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kermits-room · 4 years ago

Text

attack on titan various x reader

gang au, street racing au

y/n l/n is a well known street racer and gangster that goes by the suprisingly cute nickname bunny, apart of the gang the survey corps leaves her doing some pretty disturbing things.

why don’t you follow her along on her adventure?

part one

Mortuus Finem Masterlist

You could always hear y/n l/n before you could see her, whether it be the overly loud music booming through her speakers or the revving of her engine, even the squealing of her wheels as she turned corners.

Levi couldn’t help but click his tongue at the sound of The Notorious B.I.G.’s ’Hypnotize’ drawing closer and the screeching of tires as they turned corners echoing throughout the area.

Soon enough the pink car came zooming into view, she didn’t lie when she said it would only take her five minutes.

The car came to a rampageous stop between Levi and Erwin’s vehicles a cheering Hange in the passenger seat looking a bit whiter than usual, after all these years she wasn’t used to y/n’s reckless driving.

"Turn that shit down!“ the ravenette snapped at the (h/c)ed girl who flashed him her middle finger before highering the music up, Hange screeching the lyrics.

Levi scoffed moving his hand towards his door handle ready to get out of his car and turn it off himself a panicking Hange smashing the power off button before the small raven-haired male could get out and murder them both.

“You’re such a buzz kill Levi” y/n swung her car door open stepping out of the automobile, Hange following suit rushing to the hood of the car to inspect it before the small girl’s race.

There were a few squeals of admiration from the large group that surrounded the area as the duo stepped out of the car. "I don’t know why you’re getting out of your car Bunny, you’re up in five” Levi hissed out his window as he watched the small girl dig her hands into her handbag whipping out a packet of Marlboro cigarettes.

“give it a rest corporal” the (s/c)ed girl placed the smoke between her teeth sparking it up with her playboy bunny lighter earning her yet another scoff from Levi “you couldn’t have done that in your car? no?” the ravenette raised an eyebrow and y/n shook her head “it’ll stink up my baby” she patted the car lovingly and Levi rolled his eyes motioning for the girl to pass him the packet of cigarettes stepping out of his car.

“you couldn’t have done that in your car?” y/n teased as she took a drag of the cigarette chucking the white packet to the male in front of her who stuck up his middle finger in response.

y/n was the personification of beauty, she had (h/c) (h/l) hair and (e/c) eyes that always shined with playfulness and delight, sparkling white teeth and clear skin, her nails always perfectly manicured, her eccentric outfits always looking just right on her although they would look extremely strange on anyone else. Although she was on the shorter side, 5'0 to be exact, she still outshined everyone else.

“You’re all good to go” Hange appeared to her left and y/n nodded flicking the butt of the cigarette to the floor before swooping back into her car the door slamming behind her. “You coming with me, Hange?” she glanced up to the brunette who shook her head “not tonight Bun” they sighed and the small girl huffed as she put her sunglasses on.

A pointless thing to do during the night but it was like a tradition to wear a pair of thin all-black sunglasses when she raced.

“Pull Up!!” Petra Ral beckoned towards the starting line where two other cars sat idly. Petra was the survey corps flag girl, she was kind and pretty she was well-liked and normally started all races that the survey corps were in.

“hasta la vista baby“ y/n winked at her two friends who waved goodbye to her as she pulled forward her engine revving as she pulled to a stop between the two cars, to her left Ymir sat happily in her Subaru WRX STI, Historia relaxing contentedly in the passenger seat the duo waving hello to her, they were driving independent tonight which was normal contrary to popular belief.

Annie on the other hand looked a lot more serious, she was parked to y/n’s right in her Miata ND MX, a beautiful car if y/n may say so herself. “Jesus Leonheart who shit in your cereal” the small girl called over to her blonde friend who scoffed.

“Nile Dok did, fucking ruining my mood” Annie called back and y/n laughed quietly “leave the damn military police, they’re good for nothing, there’s always room for you with us” y/n smiled and the blonde waved her off turning her attention back to the road in front of her.

The next car to pull up was a Honda Integra Type DC5 an angry-looking male resting in the driver’s seat, y/n had to admit that she had never seen him before.

The small girl shrugged to herself more than anyone else as she scrolled through her playlist her finger landing on Azealia Banks’s ’212’ and she pressed play the song echoing through her speakers.

“Are you ready?” Petra shouted as she pointed to Ymir who revved her engine twice “are you ready?” she pointed to y/n next who stomped on her gas the sound of her engine revving making Petra move on the small girl smiled to herself highering up her music to drown out Petra’s questions.

The ginger girl raised her green flags in the air before slamming them down towards the floor. The four cars floor it, their tires squealing as they all surge forward.

y/n’s hand finds the gear stick switching gears quickly her eyes never moving off the road, Annie was ahead of her, Ymir slightly behind her whilst the man in the Honda Integra was left in the dust.

y/n shifted in her seat her eyes drifting to the speedometer 100MPH, she was waiting for the perfect moment, bopping her head to the music echoing through her car as she applies more pressure to the accelerator.

120MPH the (h/c)ed girl is now in check with Annie’s Miata the blonde glancing towards her before turning her attention back to the road. The world outside is a blur, the wind whistling through the windows her (hc) hair flapping wildly in the breeze.

y/n drives with irreproachable accuracy as her nose twitches, it was almost as if she was combined with the car as she throws a lazy glance towards a now agitated looking Annie a scowl on her features.

Ymir had also been left in the dust.

Annie glances at her and they hold eye contact for a split second, y/n throwing her car into fifth gear and hitting the switch for her nitro, she was now slightly ahead of Annie, the blonde had used her nitro at the beginning of the race, a stupid move in y/n’s opinion.

The car shudders 145MPH, the wind bursting through the windows had to be the most irritating thing y/n had ever experienced leaning her hand down to repeat the song ’212’ hiring it up considerably to block out the sound of the hissing wind.

The finish line was so close that y/n could almost taste victory as Annie began inching closer once again, the blonde girl crushes the steering wheel in her hands as she mutters a string of curses, speeding up, even more, to come once again bumper to bumper with y/n’s Pink S14 Kouki JDM.

y/n curses under her breath as she implements even more pressure to her accelerator passing Annie by a meter give or take 150MPH zooming past the crowd that stood on each side of the road signifying the finish line.

The (s/c)ed girl throws the car into neutral, her foot drilling onto the brake pedal, her car screeching as it came to a half stop as it swerved in a U shape coming to a squealing stop as Annie crossed the finish line, Ymir trailing after her, the man from earlier still nowhere to be seen.

“fucking hell I thought you were gonna crash” Annie commented as she slapped y/n’s back a small chuckle escaping her mouth as y/n moved her sunglasses to perch atop her head “never” the small girl winked at the blonde who snickered again.

“fuck, you two take your rivalry seriously” Ymir called as she patted y/n’s head, Historia latched to her right arm “congrats y/n!” the miniature blonde cheered as she ditched Ymir to give her best friend a bone-crushing hug.

“thanks cutie” y/n hugged Historia back, Ymir smacking her head lightly “stop trying to steal my fucking girlfriend!” the tall brunette joked as the four girls conversed amongst themselves waiting for their respective gangs and y/n’s prize.

The squealing of tires stopped the four girls glancing up to see the white Honda Integra Type DC5 skidding to a stop a few meters away from them the male hopping out of the car angrily, storming towards the girls.

“you fucking cheated!” he roared glaring at the women “women cant race! it’s obvious you fucking cheated!” he shrieked out and y/n snickered “are you a sore loser buddy?” she pouted mockingly and the man lurched forward his fist raised as y/n sidestepped him pulling a Glock 19 from her handbag pointing it threateningly at the man.

