#her own last thoughts werent about herself like comments how its hard to breath in the smoke or im gonna die but just the sanctum

[dahkis]

i wonder where asha is after sephiroth burned down...i doubt she's dead but i hope we get to see her in the grandis storyline

[violetnotez]

Hawks x reader

⤷ Genre: Fluff

⤷ Word Count: 5300+

⤷ Warnings: mild cursing

⤷ Synopsis:  Hawks is completely head over heels when he meets the new side kick of Mirko, y/n, hero name Angel. After meeting y/n, Hawks begs Mirko to train the young hero himself, and starts a friendly relationship with her. But now Hawks wants to take it to the next level, and what better than a milkshake date to make her his.

This fic is for the @bnhabookclub Bingo Event! Here’s my masterlist to see all my work for this event!

Bingo Slot: Milkshake Date

This is my first time writing for Hawks, so hopefully its not too ooc! Also Im sorry if its kinda wordy? I feel like I just kinda went overboard!

Hawks sighed, his hands cradling  his head lazily in boredom.

Another mind numbing meeting to suffocate his precious hours.

It was hard not to be a little annoyed at these weekly hero meetings he was somehow tangled up into. He could be doing so much more with this time, like working on his own missions or even catching up on some very over do paperwork. But With the LOV and other various villain organizations on the rise, the heroes have noticed that now more than ever, citizens are desperate for some stability and reassurance from their beloved heroes. So, with the help of various hero agencies, they had devised a plan to have heroes patrolling the streets frequently, way more frequently than before to promote the image that “the heroes were in control” and “more powerful than ever before.”

What a load of crap that was.

Hawks fought the urge to roll his eyes and interrupt this pompous executive who had the nerve to preach to heroes, and the top rated ones at that. He was amused looking around, seeing how many well known heroes were still attending these obnoxious meetings-every one in the top 20  was in this room, including Endeavor and Mirko. That was typical for these heroes, since approval ratings were so important, but today was a little different. The size of the group had expanded, the seats now occupied with a few lower rank heroes, a couple sidekicks, and a few newbies that were gaining some popularity.

Hawks watched as the stiff looking executive pushed his glasses back to his nose tightly, a small cough clearing his throat.

“Now, I think it would be a wise time for all the newest joining heroes in our mission of peace to stand and say a few words,”

Oh great-now it was show and tell.

Hawks was  fighting the urge to outright humiliate this man in front of him for wasting so much of his time- it wasn't quite in his nature to keep his mouth shut. But, he had to admit that this was partially his fault: he had volunteered to be a part of this, and he had to respect the commitment he signed up for.

The man turnd to his right, his eyes trained on the Rabbit Hero herself.

“Miruko, would you like to introduce your sidekick first?” he asked, his voice monotone and serious.

Hawks instantly perked up at the man’s statement- so Miruko did bring along her sidekick? 

He had heard a little about the stir Miruko had worked up in the media when she announced she had a new sidekick. Miruko has notoriously built the image of “working alone”, so the fact she had taken on a new partner had thrown everyone in quite a loop. He personally wasn’t quite interested in digging himself too into the dramatic headlines, he was way too busy for that, but from the bits and pieces he heard, you showed promise.

Your quirk was powerful, you were great with civilians, and you were pretty efficient in battle. He was mutually intrigued by you, especially since your introduction was the one thing he found remotely interesting in this whole meeting.

Miruko grinned devilishly, her red eyes gleaming. 

“Sure thing,” she answered good naturally, her tough body standing up to introduce the person beside her. “As you all know by now, this is my new side kick-Angel,”

Oh and what a angel you were.

Hawks was completely enraptured by you, his eyes widening as he watched you stand up, your face coated in an incident look of nervousness and your pretty lips formed in a shy smile.

Man, if he knew how drop dead gorgeous you were, he would have made you his sidekick. 

He rested his head deeper into his gloved hand, a quiet whistle escaping his lips. 

And that hero suit wasn’t too bad either- your hero costume was sexy yet sleek, with a plunging white neckline and metal armor shaped like feathers that protected your shoulders. It was beautiful, elegant, and tantalizing to his eyes, his pupils hovering over each plush curve and indent of your tight body suit. 

Something caught Hawk’s eye, though, and he leaned in slightly to see what it was-something white and fluffy was twitching on both sides of you, the curve extremely familiar-until he realized: you had wings.

They weren’t anywhere as large as his, but they were much more, well, angelic than his. His wings were loud and prideful with their overpowering size and rich blood red color. They were durable, tough, and screamed for attention.

Your wings though were silent beauties, barely noticeable yet once seen took your breath away. The feathers were a delicate white like snow, and with careful inspections had a shimmer to them like stained glass in a cathedral. They were absolutely mesmerizing, and Hawks found himself staring at those wings as you began to introduce yourself.

“Hello,” he watched you timidly speak out. It was adorable to watch, your shoulders trying to show strength by being puffed out like a prideful little bird, but oh the way your smile trembled and your digits fidgeted showed just how wracked with nerves you were. “I am the Angelic hero-Angel. My quirk is that I can create a calming effect on people, as well as fly” 

Your eyes ghosted over the heroes in front of you, each face more stony and cold than the last. You finally gave a small glance at Hawks, his heart jumping in his chest. 

Your eyes were so warm and enticing, wanting to swallow him whole with those pretty irises swimming with pure sweetness. His cheek was pushed up against his hand as he sent you a mischievous wink your way, a  grin blossoming against his lips as he watched you become even more flustered than before.

His chest puffed up with pride as you sat down, knowing he had made a small impression on you. Maybe it was the dreariness of this meeting, or the fact he hadn't had any romantic endeavors in ages, but he had already gained a liking to you.

You walked out of the meeting, your head swarming and your heart pacing. Your first real hero meeting! You could practically scream with giddiness, electricity ebbing from your fingertips as you walked alongside your mentor, Miruko. 

It was a dream to be working alongside such a skilled and likeable hero as herself, and you couldn't be more thankful for the bunny hero for seeing potential in you. Being a year out of UA, it was expected for you to start interning or even becoming sidekicks in order to get a  headstart in the hero business. Even though Mirko was notorious for turning down any and all interns, you had applied to her agency and surprisingly has gotten in. 

Now you were working with one of the top dogs of the whole Hero industry, and the pressure of that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

“So, what do ya think of your first hero meeting?” Miruko asked, her red eyes gleaming as she walked alongside you as the rest of the heroes crowded out of the conference room.

“It was-interesting” you spoke carefully, your tongue trying to find the best words. It was exhilarating to be around all these heroes, from up and coming to even the #1, but you had to admit it wasn't as intense as you had imagined it to be. 

“Hella boring, huh?” Miruko interjected truthfully, her voice booming and unapologetic. “Eh, don't worry, these aren't every meeting. The team ups are better- alot more interesting things go on in those ones-”

Just then, a man dressed in a simple white shirt and black pants came up to the Bunny hero, a badge connected to his belt. 

“Hey detective, what can I do for you?” she asked goodnaturedly, her slim fingers wrapping around her hips.

“Im extremely sorry to bother you on such short notice, but we have a case currently revolving around a few villains you reprimanded last week and needed a testimony from you about their quirks-”

“Sure thing!” she grinned, her red eyes traveling from the detective down to you, ,”You think youll be okay? Ill only be gone for a few minutes,”

“O-of course! Ill be fine,” your smile wavered slightly, a small gulp being emitted from your throat. 

Alone? Around all these heroes? You didn’t feel too ready for that- but you had to start somewhere. It was time to rip off that band-aid and be one with the heroes.

You began to feel your hands get clammy all ready as you watched the scene in front of you, feeling like a goldfish in a tank of sharks.

“An actual angel walking on the ground-never thought I’d see the day,” you heard a male voice next to you, the tone nonchalant and mischievous. You turned to your side, the wind getting kicked out of your chest-

No. Damn. Way.

“Your Hawks-the Winged Hero,” you breathed out in shock, 

The hero smiled at you, his wide grin playful as he gazed at you with those piercing yellow eyes

“The one and only,” he said cockily.

You werent going to lie-Hawks was one of your favorite heroes, probably your all time favorite. He was so successful for his age, being only a few years older than you. His quirk was also extremely powerful, and he was a huge inspiration for you since his quirk was so similar to yours. Also, the fact that he was known to be kind of a flirt, on top of him being incredibly handsome, made you the biggest fangirl for him.

“Gotta say babe, your wings are pretty impressive-surprise you didn't apply to my agency,” the winged hero commented, his voice extremely calm and inviting.

But wait-did he just call you ‘babe’? Oh god-your heart began to pound against your chest, your cheeks feeling warm from the small word. 

You grinned slightly at the hero, your expression small and almost shy.

“How do you know I didnt?” You quipped, trying to sound calm as the attractive hero continued to give you that playful smirk.

“Oh believe me-I would have remembered if you did,” his voice almost dropped, sounding way more huskier than before. 

Christ-he really was a flirt. You could practically feel your heart banging against your rib cage, your hands feeling clammy and your cheeks quite warm.

 He was too teasing for his own good-but it was almost endearing, like he was trying to impress you.

It reminded you of birds during mating Season, the ones who would sing the prettiest songs in order to attract a mate-and really any mate. Hawks was probably just like that-say a few pretty things, and had some fun trying to get a girl hooked under those ruby red wings.

“But I don't blame you for going with Miruko,” he admitted,” she's one hell of a hero, probably the one of the best ones around,”

You cocked your head in confusion, a short wave of shock circling your body. Hawks seemed too cocky to say a positive remark about a hero-most of the time he was preaching about how the heroes played it too safe and the hero world needed a desperate change. He seemed to group all heroes into a category and gave himself a whole one to himself, as if he was different from everyone around him. 

So yeah, it was a little strange to hear him congratulate any hero really, but it feels your chest with pride-you definitely had to have made a good decision going with Miruko if the most judgmental hero in Japan seemed to approve. But you still felt a little guilty for making him think you only cared about getting in with Miruko and not any other hero.

“Well, I was planning on applying to more agencies,” you stated, an apologetic smile playing on your lips, “yours was on the list,

The hero chuckled at your remark, not taking you quite seriously. “Oh I bet-”

“It was, I promise!” You smiled at him, your tone trying to be reassuring. 

God, why did he have to be so-well-pretty? He was looking at you strangely, as if he was drinking you in as you continued to talk. His lemon yellow eyes were glazed over with adoration, and you couldn’t t help but be flustered by the sight.

“Its just-she took me on so quickly,” you gulped out, trying desperately to calm your beating heart, “ it was kinda shocking. I honestly was so excited I just took her offer and didn't think of going to other agencies,”

“Awww, Not even mind, angel?” He cooed out, his feathers vibrating with the small sound, “It would have been fun having you around-

“I promise, I would have applied to your agency in a heartbeat if she didn't accept me,” you reassured the hero.

He simply nodded, an accepting grin playing on his face as if he finally took your word for it. His gloved hands were hidden into his pant pockets, his Stance calm and comfortable.

“So, angel,” he asked, changing the subject,   “how long have you  been interning with Mirko?”

Something about this hero calling you “angel” felt different-of course it was your hero name, and of course he would call you by that but-it felt different coming from him. It sounded playful and flirtatious as if he was calling you by a secret little pet name only reserved for you. It may because of his coy antics or his seductive smirk, but it was making you feel warm and comfy inside.

“This will be my 3rd week,” you replied, your blush getting much worse 

“Third week, huh?” he said, his voice genuinely curious, “Has she been teaching you alotta things?”

“Oh yeah she's amazing!” you exclaimed. 

Mirko was the most amazing mentor and even more. Most sidekicks or interns had the worst time with big time heroes, always left on the back burner to do the heroes paperwork or simply do tedious errands for them without ever learning a single thing. But with Miruko, this wasn’t the case at all. 

This was a blessing and a curse-since you were always out on patrol with  the hero, the media had seem to take a liking to you. Not only were you always beaten up and tired, you had to now deal with being in the limelight since you were Miruko’s new sidekick, something the media never thought they’d see.

 “I’ve been patrolling, working on small cases, even being able to actually stop a few crimes- I think that's why the press is so on me,” you added, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips.

You heard the hero chuckle slightly, his wavy blonde hair shaking as he shook his head

“Aw, you really are a little baby bird-” he cooked at you, your eyebrows cocked in confusion.

A baby bird? 

He seemed to notice your confusion, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.

“Ah don’t worry angel, I don’t mean anything bad by calling you that,” he stated, “You're not used to this whole hero thing. But promise me, you'll get used to it-,”

“Especially when they make dumb scandals about you-”

He added on, his tone more tired. It was true with Hawks being one of the Top 10 heroes and being as young as he is, he had his fair share of conspiracies and allegations revolving around him.

“Oh, like the one about your favorite food being chicken? I thought that one was hilarious”,” you giggled.

Hawks turned to you, his cheeky grin now turn to one coated in seriousness,

““Oh no, babe,  that one is completely real,”

You whipped around, your eyes blown out wide with shock

“What? Your joking-“

“Completely serious!” He laughed, his grin wide and mischievous, “Who doesn't love fried chicken! It's the best food in my opinion-ya can't go wrong with it,”

You gave him a playful look of distaste, your noise scrunched up.

 “Really? But it’s kinda, well, weird-“

Hawks groaned, but that smile was still plastered on his face. 

“Don’t tell me your siding with those tabloid writers,” 

“This time-maybe,” you giggled, a smile you were sporting uncontainable.

“Aw, Cmon angel, I was beginning to like you!” He chuckled playfully along with you

Finally as your laughs began to die down, a thought crossed your mind, and you turned to the Wing Hero With the question playing on your tongue.

“Ya know I've always wanted to ask you something,” you said, your eyes meeting the sun yellow orbs of Hawk’s

That smile was still tugging at his lips, making him look adorably young and boyish.

“Lay it on me babe-”

You swallowed thickly, a miix of nervousness and embarrassment filling your stomach.

“How to do you use your wings? In battle-or when you fly?”

It was Hawk’s turn to look confused, his fluffy eyebrows angled softly. He seemed to understand what you meant by how self conscious you look, a hint of sympathy playing in his eyes.

“Wait-” he said slowly,  “you mean you don't know how to use your wings?”

You cringed, hating how blunt the sentence sounded. It was true, you never really got the hang of using your wings. It was embarrassing to admit it, but it was something you had to work through. If you wre going to be a high ranking Hero you were going to need to be at 100% of your potential.

“Wll I-I do, I can float but I cant fly very high up-,” you stumbled out,” nowhere near your height though. And I want to be able to carry people and well- I just don’t know how to start,”

Hawk’s nonchalant girn was again on his face, “See, little chickadee, this is why you should have applied to my agency,” he joked.

You sighed exasperatedly 

“I know,” you smiled, “you have a  good point there,”

The gloved digits of Hawk’s hand wrapped around his chin, his lips pouted slightly in thought.

“Honestly, it took me a little bit to really get the hang of it- Ive been using my wings since I was a kid- so it might be some time for you to get the hang of yours”

“Id be up for helping you with some pointers,” He turned to you, a playful grin plastered on his cheeks. That smile would be the death of you- it somehow made your head feel incredibly cloudy and your legs feel like jelly. 

“ but you gotta promise me one thing,”

You cocked your head, your eyebrows stitched in confusion

“Whats that?”

You had never seen a more shit eating grin in your life- Haws gazed up at you, his eyes glinting devilishily

“Don't fly too high up-Can't be having an angel going back up to heaven” he said, making your cheeks incredibly hot as he walked away, knowing full well he had made you too flustered to even talk.

