TRASH SUGAR MAGIC
➛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 8: ᴘᴀʀᴀᴅɪꜱᴇ
➛ nikolai gogol x fem!reader
➛ cw: suggestive, angst, mild fluff | words: 5.5k
➛ ao3 | spotify | main menu | discord (18+)
Soft.
Something feels so soft, so comfy—warmth.
Nikolai frowns as his consciousness is slowly fading in. His body is strained and heavy but he fixes his arm, hugging the pillow a little closer as he leans his head back against the warm cushion. The quilt is strangely velvety this time, as if he is not lying on the floor, but rather a mattress.
Hold on.
He does not remember laying on a mattress. He does not remember having another pillow to hug and cuddle with. His sleep for the past several weeks has been uncomfortable—he is practically training himself to be mummified and prepared for a coffin sleep.
His eyes snap open. What he sees is the fabric of one of his sleeveless shirts covering a body—a female body. His face is directly in front of a mound. Faint pink bleeds onto his face when he starts to realise what is happening. Panicked, Nikolai gets up from his position.
A gasp. Maybe two—coming from both of you.
“A-Ah—!” You wince slightly, flinching at his abrupt movement. You rub your eyes, lifting your body a little bit from the mattress. “Kolya… good morning…” Your voice is dreamy and Nikolai finally has a good look on you. You are wearing his sleeveless shirt, with a pair of shorts—that he had to buy two weeks ago for you since you cannot fit his pants—and your body is draped with his sweater jacket.
Nikolai swallows hard as he feels scorching hotness crawling all over his insides, coating his heart with flusters.
“Are you okay? You’re…” You scoot closer and although his heart is shouting at him to lean back, to avoid you, Nikolai stays. Your hand reaches up to his cheek. “You’re red… Are you still tipsy?”
Tipsy, yes! Foggy memories come rushing in and Nikolai can vividly remember drinking with Viktor last night. He can see the vision of him chugging whiskey straight from the bottle. This is embarrassing—very shameful on his part! He thought his blood basically runs on vodka as its gasoline and yet he got too drunk to even control himself from laying down next to you for the night.
“No, I’m…” Nikolai holds your wrist, eyes gazing at your figure fast. He feels his saliva choking his throat when he sees the shape of your breasts—and he finds his breath to be hitched away when he catches a glimpse of your nipples through the fabric of his shirt.
God… Your body sweat is practically seeping into his clothes.
Nikolai swallows hard as he tries to look away. He averts his gaze but somehow the image is still lingering as a fading vision in his eyes. He scrambles to grab the blanket close to his crotch, hiding his stiffening boner.
This is so not a good time at all. But his body is betraying him—as always.
He takes a deep breath. “Did I do anything to you last night? Inappropriate things?”
You shake your head.
“Don’t lie to me. Did I do bad things to you?” His voice hardens.
“You… You, uhm, just laid down and then you started to talk about killing Viktor—”
“I’ll really do that.”
“No, no. Let’s not kill him. He’s your friend.” You reply quickly. “And then you talked about this… Fedya guy. Said he’s the one putting you in prison.”
Nikolai shuts his lips. He brings his hand to his face, regretfully gripping his head. His Pandora’s box has shattered, ironically from his own conflicted mind. He holds his riddles close to himself, they were not meant to be figured out and yet he hands them to you when his sober mind is barely steering himself.
“You said you wanna go to St. Petersburg too…” Your hand slowly trails to hold his, thumb rubbing his fingers, seeping little ounces of comfort. “… to kill him.”
Nikolai’s irises shiver, as if they are also seeking the right path to focus on—everywhere but your body, that is. He returns your grip—the coldness of your hand is not enough to harmonise his tense fire. Fire in his heart, the fire of his loins. He needs to hold more, like last night. Nikolai attempts to speak but all that leaves his mouth is just a mangled string of ‘I’ and ‘uh’. His tongue is pushing back against his heart’s desire to tell you, to spill everything that has happened to him for the past eight years.
He continues to stare at your face—your presence is strangely illuminating, or perhaps that is his tipsy thought. Perhaps his eyes are still seeing things, as you are contrasting this dull and sombre bedroom. It is not your skin or your clothes that mimic a flower in the middle of a graveyard. It is just your tender touch on his skin and sugary whispers of ‘Hey, hey, it’s okay.’ while your gaze is beaming sympathy towards him.
Sympathy—Dear devil, he hates that.
“I…” Nikolai grasps your wrist. He rambles quickly, words uttered without his brain scrutinising them. “I need to talk to you. Viktor won’t understand it. Maybe you would. I don’t even trust it. You don’t look like you would understand me. But… I don’t know, I just… really, really need your… opinion, sort of. Listen. Hear me well. Freedom—No, that’s not right. My life— life— I’ve been trying to— to free— Fuck, shit—” A sharp inhale. “I-I wanna be—”
“Nikolai, Nikolai, calm down.” You are holding his arms now. Nikolai bites his tongue, halting. His eyes roll up in frustration as his hand scratches his hair. He can feel his braid is already loosening and tangled through his fingers. He laments this—he is a mess, physically, mentally and sexually. His face is starting to redden as shame is omitted away, replaced by a sense of humiliation.
God, I’m pathetic.
He is over thirty years old. Anyone who is over thirty is already figuring out their life but not Nikolai, it seems. He groans lowly—utterly pathetic.
“Kolya, how about you take a shower first?” You say, tilting your head as you offer him a smile. “Go refresh your head and clean up. I’ll make breakfast for you. Hot chocolate?”
His lips open slightly before he nods slowly. “Right… You’re right… Hot chocolate is good too… I should… um, take a shower…” He mumbles. Your hand travels to his back, sending tiny shudders onto him, and you pat him lightly. Then, you get up from the bed, tugging on his arm as if you are trying to drag him to the bathroom. The turmoil on his face dissipates as he starts to chuckle.
“Come on, go shower!”
“I’m offended, doll. Am I that smelly?”
“You smell like an alcoholic.” Nikolai snorts a chortle at your response before he gets up, sighing defeatedly. “I’m gonna make breakfast, okay?” You say before you walk out of the bedroom happily. He just watches you until you disappear into the kitchen, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He looks around—the room is indeed dull and sombre. It is as if you also drag away the sparkle that makes this place bearable for him. He purses his lips—disliking this feeling that is bubbling inside.
He shakes his head, making his way to the bathroom after grabbing his towel. He takes off his shirt, tossing it on the floor—he will wash it later anyway. Nikolai stands in front of the somewhat cracked. His nimble fingers fiddle with his braid, untying the strands before he reaches for the hairbrush on the cabinet. He brushes his hair, untangling some of it as his eyes wander around the sink and the mirror mindlessly.
He stares at his reflection.
Misery.
— ♡
You are humming in the bathroom.
After he had dressed up, Nikolai made his way to the kitchen but halted when he passed by the bathroom. You got in while he was in the bedroom after his long shower. He stops and stands in front of the bathroom door upon hearing your faint melody accompanying the rushing water from the shower.
He does not know why he stops. The rest of the house is awfully quiet, except for this small spot in the bathroom, where you are in. There is no radio or television in the house that could bring some sort of noise to uplift the gloom clouding this space. Before he kidnapped you, this place was nothing better than the prison—except, the prison was stricter and noisier. It has been weeks since you are practically living with him and he does not think he could get used to the same silence.
He pouts, scratching his damp hair in frustration. “What am I doing? This is so perverted.” He thinks. He is about to step back and leave but the door is pulled open abruptly from the inside.
“Woah! H-Hey—”
Nikolai wonders if he is subconsciously digging his own grave. Maybe the grave has already been dug and it is just he who refuses to submit to the earth. His eyes blink profusely, irises travel anywhere but your figure that is only covered by a towel. The fresh scent of his body wash is emitting from you dangerously. His tongue sticks out slightly, licking his own lips when he takes a good look at you.
Droplets sprinkling your skin, the small hairs at your nape are dripping with water, naked and soft thighs are close to each other, upper chest is exposed, a tiny drop of water is dripping to your cleavage.
That’s the breast you slept on last night— What the fuck.
He would be very glad to grab the shaver on the cabinet by the sink to shave every layer of his own brain right now. It really does not help at all when he starts to recall the mementos of his sleep. He still laments at the fact that he was drunk and could not control his own mouth to blabber his past to you while clinging to your body.
“Are you policing my path?” You suddenly speak with an adorable pout. “Get out of my way, please. It’s cold, it’s cold.” You say as you playfully bump your fist on his chest as if he is a wall—well, he is, frankly, a tall man.
It’s cold? I think it’s very hot right now.
“I-I gotta use the toilet. Go away.” He attempts to make his voice harsh but it just sounds shaky. He holds your bare shoulders, pulling you out of the bathroom before he steps in and slams the door closed.
“Hey! Rude!” He hears your whine but he just stays frozen behind the door, with his hands rubbing against each other.
The feeling of your cold skin is still lingering. He brings his hands to his face, palming his cheeks.
Nikolai does not need to use the toilet at all. He just needs an outlet to sulk about his own mind. He glances at his reflection, finding the skin on his face is already reddish. He shakes his head—No, no. I am not blushing. This is because of the cold air. The breeze! The prickling cold is making me red! Darn the winter, not the girl!
He forms a fist and hits his head, grumbling. Why is he acting like a teenager who just saw boobs for the first time? Nikolai is much better than this. He has slept around multiple times—he is almost reaching his mid-30s for fuck’s sake. Once he feels his libido is peaking, he would have just gone to any red light district and had his fun there—he can just do that right now if he is this sexually frustrated.
