SHADOW MILK COOKIE INVADES YOUR TUMBLR

He/they

20 y/o

rpgs and analogue terror fan

'Cause my love is mine, all mine...★

here we love Nikolai ( ≧ᗜ≦)♡

@/cafekitsune divider

@/nikosaki header

𝑴𝑨𝑵𝑰𝑨 — obsessive love; experience great emotional highs and lows; very possessive

RECEIVERS。stalker!nikolai gogol x fem!reader

WISHCARD。He remembered that night was an absolute hell. He was always so close to you, and yet you were still too far to reach. He did not want to spook you. He hated this. He hated this desire towards you—but goodness, how blissful was it. 

BOUQUET。n.sfw 18+ dark content, stalker!au, stalking, murder and corpse, male masturbation, light angst, obsessive and possessive behaviour, voice fetish(?), cheating, nikolai's pov, the fic is set way before the events in all stalker!au, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

PRICE。approx. 4,3k

FREEGIFT。scary love (the neighbourhood), i wanna feel you coise (AIYLOM)

MAIN MENU。FOUR SHADES OF PINK

February is almost ending. 

Nikolai is anxious. He still hasn't thought of giving you a gift. Sure, you do not know him and never see him for who he truly is outside his ringmaster persona—but he already knows you. He knows you too fucking well. 

Ever since he started to stalk you, he wishes Valentine's Day was never a thing. One of his biggest fears is seeing you being happy and all romantic with another person who is not him. Nikolai hates that just seeing you smile towards your friend makes him all jealous inside. His feelings are eating him up and he cannot just look away even if that's the most merciful thing he could do to himself. 

February 14, hidden in one of the many rooms in your house, Nikolai had to endure witnessing you and your girlfriend kissing and making out on the couch. He saw her hands touching every crook of your skin, spots he had yet to touch. 

He could have just left the house and pretended nothing was happening between you and her. But God—your voice—even if those sweet noises were for somebody else, Nikolai was content enough to imagine that you were purposely being loud enough for him to hear. 

Perhaps that was it! Perhaps you knew he was hidden in the storage room with the door slightly ajar and you moaned and whined loudly for his ears. You were probably climaxing because you were thinking of him, because you knew he was watching. 

Oh, sweetheart! You truly are one!

But drown himself all he wanted in his fantasy, deep down, Nikolai knew you were too in love with that girl. Hell, you still did not know about Nikolai's existence other than his career as a ringmaster. You still have not noticed him around the house, watching you from outside. 

I’m fucking jealous now. 

His cock grew harder when your voice was getting higher. You were panting your girlfriend's name as she rammed her fingers into your cunt, teasing your sweet spot. The squelching noises of kissing and your pussy is luring his own hand to touch himself. Without realizing it, he is already palming himself while his eyes are focused on you and your body through the small gap between the door.

Nikolai thought hours passed but it was just ten minutes before you were cuddling with your girlfriend. His heart burnt and he was overwhelmed with the need to barge out from his hiding and take you away. But he can't do that now. You were enjoying your moment and he did not want to ruin your smile. 

Nikolai made his way out of your house just as quiet as he sneaked in. In his car, driving away, the image of you under someone else's touches was attacking him nonstop. He wanted to pry his head with a knife, hoping he could gut out that image forever. 

But you are already carved inside him. 

His apartment had never felt as empty as ever. Usually on February 14, he can get some people to come and stay the night, hooking up with them. However, ever since he laid his eyes on you, the thought of getting intimate was just towards no one but you. 

Nikolai tried to sleep off his desires but your voices, moans, gasps, gestures, faces—they were all fucking swarming his head. And he stared at the ceiling for hours till the clock struck twelve, indicating the end of Valentine's Day, he still saw you. 

He remembered that night was an absolute hell. He was always so close to you, and yet you were still too far to reach. He did not want to spook you. He hated this. He hated this desire towards you—but goodness, how blissful was it. 

His Valentine's night was just filled with staring and scrolling through the pictures he had taken of you while finishing almost a big bottle of whiskey by himself. Nikolai does have a strong tolerance towards alcohol, but he does have his limits. He collapsed onto his lonely bed with a picture of you on his phone screen. And his room had never felt so cold. 

February 17, was the day he decided to drive your current girlfriend away. No, he cannot let anyone touch you again. He was done suffering. Thus, after he ended his performance that night, he spent the rest of the day trying to find out about your girlfriend. It was easy—Nikolai does have a lot of experience doing this kind of cybercrime after all.

He tracked her down, like any maniac would. He forged his identity to get closer to her, pretending to be a guy who was interested in a relationship. She was a very friendly one. He found out a lot of things—she was a regular in a nightclub that is just so close to your house. 

But her reactions towards his advances made him just a little suspicious—was she really your girlfriend or just another person you hooked up with? 

If she was a cheater, then that's more horrible. 

See, darling? You can't trust these people. I'm the one you need. 

Ten days of talking and luring a woman into his trap, on February 27, he finally meets the very lady who had touched you a little too much. Nikolai introduces himself as Akaky, a name he had used for countless schemes. 

