Devotion

TRASH SUGAR MAGIC

➛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 9: ʏᴏᴜ, ꜱᴀɴᴄᴛᴜᴀʀʏ

➛ nikolai gogol x fem!reader

➛ mature content, fluff, angst, death, slice... of life | words: 7.8k

➛ ao3 | spotify | main menu | discord (18+)

Three days without talking to Viktor feels like a crime.

No news, no updates. 

Nikolai is slumped on the couch with the Eyes of God laptop at his side. The notebook on his lap is filled with scribbles of words and numbers. The hot mocha you made an hour ago has gone cold and the ashtray at his feet is filled with cigarettes. 

“Is he angry at me?” Nikolai mumbles to himself, lips pouting. His thumb has been hovering over the call button on Viktor’s contact page on the screen of his phone for five minutes now. He wants to talk to Viktor about your father but he does not have the courage to start the conversation. 

That night, he told Viktor that your father was near the border between Russia and Belarus. A clear attempt to flee the country alone, obviously. Viktor also told the middleman to the loan sharks about it and Nikolai wondered if anything had happened to your father yet. 

What if they caught the man? Will you still be used as a hostage, despite the many times you have said that you are useless to be used against your father? What if he does pay his debt? What will happen to you? Will you return to your home? Will you leave him? 

Nikolai is already uneasy. He has been uneasy for a while. He needs answers. He needs the events to happen right now. He does not think he has the patience to play the waiting game any longer. 

“Kolya…” 

Nikolai turns to the side and sees you holding a broom and leaning against the wall with a solemn expression. He frowns. He sees the broom you are holding. You are practically the unpaid maid of this house. Nikolai does not even know what the hell are you cleaning because he does not think his apartment is a big mess. But he just lets you do your own thing. Maybe sweeping bacteria is one of your favourite hobbies. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks. “What’s with that face, hm?” He says, surprisingly, a tint of gentleness is apparent in his voice that it even shocks him. 

You grumble something and put the broomstick against the wall before you approach him. Right at the other spot beside him, you plop down onto the couch. You tilt your head, resting it on his shoulder. 

“I’m bored…”

Nikolai blinks confusedly. For one reason, he is quite baffled by the sudden closeness but this is the girl who happily hugged his arm on the first day of her kidnapping. His bafflement does not last long. He is used to this. He is so used to this. 

“Well, what do you want me to do then?” Nikolai sighs. He watches your naughty hand trying to take the notebook off his lap in curiosity. Quickly, he slaps your hand away. “Hands off, dolly.”

“What are you scribbling? Mantra?”

“Mm-hm.” He just approves your wonder. You glance at him and then huff. Nikolai snorts, teasingly tugging your hair. “Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I’m just curious.” You sulk before pointing your finger at the page of the notebook. “Besides, I can’t even understand any of these! Anyone from afar will think you were trying to draw spaghetti.” You whine, poking your finger on the page. 

“Thanks for calling my handwriting ugly as fuck, darling. Appreciate that.” Nikolai grumbles before he seizes your hand and tosses it aside. “Even if I explain it to you, you won’t understand.”

“Does it have something to do with your Peters plan?” You ask and Nikolai silently nods. He closes the notebook before putting it aside. 

“How will you go there? By car?” You ask again as you lift your head from his shoulder. Nikolai sighs before he finishes the cold mocha he has abandoned for a while now. 

“Train. I’ll sell the car before leaving this city.” He replies. 

“And what about this house?”

“Sell it.”

“Your clothes?”

“Bring it along.”

“Viktor?”

“Mm, he doesn’t wanna go anywhere.”

“Me?”

Nikolai halts. He turns his head at you, staring with an unreadable gaze. And your eyes are returning that gaze with glimmering hope. His heart tickles and Nikolai quickly breaks contact with you, even placing his palm right on your eyes. “Hm?” You mumble adorably. 

“I’m thinking about it.” He replies shortly. Taking his hand off, he takes a glance at you. You are smiling now, soft lips curving up special just for him. He is silent for a moment. “You’re bored, dolly?”

You nod.

“Wanna go out to Olga’s?”

Your eyes beam sunshine immediately. Like bunny ears perked up in excitement, you jump slightly. “Out? We go out? Is that okay?”

Nikolai shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know. Police are doing police things. Aren’t you supposed to be excited that efforts are being made to save your ass?” He says.

“I like it here. I told you.”

“I know. You’ve been saying that for over a month now.” He mumbles. “I don’t even fathom what is actually happening. After I get you in here, everything goes to—” He swallows his word. No, that is not right. He does not think that way. It is just that his lips are quicker than his brain, sometimes. 

“You… You don’t actually hate me, right…?” You ask carefully. Hands clasped together, Nikolai notices that you are fiddling with your fingers—nervous, insecure, perhaps unsure. “I don’t think I can live with ease knowing that  you hate me.”

He purses his lips. “I don’t have a reason to hate you.” He says softly. His own fingers are now itching to be fiddled too as he can feel the nerves are touring every inch of his system. “I don’t…”

I don’t hate you. 

Nikolai takes a deep breath. “I don’t have a reason to.” He repeats again, despite knowing you surely heard his answer. Nothing to worry about, little bird. He is just trying to convince himself of something unknown. Something hidden. 

“Really?” You say before you chuckle lightly. “I appreciate that… You make me happy. You always do.”

“Mm-hm, I do, huh?” Nikolai replies, returning your smile as well. “Go get ready. I was planning to go to Olga’s diner anyway to get some dinner. We are already out of canned soup this noon.” He says. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Don’t call me that.”

“What? ‘Sir’?”

“Yeah. I don’t like it.”

You tilt your head. “Why?”

He clicks his tongue, pushing you by the shoulder lightly. “Reasons, okay? Go. And don’t wear that blue dress and get your makeup and stuff. I don’t want attention.” He orders. You huff—seeming to have planned to wear your beloved dress. But you know you have to obey anyway, so you dress yourself up in casual attire. 