Damn- he really was a flirt

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

“Great job, chickadee, your really getting the hang of this!” Hawks yelled out, his hands cupped over his mouth.

Your cheeks were red with pride and nervousness, your wings flapping against you as you hovered in the air. You were probably 3 stories high on Hawk’s agency building, your eyes trying to desperately to not look down. 

This was exhilarating to be so high up, but- it was terrifying!

Your heart was pacing against your chest, a heavy drum that was painfully raping against your rib age.

Don’t look down, don’t look down….damn it.

You caught a glimpse of your feet in midair, your steel plated boots almost floating over the street below as cars honked at each other and pedestrians walked along the asphalt.

The extremely hard, durable asphalt that could turn you into a human pancake in a matter of seconds.

The image of that terrible idea made your head swarm with panic- your wings flapping haphazardly as you flew backwards back to the safety of the balcony.

This was too much-this height was insane. Hawks was insane- how could he even fly comfortably at this height!

Hawks had been training you a few days a week, something you were extremely grateful for- you were know working as a sidekick with one of the top heroes and having private lesson with the #2 hero?! You honestly couldn't be more grateful-

Until he decided to make you fly by yourself on top of an extremely high building. On your 5th lesson! How crazy could this man be?

You weren't even noticing how fast your wings were flying backwards until your feet hit the firm tiles of the balcony. It took you by surprise, another pit slamming your chest as you tried to catch yourself from falling on your face, your feet shuffling backwards in an attempt to find some grounding.

So you chickened out of an exercise (something Hawks was definitely going to joke about) and now you were going to bruise your ass from falling in front of your favorite hero /crush. Just great.

“Whoa there, babe, slow down!”

You felt a pair of gloved hands grab ahold of your waist, the hands firm and tight against your ribcage. You could practically hear the laughter in Hawk’s voice, as if he found your fail incredibly amusing. 

Your cheeks were heating up, realizing how close you were to the hero- his chest was pressed up against your back, and you could feel his chin grazing against your windswept hair.

“So,” he asked, his voice taking on a more husky tone, “how’d it feel when you fell from heaven?”

God, that voice- hearing him flirt so close to your ear made his words sound way too intimate, making your back tingle and your cheeks blaze red.

An exasperated groan slipped from your lips, your body pushing away from Hawk’s as he began to chuckle at your flusteredness.

“You were just dying to say that, huh?”

“What, you can't blame a guy!” he said between laughs, “you did set me up for it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, your back turning away from him in an attempt to hide your obvious blush.

“You're still a little scared to fly high, huh?” Hawks tone was calm and nonchalant, making you feel grateful that he wasn't too mad at you for freaking out so suddenly.

You tucked a piece of hair self consciously behind your ear. It was so frustrating to you- you were gifted with these wonderful wings, yet you could barely use them “Yeah, a little,” you sighed, “its just-I don't know how to get over it, and it feel like I'm not improving fast enough-”

Hawks sent you a sympathetic smirk, his lemon yellow eyes gleaming in the golden rays of sunset. 

“Ah dont put too much pressure on yourself Angel, you'll get it eventually!”

“And besides,” he added, “you have been getting better- before we started you could barely flap your wings...now look at you! You flew over a whole street for almost 5 minutes!”

His smile was beaming, his tone so supportive and kind. Times like this you almost wished you had chosen to apply to be Hawk’s sidekick- he was so carefree and positive about everything. he somehow made every situation feel like a milestone, no matter how little you improved, and it made you feel a little better about your progress.

You gave him a meek smile, the cruddy feeling of failure still sinking in your chest.

“Aw, don't give me that sad face, angel,” he cooed, “you're gonna be just fine- you'll see,”

Still- you couldn't seem to get out of your saddened daze, even with his overwhelming positivity. 

Hawks seemed to notice, the usually chatty man suddenly quiet. It was strange to see him like that,as he rubbed his pointer finger against his stubbled chin, deep in thought.

“Ya know, I think I know just what you need,” he finally said, his tone warm like honey, “you need a small break- something to take your mind off of all this.”

“There’s a little diner on the West side of town- it's got the best comfort food you've ever tasted, and you can really taste the flavor in their meals,” Hawk sent you a glimmering smile, one that could stop your heart in a matter of seconds.

 “What do ya say, angel, down for some grub? It'll be my treat, promise.”

Free food and you get to spend time with your mentor/crush? You sighed, a smile creeping onto your lips. 

“Sure, why not,”

  ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

And thats how you ended up here, in a little whole in the wall diner near Hawk’s apartment.

The restaurant was decorated to look relatively old, 1950’s memorabilia plastered on the walls and even a jukebox playing dance music from the era playing softly in the background.

The place was quite adorable in your opinions, and you really couldnt understand how Hawks had even found the place.

Until you realized- they had the best fried chicken you ever eaten in your whole life

Hawks wasnt lying when he said the food was good-it was incredible, the flavors and textures so warm and crisp as they dissolved on your tongue. 

You two had gobbled up the meal, hungry from a days worth of training. The milkshakes Hawks had ordered for you two after was just was as amazing as the food itself, the creamy dessert cooling against your throat and making your whole body tingle with joy

It also helped that Hawks was the best partner to eat, with his bizarre stories and crazy antics having you giggling between bites, sometimes making you forget to eat as you got sucked in to his crazy retellings.

You two had finally finished, your stomachs full and genuine smiles gracing your cheeks.

You sighed in content, a smile gracing your lips 

“The food was amazing Hawks, thank you-”

You had honestly never seen Hawks looks so domestic- he was sporting a simple white tee and dark jeans, a gold watch adorning his wrist. You guessed the hero had to always wear something somewhat flashy but still- it was strange to see him so casual. 

But you werent complaining- it made him more approachable and lovable in a way, making your dinner feel less like a meal between colleagues but between close friends.

You watched Hawks wave his hand, stopping your sentence in its tracks.

“Call me Keigo,” he interrupted, a playful grin plastered on his cheeks, “since I took you out to dinner, I think its only right for you to call me by my actual name,”

You gulped, your eyes wide with shock-the Hawks gave you permission to call him by his real name?

The fangrl in you wanted to scream and to jump up and down like an excited 12 year old. Thankfully, the practical side of you pushed those urges deep down, only the shock of his sentence riddling throughout your body

“Right uh- Keigo,” you gulped out, “-I definitely owe you one for showing me this place,”

“Your welcome angel, its my pleasure,”

You smiled softly, your lips pursed slightly from nervousness.

“Ya know,” you said, your tone soft and open. “you dont have to call me by my hero name either if you dont want to,” 

If he was being so welcoming with you, shouldn't you do the same? He had taken you to dinner after all, and even paid for you, even after you had insisted he didnt have to. Hawks-Keigo- was being so kind to you, you had to at least do something in return. 

“- you can call me by my real name,”

A hum rumbled from Hawk’s chest, his hand stroking his stubble chin.

“Thats true but the thing is- I like calling you angel”

He sent you a flirtatious smirk from across the table, making your heart stop beating in its tracks. Keigo was a piece of work to understand- one minute he was being supportive like a mentor would be to their student, and the next he was flirting with you like he was trying to pick up a girl at a bar. Was this really how he acted with everyone? Or just-you?

You cocked your head in confusion, your cheeks hot from his sentence.

“Why?”

He grinned, his sultry yellow eyes trained on yours.

“Its like Im calling you by a pet name, like ‘babe’ or ‘dove’,” he explained, taking a pause to place his words correctly,” but it's more...personal.”

That shit eating grin was evident on his face again, making him look boyish as he leaned in towards you.

“its also kinda cute when you get all flustered when I say it,”

Well-crap.

“I-I dont get flustered,” you stuttered, making your lie blatantly obvious.

The man chuckled, obviously loving every second of this.

“Then why are you blushing angel?” he taunted sweetly,

 “Don't think for a second I didn’t notice your little crush on me,”

Oh no.

This wasnt good.

God, you knew you blushed alot but- how dumb of you to not assume he knew you liked him! You wanted to crawl in a hole, to just dissolve into the ground and disappear.

“I dont have a crush on you- your just my mentor, your just helping me-” you denied his accusation, your voice desperate to prove it to him and yourself.

You didnt have feeling for this Hero, you couldnt, he was just someone who helped you, you shouldnt like him like this-

“Aww lets not lie to ourselves little dove, you dont have to be so defensive,” he was smiling at you so wide, as if he was being reassuring. But something was different about this smile, and the way he looked at you- it was so tender and almost-nervous?

“Why do you think I took you to this place? It wasnt just to get your mind off of training you know,”

You stared at him in complete confusion.

That was why he had taken you here right? To cheer you up-but then again, Keigo didn't have to do this. He could have just patted you on the back and said “Good job.” He didn't have to take you to his favorite restaurant, buy you a meal, and even dessert, and tell you all his most interesting and sometimes embarrassing stories. He didn't have to lend you his jacket that you were wearing right now after you said you were cold, or promise to drive you home once it was got dark. He didn't have to do any of these things-but he did.

“Wait- This-this is a date, isnt it?” you stated bluntly, the revelation hitting you like a ton of bricks.

Keigo smiled timidly at you, the first time you had ever seen him look so nervous

“Only if you want it to be,” he chuckled, trying to sound nonchalant.

He sighed, clearly riddled with nerves as  his eyes staring down at his watch, trying to find the best words

“I-I know this is kinda sudden,” he finally said, “ and I should have told you straight before taking you here, but- I like you. Your fun ,and snarky, and so goddamn beautiful it makes my head spin. You make me smile so much, and I-I want to be with you.”

Hawks looked up at you, those bright hazel eyes staring at you with such love it took your breath away. You felt your whole body feel warmth, like honey was now flooding your veins. You honestly never imagined the hero to ever have feelings for you, but with this confession hanging in the air, you couldn’t feel happier.

“What do ya say, angel,” he asked, his hand stretching across the table and encasing yours, “ wanna give this a go?” 

You stared down at that hand, seeing his digits wrap so effortlessly around yours. It felt natural, yet exhilarating , a low, pleasant buzz forming from the small touch. It just felt-right.

“Sure,” you smiled, your fingers now curling around his, “ lets do it,”

Taggings (if you want to be added to the tag list, just shoot me an ask! Im also trying to work on an official tag list post, so you might see that soon! ) 

@weebartistinc @orokayagi @leeeah-loooser @bakarinnie

[harksness]

Olivia Octavius x Reader

A/N: I got a lot of people telling me they’d read my Doc Ock fic so here it is! I hope you guys like it, I'm so sorry I made you guys wait so long. I got nervous about uploading it so I kept rereading and editing it, but here it is now! I didn't have any prompts for this fic so I came up with something on the spot, I hope its okay! If you want me to write more let me know!!! xxx

Ring...

Ring...

Ring...

“Hello there-! Just kidding. Olivia Octavius here and this is my voicemail. I’m probably super busy doing science-y stuff, or making out with my girlfriend, so leave a message and maybe I’ll call you back. Maybe I won’t.”

You groaned in frustration, hitting the end call button. Olivia promised she would be home in time for your date of Netflix and popcorn, there's a movie she's wanted to watch for awhile now and you suggested to watch it together. She excitedly agreed, but now she was going on three hours late. She hasn’t responded to any of your texts and calls and you’re getting really worried, but still you made a mental note to bring up the “making out with my girlfriend” part of her voicemail with her later.

Chewing your bottom lip nervously, you stood from the couch, leaving behind some unwatched Netflix movie and an empty bowl of popcorn you ate up over the course of the last three hours of waiting, deciding to go out and look for her. Maybe she fell asleep working again, or she stopped by the book store on her way home. She’s done it before, and spent hours picking out books and reading through them. 

She’s going to be the death of you.

Just as you slipped on your shoes, you heard the door fling open, slamming against the wall with a loud BANG! and knocking down some photos in the process. You turned your head so fast it’s surprising you didn’t break your neck, and there you see your girlfriend. She’s a mess, dirt smudged all over her suit and on her cheeks, hair tangled, and her clothes torn. She’s somehow even missing a boot.

Standing up straight, you were preparing yourself to scold her, but she hurriedly ran past you and flung herself over and onto the couch, grabbing the remote and turning it to the news.

“Babe! Look! I’m on the evening news!”

Liv pointed at the TV excitedly, the biggest grin on her face. You glanced up noticing the headline: “Who is the Octopus Woman?” the poor quality cell phone video showed your girlfriend and Spider-man fighting it out in a crowded street. “Hah! That fight was a doozy. And, that kid.. Is fascinating. His powers are fascinating, he has some sort of spider-senses, so he could sense my moves. It was really hard to fight against him. I’m gonna be sore for weeks, babe.”

She finally looked up at you, wiggling her eyebrows. You sighed, and after a moment decided to laugh at the silly gesture instead of stay mad at her. You sat down next to your dorky girlfriend as she started to ramble on about her opponent and her fight against him. She slung her arm around your shoulders, and you couldn’t help but admire how adorable she is when she gets excited. Her eyes are so bright with excitement, her lopsided grin wide as she goes on. You’d ask her questions when you could, and she would respond eagerly. When the clip ended, they started discussing who they thought this “Octopus Woman” is, and Olivia would laugh loudly and correct their theories as if they could hear her. You just smiled and laughed along with her, snuggling into her chest as she leaned back onto the couch. She started to absentmindedly draw circles on your skin as she debated with the news hosts. Olivia froze in the middle of a sentence, turning to look at you.

“Um.. Why did you make popcorn?”

You raised an eyebrow at her. For a genius, she says some silly things sometimes.

“Well, my love, popcorn is a kind of snack food that people typically enjoy eating when they watch movies, or just because it’s delicious.”

She laughed nervously before responding.

“I mean.. I missed our date, didn’t I?”

She said quietly, and you nodded. She sighed, slipping her arm from around your shoulders as she sat up, pulling the tie from her hair, shaking it out as it fell down her back like a curtain. 

“I’m sorry.”

Olivia said, looking back at you. You sat up, wrapping your arms around her waist and leaning your head against her shoulder.

“It’s okay, Liv. I know you’ll make it up to me, you always do. Plus you missed it for a pretty awesome reason.”

She turned in your grasp so she could properly look at you, her intense gaze would have put you off if you weren’t used to it by now.

“It’s not okay. Yeah, fighting Spider-man was pretty badass but I would have rather been here with you. I’m so sorry, you put up with so much. Me being late all the time, missing dates, staying up late working which results in me falling asleep at work. I do that a lot! I’m never there to-”

You shushed her guilty rambling. She’s right, she does fall asleep working a lot, but she is being dramatic. She hasn’t missed many dates, or stayed late at work for months.

“This is the first date you’ve missed in months.”

She looked at you for a moment, thinking about what to say. 

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

She settled for grumbling that under her breath, pouting slightly. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone try so hard to make themselves look guilty. You laughed.

“Liv, I accepted that you’d miss a few dates since the first night you fell asleep at work. When you became Spider-man’s most feared nemesis, ‘Octopus Woman’, I just accepted it even more. Accidents happen sometimes, sometimes we forget. It’s okay.”

You tried to keep the conversation lighthearted by teasing her with the name the media gave her. She smiled warmly at you, sighing. You could tell she gave up on trying to convince you she was guilty.

“You’re too forgiving.”

“What, do you want me to punish you?”

Now it was your turn to wiggle your eyebrows suggestively. Her jaw dropped slightly, shocked at your dirty comment, but after a moment she just laughed softly.

“I think I might love that actually. Switch things up a bit.”

