big marred russian man nikto calling you his Pelmen because you just took the hottest shower known on earth, if he doesn’t laugh about it he’ll cry. Does not understand why it has to be so hot so to him, you’re like a… well, a dumpling.
To the surprise of nobody, you and Nikto eventually became official (Krueger got so much money from the bets the other operators had on you two). You could finally say that you're spending some time with your grumpy boyfriend... And his strange companion. After the initial shock of Sputnik not being a normal dog, he grew on you. You cared about the hyena just as much as you cared about his owner. Sometimes you gotta kick Sputnik out of the room for some alone time, but most of the time he's chilling on the floor next to the bed or laying on the foot of the bed.
Sputnik got used to you as well, probably sooner than it took you to get used to him. It clicked in his head that Nikto cares for and trusts you, so he does everything to keep you safe. Also, he appreciates the food you sneak to him during breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He's a bit attached now, and he's your shadow as much as he is Nikto's.
When Sputnik picked up on your morning routine with Nikto, he got a little... Jealous. Every morning you woke up just a little bit before Nikto, taking the time to kiss him so as to not wake him. Gentle kisses all over his face, hands, shoulders... So one morning Sputnik leapt onto the bed and barreled into you in the middle of peppering Nikto in tiny kisses.
Cue the puppy eyes and demanding yips, as well as Nikto bolting upright and swearing.
Sputnik demands tiny kisses and all of the love. And pets, lots of pets
Nikto who used to have a love language such as physical contact before he joined the military and hardened his personality and skin.
He knew nowadays that the callouses and cuts on his hands made it uncomfortable when he touched you, as the open skin from his scarred hands would scratch you. You couldn't tell him how nice his hands were. Big, thick, and warm to the touch.
Nikto loves when you allow him to randomly grab at your flesh to squeeze and hold. The skin on your body was so soothing to him, so untouched and graceful in its glory. The muscle was undefined, but he could feel it. Big hands can feel a lot, he says.
He spends his time away from you wishing he could get a sliver of your warmth, to feel you and to keep the confirmation that you're real and that you exist, not just another addition to his twisted mind.
Nikto often uses his expression to get your attention while you're doing things. You're doing a hobby you enjoy? He'll probably start randomly tugging at your clothes or poking random parts of you, even resorting as to flop himself on you for some physical affection like kissing or cuddles.
He's not picky. A touch-starved man like him just wants what he knows he deserves, no matter the amount. He's desperate to have you praise his body with your fingers, to caress his scars and leave a trail of admiration and appreciation in their wake.
During this time, he also likes to become more like his shier alters. The one that lacks his usual bark, often being more shy and timid but cuddly and sweet. They only talk in Russian, but you've heard him speak in his language so many times that you could translate enough.
"Никаких объятий? (No hugs?)" He asks, snuggling up to you while you watched something on the screen of the television.
You could only comply, adjusting so Nikto's heavy body could rest atop you for some deserved cuddles. After all, he knows he's been good and that he deserves a bit of care. A man like him, he wants what he wants even in all his different states.
You couldn't tell him that you liked this alter of him more than his original one.
Gender Neutral Reader, no mentions of gender at all.
No use of Y/N
Fluff. I cannot stand anything but fluff 😔
When Nikto admitted he was married, most of the team didn't know what to think. No one was sure Nikto would be a good husband, nor that his spouse was in the relationship willingly. Nikto did mention something being arranged, it wasn't completely out of the picture.
So one could imagine the shock the team felt when they found Nikto bending down slightly to be closer to someone's face. That someone being none other than his spouse.
You had your hand on his arm, he didn't pull away. As you spoke his whole attention was on you, only you. His eyes were intense as they gazed into every crevice of your being. He examined your face, new stress lines that showed up, the furrow in your brows, the crinkles near your eyes. He saw it all, kept tabs on it all, made sure any deviation from the status quo was for good, not bad.
You kept speaking, he listened. Soon your hand trailed down his arm, taking his hand and lacing your fingers together. He leaned in ever so slightly, squeezing your hand.
