Nikto X Reader - Blog Posts

Nikto from COD is actually so fine it should be a crime. His eyes, his voice and his attitude he’s just so😻😻😻

I literally love him so much it’s not even a joke. I would buy him everything he ever wanted and everything he wants. I’d cook for him, clean for him, and love him. I’d do anything for him.

Man I love writing weird ass nikto. Idk Nikto who kisses you and licks the spot afterward, wanting nothing more than to smother you in a thin layer of his drool. Idk Nikto who feels so fucking bad whenever he wakes you up because he was talking to himself a little to loudly.

"Apologies lyubov', we were ah...discussing."

Nikto who forgets to be non-violent sometimes so he ends up being doting almost angryly. Ie kissing you and peppering your face repeatedly, harshly gripping your shoulders yet not enough to hurt while he mutters,

"Moy lyubov', mine, my only, mine, we love you." Between each peck because he's too lazy to commit to an open kiss.

Nikto who switches between hot and cold often, kissing you rapidly then running almost comedically back to what he was doing earlier. The pure panic and realization that he got distracted is so raw you can't even be mad at him, only ushering a small, "Don't trip darling!"

"I don't."

While he runs back to the garage. Trying to find that leak you were talking about a few moments prior. Nikto who comes back a few later, shirt somewhat soaked in water or sweat as he makes his way to the shower. A simple man he is, somewhat one tracked as he gives you a dazed glance in the middle of fulfilling his 'mission' to get clean. Not even recognizing you in his path.

The texture of his wet cloth against his skin always itching him the wrong way. He has been so sensitive around texture to the point that he had to order a new custom made couch to replace the one you bought, same looks, different material.

"Leak is fixed."

He tells you as if he just saw you, barely even clothed as he dries himself. Far too comfortable in your own house, only wearing his underwear as he walks over you, making his way back to said couch.

"Let us go watch a show, da?"

Ushering you to sit beside him through random hand movements. Crossing and tangling your legs over each other, one below one above and so on. Using the makeshift platform as a table for your snacks. Leaning back to what looks like an uncomfortable position before he uses your weight as leverage to crack his spine.

Nikto who falls asleep midway through because he has the most irregular sleeping schedule. Finding himself awake a few hours later as he untangles himself from you, placing you back to bed and slotting you right back in his arms. Snoring loudly, comfortable at skin against skin for once in his life, the texture reassuring instead of hostile.

Ooooooouhh my toes are getting all sweaty and curly at the thought of him snookums

-({;})

YASSS bby ({;}) curly toes 🤣💗

I present to you…

Cringe things with Nikto 🫣🤍

Nikto truly believes he’s the best cook in the world. He isn’t, his food is borderline inedible. One birthday he made you a cake, used salt instead of sugar. You had to pretend to enjoy it while your eyes watered.

When you first met, Nikto was barely domesticated. Sleeping at weird hours and prowling around the house. Then he started reorganising all your kitchen cupboards to try and keep himself busy. Now he gets genuinely heartbroken if you move a single tin out of it’s place. “It’s my masterpiece milaya, don’t spoil it.”

Pounding you into the mattress one night, you both went in for a sloppy kiss at the same time. It was dark, his head smacked against your chin. You ended up in the doctors office with a profusely bleeding lip, dressed only in your lingerie and a coat. Nikto kept telling him it was a sex injury, while you died of embarrassment.

Nikto will call you at all hours of the day, wherever he is in the world, for almost feral phone sex. If you don’t pick up he leaves you the horniest voicemails. You made the mistake of answering your phone, at a set of lights with a cop car next to you once. Both officials gave you the thumbs up, as your boyfriend grunted through your vehicles speakers at full blast.

After your first minor fight, Nikto thought it was over. He got absolutely wasted because he was so miserable. Then you had to go and pick him up from the bar, while he told you vehemently how much he loves you. The slurring resulted in a lot of spit going everywhere, then he passed out fully clothed in your bed. Snored all night. You didn’t catch a wink.

You tried to go out for a nice meal one time, something romantic. But you both got chucked out of the restaurant, because Nikto managed to sweet talk his fingers into your panties. The owner threw a glass of water over him, when he asked them what the problem was. Needless to say it didn’t cool him off in the slightest. You’ve never been able to go back.

You bought one of those mould your own dildo kits, because you miss his cock when he’s abroad. You both got plaster everywhere, it ended up looking like a wonky mess and you couldn’t stop laughing. He chases you around the house sometimes with it.

He absolutely loves chick flicks, the cheesier the better. Has been known to shed a tear when the couple make their declarations of love at the end. It makes you giggle, seeing your extremely fierce man well up over the worst plot lines.

Nikto talks a big game, but when you get on top and ride him, he gets absolutely fucked dumb. Barely able to do anything but moan, eyes screwed up so he doesn’t cum on the spot. You could offer him reverse cowgirl and he’d give you anything you want in exchange.

mother!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

this made my day ten thousand times better wagghhhhhh (not an exaggeration, day was like 0.03 percent good and now it's 300 percent good.) i will cradle tiny nikto in my arms and let him know that he's loved, maybe hand him a little note to deliver to you about how grateful i am for yours and little nikto's presence :3

sweet and silly dessert thoughts with my fave cod men

nikto who would crawl through hell and back for a chance at hand feeding you your favorite chocolate covered strawberries. one hand holding the strawberry and the other delicately positioned underneath incase some chocolate falls. silently fawning over you as he watches your chubby cheeks bounce when you chew, just like a cute hamster, his little one.

nikto who declines having the strawberries himself, instead electing to steal a sweet kiss from your lips, the taste of sweet chocolate and strawberry now lingering on his lips. he simply can’t get enough.

♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

simon who looks surprised when he snaps back in from his reverie (he was busy staring at your cute face, yes he will deny it) and you’re holding the first bite of your fruit tart in front of his face. a little bit of tart crust, cream and some berries on it. his confusion melts into something more soft, adoring as he allows you to feed him the first bite of your fruit tart.

the bites go back and forth between you and him, until your treat is nearly gone and you’re happily feeding him the last bite. he’s all soft smiles and an even softer gaze as you skip hand in hand with him out the cafe. he casually leans down to press a chaste kiss to your forehead with a quiet but loving, “thanks, birdie.”

♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

kruger who snatches a bite of HALF of your lobster tail pastry when you’re too distracted by a cute dog. snickering whilst chewing when you turn around again, confusedly looking at your pastry before looking at him. and giving him a slap on the chest when he manages to giggle “boyfriend tax, haschen”. the look on your face is worth the scolding you give him after, just like a little angry kitty he says (he’s not helping his case)

after playfully harrumphing at him and ignoring his affections for two blocks he offers to make amends by buying you a pack of macarons, and pinky swearing he’ll ask first this time. (to his credit he actually does) which earns him a nice big kiss on his cheek in return, see schatzi he can be nice!

♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

johnny who buys you that slice of rich chocolate cake you were eyeing in the store. a bite or two of it is enough for you, it’s a little too decadent to have all at once but you don’t want it to go to waste. this is where johnny comes in, man is willing to eat just about anything you don’t want anymore, more than happy to in fact.

his only condition to it is that you have to be hand feeding him every bite of it. preferably whilst comfortably seated in his lap, so your day takes a detour to the local park. seated on the green grass whilst johnny hugs your waist and you hand feed him each bite of the cake until it’s all gone. he couldn’t ask for a better way to spend the day if he’s being honest. (maybe a small kiss to sweeten his day even more, bonnie?)

♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

gary whose eyes light up with excitement at the first bite of japanese strawberry shortcake. hand delicately covering his mouth as he chews, he gives you a cute vigorous nod when you ask him if he likes it. while feeding him another bite you decide to tease him a little.

“y’know what’s in common about you and this cake?”

he cocks his head a bit to the side (much like a cute dog) and shakes his head. you grin at him, “you’re both my favorite!” and the effect is immediate. a cute pink flush spreading across his cheeks and a little flustered giggle escaping him. he’s too adorable to resist, and you press a little kiss to his already pink cheeks.

“how about i make it for your birthday hm? how’s that sound?” he nods excitedly once more, feeding you the last bite of cake whilst nuzzling his head into your neck like a content cat.

Nikto would be the WORST enabler for procrastinating because he jumps at any opportunity to chill with you. He slips himself against you so subtly, so carefully, you don't notice till it's too late.

"I have so much laundry to do...". You'll ponder aloud, climbing into bed.

"we will do it together later, llubov. Do not worry". He'll assure you, also climbing under the covers with you. Tucking the blankets closer around you both as you struggle to not yawn.

"and that email... that I need to send". You'll pout, letting him cradle you against his chest, eyelids struggling to stay open.

"hmm... Yes". He'll mumble, nuzzling his nose into your hair, locking ankles with yours beneath the covers.

Meanwhile you're both snuggled under the duvet in your bedroom, the blinds drawn he did it on purpose, knowing it made you sleepy and you accidentally take a 4 hour nap.

Glare at him with those sleepy eyes, little one. He'll just pet your face with those rough thick fingers of his and usher you to settle down again. Another hour, please.

ah fuck it, thinkin abt: taking public transport with kruger and nikto (especially self indulgent bc i absolutely despise my commute)

going onto a train car hand in hand with nikto and it’s not so bad at first. it’s a little crowded but you’re not shoulder to shoulder with anybody (except nikto).. until the next station over where a whole flood of people get on and it turns into nikto essentially caging you into the train wall with his body.

the thing about nikto is that he and everything about him; from his height, to his built body, and even down to the aura he exudes. it all silently commands respect. so there’s a very, very clear distinction between nikto’s space and everyone else’s. and all other passengers aboard tries their damndest not to step into it, at all costs, even if the train is packed to capacity.

he glances down at you, mirth twinkling in his icey blue eyes. “are you ok, rodnaya?” his eyes never leaving yours, even with the intensity of the moving train and the slight sway of the floor.

a little nod from you has them crinkling in a way you’re intimately familiar with, which is when he’s happy. his heart flutters just a tiny bit, overjoyed at being able to protect you and keep you safe, even in mundane happenings like this.

his eyes then survey the train car again, making sure that no one’s too close to you. he leans his head down, murmuring into your ear, “look at them, khoroshenkaya, packed together like sardines in a tin.” he chuckles (unreasonably hot and dangerous considering the situation you’re in) and gently takes your chin in his hand.

“hm, and you.. my little prince/ss. my sweetheart. i’ll do whatever you ask, yes? anything and everything you want.” pressing a chaste kiss to your lips through his black surgeon’s mask.

by the time you and nikto snap out of your shared reverie you’ve missed your initial stop by three stations.

oops.

ah well, riding the train in the opposite direction now just gives him additional time to sweep you off your feet..even if you’re already dating.

˖◛⁺⑅♡

when the doors of the bus swing open, kruger always ushers you inside first. tapping his card twice on the reader (as if he’d ever allow you to pay for anything) and letting you to grasp his hand to lead him to your desired seat.

if space allows, he’d like for you to sit on one of those single seats, facing the aisle with him standing at your side as if he were your knight.

but if there were only those double seats available he’d assist you to sit in the window seat and him, the aisle seat. his arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulling you closer to his chest whenever the bus swerved a bit too hard.

and if there were no seats available?

kruger held onto the overhead grip, his leisurely stance very out of place with the wild way the bus turned this and that direction. his other arm was wrapped firmly against your waist, squeezing you tightly to his side.