She leaned in towards you as she spoke those words, placing her lips on your own in a soft, sweet kiss. After all the time you’ve been dating, every time she kisses you, or does something mushy and romantic, she still manages to turn you into a lovestruck teenager all over again. Every time, she manages to make your heart jump out of your chest and your stomach turn to jelly. You chuckled at her words before your eyes fluttered close, bringing up your hands to cup her cheeks as you returned the kiss. She hummed softly at your touch, your fingers caressing over the smudges of dirt from her fight. 

You pulled back reluctantly and she pouted again. You scoffed at her dorkiness before tucking a stray lock of her frizzy brown hair behind her ear.

“My darling, I would absolutely love to take you up on that offer, but you’re a mess. What happened? Why are you so dirty?”

Her eyes lit up in realization as she felt the dirt on her cheeks.

“I forgot about that.. We fought a lot, eventually I got thrown into some mud.”

“Well next time you see Spider-man, tell him he’s gonna have to deal with me for dirtying up my girlfriend.”

She laughed manically, watching you as you stood from your stop on the couch.

“Now THAT would be terrifying, even for Spider-man.”

You returned her laugh, and held your hand out to her. 

“C’mon, Doc Ock. You need a bath. A long, hot bath.”

Your girlfriend held your hand as she stood. 

“Yeah. You’d be surprised over how much mud is actually on me right now.”

[writingsofadream]

Masterpiece | Part II

Pairing : Yoongi x Reader

Story : He’s looking for heartbreak and inspiration, and you’re just looking for a new laptop.

Set during the writing and recording period of Love Yourself: Tear. Involves angst, fluff, and smut. Multiple chapter series. 5.9k words in this part :)

♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬

Staring at the stranger beside you indignantly, you couldn’t help but show your surprise at his words. This earns a smirk from him, which you can’t decide if you love or hate. 

“I’ll buy it for you, Y/N. If you’ll let me buy you a coffee too.” His words follow the smirk just as confidently, and you narrow your eyes suspiciously. The dingy store’s owner gives a low whistle of disbelief, seemingly just as confused as you were.

“What’s your name?” You demand, crossing your arms to close the open air between your body and his. His hard, no doubt fit body…he certainly wasn’t chubby like the blonde guy. 

“Yoongi. Min Yoongi.” At this, he extends his long-fingered hand to you, waiting for you to slip yours into his. Swallowing, you reach out and grip it lightly. His hand is cold, and smooth. His skin seems to electrocute yours, and after a moment in his firm grip you wrench your hand back. 

“And why exactly are you buying me a laptop, Mr Min Yoongi?” You arch an eyebrow, pulling your arms back into a somewhat stern cross again. It feels childish and no doubt looks it too, judging by the amusement dancing in his deep, dark eyes. 

“Because I’d like to interview you, and paying you for your time seems only natural. Plus, I have the money for it.” He throws the last sentence out like an easy addition, shrugging his shoulders naturally. 

“Yea, I noticed the ring.” You scoffed at this, unable to hold it back at how ridiculous it was to be smug but not show your wealth until someone asked. What a…snob? 

His jaw hardens and a sliver of the amusement drops from his eyes. Whoops. He breathes in deeply before addressing you again. The words that come back out sound no longer lighthearted, but annoyed. 

“Look, take it or not, I don’t care. Just make your mind up. Either I buy it for you and get that interview, or I can pay for it and walk away with it. I was here first.” His gaze is intent on you, and you feel your cheeks become hotter with embarrassment. How did you always manage to make yourself seem like a fool, you thought to yourself quietly. No wonder you’d been single for over a year; you didn’t give off good girlfriend vibes, whatever the fuck they were. 

“I’ll take it.” The words are out of your mouth before you can properly consider it, and once they were out they sat in the cold air of the shop. A smile crept across Yoongi’s face, and then the shop owner broke the thick silence. 

“So, Yoongs, I’ll ring it up?” Yoongi nods to the man, and peers at you as though inspecting you. Feeling as though you’re compelled to say something, you clear your throat and thank him. He shrugs again, as though buying strangers laptops was something he did all the time. You were certain it wasn’t. Somehow, between his dark clothes, demeanour, and his steeled gaze, you didn’t pick him for the type of guy to hand out MacBooks like Oprah. 

“Where are we having coffee?” You direct towards his shoulder, as he faces the machine to swipe his Platinum credit card. Without glancing back at you he answers, throwing the words over his shoulder in your general direction. 

“Wherever you want, Y/N. My shout.” The last two words come out with a wink, and he tugs his card from the machine and faces you once again. 

“Here you are, Y/N. I’m Chaen, by the way.” The store’s owner hands you the bag with your new laptop in it, a grin on his face though still obviously a little confused. Thanking him and promising to come back next time you needed anything electrical, you took the bag from his hands and made your way out of the store. Yoongi followed behind you, shaking the man’s hand as though they were good friends. Grabbing your raincoat from the stand, you pushed the heavy door open into the small alleyway. Noting the rain had stopped, you shoved it into the bag with the MacBook box. It was still overcast and chilly, so you were thankful for the warm jumper you’d been smart enough to pick out. Whipping around, you faced Yoongi and bit your lip. Where should you two even go? He seemed to be thinking the same thing as he stared at you, clearly waiting for you to voice your decision. 

“The cat cafe.” Pleased with your decision, you attempt to throw a friendly smile his way, only to be met with a bemused one. 

“A cat cafe?” He laughs. “I could’ve guessed, Y/N.” 

___

Why had he invited her? Well, he supposed, she was as good as any person to ask. A pretty girl like her? Surely she’s had her heart broken by some obnoxious jock at least once in her lifetime. And if he wasn’t any good at the questions, it was only a loss of a few thousand won that he wouldn’t miss. Plus, he would know not to do any more of them. That’s what this is then, he decided. An experiment. 

She sits across from him, a white and brown kitten on her lap. Sinking into her oversized lilac jumper, the kitten seems to be falling asleep, much to her delight. Looking down at the little animal and stroking its small ears with her delicate fingers, Yoongi feels something tighten in his chest. A strand of her hair falls into her eyes and she tucks the unruly piece back behind her ear. Looking up, she meets his eyes and he coughs in a not-so-subtle attempt to hide his blatant staring.

“So, what’s this interview anyway?” Her voice is pretty and light, and Yoongi thinks for a second before answering. He has to be careful with what he says, especially since she seems unaware of who he is. She’d been a little confused at being ushered to the back and tucked away in a little booth - luckily he’d managed to convince her the rest of the cafe was too loud to record properly. 

“It’s for a project I’m doing. On heartbreak.” She cocks her head and furrows her brow a little at this. 

“Oh…and they’ll just be a few questions, then?” Yoongi nods at her question, perhaps a little too enthusiastically as she scoots herself and the kitten towards the window. Shuffling over so she’s directly facing him again, he tries to set her mind at ease.

“I just need reliable answers and it won’t take that long. I promise.” She seems convinced, or just like she’s giving up. Settling back into the plush of the booth, she sighs and closes her eyes for a moment. Yoongi watches her, enthralled by the way her delicate collarbones peak out from the top of her jumper. She opens her eyes again, and his own jump back up to her face. 

Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans he pulls out his phone, opening the recording app and setting it in between them. Pressing the record button, he starts.

“So, Y/N, have you ever had your heart broken?” 

__

He’s pulled his hoodie back, and you can see now that his hair is black and makes him even more fucking handsome. His question is calm and controlled as he watches you from across the small booth’s table. Nervously stroking the kitten in your lap, you paused before answering.

“No.” He doesn’t seem pleased by your answer, rolling his eyes and leaning back in his seat. As he does, his hands lay out on the table and his jumper is pulled up. Sitting on his wrist shines a Rolex, brand-new and gleaming. You instantly reach out to touch it, stopping yourself just before making contact.

“Is that a Rolex?” You ask, eyes wide. You hadn’t actually ever seen one in real life before, and no one you knew owned one, that was for sure. In fact, you weren’t entirely sure anyone bought them other than celebrities and business men with too much time on their hands…or rather, wrists. Definitely not dark, brooding guys like the one sitting across from you. 

“Yea, it’s a Rolex. Says so on the face.” His smart-ass comment and smirk annoys you, and you pull your hand back quickly. He definitely was fond of smirking, you’d give him that. Frustratingly, it made him even more attractive. 

“I can read.” Your retort sounds stupid as it leaves your mouth, and you regret it instantly. Hurriedly, you switch the conversation back to what it’s supposed to be about. 

“Why heartbreak?” Your question seems to puzzle him, and his eyes leave yours to look out the window into the pouring rain. Outside, the trees swayed heavily with the weight of the wind, Seoul’s streets a mix of green, grey, and various lights shining through the haze. It was beautiful. 

“Why not?” He’s turned his attention back to you now, resting his chin in his pale hand. It framed his face, and for a spilt second you wondered what they’d look like around your neck. Shaking the image from your mind, you motioned for him to explain.

“Love is a difficult emotion. That’s all.” He brushes it off nonchalantly, then turns the questioning back around.

“What do you do for a living? Between school, that is.” His question doesn’t seem to have anything to do with his chosen topic, but you answer it anyway. Lucky for him, you’re starting to feel a little more comfortable in the warm cafe. The kitten on your lap purrs softly, the hot hazelnut mocha relaxing you. 

“I work at a cafe. It’s a little quaint, but it’s okay. It’s the best I can do for now.” Hoping he’ll leave your life at that, you open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it.

“Do you like working there?” His face seems genuine, and the question is natural enough. You shift slightly in your seat, and the kitten stirs. 

“I do and I don’t. I guess it’s just one of those things.” The kitten bounces off your lap, and you pout a little as it prances across the cafe to a couple walking in from the rain.

“One of those things?” He really won’t give up, will he? You look down into your coffee, bringing it up to your lips for a quick reassuring sip. 

“Yea. Life. Have to get money somehow.” He sips his coffee, which he took black, unsurprisingly. Setting it back on the wooden table, he licks the drink from his lips. You instinctively stare at his mouth, the way his tongue darts across the soft pink. Feeling a familiar warmth in your crotch, you bring your eyes swiftly back down to the brown beverage in your hands. 

“I love what I do. Do you want to see?” You peer up at him. What the fuck? That probably wasn’t safe, right? Then again, you couldn’t help but be intrigued by his proposition. Besides, you had nothing better to do, and the man did buy you a MacBook. 

“We can continue the interview there, if you like.” Your answer is greeted by a gummy smile, and he suddenly looks soft and inviting. Just as quickly as it appeared, though, it’s snatched away as he brings his mouth back to a smug, subtle smile. 

“Cool. I’ll call a taxi.” 

__

Why was he bringing her back to his studio? He had no fucking clue. As he paid the taxi driver and stepped out into the rain, he pulled his hoodie back onto his head. She reached into the MacBook bag for the scrunched-up raincoat, wrapping it around her body but leaving the hood down. Maybe she just didn’t care about how she looked, he thought, and the rain started to wet her hair. Grabbing her arm, he tugs her into the building. Unmarked, BigHit logos are nowhere to be seen. The company had agreed to keep it clear of anything that would bring attention to the building that held all their personal studios; that way they could work in peace, without the incessant fans and management. Keying in his personal code, the door swung open. The lobby inside was marble and modern, and he heard her gasp at the presentation of it. He hated it, to be honest. It felt cold and uninviting, though ironically people said the same about him. 

Walking up to the elevator, he pressed the button to his studio’s floor. In fact, all the boys’ studios were on the same floor. It was a big fucking floor. 

The silence in the elevator was palpable, but Yoongi simply felt like he didn’t know what to say. She was chewing her plump bottom lip, and between her slightly damp hair and delicate features he felt stumped on what to say. Usually he never wanted to say much at all, but now he kinda longed to say something to her. It’d be great if he just knew what to say.

He wasn’t sure why he’d suggested it, like the cafe, but he definitely wanted to show her what he did. That much was clear. He liked her sense of humour, her way of putting things. She seemed almost…whimsical. 

The ping of the elevator jerked him from his thoughts, and he pointed out into the extending hallway. 

“Those are a lot of rooms. Which ones is yours?” She looks at him, eyes wide at the length and breadth of the expensive-looking way ahead. 

“Follow me.” He sounds smooth and his pitch is normal, thank god. For a second he thought he’d choke on his words looking into her eyes. He wanted to fuck her, dammit. 

__

Walking into the room was a stark contrast from the marbled floors and walls of the rest of the building. It was unlit, save the grey light of the late afternoon rain shining in from an open window on the end wall. There was a couch, big enough to double as a bed pushed against one of the walls. The rest of the room contained computers, a keyboard, microphones, and a whole array of other recording devices you couldn’t even begin to guess at. The monitors were massive, and when Yoongi shook the mouse the screens displayed various softwares, all seeming to do with music. He ran a hand through his hair, then turned back to look at you. He looked almost nervous, as if searching for your approval, and you felt that feeling in your stomach again. Lit up in the grey, rainy light and the soft white of the screens, he was so good looking you thought you might pass out right there and then. Instead, you felt arousal prick at your body. Fuck. Trying to push it away, you finally spoke.

“You’re a musician?” His shoulders relax, and he leans back against the desk on a rare spot that isn’t covered in sheet music and other scribbles of paper. 

“And a producer. I’m in a group.” He points at the small couch underneath the window. “Wanna finish the heartbreak and shit interview?” 

“I hope it doesn’t involve literal shit.” The joke is bad and poorly timed, and you cringe at the bluntness of it. “Sorry, my jokes are…well, shit.”Surprisingly, he bursts out laughing. You join him, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders as the two of you fill the air with the sound. 

“Nah, no shit.” He walks over to the couch, clearly amused. Plunking down, he pulls his phone back out again. As you sit down next to him, you accidentally read the top message on his screen as he turns it on and goes to lock it. It’s from some guy named Namjoon, and the only words you made out were ‘tear’ ‘soon’ and something about dinner with the guys tonight. Interesting, you thought. So this Yoongi guy apparently has at least two friends, Chaen and this Namjoon. And who were the rest of the guys? Before you could think more on it, though, he turned to face you. 

“Can I propose we do something else instead?” He looks nervous again, but this time his eyes are…fixed. He knows what he wants. His stare runs through your whole body, and you push back a little further away from him. 

“What do you suggest?” Your voice is barely a whisper as his eyes cut through you, trailing down from your face over your breasts and down to your hands in your lap. Bringing them back up, he stares at you intently from his spot just a metre away. 

“I want to fuck you.” 

__

Yea, he’d just said it out loud. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. Looking at her, watching her, showing her something so intimate to him. Her stupid little joke, her loud and shameless laugh. He wanted to fuck her, plain and simple. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually had a good fuck. It had been some girl from another idol group, and she’d been tight and compliant but…not quite what he’d needed. He’d booty called her a few times, sure, but things had ended once she’d figured out he wasn’t looking for a relationship. Of course he wasn’t looking for a fucking relationship, why the fuck would he?

__

You froze at his request, realising he said it in all seriousness. Shifting on your butt, you tried to push a little further away from him but your back hit the wall instantly. He spoke again, less intensely this time. 

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. It would just be sex, though. I’m not looking for anything, and don’t feel obliged because I paid for that laptop.” His words take a moment to sink in, you feel nothing but shock throughout your body. But then, something else creeps in. Those lingering feelings of attraction and lust all hit the critical points in your being. Basked in the grey of the rain, hearing it pour down outside, it mixes with the soft whirr of his computers and various electronics. Looking at Yoongi, wearing his black clothes with his black hair, his handsome face with a sensual expression. You couldn’t believe it. You were actually contemplating fucking him. 

