#oughhh nikto moy lyubov oughhh

[fishsinsareacknowledged]

Nobody And Yours - NIKTO x READER

Tags: Implied self harm, ooc nikto, soft nikto, domestic fluff, comfort, mild Angst, desperate nikto.

Words: 0.5k

Nikto knew it well. The mask was mentally and physically hard and cold. And yet there you were, attracted to him. You were soft, warm. Everything he needed and more.

He had to get better. For you at least.

He didn’t let you kiss him for the first year of your relationship. It would’ve been damning you. To stain perfectly pure skin with the blood on his hands.

Yet

the way you would smile at him at every selfish grasp and endlessly tender graze of his left him feeling lightheaded. Obsessed, heartsick.

He wishes he could trust, yet every time he has tried to rid of the mask before you his hands shake. Mind freezing as his thoughts grow a little louder, more distorted. Shutting himself away in his room for hours or days before he gets back to you, self repairs in store for himself as he shields the sins on his name. Protective, damaged.

Scars to show for his crimes and missing patches of skin to show for his mistakes. It was all shameful and yet the way you ask so softly to see. He had to at least try before he would run once again in shame. But he wouldn’t hide for long, not with you. Possessive, protective.

He would never make you wait if he could.

The one good thing that is for him. Only him. He couldn't leave you, ever. Selfish, greedy, starving, you could call him anything and he wouldn’t deny it. It was in his nature.

And yet, he wouldn’t be ravenous, he will not be voracious, he will be gentle and soft. All for you. He won’t leave scars on your skin as he had done so to himself. He will not leave you with worry and sorrow. He will not be rude to you. He will be tender and calm only with you.

He reassures you everytime he has to go back to his missions. Asking you, in what could be soft meaningless whispers that he will return, yet he speaks so desperately that you would be desperate enough to believe him.

Muttering soft wishes as you start to wake. Feeling his presence in front of you as you feel him tremble. The simple act of holding your hand- the edges of your fingers in his palm, silken hand in rough skin that he must shield away with his gloves. Even through the layers of fabric he fears that he will stain, he fears so much that he will shake and tremble.

Begging you to forgive him as he presses his mask to your skin, greedy, selfish. Begging you to stay with him as his covered thumb softly pushes down the tips of your fingers down to his palm, possessive, protective. Eyes darkening softly as he begs you to kiss him, obsessive, heartsick. Eyes shining with tears as you cup the side of his mask, noticing the way he flinches at the slight touch, he needs to protect you, needs to put aside his shame.

And he does as he finally takes off the mask. Letting you see him for who he is. A man, tired and yours.