This Is So Good Omfgggggg - Blog Posts

TRASH SUGAR MAGIC

➛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 5: ᴅᴇꜱɪᴅᴇʀᴀᴛᴜᴍ

➛ nikolai gogol x fem!reader

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

➛ ao3 | spotify | main menu

Unknown place, many years ago.

The bus was late.

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

How lucky.

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

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

How do they even make friends?

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

The bus arrived.

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

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

Annoyance somehow was boiling in you.

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

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

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

“I'm back.”

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

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

Why do you always leave me alone?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The door slammed closed. Your lips quivered.

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

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

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

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

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

You did not even remember how and why she died.

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

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

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

Light.

You opened it—empty.

— ♡

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kolyushka?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it rewarding?”

“Depends.”

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

“Eating humans.”

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

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

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

Cute.

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

“I find it weird.” You suddenly say.

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

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

“Obviously.”

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

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

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

Friend.

“SHUT UP!”

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

But Nikolai is pale.

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

I thought I had abandoned it.

Guilt.

“I'm sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

— ♡

“Kolya, are you not going home?”

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

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

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

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

“Do you swing that way?”

“I swing in multiple ways.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He does not see you though.

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

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

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I am fucked.

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

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

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

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

— ♡

Beep! Beep! Beep!

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

“Good morning.”

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

“M'rning.”

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

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

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

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

Guilt. Again.

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

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

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

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

“I'm sorry too.”

“Hm?”

He wishes he was dead.

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

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

Nikolai does feel sorry.

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

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

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

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

“Uh… You didn't tie me last night…”

“I didn't?”

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

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

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

He says nothing and leaves you alone on the couch.

— ♡

“Is it good?”

“Decent. Can't beat Olga though.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry— I'm just… getting emotional.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Conflict.

Nikolai sometimes looks conflicted about things.

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Touch it, hold it, kiss it.

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

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

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

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

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

“Aren't we friends already?”

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

And he is also conflicted.

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

“Niko— Mmh!”

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

“Shh, shh, be nice, dolly. Be nice.”

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

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

But there it is—a syringe in his hand.

Where did he get that?

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

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

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

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

---

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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