigarette before returning to you once more, spooning you and slipping back inside the sloppy mess of your well-used cunt.

“Good girl.” He tells you again when you moan breathlessly, hand cupping your jaw and turning you to him so he can kiss the gasp from your parted lips. You clench down on him at the words, and he hisses a sound of pleasure against the corner of your mouth. “All mine. My girl.”

“Yours.” You whisper hoarsely, as if there were any other answer.

In the come-down he gathers you to him, kisses the tears of overwhelm from your eyes and holds you as you shiver in the aftermath of your orgasm, feeling worn to the bone in only the best of ways. Cum splatters the inside of your thighs, and Nik idly scoops it onto his fingers and back inside, purring endearments between presses of his lips to your face.

Comforting, gentle when you need it, but demanding, forcing you to surpass beyond what you think yourself capable of if only to see the glimmer of pride in his eyes. When you fail, deliverance is swift as it’s always been, but now it’s different.

“I told you no touching.” He growls, forcing you to look at him as his thumb circles roughly over your clit. He’d caught you masturbating in your room, thinking the house was empty, that he wouldn’t catch you. “You want to touch yourself, you come to me, sweet thing. I’ll take care of you, I always do, don’t I?”

“Yes, yes-” You pant, bucking your hips, desperate, aching without the fullness of him, but Nik pulls away. “Wait. P-please-”

“Need to learn your lesson, little fox.” He soothes, pressing a kiss into your hair even as you whine, trying to buck up and grind against him in a vain search for friction. “Make sure it sticks, Да?”

Yet even as you obey, keep your hands to yourself just as you promised, Nik delights in working you up and pulling away at the last minute. He corners you, slips his hand beneath your waistband and soaks his fingers in your leaking cunt until you moan and mewl for him, then withdraws if only to smirk and suck the taste from them. For days he teases you, edges you until a hiccup threatens in your throat, makes sure you’ve learned your lesson that you are his, and then pulls away to let the reminder sink in. You can’t stand it, go mad with need, find yourself close to humping his knee if only to get some sort of relief.

When he finally does let you come days later, you howl into his flesh, biting down into his skin until he shudders, groans against you and spills inside your clenching cunt.

“My sweet girl.” He murmurs, stroking your face as he cuddles you afterwards. “Я не могу без тебя жить.”

You smile, nuzzle into the warmth of him, knowing he has you, he always will. You can’t forget, not with the things he growls against you as he makes love to you, reminding you that you belong to him. Soft in his room, you lay with him, fold into him as a beacon of safety and trust, know that he will never hurt you, will keep you safe, that this will always be your home.

In front of others you’re his partner, his accomplice, the apprentice he found like a diamond in the rough and had polished into a perfect blade. Deadly, clever, keen-eyed and watchful of all threats. Nik tells Price you don’t play well with others when Price tries to introduce his own protege, and when Gaz offers his hand in greeting you make no motion to return it until Nik grazes a thumb against the side of your throat as if tugging an invisible collar there.

“Careful.” He warns the sergeant. “She bites.”

In private he calls you all his endearments in purring Russian. Ангел, Прелесть, Огонёк. Angel, precious, little fire, the object of his desire. You're his girl, his sweet, fierce little sweetheart, the thing he taught to eat out of the palm of his hand while keeping your wild, dangerous nature.

You're his only family, his beloved little fox he managed to domesticate, the thing that still will bite him given the chance, but likes to curl up in his lap and yawn like a housecat. You're his obsession, his partner, his apprentice. If anything else, you're his weakness.

“Я тебя никому не отдам.” He swears to you, voice a low, deep rumble as he strokes your face, feeling your sleeping breaths fan across his palm.

“I will never give you to someone else.”

You dream of the first day you met him. Feral, scared, hungry and starved and inside- looking so desperately for somewhere safe to call home.

Now, years later, you know. Generous though Nik was, it was this that he had hoped for in the beginning- with you as his partner, his protege, but at the end of the day sleeping in his bed, worn and exhausted from the effects of his desire. Dangerous, feral, useful, but in the end tamed just as he’d envisioned.

And you, younger than him by years and foolish as you were, had gone blindly into the snare.

Nik had never given you any reason to regret it.

Russian Translations (Native Russian speakers feel free to leave a comment of correction)

Дворянство -  Russian nobility

Шучу - I’m joking

Лисёнок. - Little fox

Дорогая - Darling

Твоё тело сводит меня с ума - Your body drives me crazy

Да - Yes

Я не могу без тебя жить - I can’t live without you

#nikolai x reader #cod x reader #cod nikolai x reader #nikolai x you #call of duty modern warfare 3 #my writing #my fic #x reader

[ohworm-writes]

「✰」 ━━ AS GOOD AS I DO

RATING R - Restricted [ Content warnings : 18+ mdni, smut, dom!Nikolai, fem!sub!virgin!reader, alcohol consumption, strong language, thigh riding, heavy make-out session, praise with heavier degradation, oral fixation, fingering, size difference, loss of virginity, corruption kink, p in v sex, mirror sex, hair pulling, spanking ]

SYNOPSIS You didn't know that it was a military bar, so you had no warning about all of the pent up soldiers that have their eyes on you and your friends. As most of them leave to have fun of their own, you don't. Why? Because you're a virgin. To your luck (or loss), a particular Russian pilot has his eyes set on you, and he intends to make the most of your first time that will have you crawling back for more.

WORD COUNT 11.3k (Too fucking much.)

The cold air bites harshly at your exposed skin, sinking its fangs in deep, forcing a shiver up your spine that makes you tense and makes way for goosebumps to break out all across your skin, the hairs on your body standing on edge as you roughly rub at the areas in hopes that the friction will do its job properly in warming you up.

It does, if only momentarily, give you a small sliver of reprieve and the opportunity to bask in the warmth before it’s cruelly yanked away the very second you halt your movements, letting that frigid cold seep right back in and settle deep into your bones, comfortably making a home for itself there.

From the exterior, the bar hardly looks... appealing, should we say? The exterior reeks of piss, stomach acid, and sex—a combination of scents that makes you scrunch up your nose in disgust and discomfort—and the building itself is hardly any better, the paint chipping and cracking all over the place with the brick looking as if it’ll crumble with so much as a gust of wind.

So, with a deep, heavy breath, you push open the old, creaky wooden door and take a step inside, immediately being greeted with a rush of warmth and the smell of fresh food and liquor. Lively, half-drunken chatter fills the air from the bar’s patrons, with some groups seated along the bar and others at tables scattered across the hardwood floor; nearly everyone within the establishment has one or more people to be paired with, leaving nobody alone.

The people, though, aren't exactly who you expected to see. When your group of close friends initially invited you to come out with them for a night of drinking near one of their flats, far off along the outskirts of the bustling city, you really had no reason to refuse the extended offer. After all, you hadn’t seen some of them in months, so this would be the perfect opportunity to catch up, no?

Well, it is. But nobody thought to tell you that you’d be walking right into a military bar.

Apparently, according to one of your friends, there’s a base just a few kilometers down the road, and, given that this is the closet bar in the vicinity of it, it’s where every active-duty soldier and veteran comes. They make up ninety percent of the bar’s patrons, too, so you and your friends are some of the few groups that aren’t associated with the military. Well… yet.

And not that there’s any issue with it being a military bar, of course! It’s just that… you aren’t exactly accustomed to dealing with such… bold personalities. 

While your friend group does, in fact, consist of a few colorful characters and then some, the other patrons at the bar are a little too much for your taste. You’re used to your friends making crude jokes, being loud and rowdy, and playfully flirting with you and everyone else, but when it comes to others? You aren’t exactly prepared.

You and your friends are sat around a large wooden table near the very center of the bar, a number of large splits cracking down the length of it, with one of the legs being propped up by a book due to it not being long enough to reach the floor. At least the chairs are somewhat comfortable, even if they’re nothing more than metal barstools with a bit of cushion on them.

The alcohol is fairly cheap, to everyone’s delight, especially when it’s actually good. You’d think, with the state that the bar’s interior and exterior are in, that the drinks and food would be equally as abhorrent with mold or bugs or something disgusting, but no! The food is cooked through and seasoned well, and the drinks are as they should be. So, none of you can really complain when the main attraction is enjoyable.

You all talk about anything and everything: who is sleeping with whom, what co-worker or boss got exposed for something or other, whatever celebrity drama is happening at the moment, what show or movie someone saw recently that you just have to watch. It’s a mixture of small talk and deep discussion, with the conversation flowing smoothly as everyone enjoys their food, drinks, and the company that surrounds them.

Until the first soldier approaches.

He’s young, no older than twenty-two—even that might be a bit of a stretch—dressed fully in uniform, the green camo pants he wears tucked neatly into a pair of black boots with a fitted shirt clinging tightly to his skin, emphasizing his physique. He isn’t bad-looking per se, but he definitely isn’t your type. 

He walks over by himself with a smug, self-assured grin plastered on his face as he approaches one of your friends who sits directly across from you, giving you a perfect view and earful of the interaction as you take a sip of your liquor, watching as he puts his hand on the back of her chair, speaking in a hushed whisper.

“Hey there, pretty girl. You look bored over ‘ere with all of y’r friends. I could make y’r night more interestin’, y’know. You interested?”

Okay. Wow. Starting off strong.

And before you even know it, she’s giving a sheepish smile to the rest of you, apologizing and excusing herself from the table as she grabs her coat and purse from the back of her chair, waving you and everyone off before turning and hurriedly trailing behind the man like a lost puppy and out towards the car lot outside, no doubt ready and willing to get in some action of her own before the night is through.

And that’s just the beginning. After another half hour, all of your friends have either grabbed their things and said their goodbyes to go home with the soldier of their choice for the night, or they left to the bathroom or back alley, only to come back with a limp to their gait, bruised lips, marks, tousled hair, and fucked-out eyes. And if it’s the latter, it only takes them a few minutes before they leave, just like their formers.

It’s not like you haven’t had your fair share of men and women alike trying to court you, either. In fact, there have been four different people who have come up to you throughout the night and have tried their hand at seducing you, whether it be shitty pick-up lines that they use or bold flirtatious remarks, some even trying to trail an eager hand across your shoulder or back as a means to further entice you.

But you haven’t failed to turn each and every single one of them down, polite as you may try to be. It’s for two separate reasons, you deduce. One is that the people who are coming up to you aren’t exactly your type, be it in terms of the way that they look or their personality, while the other reason is… slightly more straightforward.

You’re a virgin.

So, to you, it’s no surprise that you’re adamant on turning down everyone that comes up to you to try and, for lack of better wording, try to get into your pants. Your other friends who have already been approached and taken up their offers for a good fuck, be it bent over the bathroom sink, pressed up against the brick wall in the alley outside, or going home to enjoy that ecstasy in a bed, intend to spend their nights well.

They’ll be having more of a “good night” than you will, even though they’ve all wished you well with some variation of that phrase.

So, here you sit at an empty table, nursing your drink with a soft sigh, bored out of your mind as you trail your pointer finger around the rim of the glassware in a slow, calculated manner. You can’t help but feel a bit left out. Again, not as if you haven’t already been given a multitude of chances and offers that you could have taken up hours ago, but none of them—to you, at least—seem to be someone worthy of taking something as intimate as your virginity away from you.