“sit the fuck down bitch boy” she hissed causing Ymir to start cackling the crowd ’oohing’ at the sight of the black gun held lazily in y/n’s hands. “Bitch” the man spat as y/n clicked off the saftey raising an eyebrow “excuse you?” she stepped forward, giving the dumb man a chance to change his words.

“calm down bunny, do you know how hard it is to hide a body? and we have all these damn witnesses” Erwin’s voice cut through Ymir’s cackling and y/n turned her gaze to the blonde, Levi and Hange standing beside him.

“fuck off you little prick” Levi spat at the man who now cowered on the floor scampering off towards his car. Ymir began to howl, tears forming in her eyes as she doubled over laughing, Historia giggling quietly as she patted her girlfriends back.

“Sorry about that” the group turned their attention away from the cackling Ymir and to Keith Shadis who held a briefcase of money in his hand a group loitering behind him. “damn! he was with you, Keith! I almost shot him in the face” y/n wheezed out as she wiped a tear from her right eye and the man nodded.

“Sorry again, at least he paid his share before he ran off, as promised one million yen” the bald man passed the girl the briefcase and she nodded thanking him. “keep your brats under control” Levi commented as y/n passed him the case.

“drop it, Lev, it’s cool” the small girl patted the ravenette’s shoulder and he scoffed “whatever, he’s just lucky Erwin was here or else that bitch would have his brains splattered on the floor” the raven-haired man stalked off towards his car.

“y/n! I thought you were gonna crash!” Hange cried out as they leapt towards the girl taking her to the floor “come on captain, you should know I never crash” y/n struggled under her friend’s grip and the brunette continued to wail about how worried she was.

“Excuse me–” the two stopped rolling around on the floor glancing up to the new voice, a boy stood where Erwin did moments ago, his cheeks flushed red as he glanced around nervously “I’m a big fan!” the brunette squeaked out and y/n and Hange shared an odd look. “thank you?” her answer came out like a question more than anything.

“I want to join the survey corp!” he announced as y/n and Hange got up from the floor glancing at Erwin who held in a snicker “uh–” y/n tried to think of a response as she glanced around.

“Cops will be here in five!" Ankia shrieked down Hange’s walkie talkie and all hell broke loose as everyone ran around looking for cars to get in, Annie offered to give a ride to Keith and some of his students which he took gratefully the group of five rushing towards the blue Miata ND MX, Ymir taking a few others whilst, Erwin ran off towards Levi.

“Get in the damn car!” y/n hollered as she and Hange took off towards her pink S14 Kouki JDM, unlocking the car, the three remaining three jumping into the backseat the doors barley closing as y/n stomped on the gas the back of the car swaying slightly before shooting off.

It was a struggle to get through the crowds of panicking people, the motorway to the left of the tunnel they had just raced in jammed filled with cars all trying to get away. y/n let out a quiet grunt of distaste as she weaved in and out of the crowds of cars, Hange yapping away to the three in the back as they finally got out of the crowd.

“Can I have the AUX, bunny?” Hange turned to look at the (h/c)ed girl who had her eyebrows furrowed a scowl on her face not bothering to respond to the brunette taking that as a yes as she plugged her phone in, allowing Rick Astley’s ‘never gonna give you up’ to flow through the car speakers.

“Turn that shit off Hange!” y/n snapped as she took another sharp turn the sounds of sirens approching causing her to speed up glancing into her rearview mirror before statching Hange’s phone and clicking ‘killshot’ before dropping it back into her friends lap.

Her right hand gripped the wheel tightly her left holding the gear stick her knuckles turning white. “they’re behind us!” y/n heard one of the people in the backseat squeak out and she hissed quietly.

Her foot pressed on the gas harder as she switched gears once again, lifting the emergency break and drifting around a sharp corner, Hange letting out a quiet squeal as she clung to the seat.

y/n changed gears once more, her gaze flicking up to the rearview mirror again groaning in frustration, stepping on the gas pedal harder 130MPH throwing the wheel to her left cutting through open traffic as Hange and the three in the back screamed in horror as they barley missed being smashed by a truck.

The cops were stuck behind the traffic as y/n pulled up the emergency brake again the car cruising to the right, down a narrow alley the girl turning off the car quickly, her eyes fastened on the rearview mirror as the rest of the occupants of the car held their breaths.

y/n was calm as Hange grabbed her hand nervously the small girl watching as the four police cars sped right by them letting out a quiet laugh, the police were idiots. The ringing of her phone made Hange release her the girl lifting the phone to her ears.

”Hello!“ y/n’s voice was chipper as she held her phone with her head and shoulder. ”did you get out?“ Levi questioned and the small girl hummed ”of course mon amour, they drove right by me“ she smiled and she could hear Levi’s eye roll from the other side of the line. ”whatever you damn brat, get home soon“ the man paused for a moment ”and stay safe, please“

the line went dead.

“jeez, I’m hungry? do you guys want some mcdonalds?” the girl turned her head to look at the three in her back seat, they were all toppled on top of eachother, their fault for not wearing their seatbelts y/n thought to herself as the brunette from earlier nodded shakily.

“good! I’m starved!”

🂡 🂡 🂡 🂡 🂡 🂡 🂡 🂡 🂡

The five were packed into a booth in McDonald’s y/n shovelling McNuggets into her mouth like a starved child as she hummed happily to herself her legs swinging back and forth as she swayed her body left and right like a little dance, Hange scranning a McFlurry whilst the three just stared at their food.

"You’re so good!” the brunette finally spoke as he grabbed y/n’s free hand the girl raising an eyebrow “thank you!” she smiled as she pulled her hand away gulping her sprite.

“How did you learn to drive like that?!” the blonde that sat beside the raven-haired female questioned tilting his head and y/n chewed on her chicken nugget holding up a finger swallowing the food “my dad!” she explained simply and the blonde nodded.

“what age are you?” the ravenette who held a strange resemblance to Levi asked and y/n glanced to Hange who shrugged "nineteen!“ the (h/c)ed girl grinned as she held up ten fingers, Hange holding up nine.

“us too!” the brunette grinned and y/n nodded as her phone rang again, swiping the screen clumsly.

“Jesus Lev! this is like the fifth time you’ve called me today, do you miss me that much?” she teased as the ravenette huffed “will you just come home already, Erwin is pestering me” he snapped and y/n groaned “sure whatever, let me drop these guys home, give me like twenty minutes” she huffed and Levi paused on the other line again “ten” and yet again the line went dead

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kermits-room · 4 years ago

Note

Your writing is amazing, and all those prompts are great! :) Could I request number 17 for Saeyoung with a female MC? Hurt/Comfort, and NSFW, please. Thank you so much, have a great day!

THANK YOU! <3

So here, let me tell you what happened...

I looked at this prompt and I thought about Saeyoung (let’s be real, I’m always thinking about Saeyoung) and my brain screamed CABIN, CABIN, and I realized...oh my god, in all the thousands of words of Saeyoung X Reader fanfiction I’ve written, I’ve somehow never written my version of their (probably) canon first time.

So I DID IT! And it’s long af cause...well, of course it is.

seventeen: i came here for sanctuary

Saeyoung X Reader, E (M/F sex), words: 6930 (!!)

Smut warning, proceed with caution ♡

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

The sun sinks behind the trees, the last streaks of yellow melting from the sky. Gravel crunches beneath the sleek little car’s wheels as it slows to a stop. The only light is from the phone in your hand—you can’t see anything outside the windows but dark, dark, dark.

“Wait,” Saeyoung whispers. “Just a minute.”

He turns off the car and without its rumbling the silence feels louder. You sit absolutely still and your heart pounds.

