its always hours with you. hours for you to find an outfit you liked, to do your hair and makeup just the way you like.
he's a hero, for crying out loud. highly decorated, ex sas.
yet, here he is, watching over you. you, putting in earrings that cost more than his salary every month.
"we're running late," he reminds you, leaning against your doorframe.
you shake your head and stand up, your dress falling to your ankles. you've hot strappy heals on - john already knows you'll complain about later. but you look gorgeous, he can't deny it.
"daddy won't mind," you say and pull open your closet. your selection of clutches hangs on the door and you take your time choosing.
"I mind," he grumbles. he's got the schedule planned out perfectly, where you need to be at what times. what other staff are doing at those times. the traffic situation at the time you were meant to leave.
now, that's all out the window. now, you aren't safe.
a frustrated breath leaves his lips and he pushes away from the door frame. "pick one," he says, grabbing the first clutch from the little hook. it's silver and sparkly and doesn't match your outfit at all.
you put it back and return your search. "if i can't find one to match my outfit, i'm not going," you say.
john sees several that 'match your outfit', but they're not cutting it for you. not matching your jewellery or some shit. but john knows what this really is. an excuse to not go. and not going to your dads charity event?
you'll never hear the end of it and he'll be out of the job.
you shriek when he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder with a grunt. "enough of this shit," he says, pocketing your phone (the only thing you actually need for this event) and your lip gloss (he knows you'd never leave home without it). "the car's waiting."
"john! put me down!"
"no way, princess," he says, carrying you out of your room. "you're not skipping your dads charity dinner."
you try in desperation to struggle. but he's got a tight grip on you, unwilling to let you go. and he's grunting and you shouldn't enjoy it, but you do.
but john carries you outside and puts you in the car. "I'll pay you more if we don't go," you say desperately, already reaching for your heels. "we can get fast food and some wine and do anything but this stupid charity event."
for only a second, john softens. he stands in front of the car door, blocking you in. "if you're good, we'll go for an hour and then we can get fast food, okay?"
you blink like you're trying not to cry. but john knows it's all an act. "okay," you reply and bite you lip. holding something back, aware of what's gonna happen if you're good.
you buckle yourself in and john leans closer, checking you're secure. "sure we can't go back inside, daddy?" you whisper.
his spine goes rigid. one little word usually gets you whatever you want. one little word has him bending to your every want. fuck, you know how to play him.
but he can't give in, not this time. "later, baby," he whispers and pulls away before either one of you can make a mistake.
you're pouting all the way to the charity dinner. but you're holding onto that promise of later.
You're not sure what you expected when kyle warned you that ghost is a bit strange, right?
"He just needs a place for a few days," your boyfriend had assured you, cuddled against your side and sounding more exhausted than he should.
You know about ghost, of course, kyle never shuts up about his lieutenant. You know he's damn good with just about any weapon, that he loves sour candy and small things. You also know that your boyfriend wouldn't offer your home to just anyone. So you agree.
Ghost is...strange, at first.
You've seen photos of him, but never without the mask. He's more expressive than you expected, not through facial expression but voice and body language alone. You chalk the constant staring up to getting used to you.
"Just ignore him, baby." Kyle huffs into your neck, pulling the blanket over you both.
"Kinda hard to just....ignore...that." you reply, glancing back over your shoulder at ghost just. Stood in the corner of yours and Kyle's bedroom. Like some freaky sleep paralysis demon. You know he's killed people before. More than you can comprehend.
"It's just one of his things, lovie," two arms slither around your waist and pull you into kyles chest. The whole time you can feel ghosts eyes on you. "It's something he has to do. Like my checks, yeah?"
Of course you couldn't forget those first weeks spent together. Where kyle would wake up every thirty minutes to check the room and locks. How it unnerved and annoyed you at first, how worried you were by the way his hands shook the whole time.
So you nod, snuggle back into bed.
When you wake up, ghost is gone, but you know subconsciously he was there most of the night. You wonder what happened that he can't stand to have his friends sleeping without someone to protect them.
You also notice how he sits a bit stiff in his chair, like his muscles ache.
"Is that...did you buy simon a fucking dog bed." Gaz stares at the corner where ghost stood last night. An XXL dog bed topped with blankets and a pillow. Even then his entire body would hang off it if he chose to lie down.
"Figured he'd want something somewhat comfortable." You hum, glance to ghost when he walks in.
The way his face splits into a lop-sided smile is answer enough.
Pondering a cold war AU with an irresistible young soviet army officer Nikto stationed in 1960s East Berlin.
You're the daughter of a high-ranking soviet general who is stationed in the heart of the cold war in East Berlin. Sheltered and spoiled you're your father's greatest treasure. Representative duties are part of his deployment here as well, so regularly dinner parties with diplomats, politicians and other esteemed guests are held at the beautiful house you had been given when your family followed your father here from Russia.
The silverware is polished and your mother wears her best dress and a whole can of hairspray in her updo when a dinner is hosted for honoured officers of the division your father is responsible for. Soldiers in sharp full dress uniforms far from home and sent here to defend the iron curtain, their boots polished to a shine and their spines straight when they snap a salute to your father upon arrival.
You're used to those men in their olive green attire with those shiny gold buttons and the red rimmed caps. But one of them sticks out tonight.
A promising young officer your father informs when you're introduced, who joined his division just a few months ago after a glorious review from his previous deployment, ordered to defend the Motherland where his skills are most needed.
You shake his hand and he inclines his head politely, but the pair of sharp and glacial blue eyes is fixed on you, his hand enveloping yours just a second longer than would be appropriate before your father cheerfully calls for the first round of vodka of the night.
It doesn't need more for you to fall head over heels for him right there.
Your mother notices your stolen glances throughout the dinner and remarks with a tiny knowing smirk what a handsome young man this particular soldier is and how pleased your father would certainly be with a son-in-law like this. He's proven to be so helpful to the General since his arrival, an honourable comrade through and through. There will surely be more occasions to get to know him a bit more.
