Smile For The Birthday Boy!

CW: SUGGESTIVE

Kidnapper!nikolai and Stalker!nikolai from @cherikolya / @doukeshi-kun 's Nikolai fics 💕💕

(really really love your work!)

A LIGHT NOT FAR AWAY FROM US

synopsis: it's a restless night for both you and nikolai, which makes room for late night talks—maybe the two of you have more in common than initially thought.

content: ch. 5 of icarus falls - main navi / wc: 8.1k

Restlessness is not what you thought would accompany you tonight.

The sound of your bedsheets rustling was becoming increasingly tiresome at this point. It feels like the hundredth time that you are shifting to the opposite side, hoping that, this time, it would be the more comfortable spot—though you're sure you already have your answer.

You don't usually have trouble sleeping at night, but something unseen is bothering you, like an invisible force compelling you to stay awake.

Frustrated by your futile attempts to fall asleep, you reluctantly leave the warmth and comfort of your bed, dragging your feet on the wooden floor as you head to your front door to seek solace in the calming night air. You put your slippers on and open the door, expecting an empty balcony at this hour—only to see a certain someone already standing on the balcony with his arms folded on the railing, gazing into the distance, looking at nothing in particular.

"Nikolai?"

Startled, Nikolai turns to face you with a flicker of surprise in his tired eyes.

"I'm sorry for spooking you," you say, the corners of your lips turning upwards at his reaction. "What are you doing up so late?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he replies with nonchalance.

Taking in Nikolai's exhausted appearance and red eyes, it becomes evident to you that maybe he was also struggling to sleep.

"I couldn't sleep for some reason, so I just wanted some fresh air," you explain to him, moving closer to stand beside him on the balcony, mirroring his stance and resting your hands on the railing like he's doing.

He seems taken aback at your response as if he didn't expect that to come out of your mouth. "I couldn't sleep either."

It's like your presence is making Nikolai feel on edge, evident from how he isn't facing you and the tight grip of his hands on the railing. Wanting him to ease up, you place a gentle hand on his back. “Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah! Don't worry about me," he reassures with a laugh, finally meeting your eyes.

There was a magnetic pull, the way his eyes locked onto you and your appearance. It's hard for him to tear his gaze away like usual when his eyes trail and notice how you look this flawless, even when you're just wearing a simple loose t-shirt and pajama pants. He loathes that even for a second he liked seeing you like this, your bare-faced look with tousled hair.

Stop it.

He scolds himself internally and forcefully turns his head the other way, realizing it's too risky to keep staring.

You pull your hand away from his back, returning to rest on the railing when Nikolai shifts away from your touch. "Don't you love the smell of summer night air? There's just something about it that's unique and refreshing," you say, looking at him. "I guess it isn't really summer anymore though.. since fall is practically here. The weather changes so quickly, don't you think?"

He nods and remains silent but listens as you continue to speak aimlessly, your voice filling the void.

"It's still summer in my heart, though," you add, a grin forming on your lips as you run your fingers through your hair to smooth it a little. "I find it hard to decide what my favorite season is. As much as I adore summer, sometimes the heat gets to me and I can't wait for winter to start. Every season is charming and unique in its own way, so I can't pick one over the other."

A soft, almost wistful smile forms on Nikolai's lips while he listens to you sharing your thoughts. "I like winter," he confides. "I personally think it's the best season."

"Oh, I never would've guessed that!" you laugh with surprise at his unexpected response, your hands retreating close to your chest again in delight. "Do you like the cold?"

He nods almost immediately. "It's familiar to me. Where I'm from, it's always cold, so winter feels especially comforting."

A grin pulls at your lips with his choice to concede. It encourages you to go on. "Now I can't wait for winter to arrive, just so I can see the pure joy on your face."

Your remark elicits a laugh from Nikolai, a sound that quickens your heartbeat and brings a subtle warmth to grow in your cheeks. It felt like a rare chance to talk to Nikolai like this, so you made the most of it with what you could. These infrequent moments of connection were precious to you, and you wanted to seize every one of them and hold them close.

"Maybe we can go ice skating when winter comes around," you propose to him impulsively, heart racing with spontaneity. "I've always wanted to learn how to ice skate."

"And what makes you think I know how to skate?" he retorts, a teasing edge to his voice. Yet, there’s a flicker of curiosity in his eyes, his expression softening a bit at your suggestion, momentarily replaced by one of intrigue instead.

"I just.. thought it would be fun if we could try it together, that's all." you giggle, warmth blooming in your chest at the mere thought.

"Yeah, thought you would say that," he slyly says before his gaze returns to the starry night sky.

Your eyes follow his. "Aren't they pretty?" you ask him, referring to the stars that twinkle like tiny beacons in the dark, tilting your head in fascination.

His attention shifts from the sky to his own hands in front of him, which rest on the balcony railing. "Yeah.. whatever," he shrugs with disinterest.

A thought pops into your head, nearly making you laugh out loud. "Do you think wishing on stars makes dreams come true?"

"Are you kidding? Of course, they don't. Maybe if you're five," he responds, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I was just curious to see what you would say," you giggle lightheartedly at his skeptical reply. "It doesn't hurt to hope though, right?"

That couldn't be more false.

He thinks you must be blissfully unaware of the double-edged sword that is hope. The emotional investment, the attachment that is linked with hope—they all contribute to and amplify the hurt and heartache of unfulfillment that follows. It's a painful reality he's already come to face, though he supposes you wouldn't know anything about that.

"What's your biggest wish?" Nikolai asks you, deterring the current topic.

You ponder for a moment before answering, reflecting on his question in the stillness of the night. "To be wanted.. no, needed. To have someone in my life who understands and loves me unconditionally," you reply, looking at him with a smile. "I think we can agree that everyone wants that, right?"

Nikolai nods half-heartedly as he absorbs your words, more so as a tepid response rather than an earnest sharing of sentiment.

"What's yours?" you ask him.

"What's my what?" he shoots back at you, confused by your question.

"Your biggest wish?" you pout jokingly. "I told you mine, so tell me yours!"

"Oh," he sighs, slightly overwhelmed by your encouragement and the playful spark in your eyes. He felt as if he'd been detached from society for years and didn't know how to interact or talk to people like a normal person anymore.

Actually, he isn't sure if that's ever been easy for him anyway.

"I don't have one."

Your lips press together at his response as disappointment flits across your face. But you change the topic, feeling as if he'd appreciate that. "Nikolai, I saw this park nearby on my drive back from work today.. and I think it would give us a great view of the stars," your voice turns quieter with nervous anticipation as the next words leave you. "Do you want to come with me?"

Nikolai shakes his head.

He doesn't really feel like going anywhere right now, not with you especially. So when he hears shuffling beside him and sees you stepping back inside your apartment, a lightweight sigh of relief escapes him as he realizes that you probably went back to sleep.

But a few minutes later, he hears your door creak and open again. He sees you emerge, changed out of your previous sleepwear.

"Where are you going?" he asks you, confused. A sense of curiousness swims in the depths of his light-colored irises, shadowed by a hint of something deeper.

"I want to go myself," you respond to him, your voice growing fainter with each step you take toward the stairs.

Panic.

"Are you crazy? It's not safe for you to be out alone this late at night," his voice turns stern with no care for the other sleeping neighbors as he watches you walk further down the steps, half-expecting that you will turn back at any second.

Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes piled into a mountain of dread that turned more unclimbable as time continued to pass. It was uncomfortable—the sensation of a certain unease that claws at his chest the longer he waits. Yet amid this feeling, an opportunity opened up for him. He realizes that if anything were to happen to you, it would no longer be of his concern—it wouldn't be his problem anymore, and he would be free of the burden that has begun to weigh so heavily on him.

But just as quickly as that surfaces, another hits him like a cold wave—you aren't coming back. A sort of alarm washes over him, so in a sudden rush, he hurriedly heads back into his own apartment to put on his shoes. He feels the roughness of the soles beneath his fingertips before he frantically pulls on a jacket, snatching up his keys and wallet just in case as an afterthought.

"Fuck.." His frustration was clear as he made it down the stairs, the irritation manifesting in the furrowed lines above his brows and the tense clench of his fists. He didn't have to follow you, but if he didn't, that didn't feel right either—the idea of letting you go out alone gnawing at his conscience.

He wants to be strong and unyielding, to resist the pull of his feelings and the impulses that guide him as an insurgence to rid the soul of its hell. But it's as if his heart and mind are engaged in a relentless tug-of-war, each vying for control over his actions and decisions. His want to stand firm and resolute seemed futile when his own emotions betrayed him at every turn, leaving him feeling ambivalent and astray from his own self.

He reluctantly follows you, scuffling with internal clashing desires, torn between the urge to resist and the unknown fervor brewing within him.

Like a moth disoriented by a flame, he follows.

— ✦

The moon embellishes the dark velvet sky with nothing but the rhythmic tapping sound of footsteps against the pavement echoing in the air, a slight breeze caressing your face as you stroll.

"I didn't tell you to come, you know," you turn to Nikolai who is now walking beside you, accompanying your walk with his hands buried in the pockets of his black jacket.

Honestly, you were thankful for his sudden change of heart and that you hadn't made it that far before he caught up to you. You were glad that he had decided to join you in the end because even if you didn't want to admit it, you didn't want to venture out alone in the first place.

"I didn't think you would actually go out by yourself." A low grumble comes from next to you, breaking the peaceful quiet.

You bit the inside of your cheek at his words, teeth bitterly pressed down to stifle a reaction and hold back a response, even if you weren't completely sure of how you would respond to that either.

So what if you did? Why did it matter to him if you went alone?

