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#and this was like SO spontaneous. like I cannot express enough how much I didn’t plan for this
leverage-ot3 · 7 months
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hozier starting to sing take me to church and then unfurling a pride flag healed something in me actually
if you listen closely you can hear me yell ‘oh my god’ when he does it
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rabbitenn · 5 months
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Imagine Toma x emotionless! s/o. Like this man always on the look out for people's faces to see their reactions of him but is dating someone who cannot convey emotions at all. He only know his s/o loves the things he do are from their body languages.
Also, how would the other members think of him dating someone so expressionless?
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RESONATE.
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Because, in the end, your actions speak louder than any expression ever could.
ft. Inumaru Toma x gn! reader.
cw/genre: fluff.
Helllo, anon, dear ! I’m deeply sorry this took so long to post </3 I still hope the fic matches your expectations and you can enjoy ! Thank you for requesting as well <3
Also, the title of this fic, “Resonate” is the title of a song by my good friend KataribeSan. Please, do give it a listen and support her !
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— Toma is someone who, despite having a good heart, tends to jump into action all too quickly; he is good natured, so much so that at times it might backfire due to his impulsivity.
— He is impatient, and that leads him to search others’ expressions for an answer before they’ve had time to respond.
— However, once you came around, he found himself at an impasse.
— Toma just could not discern the thoughts flashing behind those steady eyes of yours.
— Your smiles were so subtle, at first he had trouble distinguishing whether they were just courteous or if you were genuinely happy.
— And your verbalized replies didn’t give him any better hints either.
— You were always so… polite, in a way? And your tone was always soft and even… How is he supposed to figure out if he’s doing well as your boyfriend?
— To all of this, Minami is having the time of his life smiling sneakily, since he picks up on your tenuous mannerisms, and it is clear how in love with Toma you really are.
— And you realize, how you’re not able to convey your emotions through your facial expressions.
— It’s frustrating. You appreciate Toma so much, and yet, he doesn’t seem to realize.
— That is when your lips slightly curl down in a pout, as you ponder the best course of action to make your boyfriend realize how happy he makes you.
— And the one to notice your rumination is Torao.
— Despite the facade he puts on, he is quite a caring guy, as well as perceptive.
— He suggests you express your feelings through physical affection.
— “Give him hugs, the guy will melt, there is no way he doesn’t pick up on your emotions then.” Torao tells you.
— Well, you’ll give it a try, at the very least; after all, Torao seems versed in the subject of love and dating.
— So that is how you start expressing yourself more.
With the audience’s cheers muffled by the sheltered ambiance the backstage offers, you wait.
ŹOOĻ’s album being released today, they were doing a special concert to present it, and, of course, you were watching closely.
Your gaze is completely entranced as your eyes follow Toma around the stage, his notes and raps making your heart beat faster, the excitement enough to make you want to dance.
However, to the outside observer, you appear calm, impassive even, sitting with your hands crossed over your lap, intently listening to the group’s performance.
To those who are more perceptive, however, a new shine is present in your stare, and you exude a warmer aura, the happiness of seeing your boyfriend and his friends on stage, radiating off of you in calming waves.
Anticipation runs through your veins as you see ŹOOĻ thanking the crowd and waving their goodbyes.
Toma will be by your side soon.
And you are determined to let him know how well he did out there with his group mates.
So the moment your lover steps backstage, you run towards him, wrapping your arms around his waist.
His maroon eyes widen momentarily, your sudden action novel to him, you were always so reserved… it wasn’t often you initiated actions like this spontaneously.
Easing into your touch, ŹOOĻ’s leader leans against you, arms tightening around your form.
Unbeknownst to him (yet), his three friends are witnessing the scene with knowing grins, Torao nodding in approval.
— There’s other times, you just thank Toma for being so caring and good towards you.
— However, because your face doesn’t reflect any emotions and is just a picture perfect neutral expression, it comes across as lackluster.
— In moments like this, is Haruka who comes to your aid.
— “That idiot Toma doesn’t realize your microexpressions, does he? It is clear you really love him and are happy to be with him.” ŹOOĻ’s double center sighs, as he sits next to you.
— Nevertheless, because Haruka is rather shy when it comes to expressing his emotions, he knows how you can convey your feelings.
— “Why don’t you get him a present? Something simple that you know he’ll like.” He suggests.
— You perk up slightly, thanking the group’s youngest member.
— You know exactly what you’ll get Toma.
Hiding the newly acquired item behind your back, you make your way towards Toma.
The new CD of the rock band he loves premiered today, so of course you got him a signed edition.
He spots you, as you silently approach him, your heart loud in your ears, in contrast to your expression that betrays nothing.
Eyes of mauve and sunset look at you, his head tilted to the side in silent question.
You seem… shy right now, it’s a slight change in your usual utterly composed demeanor, but it seems that with time, he’s learned to pick up on it.
And yet, your facial features remain stoic, only your eyes widening slightly, the set of your lips less taut than usual. It’s akin to the warmth that dawn carries the moment it practically twins with dusk; only after experiencing the beauty of a sunrise, can one distinguish the warmth of its rays’ first light.
With care, you show the envelope to your boyfriend.
“I got this for you.” You state, tone unchanging but filled with warmth nonetheless.
The way you shift your weight from one foot to the other causes for Toma’s expression to soften, the pink of silent affection spreading through his cheeks.
He takes the package from you.
And right here and now, before even seeing its contents, your love and affection for him had never been so clear.
Strong arms wrap around you as you let out a surprised gasp.
Even when your expressions remain stony, Toma knows your love for him is just as steady and permanent.
And he couldn’t be happier.
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sugar-petals · 3 years
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♡ physical affection; levi
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↳ NOTE. characterizing boyfriend levi, my passion project lmao! with some sexy moments included 👀
WORDS. ⇢ 7k
tags / warnings. ⚠️ smut, fluff, soft sub!levi x female reader, hurt/comfort hc, angst, shower sex, blowjobs + handjobs + boobjobs (yep. spoiling the captain), face-sitting, protected sex, soap kink, season 3-4 setting, no manga spoilers
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Ready for a surprise? It’s not really about what kind of skinship he’s extremely selective about and what not. This is only something people would perceive about him at first glance. Instead, it comes down to how emotionally sheltered he feels. Because of his experiences, that predicates everything else. Which is why Levi’s sexuality is as complex as it is.
But also, in its sudden perfect expression once a person gives him a different perspective: That’s the time when he is touchier. The more in private, the better. The lights down low, with only a candle or two shining from another room. Broad daylight brings the harsh truths and the shaking ground. Nighttime is when Levi feels more intimate and open to caress, down his back and arms, the shoulders, the side of his neck. Done with extreme gentleness, and all of your deep respect.
If you offer him an environment of trust, Levi is open to almost anything and would even magically doze off in your arms for a little while. Breathing softly, resting for the first time in weeks, the brows becoming less tense the deeper he sleeps. You asking if you can stroke his hair (carefully, not messing it up or anything) is something he can’t say no to. The closet romantic in him will fulfill you any reasonable wish as soon as you’d ask anyway.
We know how receptive the captain is to a request, and how much there can be a soft spot for somebody in his heart. If you’re forward enough to just ask, Levi sets himself that goal and opens up. He is diligent with it just as you’d expect. That especially includes the things he says are „absolute horseshit nonsense“ and „disgusting, useless activities“ when reacting to newly formed couples kissing in the survey corps at the other end of the room. Is he a hypocrite and a hater? Actually— not at all.
Levi is a raised rather than born skeptic. Between courage and care, he is always gonna be torn. Both didn’t work in his favor at some point. But at the end of the day, he fears recklessness more than being cautious. Looking at these couples, he knows that they could lose each other the very next day. Or hell, the next hour. Not everybody has 200 titan kills. 
Not everybody is a physically indestructible Ackerman destined and designed to escape death and outlive others whether they want it or not. And showing themselves this vulnerable out in the open is even more dangerous considering all the political intrigues, chaos, attacks, and espionage going on.
When he’s scoffing at skinship in the survey corps, it’s not his intent to ruin the couples and their little happiness in the present moment (nothing he sees as more tragically precious), or say only he can have a relationship because he’s strong enough to make it survive. If anything, Levi is the prime example of how all his connections were doomed exactly because of his status pulling in all the danger. He very well and painfully knows.
What I mean is: He sees the brutality of consequences that can create more misery than if two people would just go about their business. Levi already dreads that the same might happen to him. But after all, the behavior of others is easier to rectify than his own undeniable feelings for you. Which he cannot control in any way, which is why he reacts to others instead. Looking at other people holding hands, he’s also afraid how dabbling in love is a distraction from threats that can even backfire on uninvolved others if someone is suddenly in harm’s way.
Levi does associate physical touch with something that takes an otherwise observing mind off when it shouldn’t be. To him, it creates something so valuable that can become an unintended burden through all kinds of circumstances, he’s seen it all, it’s terrible he had to. And the reason why he has such a torn relationship with it. You really have to know your stuff to build a resilient little bubble where Levi is not constantly hypervigilant and either past- or future-focused.
Which is pretty damn hardwired into him. It’s almost impossible to bring on that kind of atmosphere spontaneously. It has to be ritualized. His intelligence comes with the downside of overthinking and having problems with spontaneous romance, it’s good to direct his thought into something that’s always done in a specific, structured way. You sit down with tea, put the candles on, Levi finishes cleaning his weapons, makes everything combat-ready and usable in seconds, and you carefully lay down on his impeccably made bed together.
Which he never uses, Levi sleeps in chairs. Or on the ground, so he can feel any titan steps in the distance with his whole body, using the cleanest possible mat or towel as a mattress and nothing else. The bed he basically just makes to have it neat, and for you, and to have a spot to lay together. 
But yeah. He will never remove his harness. Not even when you’re sleeping with each other. He’s not once gonna risk having to put it on in a hurry. The only time you will be skin to skin with him is for not even five minutes under the shower. It’s when his cleanliness beats his anxiety around being always ready, which is why that’s a time to fully cherish.
And then, he really has no qualms about you wrapping your hands around his soap-covered torso in the shower anyway. It’s the only time his inner default germaphobe is not vehemently screaming inside his already heavy heart. It doesn’t have anything to do with you, this is about his demons only, confronted with the immense relief you give him. If the latter wins over his mind’s struggle, Levi might draw out the shower time sometimes.
The other voice that tells him ‚don’t make it end so soon’ is now finally convincing him. He will dial down the water stream so he can hear what’s going on outside better to compensate, to know if there’s any ruckus or approaching hazards. Levi has instructed a fast runner among the cadets to bang on the front door under any critical circumstances immediately in the first place.
Levi says he wants to save water, too. He won’t admit it, but he also turns the showerhead to a medium pressure to hear your calm, almost-quiet moans — the barracks have terribly thin walls — better when you’re sucking him off. Slowly, smoothly, not too much spit. Folded towel under your knees because Levi insists, and he is right. The showers in the survey corps have uncomfortable floor tiles. 
He makes sure you won’t get soap in your mouth as well, I don’t have to tell you that he is very circumspect. Levi isn’t usually feeling overly heated in moments like this, but he gets hard and releases fast. You swear his cum tastes like afternoon tea with milk but you won’t tell him that. And who doesn’t like tea and Levi’s homemade milk, no complaints alright.
What’s still a shame is that Levi, always being in such a constant hurry and alertness, puts too much stress on his body for him to become horny all the way. In fact, he often forgets it. He feels numb, and can’t fully take in the sensations. Levi has not been able to feel a lot of genuine pleasure in his life. 
A racing mind is an absolute sex killer, and his adrenaline spikes are so high in combat that most normal things don’t do anything for him. Which is why he brews his tea extra strong. But seriously: It’s a concerning thing. And it tells you to take your time. With his whole body, doing the things he loves the most. And what else could that be? It’s straightforward: Keepin’ it clean.
You make sure that Levi feels extra comfortable by thoroughly massaging his loins and thighs with a sponge during foreplay. Yes, you’re gently working him up. All in circles and light brushing motions. Lots of soap. Suave and bubbly, like silk on his skin. It’s handmade, with oat milk, lavender, and honey. For your honey. You regularly gift a new one to him to try out scents and have supply. You can guess how much Levi appreciates it, to the moon and back in fact. The present box is neatly stored on his office table where he can always see it.
Sending out its balmy fragrance throughout the day, making the room smell amazingly aromatic to him. His nose will never grow tired or accustomed to it. Levi puts the soapbox in a drawer within literal split seconds when someone who isn’t you enters the room. „Tsk, announce yourself when you knock…“ That could even be the newest recruit who doesn’t know anything at all about the place and people. But this is just a you and him thing.
Levi doesn’t want nosy questions from the squad even though nobody would probably even notice the soap laying there in its case, much less ask him about it or the fresh scent in the air because duh, it’s Levi’s office. But it feels absolutely personal for him — so he reacts sensitively about it. This man would probably protect your lavender soap with his blades if he had to. 
The captain is very secretive about your relationship in general. Who on earth would go as far as buy him a new scented bar of joy bi-weekly? At this point, he would crawl on hot coals, needles, lava, ice shards, desert sand, and a mile-long straight of legos (laid out by a maniacally laughing Zeke personally) for you.
Although you wouldn’t allow any of it. Nothing should ever hurt those kitty paws, I mean captain hands and captain feet. You’d put Zeke on blast on your own, luring him with a banana to confuse his senses and then, whack, homerun the monkey into the ocean with Levi’s bristle broom. Problem solved. Anyway.
 Levi wouldn’t hurt himself willingly that way either, the ice shards don’t stand a chance. He has sworn to protect his own life out of self-respect, to honor those passed by living on bravely toward the goal they worked for and being the one always coming home to you. You can rely on him.
So enough about gleaming hot coals and Zeke’s evil legos, back to the point — you already get what I mean. Levi might seem totally grumpy on the outside, but for sure is a devoted man, a caliber as always. He takes all of your presents to heart and is unbelieving as to why he’d be deserving of so much. You prove a point using the gifts as regularly as possible on his body. Where he can feel every bit of your fondness of him. And remember it with muscle memory. Oh shit, this soap does smell so good. As anything on him, who are we kidding.
Dousing Levi with all your attention is the best thing ever. He feels great relaxing with you, and his face softens up. He’s looking at you with a tiny smile in response to you whispering sweet things to him, all while you’re using the sponge on his legs, the chest, and ever-tense back that can definitely use some alleviation. „Thank you for cleaning me“ has got to be the best thing ever to hear from Levi Ackerman. It means the entire world to him. Captain, your mommy kink is showing. His arousal increasing is a natural side effect in no time.
Recently, you’ve been slipping his cock between your breasts as well, and it’s been slowing him down a lot after an eventful mission. While at the same time making him more in the moment, he really enjoys you gradually lathering him up like that. The feeling of skin on skin is amazing. It might be something that… often crosses his mind when he trains during the day, but he can blend it out for the important things. Until you do it all over again, and he ruminates about how much you turn him on until the sun rises.
You also never do a blowjob hands-free. Why would you, anyway? His body is amazingly buff and compact, you want to hold onto those gorgeous lil’ hips and his own hands that need a fair share of holding after carrying the world. You feel him twitching on your tongue when you run either hand over his ass and abs, making sure to trace across all his most erogenous spots there. What’s more: Levi feels really protected and soothed when he feels your palms on him under the streaming water, he can’t explain it.
That's why you like doing shower handjobs just as much. I don’t have to tell you that Levi really delights in them as well and his poker face regularly cracks a bit. His eyes fixate on you, you can tell the connection and involvement. He thinks your fingertips are heavenly, a welcome change to his rugged days. 
He loves how softly they tease and stimulate him with the smallest movements and subtle presses. Yes, Levi doesn’t like rough action, those are vulnerable moments. He has enough brutality elsewhere, violently jerking him off and insulting him would be entirely inappropriate and even scare him.
He’d probably brush your wrists off right away, it’d be so uncomfortable in the silence of the evening. A tender chain of kisses on the nose tip, chin, collar bone, and especially forehead gets him going a lot more. The more chaste and doting the kiss, the more he melts on the inside. 
His anxiety baseline goes down, and he feels like he can let you in. However you guide him and however you choose to indulge him with your lips, Levi is on board, quietly enjoying. Since it’s something that he’s still feeling so new to, leaving you the active role comes naturally.
Stroking him with a deep pace, carefully brushing your lips against his to give him goosebumps — Levi definitely grows into that. In those moments, he really feels taken care of, in safe hands, hands that will stay with him. He’s gonna be surprised just how good something like this feels many times. And be overwhelmed by pleasure to the point where it almost frightens him, he didn’t have that a lot until now.
The satisfaction of a spotless table simply does not compare. Just so you know: He will either be dead silent or mumble under his breath nonstop. That he is okay with you touching him below the belt and even take him in your mouth tells you how much Levi trusts you, how much he knows you love him, and how meticulously he’s already scrubbed and shaved himself beforehand. Yes, the sheer preparation. He puts a lot of work into his body. He couldn’t stand you becoming dirty.
That’s also why the shower is the place oral goes down. And even there, he uses like ten cleaning products to double rinse the stall and himself before and after. Mind you. He sees you eating healthy, brushing your teeth well. Your lips are very beautiful and a masterpiece of nature to him. So it’s not you who he thinks is dirty. Levi is pretty damn paranoid about his own skin and hygiene. If only he would think about himself the way he thinks of your body.
He feels like he has to earn it, be acceptable, and prepare himself endlessly to enjoy touch. Even then, he thinks he must be ugly and revolting. You have to respect him fussing about it rather than forcing him to cut down on his routines. You don’t criticize his perfectionism and see the motivation behind it. So instead, you reassure Levi your own way.
The more he sees you having fun and enjoying his body, the more accepted, confident, and clean he feels. Most people would like to see their partner play up the enthusiasm obviously (unless you have a ‚hiding his amazement’ emo boy kink, which is exactly why you like Levi don’t cha), but it’s particularly meaningful to Levi. Guess why he looks up to Armin’s mentality, and Hange is one of the few people who truly vibe with Levi.
She’s easily amused, dedicated, swooning, excited, and constantly eager. Levi does appreciate a bit of zeal in someone. If you’re a little ardent about touching him, it’ll give his esteem a boost he’s long needed, oh god. Nobody has the guts to praise this guy like that, even if he’s so extremely good-looking. Don’t let him off the hook there. Give him feedback, you’ll be surprised how much it resonates.
It’s already apparent to yourself how keen you are being touchy with him, hell, you’re so in love. Still, it’s a good idea to give him an idea how stoked you are. He doesn’t like it fast and brutally raw without a second thought, but passionate is a whole other debate. A simple „Levi, stay like this, let me do it“ or „Levi, you smell so good“ works wonders. Say what you think and his ease will set in. And I don’t have to tell you that you won’t look like sex is a chore anyway. With Levi, that’s an honor and a pleasure.
That he puts his faith in you and gives you his time is already a massive deal and goes against everything we know of him, what he’s used to, and how his avoidant personality works, being so ridden with losses. And it’s all because of how much you desire and approach him. That’s what it comes down to. 
Even if he’d suffer decades from yearning, he’d not go out of his way to kickstart something, never ever. He’d feel like he’d cause you so much trouble. You wanting him so badly and treating his body like a treasure on the other hand changes his mind.
It proves him wrong all the way. There is still time to enjoy love, the chance is now. Anything else would plague Levi with solitude and self-pity all over again. And the feeling of missing you around in his rooms. Two teacups on the table until he grows old and grey are his ideal of a good life, after all. He will open himself to your emotional and physical presence, realizing how touch-starved he is, and how much it improves his life to have someone to kiss and lay down next to at night.
The even breath at the back of his neck gives him a sense of finally someone sticking around with him side by side, even if he’s gone during the day. It feels good and right to be wanted by you, and nuzzling his face into your cotton dress. Your commitment gives him the little smiles and the silver lining he’s been searching for. He can’t label that feeling, but it’s joy of life and humankind, more than just a willingness for it. He would stay forever pained and bitter if he wouldn’t invite it in now, and you won’t waste that chance with being silent.
You’re attracted to everything about him, tell him, make him aware. The voice, the hair, the mannerisms, his height, his abilities, his mind, his care for others, the posture, how soft his cheeks are, the list is endless. Levi won’t miss how much he’s your type at some point. Which gives him a lot of ease, comfort. You show him that his inferiority complex was an entire smokescreen in his mind. 
He fucking deserves to be called handsome. And by the way — you can lust over him as much as you want when he’s made that time window for your couple stuff. It’s good if you make it as obvious as possible for him. Which is hard to hide anyway. You’ve been masturbating over Levi just sitting there sternly writing something. And he’s like why, and you’re like, it’s you! Look at you!
Levi does want you to touch his skin all over but it’s always sore. And he remains insecure on many days. So he only has particular comfortable spots in the first place. Since hardly anybody dares to touch him, and even if he pats someone’s shoulder nobody would ever be courageous enough to reciprocate, you would feel a bit like a lab scientist. Silently theorizing over him at first even if you really don’t have to. Other people say they’d rather run towards a titan than expose themselves to Levi’s moods, swords, and barking tone after trying to caress him in any way.
