#still shooting Nik | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

corpsebasil · 1 year

Text

Just Friends 18+

You could not. Stop. Laughing.

You tripped over the edge of the couch and squeaked, almost hitting the floor before Nikolai wrapped an arm around your waist, catching you easily. Your husband fought for breath as well; you didn’t even remember what the hell he’d said that was so funny. And then you did.

A courtier during dinner had remarked on how cute the two of you were. You’d gave Nikolai the most aggressive side eye of your life, and he barely clamped down a laugh before winking at you.

“My wife outshines me, I’m sure.” He drawled, reaching over to twine his fingers with your own.

“She’s beautiful, yes.” The courtier smiled, pleased with his attention, and then looked to you, raising her delicate brows. “If it’s not too intrusive, will the court be expecting any princesses or princes soon?”

You’d coughed, choking on your wine at the prospect. You and Nikolai were a political alliance, arranged since you two were children; you had the chemistry of a science lab, unfortunately, but it only resulted in him being your closest friend and the easiest man to tease of your life.

“Oh yes.” Nikolai gave you the side eye this time, silently urging you to play the part. And then his next comment made your face go completely red. “Between you and me, I plan on bedding her as soon as this dinner is finished.”

You kicked his leg under the table, shooting him a look, and the courtier blushed madly.

“Oh my, that’s—” she blinked with embarrassment and found her napkin suddenly extremely interesting, giving up on a civilized conversation with the king.

So now the two of you were in your rooms, both still hot with amusement at how shamelessly he’d lied to the courtier.

“You’re a bastard.” You gasped, jumping away to head to the bedroom. He followed, still grinning, and watched as you set your crown on the side table like it was a watch, tugging at the laces on the back of your dress. “Shit, can you—”

“Yep.” His fingers found your stays as he undid them, used to having done this for you before. He’d had no idea how difficult women’s dresses were before he’d married you, watching you hop around in vain, reaching for strings just out of grasp. “And technically, sweetheart, I am a bastard.”

“If you’re a bastard I’m a usurper.” You groaned out loud when the corset finally loosened, allowing you to get a proper damn breath for once. “You’re as illegitimate as I am. Besides,” you turned and raised a brow, reaching out to unbutton the first few clasps of his shirt. “all monarchy is kind of illegitimate, don’t you think?”

“I love it when we think the same.”

You smiled as you worked, your hands lingering on the smooth material of his shirt as your eyes drank in the smooth, golden skin of his chest. You felt briefly distracted, fingertips reaching out to touch him, just a soft graze, before you sucked in a breath and whirled around.

“I’m running a bath.” You said, cheeks warming all over again, ignoring the feel of his curious eyes on your back.

The water warmed quickly, the large claw-footed tub spacious enough that you could sprawl out completely inside the thing. You added soaps and oils, turning the water milky white, then for fun added a couple of dried petals you saw in your shared bath-cabinet.

“Nik?” You called into the livingroom as you tied your hair up, clipping it into a pile of curls on the top of your head. “Could you get us a nightcap?”

You heard his noise of agreement as you stepped out of your clothes, slipping one dainty foot and then the other into the water. You sighed as you sank down into the warmth, the water reaching just above your chest as you pulled your knees up and wrapped your arms around them.

You heard Nikolai’s feet on the tile as he came into the bathroom, handing you a glass.

“What’s with you and your fancy baths?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the tub with a raised brow. He’d finished unbuttoning his shirt completely and it hung open, a clear view of his ridiculously chiseled top half on display. You ignored the sight and took a long sip of your drink.

“Better than roughing it with a garden hose and a three-in-one body wash like you and your men do in your war camps.”

Your husband laughed and shook his head slightly, agreeing wholeheartedly with you.

“That water hose is dangerous.” He confided, eyes widening comically. “Especially when the water pressure is too high. Could take your skin off.”

You giggled, setting your glass down beside the tub as you propped your elbows on your knees. His eyes wandered over your exposed skin, never lingering for too long anywhere, but you still felt the weight of his stare like an invisible hand.

“How come you’ve never tried to make a move on me?” You asked, brave only because of the drink, and his smirk was only half-hearted.

“I don’t take shots I think I’m going to miss, Y/N.”

Your smile was cautious as you reached out, grasping his hand. And then your expression turned wicked, and he barely had time to set his drink down, already protesting, before you yanked him into the tub. Your laugh was booming and, in Nikolai’s opinion, completely diabolical, as he wiped water from his eyes while he adjusted his back against the opposite side of the tub, his clothes completely soaked.

“You,” he said, jabbing an irritated finger, “are the bane of my existence. I swear on every Saint that you are.”

“You love me.” You teased, grinning fiendishly, but your heart skipped a beat when his expression seemed to soften, his eyeroll too late to save the moment of vulnerability. “You’re not going to miss, Nik. If you try it.” You added, scanning his face, and his smile grew mischievous.

“No?” He asked, voice low, but his eyes darkened when you moved forward, coming over to straddle his lap in the water. Your upper half was completely bare to him, your breath catching when his hands slid around your waist, running soft touches against your skin. “Y/N,” he swallowed roughly. “if we’re still joking, it ends here. Because,” he shook his head, still examining your naked torso. “Saints.”

“Still the bane of your existence?” You asked, voice quiet, as you slipped your hands around his neck and kissed him as soft as you dared.

You both seemed to inhale at the same time, his arms gripping you tighter as your heart dropped into your stomach. He was your friend, your best friend but—you were also married to the man. Surely that entitled some sorts of…physical benefits.

“That courtier doesn’t even know you weren’t lying.” You smiled a bit arrogantly, pulling back to shove his sodden shirt off of him. It hit the tile next to the tub in a wet splat, and both your heads turned at the sound.

“We’ll get it later.” Nikolai promised, and then grasped your face in his hands, kissing you hard. He let out a small noise of pleasure against your mouth and, when his tongue brushed your lips, you let him in.

Your eyes practically rolled back when he grounded you down into him, and suddenly he was way too clothed for your liking. The water sloshed as you pulled away and reached down, yanking at his trousers.

“This would’ve been much more convenient, darling, if you would’ve asked me to get naked before I got in the water.”

“Just—” you huffed in annoyance but finally got them down his hips, and he lifted you up for a moment as he pulled them off, the soaked clothing joining his shirt with another comical splat.

You both laughed, then, at the ridiculousness, but your laughter quickly died in your throat when he scooped you back up into his lap and began kissing your neck, his other hand moving lower, and lower. You gasped when he nipped your skin in the same moment he ran his fingers across you, then slid inside, curling gently as he hit the spot that made your stomach drop.

“You taste oddly floral.” He mused, running his tongue over your skin as he lazily fucked you with his fingers.

“Oh my god, Nik.” You whispered, slipping a hand into his hair to wrap around the blond curls.

“Yes, wife?”

“I want you.”

“Where? Tell me, love.”

You glanced down at him and gave him an annoyed look that faltered the second his fingers curled again, making your breaths heave in your chest. So you leaned into him, kissing him deeply before you spoke.

“I want you inside me.” You said against his mouth, and when you pulled away his eyes were so lust filled that the pang of desire that rushed through you would’ve knocked you on your ass had you been standing.

Nikolai didn’t say a word, only removed his hand and guided you further up over him, and you sank down on him in a smooth motion that made your head spin. He let out a gasping noise and gripped your waist, both of you struggling to breathe through the pleasure.

“You feel—” his voice was so hoarse and low you got chills. “shit.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, and slipped your arms around his neck, rolling your hips against his.

The water wasn’t nearly as warm as your skin as he thrust up, tugging your hips down to meet him every time. Your face pressed against his shoulder, your breathing ragged, and then you squeaked when he stood up suddenly, sending water sloshing onto the floor.

“Nik!” You yelped, even as your legs wrapped around his waist, changing the angle to a new, burning one. He kissed you as he walked, exiting the bathroom, ignoring your giggling protests as the both of you got water all over the floor. “Nikolai stop it you’re soaking the floor.”

“We’re soaking the floor, love. And the couch.”

“The—?” Your words were cut off when he laid you on top of the couch, settling back into you, snapping his hips against your own so hard you gasped, almost knocking your head against the arm of the couch. “Nikolai—”

“Fuck.” He groaned, burying his face in your neck as you took him, every inch of his gorgeous body pressed tight against yours.

You inhaled sharply when the sudden coil of pleasure, building so fast you’d hardly sensed it, snapped, and you let out a cry as he held you tighter to him, not letting you move an inch. He let out a soft moan against your skin and shuddered, the both of you trembling as you came down from the high. And then he was scooping you back up, into his lap, your breathing shallow as your heart raced in your chest.

“So,” Nikolai’s chest rose and fell quickly, his hands sliding up your bare, still wet back as his eyes studied your flushed face. “should I consider this a one time thing, or—”

You cut him off with a bruising kiss, your chest warm with an emotion you couldn’t place, especially when he kissed you back, a hand slipping into your wet hair and undoing the clip that held it up. As it tumbled around your shoulders he smiled softly, running his fingers through the strands.

“You’ve got gorgeous hair, you know that?” He said, tone almost contemplative, even as you blushed. His lips found your own again, soft and sweet, before he lifted you again, this time headed to your bed.

“Oh no,” you protested, grabbing the doorframe as you passed, legs still wrapped tightly around his waist. “we are not getting in bed wet. I refuse.”

“Whatever the lady wants.” Nikolai sighed, setting you down and heading off to get towels.

You watched him go, fighting an internal squeal as you realized exactly what you’d just done. And holy gods the man knew what he was doing when he made love. You grinned involuntarily as your eyes landed on your crown, even though you knew he’d tease you mercilessly if he saw what a girlish mess you’d become after he’d kissed and—

“Y/N?” You almost jumped out of your skin at his sudden words, spinning around to snatch a towel from him. His eyes glimmered with amusement, raising an eyebrow. “Daydreaming about me?”

“Of course not.” You lied, drying off and slipping a nightgown over your head. “I was thinking about chocolate. It’s very delicious.”

“Want me to get you some?” He offered, still amused, and you rolled your eyes.

“No. Now get in bed so I can kiss you again.”

His laughter was cut off by your mouth when you turned the lights off and practically pounced on him, his body warm and perfect against your own. You kissed for a while, just kissing, learning each other all over again as his hands ran over your skin, yours in his hair and grasping the back of his neck.

And the next morning, when a maid came in to bring tea and saw the absolute mess you two had made, water drying on the tiles and your sodden clothes by the still full tub, she blushed profusely and quickly left, not bothering to wait for dismissal.

#shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai x reader #smut #nikolai lantsov smut

2K notes · View notes

sergeantwoods · 7 days

Text

inhale, exhale. inhale, exhale. inhale, exhale. inhale, exhale. in--

the thump of the helo hitting the ground lifted ghost from his thoughts, and he sighed. exhale.

roach and gaz slowly broke apart from their huddling, probably talking about some dumb shit. ghost huffed, turning away from the two.

see, soap was dead. he has been for a while. a while is 8 months. but that's still a while in his books. because he could never let johnny's death go. never.

roach was soaps replacement. but he could never amount to johnny. so as much as he tried, he wouldn't get half of ghost's respect. roach wasn't bad, don't get him wrong. the kid was good at his job, smart, funny. but if he thought he could replace soap, then he was sorely mistaken. nobody can replace soap.

ghost doesn't understand how gaz and price moved on so quickly. their mourning only lasted about, what, a month? two? even so, it was too fast. like they dumped the idea of the bright-eyed sergeant away too quickly. it cut at simon's heart.

a pat on his shoulder had him roused from his thoughts, and he met eyes with price. price nodded at him, and he dipped his head back. swallowing shallowly, he stood up, following behind the captain.

once they reached the snowy ground, price waved nik off, and nik grinned and winked before launching in the air again and leaving. now, it was just the four of them, plus the two rookies that had been assigned this mission.

"alright," price started, coughing. his eyes narrowed, and he gestured at the facility that was barely visible from their view. "we're just going in to grab intel. they have guards, yes, but they are easy to bypass. it's easy. don't make it harder than it has to be." at the collective 'yes sirs!' he recieved, he nodded.

"sergeant valkyrie, lieutenant mirage, go on overwatch. me and the others are going into building A. keep watch for us. don't mess up; this is important." when the sergeant and the lieutenant nodded, he turned to the direction of the building.

"alright. when we get there, i'll tell overwatch where to set up, then we'll go and get that intel. shouldn't take too long." clapping his hands, he continued. "let's get going."

they trudged at least a few miles towards the compound, dropping of overwatch on the way. when they reached the cliff that dropped down to reveal the building, price split them into smaller groups.

it took them a few minutes to get down, grunts of effort being heard through comms. the awkward shuffling from the rookie's side of the comms were picked up, agitating ghost's ears. he was tempted to turn it off, but he decided against it. it would stop later, anyway. they'd get busy and focus.

gritting his teeth, he took out his assault rifle. price gave them a few more directions, before they took off for their missions.

it starts off slow. yeah, it started off slow. but now, here they were, huddled under some block of cement, to hide from the rain of bullets coming their way. price curses under his breath from ghost's side, reloading his gun hurriedly before peeking out from the side of the block and shooting.

ghost looked out from the side as well, shooting enemies one by one with deadly accuracy.

"overwatch, how many more are there?" price hisses, reloading his gun again.

"they just keep coming, sir," valkyrie says, growling under his breath as he snipes some soldier in the swarm of konni's coming after them.

"fuuuck, there wasn't supposed to be this many!"

ghost couldn't help the snort that left him. price side eyes him, then roughly grabs his shoulder.

"we're moving, lieutenant, come on."

nodding, he covered the captain as the sprinted into the building next to them. once they entered, it became eerily silent, save for their shoes squeaking against the sterile marbled floor. it looked like a part of an airport, almost, minus all the obviously military things lying around.

even when price lowered his gun, ghost kept his up. they couldn't afford to be caught off guard.

"simon. there isn't anyone in here."

flicking his eyes to price, he slowly lowers the gun. if price told him to lower the gun only for them to get --

he lets out a surprised sound as something -- no, someone -- tackles him to the ground. his head hits the ground first, and the all-too-familiar feeling of the barrel of a gun being pressed to the back of neck is present before he hears price letting out a shout and barreling towards the figure on top of him to the ground.

ghost groans, head spinning. he hears the sounds of price and the russian tussling besides him, but he can't seem to care over the pain in his head.

it takes a few seconds to finally come too, but when he does, he realizes that price is being attacked. and suddenly his senses are in overdrive, and he sweeps the attacker of their feet and onto the ground. their gun goes flying, and they land on their back with a pained grunt. he goes to stand over them. and now he gets to see their face.

his heart drops.

a familiar face. it isn't supposed to be familiar -- the eyes. it's fucking green, not blue. and the muzzle. and the fluffed out, ruffled mohawk. it isn't johnny. but it is? johnny wouldn't betray them. and he wouldn't do... whatever this is. wouldn't agree to it.

soap snarls from his position on the floor, eyes narrowed and staring apoplectically up at ghost. his breaths were coming out in short, angry puffs, the sound strange from the muzzle.

"johnny?"

nothing in his face changes. no pause, no hesitation, no sadness, no recognition. ghost face screws up under the mask in concern. what the hell happened to him?

price shakily gets up beside him, staring down at soap. his face was white as a sheet, and he whispers out a hoarse, "soap?"

soap grips ghosts ankles, writhing on the floor, trying to flip him over. he doesn't move, stuck gawking at soap.

"what did they do to you?" he murmurs out; half to himself and half to soap.

the only response he gets is a strangled "fuck you," from the man himself, still trying to flip ghost over.

price crouches on the ground, a pained expression on his face. he looks back up at ghost, eyes tired.

"what the hell should we do with him?"

"don't think he knows who we are. i said his name, no sign of recognition. doesn't look like he's willing to communicate, either. and you're the captain. you decide."

price sighs, rubbing his forehead as he thinks.

