Can You Draw Shadow Milk Showing Support For Y/n For Exam Days Pls ☹️🤍 We Just Need Some Fluff

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

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

long time no nikolai..

hmmmm..

⋆₊ ♱ perv!ghost!nikolai

spooktober 2024 masterlist | divider creds adornedwithlight

ཐི ♱₊ཋྀ pairing: ghost!nikolai x fem!reader

ཐི ♱₊ཋྀ genre: smut headcanons; 18+ only!!

ཐི ♱₊ཋ content warnings: shameless smut/nsfw, mentions of size kink, alcohol + drug use, lowk dubcon, slight angst at end, nikolai’s pov（＾ω＾）

ཐི ♱₊ཋ notes: experimenting with something new lmk if u guys like it or not 😔 kicking off spooktober as an apology for delays; babusya = ukrainian grandma

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who haunts an old apartment near a local circus; who still retains his maniacal trouble maker personality as a ghost

he settled on the apartment after an old babusya let him in and allowed him to stay there, offering his favorite piroshki in exchange for protection from other spirits. he messes with her, but doesn’t do anything too harmful—just some silly pranks

who gets bored after babusya passes away and new tenants move in

he’s really done everything he can to scare the shit out of all the tenants, but they keep coming and leaving—some even having the audacity to try exorcising him (it didn’t work)

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who has an insatiable urge to kill until he sees you, a sweet heartbroken girl, come to the apartment your ex was supposed to live with you in

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who decides to have some fun with you—he hasn’t seen anyone close to his age yet, and no one as pretty and cute as you

he starts small—moving things around, making noise + randomly braiding your hair at night, stealing things from your bags, switching lights on and off, etc.

he gets pissed when you take no notice, only drinking and crying over your stupid, ugly ex—seriously, nikolai saw the pictures of them and thought you could do way better

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who can’t look away from you while you undress before showering, admiring your perfect ass and tits and the soft curves of your body

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who switches your medications/supplements with aphrodisiac pills and waits until you take them while drunk, telling himself he just wants to see a reaction from you, but he has ulterior motives

he watches intensely as you suddenly feel hot and slip your fingers in your bra and panties, touching yourself in a lust-consumed frenzy

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who can’t stop himself from watching you whimper helplessly since the sensations aren’t enough—of course he has to help his little dove out by materializing both hands

he uses one to rub circles around your pretty clit and puts the other one in your mouth, training your throat for his big cock

you're too lost in the drug-fueled lust to pay any mind to the fact his hands appeared out of nowhere—you probably think it's just a sex dream

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who loves how you choke on his fingers, tears of pleasure streaming down your heated face as he inserts his long fingers in your wet pussy, watching your eyes roll back in pleasure as he hits the spots inside that you can’t reach without toys

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who savors the taste of your sweet release on his fingertips before replacing the fingers in your mouth with his cock, pushing it in with little warning

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who gets so fucking turned on by the way you adjust to his size and take him so well, using your hands to pump the length you can’t fit in your mouth

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who rewards his good little girl with his cum, shooting it down into your throat as you swallow every last drop and lick him clean, still aroused

deciding to help you out, he materializes fully and lines his tip up with your entrance, panting because he’s so close to being inside you, his latest obsession

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who pushes himself in your warm cunt, inch by inch, admiring your fucked-out glossy eyes and the arousal stuck on your thighs

he smirks when you suddenly get shy and cover your face, flustered by how attractive he is and how much pressure he’s causing in your insides

who whispers sweet nothings as you whimper from the uncomfortable stretch and assures you that you can take it all, licking the pricking tears from your eyes

he moves your hands away from your face and drags them across his abs and long white braid, occasionally peppering your body with kisses, and braiding stray strands of hair to calm you down while you adjust to his size—he can tell how full you are from the big bulge in your stomach

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who starts moving once you give him a cute nod, moving deep and slow at first until you're more used to his size

he litters kisses around your chest, kitten licking your swollen nipples which he knows are sensitive

he loves the way you slightly buck your hips up to meet his thrusts, occasionally pressing against your stomach and groaning when he can feel himself inside of you

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 breathes heavily against your smooth skin, his large hands around your waist to keep your squirming frame in place

who burrows himself into your neck as his strokes get slower, who tells you to say his name as you chase your own orgasm

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who cums when a soft i love you, nikolai rolls off your tongue, as you mess up his once neat white braid

he collapses gently on top of you--he doesn't remember the last time someone's addressed him so adoringly

he listens intently to your heartbeat, reminding him that you’re alive and he’s dead; his cold figure hugging your warm body

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who strokes your hair and rambles about nothing until you fall asleep, telling himself he's just using you for entertainment, despite the tightness in his chest

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 who disappears in the morning but still watches you intently, waiting for another lonely night where he can touch you

TRASH SUGAR MAGIC

➛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 11: ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴜʀ ʙᴀʙʏ

➛ nikolai gogol x fem!reader

➛ fluff, slow burn, mild smut, dubcon, explicit content, slice of wink wink | words: 10.1k

➛ ao3 | spotify (note: dinner @ brasserie zédel is recommended) | main menu

“I feel cold…”

Nikolai sighs as soon as you say that once he gets back inside the car after filling up the gas. “I told you not to just wear a cardigan.” He replies before he starts the engine again. You pout, hugging your body as your fingertips caress the soft fabric of your white cardigan. 

“Yeah… But it looks sunny and I thought it wouldn’t be as cold.” You say. Nikolai only glances at you, giving you a frown. 

“In what world do you think the weather will stay warmer for a degree during a snowy winter?” He only watches you increase the temperature of the heater as he starts driving again, leaving the petrol station. You are clearly restless because it does not get any much warmer, considering that his car is barely decent in condition. In an attempt to preserve your heat, you try to pull the sleeves of your cardigan to at least cover your hands. 

“Hold on, darling. We’re almost there. Jeez, can’t even handle a bit of cold, huh?” Nikolai says, his tone is slightly mocking. You only pout and shake your head. 

“Maybe your car is too old to get the heater functioning.”

“Hey, don’t say that.” Now Nikolai is the one who pouts. You once again reach out to fiddle with the buttons in the car but you retract when Nikolai slaps your hand away, lightly. “Stop.” He says and you huff, leaning back with your arms crossed. 

It takes about several minutes until both of you arrive at Olga’s diner. The parking lot is empty and the sign is still showing that it is ‘CLOSED’. It is not even noon yet, so you figure that you two are here for important business rather than a lunch date—not that it is still impossible. 

“Come on.” Nikolai leaves the car and you follow after. You wheeze as soon as the harsh cold breeze hits your face. Hugging yourself tightly to keep warm, you jog your way to Nikolai, bumping into his body. His hands immediately reach to hold your shoulders. “Goodness…” He sighs. 

