Long Time No Nikolai..

old Nikolai doodle (from yesterday)

Day 23 of squab September is the dusky turtle dove ft. Nikolai from bungo…. Bsd is one of my friends fav shows so this is for her <3

EX ESPOSO SHADOW MILK x LECTOR FEMENINO Headcanons

ADVERTENCIAS: Ligero NSFW

Honestamente esta es mi primera publicación, no esperen mucho. No pienso traducir esto, usa Google Traductor en su lugar. Pregúntame lo que sea en inglés pero lo responderé en español.

🎭 Ex esposo Shadow Milk quien te pierde la pista una vez que es confinado en el árbol de plata, preocupado por la profunda tristeza que su corrupción y sentencia te traerían. A pesar de no haberse separado formalmente, fue el tiempo quien los divorció.

🎭 Ex esposo Shadow Milk que te llama “su mujer” frente a Puro Vainilla y los demás a pesar de que durante tu camino sin él, viajaste con SU enemigo. Inevitablemente siendo llamada por la souljam prístina que alguna vez le perteneció a él y bajo la que contrajiste nupcias hace eones.

🎭 Ex esposo Shadow Milk que no deja de mirar la marca dorada alrededor de tu dedo anular que combina con la suya y donde antes descansaba un anillo de oro que el tiempo se encargó de reducir a polvo.

🎭 Ex esposo Shadow Milk que sabe que nunca le serías infiel, mucho menos con PV. Y se burla de él por notar como los restos inútiles de su souljam resuenan contigo inevitablemente. Protegiéndote de sus trucos y hablando por ti al momento de enfrentarlo. Pero solo es otra forma de manifestar lo profundo que estás incrustada en la mente y corazón de aquella bestia. Tan tan profundo, que ese anhelo se irradia hacia el otro portador de la virtud de la verdad.p

🎭 Ex esposo Shadow Milk que hace un espectáculo y le hace saber a cada criatura dentro de Beast Yeast que la reina ha regresado a tomar su lugar. Y te deja tomar el control que te pertenece dentro de la torre, haciendo que puedas cambiarla a tu antojo, curvar las paredes de los pasillos, hacer que la puerta que abras sea de la habitación exacta a la que querías llegar, poniendo en tu camino a las criaturas más dóciles y guiándote con un camino dulce de flores de leche hacia él. Lamentablemente tus compañeros no corren con la misma suerte que tú.

🎭 Ex esposo Shadow Milk que te asusta con esa personalidad caótica y violenta, se te eriza la piel verlo tan desatado y fuera de juicio. Pero incluso con la corrupción carcomiéndole la poca sanidad que le queda, ¿qué clase de caballero sería si hace llorar una vez más a su linda esposa?

🎭 Ex esposo Shadow Milk que te toma de la mano suavemente y se pone de rodillas para besarte los nudillos en señal de sumisión y lealtad hacia ti. La luz de la permanente luna hace a su cabello brillar, casi como en aquella época de opulencia donde solía ser un dios sabio y benevolente.

🎭 Ex esposo Shadow Milk que aún te ama y el mero hecho de tocar tu piel después de eones lo hace temblar y su cabello se derrite. Los ojos que forman el todo en su interior están fijos en ti, babea y puedes ver colmillos afilados a través de su respiración agitada.

🎭 Ex esposo Shadow Milk que se acerca a ti y te susurra cuanto ha pensado en ti desde que las brujas los separaron, cuanto te ha anhelado y lo feliz que está de volver a tenerte cerca. Que te endulza el odio con palabras suaves y frases atrevidas mientras te das el lujo de estar de pie al lado de la bestia del engaño y no solo salir viva. Sino; ser objeto de todo su afecto.

🎭 Ex esposo Shadow Milk que sabe que te gusta lo que ves. Su vestimenta y actitud más atrevida, más encantador, más poderoso, más dominante, MEJOR que ese mojigato que solía ser en el pasado. Que te hace saber cuanto te desea, cuánto poder tienes sobre él y no le da miedo demostrar el desenfreno y pasión con la que te ve.

🎭 Ex esposo Shadow Milk que renueva sus votos matrimoniales y te hace el amor bajo el eterno cielo estrellado, en la habitación más alta de la torre del conocimiento engaño. Que aunque sabe que seguir amándose les traerá a ambos la más grande de las amarguras, no puede evitar repetir una y otra vez “te amo, te amo, te amo”.

🎭 Ex esposo Shadow Milk que te toma lento para no asustarte y te abraza para asegurarse de que estás ahí con él y no eres solo otra de sus alucinaciones. Que sabe que No estás acostumbrado a sus formas bruscas y su tacto áspero, así que te acostumbra y te muele a su gusto.

🎭 Ex esposo Shadow Milk que no puede evitar perder el control un poco a mitad de camino. Siendo perseguido por eones de no tenerte, de no sentirte. Te araña, te muerde el cuello, te chupa, te azota el culo y te sostiene con sus cuerdas para que tomes todo de él y él se lleve todo de ti. Corriéndose una y otra vez dentro de ti, lamentando que de su cuerpo divino no había forma de engendrar vida. Así que, cuando finaliza el espectáculo con ambos corriéndose juntos en armonía, las lágrimas se le escaparon y se dejó caer sobre ti como una marioneta sin vida.

🎭 Esposo Shadow Milk que en el momento en que vuelve a poner un lindo anillo de oro y gemas azules en tu dedo su dominio comienza a cambiar en una amalgama de ambas almas unidas. PV observa con horror desde abajo como el dominio de la bestia te absorbe y tú lo devoras en su lugar. El cielo de las ruinas de lo que antes era el reino que gobernabas con él: se ilumina. Y cada criatura dentro de la torre del engaño se arrodilla y es obligado a arrodillarse.

🎭 Esposo Shadow Milk que aparece ante PV y los demás flotando contigo entre sus brazos con una enorme sonrisa burlona. Ahora que Puro Vainilla te observa en tu máximo esplendor, simplemente se rinde. Estabas hecha a la medida para Shadow Milk, toda tu forma, tus gentiles manos, rasgos impíos y cabello suave; todo para alguien que no es él.

[Twitter] | [BlueSky] | [Discord Server] | [Other Sites I'm On + Comm info]

Gabriel.

SHADOW MILK COOKIE INVADES YOUR TUMBLR

RB to infect other blogs with shadow milk cookie

TRASH SUGAR MAGIC

➛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 5: ᴅᴇꜱɪᴅᴇʀᴀᴛᴜᴍ

➛ nikolai gogol x fem!reader

➛ cw: past abuse, violence, psychological drama, angst, light fluff, mature content, very suggestive | words: 6.5k

➛ ao3 | spotify | main menu

Unknown place, many years ago.

The bus was late.

You sat alone on the bench at the bus stop, eyes watching the people in the park just across the street—a group of friends which you recognised to be from your school as well. They were having their time together, joking around, being loud, uncaring of how the others perceived them—in this case, no one really was looking at them other than you.

How lucky.

You had forgotten what it felt like to have such a tight group bonded together. Sure, you knew a lot of people—but they were never reaching beyond your line, always staying where they would be considered as colleagues or schoolmates.

You wondered how fun it would be to experience such things. Do they have a group chat only with them? Do they go out every weekend to catch up with each other? Do they know each other's parents? How many secrets do they know about each other?

How do they even make friends?

You instinctively reached into your pocket, only to remember that you possessed no smartphone of your own. Your father did not allow it—as he did not want to pay for your internet services. Besides, there were more traditional ways that can you do to achieve so many great things—or at least that's what he told you to kill your small ounce of hope.

The bus arrived.

You got into it and tapped the metro card you hardly tried to get. But you still needed to top up the amount of the card and that just meant you had to work more hours tomorrow in the local convenience store.