Snatching one of his jackets, you leave the room, already seeing Nikolai waiting by the door. His outfit is simple. A black fitted turtleneck is perfectly copying the shape of his body. The high-waisted pants he wears only make him look like he is eighty-percent legs. Over his top, he wears a white leather jacket. 

You notice the extra sparkles on the jacket. Silver zippers, silver decorative chains, silver buttons. As he bends to wear his boots, you tug one of the chains curiously. 

“This looks very expensive for a jacket.” You remark. Nikolai stands straight and your hand slides down his back before it drops to your side. He looks at you with a smug smile.

“Stole it.”

“Huh?”

“I can do magic, remember?” He grins proudly before he steps out of the house, followed by you. After he locks the door, he slips his hand into his jacket and—magically—takes out a quite big ushanka hat. Wordlessly, he puts it on your head. 

“Just enough to hide your face.” He says, ignoring the confusion on your face as you see what he just did. Perhaps you are too puzzled by it that you start feeling the insides of the jacket you wore. 

“Don’t bother, dolly. It is only I who can do that.” He brags with a smirk before he grabs your arm and pulls you along. Your feet just follow his steps, despite you having to match his pace a little faster. Sometimes Nikolai likes to make big steps when walking and although you do not mind following him everywhere, you do prefer a relaxed walk. 

The journey to Olga’s diner only takes about ten minutes. As it is already dinnertime and the sun has drowned in the twilight horizon, night owls also come out. It is not rare for you to see the liveliness of the nightlife. Men and women mingle with each other as the television above the bar is broadcasting some sports event. Trailing Nikolai closely from behind, you two step inside, taking the table at the corner. The dark ambience of the diner manages to let your face slip—those who may recognize a missing girl might recognize someone else.

“Oh, hello, darling. Been a while.” Olga approaches your table, tickling your chin with an affectionate smile before she glances at Nikolai. “Hey, Kolya.”

Nikolai grunts. “What’s with that tone…” He murmurs. Olga huffs, placing her hand on her waist before tapping Nikolai’s head with the notepad she is holding. The thick part of the notepad hits Nikolai’s head hard, causing the man to even flinch. 

“You know what you did.”

“W-What I do?” He says, pouty. 

“Tell me why Viktor came here the other day, all sad and depressed because you’re angry at him.” Olga crosses her arms, glaring sternly at Nikolai. You look at each of them, enjoying the unprompted entertainment. 

“I’m not angry at him,” Nikolai mumbles. “He was just being stupid.”

“He was trying to be helpful, as your friend,” Olga replies. “You shouldn’t just shove people away like that. You two have been friends since forever. You don’t even have a lot of friends and colleagues and you are getting angry and grumpy over some drunk conversations.” She nags, shaking her head exasperatedly. 

Nikolai sighs. “Fine. I’m sorry, okay?”

“Don’t apologize to me. Go make up with Vitya himself.” She says. “Now, order.”

“As usual…” He mumbles, still sulky. 

“Uhm, I’ll take the mushroom and chicken pie. Ooh, and iced chocolate.” You grin at her. Olga nods before she stares at you.

“This boy doesn’t do anything weird to you, right?” Olga asks. “Vitya told me about your… situation. No wonder the police have been around the town lately.” She says as she peeks to the window. 

“Hm? Police are still searching in this town?” Nikolai’s head jerks up. Olga shrugs her shoulders. 

“Yesterday, none of them appeared. Probably have moved to other spots. Or they gave up. I mean, the police are corrupt anyway…” She explains. “Regardless, I don’t think this little lady right here wants to leave you, right, Kolya?” She cackles, glancing at you teasingly. You smile sheepishly, feeling heat travelling all over your face. 

“I really like it here…” You say. 

“This is a very strange turn of events for someone like him and someone like you.” Olga nods to herself. “But if you are really going to stick around, my restaurant happened to be in need of one more staff, you see. Not to mention, tonight is pretty busy and I don’t have enough hands!” She grins as she bends a little to be near your eye level. 

“Huh? O-Oh! Oh, are you…” You look at Nikolai who is just staring before you turn to Olga. “Are you offering me a job? Now?”

“No,” Nikolai sighs. “No, Olga… Olga, you crazy woman. I have important things to do with her! She’s not going to help you for this diner.” He protests as he glares at the lady with a sulky face. Olga only chuckles before she playfully messes with Nikolai’s hair. 

“I know, I know. But, if there is another strange turn of events, I don’t mind having an addition for my restaurant.” Olga says before she walks away to go to the kitchen. Your eyes trail her before you turn quickly to Nikolai. As soon as you open your lips, he covers your mouth with his hand. 

“No.”

Your nose scrunches before you grip his wrist and pull his hand away from your lips. “Why? It’s not like I do anything in the house? I don’t even know what I’m cleaning anymore.” You say, hand still gripping his. “Even the bacteria are getting cleaner. They don’t even need to shower but I showered them regardless…”

“You think I’ll allow you to walk around in this premise with chances of other bad people seeing your face? No way. You need to know, my love. This diner is not as innocent as it seems.” He says before he pulls his hand away from you and rests his elbow on the table. He props his chin on his palm. You cross your arms on the table, leaning forward. 

“What do you mean by that?”

“People exchange information here. Illegal information. By ‘people’, I really mean criminals. Olga often gets bribes or ‘hush money’ to keep her mouth shut. How do you think this diner is still maintained even with few customers?” Nikolai explains before he shuts his lips as a waiter comes to the table with your ordered drinks.

He waits for the waiter to leave before he looks at you again. “Look around you, little bird. There are too many people here. So… no, you’re not going to work here. Lowly criminals may get caught but a lot of experienced ones have broad networks, you see. Your face is most likely known for those who tune in to the news. What’s easier than kidnapping an already missing person and using them for other benefits, right?” He tells you. You purse your lips as you sadly stir your iced chocolate. It is just a simple drink with whipped cream and cherry on top. 

“Besides, I don’t want anyone to take you away. You still have a debt to pay, figuratively speaking.” Nikolai says before he steals the cherry from your drink. You whine, trying to stop his naughty hand but he already eats the whole fruit and puts back the small stem on your drink. 