But it does not feel right. He does not want to sleep with any other people. He surely does not want to sleep with you, for a multitude of reasons. You are supposed to be his victim, darn it. You are supposed to cower in fear, begging for your life to be spared. You are supposed to feed into his sadism, not turn him into a mush of flustered flesh. If he were to have a basement, you should’ve rotted in there. But no, you are not. You are roaming around his house freely now, sleeping on his bed, wearing his clothes, using his things, touching him, holding him, hugging him.
What kind of victim does all that? To a horrible man, no less. Are you the one who is being imprisoned or is he?
A few knocks shock Nikolai out of his thoughts. Your voice is calling him out from the outside.
“Kolya? Kolya, are you alright in there? Do you want laxatives?”
“N-No. No, what the hell?” Nikolai replies back, swallowing a chuckle from erupting. “G-Go away. Sit at the table and eat your breakfast.” He says, shooing you.
“Okay, okay. But don't be embarrassed with me if you need anything—”
Nikolai opens the door, jolting you upon seeing him. You grin at him heartily. He snorts scornfully. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” He says.
“Are you implying that you do need laxatives?”
“No! I don’t need shit pills.” He groans, making you spew a short laugh. He shakes his head before walking to the kitchen as you trail him closely.
On the dining table, there is already a stack of pancakes being served. Nikolai nudges the stack with a fork that you have prepared, amazed by how fast you could make them. Or perhaps it was him who took too long in the shower. Nikolai sits at the table, across from you. He watches you take two pancakes and drizzle them with honey. He thinks it is quite a waste of time to put sauces and toppings on the pancake, so he just eats his own portion plain.
“Is it good?” You ask and he nods. You smile before you continue eating. Your head is tilting left and right, a clear image of your joy.
“Why are you so happy?” Nikolai asks grumpily.
“A lot of things.”
“Such as?”
“You.” Nikolai’s eyes glance at you for that answer. Your hand shyly slither on the table, reaching his own. And his fingers wrap around you instinctively.
“What do you mean by that, doll?” He murmurs and you lean forward a bit.
“Well, for instance, you finally sleep on the bed.” You say and those words once again bring crimson to his face. “I know how uncomfortable you are sleeping on the couch. I mean, you did change your place to sleep on the floor. It does not make it better and I feel a little guilty to see you go through nights like that. So…” You exhale, finding the correct words as your thumb is rubbing against his hand. “So, even if you were drunk last night, having you slept on the bed comfortably made me happy.”
“About that.” Nikolai quickly replies. “I-I won’t do that again. Even if I’m drunk, I’ll try not to sleep with you—”
“No, I don’t mind.”
Please don’t do this to me.
You tilt your head, gaze glimmering. “I don’t mind having you on the bed with me. You’re not liking the couch and you're a very… tall and big guy. The bed is the best place for you to sleep on. Besides, it is yours.”
Nikolai sighs, throwing his head back. “No, you’re not understanding. It’s not the bed I worry about. It’s you.”
“Me?” You blink confusedly. “You did not do anything weird to me last night.”
“Yeah, but I…” Nikolai purses his lips. Damn it all—why is it so hard for him to talk about it? His other hand reaches to his lips, caressing his lower face. The one that is holding yours is still refusing to let go. He takes a deep breath.
“Fuck. Listen here, doll. I know you think that I didn’t do weird things but I hugged you and touched you. And you’re okay with that because—” A pause. “Because you like me.” He stares at you. “But I don’t like you back. Not in that way, not in any way.”
“But… you said otherwise last night.”
The whole world can crumble onto him and Nikolai would be thankful for his death. His heart is beating so fast that it will leap out at any second. The realisation comes to doom him even deeper.
“No, that wasn’t me speaking. I wasn’t sober. I wasn’t thinking.” He defends himself quickly. He could not even remember what things he had confessed to you and he only hoped that his mouth did not jabber too much for his own sake. He catches a glimpse of your sorrow across your face. His molars clash with each other, biting his own tongue.
Guilty.
“I don’t mean that,” Nikolai says, gripping your hand tighter. You frown slightly.
“You keep hopping from one opposing sentence to another… Which one is it?”
“I don’t know.” He mutters. “Everything has been a fuckin’ mess since forever.” He sighs before he palms his face, lamenting. As he is staring into the nothingness of his hand, he suddenly feels your hand retracting from his grip. A desperation tingles within his fingertips when each of his fingers is clenching the air, hoping to feel your skin again. He lifts his face, seeing you sipping your drink.
His lips utter a silent word, pleading to you to hold him again. But you could not hear his silent plea, so he swallows his wish—just like how he always does.
Nikolai stares at the table.
Silence.
Silence.
He takes a deep breath.
“Several years ago, I joined a global terrorism organisation.”
You halt, eyes widen.
“I didn’t know the true extent of the plan. I knew all of us in the organisation were manipulated by the founder itself. I knew that reaching the main goal of the whole plan would bring death to a lot of people and nations. It was pure evil and I thought that it was worth supporting.” He purses his lips. “Such evil will separate a man from normality and morality. It will push him to his freedom. That’s what I thought.”
“I killed so many people. I caused so many deaths. And I understand how wrong they were. I am very well aware of the evil I commit, and I feel just as guilty as any sane human would. You are probably wondering why would I kill if I know very well I will feel guilty about it, despite morality telling me how wrong I have lived. Morality, my love, is a mere conditioning. We are bound to it, the moment we are born. It is only a matter of time before the bird realises itself to have lived in a cage. It is up to the creature itself to stay living in it or pry and break free.”
“What are you talking about..?” You mutter.
He grabs your hand, gripping it. His mismatched eyes bore straight at yours.
“Freedom, little dove. I’m talking about free will. The power to make a choice for yourself from yourself, without influences from all over. I am not going to live like a poor secretary who is merely a tool for the system that is utterly meaningless, nothing good to live for. Morals, empathy and feelings are nothing but hindrances.” His grip gets tighter. “Viktor said that I’m gonna end up killing myself but that’s—” He takes a sharp inhale of breath. “That’s exactly what it is. The free will to make a choice to live is also to die. And you know what? I seek the freedom of my soul more than any kind of joy—and death, little dove, is the only option for me to be truly free.”
“You’re harming yourself—”
“I fucking do! Don’t you listen to what I said?” He suddenly says loudly, surprising you.
“I listen, I listen!” You reply with the same tone, higher. “Don’t get angry with me, please.” Nikolai presses his lips together, murmuring an apology. “If happiness isn’t something you want, wouldn’t that be more painful for you? You are already trying to reach something so… high.” You say carefully.
“What’s the difference? My pursuit is true.”
“I know. But you do say that free will is the power to make a choice without any influence… So while you are trying to seek it, why not… Why not be happy as well? Why torture yourself? You can freely make a choice about it, yes?” You say. “Sometimes joy can make people forget about their misery. It’s true for me.”
“I am not indulging myself in such shackling feelings like happiness.”
“But you are miserable, no?”
Your words are quick to shut him down. You offer him a solemn smile. “Have you ever felt happy, Nikolai?”
Nikolai looks at you and then his eyes travel elsewhere. He tries to dig through his memories. Yes, he does feel happy sometimes—when he broke into Meursault with ease, when Olga gave him free food for his birthday, when he received extra payment from Viktor, when his target did exactly what he expected, when he made you carry his heavy laundry basket, when you wear his clothes, when you made him hot drinks as he was about to work late at night, when you were visibly surprised at the amount of debt your father owed, when you squeal cheerfully after he bought you Olga’s chicken pie for dinner, when you—
Yes. He does feel happy about small, unimportant things.
Nikolai frowns, trying to think again. No, there is no way he just convinced himself to feel pleased about such events. He is better than that.
“Maybe… when my, um, friend… understood what I meant when I talked to him about this.” He says.
“Fedya guy?” You quickly figure out the ‘friend’ and Nikolai cringes before he hesitantly nods.
“His name is Fyodor Dostoyevsky. He was… the founder of the organisation I joined. Basically a terrorist like me but worse.” He pauses. “Ironically, he also understands me. He understands what I seek. But… I knew that the short conversation we shared was merely manipulation. What I did during… the last phase of my part of the plan was controlled by something else. It is complicated but I wasn’t exactly… doing things fully of my own free will.” Nikolai sighs loudly. “Recalling back feels pretty dumb to me. I was supposed to die during the plan. But I used my ability to escape death. And now I’m looking at the tragedy from different views. I wasn’t ‘dying’ with the scream of my free will. I ‘died’… being controlled by something else somewhere. It’s pathetic. A little part of my heart knows that I was not free when I supposedly ‘died’ that time.”
“And you want to go to St. Petersburg to kill him…” You mutter. “You said he put you in prison. And now you just said he had manipulated you… Is it revenge that you seek?”
Nikolai suddenly bursts out a laugh. “Revenge? No fucking way.” He pants slightly before sighing. “No, no. It’s not something as cheap as revenge. No. I’ve always wanted to kill him. I think that this… attachment I have on him will be a doom on my part. My feelings are hindering me. It's brainwashing. Killing him will prove myself to be truly free. I just want to set it right. I am setting it right. It’s not revenge I seek. I’m freeing myself—is a better description.”
You shake your head. “Are you sure?”
“Sure of what?”
“Are you sure you’re not seeking revenge?”
“No.”
“Nikolai…”
“Fine! I’m angry, okay?” He huffs. “He literally shoved me into prison and when I left, everything I owned was stripped away and I only have my overcoat. I don’t have a house, a car or even a fake ID card. Can you imagine being free for once from a literal prison and then getting shackled again by this fucking system?” He groans and throws his body back to the chair.