“faring well haschen?” his hand rubs up and down your waist soothingly, eyes flitting to yours to see if you’re doing alright.

“yea—ah!” the bus swerves abruptly again, as if out to specifically ruin your day. kruger adapts easily, catching you before you could go flying (as if you weighed nothing), arm casually readjusting around your waist.

he sighs, exasperated from this god awful driving, coaxing you to cling onto him even more.

“hold tight, mausi.” he nuzzles his mouth into the crown of your head, a kiss through his mask. your arms wrap tightly around him, more akin to a python’s grip than an actual hug (he doesn’t mind, he never does). while bored, your eyes hone in on the way his arm tenses and flexes when he has to adjust his grip on the handle, downright ogling at him and his casual strength.

“enjoying the view, schatzi?” you can hear the smirk in his voice when his comment snaps you out of your daze.

“no.” your curt reply a little too fast, a bit petulantly as you bury your face into his chest, slightly flushed. he can only chuckle as he pats your waist comfortingly.

“ ‘s ok mein liebe. you can have more of this view at home.” he spends the remainder of the bus ride just admiring you and your cute little expressions when you catch him staring.

the rest of the ride goes well without a hitch (ie. you didn’t go flying through the bus’ front windows) even if you did get tossed around a bit.

and when the bus finally stops he wraps an arm around your shoulder, ushering you quickly out of the bus and nearly shoulder checking some poor sap on the way out.

kruger is one mean bastard and impatient to boot, and he’s not afraid to show it. ‘tsk-ing’ when someone’s walking too slowly for his liking or taking up too much room on walk ways

he WILL shoulder check someone for the above mentioned, he absolutely would. he’s more than willing to be rude to someone who’s annoying you (or heaven forbid, being MEAN to you, god help them) and in turn, him as well.

if someone’s standing too close or cuts you off when walking he’ll bark out an authoritative “watch it.” or “move.” it always sends people packing. and if it doesn’t? that nasty glare of his and murderous aura always does the trick.

has and will continue to run with you in his arms up and down the stairs. he got so fed up with the crowded stairs one time that he just scooped you up bridal style and ran up those stairs in 5 seconds flat, without even having to take a breath after.

“what mausi?” he questions, playing dumb and shrugging his shoulders. “you can’t just pick me up and run up the stairs seb!” you smack his chest, embarrassed. he laughs it off “well it worked didn’t it? and besides schatzi, what do i have these muscles for if not to help you, hm? i’m retired now, these are all for you.” and well. you can’t be mad at him after that can you?

god help any other passengers that happen to be nearby if both nikto AND kruger are accompanying you on public transport. everybody else would be maintaining a 6ft (minimum) distance from you three at all times, at all costs. (and, hey, no complaints from you, so. /shrug/)

Nikto can feel that something inside you is hurt. As a man torn by the devastation of violence, he can sense it. Seeks out the wound like a bloodhound, your precious self sinking in on itself like a retreating tide. Making yourself smaller and smaller, till your presence is no bigger than a little mouse.

It crushes him.

The thought of someone being anything other than gentle with you boils his blood. He gets angsty and tense, feels the need to gather you up into his arms as if to shield you from shrapnel. He's felt pain and humiliation, and to think someone as soft and sweet as you suffering anything resembling that kind of treatment? It frustrates him.

Nikto will be gentle with you. They will be gentle with you. Your precious heart, made of cherry jam and sugar- so sweet, he'll lick the remains off his scarred thick fingers. Scarred lips tracing over your closed eyelids, rough fingertips seeping into your sides.

He catches you gazing solemnly at yourself in the bathroom mirror- standing in your underwear, getting ready to hop into the shower. Your dear face fallen and solemn, your eyes empty and tearful. As if you were somewhere miles away- somewhere he couldn't reach. The thought upset him.

"our love". He grunts into your neck with a soft appraise. A soft kiss- bite- lick. Fingertips graze your waist, and he seizes you there- as if catching you from falling, catching you from recoiling away, catching you before you run. A soft muttered comehere is uttered against your temple as he coaxes you to step upon his booted feet, lifting you a little as you timidly coil into him like a shelter. You're so close now- his chin nudging attentively against your forehead.

Fingertips drag softly up your body, up and up, to cradle over your heart. You fluster, skin prickling with warmth, but sink into him like quicksand.

"you are precious. You know this, yes?".

You blink. Lashes filled with tears, and a soft indistinguishable noise bordering on a whimper leaves your throat. At that he holds you tight, swallowing you up in his arms as if to hold you together.

You're not even sure what your breaking point was. A bad day, the thoughts and memories piling up, quickly drowning you like quicksand. Sinking lower and lower till you feel swallowed in isolation. You loathed how words could stick to you like that- how they tore you apart, making you feel too delicate for this world. Too delicate to live.

Nikto cradles your hands like eggshells, thick arms and shoulders swallowing you up like a shelter. His body heat and scent smothering you like a weighted blanket.

He's not delicate, little one. Let him be what catches you when you fall, the one who soaks up your tears with the hem of his sleeves. Let him know you're not alone in this world. You have him. All of him.

Krueger notices how nikto now rests the weight of him gun against his chest as he takes his turn to sleep during his lookout shift.

He's trying to replicate the weight of your head resting on his chest.

Seeing his face goes a bit....unexpected....to say the least.