You wince. “Nikolai! Why are you being mean?” You quickly pick out the stem, dropping it on the table. Nikolai only cackles playfully as he chews the cherry. His smile is smug, scoffing at your sulky face. 

“Relax, dolly. I’m the one paying so technically what’s yours is mine.” Nikolai grins as he picks up his hot tea, sipping it. He frowns slightly at the bitterness. His hand reaches out to the small bowl of sugar packets at the edge of the table but you quickly grab the bowl, pulling it away from him. 

“Hey, give that back.”

“Nope!”

You laugh, almost so proud at your little revenge. You put the bowl at the spot right next to you. Pointing at his hot tea, you say, “Why don’t you drink it, hm? Hmm?” You giggle. 

“Oh, I’m about to, sweetheart. Hold on.”

“What the—”

At that moment, Nikolai slips his hand inside his jacket and he takes out the exact same bowl of sugar packets from it. Deliberately and calmly, he tears open a few packets of sugar for his tea, as you watch, stunned. 

“What did I say to you, sweetheart? Tricks don’t work with me.” He snorts before he pushes the bowl of sugar packets towards you. “Now you can put it away as far as you want. I’ll just enjoy my sweet tea right here.” He chuckles before he sips the drink. 

“Hmph.”

You rest your chin on your palm, gazing at him. Irises trail all over his figure—scanning from his hair, white as snow, to his hands, big and rough. Your other hand creeps over to his hand, tracing your fingertips on his skin. As if it has a mind on its own, you glide your finger over the little pattern of tattoos that peeked out from his sleeve. 

“What, are you interested in getting a tattoo?” Nikolai suddenly asks. You halt, right when your finger is over his wrist. You look up at him before you shrug. 

“Seems scary.”

“The needles?”

You nod. “It pokes pokes pokes your skin, no? It bleeds you. But, I think it won’t hurt so much if it’s like… on certain parts of the body.”

Nikolai smirks. “Definitely. I guess if you are used to getting hurt on certain parts of your body, it doesn’t hurt much when tattooing the skin. For me, my arms only feel ticklish.” He says before he tilts his face, slyly grinning. “Maybe you should try one. On your face. It doesn’t hurt.”

“I guess it won’t hurt because my dad always hit me on it.”

“Fucking hell.”

— ♡

Mismatched eyes reflect the light from the screen of the television. People are in high spirits as the team they are cheering for is attempting another goal. Football is not something Nikolai tunes in. But there are times when his spirit also flows together with the people around him. People cheer and he will cheer too—even if he does not know who wins or loses. 

However, that is perhaps only applicable to the twenty-four-year-old him.

“Do you play sports?” 

He turns his head towards you. But your eyes are also fixated on the television, like everybody else. He wonders if you will even hear his answer because your question does sound like it is just a thought passing through like a breeze from the night air. “I supposed I don’t.” He says, his tone is just as careless as yours.

“Really? Then, how are you so strong?”

“Many reasons…” Nikolai mumbles, twirling his glass of vodka. His hot tea was already finished an hour ago. He finished eating way before you. “My tendency to get into fights in prison is probably one of the reasons too.”

“You fought in prison?” You finally pry your eyes away from the television, fixing your attention on him.

“I got bullied for the first few days…” Nikolai mumbles before he lets out a broken cackle. “But any man would tremble at the sight of a gun in front of their face. Unless they have the fangs of a tiger, then that is a different story. Well… a tiger can still be fought against with a falling telephone pole, so that’s that.” He says.

You tilt your head, confused. “You fought a tiger?”

“Not a literal tiger,” Nikolai snickers. “I think pure strength is not enough even for the strongest being in mankind. Creativity and versatility are important too. Strategies, plans, schemes… What’s scarier and stronger than a man who manipulates humanity to do his bidding while he sits back and enjoys the show from the crook of his library?” His eyes trail back to the television. “Even a sport requires strategies and manipulation, not pure stamina. Do you think the managers and those behind the players are not pulling the strings too?”

That’s why I must kill him.

“I mean, sport does have a long history of having bribe issues.” You murmur.

“That’s what I don’t understand either,” Nikolai nods to himself. “What’s fun with watching something that is most likely predetermined?”

“Not all sports are predetermined.”

“And not all are fair.”

You look away, staring at the table. Nikolai is also silent. He returns to watch the sport. Two players have fallen, and now one of them is going to protest at the yellow card. Next, arms open, provocation erupts to the stoic referee. The camera will pan to the spectators in the stadium. Some with hands on their head, some shout words and words that will only drown along with the cheers from the opposing team. Expectable, this show is too expectable—Nikolai sighs.

“Hey…”

Olga approaches your table again. This time, she looks visibly tired and worried. “I’m sorry for bringing this up again, but we really need a hand for tonight. One of my staff needs to go home because he has exams tomorrow. There are only three people in the kitchen, one at the bar and me.”

Nikolai frowns. Seriously? He does understand the circumstances but he could not find it in his heart to allow you to go and assist Olga for the restaurant, mainly because he does not want you to go roam around as a waitress, flaunting your pulchritude to the customers as you suggest them the most expensive food and drinks to order.

But your pleading eyes at him are certainly gleaming with hope right now.

Pinching his temple, Nikolai nods hesitantly. “Keep her in the kitchen only.”

Olga gasps and nods quickly. “Thanks a lot, Kolya.” She pecks his cheek appreciatively. “Her work is gonna be washing the dishes. You don’t mind that at all, right?” She asks you.

“No, I don’t! I’m a professional dishwasher.” You reply with a cheeky grin. As you stand up to follow Olga to the kitchen, you give Nikolai’s hand a squeeze and mouth ‘Thanks,’ to him. He just nudges his chin, shooing you. You giggle before you happily jog your way to the kitchen.

“Dummy.” Nikolai snickers, shaking his head as he checks his phone. It is past 10:30 PM and the diner will not close until twelve, he thinks. Or perhaps it will close when the sport has concluded. Because of the busy and crowded nights, your dinner time took two hours because you two also just lounging around in the diner watching the sport as well as he keeps ordering more vodka. He learns something new too—you eat later than usual when you are watching something, compared to when you only have him to stare and look at.

