RussiaxReader: Cake or Death pt 3

RussiaxReader

Cake or Death

Part 3

IVAN used BODY SLAM!

It's super effective!

Fuck that hurt.

Ivan hadn't even tried to catch himself or anything. When he landed on you, you fell to the floor, your back taking all of your weight as well as his.

For a minute you just laid there and let your brain register what had just happened. Pain was shooting through your back and making your entire body shudder at the intense feeling. You gasped and let out a pained hiss, finding it difficult to breathe with all of the extra weight on top of you.

Jesus, whatever Ivan was eating, he needed to either reduce it or find a low fat alternative.

The boy in question was currently lying flat on top of you, still trying to get his wits about him. You had a mouthful of his scarf, and you were thankful that, though he wore it every day, it didn't smell like he wore it every day.

"I-Ivan…" you wheezed, "you're crushing me…"

This seemed to spur him into awareness. He pushed himself up onto all fours, his hands on either side of your head. You blinked away tears of pain and took in a breath of much needed, scarf-less air.

You looked up.

Shit.

Ivan was still hovering over you, showing no signs of any further movement. He had this blank expression on his face as he looked down at you. You swallowed, beginning to grow nervous.

"Ummm… could you please get up?" you asked, trying to get an idea of what he was thinking. He was impossible to read.

He said nothing. He did nothing. He just continued to stare at you with that blank look on his face.

You squirmed, uncomfortable.

In a way, you almost preferred that creepy grin of his. Almost.

The seconds ticked by.

You grew impatient.

You planted your hand in the middle of his face and pushed. You heard him make a sound of surprise as he shot up and into a crouch and then stood. He looked down at you with surprise, as if he had expected anything but that to happen. Your handprint was on his face, left behind in the flour that you'd gotten on them earlier.

You would've laughed, actually, you did, but then your back decided that it didn't want you to feel happiness. Ever. You groaned, now knowing what old people felt like all the time.

Now that Ivan was no longer smothering you, you attempted to sit up. Your back protested the movement and you let out a pained squeak and flopped down on the ground.

You'd fallen and you couldn't get up… Ha. Fucking. Ha.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath and readying yourself to try again, when you heard footsteps. You looked up and over to see Toris enter the kitchen, followed closely by Eduard and Raivis, the younger boy clinging timidly to the bespectacled boy's sleeve.

Just what you needed. An audience to witness your agony.

"I heard a crash. Is everything-!" Toris' question was cut short by his own gasp. He rushed forward, kneeling down next to you, "are you alright?"

No. No you were not alright. The simple task of baking a cake had suddenly turned into Beowulf-level survival challenge. And now your back felt like it had just been roundhouse kicked by The Chuck Norris. You weren't alright. You hadn't been alright since yesterday.

But you weren't about to drop your woes onto Toris. Whining was for ninnies.

"I'm fine…" you lied, "just my pride…" and spine…

He frowned, and then proceeded to gently help you off of the ground. Your back protested again, but you told it to shut up, forcing yourself to stand. You leaned on the counter for support and gave Toris a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Toris," you said and he nodded.

"You're welcome," he said, with that kind smile of his. After having to deal with Ivan's creepy smile for the longest time, Toris' smile was like a breath of fresh air. He gently put his hand on your back, "Do you need any painkillers? What happened?"

"That is enough, Toris," said Ivan as the room suddenly became cold.

All eyes turned to him. You saw Raivis duck behind Edward for protection.

Lucky kid. You wished you had a human meat-shield.

Before anyone could blink, he'd snatched Toris' hand off of your back, holding the smaller boy's wrist in his large hand. Toris looked justifiably ready to wet himself. Hell, you were about to wet yourself for him.

Ivan smiled down on him, still managing to look extremely intimidating despite the flour handprint in the middle of his face, "we can take things from here, why don't you run along?"

That last part was directed to Eduard and Raivis as well. The three brothers looked back and forth between you and Ivan, a certain hesitance in their expressions.

It was obvious that they thought that the reason why you were on the ground in the first place was because Ivan had pulled a Chris Brown to your Rihanna.

Ivan released his hold on Toris, "goodbye, now!"

With a bit of reluctance they left, each casting you a glance that was half concerned, and half "better you than me!"