"well, either we just leave him here, cuff him to a bar." he pauses, seeing ghosts brow furrow.

"bu-- "

"and i know that's not an option anyone would like," he cuts ghost off, then continues with an exhale. "or we could sedate him and bring him back with us, and ask questions when we get back. or we could cuff him and bring him back. which one is safer?"

"unless you want to have a sparring match on the helo, i don't recommend cuffs. sedate seems safer, the only good option. i think gaz would try and murder us if we left soap here, too. you got a tranquilizer?"

price nodded. "yeah. can you hold him?"

"of course."

already crouching, price moved closer to soap, taking out a kit with the needle in it. the now green-eyed man's eyes widened, and he jerked away from price. ghost crouches down too, holding soap down. using one hand, he gently combs his fingers through his mohawk.

soaps eyes snap to ghosts; confusion lacing the sickly green. but he's staring up ghost, confusion turning into... fascination? interest? and he's certainly not paying attention when price winces and gets closer. he sticks the needle in the side of his neck when he gets close enough, and ghost grip on soap immediately tightens.

johnny immediately lurches away, crying out in surprise, and thrashing around. it only takes a few moments for the movements to become sluggish, and before they know it, soap is completely asleep.

it's quiet in the building. except for the loud breathing from soaps muzzle.

prices hand reaches to his comms. he clicks it on, voice low and gravelly as he speaks into it.

"well. gaz, guess who we found?"

HEEEEEEEELP THAT WAS SO LAZY IM SOBBING 😭

i swear i can write better thn that -- that was like. only 50% energy. i rushed this in an hour. yes, an hour. that's not really rushing, but i got very distracted a couple times.

well, heres my serving of brainwashed soap for the night. don't expect anything from me for like. another month or two .😭i mean, the medieval fic is gonna kick off sometime, so expect that

i very quickly proofread this, so if there was typos jus,,. ignore that please 🙏

here u go, @spottlessspectre

161 notes · View notes

inlovewithfictionalmen7 · 11 months

Note

could i get a nikki sixx angst where reader thinks he’s cheating on her and they have a big fight but it ends up in fluff🙏🙏

thank you for requesting!! i hope you like it and its what you were looking for.

Misunderstanding

Nikki sixx x reader

Glancing at the clock on the wall for probably the 20th time since 11:30 pm, when Nixxi said he'd be home. It was no almost two in the morning. For the past few weeks nikki´s been getting home later and later from the times he says, he doesn't act like the guy y/n fell in love with.

A thought crosses y/n´s mind as she sits on the couch waiting for Nikki to come home. What if he's out with another girl? What if hes fucking another girl right now? What-what if he doesn't love me anymore? y/n thought to herself. She's never let the thought of Nikki cheating cross her mind before but with how he's been acting she can't help it.

She's so deep in her thought that she didn't hear the front door open and her boyfriend stumble in. Nikki stopped when she saw someone in the corner of his eye. Looking over at his girlfriend he walks over to her “hey babe why are you still up” he says slurring some of his words. The sudden voice behind y/n made her jump and look up at the obviously drunk man. “I was waiting for my boyfriend who said he'd be home almost three and a half hours ago.” as the words leave her mouth nikki rolls his eyes. “I was out and lost track of time no big deal” he says throwing his arms up.

“No big deal?!” y/n says rasing her voice “Nikki the past few weeks youve been acting diffrent, not coming home untill almost three in the fucking morning, probably out fucking some random bimbo, while im here waiting for you to come home so i know youre fucking safe!” she says standing up, looking at her boyfriend who was making an extremely confused face. “Cheating? Are you serious y/n?!” he says glaring at her. “When have I ever made it so you wouldn't trust me? Huh?” nikki says getting in her face

“Oh i don't know, not telling me where you've been, being distant, not having time for me anymore because if you're not doing drugs you're out doing god knows what!” y/n yells at nikki causing him to turn around, pick up a bottle of jack that he had left laying around one day and throw it across the room making it shatter. “y/n ive never even fucking thought about cheating on you, but you know what. Maybe I will if you already think I am” he says, looking her in the eyes.

y/n´s eyes well up with tears but before she could say anything nikki starts “oh now you're crying. Typical” rolling his eyes he goes up stairs hearing her crying behind him. Once he's upstairs and in their room, he goes into his closet and shoots up. Reality of everything that happened tonight is sinking in. Nikki wasnt out with another girl, no other girl could even compare to his y/n, and to know that she thinks that low of him hurts a lot.

While nikki is upstairs, y/n is down stairs looking at the shattered glass with teary eyes. After almost ten minutes she decided to clean up the glass carefully. Once she's all done she slowly makes her way upstairs. When she entered the room she already knew nikkis in the closet, so she walked over, opened the door and saw Nikki lying on the ground, a needle laying next to him. Her eyes start tearing up again as she picks the needle up putting it into the trash before turning her attention to nikki

“Nik? Wake up” she says rubbing his face a little until his eyes open looking at her in a daze, a big frown makes its way to his face when he remembers what happened “baby?” he asks sadly “come on nikki let's get you in bed” y/n says while trying to pull him up. “I'm so sorry y/n, i-i've never cheated on you i promise” nikki says turning to face her, putting his hands on her shoulders “please believe me sweetheart” he begs the woman in front of him. y/n smiles and leads him to the bed, and pushing him to lay down “well talk about this in the morning nikki, you need to sleep right now”

As she gets into bed next to him he lays his head on her chest. “I love you y/n, more than anything in the world. When I'm out I'm just with Tommy and the guys drinking i promise” he slurs from both the drugs and tiredness. y/n kisses him forehead before whispering “i love you too nikki, now get some sleep”

The last thing she heard before he passed out was a mumbled ‘im sorry’

#nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx imagines #the dirt imagine #motley crue #motley crue x y/n #motley crue imagine #nikki sixx imagine #nikki sixx angst

222 notes · View notes

saintmurd0ck · 2 years

Note

congrats rhi!!! well deserved 👏🏼💖

🗽 - matt and frank are on the brain. what if you tried going on a date with them?? and they're making each other jealous, which eventually leads to all three of you breaking the bed in matt's apartment 👀

nik baby, thank you so much for this ask. i am so sorry it took so long, BUT i needed it to be absolutely perfect, and i think ive done it. it was absolute perfection, a joy to work on, and clearly you know me so well because this is one of my favourite things to write EVER and i will die on this hill!!!! i love you and thank you for your incredible request <3

winner's streak | frank castle x f!reader x matt murdock

masterlist

summary: you've had a little thing for your neighbours for the longest time. what's the worst that can happen when you ask them both on a date and turn it into a little friendly competition?

warnings: matt & frank roommate au, voyeurism/public exhibition, couple blind jokes, fingering, oral m and f receiving, unprotected p in v, spanking, choking, etc bruh there's so many i cant

THIS IS A LONG ASS FIC (9K WORDS DONT KILL ME) BUT PLEASE ENJOY AND REBLOGS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED

Your groan reverberates against the iron door, echoing into the empty space of the stairwell.

ROOFTOP CLOSED, the paper sign reads, FOR SCHEDULED MAINTENANCE.

It’s impossible for your eyes to roll any further back. Of all days this rooftop is closed, why does it have to be today?

The notice scrunches in your hand as you pull it free from the door, shoving it down into your bag. You’re already annoyed about making the trek up to the rooftop, but thankfully it’s a quick trip back downstairs, and you’re outside on the fire escape in no time. The balmy afternoon wind flushes hot against your face, thin metal railing digging into your forearms as you lean forward, but your chest falls gracefully with the deep exhale that carries with it any negativity.

You’re grateful for the quiet. Besides the occasional siren, you’re high enough that you can barely hear the commotion of the streets – a rarity in this city – and apart from your noisy neighbours to the left, it’s pretty tranquil here.

Keeping an ear out for anyone disturbing your peace, you scout the apartments to either side of you, listening to the ambient sounds and whatever the street below has to offer. Nothing today; nothing except for the brush of wind rustling the trees and dislodging those clumsily pinned flyers you hate. Good.

With no one home around you, and weather almost too perfect for tanning, your hand snakes up your spine to where the strings of your bikini top lay, tied in a careless knot that comes undone in one tug. The summer heat hits your bare chest with a ferocity that surprises you, but you close your eyes and tip your head back, allowing the sun’s warmth to wash over your face and cascade down your body.

But then, it shoots straight at you; a whistling arrow that lodges itself into the centre of your chest. It’s the sound of a breath catching; an inhale so sharp you might mistake it for a hiss. Your head whips to the side.

“Frank,” you seethe, hands flying up to where you’re exposed.

He croaks out your name as your eyes level into his, bewildered stare parting his mouth in an ‘o’. He doesn’t know where to look as you muster a fake smile, tilting your head to the side so saccharinely you feel him cave inwards.

Frank’s body is still square to yours as he looks up to the sky. “Nice uh… sunny day, right?”

You scoff, arms tightening around your chest. “Cut the shit, Frank. Were you spying on me?”

His nostrils flare as he grips his coffee mug, knuckles turning white to the point where you think it’s going to break.

“Well?” you deadpan, a muscle twitching in your jaw.

He sputters at your question, and then it dawns on you.

He’s lost for words.

Your lips curl into a smile. First of all, you’re not really mad per se, you just like seeing him squirm. Secondly, Frank fucking Castle, your utterly menacing, 6 foot, ‘women call me daddy and I benchpress 400 lbs’ neighbour is lost for words. He’s stumbling over every syllable, and it’s like you have him by the balls.

Then again, maybe you just did.

You’ve seen the way he looks at you, not-so-slick with the little half-glances he shoots your way, or how his lips purse when he sees you in the hallway, the vein in his neck popping as an existing string of unholy thoughts undeniably course through his head. He’s always rushing to help you with something, whether it’s to carry your groceries, or to repair anything broken in your apartment.

You never complain, of course. With the way he treats you like a queen, and gets away looking like that? Yeah, you can’t fault his behaviour.

And that was just Frank’s side of things. His polar opposite, puppy-eyed roommate Matt has it just as bad for you, but Matt… oh, Matt… he makes you throb in ways you don’t understand. You’re the kind of girl who will never let a man tell you what to do, but Matt? He makes you want to get on your knees, submit yourself to him, devote yourself whole.

Matt’s not a grand gesture kind of guy as much as Frank is; he’s more of a smooth talker, knowing exactly when and how to lay on the charm. In fact, it’s not just that; he intrigues you. You’re observant – more than you give yourself credit for – and you notice the unexplainable, the somewhat impossible. It’s the bruised knuckles that so often leave his hands stained crimson, the cane that’s nowhere to be seen, the hushed phone calls and (to your displeasure), kiss-bitten lips.

You know a body as cut as his doesn’t come from walking to the office every day.

If you go out on your fire escape at just the right time, and tip your head in just the right direction, you can hear them talking about you. You’ve never admitted it out loud, but your heart flutters with the way Frank describes you to Matt, in what you’re wearing that day, or when he says those mundane things like, ‘she bought the same toothpaste as us!’

Alright, fine. You’ll admit it.

You think about them. A lot.

And in more ways than one.

You’ve indulged in their words, in their actions, in the little things they do that makes your skin hot and your back arch. It’s always variations of the same forbidden fantasy that creep into your mind, images that become more visceral as your fingers slip beyond the thin material of your soaked panties.

And in this fantasy, there's both of them, working you, stuffing you… until you can’t handle anymore, until you cry out both their names as you fall apart.

The worst bit? With time, your desire for them — or, whatever the hell you want to call it — has only grown stronger. It used to be that you’d run into them in the corridor, exchange a few ordinary greetings, maybe flash a pearly smile, and leave as they melt into man-sized puddles. Now if you run into each other, you all leave flustered, fumbling for the locks on your paint-chipped doors, desperately trying to conceal whatever indulgent thoughts you all harbour in your minds.

“You okay?” Frank’s gruff voice snaps you back down to earth.

You shake your head as you snap awake, your doe-eyes meeting his. “Hmm?”

He blushes, fingers straining against his coffee mug. “You just started starin’ off in the distance…”

You offer him a tight-lipped smile as your chest rises with a rapid breath, doing your best to ignore the second pulse that’s appeared in between your legs.

You really had to daydream at the right time, huh?

“Look,” he coughs, diverting his gaze, again, “M’sorry for uh… interruptin’ your–”

The graphic image of his body in yours while Matt’s underneath clouds your vision, and it turns your knees to jelly. “I-it’s fine.”

You spin on your heels, intent on dropping one of your arms to reach for the side door, but you conceive an idea.

“Hey Frank?”

“Yeah?”

You turn to face him. “Let’s go out tonight. You know that wine bar between 10th and 11th?”

He musses a hand through his hair, eyebrows raising as he nods. “Really?”

“What,” you pout, “you don’t wanna?”

A wry smile creeps across your face as he straightens his spine, the intensity of your stare a little too much for him as his eyes flick away, throat bobbing as he shifts in his stance, almost uncomfortably.

Oh.

You stifle a gasp, zoning in on the faint outline of him, straining against his jeans.

Pupils blown and lips pursed, he catches you staring, watching intently as your tongue snakes out to wet your lips. The vein in his neck is as prominent as ever as his eyes wander over your body, at your bikini bottoms that leave almost nothing to the imagination, at your half-naked self standing there in his presence.

An idea crosses your mind. An insanely, obscene, insane idea, but oh, you’re devious. Frank squeezes his coffee mug tighter, eyes pulsating as the corners of your mouth upturn into a cheeky grin…

And your hands drop from your chest.

All you hear is the soft murmur of a holy shit, the ceramic mug shattering apart in his hands, and the sound of your laugh echoing in the wind, carrying itself across the rooftops.

“I’ll see you tonight at 7, Frank.”

Matt catches you in the hallway later that day as you’re running errands, heartbeat thundering in your ears as he walks himself into your shoulder. He murmurs a quick ‘sorry’, straightening his suit jacket, preparing to continue his walk ahead.

“It’s me, Matt!” you call out, biting your lips he turns, his composure cracking with an infectious chuckle and a smile that crinkles his eyes.

He motions to his cane, shrugging his shoulders. “Whoops.”

Rolling your eyes, you push off your heels, inching closer to him, his voice smooth in your ears. “How was your day?”

You focus on a small piece of white lint sitting awkwardly on Matt’s lapel as he shifts his weight onto one foot, running your tongue over your teeth as you contemplate whether or not to flick it off.

“Actually,” you start, heat singeing the back of your neck as Frank pops into your mind, “you know what? It wasn’t that bad. How was yours?”

Matt chuckles half-heartedly, nodding. “That’s uh, that’s great to hear. Mine was… well, we received a hundred rhubarb pies as payment today. S’for a client we helped a while back.”

He leans his head in towards your giggle, hand flying up to loosen his tie. “Alright, I’m exaggerating,” – he tips his head to the side – “I’m told there were… four, at best, but Foggy’s acting like we have that many.”

A moment of silence passes between you, nothing but a gust of warm wind filling the negative space. Your breath picks up as your mind races. Say something. Anything.

A look of uncertainty flashes across Matt’s face as he purses his lips, hand coming up to brush against his stubble. “Look, I’ve– I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while, but–”

“For a while?” you interject, raising your eyebrows.

“Yeah, a while,” – he rounds his shoulders, both hands gripping his cane – “d’ya wanna get a drink somewhere?”

“Are you asking me on a date, Matthew?”

He laughs, cheeks reddening at your question. “Only if that’s fine with you.”

“Hang on a second, how long exactly have you been thinking about this?”

Flustered, Matt pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, dimples showing as he tries to hide his sheepish smile. “A while.”

“Stop me when I get close.”

He grins from ear-to-ear.

“One month?” you ask.

“No.”

You feign surprise. “Three months?”

“Nope.”