“I’m so cold!” You whine as you push yourself closer to his body and his arms instinctively wrap around you. 

“Well, it’s not my fault that you didn’t take my advice earlier!” He grumbles before he deliberately takes off his winter jacket and hovers it over your body. “Arms.” He commands and you obediently put your arms into the sleeves. It is heavy and big on you—disproportionate but warm. 

“What about you?” You ask, eyeing the beige sweater he is wearing. It does not look like it can provide better heat for this weather but Nikolai does not even seem to be affected by it—or at least he pretends so as his nose twitches a couple times. 

“I’m fine,” He says. “Let’s go.” He walks off first and you follow after. Before Nikolai could stuff his hands into his jeans’ pockets, you quickly grab one of them, wrapping your fingers around it. Nikolai only glances, but he does not pull away—instead, he holds your hand back, just as tight as how you are holding his. 

It feels warmer. 

When you two step in, Olga is already waiting at the bar, with Vasily by her side. She waves at you and you beam happily, waving back at her. You give a greeting nod at Vasily but the boy only smiles at you awkwardly as a response. He disappears into the kitchen without a word. 

“How are you, my dear?” Olga suddenly asks. “Are you well? Have you eaten?”

“I’m good. I have eaten but I don’t mind some more snacks.” You grin cheekily. Olga chuckles before nudging her chin towards the kitchen. 

“Help yourself, then.”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Kolya and I are having a private talk, as he told me in the text. But you can go into the kitchen and get some snacks from the staff pantry. Just give us a moment for two, is that okay?” Olga says. Your head turns to Nikolai who is already looking at you. He does not say anything other than pouting his lips towards the kitchen, shooing you away. 

“Mm… okay.” Slightly defeated that you are being left out, you reluctantly let go of his hand. You get to the kitchen and peek at the bar through the small window, watching both Olga and Nikolai talking in a slow, whispering voice. Nikolai then goes to sit at a table before Olga approaches him with two drinks for both of them. 

You pull your gaze away, knowing that whatever they are talking about, it does not involve you or it is not even a matter that you have to be concerned with. You can try to ask Nikolai later but for now, you will enjoy your time alone. 

Or perhaps not. 

Because when your eyes meet Vasily who is silently preparing ingredients, you are perked with curiosity and interest. You have never spoken with him, only exchanging friendly nods and smiles. But you have the strongest desire to do what you are best at—bothering people. So, you approach him and Vasily seems to be noticing you as well because he is fidgeting on his spot but makes no move to avoid you. 

“Vasily… is it?” You say, adorably smiling at him. He looks at you and nods. You offer a hand, introducing yourself to him. He hastily wipes his hands on the napkin hanging in his apron’s pocket and shakes your hand.

“I heard that you’re a student at a university nearby.” You strike up a conversation. Vasily still looks apprehensive but he swallows his timidity, trying to respond to you with the same enthusiasm, or at least a chunk of it—as he feels quite uncomfortable with your sudden chatter, like a songbird. 

“Yes, I am…” He replies. “And you don’t… really look much older than me. Are you a student yourself, maybe?” He attempts a question and as if your bunny ears are perked up in the excitement of getting someone asking about you, you quickly answer him. 

“I finished high school several years ago. Couldn’t afford university, so I work.” You say. 

“At a bar, right?” His words leave his mouth like a bullet as if his thought does not even register the sensitivity of his question. You are surprised at the sudden fact about yourself being thrown at you like that but you have to remember—your face and name are already broadcasted in the news as a missing person. 

“Y-Yes, I work— well, worked, at a bar. I was an escort.” You say, your voice tender as you notice Vasily’s guilt is creeping in. His conscience is probably hitting a little too hard and you do not want him to get uncomfortable around you—although your friendliness might already give you the wrong headstart. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” He mumbles. “Olga’s always dealing with shady people and I just saw your face in the news and… and… I-I’m sorry, I think I should shut up.” He bites his lower lip, holding himself back from saying more insensitive nonsense. 

“I don’t mind.” You say. Vasily’s eyes are frantic as they try to divert elsewhere but you. 

“Uhm…” He glances at you. “So… you’re really a missing person?”

You nod. “It appears so.”

“Are you in trouble? Right now?” Vasily asks. His tone is low and careful. Your eyes widen a little in surprise but before you can reply to him, he nudges his chin towards the window. You look at it and you can only see Nikolai from this angle. “The man you’re with. Isn’t he with you? Do you need help?” He hardens the tone in his whisper, emphasising the seriousness of his attempt to help. His eyes occasionally glare at Nikolai, as if the man could hear your conversation. 

“N-No, not at all. He’s with me, yes, but I… don’t need help…” You reply quickly. Vasily flashes you a suspicious look as if he does not buy into your excuse—well, to his defence, for a girl who looks his age hanging around with a man in his 30s is not really a pleasant sight, especially when you are definitely a missing person. A kidnapped person. A victim of a crime.

“Are you sure?” Vasily asks again, holding your wrist. “I can really help you. Nobody in this town dares to mess with Olga because she has protection from a lot of shady and dangerous people, as this diner is the perfect nest to make deals.” He says. “If that man coaxes you to say no—”

You pull your wrist off his grip. “No, Vasily. He doesn’t… I mean, yes, he kidnapped me but… But I do not want to leave him. I want to stay. With him.” You say, firmly. Vasily stares at your face for a moment before palming his face, muttering something in a dialect you do not understand. He then nods to himself. 

“Sorry. I misunderstood. It’s— uh, one of those kink things, right?”

“What?”

“Roleplay.”

“Oh… No, no. Not at all.”

You can only watch the confusion in Vasily’s face brew deeper. 

— ♡

“Well, isn’t this a confusing situation…” Olga murmurs behind her palm after she listens to the whole story that Nikolai just told her—from his drunk and desperate aspiration to your father’s death. He feels slightly nervous at the stern glare Olga gives to him as she ponders over the question he just struck her. 

“Could you take care of her?”

“Well, Olga?” Nikolai asks again. “What do you say?”

“I don’t really understand what you mean by ‘taking care of her’,” Olga replies. “If work is what she wants, then yes, I can grant it. But there is more to this, isn’t there, Kolya? Be clear with me. Be honest.” She taps the table in front of Nikolai, urging. Nikolai purses his lips and grumbles. 

“I want you to shelter her. Give her a place to sleep and stay. Let her work as your staff or something. Anything. Your house surely can fit one more girl, right?” He says. Olga hums and nods before she silently sips her warm black coffee. 

“Why don’t you?”

“What?”

“Why don’t you do that for her? I know you adore her, Kolya. Ever since you first brought her here.” Olga smiles, almost like a tease but Nikolai feels extremely humiliated by that remark. Was he that obvious? Were his feelings too upfront than he thought? Were his emotions engraved too deeply into his soul? 

“Well, Kolya?”