Talk about giving mixed signals…

Ivan turned to you, you shifted uncomfortably.

"Umm…we should probably clean that up…" you said, motioning to the egg mess on the floor with one arm as the other supported your weight on the counter, "you know, before someone else gets hurt…and stuff…"

But he wasn't really listening to you.

Ivan stepped forward, and for a terrifying second, you thought he was going to step in the egg again and you'd have a repeat of earlier. But no, he was careful to step over and around the goo on the floor and stopped right in front of you. He reached behind you and placed his hand gently in the middle of your back just as Toris had done.

You tensed up automatically. Ivan had no sense of personal space, and all these random touches were really starting to freak you out. On top of that, that peculiar blank expression was on his face again. You swallowed, the whole atmosphere thick and as tense as you were.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

YES. OH HOLY FUCK YOUR BACK HAS NOT SEEN SUCH PAIN.

You shrugged, "only if I move it too much-"

He accidentally pressed down on your back.

"Or you do that!" you grunted, gritting your teeth. You reached back and grabbed his hand, pulling it away from your back.

As soon as you did it, he pulled away, as if burned and stepped back. His eyes widened.

You're eyebrows raised. What the hell? Sooo…he gets to feel on you like a creepy substitute teacher, but as soon as you lay a finger on him you've gone too far?

Fuck's sake.

You sighed. You didn't want to try and psychoanalyze Ivan right now. All you wanted to do was lie down on your bed with a book and at least three tubs of IcyHot and wait for the pain to go away.

But to do that, you had to bake a damn cake.

Side-stepping Ivan, you went to the sink and washed the flour off of your hands. You were aware of Ivan's eyes on you, but frankly, you were learning to ignore it. And if getting used to Ivan's creepy behavior wasn't the most terrifying thing ever, you didn't know what was.

Drying your hands you grabbed a wet rag and handed it over to Ivan. He blinked.

You looked at him and then at the egg on the floor, "I can't exactly bend down clean it, so…"

He nodded, and took the rag from you. He slowly returned to his normal, creepy-smiling self.

As he stooped down to clean off the floor, you walked over to your dry baking materials and started scooping up the flour that had fallen onto the counter and placing it into the measuring cup. You assumed that the counter was clean enough that it wouldn't be a problem. Not that it really mattered…it was only your peers and teacher that would be eating the cake. No one important.

As you began sifting your ingredients, you saw that Ivan had finished cleaning up the floor and moved on to the task you'd given him before: mixing the butter, sugar and eggs.
You saw him fumble with the items he was working with, no doubt because of the gloves he was wearing.

"It might work out better if you took the gloves off…" you said, because, honestly, you really didn't want another egg to die at the hands of Ivan.

He paused and looked at you for a moment. Then he smiled wider, "I hadn't thought of that. Thank you, little one."

You couldn't tell if he was being serious or sarcastic. Which meant something coming from you. You were pretty sure if you were a superhero, super-sarcasm would be your power. You smirked a little. Little old you, mildly irritable school-girl by day, and The Snark Knight by night!

…

Fuck, you'd been talking to that Alfred guy too much. You'd hoped nerd wasn't contagious.

You were brought out of your thoughts by Ivan, who'd begun peeling off his gloves. So he had been serious…

You watched with mild curiosity. A small part of you wondered why he always had those gloves on. Was he hiding something? Nail polish? Gang tattoo? Missing finger?

He pulled off his gloves to reveal-

Plain, boring ass hands.

How disappointing.

The two of you went back to work and continued on in silence for awhile. Occasionally, you'd catch him looking at you with that weird smile of his, but you were starting to figure out that that was just how Ivan rolled.

After a while, the quiet got to be so peaceful and you'd gone almost five minutes without incident that you almost forgot about just how creepy your partner could be.

That is, until Ivan began whistling.

See… whistling was pretty cool. Hell, it was kinda cute when those dwarves did it in the Snow White movie. But when total creepers whistled? Well… that's the soundtrack to your next nightmare right there.

And the song Ivan was whistling… You shivered as the chorus echoed throughout your mind:

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks,
You better run, better run, outrun my gun.
All the other kids with the pumped up kicks,
You better run, better run, faster than my bullet.