“So, you're really single?” Nikolai asks her as he pays for her drink. She nods as she sips her margarita. Nikolai tilts his head, noticing a red and yellow ring on her finger. He knows that ring. It is one of the affordable merchandise from his circus. 

You gave her that ring, darling? How sweet. I wish you would give me the same ring once we are together. 

“I like your ring,” Nikolai says again and she smiles. 

“Yeah? My girl— uhh, friend— My friend bought it.” She replies, twirling it. “It's cute but… Well, I'm being honest with you here. It looks… cheap, isn't it?” She says with a snort before she takes the ring off. 

“Well, it looks like it's made from metal, it seems. Plated with some colours.” Nikolai says. She looks at him in awe and nods slowly. She smirks, nudging his leg with her foot—a flirty gesture. 

“You know a thing or two about jewellery?” 

The ring merchandise is Erika’s idea…

“I am a collector, remember?” Nikolai says confidently. “I have collected a lot of things for ten years now, so… it’s pretty easy to figure out which is what.” He continues, receiving a small ‘Wow’ from her. She then looks at the ring before she offers it to him. 

“You can take it as a… collection.” She grins. Nikolai smiles back but he felt bittersweet about it somewhat. He knows you gave this to her—probably as a romantic gesture—because he knows you love his circus and its elements enough to collect merchandise. But seeing how easy your gift is being given away like this makes him feel a little sympathetic.

“You sure? Your friend doesn't mind?” Nikolai asks as he takes the ring. It is smaller and certainly he could not fit it in his ring finger. So he tries to slip it onto his pinky finger. A little tight, but it can still be taken off. 

Ah, this ring used to be yours. 

His heart jumps when he realizes how close you are to him now. This ring used to be in your possession… and now he is wearing it. Your touch, your fingertips, your trace—they were on this ring. And they are now on his skin.

You’re so close to me. You're too close to me, love.

His lips threatened to curl up. 

“You like it?” 

Nikolai almost forgets the lady beside him. He turns to her and then he feels a poke on his cheek. She is smiling—almost seductively. “You’re blushing,” She chuckles. “You’re really a cute guy. Do you like me that much?” 

This ring was yours. This ring was yours. This ring was yours. This ring was yours. This ring was yours. This ring was yours.

“Perhaps.” He smirks back. “You’re a tease, aren't you?” Nikolai's voice comes out just as lustrous. He props his head on his hand as he scans her up and down. The lady’s hand touches more of his face, caressing and tugging his cheek. 

“You wanna touch more of me?” He asks and her eyes glimmer in excitement. Nikolai leans closer, bringing his hand to her thigh as he gently caresses her skin. “I know a place.” He whispers. She chuckles before she clung her arms around his neck. Nikolai placed his hand on her waist, pulling her close. 

“You wanna go?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good. I’ll make sure you're screaming tonight.” 

— ♤

Guilt is slowly planting its seed. 

Nikolai glances at the bed. She is lying down on it, only in her underwear. Her mouth is covered with a napkin but her body is lifeless. A knife is plunged into her chest and blood is painting the whole sheet flamboyant red. 

He sighs before he sits on the bed, just beside the corpse. He does not mind the mess. This is his campervan anyway. He drove the van out from his circus, as he did not want to bring his newest victim to his place of work. 

Lighting up a cigarette, Nikolai takes a long inhale of it. His body is covered with a sheen layer of sweat and splatters of blood. He is still in his briefs, as they were just making out until he unleashed a knife and stabbed her in the chest. 

She screamed out loud before he muffled her mouth with her top, subduing the noise. Her fingers clawed at him as he twisted the knife deeper and wilder in her flesh until she slowly stopped moving. 

Nikolai stares at the dead body, already desensitised to this kind of sight. But still, a sense of guilt is already growing in his heart— because he murdered again. 

Nikolai reaches for her handbag, seeking any things that could be useful for him. He opens her purse, takes her cash and throws it onto his working desk. He then takes her phone only to find it locked with a fingerprint ID. So Nikolai holds her thumb on the sensor, unlocking the device. 

He immediately sees several messages from you from the notification board. His heart beats fast, just seeing your name. He clicks on the app, and immediately, he sees you are already online and typing. 

mine xxx [11:23 p.m.] : [7 missed calls] 

mine xxx [11:24 p.m.] : Mia, please answer my call

mine xxx [2:12 a.m.] : I don't know why you're ghosting me like this. Please, let's just talk. 

mine xxx [2:13 a.m.] : Did I do something wrong? 

mine xxx [2:13 a.m.] : I’m sorry if I do anything hurtful to you. I still love you. I promise.

Nikolai frowns. He does not want to come to a conclusion early. But this seems not right. So he looks to other contacts, seeing Mia’s—this woman he killed—interactions with others. 