It made little sense to you. You couldn't understand why he would be irritated over this when he made the decision to follow you himself, a swirling mix of frustration and confusion brewing within you at the thought. It feels like no matter what you do, you are blamed for only doing what you want to do. He was under no obligation to accompany you. Yet, you still think he was kind for doing so anyway, even if it feels tainted by the unspoken tension.

Most of the walk was spent in silence, which surprisingly suited you just fine this time. Silence as in no words were being spoken, only the sound of the dead fiery-colored leaves that had started to fall from the trees crunching beneath your feet.

However, the silence did bother someone else.

It didn't go unnoticed to Nikolai that the look on your face was the same one from earlier in the day. It didn't go unnoticed that this silence was just like before, and he didn't understand why it bothered him despite it being a good thing for him. If you don't speak to him, he doesn't have to listen to you rambling nonstop. If you don't speak to him, he doesn't have to go through hell and back trying to decide whether or not he should respond to you or not. All of these are good things that he should want.

But he can't focus on anything when that same feeling of suffocation arises within his chest again, and it drives him to do something about it quickly to alleviate it.

The two of you came to a stop by a vending machine, its bright light casting a glow that illuminates both of your faces in the darkness.

"Do you want anything?" Nikolai asks you while he's reaching to pull out his wallet from his pocket.

You get closer to the vending machine and peer at all the drink options offered, a strawberry fizzy drink catching your eye. "This one please," you request as you point towards the glass.

He inserts a bill into the machine, the acceptor buzzing as it eats his money. He then pushes a button for the strawberry drink you chose, along with a melon cream soda.  

You smile to yourself when you notice his choice of drink. You don't know why, but you find his drink options cute. He could pick something like coffee or something bland, but he seems to prefer sweeter flavors.

Nikolai collected both of the drinks once they fell, handing you yours before continuing to walk along beside you. But he notices how you look at the can in your hands instead of cracking it open like he does.

“What’s wrong?” he asks before bringing his drink to his lips.  

“I feel bad,” you confess to him.

“Why?”

“Because you bought this for me, and I want to pay you back somehow..”

He doesn’t understand how you could feel guilty over such a simple thing. And he couldn’t decide whether it was admirable or pathetic either, though he was leaning towards the latter.

He is just confused. You always manage to find a new way to confuse or shock him, and he found it amusing above all. It wasn't like he hadn't ever felt guilty about money either, although for very different reasons. But he couldn't be concerned about something so insignificant anymore when there was a bigger issue at hand, standing right next to him.

“You don’t need to feel bad, just drink it. I already bought it for you, ‘kay?” he reassures you, an uncertain look swimming in his eyes.

A smile crept onto your lips.

It felt like a gift.

— ✦

"Guess what kind of flower this is!" your cheery voice fills the air.

"Let me take a wild guess. A white one?" Nikolai's monotone voice responds as a contrast while you're eagerly pointing to a bloom you happened to come across.

"No! Well, you're not wrong.."

Nikolai's arms are crossed while you're fascinated by the flowers that decorate the bushes. He finds it amusing that you can be so interested in something so ordinary, so trivial.

"You like flowers a lot," he states, his observation unable to stay confined in his mind, almost wanting you to say something to satiate his hidden curiosity.

"I like to care for and look after things that are delicate, that need me. It gives me a purpose," you turn to look at him as you both start walking again. "I find that whenever you have a purpose, life is more bearable."

If he was being honest with himself, Nikolai is at a loss for words. You seem so put together and have everything set in stone compared to him. You seemed to have achieved everything you wanted in life without grueling difficulty compared to him. You seem to have everything so easy compared to him.

You seem content. He wishes he could be the same.

He envies you.

The glow of the lamp lights illuminates the bench in the middle where you both return to, each footstep echoing softly in the quiet air before the two of you sit down, across from each other.

"When did you start working at that flower shop anyway?" Nikolai asks you with genuine curiosity before taking a sip of his drink, feeling a slight chill from the cold metal against his lips.

It probably wasn't a good idea to drink something this late at night, especially something sweet. But the drink wasn't as sugary as he expected it would be. Moreover, he was already awake anyway, so he found little to no harm in doing so.

And besides, this was certainly one way to kill some time.

"Only a year ago," you answer. "I was really unhappy about where I was in life but I ended up finishing my degree and graduating anyway, only to end up where I am now."

"Parents probably weren't pleased about that, I'm guessing?"

"Of course not, but why do anything at all if it doesn't make you happy?" you say, tapping your nails against the aluminum can.

Happiness.

Another putrid emotion. Why not choose freedom of the soul?

However, you seem much more open-minded compared to many other individuals he has ever met in his entire life. He had to wonder about something—if he were to enlighten you about his goals, would you accompany him on his journey? Would you understand him like he did?

No, nobody does. Nobody has before or since then, and nobody will.

He is a fool for even thinking so. But he had to admit, he was a bit astonished by your bold statement.

Extremely envious, even. Because you're stronger than him.

The words start to come out of his mouth, thinly-veiled. It didn't help that it was late either—his head getting fuzzier with each passing hour, the words flowing from his mouth with little inhibition.

"I think you're brave."

A subtle flush creeps up your cheeks, taken aback enough to stop your tapping when you hear the sudden words come out of Nikolai's mouth. "What?"

He freezes after seeing your reaction, a profound realization of what he just told you immediately settling in. It feels like time has paused for him—a moment suspended in disbelief at his own words, knowing it's too late to take anything back. There was no taking back what he had laid bare, no taking back the words that continued to come out of his mouth with no stop.

"For wanting to do your own thing, to follow your own path no matter what others around you say or think. That's a very brave thing to do, you know," Nikolai finishes off quietly, his gaze averted elsewhere as if searching for something else to direct his focus on.

Your voice is barely above a whisper as you let the sincerity of his compliment soak in. "Thank you," you shyly tell him while fiddling with your fingers before finally resting your hands in your lap. "That's the first time someone's ever told me that."

It’s impossible for him not to shift his gaze back to you as you speak softly, your voice mellow. "You weren't scared at all?" he asks you, resting his elbows on the table and crossing one of his arms over the other.

"I felt lonely, that's all," you admit in a voice more hushed, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you nervously gnaw at it.

You still do, but you didn't want to admit that to him out of shame. The humiliation that would come with doing so was something you feared, his reaction to the knowledge of it.

What would he think of you if you did?

Although recalling the events of earlier in the day, you think it's a little too late and even pointless to be worrying about that now. However, you still didn't have your answer, and you weren't sure of why you wanted it so badly either—why his opinion held so much weight.

Your eyes drift back to the star-studded sky above, which looks like a vast canvas painted with shimmering diamonds. But it's something you can't fully enjoy when a small chill creeps up on you, an elusive beauty dulled by a brisk breeze rustling the trees and passing by the both of you.

Nikolai notices you shiver. He knows you're cold.

But all he can do is grip the jacket on his frame and hold it closer to himself while looking down at the ground, where the earth seems more interesting than the unfolding situation.

He would not surrender to these feelings.

"You should tell me something about yourself too," you say with excitement bubbling in your voice to catch his attention again, but your gut signals you to back that sentence up with something else. “Only if you want to..” your words come out deliberately and carefully so as not to overstep boundaries that stretch between you.

Hesitance. Nikolai was practically hanging by a thread here.

What is he doing?

This was precarious. He should know better not to speak any further, to step further into this dangerous territory he knows he shouldn't explore. Still, he can't seem to stop himself like he normally would be able to when an unfamiliar urgency grips him to unravel his usual self-control.

"I do have one wish," he tells you, his fingers unconsciously curling around the now-empty can as if seeking comfort in its solidity, something he wishes he could possess in this moment.

Your eyes widen a bit in surprise, but you nod to let him know that you're listening, undoubtedly interested in whatever he is about to admit to you.

"Freedom."

Freedom.

The word rings in your mind. It was so simple, yet it seemed so ominous.

"Freedom..?" you repeat in a way that makes it seem like a question directed back at him.

A nod confirmed it once more. "To be free from any attachments, and everything that bounds me," he reveals.

Nikolai's sudden seriousness took you by surprise. He was never one to open up about his feelings or his past, but now he’s telling you something that seems to hold importance to him, so casually at that. Maybe the two of you have reached a new level of closeness.

You've wondered about Nikolai's guarded nature and hesitance to open up about his emotions before, more times than you would like to admit. However, you never thought it would be because of such an unpredictable reason. His reluctance to share anything about himself with you could be a reflection of a deep-rooted apprehension due to this so-called freedom he was referring to. It's the earnestness with which Nikolai shares with you regarding his wish for freedom that alludes to something, but you try not to ponder on it for too long.

"Like a bird?" you ask when the thought flits across your mind like one.

He looks up at you, almost confused that you caught onto him so quickly. A hint of admiration imbues his tone as he begins to speak. "How did you know?"

"Cause birds fly freely, and that was the first thing that came to my mind when you mentioned freedom," you explain, a lilt in your voice.

"Yeah, that's precisely what I mean," he acknowledges and smiles, visibly content that you could comprehend it from his perspective.

"Aww, Nikolai, I know you so well!" you exclaim your happiness, catching the small glint in his eyes when you do so.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I didn't expect you to understand where I was coming from," he tells you, unable to control how the corners of his lips turn upward.

"Why wouldn't I?" you sulk playfully to feign offense, causing a giggle to escape from Nikolai.

Nikolai shakes his head like he isn't sure how to respond. This whole thing was definitely a change of pace for him. Someone attempting to understand the way he thinks wasn't only rare—it was something completely unexpected.

"When did you first know that you wanted freedom?"

He feels his throat tighten at your question as if the words resisted escaping. In truth, Nikolai was far too young to be thinking of such things. But it wasn't like he had a choice given his circumstances at the time.

