Archive of Our Own

Nasha knew that having the two Mickeys around was going to be an issue. Hiding this from Marshall, let alone all the other residents of Niflheim? Just the thought of either Mickey having to die was harrowing in itself… but who knew what was going to happen to her?

But now that she’d shaken Kai off their trail (accusations of being a snitch were a surprisingly effective tactic, she could keep her worries at bay for now). She knew she wanted to keep the two around for now. Selfish? Not really—both Mickeys clearly wanted to stay alive, and both clearly really liked her.

Mickey Barnes—adorable, goofy, hers. A doting boyfriend through and through, the type that others working in security teased her about because he clung to her like they were some strap of velcro. But the relationship never felt like a vice grip, never was overbearing; it was more akin to delicate lace draped over her shoulders, something that made her feel beautiful, something that made her feel like she was on cloud nine.

He was always there for her in those tough times. Most often when she’d break down at the thought of his struggles as an Expendable, or when working overtime on such a cold planet became a daunting task. And he’d hold her, gentle, and make everything feel right in the world. And every time else, he’d made sure to show his love in the small things: helping her when it was time to rebraid her hair, keeping her room clean when she didn’t have time for upkeep, always offered to take up the more mundane tasks she’d need to do but he knew he was capable of. Even on those days where he’d screw up a job, have his calories cut in half, he still offered her extra food.

It shouldn’t have been such a surprise that she was so elated at Seventeen and Eighteen’s simultaneous existences. And maybe she got some good rest that night, fantasizing about those two Mickeys having a ‘go at each other’…

By some miracle of God, a day had passed without the Mickeys being caught. Nasha went on with work, watching the perimeter of the ship (uneventful, as usual); Seventeen had gone off to work, doing some repetitive tasks in agriculture; and—lucky him—Eighteen spent the whole day napping. And beyond Seventeen and Eighteen having to ration their food between each other, both complaining even after they begged others for some calories, all was well. All three rejoiced as they all got to recoup in the room of Seventeen. Nasha sat on a chair across the edge of the bed, where both Mickeys sat.

“Are you boys getting along well then?” Nasha asked, in her bra and sweatpants. She watched Eighteen sew a hole in her sweatshirt (she hadn’t even noticed the hole around the hip had it not been for the pair!). “Should I have gotten off my shift early?” Teasingly asked, but in part a serious question—as much as she enjoyed the company, she wouldn’t have minded keeping watch if it meant keeping these two alive for a while longer.

Seventeen shook his head, nudging Eighteen who grumbled about getting the stitching wrong. “Look, this guy tosses and turns a lot, but I guess he ain’t that bad,” he said, as if he hadn’t just told her the long and winding story of attempted murder… or a sort of double suicide? She wasn’t too sure. “I swear he just about almost moved to your room, though.”

“Just about moved to my room,” Nasha repeated. She grinned, eyes now locked onto Eighteen who glanced up to meet her gaze. “You should have. Though I guess he might have gotten a bit attached, considering you two were at it like–”

“Look, we just got curious about if it’s masturbation or a handjob to jerk yourself off, okay?” Eighteen asked, his defensive tone making the red tinge in his cheeks all the more adorable. He handed Nasha her sweatshirt (she didn’t even notice him finish that!), and she slung it over the back of her chair. “They had all these discussions of clone ethics on Earth, but they never discussed this!”

“Yeah, we checked on my tablet. Nothing,” Seventeen added. “But… uh, I think a little grindin’ isn’t gonna kill anyone.”

“Okay, but you must have come up with an answer then,” Nasha said. She quirked up an eyebrow as her gaze bounced between the both of them. Every iteration of Mickey so far hadn’t been a genius, but surely one of them would have come up with an answer. Because now she was rather interested in this philosophical debate… the experimentation process that occurred…

The response was two shrugs. Nasha rolled her eyes before she giggled. She stood up to stretch, fingers intertwined, arms raised high over her head. And the whole time, she felt both of their gazes lingering on her body. Pure infatuation—she was sure she would see hearts floating in their irises.

