★

Basic words, you may need for everyday chit-chat

Hello - Здравствуй Zdravstvui

Hi - Привет Privet

Good morning \ day \ evening - Доброе утро \ добрый день \ добрый вечер Dobroe utro \ dobryi den' \ dobryi vecher

Goodbye (untill next time) - До свидания Do svidaniia

Bye - Пока Poka

Thank you - Спасибо Spasibo

You are welcome - Пожалуйста Pozhaluista

Yes \ yes of course - Да \ Конечно Da \ Konechno

No - Нет Net

Petnames

Genderless (can be used, referring to both men and women, depending on relationship dynamic):

Angel - Ангел Angel

My soul - Душа моя Dusha moia

Treasure - Сокровище Sokrovishche

Sun \ little sun - Солнце \ Солнышко Solntse \ Solnyshko

My joy - Радость моя Radost' moia

Love - Любовь Liubov'

My light - Мой свет Moi svet

My happiness - Счастье моё Schast'e moe

Dream - Мечта Mechta

Little cloud - Облачко Oblachko

Little fire - Огонёк Ogonek

Precious - Прелесть Prelest'

Heart - Сердце Serdtse

Little tiger - Тигрёнок Tigrenok

Wonder - Чудо Chudo

Feminine and masculine versions of petnames (Here you can add 'my' moia for feminine, moi for masculine versions of names)

Priceless - Бесценная \ Бесценный Bestsennaia \ Bestsennyi

Divine - Божественная \ Божественный Bozhestvennaia \ Bozhestvennyi

Peerless - Бесподобная \ Бесподобный Bespodobnaia \ Bespodobnyi

Gorgeous - Великолепная \ Великолепный Velikolepnaia \ Velikolepnyi

Delightful - Восхитительная \ Восхитительный Voskhititel'naia \ Voskhititel'nyi

Darling - Дорогая \ Дорогой Dorogaia \ Dorogoi

Precious - Драгоценная \ Драгоценный Dragotsennaia \ Dragotsennyi

The only one - Единственная \ Единственный Edinstvennaia \ Edinstvennyi

Desired - Желанная \ Желанный Zhelannaia \ Zhelannyi

Golden - Золотая \ Золотой Zolotaia \ Zolotoi

Affectionate - Ласковая \ Ласковый Laskovaia \ Laskovyi

Beloved - Любимая \ Любимый Liubimaia \ Liubimyi

Sweetheart - Милая \ Милый Milaia \ Milyi

Tender - Нежная \ Нежный Nezhnaia \ Nezhnyi

The one, I can't stop looking at (lovingly) - Ненаглядная \ Ненаглядный Nenagliadnaia \ Nenagliadnyi

Incredible - Невероятная \ Невероятный Neveroiatnaia \ Neveroiatnyi

Charming - Очаровательная \ Очаровательный Ocharovatel'naia \ Ocharovatel'nyi

Dear (often said to someone, you consider your family) - Родная \ Родной Rodnaia \ Rodnoi

Sweet - Сладкая \ Сладкий Sladkaia \ Sladkii

Good one - Хорошая \ Хороший Khoroshaia \ Khoroshii

Love confessions and stuff around that

I love you. - Я люблю тебя. Ia liubliu tebia.

I like you. - Ты мне нравишься. Ty mne nravish'sia.

I fell in love with you at first sight. - Я влюбился (if man says it) \ влюбилась (if woman) в тебя с первого взгляда. Ia vliubilsia \ vliubilas' v tebia s pervogo vzgliada.

I can not live without you. - Я не могу без тебя жить. Ia ne mogu bez tebia zhit'.

You drive me crazy. - Я схожу по тебе с ума. Ia skhozhu po tebe s uma.

I wanna be with you. - Я хочу быть с тобой. Ia hochu byt' s toboi.

I think about you constantly. - Я постоянно думаю о тебе. Ia postoianno dumaiu o tebe.

You are my only one. - Ты мой (if the partner is masculine) \ моя (if the partner is feminine) единственный\ая. Ty moi \ moia edinstvennyi\aia.

I really need you. - Ты мне очень нужна (f partner) \ нужен (m partner). Ty mne ochen' nuzhna \ nuzhen.

We were meant for each other. - Мы созданы друг для друга. My sozdany drug dlia druga.

I'm ready to do anything for you. - Я готов/а на все ради тебя. Ia gotov/a na vse radi tebia.

I'm never giving you to somebody. - Я тебя никому не отдам. Ia tebia nikomu ne otdam.

Dirty talking

I want you. - Я хочу тебя. Ia hochu tebia.

I'm all yours. - Я вся твоя \ весь твой. Ia vsia tvoia \ ves' tvoi.

Your body drives me crazy. - Твоё тело сводит меня с ума. Tvoe telo svodit menia s uma.

I want to feel your touch all over. - Хочу чувствовать твои руки везде. Hochu chuvstvovat' tvoi ruki vezde.

You can do anything you want today. - Тебе сегодня можно всё. Tebe segodnia mozhno vse.

Take me the way, you want to. - Возьми меня, как ты хочешь. Voz'mi menia, kak ty khochesh'.

I want to make you moan. - Хочу заставить тебя стонать. Hochu zastavit' tebia stonat'.

Give yourself to me completely. - Отдайся мне весь (to m partner)\ вся (to f partner), без остатка. Otdaisia mne ves' \ vsia, bez ostatka.

Show me, that I belong to you only. - Покажи мне, что я только твоя \ твой. Pokazhi mne, chto ia tol'ko tvoia \ tvoi.

What do you want to do to me? - Что ты хочешь со мной сделать? Chto ty hochesh' so mnoi sdelat'?

Don't stop. - Не останавливайся. Ne ostanavlivaisia.

I want to taste you. - Хочу попробовать тебя на вкус. Hochu poprobovat' tebia na vkus.

Swearing

Fuck (as an interjection) - Блять Bliat'

Fuck off - Отъебись Ot"ebis' (to one person), отъебитесь ot"ebites' (to a group of people)

Bloody hell - Ёбаный пиздец (NOT used during sex!!) Ebanyi pizdets

Bastard - Сволочь (applied to any gender) Svoloch'

Motherfucker - Ублюдок \ уебан Ubliudok \ ueban

Son of a bitch - Сукин сын Sukin syn

Asshole - Жопа \ задница. Zhopa \ zadnitsa.

Cunt \ Pussy - Пизда (This and next one can in theory be used in bed, but i really strongly recommend you to NOT) Pizda

Cock \ Dick - Хуй Hui

Cultural extras to get in the mood

I sometimes meet this take, that Russian, as well as German language, sounds menacing or harsh. And as much as I understand, that it is subjective perception, I have something to add: you can modulate Russian speech as well as any other. You can sound like softest softie, coo and purr in Russian, if you want. Here is a good example: a guy just reads a poem, but you try and tell me, he is not straight seducing you.

Very nice perspective on how non-tourist Russia looks like. The guy travels to places, that still look and feel like USSR and somehow manages to survive. Don't mind him rambling, how good was soviet life - he doesn't mean it, he just says whatever people, he meets, would love to hear.

Another good channel to explore non-tourist Ru and some extreme weathers. Don't worry, there are no jumpscares and nothing scary happens on the videos.

Russian winter is a tricky one, because -40 С in Yakutsk can sometimes feel softer as -20 in Moscow. Humidity and wind are the keys.

No, vodka is not the only alcohol option) You can write a Ru character, that despises vodka and it will be 100% legit.

If you need domestic and interior references to Nikolais youth in soviet Ru - I can recommend HBOs Chernobyl series. An accuracy and attention to domestic details there is so great that it gets uncanny sometimes.

your head is spinning, the world around you a haze as your eyes fight to regain focus. there's a constant ringing in your ears, deafening you, and you wince once the pounding in the back your skull becomes apparent.

everything slowly begins to come back to you. the operation in al mazrah, the warning from HQ, the explosion, the floor collapsing below your feet. you're laying on your back now, aching from head to toe. the building that you were in with soap and gaz is reduced to rubble, lying in pieces around you.

you manage to turn your head to the left and see soap laying motionless a few feet away. farther away is gaz, struggling to push what used to be a metal support beam off his trapped leg. you blink furiously at the pair, trying to clear the dust and sand out from your eyes, and breathe a ragged sigh of relief at the subtle rise and fall of soap's chest. you attempt to call out to gaz, but all that leaves your throat is a weak noise and a wheezing cough.

price and ghost are probably on their way already. you just need to wait for them. the mission was doomed from the start, you all know that, but it won't end in your deaths so long as you hold out.

the ringing in your ears slowly fades, and you can hear footsteps approaching from your right. it was a small group, judging by the heavy footfall - had price and ghost found help somehow?

you carefully turn again, expecting to be greeted by the familiar sight of your teammates. the harsh midafternoon sun sits in that direction, forcing you to squint in the bright light as you try to make out the group of silhouettes.

the first sign of trouble was gaz's panicked shout of your name. the person in the front of the pack blocks the sun's light upon reaching you, casting shadows in their path and finally allowing you to glimpse at their face. you blink again, angling your head to identify the person hovering over you. it takes several seconds for your foggy mind to recognize them but, when it does, your blood runs cold.

makarov.

⋆⋆⋆

you're woken up by someone shaking your shoulder, a gentle voice calling out to you. with a whine, akin to a child being disturbed by their mother in the morning before school, you bat their hand away and force your eyes open.

"y'not get enough sleep last night, lieutenant?" gaz asks, sitting on the couch next to you. the harsh fluorescent lights on the ceiling make you squint and rub at your tired eyes for relief. "bad dream?" he adds a second later, taking note of your dazed state.

"yeah, just a bad dream. nothin' to worry about." you assure him with a downturned smile. according to the watch on your wrist, it was ten o' clock. you'd be setting out for al mazrah in about half an hour.

gaz woke you up for the mission, you realize. soap was located nearby, occupying himself with last-minute gear checks, and ghost soon enters the room with his arms full of supply crates. anything from ammunition to water and food was packed in, ready to be loaded into the transport helicopter that you'd be taking into the city. price was hunched over a table filled with scattered maps, blueprints, and gathered intel from your allies in the city.

"alright, let's go over the mission one last time. this needs to be a clean operation - we've got no room for error." price stands straight and glances around the room, personally scrutinizing each of you. the four of you gather around the table alongside the captain, the fatigue quickly dissipating as you focus on his words.

"the city's a mess right now; there’s civilians in the north, enemies to the south, and allies scattered in the wind." price flattens a map of the city with various locations circled and marked against the tabletop. "ghost and myself will offload with the supplies in the north. petra, gaz, and soap will touch down in the east and make their way south to the target building. once we're done up north, we'll link up with our allies in the city center and secure the district surrounding you."

price nods towards you and the sergeants. "should buy you enough time to get the job done."

"we'll do it in half the time," gaz boasts with a self-assured grin, crossing his arms over his chest. soap mirrors his confidence, and both earn pointed looks from yourself and the other two men.

"there's a reason you three are working together on this," price says. he pulls a cigar from one of his vest pockets and rolls it between his thumb and forefinger - a nervous habit you picked up on a long time ago. "you sergeants are fast and damn good at clearing a place out, but if left unchecked, you get yourselves into trouble. petra's good at keeping you two in line, so you're going in together."

"we're a small team in contested territory, it's essential that we have each other's backs." ghost speaks up, sending the two a cursory glance. the sergeants nod, and you continue to listen as price details the rest of the plan.

⋆⋆⋆

the helicopter ride to the city was almost relaxing enough to lull you back to sleep. keyword: almost.

a little while after takeoff, laswell's voice comes through your radios, claiming to have some new intel. you assumed it would be something related to the ground forces, be it enemy or ally, until the word missile echoes throughout the cabin.

price attempted to pry more information out of her, only to be shot down - "i don't know" was all she had to offer in response to his questions. laswell's never been one to panic, even in the face of sure death, but the concern in her voice was palpable. if her intel was accurate, than there was a missile being prepped to launch, and its target was the very city you were fighting in.

you've never seen the team look so solemn during a landing. laswell assured you that she was working to locate and disarm the threat, but she could make no guarantees. you couldn't back out, either; the mission was too important to abandon now. as you disembark alongside soap and gaz, price gives each of you a single bullet from his handgun.

"for luck," he said.

as you stealth your way through eerily silent city streets with the sergeants in tow, you ponder on his choice of words. the bullet sits safe and sound with the rest of the ammo for your own sidearm, ready to be loaded in case of an emergency. if it comes down to your final bullet, though, you might as well consider yourself dead.

after some time and several blocks, you locate the target building. it's a high-rise, a sore thumb sticking out against the surrounding local businesses and low-rise buildings, making it easy for your group to identify it.

