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angrylizardjacket · 4 years

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mouth full of white lies {Machine Gun Kelly} 4

4. i wanna know what’s your quietest feeling

Summary: So you’ve met his friends, and now his daughter, who’s the only other person who knows that this whole thing is a setup. But all she wants is to make sure that you’re not gonna break her dad’s heart; it shouldn’t be too hard to convince her that your intentions are good.

the brainstrust: @sataninsatin @silvertonguedserpent @juliarose21 @kellysimagines @estxxbritt @machine-gun-casie @harringtonstudios @misscharlottelee @narcvissa @hiworlditishumbleme @angelwarner28 @nevilles-insinuations @rumoured-whispers @mgkobsessed @edwardtriggerhandzz @suckerforbarnes @wastelcve @bakerkells @local-troubled-writer @freddiessmallnipples @oopsiedoopsie23 @mayaslifeinabox @mrs-machinegun-norris @hxbbit

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Colson writes. A lot. You’d noticed it here and there being close to home, being close his studio, he’s buzzing with new ideas. There’s a ratty notebook that he keeps in the front pocket of his suitcase, held together by fibers and hope, that seems to be worth it’s weight in gold to him, full of lyrics and ideas that he’s been hoarding for as long as he’s been writing. About ten percent of the book has actually come to fruition, but that’s not what’s important about it, it’s that it’s positively brimming with potential as much as it is memories.

It’s been less than a year since his last album, and he’s made a few songs here and there, but now he writes, when inspiration strikes him, after work, or between takes. He’s in talks with Motley themselves, apparently, working on a part for one of their songs, rereleasing with the release of the film. For now, he writes, and he hums, and tests out lyrics under his breath.

“That sounds good,” it’s Sunday morning; he’s up earlier than you, which isn’t necessarily an unusual occurrence. He’s wearing sweatpants, hair curling a little at the ends where he’s letting it air dry, sitting up beside you on the bed. He’s got his notebook balanced on the one knee he’s got drawn up to him, while the other leg is kicked out in front of him, and he’s humming something while scrolling through his phone. He’s muttering something, lyrics you’re pretty sure, while something plays from his phone.

He seems a little surprised, like he’s coming out of a trance that the music had put him in, and smiles with an honest sincerity.

You yawn, and wiggle a little beneath the covers to properly face him, face half-smushed into the pillow. For a beat he looks at you like he wants to do something, like he wants to reach out and touch your cheek, trace his thumb across your lip -

Wishful thinking. Probably.

“Rook’s been working on some stuff; he sent this through last night,” and he tapped away at his phone for a moment, replaying the track on his phone. It’s an instrumental, beat-heavy and the bones for a solid bop. You nod along to it, and he starts rapping under his breath again.

“I think it could be something good,” he sounds quietly hopeful; he doesn’t sound like that often.

“Of course it’ll be good,” you say around a yawn, and this time he does reach out.

“Go back to sleep,” he pinches gently at your cheek, and a warm rush of affection floods through you. Without thinking, you turn to press a quick kiss to his palm, a moment of gentle familiarity, and turn away, to go back to sleep, without thinking to watch for his reaction. You hear a faint, almost disbelieving huff of laughter, before the music starts back up again.

It’s not long before you’re ingratiated with his friends, who’ve all taken you and Colson in stride. Mostly it’s drinking and smoking and making music and playing video games, so even your initial anxiety is quick to fade.

That first morning, Wednesday, cool but sunny, it’s easy; Rook’s the only one awake when you and Colson arrive. He’s sitting at the kitchen island, perched on a stool with a pen stuck in his mouth, and a laptop and drum pad machine sitting on the counter, and when you walk in, he gives you a long, evaluative stare, a joint in between his fingers, idle.

“Hey man, this is Ducky,” Colson doesn’t seem to notice how you’ve frozen awkwardly in the doorway, moving past you to start searching the cupboards for food; Rook nods to him, before looking back at him, “Ducky, this is my man Rook,” and at that, he holds out his hand for the joint, and Rook passes it over, before looking back at you. You give a little, uncomfortable wave.

“Ducky?” He asks, curious rather than hostile, and you let yourself breathe, stepping into the room.

“Or Duck,” you explain, heading to the counter where Colson’s now wrestling with a packet of Doritos, “or [Y/N].” And you put your bag down, taking the seat beside Rook as Colson passes the joint back to him to get a better handle on the bag.

“Tight,” Rook says after a moment, apparently finding something in you that he approves of, because he follows it up by turning the laptop towards you, asking if you were into music. Of course you tell him you are - who isn’t? - but you don’t have a lot of experience in the production side of things.

“I mean,” you concede briefly, “about two years ago there was a trend going around on YouTube where you make a diss track about yourself -” Colson’s entire face lit up.

“You wrote a diss track about yourself? Don’t you do like cutesy vlogs and shit?” He asks, and it’s not meant to sound as unkind as it’s worded, though you still roll your eyes.

“It pays to be on trend,” you shrug, still a little embarrassed at the memory, “but it was fun.”

Colson is looks actually impressed, while Rook is still chewing on the end of his pen, typing away frantically. After a beat, Colson turns to him -

“Her channel name is DuckDuckBooth -”

“I’ve already found the video,” Rook says with a smile, and you have to hide your face in your hands as they watch with equal parts fondness, and a little bit of second hand embarrassment.

Colson posts to his Instagram story a video of Rook jamming out to your self-diss track, before the camera swings around to see you flipping them both off with a fond smile. Your video is the only sound that can be heard for the full duration of the ten second video -

“Too scared of you’re face on the big, big screen, you think YouTube’s gonna be more stable / even though you use your bro for views every chance that you’re able. / With all of the time that you spend around sets, they all think you’re a professional stalker / and you spill you’re guts when you’re NDA free; you’ve made a career as Hollywood’s biggest talker. / [As if! Who asked for the Perez Hilton of the production crew?!]”

He tags both you and Rook, and captioned the video with a question: Should we remix Ducky’s self-diss track from 2016? With two options for fans to choose: Yes. or Definitely.

But Rook’s not who your worried about. None of Colson’s friends really worry you.

Casie arrives a week and a half after you’ve all moved locations, to see her dad, to meet you, and to sit in on production for about a week.

When you finally meet her, her cocked hip and crossed arms reminds you of Colson; she’s four and a bit feet of skepticism and an unmatched, effortlessly cool energy, and you realise too late that you’re kind of intimidated by an elementary schooler.

“I’ve seen your videos,” is the first thing she says to you, and you find yourself smiling, bewildered.

“Cas -” Colson’s voice holds a note of warning where he’s currently getting his tattoos covered. He’s standing with his arms out, looking straight ahead while Corey, the key makeup artist, and his team, airbrush and colour correct like their lives depend on it.

“I’m making sure she’s taking care of you,” Casie, unwavering in both her conviction and her loyalty, shifts her weight to her other foot. “The drum video was cute.” And you’re not quite sure if it’s a compliment, judging by the cool tone of her voice, but she’s wearing a slight smile that you’ve seen on Colson far too many times to not recognize it. This feels like the first of many tests.

She’s adamant that she’s not someone to be bought, though the thought had barely crossed your mind. When she nods approvingly at your dismissal of the suggestion, you can’t help but frown.

“How many girls have tried to get on her good side by buying her stuff?” You ask Colson quietly, out of Casie’s earshot later that night. For a moment, he looks as close to guilty as you’ve ever seen him.

“Not a lot, like one or two maybe; not a lot of girls meet her,” he admitted, “but the ones that try and buy her gifts and shit, they always turned out to be the worst ones,” and perhaps the guilt intensifies a little more, “she’s a good kid; always saw that before I could.”

“She’s a good kid,” you repeated, softer this time, with a faint smile, and when Colson comes back to reality, he gives your shoulder a squeeze.

She’s on set a lot for the days that she’s staying with you all, and when she sees you at work, she appears to warm to you; you’re not sure when you forgot that she was just a child trying to protect her father, but you’re reminded when you see the starry-eyed look she’s giving the makeup artists.

“Hey Corey,” you ask, smiling a little, and the makeup artist who had been in the middle of his lunch looks up from his phone with wide, alert eyes, “could one of your people give Casie here a little bit of 80s glam?” You ask sweetly, and his expression tuns fond as he nods. Casie turns wide-eyed and a little abashed at request, and murmurs that she doesn’t want to be any trouble. Both Corey and yourself wave away her concerns, and Amy, one of the makeup assistants, is more than happy to give the young girl a bit of glitter and gloss to the excited young girl.

She’s got glitter on her eyelids, and blush and highlighter adorning her cheeks, and a shiny, clear lip gloss making her smile that little bit brighter by the time the makeup woman is done with her, and Casie is practically glowing.

“How in the hell,” Colson starts with a grin when she goes to him to show off, “did I end up with the most stylish kid in the world? Cas, you look like a model.” Pride is radiating off of him in waves, and he pulls out his phone, “babe, get a picture, she looks so fuckin’ cool,” he enthuses, and if your heart skips a beat as his casual use of a pet-name, you’re enough of a professional not to let it show. Casie is calling him embarrassing, but is still beaming, and with him in full costume and her all made up, the picture you take - he’s standing behind her with his hands on her shoulders, and she’s got her arms crossed, both of them looking serious and menacing at the camera - you think they might be the coolest people you’ve ever met. Certainly one of the most photogenic father/daughter duos you’ve ever come across.

“Do not make it your phone background,” Casie presses her embarrassed smile into his shoulder where they’re reviewing the photo back in his trailer.

“But I’m not allowed to post it, and I wanna admire it every day - look at you!” He’s pointedly zooming in on her stony expression in the photo.

“[Y/N], tell him he’s being ridiculous,” Casie implored you, and you threw your hands up in surrender.

“I’m not allowed to say what is and isn’t a ridiculous phone background,” you say automatically, which piques both of their interests, and you immediately regret saying anything.

“Babe,” Colson says, prompting you, and you feel yourself growing flustered, both because you’re going to have to admit that your background is a photo of you two, and that he’s called you that twice in about half an hour. Casie’s amused now, smiling, her arms crossed as she raises her eyebrows at you expectantly. Taking a deep breath, you unlock your phone.

“I’m just trying to be a good girlfriend,” you say, avoiding their gazes as you show them your home screen, and your background; the paparazzi photo of you and Colson beneath the boardwalk.

“Is that how you organise your apps?” Is what Casie has to say, which has Colson snorting with laughter, though when you finally look at him, you see him wearing a weirdly pleased little smile.

