The Assistant (15 of ?) | Vladimir Ranskahov x fem!reader
[original picture found on: pinterest]
✏️ Pairings:
(almost official) Vladimir Ranskahov x fem!reader
Anatoly Ranskahov x OC (Paulina) mentioned
✏️ Requested by @kellydixon01 : Y/N–hacker, big mouth, even bigger attitude–is the new addition to Fisk’s team. Sent to help the Ranskahovs, she immediately gets on Vladimir’s nerves. But as time passes, they start to take a liking to each other, even if none of them is willing to admit their feelings. Yet.
✏️ Previously on The Assistant (aka I’m shit at updating): Y/N has moved in with Vladimir and the two have found themselves growing closer. There’s only one problem: Vlad’s old friend Ulyana thinks the two are a couple and has invited them over for dinner to celebrate.
✏️ A/N: y’all. Y’ALL. First off, I just want to apologize, it’s been forever and a month since I updated this; I’m not even sure there are still people reading/that remember this story apart from Alice lol. It took us me 144 pages !!! but it’s finally happening. Enjoy! I literally cried when I wrote the end of this chapter because it was about fucking time!
✏️ Warnings: fluff; and tears, but those were mine as I wrote this lol; Sergei has a doggie!; a smidge of swearing.
✏️ Word-count: 6,060
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: MATCHMAKER
Sitting on the closed toilet seat with the pipe wrench still in his hands, Vladimir could hear Y/N and Ulyana laugh in the living room. He couldn’t make out their words, for their voices were quiet despite their hilarity, and the left-ajar door of the bathroom didn’t help him any.
The most surreal situation I’ve ever experienced, that’s how Y/N had labeled it less than an hour ago, before he helped Lina bring in the tray with the cups of tea. And the more he mulled things over, the more he found himself agreeing. The most surreal situation I’ve ever experienced – and he had lived through plenty of what could be considered ‘weird shit’. Ulyana in general had been a whole exception in his book. Ulyana, with her afternoons spent playing bingo at the daily center for the elderly with all her old-lady friends; Ulyana, with her borscht and her endless words of encouragement and comfort when both he and Tolya had needed them the most.
But also Ulyana, so dead-set on the idea that he was too stiff and needed a gentle touch in his life that she just… mistook Y/N for his woman. As if he needed someone! But it was still a good thing in a way, though, he reasoned as he stood up and moved to stand in front of the sink to stare at his reflection. And probably his brother was right about the fact that he had to open up to her, tell her what he felt – and what he was scared of. And just… try, for once. Make an effort to take his private life into his own hands instead of just wasting it away on cigarettes and underground fights.
As he stood there, hands gripping the sink, wrench abandoned on the counter, he tried to focus on what existed beyond that scar on the right side of his face and all it meant. By now he was convinced that she didn’t see it – not because she didn’t want to, but because she was able to see right through it. She knew about his past, and not just about Utkin, but also about some of the stupid things he had done in his short-lived youth – he had told her about that over vodka, a bit more rarely over coffee. And while he had always had problems with that, he found himself having fewer and fewer now.
Yeah, maybe it wasn’t that bad to pretend he had someone that cared about him, and while that equaled lying to Lina, maybe it was for the greater good?
It came off as a question even in his own mind, but it was one he found himself being willing to put in the time and effort to find an answer to. It was almost stupid, to think that feelings seemed to terrify him to the bone, while he could take a gun pointed at his head any day without batting an eyelash. Because that’s what he did, that’s what the target on his back felt like.
Maybe all he needed was to grow a pair, listen to what Ulyana had always told him, and walk out there a somewhat taken man.
And not taken to the demons in his head, but to someone – a friend, maybe? – that he had learned to respect. In a way, that is; that road still seemed a long one, after all.
When he joined the two women again some twenty minutes or so later, after he had fixed the kitchen cabinet Lina had been too shy to ask him to repair, he found them leafing through an old photo album. Belka – Ulyana’s old, white cat – was snoozing in Y/N’s lap, the tip of her fluffy tail moving up and down every once in a while as she purred at her new friend.