"captain, we've got the building in sight," you say into your radio. soap and gaz peak out from your current hiding spot, studying the security and forming their own plan to infiltrate. the two are the team's resident experts on CQB - if anyone can fight their way into enemy territory without breaking a sweat, it's them.

the thought allows you to take a calming breath and relax your tense shoulders.

"solid copy. we just finished up here, so we'll be headed your way soon." price replies. you can hear idle chatter in the background, likely the civilians. "we'll talk again once we're close or you reach the target. whichever happens first."

"copy all, sir." you silence your radio and follow the sergeants' gazes, eyes landing on the building again. considering your objective, the security detail was lacking in numbers. either a fake-out to make you lower your guard or a result of the incoming missile, you presume. no matter what the reason may be, you hold your gun close and try to keep your head clear.

"what exactly is the target that we're going after, l.t.?" soap mutters from next to you, tearing his eyes away from the scene. you shake your head before turning to him.

"did you not listen to the debrief, soap?"

"i did, but price never said what we were goin' after!"

"he totally did, dude. you just weren't listening." gaz perks up, prompting the former to stutter over his words to make a defense. after a minute of bickering between the two, you shush them.

"we're just screwing with you, soap," you concede, giving him a comforting pat on the shoulder. "price told me what it was earlier. some kind of scrambling device that's been screwing with people's tech and causing periodic blackouts. we need to deal with it before it causes something worse than a communications loss."

gaz lets out an amused huff. "yeah, like a helicopter fallin' out of the sky."

"actually, i'm pretty sure it's just you falling 'outta the sky." soap chuckles, earning a lighthearted glare from gaz. you shush the two again and start towards the building, sticking to the shadows so as to avoid being spotted.

it takes no time at all to dispatch the guards surrounding the entrance, and soon you're methodically clearing out the ground floor alongside the sergeants. gaz takes point, whilst you stay in the middle and soap follows close behind. the enemy forces appear to be disorganized, you notice after moving up to the second level. they're wearing mismatched gear and using guns of vastly different origins; some even appear to speak different languages. you catch pieces of arabic and russian amidst the group, but what really shakes you is the english that you hear.

"are some of these fuckers american?" soap asks from behind you, looking over a tango he dropped moments prior.

"appears so," you mutter, examining another body near your feet. he wasn't wearing any sort of identification, so you had no way of figuring out what PMC he could be affiliated with. "they're not shadow company, at least. graves may be a bastard, but he's got his own vendetta against these guys."

"could be random mercenaries - guns for hire, y'know." gaz says with a shrug, clearly unconvinced of his own suggestion.

you hum, rising from your crouched position next to the body. "been seeing more of those popping up recently. wouldn't surprise me if al-qatala hired some of them as security." you refocus and motion for the two to get back in formation, nodding towards the stairs nearby.

"device should be on the sixth floor. let's pick up the pace."

the third and fourth floors are relatively the same: rooms full of randomly assorted, underprepared mercenaries that struggle to communicate with each other. you expected to find the same on the fifth floor, only to be stopped again by a peculiar logo taped above a set of office doors.

a snake skull with a sword. konni. you were aware of their presence in the city, even fighting some in this very building, but the logo stood out to you for some odd reason. with an affirmative nod sent to your teammates, you move to investigate it. at best, you'd find new intel about their operations, and at worst, you'd have another room to empty out.

upon opening the set of double doors and carefully entering, though, you come face-to-face with something far worse.

"holy fuck... is this all gas?" gaz mumbles, standing to your left.

the meeting room is filled floor-to-ceiling with gas containers, bright red barrels marked with konni's logo and cyrillic script plastered across their fronts. you take a closer look at the letters and, with the extremely limited knowledge of russian that you've gained from price and nikolai, manage to work out what they say.

"it's the same stuff zakhaev used in verdansk a few years ago," you glance towards the sergeants. you try to disguise your gradually creeping apprehension behind a firm look, rubbing the back of your neck as a bead of sweat rolls down into your shirt collar.

soap steps forward, taking a closer look at the stock. "wasn't zakhaev the one supplying it, though? i thought price took him out."

you sigh, wiping the sweat off your glove against the front of your thigh. "i think he had a supplier, but even if he was making it himself, that isn't stopping someone else from producing more. konni's probably buying it from whomever that is."

"wonder who that could be." gaz says, turning his attention to the large window at the far side of the room.

you open your mouth to reply, but soap beats you to it. "everyone in this situation is friends with makarov, right? price and laswell said he was gettin' active again."

the name sends an uneasy chill down your spine. you've never met the man yourself, but based on what price had to say about him, you're thankful you haven't. if he's working behind the scenes, than you need to be careful. any small mistake could end in disaster.

again, you try to respond, and again, you're interrupted. "uh– y'guys might want to look at this." gaz calls out over his shoulder.

your gaze turns to the sight outside that he was vaguely motioning towards. a bright light sits somewhere in the distance, quickly growing in size and luminosity. you squint, trying to figure out what the light could be coming from, until you remember laswell's warning.

the missile had fired.

"steamin' bloody jesus..." soap utters under his breath, snapping you back to the present.

"we need to find cover - fast!" you usher the two back from the glass and out of the room, sprinting down the stairs three steps at a time. although laswell didn't have much in the way of information, she did provide the team with a key piece of intel: there were bunkers constructed throughout the city, installed before the ballistic missile containers were offloaded in the area. one such bunker was located a short distance from the building you're currently in.

if you hurry, you might be able to make it.

as you descend, you can hear voices steadily drawing closer. gaz and soap hear it as well, and you all prepare your guns upon reaching the second floor.

as expected, there's a group waiting for you when you arrive. you take cover and try to thin out the crowd, but each second ticking by only serves to increase your level of impatience. eventually, you pull a flash grenade off your belt and toss it into the crowd, giving yourself and the sergeants a chance to finish off the remaining soldiers.

the three of you make another break for the exit. as the light outside the windows of the building grows blinding and a deafening explosion is heard, though, you wonder if you could have done something different. the floors above collapse and crash into your team, destroying the floors below you and knocking you off your feet.

somewhere in the chaos, your world goes dark.

⋆⋆⋆

when you come to, your head is spinning. there's a pounding in the back of your skull, muted thumps amidst the violent ringing in your ears. you blink away tears and dust, fighting to make your eyes focus as everything slowly falls into place around you.

you didn't make it to the bunker before the missile hit. gaz and soap are somewhere in this rubble with you - alive or dead, you're not sure. your body aches, muscles screaming at you as you try to move, forcing a pathetic wheezing cry from your lips.

after some struggle, you manage to turn your head to the left. laying several feet away is soap, covered in pieces of rubble and fighting to stay awake, blood pouring from an open wound on his head. farther away is gaz, desperately trying to get his leg free from under a broken metal beam. you call out to them, but all you can muster is a pained noise that leaves you coughing.

midafternoon sunlight beats down on you. price and ghost are somewhere else in the city, and you pray that they're still alive. it's all you can hope for at this point, considering your inability to move.

you hear voices drawing closer. heavy boots stomping through the sand and rubble, footsteps uniform yet distinct from one another. price, ghost, and your allies in the city immediately cross your mind, making you let out a relieved sigh.

when you look to your right, however, the silhouettes are distinctly different from what you expected to see. instead of your teammates, you see a group in familiar, yet unfamiliar, clothing and gear. you try to piece together what you recognize despite the fog in your brain.

when gaz's shout of your real name pierces your ears, it suddenly comes to you. pictures that price and laswell acquired from her global counterparts flood your mind, and you realize that you're looking at a group of ultranationalist soldiers. konni's leader and supplier, al-qatala's strongest ally, and the group that he leads with an iron fist.

ignoring the immense pain as a fresh wave of adrenaline courses through your system, you scramble for your sidearm. the last fight and the building collapse made you lose your rifle and drained you of most of your ammo, but you still had the bullet that you loaded into your handgun before the missile hit.

price's bullet.

one shot is all it should take.

you reach for your holster, but find nothing in its place. you frantically feel around the nearby area, searching for it, but still come up empty-handed. you lost your handgun in the crash and had nothing to defend yourself with. as the group nears, the reality of your situation dawns on you.

your luck had run out.

the leader of the pack blocks the harsh sunlight, casting shadows across your body as he stands over you. slowly, your eyes adjust to the change in light. you blink up at him, feeling a pang in your chest and a pit in your stomach form once his face becomes clear.

makarov.

taglist: @sofasoap, @rohansregret, @lonesome-doves, @roosterr (ty for being the reason i wrote this lol)

“Did I stutter?” you asked, pressing your hand against Zeke’s back.

He wore a plain black v-neck that clung to his body. You couldn’t help but touch him in some way. You dragged your thumb down his spine. He shivered and you yanked your hand away.

He paused and turned to you, eyes filled with concern.. “Is there something on my back?”

“… Me? I was.”

“Oh. I thought a small animal was crawling on me.”

“I mean… It might as well have been.”

He shook his head. “No, I pictured like a small deer.”

“How high are you?”

He sprinkled weed into a rolling paper. “Not high enough.”

You peeked over his shoulders to get a view of his nimble fingers.

“Shit,” he whispered. 

You were wrong to assume he would retain his dexterity. The joint looked folded rather than rolled.

“Are you gonna be okay?” you asked.

You were legitimately not sure. It pained you to lack faith, but his jumbled hands were hardly promising.

“I—I don’t know. I really… I don’t know,” he sighed.

“Do you, like…” Your brain grew slower by the second. “Like, do you need...”

“Help?”

“Yeeeeaaaaaah,” you drawled. The word melted out of your mouth.

Zeke sighed and unfolded the joint.

“I’ll be fine. I got this. I’m going to do great. I just have to pretend that these are my own hands.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Sweetie, those are your hands.”

“I’m well aware. They don’t feel like mine though.”

You didn’t say anything. Nothing you said would quell his anxiety. You rubbed his back, massaging your thumbs between his shoulder blades. A muted groan wriggled free from the depths of his chest.

“Fuck. That feels good.”

You let your hands roam past his shoulders, down his chest. You started to tug at his shirt.

His calloused hand grabbed your wrist. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Take it off,” you purred.

“Why?”

He went back to rolling the joint. He had greater success this time around. The joint was actually conical in shape. Not a depressingly flat rectangle.

“I don’t know. It’ll be fun?” You didn’t have a good reason, but it wasn’t like you needed one. You just wanted him as close to naked as possible. “Please humor me,” you continued. “I made the brownies. The least you could do is walk around shirtless.”

He shook his head and handed you the joint over his shoulder.

“Please?” you begged.

“This is demeaning,” he said, smirking.

He stood up and proceeded to take off his shirt. You stared at his god-like figure, unable to hide your lust. He blushed.

“Here.” He handed his shirt to you. “To my biggest fan.”

You held it like it was an Oscar. “Wow. This is truly a moment in history. People will be talking about this forever.”

“I can’t wait for the retrospective article in ten years.”

“Oh, it’s going to be incredible. I’m going to overanalyze this moment so fucking hard.”

“Heh. Hard.”

“Seriously?”

“What?” He sat down beside you and put his head on your shoulder. “Are you going to light that?”

You looked at the joint in your hand. “Did you hand me this?”

“No.”

You rolled your eyes and held the joint between your lips, ready to light it.

“Wrong end, pet.”

You looked down and noticed you were two centimeters from fucking everything up.

“Thank you.” You proceeded to light the joint properly. You took a long drag and let the smoke drift from your mouth. “That’s good.”

You handed the joint to Zeke. He took a hit and exhaled, tossing his head back.

“It’s awful.” He hit it again, longer this time.

“Really? Awful, huh?”

“The worst weed I’ve smoked.”

“Can I?” You reached for the joint but he held it out of reach.

“No, no, no. It’s horrible after a couple hits. You wouldn’t like it.”

You stretched yourself over his lap trying to grab the joint. He laughed at your pitiful attempt. You looked like you were body surfing.

“Alright, fine. Since you’re so desperate.” He pulled on the back of your shirt, lifting you up. Rather than body surfing you now looked like a sea lion performing for a snack. He held the joint to your face and you inhaled eagerly.

“That’s good shit. It smells nice.” You took another hit. Zeke let go of your shirt and gently laid you back down on his lap.

“I was definitely expecting something disgusting. But I always expect something disgusting, don’t I?… I’m gross. I’m a garbage man. Don’t look at me.”