Sfw

Imagine Nikto who drops his mask when he thinks he's alone vs you who walks into the room about to ask for his weapon details and both of you just stare for a moment because he's internally panicking and dying inside until he suddenly drops dead on the floor face first to try and cover his face and try to give himself minor brain damage to forget this ever happened because

A. You were not supposed to see that. Like at all

B. He doesn't wanna lose you just yet

And you just have to forcefully pick him up before trying to fix his already and even more crooked nose. Said nose is currently bleeding by the sheer force and weight of his drop while he's muttering apologies apologizing about how you have to look at him, as if it wasn't your choice. silently burning every time your skin grazes his in the process of you fixing his literally broken nose :((

He doesn't even register the pain of a bone being pushed back into place as you wrench his nose back into place, just his internal voice screaming at him to hide and run away from your gaze because even if your eyes as soft as they are, they feel as though you are shunning him and that's the last thing he ever wants :((

Muttering a, "no need, lyubov', we have survived far far worse" when you tell him to go to the infirmary as if you're not looking at the evidence of that with your own two eyes at the very second :((

Unconsciously he curls his hand around your shoulder, unwilling to let you go even if you try to run away. He sighs in relief, as if you don't notice his sudden grip and anxiety, he suddenly sighs and agrees, a sad almost desperate look in his eyes. But he only agrees on the condition that you come with him because he needs to make sure you won't ever leave him in the short time he's away.

Nikto who's been insane because he needs to feel your skin under his lips- or tongue- or against his skin just anything-

Nikto who wraps his arms around your waist, keeping you in place as he kisses your forehead the very second he's free from the infirmary, only a quick bandage wrapping before he can finally feel his loves skin under his lips, darting his tongue out to lick your forehead because he needs to taste your skin before he goes even more batshit crazy. Arms wrapping around your waist, keeping you still as he laps at your face like a dog with its owner after realizing you actually won't run away in fear.

Nothing but those harsh eyes turned into soft puppy eyes and his hot tongue insistent to warm up your heart all- just and only for him :((

Part: 2

Masterlist

i didn't feel like drawing hair, have nikto with reader instead, thank you everyone who has reached out to me during my absence, expect an image from me this new year

indonesia, i have to write a paper about you, i hope i will do you justice

Nikto who likes to just...switch positions sometimes. A simple tap to get your attention, sometimes he just doesn't want to break the quiet. So you'll tilt your head at him, peacefully laying on your stomach and beginning to crawl up. Hovering over you.

He's not going to force you to, but if you lower yourself to his stomach. Letting his thighs go around your chest and hum gently to him he'll run his scarred hands through your hair. Brushing strays from your face and patting it down so he can cup your face unobscured.

He's far too tall to bend down to kiss you without breaking his back so he shifts himself a little further down the bed. Legs wrapped around your waist and squeezing tightly when he presses his mask to your cheek. Up the tip of your nose, to your forehead before he retires his mind for the night. Resting his head right next to yours.

crying ue ue ue ue ue 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

bro i wish i had a nikto who could help me brush my hair

Nikto who looks horrible in the sunlight, the sun highlighting all his scars and features to turn him back into himself. He didn't like it. He preferred the night sky that blurred his features, reducing his sight and letting his see and breathe easier.

The cold night air comforting to his tortured lungs as they breathed you in. Shielding you away to any onlookers of the alley to feel you pressed against them. Keeping a hand so your dress and skin wouldn't be soiled by the filth of the wall.

"Just one more kiss and we will go home", the man whispered harshly as he took your breath again and again. Leaving marks in his touch, concealed by the night.

Seconds before he brings you home with a familiar coat around your shoulders.

Hoarder Nikto or Minimalist König?

both!

thinking..thinking.. thought thunk!

minimalist!konig.. mmmh, könig sees no use for worthless things, he keeps what he needs close and that’s all that matters, it’s what’s worked for the past 30 odd years—why would he change his ways? he’s a simple man, with simple ways. a simple life, kill, eat, sleep, repeat. he doesn’t see an issue with the limited belongings in his house, a tv & sofa in his livingroom, a bed and wardrobe in his bedroom.

it’s like something out of a jail, and when he brings you over for the first time— you have to double check you’re inside a house, looking up at könig as he made you some soup in the kitchen, ginger hair tied up in a messy bun.

‘you don’t decorate?’

‘ nein. i do decorate.’

‘..where? the fucking titanic?’

when u move in, safe to say you add your own sparkle and spice to his once-blank house, although, he’s not pleased.

~

hoarder!nikto… oh, god. this man doesn’t know when to let go, he’s afraid of losing, afraid of letting go despite his adaptation to loss—and that affects his day to day life, he has thousands of letters stuffed in his drawers, receipts tucked into the folds of his wallet, old trinkets rammed into closets and cluttered atop hall-tables, poor sputnik has to jump over a few things sometimes.

it’s not disgusting, he’s not a pig—but it’s not healthy. you come over to his house, lips tangled together as you stumbled through the door, almost tripping over the large collection of boxes that gathered in his doorway, spending the rest of the evening attempting to convince him to rid of items, instead of fucking.

‘what about this, it’s a fucking wooden mouse.’

‘that is rat. kitty likes it.’

‘kto-to can live without a wooden fucking rat, nikto.’

‘we cannot.’

he’ll never change, but all you can do is slowly sell things and hope he never realises, or give them to charity.

‘why the fuck our many clocks gone?’

Wrote this up with some help from @fishsinsareacknowledged , please check out their cod content it's so yummy!!!