It was a weirdly cozy view, one that seemed to put all the thoughts that were still swarming his mind at ease. He leaned against the frame of the door, arms crossed in front of his chest, and he just stared for a while, half-present in the moment and half-lost in his own mind. He didn’t miss the moment her head lifted up an inch and her eyes met his, though, and before he could realize anything, he found himself smirking back.
“Ulya is showing me the photographs of her wedding day,” she said when he moved away from the door and really entered the room. Her fingers absentmindedly scratched the cat behind one ear as she maintained eye contact until he sat down at the round table in front of the window to her left.
“Those are a must-see when you step foot into her house.” His was a playful huff as he lit himself a cigarette. They had all gone back to Russian, which meant that Ulyana had gotten to know Y/N faster than he had. “Next thing you know, you’re walking down Soviet memory lane.” And then, when his eyes met Lina’s: “You know I’m joking. Tolya and I have always loved your stories.”
The woman shook her head, but there was a smile on her face that somehow warmed his heart. It meant that it was all back to normal now; that, in her heart, she had forgiven him for disappearing for so long and never, not once, calling to check in on her. “This girl’s bewitched you,” she chuckled, patting Y/N’s knee with her free hand. “I don’t remember when the last time he wasn’t serious was, anymore,” she explained as she leaned back against the couch, giving her guest’s unasked question an answer.
Vladimir scoffed and when his phone beeped on the table with a text from Sergei a moment later, he stood up. “We gotta go now. Work’s calling.”
Ulyana had a look on her face that seemed to complain On a Saturday? but she knew he was a busy man with a demanding job, and so she dropped it. “You’re both invited over tomorrow,” she said instead. “I’ll prepare a nice dinner to celebrate together.” She closed the album of photographs and put it down on the coffee table by the side of the couch.
When she stood up, Belka seemed to catch the hint: she woke up, let out a huffy meow, and jumped down from Y/N’s lap to rub herself against one of Vlad’s legs.
“There’s nothing to celebrate, Lina,” Vladimir was saying as he let the old woman fix the collar of his shirt before engulfing him in a hug.
The way her eyebrows rose when she turned to look at Y/N was almost comical on that round face of hers. “He’s still as stubborn as always, isn’t he?” she whispered in her ear when she hugged her goodbye. When she turned back towards Vladimir, she had her hands on her hips and a firm look in her eyes that he knew he couldn’t escape. “You two will come over for dinner tomorrow night if it kills you! It’s so good to see you finally happy, my boy, and not just alone as always. And if that’s not enough, I haven’t seen you in months! Is this how you treat your old Lina?”
*
“I can’t believe she managed to convince you.”
He was driving to Sergei’s place when Y/N spoke again. They hadn’t exchanged a word after leaving Ulyana’s apartment and truth be told, he was almost afraid to hear her speak again.
“I can’t believe it either,” he groaned, one hand gripping the steering wheel tightly while his left arm just hung out the rolled-down window.
There were heavy clouds behind the buildings in front of them and it looked like it would start pouring soon. But the slightly chilly air was a blessing after that day’s stuffy heat, so he was ready to face the early-summer bad weather when it would come.
After that exchange, the silence went back to being almost embarrassed. She was looking at him from the corner of her eye – he hadn’t missed it, he was good at noticing things about people, even though probably not as good as he thought he was when it came to her. Whether she was trying to come up with something to say or not, though, he did not know.
His own thoughts were all over the place as well.
He had a little less than one day to come up with an excuse to ring Ulyana up with just so that he could avoid that dinner date she had organized. In his heart he knew she was doing this for him: she and Aleksandr had never had children, and that’s exactly how she had always seen him and his brother ever since they had first rented that apartment on her same floor. We’re all Russians, we have to stick up for each other, she had said once, one of the first times she had insisted they’d come over for dinner. She had taken care of them; and it was remarkable, the way they had let her into their lives, one kind act at a time, in a time when the Siberian wound was still tender and they didn’t know who to trust in this new, foreign land.