Bzzz!

As if the sender knows that  Nikolai is holding his phone right now, he receives a message—from someone he expects will not talk to him for another five business days.

Viktor: Hey, man. You busy?

Me: no. why

Viktor: Our marriage argument can wait. But I want you to come to Nastya’s studio now.

Me: now?

Viktor: Bitch, fucking read.

Me: can i go to the mart first? i need to get groceries

Viktor: Fine. But just come, alright? You must come. Tonight. Now.

Viktor: But go get your grocery first, fucker.

Nikolai gets up from his seat and gathers his belongings. He walks to the kitchen and wordlessly barges inside without caring for the strange look given by the bartender who is busy making drinks. He slips between the chefs and gets to you who is already washing cups and beer mugs.

He gently calls your name, poking your shoulder. You turn your head. “Oh! Hey, Kolya. Are you going to join me in this adventure of washing dishes?”

“Keep your talent in words, dolly. I need to leave for a moment. Viktor wants me to go to see him. But I might be late because I’ll stop by the mart to buy some groceries. You want anything?” He asks. You hum, thinking, as your hand is brushing the cup with a soapy sponge.

“Coco pops cereal, please.” You grin. Nikolai snickers as his hand cannot help staying still. He reaches to your cheek, playfully pinching it and shaking your face as he grits his teeth.

“Alright, you cheeky gold-digging girl.”

You whine and he lets go with a chuckle. “If the diner is closed, wait inside. I’m sure Olga won’t go home until I fetch you. And don’t run away— Gah, you know what, nevermind. You won’t leave me alone anyway.” He rambles as he turns around and leaves. You watch him disappear out of the kitchen and finally turn your focus to the dishes.

The lingering touch on your cheek still burns. You smile to yourself.

Your work increases tenfold when the clock strikes midnight. The sport that was broadcasted has concluded and the customers are leaving. You and two other staff are left along with Olga to clean the restaurant for closing. It seems that there are never-ending dirty dishes to wash.

“You okay?” Olga asks after you have not seen her for a while. “Come, you can stop washing the dishes. We have no need to rush to close the restaurant.” She says as she gestures to you to come to her. You leave the sink and wince at the sight of your strained arms. Your fingers are extremely wrinkled after being in the water for so long.

Once you are by Olga’s side, she takes out a clean napkin from her apron pocket and starts to gently wipe your wet arms. “You know, compared to Vasya and Alyosha, you don’t even complain about the amount of dishes you have to clean.” She says.

“I’m kinda used to it…” You smile before peeking out from the small window that allows the chefs and the staff outside to interact. You do not know which is which but one guy is sweeping the floor while the other is wiping the table. They do not even talk to you when you enter the kitchen other than changing a quick greeting upon seeing an addition to the team.

Olga smiles. “That one, who’s sweeping the floor is Vasily. His friend—or boyfriend, considering that they always spend time in Vasya’s bedroom like boyfriends would—is Aleksy.” She says as she continues to dry your fingertips and massage your arms gently.

“How do you know that?” You ask.

“Vasya rented a room in my house. He’s a university student near here. Worked here too for extra allowances and rent discount.”

Your eyes sparkle at the new information. Interested, you ask, “Oh, you are also a tenant?”

Olga chuckles and shakes her head. “No, not at all. I just have a vacant bedroom in my house. It belonged to my son.” She replies, Strangely, her tone lowers and her eyes droop darker at the last bits of her words. You notice the tone, certainly and you do not think talking about it is right at the moment. Vacant bedroom, belonged, son. There are only a few conclusions that can be drawn as long as the answer is not definitive.

“They are not trying to be cold towards you, you know? Both of them are introverts, compared to your… man. The younger version of him, that is.” Olga smiles before she reaches to your cheek, nudging your skin with her knuckle. “You’re flustered.”

“Uhm… He’s not my man.”

“Not yet.”

“Olga…!” You pout before she laughs. 

“I’m just joking,” She smiles, patting your head. “I love the guy, you know? He was a cheerful one and to be honest? Don’t tell this to Vitya, but Kolya is definitely more fun to tolerate.” She says. “But I love them both equally. Though, my life was much safer before I knew them.”

“Oh?” You look at her. “I am aware that your restaurant also does… not-so-good things… But did both of them cause you to involve yourself in such matters?” You ask carefully. Olga huffs and nods.

“They used to smuggle stuff. And my storage room was proven to be the best place to hide stuff, according to Kolya anyway. I don’t even get his logic. But, I guess words travel faster than light itself because one by one, suspicious people start to come here and pay me to keep quiet about their bad behaviour.” She explains. “I accept the money, of course. I cannot afford to let this diner be sold or discontinued.” 

You take a look around and you can see the traces of the past on the flakes, the rusts and the dirt. Old. Historic.

“This is my family’s restaurant. I’ve been working here since I was eleven. I cannot just simply leave this place. It holds nostalgia.” Olga says. Her eyes are vacant, staring ahead and yet towards nowhere. “If this restaurant is gone, I’m gone. And if I’m gone, nobody could take care of Vasya. That boy is not from this country and he travelled this far just to pursue his studies.”

She whispers, “My boy would do the same too, if he had the chance…”

“You’ve worked here for a long while…” You remark before looking down at your hands, fingertips grazing against each other, feeling the wrinkles from your yet-to-be-paid hard work. “I started working around your age too.” You tell her. “When I was… twelve? Thirteen? My first job was in a very small store in the neighbourhood. I was not really good at being a cashier, so my boss lady assigned me to arrange stock.”

“Oh? Was the job worth it?” Olga asks back, still smiling warmly at you.

“I wouldn’t say that but it was fun. I got to do things and meet many people from the neighbourhood and I… got to live my life out of my house…” You mumble. “I learnt a lot of things too.”

“I heard about what happened with your father. I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through.” Olga says, taking your hand and holding it tightly. “No kids should ever live a life like that. You deserve so much more, darling. You really do. Never stop being kind, alright? Kindness is so needed in this kind of place.”