To hold it in their palms like a trophy or medal to display with smug, overzealous pride. To flaunt, to brag about, and then to ultimately forget, because to them, your virginity doesn’t matter. It’s something that can boost their ego for a momentary period of time before shrugging off and away because it didn’t matter and wasn’t important.

So, no, you decide. None of the overconfident, liquid courage-fueled bastards are worthy of taking your virginity away from you. Thus, you only have yourself to blame for your “lack of action," so you can’t complain about it any longer when you’ve dug in your heels and chosen to stick firmly by your decision, now can you?

That is, until a particular Russian man donning aviators and a brown leather flight jacket downs his shot in one go and stands, beginning to take slow, confident strides in your direction from his previous seat positioned at a small table in the far back corner of the bar from behind you, with four men urging him on with a few whistles and cheers.

Not that he has any need for encouragement or prayers, of course.

You don’t even notice him as he approaches, because you’d assume with a man of his size and stature that you’d at the very least be able to hear his footsteps, but no. He’s completely silent until he’s right behind you, one hand holding onto the back of your chair in a casual manner while the other splays out right beside your drink as he leans into it, both next to you and behind you all at once.

You can feel his hot, vodka-soaked breath fall heavy against the exposed skin of your spine even when his mouth isn’t anywhere near you yet, still maintaining some level of control over himself and his actions. You’re unable to see the way he catches his bottom lip between his teeth as he grins, thoroughly amused with the way a shiver crawls up your spine, right to where you had felt the ghost of his breath just moments ago.

That, and the flames of desire that flare up and burn behind his eyes.

“I cannot help but notice that your friends left you behind all by yourself. So cruel to do that to someone like yourself.”

You can only assume that sarcasm laces his tone with the way he puts emphasis on certain words or the way he speaks with a specific lilt, but that couldn’t be the furthest thing from the truth. He means every word he says, so, if anything, it’s pure and unbridled amusement and honesty that lace his words and the way that he speaks.

Because he does think that it’s cruel that all of your friends have left you alone with nothing more than a quick, uncaring, departing word or phrase before they rush out to follow behind and fuck some other mindless soldier who, more than likely, has already had their fair share of the bar’s civilian patrons. Your friends don’t mean anything special to those soldiers, as unfortunate as it is, but that fact in and of itself is what separates him from those men.

Even if, yes, he’s in just as much of a desperate need to get off as they are.

You have to fight against the urge to roll your eyes at his words, your pointer finger continuing to drag lazily along the rim of your glass as you work to ignore him, not exactly up for trying to craft another excuse as a means to reject whatever proposal of having sex you assume he’s come up with, content with picking up your drink and finishing it off with a slow, steady breath, letting the liquor burn down your throat with indifference.

But, unfortunately for you, that only furthers his intrigue. So, with a smirk that slowly begins to spread out wider across his lips, even if you still don’t turn to see it, he chooses to take his shot and make a move. Or, rather and more accurately put, he makes an executive decision that he won’t allow you to refuse.

“Let me buy you a drink, да? Keep you company.”

And, just as stated, he doesn’t allow you to refuse him or turn down his offer like you had done with the others, already waving and making a few hand gestures at one of the servers, calling out to them for a refill of whatever you had been drinking and to place whatever your tab had been under his card, pulling out an empty chair, and taking his place in the seat beside you, getting to see that smug smirk for yourself for the first time.

And now your in it.

He’s… surprisingly pleasant to be around, you come to find out as you begrudgingly begin to converse with him. At first, you still try to ignore him, not even touching the new drink as it’s set in front of you just yet, keeping your eyes trained on and tracing the different rings in the wood table, but, in coming to the conclusion that he isn’t going to leave you alone, you start talking.

The conversation is forced when it begins, consisting of quick responses from you that lack any emotion or indication that you want to keep speaking. But he’s patient, and he waits, and he shifts his approach to asking questions that you can’t just give one to two word responses to, forcing the conversation into something of value. And only then does it begin to flow, slowly blending into something smoother—something that you can enjoy.

You learn his name, Nikolai, tasting it on your tongue with a sip of your drink, letting the flavors and tastes seep into your palette and glide down your throat until you feel it pool and fester in the depths of your stomach. The way you say his name makes his own cheshire-esque grin wifey further, his eyes crinkling with a flicker of undeniable mischief. It’s dangerous, but it draws you in just like a siren to a sailor.

He keeps the conversation civil at first, not wanting to scare you off just yet when he’s barely captured your attention, asking a few generic questions and molding them into something of substance, giving a few answers of his own and straying away from keeping them vague, trying to be as specific as he can afford to allow as a means to keep your attention drawn in on him. 

But after you finish your drink and he moves to order you another without question, he gets bolder.

Brushes of his fingers against your bare skin, remarks and words heavy with innuendo, heavy heated breaths that fan across the space between you both, and purrs that make your head spin in the best ways possible. It’s equally overwhelming as it is underwhelming. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s doing it better than you could have ever anticipated, drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

You’re in over your head before you can even comprehend what’s happening.

“Come on, лапушка … let me give you a better night than your friends could ever even dream of having.”

His voice is heavy, as is his accent, his body turned to look at you with his face no more than a few centimeters away from your own, one of his hands busied with trailing his fingertips lazily up and down the exposed skin of your forearm, barely even touching it at all, while the other rests atop your thigh, the warmth from his skin seeping through the fabric of your pants as his thumb brushes back and forth in a methodic motion.

Nikolai’s staring down at you with these half-lidded eyes that you can barely even make out through his dark aviators, his breathing coming out in slow, shallow exhales, weighing heavy in his chest as he drags his tongue across his bottom lip, gently cocking his head to the side with that same smug look that hasn’t left his face or lips since he first started to speak with you, danger dancing behind his eyes.

A warning and a question wrapped into one, questioning if you’re ready for a man like him.

You look up at him, searching for as much as a flicker of that same cocktail of overzealousness and egotism that you so easily caught in every other person’s eyes as they presented you with a similar offer, seeing you as nothing more than a warm body to accompany and please them for the evening. To be able to decline him, turn down his offer, and go home for the night… to be able to forget about him and this before you let it get out of hand.

But you can’t find it. He wants you, yes, that much you can tell, but not in the same way that they did.

“Okay. Yeah… sure. Yes.” You tell him, stumbling over your words messily, but he doesn’t seem to care about it in the slightest. That smile of his edges with danger as he effortlessly moves his hand, grasping onto his aviators, taking them off and hooking them onto his shirt, his other hand leaving your thigh as he moves you in front of him, moving his hand to the small of your back to guide you around the bar towards one of the bathrooms near the back.

He stands tall from behind you, confidence radiating from his very being as he casually walks, uncaring of all the eyes that stare down at the two of you from all across the establishment as the watch, knowing full and well exactly what’s about to transpire, even if you don’t. His friends, the four, sat at the table just a few feet away from the bathroom door, sending him sly smiles and nods of approval. One of them, a bearded man wearing a bucket hat, holds up his wrist and taps at his watch, sending Nikolai a knowing look even as he grins just like the rest. You don’t exactly know what it means, but it doesn’t seem to phase the Russian in the slightest, rolling his eyes as he opens up the bathroom door, the hinges creaking loudly as it arches open, ushering you inside as he follows suit, letting it close with a groan, the lock clicking.

He’s on you in a second.

He turns you around, pressing you back roughly against the door as he crowds you against it, one of his knees wedging itself in between your thighs, shifting them apart, and one of his forearms moving to lie against the door above your head so that he can lean over and look down on you, giving you a crystal clear idea of how much bigger he truly is than you, bucking his knee up against your cunt.

A moan threatens to spill past your lips at the action, eyelids fluttering as the noise bubbles up… but he’s quick to catch it. Before it can boil over, Nikolai presses a bruising kiss to your lips, groaning into it, the sound rumbling like an earthquake from deep within his chest. A long, drawn-out “fuck” passes through his lips as he pulls away momentarily, trying desperately to catch his breath, his actions filled with lust.

His eyebrows knit together, and he bucks up his knee once more as he looks down at you, watching and relishing in the way your lips part and allowing for another sweet moan to drip past your lips, breathing stuttering, catching in your throat as he brings one of his big hands up to hold at your hip, urging you to grind against his knee, a high-pitched keen from you filling the empty space, occupied only by his heavy breaths.

“Look at you." Nikolai mumbles out, almost mockingly, taking in the sight before him of your parted lips, your shoes just barely touching the floor as he supports you on his knee, guiding you to grind along the length of it, the half-liddedness of your eyes. The sight is intoxicating, one that he desperately wants to photograph, frame, and keep to himself for as long as time allows, because, God, you’re a vision.

Nikolai dives back in for another kiss, this one lasting far longer and being much heavier—nothing short of tongue and teeth—as he loses himself in the taste of you. You aren’t much better. If anything, you’re in so much worse of a state than he is right now. You can feel your own composure crumbling apart in his hands, held together only by the taste of his lips. You can’t even fight it—not that you’d even want to in the first place.

You bring your hands up, letting them glide across his shoulders, fingers splayed, taking in the expanse of them before they go up further, tangling into his hair. The sensation forces another groan out of him, the sound trickling down your throat without a single ounce of shame, freely showing to you just how deep his need and desperation are to have you run within his bones.

“Have to… have to have you… You understand, да? You’ll let me?”

Nikolai breathes out between kisses, unable to decide whether he wants to lose himself in the feeling of your lips against his and nothing more, or if he wants to map and memorize every part of the inside of your mouth with his tongue. It’s a tough decision to make, so he opts simply to alternate between the two. It’s the best he can get of both worlds, he decides.

And your mind is finally allowed the space it’s ached for to remind you of exactly what this entire situation will lead to. 

He didn’t intend to bring you to the bathroom just to have a quick, hot and heavy make-out session with you, as nice as that would be. No! That’s not what you signed up for, dummy! The second you agreed to be led back here by him, you were giving him permission and consent to fuck you, and you know it!

“Imavirgin!”

The words come flowing out past your lips like water as you pull away from him, the back of your head falling back against the wooden door as you gasp desperately for air, breathing in quickly and out brokenly before you can even process what you’ve said, trying to regulate your breathing from the way he had taken the oxygen straight out of your lungs. And when it does catch up to what you’ve said, you feel your face burn white hot, completely flushed.

You’re looking at him with wide eyes, something akin to a deer in headlights, while he looks back at you, now in the process of catching his own breath, with nothing more than a slightly confused expression as he works to pick apart your hurried, panicked words. And when it dawns on him as to what you’ve said, his pupils blow wide just a fraction, minutely, and just barely noticeable.

He doesn’t look disgusted or weirded out by your words, to your surprise, having expected that exact response from him and being wildly confused when you can’t find an inkling of that expression on his face. “That wasn’t what I asked, лапушка.”

Nikolai mumbles out to you, pressing his forehead against your own as he allows his breathing to slowly but surely level out, his dazed, lust-filled eyes boring into your own, fingers loosening gently around your hip as he watches you intently.

He doesn’t care that you’re a virgin. It doesn’t bother him in the slightest, and, if anything, it turns him on. But what he's saying now is that he wants you, but he’s asking at the same time if you’ll let him, allowing for that decision to lie completely within your control. He isn’t forcing himself upon you, still giving you the ability to say no and withdraw your consent before he pushes anything further, simply asking if you understand what he means and if you’ll let him.

So, now you’re faced with a decision. 