Saeyoung holds out his hand and, wordlessly, you pass him his phone. He pulls up a new GPS, one you don’t know how to read; zooms in; breathes a sigh of relief.

“Okay,” he says, louder. “We’re safe here.”

With that, he flings open the door, and you realize you must have absolute trust in him after all as you follow suit, stepping out into the unknown.

Outside, you can see a little more. There’s no moon tonight, but the stars are huge here, and by their light to make your way around the car, stand beside Saeyoung as he opens the trunk. He passes your backpack to you and slings the other, larger bag over his shoulder. He does this quickly, quietly, as if it’s a routine. Finding a safe house in the dark, unpacking the car in silence—for him, you suppose, it is a routine.

“Um, maybe we should—” He hesitates, awkwardly holds out a hand to you. You grin.

“Do you still need an excuse to hold my hand?” You slip your hand into his larger, warmer one, and he interlaces his fingers with yours.

“I’ll take any excuse I can get,” he says, winking, and you feel calmer. You’d follow this man to the ends of the earth, you think.

Hand-in-hand, you walk up the gravel path. You can see now that he’s parked beside a smallish cabin—it looks built by hand, the kind you’ve seen in reality shows (“fashionable young couple leaves it all behind for a rustic cabin in the woods!”) You weren’t sure things like this existed. Of course they do, you tell yourself. Stupid.

Saeyoung pulls a ring of keys you’ve never seen before out of the side pocket of his bag and spins it around, inserting a little, unlabelled key into the door. You raise your eyebrows.

“Come here often?”

He laughs and the sound warms you up from the inside: you loved his laugh the very first time you heard it, what feels like a lifetime ago. You love the way he giggles when you tease him and the way he cackles when he’s proud of himself and the way he laughs like this—bubbly, like he finds everything you do and say impossibly delightful.

“It’s actually an old agency hideout,” he says. “I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea at first, but it doesn’t seem like anyone’s been here for years.”

He pushes the door open and you follow him inside; you’re immediately hit by a wave of cold and a damp, musky scent. You don’t mind it—it reminds you of the basement of the home you lived in as a child.

“I think there’s…somewhere around here…” He pushes ahead, muttering to himself, and you wait in the doorway, keeping it cracked so he can see by the lights of the stars. “Ah-ha!” A dim light flickers on.

Saeyoung sighs, turning around to survey the room.

“This isn’t a place for someone like you,” he says, gesturing vaguely at the furnishings—it’s a single room, with an out-of-use fireplace and some boxes full of you-don’t-want-to-know-what stacked in one corner. There’s also a little work station and (you feel a little thrill dance up your spine) a single, slightly lumpy bed pushed against the back wall.

Nice bed. Plenty of room for…activities, whispers a voice in the back of your mind—it’s a gremlin, you think, a silly, horny gremlin, hiding in the recesses of your imagination. Shut up, you tell the gremlin.

“I like it,” you say aloud. “I could live here.” You shut the door and the click echoes in the little room.

You feel Saeyoung’s eyes on you and turn; he’s still standing in the middle of the room, watching you with a sort of reverence on his face.

“You’re amazing,” he says.

Leap into his arms and kiss him breathless, the gremlin says, and you bite your lip, hushing your inner voice. Your neck feels hot.

“You’re the amazing one,” you tell him. For some reason the air in the cabin is reverberating like a plucked string and you’re afraid if you get any closer to him the string will snap. You edge around the outer wall, drop your backpack on the bare mattress, perch on the edge of the bed. “You got us this far.”

He turns to follow you with his eyes, watching as you nervously fiddle with the straps of your bag. There’s a strange expression on his face and you don’t know what to do with your body.

He shakes his head as if to clear it and then abruptly turns from you, crosses to the little desk on the opposite wall, starts pulling things out of his bag with a little too much fervor.

“Will you be okay for a while?” he asks quietly, his back turned. “I just have to…” He waves a hand at the two laptops he’s set on the desk.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He turns to look at you now, and he’s still got that strange, conflicted look on his face. He starts to say something, stops himself. Swallows.

“You can try and keep yourself warm,” he says. “The fireplace would be too big a risk, if it even still works, but check the closet by the bathroom. I think there’s a space heater in there, and there should definitely be blankets.”

And before you can respond he’s all business again, plugging things into other things; there’s already a low hum emitting from one of the computers.

So you do as you’re told: slip out of your shoes, pad across the unfinished wood floor in your thick socks. Open the closet, start peering into the mysterious boxes there. Find, by some miracle, the old, dusty space heater. Get it going.

You wrap yourself up as tightly as you possibly can in one of the thick, stiff blankets you found neatly folded in the closet and curl up on the bare mattress. And you wait.

Time passes.

The sound of his keyboard is like a lullaby to you, nowadays, and you drift between sleep and wakefulness, your head swimming with thoughts of him: the beautiful curve of his cheekbones as he drives into the sunset, the buzzy delight of his fingers on your thigh, the cautious way he brushes his lips over yours on those brief, stolen moments of rest between driving, driving, driving…

The typing stops and your eyes fly open, blinking at him through the flickering light from the single lamp. His back is straight; his fingers aren’t moving.

You call his name. Repeat it.

“Yeah?” His voice sounds rough and you untangle your legs from the blanket. You want to ask if he’s okay but already know the answer.

“How’s it going?” you ask instead—vaguely, lamely. You twist the thick fabric of the blanket in your fingers. What a silly, meaningless question.

“We’ll definitely catch up to him tomorrow,” Saeyoung says hollowly. You consider going to him, wrapping your arms around his tense shoulders, but you don’t know if he’ll let you—the physical affection between you is so new, so tenuous.

“I’m glad,” you say, because it’s the truth.

He twists around in his chair to peer at you. There are familiar dark circles under his eyes, worry written on his soft features.

“You’re not scared?” he asks.

“A little,” you tell him. “But I trust you.”

He sighs, pushes his glasses up, runs one shaky hand over his face. “You have too much faith in me.”

“You’ve given me no reason not to have faith in you.” You unwind yourself more from the big blanket. The space heater has worked, filling the room with smoky warmth. “Are you scared?” you ask.

He cocks his head to the side as if he’s considering it and, with some surprise, says, “Yeah, I think…I am.”

“What are you scared of?” you ask, not sure if he’ll tell you.

He drums his fingers on his knee, looks around the little room as if stalling for time. “Disappearing,” he says at last.

Oh, how you want to run to him. Kiss the lines of worry off his face and hold him till he melts into you.

“I’m not going to let you go anywhere,” you tell him firmly. You’re not sure why, but you feel very confident about this.

“Thank you,” he says. “But…” He’s looking down at his lap now. “I set up my life so I could disappear without a trace whenever I needed to. So if I do…go away…there’d be nothing left of me. It’d be like I was never here.”

That’s it—you can’t take it anymore. You’ve got no more patience—not when he’s got that frightened, empty look on his face.

“Come here,” you say, and you open your arms. His cheeks immediately flush pink, and you’re relieved to see embarrassment take the place of hopelessness on his face.

“O-onto the bed?” he stammers, and you grin—because the capable, strong man who you trust with your life is also this hopelessly innocent, charmingly awkward boy, turning bright red at the mere thought of letting you hold him.

“Only if you want to,” you say in your sweetest voice, and he quietly groans.

“Who could say no to that?” he mutters to himself, and you try to stifle a giggle as he swings his leg over the chair and stumbles the few feet to the bed. You wait for him patiently, arms open—cautiously, avoiding your gaze, he crawls toward you, and as he nuzzles his head hesitantly against your chest you fold him into your arms.

“Better?” you ask him.