Me [8:17 p.m.] : I already did the dare, didnt i? Gimme a break now

Jake [8:18 p.m.] : Nooo you need to keep it until the end of February!! 

olivia <3 [8:18 p.m.] : thats what u get loser bitch xx

Me [8:19 p.m.] : Stfu 

olivia <3 [8:19 p.m.] : aww don't be mad bae. are u comin' tonight? i can pick u up

Jake [8:20 p.m.] : Please bring your girlfriend too :p

Me [8:20 p.m.] : Not coming! I have a new date tonight xx

olivia <3 [8:20 p.m.] : u cheatin on ur girl???

Me [8:21 p.m.] : Sorta. Its not really cheating if I dont fuck him right?

olivia <3 [8:21 p.m.] : what if ur gf knows? 

Me [8:22 p.m.] : She wont. Besides, shes not really my girlfriend, isnt she?

Me [8:22 p.m.] : Its fine, i’ll break up with her later

Jake [8:22 p.m.] : You should send her to us or something 

olivia <3 [8:23 p.m.] : are we passing girls rn? 

Jake [8:23 p.m.] : Nah. I just need to get my dick wet sometimes

olivia <3 [8:23 p.m.] : 3some?

Jake [8:23 p.m.] : Only if Mia’s girl want

Me [8:24 p.m.] : Stfu horny sickos. She will be yours after i break up with her alright

Me [8:24 p.m.] : I need to get ready. Bye <3

Nikolai sighs. As he expected, this relationship of yours was just another one-sided game. He deletes the messages and leaves the group chat out of spite. It kind of hurts him to see your name is being brought up for bad reasons. He wonders if these failed relationships you are having would have a longer effect on you. 

What if you start to expect the worst whenever you catch feelings? What if you would rather be alone, yearning for a good relationship, instead of trying to pursue one? What if you feel more insecure? 

Nikolai feels bad for you. 

Bad relationships surely would force your brain to work differently. An emotion is not being satisfied. As much as he is aware of how bad of a person he is, he wants to create a healthy relationship with you.

He already planned for it—Nikolai would approach you as a ringmaster and indulge your interests in the circus. After all, he loves it when you are flaunting over something that makes you happy and cheerful. The fact that his circus is one of the reasons for that just makes his affection towards you grow deeper. 

And then, after you and him get to know each other normally, maybe he could take you out for dinner and spoil you rotten. You deserve to be treated like a princess after all. 

Nikolai does not plan to tell you about his stalking activity. He does not think he will. Besides, it is not like you are noticing him or anything! You just know him as Gogol and he has all the chance in the world to go through that peaceful route. It is fine if he stays silent about his not-so-good side—you don't have to know!

Nikolai clicks on your contact again, seeing that you are still online. The call button right beside your profile picture is alluring. His thumb hovers over the icon. His heart is beating faster and his chest is heaving up and down. His cock is hardening as he stares at your profile. 

He presses it. 

His hand is shaky as he brings the phone to his ear. His other hand is palming his boner as he hears the dial. He hears a click and finally—fucking finally—he hears your voice. 

“M-Mia! Oh thank God..” 

Nikolai throws his head back as his hand is slipping inside his briefs, taking out his hard cock. Precum is leaking on his tip as he strokes his girth slowly upon hearing your voice. 

You’re talking to me. You're talking to me.. You're talking to me..! 

“Mia, listen..! I’m really sorry if I hurt you or anything, okay? I really am. I don't know why you're ghosting me—” 

A sniffle. 

Nikolai realizes you are probably crying. Ahh, how glad he is to have killed the very person who made your tears drop. He bites his lips, trying to not make a sound as his hand is fisting his cock faster. 

“Sorry.. It's just… Sorry, I’m just… confused… Why do you i-ignore me like that? I am worried. I love you so much—” 

“Haa— F-Fuck…” 

“Who's that?”

Nikolai scrunches his face, biting his lips harder as he realizes he fucked up. That short love confession makes his arousal heighten so much. He is leaking onto his palm, the squelching noise becoming louder as he jerks himself faster. 

“W-What’s that noise? Are you with someone else now? W-Who's this..?”

Nikolai accidentally lets out a small whimper upon hearing your voice again. His hand is gripping the phone tightly, just as tight as how he is jerking his cock right now. His mind wanders—imagining a near future where you are the one lying on this bed, with you between his thighs and your lips around his girth. 

His brain replays that scene where you were fucked by Mia in your house. The way your voice gets louder when she put four fingers inside—Nikolai could not quite see it but he swears he did see a glimpse of your pussy. 

He could only imagine what face would you make when you squirm under him as he tries to fit his big cock into your pussy—you must feel so so so fucking warm and tight. He could see the way your nails are buried on his back and his arms as his hand fondles your pretty tits. Do you have sensitive nipples? Would you whine louder if he sucked on them? Would you caress his head as he marks your mounds? Do you allow him to sleep on them? 

Nikolai moans again as his hips buckle slightly. He says your name in a broken groan as he spills onto his stomach and hand. He looks at his stomach and then the phone, seeing that you have ended the call about two minutes ago. Your picture and basic profile on the chat are also gone, indicating just one thing. 

You blocked her. 

He hastily grabs the tissue from his desk and wipes his cum off his body and hand. Nikolai grumbles to himself as his high is slowly decreasing. 