Do you withdraw your consent and tell him that, no, you won’t let him go any further with this? Because, quite frankly, you aren’t ready. Not ready to have sex for the first time in your life, not ready to lose your virginity, and certainly not ready to give up such an intimate part of yourself to a man you only met less than an hour ago.

Or... do you take a leap of faith without sparing a single glance beforehand and tell him that, yes, you do understand what he means, very clearly comprehending it and recognizing what’s to come with the acceptance of his proposal, and that, yes, you will let him have you and your body? That you’ll let him do whatever he wants to you, to be the one to take your virginity from you… and maybe then some.

It’s an important decision for you to make, one whose answer determines whether or not you lose your last sense of innocence. And, for better or for worse, far beyond your better judgement, you don’t spend too much time weighing the pros and cons before making your decision.

“I… ah… I understand. And… yeah, yes. Please.” Just like before, your answer comes out laced with hesitation and apprehension, both emotions undeniable, especially with the way your voice cracks and strains, leaving you to stumble and stutter over your words as you give him your answer with a shaky voice. Your hands are still tangled into his hair, albeit much looser now, but still present, the tremors that wrack through them gently tousling the dark strands.

And, after a moment, allowing his space to process what you said, Nikolai’s fingers resume their tight grip on your hip, the thick fingers bruising the skin, no doubt, even through the layers of your clothes. Never breaking eye contact with you, he pulls his head back, removing his forehead from its spot pressed against yours, his eyes shamelessly looking you up and down, his tongue gliding over the skin of his teeth.

“Умница.”

Nikolai mumbles out with praise, his voice barely louder than a whisper, though gruff and gravely beyond belief, a testament to his desire, moving his hand down for your hip to cup and grope at your ass through your pants, the other quickly following suit as he hoists you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips so as not to fall. Even if he wouldn’t ever let that happen in the first place, of course.

With your legs wrapped so tightly around his hips, you can very easily feel the hardness of his cock, even through all of the layers of clothing that separate you. You feel your breath hitch and stutter as it comes out shakily, your eyes boring into his own with parted lips and an open mouth, so unaware of what he has in store for you.

Oh, sweetheart, he’s going to fucking ruin you.

Unlike before, his footsteps are heavy as they move against the tiled floor of the bathroom, the thuds filling the space between the two of you, mixed with your own shared heavy breaths as he moves to, rather unceremoniously, drop you onto the long sink that lines one of the walls. Your legs dangle over the edge of it, and your thighs spread apart so far that you can feel your pants straining to accommodate them and the burn of your thighs as he stands between them.

He brings you back in for another kiss, his body towering over your own as he forces you to lean back against the cold mirror behind you, a shiver crawling up the length of your spine as you moan into his mouth, earning a pleased groan from him, just like before. His hands move, hooking into the loops of your pants as he forces them down, not even requesting for you to lift up your ass to make it easier, doing all the work for himself.

Nikolai’s tongue glides along your bottom lip, teasing its way into your mouth. His teeth clink against your own, and the kiss is sloppy and messy in a way that makes you moan out, whining softly. They’re two sounds that he eagerly swallows from your lips and drinks in like wine. He roughly shoves your pants the rest of the way down, moving them around and off of one foot so they dangle off of the other, the leg dragging against the floor.

Pulling back, Nikolai chuckles darkly at the way you try to cling to him, gently and desperately tugging at his hair with a whimper, trying to urge him back down for another kiss. He clicks his tongue, tutting at you with disapproval, shaking his head as he does so, giving you a warning look that quickly makes you remove your hands from their position, letting them come to fist at his shirt, gripping onto it with desperation.

“Нет. None of that. You're so eager for something that you have never even had. You don’t know how to act. We have to fix that, да?” It’s condescending that the way Nikolai speaks, mocking you and making fun of you for how desperate you are when he hasn’t even done anything of real substance yet—nothing more than a bit of making out and thigh grinding—has you acting out of line. Granted, you don’t really know where that line stands, given that you haven’t ever done this before, but he’s here to show you. To teach you and ingrain into you the role that you play beneath him.

Nikolai brings one of his hands up, cupping your chin and holding it tightly and firmly between his thumb and forefinger, the others pressed against the side of your throat, tilting it upwards as you strain your neck to keep up with the action. He inches his thumb up further, looking down at and watching you with narrowed eyes, cold and calculating as he presses them against your lips, feeling the way you exhale shakily out of your nose.

“Open.” It’s not a request, as you can tell, so you don’t waste any time looking at him with confusion, simply parting your lips for him and opening your mouth, just as he’s requested. He doesn’t even give you a moment to fully comprehend what's happening as he pushes his thumb past your lips, presses the rough pad down onto your tongue, and hooks it behind your teeth as he pulls you closer to him.

Drool begins to pool inside your mouth as you look up at him with wide eyes, trying to speak, to whine, and to say something, but he tightens his grip in response, growling lowly. It’s your second warning.

“I thought you were a smart girl? Didn’t I say that? Умница, Да? Act like one.”

His other hand, the one currently positioned near your calf, not having moved since pulling your pants roughly down your legs, inches its way upwards, brushing against the exposed skin and leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Teasing, maybe, but it further ingrains his point into your head that, if you don’t start to behave and let him do the work, you won’t be getting any satisfaction or pleasure out of this.

He doesn’t care if this is your first time or not, and it’s not in a dismissive or cruel way. He’s simply treating you like he would any other person that he was going to have sex with, so it’s a mixture of equal rights and equal opportunity, you suppose. Whether or not that’s a good or a bad thing is… undetermined.

His palm presses against your thigh, fingers splayed as they continue to inch upward, branding your skin with the heat they exude, and, as much as you want to buck your thigh up into his palm and beg for him to rush and hurry up, you don’t. Because, lucky for you, that critical thinking skill is starting to work, the gears in your head are turning and allowing you the space to think. You have to be patient and good if you want what he can give you.

So, rather hesitantly, you wrap your lips around his thumb, gently gliding and swirling your tongue around his thumb, covering it in the slick, sticky saliva that pools in your mouth, looking up at him as you wait, playing that role of the smart girl that he wants you to be. Not rushing, not hurrying, and not begging.

And, oh, are you rewarded for it.

Nikolai lets out another deep and heavy "fuck," but this time it’s shaky and strained, the heat and movement of your tongue against his skin lighting up fireworks in his body that go straight down to his cock. His composure slips, if only momentarily, before he picks it right back up, catching his bottom lip between his teeth and biting down onto it roughly, shakily breathing as he watches you with half-lidded eyes and a twitching grin.

“There you go. Much better.”

Nikolai’s fingers brush against the fabric of your panties, his eyes breaking away from your face as he looks down and leans his body back slightly, watching his own actions as, with one finger, he moves them to the side, exposing your glistening cunt to his wanting eyes, pushing it until it touches your other thigh, using his fingers to spread out your folds, listening to the squelching sounds they make.

He gently presses his thumb to your entrance, not yet pushing inwards, simply moving it around the area with purpose, listening to the sounds that it makes—a perfect symphony, if you were to ask him. He drags the pad of it upwards just as slowly, letting it glide and trail over the length of your pussy until he reaches your clit, his eyes flickering up at you as he presses down against it, making slow, gentle circles around it, watching you.

Even with your mouth wrapped around his thumb, you let out the prettiest moan, muffled into a hum as your hips jerk upwards unintentionally at his actions. Your eyelids flutter, twitching and arching your back in a quick spasmed motion, and he drinks in the sight of it with greed, his breaths so hot and heavy as he watches.

You’re going to put him in an early grave, Nikolai thinks to himself. How is he going to survive when you’re so good and so eager for him? Letting him play with your pretty pussy like this, toying and playing with it as if the action were innocent in nature without arguing, whining, and begging for more?

He’s being so mean to you when it’s your first time. He should be treating you so sweetly and nicely, shouldn't he? He should’ve sunk his cock into you a while ago, broken you in, and given you the soft lovemaking you deserve to have. He should’ve made you cum already; feel you squeeze him and listen to you make more of those pretty sounds that he’s starting to crave like a drug.

But that isn’t the man Nikolai is. But, then again, he can still recognize and appreciate your actions. He can still praise you and give you something of substance before he lets himself take away your innocence and let his most perverse thoughts run wild.

Taking his thumb out of your mouth and watching the drool drip down from it, Nikolai places it into his own mouth, sucking your taste from it until it’s clean. Only then does he bring his middle and ring fingers to your lips. And now, you know exactly what to do without instruction, leaning forward and taking them into your mouth, gagging softly as you take them as far back as you can, your tongue drooling and licking all over them, wetting them thoroughly.

And this time when he removes them, he quickly moves on to shift them to your other set of lips, smearing the saliva all over your cunt, right near your entrance. He teases the tip of one of his fingers around it, pressing in gently and slowly, taking his sweet time. His fingers are so much thicker than your own; one of them is akin to the width of two of your own.

It doesn’t hurt, nor does it strain too much. It’s bearable—something you can handle. That is, until he works to ease the second finger in, letting you get used to the feeling of one of his fingers inside of you for only a few moments before pressing the second one in. And this time, instead of your breath simply catching in your throat, it’s as if the wind has been knocked out of you, leaving you gaping and gasping. "O-oh, fuck, please."

You whisper out softly, your voice breaking into a whimper as your back fully arches against the mirror, your jaw slack as you moan out pathetically, closing it only to swallow the saliva in your mouth down harshly, making an audible gulp, before opening it once more, breathing out heavily with whimpers falling from your lips as he eases it in further. The burn from the stretch has you dizzy in the head—a mixture of pain from the sting of it and the pleasure of being filled so well.

Nikolai smiles slyly, pushing in all the way until his fingertip brushes against your cervix, cooing to you in a degrading manner as you cry out, your thighs instinctively squeezing together, trying to urge him away.

“What? Do you want me to stop?” Nikolai muses with a smug grin spread out across his lips, taunting you with the way he spreads his fingers out into a v-shape. He struggles against the tightness of your cunt, feeling your walls gripping onto him like a vice, but not stopping either way. He’s pushing you to your limits, maybe even far beyond them at this point, but everything he’s doing is sending your mind into a blurry haze of pleasure.

So much as him mentioning stopping makes you want to sob.

“No! No, no no no, please no. Please don’t stop. Please.”

You beg him with your breathing bordering on hyperventilation from how quickly you’re inhaling and exhaling, with a tone raw with emotion and desperation, just as it was before, but the contexts feel so different this time. You spread your legs impossibly wider, that burn from before feeling like nothing in comparison to the way he’s stretching you out right now, his fingers knuckle deep into you.

Nikolai lets out an amused hum in response, slowly closing his fingers, feeling the way you squeeze him and force them back together, before spreading them out wide once more, his thumb creeping its way up towards your clit. You can barely notice it, too busy moaning for him and trying your best to keep your legs spread as much as your body tries to fight it. Unshed tears brim at your eyes, a testament to how good it all feels.

And when his thumb eventually makes its way to your clit, applying pressure as it moves in slow circles, you swear on everything you hold dear that you could cum then and there. Your eyes roll back into your head the second he presses his fingers back together and starts to curl them upwards, hitting that gummy spot that makes your body go rigid with tension.

“Good. I need to get you ready for me, after all. It will not do either of us any good if you cannot take all of me.”