“Yes, and…no,” he says. You can feel his heart pounding through both his t-shirt and hoodie, and it seems like he doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands. One rests just above your hip, just barely touching you, like he’s not sure whether or not he’s supposed to.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask him. With one hand, you play with a stray curl that’s fallen over his face; his skin feels hot on your fingertips.

“I don’t wanna say,” he murmurs.

You brush the hair off his forehead and then, because you just want to, you press a single, soft kiss to his hairline. He shudders.

“Tell me,” you say. Saeyoung has been still as a statue this whole time; now, his hand shifts, putting just the tiniest bit of pressure on your hip. He’s still barely touching you but suddenly you know what he’s thinking, and it’s like an electric current runs through your body and sets your blood on fire. The gremlin chants its encouragement from deep within your mind.

“If…” he says cautiously, and you feel his lips through your shirt as he speaks softly into your chest. Your heart misses a beat. “If tonight is our last night, I just…want to do one thing.”

“It’s not our last night,” you tell him, and your voice sounds too loud, and somehow your focus is narrowing, narrowing so all you can feel is his hand against your hip. You continue working your fingers through his hair, a little more roughly now; he squirms against you and grips your hip harder, harder.

“I hope not,” he whispers. “But if—just in case—can I…be a bit selfish to you?”

You’ve got goosebumps.

“You can do anything you want to me,” you say, and as soon as the words are out of your mouth you feel you’ve gone too far. The gremlin is roaring.

His head shoots up and suddenly you’re overwhelmed by the intensity of his eyes, his face mere inches from yours.

“Wh-what?” he stammers. His face is flushed and his pupils are huge; he’s looking at you like he’s never seen anything quite like you before. And maybe his shyness emboldens you, or maybe you’re drunk on the burning feeling of his fingers on your skin, but you take a deep breath and plunge ahead.

“You can do anything you want,” you repeat slowly, looking down into his beautiful, molten eyes. “To me.”

He audibly gulps. There’s a hard, desperate look on his face. You’ve caught glimpses of this expression before, when he’s kissed you, hands at your back, breathing hard against your lips—but he’s always pulled away, cut things off before they went too far.

Now, he’s not pulling away.

“I want to kiss you,” he breathes.

“So kiss me.”

And he does, slowly closing the distance between you, brushing his lips against yours with so much tenderness and care. He’s holding back, you can tell—wound so tight he’s barely moving, as if he’s terrified of whatever lives underneath his carefully curated exterior.

You part your lips and he trembles and—keep going, hisses the gremlin—you deepen the kiss, sweep the tip of your tongue over his bottom lip.

“Mmmm,” you hum, relishing the sweet-salty taste of him, and you weave one hand into the base of his messy curls.

This breaks him. He swivels abruptly, crashing his hips into yours, kissing you harder now—clumsy, rough, electric, wonderful. Delighted by his sudden ferocity, you mold into him, raking your hands down the back of his neck.

He pulls back a fraction of an inch, panting, a wild look on his face.

“I…s-sorry…” he pants. “I c-can’t…”

“Tell me what else you want,” you say. You run a hand up his chest and feel his muscles tensing, his body vibrating.

“I—I want to…” His eyes roam your body and he’s never looked at you quite like this before and—oh god, you think, you didn’t know you could want somebody this much.“I want to…touch you,” he says, his voice low.

The gremlin cheers.

“Touch me where?” you whisper. You roll your hips under his and he moans, grasping desperately at your shoulders with bruising fingers.

“N-not fair,” he hisses. Then he’s kissing you again, more confidently this time, lips parted and hands skimming down your arms, across your torso. Your shirt has ridden up and his calloused fingertips graze your bare skin, making you dizzy, so you wrap your legs around his waist, pull him against you—he groans, kissing you ferociously, breathlessly. Every point of contact between you burns icy-hot.

You break the kiss and gasp for air. Saeyoung looks totally undone, his eyes unfocused, pupils blown huge as he hovers over you. More, screams your mind gremlin, and you silently agree. Your fingers rove over his chest, under his unzipped hoodie.

“Can I take this off?” you murmur. He nods, looking dazed and a little helpless, and you slip it easily off his shoulders, run your hands down his arms. He’s got goosebumps, too. “Is this okay?” you ask him, fingers dancing over his torso now, under his t-shirt.

“Yeah,” he pants, following your questing hands with his eyes. “Um, can I…?”

“Please,” you say. You lean back a little and he cautiously slips a hand under your shirt. His fingers tickle—you giggle—his face breaks into a smile.

“You’re so soft,” he whispers, exploring the sensitive skin of your belly with one tentative hand. You moan softly, encouraging him, and his hand slides over your ribcage—pausing when he hits the lacy bottom edge of your bra. He looks down, his cheeks reddening again. “I don’t…know what to do with this,” he mutters. It’s your turn to grin. The genius secret agent slash hacker, taken down by a bra.

“Here,” you say. You pull yourself into a sitting position and he rocks back on his heels; you grab your shirt with both hands and easily lift it off, toss it aside.

Saeyoung looks positively enraptured.

“Y-you are…” he stammers. His awe is adorable and charming but the gremlin yells touch me more, dammit, so you take his hand and guide it to your skin, stroking down from your throat all the way to your belly button.

“Now what are you thinking?” you ask him. You lean back and let him explore you with both hands—he is meticulous, running his fingertips over every inch of exposed skin.

“I’m thinking…” He’s red again. “To be honest, I kind of never thought I’d be in this position.”

You giggle. “S-sorry!” you say. “I just…looking at a girl in a bra?”

He chuckles awkwardly, his hands at your waist, his eyes lowered. “Yeah,” he says. “Exactly.”

“Oh, then boy do I have a surprise for you.” Before he can respond, you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him again. He kisses you back hard, grasping at your sides as if holding on for dear life. You trust his grip and slip your hands behind you, unhooking your bra.

Saeyoung realizes what’s happening just a beat after it happens, and he breaks the kiss, pulling away as if he can’t help himself—eyes unabashedly roaming over your body. You slip the straps down your arms and toss the bra aside. For a moment, it seems as though you’ve rendered him speechless.

Then: “Wow,” he says softly.

You grin, propping yourself up with both hands and arching your back, taunting him a little. “That’s all you have to say?”

He chokes on air, lifts his hands to his hot, flushed cheeks. “You’re gonna kill me,” he mutters.

His worshipful attention emboldens you. “Your turn,” you tell him, sliding your fingers up and under his t-shirt again. He lifts his arms—obediently, as if in a trance—and you pull the shirt over his head. It gets caught for a moment on his glasses and he absently tosses them aside.

“Careful—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says gruffly.

The shirt is off—at last—and you explore his torso with eager fingers. His skin is warm and malleable under your touch; you can feel where there were once defined abs, trademark of years of rigorous training. Now, there’s a layer of softer flesh over those muscles, evidence of his more recent lifestyle.

He winces a little as your fingers graze his belly.

“Not much to look at,” he mutters. “Especially compared to you.”

You shake your head vehemently, tracing the contours of his chest with your hands. “You are so beautiful,” you tell him in a reverent voice. And he is—the muscles in his arms ripple delightfully under his skin as he adjusts his position, sits cross-legged in front of you. His body is perfect, you think—firm and yet soft, sculpted and yet supple.

He looks sideways and down, made embarrassed by your scrutiny. You run your fingertips over a long scar you’ve never seen before, cutting diagonally across his chest and onto his shoulder.

“What do you want now?” you ask him, leaning forward to brush his neck with your lips. He’s breathing heavily and he’s got that look on his face again—like he’s just barely keeping it together.