He seems unnerved by your silence, and moves back on the large couch. 

“The back goes down and we can pull it out, so it’s like a bed. I sleep here sometimes.” His confession barely makes its way into your ears as you continually toss about his proposition. Over and over it whirls around in your head, but finally you start to think clearly. Why not? You hadn’t had sex in over a year, and this was one of the only days you hadn’t had class, study, or work in literally weeks. Why not take the opportunity, you thought. 

Heart pounding in your chest, you bolted your body towards him, practically throwing yourself on top. Inches away from his face, you nodded fast before you could back out. 

“Yes,” you heard yourself say, “I’ll fuck you.” There it was, that smirk of his. This time it was more implicit than the others, the presence of sex hiding behind it. 

“Just this once.” You add with a rush at the end, just to make sure he doesn’t get any ideas. He turns his smirk into a grin, then brings his smooth hand up to cup your face. His long fingers take a disobedient strand of hair, tucking it back into place with a calculated slowness to it.  

“Works for me.” He gives you a dark wink, then suddenly his hand is gone from behind your ear. Your skin feels hot where he’s touched it, and despite any reservations you had you felt your panties become a little wetter. Dammit. Your body was almost betraying you. 

Standing, he started clicking something on the side of the bed. You stood too, realising he was pulling it out so it could become an even larger bed. So you could fuck. 

Pushing you back with one arm, he grabbed the underside of the furniture and tugged hard. It pulled back from the wall, the back falling to become the top of a bed. Clicking the buttons back into place, he then reached up into a higher cupboard to pull pillows down. Throwing them down onto the plush now-bed, he also pulls down a single white sheet. 

In an instant, his lips are on yours. Kissing you hard, he places his hands on your hips and pushes you down onto the bed in a rush. Bouncing against the soft mattress, you both shimmy up to the top. He pushes a pillow under your head, still feverishly kissing you. He nipped playfully at your bottom lip, his hands now exploring up under your jumper. You could taste the coffee on his tongue, in his mouth, and no doubt he was tasting your hazelnut mocha. As he ran his tongue across yours you gasped a little, and he smirked against your mouth. You felt as though your whole body was on fire, particularly the spot between your legs. It felt like a distant, yet all-too-familiar ache. 

He shifted his hard body above you, moving his top half off your body. Pulling off his hoodie, he threw it to the side with abandon. Coming back down, he supported himself with his elbow beside your head. You bit your lip, expecting more hard and rough coffee kisses. Instead, he slipped a hand between your thighs, meeting the denim of your cuffed blue jeans. He groaned a little, closing his eyes for a split second before rubbing a little harder, hard enough to meet your pussy through the fabric. Suppressing a soft moan, you bit your lip a little harder, tasting a small amount of blood in your mouth. Pulling his hand from your jeans and between your thighs, Yoongi reaches up and pulls your bottom lip out from your teeth.

“Take off your jeans, now.” The ‘now’ is said like an order, and a shiver of anticipation runs through your core. He rolls off you, sitting next to you patiently. 

“Hurry up, Y/N.” That one was definitely said like an order. Unbuttoning your jeans with shaky hands, you pulled them off your body without a second thought. Throwing them to join his hoodie, he suddenly brings his body back on top of yours. 

“Good girl,” he whispers, hot breath in your ear tickling your senses. “You’re good at taking orders.” Fuck, his words ran from your ear straight down to your heat. His head comes back down, his lips pushing against yours again. Opening your mouth for him, the tip of his tongue curls around yours. Now, his free hand is running along your inner thigh, slowly making its way closer to your wetness. Each inch feels antagonising, and the closer he gets the more you feel as though you’ll explode without his touch. 

“Tell me what you want, baby.” His order is directed into your mouth, and you murmur back quietly. 

“Touch me.” You don’t have to elaborate; Yoongi gets the message. His long fingers start to rub you through the thin fabric of your panties, and you moan against his swollen and wet lips. Through half-lidded eyes he brings his mouth from yours, his lust-filled eyes staring right into yours. It sends a twitch through your whole body, and he presses harder with his fingers. The pleasure is intense but manageable, just hard enough to feel good but not hard enough. He’s teasing you. 

“Press against me.” He utters the words so lowly you could almost swear you’d imagined them if you hadn’t seen his soft lips shape out the words. Every nerve in your body is electric, tingling. Rolling your hips, you push harder against his hands and he rolls his fingers less gently. The pressing feeling becomes more intense, and you whimper against his touch. 

“You’re so fucking hot.” His words are said roughly, and he latches his mouth to the sensitive skin of your neck. He sucks hard on the skin, and you can’t hold back the deep moan that comes up from your throat. The sensation of his sucking paired with the rubbing friction of his fingers pushing your panties against your clit bring you close to the edge, and you know he can sense it. His mouth leaves your skin with an audible pop, and he looks down at his handiwork with a gleam in his dark eyes. 

“That’s gonna leave a mark.” You press harder against his hand, getting closer and closer to your peak. Slowly, he runs his hand away from your soaked panties and back down your inner thigh, and you let out a dissatisfied grunt. Dropping your hips back down to the mattress, you hum against his ear.

“Not gonna let me cum?” You’re bold, but you don’t care. You catch his lobe in your mouth, running your tongue over it and around his piercings. You hear his sharp intake of breath through clenched teeth, and his hand hovers over your inner thigh. Without warning, he slaps it. Not hard, but hard enough for you to bring your mouth away and yelp softly. He chuckles, nuzzling into your neck a pressing down a kiss. 

“Not yet, baby.” His words vibrate against you, and he lets his teeth graze over your new hickey. Already turning a dark shade of purple, it was very…him. 

He starts kissing his way down your body, making his way to your collarbones before grabbing the end of your jumper and pulling it up your torso. Arching yourself against the bed you lifted your arms up, allowing him to pull the jumper from your body. Beating him to it, you reached under yourself and unclasped your bra, pulling it off your arms and throwing it off somewhere onto the floor. He started down at your breasts, looking mesmerised and hungry. That tantalising smirk returns to his lips, and he wastes no time in latching his lips to your right nipple. Rolling the hard bud around with his tongue, he flicks at it and pulls the other with his hand. They’re erect at his movements, and he runs his tongue over your breast moving down to your stomach. Kissing past your navel, he reaches the line of your panties and breathes out softly against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Hooking his index fingers into the waistband of your panties, you feel the cold of his silver ring against your skin. He pulls the fabric down slowly, and you close your eyes to savour the moment. Slipping them over your feet, you hear them join the rest of the clothes on the wooden floor. Daring to peak your eyes open, you look at Yoongi perched on the edge of the bed, looking directly at your pussy. His mouth was open a little, his eyes hazy, and his breath was long and deep. He glanced up at you, and you started to shut your legs. 

His hands instantly grab your thighs, pushing them back apart. He winks at you, and chuckles lightly at your sudden display of modesty. 

He pushes you further up the bed, and you adjust the pillow under you. Between your legs, Yoongi brings his mouth closer and closer to your wet and waiting cunt. Then, he licks you. 

The wetness of his tongue brushing against your clit softly brings a moan up through your lips, and you press against him a little harder. He obliges, softly licking longer strokes until he’s passing over your hole with each one. Sucking on your clit, he brushes a finger against your opening, holding your right thigh back with his other hand. He starts to suck harder, and you mewl in pleasure at the feeling spreading from your lower half. 

He slips one, long finger in, reaching his knuckle then curling up inside you. As he swipes your g-spot, you grip the white sheet hard in your fists. Arching your back, you push your pussy closer to him, begging him to give you what you need. The bastard grins before sucking hard, so hard you clit sends shockwaves through your body at the sensation. Locking your thighs around his head, you start to pant and let out a whispered curse as you feel yourself reaching towards your climax. 

He slips another long finger in, stretching you a little as you realise how much you’ve missed the feeling of sex. And this was already the best fucking sex you’d ever had. 

Slamming and curling his fingers inside you, Yoongi sucks relentlessly against your swollen clit. Like a champagne cork popping from a cold, fresh bottle into the air, you cum hard around his fingers. Pushing back against the sheet, you can’t stop the heavy flow of moans that leave your mouth as he continues to suck you gently through your orgasm. Curling your toes, your eyes roll back a little as you let it completely take over your whole body. Every inch of you feel intense, electric, dangerous. 

As you come down from your high, he pulls his lips from your pussy and withdraws his fingers. You feel empty without them, but exhausted from the experience. Looking at him, you see your juices glistening wetly around his mouth and on his chin, Swiping with the back of his hand, he wipes it off, giving you a cheeky grin and looking down at you heatedly. 

“Get on your hands and knees.” His voice is breathless but commanding, sultry-sounding to your ears. His black jeans are tight, his cock obviously swelling against the rough material. Seeing you staring, he cocks his head to the side with a smile. 

Without a word, he slowly undoes the top button of the jeans. The zipper follows, the noise crisp in the air. Your breathing is still heavy, and you lick your lips at the sight of his bulging cock pressing against his black Calvins. He slips the jeans down first, and they pool down at his knees. Then, he teases you with a knowing look and he tugs down his underwear, his dick bouncing out. Holy. Shit. 

Remembering his order, you flipped yourself onto all fours, pushing a pillow under your elbows. Feeling nothing, you look back over your shoulder at Yoongi. He’s pulling his wallet out from the back pocket of his jeans, fishing a condom out of one of the compartments. Wishin a couple of heartbeats he chucks the wallet to the floor, ripping open the foiled packet. Staring, you felt yourself get even more turned on at the sight of him rolling it down his length, all the way to the base. Seeing you watching, he moved forward and grabbed your hips roughly, jolting you back. He slapped your ass, lightly. 

“Can I slap your ass hard?” The question is new to you, something you’ve never really done with your exes. Without hesitating or thinking, you agree. You want it. You want it so fucking badly. 

The slap to your ass stings, and you cry out a little but bounce back towards his cock. You hear the soft murmur of “fuck” escape his lips, and he smacks you again. This time is harder, enough to bring tears to the corners of your eyes. As if knowing this is enough, Yoongi runs himself along your soaked slit, making sure to rub over your abused clit. Grabbing the pillow hard, you push back against him in a desperate attempt to have him finally fill you. 

Grabbing your ass cheeks and squeezing hard, he pulls your body back and buries himself in your pussy. Slamming in all the way to the hilt, you both exclaim loudly at the explicit feeling. You moan sensually, while he grunts deeply. He doesn’t take more than a second, knowing you can handle it, before he’s slamming in and out of you hard. The slapping sound of your bodies meeting fills the studio, matching your moans with each harsh thrust. Gripping your hips, his fingers dig into your flesh as you bounce against him. 

“Holy…fuck” you manage to gasp out, your eyelids fluttering at the feelings rushing from your core. He takes a hand from your hip and grabs a handful of your hair instead, pulling you even further back. His pulling is light, and doesn’t hurt your skull, but it’s enough to encourage you to move back harder. 

“I’m gonna fucking cum.” His words are said through gritted teeth, and you realise you’re closer to your second orgasm than you thought. Whispering “me too” into the thick air, you feel him drop your hair as he brings his hand down on your ass, slapping it harder than the previous ones. The mix of pleasure and pain brings you right over the edge, without him needing to even brush against your clit. Clenching around him, you cum, screaming your release. He reaches under you and grabs a handful of your tit as he finishes, banging in and out of your trembling pussy as it clenches him tight. He starts to slow as he rides out the end of his own orgasm, breathing heavily. His long breaths continue as he pulls out of you, hopping off the end of the bed. You feel a tinge of sadness at the loss, almost wanting him to have stayed in you; even if only for a few more minutes. Collapsing against the bed, you flip over exhaustedly and prop yourself up on your elbows. He pulls the condom off, scrunching his nose up at the feeling. You hold back a giggle at the his sigh of annoyance towards the rubbery mess. Throwing it in the bin, he makes his way back to the bed, watching you with a fondness you assumed could be accounted to the satisfying sex you’d just had. He rummaged through the clothes on the floor, bringing up your jumper and his underwear. Sliding them back on, he tosses you your jumper. 

“Just in case you didn’t feel comfortable staying naked.” He gives you a crooked smile and you return it, pulling the warm jumper back over your skin. You feel sore, your pussy stretched and your butt burning a little from his punishing slaps. You feel good, really fucking good. 

He crawls up into the bed, lying next to you on one of the extra pillows. You both slip under the sheet without a word, facing each other in the soft glow of grey floating in through the window. 

“It’s still pouring rain.” You say, hearing the drops falling outside in a calming torrent. 

“It is.” he says, smiling at you with softer, less harsh eyes. 

“Tell me more about yourself, Y/N.” Smiling and rolling your eyes at his predictable request, you snuggled deeper into the blanket, still facing him. 

__

Looking at the girl he had just fucked, with her messy hair, her jumper slipping off her shoulder, the blanket tousled around her body, and her head resting into the soft pillow while she told him about her frustrating housemate and workmate, Yoongi could only muster up three words to sum up his state of mind. 

Holy. Fucking. Shit. 

[antihero-writings]

The Things We Say Aloud—Pandora Hearts Fic for Phmonth18 Rainsworth Trio Week—Prompt 2: Family (Full Fic)

Fic Title: The Things We Say Aloud

Fic Synopsis: The Rainsworth Trio has a tradition of midnight snowball fights. But what if this is Break’s last?

Notes: This is another fic I wrote last Christmas (for the prompt “Rain”), but I think will work well for Phmonth18. I think it works best for the Rainsworth Trio Prompt 2: Family. You don’t have to have read the previous Christmas fic to understand it, but they are supposed to take place in the same year, and there are a few connections/references between them. (The other one is called “In Plain Sight” and you can read it on this blog, and/or at I_prefer_the_term_antihero ‘s Ao3!)

Out of all the PH fics I’ve written so far, this is honestly probably my favorite. I would deeply appreciate it if you commented to let me know you enjoyed it!

I feel like the Rainsworth Trio–especially Sharon and Break–don’t really talk about Break’s death, even though they know it’s coming. I thought it would be interesting to explore how such a conversation would go, and almost made myself cry writing it!

Also, point of interest, a song that I think works really well for the section of this fic where Break is pondering if it will be his last Christmas is “Into the Open Air” from the Brave soundtrack.

P.S. This is a repost of an old fic!

Fic:

Rain pounded its tune on the roof. It was the kind of rain that swarms the air, making it misty, grey, and cold with the buzzing of a thousand tiny drops.

It wasn’t that he disliked the rain. There will always be something about the rain that’s soothing to people dealing with sorrow. But rain like this; that pounds, and pounds, and doesn’t dissipate, sometimes serves to extend the mistiness inside too. Though it could be a rest, a relief, people like him always pray for the sun to come back. For sunny days and summer light were something people like him, with red eyes, and a past full of sin, knew they didn’t deserve, but couldn’t help seeking all the same.

Xerxes Break walked through the hallway of the Rainsworth manor. He wore his turquoise and gold outfit, half of his white hair falling across his shoulder, the other, shorter side, messily added to the covering the bandages provided—bandages over the place where his left eye should have been, though it rarely bled anymore.

As he passed by one of the rooms, he saw Sharon. She looked so small, but so regal, sitting on the windowsill, with her back to the glass, now frosted with condensation. Her chestnut hair was pulled back with a ribbon, and she was wearing her little pink dress. The little girl was pouting, staring at the ground, her arms folded over her chest in the characteristic expression children wear when they don’t get their way.

He paused, resting his hand on the doorframe.