If you had even half of your brain working, you might be able to formulate some kind of response to his words, but, with your mind so overwhelmed with pleasure, all you can do is squeeze his fingers tighter and moan like a whore. He continues his motions of pumping and curling his fingers inside of you, his thumb gradually picking up its pace, swirling tighter, quicker circles around your clit.

You’re mouth is perpetually open, and all the sounds that rise up deep within your throat are bubbling up without a single barrier to block them, your hands gripping tightly onto his shirt with no intention of letting go. Nikolai takes them all in with pride, every sound fueling his ego and his desires, only encouraging him further to quicken his motions. With the way your whines get higher in pitch and the way your body tenses, he can practically taste how close you are.

His free hand moves up your chest, slipping underneath the fabric of your shirt and hooking his thumb beneath your bra, pushing both upwards. He stuffs the fabric of your shirt into your mouth, muffling your moans, and, while it isn’t necessarily his intention to do so, he just has to get a look at your tits.

He can see how hard your nipples are and the way your tits jerk and bounce softly with every catch and stutter of your breath, and the sight drives him just as wild as the picture of his fingers stuffed inside of you with a mixture of your drool and slick smeared messily around your cunt and all over his knuckles.

Nikolai can’t stop himself as he leans forward, ensuring that you meet his eyes with a gentle tap of his fingers against your cheek when he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, his tongue swirling around it and his teeth gently grazing against it with a teasing bite. That sight and those sensations, combined with the way he’s been abusing your poor, puffy clit and pussy with his fingers, are all it takes to push you over the edge.

Your orgasm hits you with the force of a truck, completely knocking the wind out of you. Your breathing catches in your throat before stopping altogether for a moment, all of the blood in your body seemingly rushing to your ears. Your thighs snap shut, squeezing tightly around his wrist, and your eyes roll back into your head as far as they can go as you cum around his fingers, gushing and leaving them covered in your essence.

He lets you ride it out without saying a word, simply watching with a grin as you lose yourself in ecstasy—the pleasure that’s thrumming through your veins like nothing else you’ve ever experienced, and he knows it. The very sight of you like that has him gritting his teeth, growling out a low “yeah, there you go" against your chest as he detaches his mouth from your nipple, watching as you come undone, slowing down the movements of his fingers and thumb to let you ride out the waves of your orgasm undisturbed.

Your breathing stutters, that familiar glossy haze covering your eyes as you come back down to earth, blinking up dumbly at him as you regain your sense of awareness, opening and closing your jaw. All of that tension dissipates from your body with ease, fizzing out, leaving you practically boneless atop the bathroom sink, working on catching your breath as you try to remember how to think.

As you do that, looking down, Nikolai slowly pulls his fingers out of you, his eyes completely blown out as he watches the way your body tremors with aftershocks, shivering once he’s completely pulled out. Just like he knew they would be, his knuckles are covered in a ring on white, and the length of his fingers smeared with your cum and slick, soaked.

He wants to taste it; truly, he does, but that would just ruin what comes next.

Blinking, slowly coming out of the fog that the afterglow of your orgasm covers you in, you watch as Nikolai pulls back, bringing his hand away from your face as he brings it down towards his lower half, mumbling under his breath in Russian as he makes work of his belt singlehandedly, loosening it just enough that he can unbutton and unzip his pants. He doesn’t even shove them down his legs to kick them off fully, simply maneuvering the waistband of his boxers beneath his balls to free his cock.

And the sight of it sobers you up quickly.

How the fuck does he expect you to fit him inside of you?

“You’ll take it.” He tells you without missing a beat, confident, practically reading your mind because he’s become well acquainted with that very look that crossed over your features when you saw it. It makes him chuckle, if anything, using his hand covered in your juices and smearing it all across his length, and you can’t help but watch greedily at the sight, understanding exactly why he’s so obsessed with sound with the way the smearing of your slick and cum fills the air between you.

Nikolai takes a step back, not yet bringing his eyes away from the sight of his cock as he mixes your juices with his own pre-cum, eyebrows knitting as he loses himself in his own thoughts. After a moment, he clicks his tongue. The sound immediately catches your attention, effortlessly making you perk up and shift your eyes from his cock to his face.

“Get down from there and turn around. I want you bent over this sink.”

Oh, fuck. This is really happening.

You nod at him, gulping down harshly as you shuffle your body towards the edge of the sink until your ass is to the very edge of it, pressing the tips of your toes against the floor as you hop off of it. Granted, you nearly collapse, not having anticipated the force of your orgasm to leave you incapable of standing on your own, but, thankfully, your tight grip on the rim keeps you standing.

Nikolai lets out a huff of amusement at the sight, making no move to assist you as you awkwardly turn yourself around while still holding onto the edge, legs wobbling and shaking as you stand in front of the sink. Now, with the change in position, you can truly see just how fucked-out you look in the mirror, just like your friends had been once before on the chance that you saw them before they left tonight.

Your hair’s a mess, strands stringing out in every direction, fuzzy with static, and your lips are completely swollen and bruised from how hard Nikolai kissed you. Drool dribbles past the side of your mouth and down your chin, eyes red from unshed tears, pupils blown out and darker than you ever would have imagined they would be. You look like an entirely different person in some ways, but in others, you look exactly the same.

But Nikolai doesn’t exactly have time for you to admire yourself in the mirror, so, with a grumble, he takes a step forward, moving his hand to your upper back, seemingly sweet and intimate with his actions, before roughly pressing you down against the sink, your nipples coming into contact with the cold surface of it, making you moan out and shiver. With his free hand, he pulls your panties down to your thighs, ensuring they won’t be in the way or an issue, before moving his hand back to hold onto his cock.

“You can admire yourself when you’re wrapped around me, лапушка. I gave you a command, so… I expect you to listen to it. Поняла?”

He kicks your feet further apart with his boots, gliding his hand down the expanse of your back and moving your shirt up the slightest bit so he can admire your ass. He taps his cock against the curve of your ass, obsessed with the wet sound it makes, letting out a deep, gutteral groan as he trails his tip along it lazily, tilting his head to the side. His thumb gently caresses the skin, rubbing up and down in a small area before suddenly removing it, only to bring it down with a harsh smack against it.

The sensation makes you lurch forward, yelping out loudly, completely caught off guard, not having expected it in the slightest. As much as you want to say that you don’t like it… the way that your cunt clenches around nothing in anticipation combined with the breathless moan you let out is undeniable. It’s an easy indication of your desires and how much you truly enjoy the sting it leaves behind on your ass.

“I said поняла?”

Nikolai growls out, breath fanning along your neck as you hear his voice right next to your ear, his hand pressing down into your lower back to support himself as he lines himself up with your entrance, bringing his tip to glide up and down through your folds, the squelching sound it makes causing you both to shutter in anticipation. You let out a pitiful whine at the feeling, one that earns you another harsh smack against your other cheek, forcing tears to your eyes.

“I don’t know Rus-”

He doesn’t even let you finish your words before he’s plunging his cock into you, pressing through your entrance and bottoming out in one swift thrust, enveloping himself in your soaked heat.

“Ебена мать!”

Nikolai curses out, muffling himself as he bites down hard enough on his bottom lip to taste blood. The squeeze of your tight pussy around him is enough to make him feel lightheaded and dizzy, gasping as he takes in a shuttering breath and pressing his forehead between your shoulderblades as he pants.

He fills you up completely with his cock, stretching your already sore cunt far past its limits as his tip presses against your cervix. Your eyes are forced to screw shut tightly as you try to grasp onto anything, but, alas, the countertop that spreads out along the edge of the sink is completely smooth, leaving you helpless.

You dig your fingers into your palms as a solution, your knuckles turning white as you press your forehead against the cool surface, trying desperately to ground yourself as a means to combat the stinging pain that comes with the stretch. The sensation is overwhelming, with all of your nerves feeling as if they’ve been lit ablaze.

It makes you want to writhe—to wriggle yourself out of his hold and scramble away from just how much it aches and burns. But, as you wait, your breath coming out in strained, stuttered breaths, you realize that he isn’t moving whatsoever. He keeps himself buried inside of you, completely still, his chest pressed against your back, as he breathes in with considerable effort and breathes out with just as much strain.

So, as the both of you lay there waiting for the pain to subside, you’re able to focus on and enjoy the feeling and be completely and utterly full. When Nikolai had his fingers inside of you earlier, you thought that that sensation was the most full you were going to feel. But, with the way that his cock leaves no extra space inside of you, filling you to the brim in a way where you can feel him bulging out against your tummy, you realize how enjoyable the sensation is.

It’s intimate and almost comforting, in a way, to have someone fill you up completely.

So, as you lie there, focusing on that sensation, you can feel that initial discomfort and overwhelmingness dissipate, leaving you solely with that fullness. It feels good, you come to find out, much better than anything you’ve ever felt before, and all you can think about is how much better you know that Nikolai can make it. So, you choose to gently press your ass back into him, taking him in impossibly deeper and giving him the subtle indication that you’re ready.

You feel him suck in a sharp breath that fands out against your skin. In a slow, fluid motion, he draws his hips back, pulling his cock out far enough that only the tip of it is left inside of you, before giving a gentle thrust to his hips and plunging himself back into you. The two of you moan out simultaneously, the sound he makes being more of a groan in nature and yours more of a whine, feeling the way he moves his hand to hold at your waist.

“Nik…” You whine out to him, your voice cracking into breathlessness as you feel him thrust slowly in and out of, the desire to beg for more threatening to pass through your lips, but the harsh squeeze he gives to either of your hips shuts you up instantly, listening to the way he strains to breathe and speak, rolling his hips with each thrust, ensuring he can get as deep inside of you as he can, his tip brushing against your cervix each time without fail.

Nikolai lets out a particularly heavy breath, grunting as he snaps his hips with a bit more force into you. Steadily, he begins to pick up speed with each in and out of his cock, much to your delight, losing himself in the wet, squishy noises it makes with the motion.

“I am going to fucking ruin you. Mold you to my cock so that nobody will ever be able to make you feel as good as I do.”

He mumbles it out, primarily to himself, even though you can clearly hear it, standing up and leaning back slightly. He lazily turns his head to the side, eyes focused on the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing with each thrust he makes, trailing up the length of your back and looking into the mirror, getting to witness it from a different perspective. The vision makes his cock twitch inside of you, forcing another groan out of him.

Taking one of his hands away from your hip, Nikolai reaches it upwards, finding the base of your neck, fingers splaying out as they cup the back of your head, before reaching forwards, tangling themselves into the strands of your hair, and pulling. The motion forces your back to arch, your head lifting away from the expanse of the sink, your eyes boring into… your own, the mirror giving you a perfect view of yourself.

Jaw slack, drool dripping past your lips, tongue out, eyes blown wide, hair a mess of strands, tits out, bent over with the prettiest sounds freely falling from your lips as you get fucked from behind in a shitty bar bathroom by a man you’ve barely met an hour ago. Nikolai takes in the same scene, his eyes watching yours as you focus on yourself, grunting out with each thrust, shamelessly making noise to properly translate just how much he’s enjoying this.

“But you would like that, да? To be unable to enjoy anyone else fucking you because I’m the one who took you first.”

Another slap to your ass leaves you reeling, your eyes rolling back into your head as he thrusts himself in deep, snapping his hips with a roughness that forces the air out of your lungs before you can even take in another breath. You feel him readjust his grip on your hair, forcing your back to arch even further as he growls, bouncing you along the length of his cock as he fucks into you with vigor.