“Shit.” 

Nikolai realizes he just jerks off beside a fresh corpse. He does not feel creeped out about it but he wishes the ghost of Mia the cheating cheater would not hunt him tonight. 

Nikolai knows he needs to dispose of her and the bed as soon as possible. The blood is already seeping into the mattress and he does not want the trouble to clean them up. He already has a spot in mind to go to hide the evidence—this is not the first time he committed atrocities and truth be told, he does like this challenging side of cleaning up after a murder. 

As he fixes his briefs, he looks at Mia again. Her eyes are still wide. Her body has gone cold and her face is getting paler. He scoots closer and reaches to her eyelids to close them. Nikolai looks at the dead body again and his eyes are fixated on her hand. 

He touches her hand, letting his fingertips trace her cold fingers. He holds it up, staring at her fingers. 

These fingers were once inside you. 

These fingers once touched you. 

His breathing is rapid again as the memory lingers in the back of his mind. Jealousy is burning, igniting a strange desire. Slowly, Nikolai pries open his lips and engulfs her fingers in his mouth, sucking them. 

These were inside you. 

I am touching you. 

—  ♤

Guilt is growing bigger in his heart. 

Nikolai does not know what he expects when he finds you in such a miserable position. 

You are curled up on your bed and your face has traces of dried tears. He is careful enough to tiptoe around your bed while holding a gift box in his arm. Nikolai notices a bottle of pills right on the small table beside your bed. He examines it, only to find out that they are melatonin pills. 

Oh, my dear… 

He puts the bottle back and then he notices the small trash can beside the table. It is full of tissues, but he notices one tiny thing that sparkles out due to its colour. 

It's the ring. 

He purses his lips. You must have thrown it away after whatever assumption you made. He feels slightly hurt as he is wearing the same ring on his pinky right now. How he wishes you would keep it, so he can keep deluding himself into the idea of you two wearing the same ring because you two are connected by fate. 

Nikolai takes the ring from the trash can and with slow steps, he makes his way to the kitchen. The layout of your house is engraved in his head already. You are a worker during the day while he is a worker at night. He can easily get into your house during the day while you are away. 

He washes the ring at the sink and uses the hand soap to make sure it is cleaner. He walks back to the room and Nikolai gets down on one knee right beside you by the bed. 

Will I really do this? 

Nikolai does not want to spook you or scare you. He really doesn't. He wishes to develop his relationship with you healthily and in a good way. Truth is, he does not want you to notice him stalking you around the house. 

If he makes his existence as your stalker evident, you will be scared and you might not trust him and you might be paranoid about being in a relationship with him and you might hate him. 

But she loves getting scared, doesn't she? That's why she comes to the circus so often. —his heart entices. 

No. She already had a bad relationship. I want a normal relationship with her… —his head reasons. 

Nikolai is stumped. 

Normal? Normality? Is this really what he wants to achieve? He does not want that. He does not want to be humane—he has lived all these years to be insane. He wants to lose sight of himself and he never plans to stray away from that big goal. 

And besides, besides! Why do I have to listen to you, dear head? You are trying to restrict me to a set of morality. Why, oh why, should I listen to you when you are the very thing that has been brainwashed since the day I was aware of this world? I don't need to hear you. I don't need you to reason with me. Just and unjust can scram to Hell. I will drag you to my chaos as well. 

Nikolai gently holds your hand. He is shivering—excitement, lust, devotion, passion—he feels everything at once. Your skin feels so much better. You are so soft, so fragile, such a darling. 

He slips the circus ring on your ring finger. It fits perfectly. And this mere gesture only sends Nikolai into a frenzied state for a few seconds. 

It feels like a marriage! Like we are connected and entangled with each other so closely..! I can already see us! I see us, my little dove..! 

Nikolai is in Heaven—a complete mania. This is the greatest Valentine's Day ever! He even forgets what day it is—but all he knows is that this is truly a fateful day for you two. 

He reaches your face, slowly touching your strands of hair. You are sleeping too deeply and he thanked the pills for that. Now he does not feel that guilty for what happened yesterday. All those events lead to this historical moment. You will smile again—he will make sure of it. Besides, he can tell Erika to make a ticket giveaway for his circus. He will make sure you get it. And then you can come to his circus and watch him perform. Perhaps your smile will emerge again from his acts. Then he can finally approach you and coax you into a relationship! 

Right, right, this is all in his favour! Oh, how he loves this life, now that you exist as his ethos. 

Nikolai smiles to himself as he pulls the gift box closer to his legs. He is supposed to leave this gift in your mailbox, but he decides not to. Oh, nothing much. It is just some cut-off Mia’s fingers. But he decides that he will take his spooky act slowly. Not now, not now. He will give you more luxury when the time is right. 

“Perhaps I should leave…” He mumbles, realizing that he might have been in your house for quite a while now. He stands up but he stops when he hears you stirring in your sleep, making a small noise. As he smiles, expecting a cute face from you, all he sees is just a painful expression. 

An arrow shoots straight into his heart. 