“Thank you, Olga…” You smile at her.

Olga grins before she taps your shoulder. “Kolya does not seem to be coming back any sooner but I’ll wait until you’re safe and home with him. Vasya and Alyosha do not mind waiting too. I know they don’t have any schedule tomorrow.” She says before she bends a little to look at the two boys. You also take a peek. They are laughing at each other, seeming to have delight in the small world they created.

“They’re going to come back to the kitchen for other chores. Can you go and mop the floor?” Olga asks. You nod and ask for the mop and the bucket, which Olga shows you before she calls for the boys to come into the kitchen to help her. 

As you bring the mop and the bucket of soapy water to the dining area, you pass by both Vasily and Aleksy. They give you a smile and a nod before getting into the kitchen. Once again, you are left alone. You dip the mop in the water and start mopping. The channel on the television has changed to a midnight news channel, presumably by the bartender who left as soon as the cleaning started. You do not understand why the bartender and one of the kitchen staff left early but you want to try to assume the best—they probably have important work tomorrow.

Accompanied by the sound of the compiled news from the previous day coming from the television, you keep mopping under the table and the chairs. You keep stealing occasional glances at the outside world, trying to see if Nikolai is coming to get you or not. The snow is falling lightly, coating the earth with a layer of solitude.

You have been mopping for five minutes now and you finally stand straight, stretching yourself. You take a seat at one of the tables to rest. Your knees feel a little strained, probably because you have been standing for a while. Your eyes roam around the diner before they stop at the television screen. 

And then the world stops.

“A dead body was discovered in Mckinlay Motel at the Russian-Belarusian border…”

“A dead body was discovered in Mckinlay Motel at the Russian-Belarusian border…”

“A dead body was discovered in Mckinlay Motel at the Russian-Belarusian border…”

“A dead body was discovered in Mckinlay Motel at the Russian-Belarusian border…”

“A dead body was discovered in Mckinlay Motel at the Russian-Belarusian border…”

“Fuck.”

Hand on his face, Nikolai’s eyes are fixated on the news shown on Viktor’s laptop. His heart is beating fast as he digests every word uttered by the newsreader. Dead body, motel, a gun, Russian-Belarusian border, your last name, his blurred identity card, his blurred face, the zoomed-in footage on his hand showing his wedding ring—

“Suicide,” Viktor finally speaks and Nikolai deliberately turns to him. Viktor looks grim and agitated. His right leg cannot stop shaking as he stares at his lap. “He shot himself.”

“Are we entirely sure this is not pseudo-suicide? The loan sharks did not orchestrate this?” Nikolai asks before he swallows nervously. He does not realize how heavy his tongue feels when he tries to talk more about this. 

“No. No, I don’t think the loan sharks were aware of his… suicide. When this was first reported, the middleman even called me to confirm it. Which means… They did not participate in his suicide either. They want money, not a dead body.” Viktor explains before he sighs. “Fuck, fuck, everything is going to shit. It's all complicated now. Bloody hell…”

Nikolai purses his lips before he leans back. He is at a loss for words. Your father is dead. He shot himself. He was already at the border and he could leave anytime. He wonders why your father killed himself when the chance for freedom is right in front of him. 

An issue with the passport? Official document? Money? Was he blacklisted? Was he denied by the authorities? 

Hell, does any reason even matter now? Your father is dead and there is no way he is coming back to live to tell the tale of his suicide unless he can magically metamorphose himself into another body. He left you alone in this city and he left you alone in this world, forsaking you with his abundance of debt and problems. 

“Kolya… I’ve… I’ve been thinking for a while about this.” Viktor suddenly speaks. He buries his face into his palms, groaning foully into them. “How do I say this… You know, you’re not the only one who’s drunk that night. That night, after I fetched Nastya from your place, I felt jealous because she basically just got out of your place and it’s like—how dare you have my girl in your place but I know it was because of our agreement to have her look after your girl too.”

Nikolai frowns at his ramble. His eyes travel around the table and finally catch the sight of half-emptied vodka on it. Viktor—or Nastasya, considering they are in her office—has been drinking, perhaps. He is probably tipsy. 

“Anyway, anyway. When I saw Nastya, I noticed she had three nails polished with a light blue colour. Yeah, that’s your girl’s nail polish, maybe. Most likely. Defi-fucking-nitely. I told her to get rid of the colour because I know Nastya doesn’t like pastels. But she didn’t want to because that girl was too sweet to her. Nastya also said she would like to make hot chocolate just as how the girl taught her for me. And and and— fuck, Kolya… I know you’re smart and all, so can you tell me why I feel like this?” Viktor finally lifts his head, turning to Nikolai with his lips curled as if he is trying to pout—or was it even an attempt? 

Nikolai sighs. “Vik, we are talking about… her dad right now. Can we not talk about Nastasya or her?” He says. “Right now, her dad just killed himself and I’m pretty sure the loan sharks were on their way to pursue that man before the suicide too.”

“No, that’s exactly what I wanna say, Kolyushka!” Viktor exclaims. “I wasn’t thinking straight when I immediately reported her daddy’s coordinates to the middleman. As soon as you told me his whereabouts, my mind went zoom— Ah, I should tell them loan whales.”

“The fuck are you talking about—”

“I feel guilty, Kolya.”

Nikolai halts. 

Viktor inhales a sharp breath. “I feel guilty because I felt like I took away Nastya’s new friend. Zoya met her once and already wanted to fuck the girl. I think she’s cute too but not as cute as Nastya. And I took your happiness— Ahh! Why do I feel like this? I feel so… so fucking bad. She is just like any other victim we kidnapped and traded and sometimes killed. The only difference is that we did not spend over a month with them!”

Nikolai stares at his tipsy friend for a moment before he turns away. His eyes are fixed on the news again. This time, it is showing some interviews with witnesses from Mckinlay Motel. 

“We detected a very strange smell from the room.”

“We tried to knock but no one’s answering. Even the calls from the reception are not answered.”