Matt laughs as you gasp, loudly. Too loudly. “A year.”

“Longer than that, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

The nickname pools in your thighs, heating the tips of your ears, forcing you to bite back a moan.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” Matt asks, nudging your foot with his cane.

What about Frank?

The memory of the obvious tent in Frank’s jeans tugs on the knot building behind your stomach.

“I– well, I have the apartment to myself tonight, so I could cook. For you,” Matt says, voice lined with anticipation.

“Huh,” you look up, swallowing a laugh. “Frank isn’t home tonight?”

Matt scrunches his face. “Uh… no. He said he had something on. I figured I might as well take advantage of the quiet.”

In an instant, a thought blossoms in your mind. It’s devious, it is so goddamn devious, but oh…

So are you.

You step forwards, breath coming out a little shaky as the heat from his body reflects onto yours. Reaching a hand up to his lapel, you brush off the lint you were eyeing earlier, indulging in the earnest grunt that falls from Matt’s lips.

“7 PM,” you whisper in his ear. “Meet me at the wine bar between 10th and 11th.”

He presses your hand against his collarbone, holding it steady as he tilts his head downwards. You’re shuddering at his touch, at the warmth and tingles it shoots through your veins, at the unexpected coarseness of his hands.

“It’s a date,” he confirms, letting go of your hand, the dimples in his grin remaining as he unlocks the door to his apartment.

The wine bar is intimate; only the sounds of hushed whispers and the clinking of glasses keeping you company. You tap your fingers against the lacquered wooden table, sucking in your cheeks as you look at the time. 7.15 PM. You’re a little annoyed, not just at the fact that they’re late, but at the straps of your sundress, thin and finicky things sliding off your shoulders with even the tiniest of movements. A sigh escapes your lips, condensation blooming across the wineglass in front of your face. Maybe they figured you’d double booked them, asked them to the same venue and on the same date without saying much more. So much for your devious little plan, huh?

You pick at your nails, wine crisp on your tastebuds, each subsequent sip making you dizzy, but slowly taking the edge off. Who cares if they don’t show up? You need a night out anyway.

As if on cue, the door opens, catching on the little silver doorbell, and Frank steps inside, a bouquet of flowers in hand. Your breath hitches in your throat as you take him in. He’s somehow even more ruggedly handsome tonight, sharp jawline perfectly illuminated by the warm lighting.

He apologises to you profusely, pulling you in for a tight hug, the contact from the muscles flexing under his thin shirt heating your skin. He motions to the bartender for a glass of whatever you’re having, setting the flowers down beside you.

He rests his forearms on the table, dark eyes peering into yours. “Will you excuse my tardiness, pretty girl?”

Oh, my fuck. What the hell is it with you and nicknames?

‘Pretty girl’ jolts you upright with a throb, and it takes every single ounce of strength you possess not to just uproot him by the collar and have him right then and there. Unfortunately, your reaction is poorly masked, and you’re forced to watch as Frank’s knowing smile grows, stretching larger as the bartender brings him his drink.

“Cheers,” he says, lifting his glass to yours, tongue peeking out to wet his lips, eyes moving lazily up and down your torso.

Frank leans back in the booth as he takes a sip, his shirt riding up to expose the smallest sliver of skin. “So, uh, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the reason for,” – he waves his hands around – “all this?”

You swallow what’s left of your wine, pressing your lips together. What were you supposed to say, that you were sick of the sexual tension and all you wanted was to have fun with Frank and his equally sexy roommate?

You say something else instead. “I like being spontaneous, Frank.”

He cocks his head to the side, raising his eyebrows. “S’that so?”

You let out a sharp laugh. “I’m sick of doing the same thing all the time, and I need a little change in scenery.”

Frank shuffles towards you, muscles rippling under his long-sleeved shirt. “And you think I can do that for ‘ya?”

A half-smirk tugs on the corners of your lips as your fingers start to dance to where his hands are resting on the table…

But you jerk your hand back, ears pricking up at the sound of the door swinging open and slamming against the wooden frame, followed by a loud ‘sorry’ offered to whoever’s tending the bar.

Your stomach turns as the bartender guides Matt to your table at your signal.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Still think this is a good idea?

You’re not sure where to look as Frank’s sour expression shoots daggers straight at you, moving over hesitantly to make room for Matt in the booth.

Matt’s cold shoulder towards Frank is way too obvious as he sits down, setting his neatly folded cane on the table.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he swallows, “I had something I had to… take care of. But I came here as soon as I could.”

You glance down, flinching at the scabs across his knuckles, at the deep purple bruise on his cheek marring his features. There it is again, that thing about him you can’t quite figure out.

“Yeah, okay, the fuck is this?” Frank turns to you, quizzical look bordering on anger.

“I’m sorry, I thought this was a date,” – Matt chimes in, wagging his finger at you – “between the two of us”.

“She asked me here, Red,” Frank whips his head around, shoulders tensing.

Matt scoffs, throwing his head back. “You? She asked you.”

Frank grits his teeth, fists clenching tightly together. “Shut the hell up. At least I had the decency to get the lady flowers.”

Matt laughs scornfully. “Oh yeah Castle, that’s so original of you.”

“We needa take this outside, Red?”

The clink of three whiskey glasses being set down on your table is loud enough to collapse their argument.

The server clears their throat. “Excuse me. Courtesy of that man over there,” — they pause, pointing — “if you keep it down.”

You thank the server, flashing an apologetic smile at the man in the corner, and pull a glass towards you, tipping it straight into your mouth. Frank does the same, waving at the bar for three more, while Matt sips his furtively, licking his lips before he swallows.

“I can explain,” you start, grateful for the warmth of the whiskey spreading through your veins.

Your face grows hot as Matt and Frank sit back in the booth, training their attention on you. With your heart thundering in your chest, the alcohol rushes to your head, hitting you with that little bit of confidence you need.

You lean forwards on the table, cocking your head to the side. “Let’s not sugarcoat this, alright?”

Frank shoots a sideways glance at Matt.

“You two think you’re so slick with your looks, and comments and… sink fixing,” you say, fingers curling into fists, “but the truth is, you don’t hide it well. At all.”

Matt presses his lips together as he slides his glasses up the bridge of his nose, while Frank takes a shallow breath.

Your forearms are now completely on the wood as you inch closer. “If you want me, you can just say so.”

The space between the three of you suddenly goes dead quiet; so quiet it’s as if time has fallen away, leaving you in your own little bubble.

“It’s lucky,” you pause, “that I have an affinity for you both. And I thought maybe… just maybe, we could have a little fun together.” You turn your head, making sure Frank catches the mischievous glint in your eyes.

You’re so far forwards now that your head is in between theirs, and you bring your hands up to their cheeks, pushing them closer to you. With their heads almost touching, and your lips one breath away from their ears, you feel the shudder running through their spines reverberate into your body. “Maybe we can make it a little interesting, hmm? Only if you’re up for it,” you wink.

Matt’s smirk peaks your nipples, spurring you to lower your voice, words dripping like honey. “Let’s just say the person who makes me cum the most tonight can take me on a real date.”

To his credit, Matt keeps his cool, merely interlacing his hands together on the table, sucking his cheeks in. Frank curses under his breath, gaze narrowing as he studies you, contemplating your proposition.

Matt is the first to speak, his voice dipping an octave. “Let’s go.”

Frank jerks his head in Matt’s direction, eyes wide. “Huh?”

Matt’s tone is insistent now. “Let’s get outta here.”

“Fuck, Red,” Frank whispers, hand coming up to stroke his chin, as the server sets three more whiskeys down on the table.

You exchange a glance with Frank before you throw back the liquid, head shaking as it burns the back of your throat. They follow suit, wasting no time at all, and while Frank leaves a generous tip at the table, you make a beeline for the door.

The cab is way too small for the three of you, but you squeeze into the middle seat anyway, biting back a wicked grin as Matt leans forward to give the driver his address.

There’s not a lot of space – well, not when you’re caught between two individuals with the muscle mass of an entire Planet Fitness combined – but you try to relax, heart racing as your body presses up against theirs. Something clenches in your jaw as you shuffle in the seat, the paper-wrapped bouquet of flowers crinkling by your feet. You’re not sure where to put your hands, but they come to settle at the edge of your sundress, where it’s ridden up almost beyond the point of modesty.

A thick finger sweeps against the back of your neck, catching you off-guard. The half-gasp half-cough you let out is louder than intended, and it draws the attention of the cab driver, who looks at you from his rearview mirror.

“Everything okay, miss?” he asks, concerned.

You will yourself to snap out of it, out of that lust-filled daze, squeezing your legs together as the throbbing in between your thighs intensifies.

“Yes,” you gulp. “Everything’s fine, thank you.”

Frank waits until the driver flicks his gaze back to the road ahead. “Didn’t mean to scare ‘ya, sweetheart. You want me to stop?”

You purse your lips. “No.”

He takes his hand away from your neck and hovers over the patch of skin your sundress did cover. He drags the tips of his fingers up your thigh, stopping just high enough to hear the tremble in your breath, shooting you a half-smirk as you suck your cheeks in.

“Frank.” Matt’s tone is stern as he tilts his chin upwards, nostrils flaring with his rising temper. “I thought we agreed to wait.”

Frank’s laugh is mirthlessly low. “Who said that, Red?”

You stare at your knee, at the big hand that’s found its mark. You’ve never noticed how gorgeous Frank’s hands are, the way he keeps his fingernails neatly trimmed, forked veins on the topside pulsating as he grips tighter, the light pink striations of healed scars running over his knuckles. And those fingers… God, if his fingers are that thick already, what would his–

You bite down on your lip, hard, as Frank pulls your knee towards him, spreading you apart in the seat. Fuck. Every nerve in your body is on fire as he lifts your hand up to his mouth, static electricity buzzing as his lips graze over your knuckles.

While Frank’s other hand slides under your dress, up to where the thin waistband of your panties sit, Matt leans over, as if to fix his seatbelt. Your eyes lull back in your head as he creeps forward instead, fingers skimming the inside of your thigh, their combined actions threatening to elicit a moan from your lips.

You’re not in control anymore.

Actually, you haven’t been in control for ages. It takes all of your willpower – well, what’s left of it – to not cry out, to not sit as far back as possible and let them…

“That’ll be $29.30,” the driver announces, brakes screeching as he pulls up outside your apartment building.

“Fuck!” you curse under your breath, reaching for your purse as you pull down your dress.

Matt grabs your wrist, locking it in place as he takes out his wallet, gliding one finger along the top of the bills.

“I think this is a 50… Frank, a little help please?” Frank grunts in agreement as Matt hands the bill to the driver. “Keep the change.”

You don’t care that you flash Frank a little as he helps you out, smirking as you watch his chest tighten at the little scrap of fabric barely covering you, clenching the bouquet of flowers in his other hand. You yelp as he pulls you out towards him, flush against the hard muscle of his chest.

His gaze is piercing as he tips your chin upwards, irises paper thin around blown pupils. “You sure you know what you’re gettin’ into, pretty girl?”

You swat his hand away. “Oh Frank, I’m not quite sure you’re ready for me.”

“What, you think I can’t handle you or somethin’?”

He trains his eyes on your mouth as it shifts into a wry smile, your tongue darting out to lick your lips in one smooth motion. Frank opens his mouth to retort, to say something with the intention of buckling your knees, but Matt walks up to you with perfect timing, offering you his arm.

“Walk with me?”

Frank groans, throwing his head back. “How many times do I have to tell ‘ya, Red? You can’t keep using that trick. What happens the day someone says no, huh? Can’t walk by yourself?”

A hearty laugh bubbles from Matt’s chest. “First of all, go to hell. Secondly,” – his voice drops to a whisper – “no one’s gonna say no to a blind man.”

He turns to you, arm still on offer. “Right, sweetheart?”

You savour the priceless look on Frank’s face as you take Matt’s arm, linking it in yours. “Absolutely, Matthew.”

The walk upstairs to their apartment is excruciatingly slow; every step laced with the type of tension that sits thickly in the air. Arm still in tow with Matt’s, Frank trails behind the two of you, the thud of his boots against the wood echoing loudly in the stairway. You can feel him staring at you, at the way your dress flutters with each step upwards, the little glimpses of your ass making his mouth go dry.

Matt stops on the next landing, jerking your arm to do the same. Wordlessly, he drops his cane to the ground, unlinking his arm, tilting his chin upwards as if to settle his phantom gaze on you.

His lips are on yours before you can say anything, hands dropping to your waist, inching you towards the wall until he has you pinned. You mewl as he slips the straps of your dress off your shoulders, trailing his kisses down your neck, pressing himself into you.

“If there’s anything you’re uncomfortable with,” – he rasps, nipping a sensitive spot on your neck – “you tell us, okay?”

He smirks against your mouth as you tell him ‘yes’, dragging the tips of his fingers from your collarbone down your arm.

But the kiss is over as quickly as it started.

“Hey, hey, hey, what the fuck, Red?” Frank spits, yanking Matt back by the collar.

“Fuck you, Frank,” Matt retorts, stepping forward as his hands tighten into fists.

You stifle a giggle, trying your best not to show your amusement at the flowers that undercut Frank’s tone.

Frank looks at you, nostrils flaring at the way Matt’s messed up your hair. “Darlin’, it’s a fair competition, yeah?”

Matt interjects as you start to agree. “Alright, Castle, then tell me how much fun you had before I got there. You had a head start.”

Frank throws his hands up in the air, shaking his head. “For God’s sake Red, I didn’t ask for you to be late–”

Matt presses his lips together, cupping his hands over his face, the exasperation in his voice imminent. “I had things to do, Frank, I–”

You clear your throat. “Why don’t you two save this for when we’re upstairs, huh?”

They turn their heads in your direction, nodding.

The two remaining flights of stairs disappear under your feet in a matter of seconds.

You swear you hear a crack as Frank bursts into the apartment, ushering you in as he scrambles to kick the front door closed. Matt lets out a little laugh as you drag him inside, stomach twisting as he yanks your hand, spinning you towards him. His lips find yours in an instant as he shrugs his suit jacket off, hands coming up to cup your jaw.

Bouquet of flowers still in hand, Frank rushes to find a vase, faucet creaking as he waits for it to fill up.

“Hey!” he yells out, “Better not start anything without me!”

Matt breaks away from your kiss to undo his tie, whipping his head towards Frank in the kitchen. “Like you waited in the cab?”

He groans into your mouth as your tongue swipes along his bottom lip, teeth gently clashing together as he steadies his hands on your face.

“Frank?!” Matt calls, pulling off his glasses.

“Yeah?”

“Here.” Matt throws his glasses at Frank, who catches them in one hand, setting them onto the counter with a soft click.

As his mouth meets yours again, Matt’s hands begin to wander. As his thumbs brush over your nipples, he dances his fingers upwards, lingering for a moment on the hollow of your throat, coaxing a soft gasp from you as he uses a knuckle to trace its outline.

His lips skirt your collarbone as he lifts your dress up, grunting as he kneads your ass, grinding his hard cock into your leg. He continues moving his hands up to where your panties sit on your hips, picking at the waistband, listening intently for the snap of the elastic against your skin as he lets go.

There it is again, that fucking smirk.

“Matt,” you exhale sharply, nipping at his earlobe as he snaps your waistband once again. “Matt…”

“God, I love it when you say my name like that,” he groans, tugging your panties down your thighs.

He presses closer to you, wedging his hand under your dress, tracing a finger up your slick folds. You’re squirming in place, chest heaving as he puts pressure on your clit, circling it in a way that pulls on the knot building behind your stomach.

You make a sound you’ve never heard before as Frank comes up behind you, thick hands gripping your waist, holding you in place, steadying you for something you’ve only ever fantasised about.

Matt sinks his fingers into you, thumb still moving over your clit, brushing up against that spot that makes you see stars.