Then, a little more than a year and a half ago, when Anatoly had introduced Paulina to her, it had become just Vladimir and Ulyana most of the time. Tolya was busier now – he didn’t only have his job, but there was a woman now and he did things with her, took her places, came up with things just to surprise her for the sake of it… It had been a shock at first because that was someone more similar to the old Anatoly Ranskahov, the one who had lived in Moscow and had danced around a different woman every night – with the only difference that he was now a faithful lover.
“Are you upset?” Her voice tore him out of his mind once again and he turned towards her with a questioning hmm? that prompted her to clarify. “About her thinking that we’re together.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t think I am, nyet,” he confessed eventually.
She was staring ahead, not looking at him, but a smile still blossomed on her face at his words. “If I don’t tell you now, I know I’ll never have the guts to.”
But Vladimir was already slowing down to park the car and when Y/N turned her head to see what he was staring at with such a confused expression on his face, the faint smirk on his lips already fading away completely, she knew she wouldn’t be opening her heart any time soon in that car.
“What the fuck?” was what Vlad mumbled as he hastily turned off the engine, pulled on the handbrake, and threw his door open. “What is this?”
Sergei was standing there, a black and brown rottweiler laying at his feet, panting with its tongue almost touching the asphalt in the somewhat stuffy evening air.
“This,” his friend said, slowly, shoving the handle of the leash in the other’s hand before Vlad could come back to himself, “is Sharik. I need you to look after him while I’m gone.”
Vladimir stared down at the dog, and the dog sat up against Seriozha’s legs so that he could stare back at him better. He was a big piece of meat, and he could already picture him drooling all over the couch he had back at home. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why?” frowned Sergei, dropping the black gym bag from his shoulder to Vlad’s feet. “I told you yesterday, before you and Y/N left the garage. If I need to go out of town for business, I won’t be able to bring him with me. You agreed to look after him for me.”
While his owner spoke, Sharik sniffed at Vladimir’s shin with curiosity, and after a long moment of scrutiny, he lazily wagged his tail in approval.
“You need to take him out in the morning and at night, he loves walks in the park.”
“What?” He wasn’t sure the type of ‘take the dog out’ he was thinking of was the one Sergei had in mind.
“Don’t feed him weird shit. His dry food is in the bag. Don’t give him more than what I wrote down – he loves to beg. And make him play before bed, or he’ll keep you up all night.”
“What?”
“Your apartment complex also has a pool and he enjoys chilling in the water, so if–”
“I won’t be looking after your dog. What?”
Before either of them could speak, Y/N’s What’s going on here? made them turn in her direction. She had gotten out of the car, and while she was still holding onto the door with one hand, Vlad knew she’d soon come forward.
“Solnyshko, hi!”
Vladimir knew he was fucked when Sergei greeted her and hugged her back when she walked up to them. He’d manage to convince her and while she was just a guest in his house, Vlad knew he’d be the one bending his will.
Sharik gave her the same treatment he had reserved for him just moments before, but he sped it up this time, and the wagging in his tail wasn’t as lazy as it had been with him – it was a hard slapping back and forth against his leg that gave him just a slight taste of the dog’s strength.
“Who’s this good boy?” she cooed as the dog sniffed the palm of her hand before giving it a lick and allowing her to pet his head.
In no time, and before he had the chance to register what was going on, Y/N had gone back to the car and, appalled, he had to watch her lead the dog onto the back seats.
As if he had read his mind, Sergei reassured him: “Don’t worry, he doesn’t shed. But you still need to keep him brushed, it relaxes him.”
He stared at the car, kept an eye on Y/N as she put Sergei’s gym bag in the trunk, and then walked back around the car to sit on the passenger seat. She was still caressing the dog, her back turned towards the two men, when Vladimir spoke.
“You know I don’t deal with animals.”
Sergei scoffed. “We deal with much worse. Now, don’t be a brat, I didn’t have to listen to the two of you singing like shit last night just to then not be able to get payback.”
“We didn’t–”
“It’s all cool, Volodya.” Serzh patted his shoulder and grinned at him before turning back to stare at the car his dog had got into. “She’s nice, I don’t mind. It was about time you found someone that would headbutt you every time you headbutted them.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about, brother. Sharik is a good matchmaker, who else do you think got Tolik and Paulina together?” he grinned. “But if he is missing even so much as a hair when I come back, we’ll have a problem.”