“Now that is a little confusing, no? You said emotions are a hindrance and yet you are driven by anger…” You reply with a strange smile on your face.
“Some little sacrifices have to be done to achieve greater things…”
“Then, why not make an exception for joy as well?” You finally say as you hold his hand, your fingers link between his and his eyes wander towards them.
“Why are you so fixated on making me happy, huh? You don’t even know me.” He grumbles, voice shaky and uncertain.
“I think I know you better now. Maybe I cannot understand you as much as that Fyodor person understands you. But I think your pursuit of freedom is unique. And yet, it’s very… tragic. Perhaps you can call me brainwashed for thinking like this but I feel pity for you. I feel pity that you have to suffer internally like this. I don’t think I like seeing you being miserable either.” You pause before you lift your hand that is holding his. “But Nikolai, if you think that the answer to total free will is death, why not… die with a smile? Must you cry? Were those little unimportant joys you felt no better than agony?”
“You are basically suggesting that I pursue happiness. The thing I don’t wish to dwell in.”
“No. I am suggesting you to be kinder to yourself. You can try to reach freedom with… however method you are trying to do. But you can definitely do it in a less painful way, no? I care for you. I like you.” You say softly. “And… And I understand why certain things are decided by you. You don’t have to… um… return my feelings. All I want is for you to be well, even if your end goal is inevitable.”
Nikolai stays silent and both of you are left with no words exchanged. But the hands are still linked and Nikolai is starting to feel uneasy. He wants to pull away and push you out of his sight, but his body is not cooperating with his thoughts as his fingers are reluctant to let go of you and his mouth prefers to stay quiet than to yell at you to leave him alone.
He despises your response—really, he just said he will seek the freedom of his soul more than happiness. And yet you want him to pick the less painful path—enjoying the little joys. He wants to scream at that kindness, at that positiveness. But he cannot. He will not.
Screaming at you will only push you away. Anger will make you fear and you might retreat yourself into a cocoon. He has done that. He has gotten angry and yelled at you before. And he feels horrible about it.
Horrible, guilty—death is much better than seeing you sleeping in complete darkness on the couch.
His heart and head are rarely on the same page. Conflict has become a norm in his own existence. He knows what you said is right, in some ways. Happiness does decrease his pain but indulging in it will only make him betray his own codes. However, not indulging in merry is only encouraging him to submerge in his gloom. He will escape a feeling to jump into another, and what will be the end of it? How many emotions and empathy does he have to flee and dive in until he reaches liberty?
“Kolya,” Your voice breaks the silence and he looks at you. “Have your heart and head ever pointed in the same direction?”
His eyes immediately pace towards your lips.
“Maybe.”
You beam. “That’s great. Why don’t you follow them then? You know, scientifically, your body will always try to help you.” You wiggle a finger and Nikolai cackles bitterly. The heavy atmosphere is slowly fading away with that sweetness from your voice.
“They’re dangerous thoughts, that’s all…” He replies before he finishes his lukewarm chocolate drink. The poundage of discordance in him is shrinking—perhaps all the things he always wanted to say to someone have already been poured earlier, to you. Your words are much better than Viktor’s, that is for sure. Perhaps he does not really hate your response. He just hates how it adds to his own quizzes.
“You’re pretty good at listening to rambles, aren’t you?” He remarks. You giggle and it automatically tugs a tiny smile on his face.
“That’s probably because a lot of my customers rant to me, especially when they are drunk.” You reply. Nikolai scoffs, crossing his arms.
“Huh, so you’ve been treating me like old men in the bar this whole time?” He says coyly.
You gasp. “You’re not that old.”
“Uh-huh, I’m pretty sure we have about a little more than a decade of differences. It’s honestly amazing how you can keep up with whatever conversations we had earlier. I’m pretty sure you’ve been listening to worse things at the club.” He says.
“Well, I’m mature enough to know what’s right and wrong!”
Nikolai refutes back. “Now that’s exactly what a manipulated and naive young girl would say. You shouldn’t follow and interact with old dudes who are indecent and filthy in nature. Stick to the youngsters and good guys, yeah?”
“Mm-hm! Got it. I’ll stick with you.” You salute at him, jovial.
“That’s really not what I meant…” Nikolai sighs before he props his chin on his hand. “Hey, I just wanna say again, I’m sorry about last night. Whatever I talked with Viktor messed me up.”
You smile. “I told you, it’s fine. I really don’t mind if you want to sleep on the bed. I just want you to feel comfy.” You say before you grin teasingly and get up from your seat. You place your arms on the table as you bend over, leaning towards him. “And you were really comfortable last night. Especially when I play with your hair like this.”
Nikolai’s words are stuck in his throat when he feels your hand tenderly caressing his head. His hair feels soft against your fingers, albeit a little dry as he just blow-dried them earlier. The warmth is slowly coursing up to his face, down to his groin when his nose picks up your scent again. His eyes trail up, catching the sight of your lips just close to him. A small nudge upwards and he can taste them.
His head slowly tilts up. His trembling pucker ever so slightly.
“You know,” Your face turns serious as you pull away from him and walk to stand behind him, hands still on his hair. Nikolai lets out a very shaky exhale. He wants to turn, confused by your sudden move. He tries not to think of what he almost did just now.
“What are you doing, doll?”
“No, I’m really curious about your hair. Like, it seems unnaturally white but your roots… Your roots are not showing any other colour.” You say, amused and awestruck by his hair. “And it’s so soft too… Though it seems that you have some unique cut over here,” You pat his neck. “And then the hair behind it is long. You get what I mean?”
“I guess so, sweetheart.” He says.
“Is your white hair a part of your superpower?” You ask curiously.
“Not at all. They’re natural.”
“Can I ask something a little sensitive?”
“… Keep your curiosity to the hair on my head and not anywhere else, little doll.”
“I don’t mean that!” You protest, hitting his shoulder. “I just wanna ask if they’re a result of stress…! Not— Not… your other hairs…”
Nikolai muffles his laugh but ultimately fails when he cackles, entertained by your panicked voice. He coughs a bit, trying to stop his chortle. “No, I don’t think they’re from stress… I’ve had them since I was a kid.” NIkolai replies as he looks up at your flustered face. “There are weird, unnatural things happening all over the world, doll. My hair is nothing compared to them.”
“Right… Right, that’s… um… good to know.” You say as your hands drop to his shoulders. Nikolai smiles warmly at you, bringing heat to your inside as you look away. “Can I clean the table?” You ask meekly.
“Yeah, go on. I have to do some work anyway—”
“Hey,” You hold each of his arms with your hands. “What about… taking a rest today? You’ve been working on God Eye—”
“Eyes of God.”
“Same thing. Anyway, you’ve been working on it for nights and days. And I don’t think you should stress yourself with those things today. Just for a day, relax yourself.” You say. “Maybe you can do the dishes? Or read some books? Oh, I know! What about a trip to the laundrette?” You ask with a broad smile.
“Laundrette, huh? You’re draining my pocket.” He pouts. “But alright…”
“Great! Give me ten minutes to wash the dishes. You can go gather your dirty clothes, especially last night’s clothes.” You order and Nikolai just nods, watching you gather the dirty plates and mugs and walk to the sink. He just observes you doing the dishes while he is sitting like a statue at the table, leering at your figure and face.
Savour each moment, he is going to lose this anytime soon.
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Day XII Cage.
People don't get free. They merely change the nature of their chains.
-Nix🌙
TRASH SUGAR MAGIC
➛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 12: ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀ
➛ nikolai gogol x fem!reader
➛ fluff, suggestive | words: 8.2k
➛ ao3 | spotify | main menu
Have you ever met a jester in prison?
It was like a horror movie, living together in a cell with this guy who went by Nikolai. As someone who made a living by collecting debts and killing people for various reasons, Nikolai is probably one of the men I would not mess around with.
He’s a weirdo. His smile always hides weird intentions. He talks in riddles, drawing laughter from others but I know that he is just making them the fool instead of himself. What’s scary about him? Well… if a group of bullies accused him of locking them up in the bathroom and exchanging their limbs with each other, you would be careful, no?
Unfortunately, people think the bullies went crazy. Nobody believes that a jester like him would be able to do such a weird horrible thing. Nobody believes that a smiley guy like him would tear up limbs like it’s nothing. I mean, look at him! He may be fit but there are other guys that are way bigger than him.
He cannot do such a thing, not in prison, never in prison.
But I think they spoke the truth.
— ♡
Dream threatens to shut away but you want to have a couple more hours to see it to the end. But the glimpses of sunlight from the window tease your eyes when your eyelids flutter. You squirm, your body tries to get up and begin the day, but the blanket is pulling you in and keeping you still.
You roll and roll until your body bumps against another. Forcing your eyes to pry open, you gaze up through the haze and smile. “Good morning,” You say with the softest voice to the man sitting next to you on the bed. His back is leaned against the headboard, cushioned by his pillow. There is his phone in his hand and he looks serious for a moment there.
Nikolai says nothing. But without the satisfaction of his voice, you do not think your day could begin any better. So you take his arm—he is wearing a short-sleeved shirt today, with his old tattoos slithering his pale skin. You give him a shake.
“Good morning,” You repeat.
Finally, he looks at you. Usually, he would flash you a glare of annoyance but for the past few weeks, glaring has not become his habit. His mismatched eyes instead address you with an indecipherable gaze. Nikolai stares at you for a few seconds before he hums and smiles.