He leans in and presses his mask against your cheek. Most would call it a pathetic excuse for a kiss, he's just nuzzling fabric against your face like a mutt. But it was from him, and that made it special. It was more than the team had ever seen from him before.
When the two of you eventually pull away you flash him one last smile. His eyes crinkle, something akin to crows feet start to develop by his eyes. He'd probably never have crow's feet without you, you've changed him in ways he couldn't have predicted. As you step away your hands linger connected. As you continue walking away, he makes sure to watch until you're completely out of sight.
It's safe to say Nikto has been perceived as more approachable since the team caught him being so husband-like with you. He got teased more often, but since it was about you, he'd just dismiss it with a grunt. He'd never admit it, but any mention of you, even a passing moment, were welcome and appreciated in Nikto's life.
Nikto had in general turns much calmer, more relaxed. His episodes were starting to get easier to get over, he's been keeping up with his habits and hygiene better. When he'd come home he'd seek you out first, but now it wasn't because you helped him stay sane, stay managed. You just made it easier.
He's becoming better now, more human now, he'd say. He's not constantly berating himself for "evil" thoughts, he's getting them less and less. The voices are quieter, and they're starting to work together as a unit. Nikto knows for sure that every version of himself in his head loves you completely. He has no doubt that the two of you were made for one another.
Nikto hadn't ever believed in soulmates. For some part of his life he doubted love was even real. You were forced into his life when he felt he could have nothing and to this day he thanked whatever deities you believed in that they put you in his life.
Now he's not forced to take leaves from work, he plans them around the holidays, anniversaries, and your birthday. Recently, after you insisted, he started taking leave on his birthday too. It was something worth celebrating now, even if it's just to see how giddy you get as he opens the gift you got him.
Whatever resembles a smile, he does it now. When he comes home, when he zones out and thinks of you, when you randomly bring him lunch. He knows it's a long trip for you, and yet you still insist to come. Your lunches taste like heaven compared to the base kitchen, Nikto feels his chest tighten every time he thinks about it.
You make him soft, not just your cooking but how you treat him too. Anytime you reach out first he leans in. At first he'd feel guilty he wasn't the first to touch you, he felt like you put so much effort into being close, and anytime you touched him first it meant he failed at meeting your effort. Eventually he'd learned to give effort in other ways, and your touches felt better to receive.
It has turned his attempts at affection rough and not calculated whenever he'd reach out. He'd grab your arm roughly to pull you closer, afraid you'll bump into something 5 feet away. He'd bump his head into yours, the harder he did the more he was sure it meant something. You scolded him for rattling your brains like that, but it was only after you assured him that you felt it each time did he turn gentler with it.
Nikto's affection is quiet, he almost never speaks praise or compliments. He stares at you all the time, that's as close to a compliment that he can give you. He leaves notes and gifts all around the house, in fact.
"the soup was really good" he'd write in his scratchy handwriting, the pencil being too delicate for his rough hand.
"The new curtains are nice." he'd add, sticking the sticky note right on the clean new curtains. Sticky notes were everywhere, little gems of appreciation. You wondered if he'd only communicate by writing if he could, but he didn't. Executive matters like visits to the grocery store were met with annoyed eye rolls and a "fine, whatever. Don't take too long" as he already gathers his keys and wallet, throws on the jacket he always wears because you got it for him.
In the grocery store he'd hold your hand tight, almost too tight. Near the freezers he'd make sure you're not too cold, he carries the grocery basket, he pays for the groceries on the condition that you talk to the cashier, and he'd make sure to sneak in the treat you've been eyeing. It used to be impossible for Nikto to grocery shop, he was too awkward to talk to the cashier despite the rehearsed script in his head, he kept scaring other shoppers. He'd glare at anyone who annoyed him.
But now he had the prettiest spouse to keep by his side, to negate the terror he'd cause. You'd give him little kisses in public, you'd gush over any pets you saw, you'd hold up your favorite foods with excitement, and Nikto would do nothing besides observe you, and smile under his mask.