After the dinner though, the young officer doesn't immediately return to the barracks outside of the city with the others. His duty isn't fulfilled yet for today.
Changed into civilian clothing he meets up with another man in a small pub in the nearby small town. The locals are tipsy enough at this hour to pay no mind to the two strangers settling on a table in the corner with a beer.
He has visited the Generals house tonight, as it was arranged, met the wife and the daughter. Infiltrating the family further shouldn't be a problem as well as gaining the Generals full trust.
The other man nods thoughtfully and scribbles something into his notepad.
His new order is clear now:
Become an important asset to the General and gain the daughter's favour. Find a way to search the house for intel and gather compromising information from the daughter and the wife.
And if you find prove of the suspected ties to the western agressor, namely the Americans, or any treasonous activities by the General — act accordingly.
The safety of the Motherland and all its brother states relies on you, comrade. Uncover the traitor.
---
@xoxunhinged that's your fault so please would you write this research-heavy fic for me thank you
You didn't know what to expect from the transfer to KorTac, from what Laswell said there were mostly betas with the exception of two alphas: Konig and Nikto. Except for the fact that after being captured and tortured Nikto's scent glands ended up so severely damaged due to acid burns that he doesn't have a smell anymore. Losing one's scent was equal to losing a part of your identity, you still had your scent at least, not that you were able to feel anything, but the knowledge of its existence was a small comfort. After being discharged you remember frantically looking through your closet in the hopes of finding anything that might make you smell something familiar, but it was no use. That night you laid in bed rubbing your scent glands raw in the hopes that maybe just for a moment you might feel something. You had to stop when the medic threatened to patch them off completely.
There was some talk around the base about Price and the other contesting your transfer, you don't know if it was true and at that point didn't really care anymore. Johnny tried making one last attempt to try and talk to you, but you screamed at him to get away from you. It's hard to say if your outburst or the sight of the destroyed nest was what made him go away. You spend the next few weeks in a state of hypervigilance, not trusting your instincts anymore, instead obsessively checking for microexpressions, nervous tics or tone changes everytime you have to talk with someone. It is stressful and exhausting, but it's the only way to put your mind at ease.
The first thing you feel when meeting KorTac is panic, they're all wearing some kind of masks, the one called Horangi even has sunglasses on. The introduction goes really awkward and you debate if it's too soon to contact Laswell again or if you should just hand in your resignation and save her the paperwork. But then things start going in another direction when they invite you for a movie night as a bonding activity. Which goes surprisingly well, watching Konig cook while scolding Horangi everytime he catches him snacking on ingredients and when he sneaks you a couple of pieces of carrots while winking conspirationally you can't help but smile a little.
There's a silent understanding between you and Nikto, he's the first to sense any small change in your behaviour, always somewhere close. This time there's always one of them watching your back and nobody is left behind. You see the 141 a few more times when the two tasks need to collaborate and anytime one of them tried talking to you one of your teamates, usually Horangi, would just wisk you away to try another of Konig's recipes. You lost count to how many staring contest Ghost and Nikto had, none of them saying anything, not blinking, you're not sure if half the time they were even breathing.
When Gaz's foot gets stucked under a piece of concrete when the wall collapses you're the first person to arrive there and by the time Price and Soap get there you're half carrying Gaz out of the building. Right before the medic takes him away he asks why did you do that to which you answer simply:
"I'm not gonna let people get hurt because of personal grudges."
There's a shadow of shame falling over their faces, but you're already going back with Nikto to the base, Price's raised hand remains still for a moment, the words on the tip of his tongue, but you're already gone.
You start a treatment to slowly regain your sense of smell, but the process is tedious and frustrating, the medication tastes terrible and sometimes it makes you nauseous. You're not sure when the guys start carrying candy around with them so you always have a sweet treat right after the last pill. Konig even brings some fancy chocolate that Horangi tries to steal from only half of the time, none of them ever gets the last piece, instead presenting it to you like some kind of prize.
After a mission that almost goes wrong, you wake up in the infirmary, your teamates sitting around on uncomfortable chairs, rising up at the first sign you're conscious. Despite his severe social anxiety Konig takes off his mask, his hands holding your face and encouraging you to look him in the eyes so you know he's not lying. Nikto brings your hand to his chest, feeling his heart beating eratically:
The kind where devotion borders on obsession, where love isn't just tender—it's consuming.
"I'd do anything for you, love," he murmurs, voice smooth, unwavering. "Anything you desire, and it's yours."
And the other doesn't hesitate, voice laced with something raw, something desperate.
"I want her to split me open—dig her fingers into my ribs and pry them apart. To hold my heart in her hands, feel the pulse of it against her palms, my blood staining her skin. I want her to pick my bones clean, crack them open, suck the marrow dry. I want to be ruined by her, consumed until there's nothing left of me but the taste of her name on what's left of my tongue."
Because love, when it’s deep enough, is a hunger—one that begs to be fed.
Nikto is back at the base. But if he usually goes through his gear with an empty head, distancing himself from the outside noise, now something is churning inside.
He shouldn't be thinking about this so much. But the conversations in his head won't let him forget.
The thing is, a few days ago someone approached Nikto with a question about you. It wasn't a conversation specifically about you, more of a general question about what Nikto does with his permanent residence during long absences. Nikto answered briefly that you live there and keep things from gathering dust. But as the conversation went on, the question surfaced as to why you two live together even when Nikto returns.
The person he was talking to doesn't know the details of your cohabitation. But the mere fact of this indirect conversation about it set off a wave of discussions in his head. And now he can't empty his mind.
The thought is very simple — why does Nikto want to see you in his home forever so badly? One of the main voices answered curtly that it's simply convenient with you. Another followed up, asking why that is. What are you doing that makes Nikto not even entertain the thought of you no longer living with him. A third voice adds fuel to the fire, asking since when did it become normal to periodically have sex with you and let you touch him wherever you want.