“When you’re drunk, you don’t snore.”
Your eyes widen as you shriek in embarrassment. Hiding half of your face with the blanket, you look at him timidly. Oh, how unsightly it must be! How many nights has he suffered through your snores? And, and, and—oh Lord, didn’t you hug him as close to you last night? Did you snore right by his ears?
Your face is plastered with a thick sheet of embarrassment. “I-I…”
But your apology is cut off when Nikolai lets out a small cackle. “I’m kidding. No, you sleep like a log. The quietest you’ve ever been.” He says. You huff, frowning at his teasing. Nikolai snorts. “Hm, maybe I shouldn’t even say that I was kidding. Let you believe you’re a noisy one in bed.”
“I’m not noisy in bed!” You protest. Nikolai glances at you, his eyebrow jerks up a bit before he turns away.
“Yeah… not sure about that.”
“What do you mean?”
“…Nothing.” He murmurs. He seems distraught for a second and his cheeks are shaded with light pink as his eyes frantically travel between you and the nothingness around the room.
You keep your eyes on him, sensing his nervousness. When your gaze is fixed on his quivering lips, your mind is rushed with last night’s drunken affair. Drunk as you were, the memories are still fresh in the back of your mind the deeper you scour through them.
You remember his tight grip on the back of your head, pulling you close to cut your breath with a deep kiss. You slightly shiver at the ghostly feeling on your back, tummy and hips—where he touched them and fondled them.
His touches were fire, as far as you remember it.
You thought you were accustomed to his touches by now—soft and rough. It was not the first time you slept with him on the same bed—there was that moment when he was drunk out of his mind and sought comfort. Last night was different enough for you to feel flustered every time you reminisced about it—your mind could play the same fragment of memories over and over and you would still be sheepish.
Last night was more.
You are not sure whether to talk about it to him—what is there to talk about anyway? You knew you had poured your heart out for him. Those three sacred words that you muttered to him were and are never a lie or a mere drunken thought.
“Kolya…” Your hand holds his as you brace yourself to look up at him. He turns his head to you, unreadable. “I… About last night—”
“Do you want to go to Olga’s place?”
Nikolai cuts you off immediately. You flinch lightly at his words. You stare at him and although his face remains unchanged, his hand holds yours back, squeezing it.
He doesn’t want to talk about it.
A heavy flood of disappointment and embarrassment rushes in within you. But you understand it—well, try to. Nikolai has stated before that he has no desire to fall in love or even settle down. He wanted to finish something with an old friend—as much as you despise the thought of him being lost and lonely after that, you do not think you can even change his mind.
A soft voice calling for your name startles you out of your thoughts. Your irises roam towards him again. He tilts his head, and gives your hand another squeeze before he asks: “Are we going? You have to return the backdoor key to Olga anyway, right?”
You nod slowly, forming a smile. At least he does not push your hand away.
— ♡
“Quickly!” Nikolai grunts as he is waiting for you at the front door. He hears your pleas for one more minute from the bedroom. Sighing softly, Nikolai checks his phone one more time, reading Viktor’s new messages.
Viktor: Are you coming? Viktor: You bring your girl along? Me: no i’ll drop her off at olga’s Viktor: Whaaaat we ordered food for you two! Viktor: Just bring her along. Zoya’s packed with customers and I’m getting a tattoo from my baby today Me: nope she can’t come Me: something important happened last night Me: and i have to tell you Me: very important Viktor: Oh shit sounds like an emergency Me: yes. so Me: don’t have sex in the studio Viktor: Heyyy
Nikolai shuts off his phone once he sees you jogging towards him. Your body is covered with one of his jackets—as usual, nothing new, he is so used to it—and a scarf around your neck. You stop by the front door to wear your shoes. As if on instinct, you place your hand on his chest to support your balance as you slip your feet into the shoes. His lips curve slightly for a smirk before he completely purses them together when you look up at him.
“Okay, I’m good.”
“Alright. Get your ass out of the way then so I can lock the door.” He says and you only grin as you step outside happily. As you walk past him, Nikolai notices something from the corner of his eyes—a blazing red thing on your hair.
He turns his head, taking a good look at you. Your hair is tied in a ponytail style and a red pompom on it. He lets out a nervous chuckle. “Not enough leeching off my fortune and you’re now stealing my stuff, sweetheart?”
“Hm?” You look at him and grin. “I lost mine and I found yours on the table.” Your hand gently takes his braid and wiggles the end of it in front of his face. His braid is also tied with a similar red pompom hair tie, except the red on it is faded. “We are matching! Oh, your face is as red as this too.” You tease, tickling his cheeks with his own hair.
“You’re playing too much,” Nikolai pouts but makes no attempt to push your hand away. But your comment about his red face brings him some sort of self-consciousness. He turns away to close the door and lock it. In the meantime, his other hand palms his cheek, trying to get rid of the red—which is mainly caused by the cold, perhaps.
No other reasons.
When you two arrive at the diner, there are already some customers inside. In haste, Nikolai quickly pulls the hood of the jacket over your head. You whine at his sudden roughness but you cannot really protest him—he has all the reasons to worry about you being recognized.
He brings you to the bar, where Vasily is stationed today to make drinks. He straightens up once he sees Nikolai and you sitting at the bar instead of at any other table like other customers. You give Vasily a happy, friendly wave before Nikolai grips your wrist and pushes it down.
“Call Olga for me,” Nikolai says, his tone cold.
“Can you make a hot chocolate for me, please?” You ask Vasily. He nods and gives you a small smile but it drops when Nikolai glares sharply at him. He quickly rushes into the kitchen, calling for Olga. Nikolai almost smirks in amusement at how the young man is visibly intimidated by him but his smile could not even form when he feels a hard pinch on his arm.
“O-Ow!” He flinches, looking at you in disbelief.
“Don’t scare him like that.” You huff.
“I don’t scare him. He is scared of me!” Nikolai replies.
You shake your head, crossing your arms. “He is scared of you because you are scaring him. You should be nice to him. He thinks you are scary because you always look angry around him.”
“Well, I happen to like it that way.”
“You like to be scary?” You ask. He just shrugs. He is fairly aware of people who perceive him as intimidating—his reputation in prison was an example. Befriending guards and feigning friendships were easy. The hard part was to control himself from doing the worst to others.
Nikolai is very sure that there was a reason why he ended up in a prison facility that is clearly only for ‘normal’ people with no special abilities. Meursault was easy to break in and out—most people think that by confiscating his white cloak, they also confiscated his abilities. But really, all he needs is just a fabric of space to get the work done.
“Hello, you two. Sorry, we are kinda busy in the kitchen.” Olga’s voice makes both Nikolai and you turn your heads towards her. She walks into the area behind the bar with Vasily trailing her from behind. Vasily wordlessly starts to make a hot chocolate for you. There is a playful and mischievous impulse within him to further torment the boy but Nikolai holds back.
“Here’s your hot chocolate,” Vasily says as he puts a cup of hot chocolate in front of you. You gleefully thank him, which sours Nikolai’s mood some more. What are you thanking for, darn it. It is just hot chocolate. I can make one too. Much better one too—he thinks.
“Ahem,” Nikolai turns to Olga who is giving him a teasing smile. He huffs and looks away. Olga only chuckles before she turns to you. “I suppose you already know that you will move into my place a few weeks from now?”
Nikolai glances at you, watching. You nod at Olga’s words before you sip the hot chocolate. The drink stains your upper lip and your tongue emerges between your lips to lick it. He tries his best to pry his eyes away from your lips—he really does, but at the back of his subconscious mind, everything that happened on his bed last night has burnt and seared deeply in his brain.
He knows it is bad to think about those same pair of lips kissing and smooching his face and the scar on his eye until he falls asleep. But it cannot be helped, really. Since this morning—he woke up earlier than usual and proceeded to tuck you in properly to bed—he has been thinking about whatever happened between you two. He wanted to convince himself that it was really a drunken decision to kiss you but Nikolai knows that even if he was not drunk at the slightest at that time, he still would have kissed you.
He would.
Nikolai barely listens to what you and Olga are talking about. It is probably something to do with your work as a staff here. He does not care about that, really. What he does care about is how you would live in a new place later on, possibly with a new roommate.
Somehow he finds the thought of you waking up in the same house with other people annoying.
“Kolya? Did you hear what I said?” Olga taps the table in front of Nikolai and he blinks confusedly. He shakes his head, not bothering to even lie that he was ever concentrating. He does concentrate though… on someone else.
“I will need some time to prepare her room. When do you think she could start to move in?” Olga asks.
“Why ask me? Ask her.” Nikolai pouts his lips towards you. “When do you want to leave?”
Your eyes divert down to your hot chocolate. Fiddling with your fingers, you mutter hesitantly, “Maybe… on the day you leave to Petersburg?” You say. “I don’t wanna move too early, you know?”
Nikolai glances at Olga and he finds her returning the same glance. He knows that there is a similar thought in their mind right now. You do not mind moving into Olga’s place early, surely, if your kidnapper is not him.
“When will you leave, Kolya?” Olga asks slowly.
He shrugs. “In two weeks or so… I gotta prepare a bit more things with Viktor about my apartment and car. Speaking of which, I do have to leave because I have to see him at Nastasya’s studio later.” Nikolai says. Your head jerks at him, frowning at the way he is already standing and adjusting his jacket. The gaze you are giving him is a clear protest that you do not want him to leave you—but ultimately, you say nothing.