Who knew Ivan had his own theme song?

The whistling stopped, and you were thankful, until you looked over and jumped, seeing Ivan right next to you, his bowl of mixed ingredients in hand.

A dude that big should not be able to move so quietly.

"We are ready for the next part, da?" he inquired, presenting the bowl to you.

You nodded, taking the bowl from him. You looked at the recipe, "okay, we need to mix the dry and wet stuff together…"

You grabbed your own bowl and took the mixing spoon that was already in the bowl with the butter and eggs in your other hand. Carefully, you tipped half of your bowl into Ivan's, trying to be as neat as you could.

You still managed to get a bunch on your hands.

Fuck's sake.

Ivan, who was, of course, watching you like a hawk, chuckled, "you are a very messy girl, aren't you?"

"Well, I'm not the one with flour all over my face," you shot back, brushing the mixture off of your hands and into the bowl, stirring.

You saw the boy blink then touch his finger to his nose, pulling the digit away from his face to inspect it. He grinned, "ah yes, but you are to blame for that as well, are you not?"

You held your tongue. You didn't really know how far you could push the guy, and you didn't want to test it.

Ivan went to the sink to clean off his face as you continued with your task. You'd just managed to mix in half of the bowl as well as the milk and water needed when your cell phone began to ring from its spot in your jacket pocket.

You jumped in surprise. Why oh why did you put that damn thing on vibrate? You went to answer when you remembered that your hands were messy.

"Dammit…" you cursed, not wanting to grab it with all of the crap on your hands. You decided to just let it ring.

And then Ivan reached into your pocket.

"Hey!" you squawked indignantly at yet another invasion of your personal space. You stepped back just as Ivan pulled your still ringing cell phone out of your pocket.

"Just what are you-?" you cut yourself off as Ivan accepted your call and held your phone to your ear, "hello?" you said on instinct, your eyes still on Ivan giving him an incredibly weirded out look.

"What if he doesn't like me?" came a small voice on the other end of the line.

Your gaze left Ivan as your eyebrows knitted together in concern. You recognized the voice immediately, "Dana?"

"I mean…Cody's so amazing and I'm not…" Dana whimpered.

Oh hell…

"Dana…" you started. Dana usually got this way whenever a new guy came into the picture. You couldn't understand why, though. Occasional bouts of self-centeredness aside, she was a good person, nice…nicer than you, and very pretty. She could have any guy she wanted wrapped around her finger without even trying.

But regardless of the absurdity of it all, it was still happening. You had to be gentle about this. When Dana got emotional, she could be more dangerous than a nuclear bomb.

"What are you talking about?" you asked gently, "you're wonderful."

There was no reply, but you could hear a faint…something… Wait. Was she eating something?

Oh hell…

"Dana... what are you eating?" you asked nervously.

"…nothing, just a little ice cream…" she said, trying to sound innocent.

"…out of the tub?"

"…maybe."

Oh hell...

You reached up to grab the phone, but remembered the mess on your hands and lowered your arm. You were fully aware of the fact that Ivan was listening to every word you said, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. Your friend needed you. You didn't have the necessity of being self-conscious.

It was motivational speech time…bitches.

"Put the ice cream down, Dana," you ordered.

"But-"

"Now."

There was a long, miserable sigh on the other end of the line, but you heard her do as you said.

"Now I want you to get up and go look in a mirror."

There was some shuffling on Dana's end, "okay…now what?"

"Repeat after me…"

She sniffled, "okay…?"

"I am…"

"I am…"

"The baddest bitch…"

"The baddest bitch…?"

"In this club."

She was quiet at first, but then she began giggling, which soon turned into full blown laughter, "that makes no sense!"

You let out a laugh of your own, just glad that you could get her to smile. After you'd both calmed down, you spoke again, "but seriously, Dana. You are amazing, fun, and one of the coolest people I know. If this Cody guy can't see that, then, honestly, no matter how great his ass is, he doesn't deserve you."

"And it is a nice ass…" she said whistfully.

"Yes it is," you agreed.

Dana laughed again, "thank you so much for making me feel better. I don't  know how you put up with me all of the time…"

You grinned, even though she couldn't see it, "you're not that bad…all of the time," you teased, running a hand through your hair.