News flash, Levi has had such terrible moods since forever because there’s no affection coming to him from anywhere just because people decided he might not need it. And no, he won’t yell at you for touching. He finds it very sweet of you instead. Touching Levi always creates an occasion that will float around in his head for the entire day, that’s guaranteed. He sees how someone goes out of their way and cares for his well-being. He might not like it like standing in the middle of the whole corps, but anywhere else is fair game, at home anyway.
The pressure of dealing with threats he can manage to a degree, and he has lord how many coping strategies. The lack of love he cannot. Big difference that everybody seems to confuse. On top of how he has to be unrelenting in his position because battlefield and the Yeagers being a pain. Most people — except maybe Armin — see that as a closedness to touching altogether. 
The whole world seemingly can't intuit Levi’s craving of gentleness behind the arguably pretty convincing armor, but still. It seems like only a few souls ever think about the Levi that sits down on his bed in the evening completely depleted. You have to make it clear to yourself and him that it’s obviously a one-dimensional way of looking at Levi Ackerman and not good for him.
Which has covertly shaped how he interacts with others in return like a vicious spiral, which is why he blames solely himself for his depravation. And, how severe and untouchable the circumstances made his character. Yes, Levi despises himself for being inaccessible and unable to change it on top, added to how it happened to him over the years. 
Which he had pretty much zero influence on being basically at the gunpoint of life. It’s what you hate seeing the most and comfort him about with brewing tea. It definitely comes back tenfold, Levi won’t take it for granted when you brush out his hair and speak soothingly to him in the evening. „I don’t care, those are all reasons why you’re the apple of my eye“ seems to be what makes Levi’s heart a little mushy in particular.
He is very preoccupied with blame at the start of your relationship. Levi is torn apart by daily guilt and a constantly looming perception of failure to show an opening to his heart. He also crumbles under how the majority of people don’t take him seriously, overreact, or fear he snaps back into soldier mode — he doesn’t — when he does show affection. 
That you gaze behind his reputation and touch him without prejudice is the most important thing to him. You can ignore his mad and gloomy expression, Paradis has carved it into his face for half an eternity (the other half is for you and him when this is over). It doesn’t mean he’s angry on the inside about you. The causes for his madness are way elsewhere, knowing his early story it goes without saying. What made Levi callous and broken-hearted are things very opposite to you.
Those who only see and enjoy his fighting personality probably want him as their poster boy, people who are reflected enough to bother with the idea of a private, cuddling Levi are the only truly caring ones. Because private Levi needs that physical and emotional connection the most. Patting his cadets on their heads is only a little, albeit meaningful moment. The teacup is still half-empty regardless if you wanna think of it in those terms.
Because he can only do so much in terms of initiative — which already shocks people to the point of paralysis, which ruins the moment since he assumes it’s not appreciated then — and it’s only one-sided. Giving isn’t fully making him happy even if it’s his only option given how most people perceive him. 
The teacup only fills to the brim if Levi can let go for like half an hour getting some good ole kitty on your lap treatment. He silently lays there and enjoys your hand rubbing at the back of his neck. He looks genuinely peaceful that way. His hand palms gently at your thigh and knee, and rests there all tranquil while he ruminates about his day and how lucky he is to have you.
The whole ‚theorzing rather than going for it‘ thing stems from you listening to those people a bit too much at the beginning. Instead of asking Levi directly about touch, and to be fair: Not a single human being has done that yet, you try to figure him out at a distance. Which is also a good thing though. 
You learn about many Levi habits others would overlook, misinterpret, or don’t think have any meaning. The more you learn about him, the more understanding you become, the more protective you will be, the less he will avoid intimacy. Because Levi really doesn’t want to shy away, but often his body has too much memory in it to be instantly receptive. So it rather starts with the mind, then.
The irony is. Levi rejecting bonds with others as not to have them weigh heavy on his mind when fighting will only make it worse. You make a statement to him that if he fully immerses himself in what you have, he can fight better and actually be without those godforsaken regrets he’s always talking about. That’s why when you’re having sex, you make him look in your eyes and kiss their lids, and wrap your legs around him very firmly because Levi has to know he’s deeply yours. 
Hugs, the same thing. You squeeze the last curse out of him every time and tell him to hold you tight as well. You do have to tell him twice. Just because Levi is the strongest man in history, doesn’t mean he embraces very roughly. In fact, Levi is not used to this at all. Even more irony. Paradis’ ever-swearing, most badass titan killer with the physical excellence of a hundred acrobats can’t execute the simple act of putting his arms around you in a normal, casual way.
The why is the harder thing to talk about. Last time he got proper, truly loving hugs was way over 20 years ago. From Kuchel, during a time where he was too young to remember these things long-term. Let that sink in. It confuses him when he does it and even more so when others do. Kissing Historia’s hand even as a light official gesture was already completely unusual for him and a first time. 
Levi doesn’t go beyond what he sees others doing in that regard. No extra miles, just imitating. Now think of him with something as big a deal as embracing his lover for minutes. He lets his arms just hang there and you gotta make him learn how to intertwine fingers or how to press his palms on your back. You’re the one holding him tight there, while Levi’s mind and stare go blank, he’s even more speechless and perplexed after confronting his uncle back then.
I’m not kidding. You have to ask Levi to be forthcoming with those things as well, it simply does not occur to him, and he’s unsure about everything there is to it. What a loveless world this guy is in. If it already frustrates you to see him struggle, imagine how deprived he must be. One of his inner blocks is, Levi has major jealousy of guys who are what he thinks a better hugging height. It’s obviously the other way around to anybody who’d be in love with Levi. 
Of course he has the best hugging height by far. What’s not to like? He’s ideal. But in his perspective, imagine all these people above him wrapping around each other in moments of enthusiasm, shoulder-level on shoulder-level, or only with slight differences. And when it comes to him, it feels awkward because they feel strange bending down only for him and Armin.
And that’s probably the issue. Because it’s much better not to bend and try and intertwine, but just have Levi bury his face into your winter coat without a hassle. You don’t have to be perfectly chest to chest to make it work. Besides… romantic hugs are always a bit different. And, you invite Levi to do exactly that with you. Since Levi’s pet peeve is politeness, you’ll also have to show him the difference between mere courtesy and love, he hasn’t fully learned it either. 
But just so you know. Levi is not a naive baby or raging bull in a china shop once he has given his love to someone. He observes well, adapts well. When it’s heartfelt, when it’s the right moment, it comes out almost by surprise, he’s feeling it and he will respond to you. With serenity and intent.
If there’s someone who can be unpretentious with physicality, that’s him. He just has to transfer that to romantic gestures and Levi will be the perfect lover after some time. He’ll end up like, „Eh, so what. We do this hugging thing!“ — Hilarious. Levi, knowing his battle tactics, does have a sort of innate courage to approach bodies: This time, it’s about someone he wants to give pleasure and gratitude to, though. Which will feel very different. 
And you’re a lady he’s all whipped for, that changes everything. He might sort of try to lean at the wall next to you, to murmur about you kissing him after eating cake so he’s full of crumbs „and now I have to dust it all off again, hmph“, but he is not prepared for another kiss and you tickling him pinned against the wall (he’s not ticklish, but you still love it, and Levi has a thing for you being all over him despite his stoic face).
So yeah, Levi will be super grumpy and do the „Oi oi!“ thing, but also turn around so you won’t see the blush. Man, is he embarrassed. He will try to waddle away awkwardly to do paperwork, but no chance if you tug him back by the sleeve, dust off his shirt from crumbs, and squeeze his cheeks into a perfect Levi snoot. I’m telling you, he has a nice pouty face. 
He might assume that you’re out of your mind because nobody has done that with him yet, but once you tell him that you just wanna look at him because every day might be the last, he sees the point of your antics. Merely saying you kiss him just because won’t make sense to the captain, it’s gotta have a purpose for the future.  
So, you will tell him to always remember what your soothing lips do on him before he draws the blade tomorrow, and that he has plenty of filthy crumbs to come home to. „I think that’s right by what we’ve seen today“ is what he’ll admit, and carries you off to the bed to get grinding because all that stuff made him kinda turned on. Or rather, you grind, Levi on the other hand gets flustered. He complains about you being a tease at length since he’s having a huge she-pinned-me-to-the-wall boner. 
You sit on his face to take it even further and as his favorite treat, end of discussion, your goddess is here mister. Geez, you’ll make him a hot mess. That dick won’t go soft anytime soon. You’ll talk to him about when his face is already ruined with cake crumbs, he has nothing to lose, gotta clean up anyway. The grumbling noise from below tells you that the argument is a good one. For good measure, you palm at his trousers to see his legs react and his voice suddenly hitch. Ah, it’s a wonderful day.
Levi knows a thing or two about holding his breath correctly, but what he likes the most is that he feels perfectly sandwiched between thigh Rose and thigh Maria. Yeah, he does consider them his personal comfort walls and hopes they’ll always be there. Congruently, Levi wraps his arms around them, in fact it’s locking rather than wrapping, and you’re like I see wow he’s serious. 
On goes his tongue lapping away between your labia pretty much incessantly. The arousal is so intense, you have to breathe in yourself. Oh shit, Levi is gonna try to finish you off, shots fired. Not fast, but insisting. He does not bother with you panting pretty damn hard whatsoever. He’s calling people like that, but Levi might be the real brat all along.
Fair enough, he currently doesn’t hear anything, which he also loves the idea of. All day, people everywhere are talking nonsense, and now he gets to enjoy perfect silence. His ears are small, they’re easy to cover with thighs. He just goes on and on and gets you past lord how many brinks with a heated buildup. 
There are a lot of evil things Mister Zeke has said and committed, but by far the most offending thing he has yet insinuated is that Levi is not popular with the ladies. Blasphemy, treason, outrage, éclat, trickery, criminal offense, international slander, the most grueling case of fake news since the horse left the building, and no, Jean is not meant. With those oral skills, any lady interested in him would get a permanently bleeding nose and something else permanently wet as you can personally attest to.
If Paradis would even remotely know what he can do in bed (and they would if Connie told them, he lives next door), even more people would run down his house than they already do to get a piece of him. Jesus Christ, the Ackerstamina. But I mean. People are probably suspecting it. 
How can you not move like a god in bed if you can bend yourself into any Pythagorean shape mid-air. Him being a fighter also gives him experience with managing energy when you have sex, I’m not kidding. Levi can even handle you thrusting right back on his tongue, and even your jokes about how he’s getting the cream to his tea now.
Levi is already kind of dripping in juice. His fingers are sweaty, this time it’s something on his face and hands he prefers though. He won’t wipe it off just yet. So you take on the task to put a condom on him — kind of expensive, mysteriously imported, gotta make every one count my friend — and have Levi take you from behind to soil the bedsheets completely at this point. 
Levi lets all the leaking happen, of course he notices, and yet he’s too focused on you gripping his cock hard all the way. So much for walls. Levi has to surrender to the thought of you squeezing him in any way you fancy at this point. That doesn’t just include the face, that much he learned. His cock is gonna fall off, you tighten up so much and make him squirm, Levi’s all blissed out.
He can’t handle your ass either. He just stares like the Founding Titan invented a brand new method to hypnotize the Ackermans or something. Although. Why’d you need to come up with something, though? People they love completely enthrall them already. 
If we know something by now, it's that every Ackerman gets completely fucked in the head out of the blue and sent to another dimension when they’re with the love of their life, no hypnotizing device needed. Levi is clasping his teeth for his dear life back there. People asking him if he’s gone mad he’d answer ‚maybe‘, but if you asked him if this made him lose it he would admit it.
Since he doesn’t know what to do with his hands again, you ask him to place them at your waist. „Properly, now slide in, Levi.“ — He takes his time for the first few thrusts, grunts, but gets the hang of it, in fact he’s a pro in the making. All that vertical maneuvering can turn into horizontal maneuvering very quickly. Levi feels so strange and so good at the same time, it’s overwhelming. How can something he thought would be so dirty be this amazing? 
And since this position allows him to penetrate you even deeper, Levi gets the full experience of being inside of you times two. The wet noise already turns him on, his body feels so warmed up, and he feels really shocked he’s doing this. Although his face won’t show, it’ll be concentrated as before. On the inside, Levi is losing it.
He can’t get enough of your body and how you tell him what to do, Levi will be driving it home in no time. You’re gonna have your jaw dropped by how lusty he can get yourself, but also love how he’s really breaking a sweat just because of your hard grip. Who would have thought. 14-meter class titans got nothing on you. Levi’s entire neck and chest is glazed over. You call him out on it, all you’re gonna get is a little ‚tch, that’s your fault, woman‘. I mean of course it is. He’s literally at your mercy. I told you he’s hilarious.
Little did you know that Levi will straight-up ignore his sweatiness and just continue, one heartbeat at a time, to really fill you out and make you feel good. Can you imagine. Levi dedicating like 20 minutes to make sweet love to you doggystyle. 
He has a good feeling for keeping you just on the verge of cumming. He even reaches around to press two fingers into your clit after five minutes of figuring out his angles. You didn’t expect this at all. It’s as if Levi can read your mind going „but his hands are gonna get really messy, why?“ — he just goes on rubbing and says, deadpan: „Miss, do I look like I care.“
Some dirty things in the world are just there to annoy him. They’re not existing to make his life easier. And toilet humor-related things: We know Levi’s stance on that. Wet pussy on the other hand: Surprise. He thinks of it very differently. Levi is pretty caught off guard by the fact that you loving and adoring him is the reason you’re leaking so much. 
It sinks in (um, literally) that you’re all drippy because you really want him inside. Not to mention that he constantly realizes just how attracted to him you are. Your desire for him, that’s Ackerman kryptonite. Levi doesn’t miss your eyes, nope. That motherfucker is a damn good face reader.
And— How warmed up your body feels in his hands, how you’re breathing. How you’re telling him exactly how to tilt to hit the good spots. How you’re sucking in air when he does just that. How you sound, grip the pillow, the sheets. Your goosebumps all over your legs. How your lips part. How you wait for every thrust. The way you tell him how good it is. Your pulse. Your own sweaty back, letting his hands on your waist slip and slide a little with the rhythm. 
How he’s struggling not to moan his soul out and chokes back. How you’re softly moving to glide off, he’s gonna lose his mind. How much you’re enjoying him and how cute you tell him he is. Whatever you’d ask of him, he’s so ready to fulfill it. You having the absolute hots for Levi is probably gonna preoccupy him for the whole night while you’re sleeping and he sits in the chair.
He’s been shooting grumpy cat level eye daggers with extra Ackerpoison at the corps couples for walking around showing any signs of this. Making all those lovey-dovey faces or going to the back of the barn together. Levi has chased them with his favored broom to whoop-diddly-doop those horndog soldiers back on track, swirling his weapon of choice around to send a sweeping cloud of dust after them.
Whereas now… he has to deal with the fact that he really loves all that horny stuff. Cognitive dissonance 101 is striking him out of nowhere. I mean he’d not fuck in the barn, that one is truly disgustingly shittily bastardly filthy or however he’d word it, but you get the gist. He caught feelings and caught pleasure — and that’s such a good thing.
His problem is, Levi wouldn’t know how to fawn right back at you. Except saying „good job“ like he’d praise a cadet, but he decides that’s not something to say during sex. He’s very right about that indeed. So instead: He will always reply to you accordingly and with Levi-typical honesty. 
If you say you love how he kisses your neck from behind, he will tell you he’s enjoying it as well because damn he loves that spot indeed (titans can tell you a story about it… Levi has such a neck fixation, that fucker). And: Letting actions speak the loudest with him. He’s a practical guy. Levi’s hands can to the most complicated reverse grips and all that crazy human Beyblade shit. Getting you off at his fingertips is gonna be his easiest exercise ever once he gets into it.
He doesn’t even do it to show off at this point. Levi is just that kind of a sex machine and eager to please, not to mention god, is he obedient and a giver in disguise. If Levi were offered the most luxurious, expensive tea available versus your breasts to suck on for a week given he’s free of titan duty… that cup is gonna turn cold. He loves the skinship and he loves giving you a fuckton of orgasms, as many as you like and as many he has time for.
Self-explanatory, this is something he will not feel one bit of regret about. Hours touching you is the farthest from wasting time to Levi. The less he holds back with his love, the more secure things become. He doesn’t feel the misery he thought he’d run into, nor does it feel like a reckless act that’s only something feeble. 
The new soap every other week on his table alone reminds him you’re here to stay and like his every quirk, and make this a private thing rather than something to parade around. You never lied saying „Levi, you’re mine.“ He does wrap his head around the fact that all of this is happening with time.
Levi finds your relationship meaningful because it gives him feelings and exactly that emotional harbor he never had before, and he gifts you the reverence of your lifetime since Levi doesn’t half-ass anything. You reassured and guided him so much, he looks up to that, it breaks down his prejudice against loving more and more. That’s how you’ll feel intimate in all kinds of ways for very intense hours he can spare to make the most out of it. 
From the light touch at his arm to making out until the candles burn down. And if you tell Levi to sell the deal and dedicate his heart, how can he not take that as a serious order. He has to be guarded to put his guard down, and that’s what you can offer him, and he will create something lasting out of it. Promise is promise to him, we all know.
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RELATED:  sub!levi hc (tea shop au) | life after war (levi’s happy end)
multifandom mlist | levi writings on ao3
© 2017-2021 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. no reposts and translations allowed.
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en-amours · 3 years
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loser (affectionately).
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☼ park sunghoon x reader; pure fluff, established relationship au.
sometimes, the definition of love is really just laughing over your soulmate nearly falling on their face and challenging them to a racing competition in a public ice rink (where everyone is prone to accidents).
warnings: none
notes: this is what happens when you indulge too much in what was supposed to be just a quick bullet scenario but kept on returning to it until it became a full-fledged drabble :D this is sunghoon’s part in the “ooh, you wanna kiss me so bad” req i’m writing! hope y’all enjoy <3
♡ — taglist: @yoshinung @cyberhwng (tumblr won’t let me tag y’all for some reason :<) @stargirlstories @lovelycharm05 @honeyju
wordcount: 1.1k
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Being with Park Sunghoon feels like getting whisked into the streets of a city brimming with life and light; like witnessing the first breath of winter unfurl upon the shimmering rooftops of your hometown; the sweet rush of euphoria as the wind breaks through your hair on impulsive afternoon drives, skyline in view—it’s been two summers, but he still takes your breath away like the first time you met on that lonely spring day.
You cannot describe half of the magic he invokes in your chest when you meet his eyes, when he intertwines his hands with yours as he walks with you along the streets populated with fragrant honeysuckles into the quaint café tucked behind the old bookstore downtown, when you see his eyes turn into crescent moons in a solemn spot beside the Han River, or any moment you share with him in these spontaneous little meet-ups when time finally decides to spare a little mercy to one more pair of starcrossed lovers. Even if you try, there is nothing more impossible than describing all the things Sunghoon makes you feel.
That and you think he’s an absolute monster for laughing at you as you try to avoid your near-death, you hurl your glove at his face, holding onto the rare space near the railings in your town’s public rink, and Sunghoon’s laughter ceases as your glove hits him square in the face.
“Deserved,” you state, gaining enough balance to push away from the barrier, you deliver a gentle slap to his shoulder with a half-hearted glare. “Boyfriends are supposed to help you out when you nearly get run over by a group of prepubescent kids, not laugh at your demise.”
“I just thought that your vision wasn’t as bad as I thought it was,” he reasons with a smug smile, putting your glove back on, but his hand doesn’t leave yours. “Plus, weren’t you an athlete before?”
“I haven’t been on the ice since the ninth grade, genius,” you huff, “it won’t come rushing back to me after a minute of skating around.”
Gently, Sunghoon pulls you closer, and you will never get used to seeing his eyes in close proximity, how they sparkle softly beneath the blinding luminance of a thousand dangling lights, yet you think it isn’t the lights that’s making him brighter. Your breath hitches, and he breaks into a smile. “But you’re okay now, right?”
“Y-Yeah. Why? What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just wanted to make sure,” he shrugs, and you try to assess his nonchalance, but he is skillful in calibrating his façade so you drop your efforts, and as snow graces the world in gentle whirls, joy paints his ribs golden and his heart plays a rapid boomboomboom because he’s seeing his two greatest loves together and warmth settles between his ribs and says, I am home.
—————
Ten minutes have never felt this short before.
Quietly, you marvel over the unbridled excitement that glazes Sunghoon’s eyes, that pools in his palms and taints his cheeks in a lovely glow. His steps are a ghost of all the programs he’s inscribed into his bones, he flashes you a grin after he performs a spin, and you’re about to commend him when a kid whizzes past you at Sonic-level speed, hysterical with laughter. Thus begins the formation of an idea.
“...woah,” Sunghoon breathes out as returns beside you, but both of your eyes still follow the kid, “I hope they don’t slip—or accidentally run over someone’s hand.”
“Yeah… that’d be disastrous,” there’s a clip of anticipation in your tone, and Sunghoon shares an expectant look with you. Silence. But then you ask:
“Wanna race me?”
He starts bolting along the sides of the rink without warning, the implication of a competition enough to propel him forward without any remorse; with an outraged cry, you follow suit.
(In hindsight, maybe going against a former speed skater is a bad idea but Sunghoon would rather lick the pavement than let you—his universe, the love of his life—think that he was giving up easily.)