He scoffed. “A threat? Over a dog?”
“He’s not just some dog, Volodya. He’s my boy.” He stared him down for a moment before turning around. He had already started to walk back towards the building he lived in, when he said one last I’ll call you when Aslan and I have left the state before Vlad turned his back on him.
*
Just as he had expected, Sharik launched himself onto the couch the second Y/N opened the door of his apartment. The only thing Vladimir could do was watch him run across the entrance corridor, fly mid-air, and then fall heavily onto the clean cushions of his couch half a second later. And to be such a big and heavy dog, he was fast.
“I’m going to kill Sergei,” he muttered but before he could take another step forward, Y/N stopped him with a hand on his forearm.
“C’mon, he’s just a dog, Vlad. Don’t be mean. I’ll get him down,” she chuckled and toed her shoes off before walking up to Sharik.
Sometime later, after that dog had finally stopped whining and complaining that he wanted to get on the couch despite said couch’s owner didn’t want to, there was silence again.
The next-door neighbor had knocked on the door not long after they had got home: he had heard the noises, and had felt the need to complain about that sudden surprise, and to poke his nose into business he knew nothing about – There’s a pet fee you’re supposed to pay if you want to keep an animal in here. And then, when Sharik had walked up to the door and nosed his way to stand between Y/N’s legs – Vlad has seen it in the mirror hanging on the wall right at the other end of the room – that very neighbor had found something else to complain about. Its size exceeds the limits allowed in this complex, or some shit like that. He hadn’t heard what she had told the dude; all he knew was that less than five minutes after he had shown up at the door, he had left with his tail between his legs, and so Vlad had managed to go back to staring at the screen of his laptop.
He wasn’t doing anything, really. For once, he didn’t feel like burying his head into his work – everything needed for Aslan and Sergei’s trip to Florida had already been organized, and the last touches for the upcoming shipment could wait until Monday. It was very un-Vladimir-like, to take a whole weekend off, but for once, he wouldn’t complain.
What he ended up thinking about – or, rather, whom –, however, was Ulyana. He had been praying for an excuse to cancel that dinner date for the next day, but he hadn’t expected to be actually presented with one. And although he still had the intention to ring her up and apologize, he still had to pick up the phone. He couldn’t possibly leave Sergei’s dog home alone, now, could he? Or did he want to come back to a destroyed house?
“Shari’s napping.” When he looked up, not even taken by surprise by her sudden appearance in the doorframe of the kitchen, he found her standing there, leaning a shoulder against the wood and staring at him. “What are you up to?”
“Work,” was his quick reply. “Checking that everything is in order and… stuff.”
“‘And stuff’?” She didn’t seem convinced, and she stared at him for a long minute, before dismissing it and sitting opposite him at the small kitchen table. “Anyway, why didn’t you tell me about this favor you had to do for Sergei?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “I didn’t know I had to look after stupid dog.” And then, when she raised an eyebrow: “A very smart, but spoiled dog. Better?”
“He’s not spoiled. Serzh just really loves him a lot,” she pouted. And when he glared at her, she continued: “This doesn’t matter, though. You have to find a solution for tomorrow night. Call Sergei and ask him how Sharik deals with cats, and then call Ulyana and ask her how Belka deals with dogs. Or something.”
“Why me?”
“Because I asked nicely? Because you got us into this?”
As it turned out a couple of calls later, Sharik was very gentle, almost submissive with cats and animals in general – despite his size, despite his face, and his breed, and the size of his paws big enough to be as big as at least three cat legs put together. And Ulyana had no problem having a dog over either – she had looked after a neighbor’s dog more times than she could count, and Belka was used to napping in her bedroom when another animal was over.
So, not a problem – as Lina had said. Just come over and bring the dog, I’ll have something ready for him too.