“Ducky, that’s weird and adorable -”

“It’s not weird!” You protest, snatching back your phone, flustered, but Casie just rolls her eyes, pulling out her own phone.

“Come here, both of you,” she instructs, sounding terribly put upon by the both of you. You both crowd around her, with only slight confusion. “Look convincing.” She holds up her phone, and you both frown a little.

“What?”

“Look convincing,” she insists again, gesturing between the two of you, and finally coming to understand her meaning, Colson gives her an endeared, almost proud look, and you in turn are looking fondly at him. Neither of you have noticed that she’s already taken the selfie. After a beat, she lowers the phone and starts looking at the few photos she’d taken, and both you and Colson seem a little surprised at her speed. “Dad, I’ll send it to you, you send it to her; you can have a photo of both of us looking cool, and a photo of your ‘girlfriend’,” she explains with implicit air quotes, “and [Y/N], you don’t have to have a creepy pap’s picture as your background.” She taps away for a moment before swiftly sending the best photo to Colson, “plus you’ll match.”

“You’re a little genius,” you tell her once Colson’s sent you the photo. Casie beams at you.

“I know.”

And the way you’re smiling in the photo is more than convincing.

[ID: A series of three tweets from @machinegunkelly:

1: Retweeted with the caption ‘🥰🥰’, originally posted by @duckduckbooth with no caption: Two pictures of Rosa Diaz from Brooklyn 99 holding a golden retriever puppy with an edited caption reading ‘I’ve only known CASIE BAKER for a day and a half but if anything happened to HER I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.’

2: Tweeted: when me n my girls (my daughter and @duckduckbooth) hang out i realize i’m somehow the least fashionable in the group. when did that happen wtf 😳😳

3. Tweeted: maybe you'll skip to the end and pass all the irrational decisions, patch up all the passion that was missin'. i think that's enough. i'm feelin' lovesick.

End ID.]

Maybe it’s that she likes you, maybe she’s just trying to keep an eye on you to make sure you’ve got her dad’s best intentions at heart, but Casie takes it upon herself to almost shadow you while on set, at least when she’s not with her dad.

“What’s your next video going to be?” She asks one afternoon when you’re both waiting for Colson in his trailer as he gets his makeup removed for the day. She’s watching a video on her phone and you’re reading emails on yours, and you look up, interested. After a moment, she pauses her video, looking up, looking back at you, “I like your ‘day in the life’ ones.”

“I didn’t realise you liked my videos,” you said with faint amusement, and she gives a small smile.

“I’ve been binging them,” she admits, and shuffles a little, sitting up further where she’s reclining on the uncomfortable little sofa, “your editing is really nice; I liked your Euro-Disney video, it was really pretty.”

“Thanks,” you find yourself a little humbled at her compliment, and find yourself musing that you’d like to get back to that style of video, “hey,” you find yourself coming up with an idea, something Colson had said during your first actual date, and with Casie herself now here, it was the perfect opportunity, “do you wanna be in a video?”

“Hello! Hello and welcome back, ducklings! I’ve been feeling rather nostalgic for some of my older content, and was inspired by none other than Miss Casie Baker, so what better day than this beautiful Friday afternoon, to take you all along with Casie, Kells, and I as we head to a boardwalk fair.”

It’s a short drive to the boardwalk, and once you’re there, it’s almost unbearably cheesy. Rides, candy, you and Colson in competition trying to win a prize for Casie at one of the cheap game booths.

You’re filming on and off the whole time, getting aesthetic shots, your heart growing warmer with each genuine smile you manage to catch on camera. You take endless candid photos of Colson and Casie, and even though you know you can’t be out too late because you and Colson are due on set at eight, you make the most of the time you have.

After an hour and a half, you stop at the food vendor, craving hot chips, and Colson orders, while Casie takes your hand, the two of you hanging back.

"Can we go on the Ferris Wheel?"

"Just a minute kiddo, food's almost ready," Colson tells her over his shoulder, but she tugs at your hand, making her meaning more clear.

"You can catch up, we can go around twice; I wanna talk to [Y/N]," she tells him plainly, and you give her a smile, already acquiescing to her suggestion. Colson makes a noise of gentle protest, but he sees her hand in yours, and the reassuring look you've leveled at him.

"Take care of my girl," he tells you with a faux seriousness, and Casie gives a small grin at that.

"I'll protect her with my life," you promise, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"You better," he grinned, tone fond and a little teasing, before assuring that he'd meet you both up there, and you're left wondering what about you screamed 'let's have a serious conversation on a Ferris Wheel' because if it happens again, it goes from a coincidence to a pattern. Casie drops your hand and trots easily through the crowd to the Wheel that had cast the rest of the fair in shadow as the sun set behind it. The ride operator gives you a toothy smile as she secures the door behind the two of you, and Casie links her fingers, resting her elbows on her knees, and her chin on her hands, evaluating you with an inscrutable look. She waits until the basket is about a quarter of the way around before saying anything; for your part, you’re silent, she’s the one who wanted to speak after all.

“Dad doesn’t do fake,” she says finally, sitting back, and lets you wonder in silence for a few moments, what that even means, “I know he did, I’m not blind or deaf, people… people talk to me. A lot. About things my dad’s done.” This piece of information has your expression souring - she’s just a kid - but she doesn’t seem bothered by it, she just seems… almost confused.

“I’m not going to -”

“I know.” She cuts you off before you can even voice what reassurance you could manage, “I’ve gathered that; you’re good. Better than probably any other girl who’s gotten with him for clout.”

“I’m not -” You try to protest and she does look a little apologetic, but after a moment, you stop yourself, and let her continue, trying to understand where she was coming from.

“I know why he likes you, I get it, you -” she averts her gaze for a moment, suddenly a little embarrassed, “you’re actually really cool,” she admits, and your heart softens, but you keep quiet, and let her build back up to her bravado, “but back when his manager had him with like, models and actresses and things, they were all - I mean sometimes they were nice, but they always thought they were better than him, or they just treated him like dirt when people weren’t around, so now, dad doesn’t do fake.” It’s said definitively. You’re at the top of the Ferris Wheel now, stopped for a few moments, and she looks out at the rest of the fair, and then down to the base of the ride, letting herself smile when she spots Colson at the bottom, giving him a wave.

Somehow, sitting in this basket in the sky, it feels like a mafia movie, like this little girl is implying she’ll break your kneecaps if you hurt her father. Or she’s implying something that your heart dare not read into, lest you get your hopes up.

“Dad doesn’t break his rules for just anyone,” Casie finally sits back up, and there’s a new, kinder quality about her voice, before it turns young, turns plaintive, and you’re reminded that she’s just a child looking out for her dad, her hero, “please don’t make him regret it. He’s a good person, I know what people say but he’s -”

“Casie, I care about him. A lot.” You tell her honestly, gently, and she blinks wide and surprised for a few moments, before her expression turns to almost weirdly pleased, maybe even a little smug.

“Good.” She says with conviction, before looking out at the horizon, “this would be a nice shot.”

“It’d be nicer with your dad,” you hear yourself saying, and Casie huffs out a laugh that sounds so much like her father, agreeing quietly. When your basket stops at the bottom of the wheel, Colson flashes his ride wristband to the kid operating it, and he slides into the seat beside you. Casie’s still smiling as she takes a chip from where he offered them.

“Nice chat?” He asks, and offers you the chips too.

“I like her,” Casie announces, and you grin to yourself, “dad, I love you, but you’d better treat Duck right; we’re friends now.” Which sets Colson off laughing, and you turn on your camera.

“You were meant to be on my side,” he laughs, and Casie shrugs.

“I am, I’m on both your sides.”

#mgk #mgk x reader #mgk imagine #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #the dirt #the dirt cast #the dirt cast imagine #the angry lizard writes

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master-sass-blast · 4 years

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The Christmas Decorating Fic.

Hello, yes, this is the proper time of year to post a Christmas themed fic.

Summary: You and Piotr decorate your home for Christmas for the very first time.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader.

Rating: G.

Warning(s): A very minor, mild mention of/allusion to childhood trauma.

Set after “It’s Truly Magical.”

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @super-darkcloudstudent, @leo-writer, @dandyqueen

“Orn-a-ments, lights, and ginger-bread cookies! Tinsel and more lights and… what else rhymes with cookies? Glitter and glitter and glitter some more! Gonna have glitter all over the floor!”

“Pozhaluysta, nyet. We will be vacuuming for thousand years, at least.”

“I make no promises.” You grin impishly at your long-suffering husband, then belt out, “When the dog bites! When the bee stings! When I’m feeling sad… I simply throw glitter up in the air, and then I don’t feel… so bad!”

It’s officially the winter holiday season –meaning snow, seasonal music, red and green everything, and consuming more cookies than you probably should in one sitting.

It’s also midterm season at Xavier’s for all the high school students, meaning your husband has been hard at work prepping exams, holding review sessions, making study guides, and generally doing everything he can to see that his pupils succeed.

Which is nice –but it also means that you were left with the task to purchase all the Christmas and seasonal décor.

You probably went overboard (not that you’re admitting that to anybody).

Piotr stares at the sea of bags and boxes that completely cover the living room floor and spill into the kitchen. He rubs his temples and sighs. “Moya lyubov’… why?”

“I just…” You smile sheepishly and duck your head. “It’s pretty! And colorful! And it’s so white and bland outside, so I thought we could use extra color in here! And, like, we can share whatever we don’t use with the residents so they can decorate their rooms, but…” You let your voice trail off, sheepish smile growing. “I liked all of it. Okay, look –all of the candles smelled amazing! How was I supposed to pick one type?” You pull a random candle out of a bag that holds many, many, many more candles –this one’s peppermint hot chocolate scented—and take off the lid before holding it out to your husband. “Smell this. It’s fucking delicious.”

“Smells very nice,” Piotr agrees after a cursory sniff. “Just… what will we do with all this?”

“Decorate, baby. It’s our first Christmas that we have our own place. We gotta go all out!”

“I do not disagree. Just… how much did all this cost?”

“I used my own money,” you defend yourself. “Which is technically crime money from Wade and dad and my uncle, which I know you don’t like, but it’s also supporting a capitalist death machine, which you also don’t like, so I feel like that should cancel each other out—” You sigh when Piotr crosses arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow at you. “I got excited,” you admit. “I’ve never… I’ve never really been able to go all out for Christmas before, especially not in a home of my own. I can… I can take some of it back, if you want.”