"At a young age," he replies regardless, his voice tinged with an unshakeable uneasiness as each syllable spills out like a reluctant confession.

What does he mean?

You had no choice but to contemplate why he felt so strongly for freedom since a young age, as he had just admitted to you. You were forced to wonder what blossoms such a strong desire in the first place.

How long has Nikolai been fighting for freedom? What exactly lies beneath his calm face?

More and more questions swirl in your thoughts, each one tugging at your curiosity and swelling an urge to understand him more deeply, to sift through his layers.

"But.. don't you think it's difficult for a bird to fly if it's been confined in a cage its whole life?" you ask gently, an ache growing in your chest at the thought of him dealing with hardships.

He feels as if everything around him crumbles when your words reach him, leaving him unsteady. "What are you trying to say?" he replies, a steely bite sneaking into his voice.

"The bird only knows what it's been surrounded by its whole life," you explain further. "You're striving to reach freedom, but what will you do when you get it? What if it's not what you had hoped for?"

In a heartbeat, Nikolai is speechless, his expression a mixture of different emotions. Your words cut deep, carving into the layers of his mind through his convictions and inscribing new ideas into it that he'd never entertained, unfurling deftly and intertwining with the beliefs he had cultivated for so long.

How dare you.

How dare you force him to rethink everything he's ever known.

To him, your innocent appearance was such an intense contrast to how effortlessly you could rake your fingers through layers of defense he'd hardened over the years, cutting into a wound that he doesn't think will ever heal. You look at him like you're peeling back each layer one by one, exposing the tears underneath that aren't meant to be seen by anyone other than himself.

He's convinced someone or something has sent you here to him to contest everything he stands for.

He doesn't know what it is, but he's afraid.

He felt like he was being cornered while clinging onto his idea of freedom, no matter how small he felt with your question that was like a dagger to his soul. Yet by feeling this way, he was only prolonging his stay like a bird stuck in its cage, the sharp, cold metal confining him inside with no release in sight.

The lack of response from Nikolai signals that maybe you said something you shouldn't have, your hands falling to grip the sides of your thighs in anxiousness. But rather than him being irritated like you expected, you notice that he only looks sad. Noticing this makes you feel so bad because it wasn't your intention to make him feel upset.

"So, you wish to be free from everything.. does that include your emotions too?" you ask, intrigued to know more and to ease some tension that started to cloud over.

"Exactly," he affirms, humming in agreement. "The mind is a cage. You'll never be truly free as long as your emotions tie you down and keep you captive," his tone softens while his eyes are still avoiding you.

A certain dread suddenly fills you, sensing something unsettling lying beneath the depth of his words.

"I guess so.." you respond, trying to understand it from his perspective for something he clearly cares a lot about. "Sometimes I wish my emotions didn't control me so much either.. I wish I didn't have to feel hurt or pain or anything like that," you breathe out, releasing a soft sigh to collect your thoughts while also making sure not to spill too much. "It's hard, isn't it?"

His head shoots back up, eyes widening as they meet your face as you continue to speak.

"But I think it's all right to feel like that occasionally because we're only human. It's natural to feel emotions and I shouldn't push myself too hard to resist against that." Your gaze trails over to him, observing the subtle shift in his demeanor.

Nikolai is still looking at you, his expression changing to one of astonishment at your words and the fact that you didn't judge him at all for what he deemed important. He wasn't sure that you could fully understand him or the complexities of what he felt. However, the absence of such judgment in regard to his goals and the thoughtful attempts you're making to try to understand him is what strikes him most, as it's something he doesn't think he's ever encountered to such an extent before in his life. Instead, you embrace the very facets of his existence, ones that he doesn't even bother to explore much himself.

You lock eyes with him, allowing you to notice a sparkle flickering in the depths of his trembling irises that you haven't seen before. Maybe it's the faint shimmer of the stars reflecting into them, or perhaps it was something else—it doesn't matter, because either way, his eyes have never looked prettier as you found yourself unable to look away from him like a pull is holding you in place. The way shadows dance across his features only accentuates the sharp lines of his jaw and the softness in his usually intense eyes, giving him an aura of fragile strength. There was something deeply evocative about his stunned expression, a depth that pulled at your heartstrings—a raw honesty that takes your breath away for a second.

It felt like you said something that changed his whole rhythm.

You don't know what comes over you, but you're so overwhelmed by an inexplicable urge that the words tumble from your lips before you can stop them, soft and earnest.

"I like your eyes.."

Thump.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Nikolai's mind begins to whirl. It's hard to ignore the heat crawling up his neck and the erratic pulsing of his heartbeat, each thud echoing in his ears as the weight of your words settles around him. The moment hangs heavy as you're disrupting fragile boundaries, unknowingly pulling at the strings of something he'd carefully constructed for his own protection. He tears his eyes away to rest his head on his arms, which are folded over each other on the bench, giving zero mind to the discomfort of the metal. He couldn't be bothered by it when it granted him a reprieve from whatever you just stirred in him, taking the chance to escape the intensity of your gaze.

God, why did he have to be so fucking pathetic?

As if his former jester persona hadn't tattered him completely, he'd soon quickly donned a mask of a different type, one more draining than he could've ever imagined being. This facade of pretending to be unbothered and emotionless was one very different from the eccentric one he'd taken on years ago—an exhausting never-ending performance that lasted years.

But he's tired. He couldn't take it anymore, so he abandoned the former.

It was so easy to wear a mask of laughter then, easier in comparison to the one he was wearing now. How such a thing was possible was beyond him, but the difficulty of maintaining his present condition only rose when you appeared in the picture. Now, standing on the precipice of something real with you, the confusion and conflict only sharply twist deeper within him like a knife. 

What would it mean to let you in?

That thought terrifies him.

Fear grips him tightly—fear of vulnerability, fear of disappointment, fear of losing himself as his sanity as he knows it is slipping through his fingers like sand. 

Being around you only fed into such things, as well as the anger that came after the realization of it. It was a matter of time before he'd regret his actions again. He really does try to control his resentment, but his patience is wearing thin. He'd already unraveled too much that day he spent with you, and he wasn't going to unravel anymore. For obvious reasons, of course—but there was one that flits into his mind and out just as quickly, the ache in his chest persisting.

“Nikolai?” you ask, your voice breaking into his turbulent thoughts.

But he doesn't raise his head even after you speak up.

It alarms you, your lips rubbing together in nervousness due to this troubling situation you're put in. You decide to take matters into your own hands and channel some bravery—bravery you didn't even know you possessed yourself until tonight.

His words ring in your mind again, louder than the initial time.

You rise on your feet and walk over to his side, taking a seat next to him while also keeping in mind to not get too close to bother him. His braid fell over his back in such a way you considered far too perfect to be candid, far too perfect for someone who was struggling with sleeplessness. You had to take a second to admire him—and maybe it was wrong to do so while he seemed troubled, but you couldn't help yourself.

Your hand moved on its own, fingers sliding against the cold metal of the table. "Nikolai," you begin softly. "We can go back now.." Your hand reaches to his shoulder, gently kneading it with heedfulness.

One could mistake the caution instilled in your movements as fear, but that couldn't be further from the truth. You weren't scared of him, not at all. Your main focus was to keep the atmosphere light, to maintain what you had right now—fearful that anything you did could push him away at any moment, leaving you to face the silence in your life that felt all too heavy. You didn't want to upset your friend in any way. That was truly the last thing you could ever want.

"No.." he groans softly and shifts away from your touch.

"Hm? You don't want to?" your rubbing comes to a halt, just barely feeling the material of his jacket underneath your fingertips. You try to avoid touching his hair since you don't think he would welcome such closeness, but with a subtle movement from Nikolai, his braid falls and brushes against the backside of your hand, sending a shudder to course through you from its silkiness.

He lifts his head slightly, immediately prompting you to move away from him so he can have the space he most likely wants. You're very aware of the need to respect his boundaries and space, but when he looked so distressed you couldn't help but want to comfort him and soothe whatever was troubling him.

Nikolai's eyes are still avoiding you, looking in the opposite direction as he feels your hand move away from him. It wasn't your touch that he was so bothered by, but rather the feeling he gets when you do so and the ache that lingered in the absence of it. Not to mention, the words that came out of your mouth were dangerous. It's like you knew where it hurt the most and purposefully pushed his buttons, intentionally pressing those raw, aching spots of vulnerability. Yet, beneath the surface of that impression he wanted to believe, he was painfully aware that couldn't be farther from the truth.

He recalls the events of earlier in the day, those gentle, unintentional touches shared between you both that kindled something in him. The way you looked at him while he was in your apartment, the playful banter and laughter shared. The way you treated him with so much kindness despite him not doing anything for you. In a weird way, it felt like a dirty secret—one that not even he was supposed to have knowledge of.

"Are you okay?" you ask again, feeling concerned for him.

"Of course I am," he fleers as if it was ridiculous that you were even asking him such a question. He presses his lips together and relaxes his eyebrows, returning to his usual, placid expression. He slowly gets up from the table, slipping a hand in his pocket to feel for his keys.

You're momentarily a little startled by the sheer strength revealed to you when he takes both empty cans and crushes them with no trouble before tossing them in a trash can near the bench.

"Come on, let's go," he tells you before walking back in the direction of the apartment complex, pretending as if nothing ever happened.

Maybe it was for the better.

— ✦

1:54 a.m.

Your phone makes a click noise as you turn it off after checking the time, the brief glow of the screen diminishing in the darkness.

The walk back home was silent too, for the most part, momentarily broken by crispy leaves falling apart as the earthy scent of decay pervades the air.