“I wasn’t. I can’t from this angle.” 

You were in fact facing away from him.

“Good. You shouldn’t look at someone like me. I’m… Ugh.”

“Are you going to be okay? Like, seriously? I’m concerned-ish.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He finally took a hit. “I just don’t understand why I was born, that’s all.”

You flipped over so you could look up at him. He gazed down at you.

“Please don’t look at me from this angle. You can see right up my nose.”

“You’re so self-conscious.” You sat up and started to toy with his hair.

“I don’t know what’s up there… My secrets could start leaking out.”

“You’re such a weenie. Gimme that.”

Zeke didn’t protest. He relinquished the joint. You took a drag and an idea hit you like a sledgehammer.

“Shotgun.”

“Oh, no. I cannot drive anywhere.”

“No, Zeke, I’m not calling ‘shotgun’. I’m saying shotgun. As in, ‘Let's shotgun this weed.’”

He looked at you like a perplexed puppy. He clearly didn’t understand.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god.” 

You took another hit off the joint and turned his head towards yours. You placed your lips on his. You slowly breathed the smoke into his mouth. You pulled away and he exhaled. He met your eyes, but averted your gaze soon after.

“Don’t look at me.”

“You’re so sensitive.”

“It’s like you’re judging everything I do.”

You hit the joint. “What? No. I am totally staring at you and shit, but not out of judgment. More out of, like, I’m a huge pervert or whatever.”

He gave you an impish grin. You fucked up. You shouldn’t have admitted to such a thing.

“Is that why you wanted my shirt off?”

“Yes.”

“Excuse me.” He stood up like he was giving a presentation and pulled off his grey sweatpants revealing his navy blue briefs. You were entranced by his shapely thighs. “Is this what you wanted?” He did a 360 degree turn so you could get a good look at his body.

“Hmm. Not quite.” You took a hit.

“What do I need to do?”

“You still have socks on.”

He took them off. You hit the joint again.

“Glasses,” you purred, letting the smoke roll out of your mouth.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

He took them off and placed them on the coffee table.

“Undies.”

He went to take them off, but stopped. “Hold on! Wait a minute. Nope. What is this?” It was like he woke up from a dream.

“Sorry, I took it too far. Let me get on your level. It’s only fair. Here. Finish this.”

You passed Zeke the rest of the joint. There wasn’t much left at this point. You shed all your clothes minus your bra and underwear.

“Alright.” He held the joint in his mouth and stripped off his underwear.

“Whoa! You, uh. I was kidding…” You paused and let your eyes wander down his body. “For the most part.”

His erect cock stared you down. Beautifully veiny with a pleasant pink hue, framed by trimmed blond pubic hair. It was picturesque.

You clasped your hands. “I swear every time I see it feels like the first time.”

The smug fucker smirked and finished off the joint. He stubbed it out in the ashtray on the table.

“You gonna take care of it?”

You nodded and quickly undressed. He walked over to you, stroking himself, as you reclined on the couch like a lounging goddess. You outstretched your arms and pulled him into your embrace. You kissed him, shoving your tongue into his mouth without warning. He hesitated for a moment but quickly reciprocated. He was operating on a slight delay. You felt the tip of his cock gently prod your glistening cunt.

“Not yet,” you murmured. “Go down on me.”

He lowered himself, leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach. He pulled down your underwear. He traced his tongue down your folds. His beard tickled your thighs. A small moan left your lips. You held his head in place, letting your fingers get tangled in his hair.

“Pull on it,” he demanded as he bit on the inside of your thigh. 

You clutched a chunk of his hair and pulled. He let out a voracious groan and gave your clit long, languid licks. A whiny moan burst past your lips.

You paused. “Shit. Was that loud?”

He stopped and looked up at you. “No. At least I don’t think so. Why? Did you hear something?”

“No… At least I don’t think I did.”

You stared at each other. The fear began to take hold.

“Hold on,” Zeke said in a comically authoritative tone.

He stood up and slowly approached the door.

“Do not open the door. You’re scary hard right now,” you hissed.

“I’m not gonna open it. I… am gonna glance through the peephole.”

He peered through the hole. And there was nothing. Not a soul.

“Oof. We’re losing it, pet.”

He walked over to you and went back to work as if nothing happened. He swirled his tongue around your clit, this time applying more pressure. He wanted to hear you cry out his name.

“Oh fuck, Zeke. Don’t stop!”

He didn’t. Waves of pleasure came over you. You bucked your hips against his mouth. You craved penetration; you felt like you would perish without it.

“Need your cock,” you mewled.

He lifted himself up and lorded over your body, leaving you in the shadow of his. He pushed two of his rough fingers inside your dripping cunt

“You’re so wet,” he said, curling his fingers and pressing the pads of them up against your walls. “And so easy. I thought I might have to work for it considering you’re high.”

“Don’t be mean,” you whimpered.

“Then don’t make it so much fun,” he replied before lightly biting your neck.

His hot breath against your skin was driving you wild.

“Do you want my cock inside you?”

You nodded, your eyes wide and needy.

“Say it. Say you want my cock inside you.”

“I want your cock inside me. Please.”

“Attagirl,” he grunted as he guided his cock inside you.

Once it was fully ensheathed he began to thrust. His balls clapped against your taint as he picked up the pace, his tip pressing up against your cervix.

“Fuck!” you yelped.

Zeke angled your hips upward and drove his cock into you. Ecstasy flooded your core. He held you closer to his body, his thrusts growing in urgency. His breathing labored. He caressed your breasts, his long fingers pinching your nipple.

“I’m close,” he choked out. His grey eyes were hazy with arousal.

“You can wait,” you exhaled.

He groaned and continued to plunge his length into you. His fingernails dug into your hips, adding to your bliss. You grabbed onto his ass and rutted up against him. Your orgasm overwhelmed you and left you seeing stars. You felt like you were hovering above the couch, your pleasure letting you defy the laws of gravity. Though that was probably the weed more than your orgasm.

“Open your mouth. Now,” he commanded, releasing you from the mindless rapture you were lost in.

You did as you were told, getting into position. You hungrily sucked on his cock, milking every drop of cum from him. It flooded your mouth, trickles of it spilling down your chin and onto your chest.

 “Such a messy little thing, aren’t you?”

You wiped your mouth and tried to stifle a laugh. “Not my fault you shoot a huge load.”

He grabbed his shirt and tenderly cleaned you up.

“What the fuck, Zeke?”

He tossed the shirt aside and gave you a confused look, eyebrows raised.

“What did I do?”

“You just got cum all over my award.”

You both stared at the dejected black shirt crumpled on the floor.

“My bad, pet,” he said, scratching behind his ear.

The fact that you were bare under the skimpy cover of blankets wasn't of any help either. From the corner of your forcefully peeled open eye, you noticed a chain of clothes thrown at the floor with no care and left there for the duration of the night - they were yours, most likely. Out of the two of you, only you were too hungry for a cock to mind the orderliness. Not that he was against this, anyway.

As you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up straight, ready to venture out into the cold of the room, his hand caught your wrist.

"Where are you running off to?" the strain in his voice took a feigned hurt as he pulled your wrist towards him in an attempt to make you fall back into the enveloping yet poor warmth of the bed, "Away from me?"

You turned your head to see him and there he was - lying on the creased soiled sheets, most of the blanket on his side yet bunched up at his hips and barely covering his toned stomach and thighs. His eyes have been on you all that time. So strange to meet his gaze without the barrier of glass lenses. Icy blue and bright, there was not a shadow of drowsiness to them as he took in your naked form. How long has he been awake?

Prying your hand away from him and standing up, you retorted with a huff, "Well, since you were the last to fall asleep and failed to close the window last night, I'm doing it in your stead right now"

The corner of his lips curled at such a toothless rebuke. As you were nearing the window, he changed his position rolling on his side to keep his unbroken gaze on you. Anticipating to capture each one of your careful movements as you trotted lightly on your tiptoes across cold floor.

Sometimes you found yourself baffled by his affection for you and its enviable consistency. Under no light did you ever not captivate him. Like a moth to a flame - it blinded him to the prospects of all possible negative implication that your relationship may and would inevitably bring. After all, in the eyes of everyone you're merely comrades. And comradery didn't exactly entail fucking each other all throughout the night till dawn.

Even now, you couldn't comprehend his lingering gaze. Your body was far from clean - littered with spit stains from his far-from-careful kisses and sticky with sweat, especially on your inner thighs where some of his seed leaked from you - yet he still looked. Consumed, even. Or perhaps it was just him reveling in the fruits of his efforts from this night that evidently by no means were in vain.

"Shame, I thought I made sure that you had no strength in you left to rise to your feet and close the window in the morning," the ice in his eyes began to melt with sun rays spilling over his face. "Not what I was hoping for. "

Your eyebrow quirked in curiosity, "In a freezing room with an open window you were not expecting me to close it," you swallowed a mischievous smile. "What were you hoping for, then?"

Zeke retorted in a blank expression, almost aloof, "You know exactly what I was hoping for."

"You're expecting too much from the likes of me, Captain Yeager," you shot back, barely holding back a grin from splitting your face and stooping to a level lower than his.

Ah, insufferable as ever, almost annoyed with your feigned lack of gumption. He'd never say the words first and neither would you.

"Why are you awake in the first place?" you asked instead of carriying on with you taunts, "and at such early hour, no less?"

Drowsiness was still weighing on you as your jaw went numb with each yawn you were desparately trying to stifle, yet he didn't seem to be affected by an abrupt stop of his sleep at all.

Zeke answered with strange poise and affection, "You were thrashing around in your sleep, I thought something might be wrong." He broke off eye contact, seemingly not interested to see your reaction as if his explanation bore little significance.

"And how long have you been awake?"

Zeke pursed his lips for a moment, clearly disgruntled with the recent turn of the conversation, "An hour for certain."

Your mind in its eternal frivolousness convieniently generated images of Zeke lying by your side, watchful over your sleep whilst neglecting his. Did he simply stare? Or put his hands on your body in a subliminal attempt to lull your uneasy mind with his touch? And did your body respond? The warm knot in your stomach traveled to the tips of your ears.

Oblivious to his annoyance, you cracked an endearing smile as you continued to stand near the window leaning on its sill, "I didn't know you were a light sleeper." with your gaze you try to meet his eyes, hopelessly averted from you, "Is it a recent development or have you been like this since childhood?"

"Since my childhood," the tone of his voice falling to never heard before depths.

Shadows grew on his cheeks and bridge of the nose as Zeke clenched his jaw and frowned. Then, he looked at you - now, without his glasses, he eyes seemed even more raw than usual.

Only now did you realize that in this mindless exchange you may have overstepped with your remarks. You hoped he's not too upset with you for your stupi curiosity. The tackiness on your inner thighs stirred your mind with new force as your eyes finally caught a glimpse of the door to the bathroom.

Still naked and very much freezing, you moved past his bed to the bathroom picking up your discarded clothes on the way, "I have a shift early in the morning so I better start getting ready." you muttered as you were closing the door, "Besides, i don't wanna stay up to late to let everybody in the internment zone see how i frequent your place."

As hot streams washed over you warming up your cold extremities, you let your mind wander in the nice sensation. You found comfort - if not twisted pleasure - in the knowledge that you may not restrict yourself in your usage of hot water since it's Zeke who would be paying the bill. For an honorary Marleyan it wouldn't be a grave expense. And strictly speaking, he also bore part of the blame for your disheveled state and would gladly fuck you to the same state all over again. The memories from previous night coiled up in you as you voiced a slight discontent at the fact that you wouldn't have time for this today anyway.

The air in the room was thick with steam and scent of cheap soap by the time you were done cleaning up. All the muscles in your body, previously tense, grew more and more relaxed after the heat treatment. Whilst standing in front of the mirror inspecting your face neck in search of any damning evidence of passionate sex, you nearly lost yourself.

So much so, that you failed to heat the sound of the door handle turning and hinges creaking. By the time you noticed Zeke, he'd already snaked his arms around your waist, beard prickling at your shoulder as he rested his chin on it.

"When does your shift start exactly?" a whisper poured into your ear.

You were thankful that he - unlike you - was already dressed, lest the laughably small space between your bodies would be too unnbearable, "In two hours but it's on the other side of the internment zone."

You shot up your eyes to the mirror. In there you could see Zeke's form towering over you yet desparate to envelope your fresh body. A low hum vibrated through your skin all the way to your heart. There's still time, you had the insolence to assume Zeke's thought process. Though it was pretty obvious that he was extremely pleased with this fact as he weighed down on you even more, his eyes closing.