His plan to avoid that dinner date had miserably failed, although there was something inside him at the thought of showing up at Lina’s and pretending like he and Y/N were a thing of some sort that just… pulled at some strings he didn’t even know he had inside. And as he watched Y/N fill Sharik’s bowl just as they got ready to eat dinner, he found himself being almost happy that those strings were being pulled, for once in his life.
“So we just take him over to her place?” she asked him when she sat down, a steaming plate with rice and veggies right in front of her.
His diet had taken a turn for the better ever since she had moved in with him – he still had more vodka than was healthy to have hiding pretty much in almost all the cabinets in his apartment, but at least his fridge was full of food his body could actually digest this time.
“That’s what she said,” he grumbled.
They ate in silence after that, and only when he had done the dishes, did she speak again.
“Do you wanna settle for a story?” She was sitting next to him on the couch, with Sharik’s heavy head resting on a knee. The dog was staring at her with adoring eyes as she gently scratched behind his ears.
“A story?”
“Yeah, about how we met. How we ended up together. Ulyana asked a couple vague-ish questions this afternoon, so I think she’ll ask more tomorrow. No?” She glanced at him when he didn’t reply. “Unless you wanna tell her the truth.”
“I don’t know what I want,” he eventually confessed. “I don’t want to lie to her, but if I hear her ask me about ‘my woman’ another time, I’m going to burst.”
He didn’t expect to chuckle with her, but he did. And when they grew silent again, and she went back to staring at the TV screen after a quick Let me think of something, then, he laid his head back against the seatback of the couch, head turned in her direction, and studied the profile of her face. The way the corner of her mouth rose up into a smirk before she giggled at Sharik’s sniffing nose against her bare shin. The way her chest rose and fell with every breath she took, slow and regular and almost gentle. And before he knew it, his eyes had dropped closed and he had fallen asleep.
When he woke up sometime later – the clock on his phone signaled just a few minutes after half past eleven –, Y/N and Sharik had already left the room, and he was uncomfortably half sitting, half lying on the couch covered by a pile blanket. The TV was off, and not a sound came from inside the apartment – nor from outside in the corridor.
He briefly wondered whether Y/N had managed to come up with a story in case Ulyana would ask questions, but he barely had the time to walk into his room and sit on his bed, that his ears picked up some snoring.
There, bundled up under his blankets, was sleeping Sharik, who had somehow managed to make himself at home. He even had the audacity of staring at him with an accusatory look in his eyes, the fleabag, when Vladimir turned on the lamp on his bedside table to get a closer look.
“Get off,” he groggily ordered, yanking the covers back with a quick movement of his arm. “Get off my bed, dog.”
But for all he tried, the dog wouldn’t budge. And even when Vladimir picked him up and put him back down onto the living room floor, he barely had the time to close the door of his bedroom – something he hadn’t done since before Utkin – that Sharik was already pushing against it with his nose to slip into the room.
“You are stubborn beast, aren’t you?”
Taking him back to the living room by force didn’t help at all, for the dog wouldn’t stop bugging him. He had managed to lower the door handle twice in the half-hour Vladimir spent trying to get rid of him without… yeah, without actually getting rid of the fucking four-legged light of Sergei’s life.
When it became apparent that he wouldn’t have a good night’s sleep in his goddamn bed that night, was when Sharik almost tripped him over from behind just to then launch himself onto his bed much like he had done that evening with the couch – and the at least other ten times Vlad had tried to kick him out of the room. He laid there, on his bed, curled up like a too-big cat, staring at him with eyebrows that wouldn’t stop going up and down until he huffed out a complaint and went back to sleep.
“I’ll kill you, Sergei,” he groaned, rubbing his face with both hands to try and shoo the annoyance away.
He stood in the hallway for a while, then, eyeing the couch from the other side of the living room while mentally cursing himself. Before fixing the spare room, which he had turned into Y/N’s bedroom as the weeks had gone by, he had had to take care of his brother and by giving him his bed, he had had to get the couch. It was too small for him, and uncomfortable – and the thought that she, too, had had to sleep there for endless days before he got his shit together still stung, in a way. And since it looked like he wouldn’t be able to get Sharik out of his bedroom – nor out of his bed, for that matter –, he was left with only two options to pick from: either the couch or…
He knocked on her door before he had the time to talk himself out of it.