"We should do this more often.." you smile at Nikolai who's walking a little ahead now. But he doesn't turn to look at you, the silence wrapping around the both of you like a blanket. The unresponsiveness makes you turn your head down, eyes drifting downward to look at the ground you're walking on instead. They trace the uneven pavement as you walk, examining each crack and stone after another.

As Nikolai navigates each step, he can feel the subtle heat rising over him again. It seems to worsen whenever he tries to distance himsel—a smoldering intensity that gets hotter and hotter, threatening to swallow him. He glances back at you, your figure slightly blurred by the fog of his unease. Each time he meets your gaze, it's as if you ignite something within him, a flicker of vulnerability he desperately tries to douse out. The last thing he wants is to be burned by whatever he's feeling right now—it's a flame that could easily turn to ash if he allowed it to grow.  

When you raise your head back up, you notice his gaze and quicken your pace to catch up with him so that you can walk side by side. You peek at him with a look of concern etched all over your face, a silent invitation for him to share what weighs on his mind.

“Stop, I'm fine,” he replies with an edge to his words, but even to his own ears, the words sound unconvincing and hollow. The reassurance falls flat, yet he presses on as if trying to not only convince just you, the uneasiness simmering just below the surface.  

Regret already started to settle in.

It was only now that he noticed there weren't many people out at this late at night, which gave him a strange sense of relief—that maybe you would've been alright by yourself. But, at the same time, he would've never known if he never came along either.

The image of you wandering alone in the darkness was one he couldn’t shake despite outwardly convincing you—and perhaps someone other than you—that he’s indifferent about the choices you decide to make. As much as he didn't want to admit it, each option felt equally as worse than the other and caused him to suffer a great deal, like a blade slicing into his skin no matter the direction he took. He feels trapped, resenting this reality where these new blooming desires collide with his autonomy.

As you both reach the apartment complex, he steadies himself. Just a little longer—he tells himself, to keep holding tight to that mask. He swallows hard, trying his best to suppress the intimidating heat slowly looming over him. He can’t afford to let himself get scorched. Not now, not again.  

Reaching the last step of the stairs, a hand slides into his jacket pocket to pull out his key to return to his apartment—something that needed to happen more than anything, but his fingers freeze in the process. Instead, he turns on his heel, drawn back to the balcony rather than his own door.

He can't help but sense someone's gaze fixated on him, confirming his suspicion when he turns his head to see you looking at him.

"What?" he asks you, his voice caught somewhere between the lines of curiosity and sensitivity.

"You're not going to bed?" you ask while following his movements as if tethered to him, reluctant to return to your apartment yourself.

He shakes his head as if he's not feeling tired. You, on the other hand, do feel weary, but you didn't want to leave him alone just yet.

"Nikolai.."

He listens as you begin to speak, your voice soft, your lashes fluttering like delicate wings. It's so difficult to ignore everything that he should, the ache in his chest growing sharper with your presence.

"Yeah?"

Even though the sun had already gone down long ago, he still felt its warmth right beside him. And with every passing moment, he feels drawn closer to that warmth, yet instinctively pulls away.

"Do you believe in fate?" you ask him, your voice carrying a sweet curiousness.

Fate? Why would you ask?

He isn't sure what he even believes in anymore.

He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even know what to think, his head clouded and fuzzy in a haze, his stomach twisting with warmth. He only shakes his head as his eyes are still peering into yours before quickly glancing away. On second thought, perhaps it would be better to stay outside for a little longer until his thoughts turn void and senseless.

There wasn't anything stopping you from retreating to your apartment yourself right now, yet you felt determined to stand in this spot until the both of you went to sleep. The silence hung heavy, a comforting yet laden awkwardness in the air. You don't know what to do but to look at Nikolai in this moment while your fingers twirl the ends of your hair, wrapped up in the shared silence.  

"Go to sleep, I can tell you're tired," his voice slices through the silence, breaking your trance as you blink repeatedly to expel some heaviness weighing down on your eyelids.

"But what about you? You need some sleep too," you tell him, a fine thread of concern weaving through your words. It feels important to you to let him know that he's not alone in this exhaustion.

"I'll sleep in a little bit," he reassures you, standing still in his place.

You don't have much energy left to muster up a protest when drowsiness slowly starts to overtake your senses, causing you to yawn and rub one of your eyes. "Alright, alright.. whatever you say," you reply with a smile and reach over to pat his shoulder lightly, taking his word for it.

"Don't stay up too late, okay?" you chide, your finger moving to give his shoulder a little poke. When you tilt your head up to meet his eyes, he looks back at you with a bit of surprise at your touch. The innocence of the gesture feels like a shared secret, and a grin breaks across your face at his adorable reaction—so infectious that it makes his lips twitch slightly upward as well.

Whether or not he was naturally shy was a mystery to you as it was difficult to read him—but you found these moments where such behavior was present endearing nonetheless, beautiful even.

Nikolai turns around and watches as you walk to your apartment door, gulping when you turn to him and flash him one more coy smile that somehow sparkles in the dim light.

"I hope you get your wish soon, Nikolai. Goodnight."

His mind blanks for a moment, overwhelmed by his surroundings, by everything.

Too overwhelmed.

"Goodnight.." he returns a fragile smile to you and watches as you close the door, the creak of the wood failing to bring him some solace like he thought it would.

"I hope you get your wish soon."

He would've. That was if you hadn't made it a hell of a lot harder for him, dragging him back on this earth to be shackled another day. His longing to escape the ground from below, his refusal to be consumed by the intense heat of his emotions again—they've all become increasingly difficult to preserve with your mere presence. What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to explain to you that you're the very hindrance to his path to freedom, the bane of his existence?

It wasn't as if he wasn't used to difficulty, though. No—that's something he's something he'd come to terms with a long time ago, to the fact that true freedom was never easily attained. But when the weight of such difficulty relentlessly pressed down upon him, he feels lost in the end. It feeds into hidden doubts, places in his mind where he doesn't want to wander.

Nikolai is nothing without his goal of freedom. Yet, tonight, you had torched a fear he dared to never confront—a paralyzing dread of inadequacy once the chains were removed.

What would it feel like? When would he know? What would he do?

Is freedom even real?

But amidst all this, the strange sense of security and comfort that also came with your presence was unforeseen. This mixture of emotions was something he couldn't quite solve, much like an intricate puzzle with pieces that refused to fit together. That overwhelming, unidentifiable ache for something unknown he's experienced in the past is slowly creeping back into his core, but it seems more intensified around you for some reason—something both thrilling and terrifying.

He's getting too comfortable. He needed to save himself before it was too late.

But it was as if he couldn't help but get closer. To be able to see your face and hear your voice again was something he'd never find himself to be relieved over. He's never felt more pathetic and weak in his life over this very fact. It's like he turns into someone else when you're near him, awakening a dormant part of him—someone he had tucked away many years ago. He feels like a child again when he's with you, lively and unguarded, free from the weight of his burdens. Yet, he wasn't. He was exceptionally far from that reality.

You're making things unbelievably worse for him.

He doesn't think he's been this miserable in a long time.

Since..

Since...

How difficult things have come to be since his whole world had twisted into something indiscernible, burdened by troubles that seemed insurmountable. He doesn't want to believe that the light will evade him again, leaving him clinging to nothing but empty promises.

If only there was a way to reach the light without the danger of getting burnt.

He tries to distance himself from that lingering heat, but he knows deep down that avoiding the fire won’t extinguish its glow. It’s there, alive and threatening, every time you look at him with those gentle, unassuming eyes. And despite his best efforts to maintain his composure, he knows the blaze will one day demand to be felt.

© kolyasangel 2024 - no reposts. do not copy, steal, or translate. reblogs are appreciated.

happy wedding night...!

Chuu/Lai

Chuuya / Nikolai Stitch-Up

To match FyoZai from last time, here's ChuuLai.

I wrote some notes on him.

He'd be a fucking woozy I know that much.

Give me headcanons, folks.

-Nix🌙

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

RECEIVERS。stalker!nikolai gogol x fem!reader

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

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

PRICE。approx. 4,3k

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

MAIN MENU。FOUR SHADES OF PINK

February is almost ending. 

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, sweetheart! You truly are one!

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

I’m fucking jealous now. 

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

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

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

But you are already carved inside him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know a thing or two about jewellery?” 

The ring merchandise is Erika’s idea…

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

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

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

Ah, this ring used to be yours. 

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

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

His lips threatened to curl up. 

“You like it?” 

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

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

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

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

“You wanna go?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

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

— ♤

Guilt is slowly planting its seed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Me [8:19 p.m.] : Stfu 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nikolai feels bad for you. 

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

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

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

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

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

He presses it. 

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

“M-Mia! Oh thank God..” 

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

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

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

A sniffle. 

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

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

“Haa— F-Fuck…” 

“Who's that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blocked her. 

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

“Shit.” 

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

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

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

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

These fingers were once inside you. 

These fingers once touched you. 

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

These were inside you. 

I am touching you. 

—  ♤

Guilt is growing bigger in his heart. 

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

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

Oh, my dear… 

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

It's the ring. 

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

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

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

Will I really do this? 

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

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

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

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

Nikolai is stumped. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An arrow shoots straight into his heart. 

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

He feels bad.

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

He does not even sleep yet. 

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

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

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

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

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TRASH SUGAR MAGIC

➛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 12: ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀ

➛ nikolai gogol x fem!reader

➛ fluff, suggestive | words: 8.2k

➛ ao3 | spotify | main menu

Have you ever met a jester in prison? 

It was like a horror movie, living together in a cell with this guy who went by Nikolai. As someone who made a living by collecting debts and killing people for various reasons, Nikolai is probably one of the men I would not mess around with. 