A soft chuckle escaped your throat at the utter lack of personal space he's granted you, "But i still have to get ready," your mindful words failed to repell him.

As he lifted up his head, from the corner of your eye you could notice his unblinking gaze locked on your features, "Even in your sleep you're very beautiful," he said with an unwavering calmness to his voice, "So tranquil. Even the sniffles you make are adorable."

Constricted from movement in the cradle of his posessive embrace, you can do nothing but to look at him through the mirror's reflection. The most neutral expression was painted on his features, as if the words falling from his lips weren't radiating almost intoxicating level of endearment.

The curiosity got the better of you, "Was it the first time for you? Watching me?"

His hot breath fanning over the shell of your ear, you felt his lips pressing against your temple. The warmth spreading in your chest made it hard to make a single inhale.

"Every time you stay, you wake me up and i watch you till i fall asleep again," confession rolling off his lips so easily.

Suddenly you felt so overflowing with tenderness, it was making you numb. Laying your head back against your shoulder, you looked back at his eyes. Without the glasses, their gaze felt even warmer, the heat radiating on your features.

"Rudy…" you trailed off, sucking in air through your teeth as you watched him admire himself in the mirror, a goofy smile plastered on his face. "I think it's the underwear that's not doing it for me."

You meant that innocently, of course. Imagining him in his normal clothes with the hat was way more attractive than whatever was going on right now, but by the way he turned towards you with a sparkle in his eye and his hands resting on his hips right above the elastic band of said underwear, he'd clearly taken it the dirty way.

"Oh? So you'd rather me without them?"

Your face went warm, rolling your eyes and turning around in your shared bed, clicking your tongue in annoyance. "You know I didn't mean it like that. Take it off and come to bed."

"Aguafiestas." He grumbled, balancing the hat carefully on top of the full length mirror before adjusting his underwear, climbing back into bed per request and wrapping his arms around you instantaneously. "My father told me that mom took one look at him in that hat and fell head over heels for him!"

"Yeah? Well your father lied, Rudy. Go to sleep."

"Ay, cómo me hieres, mi vida."

A few weeks passed before you saw him wear the damned hat again. It hung on the mirror where he'd left it, and it didn't move until some of his family came over to his house to celebrate one of his niece's birthdays, since of course, uncle Rudy had the biggest house and was always willing to have his family come over.

You were very fond of his family, as were they towards you, so you had no problem with them celebrating at your place since it was always a whole lot of fun, and you could just snuggle with your husband on one of the chairs they put outside and sip on a beer while chatting away with his relatives.

And that's exactly what you were doing, sitting on Rudy's lap in one of the plastic chairs his brother had brought over, running your fingers through his hair while he worked on finishing his second beer and entertained his smallest nephew, who's current fixation was apparently cowboys. And as luck would have it, Rudy was one (well, a self proclaimed one, you doubted he and Alejandro actually did any horse riding or used lassos back at base.), and the small boy had immediately taken a liking to him after his father had redirected him towards you both, no doubt wanting to get some peace with his own wife.

"And you wear hats? Like the movies?" The boy spoke, waving his hands around his head to further his point, gasping as Rudy nodded and slapped a hand down onto your thigh, your immediate response being to hit him in the chest.

"Así es. Shoot guns, too."

"Woah!" The little boy had sparkles in his eyes, which only brightened when his grandma came over and placed a hand on Rudy's shoulder, gesturing towards the house.

"How about you go show him the hat? I'm sure your dad would like to see you wear it too."

"Dale, ahora vuelvo." He grinned, pressing a kiss to your cheek (you didn't miss the cheeky look in his eye) before sliding out from under you, rushing back inside.

"He told me you fell for his dad as soon as you saw the hat." You commented over to his mother, taking the almost empty beer Rudy had left and finishing it off.

She snorted, waving her hand at you dismissively. "Ay, no, he looked ridiculous in it. Just didn't have the heart to tell him."

You deadpanned at her, not believing your ears. "So why'd you give it to Rudy?" You whined, making her laugh.

"Thought I'd enjoy seeing you suffer a bit, mija."

You threw your head back in exasperation, hitting it against the hard plastic of the chair as soon as you saw Rudy return with the hat on, whistling and compliments erupting from everyone as he quite basically sauntered back over to you, lifting you up and taking back his rightful spot with you on his lap, an unamused look on your face.

After entertaining his nephew for a bit, he turned back to you, arms wrapped around your waist and a sweet smile on his lips, his hands stroking at the warm skin your clothes didn't cover. "Ay, come on, it can't be that bad."

Well… he wasn't wrong. Although it still clashed a bit with the clothes he was currently wearing, you couldn't lie that it didn't look horrible on him, at least it wasn't one of the Mariachi hats you'd seen hung up at his dad's house the last time you went over.

You raised a hand to cup his cheek, face growing warm as he immediately leaned into you, eyes fluttering closed and a soft sigh leaving him, relaxing under your touch.

"It's… not awful." You murmured, bringing his face closer so you could press a short kiss to the tip of his nose. "Mi vaquero."

He laughed, tilting his head up to kiss you properly, pulling back after a bit and smiling. "Eso es, tu vaquero."

You spent the remaining hours of the night like that, perched on his lap sharing short chaste kisses with him, only stopping for him to get another beer or when his father came over to slam his hand onto Rudy's back, laughing boastfully about how he told him the hat worked.

And you were horrified to say, at the end of the night, that his father wasn't wrong.

Watching him clean up and wash the dishes with the hat still on, shouldn't have been as attractive as it was.

Some of his family still loitered outside, and watching Rudy with his hands on his waist like his mother usually did telling his brothers to make sure to clean after themselves before leaving was definitely one of the highlights of your night, but you didn't mind.

After throwing away some empty bottles, you passed the guest bathroom, stopping in your tracks as you saw Rudy standing in front of the mirror, rubbing at his stubble with a concentrated look.

"Howdy, cowboy." You said in an overly western accent, getting a laugh out of him as he turned to look at you. "What happened to our bathroom upstairs?"

"Oh, one of the kids spilled their drink all over themselves, my sister's cleaning them up." He explained with a shrug, watching you carefully as you walked in and closed the door behind you, hopping up onto the counter and sending him a wide smile. "¿Qué?"

"Nothing." You reached out a hand to brush against his cheek, warmth pooling in your tummy as he instantly melted into your touch, running your fingers over the five o'clock shadow he'd been sporting for a while. "You know… The hat's actually doing it for me."

The way his whole face brightened could've been enough to rival every single star in the galaxy.

"¿En serio?"

"En serio." You repeated with a smile, watching him slowly make his way between your legs, his warm hands running down your exposed thighs and making their home there, cockiness oozing out of him.

"Hmm… I told you it worked. You should be glad you're the only woman I've worn it around…" He joked, leaning in to continue the kisses you'd both been sharing across the night, letting you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

"Like anyone else would love you and your dorky hat the way I do." You teased, pulling down at his hat from the back and giggling as he furrowed his brows and pursed his lips in mock anger.

"Hmph." He stopped moving, leaving you to be the one continuing the kisses, stopping in your tracks when you realised you were the only one putting effort into your little makeout session.

"What?" You laughed, knowing his anger wasn't serious. "Little cowboy can't handle the truth?"

The condescending giggle and the way you pulled down at the front of his hat so it would cover his eyes turned his fake anger into a simmering irritation, the grip he had on your thighs tightening.

His cheeks burned from beneath the hat, although he couldn't lie that the spot around his crotch wasn't growing tighter, your mocking tone making him want to do nothing more than to bend you over the counter and teach you a lesson. Despite how rarely he got into this state of mind where all he wanted was to fuck you as roughly as he could, when he did, the only goal in his mind was to get you to a point where the only thing coming out of your mouth was his name.

And now, he knew it was a tiny bit ridiculous getting this worked up over some teasing jokes, but from past experience, he knew you never complained when he got like this.

"Oh, c'mon. Are you crying?" You snickered, flicking the brim of his hat up so you could see his eyes, ready to crack and start giggling when you would inevitably see his own face struggling not to laugh, but you froze in your tracks when you saw the way his eyes had darkened.

Oh.

Oh.

A pleasurable shiver ran down your spine as you realised what you'd gotten into, dropping your hands down to his that were still perched on your thighs, taking them and directing them to grab onto your waist, freezing as he pulled them back away from you and grabbed onto your thighs once again, wrapping them around his waist and pulling your along.

"¿Te crees graciosa, mi amor?"

You kept your mouth closed, slowly hooking your feet behind his back to keep him close, shaking your head at him.

"Shy all of a sudden? What happened to that snarky mouth of yours?" He grumbled, one of his hands coming down to slap at the top of your thighs, near your ass. "Think we can find a better way to keep it occupied that isn't insulting your poor husband?"

You immediately nodded, giddiness filling your body as you watched him step back and start unbuckling his belt, taking that as the clue to jump off the counter and slide to your knees, shuffling towards him and sitting down on your heels expectantly, looking up at him through your eyelashes as he unzipped his fly.

"Cálmate."

Despite the angry façade he was trying to keep up, he couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips as soon as he held his cock out in front of you, the awestruck look that you wore never failing to boost his ego and make him giddy.

"Venga. You can touch."

As soon as those words had left his mouth, you took him into your own, enjoying the slight salty taste he had from having sat outside in the sun for so long, arms coming up to grab at his jeans as you took him all the way down to the base, eyes rolling into the back of your head as his hand grabbed at the back of your head, pushing your face into the tuft of curls that adorned the base of his beautiful cock.

"Ay… Así es, mi amor… good girl …"

You moaned at his praise, sending vibrations right up his spine and making him throw his head back, the feeling of your mouth drooling around his cock always a beautiful sight.

You pulled back, resorting to giving yourself a quick break and peppering kisses all over him, taking a few moments to press a few to his balls, knowing he was extra sensitive down there, before going back to training your throat to take him once again. It wasn't like you'd never had him in your mouth before, hell, you'd spend all day between his legs if you could, but you were never fully able to get used to his massive size, always slightly struggling when giving him a blowjob and when taking him normally.

"Ay, que linda te ves…" He sighed, brushing some strands of your hair away from your eyes so he could gaze into them properly, thighs stuttering as you gagged around him, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths to regain his proper mindset. "Okay, come on… Dios, I need to fuck you so badly."

You seemed to have forgotten who'd been in charge a few moments back due to how his tone had changed back to his normal, sweet one that he used during soft sex, completely ignoring his request and continuing to slide his cock down your throat, fingers running over the sensitive base and massaging his balls.

He growled, throwing his head back and indulging you for a few more moments before finally grasping at your hair and forcibly pulling you back, looking down at your tear and drool stained face as you both regained your breath.

"I told you to stop. Can't listen to a single thing I say, huh? Let's see if you get this one, then. Arriba."

You immediately got up as he tugged at your hair upwards, not rough enough to hurt, but hard enough to convey the message.

He met you with a sloppy kiss, not even caring that you'd been sucking his dick mere moments ago, just needing to have your lips against his.

"Venga, venga." He murmured as he tried pulling away, but got too distracted on how pretty you sounded while he kissed you dumb, hands grabbing at your waistband so he could pull down your shorts while distracting you with his breathtaking kiss. "Up." He breathed out once your shorts were lying on the ground, raising your arms so he could easily tug your shirt off and wrench off your bra, hands immediately grabbing at your breasts, thumb and pointer finger pulling and tugging at your nipples until they were hard and sore.

"Oww, Rudy…" you whined against his lips, crying out as he grabbed you by the hair again and moved you both back to the counter, carefully yet still roughly bending you over and pushing your flushed face against the cool marble.

"Stay." He snapped, slapping at you ass when he saw you try to squirm, tugging at his cock a few more times with a few breathless moans before deeming himself ready enough, pushing aside your panties to reveal your sopping wet hole. "No mames… You're fucking soaking, mi vida…"

You whined in embarrassment, trying to move away from his burning gaze but only getting another slap to the ass instead.

"Ay, nothing to be embarrassed about…" He cooed, smiling at the loud moan that left your lips as soon as his cock pressed against your entrance. "Makes me feel real happy that you're this turned on because of me."

Without even letting you reply, he pushed right in, the sound that left you akin to a scream and muffling the moan that escaped him.

"Rudy!" You cried out, tears bordering your eyes as you pulsed around him, whimpering once his hands landed on your waist and he leaned down to kiss all over your back, rubbing his stubble against your skin with a snicker to watch you squirm.