You catch up to him quickly, the cold wind biting your cheeks raw, but hearing Sunghoon’s laugh feels like liquid electricity in your veins. “You know you’re going to lose so hard, right?”
“As if I’d ever let that happen,” he huffs, nimbly dodging a wobbly couple, and you chuckle softly.
“It’s cute how you think you can beat me.”
Your words add more coal to the fire, but part of Sunghoon is surreptitiously delighted that you think he’s cute. “Ooh, you just wanna kiss me so bad, don’t you?”
After two minutes you end up beating him anyway, and you come up to him with a grin that makes him think he can hold the world in his bare hands (are you even aware of the things you do to him? And even if you are, would you still have been this cruel?).
“I told you so,” you grin, hands fixing your scarf; Sunghoon sees the little chips and scars littering your skin, and he realizes that he’s grown to love everything about you all the same—he adores all of you. and he hates that he does. He hates how he loves you so much (he doesn’t).
“Yeah, yeah. You don’t have to rub it in my face.”
You laugh at him softly, reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes. his panting has transmuted into quiet breaths, and he is just as captivating as the first time you saw him—you let your hands fall to his waist, fingers dancing along to a vague holiday tune playing over bass-boosted speakers. Sunghoon traces your jaw, and he retracts his hand because his touch might make you colder, but your own one shoots up to keep his in place, wanting to keep him closer.
“You were right,” you whisper, half-defeated, half-elated by this revelation: “I do wanna kiss you. So, so bad.”
There it is again: that stupid, toothy grin of his. You didn’t ever think you would ever learn to love someone like this, but boy, you’ve fallen hard.
(Little do you know that Sunghoon has, too.)
He presses his lips against yours, softly, tentatively, and though maybe the world is just a speck of light in a macrocosm of galaxies, you are worth more than that.
You are worth everything.
When you pull away, Sunghoon laughs incredulously at your expression. “What's with the face? I thought you won?”
“Yeah, I did, but I’m also a loser in a way,” you frown, glaring half-heartedly at your soulmate.
“How so?”
“It’s you, idiot. I’m a loser for you,” a sigh leaves your mouth, and Sunghoon giggles; he places your foreheads together, and there is nothing more beautiful than him.
“That's alright, you and I can be losers together.”
830 notes · View notes
aminiatureworld · 3 years
Text
Opposites
Characters: Xiao, gn!reader
Word Count: 1,594
Warnings: Swearing
Premise: In which the reader is the brain and Xiao is the brawn
Author’s Note: I wasn’t sure what the general setting should be so I put it in a vaguely college/university setting. Prolly cause that’s around my age and also because I cordially dislike highschool AUs. Hopefully that works out alright!
I had to type out almost 2,000 words on my iphone. I never want to do that again.
Xiao
Honestly none of your friends are actually sure how you two got together.
After all, if someone were to take a picture of you and your partner side-by-side then show it to people not in the know, well the prevailing emotion would be something along the lines of: “Are they classmates or neighbors or something?”
To be fair, when the two of your first met even the idea that you would ever end up in love was something laughable. Having been pushed together for a project, your knee-jerk reaction had been: Oh I’m totally going to end up doing this all by myself.
Thankfully however you’d been quickly proven wrong. Although Xiao hadn’t necessarily been the best about planning and other such things, his work was organized and he always showed up to every meeting with his parts completed.
By the end of the project you never wanted to work with another person on a group project again.
And, to be completely honest, you’d definitely developed a crush on your slightly aloof group partner.
Xiao’s reaction was much harder to read.
At first he appeared to want nothing to do with you. Work was emailed to you with not so much as a subject line; meetups passed in awkward silence broken by tentative questions on your part. You’d sort of assumed that he saw you as annoying and the group work as useless - which to be fair it sort of was useless.
So when he emailed you a few weeks later asking for your number and if you wanted to do something, well, safe to say you almost fell out of your chair.
Though the start was a little awkward, Xiao’s conversational nature didn’t develop much in general, you two fell into a routine of sorts, a relationship of unspoken boundaries and spontaneous confidences.
During the first few weeks of you odd sort of relationship you’d come to the conclusion that, though not a talker, Xiao was ultimately quite apathetic in nature. Eventually however you realized apathetic wasn’t the right term.
Though he might’ve appeared sullen on the outside, Xiao never actually acted in a way that hinted at any resentment or irritation; he never dragged his feet about something or implied it was stupid that you should ask for help or for a favor.
His assertiveness, which might’ve been mistaken for aloofness, was endearing. Xiao never half-asses anything, even when if wasn’t doing something for another person, like you.
You appreciated this side of his personality, the fact that he was quick to act, admired if even. It certainly stood in stark contrast to your tendency to overthink things, something that could quickly end up kneecapping you depending on what decisions were being debated.
It was an alien concept to you, the sort of philosophy Xiao seemed to live by, and its novelty was refreshing.
As your thoughts slid more and more to focusing on Xiao you became more and more aware of the rumors that abounded about him.
He was a troubled youth, he was prone to fighting, he had been so uncontrollable in secondary school that only one teacher had been able to get him to do anything. The only times he spoke was to wound, and he never had a word to say that wasn’t angry.
Well, obviously that wasn’t the truth, but any attempt to clear up the situation was quickly met with odd stares and responses that all smacked of: “Oh you poor idiot, you just haven’t learned yet.”
You would’ve liked to think that you didn’t let it affect your relationship with him, but evidently the rumors had begun to catch up to you.
“Hey, you’ve been avoiding me.”
“Have I?” You shifted awkwardly in your seat. Xiao sighed, evidently aware of where this was going.
“It’s because of what people say about me, isn’t it?”
“Maybe.”
“I see.”
That had been the beginning and the end of the conversation for quite some time, almost as if Xiao had yet to decide whether or not you were one of the few in whom he could entrust the truth. Yet despite the rumors and the odd looks you still found yourself gravitating towards Xiao, and soon enough that initial pull turned into something much deeper.
The day that you two became “official” was the day Xiao told you the truth. He had been a delinquent as a teenager.
Born into a family full of troubles Xiao shouldered the circumstances as best he could.
However things cannot stay untouched forever; the distress that Xiao experienced only grew, the pressure ratcheting up with every incident, every item thrown to the ground, every fight that ended in humiliating pain.
Eventually it became too much, and when it did Xiao took his anger out not on his family, not on the people who had failed him, but on any classmate who antagonized the vulnerable child.
Fights became a regular part of Xiao’s life until university, and it was only in meeting his mentor, Zhongli, that the lost young man had managed to pull his life together.
Things made more sense after that, though one couldn’t say that everything was right with the world. Students, coworkers, the particularly idiotic TA, all of them still carried the sense that Xiao was not to be trusted. You could see how it upset your partner sometimes, when he was ignored at the coffeeshop or excluded from class group chars in the like.
Whenever he did that Xiao tended to retreat into himself, as if worried he might explode again. It took a lot of coaxing to get him out of such situations but it was always worth it to see your partner’s expression soften, to see his small smile once more.
What you didn’t tell him was that you were just as angry as he was, just as resentful at the people within your major which were hellbent on acting like they were still in high school.
Eventually however the trials of your early were utterly forgotten, the questions and the secrets replaced by a sense of slightly hilarious domestic bliss.
You were definitely the brains of the group, something Xiao didn’t seem to mind - though he probably would find that actual statement somewhat silly.
Xiao, on the other hand, held the esteemed position of Person Who Actually Got Stuff Done. You relied on him to get you out of your mental spirals, to pull you out of your room and out of your brain fog and to get you to do something; even if it wasn’t the thing you were thinking about.
In return it was your job to make sure Xiao didn’t get himself killed doing something stupid.
Xiao’s reticence masked an almost supernatural recklessness. Though your partner didn’t own a motorbike, if he had you were completely convinced he’d ride one without a helmet. His almost total disinterest in his own safety was something that you brain shrunk from, and more often than not a crazy plan of his would end with you listing the terrible things that might happen if something were to go wrong, even if those things weren’t always the most realistic.
There was a storm in twenty minutes? It was the perfect time for a walk! There was cavern nearby with tunnels were so tight you had to walk single file? Sure why not!
He would talk about such things as if there was nothing to it, as if it didn’t send your heart rate spiking. There wasn’t the slightest acknowledgment of danger. Even his tone was as gruff as usual, as if it was the most natural thing to want to go mountain climbing, not interesting enough to get even a little excited about.
It was probably good he did martial arts. You didn’t even want to think about where all that energy would go otherwise.
Xiao’s straightforward nature came out in softer ways too, ways that you envied much more than his full-steam-ahead recklessness.
He was never afraid to state what was on his mind. Whether it was correcting a waiter who got his order wrong or telling a rude doormats to fuck off, all these things were natural to him.
To be honest you completely envied that aspect of him, unable go replicate such a mindset in yourself.
When you’d commented on it once Xiao had stared oddly at you. After a moment he told you that he figured it came from his background. Sometimes you had to learn how to say “no” or “that’s wrong” or “you’re a shitty person.”
Just as you tried to curb the most extreme parts of Xiao’s recklessness, so too did Xiao work to bring you out of the spirals your mind went down sometimes, and so did he try to coax you out of the overthinking that kept you from asserting yourself in your life.
Saying you two were complete opposites wouldn’t really be accurate. You shared similar views, similar passions, similar opinions on what mattered. Yet it was true that, in some ways, you complemented one another. And when it came to those traits in which you differed, well you would like to think that your differences just made you stronger as a couple.
Maybe your friends couldn’t understand how you two got together, or why you were so deeply in love with the person you’d chosen to be your partner. But you didn’t care.
You loved Xiao with all your soul, and, at the end of the day, that was all that mattered.
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azucanela · 3 years
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chapter i
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pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
warnings: cursing.
word count: 3k
summary: the internet is enamored with the idea of y/n l/n and bakugou katsuki, two renowned pro heroes, dating. the first issue? the pair rarely interacts. the second issue? apparently, they hate each other, not that anyone knows about that bit. of course, after one night of many mistakes, the whole world knows.
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series masterlist
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Y/N’S HEAD IS POUNDING when she wakes up the following day. Her hand coming to rub her temple as she attempts to soothe the throbbing of her own head, the light just barely seeping through her blinds already feels like too much as she rises up in her bed. Blinking a few times, Y/N’s eyes adjust to the light and she sighs, stretching her arms upwards and almost wincing at the sound of her bones cracking.
You’d think that a Pro Hero wouldn’t have such issues, and yet.
Coming to a stand, Y/N hisses at the feeling of her cold floor, frowning before she makes her way towards the hallway and rubbing a hand against her eye. She catches a look of herself in the mirror, hair amiss, makeup that she’d applied from the night before still on— and yet her eye bags seem to have grown. If Y/N is honest, she looks and feels like a mess.
That should be a given though, seeing as she couldn’t even remember how she’d gotten home last night. Though Y/N was sure the news would detail any screw ups she’d made. Sighing as she grabs the TV remote from the coffee table by her couch and clicks the TV on. 
“You’re fucking kidding me.” She mumbles out when the TV turns on to reveal that she is in fact the headline, alongside Bakugou Katsuki. 
Almost on cue, a set of rapid knocks sound against her door and Y/N already knows who it is, again.
It was an accident, Y/N hadn’t meant to get blackout drunk at a literal Gala filled with several respectable and admirable peers from the Pro Hero world. And she certainly hadn’t meant to speak poorly about one of those peers— well, if she could really call Bakugou that at this point. After all there was a reason she spoke poorly of him.
“He’s an— an ill-mannered, rude, insufferable—” Y/N inhaled deeply as she looked to Lorelai, gesturing her hands vividly as she finally said, “bastard!”
Lorelai stands with a hand pressed against her temple, rubbing it gently as though that would end the headache that Y/N had probably caused with her shenanigans. “I warned you.”  She mumbles out before reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone as Y/N continues to drone on about the young man.
“I ran into him and I was filled with complete and utter rage. Did I do a few questionable things? Yes. Do I regret them—” Y/N sighs, bringing her hands to her face as the news plays in the background before saying, “I do.” 
If Y/N was honest, she wasn’t remorseful at all, not when it was Bakugou they were talking about. But she was embarrassed, she’d acted out like a child and there was no denying it. As much as she disliked the idea, a public apology was probably necessary and a private one to Bakugou was the least she owed him. 
Currently Y/N L/N and Bakugou Katuski were on every headline and front page there were, all because Y/N had elected to get a little too drunk and start talking trash about Bakugou. In the world of Pro Heroes, her word carried a lot of weight, so although it was unprofessional, Y/N had a feeling it was Bakugou’s PR team that was panicking right now. 
"You’re trending.” Comes Lorelai’s words, a hand coming to scratch the back of her neck awkwardly as she looks back up at Y/N, “I suppose that’s good.” 
Y/N had a feeling the people who shipped her with Bakugou were rather devastated upon finding out that the (non-existent) couple that they idolized yet had zero interaction actually hated one another. “Maybe they’ll stop thinking Bakugou and I would ever enter a relationship now.”
Raising a brow, Lorelai looks up to her, typing away at her phone without looking at the keyboard as she replies, “actually they’re shipping you with Pro Hero Deku. They caught quite a few pictures of you two dancing together last night.” Lorelai’s eyes returned to her screen, squinting as she mumbled out, “the Bakugou shippers are disappointed, but they’re still going strong. Something about… enemies to lovers?”
Y/N groans in annoyance, it was beginning to become abundantly clear that nothing good was going to come of this. Not that she expected such a thing, but a girl can hope. With a sigh, she shakes away those thoughts, pushing them to the back of her mind as she looks to Lorelai, “what are we going to do?” 
“I am going to speak with Bakugou’s publicist, and set up a meeting.” Comes Lorelai’s response, bringing the phone to her ear as she made her way towards the door for more privacy. 
Y/N looked to her publicist, brows furrowed, “I don’t want to meet with Bakugou.”
Rolling her eyes, Lorelai gestured to the TV as she replied, “we don’t have much of a choice do we?” Sighing, Lorelai stares at the ringing phone before saying, “you can’t let your issues with Bakugou interfere with your career— you two were bound to work together at some point. Whether you wanted to or not.”
Y/N can easily pick up on the underlying words as Lorelai steps out the door, she’s essentially telling her to suck it up. And though Y/N recognizes that she is absolutely and completely correct— that she unfortunately cannot allow Bakugou’s existence to interfere with her career, that doesn’t mean she can’t be upset about it. 
And besides, avoiding him had gone perfectly fine up until now. Y/N was still wondering what had possessed him to actually attend a public event. Last she’d checked, the boy hated them with a passion, and most of the time they only further damaged his reputation. 
Last night was only more evidence of that fact. 
“You’re right.” Comes Y/N’s words, sighing dejectedly as she sinks further into her couch. “Let me know how it goes.” Even Y/N could recognize that there was no other choice, and well— she had to be mature and realistic about this.
Lorelai steps away, and Y/N finds herself glad that she can’t hear whatever it is the woman is saying as she straightens her posture, sitting up as she crosses her legs on the couch to watch the news. 
“Famed Pro Hero Y/N L/N was caught expressing her true feelings for Bakugou Katsuki, and they certainly weren’t what fans were hoping for.” The woman on the screen leans back in her seat, moving out of the way to gesture to the screen behind her, as she opens her mouth to speak again, Y/N finds herself grabbing the remote and changing the channel with a glare towards the reporter. 
Not that it was her fault, Y/N had a feeling if she had a job with any news station right now, this story would mean everything for her career. But she didn’t, she was a Pro Hero, and she had more important things to do— and even then, weren’t there more important things to report on? 
The screen changes, and this time there’s another woman on the screen, a solemn look on her face as she leans forward on the desk with her hands clasped. “As the anniversary of the villain Stain’s incarceration grows near, civil unrest has begun to worsen. With another copy cat killer on the loose, it seem that people have once again taken to the streets to demand his release, or at least a change in his current life sentence for the murder of—”
Y/N shuts off the TV, grimacing at the reminder of her school years. Each year, crime would spike, so more Pro Heroes would set to work around this time. And each year, the number of casualties for Pro Heroes would practically triple because of all the people that tried to target them. This wouldn’t be the first Stain copy cat they’d seen, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Most of them didn’t last this long though, caught by the police by their first attempt ideally, if not then their first kill.
Y/N had lost good friends to people like that. 
Exhaling deeply, she comes to a stand, pulling out her phone to see she had several unread messages from Lorelai, all of which were in reference to the current… situation they were dealing with. There were— unsurprisingly— a few messages of concern from Izuku that Y/N can’t help but smile at. The boy had always been too kind for his own good. But what did confuse her were the messages from an unknown number, Y/N’s brows furrowed as she moved to open them. 
UNKNOWN ???
It was only a single message, but it still leaves Y/N confused, few people had access to her number, and for some reason she finds it unnerving as she goes to delete the conversation.
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BAKUGOU WISHED HE COULD FORGET the chaos that had been the night before. Alas, every moment was burned into his mind, especially that bit in which Y/N had cursed him out while drunk and maybe something about him trying to fight Deku but that wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary. 
His eyes open to the sound of his alarm, and like clockwork— Bakugou rises from his bed and when his feet hit the floor he’s slipping on a set of house shoes instantly. He’d always been more of the type to live a methodical, routine like, life. Make the bed, cook himself a healthy breakfast if he hadn’t already meal prepped for the week, take a shower, get dressed, go to work. And then do it all over again. 
Bakugou had never felt the need for any spontaneity, seeing as his job provided enough of that. Surprise, there’s a murderer on the loose. Surprise, the murderer targets heroes specifically. Surprise, it's a stain copycat killer. Surprise! He hates Pro Hero Ground Zero more than anything in the world. 
The entirety of last night was not the type of surprise Bakugou was used to. Seeing as his phone is ringing as he tries to make his breakfast, and when he looks to see it’s his publicist— well, that isn’t really something out of the ordinary seeing as Bakugou seems to have a different “scandal” every week. But when the calls don’t stop coming...
Last night was a disaster, it didn’t take a genius to recognize that. Just anyone with a phone and some sort of social media, or a tv that had access to the news. Which was basically everyone nowadays. Bakugou liked to think that he had gone through worse, like when they caught him speaking poorly about Deku— although the boy had assured them that Bakugou meant no harm, and Y/N probably wouldn’t do the same.
Yeah, this was a problem. 
Bakugou had a feeling that if he hadn’t been the person who hired him, his publicist would’ve cursed him out by now. Regardless, the man in question had remained… kind of calm. He was clearly on the verge of some sort of breakdown, staring Bakugou down like a hawk as he sat across from him— hands pressed together as they rested against his chin. The man had arrived shortly after leaving Bakugou about a dozen voicemails.
“How did you manage to piss off one of the most influential women in Pro Hero society?”
Despite being a newer Hero, Y/N had worked alongside several of the Top Pro Heroes already, probably because of her connections with Pro Hero Hawks and her own Charisma, making her one of the most likable of the next generation. That and the fact that she was regarded as a potential Number 1 Hero given the speed she was rising through the ranks. 
Although Bakugou was sure this had damaged her credibility in some sort of way, he had no doubt she’d come back from this, even if he didn’t. After all, he wasn’t necessarily known for his award winning personality. 
In response to his publicist’s question, Bakugou finds himself crossing his arms, shrugging before he replies, “beats me.”
Inhaling deeply, his publicist brings a hand to his temple, rubbing it rather harshly in an attempt to end the major headache that was coming on. “You have no idea? None at all—” One of the other PR assistants is standing beside them once more, the guy had been leaving and coming back for a while actually. This time he seems rather anxious though, “and what the hell do you want?”
“Well— well, sir. You see, we’ve been getting a call from—”
His publicist, Haru Ishida, as Bakugou had come to know him, appears to have a vein popping out of his head as he replies, “I don’t care which major news platform wants to hear what we have to say, tell them the same thing—”
“It’s Ms. L/N’s publicist!” The man cries out, hand pressed against the receiver of the phone to keep said woman from hearing their interaction, face flushed red in embarrassment as he stands straighter and adds, “sir.”
Haru’ jaw drops open as he immediately shoots up from his seat, snatching the phone from the assistants hand and bringing it to his ear before swiftly saying, “Haru Ishida, how can I help you?”
Bakugou gives the man a look, “put it on speaker.” He hisses out.
The man does as he’s told and a woman’s voice fills the room, “I think it’s more of how I can help you, Mr. Ishida.” A pause, “I’d like to set up a meeting between our clients. We can discuss more in person.”
“Hell no.” Bakugou says instantly, seeing as his little reunion with his former classmate yesterday had gone very poorly, Bakugou couldn’t really see a world in which another meeting with Y/N benefitted him in any way. Despite this, his words cause Haru to glare at him, opening his mouth to respond only for Y/N to beat him to it.
“Bakugou.” She muses, “both you and Y/N are experiencing blowback from this.” Comes her words, the sound of typing on the other end of the call as she continues, “but you need us more than we need you. I know Y/N will come back from this, with or without you. But can you say the same about your career?” There’s almost a subtle threat if you read between the lines and it leaves Bakugou cursing under his breath.
If Bakugou was right, this was Lorelai Flores, a renowned publicist though she was rather new to the game. As someone who aspired to be the best, Bakugou initially sought her out. She’d rejected his attempts at hiring her of course, which is why he’d ended up with the second best he could secure. Haru, who was currently inhaling deeply as he replied, “that can be arranged.”