“Don’t make that face, birdie. I’ll be back at five. And you will work here and assist this graceful old lady.” Nikolai says and Olga’s sweet smile turns into a scowl. She smacks the back of Nikolai’s head mildly, which thankfully makes you chuckle.
“Okay, I’ll wait for you.” You say to him. He smiles.
“Good,” Nikolai then leans down, bringing his lips close to your ear as he whispers, “And don’t trust or talk closely with any customers or strangers. You can trust Olga but not the others, do you understand?”
There is a clear confusion on your face at his sudden warning but a good girl you are, you nod at his words. Nikolai is about to pull away from you but from the corner of his eyes, he notices that Vasily is looking at him suspiciously. Hating the idea that there is still a possibility—no matter how small—that Vasily could get a little too close to you, Nikolai makes a quick decision, not a second thought.
He kisses your cheek.
“Okay, buh-bye, ladies.” He turns on his heels, practically stomping towards the exit door. On his way to leave the restaurant, he hears your little squeals of happiness and attempts to even form a word to Olga.
Nikolai smiles to himself, proud.
— ♡
Whenever you are by yourself, a small giggle cannot stop leaving your mouth.
It feels so unreal. The lingering feeling on your cheek is so unreal.
If you are not working right now, you would have twirled and spun under the falling snow, skipping and dancing like a princess in those movies who live happily ever after. Your cheeks are warm and your heart is still fidgeting in delight.
You are stationed at the bar, assisting Vasily with taking orders and learning to make drinks. It comes very easy for you since this is not entirely a new experience for you to work in such a setting. Olga even gives you a sheet of recipes for coffee and tea drinks, which is very much helpful.
Vasily is gone to the back for a while now which leaves you alone at the bar. You do not mind since there are not many customers. But five minutes later, Vasily walks out from the staff room, completely changed into casual clothes while carrying a laptop bag.
“Oh, are you leaving?” You ask. He nods and gets behind the bar to fill up his water bottle.
“I have classes from five to nine.” He says. You coo, nodding in amusement.
“What kind of classes do you have that you gotta go to college at night?”
“Electives… It’s very annoying.” Vasily huffs. “The coursework is always too redundant for a subject that is, frankly, quite unnecessary. The class is only for two hours but I will have to join a group discussion for another two.” He groans as he throws his head back. “Haven’t gotten a good sleep these days…”
You chuckle. Somehow you feel a little grateful that your day is not as busy as his. All you do during the day is bother Nikolai until he shuts you up by giving you food, but even then, you still talk to him about random things. Lately, you are trying to ramble to him about a short story called ‘The Fair at Sorochyntsi’ that you read from the old books he found around the house.
Reading short stories would be more fun than reading academic books, you think. Even so, you are not opposed to experiencing the struggle.
“I wish you luck then. And don’t forget to eat dinner and take care of your health, alright? You must stay healthy if you want to study smoothly.” You grin. Vasily looks at you for a moment before he snickers and nods.
“Yeah, thanks. You too.”
He leaves the bar and with a farewell wave, he leaves the restaurant. From inside, you see him approaching his friend who is already waiting outside. You pry your eyes away and take a seat behind the bar as you wait for any new customer.
You are overcome with boredom as you do crosswords in the newspaper to kill your time, until you hear the bell on the entrance door ring, signalling someone is walking in. You hope it is Nikolai but it is just a quarter past three o’clock. When you look up from the newspaper, it is a tall man who looks to be in his 40s, approaching the bar instead of choosing any table to sit at. The way he is walking is a little weird—it looks like he hurts one of his legs or something.
Reaching the memo pad to take orders, you stand up and greet him. He returns your smile before sitting directly in front of you at the bar. “How can I help you, sir?” You ask.
For a second, you notice how his eyes leer up and down upon you. Something about this man does not sit right with you. Nervously, your hand pulls the hood to cover your face a little bit more. You attempt to keep smiling and stay calm—you are probably more anxious doing things alone since Vasily is not around anymore and Olga stays in the kitchen with her other staff members.
“What do you recommend to me, sweet pea? I don’t know much about this restaurant. It’s my first time here.” He says. Your eyes twitch upon hearing the nickname roll out his tongue like that. It feels repulsive—despite you being used to being called sweet nicknames like that by the men you escorted before.
“Uhm, we have a tea-time promotion from three to six.” You say, trying to be as friendly and helpful as possible. You take a menu and give it to him, showing him the tea-time promotion. But the man’s gaze is not even on the menu, instead, it is fixated deeply on your face.
“Maybe coffee,” He says.
“What kind of coffee would you like, sir? We have the classics.” You tap a section on the menu with your pen. “We have espresso, cappuccino, latte…”
“I’d like your favourite, then.” He grins. You force out a small cackle—just to remain friendly with him despite the uneasiness swirling deeply in your chest.
“Uhm, mocha… would be nice, sir.” You mutter. He nods.
“Alright. Two hot mocha please,” He says and you scribble the name on the memo pad. Before you could ask him for anything else, he grins once again. “One for you, one for me. My treat, miss.”
“Oh…”
Your hand stops. “I don’t… uhm… It’s not my break time yet, so…” You try to come up with an excuse. It is clear that this man is trying his way to you by offering you a drink, but you are still holding on to what Nikolai just said—do not trust anybody except for Olga.
Besides, you are very not interested in meddling with other people right now. Your heart belongs to someone else and that someone has ignited a fire within you with a soft, faint kiss on the cheek. You do not want to entertain this man any further, so you quickly say, “One hot mocha coming right up, sir.”
You do not even bother asking him whether he wants any pastry or cake to go along with it.
“Aww, come on, sweet pea. You aren’t really a friendly one, are ya?” He says again, this time, his tone is very flirty. He even makes whistling noises at you whenever you step a little closer to his spot to reach the equipment to make his mocha.
“You’re real cute, sweet pea.” He rests his chin on his palm. He then sneers as his eyes roam all over your body. “Nice bod, too. No wonder people come here for you.” He winks before cackling at you.
You only glance at him and say nothing as you put his hot mocha in front of him. You once again force a tiny smile. “Hot mocha, sir.” The man nods and stirs the drink.
“Say, little girl. You don’t look like you’re from here.” He says, leaning closer despite the counter bar being the only separator between you two. You try to not give him much attention to him and just smile at him—enough to not anger a man who lacks attention. “You don’t live alone, by chance?”
“I live with my man.” You mutter.
“Oh yeah? You really have a man?” He says. His tone is mocking, as if he does not believe you. You frown.
“Yes. Yes, my man.” You affirm to him. It is not entirely a lie. You do live with a man but is he your man? Though your confession might be one-sided, you want to believe so—a little fantasy could help with your sanity after all the madness you have gone through in your life.
The man only snickers at your response before he takes a sip of his drink. With his attention briefly moving away from you, you finally let out a sigh of relief. You do not think you want to linger behind the bar like this with this man near you.
You must find something else to do. It is really unfortunate that it is not peak hour, so there are not many customers. When his gaze is away from you, you quickly slip out from the bar and make your way to reach the broom from the cleaning closet. You do not know what you are cleaning, but you do anyway. Anything to get away.
But his gaze never leaves you—marking dirt upon your figure.
— ♡
“Hello.” Nikolai steps into VIY Studio. He sees Zoya who is currently consulting a client in the lounge. She turns to him and nudges her chin to Nastasya’s office, already knowing the reason for his presence. Nikolai makes his way there and knocks on the door.
“Oi, it’s me.” He says. He does not want to barge in like before. Big big mistake.
“Come in!” He hears Nastasya’s faint voice from the inside. He opens the door and finds Viktor lying on his stomach, with his bare torso out in the open. Nastasya is dressed in black pants and a strapless black top. She is focused on tattooing Viktor’s back shoulder—it seems like a nose or something.
“What’s this? What kind of movies are you inspired by now?” Nikolai asks as he takes off his coat and places it on the chair near Nastasya’s working desk. He sits down and reaches for the food that the couple ordered beforehand for him and you.
“I saw an old play about noses. Pretty good shit and I want it tattooed on me as a memoir. Do you get me?” Viktor grins. Nikolai’s eyebrow jerks up in slight bafflement.
“You tattooed a nose on your skin because you saw an old play? Wow. I’m glad I’m not that crazy.”
“It’s not just a nose! It’s the nose! The nose!”
Nikolai looks at Nastasya and as he munches on the chicken pelmeni, he says, “Are you sure you still want to be with this guy?”
Nastasya only scoffs. “I think it’s cute.”
“See!” Viktor cheers. “You don’t know shit about love, bro. Maybe try practising it with your baby blue babydoll, eh?” He teases. But Nikolai stops eating when he hears the mention of you. His face goes slightly red again when he remembers that he kissed your cheek unprompted before leaving earlier.
Now how can he save his face when he returns to the diner? God, that was embarrassing.
“Hey, I want to ask… She is not from this town, right?” Nikolai asks. Viktor nods. “And the loansharks… I don’t think they’re from here but they must have a base to operate if they want to catch her dad. Where are they? Where is it?”
“Moscow, but I don’t know which exact part of Moscow they’re based at,” Viktor replies. “Why?”
“Just curious.” Nikolai bites the inside of his cheek. His mind remembers a weird event last night where he sees a car from Moscow, seemingly suspicious. He does not want to think too hard about it but he does not want to take any risk.
He will make his own investigation later. After all, he still has that knock-off Eyes of God.
“So, what have you decided to do with her? You have like two weeks left here, right?” Viktor asks before he turns his head to look at Nikolai. He groans slightly, probably already feeling strained by the position and the dabbing needle on his back.