“Nyet, nyet,” Piotr says gently. He draws you into his arms and kisses the top of your head. “That will not be necessary.” He kisses the top of your head, then surveys the sea of bags once more. “Well, at least we will never need to buy decorations again.”

“That’s the spirit!” you chirp, patting his chest before skipping away. “I need you to put up the tree, and also help me hang tinsel because…” You pick up one of your sketchpads and show him a few designs you’d made with an impish grin. “I drew up some layouts.”

“Did you now,” Piotr chuckles as he studies your sketches.

“I have a vision.”

He chuckles again, then kisses your cheek. “Then let’s make vision come true.”

***

“Chestnuts roasting on an open fire… Jack Frost nipping at your nose…”

The smooth tones of Nat King Cole croon through the speakers. Snow flutters down from the thick, dark gray blanket of clouds high above, batting against the windowpanes before accumulating in drifts over the earth. A fire crackles in the fireplace, hissing and snapping as the flames eat away at the logs your husband had placed in the hearth.

You smile, hovering in the air as you tack up a strand of tinsel.

It’s like the spirit of Christmas has swept through your house. You got Piotr to wrestle the Christmas tree into an upright position –he’s still shaping and fluffing it now—while you focused on draping strands of tinsel and lights over every conceivable surface (within reason on the lights, of course, because Piotr drew a line at blowing the breaker every time one of you flipped a switch). There’s little clusters of figurines throughout the main floor –there’s a trio of wooden snowmen on the table next to the front door, a scene of those porcelain house and figures on a swath of batting on the side table in the dining room, several little penguins in festive hats scattered throughout the kitchen—

It’s almost addictive. Every new addition to your home leaves you giddy, giggling like a child on a sugar high. You dart all over the place, finessing and adjusting which decorations go where until it’s all just right.

Maybe it comes from never decorating for anything during your childhood. Your parents were stridently against any sort of frivolity, citing “hedonism” and “blasphemy” and “not following in the path of Christ” any of the few times you dared to ask.

Woe to thee, Pharisees and Sadducees, you think as you finish hanging a strand of red, holographic tinsel. Your upper lip curls in derision as you float back down to the floor.

Piotr looks over at you when you let out a ragged sigh. “Everything alright, myshka?”

“Yeah.” You sigh again. “Just… thinking about my parents.”

Piotr leaves the tree –which is looking far less bedraggled than it did first coming out of the box. He crosses the room and puts his arms around you once he’s by your side. “It’s okay. Everything is okay.”

“I know, I know. I just get mad at them sometimes.”

“As you have every right to be.” He kisses the top of your head. “I am so sorry, myshka.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” You tip your head back so you can kiss him properly. “You want to light one of the candles I got?”

“Sure. You pick.”

“In that case, I’m lighting all of them.”

Piotr laughs as he ambles back over to the tree. “Please, no.”

You start pulling candles out of a paper bag and line them up on the kitchen counter. “We’ve got ‘Peppermint Hot Chocolate,’ ‘Sugar Cookie,’ ‘Frosted Holly,’ ‘Sugar and Spice,’ ‘Fresh Pine,’ ‘Cranberry Orange Zest,’ ‘Gingerbread Dreams,’ ‘Minty Mocha,--’”

“Bozhe ty moi,” Piotr guffaws, shoulders shaking as he laughs. He presses a hand against his stomach and shakes his head. “How many did you get?”

“As many as I wanted!” You stick your tongue out at him when he continues laughing and keep lining up candles on the counter. “Shut up! I’ve never gotten to have shit like this before.”

Piotr sobers abruptly. He stares at you, forehead creasing with sorrow. “I am sorry, myshka. I did not consider this.”

“No, no, no.” You leave your plethora of candles at the counter and go over to him. “It’s okay, honey,” you assure him as you wrap your arms around his waist. “I was poking fun back at you, sweetheart. I wasn’t offended, I swear.”

“That is good to know.” Piotr strokes your hair with one hand. “But… it hurts me. I remember that you had so little, and were treated so cruelly, and—”

You hold him tighter when his voice breaks. “It’s okay, Piotr. I’m okay. I’ve got you now. And all the candles I could ever want!”

He laughs, even if it’s wet and shaky. “Da, very true.” He wipes a few stray tears off his cheeks. “Pick candle you like best, myshka. Anything is fine with me.”

“So, I can light all of them at once—”

“Nyet. Tochno net.”

“But—”

“Nyet.”

“But it—”

“Nyet.”

“You’re not even letting me explain myself!”

“Correct.” Piotr grins when you scrunch your face up at him, then kisses your forehead. “One candle, myshka. Please.”

You sigh dramatically, heaving your shoulders and rolling your eyes. “Fine. I guess I just have to smell each one until I can decide which one’s the best.”

“You will give yourself headache.”

“No, I won’t! I’m invincible!”

Piotr shakes his head as you skip back over to the counter. “Whatever you say, moya lyubov’.”

***

You don’t give yourself a headache –but you do switch between smelling candles so fast that you lose your sense of smell.

“I’m wounded!” you scream as you inhale into your shirt to try and clear your nose. “Forever disabled! I’m gonna die!”

“I warned you,” Piotr says, smiling all the same. He carefully sniffs a few candles, then takes a lighter and lights ‘Gingerbread Dreams.’ “This one is best.”

“How dare you mock me!”

“My sincerest apologies.” He sets the candle on the center of the counter, then faces you. “Are you ready to decorate tree?”

“Sure. You want to start on lights while I pick which ornaments to use?”

Piotr shoots you a dubious glance. His gaze flicks between you and the sea of plastic bags still covering the floor. “Myshka… why would you need to pick?”

“Well…” You shift from foot to foot as your voice trails off. “I wasn’t sure… what color scheme we’d go with…”

He sighs like the longsuffering saint he is. “How many did you get?”

“Uh…” You rifle through the bags, pulling out box after box of shimmery, shiny baubles. “Enough?”

Piotr’s eyes bug out of his head. “Y/N—”

“We can donate the ones we don’t use.”

“Yes, yes we will.” Piotr runs a hand over his face, shaking his head. He sighs heavily, then grabs a strand of lights and starts weaving it between the tree branches. “Thank goodness for extra spending money.”

***

The two of you settle on a white, gold, and red theme for the tree, since there’s plenty of green in the rest of the house. Between the tree, finishing the other decorations, and the tidying up –at Piotr’s insistence—it’s late evening before the two of you finish up.

You nestle against Piotr’s side. The two of you are on the couch, resting and admiring your handiwork in the light of the fire and the thousands of string lights. “It looks pretty.”

“Da.” Piotr drapes a thick, burly arm around your shoulders. “You chose well.”

You snort. “Hard to go wrong when you buy half the store.”

“You chose well,” he repeats, voice soft and loving. He kisses your temple. “Our home looks wonderful, moya solntse.”

You beam and lay your head against his chest. “Yeah. It does.”

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus x reader #seasonally appropriate fics #fluff #christmas fluff #financial escapism #deadpool fanfiction #x men fanfiction

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lay-d-l · 4 years

Text

Zoyalai Modern AU

This spring I joined @grishaversebigbang and for whatever reason I signed up as a writer. Not a very smart idea it was very stressful and I don’t even like it that much, but y’know, next year, I’ll be ready.

I worked with incredibly talented people who are, generally the sweetest human beings you could meet.

Materialki:

@someofgennie x

@edmeom x

Corporalki:

@shelbychild

Fic summary: Zoya was living day for day, not caring really, not after him. After she bumps into a guy at her favorite coffee shop, her life gets interesting again. Will she let herself feel again?

you can find my fic here *it’s not there yet, so if you wanna see it, keep reading*

It was a wet Tuesday morning; it had been raining all night and I wasn’t feeling like going out. But things happen 24/7 and that means reporters, like me, work 24/7. I wiggled out of bed and went to the bathroom. Seeing what I saw, I groaned. It's Zoya's-Famous-Bed-Hair. Once, in junior year, I woke up late and didn't have time for hair and makeup. So, naturally, I put on the first thing I got my hands on and ran out. Which is usually okay, right? Yeah, well Os Alta Speciality School has uniforms. Though, they’re not like Ketterdam ones. In Ketterdam, it's regular pants-shirt-jumper; in Os Alta they wore keftas. That's not the point, though; the night before, Genya and I were out, partying, so I wore clothes from last night's party. The principal suspended me for the day. This morning, I braided my hair, took my laptop, and left for the Dragon Scale. Dragon Scale is a coffee shop just around the corner from my apartment. Since I started drinking coffee when I was fifteen I have always gone there; it felt safe. Mostly because no one, not even Genya, knew about it. Just like every other day, it was almost empty. One person at the counter and a few others scattered in the back. I went to the counter and Anna, the barista, smiled at me. "The usual?" she asked. "You know it," I smiled back. "Could you bring it to me though? I have a lot of work today." Not turning from the shelves she said, "No worries." With that I went to sit by the window. I liked looking at people as they passed by, even when it's not a busy day. I opened the laptop and started writing: the elections are nearing, are you ready to decide between our two competitors? Is it going to be the cunning Petyr or the sly Nikolai Lantsov? I was never into politics, but Shelby, my publisher, insisted I write about this year's election. I love my job, I really do, but this is incredibly boring and the campaigns don't start until a few weeks from now, so when Anna brought my frappe, I looked to the street. I was like a less smart Sherlock Holmes. Meaning I can't really deduct, I just notice how people walk and dress, or if they have any ticks. Like if their left shoulder is lower than their right one. There was a woman in a hot pink coat, which was an unusual choice considering not many people wear bright colours at this time of year. A pig tailed girl who had stuck a lollipop to her mother's jacket. And a guy who was trying so hard not to be seen, but who obviously failed. With nothing else to do I packed my laptop, took my cup and went out. As I was turning to say bye to Anna, I bumped into a wall. I said, "Really? Couldn't have told me I'm going into a wall???" She started laughing hysterically. "What?" "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm no wall." I turned around. He definitely wasn't a wall. "Witty remarks are really unnecessary." I said. He put his arms up in surrender. "I am sorry that I bumped into you though." “Don’t worry, it could have been someone not as pretty as you.” “Thank you, I think. I’m going to go now. Bye Anna!” as I was walking out I heard Anna talking to the man.