You took a seat and once again, you observed your surroundings. You saw a pair of father and daughter sitting in the row next to you, just a few seats ahead. The daughter was chattering—something about a new bookshop she wanted to visit, and the father was nodding and listening intently, with a soft smile on his face.

Annoyance somehow was boiling in you.

You did not realise you had been clenching your skirt as you watched their interactions. And when you turned away, your eyes were fixed on the small television on the bus. It was broadcasting a mourning event for government officials in Yokohama, Japan who were mass-murdered brutally by a terrorist a few years ago. It seemed that the government officials were cut in half with some kind of circular saw.

Scary world we live in… But it must be nice to have people mourn for you.

The ride on the bus took about fifteen minutes and you walked for another five minutes to finally get to your house. You opened the door, entering the house after you took off your shoes.

“I'm back.”

You saw the sight of your father getting ready in the living room. He was wearing his watch, looking somewhat fancy.

“Are you going out?” You asked but he said nothing other than reaching for his keys and wallet. He was going out indeed. He looked like he was going to have a formal meeting with someone and perhaps it was far away because you saw him taking a backpack from the couch.

Why do you always leave me alone?

“Where are you going? Can I come?” Again, no answer. He only glared at you and you already flinched, shutting your mouth before something else got thrown in your direction. You silently made your way to your room, but you paused when you passed by the calendar.

You turned to your father who was wearing his boots. Gulping nervously, you opened your mouth, asking, “Today's mom's birthday,” He was already sighing and standing up. “Could we—”

Your words were halted when your father stomped towards you, grabbing you by your hair. He yanked your head, shouting things you could barely process due to the shock.

“SHUT UP! Can't you just shut the fuck up! Stop asking so fucking much, stupid bitch!”

You shriek, trying to get away from his hold. He shook your head by your hair roughly before shoving you back, causing your head to bump against the wall hard. You winced, holding your spinning head.

“I was just asking about mom! She was your wife! Don't you care?”

“I fucking don't! It's been fucking years and you're still being a fucking child!” He shouted before he angrily turned away to leave the house. “I'm not gonna be back for a few days. You make sure this house is clean or I'll fucking sell you, bitch. If only that's possible because nobody wants your worthless ass!”

The door slammed closed. Your lips quivered.

Tears did not come out. There were no more of them left.

You slowly nodded to your gone father—he would not see it but you just felt the need to respond to his command. You quietly got to your room.

It was great to be alone—you now were left with a bit of freedom. Solitude, after all, is your closest friend.

Today was your mother's birthday. Perhaps you could make a run to the convenience store you currently work at—usually they have those staff discounts—to buy some sweet foods.

Your mother loved sweet foods. Or so you thought. Your memories of her had become clouded and you did not know which one was real or unreal, for your brain might as well have created fake memories to fill in your desire to experience such joy again.

You did not even remember how and why she died.

But it did not stop you from celebrating her birthday and mourning for her. Wouldn't it be lonely to have no one mourning for you? You could not just imagine how scary it is to be so lonely after death—and to have no one to mourn you, it would be a crueller punishment.

You truly pray you will not be lonely—but it seems inevitable at this point in time.

You got to your room, ignoring the lingering pain on your scalp due to your father's pull on your hair. You put your school bag on the floor and open your closet to get your savings box. But your face ashened when you noticed the clothes were all messy and unorganised. You dug your arms into the closet, reaching for the savings box.

Light.

You opened it—empty.

— ♡

“Yeah, I'll wait at the usual place. Okay, 4AM. As usual, yeah.” Nikolai says with a low voice, a phone is held close to his ear. He occasionally takes a peek at the living room, making sure you are not doing anything stupid.

“Is there any update about this girl, Vik? It's been like a week now.” He asks and he hears Viktor sighing from the other side.

“Not at all, bro. I've sent messages to the loan sharks and they only say that they're still working on their part. My best guess is that they are actively trying to figure out where her dad is before using her as a hostage. ” Viktor replies with a grunt. “Have you asked her about her daddy again? Maybe she tells ya? ”

Nikolai purses his lips. It has been a week after he abducted you and the only time he had asked about your father's whereabouts was in the first few hours you woke up from your soundful sleep. He actually has not asked you more about it, not even when the chance presented itself. Matter of fact, he does not even remember thinking about asking you whenever the chance presents itself.

Has he gotten soft over you? No… No, that's impossible. Nikolai would not let himself be vulnerable again. He would not let a small fracture for anyone to see through him. He has learnt that the hardest way already. And he will not repeat it again.

But it feels like your fingers are digging in that fracture, prying, clawing, creaking open his heart—those innocent gazes are the devil, he thinks.

“Kolyushka?”

“Huh? O-Oh. Right, yeah… about that… Uh, she doesn't tell me…” Nikolai quickly says. Viktor hums suspiciously and Nikolai already dislikes the tone in his voice. He tries to compose himself. A single thought about you has his mind wobble and the grip he has on his ideal is starting to loosen.

“She doesn't tell you… or you didn't ask her? ”

“She doesn't tell me.” Too quick to lie.

“Right… Uh-huh. Something tells me that you two—”

“Wait.” Nikolai is about to respond to him but his word is stuck in his throat when he catches an array of smacking noises coming from the living room. “I'll talk to you later.” He says shortly to Viktor before ending the call abruptly. Nikolai rushes to the living room, stomping.

“What are you doing?”

He sees that you are smacking the broken television multiple times as you rapidly press the buttons on the remote control. Nikolai gets to you, purposely groaning loudly in annoyance. He wraps his hands around your body, pulling you back. His nose takes a short whiff of your scent—it is already getting similar to him due to you using his soap and shampoo.

If you are his lover, he would tackle you right there and then.

“Fuck.” He takes a short breath. Now really is not the time to think with his dick. “Get up. You crawl from that fucking couch just to smack this TV?” He says as he yanks you and practically drags you back to the couch. You whine at the force of his rough hold and the straining rope around your ankles.

Turning your head to him, you pout. Your hands are on his strong arms and your newly polished baby-blue nails are grazing lightly against his skin. Nikolai swallows nervously before he shuts away his thoughts and tosses you onto the couch.

It has always been like that for the past several days. You can sleep and wake up whenever you like, eat whatever Nikolai gives to you for lunch, clean yourself while he guards the door and for the rest of the day up until past dinner, you are just sitting in the living room with your ankles bound to the couch leg, accompanied with little entertainment Nikolai provided for you. Old books, old magazines and outdated newspapers. And oftentimes, you are just chattering with him and him only.

“I am bored! I have read most of these… old reading materials you gave me.” You complain, trying to raise your body for whatever agenda you have in mind. Nikolai frowns, lightly tapping your cheek as he pushes you to sit on the couch. He holds your shoulder, pinning you to lean back as he towers over you.

“Know your place, little doll. There's nothing here to satisfy all your demands.”

Your shoulders drop in disappointment, but your eyes are lingering on him for too long—and Nikolai notices that. He has been noticing the way you look at him and he hates it. He hates the way you observe and stare at him, especially the way you say his name.

No, he is not denying anything. He wants to convince himself that this is a trick. It must be. It must be, it must! His heart will not betray him anymore, will it?

“… Sit there.” He commands and you nod slowly. Nikolai purses his lips and sits on the floor instead. He takes out his phone and texts someone mysterious as you only watch him quietly.

“You are always on your phone… What are you up to?” You ask and he only glances at you. He knows that ignoring you would just spike up your curiosity. Every question you bring up will end up with a full-on conversation. Even if he looks away, a sweet call of his name is enough to make his irises slide towards you.