“Attagirl,” Frank whispers, as you tip your head back into his shoulder, vision going blurry at the way Matt curls his fingers inside you.

You’re a mess, dripping all over his hand, keening into his touch.

Frank’s voice is husky in your ear. “Look up at – that’s right, baby, look up at me.”

You stare into Frank’s eyes, mouth parted in a perfect ‘o’ as Matt growls, thumb so slick with your arousal that he glides over your clit with ease. All you manage to get out is ‘mmhm’ before Frank brings his fingers to your lips, commanding you to ‘suck’.

Frank purses his lips, throat bobbing as you seal your mouth around his fingers, bucking against Matt’s touch, eyes rolling back as he hits the back of your throat, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“That’s right, darlin’,” Frank rasps, watching the uneven rise and fall of your chest, the telltale sign of your impending release.

Your cry is muffled as your orgasm rips through your body, flooding Matt’s hand, his own slacks staining with his leaking precum. There’s a string of spit clinging to Frank as he slides his fingers out from your mouth with a pop, but it doesn’t phase him; not one bit. In fact, he tips his head down to look at you like a trophy, something like a mix of awe and desire manifesting in his darkened gaze.

You wobble as Matt and Frank step away from you, slipping your dress off as you right your balance on the couch behind, bracing your wrists on the soft leather.

But there’s no rest for the wicked, and Frank beckons you towards him as he pulls his shirt off, leaving it in a heap on the floor. He sweeps you in for a kiss, full lips insistent against yours. He’s a little rougher than Matt, but somehow, his mouth is more forgiving, warm and soft as it melds to yours. You break the kiss, stepping back for a second to look him up and down, taking in as much detail as possible.

“Holy hell,” you say, Frank’s responding expression evidence that you actually said that out loud, and not in your head.

He looks at the floor, shyly messing a hand through his hair. “S’there uh… something you like?”

“Something I like?!” you exclaim, ogling him.

“Shut up, Frank. How the– Oh my God, Matt, get over here,” you command, motioning Frank to come up behind you.

You waste no time in unbuttoning Matt’s shirt, working your way from top to bottom. Unlike Frank and his efforts to woo you by walking around shirtless, you’ve never seen Matt without clothes on. He’s always in something, to your disdain…

Until now.

A gasp escapes your lips – partly from the way Frank’s leaving marks all over your neck – at Matt’s tanned skin underneath, at what he’s been hiding this entire time. You run your hand over the vast expanse of him, jaw dropping as he flexes underneath your hand, rigid muscle sending heat to your core. Your heart stills at the scars flecking his torso, some well healed, some angry and red as if they’re new.

Frank skirts his fingers over your nipples, pulling from you the tiniest whimper.

“Uh…” Matt starts, vacant eyes flicking upwards. “I can explain–”

Your voice hushes to a whisper. “Don’t worry about it, Matty, j-just… just c’mere, okay?”

The sound of Frank’s belt being unbuckled makes your breath catch in your throat, the clinking of metal ringing faintly in your ears as your fingers graze the deep vee lines on Matt’s hips. You watch as Matt sucks his cheeks in, cock twitching against the fabric of his slacks as you hook yourself into his waistband, pulling him closer to you by his belt.

Your mouth melts against his before you turn to Frank, who you know is desperate for attention from the way his arousal presses hard into your back. His tongue slips against yours, hand curving your jaw, tracing the contours of your face before it settles on your breast, drawing out a stifled moan as he rolls your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

“Alright Red,” Frank pants into your mouth, “I’m done being nice.”

Matt laughs scornfully as he kisses your neck hungrily, reaching around to your aching cunt once more.

Frank grunts as you palm him over his underwear, throwing his head back at the sensitivity of your touch. “Baby, did he make you cum good?”

You gulp, nodding as Frank smacks Matt’s hand away, rough fingers taking residence on your clit. “Yeah, Frank.”

He flashes you a cheeky grin. “Really? ‘Cause that was altar boy’s first time touchin’ a pussy.”

Matt puffs his chest out, striding forward. “Oh, you–”

Frank offers Matt nothing but a smug laugh as he picks you up over his shoulder, fingers digging into your waist as he carries you to the couch like you weigh nothing. Goosebumps erupt all over you as the cool leather makes contact with your skin, then as Frank knocks your knees apart with the push of a hand. A chill runs down your spine as you bare yourself to them, and although you know Matt can’t see you spread out like you want him to, you get the idea he knows exactly what’s going on; maybe the scent of your heightened arousal is easier for him to pick up.

“I haven’t let you off the hook, Castle,” Matt snarls. “You and me? After this we’re gonna settle it our way, yeah?”

“If it makes you sleep better at night, then yeah,” Frank retorts, head settling in between your legs.

Matt curses under his breath, fists coming up to press against his forehead. “Okay– just, fine. Just describe her to me Frank? Can you do that, then we’re even?”

“For now.”

“Fine, for now.”

You wiggle up on the couch, propping yourself up by your elbows as Frank flares his nostrils, inhaling you before him. “Fuck Red… the way she’s lyin’ on her back, spread out like this…”

Matt shudders as he palms himself, nodding.

You feel yourself heating up as you continue listening. “And she’s– she’s fucking drippin’, God, fuck.”

“Yeah?” Matt pants, shrugging off his slacks, hand closing around his cock as it springs free, tip leaking with precum. “Keep going.”

“And now, I’m gonna lick her pretty little clit.” Frank looks into your eyes, lips pressed together in a hard line. “You want me to do that for you, baby?”

The way your breath shakes as you say ‘yes’ makes the both of them smirk.

Then, Frank’s tongue flattens against your clit, drawing from you a sound you’ve only ever made while fantasising about them, only in the privacy of your bedroom, of your shower, and wherever else you’ve thought about them. Your back arches as he licks wet circles into you, pressure feeling like velvet on the most sensitive part of your body.

Matt finds a spot next to you as he strokes himself, eyes squeezed shut as the sounds you make travel through his body. You reach out, wrapping your hand around his cock as he leans over to play with your tits, marvelling at the thick length before you, at the way it looks like it was made for your pleasure.

‘Come here, Matt. You’re begging to be sucked’ are all the words you can manage in between moans, but he comes up right next to you, slapping his tip on your tongue. He groans as you lick along the underside of him, along the prominent vein that pulsates with every touch. He lets out a half-cry as you seal your mouth over him, taking him in so deep that he hits the back of your throat.

You start to bob your head, hand coming up to work his shaft in tandem, but Frank’s tongue slipping itself into the warmest, wettest part of you breaks you wholly, head tipping back as your peak sails through you.

Mouth and chin glistening with your cum, Frank looks up at you smugly, watching your erratic breathing as you come down from your high. He wipes his mouth before pushing off the couch to take his underwear off, cock so hard it slaps against his stomach. Your mouth goes dry at the girth, legs crossing over from the thought of him stretching you out; the pain that’ll give way to pleasure.

You get off the couch to kneel between them both, rug under your knees semi-cushioning you from the hardwood floor. A shudder runs through your body as you look up at them, standing tall over you, every hard contour of muscle illuminated in the dim light of the apartment. Pupils dilated and mind buzzing with the thought of every single thing you’d like to do to their bodies, you reach upwards, hands closing around their cocks, throbbing and warm under your touch. Your strokes are languid as you relish in the sounds that tumble from their mouths, string of curses music to your ears.

As your pace quickens, Matt tangles a hand in your hair. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this for,” he says, jerking your head back ever-so-slightly at the jolt of pleasure that runs through his body.

“Hmm,” you chuckle, flattening your tongue on his head, the half-howl half-cry he gives you making your legs shake. “And what about you, Frank?” You look up at him with innocent eyes as you shift to his cock, coating him in your saliva as he fucks the back of your throat.

He ruts into your mouth, grunting the words out. “Ever since I first laid eyes on you, darlin’.”

You move back to Matt, hand gliding easier along Frank’s length with the help of your spit, licking the underside of him before you take him all into your mouth. “Did you ever think this was gonna happen?”

Frank laughs as you push them together closer to you, taking turns to blow them. “You should see Red, jerkin’ himself to the thought of you.”

Frank jabs Matt in the chest lightly. “He’s not quiet about it.”

Matt turns red in the darkness, pursing his lips as his cock hits a spot at the back of your throat, making you gag. “Oh and what about you, Castle?”

Frank’s voice is gruff as he reaches down to play with your nipples. “Oh shut it, Red.”

You render them speechless for a second as you stuff them both into your mouth, stretching your lips to fit them in as much as possible. They’re big, bigger than you’ve ever had, so they barely fit, but God, you’re so good, trying to please them both at the same time.

“Fuck,” they curse, voices dropping an octave, Matt’s hand coiling tighter in your hair. Tears spill down your cheeks as you get sloppier, strings of saliva following you from one cock to the other.

“I can hear you,” – Matt pants – “saying her name in the shower.”

“Yeah, so? Maybe I did, once or twice.”

“No, no, no,” Matt laughs, “Not once or twice. All the damn time.”

Frank growls as Matt opens his mouth, fake moaning your name brazenly. “Cum for me darlin’, cum for m–”

A well placed kick to Matt’s ankle shuts him up, making him stumble backwards. “Yeah, okay, now I’m gonna say that to her for real.”

Frank shuffles behind you, bending you over the coffee table, pinning your outstretched arms at the wrists. The rug burn on your knees makes you hiss, but the resounding smack on your ass distracts you from the pain. It’s soothed by Frank’s wet cock slapping gently against his handprint, and then the trail of kisses he leaves from the welt to your pussy. He licks a broad stripe up your folds before plunging his fingers inside you, tongue exploring every part of you to see what sounds you make, what you like… what’s gonna get you to your next orgasm.

You let out a sharp exhale as you feel Frank being shoved away, the night air cold on your bare pussy, but you’re sent straight back to heaven as Matt’s mouth meets your core, tongue slipping inside your entrance as he spreads you apart with his hands. You recognise him by the way he eats you; he’s so much more gentler than Frank, taking his time with you as he worships your body.

But you’re not ready for the sensation of Frank lapping at your clit while Matt tongue-fucks your hole, the mewls and whimpers falling from your lips spurring them on to lick faster, prod deeper. You feel the pressure behind your stomach building to a crescendo, one that’s broken apart as you hear the sound of scuffling behind you, turning to see that Frank’s put Matt in a headlock.

Your eyes roll backwards in annoyance, frustrated at the way they’ve left you high and dry, a mix of your cum and their saliva dripping down your thighs and no orgasm to match.

“Darlin’?” Frank calls, slamming his hands on Matt’s chest.

“Yes, Frank?” you mumble, stretching your back over the coffee table.

“You want my cock?”

“Yes.”

In a flurry, Frank gets Matt flat on the ground enough that he can’t rise up to retaliate, not quickly at least, before pushing himself right into you. The combination of his thick girth and length makes you sweat, makes your eyes lull back in your head; the burn of the stretch slowly giving way to pleasure as he grinds into you.

He pulls back, far enough that you feel only the tip of him remaining inside, before slamming his hips into yours. You fall apart instantly as he drives his cock into that spot inside you, walls clenching and back arching as you pulsate around him.

Matt gets up, feet poised into a stance that screams ‘I’m gonna fucking kill you, Frank.’

“Did you? Did you just make her –”

“You’re goddamn right I did.”

Matt lets out an angry sigh before he helps you up, leading you to the dining table. He hoists you up on the table, brushing your hair to the side before grinning in your ear, every word dripping with want. “Alright sweetheart, here’s what’s gonna happen okay? I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve. None of that bullshit Castle’s been giving to you this whole time.”

The quiver in your breath makes him chuckle. “Ready for me to fuck that pretty pussy of yours?”

He drags his teeth along your pulse as you murmur ‘yes’ in his ear, nipping at the bruises Frank’s already left on your neck. You dig your nails into his shoulder as he traces himself on your folds, teasing you until you squeeze him, desperate for the gratification you know his cock will provide.

Frank comes up beside you, bending down to swirl his tongue over your nipple, fingers featherlight on your clit as he rubs it in small circles. You bite down on your bottom lip as Matt guides himself inside you, pushing until he can’t go any deeper, Frank’s fingers still wedged in between you.

He grits his teeth as he fucks you, one hand on your waist and the other wrapped around your thigh, the wet squelches of his thrusts almost too much for him to bear. Matt isn’t as girthy as Frank, but he reaches the deepest parts of you effortlessly, pistoning himself at an angle that makes you cry out his name. The way he drills himself into you echoes throughout the room, the sound of his hips snapping against yours the only thing you can focus on before you throw your head back, exploding on him.

Matt’s cocky grin makes you weak as he pulls out, chin levelling into Frank’s glowering stare. He brandishes his hands in front of him, palms pointed to you as if to say, ‘your turn now’.

Frank huffs at Matt as he scoops his hands under your ass, pulling you closer to the edge of the table. He wastes no time in filling your body with his, bending his knees as he drives himself upwards. You’re cockdumb at this point, eyes half-lidded and utterly glazed over, dopey smile the only thing you can muster as Matt tilts your chin up to his, kissing you hungrily as you moan into his mouth. Every thrust pulls from you a little mumble of unintelligible words, every nerve of yours firing at rates you didn’t think possible.

“Who’s winning, baby? Me or Frank?” Matt purrs, tongue scraping along your bottom lip.

“You’re b– fuck! Fuck, Frank!” – you say, in between his ruthless thrusts and the wicked gleam from his smile – “You’re both so good.”

You clench so tightly that Frank pops out of you for a second, but he doesn’t wait a beat to stuff himself back into you, continuing the relentless pace you know will have you ripped apart within minutes.

“That’s not good enough for us, darlin’,” Frank grits his teeth, hands digging into your ass.

“Sweetheart, I can’t even see and I know he’s not fucking you right.”

Frank snarls at Matt, swatting him out of the way as he lifts you onto his cock, off the table. Gripping your lower back, he pumps into you harder, the new angle making you want to tip your head back and howl. Ecstasy shoots through your veins as he carries you to the bedroom, cock still buried deep inside you.

He rakes his nails up your back as he uses your waist as leverage, moving you up and down on his cock with almost no effort at all.

“Yeah darlin’,” he groans, “You feel so fuckin’ good for me, you know that?”

You whimper in response, kissing him to muffle the cry that builds up from within… and your peak sails through your body, every muscle going taut, toes curling, fingernails leaving marks on his shoulders as your overstimulated body responds to his pleasure.

He lowers you on the bed, bracketing your head with his forearms, languid kisses matching the pace of his hips. You can feel every inch of him as he thrusts into you, body expanding to accommodate him as he stills inside.

“You’re fucking infuriating, Castle,” Matt barks, standing over the two of you as he strokes himself.

“Yeah, well, if you ain’t strong enough to fuck her standing, just say so,” Frank chuckles mirthlessly, coaxing you over the edge once more.

“You didn’t give me the goddamn chance!”

“Chance?” Frank spits, squeezing one of your tits, mattress dipping as he gets off the bed. “Oh by all means Red, be my guest.”

You’re caught between a gasp and a sharp exhale as fury embeds itself in Matt’s face, lips contorting into a snarl. You’ve never seen this side of him before; this dark edge simultaneously scaring you and turning you on more than you already are.

Something snaps in Matt.

He moves so quickly you almost miss it, akin to lightning flashing in a thunderstorm, pile-driving Frank into the bed so hard it’s a tangle of limbs and testosterone. Frank hits the bed, hard, hissing as Matt’s fist makes contact with his jaw, and then…

The soft splintering of wood, pricking Matt’s ears, sending him on high alert.

And the bed breaks. Two out of four legs collapsing in on themselves, the entire bed sinking on one side, catching all three of you off guard.

“Oops,” Matt grimaces, sheepish smile adorning his face.

Frank clicks his tongue, shaking his head at the broken bed as he gets up to his feet. “Goddamn it, Red. Really had to let your anger get the better of ‘ya, huh?”