He’s a weirdo. His smile always hides weird intentions. He talks in riddles, drawing laughter from others but I know that he is just making them the fool instead of himself. What’s scary about him? Well… if a group of bullies accused him of locking them up in the bathroom and exchanging their limbs with each other, you would be careful, no? 

Unfortunately, people think the bullies went crazy. Nobody believes that a jester like him would be able to do such a weird horrible thing. Nobody believes that a smiley guy like him would tear up limbs like it’s nothing. I mean, look at him! He may be fit but there are other guys that are way bigger than him. 

He cannot do such a thing, not in prison, never in prison. 

But I think they spoke the truth. 

— ♡

Dream threatens to shut away but you want to have a couple more hours to see it to the end. But the glimpses of sunlight from the window tease your eyes when your eyelids flutter. You squirm, your body tries to get up and begin the day, but the blanket is pulling you in and keeping you still. 

You roll and roll until your body bumps against another. Forcing your eyes to pry open, you gaze up through the haze and smile. “Good morning,” You say with the softest voice to the man sitting next to you on the bed. His back is leaned against the headboard, cushioned by his pillow. There is his phone in his hand and he looks serious for a moment there. 

Nikolai says nothing. But without the satisfaction of his voice, you do not think your day could begin any better. So you take his arm—he is wearing a short-sleeved shirt today, with his old tattoos slithering his pale skin. You give him a shake. 

“Good morning,” You repeat. 

Finally, he looks at you. Usually, he would flash you a glare of annoyance but for the past few weeks, glaring has not become his habit. His mismatched eyes instead address you with an indecipherable gaze. Nikolai stares at you for a few seconds before he hums and smiles. 

“When you’re drunk, you don’t snore.”

Your eyes widen as you shriek in embarrassment. Hiding half of your face with the blanket, you look at him timidly. Oh, how unsightly it must be! How many nights has he suffered through your snores? And, and, and—oh Lord, didn’t you hug him as close to you last night? Did you snore right by his ears? 

Your face is plastered with a thick sheet of embarrassment. “I-I…”

But your apology is cut off when Nikolai lets out a small cackle. “I’m kidding. No, you sleep like a log. The quietest you’ve ever been.” He says. You huff, frowning at his teasing. Nikolai snorts. “Hm, maybe I shouldn’t even say that I was kidding. Let you believe you’re a noisy one in bed.”

“I’m not noisy in bed!” You protest. Nikolai glances at you, his eyebrow jerks up a bit before he turns away. 

“Yeah… not sure about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“…Nothing.” He murmurs. He seems distraught for a second and his cheeks are shaded with light pink as his eyes frantically travel between you and the nothingness around the room. 

You keep your eyes on him, sensing his nervousness. When your gaze is fixed on his quivering lips, your mind is rushed with last night’s drunken affair. Drunk as you were, the memories are still fresh in the back of your mind the deeper you scour through them. 

You remember his tight grip on the back of your head, pulling you close to cut your breath with a deep kiss. You slightly shiver at the ghostly feeling on your back, tummy and hips—where he touched them and fondled them. 

His touches were fire, as far as you remember it. 

You thought you were accustomed to his touches by now—soft and rough. It was not the first time you slept with him on the same bed—there was that moment when he was drunk out of his mind and sought comfort. Last night was different enough for you to feel flustered every time you reminisced about it—your mind could play the same fragment of memories over and over and you would still be sheepish. 

Last night was more. 

You are not sure whether to talk about it to him—what is there to talk about anyway? You knew you had poured your heart out for him. Those three sacred words that you muttered to him were and are never a lie or a mere drunken thought. 

“Kolya…” Your hand holds his as you brace yourself to look up at him. He turns his head to you, unreadable. “I… About last night—”

“Do you want to go to Olga’s place?”

Nikolai cuts you off immediately. You flinch lightly at his words. You stare at him and although his face remains unchanged, his hand holds yours back, squeezing it.

He doesn’t want to talk about it. 

A heavy flood of disappointment and embarrassment rushes in within you. But you understand it—well, try to. Nikolai has stated before that he has no desire to fall in love or even settle down. He wanted to finish something with an old friend—as much as you despise the thought of him being lost and lonely after that, you do not think you can even change his mind. 

A soft voice calling for your name startles you out of your thoughts. Your irises roam towards him again. He tilts his head, and gives your hand another squeeze before he asks: “Are we going? You have to return the backdoor key to Olga anyway, right?”

You nod slowly, forming a smile. At least he does not push your hand away. 

— ♡

“Quickly!” Nikolai grunts as he is waiting for you at the front door. He hears your pleas for one more minute from the bedroom. Sighing softly, Nikolai checks his phone one more time, reading Viktor’s new messages. 

Viktor: Are you coming?  Viktor: You bring your girl along?  Me: no i’ll drop her off at olga’s Viktor: Whaaaat we ordered food for you two! Viktor: Just bring her along. Zoya’s packed with customers and I’m getting a tattoo from my baby today Me: nope she can’t come Me: something important happened last night Me: and i have to tell you Me: very important  Viktor: Oh shit sounds like an emergency  Me: yes. so Me: don’t have sex in the studio Viktor: Heyyy

Nikolai shuts off his phone once he sees you jogging towards him. Your body is covered with one of his jackets—as usual, nothing new, he is so used to it—and a scarf around your neck. You stop by the front door to wear your shoes. As if on instinct, you place your hand on his chest to support your balance as you slip your feet into the shoes. His lips curve slightly for a smirk before he completely purses them together when you look up at him. 

“Okay, I’m good.”

“Alright. Get your ass out of the way then so I can lock the door.” He says and you only grin as you step outside happily. As you walk past him, Nikolai notices something from the corner of his eyes—a blazing red thing on your hair. 

He turns his head, taking a good look at you. Your hair is tied in a ponytail style and a red pompom on it. He lets out a nervous chuckle. “Not enough leeching off my fortune and you’re now stealing my stuff, sweetheart?”

“Hm?” You look at him and grin. “I lost mine and I found yours on the table.” Your hand gently takes his braid and wiggles the end of it in front of his face. His braid is also tied with a similar red pompom hair tie, except the red on it is faded. “We are matching! Oh, your face is as red as this too.” You tease, tickling his cheeks with his own hair. 

“You’re playing too much,” Nikolai pouts but makes no attempt to push your hand away. But your comment about his red face brings him some sort of self-consciousness. He turns away to close the door and lock it. In the meantime, his other hand palms his cheek, trying to get rid of the red—which is mainly caused by the cold, perhaps.

No other reasons. 

When you two arrive at the diner, there are already some customers inside. In haste, Nikolai quickly pulls the hood of the jacket over your head. You whine at his sudden roughness but you cannot really protest him—he has all the reasons to worry about you being recognized. 

He brings you to the bar, where Vasily is stationed today to make drinks. He straightens up once he sees Nikolai and you sitting at the bar instead of at any other table like other customers. You give Vasily a happy, friendly wave before Nikolai grips your wrist and pushes it down. 

“Call Olga for me,” Nikolai says, his tone cold. 

“Can you make a hot chocolate for me, please?” You ask Vasily. He nods and gives you a small smile but it drops when Nikolai glares sharply at him. He quickly rushes into the kitchen, calling for Olga. Nikolai almost smirks in amusement at how the young man is visibly intimidated by him but his smile could not even form when he feels a hard pinch on his arm. 

“O-Ow!” He flinches, looking at you in disbelief. 

“Don’t scare him like that.” You huff. 

“I don’t scare him. He is scared of me!” Nikolai replies.

You shake your head, crossing your arms. “He is scared of you because you are scaring him. You should be nice to him. He thinks you are scary because you always look angry around him.” 

“Well, I happen to like it that way.”

“You like to be scary?” You ask. He just shrugs. He is fairly aware of people who perceive him as intimidating—his reputation in prison was an example. Befriending guards and feigning friendships were easy. The hard part was to control himself from doing the worst to others. 

Nikolai is very sure that there was a reason why he ended up in a prison facility that is clearly only for ‘normal’ people with no special abilities. Meursault was easy to break in and out—most people think that by confiscating his white cloak, they also confiscated his abilities. But really, all he needs is just a fabric of space to get the work done. 

“Hello, you two. Sorry, we are kinda busy in the kitchen.” Olga’s voice makes both Nikolai and you turn your heads towards her. She walks into the area behind the bar with Vasily trailing her from behind. Vasily wordlessly starts to make a hot chocolate for you. There is a playful and mischievous impulse within him to further torment the boy but Nikolai holds back. 

“Here’s your hot chocolate,” Vasily says as he puts a cup of hot chocolate in front of you. You gleefully thank him, which sours Nikolai’s mood some more. What are you thanking for, darn it. It is just hot chocolate. I can make one too. Much better one too—he thinks. 

“Ahem,” Nikolai turns to Olga who is giving him a teasing smile. He huffs and looks away. Olga only chuckles before she turns to you. “I suppose you already know that you will move into my place a few weeks from now?”

Nikolai glances at you, watching. You nod at Olga’s words before you sip the hot chocolate. The drink stains your upper lip and your tongue emerges between your lips to lick it. He tries his best to pry his eyes away from your lips—he really does, but at the back of his subconscious mind, everything that happened on his bed last night has burnt and seared deeply in his brain. 

He knows it is bad to think about those same pair of lips kissing and smooching his face and the scar on his eye until he falls asleep. But it cannot be helped, really. Since this morning—he woke up earlier than usual and proceeded to tuck you in properly to bed—he has been thinking about whatever happened between you two. He wanted to convince himself that it was really a drunken decision to kiss you but Nikolai knows that even if he was not drunk at the slightest at that time, he still would have kissed you. 

He would. 

Nikolai barely listens to what you and Olga are talking about. It is probably something to do with your work as a staff here. He does not care about that, really. What he does care about is how you would live in a new place later on, possibly with a new roommate. 