“No it cannot—” Haru ignores Bakugou’s attempt at protesting, simply shooting him a glare before returning his attention to the call.
“Fantastic!” The woman exclaims, “perhaps it can be just you and I, Haru. Clearly our clients aren’t inclined to be anywhere near each other. Of course, if all goes well then I’m sure they’ll be seeing each other plenty.” The sound of a pen scribbling against a paper followed by, “pick me up at 7, you have my address.”
The call ends, and Bakugou’s brow is raised as he looks back to his publicist, who clears his throat before saying, “we’ll come to a consensus sir.”
Meanwhile, the PR assistant from before looks to Haru, “fraternizing with the enemy?”
“I can fire you.” Haru hisses in response, eyes narrowing at the boy before looking back to Bakugou as he straightens himself and collects the paper’s before him, “if you’ll excuse me, I need to prepare for my meeting with Ms. Flores.” He moves to leave, hovering by the door as he says, “by the way, I believe Pro Hero Red Riot is heading this way at the moment.” 
Bringing his hands to his face, Bakugou groans, if he had to guess— Kirishima was going to lecture him, again. He finds himself coming to a stand making his way around the couch, he doesn’t bother to meet Kirishima the door since he’s already making his way inside. At the same time, Bakugou is left to watch as the rest of his PR team is exiting his apartment one by one, taking their equipment with them wordlessly. 
And so, in comes Kirishima, a bright smile on his face as he calls out, “hey Bakubro!” Arms spread wide as he greets his friend, coming to wrap his arms around him. Although Bakugou doesn’t return the hug, he allows the physical contact.
“Hey shitty hair.” Comes his response, mumbled out as he is finally released from Kirishima’s grip. “What do you want?”
With a shrug, Kirishima, steps further inside Bakugou’s apartment, “I figured you might wanna talk—”
“Don’t wanna talk.” Bakugou interrupts, narrowing his eyes at Kirishima. 
Nodding slowly, Kirishima offers him a tight lipped smile, a short silence encompassing them before he says, “but she said some intense stuff so I though—”
“No.” 
“I can talk to her?
“Absolutely not.”
With that, Bakugou found himself wondering how this could possibly get worse at this point, of course, his question would soon be answered seeing as things could definitely get worse.
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Måneskin interview for TVN24 - english translation
Few days ago an interview (on video) with Måneskin came out in Poland on TVN24 channel, sadly its paywalled on their site (and the tv only showed a bit).
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However, I got a transcript of it and decided to translate it for you guys :D
Also, while the interview took place in Poland (day before the Sopot festival), the interviewer knew italian, so they talked in italian and the TV translated it to polish (and dubbed them!!! :( ). So I hope theres nothing that like, got lost in translation twice.
Also its 2am now so the translation might not be the most perfect, but you'll definitely get the gist of what they were saying!!
The whole thing is under the 'keep reading' :)
First of all – congratulations on the San Remo and Eurovision wins! I just want you to know how happy you made my mom – she listens to your music for 3 years now. How are you feeling today?
D: We feel good, tho we’re tired as well. We travel a lot, but we’re happy. We meet new fans, new opportunities are coming up. It’s really nice.
How did you guys meet? When looking at you, you have this sense of unity and just good vibes. How did it all start?
D: We know each other for a long time.
V: Yeah, Since middle school. Me, Thomas and Damiano were playing in different bands, but they weren’t the best. Thet all disbanded. Then we posted in a facebook group ’looking for a musician in rome’ and found Ethan. Since then we started doing music for real. We devoted ourselves to the music, and… the rest just came naturally.
E: Yes. We knew it’s gonna be our life since day one.
What did you say In the post, when looking for the fourth member of the band?
V: I wrote ”looking for a drummer for an indie rock/new wave band”.
E: That’s true, there was new wave in it too.
I’m sure a lot of people replied.
V: No, actually only Ethan replied. But we found that post lately and now it’s full of comments like „why didn’t i reply back then!”
T: Ethan was really lucky.
What did your parents thought about your choice (to pursue music)? A rockstar lifestyle isn’t exactly what every parent wants for their child.
D: No, our parents are really content with it. They know what we do makes us happy, and of course we visit them whenever we can. And they are proud of us as well, because they see we’re happy and independent, travelling all over the Europe, and hopefully all over the world. I think every parent wants their kid to be satisfied and happy.
And friends? Are you still friends with the same people, or did the friendships fell apart?
D: We still have the same friends. And we’re sure that way that they are our real friends.
Do they understand your current lifestyle, that you can dissapear for a year?
V: Yeah, they all understand that this is our job, that our life is a bit irregular, but, like everything, it has its ups and downs.
E: Exactly, they understand, but they also miss us. Sometimes my mom calls and says ”I miss you, you’ve been gone for so long”. It’s normal. But what’s important is that we feel the support from our families and friends. They understand that you need to sacrifice a lot, to achieve a lot.
Can you still easily go ands grab a beer in the Rome neighbourhoods (districts?) of Pigneto or Trastevere? Or is it impossible now?
V: The only truly safe place for us is Trastevere, because we always lived there. Everyone there knows us and they don’t care we’re famous.
D: But I have to admit that since they whole Eurovision thing we still didn’t come back, so it’s hard to say for sure.
T: But let’s say that its a safe space.
Don’t you worry that now that whole world knows you, you’ll be followed by tourists?
V: Oh my god, you’re right, we didn’t think about it!
D: When we came back to Rome for one day I got excited when one tourist stopped me. ”Cool, I got stopped by a tourist” – now it’s normal.
T: It gives us joy.
V: It’s beautiful.
E: Wonderful.
V: We’re not complaining.
D: Long live the tourists!! (that one was kinda weird to translate)
You started by playing on Via Del Corso, now you’re international stars. I’m wondering, do you still feel the same when playing together as before? Do you have fun making music together? Or do you miss the simpler times and would love to go back to Via del Corso and play something spontaneously?
V: No, we’re still spontaneus. It’s really important for us, and we make sure people who work with us understand that. We’re really adamant about it. Music needs to remain beautiful, spontaneus and natural thing for us. We never worked with someone who would write lyrics for us. No one ever told us what we can and cannot do. We still feel the exact same feelings in studio and on stage that we felt when we were just getting started. It’s the purest thing for us. We want to have fun and feel free to express ourselves.
T: Exactly, especially that music is our driving force. Without music, we wouldn't have all the beautiful things we do. We focus only on music, and the rest comes to us.
Let’s imagine a situation where you just started ma king a song, and everyone has a different idea for it. How do you work that out? And who’s idea wins most of the time?
V: There are two options in this situation: we try every idea, and if none works, we throw the song away.
E: It doesn’t work. (that one is kinda untranslateable?)
V: Or we really work on it and fight till the end.
D: Exactly. Sometimes, but that pretty rare, one of us has a particular idea on how to do the song, and manages to convince us (to the idea). but it’s not an order, it’s a dialogue. An attempt to make everyone think the same way. I need to say that it was much harder in the past, because we were still searching for our sound, and each tried to push the rest into their way of thinking. But now we’re more aware of what we want to create, so it’s coming out in much more natural way.
E: Faster.
D: Not really faster, because it takes a lot of time to create new songs, but it’s easier, we don’t argue that much anymore.
T: It’s really cool, because everyone gives something from themselves to the song. (my brain kinda blanked here, sorry xD) Just like Damiano said, there are days when Vic has one idea for a song, I have another idea, Damiano has his own idea, Ethan as well… But it’s a whole creative process where we all contribute, and it’s pretty stimulating.
D: Everyone feels appreciated. It’s really important when it’s four of us.
What are the biggest signs that you became huge international stars?
V: We really realize that when we’re having concerts. Where we can see our audience and we can see that people really care about us. That they took time and money to listen to us. Now that we’re travelling across Europe, the amount of people stopping us on the streets really shows how many people know about us. People are waiting for us in front of our hotels. We didn’t think it would be like that. But we feel nothing but affection and warmth from them.
How was Eurovision for you from the backstage? Anything atypical?
D: No, it was all great. We played ping-pong.
V: Did rehearsals.
E: Interviews.
D: Yes, interviews. And ping-pong.
When you we’re in Paris, did anyone mention the drug allegations that came from French people during the finale, that kinda became a diplomatic incident?
D: Yeah, you could say that it was mentioned.
They don’t resent you? Or maybe you resent France?
D: No. To feel that about the whole country would be too much of a generalization. Of course there were people who were really vocal about it, but we don’t feel any sort of resentment. It’s in the past for us. We knew they were just primitive accusations. We did what it deserved – talked a bit about it, I volunteered to do the test, and they (the accusators) were sure it had to be false. It got ridiculous, so we just stopped talking about it. We want to talk about out music, our art. The rest is just meaningless.
Right now, LGBTQ rights are a hot topic both in Italy and in Poland. You mentioned freedom of being different and being yourself on several occasions. Do you think you can change the world on this matter as musicians?
D: Maybe not change the world, but we can definitely contribute. Speak the voice of those who can’t. We have a huge following on social media, on stage, on TV, so we feel responsibility to talk about what’s important to us. We hope that something will change because of us, but we don’t consider ourselves as the ones to set the standards of justice and change. We do what we can do, and if we know enough about it, we talk about it. We don’t want to put someone elses words into ours mouths.
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heyyylittlemo · 3 years
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Small details in 19 Days that keep me up at night
((That I feel rarely gets talked about))
-Mo Guan Shan & The Zodiac Magazine
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This chapter was pretty early on in 19days—So that must mean Mo Guan Shan has done this a lot more since, right??😳 and he didn’t even rlly know HT that well at this point so...he must be in heat on the low for HT by now 🥵🥵
So it canonically confirms at least a base physical attraction from the start—and c’mon if this isn’t the most relatable thing ever. Soon as I get an attraction to someone I’m a bit piqued to find out their zodiac. Mo Guan Shan’s hidden curiosity for HT is lwk so cute.
It def suggests that MGS has an under the surface lvl (where he can’t even detect it) pull to understand and get closer to HT.
Mo Guan Shan dreaming of He Tian
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I know it was passed off like a “joke” and a “nightmare” but cmon this gay as hawlll
Who DOESN’T dream of their crush?? Dreams usually are about things we heavily think about and/or what we thought about before bed—and I can’t help but to think OX was onto smth
Not to mention, this has high bottom-denial energy. Literally. Like he was soooo trying to avoid getting a shot at the docs bc it was in his ass, why??? Like sir...ur fragile masculinity that was created from ur inner homophobia towards ur own bottom reality was def crashing at that second
N Why he got pain in his tushy??? In this dream?? N ppl bullying him like that abt it lmaoo who irl be saying those things?? Things like “aren’t in the guy who got a shot in ur ass” and “haha I’d like to see you with ur ass in the air~” even tho the translation and the way it was written can be said to mean that these bullies are literally finding it funny that his ass was in the air I have a feeling it was censored and rephrased to hint at its actual implications,, I feel like these guys were actually trying to jokingly solicit Mo in gay acts thru him bottoming—in reaction to the needle butt-scenario. I feel like OX wants us to read between the lines.
And if you see it that way, it really makes it seem like Mo is having a sexuality crisis here. And I think it’s what OX was building up to around that time bcuz it was around after the kiss happened.
It rlly makes me believe MGS genuinely thinks getting a shot in his ass will somehow societally and with unspoken words “expose” him and miraculously express to others that he likes it up the ass—bcuz u cannot tell me that dream and what those bullies were saying weren’t his damn paranoia demons talking
I think a dream interpreter could stretch it enough to say that the bullies are a metaphor of his own insecurities towards his homosexuality and particularly towards his upcoming bottoming feelings. Like he’s legit scared of a hospital needle in his butt—this is not straight behavior. And then we have He Tian to the rescue—(and do you see his look and his flirtatious line) and omg he’s gripping the shit out of his ass in the dream. He’s both being bullied for his bottom-ness and guilty-pleasure getting one rubbed out by He Tian. Like ok, have ur cake and eat it then bitch.
Mo Guan Shan Staring at He Tian
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This was a moment leading up to the kiss. MGS was staring (probably admiring while also judging and heating up over HT) He Tian while he was playing BSKTBall—and As a BL writer myself can’t help but to think HT noticed MGS very not-straightly stare at him with a sort of sexual attraction he had towards him on the field.
Like cmon?? I doubt OX writes lines like these for no reason.
I feel like...at least irl...The eyes usually give it away if someone is interested in you or not. you can always see if someone is checking you out and noticing you in a different light like it just has different vibe and feel to it. OX was def trying to show and not tell with this panel that MGS has noticed HT and stares at him in the way we all hope he does. We don’t really get to see and (and I guess it keeps us on our toes and keeps us wondering if the little redhead could actually be falling for HT)—so it’s very subtle, but it is there, and once you notice it you’re like d a m n this makes the kiss scene so much more hopeful (at least for me).
I think this was the push that gave HT hopes to kiss MGS in the first place and it gets overlooked. How do you think HT own curiosity peeked? I think as a community we often think abt Mo and how he developed feelings or will develop feelings for HT but rarely do we ever questions The Who what when where and how He Tian came to like Mo himself. I have my own feelings about them that I can’t explain in this post, least it gets off-topic, but I think it’s very important.
I think his comment “Do I really disgust you that much” makes more sense in this context, of MGS giving HT some reassurance through non-verbal ques. HT was already under the impression that MGS was egging him on with his staring so it can warrant some of He Tian’s confusion. HT probably is pursuing MGS bc he probably senses some lvl of homosexual tension from Mo, and it’s exciting to him. Not only that, but MGS is exciting in his character. So I think HT was also relatively new to this venture and kinda spontaneously kissed Mo out of his own curioustes to explore their attractions and to get a grasp of what Mo was feeling.
It also makes me think HT and MGS experienced some undeniable pleasure or unspoken moment that could not be denied within the kiss as attraction and when MGS then decided to go agaisnt that with violence it only further hit HT, who knew MGS was lying to himself. I mean, it’s a classic BL moment. The two kiss, obviously feel smth (probably couldn’t show much of that due to censorship so had to pass it along as a 100% unsatisfactory exchange) and then one, feeling too much all at once and isn’t comfortable with their confirmed suspensions abt their sexuality—denies everything to the other causing further tensions especially sense both know how eachother really feel despite the others denial. And then the rejected one downplays the kiss’ seriousness to soothe their ego knowing full well the kiss meant smth. So they both internalize what the other said and both feel rejected, but both actually liked it. It’s a classic.
I truly feel that if it wasn’t due to censorship, that the kissing scene would’ve looked a lot more consensual than so forceful and wrong. Like it would’ve been taken as an tension filled “experimentation” that we see a lot in BLs and it only further ties into why MGS would be so bashful whenever the kiss is mentioned, and why HT can use it As a leverage over Mo (“don’t make me kiss you again”) bcuz it brings them back to thy moment where HT experienced some “answer” between Mo and that answer was fulfilling even tho it cannot be fulfilled and probably HT is hoping that maybe one day if he teases him enough about it they can share another kiss one that is a lot less rushed and now that they are closer, will lead to a better result.
Anyways those are my speculations. And I actually have written a short story based on these assumptions(focused on the kiss—and it’s also leading up to a jealously fic) but ofc I haven’t written it in ahwile haha. Just thought it was worth sharing since I noticed 19 days has been updating pretty “eh” lately.
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monicashipslokius · 3 years
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Our Two Minutes
 Time used to be a commodity that Mobius had in spades, back when things worked different in the TVA. Lately, though, with the fall of the sacred timeline and general new disorder of things - well, Mobius wouldn’t pass up just a few extra minutes to take a breath.
Loki doesn’t seem to mind, seems to thrive on the chaos. Minutemen running around. Time-doors opening and closing here, there, everywhere. Fires cropping up when you least expect it, some of which Mobius suspects Loki might be starting. Their usual research table in the library is a little too out of the way of most things to be a coincidence when it goes up in flames.
Not that Mobius minds seeing Loki in their element, especially with their magic back. They wear mischief like a second skin, along with those clever eyes and that easy smile. Though Mobius just wishes he wasn’t seeing it here at the potential end of all things.
Loki and Mobius are watching the branching trees on the timeline monitor when a report of a new fire comes in. This time in the cafeteria. A vat of salad has spontaneously combusted.
Mobius shoots Loki a flat look.
“What?” Loki asks.
Mobius sighs, but doesn’t have it in him to be mad. Loki’s been like this - a little bit brighter, maybe too bright - since they rejoined Mobius at the TVA. Mobius doesn’t totally understand. Obviously something bad happened out there past the void. But they can’t seem to find two minutes - just two minutes - to talk about it.
Nor what happened after.
Mobius has pieced some of it together: the way Loki fell through the time door, dead on their feet. The weary look they gave Mobius almost like they expected him to say something, he didn’t know what, but something wrong. How when Mobius recognized them, called their name, they pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, even as the library burned around them.
“It’s you,” Loki said then. “It’s finally you.”
“You can’t have salad for lunch everyday,” Loki says now. “Variety is the spice of life.”
“You stole that from a Hallmark card,” Mobius says. Before Loki can reply, he pushes forward, back on task, “We have to focus here. This could be the end of... I don’t know, everything.”
“Everything?”
“Timeline war. Mass annihilation?”
Loki hums. The way you would when your ice cream falls off the cone. Not, perhaps, the most appropriate reaction for the end of all life, past, present, and future.
“Loki.” Mobius turns to them, because while he is enjoying seeing Loki so... Loki, he’s also starting to get a bit concerned. Loki’s not known for being apathetic. Caring too much is sort of their M-O. At least for things worth caring about. Which Loki used to think this was.
“Yes, Mobius?” They continue to watch the screen, where the lines branch and branch and branch, too many now, numbers in the seven-digit mark.
Two minutes. That’s all Mobius would need. It’s all he hasn’t found.
Maybe he should make it.
Mobius places his hand on Loki’s shoulder, drawing their attention. They look at him, see his expression, and their smile dims. Mobius hates that he did that, but...
“This is a big deal. Cataclysmic stuff,” he says.
“Yes. Of course.”
Mobius turns toward them fully. “Don’t take this wrong. It’s great seeing you smile. But you get we’re probably going to die horribly? That’s definitely in the cards for us.”
Loki’s smile returns, but it’s softer. They laugh a little. “Mobius,” they say, and despite the laugh, the name holds a new, heavy weight that Mobius doesn’t understand. “You have no idea how long I have traveled to be here.” They shake their head. “I never thought I’d get here."
Mobius’s throat goes dry. “How long?”
Loki waves a hand. “Time is difficult to track between timelines.”
Timelines. Plural. “How many timelines?”
Loki’s smile vanishes entirely. The veil comes down in their eyes, and Mobius can see the age there. This is his Loki, but older. So much older. And so, so tired.
The thought of his Loki, a lone traveler through time, stakes straight through Mobius’s heart. Loki’s aren’t meant to be alone. They need family, and friends. They need love.
“So you can see why I have found fresh optimism,” they say, “Now that I have found you again.”
Found you. They can’t mean that. Not like that.
Loki looks back to the monitor, but Mobius isn’t done. Two minutes or twenty, to hell with time. This feels the most important now.
It’s selfish and silly, but maybe Mobius wants some of that optimism too.
“Loki, you could have stopped somewhere. I’m sure there’s another timeline that’s close enough -”
“No.”
Mobius swallows hard. Because with Sylvie in the wind and the void out of reach, the only thing in this timeline that Loki might even bother caring about is him.
Mobius knows he’s a smart enough guy, knows a lot about Loki’s, good at piecing things together most of the time. But thinking that Loki might have traveled for eons looking just for him is a bridge too far, no matter how the cards line up.
“There were probably other variants of me,” Mobius says and watches Loki stiffen. Another card in the line. “Maybe more agreeable ones. Prettier ones. Hey, did any have a jetski?”
He says it to get a smile. What he doesn’t expect is the absolute glower that paints Loki’s face, or the way they shift it toward Mobius like they might light him on fire next.
“You cannot be replaced,” Loki says, serious as a heart attack.
“Huh.” Another card falls into place. Mobius thinks of the long line of them, and knows he can’t ignore them anymore. Doesn’t want to. “Careful,” he says, prodding. “A guy might get the wrong idea.”
“Mobius,” Loki says, and they puff themselves up like they might say something more. But then they sigh and look back to the monitor.
Mobius doesn’t think he’s wrong about this, but he’d never push Loki, not in this. So he looks at the monitor too.
More and more branching. Imminent death, certainly.
Beside him, Loki speaks softly, “Is it so terrible a proposal? The idea of you and me?”
“I guess it depends who you ask.” In his chest, Mobius’s heart hammers, but he forces calm cheer to steady his voice. “If you ask me, no. Not terrible. The opposite of that, actually. Great. Fantastic. Amazing. Best idea of your life, and I know you’ve had plenty.” He shrugs. “But like I said, depends who you ask.”
“I...” They clear their throat, and when they speak again, it’s stronger. “I would agree.”
“With which part?” Mobius dares a glance at Loki and finds them staring back.
“All of it.” Their smile returns. “End of all things. Not the best time to start a courtship.”
“I disagree.” Mobius turns toward them. “Sounds like a great first date.”