“Yeah, no one around here has seen him. But he occasionally visited the convenience store. No, he did not buy a lot of things. Only a lot of cigarettes.”

“Viktor… What do you think of the loan sharks’ next move since their debtor is dead now?” Nikolai asks, voice slow and sullen, thundering deeply from his throat. Viktor sniffles before he sits straight. 

“He had a lot of debt with them. Ain’t no way they will simply let the money burn, especially with how much they have spent on trying to catch that bastard.” Viktor says. “They can probably sell his assets to make a profit but can it be enough to cover all the debt? All the expenses? Nobody even wants to rent that ugly house.”

“Certainly not,” Nikolai grumbles. “The debt may default but I don’t doubt the loan sharks will—for the lack of a better word—get revenge for all the expenditures he caused them.”

“Yeah. And one of his assets is his daughter. The girl. You know the mind of horrible criminals, Kolyushka. Money lenders or not, by law or not, this group is ultimately a crime syndicate. They’re going to get her for sure.” Viktor adds, sighing loudly as he throws his head back.

“Are you two going to let the loan sharks take her?”

Both Viktor and Nikolai look up to the door, seeing Nastasya leaning against the frame. Her eyes darken as she steps further into the room. 

“Hm?” She addresses the men again. “Let her be taken? Let her take responsibility for something she did not do? What do you think will happen to a young girl with no one left and nothing left?”

Nikolai’s eyes scan her, finding her knuckles turning white as she grips the edge of the table. 

“That’s why I feel guilty… At first, I wouldn’t be much, knowing she was going to be just a hostage or a bait. But now… It’s like something shifts.” Viktor mumbles. His brown irises trail up to his lover before the latter also share the same look—a sentiment that is unspoken but understood. 

“No…”

Nikolai finally gets up. He takes a quick look at his watch. 12:27 AM. The diner must be closed by now. You are probably waiting for him. 

“No, what?” Nastasya asks. 

“You guys want to keep her, then keep her. I’m going to Peters. I have more important things to do than babysit a child.” Nikolai says, firmly. His tone is hard and rough as he fixes his jacket. Viktor bolts up from his seat, grabbing his friend’s arm. 

“Are you serious? You’re gonna give her if the loan sharks ask for her? She’s gonna get trafficked!” 

“Let me go.”

“Answer me, fucking coward.”

Nikolai yanks his arm away from Viktor’s grip. “I’m not gonna dwell in guilt like you, Pavlovsky.”

With that, Nikolai walks out of the studio, making haste of his steps towards his car. He enters it and starts the engine. The radio is not even on, he does not bother to do it as he drives to Olga’s diner—fast. The car runs through the falling snow that illuminates the night sky and the street lights. The world has gone quiet and will only go quieter as the hours pass. 

But his mind is never quiet. Each thought produces a monster, standing by to devour his head. Words from the news are buzzing in his ears like flies, and Nikolai worries that all of those monstrous thoughts and buzzing words are leading to one person. 

Oh, you… 

Nikolai is not sure whether you saw the news or not. He hopes you did not. The television in Olga’s place was dominated by a sports channel, no? It was on with sports and shall be off with sports. If you are aware of what happened to your father, he will be quiet. If you are not, he will be quiet too. He will keep his mouth shut about it, silence just like the winter night. 

Any mention of this will rigorously affect his plan to leave this town. 

Although, deep down, Nikolai knows, his plan to leave is already plagued with doubts and worries. 

He arrives at the diner in less than the expected time. Usually, it takes about fifteen minutes from VIY Studio to Olga’s place but due to the lack of people and cars on the street, especially at the hour, he manages to arrive in just ten. 

The diner is already dark. The light on the signboard is off, as well as the inviting ‘OPEN’ neon at the window. From the outside, the dining area is totally sombre. There is only the white light from the kitchen area, which is visible through the small window connecting the bar and the kitchen. 

Nikolai steps to the door—unlocked. He pushes it open and it rings. Two boys who are slumped at a table woke up from their sleep upon hearing the ring. Nikolai recognises them, but he doubts that they recognise him. 

“Where’s Olga?” He asks one of them. One of the boys, shy and timid, points at the door leading to the kitchen. Nikolai nods, mumbling half-hearted thanks as he steps towards the kitchen. He enters it, finding Olga is cleaning the stove. 

“Olga,” Nikolai calls and she turns. Her eyes widen and a tint of panic waves over her face. 

“Kolya, oh my God, you’re here.” She says as she rushes to him. Nikolai frowns, ignoring the old lady as he scans the whole kitchen area, trying to find you. The panic in her voice raises concern over his heart—once again, reacting to bad thoughts flooding his mind by hastening its beating. 

“She’s been in the toilet for a moment now. Told me she got a stomach ache and she needed time. Can you go and check her?”

His sixth sense tells him that there is no stomach ache. 

Reluctant yet feeling compelled to go, Nikolai nods. He makes his way to the toilet area. Two wooden doors—one for female and one for male. He approaches the one with the female symbol, knocking it a few times. 

He calls your name. 

No answer. 

Sniffles, yes. He does hear sniffles. 

He calls for you again, this time a little firmer. Knocks again. 

“S-Sorry, I need time…” Your muffled voice responds back. “Kolya…? C-Can you wait outside? I-I’ll see y-you outside…”

Nikolai stays still in front of the door, staring at the fake carving on the wood. He hangs his head low as his eyes stare blankly at his knuckles. “… I am outside. Not going anywhere.” He says. 

“… I’m not going anywhere.” He says again. 

Silence. Just as he wishes. Yes, you know about your father, that is crystal clear and obvious. And he prays that this silence will be forever—your father’s death shall never be mentioned, never be thought about. 

The fiddling noise of the lock breaks Nikolai’s focus on his hand. The door is pulled from the inside, open. 

“N-Nikolai…” Your glassy eyes gape at him, surprised. Your lips tremble as they try to crook for a smile. One attempt, two attempts and you finally manage to force one—unnatural and uncanny. “You’re b-back from Viktor.”

The air is tightening, choking his words from leaving his mouth. Hesitation—he can feel the heaviness in his heart to even reply to you. But for the sake of clearing the awkwardness, he nods. “Y-Yeah, I did. Come on.”