The coil that resides in your lower stomach begins to slowly but surely tighten with each thrust, accompanied by your own pathetic moaning, whining, and keening—those beautiful tears falling down the length of your face without anything to hold them back. Your eyes glisten, flickering away from your own expression as you opt to watch his own, seeing the way he bites onto his bottom lip to hold back his moans and whines, even as he fails to do so without any resistance.

“Such a desperate whore for my cock, aren’t you? It is amusing how you’ve never had sex yet act like a slut.” Nikolai coos out cruelly, emphasizing his words with a particular harsh thrust that has you drooling, letting his own hand grip at your waist as he pulls you back into each thrust, ensuring he bottoms out each and every time without fail. The obscene sound of his balls slapping against your soaked, sticky cunt fills the air. You can feel his tip slam against that spongey spot on your inner walls—the one that makes your toes curl and leaves you feeling boneless—and when he hears the sound you make, he’s relentless in focusing all of his attention right there.

God, it makes you see stars. You feel so unbelievably full in a way you’ve never felt before, each thrust of his thick, fat cock ripping the air from your lungs, leaving you sweaty and breathless. It’s overwhelming, yet in a way that makes you never want it to stop. Drool drips onto the counter from your tongue, hanging off in stringy globs, flicking back and forth with each thrust. You can feel yourself getting close, your walls closing in on him with a grip that leaves him groaning and growling, completely pussydrunk off of you as his eyes catch on to all of the different telltale signs he’s coming to learn from you.

The way your eyelids twitch when your eyes roll back, the way your whole body tenses up with anticipation, and the way your noises get so much higher pitched

He’s never letting you go after this, he decides. Nobody is going to get to have you once he’s done with you—once he’s claimed you. He was your first, and he’d be damned if he let anyone other than himself be your second, your third, and so on and so forth.

“Come on, красивая вещь. Cum on my cock. You can do it.”

Nikolai growls out, his fingers bruising against the flesh of your waist as he holds on to tightly, as if you’d slip through his fingers if he were to loosen it, if only by a fraction. And you’ve learned from your lesson before that, being a smart girl and knowing to do what he says when he says it, so your body instinctively reacts to his command. Blinding, white-hot pleasure courses through your veins, ever nerve ending in your body, feeling like it’s on fire when you gush around him. You feel your entire body go rigid with tension,your, heart stopping for a moment, unable to breathe or see from just how hard you cum.

Oh, you feel like jelly. If you thought you were boneless before, the way his grip on your hair is the only thing keeping you up right now really shows you what “bonelessness” feels like. 

Your entire body convulses, spasming and twitching and jerking you as you fight the overstimulation of him still ruthlessly pounding into your pussy, whining and keening as you babble out incoherently at him, everything making you so dizzy with pleasure. Nikolai himself isn’t that much farther behind you, the squeeze of your pussy bringing him teetering over the edge, barely able to pull out in time with a strained grunt of your name as hot, thick cum spurts from his twitching cock.

Ropes of it leak from his cock, painting pretty white lines against your ass as he groans out gutturally, leaning his head back as he basks in his own pleasure. He pants out heavy, each breath strained with effort as he blinks, chest heaving as he struggles to regain control over his own breathing, letting his eyes drop back down to admire the scene before him. There’s this dazed, lopsided smile that’s spread out across your lips, your eyes glazed over with ecstasy, just like before, but the difference in seeing your fucked-out face cockdrunk off of him. Oh, that just makes it all the better.

He blinks a few times, his jaw slack as he swallows down his own saliva and pants, his hand moving to smear his cum messily along your ass, rubbing it into your skin as if it were lotion. He knows it’ll stick to his own clothes if he does, but he can’t help himself nor care as he leans himself against you, bending over you, allowing himself to rest his forehead between your shoulder blades as his body comes down from such an intense high.

Seeing you like this, having you like this… it’s something he doubts he could ever leave.

His breaths come into sync with your own; the steady breathing, lungs filling with air, and breathing out, expelling all of that air, is an action that the both of you focus on as one, uncaring about anything else but this moment. You feel him mumble something against your back, unable to make it out through the haze of your afterglow, unable to hear all the whispers of praise he allocates to you, pressing gentle kisses against your shirt.

The moment is undeniably intimate, something you may not suspect from him, especially given the way that he treated you. But it makes sense, the way he has this imposing and overwhelmingly dominating persona that he leans on, yet can be equally caring and loving when the situation requires it. It’s a delicate balance that he maintains, further proving the extents of his own control, both over his partners and himself, and you can’t help but appreciate and admire it.

But unfortunately, the calm atmosphere that begins to settle between the two of you is so rudely interrupted by the sound of multiple harsh, sharp poundings against the door to the bathroom. Even though the door remains locked, which, thank God, Nikolai had done, the handle still gets jiggled with haste. Muffled, barely audible conversation can be heard happening from beyond the door, but it doesn’t seem like, according to your actions, that each of you cares all that much.

“Nikolai! Hurry up in there. If you don’t come out soon, we’re taking your truck back and leaving you here.”

A gruff, deep Scouse accent barks out, muffled only by the barrier of the wooden bathroom door that continues to shake from the sheer force of the pounding the knocks have been making against it. Nikolai groans out with a mixture of frustration and annoyance against the fabric of your shirt, still working to catch his breath as his pants begin to slow down, the heat of them seeping through the fabric and sticking to your skin.

“Maybe I should let him…” He mumbles out for only you to hear, his palm gently rubbing up and down the curve of your ass, working to soothe that ache that lingers from his harsh, sharp smacks. He presses a gentle kiss between your shoulder blades, trailing his lips upwards as he follows your spine and the curve of your neck, leading him to make his way to press them along the edge of your jawline. The sensation makes you let out a shuttering breath, which is uneven and shaky in nature.

The afterglow of your orgasm still lingers, mixing in with the dull ache left behind by the rough way he treated your cunt, your mind hazy as it swirls with pleasure, focusing on those sensations and nothing else, not even his words. You let out a soft hum in response, still fucked out and dumb without a single thought occupying the space in your head, not even knowing what it is exactly that you’re acknowledging. It makes him chuckle.

“Good first time; I take it, then?” He muses smugly, knowing full well that you won’t be able to give him a proper answer. But, with the look that shines behind your eyes and the state that he’s left you in, he doesn’t even have to ask that question to know the answer to it. 

So, with a heavy and reluctant sigh, pressing one last kiss to your jawline, he pulls himself back. Gently, he moves to rest your head back down against the sink, turning his gaze downward as he tucks his softening cock back into his boxers. He pulls back up his pants, re-buttoning and zipping them, and fastening his belt through the loops. He composes himself after doing so, smoothing down his clothes and checking himself in the mirror. 

Well, as composed as a man who just fucked can, you guess. Then he moves on to you. He presses gently kisses along your exposed skin, helping your boneless form readjust your bra and pull down your shirt, pulling back up your panties and pants, ensuring they’re all situated as he gives you a once-over from behind, pulling you against him as he checks you out in the mirror in front of you. A kiss is pressed to the side of your neck as he looks at you in the mirror, his eyes still half-lidded and a smirk adorning his lips.

“Come on, лапушка. Focus. It will be hard to walk if your legs don’t work, да?”

He teases lightheartedly, helping bring you back to reality as he helps you stand, your knees buckling instantly, but he never lets go of you once, remaining patient as the pins and needles slowly but surely dissipate, and you’re able to stand on your own, finally able to string a sentence together and cultivate coherent thoughts Still leaning into him, even if you don’t need his support anymore, you let out a soft whine laced with disapproval.

He hums, wordlessly acknowledging you.

"I don't want you to go." You complain, drawing out the last syllable as you voice out your thoughts to him, not at all ready to depart and go back by yourself. To, quite possibly and realistically, never see him again once he leaves. You aren’t ready for that, as selfish as it might be to admit. He chuckles at your words, not out of malice but out of loving amusement, gently turning you around so that you’re facing him, tilting your head up with one of his fingers curled under your chin. 

“Well… I suppose my comrades can find their own way home, don’t you think? They’re capable enough. You, however…”

He trails off with a chuckle, wordlessly acknowledging your state with raised eyebrows and a shit-eating grin, to which you can only whine out into the air between you both, clearly not amused as he is by his words. But once you’re actually able to register what he means by that, you look up at him with parted lips, that dumb expression still on your face, but now it’s more endearing than anything.

He leans forward, the scruff of his facial hair scratching gently against your skin as he presses a kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger around the area for a few moments before ultimately pulling back.

“Let me take you home. You might have lost your virginity, but… that was only in one position. I think it’s only fair I help you lose it in all of them, don’t you think?”

It’s cocky and overwhelmingly confident—exactly what made you turn down the others who had tried their luck convincing you to have sex with them earlier in the night—but, coming from Nikolai, it’s a trait of his that has you hooked. Be it good or bad, you can’t find any part of yourself that’s inclined to refuse his open offer. So, with a dopey, lopsided smile that spreads out across your lips, you nod, accepting.

Because he’s right: it’s only fair.

Умница - smart girl

апушка - sweetheart

Нет - no

Да - yes

Поняла - understand

Ебена мать - holy shit

Красивая вещь - beautiful thing

#originally this was just a small idea #i just need him 😔 #so now it's... a lot more #i love him so much #if you couldn't already tell that #(my past written posts all being Nikolai related staring at me like: 🧍‍♂️) #your honor - i'm a whore. I CONFESS IT! #nikolai x reader #nikolai cod x reader #cod nikolai x reader #nikolai #cod nikolai #nikolai cod #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #modern warfare x reader #modern warfare 2 x reader #modern warfare 3 x reader #mw x reader #mw2 x reader #mw3 x reader #i genuinely became enemies with this fic bc i put off all of the things i've needed to do these past few days to finish it #i don't even care if it's good anymore like i'm so tired #ELEVEN FUCKING THOUSAND WORDS #i need to shut the fuck up oh my gods #it's like... i don't even know what i wrote anymore so- enjoy??? #edited for Russian corrections. thank you!

[cerise-on-top]

oh oh oh I’ve seen this going around (didn’t know it was a thing?) but 141 + König and Nikolai when their s/o has a strength kink?

Hey there! To anyone else reading this, only the ask has some NSFW elements to it, the rest of this post is entirely SFW! Again, I don't write NSFW, but I can write something watered down and SFW if that's okay with the person having sent it in, and that's what I did this time! So, this request has instead become something along the lines of the lads with an S/O who simply likes them being muscular!

TF141, Nikolai and König with an S/O who Likes Muscular People

Price: He’s a captain, so naturally he immediately takes notice of how you’re ogling him whenever you think he won’t notice. Though, sometimes you do have the audacity to stare at his chest and, especially, his arms. While he may have a bit of chub around his body as well, he’s by no means insecure. Quite the opposite, he’s well aware that it’s healthier for him to have some body fat. It’s kind of cute to him, in all honesty, and somewhat flattering too. Price knows he’s a strong and capable man, he could easily pick you up or manhandle you however he pleases, but the fact that that sort of gets to you as well, he likes that. You won’t have to outright tell him since he’ll know anyway, but expect to be carried a lot more, to have him be more conscious about what he wears so he can show off his muscles a bit. It won’t really affect too much of his routine, but if you ever want to watch him work out a bit so he can flex his muscles for you, he definitely won’t mind that either. It’s nice to have someone to talk to after all. If you’re ever brave enough to ask him if you could maybe touch his muscles, he’ll chuckle a bit and flex for you as well. He may be closer to 40 than 30, but it’s nice to know that you still think of him as attractive. One of his favorite ways of showing off his strength to you is by giving you a nice and warm hug to make you feel safe and protected.