"Мы, видимо, где-то мощно проебались... (We've massively fucked up somewhere, apparently...)" the main voice quietly utters, raising his elbow and tiredly covering his eyes with it.
Nikto was certain there was nothing between you but the formal relationship of a homeowner and his temporary caretaker. But every thought that you might, in theory, go somewhere else makes Nikto grit his teeth and clench his fists.
Not one of the voices in his head wants to let you go.
Damn it, why did that person have to bring up the topic of a house sitter...
König- He said it first... Accidentally. It slipped out while he was waking up from some strong as hell anesthesia. You, being his concerned partner, ran in as soon as the nurses gave the okay. So there he was, lying on the hospital bed, and he was on the verge of tears the moment he saw you.
"Schatz …! Oh, da bist du ja … Ich habe dich vermisst!" His words were a bit slurred, and you had to place a hand on his chest to encourage him to stay down. "Oh, ich… Hehe... I love youuuu..."
When you tell him about it later, he's mortified but confirms that he meant it... He just wishes that he could've done it with more grace.
(Translation: Honey…! Oh, there you are… I missed you!)
Horangi- For someone who loves games of chance, this man was not going to take a chance by saying it too soon. Horangi did not want to come off as some clingy, mushy bastard. Or at least not yet.
So, of course, you had to say it first. It was before a massive operation, one where you wouldn't be by his side. You gave each other the usual 'don't die' and 'I'll haunt you if I die' talk, all lighthearted and nonchalant... Until the one meant to lead your team calls for you over the radio. You gently butt your helmet against his and just go for it.
"Kim... I love you. Okay?" You keep your voice low, only so he could hear.
His brain short circuited for a second, but he managed to respond very eloquently.
"I... Y-you too..."
You're gone (and laughing) before he can correct himself. He might've only lived through the mission out of sheer determination to actually say it back.
Nikto- This man would say it first as if he's said it before. So casual... Too casual.
It catches you off-guard, he was just complaining about how he had to go and clear up some mission details with his boss. His voice goes from soft, to a near growl, bored, and back to soft again... You're pretty used to his mannerisms since he always comes to you with a post-mission rant. You let him ramble a bit while you sharpen some knives, being the active listener he needs.
In the middle of it all, he suddenly hits you with: "You are a good listener... We love that." He pauses, then corrects himself with, "We love you. Anyway..."
You almost slip and nick yourself with the knife, turning to look at him properly. Maybe you should ask him to circle back to that, but he's already enthusiastically going on about something else that happened.
Sort of a part 2 to this I suppose? I just had some more thoughts... @cherelapine
Imagine that you and John can eventually return home after almost a year of being wholly committed to your part as "the married couple next door". The information you gathered about this terrorist (most of it came from his wife who had very loose lips) was enough to get him and the group he worked with arrested.
When the two of you finally arrived back on base, though, the shift was instant.
Obviously everyone knew that you and John would most likely be somewhat closer than you were before you left. Soap, Gaz, and Ghost had been briefed to just act like they usually would around you until your dynamic shifted back to normal.
But they weren't expecting that when you got off the heli that you would be holding hands... and still wearing the wedding rings you were given.
You settled back into routine quickly, just now you do everything together.
Training, eating, sleeping, briefings, paperwork, hell you even shower together.
They really tried to ignore it. Figured that you would eventually go back to normal. But no.
"You want a cuppa, baby?" You asked, not even turning around from the recroom kitchenette.
"Please, love."
You made your way back to the couches where everyone was sitting with two steaming hot mugs of tea in your hands, handed one to John who took it with a nod of his head, his ring clinking against the ceramic, and then promptly lowered yourself onto his lap. He didn't bat an eye at the sudden display of affection. No, he just wrapped his arm around you, fingers digging into your waist, and planted a kiss on your shoulder.
The others had to try act like the petnames and displays of affection were normal. You had basically been married for a year, they understood that. But it was like you had been together for years. They figured they would have to address it at some point.
The only thing preventing them from saying anything? Every night they could hear from Johns room the sound of the wood of his bed slamming into the wall, echoing around the entire barracks. They could hear your moans. Pathetic little mewls and pleads, sometimes even cries. The walls were so thin sometimes they swore they could hear the wet sound of Johns cock pistoning in and out of you, even over the sound of your moans and his grunts.
They all jerked off to the sounds every night.
They couldn't address it because they were afraid you would stop...
No thoughts just alpha!ghost who has a fucked up taste in scents.
He doesn't care for the flowers, the sweets, the honey-warm notes in most potential partners. Whenever price huffs about some handsome little omega with a sweet scent, ghost nods along in feigned interest. He pretends to enjoy the typical scents because he knows the ridicule he'd face if he shared what really got him going.
Sour, sharp, so bitter they burn the back of his throat. Scents that reek of fear.
There's no excuse for it, really. He can't blame it on instincts, alphas want to protect their mates after all. Whatever is inside ghost that craves the hurt, the danger, the purely fucked-up is all him.
Maybe that's why he latches so tight when he meets you.
A soldier from a different unit, scent turned permanently bitter after too long in enemy possession. Prolonged trauma is known to warp pheromones, after all.
Most people have to grit their teeth and force themselves to talk to you. Your scent to off putting it sends their instincts scrambling. Trying to decipher what you mean when you are undeniably different from the standard.
You smell of terror. Of every bad thing that's happened to you, and for once someone isn't clawing at their skin to ignore it. For once someone, ghost, wants all of you.
It's like you were made for eachother, and neither of you are letting go.
Thinking about meeting your future husband, john price, at a bar...right?
But it's not the usual way you'd think. No glances across the bar, no shared smirks or flirty touches.
In fact, you hadn't even noticed john until another man shoulder-checked you instead of stepping the the two inches it took to get around you. The man, drunk by the smell of his breath, had whirled on you "watch where you're going, bitch."