Nikolai clenches his fists, sucking the air through his teeth. “I can’t. I just can’t. It’s not like I haven’t thought about it. I thought about that every day. I think about her every fucking day. I just can’t let her stay with me. It’s dangerous. It’s more dangerous in Peters and I don’t want any loose ends. No loose ends… especially not in front of Fedya…” His words are like bullets, blurting out of his mouth without a pause—though the last bits are nothing but whispers of comfort for himself. 

“But you must understand that it is no less dangerous if she stays with me,” Olga replies solemnly before she finishes her black coffee. 

“It will be fine.” Nikolai leans forward, his tone hardens. “I don’t care what you plan to do with her. If you don’t want her to work here for the sake of your safety, that’s fine too. I just want you to give her a place to stay.” Sensing that Olga is already frowning again, Nikolai quickly adds, “It’s not like I will disappear tomorrow right there and then. I am still here for the next few weeks, so you can still think about it. And— And I’ll help her move in with you. Seriously, it will be one simple task. I really— I just— I—”

He finds himself stumbling upon his words, and he groans slowly. His gaze lowers to the table. He shuts himself up before he goes to say the wrong thing again.

Olga only stares at Nikolai, God only knows what she is thinking and although he tries his hardest to not return the gaze by watching you roaming around the diner with the staff boy, he does feel restless. Jittery even, for numerous other reasons. 

“Alright, Kolya.” Nikolai turns his head towards Olga when he feels her rough hand—that is carved with half a decade of life—touch his. He feels her tenderness and pity on him. Though the comfort is nothing better compared to when you are the one holding him, Olga’s smile tells him what he wants—which is more important at this time. 

He nods. He nods again. “Thank you… I owe you one.”

His eyes divert again towards you, who are now playing with a jukebox. The boy is talking to you, with a friendly smile on his face. He seems to be around your age. The smile he gives you is returned full—with the same kind from you. Upon seeing the sunshine you gift to the boy, warmth creeps up into Nikolai’s heart. 

Not the nice kind of warmth. 

It is something else. Warm, warm—nothing cosy but scorching. That warmth soon broils to an uncomfortable heat that makes him frown deeper at the sight of you giggling at whatever that boy just said. 

What’s funny? 

“That… is Vasily.” Olga suddenly says and Nikolai once again turns his head fast towards her. He tries to relax the frown on his forehead but he certainly could feel the grimacing pout formed on his face. 

“Can’t he pick another name?” He grumbles before he takes his cup of coffee. Ignoring the heat, he swallows the hot coffee, further fuelling his own warmth. 

Olga chuckles. “What about his name? It’s just any other usual name a lot of people in this country have.” She says. “Ah, you cheeky guy. Don’t worry. He is just being nice. And I think it's her that makes friends with him. She’s pretty good at that, you know?”

Nikolai hums half-heartedly. “I know. Whatever, I don’t care anyway. Just don’t have that kid get too close to where he doesn’t belong.” He says. Olga grins, tilting her head as her eyes pan towards you and Vasily and then Nikolai. 

“Oh, why? I think they look great with each other. As friends, of course. Besides, Vasily is a university student. He is around her age, so she is definitely going to enjoy being with him. As friends, of course.” Olga teases again, amused by Nikolai’s little quirks he does when he is visibly annoyed—scrunching nose, twitching eye, rolling eyes, sulking pout. 

“Well, you don’t have to worry about him. He has his eyes on someone else already.” Olga clasps Nikolai’s hand, offering him some reassurances. But Nikolai’s focus is still on you, who is watching Vasily closely as the boy manoeuvres the old jukebox. 

He then abruptly stands up from the chair and his hand trails away from Olga’s. Nikolai makes his way to you and stands between you and Vasily—who yelps slightly upon being shoved by Nikolai’s taller body. 

You gaze up at him. 

“Are you done, Kolya?” You ask sweetly, giving him the same type of small smile you gave Vasily. Nikolai does not know what possesses his mind when his hands reach up to your face, and both of his index fingers lift the corner of your lips. 

“Hm?” You giggle, holding his wrists. The smile grows brighter—turning to one that Nikolai is familiar with, something he wants to steal and keep inside his coat forever. 

“Why, is there something wrong?” You ask. 

No, nothing is wrong. Nothing is ever wrong. 

“Nothing,” Nikolai says. 

“Are you done talking with Olga? Do you wanna go for a lunch date? I’m pretty hungry.” Your lips twinkle, bringing a tint of smirk to Nikolai’s face as well. He drops his hands to his side, eyeing your figure. You are still dressed in his jacket—not that he wants to ask it back. Rather, he thinks you look cute in it. 

And the thought of you smothered with his scent is sending tingles somewhere down there. The thought is eroded away as quick as it flashes in—Nikolai does not want to lose control of himself, not even a little. He has lost himself a lot already. 

“No… No lunch date— No dates…” He mumbles. “I have to leave the town for a while. There is an errand I have to do and you’ll stay here with Olga and… him. I’ll come fetch you when I’m done.” He says, his voice is veiling regret. 

“Oh…” You nod, understanding. “Okay, it’s fine. I don’t mind waiting here. Besides, I made a friend already!” You hold his arm and turn him towards Vasily who is standing awkwardly by the jukebox. Vasily is trying his best to not look at Nikolai in the eyes—as if the older man is emitting a strange ambience that, unfortunately, you do not comprehend. 

For Vasily, he is a menace. 

For you, he is a solace. 

Perhaps the strange ambience has driven Vasily to a point of dread as his words are staggering to form coherence. “M-My name i-is Vasily, sir. I-I work h-here…”

Nikolai ignores the boy before he turns his attention to you, not even sparing a smile. But his gaze softens when he lays his eyes on your innocent face—either you completely miss the awkwardness you created or are totally enamoured by your kidnapper, who knows. 

“I must go now. And take this,” He gives you a few crumpled cash notes. “Get yourself something for lunch. I’ll see you later.” He says before he deliberately leaves the diner in haste—he must have gotten an important job from Viktor. 

“Ah, he forgot his jacket.” You grip the jacket you are wearing as you can only watch Nikolai’s car leaving the area from the window. You feel slightly guilty that you did not remind Nikolai to take the jacket. 

“Jesus, that man is so terrifying…” You hear Vasily whisper. You turn to him with a playful pout, as if you are offended that he thinks of Nikolai in that way. 

“He’s not bad. Well, he was rough the first time I met him but he is very, very nice!” You say and Vasily’s eyes widen as his face contorts into genuine bewilderment and concern. 

“Are you… genuinely okay?”

— ♡

“Damn it.” Nikolai grips the steering wheel hard as his foot presses the gas pedal. His car moves faster as they travel the highway. The clock is already past twelve o’clock and the night is getting darker. He did not mean to stay out of town for long—but there were mishaps. 