Gaz: Gaz isn’t as muscular as the other members of the Task Force, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have quite some muscle to him as well. Like Price, he’ll notice when you stare at him a little too much, but unlike Price, chances are he’ll tease you about it. With his shirt lying on the arm of the couch, he’ll sit down next to you on a moderately warm day, claiming that it’s “too hot outside”. This is a blatant lie, he wants to watch you try your darndest to not stare at his abs too much. While it’s not particularly a concern of his that his teammates are more muscular than he is, it does sort of feed his ego to see you be this flustered about it. Is also capable of carrying you around just about anywhere, and don’t you ever dare to claim otherwise. He will do whatever he can to prove you wrong because, as your partner, he is always right about these sorts of things. And if he can’t carry you just yet he’ll call Soap and the two of them will train together. Gaz is still pretty young, so the way he looks to you does still matter to him more than it should, but if you’re a heated mess around him whenever he’s flexing a bit too hard, he knows he did something right after all. Biggest honor to him would be you asking if you could touch his arms. As mentioned before, he’ll pick you up, but will also spin you in circles until you’re dizzy before giving you a kiss.

Ghost: Ghost is tall and built like a brick house, you have an absolute field day with him because of it. Like Price, he has some chub to him. Again, it’s healthier that way, and he also doesn’t want to go to the gym every day, sometimes it’s just nice to sin and sleep in when you can. On a physical level, he’s the strongest out of his teammates, he has an easy time carrying just about anything. Even you weigh about as much as a bunch of grapes to him. While you liking him being muscular doesn’t particularly feed his ego, he’s too mature for that, he doesn’t resent that fact either. He had to become strong at many points in his life, physically and mentally, so he can protect the people he loves and himself. If that’s just something you can love him for, then he won’t say no to that. While he may not flex too much for you, he will occasionally when he remembers how much you love his muscles. Won’t be as cheeky about it as Gaz, but he’ll mention it every once in a while. Besides, if you’re a big fan of muscles and tattoos, then you’ve literally hit the jackpot with him. Tell him that to his face and he might blush a bit and start smiling. Not afraid to pick you up in private or squeeze you just the tiniest bit harder either while hugging you. It’s not very hard to feel small around someone like him, regardless of whether you’re 1,50m or 2m, he’s just a very big guy and has the dignity of one as well. If you’ve been together for long enough, he might show off a bit, but not too often.

Soap: Another guy who will actively seek you out just to show you how strong he is. He thrives on that sort of validation, especially from you, so please do stare at him just a bit longer whenever you want to. Not afraid of giving you a small show either where he simply picks up the heaviest things in the room just to show you how capable he is and how great of a partner he is as well. He tries to not have too much body fat and does his best to stay fit. No, he’s not really overdoing it either, he just has some good genes that allow him to eat literal trash and not put on too much weight. The more he can get you to stare and touch him, the better. Give him the positive attention, he’ll return it to you eventually as well. Will prompt you to touch his biceps just so you have your hands on him. He loves having you around while he works out because not only do you get to have a good show and see just how hot he is, he gets to just have you around. If you let him, he’ll do push-ups while you’re lying on his back. He knows he’s hot shit, having you reassure him is just another reason for him to keep going. Like Gaz, he’ll also be more prone to run around shirtless as soon as he figures it out, but he’ll also do so in the middle of winter. You dote on him, so even you telling him to put on a sweater is good attention to him.

Nikolai: Nikolai isn’t the youngest anymore either, but that doesn’t mean his body is deteriorating. Also has a bit of chub, but he thinks it looks better on him than having no body fat whatsoever. When it comes to strength, he’s a bit stronger than Price still, meaning he has few more muscles than he does as well, so it’s not like he’s weak either. If you come up to him and ask him to flex for you, he will like it’s nothing. He has had people fawning over him when he was younger, so you’re likely not the first. If you’re just sitting next to him, all flustered, then he’ll teasingly ask you if you want to touch them. Afterwards he goes back to whatever it was he was doing. He’s well aware you have a thing for muscular people, but won’t make a big deal out of it. He will wear shorter shirts if you explicitly ask him to, but whenever he can, he will wear one of his bomber jackets. You get a better view of him when he’s somewhere hot, with him slicking back his hair and you giving him all sorts of stares. Something along the lines of that will be the start of him starting to tease you more often. Need a hand opening the pickle jar? Need a strong guy to lift something? Want someone to carry you to bed? Look no further than him. As soon as he sees the chance to make you go quiet, he’ll take it. He might actually just pick you up when you aren’t expecting it either, just to show off in that way, and hold you up in the air. And if you’re taller than him, he’ll still pick you up, this is about his pride, after all.

König: He wasn’t always as muscular as he is right now, he used to be quite a bit softer when he was younger. While he, also has a layer of fat, he has plenty of muscles to spare as well. It’s sort of unlikely you’re taller than him, but on the off chance you do see eye to eye with him, he’ll still pick you up. This is about being the dominant person in the relationship, he needs to be the bigger person or else he won’t know what to do. It’s flattering to him, to know that you like him not only for his personality, but also his body, not everyone always has. He won’t particularly comply with you in public when you ask him to show off, he draws enough attention to himself as it is, but in private he’ll do just about anything you ask of him. He’ll flex for you, he’ll perform several exercises for you, just name it and he’ll do it. While he may not be an overly physically affectionate person, you can ask him to make you feel safer by having him wrap his arms around you. That’s another reason why he likes you: You’re independent enough, but you still allow yourself to be vulnerable around someone like him. Laughs a bit when you tell him you just wanted to feel his strong arms around you. However, in order for him to be able to be such eye candy and protect you, he’ll need lots of good meals too. Your agreement is thus that he’ll do just about anything you ask of him, even something stupid such as flexing for you, and in return you’ll make him a nice meal every once in a while, even if you just order takeout. Love goes through the stomach.

#cod #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #cod nikolai #cod nikolai x reader #könig #konig #könig x reader #konig x reader #thank you for the rquest!

[roosterr]

i'm in denial about the new CoD campaign... but... but... i wanted to ask if you could possibly do anything - headcanon, drabble, anything you want - about Nik? Pretty please *puppy dog eyes* i need some sweetness!! he's sooo <3 ah...

me too anon :,) but i'm always happy to write for my beautiful wife nikolai

nikolai x gn!reader

wc: 550

ao3

nik doesn't get jealous if someone hits on you. he's your husband; everybody else can look, but he's the only one who can touch.

staying at a base with other units – even temporarily – somehow always proved to be a monumental headache for you. whether it was queuing for the cafeteria and the showers, or just having to deal with the other soldiers, you count the days until you'll be home again.

you drift back down from your thoughts to the sight of a sergeant whose name you don't remember approaching you from the training field. they were done for the day, you supposed, seeing as they were all heading inside by now.

you stay put as he marches closer, where you lean against the wall and watch him with a glint of amusement in your gaze.

he comes to stand next to you, not-so-subtly puffing his chest out as he speaks. "any plans for tonight, lt.?"

"hm?" you hum and raise a brow at him, fighting to keep down the laugh that bubbles up in your chest. you can see where this is going. "nothing special. just spending the night at home."

a grin lights up his face. "how about we go for drinks, then? just you and me, i'll treat you." 

"i'm married, sergeant."

"c'mon, he doesn't have to know," his grin turns into more of a smirk, "i can treat you better than him, just let me show you."

"is that so?" you scoff to hide the laugh that almost escapes, "i don't think my husband would agree."

"he's probably a loser anyway, if you were mine i'd show you off any chance i got." the sergeant comes to stand in front of you, and it takes a great deal of restraint to keep your eyes on him and not the large figure approaching over his shoulder. "i bet he doesn't even know how to please you, does he?"

"wow." you mutter, finally letting the smile pull at your lips as a shadow falls over both of you. "you gonna let him talk about you like that?" 

the sergeant frowns in confusion, "wh–"

"let the boy have dreams, милая." nikolai interrupts, a wide grin on his face as he takes his place at your side. he doesn't spare the sergeant so much as a glance, his deep gaze locked onto yours as he slips an arm around your waist. "he will never have the real thing."

as if the world around you has disappeared, and there is nothing but the two of you, nik cups the back of your head and brings you into an adoring kiss. your fingers find the chain that hangs from his neck, curling around it and tugging him ever closer while the other rests against the planes of his abdomen.

you almost forget that you're not alone, lost in the strong hold of your husband, until the third party pipes up again and breaks the spell.

"c–commander," the sergeant sputters, standing rigid as his wide eyes drop to his boots, "i– uh, i apologise, i didn't–"

you go to pull away, but nikolai keeps you close to him with the hand on your head, smiling mischievously into your lips. he moves back slightly, just enough to speak, his lips still brushing yours as he addresses the sergeant.

"leave us, boy," he rumbles, his gaze never leaving yours even as he waves the sergeant away, "the lieutenant is busy."

#nikolai cod x reader #cod nikolai #nikolai mw2019 #cod nikolai x reader #nikolai x reader #cod x reader #mw3 x reader #141 x reader #nikolai my beloved #roosterr writes

[sirenmoth]

Bookworm

Based of this post i made. GN Reader

AO3

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 Belinski, (you can really apply this to any F/O)

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost cod x reader #john price x reader #john price x you #captian john price x you #captian john price x reader #simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley fluff #john price fluff #captian john price fluff #nikolai belinski x reader #nikolai x reader #cod nikolai x reader #nikolai cod x reader #cod x reader #cod men x reader #f/o community #romantic f/o #f/o x you #f/o x reader #f/o imagines #imagine your f/o

[youronlydarlin]

Did "bit late" is with us in room? Because it was the fastest answer i got in my whole 10 years in fandoms!

And yeah if you can try to write Nikolai then i would be thankful! It could be anything just don't force yourself and if you can't just say or not :3 ( and I started thinking that I am "bit late" looking at how long it took me to write this 😭 )

Ohhh, one thing about the big, big Russian man is that it's dangerous to trust him. As he is an equally dangerous man. You shouldn't always agree to what he says, most often than not they'll have a hidden meaning to them. But you're so sweet :( unlike the others who walk on eggshells around him. Openly willing to converse with the scary man dawning a leather jacket, and aviators. And that's exactly what he loves about you. So soft n' pretty. He hasn't had anything supple to sink his teeth onto in a while. And the exposed skin of your legs from the shorts you're wearing are really doing him in.

So with a toothy grin, and lidded eyes he's cranking up his charm to a thousand. Convincing you to be his little helper around the workshop. You're so ecstatic, its positively adorable. The first few days were experimental to be sure. You had proper knowledge of tools, and how they work which made everything a whole lot easier. Though, Nikolai isn't surprised to know that you possess both brains, and beauty, only pleased.

He's really thought he was being slick though. Having pretty you traipsing around in one if his shirts after he "accidentally" spilled some oil onto your sweater. That plan soon backfiring as he wasn't fully prepared for the sight of you in the fabric.