The hand never grabbed your arm, because john stepped in.
Large body between you and the strange man, some words hissed that you couldn't focus on with the hunk of muscle un front of you. Between one blink and the next the man was flat on the floor and johns knuckles were bloody.
On the sidewalk after getting kicked out, with streetlights casting a smoky halo around john, you knew you had to take him home.
One night led to mutliple, led to staying for breakfast and coffee dates and then real dates. Led to whispered confessions and your dreams for the future slowly shifting to include your john. Led to a wedding and an even better wedding night.
On your honeymoon john insisted on taking you out of the country to meet some friends and stay in some fancy cabin.
"–And this is nikolai, but everyone calls him nik." John nods to a man you'd recognize anywhere.
"Are you...are you the man from the bar." You've never been good with subtlety. You look at price "why are you friends with the guy from the bar?"
Of course. Your husband whom you've believed to be your lucky savior since you met him has actually had his eyes on you for far longer. In his infinite wisdom, he decided staging a rescue was the best way to impress you back then.
...nikolai has the audacity to laugh when you chew john out for it.
Kyle "fuck I don't want to accidentally offend a bug hybrid..." garrick who is so careful to he respectful when he meets you. He knows how poorly bug hybrids are treated, especially a beetle like you. He seems cool and charming externally but internally he's calculating how long to look at your mandibles before it becomes rude.
Vs
Simon "fuck yessss yes a beetle fuck yeah–" riley who has no sense of social conventions when he's trying to flirt. Meaning, he has no problems cornering you against a wall and huffing "can i lick the underside of your elytra when we fuck?"
...gaz promptly steps on his foot for it, but shocking that was what got you in their bed...
Now imagine [low presentation wolf!reader] trying to get closer to wolf!ghost...
Ever since that initial meeting, ghost growling over you, all you can think about is his fur.
Maybe it's silly, obsessing over your superiors personal hygiene simply because he's a wolf. You remember being a small pup in your mothers lap, begging her to brush your fur just like your brothers and sisters. How your inner wolf loved the feeling of claws against your scalp.
You stare at ghost across the mess hall, where he's tucked into the corner and hunched over a plate of meat, and wonder if he feels that desire whenever his pack touches him.
"Don't mind him, he's not very social." Gaz blocks your line of site, tray loaded with his own food and a concerning amount of spinach to sandwich ratio. "Prefers to do stuff alone."
"....really." you hum, knowing well enough that no wolf hybrid likes to be alone. You're pack animals, after all. You stumble for the right words, humans and their sensitivity to the concept of hybrid dynamics, "So you don't like...bond...with him?"
"Nah," shrugging, gaz leads you to a table not far from ghosts, nodding to soap as he sits "he does his own thing, we learned fast he doesn't do bonding."
You frown more. Ghosts ears pin back, and you wish you had the ears of your sisters to hear whatever sound he made.
It goes on like that for days. Talking to ghosts pack while he stays far away, learning just how little they know his needs.
Ghost still refuses to talk to you. Though you can smell his scent outside your door in the early mornings, like he came to linger outside and left before you could catch him.
His eyes are always on you. Your inner wolf is happy to have so much attention, already planning how to make him a packmate.
The slightly more aware you knows all the precursors to a threat display. To a fight.
You don't know how your new team will react when it happens. You don't know if you'll win or if you'll lose your throat in a spatter on the grass.
All you know is how horrible it feels to be alone and without your pack. You and ghost are alike in that sense.
You resist, yet your soul obeys 🌾 chapter 3: Mules and moments in the dark
Female!reader x Nikolai (main), reader x Nikolai x tf!141, poly!141. wc: 4.1k ish.
<-last chapter -🌾- next chapter ->
tags: religious themes - christianity, religious trauma, church going, daddy kink, modesty, discussion of religions, virginity, virginity kink, sex, sex before marriage, falling in love, homophobia and biphobia, polyamory, smut, spanking, dom sub, group sex, farming, (author didn’t grow up on a farm), family issues, jealousy, shame, growing up, sadness, horses, mean-ish Nikolai, kinda arranged marriage, masturbating, age gap, more maybe added.
A/N: uh. idk. it happened. Consider supporting my coffee addiction on Kofi <3
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Embarrassment still filled your body from being caught with Nikolai by Johnny but you tried your best to hide it.
You were one of the good girls, your mother used to say, pure and right. Long skirts, bible studies, always behaving… almost.
You weren’t a kid forced into a way of living anymore. Sure, you had to follow some of their rules until you moved out again, but you didn’t believe in their god just because they were adults anymore. Even if some of the teachings about morals and values still creeped along your edges, you weren’t the same as when you were a kid.
Mere seconds ago you had almost kissed Nikolai.
You took one look at the female Mule called Star and instantly fell in love. She was big but an absolute sweetheart, half of one of her ears missing which had happened at the former home. But she was so trustful, happily taking the treats that Johnny gave you, out of your palm.
The two donkeys were loud and happy, just like they should be. They clearly favored Johnny, pushing at him for attention, which was adorable - the scot cooing at them and scratching them as long as they wanted.
“He read several books on donkeys before he rescued them,” Nikolai softly told you as you watched Johnny scratch the two animals at the same time, “Even took several courses to make sure he knew how to handle Bella and Stella.”
“They’re adorable,” you answered, never taking your eyes off the trio, one of the donkey’s trying to open Johnny’s pocket to get to the small bag of treats he kept there,"especially around Johnny.”
“They also like Simon - we can’t really figure out why. He doesn’t particularly like them.” Even though you hadn’t met Simon yet, you found the idea cute and it made you giggle. The idea of a veteran somehow stuck with two donkeys who loved him? It was sweet.
It had been over four years since you had ridden in general, if not a little more. After Mary died, the giant shire horse taking her last breath with her head resting in your lap, the idea of getting another horse had been unrealistic to you. You wouldn’t be home enough. But as you helped get Star ready, it was like the love of it came back to you. The scent wasn’t the same, but there was a familiarity in tacking her up.