Nikto who acts like a territorial and hypervigilent guard dog whenever a repairman/electrician is in the home. He doesn't like it. He can do it just fine, take care of your home. Ask for him- no need for a guy to come over. Nikto you can't fix wires for shit dear

He's constantly hovering- stoic and watching. Monitoring, he likes to call it. You think he's trying to set the poor repairman on fire with his stare. Stood in the doorway with his arms crossed firmly across his broad chest, icy feline eyes staring at him like the man was a juicy mouse.

Nikto who makes useful commentary orders towards the repair guy.

"Hurry".

"Hm. You are using the wrong tool, here, this is better".

"Do this- not like that".

Nikto who won't leave you alone in a room with the man. He's peering over his shoulder to keep an eye on you- paranoid about a stranger being in your safe space. He's not distrustful of you- far from it. He'd let you hold a razor to his throat and not feel an ounce of fear. It's this stranger he doesn't trust.

Afterwards he's sombre. Solemn. Paws at the nape of your neck with a warm palm, grumbling a deep gravely sigh- a sigh of relief now that this unfamiliar man and his unfamiliar smell is out of your home now.

"we were...Hostile. Very sorry llubov". He struggles to swallow his own words, but his eyes are sincere. You scratch at his chin playfully. He melts against your nails.

"guard dog".

"yes ma'am".

Nikto is chopping wood when it hits you. You're watching from your back porch door, a porcelain mug of hot chocolate cradled in your warm palms.

It's cold- far too cold for Nikto to be chopping wood in your garden right now. A thick layer of frost blanketing everything in sight- in which he had scraped your car for you earlier this morning whilst you were still in bed. He's still in his sleeping clothes; his thin black shirt that stuck to his body in a thick sleeve or fabric, and those baggy grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips. He's still refused to let you stitch the hemming- which is frayed and worn. Insisting that it is no use fixing it. There's no fixing it, llubov. I'll let it fray and throw it later. No use.

It was certainly a sight. He had drunk his tea down quickly once he noticed your shivering shoulders. Wrapped you up in that fluffy cream nightgown of yours, and set out to fill the fireplace. A silent promise to keep you warm. To provide. He had shot you a stern look at the sight of you lingering in the doorway- your pyjamas shorts and lack of slippers irking him. You wanted to roll your eyes at him. Used to his picking. You are a little warm soft thing. You need to stay warm.

"you're acting like a husband". You quip softly. Playfully, that smile that could warm butter on your pretty lips. "Do you want to be my husband, Andre?".

"yes".

Nikto's sincere raspy voice is sincere as he answers immediately- stunning you into silence. Glancing up at you to fix you an intense stare as he split the log with his hands. Something soft and eager in his eyes. Apprehensive on his own behalf, but filled with longing.

"you'll always be warm". He vows. Eyes filled with something- devotion. So tremendous, that it rattles you to the bone. His eyes meet yours, and you're not sure you can look away. Can't find your hands to sever the line. Pinning you down. He makes the first move- leaving the axe by the tree stump, shoes crunching in the glittering frosted grass. Approaching you like a weary hound.

"then in that case, may I mend these then?". You mumble. Now shy, your heart quivering at the intensity in his face. His hand meets yours as it brushes over the frayed hem of his sweatpants- a warm, halting hold. An unsure pause, you think... Before his shoulders relax a little, and his fingers wiggle softly between yours to melt into an embrace of hands. A gesture so sweet, so unsure and new to him, it was his turn to fluster. Feline eyes wandering from your eyes to your fingers clasped with his.

"yes. I... Let's try".

Nikto baring more than just scars. Something new. Something deep. Something stark against his grizzly ice cold visage.

Nikto with smile lines around his pretty almond eyes. Feline-like eyes all soft and relaxed when he looks at you, glacial blue irises swallowed up by the black of his pupils. It's when he goes back to work that Krueger notices the little creases indented around his shadowy eyes. stern. Cold. But still weeping with the marks of something soft and warm.

Nikto with a big slavic nose. It's so often covered with his mask, and he's always gently nudging you with it. It's beautiful- no matter how many times he rejects the compliment. The happy grumble that leaves his throat when your lips grace against it. It's no longer muffled and trapped against thick taut fabric- a striking feature hidden from sight. Now it hides in your hair. Your neck, the scent of your skin and sweet shampoo replacing the dirty fabric that smells of cold and grit.

Nikto's lips are torn and scarred, and yet they're so warm. Warmed by the tea he drinks with you, warmed by your soft lips gracing his. You let him kiss you. You let him. Your pretty mouth, so good- too good for what he feels he can offer.

He becomes something more than just a hideous snarl, a gnarling dog's bite. Baring his teeth to preserve what's left of his dampened soul, what's left of his tattered body. A corpse aching for more than just coarse dirt.

Your name seldom leaves his gnarling teeth. It's hidden between the seal of grit teeth and firm tongue- it's not meant for anyone else. You gave it to him. Your name exchanging between mouths. between teeth. You gave it to him so sweetly- so easily. As easy as breathing. How could he not give his back for such a gift? He has to protect it. From both comrades and enemies alike. They couldn't appreciate it like him. Not utter it like a prayer, filling his lungs with air and purpose.

Nikto who turns his nose up whenever someone remarks about the little subtle changes about him. Who needs to know? They don't need to know. He's not sweetened. Don't be ridiculous.

Lying has never been his strongest skill. But he can stay silent. He's good at that.

He can keep this secret. His secret.

Sorry if you don’t like 18+ thoughts.

I think he has an innocence/corruption kink. Cause in his eyes he is a corrupted, broken man. Unworthy of love or any kind of affection. And just seeing the purity (in his partner or whatever) that was taken from him, makes him want to take it and keep it forever in his scarred claws.