“Yeah, I talked to Olga about it. She’ll take her in…”
“Ooh, good choice, good choice. Well, she’s safer with Olga for sure. No criminal groups are going to let that diner burn. It’s like a beloved nest for all drug dealers!” Viktor laughs but stops immediately when Nastasya slaps his ass as a warning to stop laughing so his back would not move so much.
“I said I have something important to tell you, right?” Nikolai says. Viktor only hums. Nastasya is not even listening, most likely. She never really is the one who inserts herself in their business, unless it involves something that could endanger Viktor—which, frankly, a lot of times.
“Well, this is about her.”
“Yeah? What’s up?”
“We made out.”
Silence.
Complete silence, except for the buzzing noise of the needle in Nastasya’s hand. Even then, the holder herself is wide-eyed, mouth agape, visibly surprised. And her boyfriend is no better. They physically freeze in their spot for a solid minute.
With their wide-eyed gaze upon him, Nikolai feels extremely abashed, as if he has been put under the spotlight without his consent. As if he is forced to perform a play he never rehearsed. Even if he wants to stop the conversation right there and then—because he thinks they deserve just a speck of last night’s rendezvous—the way both of them look at him makes him want to confess all his sins.
“We, uh… got drunk… and… she said I can sleep with her on the bed because… you know… and then… and… she kinda touched me— not like touched me there or anything— I think I touched her more than I should but uh… I… we kiss— well, I… I kissed her…”
Hot, scorching, blazing fire is burning his insides. Nikolai wants to bury his face in the soil and let the earth dim his heat away. Although he cannot see his face, he feels the tingles on his cheeks prick so damn hard when Viktor suddenly howls in excitement.
“Woah! Woah! Woo! Woo! What? You fucking joking! Waow! Is this real?!”
“Was she okay about it?” Nastasya asks carefully and Nikolai wants to just smack her because of that stupid question. What does she think? You are smitten with him (and he refuses to admit that he is the same when it comes to you). Of course you were fine about it. You literally hugged him, kissed him to sleep and kept him so close to your body like a teddy bear!
Viktor is already sitting up, ignoring the pain in his muscles. He is enthusiastic, too happy for something so ‘small’ that happened to his friend. The way Viktor is cheering is as if Nikolai did not have occasional casual sex all his life.
“Hey, wait! If you two have kissed… did you…” Viktor grins perversely as he makes a circle on one hand and his other hand makes a pointing finger gesture. With that stupid smile, he inserts his pointing index finger into the circle, which could only mean one thing. He even wiggles his finger as if to make his point any clearer.
“No! I did not do that.” Nikolai lowers his voice. “We did not fuck, are you crazy? We were drunk! A-And… it’s too fast and it’s inappropriate and… she’s probably gonna be afraid and… you know…”
“Oh yeah, surely, dude. Suuuurely…” Viktor giggles and it turns to a loud laughter that he throws his head back. He is enjoying this a little too much and Nikolai could only lament his decision to even tell this couple. Nastasya is only watching, amused and entertained. Her laughing boyfriend tries to control himself as he teases again, “So, did you take a cold shower or something? You woke up with a boner this morning?”
Nikolai lowers his face in shame.
“Worse.”
— ♡
The sky outside is cloudy but the snow is not as heavy as usual. The weather has been quite unpredictable these days. Nikolai has five more minutes until he arrives at Olga’s diner. He just finished an errand given by Viktor for some extra cash—he has to deliver some ‘mysterious package’ to a smuggling group and he got it done earlier than expected.
When he finally arrives, he parks his car near the diner and sits back to check his phone. His eyebrow cocks in confusion when he sees a new message from Viktor—a link is attached to it.
Viktor: A Guide On How To Please A Woman Viktor: Hope this helps, bro. From one bro to another Me: pls fucking die
Nikolai could only imagine the laugh Viktor is doing right now. But he does not really blame the guy. If the situation flips and it goes like Viktor is the one acting like this towards Nastasya, Nikolai would tease him the same—well… if that ever happens before his imprisonment, that is.
He finally turns off the engine of his car and leaves the vehicle. He fixes the coat on his body and looks around as he walks towards the diner. But his steps are halted when he sees a certain car parked just several metres away from his own. Nikolai diverts his direction, approaching the car instead.
Seven-seven-seven. Moscow.
The car is similar to what he saw last night in front of the convenience store. He remembers the plate number and the region code. His eyes narrow as he circles the car, trying to find anything that could answer his curiosity and suspicion.
“This shit looks new and modern. Probably has an alarm if I touch the wrong button.” He mumbles to himself. Both of his hands are in his pockets, wagering his chances to even meddle with the car from the inside. Deciding that it is not worth his time—plus, the owner of the car might be inside the diner with you—Nikolai turns around and walks towards the diner.
From the window, he sees only two tables are occupied by customers. A man is sitting at the bar and he notices you standing awkwardly by a table with a broom in your hand. Nikolai observes the others again—one group of customers is a couple of old people enjoying tea and reading newspapers and another group of customers is some teenagers enjoying their late lunches.
The man, however—
Nikolai knows him. That figure he has known so well. There is no way he can forget a person he spent almost six years with while in prison, especially not when he has to live together with them day and night.
“Bastard…” He mutters before he finally walks into the diner. The bell rings and Nikolai notices your eyes brighten up like the morning sun when you see him. You are about to take a step towards him but Nikolai immediately holds up his hand towards you without even looking at you.
Instead, he approaches the man at the bar. Once he is close, he wraps his arm around the latter’s shoulders.
“Elvir, my friend! How long has it been!”
Elvir flinches hard, hearing Nikolai’s cheerful, friendly voice. His head jerks to his side, seeing the familiar grin on Nikolai’s face. Nikolai immediately takes a seat beside him, his arm still extended over the older guy’s shoulder, patting his back at a steady pace.
“How’ve you been, friend?” Nikolai asks, with the last word hardened at the edge of his tongue. “How’s Borys, if you still keep in contact with him. Oh, oh! How’s your leg, hmm? Still clanking nice? Still clanking good?” With his foot, Nikolai nudges the metal that replaced half of Elvir’s left leg.
Elvir immediately pulls back his left leg, avoiding Nikolai’s playful kicks. An intense fear is clear in his eyes, with the way his irises shake. “Nikolai… What are you doing here…?” He asks and his voice is yet another proof of his dread.
“What am I doing here? Well, I live here, silly goose!” Nikolai grins. “What are you doing here? All the way from Moscow? Huh? Yeah? Moscow, right? I mean, I saw a strange car outside and then I saw you—I really don’t imply that you are strange, no, no, not at all!—and I make the connection and badump! You’re all the way from Moscow.”
“I… I am.”
Nikolai smiles, nodding. “Mm-hm, mm-hm. So, why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you come here, dummy? Oh, and let’s not lie to each other, Elvir. I know how tricks and lies work, alright?” He says, tapping the table in front of Elvir, demanding answers. “Come on, spill out, old guy. This is the time for old friends to catch up with one another.”
“It’s… It’s just that I have a job here.” Elvir says hesitantly. “No other reasons.”
Nikolai smirks. “Let me guess. Is it to retrieve the daughter of your debtor?”
Elvir’s eyes widen. His irises frantically move between the man in front of him and the girl who has been sweeping the floor for over an hour. He tries to speak but all that leaves his mouth are filler words of nervousness and uncertainty.
He then gasps before lowering his voice to a whisper. “Wait… Are you perhaps… the informant Vivian?”
Vivian—Nikolai knows that name. It is a pseudonym for Viktor to ensure the privacy of his real name. He only ever uses that name for criminal stuff ever since both of them worked at the shady circus. Viktor wanted to have an alter-ego, so to speak, as his ‘illegal identity’ and wanted the name to begin with ‘V’. He ended up with ‘Vivian’ after multiple horrible suggestions from Nikolai—prime exhibit: ‘What about Viagra? Vibrator? Virgin? Viscerocranium?’ ‘Shut your hole, Gogol.’
“I’m not Vivian. But I am acquainted with him.” Nikolai says. “He’s my manager, basically. Well, partner-in-crime, more accurately. F-friend, sorta.”
“Vivian has been in contact with one of my men about… our debtor. We asked him to get his daughter as our hostage quite a while ago…” Elvir whispers, which only annoys Nikolai because there are no goddamn people near them. The teenagers are busy with themselves and old people can barely hear anyway. Boldly, Nikolai pushes Elvir’s shoulder away, putting distance between them.
“I’m aware. After all, I was the one who got the girl.” Nikolai says before tilting his head in your direction. You are not facing him, instead you are now changing your sweeping job to wiping the windows. “She’s the girl you wanted, right?”
Elvir glances at you for a second before he licks his lips, contemplating and choosing his words carefully. He nods slowly. “Yeah. She is. I-I thought she would be… locked and tied up… And she’s not even…” He pauses, staring at you. You are incredibly close to the main door to the diner. At any time you can run out and scream for help. Hells, you can even plead your case to the group of teenagers and yet—
“She doesn’t even run away…”
Nikolai smiles to himself—Locked her up, tied her up, knocked her out, I did all that and she ran back to me.
Elvir scoffs, suddenly. “I see. She doesn’t run away because you trained her or something? Make the girl obedient and listen to you?”
Quite the opposite, actually.
“You can think of it that way,” Nikolai shrugs his shoulders before he grabs Elvir’s jaw, turning the older man’s gaze away from you. Then his hand moves to stay on Elvir’s back, almost like a warning gesture. “But that’s not important right now, yeah? You came here to retrieve her.” Nikolai says.