Star was gentle as she followed, barely needing any direction, dutifully following you, Nikolai and Soap.
You had borrowed one of their helmets, reminding yourself to bring your own old one next time.
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You had felt younger the moment you settled in the saddle, a somehow ridiculous thought given you weren’t old, but you still felt it. Like the wonders of being a kid with a connection to an animal did to you.
Riding her was like coming home almost; she was the sweetest ever, happy to follow your instructions and when Johnny offered you to go to the bigger field so you could try to gallop for a bit, you barely let him finish before agreeing.
It was truly like being younger again. The many hours you spent riding as a kid and teenager, always smelling of horse according to your friends in school.
Star whinnied with delight, nuzzling into your hands afterwards, demanding more pets while you talked to Johnny and Nikolai, helping get her cleaned up afterwards.
“This is Kyle,” Nikolai introduced the handsome black man that grinned at you and offered you his hand. As you shook it, you wondered if they all were so fucking pretty and what the odds of several hot people living together were. Maybe it had been a requirement to join their team.
“Well, hello there, lass,” Kyle crooned, smile turning charming, wagging his eyebrows, “aren’t ya a sight for sore eyes.”
Your toes curled in shyness and all you could manage was a small giggle, feeling your face go warm before Nikolai let out a small grunt.
“Back off, shchenok,” Nikolai warned and the sudden spike of jealousy from Nikolai certainly didn’t help the way you felt, as the russian continued, “you have chores to do, da?”
“Aww, don’t be like that, Nik,” Kyle answered, sending you a wink, “and nope, I don’t, all done for the day.”
“Stop botherin’ ‘em,” the sudden voice made you jump and turn around - only to look up. A guy with a surgical black facemask watched you like you were a prey for a moment. Then, despite being unable to see his face, you could see he smiled; the way his cheeks moved, the way small crows feet appeared next to his eyes, “Guessin’ you're the famous youngest daughter of the Clarke’s, eh?”
“Yup,” you agreed, shaking the light haired man’s big, scarred hand that was missing a finger, “Though I wouldn’t call myself famous exactly - bit much, innit?”
The guy shrugged. Even though he was wearing the surgical mask, he looked fucking hot. Maybe it was just a requirement back when they all joined.
“not a lot happenin’ around here,” he pointed out, “I’m Simon. Guess ya’ figured that out.”
“Yeah,” you answered, giving him a smile, “My mother has mentioned ya’ too.”
Kyle snickered loudly behind you and you grinned as you saw Simon roll his eyes.
Eating with them just came… natural. It was fun and simple, but you enjoyed spending time with all of them much more than you had expected. A nice bloody break from your parents.
You pretended not to see Price kiss Simon quickly in the kitchen - and Johnny giving Kyle’s asscheek a squeeze.
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“Don’t hide from me, little one,” Nikolai crooned, a fun dark tone to his voice that definitely shouldn’t make your legs feel this weak, “you think you can hide from a proper soldier, hm?”
You snickered, sticking your head out from behind the tree, looking straight at him as you answered,
“Johnny said ya’ were more of a pilot.”
A deep grumble left him and he almost looked like an annoyed bear, muttering something in Russian that you didn’t understand. However there was a glint in his eyes, something you didn’t have the time to understand before he let out a “I’ll show ya’ pilot.”
A second later he was dashing for you and almost like an excited child, you let out a shriek, moving yourself to avoid him.
It had been years since you had played tag - you couldn’t even remember when. You weaved back and forth between the plum trees, laughing so hard it almost hurt.
When he finally caught you - and you had a feeling that he was being slow on purpose- the tension felt like an elastic stretched to its furthest. Pressed ever so slightly against a tree, your hand holding onto the front of his jacket, the other his sleeve, you didn’t say anything.
He whispered your name softly, reaching up to touch your chin. Your chest was moving up and down as you tried to catch your breath, unable to look away from his eyes.
The kiss was short and soft; pressed against your lips like a promise neither of you knew what meant. You weren’t sure it mattered anyways, because holy shit, Nikolai had just kissed you. Your mind was screaming, a soft sound leaving you instead of any proper words. Fuck, you wanted to kiss him again, it was too short, too proper - you wanted more, you wanted…
“Let’s get you home, dorogaya,” he muttered then and you weren’t sure if you wanted to scream or cry at his words.
“M’kay” you answered instead, his smile warm before he leant forward and gave you another short, too short, kiss. Another rush of sparks went through you, fireworks going off and your heart beat a tad too fast, almost skipping a beat now and again.
“Before it gets too cold and your parents think I am being improper.”
You snorted.
“Please,” you grunted as the two of you began to walk, “they would forgive you - they adore you.”
He chuckled.
“We better behave. They have told me enough about their god already.”
You snickered, walking close to him, the urge to intertwine your fingers with his almost overwhelming.
As the two of you emerged from the trees, you knew for a fact that the two of you were being watched; your parents were no doubt trying to pretend not to be watching like hawks inside, but you refused to look over at them. From Nikolai’s amused smile, you figured you weren’t wrong.
“Thank you for today,” you said softly, “it was really nice.”
“Da, it was,” he agreed and you tried to push away the memory of his hands on you, pressing you against the hay, “you sleep well, milaya.”
“You too.”
“I want to kiss you good night,” he whispered, voice barely audible, “but I fear your father will hunt me with his pitchfork.”
You actually laughed, out loud. Then you dared to lean forward to give him a hug.
“See you, Nikolai.”
“See you, dorogaya.”
“Well?” you barely managed to close the door behind you, the light of the small hallway turning on, your parents not even hiding any longer, your mother looking at you with excited eyes, “how did it go? You were gone for a long time?”
“Bit bold of him to give you a hug, innit?” your father asked, puffing his chest up a little, as if he was going to give Nikolai a stern talk, making you roll his eyes, “you didn’t do anything else, did you?”