“I want…you,” he murmurs, his eyes fluttering shut, and you’re not sure if there’s more to the sentence than that—but you can’t stand it anymore, so you climb into his lap, wrapping both legs around his waist. “Oh my god,” he hisses as you adjust in his lap; you press your lips to his neck again and graze the gentle skin with your teeth. His hips shudder underneath you and the friction makes your head swim.

“C-can I…” he whispers throatily, “do that too?”

You giggle, because even with you half-naked and straddling him he’s still got that adorable naïveté and you just want to smother him with affection.

“Do what?” you murmur in his ear, and then you catch his earlobe between your teeth. He groans, low and longing.

“I-I want—” he begins, but then you grind your hips against him and his words crumble into another desperate moan. He grips your hips with both hands, tries again. “I want to…leave evidence,” he rasps, and he’s holding you so tight you’re sure there will be fingerprints on your hips and thighs in the morning. Good, whispers the gremlin. “I want to leave evidence on you that I existed,” he says.

Your breath hitches and you don’t miss the unspoken “in case I disappear tomorrow” and you lean back in his lap, baring your throat for him.

“Do it,” you say.

He kisses your lips and then, so slowly, flutters kisses across your cheek, your jaw. He parts his lips and you can feel his teeth on your skin.

“Tell me how,” he whispers.

“Lower,” you say, and you feel his lips drift down your neck. “Open,” you tell him, and his lips part. You stay very still, legs wrapped tight around his waist. “Suck,” you say, and he does, tugging your skin into his mouth. You feel the sharp pressure on your skin and you feel a swooping in your stomach, a neediness at your core. “One…” you count, and he sucks harder, his teeth against your flushed skin. “Two…three. Now.” He pulls back, panting a little, surveying his work with curious eyes.

“It’s red,” he says.

“Good,” you tell him. “Again.”

Without hesitation, he brings his mouth to your neck again, following the muscle that wraps around the front of your throat. He takes your skin between his teeth with more confidence this time and sparks fly behind your closed eyelids.

He meticulously progresses down one side of your neck and up the other, leaving a trail of tender, bruised skin in his wake. It doesn’t hurt much, but the gentle pain is enough to stir up something strong and mysterious inside of you. The gremlin in your mind swims in a sea of pleasure.

Saeyoung bites you just under your left ear and you can’t keep still anymore, your hips rocking against his, seeking new sensations.

“Saeyoung,” you hiss, and he licks your neck—you know he can feel the way your nails scrabble at his back—your longing has made him bolder. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Am I?” He nibbles your jaw and grins against your skin as you moan. “Should I drive you crazier?”

You are going to lose it, you think. You are going to topple off the cliff of sensations that are barraging your mind and you are going to fall apart entirely.

"You don’t wanna see what will happen if you do,” you mutter.

“I do, though,” he teases, and then he bites your earlobe—hard—and for a moment you can’t see straight.

You asked for it, you think, and then—before he can react—you slither out of his grip and dart off the bed. Too late, he reaches for you, but you’ve already found your footing, sliding easily to your knees. You grip his waist with both hands and pull him toward you and he follows, automatically, unthinking. It’s only then that he looks down and sees the position you’re in.

His eyes widen and his face flushes a shade darker than his hair. “You’re…that’s…uhhhh,” he manages. You loop two fingers through the waistband of his jeans and tug him closer to the edge of the bed and he goes with you, letting his legs dangle off the side. He opens his mouth as if to say something else. Swallows. Closes it again.

You run one hand over and around his thigh and then, achingly slow, over the obvious bulge in his pants. He makes a sound somewhere between a groan and a squeak.

“Will you let me do this?” you ask, fingers drifting up to the button of his jeans. He tries to speak but fails again. Instead, he nods frantically, and you undo the button, pull down the zipper. His erection springs free, now constrained only by the more forgiving fabric of his boxers. “Help me with these, babe,” you say, tugging at his pants, and he complies eagerly, pulling his jeans off his hips with shaky hands. You guide them down his legs and then you palm him again, through his underwear, thrilled by the way his cock jumps in anticipation at your touch.

“I wanna taste you,” you whisper, and he mutters a string of incoherent syllables, his hips shaking uncontrollably under your ministrations. You slip his boxers up and over his erection, down his thighs, and bend slowly forward, exhaling onto him. His cock jumps again as if seeking out your lips of its own accord. So you bend over further, bring your lips to his tip, dart out your tongue and lick all the way around.

He groans low in his throat and then his hands are tangled in your hair and he’s pulling your head back.

“No?” you ask, and he whimpers as if stopping you is taking all his strength.

“I…want you to, god I want you to…b-but…” His voice sounds weak and his eyes are shut, his head still tilted back. “If you do that, I won’t…uhhhhh, I won’t be able to…l-last. Very long. At all.” He finally opens his eyes and gazes down at you with such neediness it makes you tremble.

“You don’t have to, baby,” you purr, and he shuts his eyes again with a moan. “Trust me, you’ll…come back around, if that’s what you want.”

He mumbles something and your lips quirk upward as you feel him gathering your hair behind your neck with his hands.

“Then…please,” he hisses, and the gremlin jumps for joy. You round your lips, carefully taking his tip between them; you wrap one hand around his base and slowly, slowly pull him into your mouth.

He utters a totally indistinguishable string of sounds and you suction your lips around him and arch your back, taking him deeper and then slipping away, licking all the way up his length. You grip his base with your other hand and slide your lips over him, in and out, mouth and hand working in tandem. He meant it when he said he wouldn’t last long, you think—his hips have started to shake in a telltale way and so, back arching, you suction your lips around him tighter, rocking forward on your knees. You cup his balls with one hand and breathe in, pulling him further into your mouth—and he comes, hard and fast, wiggling beneath you as he relinquishes control. You open your throat, swallowing everything.

He gasps for air and, gradually, the erratic movements of his hips slow. You pull away from him then, licking the last of the saltiness from his tip, and he lets out a low, hollow moan.

The heat between your legs is almost unbearable now—there was something about making him dissolve in pleasure that completely overwhelmed you and now you feel dizzy.

You pull yourself back onto the bed, crawling to his side and stroking his cheek. His eyes flutter open and he looks ravished, you think, his gaze totally unfocused and his hair beautifully disheveled.

“I…that…” he pants. You kiss his collarbone. “Th-that was…”

“Better than when you do it yourself, huh?” You giggle against his skin and internally beg your gremlin for patience, trying to ignore the steadily growing need at your core.

“I…literally cannot put into words how much better,” he says. “You…”

“Give great head? Are impossibly sexy and cool? Deserve a blessing from God Seven?” You can’t help but scoot closer as you tease him, grinding your hips—still in your pants, dammit—against his side.

“God Seven isn’t worthy,” he says. His eyes rove over your body, and—yes—land on your still-clothed lower half. “God Seven has found a new purpose in life.”

“And that is?” you purr. You shamelessly rub your hips against his side again. You keep your voice level; internally, you’re at the eye of a storm.

He props himself up on his elbows. Maybe he can tell that now you’re the one who’s falling apart; maybe he’s just finally starting to relax (he certainly should feel relaxed, after that, you think)—but you sense that he’s taking control.

“Well.” His tone is commanding, almost intellectual. “The first step is to get you out of these pants.”

“Yes!” you cry, and he chuckles as you enthusiastically undo the button, already pulling them down your thighs. “Finally!”

He waits for you, sprawled sideways across the bed, looking for all the world as if he does this everyday. You wriggle out of your pants and throw yourself onto your back beside him.

There’s a hungry look on his face as he leans forward and runs one large, calloused hand up your thigh, parting your legs. Desperate for him, you lean back into the mattress, breath already coming hard and fast. “You’re so wet…” he says in awe as he reaches your panties and hesitates, his hand tantalizingly close.