He turns around and walks off. He does not even know whether you are following him or not, for his gaze is only on his car in front of the premise. He leaves the diner first and once his boots step on the pavement, he realizes he is alone. He does not hear yours behind him. 

Nikolai takes a deep breath and faces up. He huffs slowly and the cold air trails out of his orifices. Heaviness is still lingering in his heart, despite he is alone out in the world. When he hears slow footsteps approaching him, the heaviness grows more, taking over his insides. With such a burden, he turns his head around, only to see you walking towards him with a gloomy gaze on the ground. 

One of your arms is hugging the ushanka you have taken off earlier. Without any word, Nikolai offers his hand and you—sensibly—put the ushanka on his hand. He then opens his jacket, slipping the big hat into the unknown. 

The baby blue girl who would often cheer at the tiniest sight of his ability is only carrying a deeper shade of blue right now. 

You are just standing there, so lost in thoughts that the glimmers in your eyes are lost too. The smile you once forced back at the toilet is not even trying to attempt anymore. Delight has flipped itself over, overcasting you with misery. 

“Hey.”

“Nikolai…” You finally speak. Your fingers clutch at your sides, fiddling with the fabric of your clothes. Then, accompanied by a quivering breath and hoarse voice, you ask;

“Can I have a hug?” 

Nikolai is silent. Oh, he really does wish to be silent. But wishes rarely ever come true. 

“Uhm…” He knows it—you want to be touched, to be held. You wish for solace and comfort. But Nikolai does not want it. If his wish to be silent cannot come true, yours cannot either. 

His eyes are everywhere but you. However, his body does turn towards you. His hand does reach out to you and with the most awkward voice he can muster, he offers, “How about we just shake hands?”

You stare at his hand. You nod. “Okay.”

You grab a hold of his hand before you slowly pull him and push yourself to the centre—closer. Nikolai’s body too moves on its own, subjecting itself to your whims. Your arms around his body as you bury yourself deeper into his warmth. 

And he embraces. 

His arms around yours, warmer and tighter. Your face against his chest and his face against your head, lips touch your skin briefly. One of his hands trails up, cupping the back of your neck as he caresses gently. And you let go. The cries and the sobs—you pour out to him and as he wishes, he stays silent and accepts it. 

“My dad’s dead, Kolya…”

Sniffles.

“I don’t know what to do…”

Hiccups. 

“I don’t have anyone left…”

You hug him tighter, and you press your cries harder against his chest. 

“Please don’t leave me too…”

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

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

Here me out!

Single Zaddy Nikolai at beach 👀

I can picture him splashing along with the Gogolings and playing with them! Oh and not to mention him building sandcastles with them!

How cute ~\(≧▽≦)/~

𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙙!𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝

notes ✥ planned this to be cute but it went y/n had a "what eye is his colour" moment lmao this is unproofread/unedited!

contents ✥ mild fluff, suggestive, oc kids aka the gogolings (yuri, mari, karol), fem!reader, age differences what's new

You’re just chilling under your umbrella, sipping the strawberry lemonade you ordered from the bar. It’s a one in a million chance for you to have a solo vacation like this—nice resort, nice beach, nice spa. 

You fix your sunglasses and your bikini as your eyes wander around the beach. There are not so many people today—many surfers though. From under this umbrella, you can watch almost everyone. You see a kid building a sand castle near the beach. You see a father teaching his son how to float in the sea—couldn’t he pick a better place, atleast? Like a pool?

But it is not his unorthodox teaching method that picks your interest. That man is incredibly fine. You have been stealing glances at him for a while now. He has three kids along with him. Probably his own. When he first entered your view, his white braided hair was the first thing that caught your eyes. And then the second thing was how his back muscles look like when he carried his daughter with one arm. The third thing you noticed was how playful he gets when it comes to his children. He built some sandcastles together with his daughter and son—the short one, he has two sons.

He is also tall. His shoulders are broad and his body is finely shaped. Sometimes you find yourself leering your eyes downwards… to where your mind wanders elsewhere but you immediately distract yourself. It is inappropriate to check out a gorgeous man like that—what if he's married?

He probably is married. A father with three sons? Yeah, most likely. 

“Hey, lady.”

You turn to your side, seeing a boy standing beside your chair. Eyes widen as you notice that the boy is actually one of the man’s sons. This boy was the sandcastle builder before he roamed somewhere on his own. 

“Hi, little guy.” You greet him back. The boy looks at you and points at your lemonade. 

“I want a taste.” He says casually as his arm reaches out to your glass. You quickly pull back, putting the glass on the armrest. 

“No, no. This is… uh, not suitable for you.” You say. The boy pouts. 

“Whaaa, why not?” He whines.

“It’s alcoholic.”

“Hmph! You and daddy say the same thing! Kolic kolic!” The boy grumbles cutely. You are usually annoyed at any kids who disturb you but this boy certainly has a charm to him—he is still a little annoying though. 

“Maybe you ask your daddy if you want to have some drinks.”

God, the way you refer to that man as ‘daddy’ certainly gives you an itch—that feels quite fluttering. 

“Can you ask daddy for me, pleasheee?” The boy pouts and shakes your arm. “My daddy is… uh… nice! And handchum.”

“Handsome, huh? I can see that.” You smile. “But he’d be more likely to listen to you than a random woman like me, no?”

“Mmm, I dunno. Daddy is confusing sometimes…”

You chuckle, holding yourself back from ruffling the little guy’s hair. He does look similar to his dad, like a mini-version of him. The boy shakes your hand again. “Lady, lady, do you wanna build a sandcastle with me?”

“H-Huh?”

You think that little guy has some kind of mind control power. Before you realize it, you are halfway building a sandcastle with him and his sister. You learned that his name is Karol—he said ‘Kawol’ but his sister corrected it—and she is Mari. You do not dare to ask about their mother, but there is certainly something about how Mari is excitedly clinging to you. 

“I don’t have girls in the house,” Mari says as she decorates her sandcastle with random seashells from the beach. “Daddy always plays with me, but he is daddy and not mummy.” 