"Yeah, it's me… Come on, you tell me…" He murmured between soft kisses, despite the bad guy stance he'd taken at the beginning still worried about your wellbeing and enjoyment during, waiting for you to adjust so he could pound into you.

After a few moments of deep breaths and getting used to his cock pressing deep against you (also enjoying the soft kisses he was peppering all over your skin), you let out a small whimper, grinding your ass back onto his cock and waiting for him to get the gist.

And when he did, oh, his hand landed over your tailbone, using that as leverage to pull out and slam back in, your body jolting at the sudden intrusion and the weird feeling of your tits rubbing against cold marble, the warm sensation your husband was causing down there contrasting with how cold your upper body felt when pressed to the cool counter.

"So, so good!!" You praised with a cry, one of his hands grabbing at your wrists and tugging the back, holding them together as he continued to slam in and out of you, the head of his cock almost always hitting that one spot he'd memorised by now, feeling every single ridge and vein rub against your insides in the best way possible. "So good, Rudy!!'

"Yeah? That good, mi vida?" He moaned out, rolling his hips to get deeper and to pull a crying mewl out of you, chuckling as he saw the drool dribbling down your mouth and onto the counter. "¿Tan solo empezamos y ya estás tontita?"

His knees pushed your legs further apart, giving him more space to ram his cock into and make you see stars, body shaking around his cock as you both got closer to the edge despite his initial remarks, the rough feeling of his cock battering your insides enough to get you both to your orgasms quicker than usual.

"'m- gonna-"

"Sí, ya sé. You can do it, amor… Cum for me, okay?" He whimpered, his free hand coming down to where you both connected to find your clit, rubbing his thumb against in the way he knew would drive you crazy, smiling sweetly as you looked over your shoulder to make eye contact with him, almost rolling your eyes out of exasperation when you saw the hat still sitting on his now dishevelled curls. "Still here."

Whether he was talking about the hat or himself, you didn't know.

Once the knot inside of you had snapped, and your walls had tightened around his cock, juices squirting around his cock and staining his crotch, he finally gave himself the liberty to cum, letting your wrists go and grabbing onto your ass, using it as leverage to quickly rutt into you, biting down onto his tongue as you made no move to stop him from cumming inside, heart rate spiking as he got more and more excited to finish inside, making eye contact with you once again while he was about to near his release only to see the dumbstruck smile that pulled at your lips, as if you were explicitly waiting for him to finish inside.

That was enough to have his eyes rolling back and his hips stuttering, pressing himself deep inside you and letting himself go, his seed filling you and almost immediately overflowing, your combined juices leaking out of you despite his cock acting like a plug.

"Got a bit excited there, huh?" You said through deep breaths, mentioning the way you'd seen him grin almost manically as he thought about cumming inside. "Degenerate."

"Cállate." He laughed, taking his own deep breath as he leaned over and pressed your lips together, hat sliding off his head and hitting your forehead. "Ay, perdón."

You slapped his hands away before he could take it, pushing him away and forcing him to pull out in the process, allowing you to finally turn around and sit down on the counter like you had before, taking the hat into your hands and placing it messily over your dishevelled hair.

"How'd I look?" You laughed, leaning your sweaty body against the mirror and closing your eyes out of exhaustion.

A beat.

"Rudy?"

Silence.

You cracked one eye open, jaw falling open as your eyes landed on his once again hard cock, unbelieving that he'd gotten turned on after such a session just by seeing you in his hat.

"Oh my god, Rudy. How are you-"

You both froze as the door to the upstairs bathroom opened, listening to his sister and her son talk all the way downstairs and disappear into the backyard, turning back to each other as soon as silence reigned again.

You squealed as he lunged towards you, grabbing at your plush thighs and letting yourself wrap around his body, arms and legs clinging onto him as he didn't even bother to grab at your discarded clothing, slamming the bathroom door open and loudly running upstairs with you in his arms, not wanting to accidentally flash anyone.

You laughed as you both landed on your shared bed, hat still somehow intact as he pulled it off you, putting it back on with a goofy grin.

"How about a second round, mi vida?"

¿No te gusta? — You don't like it?

Era de mi papá. — It was my dad's.

Aguafiestas. — Spoilsport.

Ay, cómo me hieres. — Oh, how you wound me.

Dale, ahora vuelvo. — Alright, I'll be right back.

¿En serio? — Seriously?

¿Te crees graciosa? — You think you're funny?

Cálmate. — Calm down.

Qué linda te ves. — You look so beautiful.

Arriba. — Up.

You were always composed, even among the worst of situations. Regardless of the weight on your shoulders, the stress of your career, you carried it with ease.

Your work was full of lighthearted conversations, asking simple questions and giving shallow answers. It was never deeper than that, and you had no trouble navigating nuanced conversations. You always kept a solid, agreeable disposition, not easily swayed by outward forces; you had no other choice.

Though when you first laid eyes on him- your personal bodyguard, you felt the composure crack just a bit. Enough that you couldn't help your eyes following him as he strode through the hotel lobby. Your first meeting had forced a wave of heat over your body, when he met your gaze and introduced himself with an unanticipated, British accent, and hardened voice. He'd caught your eye, forced you into an uncomfortably vulnerable position, which wasn't usual for you.

He was harsh, a bit blunt- but you didn't mind. You were familiar with the ex-military type of men that usually found themselves in that line of work. Stoic, reserved, but intimidating. You liked your privacy, not answering mindless questions or making idle conversation- nothing like the hollow prodding of foreign delegates.

He was no different than the others before him, aside from the sinful thoughts that crossed your mind when you laid eyes on him. He made it a point to keep distance between you, only tending to you when you asked, no polite conversation required. You didn't expect any less, not from a foreign national who likely had no interest in making conversation with a diplomat.

You'd been in and out of meetings the entire week, driven around by the mountain of a man. He hadn't left your side, suited in a kevlar vest and carrying a handgun. He'd watched you bury yourself in your work, dig into the unpleasant parts of your job that needed to be done. He admired that kind of work ethic, even if you were a foreigner.

Your conversations were brief and uninviting. It was easy to discern his distaste for small-talk. He'd built a wall around himself, that much was evident, but it only spurred your desire to delve into unsavoury territory. You saw yourself in him, a reflection of someone who'd closed themselves off from meaningful relationships, an effort to remain unbound and free from complications.

The week had flown by. Little by little, you came to see glimpses of his personality, what made him chuckle, what he liked and disliked. It was vague, but enough for you to come to enjoy- inadvertently. You were lonely, there was no room for denial there, and in your vulnerable state, you'd found yourself wanting more.

That much was a shock. Though, you'd also kept your distance, not allowing yourself to be caught staring, remaining composed even if your heart was pounding in his presence. The added stress of an upcoming dinner didn't help your fragile state.

It was common for foreign politicians to host dinners, welcoming you to their country while promoting the image of peace. It was a tradition that you'd grown used to and learned to tolerate regardless of the strain it put on you.

It sneaked up, between conferences and meetings; a dinner scheduled with the Prime Minister's associates, and you couldn't be a minute late.

You'd already finished with your hair and makeup, zipping yourself into the tight dress until you couldn't reach above your shoulders. You were frustrated and already running behind your tight schedule. You let an exasperated sigh leave your lips before you called for Simon.

"Everythin' alright?" He asked, cracking the door.

You sighed again, walking to meet him halfway.

"I can't do the zipper up," You said. "Would you mind?"

He'd seen you in every state; half-asleep, post-shower, even casual dress- but the sight of you in a dress that highlighted all the right places made his knees weak. He couldn't meet your eyes, not for a moment while he blinked away the thoughts of you that ambushed him.

He nodded briskly, and you spun around while moving your hair to allow his fingers to do-up the rest of the closure. His fingertips brushed the skin on your back, feeling the silky texture beneath his rough hands. You forced yourself not to shiver, not to give in to the warmth crawling it's way down your abdomen.

"Thanks," You nodded.

You tugged at the dress that sat on your curves, settling it appropriately over your cleavage and hips. Your feet slipped into heels, offering Simon a quick, haphazard smile full of unseen nerves.

"Let's go," You nodded, grabbing your purse before leaving the hotel room with Simon following close behind.

He drove you to your meeting. He'd kept quiet while driving, his hand clinging to the steering wheel, sneaking glances of you in the rear view mirror. He could see you fixing your lipstick in your pocket mirror, one knee hooked over the other, lips rubbing the colour together.

He couldn't deny, he imagined those heels strung over his shoulders, maybe even digging into his back- though his head twitched while he forced himself to focus.

You were no better; your eyes had been studying the side of his head, drawn further down to the tattoos showing on his forearm. You watched him from your spot in the backseat, painfully willing yourself not to imagine him hovering over you, buried between your thighs, but it was a useless endeavour.

It took you off guard, finding yourself so flustered in his presence that it was difficult to manage simple conversation. You were grateful he didn't talk much, liked the silence as much as you.

Throughout dinner, you could feel him watching. His eyes locked in on you, studying your face as you smiled and laughed at the uninteresting conversation in front of you.

Your eyes darted to Simon's, finding his gaze already on you. Regardless of your preference for privacy, you felt a connection. A longing, for something more than cheap discussions and placid smiles. It could've been the wine, or delusions caused by stress, but it distracted you.

Simon's domineering stare never left you, not within the few hours it took to finish your meal, and during the conversation that followed.

Ordinarily, you'd think nothing of it- if anything, it would be expected, or a good choice of personal protection; but the stiffness in his stance, eyes surveilling your body, the hand that touched the small of your back as he guided you from the restaurant- your gut told you he wanted more.

You did indulge more than a few glasses of wine near the end, knowing you'd share a ride back to your hotel with Simon. It was liquid courage, filling your veins in the hopes that you'd be able to tolerate the ten-minute drive without feeling flustered.

As he opened the door for you, welcoming you back to the empty hotel room, you stopped just inside.

Your heart was pounding against your rib cage- the wine causing a bit of blurriness in your vision and a boost of confidence upon seeing him so close, only a foot outside your room. It made avoiding temptation so much more difficult than you were equipped to handle.

"Would you like a drink?" You asked, your hand resting on the door as you held it open.

"'M on duty," He shook his head, stepping back.

"Not for much longer," You replied, checking the time over your shoulder.

His weight shifted, wondering if it was worth the risk, if you were worth the risk. As his eyes wandered down your frame, he sighed quietly. Willpower was his strong suit, but after a week of watching you torment him with your silk bathrobe and tight-fitting dresses, he'd been worn down.

"Alright," He conceded with a nod.

He stepped inside, ridding himself of his utility belt and vest, making himself comfortable on the hard armchair across from the couch. He wasn't one for much conversation, and your request came as a surprise.

He wondered if maybe you'd offered him a drink to thank him- it was your last night under his watch, after all; though a less disciplined part of him hoped it would be an invitation to have his fantasies fulfilled.

"You prefer Scotch or Bourbon?" You asked, gazing over your shoulder at him.

"Bourbon," He replied.

He was leaned over, elbows on his thighs as he watched you rummage for two glasses and pour the bourbon over ice.

You joined him in the sitting area, handing him the glass before taking a seat across from him. Your feet curled up under you, resting your elbow on the back of the couch while you looked at him.

"Have you been doing this long?" You asked, finishing a sip.

"Few years, after I left the military."

You smiled softly, "I thought you were a vet. How long?"

"Too long," He answered, fingers clasping the glass as he watched you.

Your eyes narrowed at him.

"Did you have many deployments?"

"More than a few."

"Must've been hard to be away from your family."

You diverted your gaze to the bourbon in your glass, waiting with baited breath for his answer. You hadn't seen a wedding ring, though the times he went without gloves were few and far between.

"No family," He shook his head. "Don't have time for it."

"Your wife, then?"

"If you wanna ask me somethin', prefer you just ask it," He was leaning even closer, his stare was agonizingly precise.

You could feel the taunting smirk on his face, the tone of his voice inviting you to find out what his intentions were, how he felt about you. He could read you well, notice the changes in your demeanour, your breathing.

You took in a deep breath as you wondered if he was silently hoping you'd get on with it already. You liked getting to know him, though. If not to pry in his personal life so you knew just how far things could go.

The look in his eyes, one of focus and unwavering dedication to give you all of his attention, had you trembling with desire. Unravelling your legs, you strode to stand before him, and he sat up straighter.

It was a risk, though most of the risk had been diminished when he flirted with you, practically offered himself to you. And when his hands wrapped around your thighs, you knew exactly what he wanted.

"Do you have a wife? Girlfriend?" You asked, leaning in closer.