Next day, I was sitting in the park, trying to write something on the elections but it was a no go. I was closing my laptop when I felt someone sit beside me. I looked to my right and saw the guy from the coffee shop. “What does ‘Z’ stand for?” “What are you doing here?” I asked, “Are you following me?” “No, I was walking, and I saw a familiar face, thought I say ‘Hi’. What does ‘Z’ stand for?” “It stands for Zebra.” “Really?” “No, of course not, it stands for Zoya.” “Oh that’s a nice name, is it yours? What does it mean?” “Yes, of course it’s mine. It means ‘life’”I said. “And you are?” “Nikolai.” he looked at his watch, “As much as I liked this encounter, I must go now.” “Bye?” He bowed to his waist, “Farewell.”

I snoozed my alarm three times, but it kept ringing. Then I realised it's not a regular alarm, it's a Genya alarm. "What is it, Kostyk?" I said into the phone. "Oooh!" she exclaimed, "Kostyk, that sounds nice. Not used to it though." "I know that's why I said it. What's the rush?" "It's Saturday." "Oka-" "ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU FORGOT OUR WEEKLY MEETING???" "Don't yell," I said. "Of course I didn't forget, you'd kill me if I did. I just didn't think it'd be this early." "Early?" she asked, "Zoya it's 11:00 in the morning!" "Oops? Okay, well, I'm obviously awake now, so what were you thinking of doing?" I asked. "The Zoo! Winter is coming, and I want to see all the summer animals before they stop going out." "Sure, meet you at the park in two hours?" "Yeah, love you!" she said, and hung up. I got up and went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. It was empty, guess I forgot to go to the store. So I decided to go to a bakery down the street, hoping they still have something warm. Luckily for me, they did. I bought two dollars worth of mini-whinnies and got back home. It was a relatively sunny day, so I sat at the balcony. And for a Saturday, it wasn't really busy. Besides Genya days, Saturdays are usually the farmers market days too. Most people don't have time to buy groceries during the week. I looked up to the Grand Palace. Tourists always said it was the most beautiful building in Os Alta, but I could never see it. It's not ugly, I just found the Little Palace more interesting. The Grand Palace is like any other palace ever, with big towers and shiny roofs, I can see that in any place that had a royal dynasty. But only we have a huge library with a fountain next to the royal Palace. I looked at my watch and yelped, I'm gonna be late!, I thought. I changed from my sweats and tee, and put on jeans, a jumper and boots, In case it rains. Took the leather jacket and keys from the hanger and ran out. The park wasn't far from my apartment so I walked. When I got to our usual meeting spot, Genya was already there. I waved apologetically. She rolled her eyes: "At least you're here, let's go!" "Fine, fine, I'm going!", I laughed. We sat in her car and went to the zoo. During the ride we talked about what we did during the week, how's married life and how's David in general, but all that was dropped the moment we walked through the gates of the zoo. First we saw the birds; pigeons, eagles and those funny colored ones that sing. Next animals were sheep, llama and deer. Their cages were around a pavilion that had horses and ponies you could ride, but those are mostly for kids. Few years back, Genya asked if we could ride but they wouldn’t let us. She said “it wasn’t fair that only kids can do fun stuff…” and continued to tell me how when she has kids they will be free to do whatever they want. We walked next to the deer cage. David loves them so every time we’re here we tend to stay a bit longer. Today we saw there was a new addition to the family. On the cage it said she was a doe named Lola. Next stop were the ostridges and the emus, we skipped those, mostly because one ostridge bit me a few years back when I tried to feed it. Genya got it on camera. On the other side of the sidewalk were the bison, and we always acted as if they were the flying bison from Avatar: the Last Airbender. We named all of them Appa. The seals were sleeping so we went to the reptiles instead. Most of the snakes were also sleeping, as was the aligator so we decided to skip the hippoes too and went to see the wolves. Though they didn't pay attention to us as they were eating. The monkeys were mostly shitting onto their hands and throwing it at each other… The petting zoo was empty so we had all the little goats to ourselves! When I was a kid, and my mom still my mom, I tried to take one of the goats with me home, but I couldn’t carry it alone so it stayed in the petting zoo. When we got to the bears most of them were in the water, but there was one who went in circles around his pond, like he was trying to catch fish. Lions were lying around, hyenas were laughing at the visitors, which is not creepy at all… At that point we got tired and went to the big pond where the ducks and the swans are. I sat on a bench while Genya bought ice cream. “Strawberry?” she asked. I just nodded. "So," she started, "you're not seeing anyone, right?" I choked, "What?!" "Are you seeing anyone?" "Where is that coming from?!" "David recently got together with a childhood friend and when he got home, he said you'd like him and that you should go on a date." she said, casually. "Genya, you know I'm not the one for dating…" She touched her eye-patch and looked away. "I know, but just try? I mean, just meet with him, then decide what to do. Not everyone is like Alex…" I sighed, "Sure, wh-" "REALLY?", she exclaimed. "Yes, chill. Who is he?" "Oh, oh… I have no idea. David just called him Sobachka, but-" "Genya…" "But he can't be bad if he's friends with David. If you don't feel like staying, I'll pull you out." "Okay, Pinkie Promise?", I asked, and she smiled, "Cross my heart, hope to fly!" We threw the rest of our cones to the ducks, passed the safari animals, and finished this year's last visit to the zoo. Next to the zoo is an empty parking lot that has a small adventure park. Ever since I befriended Genya, after the zoo we go to the ferris wheel and the bumper cars.

Since I agreed to go on a blind date I decided it was best to do it in a familiar setting. So I told Genya that I wanted it to be in a coffee shop near my flat. I put on my battle armor, jeans and a sweater, and went out. The streets were empty, even for a weekday. I went into the shop and looked around to see a familiar face. Anna, behind the counter, Gennie in the corner, drawing probably. I sat in my usual place next to the window and waited. Anna came by the table. “Hey, what can I get you?” I looked up, “Nothing yet, I’m on a date…” “That’s a new one, how did that happen?” “I was out with Genya and she suggested it. And it’s Genya, she thinks he’s good, and she would not stop until I said yes so I’m here to see what happens.” She smiled, “Well, I’m sure it can’t be that bad.” “Yeah,” I said and looked behind her, “Gennie’s calling for you.” She turned around, “Oh, I better get that, she’s trying out a new technique.” Then she left. The set time was 17:00, I came a little earlier, just in case. I took my phone out of my pocket to see the time. He’s late. Door opened and Nikolai came in, he looked around and rolled his eyes when he saw me. He came and sat at the chair opposite of me. “Honestly Zoya, is it not tiring to follow me? You could just ask for my number.” I scoffed; ”Don’t flatter yourself I’m here for a date.” His eyes widened, “Come again?” “You thought you were-” “You’re a friend of David’s.” “What? How do you know that?” I asked. He scratched his head, “I, oh Saints…” “You’re my date, aren’t you?” “I would seem so.” I frowned, “Hey, don’t look so pissed I didn’t know either.” “Do you want to do this?” I asked. “I don't see why not.” he said. “I have no expectations, we sit and talk. If we click, cool. If not, we had an interesting afternoon. Deal?” He put his hand out. I shook it; “Zoya Nazyalenski, nice to meet you.” “Nikolai, my pleasure.” he smiled. Anna came by again, “This, it’s hilarious.” she said. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks that.” Nikolai replied. She laughed; “ What can I get you?” “I’ll have a Frappe.” I said, “ What do you want?” Nikolai looked at me, then at Anna, “I’ll have what she’s having, and a plate of biscuits.” Anna nodded, “Coming right up.” “So,” I started, “do we start again, or do we just continue where we left off?” “We continue, can't pretend like you’re not my biggest fan.” i laughed, “Yeah, keep telling yourself that. On another note, how do you know David?” “We lived in the same neighborhood when we were kids.” he said, “One day, when we were 8, there was an explosion in his garage. I was playing in my backyard when it happened, I came running to see what happened, to see if he was okay. Spoiler alert he was, but I think he burned his eyebrows off.” “What happened?” I asked eagerly. “When?” I sighed, “What caused the explosion?” “Oh.” he looked confused, “I don’t know. I never asked. And how do you know David?” “I’m afraid my story isn’t so interesting, we met at highschool.” “You went to the same school?” “Yes but we were on different courses. I took journaling, he took engineering. He wasn’t social, I barely knew him before my best friend, his now wife Genya, worked up the courage to ask him out in junior year.” “Yeah, he definitely wasn’t a social butterfly. I was really surprised when I heard he was getting married.” “But I didn’t see you at the wedding.” I stated. “My father got sick, I couldn’t come” “I’m sorry to hear that.” he smiled; “I’m not, he’s an ass” “Who’s an ass?” Anna came with our order. “His father.” “My father” we said at the same time. I looked at him and smiled, he winked at me. “I see where you get it form” He gasped; “you didn’t” “I did.” Anna facepalmed. “I can see this is going great, so I’m gonna go.” “Thank you Anna.” Nikolai said. She waved him off. “Since we’re basically playing 20 questions, what else do you want to know?” I asked. He looked out the window, “Cliche, but, what is your favorite season and why?” “Winter, because there is nothing better than a wool jumper. My turn. Why does David call you Sobachka?” “This got very personal, very fast.” “Oh,” i said, “I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” “No it’s okay, no one is ever that direct with me.” he said and ate his last biscuit. “Why? Is it because you’re in this year's elections?” “I thought you didn’t recognise me.” “Oh please, I’m writing an article about you and the other guy” “Huh, he really is ‘the other guy’” he said. “So, are you going to tell me what’s behind your nickname?” “Right, ugh, I’m not my father's son, my mom cheated. Not many people know this. The ones who do call me Sobachka, y’know, like a dog.” “That’s rough buddy… So it doesn’t bother you?”I asked. “No, not really.” I chuckled, “Not many people are like that.” Indeed they are not.” he looked at his watch, “This has been fun, but I’m afraid I must go now. I would like to see you again.” “I would like to see you too.” I smiled.

