*141 regrouping after waiting for back up*
Gaz: God, waiting in a supply closet for three fucking hours by myself almost drove me insane
Soap: We had, uh, a pretty boring three hours, too…
Gaz: *looks at Soap before he looks at Ghost who avoids eye contact*
Gaz: No… you guys took it to pound town, didn’t you?
Ghost: Uh-
Gaz: Oh my fucking god, you did! You fucks were fucking!
Soap: Hold on-
*Price and Nik walk into view*
Price: Ready to go boys?
Gaz: Cap- Oh my fucking god- You too?!
Price & Nik: *visibly disheveled with bites on Price’s neck*
Gaz, pointing between Soap & Ghost and Price & Nik: YOU GUYS WENT TO POUND TOWN. AND I WAS STUCK IN A CLOSET. FOR THREE FUCKING HOURS!
Price: Kyle-
Gaz: THREE HOURS-
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭
John Price x f!reader x Nikolai
Summary: you get invited round John and Nikolai’s house for dinner, nothing out of the ordinary, or is it?
Tags: NSFW, f!reader, oral sex, p in v sex, voyeurism, fingering, alcohol ment, general ramblings
Notes: getting back into writing in the midst of exams :,)
1184 words, lightly edited, quite rambly at points
Masterlist
Part Two can be found here
In hindsight, there was no other way the evening could’ve ended. Between the warm burn of John’s scotch and the fire in Nikolai’s eyes as they trailed her on her way into the front room behind John, up her bare legs when she had plopped down onto their plush sofa, only breaking from his not-so-subtle ogling of her body to share a heated look with John, she really should’ve known it was a matter of time before something happened them, before Nikolai would slip from the armchair (his armchair, perfectly seated to see out the window, as Nikolai, Nik, was ever the people watcher and, owing to his profession, ever paranoid), pressing a downright desperate kiss against her lips, and finding his way between her legs, where he had been for the past however long, whilst John nursed his scotch, his eyes never leaving her and Nikolai.
There was no other way this could’ve ended, after years of longing looks, lingering touches, of being invited over for dinner with just the two of them, of Nikolai’s compliments and small talk that always bordered on out-and-out flirting, of John’s constant hospitality, there was nowhere else their friendship could've gone besides her with Nikolai eating her out. So, she supposed, deep down, she always knew it’d end up here, when John had shot her a quick fancy coming round for some dinner? text, not an uncommon occurrence but something certainly felt different, be it because she hadn’t seen the pair of them for months or the fact that it was John extending a hand out to her, and not Nikolai (as it often had been, as Nikolai was her friend first), she had a gut feeling that something was off about tonight, even when she arrived as usual and sat down with them as usual, courtesy of Nikolai, as John was damn near useless in the kitchen, the wine and conversation flowing. It was only when they moved to the front room, and Nikolai had taken a seat next to her on the sofa, moving from his chair not even five minutes after they entered the room, that her suspicions were proven correct, when he placed his hand high on her thigh and coyly asked her to join them for the night.
How could she refuse?
And now, looking away from Nikolai between her legs, his eyes closed and eyebrows knit together as he eased a finger into her cunt, his mouth latched to her clit, towards John, lounged back into his armchair, his glass of scotch long abandoned, his hand now stroking his cock, having pulled it out haphazardly. She moaned, bucked up against Nik’s mouth, licking her lips. God, she had never wanted to suck a man off so bad, aching for him to come over and ease his cock into her mouth, grab fistfuls of her hair and fuck her throat– but all in due time, she supposed. The night was still young, after all. Though, as Nikolai eased a third finger into her, curling his fingers upwards and hurtling her quickly toward release, she wonder how soon it’d be before he finally joined them, or if the whole evening would pass by with just her and Nikolai (though, as Nikolai finally tipped her over the edge, she realised she wouldn’t mind that so much).
Nikolai pulled away to rest his head on her stomach, his fingers still lazily thrusting inside of her even as she tried to squirm away, the pleasure slipping slowly into the burn of overstimulation, looking over at John with a smile.
“Are you not joining us, dear?” Nik drawled, pressing a kiss to her belly and finally withdrawing his hand.
“Mmm,” John groaned, eyes flicking between hers and Nik’s, “later.”
Nikolai grinned, and chuckled, moving up the length of her body and back up to her lips, pressing a quick kiss to her lips then leaned down to her ear.
“He always liked watching. He’ll join, do not worry.” He went back to her lips, intending to press another kiss to her lips again before she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back down, easing her tongue into his mouth to taste herself fully, Nikolai’s hand moving up to cradle her chin, his other hand easing down to his length, bringing it up to her cunt to rut against her heat, pulling a moan from both of them. Slowly, carefully, he began to ease into her, and though she was wet and her muscles were laxe thanks to her orgasm, she still felt a dull burn from the stretch, clutching Nikolai’s shoulders as he pressed kisses to her shoulder, his hands holding her waist, where her dress still was, bunched up, then moving up to cup her breasts, flick her nipples. Eventually, when she grinded against him, he finally moved, thrusting into her slowly, agonisingly to begin with.