"If I did, wouldn't have come in here."

"Fair enough."

"You gonna keep askin' me questions or take this dress off?"

His hands had a firm grasp on your thighs, keeping you pinned to the spot.

Your hands landed on his shoulders. "Help me?"

He unzipped your dress, his hands helping to slide it down your shoulders. Once you'd slid it down your body, he looked you over, pulling you onto his lap.

"Couldn't take my eyes off you in that fuckin' dress," He muttered, leaning into your neck.

You hummed with satisfaction, "I noticed."

"S'pose I ain't subtle when I want somethin'."

Your cheeks flushed- maybe the drinks, or maybe the feeling of his hands on your body, but his words seemed to cover you in a fog of lust.

"I like that," You grinned.

He lifted the mask to the bridge of his nose, his lips now visible. It was the most you'd seen of his face, aside from his eyes, and it was pleasing. It was mostly as expected- stubble, full lips; though your admiring was interrupted when he pressed his lips to your neck.

He gave wet, open-mouthed kisses, soothed by his tongue, teeth grazing your silky flesh. You'd let your head fall back, eyes shutting as you savoured the goosebumps he coaxed from your body.

The warmth between your thighs spread, engulfing every limb until it felt like you were on fire- especially when his hand reached around, taking a handful of your ass with rough palms.

Your hands, in turn, slid down his chest, feeling the hardness of his pecs, mountains of muscle across his body. He was warm beneath your touch, feverish with lust, burning up just at the thought of your body against his. He was pushing his groin up into you; heavy breaths in your neck, hands grabbing whatever they could reach.

One of his hands slithered between your thighs, calloused fingers finding the crest of your pussy to apply pressure. Your lips moulded together, a soft hum of pleasure escaping in a sigh through your nose.

Still, he leaned into your neck, had a handful of your backside in his grip, manhandling you to grind your pussy over his fingers.

"Just like that," You moaned softly, gentle pants of pleasure fanning against his neck.

He only sighed quietly in response, his groin pressed against you, hips rocking into you. Already, you were leaking through your panties, the fabric sticking to the slick lubrication dripping between your thighs.

"You're wet already, sweetheart," He grumbled in your ear.

"I know," You moaned faintly. "I need more."

His hand disappeared for a moment, belt buckle clanking together, unzipping his pants as he pulled his cock from his briefs. Your eyes lifted to his, perching forward, using your hand to gently glide his cock into your entrance.

He buried his face in your neck as your palm guided him to the tight embrace of your pussy- ridges of his cock sliding past the velvety barrier with ease.

"Slow," He grumbled. "Fuck me-" He choked out.

The tip of his cock just barely pushed past the slick lining of your pussy, and he dropped his head back. In unison, groans of pleasure left your lips as you lowered yourself onto his cock, opening yourself up until he was finally buried inside you.

"Christ, sweetheart," He muttered, his hands finding your hips.

You didn't stop, moving your hips forward as he lifted his head to find your eyes. His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth, harsh grunts leaving his chest.

"You feel good," He mumbled.

"Tell me how good," You breathed, your hands meeting around the back of his neck.

"Real fuckin' good," He grunted.

His hips inadvertently bucked up into you, causing a flash of a smile to cross your lips, before he reached down and rubbed his fingers over your clit.

Your pace faltered for a moment, a quiet whimper escaping, before you pulled yourself even closer, grinding on his lap. Your arm wrapped around his neck, desperately chasing the friction his fingers offered, the depth of him inside you.

His fingers had a bruising hold on the flesh of your waist, his face nearly buried in your breasts as you rocked into him.

Low grunts of pleasure were muffled against your skin, his body rigid while he resisted the urge to climax. Your lips parted as puffs of air escaped, fighting to catch your breath between the pleasure and exertion.

He went to pin you to the couch cushions, set the pace himself, when you stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"I get what I need," You exhaled, still grinding your hips against his. "Then, you can have what you want."

He was pleasantly surprised. He'd never been one for giving up control, though watching your hips move, your breasts in his face- it wasn't so difficult to sit back and let you ride his cock.

"Get on with it, then," He said, leaving a harsh smack on your ass.

"Use your fingers," You shot back, nearly breathless.

"You ever say please?" He cocked his head.

"Please," You spat out.

You watched his lip twitch, then felt his rough fingers rub circles over your clit. You hunched over, leaning on his shoulders for support, smelling the faint scent of his cologne, listening to the deep breaths he was desperately trying to camouflage.

It was enough to bring your climax to fruition, eyes squeezing shut as pleasure engulfed you, soft tremors in your legs and hips as it migrated outward.

Your head fell back, lips open in a gasp that had been suffocated by your heavy breathing. Your fingers dug into the taught muscle of his shoulders, toes curling while your body hit plateaus of pleasure.

"That's it," He drawled. "There it is."

You whimpered softly as the pleasure dissipated, leaving you soft and pliable, relaxed. Then, he moved you to the cushions, pulling your legs around his torso.

He drove his cock into you, feeling the after-effects of your orgasm in the form of short contractions. Each time your pussy squeezed his cock, he was pushed even closer to cumming. His breathing sped up, elbows digging into the couch as he buried his cock in you.

You were useless, lifeless against the couch, hanging onto his neck as he thrusted into you. Breaths fanning your chest and collarbones as he buried his head into you, groaning harshly.

He hurriedly pulled out of you, tugging his cock a few times before releasing his cum over your stomach. A few twitches, low groans, soft exhales; his eyes met yours in the aftermath of his orgasm.

You laid back, relaxing as he brought you your robe and a towel. You quickly cleaned off, tying your robe around your waist as he tugged his vest over his head and grabbed his gear.

"Thanks," You nodded, your eyes barely meeting his. "For this past week, and for that."

He huffed- a small expression of amusement.

"Let me know next time you're in town."

"Probably won't be for another few years," You sighed, your hand holding the door for him once again. "If I had a reason to, I'd stop by."

He then grinned, "Here," He rummaged through the fatigue pocket of his vest, handing you a card.

It had his name and a phone number, not listed whether it was personal or business.

"If you find yourself in need of my services. Anytime."

You smiled, taking the card and examining it.

"How's next week sound?"

"Good."

"I look forward to it."

And now, looking away from Nikolai between her legs, his eyes closed and eyebrows knit together as he eased a finger into her cunt, his mouth latched to her clit, towards John, lounged back into his armchair, his glass of scotch long abandoned, his hand now stroking his cock, having pulled it out haphazardly. She moaned, bucked up against Nik’s mouth, licking her lips. God, she had never wanted to suck a man off so bad, aching for him to come over and ease his cock into her mouth, grab fistfuls of her hair and fuck her throat– but all in due time, she supposed. The night was still young, after all. Though, as Nikolai eased a third finger into her, curling his fingers upwards and hurtling her quickly toward release, she wonder how soon it’d be before he finally joined them, or if the whole evening would pass by with just her and Nikolai (though, as Nikolai finally tipped her over the edge, she realised she wouldn’t mind that so much).

Nikolai pulled away to rest his head on her stomach, his fingers still lazily thrusting inside of her even as she tried to squirm away, the pleasure slipping slowly into the burn of overstimulation, looking over at John with a smile.

“Are you not joining us, dear?” Nik drawled, pressing a kiss to her belly and finally withdrawing his hand.

“Mmm,” John groaned, eyes flicking between hers and Nik’s, “later.”

Nikolai grinned, and chuckled, moving up the length of her body and back up to her lips, pressing a quick kiss to her lips then leaned down to her ear.

“He always liked watching. He’ll join, do not worry.” He went back to her lips, intending to press another kiss to her lips again before she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back down, easing her tongue into his mouth to taste herself fully, Nikolai’s hand moving up to cradle her chin, his other hand easing down to his length, bringing it up to her cunt to rut against her heat, pulling a moan from both of them. Slowly, carefully, he began to ease into her, and though she was wet and her muscles were laxe thanks to her orgasm, she still felt a dull burn from the stretch, clutching Nikolai’s shoulders as he pressed kisses to her shoulder, his hands holding her waist, where her dress still was, bunched up, then moving up to cup her breasts, flick her nipples. Eventually, when she grinded against him, he finally moved, thrusting into her slowly, agonisingly to begin with.

“Nik, please.” She whined, nails digging into his shoulder and leaving crescent-shaped dents. He was so thick, and his hands were so rough as they pinch her nipple and moved down to circle her clit again, and it’d be so much better if he just sped up. To think, though, she could’ve had this for years, could’ve had Friday nights in getting fucked into Nik and John’s sofa, could’ve had quiet Saturday mornings lazing in bed and cuddling with them, could’ve joined them in domestic bliss if she’d simply asked, if she’d realised how she felt and just acted.

With a groan, she wrenched him down towards her, pulling his ear to her mouth, rasping, “Nikolai, ah, I swear to god if you don’t fucking speed up—” she was cut off with moan when he angled his thrusts up, and Nikolai shuddered, gripping her waist and speeding up, his mouth latched to her neck, no doubt leaving a mark.

“Hah, so impatient,” Nikolai chuckled, hooking her leg further up his hip, “as impatient as John”

Across the room, she could hear the man grumble, and looked over to find him still reclining back him his chair, legs spread, his hand stroking his length in time with Nikolai’s thrusts, his eyes flickering between Nikolai’s hip and her breasts, bouncing against Nik’s chest in time with his thrusts, looking intently.

“Aah, John— Nik!”

Nikolai angled her hips upwards, hitting her just right and making her clench around his cock. Nikolai moaned, speeding up his efforts, thrusting faster, rubbing her clit furiously and hurtling her over the edge for the second time that night. Nikolai helped her ride out her orgasm, only speeding back up again to chase his own, pulling her into a sloppy kiss and moaning into her mouth when he spilled into her. He slipped out of her, and she could feel him ooze out of her, making her shudder.

Nik pulled away, rubbing the corner of her mouth with his thumb, “You did so well, my lovely.” Nikolai turned around.

Dazed and blissed out, she barely noticed the shuffling across the room, the heavy footfalls heading towards the sofa.

“Aah John, decided to join us?”

If I’m up for it I might write a follow up, preferably with Price (one day I’ll actually work up the courage to write smut for him)

This was generally quite nice to write, I’m getting back into my style again and enjoying it once again which is lovely

This has been in my drafts for weeks now because my mind said ‘poly nikprice’ in a sleep deprived stupor and I haven’t been able to get rid of the idea for months now

"fuck– nikolai–"

his rough, calloused hand let go of your hip to press down between your shoulder blades, forcing your back to arch as he pushed your chest further into the mattress. you had the sheets fisted in one hand and the other interlocked with his, moans freely spilling from your lips.

"you can take it, милая." he growls between labored breaths, leaning forward to leave wet, sloppy kisses against the back of your throat as his hand reached for your hip again. "моя сладкая… you’re doing so good for me…"

"fuck– ‘s too much, nik…" you whine as the new position made him go even deeper, practically bullying you on his cock.

"too much? you’re sucking me in, принцесса," he chuckles low next to your ear, pressing yet another kiss to your feverish skin. the cold metal of his necklace - that stupid gold chain he always wore - dangled next to your head, swaying back and forth with each snap of his hips.

you gripped his hand tightly, the only thing keeping you on the planet as nikolai quite literally fucked you stupid. each hard thrust only made it more difficult for you to think, to speak, to do anything but try desperately to keep up with him. he squeezed your hand in return, mumbling soft praise and leaving sweet kisses against your shoulder as you finally lost yourself in your ecstasy.

you sat up straight as your alarm blared, startling you out of your pleasant dream. clicking it off and flopping back down, you let out a frustrated sigh.

"fucking hate him…" you grumble to yourself. sitting up again, you grab one of your pillows and chuck it at the door with a groan.

it had been three weeks since the chemical factory. three weeks since you and nikolai had camped out together. three weeks since you two almost kissed. and, during those three weeks, you had seen the man only once. apparently he was "busy with work," as captain price put it when you asked.

is it possible to go insane from something like this? three weeks ago, you would have answered that question with a definitive "no."

today, you would say "yes" to it.

there was a ginger knock against your door. "uh, lieutenant? you doin’ alright in there?" gaz’s nervous voice, slightly muffled on the other side, distracted you from your thoughts.

"i’m fine, gaz, just dropped something," you reply while dragging yourself out of bed.

"dropped something against the door?"

"yes, sergeant. against the door."

you trudged over to the door and nudged the pillow out of the way with your foot. upon opening it, you were greeted by the sight of a very befuddled gaz.