You don’t care that your words are slurring a little. You’re cockdazed, and they better learn how to deal with it real fast. “Oh my God. You know what? I’m so sick of– I should’ve never made this bet if it was gonna get you two riled up like this–”

You wobble as you stand up, scowl scrunching your nose as you bare your teeth. “I’m so–”

Matt shuts you up with a kiss, not caring that your teeth clash a little, pulling you close to him by the ass. The feeling of his hard cock pressed up against your stomach melts you from within, drawing out a moan you can’t bite back.

“You’re right, sweetheart. We’re sorry,” Matt murmurs, tangling his fingers in the back of your head.

“Yeah darlin’, he’s right. We can get uh… a little competitive,” Frank lowers his voice, coming up behind you to press his kisses into your neck.

You scoff, but it’s quickly replaced by a soft sound, one that indicates you’re far from being done.

“I dunno, Red, you think she still wants us?” Frank grits, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Oh yeah,” Matt smirks, rubbing his cock on your clit, “I think she does.”

“I promise we’re gonna make it up to you, alright?” Frank teases, running his finger over the curve of your jaw. “Whatcha say, Red, wanna stuff her and make her scream for us?”

Matt’s devious smirk grows larger. “Only if she’s fine with it.”

He tips your chin upwards, the action exposing your neck enough so Frank can close his hand around it. “Are you fine with that?”

“You got some making up to do, gentlemen.”

“S’that a yes?” they say together.

“Yes.”

“Well, the bed is broken,” Matt sniffs the air, “but, we have all night and the entire apartment to explore, right?”

Matt’s grin is different now. Devilish.

And more so when Frank reciprocates it, eyes glinting with a feral hunger. “You’re damn right.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock smut #frank castle #frank castle smut #frank castle x reader smut #the punisher #matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle x matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader x matt murdock #matt murdock x reader x frank castle #rhi's mutuals 💗#daredevil #rhi responds 💌#saintmurd0ck 200 milestone celebration #rhi writes 💻#x reader

1K notes · View notes

imhereformysciencefriends · 7 months

Text

Blow this popcicle stand

My gift for @missycolorful for the @technoblade-gift-exchange

Read on AO3 here!

I had a total blast writing this! I hope you enjoy as well. I admit I kinda smushed together a couple of your prompts, but I am very happy with the result. Enjoy! <3

Phil was, historically, better at the talking-to-people thing. Not necessarily the being-reasonable thing, Techno did often have to sit in on all of Phil’s meetings in order to prevent unnecessary bloodshed due to, quote, “it’d be funny, mate,” unquote. But talking to people, talking was something Phil could and did do. Techno? Not so much. He didn’t, he didn’t really care for it, you know. Wasn’t really his forte.

But Phil was busy in a month-long series of meetings negotiating a new peace agreement with a nation that wanted regular access to the moon portal (financially a very good move for the Empire, logistically a nightmare). And while Techno would really prefer to be in those, both to have a comprehensive set of expectations for what would be happening in the future and to keep an eye on his partner, it wasn’t the only nation that wanted the Empire’s attention.

And Techno was, if not suited, at the very least capable of trade negotiations with one of their friendlier allies.

Even if he hated the idea.

His thick, heavy, fur-necked cape moved with his arms as he pulled his long hair back into a ponytail, the sound of his hooves ringing out against the arctic stone rather slowly as he approached the meeting room. Almost like he was dragging his feet. But jokes on you, Chat, Techno didn’t have feet to drag! So clearly he was getting there at a very reasonable pace. And wasn’t stalling. No chance of that, not with him, haha, nope!

Despite it being his literal actual destination, Techno found himself surprised when he was suddenly in front of the meeting room door. Who authorized this? Ninja doors, sittin’ around jumpscaring good hardworking emperors. Probably Phil, the weeb. Actually, Techno should try to remember this bit for later, he was sure Phil would love the notion of a ninja door. Get a good laugh outta that one.

Focus. He did still have to, you know, open the door. Have the pre-scheduled and entirely-foreseen meeting that would take place behind it.

Was that the alarm bell he heard? Off in the distance? Wayyyyy far away in the distance? No? Just him then? Alright.

No, Chat, he wasn’t stalling. He was just securing the perimeter with his superior hearing before engaging with outside forces. Yes he had superior hearing, look at the pink shell of his ears, sticking out of his face like that. What, no, he was not a bishounen, Chat, under no circumstances was anyone allowed to call him that. Honestly, the ideas that Chat got in their heads, smh.

Okay! Okay! He wasn’t stalling! He was opening the door now!

Inside the meeting room was the Essempi convoy, its three main representatives seated on the couch that faced the massive armchair Techno took. Next to his was a significantly smaller armchair, specifically designed to accommodate a man’s wings.

Not for nothing, Techno wished Phil was here.

“Welcome to the Empire,” he started, because that sounded most appropriate. Already, the back of his neck felt hot and damp with sweat. That’s why he put his hair up, he supposed.

“Thank you for having us,” replied the woman in the middle, leaning forward across the low table to extend her hand. Shoot, handshakes, should he have done that before he sat down? Did Phil normally do that? Techno was suddenly blanking on any social interaction he’d ever had prior to this one in his life.

Her hand was firm, warm, and had shallow calluses. The strong grip of a woman who worked and wasn’t intimidated by Techno in the slightest. Would it be easier for him if she was intimidated? More importantly, had Techno met her before? Her voice seemed… familiar. Ish. Familiarish.

Niki! That’s Nihachu Her name is Nikki, you’ve met her before Niki! Nikki? I never know which it is

“Uh, Niki, is it?”

She laughed, and it wasn’t a mean sound. Techno felt his face heating up anyway. “You remembered!” The look on her face wasn’t pity, nor offense, but she gave off the impression of being very knowing of what was going on in Techno’s brain, “My hair was brown last time we met, with the blonde in the front.”

Oh! Okay, yes, Techno could place her now. She’d been invited to the same weird political shindig festival party thing that Phil had dragged him to.

“Nice to see you again,” he said, a little more sincerely. And a touch relieved.

“You as well,” she said warmly, then gestured to the woman to her right. Er, well, to her left, Techno’s right—didn’t matter. “This is Captain Puffy, she’s a state-sponsored merchant we’ve been working closely with. She’s interested to see if she’d be a good match for this route, depending on what we work out.”

“Yo!”

Captain Puffy was an extremely short woman (maybe even shorter than Phil), though far from petite. Her big curling hair and big curling ram horns and big sunglasses and big captain’s coat all spoke to a relatively large personality, and the big smile she flashed him did not actually help settle Techno’s nerves. Maybe he should’ve had some tea or something before all this. She was also slouching, leaned against the arm of the couch with all the debonair swagger of a woman entirely at ease around important people. As an emperor of one of the world’s fastest growing empires, Techno could probably stand to take a page from her book.

Whose idea had it been to put him in charge, again? Oh right, his.

Gesturing to her other side, Niki continued, “And this is Ranboo. He’s something between a pupil and a little brother, to me; he’s mostly just here for this to be a learning experience.”

As short as the captain was, Ranboo was tall. Wraith-thin with too-big eyes and an air about him that seemed even more nervous than Techno felt. Techno at least had his flat affect and “monotone” voice (he still didn’t get that, but enough people had told him that he had a monotone by now that he just accepted it) to act as buffer. This kid (and Techno got a very strong impression that he was young, despite not knowing much about Ender ages (well, maybe he knew more than most, given the Empire’s plot-relevant access to the moon)) wasn’t so much as wearing his heart on his sleeve as he was stringing it up on a chandelier.

“Nice to meet you both,” Techno said, the captain giving him a lazy salute and Ranboo nodding so stiffly it looked like his neck might snap.

“Shall we get straight to it, then?” Niki asked, and Techno nodded, so incredibly thankful that someone else was comfortable taking charge of a conversation.

And then they sank blissfully into the thing that was Techno’s strong suit: his stuff. Techno had a good head for what items were worth, and while he wasn’t the most organized person (he had goons for that) he absolutely knew how much he had of what, and what the Empire could afford to spare in trading efforts, provided they received what they were promised in return. Now, storms could sink even the most experienced ships, and fleets could get blown off course, so he had to factor in wiggle room and contingency plans as well.

Another strong suit. Techno was a beast at contingency plans. Nobody could plan a contingency plan like Techno planned his plans.

The deeper they got into the numbers game and talk of resources, the more Techno chilled out. This wasn’t socializing, not really. He was mostly just indulging in his inventory vices while other people were in the room.

Something Essempi had in plenty that the Empire desperately needed was food. More specifically: vegetation. They had their arctic, thick-furred cows, their fluffy chickens, their heavy-hided boars, their densely-wooled sheep, and their round the clock fisheries. Nothing would breed too close to the moon portal, but here at the castle their herds and flocks were thriving just fine. But plants? That took underground greenhouses with low ceilings and constant torchlight to do anything. And a growing empire was a hungry thing: greenhouses alone weren’t going to be sustainable. Not long term.

Techno had his reservations about putting too much faith in their allies. A resource as important as food needed more than one source.

But. Techno’s reservations wouldn’t spontaneously feed everybody, and Essempi had been friendly and amicable all through negotiations. All things considered, they were probably the closest and most trustworthy ally the Empire had.

And their representatives didn’t make Techno want to melt into a puddle or stab anybody! So. Points all around in their favor. Niki did most of the talking, her voice soft and cheery, clearly the most familiar with Essempi resources and used to political negotiations. The captain would chime in mostly around the actual act of trade itself, naval logs and star charts and detailed maps crowding her end of the low table. Ranboo, as Niki mentioned, didn’t say… anything at all, the whole meeting. He just sat, straight-spined enough to put the strictest governess to shame and making eye contact with nobody, scratching notes into a book he’d brought.

Essempi was offering them good deals. More than fair, if Techno was being entirely honest. And he knew he didn’t have any personal charm to thank for that. He filed that away for future reference. Either Essempi was even more well off than rumors suspected, or there would come a day when they asked the Empire to pay back their generosity (likely with swords and soldiers, if the history books held any credence).

But that was fine. In the now, they were offering lucrative details for necessary resources. (In the future, Phil would need enrichment anyway (Techno, too, he did love a good fight)). Techno would still probably want to set up a couple additional trade agreements with other nations, just in case, just to cover all his bases. And the greenhouses obviously weren’t going anywhere, Techno would not be sacrificing even an ounce of pre-established self-sufficiency.

But even Techno, of all people, had to admit that he was feeling pretty optimistic by the time they all stood and shook hands in parting. He remembered to shake Puffy’s and Ranboo’s this time, Puffy’s hand tiny and grip strong, Ranboo’s slender fingers still faintly trembling with nerves but his smile seeming at the very least half-genuine.

Woof. Ough. His back. The time! The sun set early here, but he was still surprised to see that it had sunk below the horizon while he was squirreled away looking at documents and maps and an antique abacus. His staff seemed to agree, yawning and musing over dinner plans as the two groups dispersed, the Essempi convoy headed towards the guest quarters and Techno and his officials wandering further inwards of the castle.

“Well done in there, Your Majesty!” praised one of Techno’s staff while he wasn’t looking, and he was too embarrassed to admit that he hadn’t quite managed to catch who was talking, so he just raised a hand and gave a vague “Ayup” before leaving quickly. Much quicker than he had arrived, as it happened. So interesting, that things worked out like that.

“Busy day?” Phil asked as the door to the royal quarters clicked shut. Techno sighed heavily and let his head thunk back against the heavy wood. Phil, the intolerable jerk, giggled at him.

“Why weren’t you the one handling that again?”

“Because the little stunt we pulled was just a biiiiiit too successful,” Phil reminded with another chuckle, and Techno groaned as he shoved off the door.

It had been a gambit, but as a fledgling nation the Antarctic Empire had needed to gain the attention of the rest of the world, and gain their attention they had. An extremely brief, brutal, there-then-gone conquest that had left the vast majority of the world temporarily under the Empire’s claim. It served two purposes, each a message:

Do not, under any circumstances, make enemies of the Empire.

Probably a good idea to play nice and make friends, though.

Most of the world had taken the first message very much to heart, and the testing nudges they’d been making abruptly vanished. Some nations, like Essempi, had quickly jumped to playing nice, eager to make powerful allies (and perhaps just as eager to make sure they didn’t have a powerful enemy).

A couple nations had taken message number one as a challenge, and readied warships with bloodied thirst.

Not that the Empire couldn’t handle a bit of… rough play, but it did mean that after squashing attempts at overthrowing or subjugating them, Phil got saddled with miles of paperwork establishing the enemy’s surrender and the Empire’s new normal.

“I thought you were meeting with the guys who wanted moon access today?” Techno asked as he approached. Phil’d had dinner brought to their rooms, as they did most nights when they weren’t expected to make an appearance, and Techno let into the meat and eggs with gusto.

“That’s tomorrow. Tonight was more surrender talk.”

“So that’s why you double booked us. You wanted ‘em alone in a room with you.”

Phil giggled, waggling his fingers so as to make a show of his talons.

Techno gave a very half-hearted kick to his shin. Quarter-hearted. Maybe even sixth-hearted. Phil cackled at him.

“Can’t let you outta my sight for ten minutes,” Techno groused around a mouthful of chicken. Phil popped a handful of red berries into his mouth (some of the only vegetation that could be grown outside of the greenhouses), and he looked altogether too smug.

“How’re things with Essempi going? Off to a running start?”

“Actually? Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“I like the representative they sent over, Niki, she’s got a good head on her shoulders, and so far they’ve been fair, if not generous.” Techno gave his partner a meaningful glance. “We should probably expect a request for military aid, sometime in the future.”

Phil shrugged, entirely unfazed. “We’ve always known that’s a possibility. And we’re not exactly hurting for it.”

“Figured as much.” Techno lifted his plate to slide the eggs into his open mouth, the fork method far too slow. “Honestly don’t think this deal is gonna take too long to finalize. Week, probably?”

“For you? That’s a goddamn miracle, mate.”

Techno snorted. “I know, right? She’s got a pupil along with her, skinny guy named Ranboo. Showin’ him the ropes.”

Phil spluttered a laugh. “And she chose you for a practice round!?”

“I know right? Like, c’mon, cut the guy some slack. He looked ready to shake out of his skin. Don’t just throw him off the deep end chanting ‘blood for the blood god’ like there’s gotta be less intimidatin’ guys than me out there.”

Phil giggled and Techno continued, “Brought a ship captain too, Puffy, shorter than you and louder. She’s been a good help settin’ realistic expectations, but I dunno how involved she’s gonna be in the rest of our meetings.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a pretty good handle on it, mate. Good for you, good for you.”

Techno snorted. “Never thought we’d see the day.”

“Aww, I knew you could do it.” Techno cast him yet another look. He giggled. “Eventually.”

Techno guffawed and set his plate down, dropping his head back. By the Blood God, he felt tired.

“Well,” Phil continued, stretching his arms above his head and his wings out to each side, “nobody got attacked and no emergencies happened, so I’ll call this day a win.”

“Ah, but I did get attacked,” Techno said with a raised finger, remembering his joke from earlier.

“Oh?” Phil asked, with all the sharp-eyed curiosity of a man who knew a punchline was coming, but was trying to tell where from.

Techno heaved his head back up. “In the halls of our own very castle. I was caught off-guard—very brutally, I should add—by a ninja door.”

Phil broke immediately into cackles.

“Snuck up on me while I was just innocently walkin’ down the hall, Phil. Never would’ve expected it. One of our own doors. The betrayal was immense.”

“whAT?” Phil giggle-shouted, his feathers poofing and his shoulders shaking.

“I was just mindin’ my own business when bam! Suddenly the door was right there. Scared the life out of me. Don’t worry, Phil, I showed it who was boss. I twisted that handle like I was born for it.”

Phil was now laughing so hard tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.