He does not really have anyone else to talk to other than Viktor. Even so, he does not trust Viktor one hundred percent. He does not trust others as well. Nikolai is an avid liar—a trait he still keeps as long as he remembers. He lies so much that he distrusts so much.

“I have a job, darling. How do you think I can still afford shit in this economy?” He replies. You open your mouth to say something but Nikolai raises his hand, stopping you. “I know what you want to ask. What exactly is my job, right? I do dirty work. Including… this.” He grabs your ankle, nudging it up before he drops it.

“Is it rewarding?”

“Depends.”

“What's the most expensive one you have ever gotten paid for?”

“Eating humans.”

You gasp and shake your head. “That's… not funny…”

Nikolai scoffs—a smirk curves on his lips as his thumb slides around his phone screen again. “You don't wanna know, dolly. If all of my crimes were actually presented during my trial, I would get a death sentence. But, luck was on my side. Sort of. The laws have been so weird.”

You are not saying anything back and Nikolai's eyes trail up to you. And he takes a moment to appreciate your appearance—you are wearing your baby blue dress again today after days of wearing his clothes to compensate for your lack of clothing. When you sit, the hem of the skirt is just short enough to reveal more of your thighs.

Cute.

No. No no no, I did not think that. Not again. Not again.

“I find it weird.” You suddenly say.

“What weird, darling?” He asks back and he swears he could hear your little flustered noise which you submerge desperately with a small cough. He holds himself back from smiling but quickly straightens his expression—God, how he dislikes how easily his lips curve.

“Uhm… Well, you have been doing dirty jobs for a while after you got out of prison… But you aren't caught again. And… when you said 'If all of my crimes were actually presented', does that mean you were convicted because of a few crimes?” You ask, leaning towards him. Closer, closer, closer that you might as well rest your head against his arm. Nikolai squints his eyes—aren't you supposed to be afraid of him? You are getting too comfortable to be so close to him right now.

“Obviously.”

“But, see, see! That doesn't make sense, no?” You are getting a little too enthusiastic about this topic, clasping your hands together. “You are roaming freely in this country, because you leave no trail of your crimes, right? I'm sure you are! I mean, you are very skilled.” You say with a strange admiration. “Surely, you are very careful to not leave shreds of evidence of your crimes so the police won't get you. But how did the police manage to arrest and convict you for a few of your crimes? It's hard to believe that you would be careless like that.”

Nikolai's throat is getting drier—his heart is tugging downwards as his mind is expecting a lot of bad things that you are about to say.

“Were you really careless?” You mutter, as if it is a question to yourself instead of him. “Or was it because of someone else? Did you work alone before prison? Or did you have a friend—”

Friend.

“SHUT UP!”

You physically flinch and your smile drops instantly, only to be thundered with a strike of fear in a matter of seconds. Your hands automatically raise to shield yourself—as if a manifestation of anger is about to hit you.

But Nikolai is pale.

His tongue is numb and his eyes are shaking—not because of anger, but the pang of a certain realisation that he was attuned too well is returning to eat his heart alive. The fangs of that old instinct are tearing it. It grows and grows, and once, it has managed to devour him whole.

I thought I had abandoned it.

Guilt.

“I'm sorry.”

Sorry? For what? Why? This isn't supposed to happen. This is NOT how I want to be. She is scared of me now, isn't that a good thing? That is what she is supposed to do. She is supposed to be scared of me, fear me, dread me. There is no need for an apology or a mea culpa.

“No, I'm not sorry— Wait, no. No, I am. I am. I… I don't… I mean, I'm…”

He takes a sharp inhale of breath. “Fuck me.”

In less than ten seconds, Nikolai grabs his keys on the coffee table and his coat that is hanging on a row of hooks by the door. He leaves the house, without even sparing a look at you, without even another word to you. He knows he is not a good actor by now—and you can definitely read his face if he turns to you. He shuts the door, hoping he can shut away his guilt and you altogether.

His heart will get devoured more if he sees your face.

— ♡

“Kolya, are you not going home?”

Nikolai looks up from the folds of his arms, turning to Olga who serves him a cup of water. He has been in the diner since evening and now it has reached past 11PM, the time when the diner is officially closed. But Olga has not kicked him out yet.

“Uh… I am.” He says as he takes the water and drinks it. Olga shakes her head, resting her hands on her waist.

“Did you argue with your girlfriend?” Nikolai clicks his tongue in annoyance and gives back the cup to Olga.

“No, she's not… my girlfriend. Stop saying that.” He sighs. Olga tilts her head, and one eyebrow perks up.

“Do you swing that way?”

“I swing in multiple ways.”

“I see. Well, maybe you could swing out of my restaurant as well because I want to go home now.” She taps the table in dissatisfaction. “You have been sitting at the table in the corner, sleeping and asking for more vodka after your fourth cup. I hope you are not too drunk to drive.” She says.

“Nope, I got this. I got this.” He says as he stands up, stretching himself with a groan. Olga scrunches her face and just flat out her palm, asking for his payment. Nikolai grumbles under his breath as he takes out several crumpled notes he does not bother to count and places them on Olga's palm. “Geez, give me some slacks already.”

“I'm poor too, Kolya. I can't treat you all the time.” She says before she gestures her head towards the door. “Now, go home and reconcile with her.”

“I am not arguing with her.” Nikolai pouts but he leaves the diner regardless. The night is darker, approaching midnight. The snow is falling slowly, forming some icy clouds on his head. They are not heavy but it is still cold. Nikolai gets to his car quickly and checks his phone one last time before driving home.

Every step he takes to get to his unit is heavy. As he gets closer to the door, the desire to turn around and sleep in the car instead is getting stronger as well. Nikolai does not like how his chest feels right now—so tight, so caging. He is well aware of his own head and for the umpteenth time, he wishes he would never be gifted with this kind of mind.

“It's okay. Just ignore. Just ignore her.” He whispers to himself as he opens the door and enters his house. The whole interior is dark. The lights are not turned on at all.

He does not see you though.

Nikolai takes off his boots and he treads slowly further into the living room. Then he finally sees you, lying on the same couch, sleeping. He moves around the couch, noticing that your legs are still tied. He unsettles.

He realises he left you bound to the couch like this, for a lot of hours, in the dark alone.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I am fucked.

“Hey, doll…” He kneels beside you by the couch and calls for you softly. His shivering hand traces your chilly arm and he can definitely feel the subtle trembling from you. He shakes your body slowly, attempting to wake you up.

“Mmh…” You mewl but you are not opening your eyes. He decides that it is not the best time to bother you anymore so Nikolai quickly unties your ankles and carefully places both of his hands under your knees and back. He swoops you up and walks into the bedroom. He puts you on the bed and covers you with his slightly torn blanket.

His hand rests on your waist as he stares deeply into your face. His fingers are itching to hold you—and they are clenching on your waist as his hand trails to your hip before it moves up slowly. Very slowly, as if he is trying to feel the way your side curves. His hand then rests on your head. Something is pulling the strings of his fingers, urging him to caress your head. But he pulls away quickly.

He leaves the room, back to his new sleeping place.

— ♡

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Nikolai's eyes jerk open when his ears catch the sound of his alarm going off. He groans at the pain in his back after laying on the uncomfortable hard couch for hours. He squirms—and even his movement is too limited. The couch is small and he is such a tall man—his legs are propped up on the armrest of the couch.

“Good morning.”

Nikolai turns his head to the side, jumping slightly when he sees you are kneeling by the couch, facing him. You are wearing one of his bomber jackets over your baby blue dress and he does not even want to question that anymore.

“M'rning.”

You give him a small smile and Nikolai wonders if you want to talk about his outburst yesterday. Or do you want to pretend that nothing happened? Because if that is the case, Nikolai would gladly take the chance. He does not want to talk about it at this moment.