"well, there’s coffee in the kitchen." he says with a smile. "please try not to drop that, too." he adds, speed-walking in the other direction after you sent him a very pointed glare.

when you stepped into the kitchen, you immediately beeline for the pot of coffee that soap was standing next to. the scotsman looked at you with an amused grin as you hastily prepared a cup for yourself.

"bad night, l.t.?"

"you have no idea."

as you eagerly chugged your drink, paying no mind to the burning sensation as it went down your throat, ghost approached and stopped in the doorway. "0-5, price wants you to stop by his office."

"someone’s in trouble," soap sang from next to you, prompting you to roll your eyes and set your cup on the counter. "did he say what for?" you ask, brushing past the other lieutenant on your way out.

"something related to an assignment, i think. best for you to ask him yourself."

with a nod and a quick "thank you," you headed for price’s office. it wasn’t terribly far, but far enough that your head spun with different ideas of what he could want. to your knowledge, you hadn’t done anything wrong, nor had you done anything worth a personal commendation. was this about the chemical factory? training new recruits? a new mission you’d be leading?

as you approached the office and knocked on the open door, you had your question answered for you.

price stood behind his desk, cigar burning away between his thumb and forefinger. standing on the other side, chatting with him about something, was the very man that had been plaguing your thoughts for the past twenty one days.

"lieutenant, good to see you." price took another puff of his cigar before setting on the edge of the ash tray. nikolai looked over his shoulder, smiling as you stepped further into the room. "i’ve got a new job for you. one that laswell just sent in."

you stood in front of the desk, to nikolai’s right, as price slid the manila folder on its surface towards you. "something for me alone?" you ask while giving the contents of the folder a quick scan, noting how many of the details were blacked out.

"officially, you’ll be working alone."

"and, unofficially?"

price huffed out a laugh and nodded towards the other man. "unofficially, nik will be there to watch your back and provide some… personal support."

the details that weren’t redacted gave you an idea of why he was your backup: the local contact you’d be linking up with to gather intel was a former arms dealer from russia, now running a "clean" business in finland. he was probably familiar with the man.

"when do we head out?" you closed the folder and set it back down, giving price a curious look.

"as soon as you can. you’ve got a long flight."

within a half-hour, you had collected your gear and made your way to the base’s runway. nikolai was standing by the helicopter as you approached, skimming over the flight plan. wordlessly, you passed by him and dropped your bag in the back of the helicopter, glimpsing at him from the corner of your eye. he looked up from the papers briefly, perfectly in time to meet your gaze.

"ready to head out, принцесса?" he asks, turning around and tucking the clipboard somewhere in the cockpit. the nickname brought you back to the dream you had last night - a memory that immediately made blood rush to your face.

quickly shaking the feeling off, you nodded your head. "yeah, let’s get going."

as you went to board in the back, nikolai stopped you. "ah, you should ride in the front." he motioned towards the co-pilot’s seat. "it’s just the two of us, there’s no point in sitting in the back."

you looked at the seat, then back at him. "you sure? i don’t want to mess anything up."

"you won’t," he chuckles and slides the back door shut. "just don’t touch anything unless i tell you to, and we’ll be fine."

with another nod, you circle around the chopper and settle in the front seat. your respect for the pilot raised instantly upon seeing the array of buttons, switches, and gauges laid out; you couldn’t even begin to guess what half of them were used for.

and yet, nikolai seemed to know exactly what to do as he sat in the pilot’s seat, flicking several switches and bringing every system to life. it wasn’t long before you were in the sky, with the low rumble of the vehicle’s engine helping relax you as your head fell back against the headrest.

"you’re usually more talkative than this, lieutenant." nikolai spoke up, sending a cursory glance in your direction. you opened your eyes, which had fallen shut soon after takeoff, and returned the look.

"not feeling very talkative today," you reply.

he turns towards you with a low sigh. "are you upset with me?"

the question was genuine, and you met his somber gaze. you gnawed on the inside of your cheek as you debated on how to answer. you understood being busy, most of the people you came across in this line of work were constantly moving without a break, yourself included. despite not knowing hardly anything about the man’s past or personal life, you knew that nikolai had a number of responsibilities that kept him almost too busy.

you felt bad - guilty, even - over it all; that you were upset with him for doing his job, that you couldn’t help alleviate any of his stress, your confusion over your feelings for him, that you’ve missed him far more than you should.

"i’m not upset with you," you start, shifting your gaze to the control panel in front of you. "well, i am, but not in the way you think. these past few weeks… i’ve missed you, nik. more than i know i should, given our situation." you concede with a heavy sigh.

"what is 'our situation?'"

"risking death every time we step out the door."

nikolai huffed, just barely audible over the sound of the whirring blades overhead. "i have no intention to die, милая."

"i know you don’t intend to, but it could happen," you look at him again, suddenly feeling a fresh wave of anxiety rush through your veins. "ever since you left, i’ve been worrying day and night, staying awake in the hopes you’d at least call and tell me you’re okay."

at some point, your hands balled into fists in your lap. nikolai had since looked back at the windshield, though you could tell he was still listening.

"i just–" you sigh, again, attempting to keep your composure. you were a soldier, a member of an elite task force for heaven’s sake, you should be able to do at least that. "we left off in a… confusing, place. i wanted to talk about it, but then you were gone without so much as a 'goodbye.'"

"and, i understand you were busy," you continue, unclenching your fists and nervously rubbing your palms against the front of your thighs. "you’ve got your own life and business to worry about, but a single call would’ve gone a long way. i don’t even know if that night meant anything to you."

you waited for a response - a confirmation, rejection, anything. you just needed to know how he felt, to know whether you should walk away with your tail between your legs and your pride intact, or if there was something there worth pursuing.

a few minutes of painful silence passed between you two. finally, as you were opening your mouth to tell him to forget about it, nikolai spoke.

"i wanted to call. several times." he pauses, inhaling and exhaling slowly. "i left in such a rush because i was needed for something important, something urgent. i didn’t expect to be kept away for so long, or else i would have spoken to you."

"i am a very busy man, yes, but never too busy for you." he confesses, chuckling to himself. "as for what that night meant… well, i think that entirely depends on what you want, милая. you already know that you are special to me. what we choose to do about it is up to you."

you crack a smile as your tense muscles start to relax. all it took was that response to make you realize just how ridiculous the whole situation was. embarrassment flooded your mind and heat rose to your cheeks, forcing you to raise your hands in an attempt to cover them.

"i’m sorry, i should have–"

"don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong by worrying. it is quite nice to be worried over, actually."

nikolai held the yoke in one hand and reached over with the other, taking your wrist in a gentle grip. he pulls it towards himself and interlocks your fingers together before lifting your hand up to press a firm kiss to the back of it.

"after this job, we’ll talk everything over." you giggle as the single kiss turned into multiple on the back of your hand and fingers. "i think we’re on the same page, but i’d like to hear you say it."

he hums against your skin before releasing your hand and focusing on the sky again. "anything to please you, принцесса."

the sun was beginning to set over the horizon as the chopper landed, decorating the sky in an assortment of warm hues. dirt and small stones were crushed underneath your boots as you stepped out of the cockpit, taking note of the surrounding area.

you had landed in a field, marked only with a small, abandoned shack set in the middle. most sides of the clearing were surrounded by dense forest as far as the eye could see, though one side had a dirt path that led past it. through the trees, you could make out a road and city lights in the distance.

"we’ll travel the rest of the distance by car," nikolai states, motioning towards a black truck at the close end of the path. "less suspicion, that way."

"who would be suspicious of us, exactly?" you question as you follow him to the vehicle, setting your bag in the back of it. he circles around to the driver’s side and fishes a set of keys out of his pocket, and you get settled in the passenger’s seat once it’s unlocked.

"our contact," he turns the keys in the ignition and starts down the path, towards the road. "he goes by 'lev,' and is a very paranoid man."

you glanced at the mirrors as you turned onto the road, keeping an eye out for any cars potentially following. "if he’s so paranoid, then how did laswell convince him to help us?"

"she didn’t. i did."

you look away from the mirrors to stare at nikolai in confusion. you expected him to be familiar with the contact, but this was news to you. he merely regards you with an easy smile.

"what do you think i spent those weeks doing, милая? i was gathering resources, as always."

"i should’ve known," you shake your head in disbelief, focusing your eyes on the road. the sun had fully sunken over the horizon by this point, blanketing the sky in darkness. "another long drive?"

"shouldn’t be too long, provided we don’t run into any trouble on the way."

ever true to his word, the drive to the meeting location wasn’t long - only about an hour, compared to the day’s trip you’d had already. a few twists and turns down the back roads of the city brought you to an inconspicuous warehouse. had you not known better, you would have assumed the building was abandoned, the only sign of life being the pair of guards standing near the entrance.

"until we reach lev, it would be best to let me do the talking," nikolai says, motioning for you to follow him to the entrance. you silently nod your head and stick close to his side as the two guards regard you with stern glares, hands reaching for the side holsters slightly concealed under their jackets.

nikolai approaches them with a calm smile and greets the pair in russian before striking up a conversation that you could only understand pieces of. you manage to catch the words "meeting," "boss," and "friend" amongst the rest.

one of them men lifts his hand to his earpiece and speaks into it. after a moment’s wait, he nods to the other guard, who then says something to nikolai. you just barely register the word "inside" before the doors are opened for you to walk through. again, you stay close to your companion’s side as you enter, being greeted instantly by a collection of several more armed personnel.

one of the guards nods towards an elevator. you send nikolai a wary glance that he brushes off with a relaxed smile as you two follow what you’re told. however, once the elevator doors slide shut, leaving the two of you alone again, he turns to you.

"listen to me very closely," he says in a low voice, sending an involuntary shiver up your spine. "there is an apartment building a few blocks away. it is one of the only residential buildings in this part of the city, so it’s very hard to miss. if anything happens during this meeting, i want you to go there, with or without me, and go to the apartment on the top floor."

you nervously shift your weight from one foot to the other. "are you worried that something is going to go wrong?" you ask, blinking up at him.

"i don’t think that anything will go wrong," he reassures you. "but, i believe that it’s always best to be prepared for the worst, lieutenant."

hard to argue with that logic.

a moment later, the elevator stops and the doors slide open again. more guards dot the short hallway leading to a set of double doors. the pair of guards standing on either side reach for the handles and pull them open when you arrive, revealing a spacious and well-kept office. a far cry from the building’s exterior, you think to yourself.

in the dead center of the room was a large, circular meeting table. to the right was another single door that you gathered led outside. there was a small seating area immediately to your left, and against the far wall sat a simple wooden desk.

the man that sat behind said desk broke into a wide grin upon your entry - lev, you assumed.

he stands from his swivel chair and greets nikolai with an eager handshake. "ah, nikolai, i was starting to wonder when you would show up!" he says, accent thick and heavy, before turning his attention to you. "and, who is this ангел that you’ve brought?"

you instinctively shift a bit closer to nikolai before he answers. "a friend, the one with the task force. she’s here for the information you have." he lifts his hand and presses his palm against the other man’s chest, preventing him from getting any closer to you.

"a friend, i see." lev shoots a knowing glance in his direction. "if she can be trusted, then i have all the information that you need."

he walks to the far end of the meeting table, rapping his knuckles against the surface of it twice, signaling for you to sit down. you oblige and take a seat in one of the chairs, with nikolai sitting in between you and lev. he presents a folder, packed to the point of nearly bursting, and slides it towards you.

"i have done much work with the organizations that you are seeking to dismantle."

you start looking over the contents of the folder. names, locations, battle plans, affiliates - HQ would have a field day with all of it. "what caused you to break up the relationship, then?" you ask while sifting through the papers.

"the business stopped being profitable."

"you seem to have forgotten that you were caught with dirty hands, as well." nikolai adds, his gaze firmly trained on the other russian. you hardly noticed it, too focused on the intel laid out before you.

lev huffs out an amused laugh and nods his head affirmatively. "yes, and you were the one that saved me from a life sentence. i have not forgotten the eternal debt i owe you, my friend." he replies, moving to stand behind his desk once more.

"my sincerest apologies if you were expecting more hospitable treatment, friends, but i have much work to do," he says. you and nikolai are quick to stand up as you tuck the folder under your arm. "i look forward to helping each other again in the future."

you give him a polite smile and move to thank him, before you hear a door lock click behind you. in your peripheral vision, you see a small group - four, maybe five - guards reach for their guns.

nikolai speaks before you can. "what is the meaning of this, lev?" his voice lowers to a near-growl as he takes a step towards the desk.