Nikolai just remembers that you most likely cried yourself to sleep, based on the dried tears on your face. You must have dealt with insomnia for the past few nights because of Mia ghosting you. And he knows you won't get a proper closure for this relationship, as Mia is no longer here in this world. 

He feels bad.

Nikolai contemplates his decision. He wants to stay longer. He doesn't mind sitting on the floor, in the dark, starved or thirsty, as long as he can watch you sleep. But, Erika has already warned him to come to the meeting at nine in the morning. 

He does not even sleep yet. 

Pursing his lips, Nikolai looks at you again. After ten complete seconds of thinking, he sits back on the floor right beside your bed. He sees your body is jerking a few times and your forehead is frowning—nightmares? He hopes not. 

Nikolai bravely moves his hand up, finally holding your hand just loosely nice. This is the closest he has ever gotten to you. He sees how your hand and his are both showing the same rings. He already loves this day—this moment. He feels at peace, somewhat, despite the cacophony of love in his heart. And if this is how the rest of his Valentine's Day is going to be, he will gladly stay.

He promises your next Valentine's Day will be the greatest ever. After all, you are already his.

©cherikolya 2024 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated

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OKAY SOOO- UH- THIS IS MY NEWEST ART?? NOT THE BEST ANDDD NOT THE WORST! Also! This is my first post here(no shit). (I'm here because of my friend @s0m3b0dy-u-kn0w. This demon.)

ANYWAY! I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT ELSE TO SAY 😽

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.

©cherikolya 2024 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

Reposting some of my old drawings [ last part ]

OMG

it’s Shadow Milk Gogol 💦

Movie poster inspired by The Substance movie.

Tiktok is getting banned, so I need to post here again >_<. pfps or something idk

𝑬𝑹𝑶𝑺 — a passionate physical and emotional love; stereotype of romantic love

RECEIVERS。dad!nikolai gogol x mama fem!reader

WISHCARD。“I want to marry her. Yes, yes, I do. Listen, Yurochka. I need to propose first. So, it's gonna be on Valentine's Day! I know, I know. I could have picked another day but like. . . Valentine's Day feels romantic, doesn't it?”

BOUQUET。fluff, oc kid (yuri/yurochka), suggestive, unhealthy thoughts

PRICE。approx. 3.6k

FREEGIFT。say yes to heaven (lana del rey)

MAIN MENU。FOUR SHADES OF PINK

“Are you sure?”

Nikolai looks up. Currently, you are getting your makeup done. You are in a simple yellow dress. Your hair is styled very nicely with some ribbons and white clips. If Nikolai would describe your look today, it would be the equivalent of an angel. It is fun to just sit on the bed, watching you get ready for your day today.

It has been a year since your first childbirth. You gave birth to a baby boy, whom Nikolai named as Yuri. Nikolai remembers the first moment he carried the baby in his arms, he lost all his thoughts. And when the nurse asked what the baby's name would be, the only thing that popped up in his head was one of the most common names in his town—Yuri.

Truth be told, Nikolai still feels strange about this. He does love his son, he knows. But he finds it hard to actually bond with him, as his old conscience is always hard to get rid of. Voices—sometimes reminding him of his past and his desire to be 'free'. There were times when his intrusive thoughts were telling him to hurt the boy, all to prove to himself that he was not bound to some kind of brainwashing.

But he loves the boy. Nikolai loves his son. He loves you more, of course, knowing you wagered yourself to give another a life. He tries his best to be there for both of you. The first two weeks after childbirth were hard. Your mood swings were horrible. Nikolai did not really mind though. He lost hours of his sleep but it was fine once again when he finally got to embrace you once the night fell.

“Kolya?” your sweet voice shakes him out of his train to the past. Nikolai looks at you. “Are you okay? If you prefer, I can send Yuri to my mom. She can watch over him for a while.”

Nikolai bites his inside cheek. He knows you mean well. You are one of those people who truly sees him for who he is. He knows you are aware of his inner chaos. Attachment is something Nikolai has tried to avoid for many years.

Most of the time, Yuri prefers his mama and honestly, Nikolai would not blame him for preferring his mom over him. After all, he will admit that he is a bit distant from Yuri—mainly because he feels like fatherhood is quite an intimidating space for him, considering his own issues in his head and heart.

Nikolai thinks you notice it too. Whenever he shows a bit of discomfort when Yuri wants some uppies, you would swiftly take the role and carry Yuri up. Whenever it is just the two of them on the couch, Yuri would look around, seeking his mother.

Nikolai is still mentally preparing to be a proper father. He tries. But anxiety bothers him sometimes.

“No. . . No, it's okay. I can take care of him today. You don't have to worry about anything, love.” Nikolai replies before he stands up and approaches you. He wraps his arm around your waist, his gaze leers onto you. “You're so gorgeous, little dove.”

You smile, holding his face before you tug him down a bit to give a kiss on his cheek.

A red lips stain his skin.

“Ah— whoops!” you giggle but you do not rub it off. Nikolai looks at the mirror, seeing his cheek that has a kiss mark from you. He snickers.