Loki laughs, and Mobius feels lighter. The optimism is contagious.
Mobius holds out his hand and Loki takes it. They step closer. Closing their eyes, they press their cheek to Mobius’s. They whisper, “I will not be parted from you again.”
Mobius’s chest clenches tightly. “Exactly how many timelines did you go through, Loki?”
“Too many,” Loki says into Mobius’s ear. “But not near half of what I would, to return to you.”
Mobius rests a hand on Loki’s hip. “You must really like this folksy dope.”
Loki hums again, less lost ice cream, more fake consideration for a question you already know the answer to. “I’ll tell you a secret.”
“Please do.”
Loki noses the corner of Mobius’s neck and jaw. Mobius closes his eyes, certain he’s going to like this secret.
Assured, when Loki says, “I love him.”
The timelines continue to branch. They should probably care about that. And they will.
In a minute or two.
But first -
Mobius turns his head toward Loki and Loki kisses him.
101 notes · View notes
fukurodianthus · 3 years
Text
Its just skin
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Synopsis: Self-love is not something that comes to you naturally. Years of self-depreciation makes it difficult to grow into the habit of loving yourself despite of the scars peppered across your skin.
But with your fiancé, Tooru Oikawa, you find yourself stealing glances into mirrors quite often. It catches you by surprise when you find yourself...beautiful?
Pairing: Tooru Oikawa X fem!reader
Genres: tooth-rotting fluff , a lil bit of angst thrown in
Word count: 2.2k
Warnings: The reader suffers from body positivity issues and insecurities regarding her appearance.
Author’s note at the end!
(p.s. didnt proof read because im ✨lazy✨ might do it later when im feeling cute idk)
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“Y/N-chan, can we leave already? We’re getting late for the party” Oikawa whined, tugging the sleeve of your shirt lightly.
“Tooru, stop being so impatient!” You pushed your whiny fiancé away and concentrated on covering up the acne scars and freckles peppered across your face with layers of concealer. No matter how much you tried, you could never make your skin look half as perfect as that of the girls who dominated your Instagram and YouTube feed. Every time you looked in the mirror, the taunting voices of your family members and friends would creep into your mind.
Oh my god! Whats wrong with your face?
Don’t you wash your face properly?
You’re never going to get married if you look like that Y/N! Do something about that face of yours!
Do you want me to recommend a good dermatologist to you?
No matter what the topic of the conversation was, people always found a way to bring up the topic of your skin condition in it. You could be talking about quantum physics for all they cared, they would somehow find a way to bring up the topic of your skin.
But they didn’t know all those sleepless nights you had spent on the internet looking for remedies, they didn’t know how you cried yourself to sleep every night, praying that you’ll somehow find that your skin had magically healed up when you woke up. But miracles didn’t happen in this world. At least for you, they didn’t.
You spent a humongous chunk of your salary buying medicines, serums, anything skincare specialists would recommend to you. But none of it could you fix you. Ultimately it all ended up in the trash and you ended up on the bathroom floor, sobbing as you looked into the mirror, face contorted with disgust and self-loathing.
But then, Oikawa Tooru stepped into your life. The first person who didn’t grimace as he looked at your face. He looked at it with childish wonder in his eyes, as if he was looking at something…beautiful?  Every night, when you fell asleep in his arms, his fingers softly grazing your cheeks, you felt an unfamiliar warmth blossom inside your heart. If he could love you despite your flaws, what was stopping you from doing it?
But years of self-depreciation made it difficult to develop the habit of loving yourself. There are still moments when you found you yourself drowning in self-hatred.
Take the present moment, for instance.
No matter how much concealer you caked on your face, it didn’t look half as good as you wanted it to. You let out a frustrated groan as you plopped down on the bed. How could you go to the party looking like this, especially when Oikawa would be by your side? Everyone’s appearance paled in comparison to his flawless beauty. Then how could you, of all people, ever stand beside him as an equal? You knew everyone would be comparing you with him behind your back, their jealousy-tinged voices emphasizing on how someone like you didn’t deserve to be with him. You’d always be an undeserving lover for him in their eyes.
“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Oikawa’s voice was laced with heavy concern. “Do you feel sick? I told you to not eat that expired candy bar last night, but you didn’t listen-”
“Tooru, its not that. I think I look very fucking ugly right now and I can’t bear to look at myself in the mirror. I can’t go to the party right now, not when I’m feeling like this.” You buried your face in a soft cushion and let out a frustrated groan as you turned over on the bed.
“Y/N, did you start putting yourself down again?” You felt him plopping down beside you on the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“Tooru, don’t lie to me, my skin still looks just as bad as ever.”
“You know, sometimes I wonder if astral projections are real.”
“What? Have you finally lost it?” Your widened eyes searched his face, trying to make sense of his words.
“If it was real, then I’d pull your soul out of your body make you look at your face through my eyes. Because there’s clearly something very fucking wrong with your eyes if you cannot see how damn pretty you are.” Tooru huffed, looking at you nonchalantly as if he was stating the obvious.
“Tooru-” you whimpered, turning on your side to face him.
Tooru and his horrible pickup lines.
Gosh, how can I not love him?
His chocolate-brown eyes softened as he pulled you into his chest. The sound of his heartbeat drowned all the cacophony of all the negative thoughts cluttering your mind.
“Y/N, I thought love at first sight was way too cheesy and corny to be real. But then, one day, back in high school, I saw Iwa-chan talking to you. You looked so fucking pretty, you know? The way you’d bite your lips when you were confused, the way you’d look down and let your hair cover your face whenever you were flustered, it was so damn adorable. I might have gone down on my knees right then, if Iwa-chan hadn’t been there. He’d beat the living crap out of me for playing my ‘disgusting tricks’ on his friend.” Oikawa took your hands in his and slowly drew circles on your palm with his thumb.
“Iwa wouldn’t have to beat you up, I’d do it without a second thought if you pulled any of that shit on me. I always found you very bratty, clinging to Iwa with that radioactive sweet smile of yours.”
“Wow, I was head over heels in love with you on first sight, while your first impression of me was that I’m a brat? No wonder you were Iwa-chan’s friend, you both are so mean.” He pouted, looking at you with playful annoyance.
“That was before I got to know you. Your brattiness started growing on me, gradually. Now I’m so used to it, I think I’d forget how to breathe if I didn’t hear your annoying voice every morning.” You chuckled at how his face kept getting redder with every insult that you threw at him.
“You’re used to my brattiness? Are you implying I’m still a brat?”
“Exactly. Looks like you do have a brain.”
“The most amazing setter on this planet doesn’t have a brain, is that what you’re trying to say?”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but instead of asking me out on a date directly, you bugged Iwa to set us up on a date until he finally shouted at you in the middle of an English class, saying ‘Alright, Shittykawa, I’ll set you up on a date with Y/N, now stop running that fucking stupid mouth of yours.’ " You stole a glance at his face, savoring his flustered expression. "I’m right, am I not?”
Oikawa’s face reddened to the extent where it seemed that he would spontaneously combust at any moment.
"Tooru, c'mon, we both were emotionally constipated fools who could never ask each other out if Iwa hadn't stepped in." You softly ran your hands over his chest, savoring the warmth radiating from him. "Now stop pouting Brattykawa."
"You and Iwa-cha, both of you can never appreciate me before backtracking, huh?" He ran his fingers through your tangled hair, slowly massaging your scalp.
He knew it always calmed you down.
"Hey, did you really find me pretty that day?" You mind went back to how you looked the day when Oikawa first saw you. Greasy hair stuck to your face, cavernous dark circles covering your under eyes, face swollen as a result of pulling all nighters for a whole week. How could anyone, let alone Oikawa find you pretty when you looked like that?
"Can you not hold a conversation for 5 seconds without putting yourself down, huh?"
" I dont think I can Tooru. It still weirds me out that you, of all people found me beautiful when I looked like such a mess."
"Y/N I think we really need to try astral projections now-"
"Tooru, I'm serious-" You whined.
He chuckled, twilring your hair in his fingertips. "Y/N, after being with you for so long, I've realized something. You look for validation in the eyes of people who couldn’t care less about you. But when finally, someone who really cares for you and sees you as who you are tells you that they are truly beautiful, you brush it off. Why do you pretend that our compliments aren't heartfelt? Why are you so scared of being appreciated?"
Every day, when he saw you stealing glances into the mirror, he noticed how disappointment flashed across your face. He knew how you beat yourself up for not being pretty enough. You were never enough for yourself.
If your mind was a place, he’d waltz into it, shredding the self-destructive thoughts gnawing at you sanity into pieces. He’d untangle the mess inside your head, shattering the walls that bars genuine compliments reach your heart.
Oikawa wasn’t the best with words, not at times like this. But he’d give it his best.
He could feel the wet spots blossoming on his shirt, as you buried your face deeper into his chest.
"Oi!  You dummy! Are you crying?"
"To-Tooru I just think th-that I d-don’t deserve your love because I'm not as good looking as-" You choked out in between an onslaught of sobs.
“Hey. Hey, look at me.” He cupped your flushed cheeks and lifted your chin up, his eyes scanning your face in concern.
“Those fucking stupid scars on your face don’t define who you are, okay? Its just skin, Y/N, you are so much more than just…a piece of skin, you know? Honestly, we’re all just bags of flesh and bones if you look at it that way. Do you think I loved you because you were a particularly pretty bag of flesh and bones?” Even though you found his analogy slightly funny, you noticed how his face lit up with passion so you refrained from making any sarcastic comments. He was trying his best.
“Continue, Tooru. I’m listening.”
“I love you because of who you are. I love the way your lashes flutter when we stargaze on the roof every night, I love you how your hair is a tangled mess when you wake up, I love how your puff your cheeks in annoyance when I stop you from over-drinking coffee every night, I love how you whine when you spend hours trying to get your eyeliner right, only to end up smudging it when you rub your eyes absent-mindedly, I love how your eyes light up when I put an extra spoonful of Nutella in your sandwich…gosh, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
Your grip on his hoodie tightened. He looked at you, breathlessly, scanning your face for a reaction.
Your stared at your reflection in his chocolate-brown eyes, struggling to find the right phrases to express the way his words made you feel. You felt your heart race as if it was beating in pace with a rhythm set in by a drug-induced ecstasy.
What would you call this feeling of warmth that washed over you with every syllable he uttered?
“Thank you.” You wondered if you could’ve said anything better to express how much his words meant to you. God, where were a the fancy words you had learnt from corny YA romance books when you needed them?
But he didn’t need to hear your words to know that you’d been moved by his words. Fancy phrases could never tell him what the faint rosy glow of your cheeks could.
“Stop thanking me for stuff like this. It’s my duty, Y/N. I’m your fiancé for fuck’s sake.”
“You’re such a sap Tooru.” You giggled, squishing his cheeks softly.
“Yeah but you’re hopelessly in love with this sap, so deal with it.” His grip around your waist tightened as he nuzzled his face on your neck, his hot breath fanning across your collarbones.
“Now let me go Shittykawa, we have a party to attend.” You pried his arms off your waist and sat up.
“Babe, we’re about to get married in a few months, you really need to drop that stupid nickname.”
“Hmm, let me think.” Cocking your head to your side, you pretended to be immersed in deep thought. “Nope, not happening.”
“Don’t blame me for what happens next.” Oikawa sat up and tackled you to the bed, pinning your wrists by your side.
“Ooh, now that’s hot, Tooru”
“You know whats hotter Y/N?”
“What?”
“This.” He didn’t give you a chance to respond as his hands slid down to your waist. Your breath hitched in anticipation.
And then he started tickling you.
You broke out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter, kicking him, trying to get him to stop.
Two minutes later, you both lay side by side, panting, faces flushed with breathless fits of laughter.
You caught a glance of your face in the bedside mirror.
Even with your reddened face, tangled hair and smudged mascara, you looked…beautiful.
You felt beautiful.
As you nuzzled your face on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat rumbling in your ears, his words kept replaying in your mind.
“Its just skin, Y/N.”
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Author’s note: ahhhhh I kinda wrote this in a flow?? Its a comfort fic/drabble???Idk what this is tbh. This is very self indulgent because I’ve suffered from skin problems(cystic acne ugh🤢) all my life, so I decided to comfort myself through this fic 🥺👉👈 . If only I had an Oikawa in my life 😩✋
N E ways, drink water, get enough sleep(lmao the irony that I’m saying this-) and remember to love yourself because you are beautiful!😤❤️I’ll come for your kneecaps if you put yourself down🤩🔪.
Reblogs would be highly appreciated!
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233 notes · View notes
30secondstoanime · 3 years
Text
The Birthday Present
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pairing: Pro!Hero Midoriya x Fem!Reader
genre/warnings: Reader Insert, Birthday Sex
Kinky Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku Gets Out of His Comfort Zone, That's Not How You're Supposed to Use Your Quirk, Porn With Plot, praise kink?, very smutty, Rough Sex, role-playing, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Teasing, Light Bondage, Light Masochism, Light Choking, Doggy Style, Fluff and Smut, after sex cuddles
word count: 7,467
→ summary: Your birthday is around the corner. What better gift than your boyfriend, the #1 Hero Deku, finally giving you what you want the way you want it: rough and kinky. But first plot!
a/n: Sorry about the crap summary and title, I'm working on that lol. So this is my first fic for the bnha fandom and first attempt at writing very explicit sex scenes and venturing into kinks/BDSM, so please be kind, but also I’d love feedback! This was supposed to be a cute four-page oneshot but turned into a sixteen-page, 7k+ word behemoth, hence the self-indulgent tag ‘cause I couldn't stop writing. I hope you enjoy the fruits of my labor ;)
In a few days, you’ll be turning twenty-four. Your birthday has always been an odd day you think for someone with your quirk because age really was just a number. That’s not to say you weren’t planning to do something fun, at least if you could figure out what you’d like to do. Okay, so that was a lie. You knew exactly what or should you say who you wanted to do and that it involved getting your back blown out. As soon as the thought pops into your head, your epiglottis forgets its job, and you choke on the sip of UCC coffee, you had tried to swallow. You cough to clear your airway, gasping when air finally expands your lungs. You tap your pen nervously against your desk, eyes scanning the other pro heroes’ faces in your agency. It seems your sudden outburst hadn’t disrupted the comfortable silence of the natural lull of the workday. A beep from your hero pager pulls your attention away from people watching in the office. Coordinates flash in five consecutive seconds before the transmission ends. You stand grabbing your toolbelt and strapping it across your hips; you make your way to the front. As you near the exit, you hear your hero name being called. You turn and see Yaomomo briskly walking towards you.
“Hey Creati, you got the page too?”
“I did, sounds like they’ve made a bit of a mess of things.” You scoff good-naturedly.
“When do they ever not. Were they really like this during your time at U.A.?” She giggles and nods her head. You wonder if you’ll ever stop cleaning up after the nation’s top three heroes.
“Better get going then, we both know they share a singular brain cell, so there’s no telling how much time we have to fix things.”
“Atomic!” You laugh at Yaomomo’s weak attempt to scold you — the amusement in her black eyes softens the tone.
              −−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−
“Oh my.”
You blow out a low whistle. Ice and scorch marks are scattered across the street and surrounding buildings. Explosive ash is still gently falling from the sky, and black tendrils are haphazardly keeping electric poles, exposed building foundation, and an abundance of wrecked vehicles from collapsing.
“Creati, check the building foundations. Create new beams and weld them together if necessary. I’ll get started on the pole, we can’t have a live electric wire falling.” She nods, and you split off. The work is slow and arduous, but the orderly nature of reorganizing and coaxing atomic particles back into place helps the time pass quickly. You’ve just finished rearranging the anatomical structure of a car hanging from a, thankfully, undamaged light pole, so that it falls to the ground weightlessly. You touch the damaged side, pull it back together, and return the car to its original density. You give the car a quick tap with the toe of your foot to test the structural integrity, satisfied you step back taking in your handiwork. What had a few hours ago looked like a DEFCON 3 military mission gone awry is now back to looking like an ordinary Japanese street. Well, as normal as you and Yaomomo could reconstruct — you weren’t miracle workers, and Ground Zero’s explosive residue was hard to get rid of. Instead, the way it collected and hung in the atmosphere made it difficult for your quirk to erase without condensing the air. That was out of the question unless you wanted to suffocate Yaomomo. Which you didn’t, so the employees of these buildings would be dealing with the smell for at least a week. Sighing, you tuck your hands in your pockets and make your way over to Creati. Her welding mask obscures her face, but you know it’s in deep concentration. After she cuts the torch and pushes the protective gear up, she gives you a smile.
“All done?”
“Just about.”
“I’ll page H.Q. Might even lodge a formal complaint against those three bird brains while I’m at it.”
“(Y/N), you can’t be serious.” She shoots you an incredulous look.
“They make this huge ass mess and don’t even bother to wait for us to arrive before dipping. Total dick move.”
“Ah-huh.” You don’t like the teasing note in her voice.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing.” You cross your arms defensively.
“Spit it out, Yaoyorozu.”
“You sure your foul attitude has nothing to do with not seeing Deku?” You roll your eyes.
“I’ll see him at home like I do every day. So no, I’m not upset about not seeing him.”
“If you say so.” She gives you a look, and you let out an exasperated puff of air.
“You cannot still be stuck on that!”
“Hmm? What do you mean?” She bats her eyes at you innocently while creating a duffle bag to transport the welding equipment.
“That God awful theory you and Ashido have about me having a hero kink for Izuku." You begin to walk side by side back to the agency. You hand her an energy bar from your utility belt.
“I mean, you do get very flushed whenever you see him on patrol. Like, if it were a hentai video, you’d definitely be drooling with your tongue lolling out of your mouth.”
“Ugh!” You shove her with your shoulder. “That is so gross.” Both of you laugh, and after a small lapse into silence, you give.
“Okay fine. I might get instahorny whenever I see Izuku in costume, but I can’t help it. He just looks so good, and it’s heightened because I know what he looks like out of costume, and then all I want to do is jump his bones, but of course, I don’t because propriety. So I’m left with all this pent up sexual frustration!”
“So, are you going to ever mention this to him? Your birthday is in a few days and if I may be so bold —”
“It’s never stopped you.” You mumble under your breath with a smile.
“I’d suggest you request it be your birthday present.”
“Pfft. Yaomomo, we’ve been together almost a year and a half, and while our sex life is fucking phenomenal, I’m talking multiple orgasms almost every time, amazing — it’s been very strictly vanilla. Not from any lack of trying on my end, but every time I’ve tried to spice things up, he gets as close as humanly possible to spontaneous combustion. Don’t even get me started on the one time I tried to get him to choke me while I —”
“(Y/N)! Stop, goodness, I do not need the play by play of your and Izuku’s sex life. I just,” she massages her temples, “wanted to make a suggestion. While I’m relieved you feel so secure in our friendship to be so open, please remember I went to high school with him. He’s like a little brother.”
“Oh, Yaomomo, there’s nothing little about him.” Her face pales, and you can’t stifle your cackle. It quickly becomes a full-blown laugh that rattles through your body.
“I went a little too far with that last comment, gomen. On a serious note, though, how would I even go about asking him? ‘Hey babe, it’s my birthday so I want you to fuck me until my knees are jello while in your hero costume because it gets me all hot and bothered oh and since I’m risking it all I’d love it if you tied me up and maybe choked me too.’”
You glance over your shoulder, a look of profound regret is plastered over Yaomomo’s face. You give her an impish grin.
“Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue does it.”
“Oh (Y/N).” Your friend shakes her head. When you finally turn the corner onto the street, your hero agency is housed, you catch sight of a mop of green hair. You pick up your pace, a mischievous grin on your face. Using your quirk, you redistribute your mass, so your footfall’s noise against the pavement is silenced. Izuku is talking with someone, his back turned to you. The goods were on display. When he’s in reach, you stretch out your arms, hands cupping his butt you feel him stiffen as you whisper against his ear.
“You’re under arrest for transporting illegal buns of steel.” You watch the blush creep up from his neck before capturing his entire face. He turns his neck, trying to get a good look at you.
“Wh-what!” You begrudgingly let go of his ass, and he turns his body to face you, his freckles standing out against the pink hue of his flustered expression.
“Sorry hun, I don’t make the rules.” You shrug your shoulders.
“I- I, (Y/N) that’s not even a legal penal code! A-and there’s no way I could transport enough steel on my person to warrant a body search.”
“Ooh Deku,” you loosen up the state of your atoms, allowing them to vibrate in mock arousal, “I love it when you talk legal code at me. Repeat it: penal.”
He flounders for a reply, mouth agape at a total loss for words. You giggle at his expression, a total deer in headlights. The person he’d been talking to finally makes themselves known.
“Atomic, you’re still teasing the living soul out of Deku per usual. Glad to know things haven’t changed ‘round here.” His shark tooth smile pulls an equally toothy smile from you.
“Eijiro! When did you get back? I’ve missed you.” You rush to the redhead, and he reciprocates your hug, holding you tight.
“Man, I’ve missed you too (Y/N). The States were cool, but there’s no manlier place than home sweet home.” You pull back and take him in. He looks the exact same if not a little bit more tanned.
“Damn straight.” Yaoyorozu arrives at the end of your reunion. Her excitement at seeing her old friend is nearly palatable. They catch up enthusiastically, and you saddle up next to your boyfriend, who’s finally gotten his blush under control.