“Of course I am,” you tell him. “It’s because I need you to touch me, Saeyoung.”

His eyes go wide.

“Teach me,” he whispers.

You rip your underwear off with one hand and he helps you, pulling it down your legs and over your feet with gentle hands. You catch his hand in your own and guide him up, between your thighs—separating out his long, flexible fingers, bringing the pad of his index finger to your swollen, needy clit.

“Like this,” you murmur, and you flick your own finger over yourself, hot and trembling, unable to repress a moan at finally getting some satisfaction. He watches you with thoughtful eyes and you can practically see the gears turning in that genius brain of his as he memorizes your movements.

Then he copies you, moving his finger softly against your clit—and it’s different when he does it, of course, his fingers nimbler, his skin rougher. He mimics your motions with absolute precision and you let your hand fall away, the mixture of pleasure and desperation and relief threatening to drown you.

He takes note of every response from you: the way you moan as he moves faster, the way your thighs clench around his hand as he experimentally makes a little circle with his fingertip.

“You are…amazing,” he says, and he’s gazing down at you in wonder, and—oh, he’s got a new toy to play with, you think groggily, your head swimming—he’s found another thing he can manipulate with his fingers, and that’s his speciality.

“Thank god for computers,” you gasp, not even sure what you’re saying, the room swimming around you as you forget to breathe.

“Thank god for…computers?” he asks, eyebrows knitted in confusion—but even as he speaks, his movements don’t slow, his finger flitting against you with the same precision and gentleness you’ve seen him apply to his keyboards, or the little cat robot.

You somehow manage to laugh through the blinding heat behind your eyes. “Because…” you gasp. “B-because you’re good at…computers…so you know how to…”

At that moment, he curls a finger inside of you, his eyes growing huge as he realizes he has another weapon at his disposal. You lose track of your words entirely, taken by surprise, stammering out his name as his index fingers continues its endless stimulation of your clit and his middle finger slides deeper inside you.

Your toes curl. He bends over you and his teeth graze your neck where it’s already tender from his earlier attentions and the heat is blinding, blinding you, and you swear your body actually levitates, the cold, scratchy mattress disappearing entirely as the pleasure swells within you. You come violently, shaking, anchored to reality only by his fingers at your core.

You hear yourself gasping his name as if from outside yourself, and he rides it out with you, pushing you deeper and farther into the bright, hot recesses of your mind.

And slowly, the feeling fades: the mattress is firm and steady beneath you and you grasp clumsily for him, stilling his fingers with your own.

“Fuck,” you say, trying to catch your breath. “Fuck, Saeyoung.”

You try to focus on his face. He’s hovering over you and he looks adoring and thrilled and—proud.

“Am I amazing at that, or what?!” he sings, and you burst out laughing.

“You’re a genius, babe,” you tell him. You still feel a little woozy.

“I know I’m a genius,” he crows. “But who knew I was a sex genius?” He’s all energy now, bouncing on his heels, rocking the bed a little. You push yourself into a sitting position, giggling.

“God Seven, God Seven!” he’s chanting—so you do the only reasonable thing and tackle him, knocking him flat on his back, snaking your arms around his neck.

“There’s still something I wanna try with you, genius God Seven,” you purr into his ear, and his demeanor shifts almost immediately, a little shiver running through his body.

“Yeah?” he murmurs—and all his bravado is gone, and he gazes at you hungrily. You maneuver yourself so your hips are hovering just over his, and you can feel that he’s hardening again, his tip grazing your belly.

“Choi Saeyoung, for the love of god, please fuck me,” you say. He exhales sharply, grasping at your sides with both hands. “I’ve only been imagining it since the day I met you.”

“You have?” His voice is low and throaty and you grind your hips against him, pinning his cock between you. He’s totally hard now, and shivering, that dizzy look returning to his face—like he doesn’t quite know where is or how he got here.

“You have no idea,” he mutters. “But…hang on…I have—” He pushes you gently off him reluctantly, and you sit back on the bed.

He has…?

It dawns on you, and you watch in wonder as he slides from the bed, practically runs to his bag which he’s left beside the desk. You’re a little ashamed to admit that you hadn’t even thought of it.

He rummages around in the bag and you watch—he has, you think, an excellent butt. Triumphantly, he pulls a little roll of condoms from his bag; you smirk.

“Why do you have those?” you ask, trying to keep the laugher from your voice.

“Don’t…read anything into it, alright?” His face is flushed again as he returns to you, crawls back onto the bed. “I just…you know, need to be prepared. For things. As an…agent.”

“As an agent?” You lean back against the wall, legs long in front of you. You can see little finger-shaped marks already forming on your thighs and the sight alone makes your head spin.

“Yeah, it’s…y’know…safety?” he mumbles, coming to sit beside you. He rips off one of the little packets, tosses the rest aside. His face is still flushed and the dim light from the lamp casts shadows over his prominent collar bones and you just want to bite them.

“Saeyoung, how long have you had the condoms?” you ask.

“Not…long."

“So not like, years, right? Cause they expire, you know.”

He growls playfully and nips at your shoulder; you squeal. “Not years, silly. Like…days.”

Ah-ha. You’re a little relieved to know you’re not the only one who’s been obsessing over getting him naked for the last few days.

“So,” you say, voice low.

“So,” he says.

You turn and kiss the base of his neck and he hisses in pleasure. You trail kisses down his chest, over his belly, his hip. Up the length of his cock, holding it gently with one hand.

“G-go easy on me,” he groans, and you laugh. You reach for the packet and he hands it to you; you tear it open and ease the sticky plastic over his tip. You roll the condom onto him slowly, caressing him with both hands, bending to pepper little kisses around his base.

“Ready, baby?” you whisper, looking up at him. He meets your eyes with his own, dark and dizzy and dazed.

“I-I just wanna…” he mumbles. “Just wanna remind you that I have no idea what I’m doing…so…”

You put both hands on his chest and straddle him.

“What happened to God Seven, sex genius?”

“He’s…still here, but I…ahh.” He moans as you position yourself over him, using a hand to guide him toward you entrance.

“I love you,” you tell him. And before he can answer, you slide onto him, slowly, gasping at the relief of finally feeling him inside you.

His hips stutter frantically against yours and you still him with a hand on his chest. His eyes are shut and his jaw is fixed, like he’s fighting desperately for control.

You wait for him to take a breath—and when he does, slowly, shakily, you start to move. You lift your hips and he moves with you, lower them and he follows you. You feel a sharp clenching inside you, a delightful explosion of sensations, as you fall into a rhythm together.

You moan and he reaches for you, grasping at your sides, your arms. He’s growing more confident now, rocking into you, and you clench around him, pulling him deeper.

His eyes fly open and you see something snap in him—do it, you think—and he does, using both hands to flip you onto your back, pinning you beneath him. His eyes scorch you as he slips back inside you, thrusting into you a little harder; you meet him halfway, lifting your hips, deepening the angle. He’s panting and you can tell he’s still trying to hold himself back and you want to tell him to let go, it’s okay, but there’s fog swimming in your brain and then a huge wave of feelings crashes over you, breaking around you before you know what’s happening. You come quickly and unexpectedly this time, rays of pleasure piercing your body as you lose control of the rhythm and fall to pieces beneath him.

And through the daze of pleasure you see his face shift as he gives in, lets go, thrusts into you faster and harder and with unbidden need—and so you throw your legs up around his waist and pull him into you. His eyes widen and then he comes, too, chasing you, rocking into you frantically, breathing hard through parted lips.

You come down together, trembling and panting, his beautiful faces inches from yours—and then he kisses you hard. You clench around him again and he whimpers.