“Well, y-yeah.”
“Her daddy already died, though.”
“He had millions in debt, Nikolai.” Elvir grunts. “If he cannot pay anymore, his daughter can.”
“That’s not her responsibility,” Nikolai replies, his glare turning sharp. Elvir is about to retort but Nikolai quickly cuts him off. “I know what the likes of you do to young women like her. Even her former job did not pay her well. You expect her to be able to pay off millions and possibly more because of your fuckass interest rates in just a couple of years?”
He suddenly cackles dryly. “You’re full of shit, you know that? You’re gonna enslave the fuck out of the girl.”
Elvir frowns hard and his fist clenches. His anger seems to be accumulating, probably because of the condescending and mocking tone that Nikolai has been using to speak to him—he feels disrespected, and the jester is more than happy to taunt and ridicule him.
“Your business ended ages ago, Gogol. You’re just paid to kidnap the girl. Nothing more. Your job is done done. The girl belongs to us and she has more shit to do than cleaning this damned restaurant.”
Nikolai’s lips form a soft, tiny twinkle. “Mm-hm. I know.”
“Then what the fuck is the matter?”
“This is the matter.”
Click!
Elvir freezes. His breath is stuck without a second once he hears a familiar cocking sound of a gun. And he is right on the money when his eyes lower to his stomach, where a gun is pointed. His eyes then slowly shift up, meeting Nikolai’s sweet smile and menacing stare.
“Now, here’s a quiz.”
He smiles broadly. “What other limbs can I tear apart from you aside from your left leg?”
Elvir says nothing and he shudders when Nikolai guides the gun to his right leg. “The answer is its lovely pair.”
“E-Easy with the threats—”
Nikolai cuts him off again. “You see… I believe that when we have the free will to choose our options, we also choose our consequences. I mean, you made the choice to report me to the disciplinary act in jail, so your consequence is that you lost your leg, oops! So I’ll give you options, choices and free will, so to speak.”
He leans closer and the tone of his voice lowers deeply as he says, “One, you come near the girl, this place or this town, I’ll sever more than just your right leg. Bonus if I’m diligent, maybe your men can get a part of your limbs, who knows? The skin, after all, is the biggest organ. You would have enough to be a souvenir to many.”
The fear on Elvir’s face is prominent. He swallows his saliva nervously and even carefully as if one wrong move can lead him to death. And he is not entirely wrong considering that an unsecured gun is still pointed against his stomach, with Nikolai’s finger already on the trigger. A simple press and he could have lost his guts—and he does not think Nikolai’s threat is merely trivial.
No, he does not take this man lightly. What he witnessed in prison is enough.
Nikolai suddenly laughs keenly, as if he finds this situation fun. Perhaps it is fun for him. “Ah! Don’t make that face. It’s comedic, really! I almost forgot what your second option is!” He sighs, shaking his head.
“Don’t screw with me—”
“Second, you turn around, face straight ahead and fuck off back to Moscow.” Nikolai retracts his gun, tilting his head with an adorable smile. “And you shall live happily ever after like a prince in fairy tales.”
Elvir stands up.
Without words and at a fast speed, he turns around to leave. He hastily walks off but his steps stop when Nikolai loudly says, “Hey now, my good friend! Why are you in a rush? Just walk, man! Your legs are totally fine and healthy, aren’t they?”
The diner is silent, except for a steady series of footsteps echoing through the whole room and that series ends finally when the bell on the door rings, signalling that someone has left.
“Nikolai…?”
Nikolai turns his head, finally seeing his blue angel after minutes of talking with an old creepy man. The sight of you is a real eye-cleanser and his heart flutters when he sees the confusion on your face that is only adding to your grace.
“Are you angry with me?”
Now he is the confused one. “What? Where do you get that from?”
“Oh, nothing. It’s ‘cause you were like… don’t want me to talk to you or something earlier…” You say before you move to behind the bar again. You stand right in front of where Nikolai is seated.
“No, I don’t mean it that way, love.” He says softly. “I stopped you because I didn’t want you to come to me when I was talking with that guy. Glad you actually didn’t approach me with a menu.”
“Do you know him?” You ask. “He had been sitting here for about two hours or so. He was being creepy and I was… scared.”
Nikolai hums, resting his chin on his palm as he stares at your timid face. As if you notice his eyes are on you, you look up at him, giving him a smile which he gladly returns. “What did he talk to you about?”
“Mm… He was flirting. He tried to buy me a drink as well and he asked me if I live alone.”
“Uh-huh… And then what did you say?”
“I said I don’t live alone.”
Nikolai nods and sighs. “Good girl. That’s smart of you for saying that. It could be worse.” A sheepish smile crooks on your face before you give him a menu.
“Anything to drink? I can do most of the drinks now! Vasily taught me.” You giggle. Nikolai is about to whine and protest at the mention of the name but hearing your giggle only makes him snicker to himself. He does not really want to drink anything but he proceeds to ask you to make him a hot latte anyway. You nod and take the cup that Elvir used hours ago and then stop.
“Oh. Your friend did not pay…”
“He’s not my friend.”
“Who is he then?”
Nikolai rubs his lips, pondering. “He was my cellmate, back in prison. His name is Elvir.” He says. He wonders if he should tell you about Elvir’s involvement with your father—he does not want you to get scared to live by yourself. But he also does not want you to carelessly interact with people, although knowing that Olga’s place has an ‘extra protection’ from criminals who often make deals here.
He watches you walk around, making a latte in precision. You do not seem to be clueless about any of these—which makes him wonder whether you have worked in a cafe as a barista before. He knows you have been taking small jobs ever since you were young to support yourself. Nikolai scoffs to himself a bit. He realises that you are more than capable of being independent but for many reasons, you surely love being pampered so much—by the man who kidnapped you, no less.
“Here’s your coffee,” You say as you put a cup of hot latte in front of him. “Please give me fifty-percent tips.” You beam playfully.
“Ha, you don’t demand tips, little dove. No tips, no tips, you already leeched off a lot from me.” He says before he puts down a couple crumpled cash notes on the table and the amount is certainly more than the price of the latte. “Here you go, love.” You take it and count it.
“Do you want to donate to charity?” You attempt again. Nikolai is baffled but still very much entertained.
“What fucking charity?”
“Orphans.”
He rolls his eyes, cackling under his breath as he waves his hand dismissively. Your little noise of victory is a melody to his ears as you register the exact amount of cash equal to the latte’s price and stuff the balance into your pocket.
“Ah, but what about Elvir’s mocha?” You ask. “He asked for two too.”
“I ain’t paying for that,” Nikolai says before he sips his coffee. His eyes glance around the area, not finding Olga anywhere. She is in the kitchen, likely, because he hears faint gossip noises from there—old ladies’ activities, what is new?
“Just hush hush about it.” You nod at his not-so-helpful suggestions and quickly go to wash the used cups at the sink. Nikolai just sits there, watching you intently. He is still thinking about whether to talk more about Elvir. He does not want to lie to you—he promised that many nights ago. Elvir is not from here and surely he has not a single clue on how things work with the underground world that exists in the shadow of this town.
He calls for your name. You are surprised at his call for a moment but you make your way to his spot anyway.
“Elvir works for loan sharks.” He states. “I don’t have any promise that he would not come back and it would be extremely dumb on his part to do that… but if you ever see him even when he does nothing more than just smile at you, you have to tell me.”
“Loan sharks…?” You mutter. “Is he…”
“Yes.” Nikolai firmly says. “Yes, he is exactly what you think. So if you ever see him, tell me. Do not tell anyone else other than me or Viktor. You can ask for a phone from Olga but still, it’s either me or Viktor. Is that clear?”
You say nothing, eyes lowered down. You bite your lips as you try to form a question amidst your agitation. “W-What is he planning to do with me? I mean, he surely will come back, right?”
“If he wants to be decapitated apart, yes,” Nikolai mumbles. He glances at you before sighing softly and offers his hand to you. You wordlessly put your hand on his, gripping it tightly, which he returns with little rubs of his thumb on your skin.
“Don’t be scared, little dove. You are going to be fine. People here love you lots, you know?”
“Do you?”
Nikolai stays silent.
“Do you… love me?“
You know I can’t answer that.
Nikolai says nothing. Even with your pleading gaze upon him, he says nothing. Instead, he brings your hand to his lips.
And kiss it.
©cherikolya 2025 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated
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clementine
synopsis: this time of the year isn't the easiest for you, but nikolai is here to take care of everything when you lose sight of the sweetness in life...
content: fem!reader, comfort, fluff
Nikolai knows you haven't been sleeping well.
So when he saw you bundled up on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket akin to a caterpillar in its cocoon, he couldn't control himself or help the way his heart rate picked up.
He's already kneeling to your level while you’re still sleeping on the sofa to push back some of the hair falling over your face with one hand, the other swimming through the sea of softness to search and take hold of your hand in his. He didn’t mind you were taking a nap in the afternoon—getting to see your peaceful face and knowing that you’re finally able to get some rest after days of difficulty was enough for him to stay content.
He’s patient, not rushing you to wake up like how he would do sometimes in the mornings. You’re not feeling well, so he keeps all his antics stored and locked away for a time not so dull. He tries his hardest to control the urge to coddle you because he knows you need your space, but his heart aches for you anyway, and it is almost unbearable.
You just look so adorable.
He does have to admit, that he feels a bit bad thinking these kinds of thoughts while you're like this, but he can't help it.