He went to a certain bank to finish a couple more documents now that he has a new identity. It took about three hours for him to be done since the bank was filled with people. Then he had to leave the town to finish a job tasked by Viktor for extra cash. When he was finally done, he had to deal with horrible traffic. A supposed one-hour journey multiplied and he was already out of curses to spout when Olga texted him that the diner was closing. 

Twelve twenty-five—Nikolai finally arrives at the familiar suburban place he barely considers home. He makes a turn to reach the street where Olga’s diner is located and as he approaches his destination, he realises that the entire premise is totally dark. 

His heart drops.

Olga would not just leave you in the dark like that, right? 

He parks his car abruptly by the side of the road. He rushes to the diner, looking through the window. He sees no sign of people. The entire restaurant lacks lights and life. He rattles the door to the restaurant, only to find it locked.

“Shit.” Nikolai bites his lip as he frantically looks around, calling for your name. There is no way you have disappeared. Olga is a nice lady. You would not betray her motherly kindness, would you? 

Hearing no response, Nikolai’s frustration grows. His feet cannot stop pacing around the premise and his eyes are straining as they refuse to blink, in fear that he might lose sight of you—his little bird. He does not want to think the worst—because you have promised him. You promised to stay. 

Or perhaps you’ve fallen into the same trap again. 

Nikolai shakes his head, raking his hair at the unwanted thought intruding into his mind. But as more seconds pass, he fears that his heart is agreeing with his head, blaming and mocking him for falling and accepting his feelings, repeating the same mistake he had made years ago—Now look where it got you. It got you the same way with him. 

He stomps through the snowy pavement, thinking that he could get in from the back door. He could not use his ability—for his jacket now belongs to you and only a sweater is covering him from the intensifying cold wind. 

He calls for your name again, this time louder—angrier.

“Kolya?”

Nikolai turns quickly to the back door of the restaurant upon hearing the melodic rhyme of his name. His eyes fixate on the sight of you peeking through the gap between the door. His lips part open, and he is about to gore your heart with malicious words—but the fire begins to ebb when you walk out from the building and waddle to him with his jacket still hugging you. 

“You’re late. The diner is closed already and Olga and Vasily went home first.” You say. “How long have you been out here? I thought of waiting for you at the front but Vasily said it was dangerous and told me to stay inside. He gave me the spare key to the back door.” Nikolai blinks profusely before he throws his head back and sighs loudly. 

“You okay?” Your hands reach up to touch his face, caressing his skin. Nikolai tilts his head towards you, breathing heavily as your thumb rubs his cheek, so tenderly, so softly. He nods. 

“Yeah, sorry. I was… uh, distracted.”

“Long day?”

He nods again, subtly leaning his lips against your palm. They pucker, planting just the slightest tint of a kiss on your skin. Nikolai then feels your hands leave his face, replaced by each of your index fingers arcing the corner of his lips upwards. 

He chuckles—the panic he felt has dissipated and relief courses in. “What’s this?” He asks. 

“I like it when you smile. You look handsome.” You say with an adorable smile—the kind of smile that only a dewy girl would have.

“I look handsome, little dove?”

“Okay, I will rectify. Ahem. You are handsome.”

Nikolai snickers, pride beneath his beam. “Well, isn’t that the most correct thing you have ever said…” He then gently takes your wrists, pulling your hands away from his face. “Come on. I’m cold and it’s already past midnight.”

Nikolai pulls you by your wrist and walks off. However, as his focus is on his car, he feels your hand shake itself off his grip. Before he could even take a look behind, he feels your hand holding his properly, and he gladly wraps his fingers around yours as well. 

You two get into the car and as soon as he starts the engine, he hears something grumbling lowly beside him. He jerks his head towards you, noticing that you are looking at him like a pathetic wet cat as your hand is on your stomach. 

“Seriously? Did Olga starve you?”

“There were a lot of customers during dinner time and we were rushing. I kinda forgot to eat dinner…” You say shyly before suddenly you gasp happily. “Vasily told me something about a supper date. Like, like… eating at a 24-hour convenience store. How about we go to supper?”

Nikolai hums. “Good idea. But unfortunately, I’m pretty tired. We have food at home.”

“Aww, please?” You shake his arm. “You are not going to let my tummy grumble all night, right? Please~?” You clasp your hands together, pleading to him. Nikolai stares at your face—relishing in the way your eyes reflect the orange street lights outside. 

“Okay, okay. Whatever you want.” Nikolai shoves your face away lightly, receiving a giggle. He starts driving with a destination in mind. Before you come into his life, he often finds himself at a bar to have supper, but he very rarely ever visits a convenience store. He does not even think there is ever a 24-hour store. The latest those stores stay open is only up to three in the morning. 

He finds a store. It is empty but it is still open. There are a few empty tables outside, presumably for customers. Both of you leave the car after he parks near the store. You get out of the car first, looking around with excitement glistening in your gaze. Nikolai follows after and locks his car. He huffs as soon as he is out of the car, shivering at the chilly breeze brushing his neck. 

“Kolya,” He turns to you, seeing that you are giving him his jacket back. You tiptoe and he bends his knees a little, allowing you to drape the jacket over his shoulders. He smiles. 

“Are you sure?”

You nod eagerly. “I know you’re cold as well. And it’s your jacket, so…” Your words trail off as he wears his jacket properly, adjusting the clothes on his body. Nikolai snickers before he himself puts on the jacket properly. 

“Don’t come crying when you’re freezing later.” He teases before he takes your wrist, tugging you close beside him. Both of you make your way to the convenience store, entering the empty premise. The cashier looks sleepy and barely awake—he does not even spare a glance at either of you. 

As soon as you are inside, you wiggle your hand out of Nikolai’s grip and make your way deeper inside, looking through the snacks on the shelves. Nikolai only glances in your direction before he grabs two cans of beer and a packet of sushki. He goes to you, seeing you are carrying a basket and still choosing things to buy. 

“Hey,” He calls you before tossing his stuff into your basket. You look at him as he gives you his wallet. “I’ll wait outside.”

The speed of your hand snatching his wallet like a thief makes him raise his eyebrow in amusement. The naughty grin forming on your face as you hold his worn-out leather wallet brings a jeer on him. “Okay, beggar. Make it quick.”

He leaves you to sit outside at a table. He takes out his phone and replies to Olga’s spamming text—he still has to explain to you about your future in living with Olga. Most of his preparations for St. Petersburg are almost done. Two weeks left—two weeks and he will be gone from this town, catching the train to go on a twelve-hour journey. 

But still, he has to keep working on Eyes of God—the duplicated one, that is. Fyodor’s location is ever-changing as if the man is waiting for him and knows who is coming for his life. One thing that is consistent with all the coordinates he has noted from his work is that Fyodor is in St. Petersburg. Nowhere else. 