I was walking down the stairs when I heard my phone ring. “Hello?” “Hi, is this Zoya?”said the voice. “Yes, and you are?” I sighed as I got to the bottom and went to check my mailbox. “Is my voice so plain to you that you do not remember it?” “Nik, it’s not like I have your number saved in my phone. How may I help you this fine evening?” “I was wondering if you are free tonight? For a stroll in the park.” “We saw each other two days ago!” “Please? I need a friendly companion.” he paused, “We’ll eat doughnuts?” “How dare you use doughnuts against me?! Of course I’ll come. Meet in front of the Little Palace fountain in an hour? “Done. I’ll see you there.” I smiled fondly. “Bye Nik.” During the past few weeks I have been seeing him more and more. One Saturday he and David tagged along on our weekly meeting. I got out of the building and went across the street. There were lots of cars so I decided against calling a taxi. It wasn’t a long walk to the Little Palace, but I had to go to the Library first. There weren't many people in the Library so it was a quick stop. The Librarian, Kuwei, is a friend of Nina’s so I paused to chat with him, but he had work to do so I left him to it. When I got to the fountain, Nikolai was already there. I kissed him on the cheek and sat next to him. “What’s up?” He picked up a bag and gave it to me, “Doughnuts first.” “Honestly I don’t know how can someone not like you.” I said and took a bite of the doughnut. “So good…” “Me or the doughnut?” he asked. “What?” “You said it’s good. Me or the doughnut?” “Oh,” I laughed, “definitely the doughnut!” “HA-HA, very funny. Look I didn’t want to ask you, but I really need help with my speech.” I wiped my mouth to get rid of any leftover sugar and took out a notepad out of my bag. “Sure, what's it about?” “Well, this showing is supposed to be about children. Their education, the schools, hospitals, even orphanages.” he rubbed his neck. “That’s great, children should be taken care of, we know that first hand.” “Yeah, but I don’t know how to phrase it. I thought you could help with that.” “Of course. You’re gonna tell me everything that you want to say, we’ll write that down and work our way from there.” We were working on the speech until the sun went down. I looked up at him and said:”It’s getting late, I should go…” Nikolai scratched his head, “Yeah, no, of course, we’ll see eachother on David's birthday, right?” “Yes. This has been fun, I’d like to be more involved with your campaign if you’ll have me.” “You’re always welcome, always.” he hugged me, “I’ll see you in a few days. Bye Zoya.” “Bye Nik.”

“Botkin is making a reunion.” “What, when?” “I don’t know, some time after today.” Genya said. “Hold on, how do you know that?” “Didn’t he call you?” “Not that I know. Wait let me check,'' I took my phone from the table and looked at my phone log, “Oh, right I do have a missed call from an unknown caller. But do I really have to go, I mean I’ll see everyone I like tonight.” Genya sighed, “Zoya, it’s a party, you are going, you are going to have fun.” “But-” “End of discussion.” “EnD oF dIsCuSsIoN” I mocked her. “Oh, piss off. Just don’t be late.” “That’s you Kostyk. Gotta go, love you!” I ended the call. We are celebrating David’s birthday tonight, I had to go and buy him a gift. A normal person would have done that by now, but I just love to do everything last minute. I dressed up, took my wallet and went out to the hardware store. It started to rain during the taxi ride, I was, naturally unprepared for that, thus making me a bit damp when I entered the store. One of the older workers came up to me and said:”A bit unexpected, isn’t it?” “You have no idea.” I replied. “How can I help you?” “It’s my friend's birthday, and he likes to repair regular household items, or just make up new things, so i thought to buy him a new tool kit because his old one is really worn out and probably very rusty or just damaged.” “Right.”he said, “Would you like a completely new tool box, or separate objects and a tool box?” I looked around, “Well, if it were for you what would you get?” “Is there a price range?” “Not really, no. But let’s not make it more than a weekly paycheck.” After a series of isles and relentless explaining of different brands of the same monkey wrench, he recommended a box with wrenches of all sizes, seven different screwdrivers and some kind of special doorknob key that is also in different sizes and very useful. When I bought the tool box, I went to the liquor store to buy Genya’s favorite wine, but the rain hadn’t stopped. I was dripping wet when I came to their apartment. I knocked, twice, when David opened the doors, he went in for a hug, I put my finger up “No, no, we’ll do that when I’m dry.” He shrugged. “If you say so.” “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” “Thank you Zoya, come on in.” he let me through.I pointed my finger at Genya, “See, not late! And not the last one to get here.” “Not to burst your bubble, but you are the last one.” it was Mal. I looked around, Mal and Alina were on the couch, Nina sitting beside them. Toyla was on the armchair next to the couch. Tamar and Nadia were on the loveseat opposite the couch, near the kitchen. Leoni and Adrik on the floor beside them. Genya was on a stool, her back turned. “No I'm not, Nik isn’t here”. I took off my jacket, and sat on the edge of the couches arm rest.. “Nikolai isn’t coming, his father got worse. Didn’t he tell you?” “No…” I took my phone out of my pocket, “I really need to get this serviced, don’t I?” Nina raised a glass and said: “Yes, yes you do.” I stuck out my tongue to her, “Shut up.” “To change the topic, Zoya, are you going to the reunion?” Leoni asked. I groaned. “Yes… But I don’t really want to.” “Why is that that?” “I don’t like people from highschool, plus, half of them hate me because I acted like a bitch. “ i said, “You all are enough for me.” “That’s cute.” Adrik said. I smiled, “Yeah, cute. And honestly what can we do there and not here? I mean the only highlight of that reunion is Botkin.” Genya looked at me, “Zoya. You are going. You can Ask Nikolai to come with you.” “I doubt Nik would say yes. It’s a highschool reunion full of people he doesn’t know.” “You’d be surprised.” said Alina. “And with that comment we conclude this topic...” I said.

“That’s enough talking about food, It’s making me hungrier than I already am.” David said after an intense discussion of ‘Are Waffles Better Than Pancakes’. If you ask Nina, they are. Though, for Nina, waffles are better than anything. David stood up, “The boys and I will go to Jess’ to get pizza, you try to be nice and leave some wine for us, okay?” We started to laugh, “We’ll do our best.” said Tamar. “Oh, do you think Darina’s working?” asked Tolya. “Why?” asked Mal. “Well, she likes to draw, if she’s working, we could ask that she draws David with ketchup on one pizza, and write ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ on the other.” “Huh, could be fun.” said Adrik, as he went after the others and walked out of the flat. “Bring umbrellas, it’s still raining!” yelled Nadia after them, “Idiots…” she muttered. I looked at Genya, “Kostyk.” “What?” “Go bring out the good wine.” I said. “Ooh, yes, bet! Alina, with me, we need to find the wine.” They stood up, and went to the kitchen. "Okay," Tamar started, "so there's this game Tolya and I used to play as kids, when the boys get back do you want to try?" "Yeah, sure." I said and turned my head towards the kitchen, "Girls, Tamar has a game idea, come here!" They stumbled back to the living room. Alina sat down and asked "What's the name of the game?" "Um, I don't really know? We always called it Nervous Breakdown, cause no one would believe Tolya, but I think it's called Werewolves." she said. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" yelled Leoni. "I think I know that game, but we called it Mafia. You played it with cards?" Genya sighed, "That's great and all, but we don't know how to play." "True." I pitched in. "Okay, so this is kinda complicated so no interruptions and questions are after I explain how the game works, cool?" Tamar asked. "Yes mom." we said in usion. "Genya, go grab the cards, rest of you sit around the table." When Genya got back and sat down, Tamar started to take the playing cards. She started explaining: "Point if the game is to find out who's the werewolf. We sit in a circle. Everybody has a card that's in front of them, that's your card and there's a card in the middle. After you see what's your card and what role are you playing you put it down and don't touch it. You put your hand next to it and close your eyes. Then when I say your role you wake up and do your roles part "Since it's seven of us there's eight playing cards. Two Jokers, they're the werewolf, they change the middle card with anyone's card and touch the person who's card they changed. But they touch with the card not the hand. Nod if you understood." We all nodded. "Then there's a Queen, she's the helper for the werewolfs, she wakes the same time as them and does nothing during that time, but when we all wake she tries to convince the rest of us that she's the werewolf so we'd kill her instead of the real werewolf so that the werewolfs would win. "Then there's the Jacks, he's a psychic, he can see anybody's card and the middle one, but he doesn't touch and he can't see his card in case it's been changed during the werewolf time. "Next up is King, he's a thief. He changes his card with anybody's card and touches the person who's card he changed. And then there's the Aces who are villagers and do nothing." she finished. I looked at all of them one by one and started laughing. Everyone was throwing a fit, there were a lot of spilled drinks. "No joke now, I think we could try, but everytime someone makes a mistake we drink!" Nina said. "You're gonna be the first one!" We started laughing again. And after a few more useless tries, we got serious. They all had so many questions that took a long time answering, boys got back with food before we could even play. So as we ate, we tried to convince them to play, but it was useless since they were drunk off their minds. To be fair I wasn't much better. We spent the night eating and drinking. Mostly drinking. And eating. It was getting late, most of the group left. Alina, Mal and I were still at the flat. David and Mal were talking in the kitchen, Alina was in the bathroom. Genya and I were on the floor.“Zoya?” “Yeah?” “You’re drunk, right?” asked Genya. I looked up and back down, the room was wobbly. “Yeah, definitely.” “Do you like Nikolai?” “Of course I like Nik, he’s a great friend.” She shook her head, “Do you like Nikolai? Like, like-like.” “Oh…” “Well?” “I- no. Maybe, how does one know that? Is there a test I can do online?” Genya started squealing, “HA! I knew it!” She turned toward the kitchen, “I raise my bet to 20 dollars!” But I didn’t hear that. I was thinking of Nikolai, of his face when we see each other.

I came home from Genya and David’s. I showered and put on my pajamas. I fell asleep. I woke up. My phone was ringing. It’s election day. I fell asleep. I woke up. I tried to write. I tried to eat. I fell asleep. I woke up. I got another text. “We won the election. -Nik”. I fell asleep. I woke up. I failed to write. I failed to eat. I fell asleep.

When I finally decided it was time to get out of the house, I went to Dragon Scale. It was extremely windy outside so I put on a beanie. When I walked in, my head was bowed, I went full face into someone. “I’m so sorry.” I said and continued forward,when someone took my hand. I turned around and saw Nikolai. “Zoya.” “Hi.” “Why didn’t you answer my calls? Genya said you were alright but you scared me to death!” I just stared, "Zoya, talk to me!" "Can we go and sit?" I asked. He followed me as I went to the corner booth and sat down, Nikolai a few steps behind me. "I got really drunk at Genya and David's. And I said something to Genya. And I got scared, because if it's true it might end bad for me, just like last time." "What are you talking about?" "i was in many relationships, but none were very serious until I met this guy, it was years ago, when I was in highschool. He was older than me, and I really liked him, at the beginning. But as it went on I realised he was being toxic. It… escalated." "Ecsalated how? Did he hurt you?" Nikolai asked. "No, not me, but Genya. You know that eye-patch she wears?" He nodded. "He did that, I don't know how, I was at work when it happened. I asked her to tell me but she refused, I just stopped pushing." I bowed my head. "Zoya." I looked up. "Nik, if I were to tell you that I was in love with someone, what would you do?" "I tell you that I'm happy for you and that he is an extremely lucky guy." He looked kinda sad. "And what if I told you that I'm in love with you, what would you do?" He shot up in his seat. "What?" I smiled, "I'm in love with you Nik." "I-" "Do with that what you will, but I don't want it, this, to ruin our friendship." "I'm afraid it did." He got up, leaned across the table and kissed me.