Only to remember that your hands were dirty.

"Fuck!" you swore, pulling your hand from your hair as Ivan let out a chuckle. You glared at him.

"What is it?" Dana asked.

"I had baking shit on my hands and now I got it in my hair!" you growled.

Dana started laughing.

"Bitch!" you snapped. You may be too afraid to say it to Ivan, but you were sure you could take Dana in a fight.

She took a deep breath to compose herself, "that's right! You're doing the assignment too! Who's your partner?"

You swallowed, stealing a glance at Ivan. He seemed rather amused with this whole conversation, at least with the part he could hear on your end. There was also something…off with him. More so than usual, that is…

Or maybe you were just being paranoid.

You averted your gaze, "Ivan," you told her.

For a while Dana was silent, then, "look girl, I know you feel the need for a rush every once in a while, but Ivan's not the way to go! He just got out of juvie last year, and he already has three babies-"

"What?" you exclaimed, then you realized what she was talking about, "no, not Crack-Head Ivan! Ivan…you know, the one that's in our class?"

"Oh…Ivan?" she asked.

"Yes…maybe…whatever…" you were getting confused.

There was a pause more pregnant than the Octomom, then Dana whispered, horrified, "are you crazy? Why are you working with him?"

You rolled your eyes, "well, I needed a partner, he needed a partner, so now we're partners."

Dana let out a gasp, the realization dawning on her, "oh my God, I'm so sorry! I left you with a terrible partner! I'm horrible!"

With a soft smile you shook your head, then remembered that she couldn't see you, "hey, if someone like Cody asked me to be their partner,  I'd leave your ass behind, too."

The two of you laughed.

"You know, when you're not being a sarcastic bitch, you're actually pretty sweet," commented Dana, "well I gotta go now, bye, girlie!"

"Okay, bye!" you said as Dana hung up, on your end, Ivan terminated the call and stuck your phone back in your pocket.

And then the awkwardness of having someone listen to your private conversation finally sunk in.

Fuck…

Saying nothing, you tried to return to your task. You found this to be impossible.

Because Ivan was now standing so close to you that your bodies were touching.

You turned to him, "what-"

"You're very nice, little one," Ivan stated, that creepy ass smile of his on full blast.

You shifted nervously, "umm, thanks-?"

"Nice to your friends…your classmates…my guests…you even let Toris touch you..." he took a step forward, you took a step back, "but me? You barely even talk to me. That hurts, little one…"

Okay…cue the theme music from Dead Silence…

The look on his face was really unsettling, and though you were really freaked out, you were getting tired of all this. Of his creepy, touchy-feelyness, the way he got amusement by scaring you and others, even his damn face. You were getting tired of dealing with it.

You stood your ground, hoping that this wasn't going to be your Little Bighorn, "look," you said, sticking your finger in his face. You were proud to note that your voice wavered only slightly, "I don't know where you get off getting in my personal space like this, but you need to back up-"

He grabbed you by the wrist, his grin even more menacing.

You stared.

Oh no he didn't!

Eyes narrowing you raised your other hand, ready to hit him.

He grabbed that one, too.

Fuck.

He leaned forward so that his face was inches away from yours. He looked quite happy with himself.

You head-butted him in the face.

And promptly got a concussion.

As he released you with a grunt of pain, your hand flew to your forehead. You stumbled back a few steps. Fuck! What did you just hit? His nose? What the hell was that thing made of?

You were brought back out of your thoughts by the scariest sound in the world.

"Kolkolkolkolkol…"

It was coming from Ivan. You had no idea what it meant, but you were not about to stick around to find out.

Forgetting about your things, the project, the fact that you were a mess, everything, you bolted out of the kitchen to Ivan's front door. On the way there, you accidentally knocked over Raivis, who, with his brothers, had come out to see what the commotion was all about. You couldn't bring yourself to care.

You flung the door open, rushing out to the street, grabbing your bike along the way. Hopping on, you pedaled towards home, as hard and as fast as you could, despite the throbbing in your forehead and the great pain in your back.

You didn't stop until you reached your house, where you collapsed on the steps of your front porch, trying to stop your heart from beating out of your chest.

You knew this project would be the death of you.

To be continued…