“But daddy does his best, isn't he?” You reply carefully, not wanting to step into some deeply personal stuff. Mari hums and nods. 

“My daddy is the best!” She giggles. “Right, daddy?”

Just then, a shadow looms over you and you almost shriek as you look over your shoulder. It’s him. The man. Your eyes are trying hard to roam everywhere but fixate at him. God, he looks much bigger up close—thighs—he is so tall than I expected—chest—his eyes are pretty. 

Your mind is jumbled as you try to form a word. How strange it is for him to see a random woman playing with his two kids. You don't want him to think of you as a potential kidnapper, god damn it! You quickly get on your feet, standing by his side—and only then your eyes are on the same level of his (kissable) collarbone.

“Hi, there. Were my kids entertaining you so much?” He starts first. His tone is playful and teasing, but friendly. He grins. “I’m Nikolai. You?”

You nervously say your name, smiling sheepishly. “Uh… your son, Karol, asked me to play together… so, I, uh…”

He cackles—his voice is heavenly, thundering butterflies in your stomach. “Is that so? He is a friendly little dude. Since you came with him, I take it he wasn’t being annoying?”

“Not at all, sir.”

Nikolai waves his hand dismissively. “Oh, sweetheart. No need for formality. You’re making me feel old!” He pouts—and he is probably in his mid to late 30s to be looking so adorable. He bends, just enough to reach Mari and ruffle her hair. Just then, you realise another one of his kids is sitting beside Mari, eyes scrutinising you. You awkwardly smile at him. Mari is rambling to his brother, and you heard Mari call him ‘Yurochka’. Maybe he is a quiet one. 

Nikolai chuckles as he pats her head. “Were you having fun, little dove?” He asks. Mari nods happily and gives him a big seashell from her collection. Nikolai takes it and shows it to you with a boyish grin on his face. But that grin turns into a tiny smirk when his eyes leer over your body. 

The heaviness tugs again in your stomach and you feel like your thighs are quivering. 

This won’t do. This man is definitely much older than you—he has three kids who are all beyond toddler age! 

“Uhm, I-I think I should go… It’s been fun spending some time with the kids, N-Nikolai.” You say. Nikolai blinks confusedly at first before he smiles. 

“I should be thanking you, sweetheart. I’m pretty sure they had fun—”

“Incominggg!” 

“Woah!” You yelp when Karol suddenly barges between Nikolai’s and your legs. He is small but his energy is high and enough for you to stumble on your footings. In that tiny window of milliseconds, you are about to accept the embarrassment of falling like a fool in front of a handsome guy but suddenly, you feel your body being grasped tightly from behind. 

You open your eyes wide and your heart cannot be much faster. His strong arm is wrapped around your waist and you are already gripping his arm like your life depended on it. You feel your back is against his firm chest and your bum is brushing closely against his waist. 

Maybe falling face down onto the sand is better. 

“You okay, love?”

You tilt your head upward—and maybe that is a bad decision—and see Nikolai’s face close to your proximity. His eyebrow is jerked upward but then he chuckles deeply before he smirks. He says nothing but you feel a squeeze on the side of your tummy, exactly where his hand is placed. 

“Haa—!” Your breath hitches and you step away. You want to say sorry but what is there to apologise for when it feels good? 

Flustered and embarrassed, you stammer, “I-I must go! Have fun with the kids, sir!” You turn around and quickly walk off, needing some time alone to calm your heart. But you catch his last words at you. 

“Bye, bye! See you around, sweetheart.”

It sounds like a promise and you wish it is. 

©doukeshi-kun 2025 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @/cherikolya

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

(Hoping this ask doesn’t get buried or eaten oop—)

First of all, I just wanted to say that I absolutely adore your art! I was already leaning towards having PureShadow be my new favorite ship, but seeing all the wonderful art you’ve made for it sealed my fate lol. Love these two fools and I can’t wait to see them make each other worse better :3

Secondly, if you’re still doing requests, could you do smthn with Shadow Milk being genuinely flustered by Pure Vanilla? Like SM acts all “Ohhh I must be your favorite cookie! You think I’m sososo pretty!” and PV hits him with the “u rite,” completely catching him off guard

If you’re too overwhelmed by art requests, feel free to just write about this instead! Either way I hope you take good care of yourself and you have a great day! ^w^

Some study work

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

RECEIVERS。dad!nikolai gogol x mama fem!reader

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

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

PRICE。approx. 3.6k

FREEGIFT。say yes to heaven (lana del rey)

MAIN MENU。FOUR SHADES OF PINK

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A red lips stain his skin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kolya?” you call.

“Hm?”

“Are you nervous?”

A few seconds of silence.

“Just a little.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What game?” he asks.

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

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

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

Nikolai pouts. “Don't say that,”

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nnn. . . Ni— Kaw. . . wol,”

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

“Mam. . . Mama,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aww, you draw us?” Nikolai coos.

“Mama,” Yuri points to a stickman.

“Mmm... ugly.”

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

“Papa.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yuri blinks confused.

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

“I want to propose.”

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

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

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

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

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

― ♡

You arrive at home later than you expected.

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

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

“I'm home,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmm, that's a surprise.”

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

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

“He called me 'Papa'.”

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

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

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

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

“I'm happy for you.”

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

He's doubting again.

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

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

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

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

“Marry me.”

You freeze. And Nikolai too.

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

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

“I . . . I-I mean—”

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

“Marry me, love.”

“Yes. . . !”

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

“I'm so happy. . .”

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

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

Nikolai does not regret it one bit.

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

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

Just in a home, shared by two hearts.

happy wedding night...!

o i i a o i i a

He knows his place.

draw a doodle of dad kolya, in pajamas or something like that, anything from him 💕

Oh yeah, night time bed stories with papa Kolya

Personally, one of my favorite aus, but I’m just a sucker for turning any character into a dad 👨

The Gogoling babies belong to @doukeshi-kun. Lil munchkins

y/n and shadow milk cookie but they're ✨️ married ✨️

Yes.