Next month was full of TV screening and restless nights as Nik and I wrote his speeches. But Botkins' reunion was soon, so he would take a few days off to have fun. I spent every free moment with Genya and Alina, shopping for the reunion. As much as I didn't want to go, shopping was fun. Genya found a dress in the same shade as her hair and Alina found a bodysuit in black and gold. I had a really hard time finding something I like. But the day before I found a perfect dress in victorian blue. Nik wore a gray suit and had this beautiful waist coat. When we got to the ball room in the Little Palace, it was already full, but we kept close to the outer ring. Most of the people were dancing, even Genya and David, but I went to talk to Botkin. "Mr. Botkin." He turned to face me, "Oh, Zoya dear, how has life been treating you?" That was his signature line, "Good. I just wanted to see how have you been doing?" "Never better dear." he looked behind me, "Now go off, there's a handsome young man waiting for a dance." "What?" I turned around and saw Nik. "Oh, thank-" he was already off to talk to someone else. I walked towards Nik. He bowed, "May I have this dance?" I looked around, nobody seemed to notice us. "Yes, yes you may." The music changed to a slow dance. We twirled around, and around. Once we stopped, I realised we were alone on the dance floor and there was a light on me. I turned to face Nik, but he was kneeling on the floor. "Nik," I said carefully, "what are you doing?" He took a box out of his inner pocket and opened it. Inside was the most beautiful emerald I have ever seen. I knew what it ment. “Would you do it?” he asked. I looked up at him, puzzled, "What?" "Well, y'know…" "No, I don't." He sighed: "Make me the happiest man alive. Would you do it?" "Yes." He got up and hugged me, I thought I was going to fall over, when these balloons started falling from the ceiling. I kissed him. "I love you." I said. He smiled, "I know." And kissed me again. When all the balloons fell, Genya came through. "Do you like it?" she asked. "What? Wait, how do you know?" "Oh silly we all knew." I looked around to see my friends standing around us, laughing. Mal said: "We had a bet on when are you getting official." Tolya raised a hand, "I won!" "You lot are unbelievable! Come one, you are being punished, this is a group hug!" That night ended up to be one of my favorites.

I didn't want to wait. We booked a venue for our closest friends. Genya bought me my wedding dress for "being strong, and being my best friend". It was a floor length dress with long sleeves. Top of my hair was in a bun, while the bottom part flowed in the wind. Alina even bought me a crown. I was walking down the aisle when someone came bursting in. I turned to see who it was. "I don't know why am I surprised, you always were a bitch." Genya answered, "What do you want Alexander?" Nik ran down to me and took my hand, "That's him?" he whispered. "Yes, stay here." I told him. "What do you mean "what do I want"? Isn't there a part when I get to the object?" I looked at him. "Alex, if you do not walk out right now, I'm gonna call the cops." "They didn't stop me then, they won't stop me now." "Ugh, you're so full of yourself." I said. Long story short, the cops stopped him. We continued with the ceremony. The priestess looked at me, then Nik and said: "If you went through that, on you wedding day, you can go through anything. Are the vows really necessary?" We shook our heads. "Then, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." And oh boy did he kiss me.

We're at McDonald's. And we're celebrating. Genya took her milkshake and stood up. Everyone followed her. "For our friends, may they have a long, happy life. Cheers!" There was a long choir of cheers going around. I sat back and looked at Nik and his Happy Meal, "Is it too early to get a divorce?" He looked me and said, with his mouth full of french fries: "Why'd gou go dhat?"

#grishabigbang #gvbbfic20 #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #zoyalai #modern au #genya safin #david kostyk #alina starkov #mal oretsev #tamar kir bataar #tolya yul bataar #nina zenik #nadia #adrik #leoni

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chuffyfan87 · 5 years

Text

Hiding. Part 30b (NSFW)

Trigger warnings for discussion of abuse and neglect.

-x-

All sensible thought flew from her mind as the powerful feelings of arousal took over her body.

They ended up making love right there on the kitchen floor.

"Oh fuck yes!" She moaned as Charlie rolled her onto her back, his thrusts increasing in speed and power.

He began to suck at the weak spot on her neck as he thrust harder.

Her words became incoherent as her moans became louder.

“Ssh.” He whispered in her ear with a laugh.

"Make me!" She giggled.

He kissed her ear before he began to rub her clit, hoping she’d orgasm because he was close to the edge himself and, like the gentleman he was, he wanted her to come first.

"Oh fuck!" She screamed.

Thank God the children were heavy sleepers was all Charlie could think as he thrust hard for a final time and climaxed.

They lay in a tangled heap on the floor for a few minutes before Duffy shifted slightly to survey the mess. "Shit!" She muttered.

“You’re so messy. Anyone ever told you that?” He grinned cheekily.

"Me? Look at you!"

“That’s cos you chucked the stuff at me.” He protested with a pout.

"You shouldn't have left the can on the counter. It was far too tempting."

“Of course it was.” He kissed her tenderly, “Love you.”

"Love you too." Her stomach began to rumble. "Seems I've worked up an appetite." She giggled as she wriggled free from under him, grabbed the plate of pancakes and a fork, returning to sit cross legged on the floor next to him.

As she was eating the pancakes, Charlie began to tidy up the kitchen and make it more presentable.

"Do you not want any?" She asked, waving a forkful of pancakes in his direction.

“I’m alright. Made them especially for you!”

"There's a whole stack! You trying to fatten me up or something?"

“No of course not.”

"At this rate I'll never get back into my favourite jeans." She pouted playfully.

“Duffy, you’re beautiful!”

"Even covered in whipped cream, chocolate sauce and..?" She smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“Certainly. You always look best when you’re covered in...” He smirked.

She placed the last mouthful into her mouth, chewing it slowly before swallowing. She pushed herself from the floor and placed the plate back on the counter. "A moment on the lips..." She mused.

He sighed and stood in front of her, “Sweetheart?”

"Mmm?"

“Is your weight still bothering you?”

"We should go clean ourselves up before the kids come downstairs."

“Now you’re avoiding my question.”

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice that!"

“Talk to me, please?”

"We need to get cleaned up!" She replied, heading towards the stairs.

He sighed, she was bloody stubborn when she wanted to be! He followed her upstairs to their bedroom, “I don’t care about your weight, Duffy! For someone who’s had two pregnancies within a year, you’re looking pretty hot!”

She wasn't listening as she opened her bedside drawer to put her new jewellery inside. As she did her eyes caught something else and she froze.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asked noticing her reaction.

She held up the item towards him, the early morning sunlight glinting off the shiny packaging.

“What about it?” He asked. And then it dawned on him. “Oh...”

"I wasn't thinking..."

“We’re fine.” He replied and made her sit down on the bed.

"You want to take that risk? After last time?"

“I had the snip remember?” He stroked her cheek, “And on my last test, there was no sperm present.”

"You sure?" She asked anxiously.

“I wouldn’t lie to you baby.” He reassured.

"I can't go through that again." She fretted. "Five kids is more than enough!" She sighed as she laid back on the bed.

“Six including Louis and yes, they are.” He smiled.

"This year I planned to be wiser rather than just more sensible... That went out the window pretty quickly didn't it?"

“It was obviously my fault for distracting you.”

"I think most people would say we're as bad as each other!" She giggled.

He laughed and nodded, “Yeah I think we are.”

She ran her hands up his chest and pulled him down onto the bed next to her.

“I love you.” He smiled, “It’s so tough sometimes, trying to tell you how much I love you in front of our brood. But I wouldn’t change it. Not for anything.”

"Neither would I. We took our wandering way about it but we got there in the end."

“Yeah we did.”

"Worth it though." She smiled as she ran her fingers down his cheek.

He went to kiss her but they were interrupted by Emily's giggles over the monitor. Charlie went to fetch her whilst Duffy attempted to wash her face.

A few moments later he arrived back in the bedroom with the giggling toddler who immediately held out her hands towards her mum. "Urgh, you're all sticky!" Duffy exclaimed.

“Because she put her hands all over her sticky daddy.”

"And that's not at all daddy's fault is it?"

“No.” He smiled brightly.

Emily placed her hands on her mum's face. "Oh I've just washed my face you little monkey!"

It took a few hours but finally everyone was cleaned up and dressed for the day. The boys were good, had been nice to each other all morning before school.

Duffy looked up as the doorbell rang. She walked to the door and opened it, surprised to find a huge bunch of flowers waiting for her.

“Do I have competition?” Charlie joked when he saw the size of the flowers.

She searched the bouquet for a card. Finding an envelope she opened it. "I haven't forgotten." She read aloud. "What could that mean?"

“Could they be from Andrew?” He asked.

"Why would he send me flowers on my birthday?"

“I don’t know.” He was gently tickling Lottie and Tilly’s tummies.

She sighed. She was about to say more when the doorbell went again.

“Wish I was this popular on my birthday.” He called jokingly.

She opened the door to find her mum on the other side.

Kate pulled her daughter into a hug, “Happy birthday Lisa!”

"Thanks mum. Come in." She smiled.

As she arrived in the kitchen Kate noticed the flowers. "Ooh freesias! My favourites. Did Charlie buy them?” She asked.

"No, the card doesn't say who they're from."

“Andrew?”

"I don't think so. They're not really his style." Duffy commented.

“Secret admirer perhaps?” Kate asked smiling.

Charlie continued to play with the twins, Emily was having a nap on the sofa.

"Oh don't be daft mum!" Duffy grumbled.

"Don't be so quick to dismiss it. I had an admirer who would send me freesias." Kate smiled at the memory.

"Who?" Duffy asked, she hadn't been aware of any suitors in her mum's life.

“I never knew their name. But every week for a whole year, I got sent freesias. I suspected it was Jerry from the church but I couldn’t prove anything.” Kate answered.

"When was that? You never said!"

“A couple of years ago.”

"For a horrible moment I thought you were going to say that my dad used to send you freesias!" Duffy laughed awkwardly.