A huff of air leaves you when you feel someone plop down next to you, their weight making you sink into the couch further, their hands trailing down your arms, finding their abode on your waist. You'd regained consciousness a few minutes ago, and heard him while he was walking around the living room, but couldn't bring yourself to open your eyelids yet when they still felt so heavy.
But he seems to catch on anyway when he curls up closer to you, his fluffy hair tickling you and his thumb running across the soft skin of your cheek when he becomes aware that you're awake.
This small couch was barely big enough to fit the both of you. He thinks he'll go furniture shopping with you soon, only if you feel like going out, of course.
He notices how you struggle. The way your energy levels dip, and the way your usual sparkle fades as the days grow shorter and darker.
That's why he'll gently suggest going for a walk in the crisp autumn air at times, hoping that exposure to natural light can help alleviate some worries off your mind and lift your mood. He'll offer to wrap you up in layers of warmth and accompany you on a stroll through the colorful foliage, providing his unwavering company as a source of solace and strength. And he'll wipe your tears away when you cry to him, telling him that you can't bring yourself to. He'll reassure you and tell you that everything is okay, pulling you into his comforting embrace, determined to hold your hand and walk by your side through the darkness while holding onto the belief that you can weather this storm.
Nikolai thinks you're too hard on yourself.
He thinks you don't treat yourself as nicely as he does to you and it makes him deeply upset—breaks his heart, so to speak. But he knows how difficult it can be. So, he feels the least he could do was be here for you when you're at your lowest, just like you always are when he's at his.
“Nikolai,” you call out to him, keeping your eyes still shut, aware of his presence close to you.
"Dove," he responds, his eyes glistening when he hears your voice. "How about we go out today? You need some sunshine," he suggests to you in a gentle voice accompanied by a signature dorky smile spread on his face.
Your eyelashes flutter as you open your eyes to find him leaning over you, one look at his face being enough to dispel some fatigue, always bringing you back down to earth when you’re floating.
"But you're right here," you say, your hands finding themselves in his hair to play with the braid that falls over his shoulder.
Nikolai is and has always been caring towards you, and moments like these serve as a reminder of who you're truly in a relationship with. His tough exterior was something you’ve always been aware of but never been afraid of. Not after he's shown you that beneath that exterior was hiding something soft, buried underneath layers and layers of faux fortitude.
Nikolai himself wasn't able to conceal his bashfulness. No matter how resilient he pretended to be and tried to appear, you always managed to shatter him with the right words laced with such potent fervor that never failed to permeate his mind.
He pulls away from you momentarily and rises to his feet to slowly draw back the curtains, making sure to do so with deliberate care in his actions so the light doesn't hurt your eyes. As he steps back, he nearly loses his footing as he slips on something but manages to steady himself in time before sparing a glance at the ground to see what the culprit is. The playing cards are still scattered across the floor, remnants from the impromptu dramatic performance he put on in the living room yesterday, all in an attempt to see your precious smile that he hasn't gotten the opportunity to catch a glimpse of as of late. A part of him wishes he had tumbled, for the chance he would get to hear your laughter again.
When he returns to you, he helps you sit up and drapes the blanket around you and over your shoulders. Although the sunlight streaming through the window gives you an ethereal glow, he finds the paleness of your skin as a result of insufficient sunlight and nutrients hard to ignore.
Nikolai knows you haven't been taking care of yourself as much as you should be.
He waits for you to notice it—the fresh bowl of fruit he prepared and placed on the table just for you. The clementines he'd bought from his grocery run this morning because they were finally in season and he knew you'd been wanting to have some.
But when you don't move, he picks up a slice of the citrus himself and holds it up to your lips. With tired eyes looking up at him, you part your lips, letting him feed you the fruit. The sweet juice bursts on your tongue, and you press a kiss on the pad of his thumb, relishing in the way it lingers for a moment before he pulls it away. For some odd reason, you feel like it tastes sweeter when he feeds it to you.
As if you weren't already feeling warm from his affection, he sets your cheeks ablaze with a flustered heat when he cradles your face with both of his hands while you chew the fruit. He waits for you to finish before playfully squeezing your cheeks in his hands to make your lips pouty, placing the most gentle of kisses upon them, only then releasing when he feels warmth slowly crawl up from your ears to your face.
Your eyes close to savor his adoration, absent of the knowledge of unimaginable tenderness swimming in the pair of eyes staring at you right now. Your fingers loosely wrap around the wrists connected to hands that are caressing your face so softly, careful touches on your skin followed by lips ghosting over the crown of your head before coming to a stop.
Oh—right. He wasn't supposed to be doing this, not now. He shouldn't be bothering you in this way, not until you feel better, at least.
Taking this into consideration, Nikolai reluctantly lets go of you and moves intending to rest against the pillow next to your lap—where he originally would've placed his head. However, on second thought, he decides not to after a thought pervades his mind of how you might not want his weight on you when you're already carrying so much burden.
It wasn't until he felt fingers trailing up his own, seeking his touch again, that the thought quickly diminished and made him halt his movements. Raising his head to see you looking down at him with that gleam in your eyes that he missed oh so much confirmed it for him, that look that always revealed the want to have him closer to you.
So he fulfills that wish for you, moving over to your lap and shifting to a position with heedfulness where the both of you could feel comfortable, but mainly just for you.
Nikolai never wants to be a nuisance. He just wants to make you feel better, no matter how long that takes.
Because in the end, he always knew that sweetness would follow up the bitterness.
Your presence in his own life was living proof of that.
Final Fantasy VII fic recommendations
(Reader inserts) Recommendations of my favorite headcanons/imagines/fics/scenarios (I don’t own any)
・・・・・・
Cloud Strife
fluff / shy kisses
fluff / sparring
fluff / I wouldn't mind holding your hand
fluff / beside manner
angst fluff / suavium
fluff / night
fluff / chocobo
angst fluff / scars
・・・・・・
Updated:06-October-2024
Sorry there's only Cloud fics, I'll search more character fics soon
Arcane art style study with Fyolai
hiii can i request a drabble with nikolai, good night and rain kisses (mix) please 🕊️‼️
Nikolai + Rain and Goodnight Kisses ♡˖
Warnings; cursing
Event/m.list
The droplets of water pattered down onto every surface facing the sky, including yours and your boyfriends heads. You could feel the rain dampening your hair and shoulders while Nikolai wore a smile, very pleased by the scene the two of you were painting. Two lovers in the rain, should they kiss? Nikolai thinks yes, it would be just too perfect of an opportunity to pass up. He turned to look at you, his smile faltering upon seeing your frown. "You don't seem to happy, dove." Nikolai comments, speedwalking along the darkened pavement with you. "Not really, I just got over a cold, I don't wanna get another one." You explain with a huff. Nikolai shrugs. "Oh come on, you won't get a cold, it's rather warm out." He teases. "As a matter of fact, I think it's nice, a perfect setting for a scene where two people have a disagreement and fix their issues with a kiss." He grins, trying to lead you to his idea. You roll your eyes. "That's only in movies, I'm trying to haul ass home right now, not stop for a kiss. I'm all cold and wet." You shiver, grabbing his hand to pull him along as you pick up your speed walking. "If you fall into a puddle because you're so determined to arrive home I'm going to laugh at you." He states. "It's dark out and the streetlights don't illuminate everything, sweetheart." "I'm not gonna fall, trust me." You say, your street coming into view. "Just one kiss?" He asks, squeezing your wet hand in his own. "Maybe when we get home." You say, starting to consider it just to appease him, but your cheeks heat up at the thought of the romantic gesture. You can hear his quiet "tee-hee" from his position behind you and you quickly turn the corner onto the boulevard in which you two reside. You can see your house and you let out a large sigh of relief and exhaustion. You finally walk through your driveway and to the front porch, but stop and place a hand on Nikolais chest. A chesire-cat like grin spreads acrossed his face and he lets you pull him in and kiss him, the rain drops still falling on top of you. His soaked thumbs delicately trace hearts on your face as your lips move together before parting for a breath of air, laced with the taste of the rain.
The only indication of the downpour was the visible droplets directly in front of the street lamps as the two of you walked inside.You took off your shoes and immediately went to grab towels for you both. "Stay there for a second, I'll be right back." You commanded your boyfriend, who was practically dripping. When you returned, you tossed him the cloth and he started to dry his hair, you patting down your body. The two of you silently walked to the bedroom, Nikolai already started to shed his wet clothing with his hair wrapped up and was completely topless by the time you stepped through the doorframe. While you were rummaging through the dresser drawers for pajamas, his voice broke the silence. "Could you grab me some pajamas too?" He asks, ruffling his hair to dry it. "Like pajamas pajamas or your pajamas?" Nikolai had pajama pants and old tee shirts he'd sleep in, but he often preferred to sleep in just underwear. "My pajamas." You tossed him a pair and started to strip out of your own wet clothing, hating the feeling of it sticking to your skin and making it more difficult to change. Once you finally got into clean, warm clothes, you flopped down in bed with your boyfriend who had finished changing first due to the simplicity of his sleepwear. His arm draped over your waist and he pulled you closer, kissing your forehead, nose, and finally your lips. "Y'look sleepy, all that running tire you out?" You let out an affirmative groan. "Alright then, I'll let you go to sleep, sweetheart." He kisses you one final time before allowing you to slip into a field of dreams and comfort.
A/n; I hope this was okay!! I've gotten more reqs for Nikolai than I thought I would and 3 separate requests for kissing Nikolais thighs lol 😭
drew this as soon as I saw him in this outfit
🎭 FACES 🎭 ✦ NIKOLAI GOGOL