Techno grinned, warmth glowing in the center of his chest. Truthfully, it probably wasn’t that funny of a joke, but the combination of fatigue, the subject being unexpected, and Phil being an easy audience made it sound like ninja doors were the funniest thing in the whole world.

The night was still young, but Techno was utterly drained from the day of talking (and tomorrow would be much the same) so he called it an early night. Phil, equally tired from twisting arms into surrender (and maybe getting to play a little mean with his talons, who knew. Not Techno! Techno hadn’t been there to reel him in!) was more than happy to agree.

This far south, sleeping in your own bed was about as smart as wandering the town naked. Too much warmth leached out that way. It was only sensible that family members shared a bed together, with drapes around the edges to keep the air captive.

Techno had no family to speak of, except the one, so the two emperors dressed for the night and crawled in together, Phil’s top wing spread out over them like an added blanket and his icy little feet pressed up against Techno’s leg.

“Why are you always an ice cube?” Techno groused, gathering his friend in his arms.

“Shhhh, you’re just a friggin’ blast furnace, mate. Go to sleep.”

Techno huffed, breath stirring Phi’s hair and making him chuckle, then nuzzled down into the blankets and his companion, wishing he could hibernate the day off. Blood God himself, he was tired.

But wake the next morning he did, and the next, and the next after that. Essempi eventually embarked for their home, along with the first shipment of goods from the Empire. More countries entered peace treaties with them, or at the very least non-aggression pacts, particularly as more nations fell to the Antarctic Empire’s might. Trade was good, their people sleeping with full bellies and a more or less nutritionally balanced diet. The Empire produced plenty of coal, in its cavernous depths, and many nations of warmer climates had want for the ice they so easily chiseled up from around them.

Things were good.

Techno was getting… better, about the whole talking to people thing. After the first few days, Ranboo had started speaking, and Techno had found a kindred spirit in him. The two now exchanged regular correspondence. Mostly about books, but sometimes they’d share personal stories or gossip (apparently Captain Puffy was working very closely with a certain someone, indeed). Meetings were no longer torments summoned directly from hell (not that Techno liked them, but Techno was pretty sure he was never actually going to like meetings (honestly, he was pretty sure nobody did)). He and Phil were getting a pretty good handle on this whole, “being emperors” thing.

That said, politically motivated social functions were still the worst. But Essempi was, to date, still their closest and friendliest ally, and Techno knew enough about court niceties by now to know that regardless of how much he might’ve wanted to, he and Phil could not turn down their invitation to a ball.

“What even is the point of balls,” Techno groused as he examined the flimsy nothings the tailor had made for him to wear there. Too thin of a material, not nearly enough fur around his neck, he’d freeze to death in this in an instant. He… did like the gold bits, though. He’d conceded on that. And the jewelry. Those parts were nice. The rest of it was like walking around in wet paper, though.

“Maintaining positive social ties with political figures we’ve already established with and makin’ new friends with new people at a designated function for doing so—”

“I was bein’ sarcastic, Phil,” Techno cut off the overly-formal lecture, making Phil cackle. “It’s called a rhetorical question, Phil, ever heard of it?”

“Can’t say I have, mate,” Phil lied with a giggle.

“A rhetorical question is a—” Techno started, overly-formal lecture of his own primed and at the ready, and Phil swatted him with a big black wing, setting them both to laughing.

The boat ride to Essempi went about as well as anticipated. Phil flitted about, happily assisting with the crow’s nest and upper rigging, and Techno spent about half of it bent over the railing, the other half desperately attempting to coax water and ginger teas into his stomach that he didn’t immediately upend.

“We should build a land bridge,” Techno groused when his friend came over to both hydrate and mock him.

Phil, predictably, laughed, “Mate, I don’t know if even we mine up enough stone for that,” he said as he passed a water flask over. Techno swished it around his mouth and spit, trying to rid himself of the now everpresent taste of bile, then sipped slowly and delicately, his stomach groaning pathetically and churning at even that.

“Then we’re building flying machines and we’re taking those. Planes, blimps, hot air balloons, I don’t care, this is the last trip I sail anywhere.”

“Blimp’s not a bad idea,” Phil mused as Techno shut his eyes, bracing himself against the railing with renewed force and willing the nausea to pass him over without taking his water with it. “It’d be more regal and dignified than staggerin’ off a boat dehydrated and starved and swaying.”

“Gonna punch you for that.”

“Are you now?” he asked with a giggle.

“Ayup. Just give me three to five business days to get off this railing and then it’s over for you. It’s so over for you.”

More laughter. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Well, I’m off to go perch in the crow’s nest again, have fun pukin’ your guts out.”

“Death. Death and violence.”

His friend’s retreating laughter left him and he stewed in abject misery for the rest of the trip. By the time they hit land and Techno was able to collapse into a bed that wasn’t swaying every which way, he was even looking forward to the party, since it meant not being on the boat.

The flimsy cheesecloth the tailor had prepared for him made more sense in this warmer climate, and now that he wasn’t being a stubborn child about it he had to admit: he cleaned up good. Deep red and gold and black, Phil his match but green, they were striking, appearing wealthy and deadly and even, somehow, regal.

Despite, y’know, it being the two of them.

The party goers were respectful, nobody jumping at the chance to speak with the Antarctic emperors but no one intentionally snubbing them either, and Techno mostly just had to loom behind Phil with a ridiculously shatterable little wine flute pinched delicately between his fingers and listen. Answer the occasional polite question that was directed his way, make sure Phil didn’t get too excited at any perceived slight, it was almost even normal.

He was at the food table, piling high a plate he intended to share with his co-emperor, when he heard a familiar, boisterous voice.

“Emperor Technoblade!”

“Captain,” he greeted, turning to her. She extended her drinking glass, and he gently clinked his against it. “They’re lettin’ riffraff like you in here?”

Puffy barked a sharp laugh, loud and unabashed. “I’m a plus one.”

“Oh?” Techno raised an eyebrow. “You and Niki official, then?”

Puffy squinted. “And how exactly do you know about that?”

Techno smirked behind the rim of his glass. “I have informants everywhere.”

Puffy laughed, once again boisterous and booming, and landed a playful punch just barely above Techno’s elbow. Haha why are you so short.jpeg. Oh c’mon Chat that joke is not old that’s still peak comedy right there.

“Man, I can’t believe everyone’s so intimidated by you.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you saw me in a fight,” Techno countered, amused.

“And you wouldn’t say that if you saw me in one, blood boy!”

Techno arched an eyebrow. “Blood boy,” that was a new one. In their trade with Essempi, Techno and Phil had gotten to know the sea captain a little better each time she was in their port, and she’d taken to treating them with the same friendly irreverence she spoke to everyone with.

Techno set his plate down on the edge of the table, largely crowded out by the serving dishes but finding just enough space for it to not go falling over. Intentionally, he loomed over her, his impressive height casting her fully in shadow, and let himself grin.

“Careful, Captain. It’s not smart to threaten me with a good time.”

As tolerable as the party was thus far, Techno would be lying if he said he wouldn’t ditch in half a heartbeat to go screw around. And after the miserable journey here, a good friendly sparring match with a spunky lady sounded like even more fun than usual.

Puffy rocked up on her hooves, and even on the tips while Techno was stooping down she couldn’t really get “in” his face but he understood the gesture. His grin widened. It matched her own.

“What’s the matter, big boy, don’t think you could take me?”

“Miss Puffy, um, you promised Miss Niki you wouldn’t cause a scene,” came a timid voice from nearby, and both Techno and Captain Puffy perked.

“Ranboo,” Techno greeted, scooping up his plate of food and crossing the distance to his young friend.

“Hello, Emperor Technoblade, it’s nice to see you, please don’t encourage her.”

“Good to see you too,” Techno said warmly, meaning it. Through their letters, Techno had come to regard the young Enderian as a good friend.

Puffy gasped as she trotted over, and shoved right up into Ranboo’s space. “Are you the nark?”

“Um,” Ranboo said, backing slowly away only to be further crowded by a sheep woman half his height, clearly confused, “no?”

“Yeah, Captain, what’s with this baseless accusation you’re makin’ against my good pal Ranboo?”

“I can’t believe this. Betrayed by my own girlfriend’s tagalong.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about??”

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Techno said, slinging an arm over Ranboo’s shoulders and nearly bowling the guy over with its weight. Techno had seen bamboo shoots with more structural integrity, smh.

“E-either way, please do not help Miss Puffy make a scene. Miss Niki specifically instructed her not to do that.”

“Guess we’ll just have to go somewhere there’s nobody else around,” Puffy said, still full of good cheer.

“True. Can’t make a scene if there’s no one to see it.”

“Oh, no. I. I’m going to go get Miss Niki.” Techno barked a laugh but released Ranboo to go do so, and Puffy waggled her fingers at his retreating backside.

“Kayyyy. We won’t be here when you get back!”

Techno glanced down at the plate in his hand. Hm. Well, he couldn’t just return it all to the serving dishes, he’d already touched it. Puffy nudged him with her elbow, and when he glanced her way he found her pulling at her wide neckline and winking at him. With her other hand, she lifted the neck of a bottle of what surely must be rum, and he caught on immediately. Using one of the overly-fancy napkins, he bundled his snacks and passed them to her, watching her disappear them into her clothes. That was so smart, he’d have to talk to his tailor about providing him that kind of opportunity in future outfits.

His loyalty to his co-emperor did him in, though. Puffy was already heading out one of the patio doors, sneaking off into a well-maintained garden, but Techno detoured to grab Phil, knowing if there was going to be any fighting, for fun or for murder, he’d be heartbroken if Techno left him out.

“Emperor Technoblade,” greeted Niki from behind him while he was trying to wait out the conversation Phil was currently engaged in. She sounded icier than when she’d been in his antarctic home, negotiating trade.

Busted.

“Hello, Niki,” he returned. Definitely not sounding guilty. Nothing going on over here officer, no suspicious activity whatsoever.

“It seems my partner for the evening has vacated the premises. Would you care to dance with me in her place?”

“Uhhhhh.” Techno wasn’t the best at court niceties, but he knew a request from a “request.” He took her outstretched hand.

“What uh—why the sudden interest?” Oh that sounded so suspicious he could stab himself.

“Can a lowly civic servant not ask an emperor for a dance?”

“Uhhhh no, no that’s fine. That’s uh, that’s fine, just, haven’t uh—how you been, Niki, haven’t seen you in a while!” he not-so-subtly changed the subject.

“I have been alright. Times have been better for us than in a long time, and I have been kept busy making sure it all stays in running order.”

“Not too busy, I hope?”

Niki laughed, but it wasn’t the most mirthful sound he’d ever heard.

In some of Ranboo’s letters, he’d voiced concern for his mentor/sister figure, writing of nightmares and insomnia that was only partially due to her high workload.

“Cause stressin’ yourself out can take a toll on the body, you know,” Techno pushed, not sure if it was his place to or not, but eh. He liked Niki. She was a good sensible woman who (normally) didn’t make him feel like dying or killing out of sheer mortification. And during negotiations, she’d been friendly. “It’s important to take breaks and have fun, every now and then.”

She pursed her lips in a frown, and it looked so much like she was pouting that he chuckled. “C’mon, take a load off.” He grinned at her, playful and a little teasing. “There’s a very pretty girl outside who I know would just love to have you come goof off with us.”

“Well now that’s not out of the ordinary. That very pretty girl is always trying to get me to goof off.”

“Maybe you should listen to her more often.”

Niki sighed and let Techno spin her, the dress she’d chosen for the party flaring nicely. “Maybe I should.”

“Yeahhhhhhhh that’s the spirit! Come join us! We’ll make, like, a bookclub or something.”

Niki let out a “pfft,” and then giggled quietly. “I should put that in my credentials somewhere. ‘In a bookclub with an emperor.’”

“Two emperors if I can get him away from those—what are they, petty nobles?”

“Ambassadors from Kpop.”

“Cringe. We gotta get outta here, Niki, I can feel my viewership dropping by the moment.”

“I don’t know what that means—Technoblade!”

In a grand sweeping movement that was definitely not typical but could still technically be considered dancing, Techno rushed the two of them towards the patio, catching Phil’s eye just briefly enough to give a jerk of his chin, watching his friend’s eyes light up with curiosity and mirth.

Okay, good, Phil was coming.

“Really,” Niki scolded, but she wasn’t resisting him at all as he dragged her along, out into the privacy of the manicured foliage and beyond.

“Ehhh, relaaax. Nobody saw us leave. Probably.”

“I am quite sure a great many people saw us leave.”

“Eh. Phil and I already talked to everybody important that would get, like, big mad if we didn’t. We can ditch.”

“I am part of the hosting party.”

“Aaaaaaaaand now you’re not. So it’s fine, it’s fiiiine.”

Niki giggled, and it sounded just a little more genuine. Good. He was getting a good grade in cheering Niki up, something reasonable to want and possible to achieve.

“Heyyyyyy, look what the pig dragged in!” Puffy cheered, bottle open in one hand and waving excitedly with the other.

“You are incorrigible. I cannot believe you dragged an emperor in on your shenanigans.”

“This is actually pretty consistent with my character honey, I don’t know what to tell you.”

Techno barked a laugh and snagged the bottle from her, taking a big gulp before extending it towards Niki.

“I am surrounded by ruffians,” she said, but he noted she took the bottle and a big drink of her own.

“Ehhh, I wouldn’t really call two people ‘surrounded,’ maybe sandwiched?” A familiar sound of wings had Techno’s elbow angling up on instinct, and soon he had a shoulder full of best friend. “Okay, Phil’s here, now you’re surrounded.”

“Who’re we surrounding?”

“We’re forcing Niki to take a load off and have a nice evening.”

“Pog.”

“Cheers to that, Emperor number two!”

Phil spluttered around laughter as he hopped from his perch. “I’m just the number two now, am I?” He took the bottle from Niki, who went and leaned on her laughing girlfriend and pressed a kiss atop one of her horns.

The sound of footsteps and not-so-subtle huffing and puffing had them all turning to look. It was far too loud to be any kind of assassin, so nobody was on guard, and Phil took another swig of rum as Ranboo rounded a hedge.

Realizing his late entry made all eyes fall on him, Ranboo flushed. Huh. He turned kinda greenish on one side and a more typical red on the other. Pogchamp, Techno supposed.

“Uh,” he said, still catching his breath a bit. “Um. Miss Niki, you, uh, left the party.”

“Sorry Ranboo,” she said, looking honestly chagrined. “I did not mean to leave you there on your own.”

Ah. Left alone by the extrovert that adopted you at a party that wasn’t your idea to attend in the first place. A fate worse than death, which Techno would not wish on his worst enemy, much less friend.

“Um. Why is, everyone here, and not, inside?” he asked, tail twitching and lashing with his agitation.

“We’re ditching,” Techno said, slinging an arm around the little beanpole once again. “You are too.”

“I’m—what?” Ranboo spluttered as Techno dragged him forward, starting the group into a slow amble further from the noises of the party, Niki looking at him with apology and Puffy cheering around a laugh.

“Yeah, mate, you’re a delinquent now!” Phil said brightly, pushing Ranboo from behind while Techno pulled. “Gotta play hookie with us.”

“I, um, I uh, well,” he stammered, twisting his fingers, looking about between them and finding absolutely no help.

“You’re bein’ peer pressured. We’re peer pressurin’ you. Just come goof off with us, Ranboo, join the dark side, we have cookies.”

“We do, actually,” Puffy said, taking the rum back and finishing off the bottle. “I’ve got enough snacks hidden in my various pockets to feed an army.”

“Absolute pogchamp.”

“Oh I knew you were up to something!”

“Always,” Puffy said with a wink, rising up onto her hooftips to kiss Niki’s cheek.

“I, uh…” Ranboo sighed. It was a great heaving thing, making him sound more and more like a dejected cat.