Of course not just in taking one’s virginity or being the first blowjob. But also seeing the happiness of his partner and wanting to keep them happy and just for himself.

U know

oohhhh!!???

Your home is a sanctuary to Nikto.

His apartment is suitable. But it's not warm like yours. Loneliness is embedded in the cracks in the walls, the shadows that weep in the unlit rooms, the squeaky clean shower is stark white and smells too much of bleach. It's a house. A place he exists. Haunts. A place to rest his buzzing, busy head. Cold pillows and sheets biting chill into his hot skin. He seldom finds rest there. Sleep? Yes. But the rest never quite reaches him.

But with you? Your home, your sanctuary. That's where rest is.

nikto finds you asleep, your form curled up small on top of your freshly washed covers, and he just stops and watches you for a bit. His whole world slowing down to something soft and calm, the sight of you breathing peacefully all safe and warm, makes the home feel homier. Warm, safe.

Hes slow and heavy as he lugs on over to you, the mattress dipping as his weight seeps into it. Nikto hovers over you for a moment- hands smoothing over the winkles in your shirt, fingers dipping under your top to spread out upon your stomach. Feeling you breathe beneath his palm. Everything feels quiet. His head still and softly humming with the murmur of voices. Hushes. Content whispers.

Leaning down, like a big snuffling doberman, his nose presses into your cheek- into your hair. Inhaling and huffing contently. Your hair is still a little damp from the shower, and it smells so strongly of that yummy shampoo you use.

With a low, grumbling grunt, he settles besides you. Around you, like a shielding wall. He wraps himself around you, nudging a knee between your legs so he can entwine with you- somehow. You're smaller than him, much more fragile. Your skin is soft and untarnished, and you smell of gentle soap suds and warm fabric freshener. His muscles are tense and locked as he lays pressed against you. His stomach is hard and tense as it flushes against your back. He probably smells like rain and grey. Like cold and salt grit.

But you sweeten him. You always do.

quick doodle, no ref, we ball 🙏

Imagine taking Nikto's cigarette from his deformed lips to snatch a kiss from him before poking his cigarette back in between his mouth.

Like, he's just sitting alone with the bottom half of his mask clipped up so he can take in his daily dose of nicotine, malnourished lips making him unable to have the best suction so the cigarette burns before he's even done with it.

But when you managed to sneak up on him smoking away on cheap cigarettes, you couldn't help your greedy fingers as you creeped up and snatched it. Nikto was damn about ready to jump you, but seeing that it was only you, his beloved friend and coworker, he could let it slide. Just this once, he tried to convince himself.

But it became routinely. He'd pull out a cigarette and light it for himself before handing it to you for you to take a drag. While tobacco wasn't exactly a favourite of yours, you only took a drag simply because Nikto had put his mouth on it before you.

An indirect kiss, perhaps?

~~~

@fishsinsareacknowledged @zoloftwithdrawalnausea @simp4konig @vxmpyree @frogcereal29 :))

crying (good)

Imagine taking Nikto's cigarette from his deformed lips to snatch a kiss from him before poking his cigarette back in between his mouth.

Like, he's just sitting alone with the bottom half of his mask clipped up so he can take in his daily dose of nicotine, malnourished lips making him unable to have the best suction so the cigarette burns before he's even done with it.

But when you managed to sneak up on him smoking away on cheap cigarettes, you couldn't help your greedy fingers as you creeped up and snatched it. Nikto was damn about ready to jump you, but seeing that it was only you, his beloved friend and coworker, he could let it slide. Just this once, he tried to convince himself.

But it became routinely. He'd pull out a cigarette and light it for himself before handing it to you for you to take a drag. While tobacco wasn't exactly a favourite of yours, you only took a drag simply because Nikto had put his mouth on it before you.

An indirect kiss, perhaps?

~~~

@fishsinsareacknowledged @zoloftwithdrawalnausea @simp4konig @vxmpyree @frogcereal29 :))

I can't stop thinking about Nikto being a melodramatic bitch, you can't talk to this man for shit.

Like you're trying to plan a date:

"Hey baby are you free tomorrow?" You ask with your phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder, comparing packages of chicken for dinner. You know he eats a lot. "No man is free when he has to work for a living," Nikto tells you without a hint of hesitation, "but we are available."

or he cuts himself helping with dinner:

He holds his sliced finger up to the light, inspecting the wound while your eyes widen. He seems to sense you panic, probably with the way you're furiously googling "how to tell if you need stitches" and glances your way, setting the knife to the side. "The only pain we cannot suffer is being away from you." He assures you. "That's great baby," You tell him in a rush, already grabbing your keys, "wrap a towel around that and get in the car.

Or worse still running into one of your friends:

You'd sent Nikto to grab some beer from the cooler, while you chat with your work friend at the pharmacy counter. She's nice, you like her, definitely could see her becoming an outside of work friend. Until Nikto shows up with the six pack in hand. "Woah, he is big." She grins, Nikto grunts and glances towards the bustling pharmacy technicians. "I bet you don't get much sleep with this guy around," Your friend jokes, nudging you with a wink. You feel yourself warm, your cheeks pulling at your lips with an embarrassed smile. "We do not sleep," Nikto grumbles, "we only fall into darkness until the sun brings us back." You wince. You friend gives you a look with a strained smile.

You just want him to stop saying odd shit.

Nikto who used to hate people touching him even accidentally on his sides. The skin there untouched even by his tormenter. Back scarred and heavy while his waist and chest's sides remain untouched. Scars building up on his arms and hands.

Nikto who pauses for a moment when you accidentally graze his sides. Apologizing for your actions before he pulls you into private and tells you to do it again.

"Just do that again, moya lyubov'."