She lifted her head.

When she met his eyes, he remembered very quickly that was not in his skill set to comfort little girls.

When he glanced back, she was giving him a look that said Well? Aren’t you going to come comfort me?

He knew better than to disobey such a look. He took a deep breath and walked in, hopping up on the windowsill next to her.

Like the rain, it wasn’t that he disliked kids, he just didn’t know how to deal with them. When they cried and threw tantrums…in short, he didn’t know how to deal with emotion (well, strong ones anyways). He couldn’t help hoping that kids like her could stay happy, and innocent forever. Like he had hoped for his young mistress from another time, and seen it go so very wrong, then later heard, through his own interference, that he had made it go far worse. But children would have to get hurt, they would have to grow up, some day. And in turn, they would become the kinds of creatures who hurt, and caused pain, who even killed, and made excuses for it…creatures like himself.

Luckily, he found that Sharon was a much happier, much kinder, much stronger child than most.

When she didn’t speak—(he didn’t dare ask, for fear of making it worse)—he turned to look outside the window.

“Xerx-niisan,” she began at last, “Why is the sky crying?”

He turned back to her, raising an eyebrow. “Huh?”

They weren’t siblings; they weren’t even remotely related. But for some reason, the name fixed itself in her mouth, and nothing he did or said could change that.

She could be a little tyrant sometimes.

At his misunderstanding, she continued to pout, averting her eyes. Then she jerked back to look at him, (he flinched a little), and said in a high pitched voice, “It’s almost Christmas! Why is it raining? It should be snowing!”

“Oh,” he relaxed a little, contemplating his response, “Well…it’s not going to stop raining just because you want it to. Sometimes,” he gave a sardonic smile that was more painful than the frown that seemed fixed on his face, looking away into the rain, as if he would find answers reading the drops, “things…people…that should be happy, just can’t be. And no matter how much you want something…”

He trailed off, and when he turned back, he saw tears welling in her eyes.

Nice going, Xerxes, you barely have to open your mouth to make a little girl cry.

There they were, brimming to the surface: all those emotions he didn’t know what to do with. He could only sit there, waiting for her own brand of rain to start, wanting more than anything to escape, to not have to figure out the right words to fix her.

It was the crying he hated the most. Maybe it was because it reminded him too much of a certain day, long ago, of a certain girl…but the snow did fall that day…

Still, he wasn’t going to tell her that if she just wished hard enough, if she believed in hope, the-general-goodness-of-the-world-and-its-inhabitants, and maybe a little bit of magic, that the snow would fall, that she could change things. Wishes were dangerous things, and he didn’t suggest anyone make them. You never know who, or what, might be listening.

Fortunately, before the tears reached her cheeks, Sharon’s mother, Shelly Rainsworth, appeared at the doorway. She looked almost exactly like an older version of her daughter, the same chestnut hair, the same smile that shined with a light of its own.

Upon seeing the tearful look on her daughter’s face, she marched into the room, put her hands on her hips, and turned to Break.

“Xerxes,” she said his name like he really was Sharon’s brother, “what did you say to her?”

“Why do you assume it was my fault, Shelly-sama?” he muttered, sounding like the child she was calling out.

“Let’s just say you have a habit of stepping on people’s feelings.”

He sighed. “I was only telling her that it won’t start snowing simply because she wants it to.”

“It’s almost Christmas, mother!” Sharon said like she was pleading her case, the tears reappearing in her eyes.

Shelly smiled, shaking her head.

“What am I going to do with you two?” she crouched down in front of Sharon, and paused, contemplating her own question for a moment. “Tell you what, sweetie; I can’t promise it’ll start snowing because you want it to, but I can promise this:” she pushed her daughter’s tears away, “The moment it starts snowing—or, I suppose,” she interrupted herself, “the moment there’s enough snow on the ground, but no later!—we’ll go outside, and have a snowball fight. How does that sound?”

“Really?” Sharon raised her head, the sadness lifting a little.

“Even if I’m busy, or it starts snowing in the middle of the night,” Shelly elaborated, grinning, “No, especially, if it’s in the middle of the night,” she placed a finger on Sharon’s nose, at which the little girl giggled, “I’ll wake you up—or you me—then, while everyone else is asleep, we’ll run around the house in just our pajamas and coats, we’ll wake Xerxes—”

“What?!” Break blurted out.

“Yes, we’ll wake Xerxes,” she repeated smirking, “drag him outside—”

“Do I get a say in this?!”

“Nope,” she grinned mischievously, “Don’t think I’m letting you get out of this one.”

“Tch.” He looked away.

She walked calmly to the couch, picked up one of the pillows, as if she was going to fluff it, brought it over to them, and smacked him with it.

He growled, his red eye starting to blaze, like some caged beast.

She threw the pillow back onto the couch, sighing, saying seriously, “I don’t want you sitting here on this windowsill forever…I know, somewhere inside you, there’s someone…” she pondered it, then smiled, saying simply, “Someone who’s not afraid. You’re stronger than you think. Deep down, I think, these sorts of things that seem childish, like snowball fights, and tea-parties,” she smirked, “fun things, you actually enjoy.”

He looked away, as if knowing he could only disappoint her.

She added softly, placing a finger on his chin, making him look at her,

“We’ll see that smile someday, Xerxes Break.”

He stared at her as she took her fingers away, then he blinked, averting his eyes again. murmuring something about, “Really, Shelly-sama…I’d just ruin—”

“Sharon,” Shelly interrupted his mutterings, turning to her daughter, “Do you think Xerxes should sit here sulking, day in and day out, or do you think he should join our snowball fight?”

“Xerx-niisan should come with us!” she didn’t even take a breath before she answered.

He stared into the little girl’s eyes, so full of hope, no question, no hesitation, just…kindness, endless kindness.

Shelly smiled at her daughter, which turned into devious smirk when she looked at him.

“Checkmate.”

He bit his lip before jumping back down to the ground, muttering incoherently his displeasure, knowing once they were set, he couldn’t change their minds.

They could be tyrants sometimes.

Most people wouldn’t have gone near him, much less want him to be a part of something…well, fun. He knew what people said about him. It didn’t matter, it had been a long time since he had cared what other people thought, plus, he more than welcomed the lack of company. But, the thing is, he knew they were right; he was creepy, and dark, and very, very dangerous. So, he too, often wondered why they had taken him in, why they treated him like something worth saving, worth dragging out of bed for snowball fights, and tea-parties, rather than being sure, like rest of the world was—like he was—that he would just darken everything with any amount of light in it.

That’s what Children of Misfortune were for, right?

A little girl, who should have been more scared of him than anyone, who should’ve wanted him as far away from her and her snowball fights than anyone, could not only go near him, but fail to hesitate as she bounded up to this dark-and-dangerous man, looked into that blood-red eye, and asked him why the sky was crying, gave him flowers, and called him “brother.”

And that was worth more to him than he would ever dare admit aloud.

*****

It was from nightmares about knights, and blood, little girls, dolls, and names that he never mentioned, that Xerxes Break awoke from.

Breath and heartbeat weighed heavily on his chest. Once the memories faded enough for him to remember that, though it may have been real, it was not now, he gritted his teeth together, slamming his fist into the wall behind him. He didn’t care how much pain was pulsating through his hand.

If only it would take his mind off the throbbing in his empty eye socket.

If he had been a weaker man, perhaps he would have screamed, even cried, perhaps he would have whispered something pitifully to the sheets about not wanting to remember again, not wanting nightmares like this one to show their faces in his head. But he had already made a wish, and these nightmares were its descendants. He didn’t have the authority to dream anymore.

All he had was the anger and regret surging through his body, and nowhere for it to go, except make his past a weapon that shattered him just as much as it did his enemies, into glass shards, and cold bones, and bloodstained roles.

Still, there was some part of him that hoped after so many years they would have stopped haunting him. And sure, maybe it wasn’t every night, but they did come. Perhaps that’s why they call them ghosts; There were too many horrors to be reminded of, too many sins to feel guilty for, too little he could do to fix it, and the nightmares were all too eager for the task. One lifetime was not enough for them to let him forget.

They say ‘there’s no rest for the wicked’, and his mind was often cruel enough to remind him.

When he raised his gaze, he saw that the curtain was open just slightly, and something in the sliver of window flickered.

The Mad Hatter sighed, throwing his legs over the side of the bed.

It was awfully cold.

He stepped up to the window, gently pulling back the curtain, just enough so he could see.

He drew in a breath softly, his eye widening at the view:

It was snowing.

There was enough moonlight to see flakes falling upon the grounds—which were cloaked in white by now.

Like that time years ago, for the whole month, the only thing that fell from the clouds was rain, and finally, the sky decided that Christmas Eve was no time to be laying in bed, sleeping, or else dreaming about past follies.

“Well, Shelly-sama, what do you think?” he spoke softly to the merciful sky, “One last snowball fight?” he paused a moment, turning, leaning against the window, as if waiting for an answer to be whispered in his ear.

He stepped over to his wardrobe, throwing a coat over his pajamas, taking up some winter gloves, putting on socks and boots, and, as always, placing Emily on his shoulder (she wouldn’t want to miss this).

Lighting the candelabra on his nightstand, he ventured into the hallway, making his way toward Sharon’s bedroom.

Opening the door as quietly as he could, he walked in, setting the light on her nightstand.

Sharon was sleeping soundly on her curtained bed, her hair splayed all over the sheets, wrinkled in the night’s sleep, and she hugged her pillow.

He resisted the urge to laugh at her un-proper appearance.

Break sat on the side of her bed, by her head, saying quietly,

“Ojousama.”

She stirred in her sleep, muttering something indecipherable.

He gently ran his hand through her hair, saying louder, “Sharon.”

She blinked open fuchsia eyes to see her servant.

“Break,” she muttered his name softly.

Slowly, she sat up, yawning, looking around.

“Break, what’re you…?” she began, fatigue weighing down her words, then shook it away by shaking her head, “What are you doing in my room?! In the middle of the night! How dare you wake me up!”

He knew what was coming next: she grabbed one of the pillows, and he dodged it before she hit him with it. “Do you think you can just come in here as you please?!”

“Really, Ojousama,” he laughed, standing back up, “You think I’d risk injury without good reason?”

She folded her arms over her chest, pouting. He walked over to the window, throwing open the curtain, standing beside it.

“This better not be one of your pranks, Break,” she muttered, walking over to the window.

“Relax. When have I ever been that cruel?”

She glared at him, as if to say I-could-name-a-few-times, then turned to the window, surveying the landscape outside.

Her aggravated expression broke for widened eyes and a smile.

“Break!” she exclaimed, all grievance forgotten, grabbing his hands and spinning him around, “It’s snowing!!” she let go of him, and jumped up on the bed, repeating, “It’s snowing!! It’s snowing!!”

He smirked, folding his arms over his chest; No matter how old she really was, she still looked like that little kid to him.

“What do you say?” he helped her down from the bed, “One last snowball fight?”

“What are you talking about ‘one last’?” she grabbed the pillow and managed to catch him off guard this time. “You better not be talking about that again!”

She didn’t wait for him to respond as she dropped the pillow and ran over to her wardrobe, found a little coat to throw over her nightshirt, boots, and gloves, then handed him a ribbon to tie her hair back.

“Ready?” he tapped her on the shoulder when he had finished tying her hair.

She nodded, beaming.

They weren’t too far from Reim’s room when Break asked her to hold the candelabra, and stepped down the stairs to the front door.

“Where are you going?” she asked, “Reim’s room is this way.”

“This will only take a moment,” he grinned.

She put her hand on her hip, scowling at him as he ran out the front door. Quickly he returned, with the first snowball in his gloved hand.

“Break! Just what are you intending to do with that?!”

“You’ll see!” said Emily.

Sharon sighed, placing her head in her hand.

Reim stayed at the Rainsworth’s often enough that he had his own room (albeit, not a very fancy one). They quietly entered it to see the servant laying on a bed, much neater than either of theirs, facing away from them. His glasses, and some extra paperwork he just couldn’t leave at work, lay dormant on his nightstand.

Break tiptoed up to his friend, gently pulled back the collar of his shirt, and stuffed a snowball down the back of his shirt.

It was a moment before it took effect, but when it did, Reim skyrocketed out of bed, dancing around, until the snow fell onto the floor.

Break could barely contain his laughter.

He rested his hands on his knees panting. When he regained his bearings enough to figure out what had just happened, and saw Break laughing, he shouted,

“XERXES, YOU BASTARD!!”

Reim lunged at Break, at which the older man only needed to step out of the way, to make Reim trip onto the floor.

“Yes, a tired Reim-san, without his glasses, is definitely a match for me,” he remarked, leaning over him,

“A normal Reim-san isn’t exactly a match either!” Emily squeaked.

“Now, now Emily,” Break chided his doll playfully, “we mustn’t rub this sort of thing in people’s faces.”

“I’m gonna kill you,” Reim’s voice was muffled by the floor

Break laughed, “Is that so?”

“All in good fun!” Emily chirped.

“It’s not fun for me!” he retorted, sitting up, “How can your idea of fun be tormenting your best friend!” Reim got up off the floor and sat on his bed.

“Come now, Reim-san, ‘torment’ is a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“I meant what I said! I mean, who in their right mind thinks a good way to wake their friend up is to stuff freezing-cold snow—”

He interrupted himself, looking at each of them with question in his eyes. He repeated the word, “Snow…?”

Sharon and Break grinned at each other.

Break helped his friend up, saying, “And whoever said I was in my right mind? Didn’t you know? All the best people are mad.”

Reim rolled his eyes.

Sharon and Break stepped up to the window to unveil the answer to his question. Reim followed to inspect the view outside.

Then he looked at each of them, shaking his head and smiling. “Really, you two, after all these years…”

He trailed off, going over to his wardrobe to put on the winter clothes he kept there.

They barely had time to blow out the candles before Sharon grabbed both their hands and dragged them out into the moonlit hall.

They were like little kids trying to get a peek at Santa; bumbling down the hall, almost falling over each other, shushing each other, as they made their way through the manor, down the stairs, out the front door, into the cold grounds.

Even with their winter clothing, the cold still crept in. The snow muffled ordinary sounds, falling seamlessly, sparks of scattered moonlight gleaming off the flakes.

“So, we’ll—” Reim was interrupted by Break throwing a snowball at the back of his head.

“Oy! I was talking!” he whirled around.

“What’s there to talk about, Reim-san?” Break tossed another snowball up and down in his hand.

“I was simply—”

This time it was Sharon who threw the snowball at his face.

“Nice shot, Ojousama,” Break mentioned.

“Thank you,” she grinned, “You’re next, Xerx-niisan.”

“Alright, you two are going down,” Reim challenged.

“That’s more like,” Break smirked.

It didn’t make sense that three adults could have so much fun doing something so childish as playing in the snow. But between exploding snow and shouting, their laughter was what radiated like light from the scene. Maybe they forgot they weren’t children, they forgot that they had grown up things to do, responsibilities to attend to, and that the world was really comprised of blood and pain, and worthless names, not innocence and friendship.

The mad tea party, forever trapped in a moment, forgotten by time.

It was a while later when another voice broke through:

“Hey, what are you guys doing?”

They paused, turning to see Oz at one of the balconies.

“Our humblest apologies, Oz-sama!” Reim shouted back, bowing low, “We didn’t intend to be so loud!”

“No worries!” he yawned, “Are you…having a snowball fight?”

“That’s right, Oz-kun,” Break answered, “Would you like to join us?”

“Really?! You’ll let me?!”