“Is something wrong?” She was scrolling through her phone when she told him to come in. The lamps on both nightstands were on, and it looked like she was still far from falling asleep.
“Dog’s in my bed,” he said, staring at her from across the room. “Couch is…”
“I know,” she chuckled. “Still not the worst couch I’ve slept on, though, don’t worry,” she continued when he made a weird face. “Stay in your half of the bed, and you can sleep here if you want.”
He didn’t sleep that night, however. He laid on his right side, staring at the wall, and she laid on her left, staring at the opposite wall. She had wished him good night at some point, when she had put her phone away and had turned the lights off, and he had answered with a hum. But then, he had just laid there all night, listening in on her soft breathing – and then her soft snoring – and he remained motionless. When he did fall asleep, sometime in the early morning, just before the first light of day peaked in through the curtains, his last thought was that maybe, this wasn’t that bad.
*
“Through mutual friends, if so one could say,” Y/N replied over celebratory vodka. Ulyana had kept her best questions for the end of the dinner and Vladimir had almost deluded himself into thinking the old woman would never ask. They had come up with a story to tell just in case, but silence would have been better. “I apparently showed up at the garage at the least opportune time.”
“Oh! So was it love at first sight?” Lina was pouring them all a second shot with one hand as the other one rested on Sharik’s head.
Vlad laughed – what an absurd concept, he found himself musing. Love at first sight? With someone as careful as him? And although Y/N kicked his foot under the table to try and silence him, he couldn’t fully erase the smirk from his face. “Nyet,” he chuckled eventually as he wiped away a tear with a knuckle.
“Hell no! He was very rude and stubborn at the beginning,” confessed Y/N, and Vlad was barely able to scoff at her that Lina had turned in his direction with a gaze of steel.
“Very rude?” she inquired, eyes squinting as she frowned. “With this lovely lady?”
“Don’t gang up on me, she was very stubborn too!” he complained. “Still is.”
“One ought to be stubborn if one has to put up with you, my dear Volodya.” Ulyana patted his hand on the table. “Doesn’t give you the right to be rude. I didn’t raise you like that.”
He had been on the verge of pointing out that he had, in fact, been raised by his own mother and not by her, but he didn’t deem it appropriate tonight – nor necessary. Lina didn’t mean any harm, and he knew what she was trying to imply.
“It’s alright, Ulya, he has learned how to tone it down now.” The smile on Y/N’s face seemed sincere, and at that moment, he wouldn’t be able to tell what she was thinking about. “Ever since we moved in together, he’s learned how to behave himself. Most of the time, at least.”
It was Ulyana’s turn to playfully slap Vlad’s forearm and he found it almost weird, to find himself with his back to the wall in front of those two. And not even in a bad way, with all of them drinking vodka together and celebrating a romantic relationship that simply wasn’t there.
What had he become? Lying like that to an old, dear friend… Without thinking twice; without remorse. He sat there in her living room, eating her food, drinking her alcohol, and he kept on adding lies to the fire without being able to stop.
“Hey, she’s not a saint, either! Tell her.”
Y/N laughed, and it somehow took him by surprise, it knocked the wind out of him. He fully turned his head to stare at her, and it almost felt like seeing her for the first time and for the millionth time at the same time. The way she tilted her head back as she laughed; the way her earrings and piercings caught the light of the lighting fixture; even the way her fingers brushed against his, and the way he ended up holding her hand in his. Warm and soft, the skin so smooth that he almost pulled away.
He watched her talk, recount the story of how they met – or a watered-down version of it, with anything too compromising being filtered out. And as she conversed with Ulya, her fingers played with his and his gaze kept on dropping down on his hand, never missing a movement. She had somehow ended up tracing the three-bar cross between his thumb and forefinger – without looking at it, almost as though she had done just that so many times that she had ended up memorizing its placement, its lines. And as she went on talking, her fingers brushed across the Xs on his knuckles, and he had to fight that sudden impulse that pushed him to pull his hand away.