"it’s nothing personal, old friend. this is merely a favor that my other affiliates asked of me."

"i thought you quit working with them," you tear your attention from the guards and watch as he opens a drawer, pulling a handgun from it. he shrugs, toying with the weapon for a moment.

"i did, but now they are offering more money, and i would be lying if i said that i wasn’t a greedy man."

you barely noticed the object comfortably nestled in the palm of nikolai’s hand out of the corner of your eye - a small canister, easily missed. you focus on it and piece together what it is.

a smoke grenade. clever.

"you are a dead man." is the only warning you get before he tosses the grenade down and fills the room with a thick fog. somewhere behind you, the group of guards open fire, missing you entirely as you vault over the table.

amidst the chaos, you hear nikolai’s voice again. "get out" is all you can understand, but the message is clear. you sprint for the exterior door and bust through it, inhaling deeply as fresh air fills your lungs. shouts come from behind you, reminding you of the contingency plan - fucking run.

you break into a sprint down the stairs to your left, skipping every other step as you descend. within seconds, you were at the front of the building again. as the pair of guards stationed at the entrance are distracted with their earpieces, no doubt receiving orders to shoot you on sight, you continue your mad dash past them and towards the street.

a few bullets land near your feet as you keep running, adrenaline kicking your legs into high gear. you were never the fastest on the team - that title securely belonged to gaz - but, you could certainly outrun most hostiles when it mattered.

you knew you were being chased after turning several corners and still hearing the shouts of your attackers. luckily for you, the aforementioned apartment building was within your sights. much like the warehouse, it looked almost abandoned, and you prayed that you were right this time. the last thing you needed right now was civilian casualties.

the smoke in the room obscured his movements as nikolai cleared the place out, starting with the gaggle of men behind him at the door. two knives and three bullets was all it took for them to lay dead in a pile.

the only one that remained was the bastard cowering behind the desk.

he strides across the room as the smoke begins to clear, bringing him face-to-face with his target. the moment doesn’t last long, as he shoves the gun in the man’s hand out of the way and flings it elsewhere. he grabs the back of lev’s head and slams it against the edge of his desk once, twice, thrice, before lifting it up as he choked for air.

"if your men hurt a single hair on her head," nikolai says, voice gravelly and thick with subdued anger as he leans in close. blood dripped from the man’s face onto the wooden surface below. "not even the deepest pit of hell will be a safe place for you."

nikolai grasps the back of his shirt and throws him to the ground. as he walks towards the same door you ran out of, he stops with a hand on the doorframe.

"i almost forgot," he chuckles and watches the man desperately crawl towards his gun. "consider your debt to me paid in full, ублюдок."

he lifts his gun and shoots him twice before turning around and rushing down the stairs. he couldn’t tell how many men had pursued you, and he didn’t care to wait around for you to tell him yourself. as he slows down briefly to reload his gun, a bullet pierces his left bicep and sends him stumbling forward.

a single man had remained, waiting for him outside. nikolai was quick to finish him off before heading for the apartment building.

hopping over the metal fence, you reach a courtyard that was covered in overgrowth and in desperate need of some maintenance. you duck into a shadowy corner and pull a combat knife out from your jacket.

as the first guard entered the courtyard, pointing his gun in every direction as he searched for you, you lunged at him from behind and dug the knife into his throat. like clockwork.

you turned to face the other guards as they arrived and let go of the knife to grab your gun, concealed but well within reach. meanwhile, your free arm was wrapped around the first guard’s shoulders, using him as a shield against the others’ weapons. after dropping three of them, you release the body and dive for cover again.

ten.

you peek out from your hiding spot and drop another guard as he reaches for a stun grenade. two more stand to his left. you shoot one as he looks away to check the grenade, and the other when his gun runs out of ammo.

seven.

two attempt to flank, moving towards your right side. the first one trips over a branch sticking out from the garden bed and doesn’t get back up. the second one avoids the branch, but doesn’t avoid his friend’s body. you take care of him shortly after.

five.

as you stop to reload, internally patting yourself on the back for remembering your silencer, another pair pushes forward. you grab a stun grenade off your belt and toss it forward, immediately dropping the two after it goes off at their feet.

three.

you aim your gun at the last trio, narrowly avoiding a bullet as it whizzes past your head. before you get the chance to fire at any of them, two fall dead, one right after the other. the last remaining guard hesitates in the confusion, and you take the chance to eliminate him, as well.

cautiously, you move from your cover and look in the direction of the other bullets. your jaw drops as you see nikolai holster his gun and jog towards you, blood dripping from a wound below his shoulder.

"shit, nik– let me help–" you rush towards him and grab his uninjured arm, offering yourself as a support while leading him to the building’s closest entry. you manage to open the door with one hand and guide the both of you inside.

"are you okay, милая?" he asks, letting out a pained grunt as you practically drag his stumbling body up the flights of stairs. the blood loss was starting to affect him, you could tell. "did any of them hurt you?"

"i’m fine, my love. you’re the one losing blood." you tighten your hold as you keep ascending. "this apartment better have a first aid kit, or i’ll have to rip this jacket apart just to bandage you up."

truthfully, he stopped listening after "my love."

after some effort, you reach the top floor. you find the key taped to the bottom of a nearby plant - a shitty hiding spot, you tell nikolai - and unlock the door to the apartment. you manage to help him inside and to a couch in the small living area.

"stay here, i’ll go find something to patch you up with." you say before disappearing down the short hallway. miraculously, the first room you check happens to be the bathroom, which has a first aid kit tucked away below the sink. you grab it and rush back to the living room, where nikolai was struggling to take his jacket off.

with a soft-spoken "let me help," you pull his jacket off and lay it across the arm of the couch, getting his shirt off after and putting it aside.

you try to ignore the sight, you really do. however, seeing his upper half entirely bare for the first time was a distraction that you considered impossible to ignore. he was fit, more muscular than most of the "prime" rookies that you’d seen in recent times. broad-shouldered and strong, with a plethora of scars covering different parts of his arms and torso.

you made a mental note to ask about every single one when you had the time.

"something catch your eye, принцесса?" nikolai asks with an amused laugh. he immediately reaches for his injury after with a soft wince. "perhaps you could continue your staring after this is taken care of."

while attempting to ignore the flush in your cheeks, you open the first aid kit and sit on the couch next to him. you try to fix up the wound as best as you can with what little supplies you have.

"i shouldn’t have run," you confess after a moment passes. "i know you wanted me to, but i shouldn’t have. i left you alone back there."

"i was perfectly fine on my own, my worry was for your safety."

"still, you were hurt because i wasn’t there to help." you manage to close the wound and reach for the rolls of gauze and bandages. "we’re a team, defending each other is part of the job. next time something like this happens, i’m not leaving you alone in a room of hostiles."

"i pray nothing like this happens to us again," he chuckles. "we may be part of the same team, but it is my personal job to keep you safe."

you finish wrapping the bandages around his bicep and set the rest aside as you look up at him. "why?"

"do you really not know why?" he turns to you. a fond smile plays on his lips as you register what he means. you clear your throat and glance towards his arm. "is there anything else i can do to help with that?"

nikolai leans against the back cushion and hums to himself as he thinks. you can tell exactly when he gets an idea, as he sends a mischievous look in your direction.

"a kiss would be nice."

you blink at him. "a kiss?" you ask. he nods his head and lifts his uninjured arm up to pat the top of his thigh, an invitation.

"yes, i think a kiss would make me feel much better. don’t you agree?"

heat creeps up your neck as you carefully crawl over and toss your leg over his own, straddling his lap. his hands immediately drag up the outer sides of your thighs and settle on your hips. he pulls you closer until you’re chest-to-chest, and your hands settle on his shoulders, staying mindful of his injury.

your tongue wets your lips in anticipation. nikolai’s eyes closely follow the movement as he lets a soft sigh slip out, his hips shifting under you.

you lean in and press your lips against his, gentle but firm. he reciprocates without any hesitation, his right hand lifting to cup your face. after a few seconds, you feel his tongue slowly drag along the seam of your lips, encouraging you to part them. you oblige and he deepens the kiss with an appreciative hum.

the two of you finally part moments later, breathing deeply. you tilt your head forward to press your forehead against his as your hand moved from his injured shoulder to the back of his neck.

"better?" you murmur against his lips.

you feel him smile. "much better, but i think i may need more."

with a soft laugh, you close the small distance again. nikolai is slow and steady as he shifts on the couch, laying you on your back as he leans over you. he holds himself up on one hand and uses the other to rub gentle circles on your hip with his thumb.

your arms circle around his neck as you try to pull his body impossibly closer, feeling a fresh wave of heat course through your veins as he groans softly against your lips and slowly grinds his hips into yours.

he suddenly shifts and pulls away, cursing under his breath as he sits back on his knees. his hand leaves your hip to grip just under the bandage on his arm.

"are you okay?" you ask, sitting up on your elbows. you worried that the wound reopened, though he nodded to indicate that he was fine.

"i just put too much weight on it," he sighs and stares down at you. "we can continue."

as he leans forward to press his lips to yours again, you stop him with a hand against his bare chest. "i would love nothing more than to continue, but… maybe we should wait until you’re healed up before going any further, yeah?"

you’ve never seen such an intimidating man pout until now.

"but–" nikolai starts to argue before you shush him, pressing your forefinger against his lips. "no 'buts,' love. i just patched you up, you’re not ripping that wound open for sex on an old couch."

he motioned towards the hallway with his head. "there is a bed in the bedroom."

you furrow your brows and shake your head at him. "until you can perform without risking major blood loss, it’s a 'no.'"

with an overdramatic sigh, he shifts and lowers himself, resting on top of you with his head on your chest. you stifle a giggle as your fingers stroke his hair, a touch he leans in to.

"how long do gunshots take to heal?" he asks, voice slightly muffled against your shirt.

"a few weeks to a few months, generally." you hum while gently running your hand against the side of the bandages.

you’re unable to keep yourself from bursting out in laughter as he loudly groans in frustration and curses several times into your chest.

translations:

милая (milaya) - dear/darling

моя сладкая (moya sladkaya) - my sweet

принцесса (printséssa) - princess

ангел (angel) - angel

ублюдок (ublyudok) - bastard

Simon gives you a glare that would send hardened soldiers running, but all you do is snicker obnoxiously. You can't help it. It's the younger sibling within you. It's a part of your DNA to be intentionally annoying. A need to irritate someone for shits and giggles. In this case, that someone is Simon.

"Fine, I won't." You pat the bed and scoot over to your side a bit more. "Now get in here, old man."

"Call me that one more time, I dare you."

If he weren't nearly naked, save for the extremely well-fitted boxer briefs he wears, you might be more inclined to be less troublesome (not), but since he isn't, you choose to be an annoying little shit. Simon's annoying little shit.

"C'mon, just get in, you're so slow--"

Simon sends you a warning look.

"--like an old man."

He sucks in a sharp breath.

"A really, really old man."

"That's it."

--is the only warning you get right before Simon rips the pillow you're hiding behind from your hands and jumps in the bed to start tickling you. A shriek of laughter spills from your lips as Simon pins you down, fingers digging into sensitive spots along your body. He's relentless in his torture as he grins down at you.

"Simon--Simon, p-please! I wa-AHHS! Was o-only j-jok-INGG!"

"Oh, so now you wanna be sweet? What happened to all that talk of me being old?"

"I didn't--didn't me-EANN it!"

"Sure, and I'm the king of England."

Fuck, don't say it.

Don't say it.

"O-old like him, th-though."

Goddammit, why do you have to run your mouth all the time? Oh, wait, you know why. It's because you're an idiot.

Simon pauses to squint down at you, giving you a brief moment to catch your breath. Taking in large breaths of precious air, you try to blink away the tears in your eyes, savoring the break he's giving you because you know he won't be showing any mercy in the next couple of seconds.

"Si, you know I love you, right?"

The man above you tilts his head, considering your words as you at least try to appeal to his better nature. Try to delay his punishment.

"Go on."

Be sweet. Just be sweet and maybe you'll be shown an iota of mercy.

"You know I love you," you repeat slowly, sweat dripping down your brow, "and that I always will. No matter what. I will always love you."

Simon raises his eyebrows, unimpressed, as if to tell you to hurry up. Like he knows you're just trying to stall the inevitable. You gulp, trying to get the words out. Come on, you're capabable of being sweet.

"And that will never change. Even if you are old."

Fuck, nope.

You can't be sweet. Why can't you be sweet?

"Should've just kept your mouth shut, darling."