"hm? Like this?", it was odd. Utterly confusing how quick the man slept when you petted him. Insomniac for the better half of the year you dated until you figured out he liked gentle touch. Nothing overwhelming until he called for it.

"Lower, sides", and he was weighing you into the bed. A soft sigh escaping his lips while you petted the sides of his hips. His body going still as you scratched gently, eliciting a purr from the cat-like man. Heavy bastard <3.

They should smoke into each other mouth I think

oh absolutely!!!! they def smoke. and kiss tgether in secret. also i hc reader in this to be noncomforming or guy

behind closed doors-- behind concrete paved walls and wiry fences-- nikto finds solace in smoke and flickering lighters.

your palm cups over your lighter as the flame catches on your cigarette, guarding him from the fire. you keep his eyes away from flames, never letting him catch a glimpse or old wounds would start to itch.

you meet like this often. you're like teenagers, slipping away from a house party to meet on the rooftop or by the bright pool. you breathe smoke into one another's mouths as you whisper in confidence in between dry, chapped kisses. you know of his achievements, his dreams, his fears-- you will take these glimpses of his life to your grave, and nikto will do the same for you.

wwaaaeeeww yes please!!!

"Smiling at the person that doesn't like me."

-Cheer for babies/And The Kids

Tw: Self deprecating thoughts, mostly sfw just angsty, alcoholic/smoker nikto

Nikto didn't like you. At least thats what you thought. You couldn't see behind the mask. You couldn't see the countless nights he's pondered getting down on his knees and begging you to have him, to kill him or let him live he'd let you decide.

A sinner to a judge, endlessly skewed only to be brought underneath your presence.

He prays you'll save him, sometimes just the thought of you saves him.

You save him from countless nights of blackout drinking. Saving him from endless chain-smoking. Save him from ending it all.

Sometimes he understands it. How he was raised, maybe they had it too.

Maybe they were as sick in the head as he was.

Maybe then he'd understand it all.

Oh how he'd treat you to the finest things if he could. Restrained by his own pride. What a useless thing he was told to upkeep. Would pride have saved him from countless beatings? Would pride have saved him from poison poured into his brain from his ears and tongue?

Would pride let him have you?

He should throw it all away really. Just ignore his own life and thoughts to be your toy. Its a fate befitting for him, something new, recycled.

Strip himself nude and prostrate himself for your amusement.

What foolish thoughts.

But it was befitting for him.

Maybe he could live at your feet. Rediscover ways to feel, teaching an old dog new tricks.

Maybe he should just be normal and treat you to a dinner date. It would he normal, maybe not to him but maybe to you.

Drink a couple wine glasses and eat, a compromise between him and you.

It sounds nice in theory but could he handle all that? Maybe for you he could.

Become nice and sweet for you, something better for you yet still his own person.

Fuck, you were changing him into a person.

He should smile back when you smile at him.

God damnit Nikto would have such heavy breaths. From the way his mask is made, full coverage leaving not even a space to breathe even you can tell from a mile away that he had good healthy lungs. Lungs that could bear being squeezed and suffocated for hours and still get a good exercise in.

Something about the way he breathed when he was just using a cloth to cover his face. Something rough about how his throat is scarred and deformed from how much he screamed and begged.

Something about how he liked to breathe you in. A soft almost shy look in his eyes after he ducked down just to get your scent in his lungs, warm, sweet.

Something about how he slowed and quieted his breaths down when you sleep with him. Making sure he doesn't move too much or wake you up with his breaths because it would kill him mentally.

Nikto who accidentally wakes you up because he's having a panic attack about his own breathing. Far too controlled to be comfortable for him to breathe, too soft, too little breaths against the side of your head.

"Nikto are you-"

"We are fine little star-", and he speaks too softly it turns into a wheeze. He wasn't made for whispers.

"Nikto baby, you can breathe, I'm not gonna be-"

"We- we woke you up, forgive us just-"

And he heaves when you pull his head to his chest. Suffocating him in that familiar way his mask normally does, it turned him soft. Weak.

He doesn't speak for a while, just breathing so very heavily against your chest. Your scent dizzying and yet so damn calming. The next time you check on him, he's asleep. They'll talk in the morning.

Angst comfort with jealous Nikto? Maybe some comforting Nikto?

friends to something ambiguous guys! friends to something ambiguous and a little heartwrenching! i love friends to will-they-won't-they! anyway sorry if this is kinda odd?? ivebeen in sick and fever dreamy the past couple of days I've worked on this

there's a new man on your squad. the upper brass transferred him from a different squad, citing an influx of inappropriate anger toward certain people.

and the moment he shows up, nikto doesn't like him. there's something about his dark, leering eyes that makes even his skin crawl. but what seals the deal for him is that he immediately goes to talk to you.

he's all over you, every day. he'll squeeze between you and nikto with his trey in the mess hall, pushing nikto out. the man visits you before lights out, stripping you of the little time you have to relax. but worst of all, you don't seem to mind.

nikto knows that this man isn't good news, but he can't point fingers without a good reason. that'd only alienate you further. he stays up for days, digging and digging, only to come out completely empty-handed. god, he must be good at covering up his tracks… or, maybe he just doesn't have anything wrong with him.

this whole ordeal pisses him off. he can't stop thinking about your cheeks warming when you talk to your new friend, and of you dolling yourself up before you see him. oh, nikto just wants to claw his own eyes out!

maybe nikto is just jealous… ah, no. he couldn't be. he doesn't get jealous.