A couple of hours later, when they had finally bid Ulyana goodnight and thanked her for the pleasant dinner she had offered them, he found himself walking his best man’s dog in the park just across the street from her old friend’s apartment building. He watched Sharik sniff here and there, and for a moment he found himself wondering if that was what a normal life felt like – walking the dog at almost eleven in the night, with plastic bags in a pocket in case the dog pooped, arm in arm with a woman.
“You’re quiet,” she said at one point, when they stopped under a tree while Sharik sniffed just a few meters in front of them. “Is everything alright?”
It took him a while to answer. And it wasn’t because he hadn’t heard her, but because he was afraid of somehow saying the wrong thing as was custom with him. “Da,” he sighed eventually, “just thinking.” He shrugged, but he didn’t make a move to pull away when her hand trailed down his arm and her fingers entwined with his.
“I had a good time tonight. I hope you did too, and that I didn’t push myself too far with that story about… you know, us.”
“It was fine, she bought it.”
“Doesn’t make me feel less bad, though.”
He turned his head to look at her, and for a moment, the thought of how it would be like to do this every night with her crossed his mind. “Eh, I know.” It was quiet for a while after that, but when Sharik steered off the path, he found himself cursing out in Russian. “Come here, you stubborn dog!”
“Don’t be mean, Vlad! He’s just a dog.” She ran after Sharik then, and he watched her take him back by the collar as he fished a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his pants. He had just lit himself one when she took it from his fingers and put it out against the sole of her high-heeled shoe as she kept her balance with a hand firmly wrapped around his forearm.
“Why did you do that?” It was almost a gasp, half-surprised and half-pissed at a cigarette waisted in such a way.
“I had something to tell you yesterday, in the car.”
“You could’ve done that over shared cigarette!”
“I don’t want to taste cigarettes when I kiss someone, though.”
He almost opened his mouth to retort when her words registered in his brain, and all he could do was stare down into her eyes, not a sound leaving his lips.
“Like that night after the bar, just without drinks. I wanna do this sober.” She had taken a step forward, and they were now standing toe-to-toe. He could almost feel her, even with that short distance separating them – like when she had turned around and had ended up pressing her forehead against his back the night before, with the only difference that they were both awake now. “I want to kiss you again so badly it’s driving me nuts.”
That gasp didn’t leave his lips just because he managed to abruptly inhale quickly at the last second, but her words did make his heart beat faster somehow.
“I kept on telling myself that you’d do it, but you haven’t so far, and I can’t understand if that’s because you still dislike me or –”
He cut her off before she could continue. Her cheeks were burning when he cradled her face between his hands, and her lips were soft against his. Her hands came up to wrap around his wrists. When he pulled her closer, she let him; and when she deepened the kiss, when her tongue brushed against his teeth, he let her.
It was like one of those cliché moments, although it lasted for a couple of seconds at most: his breathing stopped, and the world seemed to stop with it as he kissed her. And then, when everything picked up again – his breathing, his heart, Hell’s Kitchen late-night traffic, Sharik’s tail snapping like a whip against his leg as he stood there – he found himself not wanting to pull away.
She did, though, and she looked up at him out of breath, his hands still cupping her cheeks and her hands still holding on to his wrists. “You’re so stubborn, I swear,” she chuckled. “But if you don’t kiss me again, I’ll go back to being stubborn, too.”
He cackled, and when Sharik pushed against his thigh with his nose, he looked down at him and shook his head. “Maybe Sergei was right, after all,” he mumbled before turning his attention back to Y/N and kissing her again, silencing her question before she had the time to voice it.
This is Sharik :) (pics found on Pinterest eons ago, I don’t remember the links, credits to the owner(s)!)
Comments and inbox are always open for feedback :) pls if you have any ideas you’d like to see in this story, feel free to hit me up, they’d for sure help me out lol since I’m slow AF :’)
TAGS (to be added to or removed from any list, shoot me an ask)
Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @mblaqgi @becs-bunker @gruffle1
The Assistant: @flowers-in-your-hayr
People that might be interested: @kind-wolf @brobachev
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