By god's, you're breathtaking

Wether the fabric is too tight or too loose on your body he deems it as a perfect fit. The overall material of it is is dark, almost see through. Like satin on your skin, you could stretch at the sleeves without it tearing. Nik is too busy ogling your chest to make out your little 'thank you's' for the shirt.

It hasn't been the same from then on, you'd never know how he beats his cock to the scent you left behind on the piece of fabric, holding it up to his nose and roughly palming at his cock. Trying to mimic how tightly you would squeeze him, and he's all too suddenly closing his eyes. Jaw clenching as he sprays his cum all over the bathroom sink. Getting some of it on the mirror. He hopes he wasn't loud enough to have alerted you from behind the bathroom door. But the mere sight of you has him chubbing up in his pants. So he isn't to blame for the frequenting bathroom brakes, is he now, solnyshko?

a/n: AHHH m' sorry for making you wait, dear!! I had things that needed tending to. I hope this was to your liking!! S' my first time writing for Nikolai, I hope I did his character justice, and this was so much fun to do! He's just so 😳 N e way, I hope you enjoy this, lovely!!

Yours, truly,

–Dolly

#cod x reader #cod imagine #call of duty x reader #cod x reader smut #cod nikolai #nikolai x reader #x gn reader #x female reader #x male reader #cod nikolai x reader

[cooliofango]

Sugar

Pairing: Nikolai x F!Reader

Word Count: 746

Synopsis: Lingering gazes and teasing kisses lead to a very happy Nik 🫶

A/N: Was nervous writing this cause I wanted it to be well written as my first contribution to the COD writing community— but I hope you like it!! It’s based off of THIS TIKTOK!! Credit goes to them for inspiration! Ignore my clunky layout..

Tw: None! It’s all fluffy content 🫶

Fingers silently tapped along the side of the can of Red Bull in her hand, eyes fixated on the Russian who spoke on and on about… what was it again?

It started as his recent upgrades to his helicopter that he cared for like it was his masterpiece. Then again, it has helped the team out of so many bad situations on countless occasions, as well as made travel a lot easier. The copter even brought some amusing memories— one incident in particular being one that won’t be let go for a while. It made her smile a little to herself even to this day. She supposed that he had every right to go on and on about such a useful vehicle.

The conversation seemed to drift into more of his travels while flying it than the vehicle itself. That seemed to be the case, anyways, with how he spoke of the common cuisine throughout the countries he’s flown through that he wanted to try.

In all honesty, she hadn’t been listening for the majority of the time he spoke, only catching utterances of how he fitted the copter with new blades to make the flight smoother and how he’s never tried a churro before. Her gaze had been glued to him the entire time, mind stuck on admiring the man before her as they enjoyed their lunch break together. It was hard not to. Seeing him so relaxed in her presence eased her heart and the sound of his voice, thick with his Russian accent, was like music to her ears. The Lieutenant could listen to him talk all day if she could. To add that he was quite handsome, too, only made her infatuation stronger.

“Do you know what I’ve always wanted to try?” The sudden question pulled the woman from her thoughts. Her lashes fluttered as she sat up in place, just noticing his expectant gaze lingering on her face. For a moment, a wave of embarrassment washed over her, not knowing whether or not he had noticed her almost lovesick gaze just mere moments ago. If he did, he made no comment or any physical gesture showing that he did. He only kept his intense gaze on her, shifting slightly in place as if anxious to continue his rambling.

“Kissing me.”

“No, fish and chips. Is it really as good as they--...kissing you?”

“What..? Kissing me?” It took everything in her to not laugh at his bewildered look that melted into one of pure confusion. Instead, a look of slight surprise was present on her face, a brow raised in question. Teeth bit at the inside of her lip, watching the gears in his mind turn oh so slowly to try and process the whether or not she actually said that.

He turned his head to face the wall in front of him and across the room. Not understanding his muttered Russian speech, she smiled to herself before downing the rest of the Red Bull in her hand and began to stand. The crinkle of the aluminum in her hand did nothing to catch his attention, nor did her presence standing over his shoulder.

A smirk tugged to her lips, leaning over his shoulder to level her head with the side of his. A free hand rested on his shoulder for balance and her lips pressed firmly against his cheek. The feeling of his facial hair itched lightly against the softness of her lips and for the short moment they remained against his skin, she could swear she felt the surface of his cheek warm against them. The Lieutenant smiled softly at him, stopping by his ear before pulling away completely. “See you later, Sugar.”

The sound of his breath getting caught in his throat pulled a chuckle from her, removing her hand from his shoulder and making her way to the exit. She dropped the empty and crushed can away, the aluminum can clattering against the sides of the trashcan until it reached the bottom.

A silence lingered in the hallway as she began to retreat to the training grounds where she would be supervising drills for a bunch of recruits, but only for a moment as the sound of heavy, rushing footsteps quickly closing the gap between her and the source filled her senses. A smile tugged to her lips, turning around in time to see the pilot red faced but with the dopiest grin pulled onto his face.

Tags 🏷️

@ohworm-writes @ghostlywhiskey @bookobsessedram

#requests open #reader insert #oneshots #requests #one shots #cod #cod x reader #cod mw3 #mw2 x reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw x reader #cod nikolai x reader #nikolai x reader #cod nikolai #cooliofango writes

[soapybutt17]

From Russia With Love Masterlist

Won't Go Home Without You [Vladimir Makarov x Price!Female Reader]

Summary: It was all supposed to be a mission. Blend in with his people in the underworld and get the much needed information that could potentially save lives in the process. Yet, here you were, finding yourself falling and bounding yourself to an enemy that was dangerous beyond belief. There was nothing good about getting involved with one Vladimir Makarov, but you were entangled in his web of lies and lust and you did not want to escape him whatever the consequence. Characters: Vladimir Makarov x Price!Female Reader. John Price. Simon "Ghost" Riley. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. John "Soap" MacTavish. Kate Laswell. General Shepard. Nikolai. Warnings: Dubious Consent. Dark Elements. Dead Dove Do Not Eat.. Blood and Gore. Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence. Canon Typical Violence. Smut. Mention of Murder and Manslaughter. Mention of Alcohol and Drug Consumption. Inaccurate military slangs and details. Mention of Human Trafficking. Mention of Physical, Mental and Sexual Abuse. Major Character Death. Heavy Angst.

Part 0: Prologue

Part 1: Eye Spy

Part 2: Lingering Eyes

Part 3: Eye for An Eye

She Will Be Loved [Nikolai x Price!Female Reader]

Summary: Vladimir Makarov was dead. Thanks to you, thanks to your brother and thanks to the rest of the team that was dead set on making sure he was stopped whatever it takes. As the dust has come to settle it left you to linger in the aftermath of your betrayal in the form of your daughter that was a spitting image of the man you've once loved and the man you've helped stopped. Who would have ever thought that another handsome Russian would help you mend the pieces of your heart and your life back together. Characters: Nikolai x Price!Female Reader. John Price. Simon "Ghost" Riley. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. John "Soap" MacTavish. Kate Laswell. General Shepard. Original Female Character (Anastasia "Anya" Price / Anastasia Makarova) Warnings: Blood and Gore. Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence. Canon Typical Violence. Smut. Mention of Murder and Manslaughter. Mention of Alcohol and Drug Consumption. Inaccurate military slangs and details. Mention of Human Trafficking. Mention of Physical, Mental and Sexual Abuse. Mention of Trauma and PTSD. Mention of Mental Issues (especially PPD & Depression).

Part 0: Prologue

Part 1: Dust on the Ground

Part 2: Papa

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #mw2 #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #mw2 x reader #makarov x reader #vladimir makarov x reader #cod makarov #vladimir makarov #vladimir makarov masterlist #vladimir makarov angst #vladimir makarov smut #makarov smut #makarov angst #dubcon #dead dove do not eat #cod nikolai x reader #nikolai x reader #cod nikolai #nikolai smut #nikolai angst #nikolai fluff

[saturncodedstarlette]

Nik : Why do you keep coming to me for help? You know I’m not a professional.

Y/N, smiles cheekily : Oh I know. If you were a professional, you’d cost twice as much and be half a effective.

Nik, smiles back at them : I’d also be legal.

Captain Price, butts in : Where’s the fun in that?

#Cod #Call of duty #Call of duty incorrect quotes #Call of duty x reader #Cod Nik #cod nikolai #Cod Nik x male reader #Cod Nik x fem reader #Cod Nik x gn reader #Cod Nikolai x you #Cod Nikolai x reader #Cod Nikolai x oc #Original : write-it-motherfuckers #original : tumblr #This can be seen as platonically or romantically #There’s not a lot with Nik so I feel injustice for that #This sets before Laswell recruits Nik as a informant #Cod Captain Price #Captain Price #John Price #Captain John Price

[mi-i-zori]

Mii’s Thoughts N°2

CoD - Nikolai x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS : A thought about Nikolai and his darling meeting thanks to their shared love for heavy metal.

WARNINGS : None.

I do not give permission to re-publish, re-use and/or translate my work, be it here or on any other platform.

I absolutely loved this cutscene with Laswell finding Nikolai tinkering around his helicopter, with heavy metal blasting from his computer. Couldn’t help but laugh at the way she had to actually turn the music off in order to get his attention.

A while ago, I thought about how funny it would be if he met his darling in a similar situation.

What if they had to deliver a message to him, but didn’t dare turn the music down or off ? They try to get his attention without invading his space, but the guy is so focused on what he is doing that all their efforts end up being useless. They really like the music though, so when they get tired of straining their voice and notice they have unintentionally been swaying along its rhythm, they decide to keep going for a few seconds.

Only for Nikolai to finally step out of the helicopter.

As soon as he spots them, he stops dead in his tracks, instincts on high alert. But he quickly realises they’re just vibing, bobbing up and down with a smile on their face. He ends up being the one going unnoticed as they get lost in their own world, leaning against a nearby crate to watch them. Their little shenanigans are terribly endearing, he thinks as they start mouthing the lyrics. It’s been a while since he’s come across such a pretty thing, and one who openly enjoys his playlist, at that.

The whole situation goes on for a minute or two longer before the Darling finally opens their eyes. Their body goes rigid as they turn around, suddenly facing the guy they were supposed to deliver an important message to, and finding him watching them with a teasing smile on his face. Their cheeks are immediately covered in a bright red hue as they straighten up, a wobbly greeting getting lost in the music. Nikolai finally turns his music down with a laugh.

« You seemed to be enjoying yourself here, » he says, enjoying the way they visibly force themselves not to explode in front of him.

This may or may not be the moment the pilot developed a crush on the very embarrassed soldier standing before him.

A story he never gets tired of recalling.

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #x reader #nikolai x reader #cod nikolai x reader #gn reader #gn!reader #cod nikolai #cod mwii #cod mw3 #cod mwiii

[sprout-fics]

When Nik first finds you, it’s when you tried to rob him.

You’d been younger then. Wilder, scared of a world you struggled to survive in. With hardly a roof over your head, always an empty belly, chased by ghosts of a past you struggled to leave behind. You were desperate, constantly looking for a way out, clawing and scrambling at the stone alleyways in hopes you could one day see the sky.

He’d found you like that, as a dirty, fierce little stray. In a grimy jacket, eyes wild, dirt smeared across your face, you’d held up a knife to him and demanded his wallet. Stupid, you know, but shivering, scared of the world that was destined to eat you alive, choosing a target far bigger than yourself.