Somehow he finds the thought of you waking up in the same house with other people annoying. 

“Kolya? Did you hear what I said?” Olga taps the table in front of Nikolai and he blinks confusedly. He shakes his head, not bothering to even lie that he was ever concentrating. He does concentrate though… on someone else. 

“I will need some time to prepare her room. When do you think she could start to move in?” Olga asks. 

“Why ask me? Ask her.” Nikolai pouts his lips towards you. “When do you want to leave?”

Your eyes divert down to your hot chocolate. Fiddling with your fingers, you mutter hesitantly, “Maybe… on the day you leave to Petersburg?” You say. “I don’t wanna move too early, you know?”

Nikolai glances at Olga and he finds her returning the same glance. He knows that there is a similar thought in their mind right now. You do not mind moving into Olga’s place early, surely, if your kidnapper is not him. 

“When will you leave, Kolya?” Olga asks slowly. 

He shrugs. “In two weeks or so… I gotta prepare a bit more things with Viktor about my apartment and car. Speaking of which, I do have to leave because I have to see him at Nastasya’s studio later.” Nikolai says. Your head jerks at him, frowning at the way he is already standing and adjusting his jacket. The gaze you are giving him is a clear protest that you do not want him to leave you—but ultimately, you say nothing. 

“Don’t make that face, birdie. I’ll be back at five. And you will work here and assist this graceful old lady.” Nikolai says and Olga’s sweet smile turns into a scowl. She smacks the back of Nikolai’s head mildly, which thankfully makes you chuckle. 

“Okay, I’ll wait for you.” You say to him. He smiles. 

“Good,” Nikolai then leans down, bringing his lips close to your ear as he whispers, “And don’t trust or talk closely with any customers or strangers. You can trust Olga but not the others, do you understand?”

There is a clear confusion on your face at his sudden warning but a good girl you are, you nod at his words. Nikolai is about to pull away from you but from the corner of his eyes, he notices that Vasily is looking at him suspiciously. Hating the idea that there is still a possibility—no matter how small—that Vasily could get a little too close to you, Nikolai makes a quick decision, not a second thought. 

He kisses your cheek. 

“Okay, buh-bye, ladies.” He turns on his heels, practically stomping towards the exit door. On his way to leave the restaurant, he hears your little squeals of happiness and attempts to even form a word to Olga. 

Nikolai smiles to himself, proud. 

— ♡

Whenever you are by yourself, a small giggle cannot stop leaving your mouth. 

It feels so unreal. The lingering feeling on your cheek is so unreal. 

If you are not working right now, you would have twirled and spun under the falling snow, skipping and dancing like a princess in those movies who live happily ever after. Your cheeks are warm and your heart is still fidgeting in delight. 

You are stationed at the bar, assisting Vasily with taking orders and learning to make drinks. It comes very easy for you since this is not entirely a new experience for you to work in such a setting. Olga even gives you a sheet of recipes for coffee and tea drinks, which is very much helpful. 

Vasily is gone to the back for a while now which leaves you alone at the bar. You do not mind since there are not many customers. But five minutes later, Vasily walks out from the staff room, completely changed into casual clothes while carrying a laptop bag. 

“Oh, are you leaving?” You ask. He nods and gets behind the bar to fill up his water bottle. 

“I have classes from five to nine.” He says. You coo, nodding in amusement. 

“What kind of classes do you have that you gotta go to college at night?”

“Electives… It’s very annoying.” Vasily huffs. “The coursework is always too redundant for a subject that is, frankly, quite unnecessary. The class is only for two hours but I will have to join a group discussion for another two.” He groans as he throws his head back. “Haven’t gotten a good sleep these days…”

You chuckle. Somehow you feel a little grateful that your day is not as busy as his. All you do during the day is bother Nikolai until he shuts you up by giving you food, but even then, you still talk to him about random things. Lately, you are trying to ramble to him about a short story called ‘The Fair at Sorochyntsi’ that you read from the old books he found around the house.

Reading short stories would be more fun than reading academic books, you think. Even so, you are not opposed to experiencing the struggle.

“I wish you luck then. And don’t forget to eat dinner and take care of your health, alright? You must stay healthy if you want to study smoothly.” You grin. Vasily looks at you for a moment before he snickers and nods. 

“Yeah, thanks. You too.”

He leaves the bar and with a farewell wave, he leaves the restaurant. From inside, you see him approaching his friend who is already waiting outside. You pry your eyes away and take a seat behind the bar as you wait for any new customer. 

You are overcome with boredom as you do crosswords in the newspaper to kill your time, until you hear the bell on the entrance door ring, signalling someone is walking in. You hope it is Nikolai but it is just a quarter past three o’clock. When you look up from the newspaper, it is a tall man who looks to be in his 40s, approaching the bar instead of choosing any table to sit at. The way he is walking is a little weird—it looks like he hurts one of his legs or something. 

Reaching the memo pad to take orders, you stand up and greet him. He returns your smile before sitting directly in front of you at the bar. “How can I help you, sir?” You ask. 

For a second, you notice how his eyes leer up and down upon you. Something about this man does not sit right with you. Nervously, your hand pulls the hood to cover your face a little bit more. You attempt to keep smiling and stay calm—you are probably more anxious doing things alone since Vasily is not around anymore and Olga stays in the kitchen with her other staff members. 

“What do you recommend to me, sweet pea? I don’t know much about this restaurant. It’s my first time here.” He says. Your eyes twitch upon hearing the nickname roll out his tongue like that. It feels repulsive—despite you being used to being called sweet nicknames like that by the men you escorted before. 

“Uhm, we have a tea-time promotion from three to six.” You say, trying to be as friendly and helpful as possible. You take a menu and give it to him, showing him the tea-time promotion. But the man’s gaze is not even on the menu, instead, it is fixated deeply on your face. 

“Maybe coffee,” He says.

“What kind of coffee would you like, sir? We have the classics.” You tap a section on the menu with your pen. “We have espresso, cappuccino, latte…”

“I’d like your favourite, then.” He grins. You force out a small cackle—just to remain friendly with him despite the uneasiness swirling deeply in your chest. 

“Uhm, mocha… would be nice, sir.” You mutter. He nods. 

“Alright. Two hot mocha please,” He says and you scribble the name on the memo pad. Before you could ask him for anything else, he grins once again. “One for you, one for me. My treat, miss.”

“Oh…”

Your hand stops. “I don’t… uhm… It’s not my break time yet, so…” You try to come up with an excuse. It is clear that this man is trying his way to you by offering you a drink, but you are still holding on to what Nikolai just said—do not trust anybody except for Olga. 

Besides, you are very not interested in meddling with other people right now. Your heart belongs to someone else and that someone has ignited a fire within you with a soft, faint kiss on the cheek. You do not want to entertain this man any further, so you quickly say, “One hot mocha coming right up, sir.”

You do not even bother asking him whether he wants any pastry or cake to go along with it. 

“Aww, come on, sweet pea. You aren’t really a friendly one, are ya?” He says again, this time, his tone is very flirty. He even makes whistling noises at you whenever you step a little closer to his spot to reach the equipment to make his mocha. 

“You’re real cute, sweet pea.” He rests his chin on his palm. He then sneers as his eyes roam all over your body. “Nice bod, too. No wonder people come here for you.” He winks before cackling at you. 

You only glance at him and say nothing as you put his hot mocha in front of him. You once again force a tiny smile. “Hot mocha, sir.” The man nods and stirs the drink.

“Say, little girl. You don’t look like you’re from here.” He says, leaning closer despite the counter bar being the only separator between you two. You try to not give him much attention to him and just smile at him—enough to not anger a man who lacks attention. “You don’t live alone, by chance?”

“I live with my man.” You mutter.

“Oh yeah? You really have a man?” He says. His tone is mocking, as if he does not believe you. You frown. 

“Yes. Yes, my man.” You affirm to him. It is not entirely a lie. You do live with a man but is he your man? Though your confession might be one-sided, you want to believe so—a little fantasy could help with your sanity after all the madness you have gone through in your life. 

The man only snickers at your response before he takes a sip of his drink. With his attention briefly moving away from you, you finally let out a sigh of relief. You do not think you want to linger behind the bar like this with this man near you. 

You must find something else to do. It is really unfortunate that it is not peak hour, so there are not many customers. When his gaze is away from you, you quickly slip out from the bar and make your way to reach the broom from the cleaning closet. You do not know what you are cleaning, but you do anyway. Anything to get away. 

But his gaze never leaves you—marking dirt upon your figure. 

— ♡

“Hello.” Nikolai steps into VIY Studio. He sees Zoya who is currently consulting a client in the lounge. She turns to him and nudges her chin to Nastasya’s office, already knowing the reason for his presence. Nikolai makes his way there and knocks on the door. 

“Oi, it’s me.” He says. He does not want to barge in like before. Big big mistake. 

“Come in!” He hears Nastasya’s faint voice from the inside. He opens the door and finds Viktor lying on his stomach, with his bare torso out in the open. Nastasya is dressed in black pants and a strapless black top. She is focused on tattooing Viktor’s back shoulder—it seems like a nose or something. 

“What’s this? What kind of movies are you inspired by now?” Nikolai asks as he takes off his coat and places it on the chair near Nastasya’s working desk. He sits down and reaches for the food that the couple ordered beforehand for him and you. 

“I saw an old play about noses. Pretty good shit and I want it tattooed on me as a memoir. Do you get me?” Viktor grins. Nikolai’s eyebrow jerks up in slight bafflement. 

“You tattooed a nose on your skin because you saw an old play? Wow. I’m glad I’m not that crazy.”