“Mm… perverts,” she quipped. Seventeen averted her gaze while Eighteen stared on. This reminded her of yesterday: that failed threesome. She shivered at the thought, even though they hadn’t gotten in too deep until that damned interruption. Though… would these two be opposed to finishing what they had started? She hummed as she looked down at both of them, arms crossing over her chest. She was about to assess the situation: “Mickey?”

“Hm?” both replied. She’d forgotten she can’t just say the one name for now.

She couldn’t hide the suggestion in her tone: “Around this time yesterday… we had some unfinished business, didn’t we?” Nasha asked. She tilted her head, smiled a sweet smile.

And it was like the entire room had transformed into a sauna.

Seventeen tried to hide a sheepish grin. But he couldn’t hold back, practically baring all his teeth as he asked: “Unfinished business?” As if he couldn’t recall what had occurred the night before; that twitch in his sweatpants said otherwise. “We sure did…”

“Yeah, and as much as we finished each other off, we were still thinking of all that. I even dreamt of it,” Eighteen admitted without an ounce of shame, and Seventeen uttered a quick, ‘huh’ as he realized why Eighteen squirmed so much in bed. Nasha couldn’t help but bite down on her bottom lip as there was such an intensity that surged through Eighteen, one that had shot through her. “Are we gonna make it a reality then?”

Seventeen gasped. “You’re just gonna ask like that?”

Eighteen shrugged. “What, are you too scared to?”

Nasha could only laugh.

“Oh, Eighteen, you’re rather forward!” Nasha exclaimed. Part of her was glad she didn’t have to say it—it always took Seventeen a while to show he wanted sex. It took a few snuggles and kisses before he’d said he wanted anything. She slipped herself between them on the bed, slinging an arm around both of the boys, pulling them in to press her lips against both of their cheeks. Then her hands slid down, a false absentmindedness as she rubbed circles into both of their thighs—a shame the sweatpants were there, though. “I for sure would like it. But what about you two? Hm?”

Did she even have to ask?

Had the tension in the air been this thick before? Had both of them had such a wanting glint in their eyes?

She swore it all happened in a flash: their shirts pulled off, her bra unhooked but hanging right off her arms. Taking turns between the two of them, a back and forth between both of her impatient boys. A three way kiss, all three of their tongues touching, and then they were shifting positions. Eighteen lay on the bed, Nasha on top of him, and Seventeen right behind her. With the three of their bodies writhing against one another, it was no surprise that her sweat was already mixing with theirs. She was never enthusiastic when threesomes became a topic of discussion. She grew jealous much easier than she liked to admit. But with their current circumstances?

She could work with this.

She loved how Eighteen kissed her like it would be their last, desperate and rough, massaging her hips. She loved how Seventeen reached around to slip underneath the loose bra, caressed her breasts as he pressed kisses on the back of her neck. Even in the sheer feverishness of it all, even as both their cocks rubbed up against her, they still focused on her. She was whimpering into Eighteen’s mouth, panting when she pulled away. One of them pulled her bra off and tossed it aside, she couldn’t even tell whose hands those were anymore.

“I could get used to this,” she said just to tease. But with how they wouldn’t let her go, with how their rough hands continued to caress her body, the both of them were taking that statement seriously. She then noticed how both Mickeys had pulled away to look at one another, seemingly communicating through movements of the head or glimmers in the eyes or however Multiples communicated. “Now what are you two going on about?” she asked with a light whine in her tone.

Nasha wanted to continue asking what was going on as Seventeen slid off her, but soon she was giggling when Eighteen rolled them over and had her lying on her back. She glanced up at both Mickeys, staring down at her like she was some reverent goddess. Her cheeks suddenly stung with heat—attention from one Mickey was already heavenly, but two had her near bashful.

Though there wasn’t time to be bashful; before she knew it, Seventeen was tugging her sweatpants down alongside with her underwear, and she was bare before them. Though she wasn’t alone; in the meantime, Eighteen himself had stripped down to nothing as well, and Seventeen followed suit after tossing her clothes onto the now-abandoned chair. The two Mickeys had given each other a quick peck on the lips amidst it all.