He gets up, groaning while he is at it. His shirt is crumpled and he feels very uncomfortable. He leans to take his phone and looks at the time—8:06AM.

“You woke up early,” Nikolai says to you as you move to sit on the couch beside him.

“I was very hungry. So I helped myself.”

Guilt. Again.

“Right… Right, glad that you're… uhm… independent.” He says, rubbing his face and hiding it behind his palm. He sighs internally but not for long when he feels a tug on his arm. He turns to you.

“I made you breakfast too. As… As for my apology for being too invasive yesterday… I'm really sorry.”

Well, shit. Now I have to talk about it, huh?

Nikolai does not plan to apologise back to you. His outburst is justified. And he does not owe you anything—even a shimmer of kindness. Yes, yes, no need to be sorry about it—he is supposed to be mean and you are supposed to dread him. He is your captor and you are his temporary property to be traded to greater greatness. There is no need for sympathy.

“I'm sorry too.”

“Hm?”

He wishes he was dead.

Oh, dear me, why haven't you killed yourself when you had the chance in prison?

He wants to protest—he desires to tell you that he does not mean any of his words. This chord of apology does not come from him. He wants to make it clear to you about that, and yet, he knows he is convincing himself to another fruitlessness.

Nikolai does feel sorry.

Why do you lie to yourself? Again? —His head mocks. Mockery. Jittery. Pathetically judging his own heart he somehow is holding a sense of humanity he wishes to cast away.

“Apology accepted,” You say with a nice smile—the smile that comes from a naive heart that blinds themselves from perceiving gloom. Or perhaps you did see his gloom, which is why you accepted his awkward apology. “Now we are even, right?” You add as your hand carefully touches his.

“Yeah… I suppose so.” Nikolai swallows nervously. His chest tightens as if his heart is trying to make a flip out of his system. He pulls away his hand from you swiftly before he looks at you, scanning your figure from head to toe. And he now realises that you have been moving freely in the house when you are supposed to be in bed.

“How are you walking around? Did you—?” He bends and grips your ankle. No sign of a broken rope or anything.

“Uh… You didn't tie me last night…”

“I didn't?”

“Mm-hmm…” You nod adorably before you sheepishly say, “And… I wanna say thank you for carrying me to the bed—”

“Keep that away, I'm not gonna hear it.” Nikolai stops you immediately. If you sweetly appreciate him verbally again, he will have a harder time following his logic. “I'm gonna… take a bath before breakfast…” He says as he gets up. Your eyes follow him—like a curious cat and he only curses to himself when he finds himself staring into your irises longer than they should.

“I'll wait for you.” You say, smiling at him. You keep throwing sugars at him—Nikolai despises it.

He says nothing and leaves you alone on the couch.

— ♡

“Is it good?”

“Decent. Can't beat Olga though.”

“Well, we don't have the same type of bread as hers.”

“We? You're in my house, doll. Know your place.”

“Mm-hm. You don't have the same type of bread as hers.”

Nikolai snickers as he sips his water. He reaches for his phone at his side and scrolls the screen again. You observe him carefully, curiosity perks up when you notice he gets more serious when he spends his time on his phone.

“Why are you always on your phone?” You ask.

“I do all my work on this phone. I invested a lot in this device and gladly it worked better for me than having a complete computer set. This house will crumble if I ever get a computer. The tenant is stingy with electricity.” Nikolai replies before he puts away his phone to eat peacefully. You tilt your head—this behaviour of being tightwad to one's self reminds you of someone.

“You said my father is a cheapskate but you're kinda like one…”

Nikolai clicks his tongue at your comment. “At least I spent my money on your ass without you having to work your ass off.” He grunts and you chuckle. Upon hearing your chuckle, Nikolai could not help but smile as well—what a symphony, he thinks. However, he does attempt to hide his smile by stuffing more bread into his mouth.

“That means you're better than my father, then.” Your grin but a shadow of disappointment is casting over your face. Your grin falters as you stare at the table. “Well, that is… ironic, isn't it? My father does not even want to lend his jacket to me when it's cold… What's his is his, and what's mine is his.”

You look at him but Nikolai is just fixated on the plate, as if he does not even want to look back at you. But your piercing gaze on him does not go unnoticed. In fact, you staying silent when staring at him makes him feel more uneasy.

“Honestly, I don't know what I did for my father to treat me like that. I thought he blamed me for my mom's death but he doesn't care about her birthday either. So I don't get why he did things to me…” You say, slowly. Even though Nikolai is not looking, you have the strongest feeling that he is listening intently to you.

“You know, yesterday… Yesterday, when you told me to shut up, I truly thought you were about to hit me and pull my hair and slam me to the wall… Like he often did. Those thoughts were instant. I had a hard time trying to get rid of it even after you left. And… And then I was stuck in the dark for hours because my ankles were tied to the couch. I couldn't move to reach the switches.” You take a deep breath. “It was so scary. I hated it. But the dark isn't the worst thing. It's the solitude. I hated being alone the most and somehow… Somehow I feel like I am always with the thing I hate the most.”

Your hand is mindlessly stirring your hot tea in a plastic cup. You press your lips together before continuing with a solemn smile, “My life is pretty boring. I am a bit envious that you have an interesting background for yourself. You have a tale to tell. And I… Well, I don't even have a story to tell about myself… It always somehow circles back to my father. I don't even think my life is about me at this point.”

Your lips quiver as you find your chest beginning to tremble—a sob is about to burst out of your throat. You quickly sip your tea, swallowing and burying your sobs away although your eyes are already brimming with tears—it is only a matter of time before the droplets stain your cheeks.

“Sorry— I'm just… getting emotional.”

“If you aren't interesting enough, you won't get kidnapped. This whole thing is gonna be your own tale.”

You sniffle and look up at Nikolai. He is gazing back at you with an unreadable expression. You try to form a smile, although you are thinking hard about what he meant by that. He looks troubled and his eyes rapidly avoid yours. But his mouth seems to have a mind on its own.

“Like… Not everyone can tell a story about how they got kidnapped and lived with their kidnapper for days. And, and, and you know, have you thought about how many people can say 'I share clothes with my kidnapper' or 'I eat dinner with my captor every night' like, like that's fuckin' ridiculous, right? Fuck, what the hell am I saying…” He grumbles lowly, palming his face. But his ramble does bring a faint smile to your face.

“Y-Yeah… Maybe you're right.” You say defeatedly but the fact that Nikolai does listen to your chatter solaces your heart—reciprocating a longing in you.

“Right… Yea, so… uh… don't cry… Yeah, don't cry. You sound like a squeaky duck.” He says as his lips form a thin line. “Or whatever. I don't care.” Nikolai is anxious, you can see. He awkwardly gathers his dish and cup before going to the sink.

You only watch him washing the dishes and the pan you used—you left them there, planning to wash them later yourself. But Nikolai does it instead without any complaints. You expect he would give you an earful about your mess.

You notice how he does not raise his voice at you at all today. Does he feel guilty about yesterday still? You do want to ask about his confusion and short rambles when he 'accidentally' says sorry to you right after he shouted at you.

Come to think of it, you have been observing him for a while now. You take notes of his subtle quirks and you do notice a certain similarity in some of his expressions with his confused apology yesterday.

Conflict.

Nikolai sometimes looks conflicted about things.

Annoyance is quite easy to detect—it is evident in his tone. But when he is conflicted, his eyes bear no anger or irritation. Rather, he looks lost. Too lost. As if he is thinking a lot of things at once. As if he has many voices in his head talking to him at once. As if a lot of invisible hands are trying to reach him at once.