“Oh hush, hon, you hugged me on our second date,” your mother cut in again, fucking hell, none of them trying to give you a moment to answer, “besides Nikolai is a proper gentleman, he would never do that.”
Oh, if they only knew.
“For fucks sa– sorry - I mean, nothing happened. I asked for a hug.”
Your mother looked upset with your cursing for a moment but beamed when you said you asked for it.
“Well, you were gone for hours - what did you do? You weren’t alone all of the time, were you?”
You rolled your eyes at your father again.
“No, we weren’t, relax,” you answered, “I spend a lot of the time with their animals - oh, they have a mule! Star, just like your dog! She is absolutely adorable, a proper dream to ride, I tell you–”
You saw the exact moment your parents stopped listening, trying to cut in and ask more questions, but you just kept telling them about the farm and the animals, about the donkeys and how they adored Johnny, about how fast Star was
When you finally finished gushing about the animals about twenty minutes later, they didn’t have any other questions, leaving you alone - which meant you had time to text Beatrice and tell her everything.
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You were busy most of the following day, helping your parents around the farm, since you felt like you had to, given how they were letting you stay home for free. Besides, you enjoyed it, though you wondered if you needed to convince them to get a helper or two eventually, so they wouldn’t be all alone.
Your own Star, the old border collie sweetheart, was dutifully following you all day, laying down and watching you work, like the good boy he was. Tail wagging slowly, sleeping as you cleaned and fixed stuff that took a little longer.
You made sure to pet his greying muzzle and pat his belly often, sneaking him a bit more treats than you were probably supposed to. Your own little guardian dog, watching over you and protecting you from the mundane things.
Though you enjoyed the work, you couldn’t stop thinking about the men next door. Every single one of them but in particular Nikolai. The fact that you were doing exactly what your parents wanted was annoying but at the same time, you didn’t really care at this point.
They didn’t want you to mess around the way you did, after all. Kissing and touching was way too sinful for their hearts to bear.
It all culminated that night.
It was late. Waaaay too late for you to be awake, to the point where it was nearing being too early. But… Fuck.
You had had an insane dream. A very dirty, wet one, that made your toes curl and breathing fasten a little. Even before your hand reached for your panties, you already knew you were wet.
Touching yourself while living with your parents wasn’t exactly on your top ten favorite things to do, but bloody hell, you were only a human. You slowly slid two fingers between your lips, smearing the wetness of your pussy around a little, teasing yourself.
The dream was graphic. So graphic you felt sinful even thinking about it, but you didn’t know how you were supposed to stop doing so.
Nikolai between your legs, body exposed, cock filling you up; you hadn’t even had sex with another person yet but oh you could imagine. You wished you hadn’t thrown out your vibrator before moving home, but your mother would no doubt have found it at some point and that wasn’t a situation you wanted to experience.
Fingers had to do it. Nikolai fucking you - maybe it was on a bed, maybe on a table or the floor, it didn’t matter; his voice dripping with lust, calling you his petnames and grunting your name, big hands on your soft hips. One hand on his chest, the other around his neck, whining into his skin, your legs around him. Sirupy words make your mind feel dumb, pleasure and need too much, whimpering his name.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, as if it wasn’t sinful enough, having sex before marriage, then there was the fact you weren’t alone.
The fact that they were all watching. Price, Johnny, Kyle, Simon; all touching themselves and each other, sometimes touching you and Nikolai too, praising you and moaning loudly.
You bit down on your other hand as you came on two fingers.
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Going to church the next day didn’t exactly help with your shame over what you had dreamed and done.
Not that you had done it willingly. Most of the morning had been a fight and it wasn’t until your mother threw the overly modest dress and threatened to throw you out that you joined. You felt unable to meet the priest’s eyes but forced himself as he greeted you, welcoming you back.
Lamb returning to its flock.
Please. They would throw you out on your arse and elbows if they could hear even half of your thoughts.
Psalms and sermons. The eyes not only of the people around you but of the statues and paintings inside the church as well. Old childhood friends you hadn’t spoken with in years sending you a small smile, others fully ignoring you.
The sight of Jesus on the cross. Was he staring at you? it felt like he was.
You felt slightly nauseous the entire time.
Memories of sermons that had frightened you as a kid, made you afraid to do anything improper even if you didn’t mean to, words that had made you feel like your existence was wrong. Never good enough, always close. Maybe you should just have become a nun.
Escaping your childhood home had also been escaping this. Growing from it, finding yourself. Becoming someone who didn’t fear everything they said in the church, who lived a life the best she could.
You didn’t judge your parents for believing it. When you were younger you thought them being religious made them bad people. Now, older and not constantly frustrated with them, you realised it was because they needed it.
They found safety in it. It didn’t mean you agreed.
Leaving church was a relief.
It was windy as you walked with the dogs afterwards, the trees whispering as they swayed above you. Star was closest and you made sure not to walk too quickly, Gabby and Saint rushing back and forth, eagerly running after the tennis ball you threw.
How the fuck were you getting through this whole thing without going insane?
Your parents, the farm, the neighbours. A life in the city was still the dream.
It was what you wanted, you wanted the city that never slept, the possibilities, the humans… didn’t you?
Didn’t you?
You didn’t want to be a housewife like your mother wanted you to; didn’t want to spend your life raising kids and making food. You wanted to do something with your life. It didn’t even have to be something wild, it didn’t need to be world changing. Just something so you felt useful, so you felt like you had a proper routine and wasn’t depended on someone else.
But leaving for London again meant you needed money.
As you once again threw the ball for Gabby and Saint, sneaking Star a treat while they were busy, you remembered your mother when you came back home.
“Look at what it got you, sweetheart,” your mother shut in, shaking her head, “thank the lord you’re back - he got you, hun.”
You let out a snort at the memory. Star touched your hand with his wet snout.