“No hint to what you boys are up to?” Nasha asked, gaining shakes of their heads in return. She was breathless now, unable to look away from their now bare bodies, their erections rock hard, lips parted as they oggled each other—good lord, what a fucking sight. She was throbbing in between her legs, she was sure she was soaked. But she knew neither Mickey would enter her yet; Mickey was a fan of the foreplay, so she wouldn’t assume any different, even from the more aggressive Eighteen. “Not even a teeny tiny hint–”

Nasha let out a yelp as Eighteen grabbed her legs, but she giggled as he pulled her closer to the edge of the bed, and she swore she heard Seventeen say something about not tugging her around too much. As soon as she’d propped herself up on her elbows, she saw Eighteen kneeling down between her legs, pressing kisses up her thigh but with his eyes locked onto her heated center. He uttered a quick: “You trust us, don’t you, Nasha?”

Nasha beckoned Seventeen over with a tilt of the head, noticing how he’d simply stood to the side after stripping down. As he sat down next to her, it was then Eighteen licked a long stripe over her cunt, and she had to do everything in her power not to collapse on the bed. With a little grin, a little sigh, she pulled Seventeen down and pressed her lips against hers. Moaned into his mouth as she rocked her hips against Eighteen’s tongue as it focused on her clit.

“Fuck,” she murmured as she pulled away from Seventeen. It was like she was in a haze, with how Eighteen ate her out like he’d gone mad, and Seventeen gawked at her like he was a poor bastard being cheated on. “Why are you just looking, Seventeen? Afraid to touch me…?”

“Hell no,” Seventeen sputtered out as he grabbed two pillows for Nasha, placing them under her elbows so she could get a better look at both him and Eighteen. “Got no reason to be…” He then just about slid to the edge of the bed so he could bend down, grabbed one breast in hand, his thumb flicking the nipple as he leaned down to suck on the other. Eighteen—at the same time—sucked on her clit, and she swore she was on the verge of choking him in between her thighs, squeezing him in place as ecstasy filled her very veins with all this attention she was getting.

That Mild and Habanero comment—it was just some stupid joke, but it was making more and more sense the longer they went on. More accurate than she expected it to be.

Goodness, maybe a third Mickey…?

No, that was too greedy.

Nasha let herself lower down on the bed so she could run a hand through Seventeen’s hair, as he nipped and sucked at her chest with a desperation to please, kneaded her breasts with such a gentle touch. And perhaps something in her body had turned up her sensitivity there, as every little thing he did made her whine. He looked up at Nasha like he was trying to beg for approval, and the sight alone made her want to keep him down there forever. Only then she’d realized that this Mickey had been much more infatuated with her breasts—she’d never had a Mickey that hyper focused on this area of hers (maybe she’d have to list each and every Mickey’s infatuations later…).

In contrast, there was Eighteen going at it like he wanted her to come right then and there, eating her out with confidence she wasn’t sure other Mickeys had exuded. Wild wasn’t enough to put it; without her thighs keeping him in place, she was sure he’d be drooling all over her. Though she wouldn’t be so surprised if his chin, the tip of her nose would be coated in her wetness; he had such a way of toying with her cunt, alternating between those licks and sucks with ease, and it had her rocking against him with such want.

But she couldn’t be too selfish. Her boys needed a turn.

“Come on,” Nasha said, as much as she’d love to lie down there and be treated like royalty the whole night. “Let me make you two feel good, too…”

Seventeen’s head sprung up, a glint in his gaze like he’d won the lottery, drool all over his chin. Then there was Eighteen, licking a long stripe against her cunt before he was back to kneeling on the ground, half his face really was covered in her wetness. The both of them stared at her. Expectant. And it was then she realized it was time to give a few instructions, and she hummed in thought as she saw them panting, waiting. This was the point where she should probably think of some wild positions, have the Mickeys hold her up every which way just how she liked.