His routine is unpredictable though. One day, the surveillance camera caught him walking into a church. The next day, he was seen in a library and left after thirteen hours of staying in that building. Sometimes, the surveillance cameras do not even catch sight of him—which could be because Fyodor is also actively trying to avoid authorities.

Does he even want to get into Meursault again? This time, Nikolai will not go and jailbreak him. Nikolai is also pretty sure that the authorities on Meursault have amplified and strengthened the security in that secret prison. How could they not? He literally broke into Meursault by killing a lot of guards, released two dangerous ability users with his ability too easily and toyed with the whole system in the building like a dollhouse. A single person who does not even possess a world-destroying ability can bring so much chaos—it would be a dumb move for authorities to not amp up their game. 

Nikolai sighs. He feels exhausted. Part of him wants to stop this pursuit. Yet, he is still unsatisfied. His heart craves for a closure that does not end with a conclusion to his raison d’etre. The closure he wants is the spilling of blood—a grandiose ending for an unbound performer to his puppeteer. 

He puts his phone down and finally lifts his head to assess the place he is in. He sees that you are by a counter—not the paying kind, but rather, a counter where people get hot water and have access to the microwave. You are heating up your food, it seems. He watches you for thirty more seconds before looking away. 

However, his eyes then catch the sight of a weird car parked not far from the building. The car is parked directly under the street light. From afar, people may not see a single lone masked man sitting inside it. The plate number is even stranger, specifically, its region code. 

Seven-seven-seven. That is the code for Moscow. 

Whyever does a car from Moscow travel so far here? 

Nikolai stares at the car, hard. His hand slips into his jacket, digging into the void before his fingers wrap around a solid metal. He raises his body a little and perhaps the person in the car realises the situation he is in—the lights from the car brighten up and Nikolai watches the vehicle leave the place, fast. Hasty. 

“Kolya?” 

Nikolai turns his head, seeing you carrying a cup of instant noodles and a plastic bag full of snacks. You blink at him confusedly before you look around. “What’s wrong?” You ask. 

“Nothing. Just thought there was a thief.” Nikolai replies before he sits back down and releases his grip on his gun, letting the weapon fall back into the unknown. You walk towards him and pull your noodles and the snacks on the table before pulling a chair close to right beside him. 

Nikolai says nothing of your effort to be close to him. He does not even move an inch to give himself some space, letting you intrude however far you please. As you are stirring your noodles, he takes the beers and sushki from the bag, receiving a curious look from you. 

“Are you not eating?” You ask. “I grabbed a beef sandwich for you here.” You show him the rest of the snacks you have bought with his money. Nikolai only shakes his head. 

“Not hungry.” He says. 

You grin mischievously. “Well, the sandwich is mine then—” 

Before you can touch the sandwich, Nikolai quickly slaps your hand before snatches the sandwich away. “I am not hungry, for now. Doesn’t mean I don’t want it. All of these are mine. It’s my money.” He grumbles. 

“It’s not like I have any money of my own!” You huff.

“That’s why you will work with Olga. Or something.” Nikolai says before he opens a can of beer and sips the strong alcohol. He does not really want to get drunk so much, so he decides to not drink the whole thing in one go. 

“What do you mean?” You ask as you eat your noodles. “What were you talking about with Olga earlier?”

“A week or two from now, Olga will take care of you. She agreed to let you stay at her house.” He says while he thoughtlessly nibbles on a piece of sushki. His eyes are staring deeply at the table. “I told you before, you cannot and will not come with me to Peters.”

You are silent for a moment. Your small voice creaks out timidly. “Does that mean… I only have a few weeks with you?” His heart tugs downward when he feels your desperate grip on his arm. Nikolai refuses to turn his head towards you, so he looks away, staring at the nothingness in the sky instead. 

“Will you come back?”

“I don’t know, love.”

“Why?”

“I just… don’t know.” He murmurs. His thought is only to find his old friend and return a favour—to claim and experience freedom. He can only plan so far—and he knows planning against one such as The Conjurer himself can only get him to a certain point of success. 

Frustrated, he takes a few chugs of his beer. “I feel like I’m going to die in a way.”

Your eyes widen, gawking at him. Fear casts over you as you shake your head slightly. “I don’t want you to get hurt…”

“Too late to say that, isn’t it?” He sighs before he takes out a cigarette, lighting it up. He turns his head, blowing the smoke away from you. “I mean… if it wasn’t because of Fyodor, I would be dead right now.” He pauses, taking another smoke. “I was supposed to die during one of our schemes. Getting chopped in half with a saw—scary thing, isn’t it?”

You cringe—just imagining the thought of shooting someone already makes you feel extremely uneasy. You wonder how brutal his past could be. You knew he was a terrorist—which is weird because any terrorist would be deep in the dungeon for the rest of their life. Yet, this particular one is sitting right beside you, enjoying his beer and cigarette—he looks beautiful, although his eyebags may suggest otherwise. 

In your (perhaps, wrong) gaze, he is beautiful. 

“Was that a plan… created by Fedya guy?” You ask carefully with disgust on your face. Nikolai nods silently. At that moment, a brief memory passes by in your brain when you remember the news you saw on the bus all those years ago. 

“Was he inspired by that one terrorism event in Japan?” You say. As if you catch his interest, Nikolai looks at you. “Do you know? The one where a lot of government officials got killed? I heard that they were… sawed in half.” You frown as your gaze lowers to your food. 

“Oh…”

“Mm-hm. I don’t know the details but it sounds like what Fedya guy intended to do with you is similar to what happened to those people. Poor them… It must have been so painful for the families to mourn. Because, you know, they’re like… half…” You murmur as you continue eating the noodles that are no longer hot—the weather helps cool it down, maybe too cool. 

“Right…” 

You turn your head at him, with cheeks puffed out as you just stuff a big chunk of noodles in your mouth. “You— don’t— mm, look like you’re— hold on— bothered by it.”

Nikolai snorts before he pokes your cheek. “I, have, seen, worse.” He says. “And to say that I am not bothered by it… No… I guess I wasn’t. But that sentiment turned into something else that actually bothered me.” His finger stops poking your cheek before his thumb gently caresses your skin, trailing down to your lips before his hand pulls away. 

He leans back. His heart becomes heavier the more he talks about his little agenda—the thing that drives his passion to achieve something in life. In an attempt to submerge his thoughts that might go havoc later on, he stuffs more pieces of sushki into his mouth. 

“Are you thinking of something?” You suddenly ask. “Your agitation… is kinda obvious, if one has spent so much time staring at you enough.” You smile teasingly. 

Nikolai scoffs, crossing his arm. “And here I thought I am enigmatic enough.”

“You are! In a way. I mean, Nastasya told me before, like before you got to prison and all, that you were very… how to say this in a nicer way… Hm…” You tap your chin in wonder. “She said you were… chaotic and obnoxiously scary.” 