“Sure,” he tossed a snowball up and down in his hand again, “but we certainly won’t be going easy on you!”

Oz beamed. “Hang on a sec! Lemme grab Gil and Alice!”

Not long afterwards, they heard the all-too-familiar sounds of Gilbert and Alice shouting, and they their annoyed faces appeared on the balcony.

“Why are you three having a snowball fight at 6:00 in the morning!” Gilbert yelled down to them.

“Oh? You scared you didn’t make the cut?” Break taunted . “Clown! Is this your doing?!” Alice demanded, “I’ll come down there and make you pay for waking me up!”

As Break spoke to them, Reim saw it as an opportunity to get his own revenge, and snuck up behind him. Break, of course, still heard him coming and, once again, tripped him, as he got close.

Break walked around him in a circle, grinning shaking his head, “You’re going to have to try harder than that to beat me.”

Reim gave an expression akin to Gilbert’s evil eye.

Break kicked some snow onto his head as he walked by, just to rub it his face (quite literally).

Oz, Gilbert, and Alice tumbled down the front steps, already laughing and yelling at each other before they even joined the fight.

“Well look who it is,” Break taunted, leaning over them, then Emily continued,

“The dumb bunny, the spoiled brat, and—” he didn’t get to finish, because the two lunged at him.

There weren’t really any teams, or way of keeping score—it was everyone against everyone else, though each of them had their own approach: Gilbert had a more meticulous method; creating a stash of snowballs, and walls to hide behind, (often getting hit in the building process). Oz was would sneak up on people, and took particular pleasure in knocking down, or stealing, Gil’s hard work, while Alice ran around pelting everyone in sight, holding a particular grudge against anyone who landed a hit on her (who were mostly Break and Oz).

Near the end of their fight, as Break snuck up on Sharon, just about to land a hit on her, he found himself falling, and was then somehow on the other side of the yard,

He paused to regain his bearings, and stood back up to his full height, quickly discerning what had happened.

“Is that really fair, Ojousama?” he called across the yard, knowing she had used her Chain.

She chuckled like it was a trivial offense, “Since when have you cared what’s fair Xerx-niisan?”

Well, she got me there.

It was at this moment he felt a rush of cold! against his neck, and tensed, resisting the urge to spill some choice words. He spun around to see that Reim had been waiting behind a nearby tree and, as he addressed his mistress, Reim had managed to get the perfect revenge.

Break pulled back his shirt to make sure the snow fell, scowling at his friend.

“Say it,” Reim folded his arms over his chest.

“What? That you got me?”

Reim’s expression was unmoving.

“I’ll say nothing of the sort, Reim-san,” he flicked his glasses, “After all, you merely copied me. You should be more creative next time.”

Reim’s fingers curled into fists, practically growling at him.

“I didn’t know we could use Chains!” Oz called, running up to them, having noticed Sharon’s expert use of Eques, (but not the following exchange between Break and Reim.)

“Seaweed-head! Release my limiter!” Alice shouted when she heard, “I want to smash the clowny bastard to smithereens!”

“Is that so?” Break called, “You really want to go down that path, Alice-kun?” Break smirked evilly, “My Mad Hatter would destroy you before Gilbert-kun even had the chance.”

“You wanna go, clown!” Alice hollered, and Gilbert had to hold her back to keep her from rushing at him with teeth and claws.

Reim looked worried, and Oz—wearing a similar expression—spoke in hushed tones, “No, Alice! You don’t want to go up against his Mad Hatter!”

“Try me, Manservant!”

“Break! No one wants to see you killing yourself over some stupid fight with some little girl!” Gilbert scolded.

“Oy! Who you callin’ ‘some little girl’?!” Alice snapped at Gilbert.

That seemed to return Reim to his senses,

“That’s right!” Reim scolded, “What did I tell you about being reckless with your powers?!”

“Always so tense, you two,” he walked up to Alice and ruffled her hair, “I’m only teasing.”

Alice broke free, and the fight resumed, though the others were glad to see neither managed to draw blood, and that it quickly returned to the antics of the snowy game.

And for one brief moment, Break forgot about everything else. About the nightmares, the regrets, and the answers he clung to so desperately as a reason to keep himself from falling further. And for one moment, he could see those flickering lights behind dark eyes, and he was happy he could feel the cold biting his skin, he was happy he could see their faces—rosy-cheeked, all smiles and laughs, even if they were yelling at him—for one precious flicker of a moment, he was happy to be alive.

That moment would end. The shadows would crawl back from the corners of his mind, the smiles would become fake again, the world would become a wax museum of happiness. Reasons that were just that, empty reasons; desire had left them behind in an alleyway long ago, for better, darker wishes. The pain would come back, and once again he’d convince himself, I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care about them. About what happens to me. The snow white chaos would return to tears too fast. But in this moment, it was okay. He was okay.

Sharon and Reim ran at him, but instead of getting out of the way, this time he let them bowl him over, the three of them collapsing in the snow.

Shock flitted across their faces, which broke for smiles.

He wanted to say he was sorry. He wanted to tell them over and over I love you both so very much. But he wasn’t the only one who knew that those words falling from Xerxes Break’s lips was all too close to admitting defeat. Because if he admitted he cared, then he wouldn’t be able to let them go when the end came. And he knew it would come all too soon. His lips wouldn’t dare betray him with such miserable words.

So they settled for a smile.

His real smile. Not the smirks and grins he gave away at a moment’s notice. The smile that was barely perceptible, but which, for them, captured within its folds more sunlight than anything else in their world.

Sharon and Reim glanced at each other, then smiled back at him, deciding not to sully the moment with words.

And, as soon as it came, the true smile was replaced with a smirk.

“You two really are gullible,” he put snow in their hair.

They jumped up, shouting his name, trying to rub it out, then quickly ran after him.

He couldn’t tell them the truth. He couldn’t tell them that he was thinking how this might be his last Christmas. He couldn’t tell them how he was wondering if they would still put his stocking on the mantelpiece when he was gone.

He didn’t get a chance to anyways, because it wasn’t long afterwards when beads of citrus and crimson light began tracing the navy sky.

They paused, panting, raising their eyes to look into the sunrise.

For a moment they stared silently at the art the morning made of daybreak, gentle smiles tracing their lips at the beauty.

Then Oz broke in, exclaiming,

“Merry Christmas, everyone!”

“Merry Christmas!” they answered, a little tiredly.

“What do you guys think?” Reim asked, “Ready to go inside?”

“Aww, but we were having so much fun!” Oz protested, trying to mask the fatigue in his voice.

“Easy for you to say, we’re exhausted!”

“To be fair, we were out here much longer than them,” Break panted, realizing just how tired he was. “Perhaps I have gotten old after all. If you youngin’s want to go on—” he flapped a shirt sleeve their direction.

“There he goes again calling himself old!”

Sharon broke in, “Don’t you want to open presents?”

“Presents?!” Oz repeated, like a dog who had seen a squirrel, glancing at Gilbert and Alice, his grin widening.

They began to make their way inside, still laughing and talking about the plays they each had made, and how they would eventually get each other back. As they walked back, instead of joining the conversation, Sharon gently tugged on the corner of Break’s coat, holding him back.

He turned to see that instead of the tired, but joy-full smile that had traced her face moments earlier, she was hanging her head low.

“Ojousama?” he asked worriedly, crouching down beside her, seeing tears begin to grace her cheeks.

The others noticed, and stopped too.

“Xerxes! What did you do?!” Reim demanded.

“Yeah, Break! How dare you make a girl cry on Christmas?!” Oz questioned, running up to her.

He rolled his eyes at them.

“I’m fine, everyone,” Sharon reassured them, giving a somewhat plastered smile, “I’ll just be a moment.”

They all glanced at each other, knowing something was clearly wrong.

“Are you sure?” Gilbert asked.

“Yeah, Sharon-chan, if you need something—”

“Yes. Please, go inside. Break and I will catch up with you.”

They glanced at each other.

“Alright, Sharon-chan. Just let us know if you need anything, okay?” Oz put a hand on her shoulder.

“Thank you, Oz-sama,” she smiled.

The others gave similar smiles back to her, then they gave Break a collective you-better-not-make-this-worse look before walking up the stairs into the manor.

“Sharon?” he asked softly.

No matter how many years went by, he still couldn’t handle the sight of a child in tears.

“Xerx-niisan,” he could tell she was fighting back against the tears, “What if… What if this is your last Christmas?”

He gasped; he didn’t expect her to be thinking about the same thing.

“What if…” she continued, breath taut, “What if we never get to have another snowball fight? What if…?”

“Well,” he rubbed his neck, looking away, “you and Reim can still—”

“Don’t act like everything will be the same when you’re gone!” she threw snow into his face.

He fell back onto his elbows, gently brushing it out of his hair. After a moment a laugh bubbled in his throat, and he put his hand on his face.

“What’s so funny?!” she demanded, scowling.

Obviously that was the wrong thing to do.

If only she had chosen someone else to comfort her; someone like Oz, who could read the situation, and chose his words carefully. Or Gilbert, who was sensitive enough to understand. Even Reim would be better, despite his rather unemotional, straightforward nature. But she had chosen him.

“It’s funny…to tell you the truth,” his voice became more serious, “It’s just…I was thinking about the same thing.”

Shock added to the concoction of hurt and yearning in her eyes.

“Y-You were?”

He looked at the ground and nodded ever so slightly.

“How dare you laugh at that?” she balled a fist in the snow, but the strength seemed to leave her.

She shook her head, tears fluttering back to her eyes, “You can’t…Xerx-niisan, you can’t! I…I don’t want to be alone!” she put her arms around him and fell onto him.

His eye was wide, his breath harsh and cold as he looked at the girl in his arms, forgetting for a less than a moment that she was not that little girl in a darkened room, surrounded by coffins.

He shook his head of the memory.

“You won’t be alone, you’ll have Reim, and Sheryl-sama, and—”

She lifted her head to scowl at him, as if to say must-I-repeat-what-I-said and he cleared his throat, changing his method of attack.

“Well, I won’t go down easy, that’s for sure. But, despite how it might seem,” he gently ran his finger along her cheek, giving that sad but true smile, and whispered, “I am not that strong.”

“You think you can talking about you dying all the time and I’ll just—?!” she tried to fight back, to be angry, but her words fell like the snow, and she murmured again, she let her head fall back onto his shoulder, and whispered back, “Xerx-niisan…”

He gently wrapped his own arms around her.

“I want to be there for you…” she murmured, “I don’t want you to do something stupid…You’re always running into fights without a second thought…” she sobbed for a moment before saying, “Maybe we could…maybe we could stop it? I-I could go into the fights with Eques…Oz-sama and Gilbert-sama—”

He pressed a kiss into her hair, and as she lifted her head off his shoulder to look at him with the wide and teary eyes of her younger self. The look in his eyes was enough to say I’m sorry, Sharon.

“It’s just like I told you, Ojousama,” he ran his fingers through her hair, and murmured into her ear, “No matter how much I may want it to, I can’t stop it from raining.”

She lifted her head off his shoulder to look at him.

“No matter how much we might want it to, we can make the snow fall. Our wishes can’t change things. Even if…” his words were blown by the wind into the stars.

She shook her head gently, murmuring that name.

“Just promise me you won’t make any illegal contracts to bring me back,” he laughed a little, which turned into a grimace, and she knew just how serious he was being.

She smiled for the first time since the conversation started. “I promise.”

For a moment they sat there, together, in a sort of limbo, watching as the sunrise turned into a light blue sky—a present sorrow caught between the earlier joy, wondering which emotion of the two would soon come. Moments were so finicky.

“I can’t promise I’ll have another Christmas, but we still have today. Let’s not waste it with talking about depressing things.”

She nodded, smiling.

He gently reached down and picked her up.

“Xerx-niisan!” she protested at first.

He touched her nose with his finger.

After a moment, as he took her inside, she rested her head against him sleepily, murmuring, “Xerx-niisan, I don’t want…I don’t want you to pretend you’re okay for my sake.”

His eye widened and he jerked his head to look at her.

“Don’t give me that look,” she responded, “I know you do it. You think I can’t handle it.”

He took a deep breath, “I’m fine, Ojousama,” he murmured, and smiled, “It’s Christmas, after all.”

She shook her head, “No you’re not!”

Once again he kissed her head gave her his real smile, “No, really, Sharon. I am. At least for today.”

The smile she returned was real too.

And that was worth far more to them than either of them needed to say aloud.

[artificialqueens]

Twist Of Fate - Ch11 - (Trixya) - katyahzamo

A/N: Here we are folks, the penultimate chapter of this fic! Things are slowly falling into place with these two and I can’t believe it’s been three months since I started writing it. Thank you everyone, for your continuous support and lovely feedback!

A reminder: Trixie is a hairdresser and Katya is a struggling photographer slash yoga instructor. Lesbian AU. Read the chapters on AO3 and/or come hang out on my tumblr katyahzamo. Comments are welcome and encouraged!

Katya wakes up sometime around eight in the morning the next day, with sweat on her upper lip and on the back of her neck. The air is stuffy in her bedroom, and only when her eyes open does she remember that she’s forgotten to leave the window open before falling asleep.

Additional source of heat is the pile of blonde curls spread across her bare chest, with an arm and a leg hugging her close as Trixie Mattel sleeps peacefully snuggled up to her. Katya can barely feel her arm that got trapped under Trixie sometime through the night, and there is a certain soreness in her thighs that reminds her it’s been a while since she’s had sex… or done strenuous yoga for that matter. Still, she has a large smile on her face as her fingers trail through blonde hair splayed across her collarbone, feeling her heart speed up at the mere thought of the last night’s events.

Seeing Trixie naked, getting to kiss every single inch of her soft skin… it was better than any fantasy Katya’s imagination could have conjured up in many lonely nights when she thought about it. Trixie was both gentle and teasing, and heat pools in the bottom of Katya’s stomach as she remembers Trixie between her legs, eating her out like it’s the last thing she’s going to do. Her thighs squeeze when she recalls the sounds that Trixie made as they fucked, as she made Katya come, over and over again, until they fell asleep snuggled together, too tired to move a muscle or put any clothes on.

Katya is pulled back to the present when Trixie snorts in her sleep and it almost makes her laugh out loud, but she remains silent when she slowly untangles their limbs and slips off the bed, in desperate need of a shower, a cigarette and some food.

Trixie doesn’t wake up until two hours later, to Katya’s great delight, since she has plenty of time to run to a convenience store right across the street, buying some toast, eggs, maple syrup and a pancake mix which she prepares quietly in her narrow kitchen that she barely ever uses for herself in the morning.

It seems that it’s the smell of French toast, eggs and bacon that rouse Trixie from her slumber, and she’s standing in the doorway, in one of Katya’s shirts no less, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and a bright smile on her face. It makes Katya’s heart jump violently and then drops to her ass. The shirt strains a little over her chest, but reaches her thighs nevertheless. She looks sexy as all hell.

“Morning.”

“Good morning, birthday girl. How did you sleep?”

“Mmm really good, but I think I fully didn’t move all night. Everything hurts.”

There is a little pout on Trixie’s lips, that playful one that Katya has seen so many times in the last twenty-four hours, and it is hard to breathe for a moment before she flips the pancake.

“Maybe you can do some yoga with me later?”

“Hard pass. I’d rather do something else.”

Katya turns her head, and Trixie is there, leaning her hip against the counter, her eyes big, and brown, and staring at Katya’s mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm.”

A second later she hops on the counter to sit there and gets a toast and nibbles on it, watching Katya who puts the last pancake on the plate, turns off the stove and comes in front of her. Trixie’s knees part instinctively and Katya settles between her thighs.