“Hey, babe.” You give his cheek a chaste kiss, and he smiles.
“Hey, love,” Izuku gives your hand a squeeze, “How was your day?”
“It was pretty run of the mill except for the utter shitstorm Yaomomo and I had to clean up in Minato City.” You glance down and watch his feet shuffle from side to side.
“Huh, sounds pretty epic.”
“Not the first, second, or even the third word I’d use, but we’re all entitled to our opinions. And don’t you try acting coy with me, Izuku! That blonde ticking time grenade, the confused weather pattern, and your quirk were all over that place.” Izuku gulps.
“I expended a lot of energy cleaning up after you and your friends baka. As compensation, you’ve gotta cook me curry rice. Deal?”
He kisses your cheek in assent.
“Great!” You beam. “I’m gonna go change, be back in fifteen.” You disappear through the agency’s massive double doors. Yaomomo watches until you’re out of view before she walks over to Midoriya.
“So about (Y/N) ’s birthday . . .”
              −−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−
When you come out, you find a peculiar scene waiting for you. Yaoyorozu has crafted a fan for, you presume, Izuku, who is so red you could almost see the light refraction from his face’s heat and sweating by what looks like the gallon. Eijiro is by his side, trying to calm him down. You heighten the sensitivity of your cochlea to pick up the tail end of their conversation.
“It’ll be super manly, dude!”
“Bu-but I’ve never . . .” Your boyfriend seems tongue-tied.
“You’ve definitely got it in you,” Eijiro slaps Izuku on the back, “Plus Ultra!”
Izuku echoes Eijiro, but you can tell his heart isn’t in it.
You return to your average level of hearing and walk up to the trio.
“Everything good?” They all look at you with expressions that clearly scream, ‘No, everything is not good dumbass.’
“Riiight, foolish question. Izuku, babe, do you need me to help you?” He squeaks, and that stops you dead in your tracks. The last time he had squeaked in your presence was when he’d asked you out on your first date, and you think it was mostly because you had bluntly told him you had every intention of having sex with him if not after your first then for sure after your second date. He didn’t even squawk when you made good on your declaration, and you had been positive he was going to. Your assurance cost you a ¥2,000 bet with Ochako and Shoto. Whatever had transpired while you were changing had him spooked.
You crouch down and gently take his face between your hands. His cheeks are unnaturally warm. Closing your eyes, you reach out with your quirk to scan his vitals. What the actual fuck? Izuku’s pregenual anterior cingulate cortex is enormous. Your boyfriend is next level embarrassed. His heart rate is in the 200bpm range, which should have been impossible because it only ever got that high when he was exercising, and you were quite familiar with getting it there.
You’re honestly shocked his heart hasn’t started to palpitate with the sky-high levels of cortisol in his blood and high heart rate. Taking a deep breath, you begin to gently persuade the firing neurons near his PACC to chill, its size slowly decreases. You travel down to his hypothalamus and rearrange some of its chemical balance, so it stops producing corticotropin-releasing hormone, creating a negative feedback loop that would lead to his body to drop its cortisol production. You vasoconstrict a handful of the blood vessels in his face for good measure, hoping to cool it down. Your eyes flutter open, and the ruddiness is gone, and his cheeks feel cool against your palms. He gives you a weak smile and gosh that smile, these freckles, those lively emerald eyes. You lean your forehead against his, taking a moment to collect yourself. You kiss the tip of his nose before pulling yourself up, stretching once you’re fully upright.
“Well damn, I’m starving now. I know I said you had to cook for me, but I don’t think I’ll last. What do you say, Number 1. Hero, care to take me out to eat?”
Izuku gets to his feet, with a bit of help from Eijiro, who keeps a hand wrapped around his waist to keep him from stumbling.
“Yeah, of course, love. Just tell me where you want to eat.”
You grin in delight. Before making a decision, you turn to your two other companions. You’re not sure when Yaomomo had time to change, but she’s no longer in her hero costume.
“Would y’all like to join us? Izuku’s treat.” Your cinnamon roll’s protest is drowned out by their loud acceptance.
“I mean, if my bro is gonna treat us, then how could I say no?”
“How gracious Izuku, I’d love to share a meal with everyone.”
“Let’s get going then!” You grab Izuku’s hand and turn around, heading in the direction of the train stop. The walk will give you time to decide where you want to eat.
              −−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−
“Hold on one sec, almost got it.” You pace next to Izuku; the pressure on your bladder almost debilitating. At the click of your front door unlocking and seeing Izuku push it open, you rush through over the threshold. You kick the heels off your feet, your slippers abandoned at the entryway as you make a break for the bathroom. You can’t get your underwear off quick enough. The relief is almost pleasurable. You’d forgotten what it felt like to pee while exceedingly inebriated. Typically when you go out drinking, you elevate your liver’s production of alcohol dehydrogenase so you can avoid getting drunk, but tonight was your birthday celebration, and you wanted to get shitfaced, so you dialed it back. Now that you’re home and not interested in a hangover, you make the necessary adjustments to your liver. The night out had been a pleasant surprise. More people had shown up than you’d been led to believe would, most importantly, your younger siblings had stopped by — you hadn’t seen them since moving to Musutafu to pursue your hero career. You finish reminiscing over the night’s events. Quickly wiping, you flush the toilet and wash your hands. When you open the door, you find your slippers are there waiting. He was a total sweetheart.
You slide your sore feet in and sigh at the fluffiness. You make your way to your bedroom, surprised to find it empty. Where had Izuku gone? You take off your earrings, dropping them into your jewelry box. Making your way to the main bathroom connected to your room, you’ve just finished wiping away your makeup when you hear the door open. You walk to the bathroom door to peek and gasp as soon as you spot the figure closing the door behind them. Now you’d be the first to admit you are a horny bitch, but never have you felt your pussy throb with such a deep longing the way it was throbbing now. You stand still dumbfounded at seeing Izuku in his hero costume in your bedroom.
“Babe?” You try to suppress the quiver in your voice.
“Ma’am,” He tilts his head in greeting, “I got reports of a villain in the vicinity. I’m Deku, and I’m here to take care of you.”
Why the fuck did he just introduce himself? And a villain? You reach out with your quirk but don’t feel an unknown presence nearby. You start to walk towards him but stop at the foot of your bed. He meets you there, and you don’t know what to expect, but it definitely was not him pushing you onto your back. You fall with a muffled thud against the comforter. You stare up at him at a complete loss. You then become hyper-aware of what you’re wearing. The sparkling strappy mini dress leaves little to the imagination, and you’re positive that from his angle, Izuku can see your panties and the growing evidence of your arousal.
“Apologies, ma’am, but I’ll be using my quirk to restrain you as a precautionary measure.” Your mouth goes dry as you watch Blackwhip manifest wrapping around your wrists, pulling your arms above your head, and adhering to your shared bed’s headboard. You have to scoot yourself back a few inches to ease the tension in your shoulders. Holy shit. He just tied you up. This whole time he’s been standing at the end of the bed taking you in. You know your face is flushed, and you can feel your nipples brushing against the material of your dress now that you’re so turned on. Izuku’s hands come into view, and that somehow gets your mouth to work again.
“What are you going to do?” You arch an eyebrow and part your lips to let your tongue dart out and wet them. Fuck Yaomomo wasn’t off the mark with her comment.
“I’ll need to do a full-body search to ensure you’re not concealing anything illegal on your person.” You don’t have time to respond before his gloved hands caress down your pinned arms, across where your neck and shoulders meet. Leaving goosebumps in their wake. He cups your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. You groan as the sensation travels down, pooling between your legs. He moves down your sides, slowly over your exposed thighs sticking strictly to the outside of your legs until he reaches mid-calf. You feel his hands move, and suddenly their inching closer to your aching cunt. Using his right hand Izuku runs a finger teasingly up between your clothed slit and your hips give an involuntary buck. He removes his finger and tuts at you, that pisses you off.
“What the fuck Izu —” You stop yourself when you see another tendril of black materialize near your face.
“Don’t make me gag you. My name is Deku, and you will address me as Deku-sama.” There’s a finality in his tone that leaves no room for argument. You’re torn between being really fucking aroused and very vexed at this role reversal. You’d always been on top, literally and figuratively, and now here he was, your cinnamon roll, threatening to gag you and not even blushing about it. He takes your silence as understanding and begins to hike up the bottom of your dress. With your midriff exposed, he finally settles between your legs, his toned abdomen flush against you. He places an open-mouthed kiss just above your belly button, his tongue flicks out to taste your skin. Izuku’s lips continue to roam over every inch of your exposed abdomen, sucking and biting. He’s going to leave love marks all over your stomach, you’re sure. His hands travel up under your dress, coming to rest just below your breasts. You feel the flat of his tongue working its way towards his hands. When you can feel his breath tickling you already hard nipples, he pulls his face away. You squirm and pull against your restraint — you feel them tighten.
“What is it you want, villain?” Fuuuck. The word falls from his lips wrapped in sinful promise sending another steady pulse of need through your body. Your nervous system was on fire.
“I want you to touch me.” You try to taper down the pleading in your voice, but the mildly amused expression on Izuku’s face says you failed.
“Like this?” His hand runs down your neck, over your dress and through the valley of your cleavage, past your naval stopping at the band of your panties. It dawns on you that he was teasing you.
“Or like this?” You’re not sure when his gloves came off or how he managed it, but one second you’re covered by the flimsy dress material next, the straps keeping it up are torn, and the dress pulled down. You hiss at the shock of the sudden temperature change, but quickly warm up as calloused fingers massage your breasts. A greedy moan is the only answer you can manage as you arch your back into his touch. He leans closer, breath warm against your neck, and moves a hand down to grip your ass,
“Let’s see if these are illegal buns of steel.” Even with how incredibly husky his voice is, you almost laugh at his remark’s absolute absurdity. Still, having maybe foreseen your reaction Izuku wraps one of your nipples between his lips before you can utter a sound.
“Deku-sama.” You inhale sharply coming completely unwound as his tongue flicks and swirls. His mouth sucks and pulls playfully. When his teeth graze your nipple, you contemplate making your hands boneless to escape the restraints just so you could tangle your hands in his hair; even with the undercut, you knew you could make him moan. The idea is quickly dashed as Izuku releases your now overly sensitive bud with a resounding pop that sends the ache in your pussy into a frenzy. Good god , he hasn’t even gotten inside of you yet. He treats your other nipple with much the same attention. However, this time, he lets his teeth give it a gentle nibble, and the shock of the feeling causes your skin to prickle. You feel him grin at your reaction before giving your nipple a farewell lick. He captures your lips, shoving his hips down against your own, as his hands’ ghost over your neck. You hook a leg around his hip, pulling him closer, trying to create as much friction as possible as you roll your hips upward. He lets out a breathy chuckle, as his mouth moves to replace his hands. He kisses up your neck, his breath tickles your ear, and you stutter out a needy whimper.
“Someone’s eager.” You groan in frustration as he pulls back. His hands grab hold of what’s left of your dress, and you help him get you out of it. He runs a finger up your stomach, stopping just below your sternum. The tip of his index finger traces a lazy circle before leaving a trail of goosebumps back down to your hip. The pressure of his finger is replaced by his mouth, biting the flesh of your hip crease hungrily. He kisses his away across to your opposite hip, traces of his kisses wet against your skin. You feel his fingers toying with the lacy hem of your panties before he hooks them in the elastic, pulling them down. You lift your hips as they pass over the curve of your ass, and you wriggle in anticipation. Izuku braces his left forearm against your right thigh, pushing your legs wider. His index finger explores your wet folds, dipping briefly into your slit, before brushing against your swollen clitoris.
“Deku-sama, please .” You don’t care how desperate you sound, the ache in your pussy is becoming unbearable. The slow burn was killing you.
“Since you said, please.” He slips a thick finger inside of you, curling it just so it massages the soft and spongy spot that makes your toes curl and lewd obscenities fall from your parted lips.
“Aah, fuck. Fuck, yes, there, right there. More. Izuku give me more.” A second finger is roughly inserted. You cry out as a jolt of ecstasy consumes every inch of you. He begins to scissor his fingers back and forth, “It’s De-ku sa-ma,” each thrust emphasizing the syllables of his declaration. You rock your hips up, trying to get his fingers deeper because you are close. You can feel the dam getting ready to burst. When his thumb circles your clit, you feel yourself clench around his fingers. He inhales sharply. You bite back a moan as stars begin to dance across your vision. The rhythm of his fingers picks up, and the pressure on your clit begins to be too much.
“You’re about to cum.” It’s not a question, but you manage to pant a yes, and it becomes your undoing. Tongue replaces fingers before you can bemoan feeling empty, hands wrap under your thighs, keeping you exposed when they instinctively try to shut. His fingers dig into soft flesh, and the pain leaves you dizzy for more. He unhooks his left arm from your thigh, again using his forearm to keep your leg down. Two fingers spread you open, and his breath is warm, and you screw your eyes shut because fucking hell, you feel ready to erupt. You feel the warmth of his tongue as it slips inside you and starts to lick around. His nose brushes against your clit as he laps up your wetness. When he takes your clitoris in his mouth, you feel yourself at the edge of a precipice.
“Y-your fin-fingers. Deku-sama.” You frantically tug against your binds as you arch your hips rutting into his face. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You feel yourself drowning in pleasure when his fingers join back in the fray. You’re full, and his tongue is everywhere. Inside you along with his fingers, pressing in all the right places. There’s no room to be embarrassed by your body’s wet sounds as you thrust against his fingers or the sounds he’s eliciting from you — loud, throaty, and gluttonous. He laps up the juices wherever they end up, on your thighs, in your folds, the space between your pussy and ass. At your clit he teases with nibbles, quick flicks of his tongue, and long flat strokes. He was treating you like you were his favorite meal. Coming back for seconds, thirds, fourths. You lose track of time. The air crackles with electricity, Izuku, the electromagnet to your copper coils. It sparks against your skin. Were you doing that? You couldn’t tell, but it didn’t matter because something was building. You feel it in your core, your quirk causing your atoms to buzz in excitement. He lets you hook your legs around his back, locking your ankles. You make a strangled noise when a particularly aggressive thrust combined with the head-splitting euphoria of Izuku’s tongue on your clit brings your Earth stuttering on its axis.
“Oh fuck, oh kami. Shit, Deku-sama!”
You flicker in and out. One second howling Izuku’s name like a prayer to the Gods, hips rolling up to meet his mouth. The next, you find yourself weightless in a void no longer in a corporeal form. What the fuck? It lasts no longer than a second before you return to your body and the sound of him cooing against your aching cunt.
“That’s it, cum villain. Cum for me.” And cum, you do. Waves of fiery ecstasy set your body aflame. You clench your fists and use your legs to pull Izuku’s face further flush against you. When you think you can catch your breath, Izuku surprises you by coaxing you into another smaller orgasm. You don’t know how he did it, but you really can’t complain, you’re feeling blissful as fuck. The bed creaks as he shifts back onto his knees, unwrapping your legs from around him. Blachwip is deactivated, and your arms fall uselessly to your sides. You feel your legs quiver from exertion, and you watch your chest rise in fall sporadically as your breathing levels off. You prop yourself up on your elbow to give Izuku a once over. He’s got a bit of sweat on his forehead, you can see the outline of his erection against the front of his hero costume, and your cum glistens on his nose, mouth, and chin. Not sure how you manage it, with your body feeling so close to putty, but you scoot back, pulling yourself up into a seated position, and rock forward onto your knees so you’re facing him.
You move closer, so your knees brush against his. Now that you’re close enough, you can see how blown his pupils are. They almost wholly eclipse the dark shamrock of his irises. He had it bad for you. You could fix that. You grab his chin between your thumb and forefinger, tilting it down to your lips so you can lick it clean. When your tongue traces the outline of his mouth, a low moan rumbles in the back of his throat. You get his mouth open with a hard nip to his bottom lip. Tasting yourself in his mouth and on his tongue makes you squeeze your thighs together briefly before you let your free hand wander between your legs to stroke your clit and moistening labia. You give the tip of his nose a cutesy peck that almost brings a blush to his freckled face, but he remains in character, so you palm his cock with your damp hand grinning devilishly when he stutters an exhale.
“I want you, hero.”
Izuku’s chuckle is rich, and you can feel it reverberate against where your chests connect. You start to toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, the short buzz of his undercut tickles your fingertips. Sliding your hand up, you finally get to tangle your fist in his hair, your grip tightens, and you pull his head back, exposing his neck. Your tongue darts out to lick a stripe up to just below his earlobe, all the while your hand strokes him into fully hardening.
“I’m not fucking around, Deku.” Your voice is thick and your tone dark, dangerous. He grabs the wrist of the hand that’s between his legs and growls,
“Neither am I villain slut.” You swallow hard at his inflection on the word slut. You’d never been called a slut during sex, and under any other circumstance, you’re sure it wouldn’t have sent a thrill of arousal pulsing from your fingertips down to your toes. He brings the hand up above your head, reaching behind his head to grab your second hand. You give him a feral grin, and his eyes flash before he sends you to your back. You’re about to stretch out your legs when he commands you to flip over onto your hands and knees. You do as you’re told, biting your lip as warmth begins to once again pool between your legs. You wish you could help him out of his costume, but it sounds like your help wasn’t needed. His dick grazes against the back of your thighs. A finger follows the curve of your spine. You arch into the touch and moan when it dips at your hip to tap your clitoris.
“You’re so wet already. You villains really know nothing about bedroom decorum.” He skims a hand over your stomach, stopping to grope and tease your hardened nipples.
“Oh? Keeping a woman in suspense isn’t exactly proper in my book De-ku sa-ma.” You look over your shoulder with a smirk.
“You’re,” he thrust into you without warning, quickly turning the grin on your face into an open-mouthed ‘oh,’ “not,” he pulls out, so the tip of his head just barely touches your cunt, “a woman.” He pushes into you, swearing under his breath as you push your hips back to meet his momentum. A ragged breath escapes your lips as you adjust to him, filling you. Shit, the boy is thick. His nails dig into your hip as he continues to fuck you at a painfully slow pace. Fingers tweak your nipples, and you feel your whole body flush with pleasure. You clutch the bedsheets in two tight fists when he starts to quicken his thrusts. His chest is slick with sweat against your back, his tongue tracing circles into your shoulder. An aggressive stroke sends the head of his cock rubbing up against your G-spot, and you feel your walls squeeze around him.
“Shit, shit, fuck Deku. That’s it. Just keep putting pressure on that spot.” You feel your elbows buckle, and you expect to crash into the bed. Instead, black tendrils wrap around your arms to keep you upright. This is definitely not how Lariat intended Blackwhip’s tendrils to be used. The thought makes you giggle. It seems that this was not a sound Izuku wanted to hear coming from you. He bites down on the spot of your shoulder he’d been suckling, making his displeasure known. You feel him adjust himself behind you, perhaps too quickly, because he slips out of you, and you protest immediately with a loud whine.
“I’ll give you something to whine about.” He thrust back into you, your knees go weak, and your pussy’s stimulation begins to pull the taught rope of your impending orgasm closer to snapping. One of his hands grabs the hair at the base of your neck, tugging with just enough force to tease a guttural mewl from you.
“That’s more like it.” You’re so overstimulated, with the rhythm of his dick coming in and out of you. The attention he’s paying to your clit, you scarcely have the headspace to be shocked by the personality change. Izuku doesn’t release his hold on your hair; instead, he deactivates Blackwhip and uses the grip to guide you, so your back is flush against his chest. You can smell the muskiness of his sweat with him so close. It mingles in the air with the scent of your arousal. Sex, the whole room smelled heavily of your fucking. He brushes a thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down gently. You open your mouth, taking it in, holding it gently between your teeth, your lips acting as a cushion. You suck on Izuku’s thumb, letting your tongue swirl over the tip treating it how you would if you were instead sucking on the head of his cock. You hollow out your cheek and release his thumb with a satisfying pop. Your reward is the sound of Izuku’s heated gasp. The sound tightens the coil in your groin. You feel his right hand lightly trailing up your side. You expect him to stop to cup your breast, but a tingle runs up your spine when he skips it entirely. His thumb rests a few inches under your right ear, the fleshy part of his palm rests against your trachea, the remaining four fingers occupy the same spot under the opposite ear. You can’t hide your excitement as he begins to apply light pressure to your neck. It’s amplified when he whispers in your ear,
“Whose slut are you, villain?”
“I’m yours. All yours.” He squeezes a little tighter, and you squirm, gripping his left hip for stability.
“Yours, Deku-sama. I’m all yours.” You choke over the words while he loosens his grip satisfied with your correction. The brief bout of intoxicating lightheadedness dissipates quickly, but he keeps his hand around your neck.
You feel him, hard and slick, throbbing inside you, and you know he’s close. You prepare to ride out the coming crescendo that you’ll set off with your silver tongue.
“You’re getting close, aren’t you, hero? I can feel your cock pulsing.” He squeezes your neck tighter than he has before reminding you who was in charge. You dig your nails into his hip and bite your lip. Was he turning into a masochist, or were you?