“Ouchie, that hurts.” Nikolai places his hand on his chest, acting surprised and shocked, though his tone suggests otherwise. 

“But I think you have become softer now,” You lean closer to him, tilting your head adorably. 

“Mm-hm, and what makes you think that I will not pose myself differently to you?” 

You sit straight as if you are baffled by his sarcasm. “You have been drunk in front of me. And I have heard a lot of drunken words from others. A lot of times, they rarely lie.”

Nikolai swears his heart drops to the floor and runs away, nowhere to be found. Shit, he forgot about him being drunk and sleeping on the same bed, head resting on your breasts so comfortably. He still does not recall what he has said to you that night and the fact that you bring that up now makes him nervous about whatever confession he has laid down to you. 

It must be something embarrassing. What else could it be? I laid on her chest and slept for the whole night in her arms like a baby! Not that it’s a bad thing— No, no, no, shut up. She’s weird. No, she’s actually very nice. Too nice. Should I ask about what I have said? She would not lie to me, right? She never lies to me. She would rather lie to herself, so long she satisfies her love. 

To me. 

No. 

“Y-You gotta get rid of that observation s-skill of yours, perhaps.” He says before he drinks the rest of his beer. Then, your hand grips his wrist, gently pulling his beer away from his lips. “W-What?” His voice sounds slurred. 

“Don’t drink too fast. You’re gonna get more drunk. You’re already tipsy.”

Ahh, that explains it. 

No wonder he feels agitated for no reason. Nikolai obediently nods and puts down the beer on the table. He is indeed tipsy and he needs to stay focused because he is going to drive later. He does not want to get too intoxicated.

But his hand refuses to let go of the can. “There’s half left…” He poutily mumbles. “It’d be a waste if I stop drinking it.”

“Let me finish it then,” You say. “I know how to drink without getting drunk so fast, you know?” You wink playfully and he reluctantly lets you take the beer from his hand. 

“Oh, yeah? What’s your secret, baby?” Nikolai rests his chin on his hand. You bite your lower lip but it does not help a joyful squeal leaves your mouth upon hearing his soft yet sultry voice. 

Your heartbeat is faster—you can feel the drumming of it travelling through your veins as you shakily grab your apple juice cup and open the lid. “W-Well, we usually drink watered-down alcohol… or just mix it up with other drinks. Sometimes we served them… but the customers never know.” You grin. 

Nikolai watches in horror as you pour the rest of his beer into your apple juice. “You’re gonna burn your liver quicker than me if this is your way of drinking.” He says. Shaking his head in slight amusement and more perplexity, he just watches you drink your combination of beer and apple juice. 

He is pretty sure you are going to get drunk much sooner. 

“You know, girls like you should leave as soon as possible if their captor cannot think properly.” He blurts out another one of his jumbled thoughts before he snacks on the sushki. You giggle as a response—somehow your pitch is higher, as if you are slowly entering euphoria. 

“You’re not the first drunk man I have to deal with.” You smile. Holding his arm, you say affectionately, “And you’re much much much nicer than anyone else.”

Nikolai hums, pleased. “Mm-hm? What’s the worst thing that has ever happened to you?” He asks.

“Uh… hit me?”

“I’m not talking about your daddy. I mean, the customers.”

“Oh!” You suck the air through your teeth, thinking. “Well, there’s this one time where this man got so wasted that even when I tried to stop him, he kept drinking. He started shouting because he wanted to lay his head on my lap—”

“And you allowed him?” Nikolai cuts you off. 

You nod, fast. “Yeah. I had to. He laid his head on my lap and then… um… He kinda asked me for his pacifier—” Nikolai bursts out laughing. “D-Don’t laugh! I mean, he’s old, so he’s probably feeling nostalgic. But anyway, I had no choice because he was starting to cause a scene, so… I let him suckle on my—”

“Wait. Don’t tell me…” Nikolai cuts off again and you shush him. 

“Can I speak, please?” You pout. “I let him suckle on my fingers. It was weird. Very very weird!”

“Oh, thank God,” Nikolai whispers as he watches you staring at your hand in disgust—maybe those were the fingers that had to feel the slimy tongue of an old drunken man. “That’s pretty tame, in my opinion.” He comments before he continues eating his sushki. 

“That’s like… the second worst thing.” You reply as you resume drinking your poisonous—as Nikolai thought it—alcoholic juice. 

“What’s the worst of the worst?”

Your gaze is blank as you scour through your memories, lips still clamping on the straw as you continue sipping little by little. Nikolai’s gaze is blank too—though they are not due to reminiscing, rather they are hypnotised by how alluring your lips look right now. Pouty and wet—or glossy, hell, he does not even know. You are quiet and still for a moment, allowing Nikolai to stare and scan your body as he pleases. 

His mismatched irises land on your lap. A familiar heat he felt this evening when you were roaming around Olga’s diner with that boy comes barging in again. His fingers clench as he bites his inner cheek, remembering that an old disgusting man had the chance to lay on them. 

He despises the thought. He despises the image his mind is forming based on what you have described even more. 

Should have been me…

His hand grabs the beer can, intending to swallow his jealousy with another rush of ecstasy, but upon lifting the empty can, he angrily puts it on the table. 

“I think—!” You suddenly speak, a little louder. Nikolai smirks to himself—you are definitely not in the most sober state now. He notices that you have sipped almost half of your drink. You must have drank it while thinking about things. 

“I think the worst that ever happened was when… Well, you know, the other escorts do not encourage me to sleep with customers. Because, uh, selling fantasy, things like that.” You lean back, resting your head on his shoulder. “Then, there’s this one night, one of the regulars there—we called him Mr. Ben—and he kinda pulled me to the private section. You know, the one where the table is all covered with curtains. And then I was like— I kinda— I told him I don’t want to sleep with him. He called me pretty and cute and— Wait,” You drink some more. “Mr. Ben said he just wanted me to watch him. And I was like ‘Watch what?’ and then he took off his pants and started doing… Uh, you know… the thing that men do. This…” You jerk your fist up and down as a demonstration. “That kind of thing…”

“Holy fuck, stop.” Nikolai grabs your wrist, stopping your very helpful demonstration. His shoulders shake before he inhales deeply. But his effort still does not help the bits of laughter escaping. 

“Yeah. That was the worst.” You emphasise your point by poking his nose with the same hand that was jerking the air just a few seconds ago. “I did not look at it!” You yell, defensively. “I just stared at the floor.”

“You know, for someone who has seen horrors done by men, you should have been more distrusting towards people in general,” Nikolai remarks, keeping his grip on your hand. His thumb rubs your pulse. The sheer size between his hand and yours is a pleasant sight. His fingers link between yours, tipsy mind drifts off to an imaginary world where he is holding your hand during something else entirely. 

Something lewd. 