“This is really good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I usually don’t eat white bread that much but I was starving.”

“I also made you pancakes and bought a little candle so you can blow on it. Even though you don’t celebrate your birthday-”

“Oh I celebrate it.”

Katya, who had her hands resting on Trixie’s bare thighs and was brushing her fingers up and down lazily looked at her with her eyebrows raised.

“But you told me last night you-“

“I did that only so you would finish what you started.”

“Oh my god.”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

Trixie’s wide grin makes Katya cackle, all with head thrown back in delight.

“You’re such a fucking brat.”

“It’s what you signed up for, mama.”

They laugh and Trixie drops the toast back on the plate when Katya leans in to leave kisses under her jaw and down her neck, her eyes closing instinctively and arms wrapping around Katya’s shoulders. She leans up seconds later to capture Trixie’s lips with her own, and before long Trixie has her nails dragging down Katya’s back and Katya desperately digs her fingers into the soft flesh of Trixie’s thighs.

“God you’re so sexy.” Katya’s words are barely a breath she speaks into Trixie’s open mouth, and are greeted with a soft moan before the kiss becomes needier, causing both of them to grind their hips towards the other.

“Trix-“ Katya starts again, but Trixie’s fingers are already trailing down Katya’s abdomen and past the hem of her boxers, finding her wet already. Feeling Trixie’s cold fingers pressing against her clit makes Katya gasp into the kiss, and she adjusts her hips so Trixie can have more access.

It doesn’t take her long before she drops from the counter and on her knees, to Katya’s surprise, in the middle of the tiny kitchen. With Katya’s boxers discarded on a nearby chair and Trixie’s mouth between Katya’s legs, Katya is reduced to a shaky, moaning mess minutes later, barely holding herself upright by leaning back and gripping the countertop with one hand and Trixie’s hair with the other. She comes without much effort and Trixie’s fingers knuckles deep in her pussy, and Trixie playfully kisses her before going for a shower; leaving the Russian disheveled and barely able to put her underwear on and set up the table for breakfast.

“So you know Mrs. Davis, right? Kasha Davis?”

They are sitting on the couch, Trixie’s feet in Katya’s lap and a plate of pancakes in her own. Katya made her blow a single candle she found in one of the drawers and make a wish she then refused to share with Katya. It won’t come true if I do! She said and interrupted Katya’s laugh with a lingering kiss and a hug in a silent thank you. They moved to the couch immediately after and put a movie they weren’t paying attention to, too distracted by kissing and Trixie force-feeding pancakes to Katya, who refused to eat pieces that had maple syrup on it.

“The older, rich lady that comes to Honey? Yeah I know her.”

“Her daughter Jean is having a Sweet Sixteen party in two weeks.”

“Oh god don’t tell me she’s gonna be on MTV or something.”

“How old are you?” Trixie laughs loudly and Katya swats at her ankle playfully. “No, grandma, she won’t be on a show that ended ten years ago, but-“

“It didn’t end! It’s still going!”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah! I’m pretty sure I watched it last week.”

They bicker for a little while longer, until Trixie pulls out her phone from underneath her and stares at the Wikipedia article with her mouth open, and Katya laughing loudly at her.

“I’m right, huh? It’s still airing.”

“Who the hell funds this still?”

“Mrs. Kasha Davis?”

“Right!” Trixie tosses her phone Katya’s way, who catches it and laughs again, doubling down on intensity when Trixie glares at her and then Katya raises her arms up in surrender.

“I’m sorry! Go ahead, what about her daughter?”

Trixie blinks at her pointedly a several times more but then her expression softens when she speaks again.

“Latrice called me while I was still in Wisconsin. Apparently, Mrs. Kasha Davis wants me to do her daughter’s hair. And her daughter’s best friends’ hair. And probably makeup too. There will be like… seven or eight girls there.”

“Trix, that’s great! They’re loaded, they will probably pay well.”

“Right? There’s a problem, though. Maybe one you can help me with?”

Katya tilts her head and can’t help but grin back when Trixie bats her eyelashes again, feeling her heart thump at the sight.

“What do you need?”

“They need a photographer. Apparently there’s a company who organizes these things and they usually send a photographer and a makeup artist in a bundle. And it’s hard for them to find a photographer on their own on such a short notice. So…”

“So if you don’t find a photographer, they will go with the company.”

“Right. I know you’re busy and you’re getting like a thousand jobs offer an hour but…”

“Trix, being booked one week in advance is barely a thousand offers.”

“I know! But you’re so good and all these modeling agencies are fighting for you, and I know teens are not your thing but…”

“I’ll do it.”

Trixie’s eyes widen, and her smile too. Money aside, this sight alone makes Katya think that hanging around teenagers the entire day makes it totally worth it.

“Really?”

“Yeah! I mean, they are loaded and I can probably get a rate as high as I get for weddings so…”

She doesn’t finish the sentence since Trixie has put the pancakes away and is pulling her down towards herself, her soft pink lips covering every inch of Katya’s face, causing her to burst into laughter, over and over again. Doing what she loves to do and with the girl that she’s pretty sure she’s in love with? Who would say no?

The two of them stay on Katya’s couch for the remainder of the morning and early afternoon, cuddling and watching Casablanca that comes on, parting reluctantly only when Trixie says she needs to go into Honey even though it’s her last day of paid leave and it’s her birthday. Since Katya needs to work on engagement photos she’s taken the day before, she lets her go, but not before spending fifteen minutes kissing at the front door and agreeing to see each other that evening for birthday celebration, and the next day, when Katya would pick Trixie up from work and go with her to test out a new lens in the park nearby. As she watches Trixie get into her Uber while she smokes on the window, Katya wonders what she did in her largely miserable life to finally get so lucky.

.

.

.

“No, go back. Details bitch.  Is she a top or a bottom? What does she like? Did you talk kinks yet?”

The connection on Violet’s side is not really the best, and Katya has to squint at her own phone to recognize that the pixelated blur is in fact her best friend, calling her from the other side of the continent, after having blown up her phone when Katya told her Trixie began spending almost every night for the past week.

“Vi, I can barely hear you, what?”

Maybe she is trying to avoid the subject altogether now, at least until Violet is in the same room as her, since sleeping with Trixie is… different. She is not just a tinder hookup or a casual dating thing that Katya had no issues talking about with her best friend in the past, all details included. Now, she is afraid of sharing too much with the universe, fearing that the universe might yet again be a bitch and take it away from her.

Just that morning Trixie left her apartment to go to work, and she woke Katya up by dragging her to the shower and kissing the sleep away from her puffy eyelids, then proceeded to make them both coffee after which they sat by the window as Katya smoked. Trixie’s thumb rubbed her knee as they talked about their plans for the weekend. It has been surreal, more surreal than any other thing that had happened to Katya in the past year. Considering all the changes that she went through, this being the biggest one, it was a lot, and now difficult to put into words.

How can she even begin to describe the happiness she feels to get to spend every single free moment with Trixie when it seemed just like a distant fantasy only a month ago? No words could even begin to come close to describe how beautiful Trixie is, or how funny. How her nose scrunches lightly when she yawns over her cup of coffee in the morning or how she chews thoughtfully and looks into the distance when she thinks Katya isn’t looking. Anything she could say to Violet pales in comparison to the warmth in her chest when Trixie kisses her collarbone and talks sleepily before drifting off and the way her small apartment rings with the sound of Trixie’s absurdly loud laughter. Katya is happy, and it’s a scary thing to even fathom talking about.

“Fine, you don’t have to tell me now. Is it good at least? Is she good?”

The connection clears enough for Violet to see the wide grin on Katya’s face, the crinkles around her eyes visible even through the blurry video.

“She’s the best, Vi. I’ll tell you everything when you get back.”

.

.

.

“So, I want my hair to be wavy, but not too curly. I don’t wanna look basic, you know?”

Katya is barely holding in her laughter as Jean continues chattering on, giving precise instructions on how her hair needs to look like, the funny part being the way Trixie’s eyes are bugging out a little. Katya can see that Trixie is holding in an exasperated huff too, but nods along and keeps saying okay as the girl continues talking.

“And please don’t give Amanda the same hair as mine, she’s been trying to copy me for months.”

“Isn’t Amanda one of your best friends, dear?”

Mrs. Kasha Davis is sitting in the chair next to her daughter, flipping through the menu that the caterers have brought minutes after Katya and Trixie walked through the door of the gigantic mansion where the Davises lived. Her eyes lift up towards her daughter, a perfectly shaped eyebrow quirked.

“Mom, I told you fifteen times already, I have to keep Amanda close because she has the pull with the cheerleaders. But I can’t stand her, all she talks about is Justin Bieber and we all know he’s so 2013.”

Katya cackles at this when her eyes meet Trixie’s, and the girl looks at them in the mirror.

“What? You know I’m right.”

“You sure are.” Katya says amusingly, lifting the camera and adjusting the lens before she snaps a photo of the mother and the daughter, with Trixie fiddling with the scissors in the background.

Both Trixie and Katya woke up at seven in the morning to get everything ready for the Sweet Sixteen party, or at least the part they play in it, since Latrice instructed them both on what Mrs. Davis loves and doesn’t love, and when she saw Trixie getting nervous about her first big gig, encouraged them both that Kasha, despite being a rich white woman, has a kind heart and will tell them if anything is amiss.

They had no issues finding the house in the outskirts of Boston hours later and Katya expected to see swans in their larger-than-life front yard that had a fountain decorated with endless balloons and pink bows. Despite the kitschiness of it all, Katya appreciated how this girl’s parents went above and beyond to make their daughter’s birthday special. Jean, all teenager drama aside, is not as snobby as Katya expects most girls of her class to be, and she spent half an hour discussing photography with her before they sat down for hair and makeup.

Soon after they shit talk Amanda, the head cheerleader walks in with half a dozen of other girls and Trixie sits them all down and gives them catalogues to browse for hair styles they want, while Katya walks around, taking quick photos as girls get ready, of the tables and canopy set in the backyard, of the house and exterior decorations, and finally of Trixie.

The only dress code for the party is to incorporate something pink in their outfit, since that is the main color of the event. Trixie sure looks the part n her baby pink dress, slightly loose around her shoulders and flowy around her legs and reaching down below her knees. Her thick curls are pushed in a ponytail and makeup is as soft as one could imagine it being on a warm September day. She looks like she walked out of Katya’s wildest cotton candy dreams. Katya, in return, sports only a dark pink button up shirt that she matched with the black pantsuit, the jacket tossed aside as soon as they arrived to the house.

Katya feels smug whenever she notices Trixie swallowing every time she looks at her, and remembers how breathlessly she complimented her that morning when she saw Katya get out of the car to kiss her hello in front of Kim’s building when she picked her up.

She sees Trixie looking at her now, a curling iron in her hand and a little smile on her face that Katya snapped a photo of seconds before, and now has the wild urge to go over and kiss her senseless. Instead, Katya walks past her and squeezes Trixie’s hip lightly before she walks out of the spacious, bright-lit room and into the back porch of the house. Some of the guests have begun arriving already, mostly family members including older aunts and uncles. Mrs. Davis has told them that the main event would be after seven, when half of Jean’s school would be coming over for the party, but the afternoon was reserved for the older family members and friends of Mr. and Mrs. Davis.

Katya spends an hour or two walking between the tables, introducing herself to people who want to know her name, and taking photos much to the guests’ delight. Despite having initial reservations for an event like this, Katya realized that older rich white people are a goldmine for photography opportunities, and she has already given out a dozen of her business cards before she sees Trixie on the porch too, drinking something that looks like pink lemonade.

“Almost done?” Katya comes to stand next to her but only after she’s quickly snapped a photo of her, feeling her heart grow ten sizes when she sees Trixie pose playfully.

“Yep. Jean was right, Amanda talks about Bieber more than you talk about your Russian weirdo bands.”

“Hey!” Katya cackles and nudges her with her hip, sending Trixie into giggles too.

“They’re a cool bunch, though. They keep asking me if I can redo their makeup too.”

“How could they not? You’re the incarnation of their favorite Barbie they played with up until two years ago.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“What? I think you look beautiful.”

Trixie’s blush is visible even in the slight shade of the porch and Katya is grinning proudly.

“God, if we made out right here, right now, do you think we’d look unprofessional?”

“Only one way to find out.”

“Katya!”

“What? You think dykes would be too much for the poor old aunt Shirley over there?”

“She’d fully be clutching her pearls.”

“Oh there you two are!”

The voice of Mrs. Davis makes them both jump a little and they turn around, their expressions slightly flushed and guilty. Katya prays she didn’t hear any part of the conversation they just had. But, even if she did, Kasha shows no signs of it.

“Trixie, dear, Jean is absolutely glowing because of your handiwork. You did a marvelous job!”

Trixie grins and Katya’s heart skips several beats. She’s so proud of her.

“I’m glad she’s happy with it. I only have two more girls left and I’ll be done.”

“Beautiful! Katya, we’ve agreed you’ll be staying here until nine, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Mrs. Davis.”

“Please, darlings, call me Kasha. You’re making me feel old.”

All three of them laugh and Katya nods.

“Anyway, I’m here to offer you to stay for the party too, Trixie.”

“Oh you really don’t have to, I-“

“No, nonsense! You can keep Katya company and David ordered too much food for this amount of people. I insist.”

Katya and Trixie look at each other and Katya gives her a non-committal shrug, even though all she wants is to have Trixie around for the entirety of the day. It would definitely make the remainder of the party more bearable.

“Okay, I’ll stay then. Thank you. If you need me to help with anything-“

“No, absolutely not. You can finish up the hair and makeup, and I might ask you to touch up mine later in the afternoon, but the moment you are done you’re a guest like everything else here.”

“Thank you M- Kasha.”

“Oh you’re both welcome. Now if you’ll excuse me, I see my mother-in-law calling.”

Both Trixie and Katya laugh at the eyeroll and the wink Kasha gives them, and watch her trod across the lawn.

“Better go get Amanda ready before she cuts my head off.”

Katya laughs and takes her hand briefly, kissing it.

“Go. I’ll be out here. And bring me one of those lemonades when you’re done.”

The remainder of the afternoon goes by fast, and Katya barely has time to shove some of the food in her mouth while people call her from one side of the lawn or another, wishing her to take photos of them in different poses and with different family members and friends. It’s well past six in the evening and the majority of the adults are already tipsy and ready to dance, so the DJ is already in his spot too, forced to take requests of songs that range from Frank Sinatra to Spice Girls. When five minutes pass without anyone calling out her name, Katya decides to take a bathroom break while she still can, since the only people who like having their photos taken more than middle-aged people are teenagers, and almost a hundred of them are soon to start arriving through the door.

The bathroom offers a welcome silence and Katya feels her head pulsating a little bit, but she has to admit to herself that she is having fun, more so because she knows Trixie is going to join her soon. What makes her the happiest, though, is the fact that Trixie will be coming home with her later and they will get to snuggle on her worn out couch and talk to each other about the day they had.

Just as Katya flushes and goes to wash her hands, there is a brief knock on the bathroom door and Katya calls out that she’ll be out in a second. When she does open the door, she sees Trixie standing on the other side, the look on her face making butterflies in Katya’s stomach dance for the millionth time that day.

“Oh hi.”

“Hello.”

Trixie’s hand pushes her lightly from the door and back into the bathroom again, and follows her in an instant before she closes the door and locks it.

“I’ve missed you the whole damn day.”

“Me too.”