“I want you to cum in me. Make me your bona fide villain bitch — think you’re up for it, big boy?” You were being so bold, goading him. It does the trick. He releases his hold on your neck, you’re a little sad, but are swiftly distracted by a sudden burst of heat and green energy crackling, the telltale sign of Full Cowl being activated. What the hell was he up to? Your answer comes moments later when his hands push your bent legs further apart, hooking his arms under your thighs to lift them up. You feel weightless, free, and so very wanton. Then like being dosed with ice-cold water, you come back to your senses; you’ve always been terrified of being picked up during sex. Your arms flail, searching for anything to grab hold of. They settle awkwardly at Izuku’s neck. Your breathing is a little erratic.
“You’re not scared of heights, are you?” Oh, he was being a total ass.
“Absolutely not.” You bite back.
“Heh.”
Sensing your discomfort, he places you back down on your knees, his hand returning to your neck — where it belonged. Shit, it was you, you’re the masochist. You feel him throb inside you, the head of his penis gets a little bigger and his cock harder. His movements become more sporadic. You take his free hand and lead it to your clit, you’d be damned if he cums before you. His groans become music to your ears, loud and ravenous as you roll your hips to meet his thrusts. Soon that’s all you can feel, like tunnel vision nothing else matters, there are no other options, but his cock burying itself deeper and deeper inside you as his fingers dance around your clit. He flicks and pulls, rubs circles, and you savor every second of it. Everything cumulates into a blinding flash of white-hot light as if you’re staring directly at burning magnesium. You hear him crying out your name, and it mixes with your carnal pleas into a cacophonous soundtrack to your mutual climax. He finishes inside you, the thick viscous liquid of his orgasm, filling you with more warmth than you anticipated. As you ride out your orgasm, you don’t stop gyrating your hips until you feel Izuku become soft. You let out a shaky breath as you come to a stop to catch your breath. You’re thankful that he doesn’t seem eager to pull out quite yet while you bask in the quiet exhilaration of having orgasmed three times this night.
“I’m going to pull out now, okay?”
You nod your head slightly, words out of reach with your euphoria’s hum still clouding your mind. Cum trickles down between your thighs, the sensation almost ticklish, but far more erotic. With nothing connecting you to Izuku, your body gives in to its exhaustion, falling forward unceremoniously. He wraps an arm around your waist, setting you gently down on your stomach. Rolling onto your back, you shimmy up onto a pillow to support your head. You glance up at Izuku and sigh in content. Hair stuck to his head, abs contracting as he slows his breathing (his heart rate close to 180bpm), and his left-hand traces the scars on his right arm absently. Even in such a worn-out state, he looked otherworldly. You lock eyes, and you pat his side of the bed next to you.
“Cuddle with me.” At hearing those three words, he sheds his façade, his eyes soften, his jaw loosens, and he eagerly obliges your request. He rests his head on your chest, your fingers playing with his hair as he gently brushes your side. You stay like this for a few minutes until he starts out of your arms like someone’s lit a fire under his ass. He sits up, you follow suit intrigued by what’s got him so worked up. You watch him reach across towards his nightstand. He pulls out a notebook and a pencil. You have to suppress your snort as he begins scribbling furiously. You couldn’t even pretend to be surprised, catching bits and pieces of his muttering.
“. . . dominated . . . choking . . . loud . . . buns of steel. . .” You can’t stifle the laugh that escapes you. He glances up and gives you a sheepish grin, his face like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
“You fucked me into another dimension, jot that down in your sex notebook.” A blush erupts across his face.
“I-I what? Seriously?”
“Mhmm, as seriously as my orgasm.” Embarrassment flickers momentarily in his eyes, quickly replaced by intense curiosity. You dare say you see a little triumphant gleam too.
“What happened, tell me everything, love.” You recount what he’d been doing with his tongue and fingers. The feeling leading up to it and what it looked like in this other dimension.
“Sounds like you’ve unlocked another facet of your quirk.”
“Looks like it, but it’s not really useful.” He gives you an inquiring look; you roll your eyes. He could be so dense sometimes.
“I can’t exactly have you eating me out in public every time I want to astral project now, can I?” His blush returns full force.
“Maybe there’s another way.”
“Possibly, but I’m beat. My legs feel like jello, and I’m starting to feel sore.” You massage your neck, glancing at your exposed breasts and the marks that speckle them. Izuku looks at you with worry.
“You can’t fix it with your quirk?”
“I can, but where’s the fun in that? One of my favorite parts of sex is feeling it the next day. I’m definitely going to tomorrow and maybe the day after thanks to you.” You give him a wink and admire as he fumbles with his words.
“Oh! Well, I mean. Yeah. No problem. I think?” He was definitely back to being your cinnamon roll. You giggle quietly.
“Before I go clean up, I’ve gotta know. How did you do that.” You motion with your hand, hoping he picks up what you’re putting down. He does.
“Simple, lots of research.” You squint at him, touching the pulse at his neck. It was slightly elevated.
“Ah-huh, and what else?”
“No-nothing!” The pulse quickens a little more.
“Did you role play with someone?” The idea sounds absolutely preposterous, but when he pushes your hand away from his neck and gets up off the bed, you know you’ve struck a nerve.
“You’re using your quirk, that’s not fair.”
“All’s fair in love and war. So, who was it with? Shoto? Eiji? Or was it Katsuki ?” The light hue of pink that creeps up his neck is all the confirmation you need.
“Ah,” you bob your head sagely, “it makes sense, babe, he gives off a total masochist vibe. I’d have practiced with him too. What was it like? Would he be open to a threesome? Or would it be a foursome since he’s got that not, so secret thing going with Eiji? Could I even handle the three of you?” You wonder out loud.
“(Y/N)!” Izuku rushes into the bathroom, adamantly trying to end this conversation. You weren’t letting this go, oh no siree, so you get out of bed and walk to the bathroom where Izuku’s turned on the shower and is standing under its current.
“Nice try. You’re giving me the details.” He sighs defeatedly.
“Can it wait until we’re in the bath.” You cross your arms in a huff, pouting.
“I guess.” Izuku grabs you, pulling you into the shower with him. You wrap your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his chest. He gives the top of your head a kiss.
“Happy birthday, (Y/N).”
Happy fucking birthday to me. You smile to yourself.
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Text
Hoodie Headcanons
Pairings: BNHA Boys x reader
Warnings: None, just more fluff from me!
Characters: Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki, Shinsou, Amajiki, Kirishima
A/N: I highly recommend listening to Jacob Sartorius’s Sweatshirt song while reading ;)
                   ꒰ෆ❛ั ु▿❛ั ु꒱            ٩꒰• ε •꒱۶
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Midoriya:
● I wanna start this off by saying that Midoriya unironically likes that song ^^^. There's nothing I can do, it's canon.
● That said, he's super chill about you stealing his clothes
● Already owns a crap ton of hoodies and loose t-shirts, so you have quite the number to choose from
● Understands completely how you like the way they smell
● It was initially his idea to offer you his hoodie one evening when you looked cold
● After you put it on, he just couldn't stop staring at you
● You were so cute !!! and wearing his hoodie !!!
● 100% a yes from him when you asked to borrow it for a while longer
● And any other time you so happened to want to snatch one
● Wearing some of his clothing is def a cuddle turn on
● Your relationship in general is just soft vibes and fuzzy sweetness, but Izu will get nearly twice as tender curled up next to you in his hoodie
● A forehead and cheek kiss simp all the way, just smothering your face in little pecks
● Fall and winter only gain more appreciation from him, since it's perfect sweater weather and time to share warmth any way he could think of with his cutie (that's you (*~‿~))
● Is also down to see you in his t-shirts when it gets a little warmer
● It makes him feel some sort of way when he sees you in one of his old All Might tees
● A good way, mind you
● Maybe it's the nostalgia of the shirt seen on his favorite person
● Literally two of his top three favorite people right there in front of him for him to hold (but only one in the flesh. Both would be weird)
____________
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Bakugou:
● We all know Baku's fashion sense is on point
● A lot of his clothes aren't for comfort, but he does have some baggy tees to sleep in
● Actually, not anymore
● Because they're all gone
● He feels like he's going crazy, trying to figure out how he's misplaced so many shirts
● Until one day when he catches you in the act, rummaging through his closet for another t-shirt to add to your collection
● "So that's why I haven't been able to find any of my clothes!"
● His voice makes you jump, whipping around to meet his triumphant expression
● So he wasn't just a dumbass who couldn't keep track of his own pajamas. That was a relief
● But then . . . you'd taken his stuff, and acted like he was crazy when he'd mentioned it missing in passing
● Now he's a little pissed
Your back was to his closet, guiltily holding a black t-shirt. "Katsuki, I—"
"Where's the rest of them?"
"Huh?"
"I know what you've been up to. What have you been doing with my clothes?"
You sheepishly lead him to your room, opening a drawer in your dresser where you'd been storing your stolen goods.
Katsuki looks into the nearly full drawer, then back at you, and you can't help but notice a hint of respect flickering on his features.
"You're pretty good," he admits, putting a hand in the drawer and pulling a shirt out at random. "I didn't even realize I was missing this many."
"I was going to give them back," you try to explain, now attempting to hide your face with your hair, "but they still kinda smelled like you, and they're so comfortable to sleep in—"
"Oh, so that's what you do with them." Katsuki's frown deepened, letting the shirt fall back into the pile. "Why don't you just come see me?"
You averted your eyes, shrugging. "I don't know. You just go to bed so early and sometimes I have to stay up and study but I still miss you, so having your stuff is really nice because it's like . . . you're there . . . ."
Katsuki sighed and pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'm here for you, babe. You don't need a piece of cloth when you can just ask."
"But what about when you're not here?"
He paused, realizing you had a point. "You can keep some," he finally grumbled. "But for heaven's sake, not so many! I'm running out of things to wear. If you need another one, tell me."
"Thank you." You hugged him back and finally watched as he lugged an armful of t-shirts out of your room and back to his.
● Eventually Bakugou realized that seeing you wearing one of his shirts oddly boosted his ego; especially seeing you so often, now that he knows your secret, more than happy to wear his clothing while the two of you hung out together
● He starts to insist that you wear some of his t-shirts around the common areas, letting people see you in them
● But before you get the chance, he makes sure to wear it frequently so everyone knows it's his, and then gives it to you to wear so everyone knows you're also his. It's just one of his pride things
● You soon start to expand from just shirts, eyeing the singular hoodie at the back of his closet
● He doesn't think it really fits his vibe, only having worn it alone in the confines of his own room when he was cold
● You insist that you want it, though, so he grumbles and starts wearing it in secret so it can smell like him for you
● He has to admit you're freakishly adorable in it, even though it's not really oversized or anything
● This prompts him to wear it more often, just not in front of anyone other than you
● You finally buy him another hoodie for his birthday, although it's more of a gift for yourself than him
●And now we move on to: Bakugou's baggy pants
● Maybe our favorite explosive blond boy likes his tops to be a little more put together
● But dang, do he got those loose-as-heck pants
● You steal them out of spite mostly, just to see his reaction to your hips filling out his pants
● Boy does he like it
____________
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Todoroki:
● "Why are you taking my clothes? Do you not have enough of your own?"
● Doesn't really own hoodies, per se, but definitely has a steady supply of jumpers, knits, and turtlenecks
● Or, he used to
● Until you came along
● Is kinda confused at first, completely baffled at where all his clothes were going
● Then he finally caught you, recognizing one of his sweaters on you while you made a quick trip to the kitchen for tea
● Legitimately does not know why you'd take it, surprised that you'd steal from him
● You hastily explain that it's normal, and that you only do it so you can have something that smells like him for when he's not around
● After that, he kind of understands
● Took you shopping with him once, just to see what you liked. He thought he'd be buying you some sweaters of your own, but instead ended up purchasing his first oversized hoodie (with a few extras to share) (who wants a quick Buying Hoodies with Shouto drabble?)
● Now you're both obsessed with the hoodies, Shouto being surprised at how comfortable they are
● Loves showing up for cuddle sessions in a hoodie, pulling you close to him so you sink into the soft fabric
● 100% Shouto's new favorite clothing item
____________
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Shinsou:
● It started out when you took a nap together for the first time at his house
● You'd asked to borrow one of his larger shirts to sleep in, feeling a bit uncomfortable in the top you had worn that day (I for one cannot sleep in my day clothes. I don't know why, it just feels wrong. Does anyone else feel like that too?)
● He let you wear a large, gray tee, which was so big on you it fell around your thighs
● He thought you looked so cute in it, especially since it mostly covered your shorts
● Thus began your obsession with wearing his clothes whenever possible
● Pajamas, t-shirts, and hoodies are your prime targets
● Totally wear them to bed whenever you're not sleeping with him (as in sharing a bed, not that)
● The scent makes it feel like he's right there with you
● Shinsou noticed immediately what you were doing but never made any moves to stop you, thinking it was cute
● Absolutely loves seeing you in his clothes
● You look so cute but also it's low key hot, jus sayin 👀
● I've briefly mentioned this before, I think, but 'Toshi has some nice pajamas
● Nothing over the top expensive or anything, no
● I'm talking peak COMFY
● Ya ever see the pants with fleece lining and stuff?
● Mmm *chef kiss* do he have a pair of those fo sure
● Also, many with cat themes!
● Seeing you in his purple cat PJ pants only solidifies further for him that you're his Kitty
____________
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Amajiki:
● Gets kinda flustered but at the same time is super flattered
● You actually ask to 'borrow' one of his sweaters, and he lets you, blushing as he watches you slide it over your head
● You're so frinking cute in it, and he feels this almost foreign sense of possessiveness wash over him because you're there and you're adorable and you're in his sweater and all of you is his
● Spontaneously hugs you and is even brave enough to press a few little kisses all over your face
● You wearing his sweaters and hoodies becomes a regular thing; asking every few weeks for a replacement top and him obliging, letting you pick something from his closet
● This doesn't stop you from occasionally stealing his clothes anyway, him sometimes catching you in one of his jumpers and briefly wondering if he'd ever actually seen you choose that particular one before shrugging and brushing it off
● He never fails to provide you with extras whenever you have to be apart for whatever reason, trying to help so you don't have to miss him so much
● Is 200% more inclined to hug you when you're wearing them. You just look so soft and warm, which he quickly finds out for himself that you are
● Definitely has thought about trying on one of your hoodies, but is a little too scared to ask
____________
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KiriBaku:
● You alternate between wearing Bakugou's hoodie with Kirishima's sweats and then vice versa
● Neither of them can handle how cute you look practically drowning in hoodies that they bought oversized for them
● They're just that much bigger on you, especially Kirishima's since he's more willing to buy baggier hoodies than Bakugou
● If either one of them catches you wearing their clothes, they will literally just flop on top of you, overwhelmed by how much they want to hug you
● Even Bakugou will drop what he's doing just to go give you a hug, pulling you onto his lap for a minute and giving you a sweet kiss
● Eijirou will straight-up full-on tackle you, peppering kisses all over your face while he hugs you close to him
● If it's both of them at once though, get ready
● An impromptu cuddle sesh is guaranteed, most likely starting with Kirishima picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom while Bakugou follows close behind, ready to jump into bed with you
● Like I said way up top, Bakugou wasn't super into hoodies at first, but once you start stealing Kirishima's along with the one or two he does have, he starts buying and wearing them for the sole purpose of seeing you add them to your collection
● Bakugou's are better for going out in since they tend to fit you a little better, him opting to buy hoodies a little closer to his size
● Kirishima's are great for hanging out around the house, snuggling into the excess fabric and inhaling his scent while you wait for him to get home
● The two of them eventually start to just wear each other's hoodies interchangeably too, to the point of nobody really knowing who's hoodie is who's anymore
● E: "I'm pretty sure you got me this one for my birthday."
● K: "No, I bought it for myself, and then you decided to steal it on your birthday."
● Before all the confusion, though, you would rotate, having little hoodie parties where both you and Bakugou would wear one of Kirishima's hoodies while Kirishima wore one of Bakugou's
● Bonus: Kirishima has 100% decided to repay the whole clothing stealing thing and took your leggings, wearing them around the house just waiting for one of you to notice
● "Are those my leggings?"
● "Yeah."
● "What the hell."
● You just roll your eyes and go back to what you were doing
● Not ten minutes later, from another room—
● "EJIROU, WHAT THE FUCK!"
● "What?"
                  ꒰ෆ❛ั ु▿❛ั ु꒱            ٩꒰• ε •꒱۶
Author's Note:
I will be posting a quick Eijirou drabble about him catching you stealing his hoodie, so expect that soon (find it here!). Also I didn't do TodoDeku but that was because I ran out of both motivation and time so  ╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭
Writing these made me realize how few hoodies I own. Also how single and alone I am.
*Waluigi voice* WAH
-Sugar
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livesincerely · 3 years
Text
dress you up, dress you down ch. 3 - business casual
aka the Tie Fic. Chapter two here.
Also on Ao3
00000
“Wait, wait, go back,” Katherine says, barely holding back a laugh. “Jack keeps doing what?”
“So, he’ll start getting ready, right?” Davey explains, gesturing with his free hand. “And then, right in the middle, he’ll get distracted or start telling a story or ask me a question, and end up just standing there for ages with his pants half buttoned or his shirt hanging open, like it’s totally fine, no big deal.”
Davey glances left and right to make sure the road is clear, then continues on, Katherine’s hand tucked companionably in the crook of his arm as they walk along.
“It’s driving me crazy, Kath, I am this close to losing my mind,” Davey says, thoroughly caught up in getting this all off his chest. “It’s a miracle I’ve gotten through these last few weeks without throwing myself off the fire escape; no one should be expected to withstand the full force of Jack Kelly first thing in the morning, it’s too much to ask of any one person. And I can’t even just try to avoid looking at him, because if Jack notices he always starts asking me if I’m okay or if anything’s wrong and I can’t say, ‘oh, no, Jack, I’m fine, it’s just that you’re too pretty for this mortal plane and I’m kind of struggling to exist in your presence’ because obviously, so then I have to make something up—“
“You aren’t a good liar,” Katherine comments.
“—And I’m not a good liar!” Davey exclaims. “And I’m definitely not a good liar when Jack is looking at me with his stupid, soft brown, puppy dog eyes and his dumb, messy, adorable hair, or when he says ‘Dave’ in that voice and I just— I cannot express enough how difficult it is to convince Jack that there’s nothing wrong with me when I can barely look him in the face.”
Katherine doesn’t even attempt to stifle her next snort of laughter, the sound bursting out of her.
“It’s not funny, Katherine!” Davey says. “I had to start using Les as a human shield just to get through the morning!”
“No, it’s pretty funny,” Katherine disagrees, shoulders shaking.
Davey huffs out a breath.
“I don’t feel like you’re appreciating the gravity of the situation,” he grumbles.
“Oh, boo hoo, a pretty boy likes to stand around your bedroom half naked, giving you plenty of opportunity to ogle at him uninterrupted,” Katherine says, rolling her eyes at him. “What an incredible hardship you’re facing.”
Davey flushes.
“...I don’t ogle at him,” he mutters.
Katherine raises an eyebrow.
“I don’t!” Davey insists. “I can barely keep from embarrassing myself when I’m doing my best not to look at him—I’d have spontaneously combusted by now, otherwise.”
“Uh huh,” Katherine hums, pinning him with a knowing look. “Right.”
“This is your fault, you know,” Davey continues quickly before Katherine can press any further. “I was perfectly content with my life as it was, but no, you wanted him to have nice work clothes and now I’m the one that has to deal with how painfully good Jack looks in a tie on a regular basis.”
“He’s actually wearing it?” Katherine says, surprised. “Given the stink he put up while we were picking it out, I figured we’d hardly ever see him in it unless one of us made him wear it.”
“Well, I wish I could make him stop wearing it,” Davey grouses. “I swear he does it just to torture me—the damn thing is practically haunting my dreams at this point. I’m pretty sure I could fix him up with one hand behind my back, he wears it so often.”
“Wait,” Katherine starts slowly, her expression caught somewhere between judgement and glee. “Have you been.... tying Jack’s tie for him?”
“He doesn’t know how!” Davey protests, face flushing a touch deeper. “He doesn’t know how and I haven’t had time to teach him yet, so I always have to— Stop laughing!” Davey sputters, swatting at Katherine’s shoulder when she devolves into a flurry of giggles. “It’s nothing, it’s not a big deal.”
He decides not to mention the fact that, whenever he goes to fix Jack’s tie, he swears he can feel the weight of Jack’s gaze like a physical presence—almost thrilling in its intimacy, like the warmth of a hand on his cheek or the feeling of fingers carding gently through his hair—except that whenever he works up the nerve to check, Jack’s always looking somewhere else, casual as can be.
How he can’t tell if it’s actually happening or if it’s a figment of his imagination, the sparking tension that seems to flash and flare between them, how he has no idea what he’d do if he actually caught Jack’s gaze in these moments, but that just wondering about it sends his heart beating a few paces faster.
Even if he wanted to try to explain it, he’s not sure if he could put it all into words.
Thankfully, Katherine doesn’t seem to have picked up on his sudden bout of introspection; she nudges Davey playfully in the ribs.
“Sure it isn’t,” she says, clearly delighting in his embarrassment. “Please, tell me more about how you and Jack have built an entire morning routine together—“
“Oh, look, we’re here,” Davey hurriedly interrupts.