He wondered if you knew how much his life had improved since you were shoved into it.
Waking up settled on top of nikto after an unexpected nap on the livingroom floor whilst folding the laundry, strands of hair in your mouth, crease-marks from his crumbled shirt indented in your precious face, and a thin line of drool seeping down your chin.
Nikto looks just as disheveled- you both blink hazily at one another as he swipes a gentle hand over your face, brushing your hair away that's sticking to your face. His back does not ache- the sunlit carpeted flooring heaven compared to what it has endured in the past.
Blink.
Blink.
Only to slump into each again- your face nestled against his chest, and his hand cradling the nape of your neck with the expanse of his warm rough hand. The thought of getting up mutually thrown away.
his lover asked him “since I’m not allowed to wear pants, can you get me a soft warm blanket hoodie for me?” She begs him for one! Nikto agrees.
a very rare compromise that Nikto can agree with her!
After being good to him for so long, he can't help agreeing. It was such a small request and technically wasn't against his rules. Besides, the way you were cuddling up against him, shaking from the cold, also played a hand in his agreement. He didn't want you to get sick now that winter was approaching.
So, he went to the nearest store and bought what you had been asking for. He would have ordered online to delay the awkward interaction with the store employee, but he also had no idea how to do that.
You had almost thought your request had been ignored since he had waited a while to get one for you (he was actually just waiting for the shipment to come in since the store last time was all out) but randomly, he came home with the fluffiest thing in his arms. You almost burst out laughing at the sight of him.
Your kidnapper, the terrifying war machine, walking up to you and presenting a pretty pink gift. He had gotten your hoodie in pink. You bit back a smile.
He didn't make small talk. Instead, he pointed to your arms, then gestured with his hand.
"Up."
You lifted your hands above your head without protest. He easily pulled up the shirt you were wearing, tossing it to the side. His eyes flicked over your body once, not hungrily, just observing. Then he pulled the fuzzy hoodie over your head.
It was a pretty underwhelming fashion show, but Nikto didn't mind. In fact, he loved it more than any of that gaudy lingerie he had seen at the store. You looked so soft in that fluffy thing, it was practically swallowing you whole. While Nikto never particularly cared for what you wore, usually preferring to see your bare skin, he had to admit, he liked this.
You seemed content, doing a little spin before asking, "What do you think?"
And maybe he smiled a little. As much as he could, really. Scarred flesh stretching uncomfortably across his face. "It is good."
That night he once again let you fall asleep in his arms, his twisted fingers carding through your hair, begrudgingly admitting to himself that the hoodie was soft enough that he just might have to get himself one, too.
Tags: Adopted!Teen!GN!user and Dad!Nikto, pure fluff, short
A/N: I made this just because I wanna call him in a certain way. You will see.
A little OOC for Nikto but almost all fan fiction is like that...
!!!User is a non-Russian speaker!!! ((I'm not Russian either so any ounce of Russian spoken is Google Translated))
He didn't really know how it came to this but.. here he is, cooking dinner for some teenager he found on the side of the road one day and decided to adopt, literally.
He huffs, rubbing his disfigured face as he finally finishes making the Solyanka and filling up two bowls for you and him. He has gotten used to not wearing his mask around you but he's still afraid of the thought that you might secretly feel disgusted by his face, though.. he won't let that thought linger for long.
"Ужин-" he pauses, remembering you don't speak Russian. "Dinner's ready, kid!" he calls and he immediately hears the small shuffle of feet and soft thuds as you rush down the stairs.
"What are we having?" you smile and sit down happily at the table.
Nikto smiles softly and looks down at the bowls.
"It's called Solyanka. It's a thick, piquant soup." He explains "It's... often served in the mornings, to help with hangovers, but who cares?" he smiles at you, his disfigured features somehow soft, and you smile back.
"You know I'm trying to give up drinking." you joke, and take a sip. You pause.
"Oh my God." you cover your mouth.
Nikto is unsure what to do now.