“I know I tell a lot of things about myself…” You speak and he turns his head to you. “I just find it easy to talk to you. I like talking to you and I like hearing you talk as well… I would like to know more about you.” You smile cutely.

“Might as well, might as well. Maybe then you'll fear me properly like a captive would.” Nikolai snorts before he continues cleaning the dishes as fast as he can. He finishes the task after three minutes and he goes to dry his hands with a napkin.

The heaviness that loomed earlier is lifted—the air is no longer tense. You open your mouth to converse more about your curiosity about your kidnapper, only for him to suddenly pull your arm, forcing you to stand up. As soon as you stand, he wraps his arm around your torso, holding you close and tight. Nikolai says nothing other than dragging you out of the kitchen and to the bedroom.

“Hm?”

“I'm going out. Got a job to do. You're gonna stay here, tied. I'm not taking risk.”

His sudden roughness triggers your fight-or-flight. You harden your footing and Nikolai looks at you, shocked actually. He stops and you nervously ask, “W-Wait, Nikolai… C-Can I come with you? I-I don't wanna be alo—”

“No, you can't and you will stay here with food and warmth. I'm not tolerating your demands. This is an important job.” He cuts you off, yanking your body. You yelp at his force and you whine, struggling against him—whining, whimpering. But he is not even affected by your thrashing as he drags you to the bed. He pushes you to sit.

Nikolai sighs as he stands right in front of you, looking down at your pleading gaze. Your pouty lips are muttering his name as your hand is tugging on his shirt. He inhales deeply and has to look away—as your hand is just too close to his belt.

Mind is going wild. Your pleading eyes and the way you beg for his sympathy are tickling a side he has put away when he thought his lust was nothing but a hindrance. Lust is so unimportant, he thought, but now he has an intense desire to satisfy it.

“Hey, Kolya! Don't just leave me!” You whine, tugging on his shirt again and again, causing his body to sway forward and closer to you. Nikolai feels his heart beating faster when he leers at you. He can feel his face getting immersed with crimson when his eyes—like a magnet—trail down to gaze on your chest and then thighs. You are not even wearing your white stockings along with your dress today and the lower part of the dress is already short enough. Even if he closes his eyes, he already sees the lines of the dress. Even if he closes his eyes, he can already imagine you. And his hand is still blazing with the memory of when you placed it on your thigh at the laundrette a few days ago.

Days—and he still wants to touch it, feel it in his hands.

Touch it, hold it, kiss it.

“Nikolai..! Don't just ignore me!” You speak again, seizing him out of his mind, but not too far out since he is partially thinking with his dick now. Nikolai sighs and stares into your eyes, trying his best to not pervertedly look at your body any further.

“No, doll. I won't let you out in the public's eyes.”

“But you know that I don't like being alone…”

“And you don't know what I'm dealing with internally, doll.” He mumbles, holding both of your wrists with each of his hands.

“Then tell me. Aren't we—” You gulp, searching for his eyes. You bring your hands closer to your chest, unintentionally making Nikolai's hands closer as well. He bites his lips and mutters your name slowly in frustration.

“Aren't we friends already?”

“Stop. Please, just stop.” Nikolai groans and jerks his hands away from you. He sighs loudly, repeatedly saying 'Fuck, fuck, fuck' under his breath. He groans once again with his hands resting on his neck. He is clearly very agitated and unfortunately, he could not hurtle out that agitation other than letting it boil in his head—you can see that.

And he is also conflicted.

He takes a long inhale and throws his hands into the air. “Fine. Fine, you know what. Sure, you can come. I'll bring you with me.” He says and you gasp delightedly. Nikolai turns to his closet, rummaging to find something in it. He also takes the chance to wear a black coat over himself.

“R-Really? I'm coming as well? Then… Then I should get ready too, right?”

“Wait a second. I need to give you something. This job is dangerous and you really need this.” He says, though, his tone does not sound right. It is mischievous somehow, mixed with a good pour of sarcasm and deceit. But perhaps it is just your imagination—you do tend to overthink your observation as well.

“Okay… I'll wait.” You reply and sit nicely on the bed as you watch him. Nikolai then turns to you, with a white napkin in his hand.

Oh.

You certainly remember that very napkin. The one that he used to force you to inhale chemicals that knocked you out. Your face pales as you scoot back on the bed.

“Niko— Mmh!”

Without even having a second to react, Nikolai already presses the napkin onto your nose and mouth. One of his knees is on the bed, putting weight as he pushes you to lie down on the mattress. You are frantic but you feel his hand pressing down hard on your neck, blocking your airway to force you to breathe through the inhalation drug.

“Shh, shh, be nice, dolly. Be nice.”

Through your gradually blurry vision, you see Nikolai hovering over you and you are beneath him. Your hands are gripping his arms, nails clawing on his tattoos. Your body arches as you find it harder to breathe. You try to shake your head, but it is futile when Nikolai presses harder, receiving a painful whine out of your throat.

You find your body getting weaker and limp. Your legs jerk upwards and tremble between his thighs. Nikolai lowers his hand that is on your throat to your chest, brushing lightly against your mounds before it slips into the bomber jacket. He takes out something from inside it—from somewhere, as you remember that there is no hidden pocket inside the jacket.

But there it is—a syringe in his hand.

Where did he get that?

“It won't hurt, little doll. I'm an expert.”

You wince when you feel a sharp prick on your neck and your consciousness is slowly fading. Your body feels lighter as your mind is disconnected from reality. With your little last effort, your hands grip Nikolai's body before you surrender yourself to inhale the drug, in addition to another dose being injected in you.

Your eyes are just too heavy to even keep them open. Your breathing is slow. You see him getting off your body and you try to squirm to get up, but you are overcome with intense sleepiness and dizziness. In the midst of cloudy vision, you feel a pair of hands gently fix your dress, especially on your upper thighs.

The last thing you see is Nikolai pulling a long rope out of his overcoat.

𝑳𝑼𝑫𝑼𝑺 — a love that is played as a game or sport; conquest

RECEIVERS。director!nikolai gogol x actress fem!reader

WISHCARD。“We are in a fucking car, in a fucking parking area, Nikolai. People might see us, even with this tinted window,” — “Good, let them fucking see.”

BOUQUET。n/sfw 18+, manipulation, age gap (nikolai's in 30s, reader's in early 20s), manhandling, mouthgag, power imbalance, sloppy saliva, semi-public (in a car), submissive!reader, petnames, toxic relationship, dead dove do not eat

PRICE。approx. 5.0k

FREEGIFT。stargirl interlude (the weeknd, lana del rey), you? (two feet)

MAIN MENU。FOUR SHADES OF PINK

“Any date for Valentine's?” 

You look to your side, seeing your co-actress, Amanda, ask about your plan for Valentine's Day tomorrow. You shrug your shoulders as you mix your coffee well in the mug. 

You two are waiting for the technicians to fix an issue that suddenly came up during a shot. A camera had a wire malfunction and it almost sparked fire before they quickly put it out. 

This project you are filming now is co-directed by Nikolai, the toxic man you somehow get yourself involved with. He does not even care about the ongoing rumours of his favouritism towards you. Rather, it seems like those rumours only ignite his desire to get closer and more intrusive into your career. 

“No… not really,” you reply slowly. Amanda snorts as she sips her coffee. Her eyes then trail a figure far away and she suddenly giggles to herself. You look at her, confused. “What's wrong?” 

“Nothing. You know, I was thinking…” Amanda says and her voice is lower—almost like a whisper. She nudges her chin, gesturing to you to look at someone. You turn your head, eyes roaming the people to find that certain person Amanda is referring to. 

“… I kinda want to give chocolates to Gogol. What do you think?” 