“I look sexy,” he remarks before he turns to you again. “You look sexy too,” he says softly as his hands squeeze your hips, trailing down to touch your butt. You huff at his playful grin. Some parts of your body have grown in size after your pregnancy—breasts, ahem—and Nikolai does have the time of his life, freely touching you whenever you least expect it.

“Don't do that,” you whine, hitting his chest playfully but making no attempt to push his hand away from rubbing your body. “You're a massive pervert,” you pout. Nikolai cackles.

“Darling, one of your weird ass cravings was literally to grope my ass. I don't think you have the right to call me that,” he teases.

“Well, t-that's excusable!” you tap his cheek. “Now, let go of me, big boy. I need to finish my eyeshadows.”

Nikolai giggles and obeys anyway. He instead hugs you from behind, kissing your neck as you continue to pat down the brush on your eyelid. Nikolai is always a clingy one, and his hands are always finding their way to sensitive spots you do not even know you have on your body.

But his peppering kisses on your neck feel a little strange. It is quicker. Usually, he likes taking his time kissing your skin.

“Kolya?” you call.

“Hm?”

“Are you nervous?”

A few seconds of silence.

“Just a little.”

You know Nikolai is still having a little of an issue within himself when it comes to family relationships. He tries to bond with Yuri, like any good father would do. But perhaps because he lacks one, he is having a hard time to actually bond with the boy. Sure, he does change the diapers, bathe him or cook for him, but affectionate gestures are very rare.

Nikolai is a very unique man. His way of thinking is absurd and yet mature enough to question oneself. For the past several years, he has been too fixated on trying to reach his goal and live within his ideal. But now, he has to abandon it once again for someone who is his blood and flesh.

You did reassure him. You do know how he is. The way he reacted to the news of pregnancy was exactly how you expected. Lost, confused, angry, anxious — those emotions are obvious when you have spent enough time staring into his eyes.

In fact, you are fully prepared to be a single mother.

But Nikolai's love towards you goes far beyond at this point. He cherishes you so much that he willingly—albeit scared—takes your hand and walks along with you on this small journey of his life.

“Fear nothing, my dear, I'll hold you forever.”—that's your promise to him and he still holds to it. And you plan to never break it.

You turn around, once again holding his face. “I see your effort, Kolya. I see you. And you have done so well so far, alright? Trust me.”

“He probably doesn't even think that I'm his dad,” he replies slowly, referring to Yuri. You smile softly.

“Bonding takes time. We have all the time in the world to build this up,” you say, assuring him. Nikolai pouts as he fiddles with the fabric of your dress. He is surely a grown adult but his behaviour turns into a manchild when he is near you.

“You know what, how about a small mission, hm? A little game for you and Yuri. Maybe by the time I come home, we can have a small progress?” you suggest. Nikolai's eyes glimmer when he hears the word 'game'.

“What game?” he asks.

“Hmm. . . Well, I guess you could try to get him to colour his fruit colouring book. Perhaps teach him a word or two.” you say as your hands are busy to stuff your belongings in your purse.

“Can that kid even hold a crayon?” Nikolai mumbles.

“That's for you to deal with.” you grin. “How about chocolates for your reward? It's almost Valentine's Day, no? Gotta give chocolates to my boyfriend.”

Nikolai pouts. “Don't say that,”

“What?”

“Don't call me a boyfriend. It feels like we are high schoolers.”

Right. . . You two are not married. You both live together, with a child. Nikolai never proposes you to be a fiancée or anything. At least not yet. Nikolai is so good at masking his feelings, but you know he is serious with this relationship—else, he would not be here, one year later, after contemplating leaving you at the beginning of your first pregnancy.

You smile, patting his cheek again with a cheerful smile. “Okay, okay. I'll get some chocolates to give my man a reward, how about it?”

“Hmm, slightly better.” Nikolai tilts his head, kissing your wrist. “I'm already planning our Valentines, so you can leave it up to me!” he pats his chest proudly. You cackle, nodding in approval.

“Well, I better go now. I'll get home before ten,” you say and reach for your car key on the makeup table. Nikolai bids farewell to you with a playful slap on your ass.

And for the rest of the day, he is left with his son.

It is only four hours after you leave the house, and Nikolai is already feeling awkward when he sits with Yuri on the couch. He fed the boy with simple home-cooked borscht and changed his diaper. Yuri is looking at him and then he looks around as if he is searching for his mama.

“Mama's out to have fun without us, Yurochka,” Nikolai says. He doesn't really take it to heart about Yuri's preference towards you.

Yuri blinks confusedly at Nikolai. With his small finger, he points at the man. “'K-Kawoi?” he attempts to say. Nikolai almost bursts out laughing at Yuri's attempt to say his name.

“No 'Kawoi'. It's 'Nikolai'. Ni. . . Ko. . . Lai. . . Nikolai!”

“Nnn. . . Ni— Kaw. . . wol,”

“Did you say 'Karol'? Can you even speak properly?”