“Yeahhhh! One Ranboo, officially roped into our nonsense. Gang’s all here now, gang’s all here.”

“So what’re we doing?” Phil asked cheerfully, crossing his wrists behind his head in a strikingly anime fashion.

“Well, the captain and I were gonna fight—” Phil’s eyes lit up in an excited glint, drawn to the allure of playful violence, “—but since we’ve got Niki and Ranboo now I say we just goof around on the beach.”

“That… does actually sound kind of nice,” Niki admitted, and Ranboo’s whole body perked hopefully. Techno gave one noodle arm a nudge with an elbow and sent him a quick wink. They’d get that girl to take a load off and enjoy herself, even if it took all four of them to do it.

A rustling, too large to be a rabbit, came from a bush ahead of them, just on that seam of land where dirt shifted into sand. Not a moment later, out spilled a man, a man wearing a bright blue onesie.

“Connor?!?” asked all five of them, equally shocked.

“Hey heyyyyyyy, guyyyyys,” Connor said, one leg still trapped inside the bush, splayed out on his back and craning his neck back to look at them, lifting a hand in a peace sign. “How’s it going?”

“Connor, what are you doing here?” Niki asked, concerned.

“Wait, how do you know Connor?” Phil asked.

“How do you know Connor?” Ranboo countered, Niki helping pry the man loose from the bush’s terrible clutches and more or less right himself on his feet.

“Oh, I get around a lot,” Connor said blithely, “At this point I know most people.”

For a moment, they stood in a loose circle, staring silently at one another.

A bottle uncorked and attention turned to Puffy. “I mean, I also know Connor,” she said, taking a swig of something new. “Wanna come screw around on the beach with us? I brought snacks.”

“Oh fuck yeah.”

And screw around they did. Mostly just walking and talking under starlight, the ocean breeze cool but only as much to be pleasant. They found a nice flat rock to take a sit on and Puffy shared the many treats she’d secreted, everyone chowing down and laughing around jokes and conversation. Phil and Puffy got into a wrestling match in the sand at one point, Connor braided uneven sections of Puffy’s hair while Niki pleated nice, neat rows, Techno and Ranboo discussed the recent installment of a book series they’d both been following and that Ranboo had shipped a copy of, knowing Techno would want one and wouldn’t want to wait long enough to place the order all the way from Antarctica.

Phil perched on Techno’s shoulders for no reason other than to feel tall, Connor relayed a tale so wild no one was sure if Connor could actually have survived that sort of thing, or if he was just making up shit as he went along, and Niki was laughing with her whole chest, flush to her cheeks and a weight lifted from her.

It was a good evening. A good night, as the moon rose higher and the distant, far-off sounds of partying wound lower. Their group was winding down as well, conversation fading into companionable silence.

Niki’s weight slumped against Techno’s side, and he glanced down to find the woman asleep.

“Gotter,” he teased softly, nudging Ranboo on his other side.

“Oh, good,” he said fondly, peering around Techno and ending up leaning on him too, as a result. Phil chuckled from above, still perched on Techno’s shoulders. Connor munched away at the remaining snacks, seated on the sand in front of the flat stone, and Puffy leaned contentedly back on her hands on Niki’s other side, staring up at the starlight.

Techno still might not be the best at talking to people, but even he had to admit: if it meant getting him here, on a night that he would’ve otherwise slogged through in a stuffy party full of people he didn’t know, he was pretty glad he’d done so.

Ayup. Not a bad place for him to be.

#dream smp #Technoblade #Philza #Emduo #Niki Nihachu #Captain Puffy #Ranboo #emerald duo #smpearth #smp earth #fantasy politics #my writing #haro writes #connoreatspants is also there #syndicate #dsmp

71 notes · View notes

roosterr · 1 year

Text

guardian angel ✹ ch 3

note: this chapter gave me so many problems :') i have a love hate relationship with it. but anyway i hope yall enjoy :D

pairing: nikolai x gn!reader

word count: 2.2k

your callsign is 'kilo 0-9', no use of y/n, no description of reader

summary: you're gone and the gang is scrambling to get you back. nikolai has someone to sink his teeth into, and he's prepared to get his hands dirty if it means getting you back

warnings: nik's pov, canon-typical violence, a bit of light torture, english speakers attempt at russian, nik being a bit of a dick

ao3

[two] || [four]

nikolai must be losing his mind.

"you lost the sergeant?"

he has to be, he refused to believe that you were actually gone. alex's words were still ringing in his ears, the stabbing pain in his heart when he heard through the radio fresh in his memory.

you promised you'd come back to him.

he curses – the higher powers, alex, even himself for letting this happen. he drags an incredibly stressed hand through his hair, thoughts running a mile a minute thinking about where you could be, what could be happening to you. it's been a long time, longer than he can remember, since he's had someone to care about; the two of you may not have known each other for that long, but being faced with the prospect of you not coming back, he feels a genuine twinge of fear in his chest.

"i tried to follow, but the gps signal went cold and i couldn't pick it back up," alex explains with his head in his hands from where he sits at the table. "i should've intervened, i should've done something."

"it's a little late for that, no?" nikolai seethes, shooting daggers into the back of alex's head from behind his sunglasses.

"i know," he's clearly wracked by the guilt, but nik can't find the means to care, the miserable tone of alex's voice only serving to aggravate him further, "i fucked up, i'm sorry."

nikolai tuts, stepping closer to where he sits. "why are you apologising to me? 0-9 is the one missing, not me." his voice drips with venom as he drops a hand onto alex's shoulder, roughly twisting him so they can glare at each other head on.

"enough!" farah’s voice breaks them apart, as she enters the room and comes to stand across the table from them, "arguing will not fix this. we don't have time to fight amongst ourselves." she fixes them both with a stony expression, but her uneasiness bleeds through the cracks.

"i'm sorry, farah." alex sighs, and despite not being able to see his face anymore, nik can tell he’s giving her a look comparable to a kicked puppy.

she shakes her head. "i had hoped 0-9 would have more sense than this," she says. her words ignite a new wave of red hot anger within nik, and he’s about to lay into her until she continues, "but that being said, i don't believe they would put themselves at risk like this for no reason."

nik pauses, his expression relaxing. "you think something else is going on?"

"i do." farah nods, crossing her arms over her chest with a serious look on her face.

"so, what's our move, commander?" alex stands up from his seat, making his way around the table to stand next to her.

"malika has the man you captured – the original buyer – in the interrogation room." she says, looking between the two of them, "we may be able to get something out of him."

"i can make him talk." nik growls, already stalking towards the door. as far as he's concerned, it's not a matter of if they can get him to talk, but when.

farah grabs his arm as he brushes past her, "nikolai–"

"i will not take no for an answer this time, commander." his had a dangerous tone, and his face a dark expression under his aviators when he looks at her.

he and the commander hold their stares for a tense moment, neither willing to back down. farah sighs, "...very well. but please, try not to kill him."

"of course." he replies, though it's not entirely true, he has no intention of killing him until he's sure they've gotten everything they can out of him.

"nikolai," farah holds him still as he moves to walk away, as if sensing unease. "we will find them." she tells him, a determined sound to her voice. nikolai huffs, a small lopsided smile pulling at his lips.

"i will not rest until we do."

✹✹✹

the heavy lock clicks as malika turns the key, pushing the door open and watching nik from the corner of her eye as he passes her. the room is bare apart from a table, covered by a cloth, and a single chair in the centre, where their prisoner sits with his hands and feet tied securely to the wooden frame. his head hangs, and nik can clearly see his body shaking with a pathetic kind of fear.

at the clunk of the door shutting and locking again, the prisoner raises his head, his expression hardening as he looks up at nikolai – an attempt to seem tougher than he is, which is, honestly, easier to read than a wide open book. for a moment or two, he simply leans back against the wall with his arms crossed, fixing the prisoner with a glare so cold it could freeze him.

"your name?" nik finally breaks the silence, causing the prisoner to startle with they way his voice cuts through the air. he flinches slightly and tries to disguise it by shifting in his seat, the wooden chair creaking under his weight.

"i– i'm not telling you anything." he stutters, the quake in his shoulders still very much apparent.

nik hums with a disarming thoughtfulness. he was scared, that much was obvious – no matter how desperately he tried to hide it – so perhaps it would be easier to break him than he'd thought.

"it's not you i'm interested in, you're simply collateral damage." he says, pushing off the wall and stepping closer to the chair. he leans back as nik approaches, as far as his restraints would allow.

the prisoner pauses to think, seemingly having some sort of internal battle before responding. "...sergei."

"sergei," nik gives him a smile that doesn't come close to meeting his eyes, "tell me about the man you were meeting with."

"you– you're going to kill me, right?" sergei looks up at him, his expression more apprehensive than before. nik still has the false, almost mocking, smile on his face as he stares back down at his prisoner.

"if you tell me what i want to know, i will reward you with letting you keep your life."

"...you'll just kill me anyway." sergei mutters, avoiding nik's intense gaze.

"die now, or die later." nik leans down, unfolding his arms and leaning one on the armrest of the chair, invading sergei's personal space to make him squirm. "your choice."

"e– even if you let me go, there's no way baranov will let me live after–" sergei freezes, clamping his jaw shut with a distressed look on his face, and nik smiles. though tempting, he resists the urge to laugh at the obvious panic emanating from him.

"ah, now we're getting somewhere, sergei." he says, leaning back again with an amused expression. "so tell me, this baranov, where would he be now?"

sergei sputters for a moment, "i'm not– i– i won't talk." he finally hisses, the mirth in his voice no match for the desperation in his eyes.

"дружище, you already have. you think this will help you? would your comrades protect you the same way?" nik leans in closer again, a sneer on his lips, "ребёнок, i apologise."

"…what?"

"i apologise," nik repeats, the faux sympathy absent from his voice and replaced by a seething venom. "i let you think you have a choice."

without warning, he pulls back his arm and delivers a fierce and satisfying slap to sergei's face. his head whips to the side, drawing a pained grunt from him as he reels from the blow.

"fu–uck you." he spits, rolling his neck grimacing at the feeling of blood falling down his face from the fresh cut on his cheek. "you'll never find them or your soldier."

"is that so?" nik scoffs, dry and clipped as his patience wears thin. he stands back up straight, looking down his nose at sergei with a disdainful glare. "then it's also true that your little friends will never find you – though i doubt they would even look."

"...fuck you."

"they allowed you to be captured so easily – it's like i said earlier, you are simply collateral damage."

"shut the hell up!" sergei yells, lurching forward in his restraints and baring his teeth, "your moron fucking foreigner is probably missing their head by now! i bet they died wondering why you didn't save them."

the mention of you has nik seeing red, his blood practically boiling under his skin as he watches sergei insult you. it was a rookie mistake to let him get under his skin like this, but he would be damned before he let someone disrespect your name – especially in front of him.

nik lifts his boot to sergei's chest, effectively shutting him up for the moment, and with all the anger building inside him he shoves his body backwards, toppling the chair over and sergei along with it. his head makes a sickening thud when he hits the stone floor, the choked whine that leaves his throat the only indicator that he was still conscious.

nikolai smiles again, a little more genuinely this time, and steps around to stand at his side. he crouches, watching the dazed look in sergei's eyes melt into fear, and plants his boot firmly on his sternum.

"i will give you one. last. chance." nik growls, leaning more and more pressure onto his chest with every word, "tell me where my sergeant is, or i will make you beg for death."

"g– go f–uck yourself…" sergei coughs out, pulling his lips into a faint, defiant smirk.

"then we'll do this the hard way." nik sneers.

he stands, making sure to put the most weight on the foot pinning sergei, and makes his way over to the table in the corner. lifting the cloth covering it, he glances at the various tools and weapons laying in front of him. he considers all the ways he could make his prisoner bleed, slowly claw the answers he needs out of him and make him pay for how he spoke about you.

after some deliberation, nik settles on a rusty pair of long-nose pliers, replacing the cloth over the table as he turns back around to where sergei still lays helpless on the floor.

a moment passes, serving to make him even more uneasy in the silence, before nik stalks back to the middle of the room. he leans over the chair, his furious gaze piercing through sergei, and pulls it up by the armrests.

sergei's head drops forward, and he lets out another pained groan, but nik ignores his discomfort and roughly yanks his head up with a hand on his jaw. he squeezes tightly, and as sergei opens his mouth to whine again, he clamps the pliers firmly around one of his teeth.

sergei's eyes fly open at the sensation, feebly trying to shake his head in nikolai's grip. "wai– no, no no– i'll talk, i'll talk!" he sputters around the pliers, struggling in his restraints as he attempts to lean away from nik.

"then speak." he gives the pliers a sharp tug, stopping sergei's writhing and drawing another pathetic whimper from him.

"the– the meeting– it was a setup," he begins. nik lets go of his tooth and moves his hand to his throat, pulling back slightly and gesturing for him to continue. "they screwed us over – a while ago, back in russia – so baranov set the meeting up as a trap…"

a cold sense of dread settles over nik; the same feeling that had pierced his heart when alex first broke the news of your disappearance. there had been a spark of hope when farah had allowed him to question sergei, but that had been quickly snuffed out by what he'd pried out of sergei.

the hand around his neck subconsciously tightens as he processes sergei's confession. not only had they known who you were from the very beginning, but the intel you'd gathered and going undercover to catch them out – it had all been a part of their plan.

sergei lets out a choked cough, "i– i just work for him– i was just following orders, i swear!" he gasps, desperately trying to draw in a breath through nikolai's iron grip.

with a sharp click of his tongue, he releases sergei's throat, wiping his bloody hand on his shirt and giving his head a shove for good measure as he turns away. sergei's pleas and begging are white noise to nik as he throws the pliers on the table and knocks on the door for malika to let him out.

he'd have time to take his anger out later; for now though, his focus is solely on finding you and, most importantly, bringing you safely home to him.

#nikolai x reader #nikolai cod x reader #nikolai call of duty #nikolai cod #call of duty #cod mw19 #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #cod nikolai #nikolai mw19 #nikolai my beloved #roosterr writes

155 notes · View notes

icarus-does-fall · 2 months

Text

The actual cod fic I've been meaning to write 💪

Aka I wrote the first paragraph like... two weeks ago, then did other things and then wrote the rest of it in two hours ^_^

Anyway it's a poly fic, Ghost, Roach and Soap- it's also fluffy as hell an super sweet

Please enjoy <3

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤..𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

Ghost, a cold man, un-emotional, harsh, hostile, a killer. Those that saw him walking the halls moved out of his way, people walked on eggshells around him.

Simon, a warm man, a man kept hidden from everyone except a select few. One who smiled, laughed, had a home and melted at his lovers’ touches. Simon who carried in all the groceries and demanded morning cuddles even if it made him and others late.

So how did a man as harsh as Ghost, find the people that broke past his walls, to make his two sides collide?

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

“MacTavish!” Price shouted, and it was in that moment Soap knew he fucked up.

Soap wasn’t stupid by any means, he was the 141s demolitions expert, a little bit of a maths genius and he knew multiple languages. Yet he was also a child at heart and he couldn’t resist the occasional prank.

“Capt'n! Is a pleasure, whit kin I do ye fur?”

Price scowled. “Ya bloody nearly blew half of the barracks, an’ now the other half is covered in glitter- What exactly were you trying to achieve there?”

“Jist a wee bit o’fun Cap’ naethin’ too serious… Ah might've gaen a bit o’erborard but naebody ‘round here seems to ken how to lighten up- ‘cept maybe Gaz an’ Roach. Place jist needed some colour is aw Cap.”

Price's scowl deepened before he simply shook his head and sighed. “You're on clean up duty till the barracks are back to normal- Ghost is supervising you and the rest of ya muppets to make sure nothing else breaks.”

“Shite- Ghost? Why can't… uh… literally anyone else keep an eye oan us? Swear that man hates our guts, he’d raither shoot us than listen tae us talk.”