Your head twists back to her, and your eyes slightly widen. Amanda is smiling sheepishly as she stirs her coffee. Her face is reddening with crimson, blushing at the mere thought of giving chocolates to Nikolai.

“Why… him?” you ask carefully. You hope your tone does not sound like you are envious. After all, there really is no reason for you to! She is just giving chocolates. It is just a friendly gesture, right? 

Amanda hesitates to reply to you, it seems. She glances at you and then Nikolai, before she shrugs her shoulders. “I think he is very nice… He looks out to so many people too.” She says. “Besides, he is quite hot, don't you think? Better to give chocolates to hot dudes than ugly guys, right?” 

“Right…” you just nod and avert your attention elsewhere. But luck is not on your side, because as soon as you turn your attention away from Amanda, your eyes connect immediately with Nikolai. And it is clear that he has been stealing glances at you. 

He does not shy away when he notices that you have seen him. Instead, he just grins. 

Nikolai makes a casual stride towards you and Amanda. And you can hear Amanda's small panicky voice when she realizes Nikolai is coming towards her. She is clearly flustered with his presence—perhaps she has caught feelings without knowing it. 

“You girls okay?” Nikolai asks, putting his hand in his pocket while the other twirls a paper cup. “We will have another five minutes before we test the lights to make sure it's all good.” 

“We are alright!” Amanda replies before you can even do so. “What are you drinking, sir? Vodka?” 

Nikolai cackles, shaking his head. “Just soda,” he replies before he looks at you. “You sure you wanna drink the coffee?” he asks, with a slightly mocking tone. Amanda looks at him, a little confused but you are restless. You grip the mug, and for a quick second, you remember the time he slipped something in your drink when it was just the two of you in the studio. 

“Better than your coffee,” you say. “It doesn't have any additives to it, sir. Very good. Much, much, much better.” 

“Touché.” Nikolai raises his hands as if he just loses. Amanda is still confused but before she could even bother you with questions, her manager calls her to get ready for her scene. Amanda bids farewell to you and Nikolai before she leaves quickly. 

As soon as Amanda's seat is empty, Nikolai sits right next to you. There's silence between you and him. Sometimes you are glancing at him, only to find that he is just watching the crew without a word leaving his mouth. 

“You’re angry.” You say. 

“I’m not.” He replies. 

“Are you still angry because I accepted that sponsorship?” You ask carefully, referring to a sponsorship that Nikolai has pressured and emphasized to you to not accept it. But that chance is just too good to be passed on. Nikolai repeatedly says that he does not want you to work with a certain guy—who happened to be moderating the sponsorship—but you went on and accepted it anyway. 

Besides, what in the fuck he could do? He is not your staff member, not even your PR team. You can do whatever you want as long as your team has approved it.

“That sponsorship is shit and you should regret taking it. Ugh, working with that old man who loves to drink until he vomits? Ugh…” Nikolai grunts.

“That sponsorship is not shit. You're just jealous about the fact that I’m about to work closely with another rich man.”

Nikolai glares at you. And you feel like you are winning. Oh, how victorious it feels when you pull away that malicious smile from his face. 

“Why don't you tell me that you're jealous, sir? Or else you wouldn't rewrite a whole kissing scene involving me, right? You can control whatever I do in projects you oversee, but not a sponsorship that is completely unrelated to you.” crossing your arms, you tilt your head at him. Nikolai seems surprised at your change of manner and his silence only feeds your confidence to stomp more on his ego. 

”Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, sweetheart. You don't wanna play shitty games with me. You already did once and I’m willing to let you go for now.” Nikolai smiles, but that smile does not have any shadow of kindness—more of a threat. You snort. 

“Cat got your tongue? Can't admit it?” 

Nikolai hums but remains to say nothing. Instead, he stretches himself, groaning while at it. Without looking at you, he strikes a question, completely ignoring the topic at hand. “Will you come tomorrow? The dinner, I mean.” 

You certainly notice his attempt to change the subject. You smirk. “Admit that you are jealous, or I'm gonna be absent tomorrow.” 

“Ah, sweetheart…” he sighs, pouting. “Don't do me like this. I have to be professional.” 

“I don't recall being professional includes offering a young actress to be his sugar baby.” 

Nikolai grumbles incoherent noises. His nose scrunches. He does not really have a good mood because his schedule does not flow smoothly today—due to the lights accident. He would normally get annoyed when people tease him too much, but he finds it adorable when it is you who is doing it. 

“Hey, don't leave your ‘sugar baby’ hanging. Are you jealous or not?” You press on him, enjoying the boost of confidence. Nikolai groans once again before he stands up. His large hand pats your head.

“Just come tomorrow. Be nice to me for once, yeah?” 

He leaves for the directors' table, with your eyes trailing his figure. You lean back to your seat, drinking the rest of your coffee. Tomorrow evening, there will be a small party involving the crew and the actors for this project. Supposedly, the project will finish filming tomorrow morning and your scene is almost done by today anyway, so you don't have to come to the set in the morning. 

It is just a small party to celebrate the end of the filming period. 

On Valentine's Day. How romantic. 

— ♢

Your phone has been pinging because of Amanda's messages. She is excited to show you her box of chocolates and a big bouquet that she wanted to give Nikolai for Valentine's Day. 

That girl certainly has something going on with Nikolai—or at least that's what you suspected. You know it is normal for Nikolai to interact with rookies a lot of times, considering he is a director for various shows and movies. 

As much as you want to deny it, you do feel slightly ashamed to admit that you feel a tint of jealousy, thinking about Amanda and Nikolai together. Intrusive thoughts are really intrusive at this hour. You cannot stop thinking about his reactions to Amanda's gifts, his gestures towards her, and his words given to her. 

You do not even have any chocolates or gifts to give to anyone tonight. But suddenly you feel pressured to have something. 

“We have ten more minutes before the gate is open for guests. Do you want to stop somewhere?” As if God hears your anxious heart, your manager asks.

“Yeah… Yeah, I think I would like to… stop at a store.” 

“Convenience store? I can get something for you instead. Just send me a text of what you need.” your manager says as he drives the car to the nearest store. He parks the car in front of a premise. 

“Wait, can I just go inside myself?” you say. You do not really want anyone to know you are buying cheap chocolates on Valentine's Day, even to your colleagues. Besides, you want to make a little effort to actually get chocolates as a gift. 

Your manager hesitates to allow you to leave the car, especially when you are wearing a dress and looking like a celebrity at first glance. You try to convince him to allow you to leave the car and after what feels like hours of reassurance to the man, he finally lets you out.

But not without a big puffer jacket with a hood that covers half your face adorning your body. 

“I look like I’m selling drugs,” you mutter. 

“This is the best option so we can avoid ruining your makeup and hair,” he says as he zips up the jacket fully. “Make your trip quick. I fear that there might be paparazzi around.” You nod and after he is done making sure you are unrecognizable as possible, you run towards the store, entering it. 

The worker does not even spare a glance. He is already tired from his job, just sitting at the counter. You make a turn to an aisle, quickly finding a shelf that has a lot of pretty chocolate boxes. The brands are nothing luxurious. But you take your time choosing one that you think Nikolai would like.

So you pick a chocolate box that has quite an expensive price tag on it. It is rectangular-shaped and contains twelve heart-shaped strawberry-flavored chocolates. You make your way to the counter, also grabbing a white teddy bear keychain you see when you are making a payment. 

Done—you thought. It may not be too much, but at least there's something. You hide your stuff in your jacket and run towards the car. Your manager does not bother to ask anything as he is more focused on the time, since the gate has opened for guests to enter the party. 

You keep the chocolates and the small teddy bear inside your high-branded handbag. The teddy bear is fluffy and white in colour, and it has a small hat and an eyepatch on it too. 