"Что? Is it bad? Does it need more lemon? Or more black pepper? We made sure to follow our mother's recipe exactly as it said." Nikto starts to explain.
You pause a little, confusion showing on your face when he refers to himself as "we" but you remeber immediately why.
"No, no. This is.. this is amazing." you clarify.
"Кто-то, this soup is amazing." you say before you start to eat the soup like you haven't eaten in months.
Nikto smiles and sighs. "I'm glad you-" he pauses, realizing what you called him.
He takes a deep breath.
"What did you call me?" he asks slowly and you look at him, a little sheepish.
"Uhm.. кто-то. Since.. since you like to be called Nikto but.." you put the spoon down "but you're not a nobody! You're someone to me! You're my dad! And.. and I don't like calling you a nobody." you explain yourself.
You look at Nikto and you swear you could see tears forming in his eyes.
"Come here kid, come hug кто-то." He says with a smile as he opens his arms wide. You giggle and run into his arms, hugging him tight.
Nikto x GN!Reader (who needs to let out a bit of steam)
Warnings: reader beats a creep up, blood mentioned but not in detail i think, patching up wounds
I already have a part two in mind with reversed roles!!
I don't really think that Nikto’s accent changes much about how he speaks (that and I don't really like writing accents with specific word changes other than like slurring words together) but I tried to change his speech pattern a bit so it seems more accurate? Idk I think I made him just sound more formal.
Also I know that Krueger isn’t in KorTac but lets imagine for a second he is I like the Nikto Krueger duo
Noise buzzes all around as glasses clink against sticky tabletops and people shuffle around one another. Soldiers made up most of the noise as most of the KorTac operators were rowdy with the success of their most recent mission. It had been long -- and rather daunting -- but everyone came out with mostly everything in one piece.
Nikto sat in a booth with Krueger, König, and Horangi, the usual bunch to be found off to the side during one of these after-mission bar nights. Krueger was going on about a close call he had, occasionally taking a swig from the beer bottle in his hand before continuing to rave to an uninterested König and Horangi, who wasn't even listening at this point. It gets to the point where Horangi sighs, and as he starts to pull out a deck of cards, Nikto slides out of the booth.
“I almost forgot you were there, Bruder.” A sly smirk tugs its way onto his face, taking another drink as he leans forward onto the table.
“You talk too much.” Nikto rasps, waving a hand dismissively at Horangi holding up a card, silently asking if he was joining in or not.
Nikto begins walking to the back exit, ignoring whatever Krueger had shouted to him while he left. He shoulders the door open, grabbing a cigarette from the box in his pocket. The door slowly shuts and he’s about to undo the clasps holding his mask up but pauses when he realizes there's other people in this alley.
He narrows his eyes, watching the two standing off to the side. Neither had noticed him yet, so it gave him a clear opportunity to assess what the hell was happening.
There was a man cornering someone against a wall and definitely not with good intentions. Nikto couldn't make out most of what he was saying from where he stood, but it was obvious he was drunk. The person being kept against the wall glared at him hard, pushing against the man to keep his hands from wandering anywhere near them. The man takes a sip of his beer, smirking and leaning in.
Before Nikto can step forward and interrupt, the man says something that apparently pisses off the stranger enough for them to shove him hard. He watches as the man tries to recover, but can’t as the stranger throws a punch straight for his face before he's able to properly regain his balance, catching a part of their hand on his teeth. He stumbles, grabbing onto the wall with his free hand as the stranger shakes out theirs, a bit of blood sliding down. They throw another punch with their other hand, but the creep steps closer, ducking it enough for their hit to miss and scrape the bricks instead. The stranger backs up and clenches their fists, getting some space between them as the man points with one finger, still holding the beer bottle he was drinking from.
“You fucking--” The stranger jolts forward and yanks the bottle out from his hand, smacking him upside the head with it. The man falls backwards, holding the side of his face. The stranger steps over the man, pulling him close by the collar of his shirt, adjusting their grip to hold it with one hand. Their blood from accidentally breaking skin manages to drip down onto his collar.