Katya wraps her arms around Trixie’s  waist and Trixie cups both sides of Katya’s face and leans in to kiss her – her soft lingering kisses that Katya returns eagerly, humming contentedly.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you all day.” Trixie mutters into the kiss and Katya kisses her again, and again, and again, until she’s backed into the wall and raking her fingers through Katya’s waves, the feeling of blunt nails against her scalp causing goosebumps on the back of Katya’s neck.

“Did I tell you how hot you are in that fucking suit? Holy shit.”

Katya squeezes Trixie’s waist in response, digging fingers there and grinding against Trixie’s thigh just a little, their mouths inches apart, both of them breathing heavily.

“Do you think it would be unprofessional if I bent you over in our client’s bathroom and fucked you senseless?”

That makes Trixie’s mouth fall open and she kisses Katya softly again, and Katya knows that she’s considering it. They both know it’s a probable thing that would happen if their kisses lasted for more than five seconds.

“Probably. Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe you can do that later tonight when we’re back at your place?”

“Sounds like a solid plan.”

Katya is the first one to rejoin the party, her neck still flushed from how easily worked up Trixie has gotten her, but her dark red lipstick is in place once again and her hair brushed out. There is an ache between her thighs for a while after, especially when Trixie comes to join her soon after with a hand on Katya’s lower back, but knows that they still have a few hours to go.

Taking photos of teenagers is definitely more work, since they ask to see how they look in photos every time they are taken, but they are also ready to go with Katya’s ideas of crazy poses, so Katya finds herself having a lot of fun. Both her and Trixie, who watches the entire thing unfold, are invited into several selfies too an hour into what turned into a photoshoot with the cheerleaders.

It’s well past nine when Katya packs up her camera, and when she comes out to the lawn that is now lit up with hundreds of small lights and with a crowd consisting now mostly of people under twenty, save some of the adults here and there, she finds Trixie surrounded by several girls who keep asking her about the hair products she uses to make her curls be the way that they are. Once Katya reaches them, Jean begs them both to stay a little bit longer to join the dancing since the band has taken over, and Trixie is the first one to give in.

An hour later Trixie and Katya are still on the dance floor, and no one seems to care that they are dancing with each other and not talking with anyone else aside from several older cousins who are there more out of solidarity for their cousin’s birthday wishes more than anything else. When the fast-beat song changes to something slower, Katya pulls Trixie close and Trixie leans her head on Katya’s shoulder as they sway slowly.

“This is like a prom I never got to have.”

Katya pulls her head from where it rested, leaned on top of Trixie’s, in surprise.

“You never went to your prom?”

Trixie rolls her eyes but laughs.

“Of course I went to prom, but I never got to go to one with a girl that I liked.”

Even though Katya knows that Trixie likes her, she’ll never get tired of hearing it.

“Did you go with a guy, then?”

“Yep, Bob. We were the only two out gays in the entire school so no one really wanted to do anything with us.”

“I’m sorry, Trix.”

“It doesn’t matter, we had a lot of fun. And I get to redo it with you now.”

“Does this mean I forgot to buy you flowers and that I’m a horrible girlfriend?”

Trixie lifts her head up to meet Katya’s eyes and only by the expression on her face does she realize what she just said.

“So that’s what you are, huh? My girlfriend?”

Katya grins wider, and kisses the small crease that formed in the corner of Trixie’s eye as her smile grows too.

“Yep.”

“Cool. Then I’ll need those flowers.”

“I’ll get them for you as soon as we get out of here.”

They leave the party shortly after that, and Katya does stop in front of a little flower shop whose owner knows Katya from before, and who gives her a bouquet of lilies that she passes on to Trixie when she gets back in the car.

“Are we having a little Imagine Me and You moment now, Katya?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Imagine Me and You? The best lesbian movie ever made?”

“Never heard of it.”

“And yet you know that Sweet Sixteen is still airing? I’m breaking up with you immediately.”

The ride to Katya’s apartment is full of their bickering and Trixie’s loud laughter, and Katya can’t remember a better day at work in her entire life. A part of her wishes that she and Trixie can do things like this forever. She loves photography, and getting to finally do it for living is a dream come true, but now she wants to share that dream with Trixie. As she watches Trixie kick off her heels and stretch before she joins her on the couch, Katya thinks that it’s probably too early to even bring it up. She knows that Trixie has been planning to leave Honey for a while now, but Katya doesn’t want to put a strain in their very new relationship by proposing something like that. They have time.

An hour later they are still on the couch, their carefully applied lipsticks gone and their clothes discarded on the floor. They barely spoke anything in the hurry to get each other off, the tension between them building for the entire day and released only when Katya fucked Trixie until her thighs shook and then gladly returned the favor. Katya felt so exhausted afterward, especially with Trixie cuddling into her side, both lazy to get up, shower, and go to bed. The silence breaks shortly after, and Katya didn’t notice that Trixie has been chewing on her lip nervously for at least ten minutes before she speaks.

“Katya?”

“Yeah?”

“I have to talk to you about something.”

“Shoot.”

“Remember when I went back to Wisconsin to be with family couple of weeks ago?”

“Yes, of course I remember.”

“I went to see Pearl too.”

The name Pearl, spoken out of nowhere, and in that context, sucks all of the air from Katya’s lungs and suddenly she can’t breathe, so she sits up. Trixie, who was leaned on her, sits up too, bringing the blanket to her chest, suddenly feeling exposed. Katya opens her mouth once, both unsure of what to say and not understanding why this is being brought up now, then closes it. Then finally:

“Okay.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you back then. I wasn’t sure where you and I were going and there never seemed to be a right time. This is also not the right time, but I have to tell you anyway.”

This exact moment not being the right time is an understatement. Katya’s jaw is clamped shut, but all she can do is look at Trixie, and wait. After all, she has no idea what seeing Pearl means in this case, and wants to give Trixie the benefit of the doubt. Shiver passes down her spine, but it has nothing to do with being cold.

“And I know you and I didn’t talk about it at all, but our breakup went really badly, and I was afraid that I hurt her so I – I needed to fix it.”

Met with Katya’s silence, Trixie seems to falter a little bit, but she continues talking.

“So Bob and I went to Chicago and Pearl and I met over lunch and talked about… everything. Nothing happened obviously, I knew I didn’t love her that… way, and I knew I liked you, so I wanted to do the right thing and bring us both closure.”

A part of Katya, that has been under considerable strain and threatening to snap since Trixie started the conversation, loosened up and she let out a small breath. Nothing happened. Yet, there is an irrational part of her that’s still hurt about it. It’s not something she can help.

“Why are you telling me this now? That was almost a month ago.” Her voice too is slightly strained, but Katya tries not to project her insecurities on Trixie. Her insecurities are what ended every single relationship she’s had so far. There weren’t many.

When Katya didn’t snap, something that Trixie apparently expected, the corner of her mouth pulled into a small smile and she shrugged. Despite the rollercoaster of emotions that Katya went within two minutes time, she can’t help but want to hug Trixie when she sees her this way.

“You called me your girlfriend tonight. I was afraid that mentioning Pearl would fuck all of this up, and these past couple of weeks have been the best I’ve had in my life.”

“Mine too.”

Trixie’s face seems to light up at that.

“And tonight you called me your girlfriend and I became aware that I can’t hold this back from you because I don’t want to hide anything from you, Katya. I really, really like you and I want us to work. More than I want anything else.”

“Trixie…”

“So I had to say it. And I see that you’re upset and I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know and not find out from one of our friends or something.”

Katya reaches out and takes Trixie’s hand for the millionth time that day, and pulls her close, meeting in a kiss as she closes the distance between them, and Trixie readily responds.

“Thank you for telling me.” Katya speaks when they pull away, and Trixie leans into her side to snuggle her again.

“Thank god. If we had to fight it would have killed me.”

“How did Pearl take it?”

Trixie lifts her head to see that Katya’s looking at her, and they smile at each other.

“She was surprisingly okay and appreciated that I wanted to clear the air. She’s going on a big world tour and said it was for the best anyway.”

“And you’re okay? You guys were together for a long time.”

“Trust me, Katya, I’ve never been more okay with anything in my life. I have you.”

—–

[extremelyaverageincrediblynormal]

I think its time to update this thing with everything that has been going on. A lot of beautiful things have happened the past 6 months, but when i look back, its a supercut of mental breakdowns and self harm. Surprisingly, i havent seriously thought about killing myself, but I am definitely putting a strain on my mental health, and i dont think i saw the signs until i was 4-5 months deep. until i was at the hospital. until i was crying in my work bathroom every day for 5 days. and even then, i still tried to keep telling myself if i give up, i am mentally weak. i still tell myself that know, as i try to get myself out of this situation. so lets explain the situation. I will try my best to go back to may and bring you up to speed.

I started working at this job... lets call it, the hellpit. I started in February, and they agreed to give me time off in april to go to japan. I was pretty happy about that, but i remember about a month and a half in, i seriously considered quitting, and that seemed early. I was annoyed at the lack of organization with the products we were selling, and the extra stress it put on the front of house employees. The job ITSELF wasnt so bad, it was simple tasks that were sometimes fun. But the customers were the worst. This is a private club, so we see the exact same people every single day, and i work in a half grab&go half diner. And we get treated like we are nothing. most of the time, we dont even get a “hi” or “thank you”, but we are required to smile and be polite, tell the customers to have a nice day. One girl got fired because she didnt smile enough and was kind of a quiet person. oops. But then i got my best friend hired, and i started enjoying my days a bit more. Japan gave me some perspective on life and i was running off that energy for about a month. I was also moving at the end of may so that took most of my focus. I was then asked to work in the poolside snack bar/ actual bar. I was excited, it sounded like a fun, fast-paced environment. I feel dissapointed writing that because I was so wrong. It makes me feel sad.

I would be working closer to the actual manager. Now, there is drama going on with that. there was 2 managers, R and C. R had been there for 13 years, had close relationships with the people in my workplace. she was even sister-in-laws with someone there. And then C comes in, and sees that there is a lot wrong with how the cafe is running. she wasnt totally wrong, but she has a large personality and isnt afraid to shit talk people. she came in and tried to change everything, and I dont know exactly what happened behind the scenes but R left on a 3 month stress leave, came back for 3 weeks and quit. If that doesnt tell you something about what it’s like to work along C, ive got more. 

So this poolside hellbox was usually run by some other managers in the club, but C insisted on running it herself, putting her employees in it, etc. it was going to be the best year the poolside hellbox has ever seen. it was small, but it needed at least 3 people to run properly. Sure, it could be slow on cold days, but on hot days, it was a nightmare if there was only 2 people. Because we had to do everything; open, stock all the food, take orders, make orders, and pass them off, and close. it was truly exhausting and our days were always 9-10 hours, no breaks. She also stopped putting 3 people, brought it down to 2, usually 1. it was incredibly stressful. I tried to talk to her about my concerns, and she completely agreed. so i thought things would change. they did not. after some time, i injured my rotator cuff, and that lasted about a week until my entire back seized up and i had to go to the doctor. i was physically burnt out. and she had to work one of my shifts because i was medically ordered to take a break from work. writing this is making my back hurt.... funny how that works. anyways, i came back and she told me about how HARD of a day she had when she had to be in there for 6 hours. I thought to myself, good, she will finally understand. She never did. put me back in it, working 6 days a week, no tips, no breaks, 9 hours. there was a day where the air quality was so bad that my coworker with asthma expressed how ill the smoke makes him feel and that he cant breath, and she made sure he felt guilty for not telling her before hand. and then when we werent even making money that day, she blamed the people upstairs for not making the call to close it. i cant believe it.

the PSH finally closed for the year, but she wanted one more day to make a bunch of money. So there is another key player here. J. J has the title of supervisor but doesnt always act like it. C expresses how she feels about J often, and shes the only one who has the power to do something about it but does she? No. 

So on this day, C is not at the Bad place, so in any other situation, J would be in charge. But C insisted that I text her and listen to what SHE said. and she said she wanted to open the PSH 2 hours early. J said it was too busy and we needed coverage. I listened to J. The fact that we didnt open 2 hours earlier really upset C. she was so mad at J for making that call, and i was upset that i was put in a position where i had no idea who to listen to. 

So that was the day i decided i couldnt be there next summer. I needed to leave before the PSH opened again. 

And since then, there has been a lot of hostility towards me. I remember C telling me that people might not like me because she likes me, and people dont like her. that should have been my first red flag to get the fuck out. I honestly thought she was a woman of her word, and that sticking with her was the right decision. she made me all these empty promises, like i’ll be getting a raise in September, or that she has big plans for me and my career there, or even that we were getting a company-paid night to reward us for all our hard work. and what has unfolded? nothing. 

since then, it has been a series of bullshit. she comes down, yells at everyone and everything thats wrong, comments on how terrible the communication is, and how this doesnt look right, and how stupid everything is and how no one knows how to do their job, “except for you, this isnt directed towards you.” I have a feeling it may not be IN THAT MOMENT, but im sure it has been directed at me at some point. Shes manipulative, and takes advantage of people for her own personal gain, and completely lacks empathy. If it doesnt affect her, why does she care. If someone cant help her, why does she need them. that is her mentality, and she is a psycho. she wants complete control, but does nothing to change anything. She wants people to do certain things, but never tells them. She is by far, the worst manager i have ever had. not to mention she puts out the schedule thursday night-friday for the upcoming monday. so, yes, 3 days in advance. I feel betrayed, i feel disspointed, i feel burnt out. 

She also made a sarcastic remark about how i could “never disappoint her”, which was the last straw for me. That was the day i decided i need to get out of there. 

So, thats whats been going on at work, but behind the scenes, i have been unraveling. My manager has qualities that remind me of my mother, and not in a positive way. it’s very triggering in a way, and when i feel like i have disappointed her, i have the same feeling i would get when my mother would be disappointed in me. when she is completely unsympathetic to me being burnt out, i remember all the times my mom told me to stop feeling sorry for myself when i would cry. so i deal with daily triggers that i have a hard time shaking. there are also some things that go on in that club that really disturb my core values. I am a caring, inclusive person and these people treat us like dirt. I think most people are used to it, i even feel like im less sensitive to it as time goes by. 

But i have been having mental breakdowns at least once a week. they were worse back in june or july, i remember completely trashing my room, throwing my books around and slamming my book case on the ground, and the colapsing and hyperventalating on the ground until my roommate found me. I remember scratching myself until i bled. I remember running to a park and crying in a field. I remember crying on the bathroom floor naked. I remember not being able to get out of bed. i remember punching a wall so hard i almost broke my fingers. this all happened withing 3 months. and after the big explosions came depression and giving up. I cry in the work bathroom often, i dont care about being on time, i dont care about my job, i dont care about my health or being in pain. i am in a constant fog, im exhausted and angry and i have a beautiful partner who loves me so much and i cant feel any of it, because i think i shut down everything so i can make it through the day. I’ve gained weight, i hate my body again, and i feel stuck. i feel ugly, i feel useless, i feel trapped. i need help. i need help getting out of this. i am so exhausted mentally, i do nothing with my day because im too tired. i am so incredibly miserable, i get those depression headaches every single day. I have a surgery coming up that i am not willing to compromise. maybe ill take some extra days off then? look for a job? rest my mind and prepare to job hunt and grind for a job that i might not hate? maybe i should leave now, go work at starbucks, see if i can get the time. maybe i should find a part time job, but will my manager hate me for it? does she already hate me for it? i just want to survive. i just dont want to get to the point where suicide feels like the only option again. I am not there yet, but its on the horizon, and that’s why i am scared.