But she decided against it. She stayed put, lying on her back, atop those two pillows. There was no need to complicate anything that night.

That and the sight of the two Mickeys all over her was everything she could ask for and more.

So she spoke: “I’ll let you two choose who takes what–”

And just like that, both Mickeys were scrambling. Before she knew it, Seventeen was between her legs and already prodding at her entrance with his cock. There Eighteen was at her side, his cock positioned at her mouth. At least the two didn’t have to argue.

“What needy boys,” Nasha teased. She wrapped her fingers around Eighteen’s cock, wrapped her legs around Seventeen’s waist. “Want me that bad?”

“Only ‘cause we love you, Nasha,” Eighteen said with a satisfied smirk as he reached aside to pinch Seventeen’s cheek. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah, ‘course we do. We love you a whole lot, Nasha,” Seventeen said, licking his lips as he absentmindedly caressed her thighs with his fingers. Nasha noticed how Seventeen was beginning to gawk at Eighteen the way he would at her. And was Eighteen staring the same way right back? Were these two falling in love? She wanted to ask, make fun of them just a teensy bit more before the room would start reeking of sex–

But there was Seventeen pushing inside of her, stretching her out more than she could recall he ever had. And while Nasha stayed put so both could hear her cry, she raised her head to take Eighteen into her mouth, the head in her mouth while she stroked what she wasn’t taking just yet. Both let out their loud groans, let them fill the room; her moans were muffled as she’d forgotten how girthy Mickey even was.

As soon as Seventeen had bottomed out, he began a slow pace to his thrusts. Eighteen followed suit with the same pace, fucking her mouth though only pushing in up to halfway. She’d never felt so full before, but she savored the sensation—her Mickey made every little thing feel like heaven. Especially when those sweet moans left both of them without a hint of hesitation. Especially when Seventeen started rubbing circles into her clit. Especially when the two maintained this more sluggish pace for a long while, because they knew she liked to take her time at the start.

Damn it all, why’d they have to be interrupted yesterday?

Nasha sucked Eighteen off with need, tracing her tongue along the veins that made him shiver and shudder. Twisted her wrist as she pumped what didn’t go in her mouth with gusto. He couldn’t even meet her gaze anymore; his eyelids fluttered shut to some half-lidded gaze that kept threatening to close. But even then, it was difficult for her to focus; Seventeen had picked up the pace, and it was like each roll of his hips made sure his cock would brush against all the right spots. Nasha found herself clinging to the sheets in some attempt not to lose her mind. Her thighs trembled against him, toes curling as he quickened the movements of his thumb.

Though the pleasure had become overwhelming, the two still tried to speak. Seventeen spoke on in those incoherent rambles he’d fall into when it all felt too good: she was so wet, so warm, she was everything, he loved her so much. Eighteen was a tad more coherent: she was so good with her tongue, she had such beautiful eyes (what a romantic!), he loved her so fucking much. Nasha wished she could laugh at the two, utter her ‘I love you’s back; but with what bliss entered her body, all she could do was whine.

She pulled back for a moment from Eighteen but continued stroking him with a tight grip. “You both do me so good,” she said, letting her head rest back on the pillows, her tongue lazily licking at Eighteen’s cock as she tried to get herself together—an impossible feat as Seventeen was fucking her much harder now, and she always bordered on falling apart when he’d speed up like that. It was as if her muscles ceased functioning, and she was stuck to the mattress to be taken. Then, a reminder popped into her mind, and slipped past her lips: “Mm, you know you two can switch, right–”

“Can we?” Seventeen asked with wide eyes. “We can?”

“What did you think she said?” Eighteen asked, bending down just to press a kiss to Nasha’s forehead. Then he was already moving around to take up Seventeen’s space. “Come on…”

“No fighting now, boys,” Nasha said as she winked at the pouty Seventeen that moved to her and she now took in her hand. “You got a girl you gotta make come, after all.”