When you arrive at the party, most of the guests—the crew and the actors—are already there. Amanda is excited to see you and she jogs to you when he sees you roaming around in the small hall with a glass of champagne in your hand. 

“Hey, you came!” She gives you a hug which you gladly return, and then she brings you to a table, where you are supposed to sit. Turns out, you are sitting beside her. Not really surprising, considering you two closely worked together a lot on this project. 

You take a seat and notice that the chair beside Amanda has a big bouquet of flowers and a shiny chocolate box on it. You turn your head forward, and you see Nikolai's name card is exactly in front of Amanda. 

Ah, he will sit across from her. 

Something stirs inside you. 

It is not long before Nikolai appears with his director friends. And he comes in with some gifts in his arms. Small bouquets of flowers, some chocolate boxes, some gift boxes. 

He has been receiving Valentine's gifts. 

Expensive gifts. 

Amanda gleefully gives him the bouquet and the chocolates, which Nikolai receives with a peal of cheerful laughter. He does not really have any room to hold another one, but he gives the rest of his gifts to his staff, only to take Amanda's bouquet and admire it. 

“Oh, I love chrysanthemums! Ah, are these tulips too?” He asks, looking at the flowers one by one. “Thank you so much, sweetheart. This is beautiful!” He then takes a look at the chocolate box. The red shiny box is wrapped in gold tulle ribbon. You recognize the brand—it is a very luxurious one. A box of their basic milk chocolates already costs half a hundred bucks.

Chocolates don't need to be expensive. You're gonna shit it out anyway.

Your heart mumbles. You purse your lips and look away, clutching your bag. Something is stirring wild in your heart. Timidity creeps up and you suddenly feel small and out of place. 

Amanda and Nikolai are still talking to each other. She is clearly enjoying her time. You glance towards them, only to see Nikolai is kissing her cheek—hopefully in a friendly manner—before they both get to their respective seats. 

Nikolai sits on his chair. He is in front of you, albeit he is directly in front of Amanda. Amanda gets to hers and she sits down with a happy grin at you. You smile back, hoping that you do not appear to be obviously bitter. 

“Are you okay, starshine?” 

Your head perks up when you hear his voice amidst the noise around you from all the people here. You see Nikolai is looking at you. He is resting his chin on his palm and his finger is rubbing his lips. His gaze stays for a long while. 

“Yes. Yes, I am fine,” you reply, awkwardly sipping your champagne. 

“You are very beautiful.” 

Your cheek heats and you smile a little. “Thank you… You too…” 

The conversation ends there, but his gaze doesn't. Even while the main director is making a speech, you notice he is just staring at you. The only thing that truly separates your eyesight and his is just the small chandelier that is hanging between the two of you. 

The dinner went well. A few crew members are leaving and there are still so many people staying behind, drinking and enjoying desserts. You are careful to not consume too much alcohol. You do not want to be batshit drunk tonight. 

But you do feel slightly tipsy. 

As you are drinking wine while listening to your friend’s chatter, Nikolai stands and he speaks something to the people around him. He is leaving, since he has work tomorrow. His staff seems to want to escort him but he orders something to them, and it looks like they are not following him. 

“Well, enjoy the rest of the night, everyone. Sorry, I couldn't stay longer!” Nikolai says as he takes his long coat and drapes it over his body. He glances at you one last time and leaves, without sharing any more words. 

There are no words shared between you and him except his question at the beginning. It feels wrong. Usually he will fawn over you in this kind of setting, but he does not pay you much attention other than occasional stares. 

It feels wrong and empty. 

Especially knowing that your gifts are still in your bag. 

Even after Nikolai has disappeared somewhere, you feel restless. Your legs are shaking as your fingers fiddle with the ribbon of your bag. Amanda can't still stop talking about Nikolai—for obvious reasons—and it makes you feel even more bitter the longer you sit here in this room. 

So you stand up, excusing yourself. Your manager is nowhere to be seen—he is probably somewhere outside. You walk away from the room, following the trail that Nikolai supposedly went through. 

As soon as you are out, you are lost. You are not sure whether you want to ask the man directly about his whereabouts—you don't really want to look desperate, although that feeling is growing rapidly inside you. So you walk around, approaching the basement carpark, in hopes you could find Nikolai. You hope he is alone and not with his manager or staff. 

The basement is lacking people. You see some guards but you do not see Nikolai. You make a round, gripping your bag tightly. You are about to give up, before suddenly a car horns at you. 

You jump, looking to your left. The horn is just too loud like the driver inside just slams their fist onto it. The car that horned at you has tinted windows, not allowing you to see who is inside clearly. But the car plate does itch that memory in the back of your head. 

You rush to the window of the driver's side. The window slides down just a bit, and you finally see the man you have been searching for—though you only see his eyes due to the tinted window. 

“Hello, love. Did I surprise you?” Nikolai smiles. He presses something and a ‘Click!’ is heard. He wiggles his finger as if to invite you inside. And with a little hesitation, you walk around the car to the front passenger seat. You open the door and get inside. 

The car is cold—seems like the AC is blasted high. Though you catch the usual scent of his perfume, it smells flowery somehow. You turn your head to the backseat, finally seeing bouquets of flowers and Valentine's gifts Nikolai has received today. 

Too many people love him. 

“Want some?” Suddenly, he offers you his cup of coffee. You shake your head, refusing politely. Nikolai snorts. “I don't drug it.” 

“No, it's not that… I just drank a lot already…” You reply slowly. Nikolai hums, propping his head on his hand that rests on the car door frame. You two are just sitting in silence, and though you do not look at him, it feels like his gaze is leering at you a little too much. 

“Today's dinner sucks, isn't it?” Nikolai asks. You look at him, blinking confusedly. You thought the dinner went well, at least for him. He got too many gifts too. What is suck about it? 

“I don't think it's bad…” 

“I think it sucks so bad.” 

You glance at the gifts on the backseat. Amanda's bouquet is undoubtedly the biggest one out of everything. Even her chocolate box looks the most expensive. The longer you look at it, the deeper the self-consciousness is digging itself inside you. 

“You got that many gifts just in one night. I’d think the day would be a blessing if that happened to me.” You say. Nikolai snorts scornfully before he goes silent again. You notice he just keeps staring at you, and there really is nothing you can do to make him stop. Even if you tell him to, he will just like it more. 

For some reason, you are feeling used to it. 

Unable to figure out his games, you hastily open your bag and finally take out the convenience store chocolate box and teddy bear keychain. You fix the teddy bear’s appearance, as it was stuffed into your bag in a rush before. 

Swallowing the nervousness, you turn your body to face him. Your arms stretch out, giving him the chocolates and the keychain. 

“Happy… Valentine's Day… uhm…”

God, how embarrassing. You hate how your gifts look compared to the luxury that was given to this man. It is not like you even plan to give him anything—you don't even think you and him have anything more than a completely manipulative and beneficial sexual relationship, but the feeling of competitiveness and jealousy takes over you at the last second. Though you were a little spirited, seeing how rushed your decision is, you are certainly feeling humbled. 

And it feels more like it when Nikolai starts to cackle. His cackle turns into a string of amused laughter. 

“Oh, starshine. You are such an adorable girl.” 

Nikolai takes your gifts, carefully looking at them. His eyes are more fixated on the teddy bear keychain. And without saying anything, he clips it to his key ring. He certainly likes it when he stares at it for a while. 

“I love it. It's cute. Like you,” he says. “From a convenience store, hm? I think I saw this a few days ago in my local store too.” 

“I-It’s a last-minute effort…!” you say, flustered. Of course, people would recognize things that you can easily get from convenience stores. “I just think it's cute for you and I grabbed it without thinking twice.” 