“It’s not just a nose! It’s the nose! The nose!”

Nikolai looks at Nastasya and as he munches on the chicken pelmeni, he says, “Are you sure you still want to be with this guy?”

Nastasya only scoffs. “I think it’s cute.”

“See!” Viktor cheers. “You don’t know shit about love, bro. Maybe try practising it with your baby blue babydoll, eh?” He teases. But Nikolai stops eating when he hears the mention of you. His face goes slightly red again when he remembers that he kissed your cheek unprompted before leaving earlier. 

Now how can he save his face when he returns to the diner? God, that was embarrassing. 

“Hey, I want to ask… She is not from this town, right?” Nikolai asks. Viktor nods. “And the loansharks… I don’t think they’re from here but they must have a base to operate if they want to catch her dad. Where are they? Where is it?”

“Moscow, but I don’t know which exact part of Moscow they’re based at,” Viktor replies. “Why?”

“Just curious.” Nikolai bites the inside of his cheek. His mind remembers a weird event last night where he sees a car from Moscow, seemingly suspicious. He does not want to think too hard about it but he does not want to take any risk. 

He will make his own investigation later. After all, he still has that knock-off Eyes of God. 

“So, what have you decided to do with her? You have like two weeks left here, right?” Viktor asks before he turns his head to look at Nikolai. He groans slightly, probably already feeling strained by the position and the dabbing needle on his back. 

“Yeah, I talked to Olga about it. She’ll take her in…”

“Ooh, good choice, good choice. Well, she’s safer with Olga for sure. No criminal groups are going to let that diner burn. It’s like a beloved nest for all drug dealers!” Viktor laughs but stops immediately when Nastasya slaps his ass as a warning to stop laughing so his back would not move so much. 

“I said I have something important to tell you, right?” Nikolai says. Viktor only hums. Nastasya is not even listening, most likely. She never really is the one who inserts herself in their business, unless it involves something that could endanger Viktor—which, frankly, a lot of times. 

“Well, this is about her.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“We made out.”

Silence. 

Complete silence, except for the buzzing noise of the needle in Nastasya’s hand. Even then, the holder herself is wide-eyed, mouth agape, visibly surprised. And her boyfriend is no better. They physically freeze in their spot for a solid minute. 

With their wide-eyed gaze upon him, Nikolai feels extremely abashed, as if he has been put under the spotlight without his consent. As if he is forced to perform a play he never rehearsed. Even if he wants to stop the conversation right there and then—because he thinks they deserve just a speck of last night’s rendezvous—the way both of them look at him makes him want to confess all his sins. 

“We, uh… got drunk… and… she said I can sleep with her on the bed because… you know… and then… and… she kinda touched me— not like touched me there or anything— I think I touched her more than I should but uh… I… we kiss— well, I… I kissed her…”

Hot, scorching, blazing fire is burning his insides. Nikolai wants to bury his face in the soil and let the earth dim his heat away. Although he cannot see his face, he feels the tingles on his cheeks prick so damn hard when Viktor suddenly howls in excitement. 

“Woah! Woah! Woo! Woo! What? You fucking joking! Waow! Is this real?!” 

“Was she okay about it?” Nastasya asks carefully and Nikolai wants to just smack her because of that stupid question. What does she think? You are smitten with him (and he refuses to admit that he is the same when it comes to you). Of course you were fine about it. You literally hugged him, kissed him to sleep and kept him so close to your body like a teddy bear! 

Viktor is already sitting up, ignoring the pain in his muscles. He is enthusiastic, too happy for something so ‘small’ that happened to his friend. The way Viktor is cheering is as if Nikolai did not have occasional casual sex all his life. 

“Hey, wait! If you two have kissed… did you…” Viktor grins perversely as he makes a circle on one hand and his other hand makes a pointing finger gesture. With that stupid smile, he inserts his pointing index finger into the circle, which could only mean one thing. He even wiggles his finger as if to make his point any clearer. 

“No! I did not do that.” Nikolai lowers his voice. “We did not fuck, are you crazy? We were drunk! A-And… it’s too fast and it’s inappropriate and… she’s probably gonna be afraid and… you know…”

“Oh yeah, surely, dude. Suuuurely…” Viktor giggles and it turns to a loud laughter that he throws his head back. He is enjoying this a little too much and Nikolai could only lament his decision to even tell this couple. Nastasya is only watching, amused and entertained. Her laughing boyfriend tries to control himself as he teases again, “So, did you take a cold shower or something? You woke up with a boner this morning?”

Nikolai lowers his face in shame. 

“Worse.”

— ♡

The sky outside is cloudy but the snow is not as heavy as usual. The weather has been quite unpredictable these days. Nikolai has five more minutes until he arrives at Olga’s diner. He just finished an errand given by Viktor for some extra cash—he has to deliver some ‘mysterious package’ to a smuggling group and he got it done earlier than expected. 

When he finally arrives, he parks his car near the diner and sits back to check his phone. His eyebrow cocks in confusion when he sees a new message from Viktor—a link is attached to it.

Viktor: A Guide On How To Please A Woman Viktor: Hope this helps, bro. From one bro to another Me: pls fucking die 

Nikolai could only imagine the laugh Viktor is doing right now. But he does not really blame the guy. If the situation flips and it goes like Viktor is the one acting like this towards Nastasya, Nikolai would tease him the same—well… if that ever happens before his imprisonment, that is. 

He finally turns off the engine of his car and leaves the vehicle. He fixes the coat on his body and looks around as he walks towards the diner. But his steps are halted when he sees a certain car parked just several metres away from his own. Nikolai diverts his direction, approaching the car instead.

Seven-seven-seven. Moscow. 

The car is similar to what he saw last night in front of the convenience store. He remembers the plate number and the region code. His eyes narrow as he circles the car, trying to find anything that could answer his curiosity and suspicion. 

“This shit looks new and modern. Probably has an alarm if I touch the wrong button.” He mumbles to himself. Both of his hands are in his pockets, wagering his chances to even meddle with the car from the inside. Deciding that it is not worth his time—plus, the owner of the car might be inside the diner with you—Nikolai turns around and walks towards the diner. 

From the window, he sees only two tables are occupied by customers. A man is sitting at the bar and he notices you standing awkwardly by a table with a broom in your hand. Nikolai observes the others again—one group of customers is a couple of old people enjoying tea and reading newspapers and another group of customers is some teenagers enjoying their late lunches. 

The man, however—

Nikolai knows him. That figure he has known so well. There is no way he can forget a person he spent almost six years with while in prison, especially not when he has to live together with them day and night. 

“Bastard…” He mutters before he finally walks into the diner. The bell rings and Nikolai notices your eyes brighten up like the morning sun when you see him. You are about to take a step towards him but Nikolai immediately holds up his hand towards you without even looking at you. 

Instead, he approaches the man at the bar. Once he is close, he wraps his arm around the latter’s shoulders. 

“Elvir, my friend! How long has it been!”

Elvir flinches hard, hearing Nikolai’s cheerful, friendly voice. His head jerks to his side, seeing the familiar grin on Nikolai’s face. Nikolai immediately takes a seat beside him, his arm still extended over the older guy’s shoulder, patting his back at a steady pace. 

“How’ve you been, friend?” Nikolai asks, with the last word hardened at the edge of his tongue. “How’s Borys, if you still keep in contact with him. Oh, oh! How’s your leg, hmm? Still clanking nice? Still clanking good?” With his foot, Nikolai nudges the metal that replaced half of Elvir’s left leg. 

Elvir immediately pulls back his left leg, avoiding Nikolai’s playful kicks. An intense fear is clear in his eyes, with the way his irises shake. “Nikolai… What are you doing here…?” He asks and his voice is yet another proof of his dread. 

“What am I doing here? Well, I live here, silly goose!” Nikolai grins. “What are you doing here? All the way from Moscow? Huh? Yeah? Moscow, right? I mean, I saw a strange car outside and then I saw you—I really don’t imply that you are strange, no, no, not at all!—and I make the connection and badump! You’re all the way from Moscow.”

“I… I am.”

Nikolai smiles, nodding. “Mm-hm, mm-hm. So, why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you come here, dummy? Oh, and let’s not lie to each other, Elvir. I know how tricks and lies work, alright?” He says, tapping the table in front of Elvir, demanding answers. “Come on, spill out, old guy. This is the time for old friends to catch up with one another.”

“It’s… It’s just that I have a job here.” Elvir says hesitantly. “No other reasons.”

Nikolai smirks. “Let me guess. Is it to retrieve the daughter of your debtor?”

Elvir’s eyes widen. His irises frantically move between the man in front of him and the girl who has been sweeping the floor for over an hour. He tries to speak but all that leaves his mouth are filler words of nervousness and uncertainty. 

He then gasps before lowering his voice to a whisper. “Wait… Are you perhaps… the informant Vivian?”

Vivian—Nikolai knows that name. It is a pseudonym for Viktor to ensure the privacy of his real name. He only ever uses that name for criminal stuff ever since both of them worked at the shady circus. Viktor wanted to have an alter-ego, so to speak, as his ‘illegal identity’ and wanted the name to begin with ‘V’. He ended up with ‘Vivian’ after multiple horrible suggestions from Nikolai—prime exhibit: ‘What about Viagra? Vibrator? Virgin? Viscerocranium?’ ‘Shut your hole, Gogol.’

“I’m not Vivian. But I am acquainted with him.” Nikolai says. “He’s my manager, basically. Well, partner-in-crime, more accurately. F-friend, sorta.”

“Vivian has been in contact with one of my men about… our debtor. We asked him to get his daughter as our hostage quite a while ago…” Elvir whispers, which only annoys Nikolai because there are no goddamn people near them. The teenagers are busy with themselves and old people can barely hear anyway. Boldly, Nikolai pushes Elvir’s shoulder away, putting distance between them. 