The doors to The World stand as tall and imposing as ever, though the effect is softened somewhat by the flood of workers rushing out of them, heading out into the city for their lunch break.
Davey and Katherine linger on the sidewalk, waiting for Jack to come out and meet them, but he never appears.
“He should be here by now, shouldn’t he?” Davey asks, after a few minutes pass by with no sign of Jack.
“Lunch started ten minutes ago,” Katherine confirms. “If he doesn’t hurry, he’s not going to have time to eat.”
“He probably got caught up in one of his art inspirations,” Davey says with a shrug. “I bet he didn’t even notice the bell ringing.”
“Then let’s go fetch him, shall we?” Katherine says, stepping confidently into the building, tugging Davey along behind her.
Davey’s been to The World several times by now, but he still isn’t all that comfortable being inside the building, always feeling distinctly out of place. Katherine, of course, walks right in like she owns the place, which she sort of does, leading the way through the lobby and up the main staircase until they reach the floor for the Art Department.
They find Jack right where they thought he would be, seated at his desk with a pen in hand, deeply engrossed in his latest series of sketches and totally unaware of the world around him... including the small gaggle of his coworkers standing just off to the side, whispering and giggling amongst themselves as they watch him work.
A small part of Davey’s brain can’t blame them for staring: Jack makes for quite the sight in his dark slacks and matching vest, a crisp white button up tucked underneath. He’s become a bit disheveled in the hours since Davey last saw him—his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his tie loosened slightly, exposing the line of his forearms and a hint of skin at his collar—and he wears it incredibly well, looking far more handsome than he has any right to after half a day’s work.
The rest of his brain, however, stands at attention—a fierce, heated sort of irritation prickling just under his skin. Davey feels himself slow to an uneasy stop, a frown pulling at his features.
He happens to catch the eye of one of them: a young woman who appears to be about his age, with blue eyes and dark, curly hair, stepping out of the crowd as if about to approach Jack at his desk. Davey’s not sure what his expression does in this moment, but when their gazes meet she freezes, her cheeks flushing a touch pink as she ducks her head, and she quickly returns to the safety of the crowd.
“Typical Jack,” Katherine says with a soft shake of her head. She doesn’t seem to have noticed the flock of admirers waiting in the wings. “Okay, let’s grab him and get out of here—“
“I’ve got it,” Davey says abruptly, stepping forward.
Jack doesn’t acknowledge his approach, utterly focused on adding a few precise bits of shading to the cartoon he’s hunched over. His fingers are dotted with ink stains, his hair a little ruffled from where he’s been running his hands through it, and Davey feels himself soften at the sight of him, that sharp edge of annoyance fading as quickly as it appeared.
Mindful of not startling Jack while he has a pen in his hand, Davey carefully calls out, “Jackie?”
Jack glances up, distracted, and then does a double take, his expression quickly turning sheepish.
“Aw, hell, is it lunch already?” Jack asks, setting his pen down.
“At the same time as always,” Davey confirms, leaning against the corner of Jack’s desk. “Figures you’d get so caught up in a project that you ignore your stomach.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jack says with a grin, pushing his chair back. “I know, don’t start.”
He stands up and stretches—full bodied, with both arms over his head—giving Davey a long, generous look at just how well everything he’s wearing is tailored to him.
“Where’s Kath?” Jack says, oblivious to the way Davey’s eyes are riveted to the subtle flex of his shoulders and chest as he shakes the stiffness out of his hands. “Is she meetin’ us there or...?”
“No, we walked here together,” Davey says, clearing his throat. “We’re just waiting on you, Jackie, love.”
The endearment slips past his lips of its own accord, far too affectionate and far too honest.
Jack stills, blinking at him in open surprise, clearly catching his mistake. Then his expression shifts, a bright flicker of warmth lighting up his face.
“So, let’s get a move on,” Jack says with a soft smile, blessedly allowing the moment to pass without comment; Davey lets out the breath he’d been holding, relieved. “At this rate, I’m not gonna have any time to eat.”
“And whose fault is that, hmm?” Davey says, trying for something casual, hoping his face isn’t as red as it feels. “What, you didn’t notice everyone else leaving all of the sudden?”
“Shuddup,” Jack says. “You know I don’t mean’ta get distracted. An’, hey, everybody ain’t left yet.”
Jack gestures to where a few of his coworkers are still standing, who try to seem as though they haven’t been watching when they realize Jack is looking at them. Davey’s earlier frown returns with a vengeance.
“See, it ain’t just me,” Jack says.
“I thought we were getting a move on,” Davey says lightly, hooking two fingers under the front of Jack’s vest and tugging slightly to get his attention. Jack’s eyes snap back to his with a speed Davey can only describe as gratifying. “Lunch isn’t going to buy itself.”
“Yeah, okay,” Jack murmurs, allowing himself to be steered back towards the staircase. “Where’re we goin’?”
“It’s Kath’s turn to pick,” Davey says.
“So uptown, somewhere weird and expensive that she won’t let us help pay for,” Jack surmises.
“She promised not to pick anything too strange anymore after last time,” Davey offers, though he’s a bit apprehensive himself. “It won’t be that bad... probably.”
Jack snorts. “It’s the probably that I’m worried about.”
“Buck up, Jackie,” Davey says, curling his hand around Jack’s forearm. “If I have to eat it, you have to eat it.”
“Hey, Jack,” Katherine says once they’re close enough, hitting Davey with another knowing look when Jack steps forward to hug her. Davey bites his lip, gaze falling guiltily to the floor. “Ready to go?”
“You mean, am I ready for your latest poisonin’ attempt?” Jack asks. “Sure, if that’s what’cha wanna call it.”
“I was not poisoning you!” Katherine volleys back. “Those were a delicacy⁠—”
“They was disgustin’, that’s what they was,” Jack replies. “So what’s on the table today, O’ Queen of The World? Sautéed rose petals? A single black bean roasted over an open flame? The left claw of the rare Chesapeake lobster?”
“Why do I even bother?” Katherine dramatically laments, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. “You uncouth swine.”
“You’re the one that dated me.”
“A momentary lapse in judgement, I assure you.”
“Hey!”
As they head back downstairs, Davey can’t help but throw one last parting glance over his shoulder⁠⁠—Jack’s crowd of admirers has mostly dispersed, the various workers going back to their desks to eat or sulk now that there’s no one to gawk at⁠—and surge of satisfaction rushes through him, unbidden, yet undeniable. 
“Dave!” Jack calls, he and Katherine having made it most of the way down the staircase in the meantime. “What’re you doin’? C’mon!” 
“Sorry,” Davey says, hurrying after them.
“What, there somethin’ interestin’ goin’ on up there?” Jack asks, raising an eyebrow. “Somethin’ caught your eye?”
“No, Jackie” Davey says simply, not quite able to resist a smile. “Nothing at all.”
00000
Chapter four here
Tags!
@yahfancyclamwiththepurlinside @corbinthecowboy
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that-sw-writer · 3 years
Note
Hey, here's the idea! What if the reader is Hux's sister, she works on the steadfast or the supremacy, but gets transferred to her brother's command after Ren killed the previous person who held that position. So Hux is on edge cause he's scared Kylo will kill his sister next, while Kylo and her come to an understanding of both wanting to mess with Hux, through all sorts of shenanigans, Kylo and the Reader fall for each other? Much to Hux's dismay 😂
I love how this turned out honestly, it was such a good idea on your part!!
PART TWO
Word count: 3004
Warnings: implied sexual content, Hux getting Extra™️ stressed, borderline crack fic??
Notes: reader is Hux’s sister, but I’ve left it open to be either blood related or adopted so you can choose which you’d rather interpret it as!
Also if anyone wants a part two, drop the request in my asks because I’d be so up for writing that!
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Sibling Rivalry
"You're late." Hux was impatiently tapping his foot as you arrived on the bridge of The Supremacy.
"Got lost, this place is way bigger than Steadfast." You huffed, scurrying to his side as you mockingly stood to attention.
"And the uniform?"  He simply raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down as he outwardly judged your appearance.
"This is how I always wear it."  You shrugged, not willing to change. You wore your standard First Order jacket which went down to your upper-thigh, with a belt cinched around your waist. But rather than the baggy trousers, you opted for a slightly tighter option which you felt were much more flattering, and comfortable. Not to the mention that you refused to wear the hat. Instead, you kept your hair tied back in a braid.
"Well, it's not standard issue. Tomorrow I expect to see you in the correct uniform." He hissed.
"Don't hold your breath, Armitage." You laughed, dryly, "last time I checked, wearing a different pair of trousers doesn't affect my ability to my job." You smirked as you shot him down, knowing that you were going to continue wearing what you were more comfortable in.
"Please don't be over-familiar Lieutenant Hux." He spoke to you in a pointed tone, and you rolled your eyes.
"Not embarrassed of me are you, brother dearest?" You teased him, but his expression remained solemn. Of course, this was normal for Hux, but usually when it came to you he would at least loosen up enough to take a joke.
Gently taking your arm he led you away from any prying ears, "Y/N listen to me, I didn't want you getting this promotion-" You immediately attempted to open your mouth and protest this, but he held his finger up to shush you, before continuing, "-I didn't want you to get it because Kylo Ren killed the last person to have your job, and I'd rather not have you be next."
Your mouth formed an 'o' shape, but no sound came out. Were you as afraid of Kylo Ren as everyone else? No. But you knew just how much your older brother hated the man, and you could tell that Armitage was just worrying for you.
Armitage had always been the golden child, prim and proper. You, on the other hand, you had grown up being the rebellious one, and that hadn't changed when you had followed him to the First Order. Although you were excellent at your job, you didn't much care for the strict rules, and part of you had always enjoyed winding your brother up by constantly rebelling. You didn't intend to change just because Kylo Ren had killed someone who had once been in your position.
"I get the message, Armitage." You flashed him a cheeky grin, "I'll stay out of trouble."
"Why do I fear that is simply not true." He pinched the bridge of his nose - he knew you far too well.
A week went by before you met the infamous Kylo Ren, and in that time you had prided yourself on making your brother's life more and more difficult every day. However, you kept doing your job and doing it well at that. You were popular amongst other officers, mostly because of the way you could get away with relentlessly teasing the General.
The day you met Commander Ren, he had attended a meeting which you and your brother were both apart of. Knowing that he was there and that he allegedly hated Armitage, you remained on your best behaviour. You would rather not have him hate you simply by association with your family name. However, you slipped up at the end of the meeting, unable to prevent yourself from teasing your brother when he walked himself into an easy joke.
"-and I expect to see you all training this afternoon in preparation for your upcoming missions."
"I don't think I've ever seen you step foot in the training room, General." You laughed, "how would you know if we're there or not?" A few sniggers rose from around the table, and immediately you felt Ren's eyes burning a hole in the side of your head. When you met his gaze you could read his expression with ease: curiosity. He wondered who would possibly speak to Hux that way, and who could possibly get away with it.
"Watch your tone, Leuitenant Hux." Your brother was bright red in the face, mostly because he was embarrassed that there was truth behind your words, and also because he knew that Ren was in the room.
You noticed the Commander's eyes widen slightly as he most likely put two and two together, you were just silently praying that he didn't decide to decapitate you just because you were related to his arch-nemesis.
On the contrary, however, he actually spoke and his words truly surprised you. "Perhaps the Lieutenant has a point, General. Sometimes it's best to lead by example." He had a deep voice and an undeniably attractive face... Maker, if Armitage knew that you found Kylo Ren in the least bit attractive he would probably eject himself into space. But then again, you did perhaps see it as an opportunity for some fun.
It didn't take long for your brother to adjourn the meeting after being mocked by not only you but also Kylo Ren. As you rose from your seat you moved to exit and walk by Armitage, but he grabbed your arm to hold you back for a moment.
"Y/N, I am at the end of my tether with you." He sternly told you, "why is it that you cannot simply do your job without the foolish comments? And Maker help me will I one day see you in the correct uniform?" He may as well have had steam coming from his ears. He looked as though he would spontaneously combust at any given moment, which only caused you to try and stifle a laugh which threatened to escape your lips.
"Hux, a word?" Kylo Ren's approaching voice saved you from your imminent scolding, and you both turned to face him.
"Not now Ren, I'm busy." Your brother snapped, but Ren was visibly unphased by this tone, something told you he was possibly even amused by it.
"Lieutenant Hux, not you." He nonchalantly clarified, and you furrowed your brow at him.
"Is there a problem, Sir?" You asked.
"So you'll show respect to Ren, but not me... typical." Armitage scoffed under his breath, and you simply elbowed him in response.
"Don't mind my brother, Armitage is just concerned that you'll kill me for being associated with him." You shrugged as your attention returned to Kylo.
"I'd sooner kill you than I would her, Armitage." Ren snorted, mocking the general as the two of you walked away from him. It was written all over his face that he couldn't possibly comprehend that his little sister and arch-nemesis were possibly about to gang up on him.
As you departed alongside Ren, you were both silent. Only when you left the bridge and fell into stride in the corridor did he speak.
"I didn't know Hux had a sister." He plainly said, and you exhaled a short laugh.
"Yes well, I don't do his uptight image any favours, so I think he tends to keep me a secret." You snorted, "not to mention he's convinced that you'll kill me just to get at him."
"Who's to say I won't?" Kylo Ren was clearly trying to get the measure of you, so that question was a challenge, you knew that.
"I'm still breathing, aren't I? If you were really going to kill me to get at Armitage you'd at least do it in front of him." You shrugged as if the whole threat didn't bother you in the slightest.
He hummed in response, changing the subject, "you're not much like Hux."
"I should hope not." You laughed, "I was always the fun one... much to Armitage's distaste."
"He doesn't seem to appreciate your sense of humour." He said this whilst giving a pointed look at your obviously incorrect uniform.
"Well, that's my brother for you. But correct me if I'm wrong Sir, you don't exactly strike me as the 'fun' type either." You raised an eyebrow.
"That depends on what you call 'fun.'" When he looked at you, you could have sworn you saw a mischievous smirk forming on his lips.
As the weeks went by, you and Ren spent more time together - rather, he seemed to spend more time around you. It was like he purposely timed his schedule to coincide with yours, and you weren't mad about that at all. The more time you spent with him, the more attractive he became, and stars you had been particularly enjoying watching him train most days.
You still spent much of your time pestering your brother, but even he had simply grown used to it by now. He made conscious efforts to sit and have an evening meal with you a few times a week, and despite all of his irksome mannerisms, you appreciated how much he cared about you.
"Phasma tells me you've been spending an awful lot of time with Ren in the training room." Trying to act nonchalant about it, Armitage casually brought his cup of caf up to his lips. You meanwhile found it amusing that he was indulging in gossip simply because it involved you and Kylo.
"Perhaps it's just a coincidence that we're there at the same time." You smirked at the mere thought of watching Ren when he's training, but you had to snap yourself out of it.
"I highly doubt that." He snorted, "I imagine he's waiting for an opportunity to strike you down."
"Are you perhaps being a bit paranoid?"  You raised an eyebrow. You found it amusing that your brother was so caught up in his feud with Kylo Ren that he hadn't for one second thought that Kylo might have been following you because he liked you.
"No, I'm telling you Y/N, he's dangerous. He has no redeeming qualities." He hissed.
"I wouldn't go that far." You shrugged, kicking your feet up onto Armitage's desk, much to his dismay, "he's hot, I'd call that a redeeming quality."
Now your boots on his desk were the least of his problems, upon hearing your words he choked on his caf, coughing and spluttering for a few moments. You were still sat calmly, smirking as you enjoyed watching his overreaction.
"You are to stay away from him Y/N, do you understand?" His face was redder than Kylo's Lightsaber at this point, and you weren't sure if he was angry at Ren for allegedly leading his sister astray, or embarrassed by your comment about Kylo being hot... perhaps a combination of the two.
"Don't hold your breath, Armitage."  You playfully winked at him before leaving his office.
"Y/N!" He called after you, "I'm serious, stay away from him!"
"Yep, I hear you." You sarcastically called to him, turning back around as you walked. Before you could straighten up again you collided with what felt like a brick wall, but when two hands took ahold of your waist to steady you, you realised who it was.
"Maker, why do I even bother?" You could hear Hux exclaim from his office, "Keep your hands off my sister Ren." He then yelled, turning tail and storming back into his office.
"Sorry, he just really hates you." You teased, "me not hating you is probably his worst nightmare."
Kylo usually showed up at random points throughout your day, but considering that this meeting with Armitage hadn't been on your schedule, it was truly surprising to see him. You were suspicious that the Force was somehow involved.
"And I assume he's asked you to stay away from me." He hummed as you walked side by side, heading towards your office where there was likely a stack of datapads for you to go through before turning in for the night. Kylo had taken to sitting in there with you and keeping you company whilst you worked. Somedays you wondered if he ever actually did any of his own work.
"You tell me, you were the one eavesdropping." You had a knowing smirk on your lips, whilst he looked like he had just been caught red-handed.
"I-uh, I didn't want to interrupt." He sheepishly said.
"Did you hear anything you liked?" There was a suggestive edge to your tone now. Whilst you found him undeniably attractive, there was also the added benefit of pissing off Armitage beyond belief by doing the polar opposite of staying away from Kylo.
He picked up on this tone and looked at you quizzically for a moment. It wasn't long before a mischievous grin appeared on his lips. "Something about my redeeming qualities maybe?" You had both stopped walking at this point, simply staring at each other to the point where you could have cut the sexual tension with a knife.
"Y'know, I just remembered that I need to go back to my quarters to pick something up." You eventually broke the silence, hoping that Ren would get the idea.
"Lead the way." He said, trying to keep his tone level as he remembered that you were both still out in the open.
Your quarters wasn't a far walk, but it felt like miles with the ever-building tension. You wanted nothing more than to finally see if Kylo Ren was as good in bed as he was in the training room. When you rounded the final corner, you pulled him through the blast doors without warning which sent him colliding into you, which you used as an opportunity to capture his lips in a steamy kiss - something you had both wanted to do for a long time.
He wasted no time in pushing you back against the nearest wall, his tongue eagerly exploring your mouth as you began to pull at his endless layers of clothing. Before you could remove too many layers, he was mumbling at you to show him where the bedroom was, and it was safe to say that you never made it to your office that evening.
After multiple rounds, Kylo spent the night, and when morning broke you decided to ditch your schedule and spend time in bed with him, just aimlessly talking.
"What is it about you?" He asked in his deep voice, "you're all I've been able to think about." He confessed.
"I noticed." You teased him, "following me around like a shadow."
"Coming from you, that's funny." He smirked. "I've been hearing your thoughts since you first got here, it's like you've been projecting them to me."
You realised just how many times you had thought about Kylo since you had first met him and on some occasions, you had definitely thought about him in less than appropriate scenarios. Although looking at your current situation, that had probably worked out in your favour.
"So what exactly is it about me then? Just that you can hear my thoughts?" You slowly began tracing your finger up and down his bare chest.
"I don't know." He mused, "I should hate you."
"What, just because of my brother?" You laughed, "you said it yourself, I'm not much like him."
"And I'd rather keep it that way." Kylo snorted, leaning in to kiss you again, but he was interrupted by a loud hammering at the door.
"Y/N you have missed three meetings this morning. So help me, you had best have a good excuse-" Armitage's angry rambling continued at the door, you and Kylo exchanging a look from your spot on the bed. With a heavy sigh, you moved to get up and dressed but Kylo placed a hand on your shoulder.
"I'll get it." He said, and you looked at him with a mischievous grin on your face.
"You're evil Kylo, you know that."
"Especially where your brother is concerned." He grunted, walking to the blast door wearing just a pair of loose trousers.
When the door swung open, Hux's jaw practically hit the floor, his face immediately turning a bright shade of red.
"Ren." He snarled, "what in the stars are you doing in my sister's quarters?"
"She needed a good excuse to avoid her meetings." He smugly looked at Armitage, clearly revelling in his sheer rage.
Slowly glancing over Kylo's shoulder, he saw you laying on the bed with the sheets pooled around your body to cover it, and if he hadn't put two and two together already, now it was staring him right in the face.
"Sorry Armitage, Commander Ren personally excused me from my meetings. Did you not get the message?"
"My sister..." He looked at Kylo, his words coming out as a low growl. "MY LITTLE SISTER?" This time he yelled, and you couldn't help but burst into laughter from your spot on the bed, burying your face in the pillow to stifle the cackles.
Kylo made a point of looking back at you, then to Armitage, then to you, then back to Armitage. "Yes, she was the last time I checked." He raised an eyebrow, enjoying your brother's blinding rage far too much.
"I swear Ren I am going to end your miserable little life in the most painful, unimaginable way possible, and even when you beg for death I will show you no mercy. I will-" Hux was jabbing his finger in Kylo's face, but he remained completely unphased.
"-ooookay Armitage, I think that's quite enough for today." Holding the sheets around your body you shuffled over and pushed your brother out of the room. Before the doors could shut you glanced at Kylo who just gave you a pointed look and small shrug, "oh, and I think I'll need the rest of the day off as well." With that you let the doors slam in Armitage's face, and fell back into Kylo's arms.
As you dropped the sheets and relaxed into the kiss, you could both hear Armitage's last yell as he stormed out of your quarters.
"Dead, Ren... DEAD!"
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