“Hm, hm. Thank you for the effort, baby. This is my favourite gift ever.” He says. Then suddenly, he adjusts his seat, to give more legroom. He spreads his legs, tapping his lap. “Come. I have something to give you too. I’m not an asshole to leave my baby hanging on Valentine's Day, yeah?” 

Deliberately—and shyly—you climb onto his space. Your dress does not really allow you to spread your legs. Nikolai certainly notices that when he, without saying anything, just slides the fabric up your legs, high enough that it almost reveals your crotch. 

“S-Stop, stop,” you say, trying to hold his hands from messing with your dress any further. 

“I’m helping you. I have seen you naked, starshine. Nothing to be shy of.” 

“We are in a fucking car, in a fucking parking area, Nikolai. People might see us, even with this tinted window,” you whine and your voice falters when he places his hand on your inner thigh, grabbing your flesh and pulling you hard. His act forces you to stumble against his body, making you sit on his lap. 

“Good. Let them fucking see.” 

His hand is getting bolder when he slides it up to tease your crotch. You gasp, hips bucking up trying to avoid his surprise touch. But Nikolai holds you down by gripping your waist with his other hand. 

“K-Kolya— Hey—” your voice comes out a little whiny as his fingers start to rub your clothed cunt. Nikolai chuckles deeply. A lewd smirk forms on his face as he watches you. 

“Think you can just let yourself go like that after giving me only those gifts? Honey, you are my gift for Valentine's. I’ve planned to take you tonight anyway. Glad that I don't have to wait for you too long to come for me, hm?”

He retracts his hand from your cunt and the emptiness leaves you with a longing. Your chest heaves. Your hands are gripping his shirt and you feel the heat is pooling in your lower abdomen. 

“W-What does t-that mean?” 

Nikolai grins, holding your chin before he gives you a soft kiss on the lips. His thumb then rubs your lips, teasing its way to press on your tongue. “You’re always so desperate for my attention, sweetheart. We both know that already. Just a simple silent treatment is enough for me to get you crawling back to me.” 

He holds your head now, with his hands gripping each side of your face tightly. Another kiss is planted on your lips, and this time it is deeper—his tongue slithers inside, his lips dancing gracefully on yours. 

His kiss gets a little wilder as his lips trail to your neck, nibbling your skin. You gasp, body jerking to his touch. His hands are roaming freely on your body, and his kisses travel to your throat and collarbone. One of his hands slips to your inner thighs, caressing your skin as his fingers teasingly trace your cunt. 

Damp. 

His fingers skillfully nuzzle your pussy through your panties as his lips are busy kissing your skin. Your arms wrap around him tightly and your lips are letting out soft moans at his teasing touches. Every time the pad of his fingers presses the fabric against your pussy, you can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. 

“F-Fuck…” you sigh softly by his ear when he pushes the fabric to the side. His fingers rub your cunt gently and one of his fingers trails up, brushing against your sensitive clit. 

“Aah!” your body jerks, accidentally pressing hard against him and Nikolai groans when you move too suddenly. A harsh slap lands on your ass, and it is enough to tell you to stay still. “S-Sorry…” 

“You’re moving too much. Maybe I should punish you,” he grins before he pushes you slightly to give himself some space. You look at him in disbelief. He reaches for Amanda's bouquet from the backseat and harshly unties one of the red ribbons from it. Some flowers fall but Nikolai doesn't care. 

“W-What? Why, why do I get punished? I said sorry, didn't I?” you whine but it is not for a long time when he rotates your body so your back would lean against his chest. He puts the ribbon on your opened mouth, tying a tight knot behind your head. You gag slightly, and he roughly holds your jaw. 

“Because you're being a naughty, naughty girl who doesn't listen to me when I say do not do a certain thing. I know, I know—I don't have rights to your career. But you owe me that much, considering I helped you a lot, yes, sweetheart?” Nikolai says, his tone is sadistic and cruel. He kisses your jaw, licking a little drool that drips from your lips. 

“Be a sweet girl tonight, okay?” 

You nod and your submissive eyes gaze up to him. Nikolai stares at you for a few seconds before he snickers. “I like it when I can doll you around. My favourite kind of girl, really. You're my favourite, little doll. My only favourite girl. How lucky you are right now, don't you think?”

You whine when his hand roams to your cunt again. Your pussy is wet and his fingers twirl around a string of arousal. You moan, nuzzling your face against his chest. He brings his slick-coated fingers and slips between the makeshift gag on your mouth. Your drool is lubing up his fingers. 

“Good girl.” he kisses your forehead before he brings his fingers to your cunt, slowly pushing two digits in. You moan softly—his thick fingers easily slip inside, nudging your sweet spots. He starts to thrust his fingers in and out while his lips are kissing your neck. 

You can feel Nikolai's cock beneath your ass and his hips are not-so-subtly grinding against yours. He seeks friction to his boner, and it is clear that he is very hard right now. With his fingers deep and plunged inside your cunt, you try to move your ass against his cock but it's pretty hard to do so when he slips his third finger and continues thrusting faster and faster in your pussy. 

“A-Ah—Ack!” you whimper, head resting against his shoulder as his other hand gropes your tits. He just fondles them, not trying to rip the dress off to free your breasts—which you secretly hope he would do. 

Because the heat in this car is growing rapidly. 

Your choked whimpers mix with his soft groans. The sloppy noises of your cunt accompany your sinful melody. His fingers wave against your sensitive spot, with his thumb rubbing harshly against your clit. Your arousal is heightening and your body is trembling with pleasure. 

The ribbon around your mouth is wet with saliva and your hands are frantic to hold anything. Nikolai keeps your legs spread widely, gripping your inner thigh roughly while you are shaking with bliss. His nails bury deeply into your flesh and you feel so, so close now. 

Eyes shut, your stomach tightening as your hips buckle up against his palm, desperately trying to have more friction on your clit. Nikolai seizes your jaw, pulling the ribbon down so harshly that it hurts your mouth a little. But you pay no mind about it when he sloppily kisses you, tongue exploring each other. His fingers are still thrusting, albeit a little slower and your body begins to tense up. 

Your legs tremble and threaten to shut. You feel one of his fingers leaving your tight snatch, only for it to lightly graze against your asshole. And it shocks you to feel a sensation at a foreign untouched spot. Your legs kick out, and your foot accidentally presses the steering wheel. 

A loud horn startles both you and Nikolai. 

And he is a little too quick to stop everything—pulling his fingers out and breaking the kiss, only to push your head downwards as if to hide you. He looks around, and upon hearing your whimper, he realizes it was you. 

“Fucking…”

“I’m s-sorry…! S-Sorry, Nikolai… ‘m sorry—” you cry, mainly because you are almost reaching your orgasm. You whimper, wiggling your butt, begging for him to touch you again. Nikolai softly sighs as he sees you whimpering and whining to make you cum—seems like your head is slipping into a submissive state. 

“We gotta get out of here first.” He says as he pushes you to the seat beside him. Your dress is a mess and your skin is sweaty and sticky from arousal and sweat. Nikolai looks down to his lap. His pants are already stained with his own precum and your mess. 

He starts to drive off when he notices a guard approaching the floor. He hastily grabs his coat that he drapes over his seat and then covers your messed body with it. Giving you a soft reassuring pat on the head, he turns his attention to the road, driving fast to his apartment—as he couldn't just let his favourite girl be in misery for long now. 

“K-Kolya… Kolya, I’m sorry—” 

“Shush, starshine. You’re coming home with me tonight. Oh, you little troublemaker. How could you be this insatiable? I almost cum in my pants too… Well, fuck.”  

©cherikolya 2024 — 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.