“I’m aware. After all, I was the one who got the girl.” Nikolai says before tilting his head in your direction. You are not facing him, instead you are now changing your sweeping job to wiping the windows. “She’s the girl you wanted, right?”

Elvir glances at you for a second before he licks his lips, contemplating and choosing his words carefully. He nods slowly. “Yeah. She is. I-I thought she would be… locked and tied up… And she’s not even…” He pauses, staring at you. You are incredibly close to the main door to the diner. At any time you can run out and scream for help. Hells, you can even plead your case to the group of teenagers and yet—

“She doesn’t even run away…”

Nikolai smiles to himself—Locked her up, tied her up, knocked her out, I did all that and she ran back to me. 

Elvir scoffs, suddenly. “I see. She doesn’t run away because you trained her or something? Make the girl obedient and listen to you?”

Quite the opposite, actually. 

“You can think of it that way,” Nikolai shrugs his shoulders before he grabs Elvir’s jaw, turning the older man’s gaze away from you. Then his hand moves to stay on Elvir’s back, almost like a warning gesture. “But that’s not important right now, yeah? You came here to retrieve her.” Nikolai says. 

“Well, y-yeah.”

“Her daddy already died, though.”

“He had millions in debt, Nikolai.” Elvir grunts. “If he cannot pay anymore, his daughter can.” 

“That’s not her responsibility,” Nikolai replies, his glare turning sharp. Elvir is about to retort but Nikolai quickly cuts him off. “I know what the likes of you do to young women like her. Even her former job did not pay her well. You expect her to be able to pay off millions and possibly more because of your fuckass interest rates in just a couple of years?”

He suddenly cackles dryly. “You’re full of shit, you know that? You’re gonna enslave the fuck out of the girl.”

Elvir frowns hard and his fist clenches. His anger seems to be accumulating, probably because of the condescending and mocking tone that Nikolai has been using to speak to him—he feels disrespected, and the jester is more than happy to taunt and ridicule him. 

“Your business ended ages ago, Gogol. You’re just paid to kidnap the girl. Nothing more. Your job is done done. The girl belongs to us and she has more shit to do than cleaning this damned restaurant.”

Nikolai’s lips form a soft, tiny twinkle. “Mm-hm. I know.”

“Then what the fuck is the matter?”

“This is the matter.”

Click!

Elvir freezes. His breath is stuck without a second once he hears a familiar cocking sound of a gun. And he is right on the money when his eyes lower to his stomach, where a gun is pointed. His eyes then slowly shift up, meeting Nikolai’s sweet smile and menacing stare. 

“Now, here’s a quiz.”

He smiles broadly. “What other limbs can I tear apart from you aside from your left leg?”

Elvir says nothing and he shudders when Nikolai guides the gun to his right leg. “The answer is its lovely pair.” 

“E-Easy with the threats—”

Nikolai cuts him off again. “You see… I believe that when we have the free will to choose our options, we also choose our consequences. I mean, you made the choice to report me to the disciplinary act in jail, so your consequence is that you lost your leg, oops! So I’ll give you options, choices and free will, so to speak.”

He leans closer and the tone of his voice lowers deeply as he says, “One, you come near the girl, this place or this town, I’ll sever more than just your right leg. Bonus if I’m diligent, maybe your men can get a part of your limbs, who knows? The skin, after all, is the biggest organ. You would have enough to be a souvenir to many.”

The fear on Elvir’s face is prominent. He swallows his saliva nervously and even carefully as if one wrong move can lead him to death. And he is not entirely wrong considering that an unsecured gun is still pointed against his stomach, with Nikolai’s finger already on the trigger. A simple press and he could have lost his guts—and he does not think Nikolai’s threat is merely trivial. 

No, he does not take this man lightly. What he witnessed in prison is enough. 

Nikolai suddenly laughs keenly, as if he finds this situation fun. Perhaps it is fun for him. “Ah! Don’t make that face. It’s comedic, really! I almost forgot what your second option is!” He sighs, shaking his head. 

“Don’t screw with me—”

“Second, you turn around, face straight ahead and fuck off back to Moscow.” Nikolai retracts his gun, tilting his head with an adorable smile. “And you shall live happily ever after like a prince in fairy tales.”

Elvir stands up. 

Without words and at a fast speed, he turns around to leave. He hastily walks off but his steps stop when Nikolai loudly says, “Hey now, my good friend! Why are you in a rush? Just walk, man! Your legs are totally fine and healthy, aren’t they?”

The diner is silent, except for a steady series of footsteps echoing through the whole room and that series ends finally when the bell on the door rings, signalling that someone has left. 

“Nikolai…?”

Nikolai turns his head, finally seeing his blue angel after minutes of talking with an old creepy man. The sight of you is a real eye-cleanser and his heart flutters when he sees the confusion on your face that is only adding to your grace. 

“Are you angry with me?”

Now he is the confused one. “What? Where do you get that from?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s ‘cause you were like… don’t want me to talk to you or something earlier…” You say before you move to behind the bar again. You stand right in front of where Nikolai is seated. 

“No, I don’t mean it that way, love.” He says softly. “I stopped you because I didn’t want you to come to me when I was talking with that guy. Glad you actually didn’t approach me with a menu.” 

“Do you know him?” You ask. “He had been sitting here for about two hours or so. He was being creepy and I was… scared.”

Nikolai hums, resting his chin on his palm as he stares at your timid face. As if you notice his eyes are on you, you look up at him, giving him a smile which he gladly returns. “What did he talk to you about?”

“Mm… He was flirting. He tried to buy me a drink as well and he asked me if I live alone.”

“Uh-huh… And then what did you say?”

“I said I don’t live alone.”

Nikolai nods and sighs. “Good girl. That’s smart of you for saying that. It could be worse.” A sheepish smile crooks on your face before you give him a menu. 

“Anything to drink? I can do most of the drinks now! Vasily taught me.” You giggle. Nikolai is about to whine and protest at the mention of the name but hearing your giggle only makes him snicker to himself. He does not really want to drink anything but he proceeds to ask you to make him a hot latte anyway. You nod and take the cup that Elvir used hours ago and then stop. 

“Oh. Your friend did not pay…”

“He’s not my friend.”

“Who is he then?”

Nikolai rubs his lips, pondering. “He was my cellmate, back in prison. His name is Elvir.” He says. He wonders if he should tell you about Elvir’s involvement with your father—he does not want you to get scared to live by yourself. But he also does not want you to carelessly interact with people, although knowing that Olga’s place has an ‘extra protection’ from criminals who often make deals here. 

He watches you walk around, making a latte in precision. You do not seem to be clueless about any of these—which makes him wonder whether you have worked in a cafe as a barista before. He knows you have been taking small jobs ever since you were young to support yourself. Nikolai scoffs to himself a bit. He realises that you are more than capable of being independent but for many reasons, you surely love being pampered so much—by the man who kidnapped you, no less. 

“Here’s your coffee,” You say as you put a cup of hot latte in front of him. “Please give me fifty-percent tips.” You beam playfully. 

“Ha, you don’t demand tips, little dove. No tips, no tips, you already leeched off a lot from me.” He says before he puts down a couple crumpled cash notes on the table and the amount is certainly more than the price of the latte. “Here you go, love.” You take it and count it. 

“Do you want to donate to charity?” You attempt again. Nikolai is baffled but still very much entertained. 

“What fucking charity?”

“Orphans.”

He rolls his eyes, cackling under his breath as he waves his hand dismissively. Your little noise of victory is a melody to his ears as you register the exact amount of cash equal to the latte’s price and stuff the balance into your pocket. 

“Ah, but what about Elvir’s mocha?” You ask. “He asked for two too.”

“I ain’t paying for that,” Nikolai says before he sips his coffee. His eyes glance around the area, not finding Olga anywhere. She is in the kitchen, likely, because he hears faint gossip noises from there—old ladies’ activities, what is new? 

“Just hush hush about it.” You nod at his not-so-helpful suggestions and quickly go to wash the used cups at the sink. Nikolai just sits there, watching you intently. He is still thinking about whether to talk more about Elvir. He does not want to lie to you—he promised that many nights ago. Elvir is not from here and surely he has not a single clue on how things work with the underground world that exists in the shadow of this town. 

He calls for your name. You are surprised at his call for a moment but you make your way to his spot anyway. 

“Elvir works for loan sharks.” He states. “I don’t have any promise that he would not come back and it would be extremely dumb on his part to do that… but if you ever see him even when he does nothing more than just smile at you, you have to tell me.”

“Loan sharks…?” You mutter. “Is he…”

“Yes.” Nikolai firmly says. “Yes, he is exactly what you think. So if you ever see him, tell me. Do not tell anyone else other than me or Viktor. You can ask for a phone from Olga but still, it’s either me or Viktor. Is that clear?”

You say nothing, eyes lowered down. You bite your lips as you try to form a question amidst your agitation. “W-What is he planning to do with me? I mean, he surely will come back, right?”

“If he wants to be decapitated apart, yes,” Nikolai mumbles. He glances at you before sighing softly and offers his hand to you. You wordlessly put your hand on his, gripping it tightly, which he returns with little rubs of his thumb on your skin. 

“Don’t be scared, little dove. You are going to be fine. People here love you lots, you know?”

“Do you?”

Nikolai stays silent. 

“Do you… love me?“

You know I can’t answer that. 

Nikolai says nothing. Even with your pleading gaze upon him, he says nothing. Instead, he brings your hand to his lips. 

And kiss it. 

©cherikolya 2025 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated

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

stage fright..!!!!

Shadow milk cookie ✨