“Mam. . . Mama,”

Nikolai only lets Yuri attempt to speak. Yuri never really calls him 'Dad' or 'Papa' or even tries to do so. He does not mind that much.

There is a small desire in him to make fun of his pronunciation but this boy is literally not older than two years old. But hey, Nikolai does not really care about morals anyway.

“You're still a dumbass, but it's okay! Once you grow up, you're gonna be as smart as me, okay?” Nikolai grins before he takes the fruit colouring book and a box of crayons. He sits on the floor and he carefully carries Yuri so he can sit beside him.

“Now, how to be smart, Yurochka? We need to learn. And because your mama promised me a reward, I'm making you work for me, yeah?” Nikolai says as he opens the book and gives Yurochka a red crayon, so he can start colouring the apple illustration on the first page.

As Yuri is colouring—or more like, scrabbling lines—on the illustration, Nikolai tries to get him to say the word too. Surprisingly, Yuri is such a quick learner and his pronunciation is not so far off. But it leaves Nikolai with little interaction to go with Yuri since he does not really know what to do after he gets him to learn the words and 'colour' the things.

Yuri already tosses the crayon after he is done colouring his fifth drawing. He doesn't seem to want to do it again, probably finding it to be boring. Instead, he starts to draw two stickmen on the blank page of the book. Nikolai just silently watches him—he is more focused on what to do with this father-son bonding.

Nikolai sighs and shuts his eyes. He rests his head against the couch, contemplating his life once again. He already misses you and he wishes you are here to give encouragement for him to actually bond with Yuri. He usually likes to have fun with kids—playing with them, teasing them, mocking them. But it is a whole different issue when it is his own flesh and blood—his son.

Is this really what he wanted? To have a family of his own? To be attached so tightly again?

He needs to hold you now. He knows he can feel blissfully liberated when you keep him in your embrace. And he needs it now. His mind is starting to doubt again and he is scared.

A tug on his shirt makes Nikolai open his eyes. He turns to his side, seeing Yuri looking at him with those eyes almost resembling his own. The little boy grabs the paper he has been drawing on and shoves it against Nikolai.

“What is it, Yurochka?” Nikolai gives him a small instant smile before he takes the paper and looks at it properly. Two stickmen. One has a skirt, with hair similar to yours and another has longer grey hair with two different coloured eyes.

“Aww, you draw us?” Nikolai coos.

“Mama,” Yuri points to a stickman.

“Mmm... ugly.”

Yuri points to the second stickman and then looks at Nikolai. He then pokes Nikolai's cheek before he points back to the stickman.

“Papa.”

Nikolai's eyes widen, genuinely surprised that Yuri says that. He laughs nervously. “You're a smart kid, aren't you?” he says to the boy. Nikolai caresses Yuri's head gently, staring at the drawing.

“Let's take this away. I'm bored already,” Nikolai pushes the colouring book and carries Yuri to sit on his lap. “Wanna watch some horror?” he asks the boy as he takes the remote control and changes the channel on the television.

Valentine's Day is approaching in less than a week and the advertisements are full of Valentine's promotions. He pats Yuri as he changes the channel to a cartoon.

“Valentine's is near, Yurochka. You know what it means?” he asks the boy, only to receive no response. Nikolai does not mind. He likes talking to Yuri as if he is writing a diary. The boy is a quiet one. And it is not like he understands a word Nikolai is saying anyway.

“That means you're gonna stay with grandma for a while, boy. Yeah, you're gonna be an orphan for a few days—I'm kidding! It's just Mama and I are going to go on a fancy date, so you're gonna stay behind because adults do adult things and babies do baby things.” Nikolai says as he plays with Yuri's cheek.

“Wanna know what I plan for the date?” Nikolai asks. “Yeah? No?” he nods at Yuri, trying to make the boy respond. Yuri looks at his dad and nods eagerly, only mimicking Nikolai's movement.

“Good, good. Well, I've booked this one expensive place for us to have dinner at. Yes, very expensive! It's a fancy restaurant. You know Yurochka? You can get a lot of money from doing various things, you know? I'll teach you someday. You're my son so you're gonna follow my footsteps. Not all footsteps but some steps. Like. . . identity theft. . . Ha! Kidding! I bet you're excited now for what your absolute chaos of a father did, huh?”

Yuri blinks confused.

“Anyway, I'm really trying to go above and beyond for this year's Valentine. Do you wanna know what I actually planned, Yurochka? Yeah? Yeah?” Nikolai nods and Yuri repeats his gesture again.

“I want to propose.”

Nikolai grins, already happy when he thinks about your reaction when he whips out the rings he already bought and picked. He already feels excited to ask you to marry him, to be his forever.

“I want to marry her. Yes, yes, I do. Listen, Yurochka. I need to propose first. So, it's gonna be on Valentine's Day! I know, I know. I could have picked another day but like. . . Valentine's Day feels romantic, doesn't it? I think your mama won't expect it either. But I do feel like there should be something else I could do to make it more special. . .” Nikolai says. Yuri's arms move up and down. He makes incoherent noises before he tugs on Nikolai's shirt, pulling and pulling the fabric.