Money. Always the issue, wasn’t it?
You felt slightly nauseous again as you concluded it meant that if you were unable to find something online, you needed to find one in a nearby town.
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Walking towards their farm felt scarily natural already, even though you hadn’t been invited.
You watched the buildings coming closer. Simon was on the roof of the barn, Johnny next to him.
The kiss caught you slightly off guard. Nothing wrong with it, bit hot even, but you had also very much seen Simon kissing Price the other night. Johnny touching Kyle.
Well well, wasn’t that interesting?
The memories of your wet dream made your face feel warm.
“Hello, little one.”
You jumped, the memories of naked bodies disappearing as you spun around.
Nikolai was closer than you expected, hands in his pockets.
“Nikolai.” His name came out of your mouth in a surprised whisper.
“Tsk tsk - crossing property lines again, milaya,” he crooned, stepping even closer, his words making you giggle, “here to steal more plums?”
“Not today,” you answered teasingly, making him grin.
“No?” he asked, his eyes following the tip of your tongue as you slowly licked your lips.
“No,” you promised, “maybe tomorrow.”
A soft chuckle left him. You kept thinking about the kisses - about his lips, the warmth of his body, him pressing you against the hay, then against the tree, the dream about all of them. The way you still wanted it despite the church’s words of purity. You wanted to drag your hands along the stubble on his cheeks and chin, push the rouge stray of hair behind his ear –
“I have secret to show,” Nikolai pulled you from your, well, very improper thoughts with his gentle words, “Or, ah, not my secret exactly.”
The secret, which apparently was not his secret, turned out to be a horse.
“Holy fuck,” you said at the sight of it, staring at the big stallion that was currently being brushed by Johnny, who was grinning proudly. Simon was resting against one of the stalls, watching you and Nikolai as you arrived.
You weren’t dressed to ride today, at least not “properly” since you were wearing a skirt, but it didn’t matter.
“Ain’t he bonnie?” Johnny asked, pride clear in his voice, “a rescue too - he dinnae like Simon.”
“Prick,” Simon muttered at the horse, though he didn’t sound serious about it.
“Hello there, pretty boy,” you greeted the horse, making sure he could see you as you moved to pet him. He looked a little sceptical, but the moment Johnny gave you a treat, he seemed much more interested in you.
“Was nae supposed tae get another,” Johnny explained a little absentmindedly, making sure the horse was comfortable with the brushing, “but, ach, Ah saw ‘is pictures and he looked proper sad, didn’t he, Nikolai?”
“Da,” Nikolai agreed behind you, resting next to Simon, leaning against the stall, “but we could not stop you. Not really.”
You snickered.
“What’s his name?”
“Bo.”
“... What?”
“Et’s just Bo. He reacts tae it, so Ah figured it would be rude to change.”
Bo, as the massive horse was apparently called, let out a little snickering sound, before nuzzling into your palm, no doubt trying to find another treat.
“That’s cute,” you finally said, even though the name wasn’t what you had expected a big horse like this to be called. As Bo figured out you didn’t have any more treats, he looked away, turning his head to expectantly look at Johnny.
“Price loves ‘im,” Johnny continued, giving Bo a soft pat and another treat, “Drove me ‘nd everything to pick ‘im up.”
“You threatened to leave us,” Simon dryly pointed out and Johnny waved dismissively at him, as if that wasn’t an important part of the reason.
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The darkness was slowly taking over, cuddling the sun into its sleep; it left a chill wind curling in between the trees, kissing your hair, while the walk from their place to your parents’ was covered in warm, orange tones. The birds sang around you, calling out for each other.
The sound of your footsteps had been joined by Nikolai’s a little while ago.
Let me walk you home, milaya.
You had to google whatever the fuck that nickname meant but you had been too distracted by the spark in your body to deny him. Fuck being a strong independent woman when he could join you for a walk home - didn’t make you less of a woman after all.
You had flipped Kyle off as he had winked at you when Nikolai had said that, since he had a too smug smile on his lips.
“Nikolai?” You didn’t look away from the fence that slowly came closer and closer. His jacket was around your shoulders, keeping you warm. A proper gentleman, like your parents would coo about, it was someone like him you would need.
“Da?”
“You want to stay here, right?” You didn’t know why you felt like it was now you needed to know, you already knew the answer but… you still needed him to say it.
Nikolai stopped. You did too, looking at him, an uncertainty in your stomach you didn’t like. You knew what he was going to say, knew that his life was here, knew that the team was here. You wanted to ask about the others too, wanted to know if they were all together… if he was together with them. But right now it wasn’t the most important part, that would be something to worry about later. If he was going to say what he was going to say, well… then there was no reason for you to know. For you to get attached.
You hated it, hated that you made him look at you with hesitation in his eyes. This had been another lovely day, you hadn’t felt like an intruder. You had fun, even when helping them, you… You felt welcome. But this wasn’t London. This wasn’t somewhere you could easily study down the road, this wasn’t room mates and late nights fish’n’ chips, this wasn’t tourists and museums, small cafes and beautiful buildings.
Walking home, even if the two of you weren’t close to your parents’ place yet, reminded you that you didn’t want this. That you wanted to leave. That you still had those dreams.
“Yes,” he finally answered, something in his eyes almost sounding sad, “I do want to stay here.”
Yeah. You had expected it yet it still hurt like fucking hell to hear.
Nikolai reached for you but instead you slid off his jacket and gave it to him instead. Neither of you said anything for a few seconds and you looked away.
“I don’t think you should walk me home, Nikolai.”
A soft sound left him. You dared to look over at him. The big man who had caught you stealing an unripe plum not too long ago looked upset… almost… sad.
“Why, milaya?” his voice wasn’t loud as he asked but he took a step closer and… you took one back.
“Because I want to kiss you again,” you whispered shamefully, fidgeting with your skirt, “I just… I’ll walk on my own. Thank you for today, Nikolai.”