Speaking of needing to come, Nasha realized her orgasm was coming in much closer than she anticipated. It was already sizzling in her stomach, and it was like her muscles tensed in anticipation of what was to come. But she was sure both Mickeys knew what to do; the most mind-shattering orgasms she’d had were always at the hands of one Mickey Barnes.

Eighteen pushed in, fucking her at such a speed she didn’t expect but welcomed. She was back to letting each and every moan leave her, letting the noise reach every corner of this miniscule room. All the while, Eighteen tried to keep up with Seventeen, rubbed her clit the way he had—and his touch was a bit lighter, sloppier. But Nasha adored it, reaching down with her free hand to keep his wrist in place, to make sure she’d be coming from his fingers.

Seventeen didn’t even ask for her mouth; instead, he just fucked her hand, didn’t ask for anything more, just thrust in there as if he wasn’t deep inside her the whole damn time. Not even patient enough for her to start stroking, poor thing! But she still raised her head, sucked the tip, and tasted herself on his throbbing length—heady. She batted her lashes up at him, and he jumbled out some words, breathy and ruined. Maybe calling her gorgeous, pretty, something or other; she would have accepted all of it anyway.

Truth was, she wasn’t sure how any of them were going to go on for much longer. With such frantic paces, it was like an inevitability that someone was going to come first. Whether that was going to be Eighteen with his near-crazed fervor, Seventeen moving like he hadn’t had sex in ages, or herself where she was just… absolutely at a loss, frankly, she wouldn’t be surprised if all three of them would come together.

Though to her surprise, it was Eighteen who ended up coming first.

His brisk pace stopped abruptly as he let out this near-screech. He came, every muscle clenching as he just melted. Nasha gasped out as she felt his warmth fill her, pump after pump that coated her walls, and he was back to picking up the pace of rubbing her clit.

And really, that was all she needed.

Nasha cried out her pleasure louder than she knew she could, her grip loosening on Seventeen as she tightened around Eighteen. “Oh my god–!” She panted as her climax came in waves that crashed throughout her body. For a good while, it was like she was lighter than air, floating. But then it ended, and she was a panting mess, glued to the bed.

Seventeen didn’t stop fucking her hand as Eighteen pulled out, tried to catch his breath. Almost looked like he couldn’t, as it seemed like he’d gained that crazed look in his eyes that Eighteen had. And tired as Nasha was, she didn’t want to leave him hanging. She raised her head so she could suck on the tip, like she was trying to coax out his orgasm. What she hadn’t noticed when she did so was that Eighteen had moved around, reaching around to pull her hand off and jerk off Seventeen himself. Not a surprise; he’d know what he wanted most, wouldn’t he?

There, it was like that was the key to it all, and Seventeen just about collapsed as he finally came. His cum shot into Nasha’s mouth, and she didn’t hesitate to take every drop, letting the saltiness run over her tongue before swallowing. Eighteen never stopped jerking him off, she never stopped sucking until he whined that he was done, and the both of them had moved away.

Then Nasha was finally glued to the bed.

“This is what I missed out on yesterday?” Nasha asked with a tired laugh, eyes closed. Both of them slid into bed with her, still keeping her in the center, and she wasn’t sure who was where. She didn’t care; Seventeen, Eighteen, anyone from One to Sixteen, it was all still Mickey anyway. “Christ, I’m spent.”

“Yeah, me too,” the one on her left said—likely Seventeen, as he still panted the hardest. He wiped the sweat off of her face with what felt like a towel. When he got that, she had no clue. “I… but that was really fun–”

“Really fun’s one way to describe one of the best moments in our lives,” Eighteen replied, holding onto Nasha, snuggling up to her and hiding his face in the crook of her neck. “We didn’t get too wild for you, Nasha?”

“Too wild? No,” Nasha said, realizing how the room reeked of sex much more than usual—that mix of cum and sweat. She sighed. “I had a great time. I mean, I’d do it again–”

“If the both of us survive another day,” Seventeen said like some impulse response, and Eighteen groaned.

“Great, thanks for ruining the mood, jackass!” Eighteen complained.