Cute, he’d admitted later.

It had taken little effort from him to twist the knife from your hand, examining it as you’d frozen in shock that only seemed to multiply when he asked you if you wanted a warm meal. The offer had been too tempting to ignore, but in reality it was the barest hint of softness behind his eyes that had you follow him like a kicked stray out of the cold.

He’d taken you to a quiet little eatery, out of the way, only three tables. The cook had given you both a look, suspicious of the man who had escorted in a woman much younger than him, dirty and nervous as you were. Nik had let you order, smirking as you nervously picked something small, cheap, and instead ordered something large and warm for you. He’d watched you scarf down the entirety of your meal, gazing at him suspiciously all the while. He’d been quiet, appraising you later realized.

You knew of men like him. Gangsters, thugs, men who worked alongside the mafia or even worse. Men from the underbelly of Russian society who walked in plainclothes and held dark secrets. You knew the danger of accepting favors from men like him. Be it your body, your servitude, or a debt paid in blood, men like those you feared would come to collect in due course, would bleed you dry and leave you ruined given the chance. The only charity they offered served their own interests, the cause they flew their flag for.

It became clear as time grew that Nikolai was not much different, that he had taken one look at you and had seen the thing you never saw in yourself:

Potential.

#Nikolai x reader #cod nikolai x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod nikolai #wips

[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.

#call of duty x reader #cod x reader #Nikolai #Nikolai COD #Nikolai x reader #Nikolai cod x reader #cod nikolai #cod nikolai x reader #modern warfare x reader #mw x reader #mw2x reader #mw3 x reader #modern warfare 2 x reader #modern warfare 3 x reader

[cerise-on-top]

Hugging HCs

TF141, los Vaqueros, Valeria, Graves, Alex, Farah, Laswell and Nikolai and what I imagine they hug like. It's just pure fluff, I'm not sure it needs and TWs. If it does, please just tell me, though, I'm more than happy to add them.

Price: People have said it before, but he gives dad hugs. They’re not overly long usually, unless you’re feeling down. Has a habit of rubbing and/or patting your back. While they may be somewhat tight, he does loosen up a bit when he hears the air leaving your lungs. If you’re particularly close, like his significant other, he might sway a bit. He’s fairly warm too. Not straight up a human furnace, but definitely warm enough to warm you up a bit. When he lets go, he usually holds you by your shoulders or arms for another second or two, giving you a smile, before ultimately letting you go.

Gaz: When it comes to hugs he’s a bit more on the gentle side. He could knock the air out of your lungs too, if he wanted to, but he usually doesn’t. It’s not too uncommon to receive one from him, especially if you’re good friends, there’s no shame in it to him, sometimes all you need is some comfort. If it’s a hug just so, there’s a chance he’s gonna talk a bit, asking you if you’re alright at first before joking around a bit. He’ll try to bury his face in your shoulder, even if he has to lean down a bit for it. Gaz might not be the warmest person to hug but he’ll give you one whenever you ask. Sometimes you don’t even need to ask for it, his intuition is pretty good, so he can usually tell when you need one.

Ghost: His hugs are special in that they are very rare. If you really want one from him you’ll have to be very close. However, due to his stature, it’s likely that he is taller than you are. Either way, he won’t really lean down, but he will put a hand on the back of your head. Duration wise, they’re usually a bit on the longer side, if he gives them out on his own. Ghost will only really do so once you’re down in the dumps and he knows physical affection helps with comforting you. Doesn’t really talk, he hopes that he can, if nothing else, make you feel safe and calm you down. He is warm, almost like a furnace.

Soap: If you’re hugging for celebratory reasons or as a greeting, he will try to squeeze you as much as he can. It is on purpose, he wants to show you how strong he is. However, Soap will be more gentle if you ask him to, he doesn’t want to break your ribs. If you’re in need of a comforting hug, he will tone it down greatly. He is more inclined towards side hugs, but won’t shy away from a proper one either. Like Gaz’, his intuition is pretty good, so you usually won’t need to ask for a hug, he’ll just give it to you. Also a talker, unless he’s tired, in which case he’ll talk fairly little. Runs the hottest out of the TF141, making him a wonderful substitute for a heater during winter.

Alejandro: Open to hugs, but maybe more so in private than in public, unless tragedy has struck and he’s just glad you’re alive. If you’re shorter than him he will put a hand to the back of your head and pull you towards his shoulder, if you’re taller than him he will rest his head against yours, maybe burying his face in the crook of your neck. He usually goes quiet when hugging you, simply wanting to feel your warmth. He hugs a bit longer than usual, he does enjoy the physical closeness with his loved ones. Somewhat warm, somewhat tight hugs, latter does sort of depend on how tired he is. When more tired, his hugs will be a bit more loose.

Rodolfo: Loves hugs, is afraid to ask for them, however. Him and Alejandro do hug occasionally, but it isn’t always enough to satisfy his need for them. He’s usually rather gentle when it comes to hugs, regardless of whether or not you’re taller and stronger than him. He doesn’t need to prove anything, he just wants to make you feel better. Does talk, but just a bit. Whenever you hug him he’ll be concerned as hugs, to him, are usually something you ask for when you need comfort, and ask you if you’re alright and what he can do for you. He rarely initiates hugs, regardless of how much he needs one. Warmer than Alejandro, but his hugs aren’t as long.

Valeria: Good luck receiving one. Rarely gives them out, doesn’t feel too much sentiment for them either. Absolutely none in public, it’s a maybe in private. If she’s a bit tired she’s more inclined to say yes, but if she’s too tired she might be a bit hypervigilant. It takes her a great amount of trust to let anyone closer to her than she needs to. If you ask for one and you’re very close, she will mock you a bit, but will wrap her arms around you regardless of how you reply, whether you quip back or look like a kicked puppy. Running a cartel is rather tiring, so she might close her eyes for a bit, making the hug last just a bit longer. She needs some rest, but she doesn’t want to admit it. Her hugs are not very tight because she usually hugs you when tired, but don’t be fooled, she could absolutely crush you. About average warmth.

Graves: Very physically affectionate, actually. When you’re close enough he has no qualms whatsoever about pulling you into a hug. Greeting, celebratory, comfort, anything goes. If you’re not sad he’ll give you a smug grin. Some hugs will be tighter than others, he needs to show you just how strong he is, how well he could protect you if it came down to it. He’s a commander, so naturally he does so. Gives you lots and lots of praise when he does hold you. Whenever he needs a hug he’ll play it off as you seeming like you needed one, won’t even admit to himself that sometimes it’s just nice to be held. Even if you are taller than him, he will always try to be the bigger person and make you a bit smaller. He’s just prideful like that. A little bit colder than average, but not by much.

Alex: If he really likes you then he’s more than happy to give you a hug, but he also really like receiving them. Will lean down to bury his face in the crook of your neck, even if you’re quite a bit shorter than him. Not above outright asking you for one either. If he knows he has no danger to fear he will close his eyes every single time. While hugs do make him the slightest bit giddy, he tries to hide it. If he actually tried just the tiniest bit harder he could succeed, but he doesn’t really want to either. It’s sort of cute how happy they make him. If you’re on the shorter side he will be more gentle than if you were taller, but it’s all subconscious. Either way he’s far from crushing you. Hugs often and for as long as he can. Only a bit warmer than average, but his gentle enthusiasm makes up for it.

Farah: Does want hugs from time to time, but pushes that wish down. She’s a commander, she doesn’t have time for that. Is willing to give hugs to the people closest to her, though. Not very often, but she’ll do it. Comforting you that way makes her feel strong, especially when she can tuck your head under her chin. If you’re scared, she’ll hum a small melody to you, even if she doesn’t remember where she knows it from. The duration is entirely dependent on how much time she has, whether or not you’re interrupted, but she, without fail, will give you comforting words. Will cradle your face in her hands afterwards if she can. While there’s a chance she might obstruct your attempts at giving her a hug, she might accept if she’s feeling especially down. Yes, she’s used to working under extreme pressure, but she needs it too. Please reassure her that she, too, deserves a hug, it means a lot to her. Her hugs are fairly tight, she is afraid of losing you. Pretty warm, too.

Laswell: Doesn’t give them out very often, but she doesn’t mind either. Again, you need to be close to her. Anyone is an open book to her, she can read people just that well because of her occupation. If you need a hug, she’ll know immediately. She doesn’t hug for too long, but she makes sure you’re feeling better by the end of it. Solution oriented, she’ll ask you what’s wrong and already try to come up with everything she can do to help. If it’s just consolation you need, I can assure you that she’s one of the best people you can go to, she’s very good with words. Stern, yes, but she means well. She may be neutral to hugs, but she will respect if you do like them and give you some from time to time. Does love the feeling of you relaxing against her. Her hugs aren’t too tight, and she isn’t too warm, about average, but the timing is impeccable.

Nikolai: Down for any kind of hug, in all honesty. Ask and ye shall receive. Is very open to them, kind of likes them as well. It’s a nice change of pace for once, something gentle and warm, it’s different from what you can usually expect in Russia. The duration is variable, it’s really up to you. Hell, if there’s nowhere he needs to be you can hug it out for hours as well. Long hugs like that are reserved for private only, but shorter ones are a-okay for public. He’s confident enough that he can protect you. Besides, who would take it up with the leader of Chimera anyway? Like Price, he’ll rub your back, holding you fairly tight. Nikolai is also rather warm, not on the same level as Soap, but it gets fairly close. Fairly talkative, he’s willing to have a full conversation while you’re in each other’s arms

#cod #cod x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #valeria garza x reader #phillip graves x reader #alex keller x reader #farah karim x reader #kate laswell x reader #nikolai x reader #cod nikolai x reader

[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."

#nikolai cod x reader #cod nikolai #nikolai mw2019 #cod nikolai x reader #nikolai x reader #cod x reader #mw3 x reader #141 x reader #nikolai mwiii #nikolai mw3 #nikolai my beloved #roosterr writes

[sirenmoth]

as someone who owns a lot of books, i firmly believe Simon “Ghost” Riley, Captain John Price and Nikolai would build you your own little library complete with a loveseat sofa so you can cuddle with you while you read (and definitely not read the book over your shoulder)

Update: Bookworm

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #captian john price x you #captian john price x reader #john price x reader #john price x you #nikolai cod #nikolai cod x reader #cod nikolai x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai belinski #nikolai belinski x reader #cod x reader #cod men x reader #cod fanfic

[1-ker0sene-1]

Sounds bad. I know. But. .......

Altering the I Bite series??

👀

Definitely doesn't mean deleting two fully written chapters

But HEAR ME OUT.

Pitbull hybrid reader. A rescued, retired fighting dog hybrid. Torn up, untrusting, scarred, disabled from your wounds. Snapping out of pure fear, deemed unable to be rehabilitated. Content with thinking no one wants you. You don't want to be anyone's anyways, humans have done enough to you.

But John Price has always found beauty in broken things.

And Nikolai loves a hard earned project.

NikPrice x reader??

How we feeling about this? Comments are extremely appreciated, I'm indecisive. ♥️

Edit- I'M DOING IT RAHHHHH*

#cod x reader #disabled reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw x reader #kero thoughts #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #cod nikolai x reader #Nikprice x reader #hybrid au #hybrid reader