You turned before you could stop yourself, ignoring the russian as he called out your name, crawling over the fence while you pretended you weren’t crying, forcing yourself not to look back at him.
(+18!) implied: sex and pegging; man in skirts (i love it), Price enjoy some; Kyle is afraid for his life (but he liked, trust me); we all know why Ghost is limping;
Strong!reader who goes to the base gym at least twice a day.
Strong!reader who wears shorts and tank tops even on the coldest days, just to show off her muscles.
Strong!reader who doesn't take any disrespect to heart. Why resolve things with dialogue when you have biceps the size of melons and a punch strong enough to knock anyone out?
Strong!reader who (sometimes) tightens the lids of every container in the Task Force kitchen, just so Soap or Kyle have to come to her and ask her to open them.
Occasionally—every single time—she opens the jar and says:
"Anything else, my princess?" before watching them roll their eyes and go back to work. Not before getting a little smack on the ass.
Strong!reader who challenges Ghost to a fight almost every time she sees him.
Strong!reader who got tired of waiting for Ghost to accept her invitation and attacked him in the dead of night.
Strong!reader and Ghost, who after the fight had to be treated by the base medics and still got scolded for destroying the quarters.
Strong!Reader and Ghost who refuse to tell who lost the fight.
(Even though everyone could see Ghost limping through the halls and her strutting around without a hint of pain.)
Strong!reader who has already shown Price why her pelvis is so strong. And yes, that includes an experience the Captain never thought he'd enjoy, and now he goes back to the woman's room almost every night wanting more.
Strong!reader who bought Soap a mini skirt for Christmas. It was all laughs and teasing until she demanded he put it on and strip for her. Obviously, he did. And he found out why Price sat strangely in the mornings.
Strong!reader who treats Kyle like a princess. Buying him lunch, carrying his equipment, and even buying him little gifts. Kyle knew he'd be the next one sitting strangely in the morning when he received a personalized lubricant and dildo with his callsign on it as a gift.
Strong!reader who doesn't bend to the feminine standard of being a girly girl. She's strong. She likes being strong. And she'll never give in… But she loves making men give in. Especially the 141.
I told you guys, i open that door. Now i will not close it.
you being soap’s gf and the two of you being known as the horniest couple on base, only rivaled by kyle and his gf who are as horny but know how to hide it better than you two
like literally you and soap will make out and grind on each other on any surface available be it the mess hall or the gym
anyway so you know that the four of you are all bisexuals, and you come up with the idea to mix and match each other, yknow get together with kyle’s sweet gf and watch as your two bfs tackle each other on the bed and you’re all so excited UGH
im just thinking about you and her touching each other, groping boobs and touching your wet pussies while you watch your two bfs eat each other, the two of them almost getting aggressive and tackling and pinning and it’s all so hot
or also getting johnny watching you get fucked by kyle while kyle watches his gf get her guts rearranged by his best friend
[shout out to @konigs-lover who sent me this nsfw artwork which possessed me early this morning.]
Imagine König’s massive frame wedged tight under a crumbling broken section of wall, gear snagged, shoulders jammed at an awkward angle, lower body stuck helplessly on the other side of the wall, voice gone hoarse from shouting for help. Any second now, someone would find him. A teammate. A friendly. Anyone.
Fingers brushing his hips. Relief crashing through him. “Ja- here! I’m stuck, pull me- ”
The hands didn’t pull tho. What they did was slid lower, hook into his waistband, and yank, pants and underwear dragging down in one rough motion, catching briefly on the thick muscle of his thighs before his cock sprang free into the cool air, heavy and already half hard from adrenaline an the awkward position.
“What- ?”
A soft, warm palm wrapped around him, fingers stretching wide around the girth of his cock, stroking, thumb dragging slow over the flushed head and smearing the bead of precum that had already gathered.
König jerki no hard, trying to twist away, but the wall held him fast as the hand continued squeezing, stroking again, almost curious.
Then came the press of thighs.
Soft. Delicate. Trembling faintly as they bracketed his own powerful legs, hand wrapping around his cock and the head nudging against a cunt before sinking down slow, tight heat splitting wider and wider around his cock. Every inch was a struggle. He could feel the way your walls fluttered and fought the intrusion, the burn, the way you had to rock and twist to take more of him.
His cock was too thick, too long, and your were forcing it anyway. The head popped past the tightest ring and you kept going, thighs trembling violently, soft gasps turning into bitten off whimpers as you sank lower, lower, until your ass was flush against him and he was buried to the hilt in scorching, clenching heat that felt like it was trying to strangle his cock.
König’s head cracked against the stone. A guttural, broken groan tore out of his chest.
“Scheiße- you’re- hnnngh- too fucking tight- ”
You started moving, rolled tour hips in desperate, greedy circles, using his stuck body like a toy they’d found. Every drag of that impossibly tight cunt up his length made his vision white out. Every time you dropped back down, takin him all over again, the wet, filthy sound of it echoed in the narrow space.
Your thighs shook harder as you fucked themselves on him harder, faster, chasing something.
He couldn’t stop it.
Couldn’t thrust. Couldn’t pull out. Could only stand there, pinned and used, while some faceless stranger took what they wanted from his cock. His balls were drawn up tight, cock throbbing violently inside that squeezing heat, leaking steadily with every clench. He could feel you getting wetter, slicker, the mess dripping down his shaft and onto his thighs.
“Hör auf- stop- I’ll- fuck- I’m gonna- ”
You didn’t stop, only rode him harder, cunt fluttering and spasming around the thick intrusion like you were getting off on how much it hurt, how much it shouldn’t fit. König’s growls turned ragged, voice cracking behind the wall. His hips jerked uselessly, trying to buck you off, trying to thrust deeper despite himself, and every failed movement only made the tight heat grip him harder.
He was close.
Humiliatingly, terrifyingly close- cock pulsing, thighs shaking, trapped and used and unable to do a single fucking thing about it.
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