At that Price let out a gruff laugh and clapped Soap on the shoulder before sending him on his way towards the rest of the so-called detention group. “That's the exact reason, Ghost will keep ya muppets in line cause I got other stuff to take care of instead of babysittin’.”

Soap merely sighed he knew there was no getting out of the punishment that Price had set up for him and the rest of the “troublemakers” on base. He marched his way towards the barracks, as he ran into Gaz, Nikolai and Alex all marching towards their doom as well.

“How’d ye lot pish off Price tae end up wae Ghost in detention?”

Nik simply rolled his eyes as Soap joined in with the little group walking towards the barracks for clean up. “It's all your fault that we’re in this mess MacTavish.”

Soap baulked, “My fault? Whit gies ye that idea?”

“Because we were helping cover your ass- And now John is pissed at me so I’ve been kicked out of bed-”

Gaz cut in before Nik could keep talking. “I'm here cause I was stupid enough to think we wouldn’t get found out, so not really on ya, its more of uh mutual screw up but still, we could’ve done better we’re stuck with fuckin Ghost of all people now… I know he's on our team ‘n all but he scares the shit out of me sometimes.”

Alex however just rolled his eyes and continued on walking, while he loved his team and the occasional chaos they all could get up to, he knew the punishment they were facing was all their faults in the same faction or another and there wasn't any true reason to argue (or blame) it all on Soap. No matter how much Nikolai wanted to simply cause Price kicked the poor guy out of bed.

Soap tsked and walked ahead of the group, slinging his arm around Gazs shoulders with a grin. “You lot worry tae much, surely a wee Ghosty can't be tae harsh.”

The rest of them exchanged glances and laughed at how optimistic Soap was, for an intelligent guy, sometimes he was kinda stupid. But of course that's what made him ever so loveable, by the lads and the ladies.

Not long after their short chat in the hall they made it to the barracks and there was Ghost, standing at the entrance clad in his uniform and mask. The group immediately sobered up and waited for Ghost to speak. He didn't. He merely grunted with a nod and made sure each of the four walked into the barracks. “Price put in charge. You lot are gonna clean, and there won't be any games- Get to it.”

The four grumbled up, picked up the brooms and dustpans that had been laid out and began to clean. Ghost leaned against a nearby wall and supervised the clean up. Soap would make an odd joke here or there causing Gaz or Alex to throw something in his direction leading Ghost to bark orders in their direction to knock it off- For the most part Nikolai kept his head down and did what he was told, merely grumbling about how it was unfair and was a rookies job, not for him.

And the four cleaned until well past dusk, other soldiers on the base working their way around them to make their way towards their beds, all casting pitiful glances in their directions as the rest of base headed off to bed. At one point even Price stopped by to collect Nik, leaving just three left to keep cleaning.

“Aye Ghost, keep them muppets on task till this place is spotless- but I am taking Nik back, beds getting lonely. Kicked ‘em out for nearly a week now.”

Ghost nodded at the order. If nothing else the man was loyal and followed orders like a well trained dog- Which Soap of course made a comment on.

“Like a dog aren't ye Ghost? Trained for on an’ aff the field are ye?”

Ghost scowled underneath his mask and in a low grumble, one that spent shivers down people's spines as he spoke. “You think you're any better ‘cause ya make noise? You're just as much of a bloody dog as I am MacTavish, so quit your yapping ‘for we muzzle ya.”

Soap flushed and chuckled nervously as he for once did as he was told and stopped talking. He went back to cleaning and Gaz and Alex exchanged semi-nervous glances, it was suddenly very tense and heated where they all stood.

At least it was until Gaz spoke up. “Sooo- If we muzzle Soap that mean he gets a leash too? Cause the pet store has these ones with bells on ‘em, got one for my cat cause I kept losing her in all the pillows back home.”

Alex laughed and shook his head, “Nah mate Soap looks more like the type of guy to wear the muzzle and still keep growling… Unless of course he’s secretly into that sort of that thing~”

Soap huffed and with his cheeks still a slight red threw his arms over the twos shoulders, turning his growl into a cheeky grin and playful wink. “Ye ken ye just have tae dae is ask if ye wanna find oot whit kinda beastie I am in bed~”

Gaz scowled playfully and lightly shoved Soap off of him with a laugh. “Yeah right, my girl would have my ass if I took you to bed Soap and we both know it- My ass and your dick would be hanging on her wall for trying to mess with her.”

Soap grinned and then poked Alex in the cheek. “Sooo whit’s that saying aboot ye then?”

Alex shook his head as he chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Yaknow for being so smart, you're a terrible flirt sometimes Soap, honestly I’ve heard my abuela do better than that and she's almost 95.”

Soap pouted and his eyes flickered towards Ghost before he laughed and shook his head, sure he was goofing off but he wasn't going to try and test his luck that much- Not while the mans already pissed off at them all anyway. He knew Ghost could have a laugh every once and a while but it was a hard achievement to get.

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

It was nearly 4 in the morning by the time the four- turned tree of them finished cleaning while under the supervision of Ghost who stood as still a stone the entire time. A couple times it was brought into question if he was still awake, or was blinking. In which he scared them with a response and coincidentally shut them up at the same time.

Once they were allowed to depart they were nearly sleep deprived for all the cleaning. Staying up 48, even 72 hours for a mission was no problem but to make them clean and they were whipped out after just a few hours of work.

Gaz and Alex went to bed almost immediately, but Soap in his sleepy and ever intelligent state decided to be a menace to Ghost just a bit longer. So as Ghost was turning to walk away Soap caught up with him and swung his arm over his shoulder with a cheeky grin. “Aye Ghosty! Ye never answered the question of seein’ me in bed ye ken.”

Ghost scowled slightly and shoved Soap off of him with a growl. “Because it was a stupid question. How can you be so smart and yet so bloody stupid all at once?”

Soap rolled his eyes as he kept pace with Ghost and huffed slightly. “Not stupid, just know how to have fun unlike some people around here- I might need a muzzle but I’m not kept on a leash like you are.”

Ghost stopped walking. Dead in the middle of the hallway he stopped walking and turned to Soap with a glare, it was a dangerous and deadly look. “On a leash? What, want me to prove I think for myself?”

Soaps grin came back in a flash and he laughed, “obviously.”

It was almost sunrise, but for now the base was quiet, it was just the two of them in the halls and so Ghost did something unexpected. He pinned Soap up against a nearby wall, one hand on his waist and the other tugging up his mask just slightly so it sat on the bridge of his nose before his lips crashed down onto Soaps leaving him in shock as a slight gasp and whine slipped past his lips.

The kiss only lasted for a moment, less than a second even before he pulled away and tugged his mask back down but not before Soap caught a glance of a grin playing on Ghost's lips. “How’s that for thinkin’ for myself eh Johnny?”

And then he began to walk away.

Soap was left agape and blushing redder than a firetruck when Ghost walked away from him. “Bloody hell- Naeb’dys luck that that just happened right? Fuck meh.”

Ghost grinned from underneath his mask, the crinkle by his eyes gave that away as he looked over his shoulder and back towards Soap for a moment. “Ask nicely and I might.” And with that Ghost turned the corner and disappeared from Soap's sight, leaving the Scotsman more flustered than he was to begin with.

So of course once Soap was able to calm down and gather his thoughts he rushed into the nearest room- He simply needed someone to tell all of this to and at this point he didn't care who it was.

It was Roaches room that he ended up barging into at dark thirty in the morning, not that Soap cared what time it was anymore either. He was wide awake now and there wasn’t any chance that he was going to go to bed any time soon either.

Soaps accept was thicker than it had ever been as he took a spot on Roches bed and shook him awake. “Roach- Roach mate- Mo ghràidh!! gie yirsel a shake, bloody hell! I need somebody tae gab wi here mate, ah might juist explode otherwise! Come oan, please.”

Groggily Roach woke up after Soap shook him awake. His voice raspy and hair all a mess from just having been woken up as well. The sight caused another blush to rise to Soap's face but he quickly pushed it aside. “Fuckin hell man, what is it? People are still trying to sleep, not getting caught up in your schemes.”

Soap pouted and rolled his eyes. “Nae, nae that, nae schemes either- The lieutenant, thon wee bawbag kissed meh!”

At that Roach was sitting up in bed and seemed a lot more interested in what Soap was saying. “Wait- wait… You're talking crazy Johnny, I can barely understand ya mate… You're saying Ghost kissed ya?”

“Aye!!”

Roach chuckled, and shook his head as the sleep began to leave his body. “Well I’ll be damned- Is he any good?”

Soap openly blushed at that, which Roach noticed. “Aww the mighty MacTavish is blushing~ You like him then huh?”

“Oh shut ii Roach! I’m being serious here, the man kissed me! I didn't know he could do that-”

“What kiss people? He might be a killin’ machine but he’s still human, he’s still a guy.”

“Bloody hell, Gary! That's not the ficken point, I'm in crisis over here and you're having a laugh about it.”

“Course I am, you freaked out like this when I kissed ya drunk on new years- You're a decent kisser Johnny, expect the guy to come round for another one.”

Soap once again flushed red and then playfully pushed Roach away with a light glare and a huff. “You're an arse sometimes Roach, hope ye ken that.”

“Course I know that, I gotta be if i wanna be friends with you.”

Soap raised a teasing and mischievous eyebrow as he spoke next. “With all we do an’ we’re only friends? Here I thought we had something more going on than that~”

This time it was Roaches turn to blush, “Oh shut up! We can be friends and still something more at the same time- Now go chase after that lieutenant for us ye hear me?~ Somebody has to make the guy loosen up a bit and who better and a loose cannon and his boyfriend.”

A loud chuckle burst out of Soap's chest as he stole a quick kiss from Roach before moving to walk out of the room. “Aye sounds like the perfect plan.”

Yet as Soap moved to leave Roach pulled him back into his bed and it was obvious the two weren't going anywhere for quite awhile.

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

While Soap was having his time with Roach, Ghost on the other hand was having a slight breakdown. He kissed someone- Furthermore he kissed a guy, and not just any guy, a guy with a known boyfriend. Man did he have problems.

Yes, it was also known around base that Soap and Roach weren't in a closed relationship and Ghost never thought he was that type of guy. But damn him and damn Soap, the lad was a good kisser.

With a sigh he collapsed onto his bed, throwing his mask off onto his bedside table and tried for at least a few minutes of shuteye before it was time to be back on duty and training the rookies. Until it was time to be Ghost again. That short exchange in the hall with Soap was the most relaxed he’d been in months since his last leave and he was almost aching for it again.

Before he knew it though the sun was rising and it was time to be awake, it felt like he barely got any sleep as he dragged himself out of bed and pulled his mask back on before heading into the mess hall. He found a spot tucked away into a corner by himself with just a simple cuppa coffee before Johnny bound into the mess hall with his usual grin, his neck covered in illy hidden hickies.

The sight caused an unusual heat to rise to Ghosts face which caused him to scowl and tuck away further into his corner, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to punch something or drag Soap down by his collar and make him go dumb around him like he'd done with a few of his one night stands.

With a low growl he sipped on his coffee and sighed, he was at war with himself and didn't want to do anything to fix it.- Well that's not entirely true, he wanted to fix it, he just wasn't entirely sure how to, or even if the how was possible.

Yey of course as the fates would have it, Soap noticed him tucked away in his corner of solitude. So Soap and his ever boyish attitude he made his way over to Ghost and took the seat across from him, grinning mischievously and propped his head onto his hands, his elbows resting on the table. “Hey there lover boy”

Ghost blue screened for a moment and nearly choked on his coffee mid sip causing Soap to burst out into laughter.. “I- what??”

“Naethin but a joke, just thought it’d be fun to see your reaction after that stunt ye played earlier.”

Ghost blinked. And then blinked again before trying to focus his attention back onto his coffee. “I was out of line for that- Shouldn't have done it, was just tryin’ to prove a point, more than a dog on a leash an’ all.”

Soap merely shrugged, unbothered by Ghost's dismissal. “Ye got naethin tae worry aboot, been tryin to egg ye on fur ages now an’ Roach dinnae mind any about it no aen, lad was all jokes aboot it when I was freaking out this mornin’, want to compare note an’ what nae.”

A slight blush rose to Ghost face no matter how hard he tried to fight it as he simply stared at Soap, words almost failing to form. “You- Roach wanted to do what? Wait… You talked about me kissin ya? Didn’t think it was that big of a deal, wasn’t even my best work.”

Soap chuckled and shook his head slightly, “Nae naethin like that- Well, kinda actually… ye terrifying and if ye didnt already know it everybody thinks ye attractive juist naebody has the balls to make a move on ye.”

Ghost sat there mouth agape, and his blush darkened to the point it was finally noticeable and before he could respond Soap spoke up once more. “Meh and Roach are havin a movie night tonight, naething serious, just a bit o’fun, time to relax an’ all- ye mair than welcome to join us”

Ghost paused and swirled his coffee around in his mug for a moment or so, the two simply sat in silence for a couple minutes as Ghost thought before he spoke up. “What movie did you two pick?”

Soap grinned, “The Princess Bride, it's a timeless classic that ye cannae go wrong with- Got a projector fur the room an’ everything.”

Ghost nodded, placing down a now empty mug and then nugging down his mask once again. “We’ll see about it.” And with that he stood and quickly vanished from view, being the ghost he was known to be.

Soap rolled his eyes at the dramatics but he was giddy at the thought of Ghost possibly, maybe, showing up for movie night. He knew there was a slim chance that something would actually happen between him, Ghost and Roach but there was always that one percent of possibility and that's what Soap decided to focus on. He loved Roach but damn was Ghost enthralling.

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

The hours passed and the day went by as usual, Ghost was outside working the recruits half to death, terrorising another generation of soldiers. Soap wasn’t being a menace for once, he was working with Price on the logistics of certain types of explosions and trying to explain the maths of how each of them worked. And Roach, Roach was tucked away somewhere doing who knows what but at least everyone was staying out of trouble.

As the sun began to set on the day Soap ended up back in Roaches bed, tucked into his side (so sue the man if he liked being the little spoon on occasion) and the movie played on the wall. About 30 minutes or 45, neither were sure there was a slight knock on the door.

“Doors open!”

There was a pause, it seemed like a moment of hesitation but then the door opened and there stood Ghost. Instead of being dressed in his usual tactical gear he was wearing a black hoodie and a matching pair of sweatpants. Even his mask was more casual, this one only covered about half his face, showing off his hair- which was a dirty blonde and messier than you'd think possible.

“I’m still invited, yeah? Not too late am I? Couldn’t decide if I should show up or not-”

“Aye! Of course Ghosty! Plenty of room in the bed, come on in.”

Roach laughed softly at his boyfriend's excitement yet shifted slightly to accommodate for another person joining in their not so large bed. Ghost ended up nestled in between the two, Soaps legs were draped over his and Roach was nestled into the crook of his arm. It was… warm, comfortable even and the movie held a nice ambiance to the background.

The movie played and the three laid there cuddled together, a few teases and jabs here and there were exchanged but overall everything was peaceful and Ghost felt context for the first time in a very long time. As the credits began to roll Roach was falling asleep on Ghost, and Ghost had found himself absentmindedly playing with Soaps hair- No one dared mention that in case he’d stop upon being called out for being soft.

“Simon”

The other two looked up at Ghost as he spoke, the rumble of his chest when he talked rosing Roach enough to light a confused spark in their eyes. “Huh?”

“My name- It’s Simon… Don't use it too much though- Or in front of the rest of the team, but my name's Simon.”

Soap grinned, and Roach simply nestled back into Ghost's side but that didn't mean he didn't kiss Ghost's cheek first. “Pleasure tae meet ye then Simon~”

#cod #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #fluff #gaz cod #roach cod #poly 141 #gaz call of duty #gary roach sanderson #ghoap #ghoaproach #price #price x nikolai

34 notes · View notes