two weeks into your newfound friendship, it dawns on you that nikto isn't hanging around as often as he used to. it's only ever the new guy and you, and if you manage to catch nikto around base, he's brooding and disinterested. you tire of this. you miss your friend-- you miss nikto. what happened to cleaning rifles together and dozing off in eachothers' quarters? you won't stand for this any longer.

it's late at night when you confront him. your spare key still fits into his lock, and you still have to lift the door to open it. he's sitting straight up in bed with wild eyes watching you. he never looks at you like that. nikto always knows when it's you, doesn't he?

you shut the door behind you with a soft click, taking care not to stir anybody nearby. your footfalls are light against the cold, hard floor, and they stop once they reach the side of his bed. he hasn't reached for a firearm or blade of any sort. maybe he isn't as mad as you believed.

you move to sit on the edge of the mattress. what should you say? you had a faint outline for what you planned on confronting him about, but the moment you walked in and saw those wide eyes of his, none of it seemed all that important.

your head turns to look at him. his face is hardly visible under the cover of the dark, but every little shuddering breath gets his point across. he's upset, deeply so, but he can't just say that. he can't just… talk to you. it's never that easy, not for him.

but, you've come to understand him; you know when nikto is upset. and this time, you know why he's upset too.

"…i'm sorry. you need a friend, don't you? i haven't been one," you whisper.

you want to hold him tight and tell him just how sorry you are, but he'd never let you hear the end of it if you did. you know by now that he doesn't like being touched very often.

something brushes against your fingers. they curl as a twitch rolls through your knuckles, but it persists.

it's his hand, his fingers. his scuffed palm moves to lay over the back of your hand, and his nails lightly itch your wrist.

maybe this is still salvageable. jealousy may not be the end of this.

yes i agree 👍 oh to be doted on by nikto...

nikto digging his fingers into groping his beloved :3

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Nikto who struggles with telling you how he feels about you, so he uses signs like acts of service or quality time, always making sure you don't seem repulsed by his company.

Nikto who strives to make you feel happy even if it's at the expense of his body or mind. He'll go to great lengths to cook or clean for you, do things around your home to make sure everything's in working order just how you like it. (He probably spent a lot of time learning your lifestyle to figure this out.)

Nikto who genuinely loves how you react to things. He tells you something he didn't think was funny, and your sweet little laugh to his words makes the Russian's dull heart brighten just a bit. Some stupid cursing because he fucking stubbed his toe? He doesn't care if you laugh hysterically because of it, it doesn't matter anyway.

Nikto who finds it cute how whenever you accidentally injure yourself, it always ends up in either a pouty expression, or a frustrated glare. Call him weird for it, but he was so used to turning off his emotions that seeing you express them made him fascinated. It also made him a bit more open to expressing himself too, even if it was a bit... different.

Nikto who likes when you two take baths together. Your fingers gently cleaning his scarred back and shoulders. The scars on his face being tenderly cleaned out by you, and he repaid the favour by cleaning your torso too. It was always a conniption because Nikto loved ice cold baths, and you couldn't stand ice water.

Nikto who is so in love with you that he tries to get himself involved with your culture. He'll learn your favourite foods, how to cook them, how you celebrate things, simple words in your language, etc. It's a small way to show you his commitment to you without a ring or a promise.

Nikto who adored how you look, regardless of anything. You're too skinny? That's okay, he loves cooking for you. You're too fat? That's okay, he's a soldier for a reason. You're too short? That's okay, you're just as adorable. You're too tall? That's okay, better hugs.

Nikto who probably worships the fucking ground you walk on. You're literally sent from the heavens, a gift made just for him and he's eternally grateful for your presence, your support and love.

Nikto who definitely gropes you randomly, lightly squeezing any part of your flesh and touching the soft skin with great adoration. Who cares if you have body acne, keratosis pilaris, scarring, eczema, whatever else? You're just so gorgeous to him, he can't get enough! He's a simple man with simple needs.

@zoloftwithdrawalnausea @fishsinsareacknowledged :)) it's all fluff but i think it's sweet

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Oooh taking off nikto's mask thoooo

when you saw nikto's face for the first time, it was on a balmy night. you were deployed to a small section of the middle east, hunting down one of zakhaev's groups. but it'd been so, so long, and even a man such as himself, one burdened by the need for revenge, can only wait for so long.

so, you set up camp for the night.

you traded cigarettes with one another. he had the cheap, crude kind-- the sort that you smoke only to take the edge off. (really, you only liked them because his chapped lips touched each one before he passed them onto you.)

you still remember the look in his eyes. he was magnetic, this character that disturbed you but drew you in with every little quip and brooding look. there was-- is-- something about him that you just can't shake.

the night set in, and after smoking for quite a while, you both got into the tent. it was small. if a strong wind came through, it would've knock it down with the two of you in it. but you weren't nervous, not with nikto around.

he always wore a face-covering, often a mix of fabrics and tactile material. you knew of the campfire tales from your rookie days of what he endured, of how zakhaev tortured him, each story more exaggerated than the last. you don't really know what happened, you just know it was bad enough for him to always hide behind a mask.

like a fool, you asked him about it. and he answered by turning around, presenting the clasp to you, daring you to release him from the measly pieces keeping the mask together.

you did. your fingers hesitated before undoing the clasp, but you did it. he did not flinch-- he wasn't bluffing or trying to prove a point. he just let you do it, and you weren't sure of why. maybe it was because you were alone, or that he liked that your mouth touched his cigarettes, or maybe he just wanted to give you something to write home about.

was he beautiful, or ugly? was he "atrocious" and "blighted by scars?" maybe. maybe not. this character that people formed, that he played into, was not all it was made out to be. he looked just as tired as everybody else, just as sullen. you saw him as andre that night, not just nikto, the man who kills and terrorizes.