“Would you be like Mr. Ben?” You retort his remark. 

“Uhm… no…?”

You yank your hand from his grip and wrap your arms around him, clinging. “Then I have no reason to distrust you. You’re perfect.” You murmur, burying your face on his shoulder. Your body is extremely tilted against him—your bum is barely placed on the chair. 

“I know, little dove.”

You start to wail. “You’re so perfect, you know that? You’re so nice to me and you’re so kind… You’re so smart and I think you trying to be free is so admiring. I kinda feel jealous sometimes because I cannot do that…” You sigh loudly. “And I just really want you to be happy. Sometimes you’re so scary and so rough but it is like… It feels so good… Does that make sense?”

Nikolai feels the warmth makes itself cosy in his heart at your babbling. It is cute, he thinks, especially with the glassy eyes you are flashing him—you are tearing up just by thinking of him. He does not know whether this affection comes from intoxication or genuine love, but he enjoys it. He likes it. 

He feels happy with it. 

And as much as he wants to pull away from that desire—to stay focused on his freedom, you are much more alluring. 

Fine, just this night. I will allow myself. 

His hand reaches up to you and Nikolai then gently caresses your head. His gesture causes you to look up at him, staring with a flushed face and yearning gaze. He chuckles softly before he carefully pulls your arms away from his body. His hands then cup your face, cooing at your teary yet darling look. 

“Oh, you little crybaby…”

“I’m not crying!”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that, love.” His thumbs press harder on your lower eyelids, wiping the brimming tears. “Doesn’t seem like ‘I’m not crying!’ to me.” He mimics your voice, receiving a pouty face from you. Your lips slant upwards. 

Tempting fucking lips. 

“I’m— I— I just—”

“I, I, I. Come on, baby. Speak.” He teases again. 

You sniffle. “I… It’s just… I cried because I love you so much…”

Nikolai smiles. 

“Don’t you love me too?”

Nikolai sighs. “Mm… Time to go home.” He says to himself before he grabs the plastic bag containing the rest of the snacks and slips it into his jacket. It disappears into the overcoat. You usually would be excited at the sight of him using his ability, but your mind is more focused on something else. 

“Please? Can you answer me? Do you love me too?”

Nikolai does not answer as he gets up and brushes off the crumbs from all the sushki he feasted on earlier. He takes your hand but you refuse to get up the chair until you get your answer to adorn your own fairytale. 

“Let’s go, love. It’s getting so late now.”

“No, no! Answer me first, please? Or else you’re just like Mr. Ben to me in my eyes!”

Nikolai shakes his head. “Well, Mr. Ben or not, we are going home now.” He tugs your hand, trying to convince you to get up. You whine, stomping your foot childishly. 

“No! I don’t wanna get up!”

“Fine.” 

He leans forward, flinging one of your arms behind him before he hoists you up, getting you nice and stable on his shoulder. You whine again, shaking your legs as you watch both of you go further and further away from the convenience store. His hand is placed firmly on the back of your thighs, preventing you from even rebelling much.

Reaching the car, carefully, Nikolai puts you in the vehicle—or rather shoves you in—and buckles your seatbelt. You cross your arms, huffing as he goes to the driver’s seat. When he is finally seated and buckled as well, he takes a good look at you. 

Sulky. 

“You don’t love me…” You mumble, angrily. 

“I did not even say that.”

“Hmph!”

Nikolai scratches his head and then shrugs his shoulders. You will not be angry for long anyway. Tomorrow you will forget. But maybe not tonight. He can very much answer you—he knows and has the answer in his heart. 

It is just that he still wants to deny it. 

Human compassion leads him to agony. He learnt it the hard way. 

— ♡

Nikolai is still tipsy. 

Perhaps the beer he consumed earlier was too strong. No wonder you went crazy—in a good way. At least you were not unhinged like drunk Nastasya. Just thinking about dealing with her makes Nikolai shudder. He washes his face a couple more times, trying to get rid of the floating feeling in his head. 

He brought you home, successfully. You were not angry for long, as he expected. He was carrying you by the stairs and you were quick to tell him a story where your father pushed you down the stairs because you were slow at packing things up—happened during one of his attempts to escape loan sharks. Then you went to say you love him because he carried you upstairs. 

Weird. 

But it did amuse him to the max. 

You went to take a shower first and by the time Nikolai wanted to grab his towel from the bedroom, he saw you already lying on the bed, sleeping, in one of his shirts and his shorts. The sight is… pleasant. You must have been so tired from a long day of working.

Nikolai finally decides to leave the bathroom. He takes his towel and wraps it around his waist before walking to the bedroom. He sees that your eyes are closed, still asleep. Great, he can just get dressed in his own room. 

He takes his time choosing a shirt with his sweatpants hanging on his shoulder. Occasionally he glances at you. You keep shifting in your sleep—sometimes you lay on your back, your stomach or your side. Is the bed getting uncomfortable for you? Or is it the blanket? Either way, it does not even matter because what attracts his eyes is the fact that he can see the swell of your breasts peeking out from the collar of his shirt. 

Right… You tend to not wear bras when sleeping. It is a common fact. Nothing so surprising because Nikolai is aware of this trait of yours since the second night you sleep in his clothes. 

So, why is his dick hardening right now? 

It’s just boobs, god damn it. You’ve seen them many times. 

Nikolai swears it is getting so much more difficult to stay in the same room with you any longer. His tipsy mind is not helping him with the random arousal he gets from your little quirks—from your stories about letting a man suck your fingers to the sight of his shirt riding up your soft and touch-inviting tummy. 

Once we’re in Peters, we’ll get a hookup! —His head suggests. But Nikolai finds the thought to be repulsing. He does not want to hook up with anyone else. His lust and desire are not sketching a silhouette of his future partner for a tryst or anything. 

They are illustrating you, manifesting you. 

It has been a while since he last had sex, and really, he could have done so at any time he wanted. But ever since a little dove settles herself on his bed like it is hers, to begin with, he finds it hard to even plan or think about his next date in a local nightclub. 

He does not want anyone else. His heart refuses to even immerse himself in a lust shared by somebody else somewhere. Nikolai wants it here, shared with you. But he knows if he indulges himself in a series of pantomimes more intimate than a hug, there will be no turning back. He is already a possessive man, to begin with.

But what’s wrong with it? What’s wrong with it? Was there even a path to turn back? There’s no turning back ever since that day. So what’s wrong with indulging a little bit more? And maybe more? 

“Kolya?” 

Nikolai flinches as he grips his towel, apprehensive. He looks down at his body—thank God, he is dressed. He was lost in his thoughts but gladly his body could still dress itself on auto-pilot. Nikolai hastily hangs his towel on a hook by the closet. 

“I thought you were asleep… Were you watching me getting dressed?” Nikolai says. You blink confusedly at him and shake your head. 