“You just did that…on purpose,” he gasps.

“I did.”

He laughs a brand new laugh and this one, you think, is your favorite. He slides out of you and sits back, pulling off the condom with a hiss as his fingers brush the sensitive flesh.

“I don’t wanna be dramatic,” he says as he catches his breath. “But I think I just died and then was born again. So.” He giggles and you collapse against him, pressing a hot cheek to his chest. He wraps his arms around you.

“Do you think,” you murmur, “other agents have also done it in this bed?”

He squeezes you tight, still laughing. “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”

“How could you not?”

He hums thoughtfully, combing his fingers through your knotted hair. “I kind of doubt it,” he says. “Secret agents have way less sex than people think we do.”

“You don’t,” you say.

“One time,” he mutters, nuzzling his face into your hair. “I’ve now had sex one time.”

You twist to look up at him: there are curls falling messily over his forehead and his face is flushed and pink and so kissable. You crane your neck and kiss the underside of his jaw.

“I have this strong feeling that you’re gonna end up having a lot more sex,” you tell him. “Probably kind of soon.”

He cackles and dips his head and covers your face with kisses; you squeal as he flips you over onto your stomach, tossing your hair to the side and nibbling the back of your neck.

“…didn’t leave…enough evidence?” you pant, giggling, squirming.

“Oh, I’m not worried about that anymore,” he says, pinning you beneath him and licking the back of your ear.

“You’re not?”

“Nope!” he sings. “I am one hundred percent confident that I won’t be going anywhere any time soon.” His energy shifts as he kisses across your shoulder, down your back. His fingers drift to your sides, caressing you slowly, making you tremble. “I am never,” he whispers into your skin, “going anywhere without you.”

“Promise?” you pant, squirming as his kisses drift lower, lower.

“I promise,” he whispers, his lips burning your lower back, “that I won’t ever leave your side.”

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

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kermits-room · 5 years ago

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kermits-room · 5 years ago

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Can you describe Hawk’s personality in canon?

- MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS INCOMING -

Oh my?

Buckle up. I got way too into this. The way a complete nerd can talk about her most favourite character in all of fiction.

I will start off by saying that Hawks doesn’t really have a 100% clear personality. Because there is obviously a lot of mysteries surrounding his character. What we can do is speculate, but in the end, there always seems to be this question of “Okay, but what if he does this instead?”. So, for all we know, Hori can pull of a major plot twist and turn everything on its head at any given time. So, please consider this is largely speculation based on writing that is purposefully portraying the character as a mystery.

We know how Hawks acts in public, we know how he acts around the villains, how he acts around the other pro heroes, and finally, how he acts around the Hero Public Safety Commission. To me, his personality is like layers. You get to know one, then you peel off that layer and get to the next one. And you do this again, and again, until you see his true personality. Or do you? What if Hawks no longer knows who he is because of all the roles he’s had to play all his life?Sigh…you poor soul. All you did was ask me a simple question and here I am going full on Ultimate Analyst here. I’m so sorry omg-

| What is Hawks’ (true) personality?

A/N: This turned into a meta, I think it definitely did. But since it’s my first time I’ve been so into analysing a character, I would love some feedback. I tend to get wordy and English is not my first language so I really hope this won’t be too difficult to follow. I’ve always wanted to write meta but I always considered myself not smart enough for this. I’m too tired to read through this again I spent 5 hours on it so please be nice tome if there some inconsistencies ;_; Oh, well. Here goes nothing-

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Layer one: The Hero Next Door

So let’s take a look at the first layer I mentioned. How he acts around the public.

We see that he is actually a very respected hero in his hometown, people are casual and friendly with him despite clearly being excited to see him there. Some are even going so far as to gently warn him that if he keeps being so blunt, he may make enemies.

It almost feels like he is not just their hero, but also their friend. I doubt he’d turn down a request for help from anyone as long as he’s available. We know that his interactions in the chapter continue with him being considerate of the elderly by helping a granny carry her bag, saving a dog, and even letting children pet his wings.

Conclusion

So to sum up, around the public he is, in my opinion, calm, casual, friendly, reliable, and falsely open. People feel at ease when he is around, they trust him, because they know him well.

In a perfect world, this is probably what can be considered his truest personality. Because it’s his hometown. He grew up here. He was shaped to be who he is here. Except…he obviously wasn’t taken in by the Commission to be the public’s friend. He is good with people because he was taught how to be good with people. So this personality, however honest and trustworthy it may seem to the local residents, isn’t real. This is just one of the masks he puts on to suit the occasion.

Layer 2: The asshole who looks down on those ranked below him

There are some obvious differences in the way he acts around the other pro heroes.

Meet his asshole personality. He always says what’s on his mind, isn’t afraid to call anyone out, and he is cocky and flamboyant when doing it, perhaps even striving to make a show out of it. I think this personality is just a one step closer to what he perhaps is really like.

But that step is either really big and there are only some slight changes. Or it’s actually a miniscule step. We can’t know for sure.

What we do know is that he does want to make people more aware of society’s current situation. He is involved in many behind the scenes cases, so his knowledge is one level above everyone else, seeing as the Commission assigns him tasks that not even the current number one hero Endeavor knows about. And I am willing to bet that this has been going on even while All Might was still the Symbol of Peace. Basically, there are things that only Hawks knows about. Things that he isn’t allowed to disclose.

In a way, this cocky persona really helps him out in many aspects.

1) He can make people more aware of the graveness of the situation without causing a panic, since he’s going to sneak a joke or two and pin the spotlight on somebody else to carry on like he did with Endeavor.

2) We know hero society’s shortcomings. It has been stated multiple times that those with flashy quirks and confident personalities will be able to make it in the hero business much easier than those who aren’t exactly that. In a way, this is how Hawks copes with having to always watch his back for the competition.

3) For you, this personality is an excellent mix of being both confident but not overconfident, and remaining self aware, ALL THE WHILE displaying it so flamboyantly for the public and the other pro heroes that it actually makes you come out as the opposite - overconfident and maybe even naïve. As a result, people will listen and consider what you say and decide how they’re going to act for themselves. But then they will see you as someone who maybe does not have a clear idea of how things work, since Hawks is putting himself at risk by being so honest. People think “wow that is true”, but they also think “he’s got some balls to say that and I think he will only end up making enemies as a result”

Conclusion

This particular item in Hawks’ shelf of masks is his go-to tool for confronting different situations in his daily work. In a way, he can still be helpful to people and warn them, without really exposing how smart he actually is. Thanks to this act he puts up, people will consider him obnoxious, easy-going, a know-it-all, but very rarely someone who sees and knows more than he lets on. In a way, this is the perfect cover up. People will maybe want to go after him, give him a piece of their mind, but the things is they are already underestimating him. So while Hawks does put himself at risk by acting like this, I don’t think we should worry about another hero confronting him or trying to “snag the number 2 position”.

However, this front is not going to work against the villains. So he has to think of something new. Fast. And the reason he was chosen for this mission is exactly that. Thanks to his quick thinking he will be able to create yet another layer to his true personality, and use that layer to try, key word, try to trick the villains into trusting him.

Layer 3: The Hunted Bird of Prey

The roles are reversed. Hawks is no longer at the top, observing everyone else from a great distance. Instead, he is at the very bottom, with his every move being watched, and where one mistake means doom for all of Japan. No pressure.

His “villain” persona is actually the Hawks personality that goes up against life threatening situations and needs to find a way out in any situation. This version of Hawks is the most dangerous one, and he honestly needs it. He is more aware, all his senses are sharpened, he is more careful tactical and cautious. But perhaps he also displays a little fragment of what he is really like:

This is one of the two times we’ve ever seen him crack. The second being in chapter 240 when we see him sweating once he realises how powerful Shigaraki has become.