“Nik, please.” She whined, nails digging into his shoulder and leaving crescent-shaped dents. He was so thick, and his hands were so rough as they pinch her nipple and moved down to circle her clit again, and it’d be so much better if he just sped up. To think, though, she could’ve had this for years, could’ve had Friday nights in getting fucked into Nik and John’s sofa, could’ve had quiet Saturday mornings lazing in bed and cuddling with them, could’ve joined them in domestic bliss if she’d simply asked, if she’d realised how she felt and just acted.
With a groan, she wrenched him down towards her, pulling his ear to her mouth, rasping, “Nikolai, ah, I swear to god if you don’t fucking speed up—” she was cut off with moan when he angled his thrusts up, and Nikolai shuddered, gripping her waist and speeding up, his mouth latched to her neck, no doubt leaving a mark.
“Hah, so impatient,” Nikolai chuckled, hooking her leg further up his hip, “as impatient as John”
Across the room, she could hear the man grumble, and looked over to find him still reclining back him his chair, legs spread, his hand stroking his length in time with Nikolai’s thrusts, his eyes flickering between Nikolai’s hip and her breasts, bouncing against Nik’s chest in time with his thrusts, looking intently.
“Aah, John— Nik!”
Nikolai angled her hips upwards, hitting her just right and making her clench around his cock. Nikolai moaned, speeding up his efforts, thrusting faster, rubbing her clit furiously and hurtling her over the edge for the second time that night. Nikolai helped her ride out her orgasm, only speeding back up again to chase his own, pulling her into a sloppy kiss and moaning into her mouth when he spilled into her. He slipped out of her, and she could feel him ooze out of her, making her shudder.
Nik pulled away, rubbing the corner of her mouth with his thumb, “You did so well, my lovely.” Nikolai turned around.
Dazed and blissed out, she barely noticed the shuffling across the room, the heavy footfalls heading towards the sofa.
“Aah John, decided to join us?”
If I’m up for it I might write a follow up, preferably with Price (one day I’ll actually work up the courage to write smut for him)
This was generally quite nice to write, I’m getting back into my style again and enjoying it once again which is lovely
This has been in my drafts for weeks now because my mind said ‘poly nikprice’ in a sleep deprived stupor and I haven’t been able to get rid of the idea for months now
Feedback is appreciated as always!
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Price and Nikolai meet and marry young. Their relationship is fast and like fire, burns hot and bright and quick. There’s no denying that they love each other, not a doubt in their minds, but there’s something that constantly has them at each other’s throats.
They’re undeniably good at their jobs when they work together, but Laswell has had to step in one too many times to prevent the bruises they come home with from coming for each other. They are hot and aggressive. The good times are perfect. The bad times are hell.
When Price hands over the divorce papers, Nikolai can’t find any sort of excuse to rip them to shreds and pretend they dont exist. The same way no one can deny they’re in love, he can’t deny that staying together will eat away at both of them until there’s absolutely nothing left. It’s bad. Very bad. So he signs his name, doesn’t let his eyes linger too long on the pages beyond where he has to write. Price doesn’t say a word. What’s done is done. Price leaves, and Nik stays.
They’re divorced, but work is work. Events continue to drag them together time and time again, and somehow, things are better than they ever were in the past. Nikolai asks how Price is doing. Checks in. Inquires about the task force he’s leading. Price returns the favor. Asks if Nikolai is keeping himself healthy. Jokes that he’s looking a little softer around the waist. Nikolai responds that he can still take Price any day. Price asks if that’s so. There’s a shine in his eyes. They’re clearly not talking about sparring.
Nothing happens, because both of them put that part of their relationship behind them years ago. It’s over and done with, but they can still be friends. Coworkers. Their teamwork is still unmatched, having each other’s backs like no other duo. Unstoppable when together.
Laswell is who talks to Price first. She’s far from blind, has been holding off on saying anything for…/months/, because she was unsure if it was her place. But as John’s best friend, she’s not going to stay quiet any longer.
The question shocks Price to his core. Is he still in love with Nikolai? That’s….that’s ridiculous. Those days are dead and gone, they’ve both moved on, but-
Ah, who is he kidding. John Price never stopped loving Nikolai Sokolov. He’s gone to sleep every night since the day those papers were signed wondering if they’d made a mistake, wondering if they could have made it work. But at the same time, he knew it was impossible. He remembers their last fight. Fingers around his neck, his own returning the same treatment. Kate screaming for them to /stop/.
Laswell takes his silence for what it is. A yes, plain and simple. But it’s not like he can do anything about it. That’s what he keeps telling himself, what he always tells himself. Laswell gives him an unreadable look. They don’t keep secrets. It makes him nervous, but the whole conversation slips his mind when soon enough, it’s time to return to work. Even a few months later, when given another opportunity to work with Nikolai again, Price doesn’t dare allow himself to think about it.
Not even when once the job is over, Nikolai invites him for drinks. Not even when Price shows up, dressed in his best clothes, and notices that Nikolai has done the same.
Not until Nikolai is sliding his palms over his cheeks, leaning in, a careful expression on his face.
“We’re old men, Johnathan. Been through a lot. But I have to ask, even after everything. Can you give me a second chance?”
There’s heat in his gut. Nothing explosive, just warmth, deep and calm. Familiar. Comforting.
Price says /yes/.
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