“Fuck-” They smack him right where they had just hit him with the bottle. The stranger practically spits the word out, staring down the man.
“You.” They backhand him now on the other cheek. “You’re a disgusting excuse of a man for thinking it's okay to treat someone like that.”
They slam him down back onto the ground, pushing themself up to stand again. They adjust their clothes and turn around, about to leave the alley before suddenly freezing up.
Nikto and the stranger hold eye contact, the stranger having not realized there was someone else here and Nikto borderline having forgotten that he was here himself, watching this go down, in real time.
They tense -- as one reasonably would. It’s not everyday that after you beat up a really weird guy in an alley that another really weird looking guy shows up behind you, having watched that all go down. Their fists clench, pulling on the freshly opened cuts on their knuckles. Nikto’s gaze follows their movements with an uncaring air about him.
“You have something there.” He motions to their bloody knuckles, still holding the cigarette.
You stand opposite the random man, shoulders drawn in as you eye him up. He was looking at you with a really strange look in his gaze, one you couldn’t quite place but it felt softer than it should be. At least it wasn’t the type of stare that the man was giving you before.
You look down at your knuckles, brushing off a bit of the blood starting to pool. By the time you look back up, the stranger had stepped forward. You move to step away, but he reaches for you, softly grabbing your hand. He flicks the cigarette out of his other and leans down, brushing your hand against the cloth covering the mask on his face. You frown, lightly tugging your hand away, but he tightens his grip just slightly, looking up at you.
“Волчонок, we think you should get inside before it gets too cold. Would not want to be out here shivering, да?” Your eyes narrow at his words.
“What are you playing at?” His eyes squint slightly, returning your narrowed gaze.
“So fierce, Волчонок.” His Russian accent adds a bit of bluntness to the otherwise teasing remark. The stranger stands up fully, taking a glance over at the creep that was bothering you just moments ago, still on the ground. The only sound the man makes is a quiet groan. “We do not have the same intentions as him. Now, come.”
He pulls you towards him and lets go of your hand, instead placing his hand gently on your shoulder. The stranger begins to walk out of the alley, making sure you were walking with him.
“What- I don't even know your name?” You protest and stop in place, resulting in the stranger looking back to you.
“Nikto.”
“Nikto?” He stands a bit taller when you respond, looking at you with that weird look again. He nods once, tilting his head to the side a bit. He stares heavily at you, blinking once when you give him your name in return.
“You are beautiful, мой волк.” The words seem to spill out of him, but he doesn’t stop them. You stand there, confused.
This guy just saw me beat someone up and he’s calling me beautiful?
“... Thank you?” Nikto begins to pull you forward again, hardly sparing a glance backwards.
“Да. Now, you will show me to your house.” He pauses again and stops beside you, expecting you to begin leading the way.
“Excuse me?” With a glare now aimed at him, you pull your shoulder away from him. “I’m not bringing you to my house.”
“Surely you would not prefer mine?” Nikto’s head tilts again, a bit like a bird would.
“I’d prefer being left alone over some random guy trying to get me alone with him!”
“We do not want you dealing with something like that-” He nods to the alley. “Again. Not safe all alone.”
“I think it’s more than clear that I can take care of myself.” You take a step away from him, but Nikto is quick to close the gap you’re trying to make.
“You should not have to.” You opened your mouth to reply back, but his words made you stop, and so you shut it. You look him up and down, furrowed brows clueing him in on your confusion. You weigh over the pros and cons in your head while Nikto stands there, staring at you heavily again.
Either I risk bringing this guy to my house and him knowing where I live, or I risk going to his house and him kidnapping me… or something.
“We have no intention of doing anything to you, Волчонок. The thought is sickening.“
You look at him for a beat longer and sigh.
“My place isn’t that far.” You begin to walk onwards, and with the footsteps audibly following behind you, it was obvious that he wasn’t going to leave you alone that easily.
He walks you home the rest of the way, not once straying away, nor does he once try to do anything to you. He follows about a step or two behind, his attention split between watching you and watching your surroundings, like he was expecting someone to jump out and attack.