“Your father was never romantic enough to do anything like that.”

"So it's not like he'd send me something like those then?" Duffy pressed.

Kate shrugged, “I don’t know. Maybe. Why? Do you think they’re from your father?”

"Oh I don't know. I doubt he'd even remember me." She shrugged noncommittally, moving to make herself a coffee.

“That’s not true.” Kate replied.

"Every birthday I think 'maybe this'll be the year' but it's never going to be is it?" Duffy hissed.

“He made his choice! He walked away because he was a coward and couldn’t handle being a father! Or a husband for that matter!”

"Just shut up! You've never had a nice thing to say about him ever!" Duffy shouted before she fled the room and ran upstairs.

Kate was really surprised by Lisa’s outburst. Hearing shouting, Charlie sighed and popped his head out from the lounge door. “Everything ok?”

Kate opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the sound of the bedroom door slamming upstairs. She sighed. "I thought my daughter had grown out of tantrums by now."

“Would you like me to go and talk to her?” Charlie suggested with a sigh.

"Well I doubt she'll talk to me." Kate replied. "I suggest you duck as you walk through the door though."

He laughed gently, “Don’t worry, I know.”

"Maybe she thinks if she behaves like the toddler she was then he'll come back and it'll all be sunshine and roses." Kate sighed. She sat down at the table. "He was no good for her but she just can't see it!"

“It’s not easy for her Kate. She was rejected by the one person who was supposed to love and protect her.” He pointed out.

"She idolised him. Still does. She was barely 3 when he left. For years all she would talk about was the afternoon he took her on the swings. Strangely enough she doesn't seem to remember what happened that same night."

“Maybe because it’s too painful for her.” He smiled sadly, “I’ll go and see what’s wrong?”

"He left her on her own in that flat all night Charlie! While he went out drinking with his mates."

“He did what?” He swallowed. “Why as a father would you even do that?”

"By the time I got home from work the heating had run out and she'd been sick on her bedroom floor."

“Has she ever spoke about what happened?” He asked as he got to the bottom of the stairs. “The twins are awake if you want to interact with them? They’re on their playmat. Boys are at school, Emily’s having a nap on the sofa.”

"Not a word. Maybe she'll talk to you. I'll go sit with the girls."

He smiled sadly, “I won’t be long.” He went upstairs and knocked on the bedroom door. “Sweetheart?”

"If you've come up here coz she's sent you then you can go away!" She cried through the door.

He opened the door and closed it behind him. “Talk to me?”

"I'm sure mum told you everything you need to know."

He moved and sat on the edge of the bed. “The flowers were from your dad, weren’t they?”

"Who else would send them? But why no details?"

“I wish I could answer your question.” He replied.

"Maybe the florist will have them!" She suddenly brightened.

“Maybe he doesn’t want to be found?”

"But why?"

“I don’t know sweetheart.” He placed his hand against her cheek. “You idolised him, didn’t you?”

"He was my dad, what little girl wouldn't?"

He smiled sadly, “He shouldn’t have left you.”

"It was my fault for getting sick. If I hadn't been then he would have taken me with him like he did other times."

#chuffy #charlie and duffy #charlie fairhead #lisa duffin

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whirlybirbs · 6 years

Note

medic!reader and sniper!bucky first meeting please! with the prompt “let me take you out on a date”

------ first meeting between the medic!reader & the howling commandos, ft. not-sold bucky and a lot of lovesick steve/peggy feels.

i’m glad so many of you liked this! my wwii!bucky is not so stereotypical -- a little colder, a little bit more distanced and not so womanizing. i’m excited to develop the #duckandcover ship!

“She’s good, Steve -- really good. I can’t say enough about her.”

Peggy matches his stride, fingers clutching the docket on the woman in question. Her lips, red and smirking, move quickly as she speaks outside of tent of C.P. and she hands the manila folder off with graceful ease. Her boots sink into the mud.

“And what am I supposed to do with this?” Steve asks, brows raised. He thumbs through the pages, eyes your record and your enlistment photo. The rain makes the pages curl.

You’re pretty.

Bucky’s type.

Peggy smiles, bright and dizzying and it makes Steve’s heart sing.

“Think about it. The Commandos need a medic.”

And they did. They really did.

The growing reliance on field hospitals was getting a little pitiful, actually, and Steve’s growing concern about his men was getting out of hand -- it was well warranted, though. After all, Falsworth had managed to duck through sniper fire only last week and come out of it with only a shred of shrapnel lodged in his left ass-cheek.

It had made for laughs, but the Howling Commandos needed someone to keep them together; stitches and morphine and bandages included.

And you.

Phillips was impressed, Peggy was impressed -- hell, you’d made this camp your own a week in; going off book and ducking into the forest surrounding Marigny to haul wounded men back in a crumbling jeep, dodging sniper fire and German artillery in the meanwhile. The stunt had gotten you a stamp of approval, earned you an accommodation and a shiny medal and a letter from the president.

And a reference for the Howling Commandos.

Steve finds Peggy later that week -- Operation Cobra was slowing rolling, but every inch was proving worth it, and if the boys could barrel past the Germans this fast, maybe there was hope they’d be home for Christmas.

But, after the company is looking worse for wear.

Peggy seems proud he puts in word for this new medic’s reassignment, promising she’ll be worth it.

You get your re-assignment on a Friday, and that night you’re shipped back from the front-lines to the cozy position within Marigny. You ride back with a quiet Corporal named Turner who says nothing, only waves you off with a salute after dropping you in the stirring Ally-occupied town.

The villas are crumbling from the bombardments and warfare that’s swept through this area as part of Operation Cobra, but part of you is thankful to be back -- it’s quieter here. No mortar fire or screaming or shots in the night.

Just soldiers trying to get by.

Peggy nearly bursts at the seams when she sees you, sweeping you into a mutually respected salute and a soft squeeze of the arm.

“Come on,” she says, “Let’s get you settled with your new company.”

The thrown-together tent that the Commandos called home was empty, save for some tossed sheets over cots and bags and stray ammo -- and you snag a cot by the end of the row that’s empty. Your bag doesn’t have much in it -- supplies and a journal and a handkerchief for your hair -- so you drop it and your helmet before following Peggy.

She’s slow walking as she talks.

“The men are in the pub, I believe,” she says, “Celebrating, no doubt.”

“Oh,” you breathe, “Pub?”

“A gutted out bank turned watering hole. The 107th like to think themselves the hosting types.”

You laugh, soft and controlled, fingers knitted into your pockets as she swings a hand out and catches the door open.

You have to admit you feel a bit small standing next to Agent Carter.

She’s gorgeous, really, swathed in victory curls and a red lipstick and here you are, straight off the front-lines looking like hell -- your hair is bundled under head scarf, white like the medical patch burning across your shoulder. It’s not so white anymore, though.

You toddle, shifting your weight for boot to boot -- eyes sweeping across the room.

The not-really-a-pub grows quiet at the entrance of Peggy; no doubt a call to her rank, and she dismisses to the respective silence with a wave.

It’s warmer in here, and the winter air doesn’t bite so hard through your uniform. The lull of a piano in the back calls to the two of you.

She weaves through the crowd, through the raucous cheers and drinking and straight to the bank of the room -- there, a gathering has started over a game of burn and turn. A group toddles around the piano, singing some off-tune hymn about ribbons and being far from home. You recognize Steve Roger’s nearly immediately; he’s draped over the back of the piano, chattering with the dark hair man in the blue jacket tittering on the keys.

Steve’s busy looking at Peggy -- openly admiring, actually -- to notice you.

The crowd erupts into laughter and whistles at the realization of Steve’s affections and Peggy’s spontaneous appearance in the wolf’s den. The Howling Commando’s are elated to see her. She has to wave them off to calm them down.

It’s... sweet.

“Gentlemen.”

Peggy gestures to you with a well-manicured hand and you blink, clearing your throat before stating your name and rank fast -- smile cautious and slow.

“Your new medic, boys.”

A beat of silence.

“No shit.”

It’s the man by the piano with the dark hair and dark eyes that speaks first -- he pushes himself upwards from the bench, leaning against the grand piano with a glint of interest in his eyes.

He shares a look with Steve. It’s guarded. They’re both thinking the same thing.

Bucky Barnes has never seen a broad in the field before.

He’s heard rumors about nurses getting shipped in after D-Day, there to clean up the mess, but... you? You seemed... very different from Peggy in all respects.

Pretty, though -- not very delicate looking but bright-eyed and strong.

Dum Dum Dugan is falling over himself, tripping really, to stand and shake your hand and smile. He’s laughing, a bit drunk and face twisted into a genuine grin. It’s funny, and Bucky spies Jim trying to muscle a laugh down.

“God, you look exactly like my girl back home, you know,” he says, “Jenny is her name. Sweet girl. Where you from?”

“New York, sir.”

“No shit!” Dum Dum mimics Bucky, waving to the duo, “Those boys are Brooklyn through and through, you know.”

You blink at Captain America, that poster boy, and the tall man by the piano -- when you cock your head and flash a grin, they cross their arms. “Queens.”

Steve likes you. Already. Bucky can tell.

“You’re... You’re that nurse that saved those men a couple of weeks ago, aren’t you?”

It’s Pinky that speaks next, froth from his beer littering his upper lip.

You seem to stiffen at the question, shrugging. Blinking at Peggy, she gives a nod of approval -- as if it was classified, half the town had heard you barking out orders in the field hospital and seen you tear out with that stolen jeep like a bat-out-of-hell. Everyone knew about it.

Not everyone approved.

Not every man approved.

“I got a shiny medal from it if you wanna see,” you chirp, “I asked for a decent pair of skivvies but the President said no.”

A beat of silence.

And then a roar of laughter that buckles your own sense of walls -- you laugh a bit as Dum Dum slaps the table and muscles Falsworth around.

“You oughta let me take you out some time,” says Jim, “Pretty girl with a medal? Doesn’t get any better than that.”

“That’s a girl worth fightin’ for, huh, Buck?”

“S’pose so,” Bucky, the one by the piano, says slowly, “So long she don’t get in the way. No room for stunts here.”

Steve nudges his friend, quelling the swell of skepticism.

“Ignore him,” Falsworth says, adjusting his beret and standing, “Our lovely James is just in a mood because he was hoping the new medic would be someone he could boss around -- and with a repertoire like yours, miss, I doubt you’d allow something like that.”

“Maybe if he asks nicely.”

