Yes/No

isn't too hard to see we're in heaven—nikolai x f!reader

wc: 1.1k

warnings: daddy kink, religious discussion, mentions of death

Those rare lazy Sunday mornings with Nikolai are your favourite—soft touches between even softer sheets, lost in each other's reverent gaze, tucked safe under the covers.

You lounged together until you could no more, only crawling out of bed to gather sustenance that wasn't in the form of each other. 

Late in the afternoon, Nikolai started his routine, putting on his Sunday best, making himself a tea, and flicking open his old, worn bible.

You curl up by his side, comfy in his oversized t-shirt, head resting on his soft thighs while he flicks through the pages. 

It was then the call came.

A last minute request for transport, dangerous, risky, the kind only your man could provide. 

Today you're each other's haven, tomorrow, your lives are disturbed once more—your world tilted on its axis, your guiding north star stolen from your night sky.

The tears form the second the call ends, beads forming at your lashline as that familiar anxiety bubbles up, the one you get every time he needs to leave.

You don't sniff, don't make a sound, you stay perfectly still—but of course, your observant papochka notices.

"No crying, malyshka." He coos sweetly, hand stroking over your cheek as he disguises the pain in his own heart. 

"I just need you to come back to me."  You choke back a sob, the words strangled in your throat as you nuzzle in closer, hiding in the meat of his thigh, burying yourself under his skin. 

Nikolai draws a deep breath as he feels your anguish flow through him. "Always..." He whispers, voice low and sincere. His touch is sweet, reverent, grounding and yet still not enough. 

"Not always, you're gonna leave me one day." Your words are childish, petulant, really, caught up in emotion. Anyone else would accuse you of being dramatic, histrionic, but Nikokai knows you, knows the call has opened a chasm in your heart and a cascade of nasty thoughts. 

"Чему́ быть, того́ не минова́ть." He utters, his fingers now carding through your hair, and there's almost something mystical to his words as he quotes the proverb. "You can't avoid that which is meant to happen." 

Your crying turns to laughter, a tortured mix of emotion at your man's very Russian, slightly morbid acceptance of his own mortality. "Not helpful, Kolya."

He clicks his tongue as his hand trails to the swell of your arse, tapping you in command. "Come, read with me." 

Your limbs feel slow and syrupy as you reposition, but with Nikolai's helpful hands at your pretty hips, he soon has you right where he wants you. He sits you in his lap, back facing his front, nestled in nice and close. His chin rests atop your head, the stubble of his chin tickling your crown as you get comfortable. One arm snakes around your waist, hand settling on one of your parted thighs—the other holds the bible open. 

It looks so small in his hand, and the fragile pages turn so easily under his rough fingers. He flickers to a new page and begins to read—some passage about the afterlife that you don't really listen to. His tone is so warm, his words rumbling through you and soothing you regardless of their content. What you do pick up on feels wrong to your ears, but if anyone could speak truth to such false words, it would be your papochka. If he just preached enough, you'd believe anything he said.

"It is not the end, but the transition to eternity. It's not too late for you." He says, steady and certain, all whole his fingers toy with your panty elastic, a touch that's neither here nor there. "One day, I will go to hell. But, you need to be a good girl; heaven awaits you."

He leans down then, catches the side of your head with a kiss, then chasing the shiver he sends down your neck.

It's hard to think of heaven as some faraway concept when your own slice of nirvana is right here. "I don't even believe—" You begin to protest, but his nipped kisses grow more insistent until they silence you.

"I know. You're not doing it for you, you're doing it for me. Don't you want your old man to rest easy, little one?" The way his tone licks over the words is almost sinful, the way he plays dirty and pleads.

"You just said you're going to hell either way..." You counter, tone teasing as you try to play dirty too, to poke holes in his words. After all, it takes two to tango, and he shaped you in his image, the good and the bad.

You take the bible from his grasp and toss it aside, before turning in his lap and straddling him properly, meeting his gaze with a mischievous smile on your face.

But compared to your glee, he looks quite severe. His lips tug downward, his brows furrow, and a displeased grunt leaves him even as your arms slip around his neck. "I'll have enough to worry about down there, enough torture to endure. Don't give me more, da?"

The words still you. 

You don't believe in hell, and you certainly don't believe Nikolai belongs there, even with all the blood on his hands. But if God is real and punishment really is eternal, Nikolai's fate is sealed.

And he's right, if you ended up down there with him, he'd only suffer more. 

Even though you don't believe, you know he does. You know the thought of your damned soul preys on him more than it should.

You swallow and nod solemnly, accepting your papochka's command. "Okay." You snuggle in closer and bury yourself in his neck, needing to be as close to him as possible. 

"When I get there, I'll ask if you can come too."

Nik takes a sharp intake of breath, and you feel him preparing himself to speak before he falls short. It takes another moment for him to collect himself. 

"I love you more than words can say." He whispers, strong arms wrapping around your back as he clings to you right back. "And I'll fight God to stay with you as long as I can, understood?" 

His grip on you is so tight, you're certain he'll never let you go.

"Big scary Kolya." You coo teasingly, unable to fight a smile off your face. If he will fight god, you know his enemies on his next mission stand no chance of coming between you. He strikes fear into mortal hearts, and as your god, your faith will make him strong enough to face off with his own. "God should be terrified."