“You’re really quiet.” You fall into step with him, though keep your head facing forward.
You can see him look at you from your peripherals, remaining quiet for a beat before answering.
“We do not have anything to say.” He falls a step behind when you step closer to let someone pass, then remains at pace with you after.
“No questions? Nothing about what happened back there?” You finally look at him, giving him another curious glance.
“There is nothing to say. You had a fair reason.” As he speaks, you turn the corner onto your street and you stop, facing him. He stops as well, the streetlight casting a soft light over his hard mask.
“I’m sure you don’t need to walk me to my doorstep.”
The two of you stare each other down, you refusing to bring him to your house and him refusing to leave you to walk alone.
“No.”, is all he replies with.
You stare at him, hoping he’ll look away before you do, but you blink and groan anyway before continuing on. He follows you down the sidewalk.
You step up to your house, reaching for your keys in your pocket while Nikto steps up behind you, not leaving a lot of room between you two. You side-eye him over your shoulder, but say nothing as you unlock and open your door, stepping forward into the doorway. You turn, one hand at your side as the other half shuts the door behind you.
“Look. I’m home safe and sound.” Nikto doesn’t look like he’s quite yet done, having taken a step closer to your front door.
“Rude not to invite your guest inside.” He remarks.
“You’re not my guest--” You cut yourself off as Nikto puts a hand on your door, pushing it open without much preamble. He steps in, taking a quick look around before half turning to you.
“Where is a medkit?”
You glare and shut the door, not finding it in you to attempt to beat up another guy. Nikto looks a little too well built to attempt regardless. You toe off your shoes, giving him a quick look, enough of a glare to get him to do the same. You say nothing as you head further into the house, grabbing your first aid kit and bringing it back to where Nikto now stood in the kitchen.
“Sit.” He points to a chair pulled out from the dining table, taking the kit from your hand. Nikto puts it down and grabs a towel, wetting it under the sink before returning to you.
He kneels down, and as gently as he did earlier, he grabs one of your hands and brings it closer to him. He brings the damp towel to your split knuckles to wipe away the blood half dried on them. His eyes dart up to yours when you breathe in a little too harshly, causing him to immediately soften the pressure he’s using to clean.
After wiping your knuckles, he does the same to your other hand and opens the first aid kit provided. You reach over and hand him the Neosporin, to which he responds by giving you a slight glare as he grabs it, his blue eyes illuminated against the shadows surrounding them. They were piercing, just like almost everything else about him -- besides the way he treated you. Despite being built like how he is and his obviously less than favorable attitude towards other people, he treated you not like something fragile, but something to be cared for, like a child would care for their favorite stuffed toy or how one would care for their loved ones. It’s almost comical how he treats you, considering he’s not even known you for a full night and his first interaction with you was in the back of an alley where you were punching a creep for harassing someone.
He looked almost like death incarnate, yet held your hand like you were a light shining through the darkness.
You huff quietly. What a light you were.
Nikto’s head lifts from what he was doing at the sound, hands pausing from placing bandages.
“What amuses you?” He asks, his raspy voice quiet and his thick accent softer.
“Nothing.” You shake your head.
He narrows his eyes, but goes back to what he was doing.
He smooths the bandages over your knuckles, ensuring that everything is covered. Nikto then leans his head down, his covered forehead resting against your fingers.
“Do not injure yourself like this again.” He murmurs.
“It wasn’t my intention to get these.” You flex your hand a little, testing his grip once more.
“Да, but let us sleep easy knowing you are safe.” Nikto moves his head so now it is his masked lips against your hand, pressing a bit into you before doing the same to the other hand. He remains kneeling, holding both of your hands in one of his own as he gazes up at your sitting form.
Maybe this guy wasn’t so bad, especially not if he keeps looking at you like you hung the moon and stars just for him.
“мой волк…” He breathes out, accent heavy in his mother tongue. Nikto sits there, your hands in his, breathing you in. And for a moment, the voices in his head quiet down.