“Can’t really stay sleep… I didn’t look at you… I was… staring at the floor… Because you’re like Mr. Ben…” Your words are staggering as if you are still barely sober. Nikolai scoffs. 

“I don’t even take off my pants and jack off in front of you and you’re comparing me with Mr-fucking-Ben.” Nikolai jabbers quickly without even thinking twice. Only after he notices your eyes widen, he freezes and starts to actually contemplate his life. 

“Sorry. Uh, that was not appropriate…” He mumbles awkwardly. “G-Go back to sleep. Don’t bother me.” He says again before walking to the door. 

“Do you want to sleep with me?”

He freezes again. His mind is running wild. Wilder. He feels like he is going crazy with the scenarios that his mind is playing with right now. He is trying to think straight, he swears, but everything about you is too damned alluring. 

Your sweet voice, your tempting body, your flushed face, your sweet kindness, your pure innocence—god damn you, I hate you so much. 

Nikolai thinks he made the mistake of turning his head towards you, for his eyes are now feasting on the way you look—laying so vulnerably on his bed, your stomach is peeking from the shirt and your chest is begging for him to rest his head on them. The shorts cover your thighs, but even your calves look ravishing. He wants to dig his nails deep into that flesh—he truly does. 

His dick is hard, Nikolai has to admit it already. 

“I-I don’t think t-that’s a good… idea…” He says. It feels like he is facing a darn succubus—except this one is as dainty as a fairy. 

“Mm… I don’t think sleeping on the couch is a good idea too…” You murmur, adjusting your position once more. Your hands reach the hem of the shirt and pull it down, covering your stomach. Nikolai protests internally—he wants to see, maybe if there is a chance (there is plenty of it but he pretends blind), he wants to touch it. 

“I just…” You pause, yawning. “I just want you to be comfy when resting…” You mumble before you scoot to one side, making space for him already. You pull the blanket close to your body again, looking at him with droopy eyes. “If you wanna sleep here, just get on the bed, okay? I don’t mind…”

Nikolai thinks he is possessed. Or maybe he is just following his own heart. 

His hand pushes the door to close and he steps closer to the bed. His eyes meet yours and you give him a delightful smile. Nikolai swallows nervously before he sits at the edge of the bed, scared to even lay on the mattress. 

Fuck, what am I? A virgin? —He berates himself internally. 

He takes a deep breath and finally sinks his body onto the bed, but he is as still as a statue—as a mummy even. He tries to shut his eyes, wishing his lascivious mind and his perverted thoughts to die away like a dimmed candle. 

“You’re so handsome, Nikolai…”

Alright, it’s hard again. It is definitely hard.

Nikolai tenses, shutting his eyes harder as if he can even relax his own arousal when he hears your dulcet voice and subtle touch on his arm. The way your finger is tracing his skin feels familiar—your fingertip is following the lines of his tattoos. 

“C-Can you just sleep?”

“Sorry… You’re just… so… handsome. And your hair is very pretty…” You murmur. Nikolai is hesitant to open his eyes, fearing that he will not fall asleep peacefully later but he really wants to take a look at you. 

So he does. 

He turns his head to the side, looking at you. Your gaze is piercing—needy. He blushes when he sees your legs are tightly together and his very-not-so-innocent mind is wandering to one and only one possibility. And that possibility brings him a tint of comfort because now he knows—and he thinks he is right—that he is not the only one feeling so bothered. 

“Kolya…” You mumble, one hand reaches his face. With a weak yet sultry voice, you ask, 

“Do you love me too?”

Suddenly, he seizes your wrist, grip tightens before he lifts his body and leans forward—pushing himself onto you, pushing his lips onto yours.

Fuck.

I can't think. 

I can't stop. 

His hand cups your face, moaning against your lips as his tongue probes between your lips. Your hand instinctively grips onto his hair as you whimper between the kiss. Your saliva dribbles slightly from your lips and Nikolai unashamedly licks it before his lips continue to devour yours. 

You feel his hands travel to your body, roaming on your torso. His palm halts under the mount of your breast. You break the kiss, only to whine softly. But your break is not for long as his other hand grabs your hair, pulling you to another deep kiss. He sinks his tongue into your mouth smoothly and you try to match his pace. 

But he is hungrier. 

He has been wanting it for long. 

Nikolai thinks his tipsiness is spiralling deeper into pure intoxication. He groans against your lips, grinding his hips upward when your lips are teasing against his. He grabs and fondles whatever he can reach—your hips, your ass. One of his hands slips under your shirt, and finally, his palm touches your bare stomach, pinching and squeezing your flesh. 

Your moan that was subdued finally manages to leave your mouth when his lips slide to your cheek and jaw, nibbling on your skin. He buries his face into your neck, inhaling your scent, moaning against you. His tongue slithers on your pulse, travels, trails and traces every spot he can taste. With your arms wrapped around him, you moan breathily when you feel his hand brush over your chest—halting for a few seconds on your hardened nipple. 

His mouth on your neck gets rougher and you wince when you feel slight pain when he nibbles on your skin hard, as if he is going to rip it off, as if he is going to devour you, literally. Though, hearing your painful wince sends him a message to be softer—he kisses the spot he just nibbles and those kisses trail up again to catch your lips. 

This time, you match his pace—holding his face as you kiss him back, battling tongues until air is no more. Nikolai is too eager—even after a break, he is relentless, kissing you deeper and sloppier each time he drives his lips against yours. His hand slips into your shorts, his nails raking the skin of your thigh. You grip on his shoulders, whimpering. 

“A-Aah…!” Your thigh jerks away from his rough, demanding touch. Nikolai’s hand pauses and he plants one last kiss on your lips. Your face is an inch close to him. His emerald and lilac irises are staring deeply into yours and shivers run down your spine at his darkened gaze. 

“Sorry… I was being… rough. I wasn’t—”

His words are cut off when you shut your eyes and lean forward slightly. Your lips pucker, planting a chaste kiss on his lips. Timidly, you open your eyes, looking at him sheepishly. He seems surprised but a soft smile later forms on his lips. 

“I love it.” You mumble shyly. Your hands gently nuzzle his face before you lean again. He closes his eyes and you kiss the scar slit through his left eye softly. 

“I love you.”

Nikolai opens his eyes and then looks at you intently. Your hand moves a little up, caressing his hair too. He sighs quietly before he tilts his head down, resting it on your chest, and you gladly embrace him, just like that night. 

“I love you.” You say again and he nods silently, tilting his head up to give a little peck on your collarbone. 

“I love you.” A kiss. 

“I love you.” Another kiss. 

“I love you.” And more kisses. 

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

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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.

Hugging?

rushed hehe

Tired dad sm anyone? Kinda rushed but wanted to post it anyway

will wood ref with nikolai ( 2econd 2ight 2eer ) sigh

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Gabriel.