“Not likely.”

You smirk and his lips quirk enough.

“Play the piano?” you ask, head tilting.

Bucky stiffens, stepping away from the keys. “If you buy a ticket.”

“Shame,” you mutter, “Don’t have any cash -- god know the army doesn’t pay me enough anyways.”

His laugh is ducked to his chest as he shifts from foot to foot, and Steve couldn’t be happier, really -- it shows, and Peggy shares the same sentiment.

And so the Commandos got their medic.

#duckandcover #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier imagine #wwii!bucky x reader #Anonymous

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yourhero404 · 6 years

Note

hey there! could I ask for some hc or a scenario (whatever works best for you) for tomura. he basically has this fan who has a huge crush on him. they are neither a villain or a hero and don't take sides but they are super smart and good at combat. so they track the LoV down once in a while just to leave a gift for tomura and once they managed to steal a kiss from him.

A/N: omg i went offthe rails im so sorry but i kept the overall idea??? so I really hope you likeit, i enjoyed writing it!! ^^

TOMURA

“‘Aye, Shigaraki-have you read this?”

He heavily sighed asDabi came in the room already asking him questions so early in the morning. Hewas hoping for at least a little peace today, but it seemed the universe hadother things in mind.

“If it interestedyou then no, whatever it is, I’ll be sure to stay far away from it.”

“Haha,” hedrew out sarcastically, “I think you better get interested realquick,” Dabi pressed, laying his phone on the counter in front of him.

The webpage pulled up wasan obnoxious shade of pink with large cursive font spreading across the top- aquick glace on the contents showed a lot of exclamation marks, bold, and allcaps words throughout. Annoyed, Tomura shoved the phone away from him as Togareached over her breakfast and took the opportunity to scroll its contents.

“What kind ofnonsense is that? Are you trying to make fun of me in some sort of idioticway?” he accused, irritation tickling his deadpan tone.

“Hey! That’s socool!” Toga interjected before he and Dabi could interact further. A blushspread across her face as well as some sort of love-stricken expression on herface. “Tomu has an admirer!”

A glare wouldn’t evenbegin to describe the look he gave the phone being held in her hand. Anadmirer? He knew of a few stranger occurrences lately with this one girl… butopenly admiring him? Not possible.

“'Gimme.” Hedemanded, holding his hand out. Reluctantly, she gave the phone to him as herubbed any remaining sleep from his eyes to read the disaster clearly.

“You’ve gotyourself a whacko fangirl, congrats.” Dabi teased, walking out of the roomto dodge the glass being thrown at him- he watched as Toga followed suit,rambling on about some far away hope that her crush would be her futureadmirer.

“What are the twoof them even yammering about…” he muttered, picking up the phone andreading the title out loud, “'Getting HANDSY’?” He groaned at thehorrible pun, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I think Dabi’sright Shigaraki, you should read this in its entirety. Didn’t you mention a lotof strange occurrences lately? And a strange woman who keeps bumping into you? Itcould pose to be problematic to the L.O.V. if it gets too out of hand and we’llhave to deal with her,” Kurogiri advised, prompting him to continuereading aloud.

‘TUESDAY:

HonestlyI can’t tell you guys enough how much I just love Rara!!!! And how angry Iam!!!! Has anyone watched the news lately?? Why isn’t he getting morerecognition, I want to see more of him!! :(’

“'Rara’?Really?” he only got past the first entry and found himself struggling torefrain from destroying the phone. Her personality was shining through thetext- he couldn’t help but sigh at the possibility that this girl is the sameone who’s been hanging around him for the past few months.

‘THURSDAY:

You’llnever guess what I found out!!!!! I totally bumped into Rara in town earliertoday and I almost couldn’t believe my eyes!! I got to see him up close! He’s alot cuter in person, I don’t know how others don’t see it

Another sigh. He hadconfirmation that this girl was the same as the one he had been dealing with-her post pretty much mirrored the conversation he had with a girl who had quiteliterally ran into him months ago. At the time, he thought the red tone to hercheeks had been because she was easily flustered that she bumped into him, butnow he realized the stutter was one of infatuation rather than nerves. Shestuck out in his mind because she upset him a little bit- why wasn’t shefearing him?

“She thinksyou’re cute-”

“Shut it Kurogiri.”

'FRIDAY:

Idid something naughty!! Okay, so, I’m not the type to really do bad things butI couldn’t help myself! I may… have followed Rara home yesterday! I DIDN’T GOIN! I wasn’t going to be like, really creepy or anything! I just needed it forfuture reference!!!!!!’

“Isn’t it alittle too late to be creepy?” he commented.

“She followed youhome? As in here? Shigaraki, this situation is only getting worse-”

“Don’t you thinkI know that? I can read!” He snapped.

He recalled feelingeyes on him that night; he figured it was a figment of his imagination causedby paranoia. Apparently his worries were justified in this case- but just howmuch has she seen? Has she seen inside- has she been inside? She didn’t happen to run into any of the members, right?He continued scrolling, only reading the ones that stood out, a knot in hisstomach tightening with each entry.

'WEDNESDAY:

Itook so much time trying to figure out the best gift to give Rara!! It waspretty hard… kind of like, what kind of gift do you even get for someone likehim, ya know? But I noticed him walk by a game shop a few times- I wasn’tfollowing him this time I swear!! I was just working around there!! But he keptmuttering about something… it kind of looked like he was trying to talkhimself into buying some game?? He never went in but I got the game they wereadvertising for him!!! I wrapped it up really nice and left it outside the doorto his house(? I’m not sure!!!) I just wish I could have seen him open it :(’

The scene replayed inhis head- of course he remembered it. He couldn’t decide if the game was evenworth his time since it wasn’t a strategy game therefore wouldn’t help him honein his skills as a leader so he walked away. Later, however, he had thisstrange feeling… almost as if something in the back of his mind had told himto go outside; he couldn’t shake the feeling and threw the door open, hoping toscare anyone who may be there. When he realized no one was there, somethingshiny on the ground caught his eye and he immediately became suspicious.

He brought it in andeyed it for quite a while. He was worried- as he should be- that it was somesort of trick or weapon to be used against him. Curiosity was eating him alive,causing him to scratch at his skin and grow more and more frustrated until heaggressively tore the shiny paper off of the object. He carefully inspected thegame case, making sure the plastic surrounding the case was intact; when hecame to the conclusion that was literally just a video game his face fell to ascowl, realizing the weird stalker girl he had been dealing with was likely tobe behind it.

“She leftsomething here? Did you dispose of it immediately?” Kurogiri’s voicesnapped him out of his flashback.

“Of course Idid,” he scoffed, “Why would I risk everything for a stupid gift fromsome weirdo.” Kurogiri didn’t need to know he had not only accepted thegame, and definitely didn’t need to know how he had beaten it twice since then.

He scrolled andscrolled, mindlessly announcing little things he came across that wasirrelevant but interesting enough to mention- something about college classes,something else about work, even a pretty interesting mention of how she managedto win her way out of a mugging. He had to admit she had spunk- idiotic, butspunk nonetheless.

His grip suddenlytightened on the phone, his entire body visibly tensing when he got to the mostrecent post.

“What isit?” Kurogiri asked, “Shigaraki? Read it.”

“It’snothing.”

“Here, I’ll readit myself then-” He yanked his arm away from Kurogiri’s grip, scowling ashe let out an aggravated sigh.

“Shut it. I’llread it.” He leaned his elbows against the counter, reading the post datedfor last week in a monotone voice.

'FRIDAY:

Mostpeople vow not to kiss and tell- but I’m not most people!!!!!! We kissed, wetotally kissed! It was amazing, he was totally adorable and awkward but therewere fireworks and it made my heart soar

“Kiss? Shigaraki,please, please tell me you didn’t-”

“OF COURSE WEDIDN’T!” he yelled, slamming the phone onto the counter and knockingnearby glasses to the floor. “WHY WOULD I DO SOMETHING SO… SO… SOSTUPID. SO DISGUSTING. SO-”

“Shigaraki,please, calm down. I believe you; You know not to get involved with peopleunnecessarily and let yourself get distracted-”

“She’s obviouslylying,” he seethed, “This is lies. Lies and absolute slander.”

“Of course. Justtake a moment to calm down,” he suggested as he started to leave the room,“We’ll handle the damage control later.”

He let his head fallto the counter, a loud thump following suit as his forehead slammed against thecool material. An irritated growl bubbled up his throat as repeated this actiona few times before finally laying his head down as he closed his eyes and lethis mind work.

It was a colder nightthan usual. He had gotten fed up with the girl following him only to hidebehind street-side objects or horribly act nonchalant whenever he turnedaround. Ducking into the closest alleyway and pulling her in as well when shewalked by, he threatened her with four fingers wrapped around her throat beforeleaning in close.

“Who are you andwhy the hell do you insist on bothering me,” he practically growled, hisfifth finger twitching, ready to close the gap around her neck.

“A-ah! I’m (L/n),I just…” she looked into his eyes, fear diminishing and quickly beingreplaced with infatuation as a blush spread across her skin. “I just thinkyou’re really cute and… and cool. The stuff you’re doing- it’s good! Wellit’s not good 'cause they’re stillcrimes but the meaning behind it all is cool, ya know?”

She caught him offguard. His eyes scanned every inch of her face, taking in her features andanalyzing her body language to find any suggestions that she may be lying. Deepdown, he admitted to himself that the attention and praise she offered him madehim feel ecstatic- it boosted his ego and something about it made his chesttighten. As much as he enjoyed the feeling, there was no possible way he couldlet someone as simple as her distract him from his goals, but…

Suddenly, he smashedhis lips against hers, feeling her initial shock melt away as she started tokiss back with the same amount of force. His hand dropped down and his fingertips ran down her arm as he slowly pulled away from her; his gaze clouded overwith some unknown emotion as something in the pit of his stomach fluttered.Attempting to appear stern, he threatened her once again.

“Stay away fromme,” he warned over his shoulder, walking with a quickened speed to gethis distance. “Or next time I’ll kill you.”

He wrapped his armsaround his stomach to try and force the feeling in it to go away as he turnedto lay the side of his face against the counter and snap back to reality again.So maybe it wasn’t a complete lie that they had kissed.

She caught him offguard and he let his walls fall for a moment, hoping to feel something foronce.

His eyes closed onceagain as he let out a heavy sigh, realizing the feeling in his stomach andchest was connected to what people call 'liking someone’.

But Kurogiri didn’tneed to know that.

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