“. . . You're right. You're right, Yurochka! You're so smart!”

Yuri makes a happy noise. Nikolai embraces his son and stands up from the floor.

“You should pick my suit and fashion for that day. Yeah! Come, Yurochka. Daddy's gonna teach you how to be handsome!”

― ♡

You arrive at home later than you expected.

It is already 11PM. When you open the door, the living room is dark and the only source of light comes from the kitchen. You walk towards it and see Nikolai resting his head on the kitchen bar. A bottle of red wine and two glasses are by his head. One glass is half-filled with wine. His eyes are closed. He looks like he has fallen asleep while waiting for you to come home.

You sit right beside him and your hand reaches out to brush his hair. He hums before his eyes slowly pry open and a smile crooks on his lips.

“I'm home,” you say.

“Did you have fun, sweetheart?” he asks. His voice is lazy and deep. He is mellow, slightly tipsy it seems. He stares at you before he finally sits straight.

“You don't seem really tired,” you say before you pour yourself a glass of wine. “Yuri's been nice?”

“He is always nice. Quiet boy.” Nikolai replies before he finishes his own glass of wine. His eyes glance at you up and down. He tilts his head with a small smirk. “Where's my reward?”

“The chocolates? That's for Valentine's,” you chuckle as you tickle his chin. “You're gonna love it.”

Nikolai grins at your ticklish touch as he pours his wine. He takes a long sip. “You're gonna make it from scratch or something?”

You almost purse your lips—that's exactly what you planned. You do plan to make homemade chocolates for him. Not store-bought. It is supposed to be a surprise and of course, Nikolai nonchalantly guessed right. You try to control your expression and shake your head.

“Mmm, that's a surprise.”

Nikolai's small grin is enough message for you that he would not press any further. He must have expected surprises for Valentine. You will try to make creative or ridiculous-shaped chocolates then if he is so smart to figure out your surprise.

“So, everything's fine today? Did Yuri learn a new word?”

“He called me 'Papa'.”

You gasp happily, clasping his hands, almost shaking them too. You fidget excitedly. “That's good news! Oh Goodness! What else, what else?”

Nikolai cackles, gripping your hands back. “He tried to say my name. And he drew us too. Stickmen us. I already pasted it on the fridge. And no, I won't let you take it down for the next ten years so he can look back at his first art. He's quiet now but I bet he has a funnier face when I shove that drawing to his face.” Nikolai says with a playful smile.

And you smile too, mainly because he is already imagining the future for years to come—a future where his son is all grown up and you are still with him, living together in this apartment.

Your hands reach up to hold his face. Nikolai's eyes widen a bit when you scoot closer, your thumbs rubbing his skin. And crimson slowly creeps to his face, giving a tint of blush on his cheeks.

“I'm happy for you.”

Nikolai stares at you. He holds back your hands, pressing them harder on his face. His gaze lowers, forecasting a shadow of unsureness.

He's doubting again.

His hold on your hands becomes tighter and tighter, it almost hurts. But you let him anyway. After all, you did promise to hold him forever. He takes a deep breath, shutting his eyes as he brings his lips to kiss your palm.

You let him calm himself down. Nikolai doubts himself a lot when he starts to think deeply about his attachments—which is something he always tries to be against. He has done horrible, horrible things, just to feel an ounce of freedom. His guilt and empathy are always gutting him inside, and he can only suppress the extreme thoughts that tend to barge into his head.

“Nikolai?” he looks at you. His irises quiver. You give him a soft smile, as gentle as possible, in hope of soothing the voices in his head.

“You don't have to fear anything, okay? I am always with you and we will go through everything together. I lo—”

“Marry me.”

You freeze. And Nikolai too.

He never proposes or ever mentions marriage or engagement in your relationship, despite how many years has it been. And you certainly least expect it from him.

Nikolai looks like he is lost. He does not expect himself to say it either—right at this moment out of any other.

“I . . . I-I mean—”

“Yes,” you jump from your seat, hugging him. And his arms embrace you instantly, with his face buried in the crook of your neck. “Y-Yes, Nikolai.”

“Marry me, love.”

“Yes. . . !”

You do not even realise that you are starting to sob, and Nikolai is sensitive when you let a single tear drop. He gently pulls you to hold your face, and you try to control your little happy cry. You both locked eyes with each other and a small laughter erupts from your lips.

“I'm so happy. . .”

Nikolai could not quite pinpoint it, but he feels happier when you say that. He is at a loss for words. He does not think of any joke that could make this any better or any more words that could prolong this moment.

The words came out too naturally from his mouth. He is already imagining life with you, and before he knows it, he has already proposed to you. And even if it is a small 'mistake' of an accident because of his distraught mind,

Nikolai does not regret it one bit.

He calls for your name, and it sounds heavenly, coming out from his lips. His hand gently holds the back of your head before he pulls you closer and closer. Until his and your lips are connected and hands holding each other ever so intimately.

He can think of his surprise for Valentine's Day. But for now, he is content enough.

Just in a home, shared by two hearts.

Starting this account fresh with him.