Deep down, beneath all those layers hides a very emotional person, I am willing to think. The rare times he does lose some of his composure, it’s intense. As someone who holds back his real emotions all the time for the sake of his job, it’s only natural all this would pent up and end getting released at some point. Or, to put it simply, Hawks will snap. And it will be a very big moment for sure.

I am willing to believe behind closed doors, once he’s fully alone with no one watching over him, it’s when he is the most emotional. It’s the ideal moment to let it all out. Too bad he can’t really do that anymore, since the villains have put listening devices on him. So, now he is completely trapped.

Another aspect of the concept behind Hawks’ villain act is that he demonstrates his negotiation and spying skills at their full potential. Here, he is ready to sacrifice himself, sacrifice someone else, and overall fully embrace his grey morality for the sake of the greater good. That is another thing we do know about him. In the end, he always looks at the bigger picture and I definitely think he is the type to think of others before himself. He’s been like that since he was a kid, after all.

He demonstrates some qualities typical of a puppet master. And I think that’s a very beautiful storytelling direction Hori has going on. A puppet like Hawks is actually also the one who is orchestrating everything. As much as I hate to admit it, in the end, the current events are happening because of Hawks. He put the puzzle pieces together, and it’s now complete. War is upon us and its instigator is none other than him. Even if he wasn’t the cause, he was the trigger.

Conclusion

So, to recapitulate thus far: What I consider to be truest qualities of Hawks’ personality are emotional, selfless, reliable but also someone who is manipulative, a liar, maybe a little bit paranoid and someone with trust issues. He always tries to solve everything on his own. We see that directly stated in the chapter where Tokoyami’s internship under Hawks is explained: “For better or worse, this man solves everything by himself.

Consequently, now the question is: Will Hawks be able to solve all this on his own just like he always has?

The answer is obviously no. However amazing Hawks is, he doesn’t stand a chance against the High Ends, or Gigantomachia, Re-Destro or Shigaraki. And the task he has been given is just impossible. There is no way he won’t get out of all this unscathed. However, I actually don’t believe he is going to die like everyone seems to, if anyone is interested on my reasonings for that, you can always hit me up! But now back to the topic at hand: Where does that leave him?

Layer 4: The pawn

Hawks has a lifelong debt to the Hero Public Safety Commission, the government officials who took him in as a child and provide for his family. This is a bit out of topic but I do believe the Takami thief theory but I also believe that his mother is somewhere far away where he can’t see her too often but she is being taken care of. Learning more about his family is definitely something we need, imho.

Anyway. With these people he is like a loyal obedient police dog. They tell him to do something, he does it. Simple as that. He has shown disapproval and dissatisfaction with the way they do things but 1) he can’t say no because they literally own him and 2) he still wants to do what is best for everyone else.

However, something interesting to note here is that he still tires to do things behind their back. As someone pointed out once, why would Hawks eavesdrop on the Commission’s conversations in secret? Well, I did say Hawks knew more than the other heroes but I never said he knew everything. I just know there are things that are still hidden from him. From here on out, we got another secret real trait of his: He needs and wants to have as much information as possible…for an unknown reason.

Therefore, I can say that Hawks is also analytical, secretive, yet wanting to know everything himself. Although, we do not have a reason for that particular habit of his. And we can’t know what it is at the moment, we can only speculate. It could be his paranoia, it could be him wanting to be even better at his job, it can be because he is a triple agent… (I personally don’t believe the triple agent speculation but it is a very interesting concept) We just don’t know.

Conclusion:

Besides all these layers of personality we looked at, I will once again compile the traits of his character that I do think are some parts of who he really is:

Organised, reliable, friendly but sometimes blunt, a liar and manipulator (He doesn’t like it he just has to do it and I think it can also be seen as a subconscious mechanism for self-defence.), paranoid, trustworthy but with trust issues, cautious, methodical, but also emotional, yet analytical and someone who always feels the need to gather information, and of course morally ambiguous and a person who simply…doesn’t know themselves as well as they think they do, also someone who puts others before himself and someone who prefers to plan than to act spontaneously. (He can do spontaneous but this is something that can bring out the more emotional side of him.

So who is Hawks really?

A tragic character. He is filled to the brim with those tropes. Someone who will be the indirect cause for so much suffering and will blame themselves for it. He is controlled by the hero side, controlled by the villain side with no hint of freedom whatsoever.

In my opinion, the direction his character will take will be decided by the question: Once he confronts the immense guilt of having to ignore victims, do questionable things, lie and manipulate, orchestrate an all-out war rather than preventing it…will he snap? Will he give up and refuse to forgive himself and then meet a tragic end? Will he just run away from everything and meet a tragic end? Or maybe he’ll run away and we’ll never see him again? Will he sacrifice himself for someone or will someone sacrifice themselves for him to prove he is NOT all alone after all? Will he turn out a triple agent? Or will he find a way to move forward despite the immense burden he is carrying?

I am looking forward to seeing which one of these it is.

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kermits-room · 5 years ago

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Helios: A Pregnancy Headcanon (Yes, you read that right)

Hello, dear readers, and welcome to the brainchild of @thatfanfictionchick, @hisbeautifulnightmare17, and yours truly. I’m kind of addicted to writing pregnancy headcanons, and when I was asked to write this one, you bet your ass I jumped right on that crazy train. I’m also tagging @op-peccatori, @paopufruittt, @pickle-scribbles, @kim-stxtches, @multifandomnerd101, and @galaxystarrr as they typically lust over Helios right along with me.

Fuuuuuuck.

It worked.

It fucking worked.

You were still sitting on the toilet, pants down around your ankles, knees bouncing, having literally just peed on the stick. No, seriously. Like, thirty seconds before. There was no doubt about this one.

That little blue line in the test window was first, then—

Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my gooooooooddddddd

The other window blazed like a neon sign with that maddening little plus sign.

Pregnant.

Willow was the first to find out, only because you forgot to lock the door of the employee restroom and she came barging in. You both screamed as you curled into yourself. You dropped the test…it skidded across the floor and landed at her feet.

“Oh my god…” Her eyes widened as she kicked it back toward you, like it was some sort of insect or dead mouse.

“I KNOW!”

“Is it...his?” She gave you the eye.

“Willow! I’m not sleeping with anyone else! Of course it’s his.” What was she thinking? (It wasn’t like you had four other guys drooling on you at any given time)

“You gonna tell him?”

“Yeah…yeah.” You nodded. “Can you finish up my notes on the last take? I gotta go. Like, now.”

It took you three tries to get him to pick up when you called. You would have texted, but this was definitely not a text and go situation.

“What?” he answered. So Helios. Impatient and gruff.

“Can you meet me at the hotpot place by my apartment? I need to talk to you.”

He huffed. “Can’t you just tell me now? I’m kinda busy.”

“No, we need to sit down. Please, Ki- Helios. It won’t take long.” Or so you hoped.

“Whatever. I’ll be there in five. Hurry up. I won’t wait.”

Of course, he was there before you. You slid into the bench across from him, meeting his intense, icy stare.

“Well? What’s got you so impatient to see me? Wanna try again?” His smirk was cocky, sexy.

“About that…uhhh…” You gulped. “Not necessary.” You chewed on your bottom lip, waiting for his reaction.

A nod. He looked at you, eyes widening ever so slightly, then looked away quickly. Was he blushing?

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“You gonna keep it?”

You scoffed. Incredible. “Yes, I’m keeping it.”

He slid out of his seat and stood up. “Alright. Cool. See ya ‘round.”

Your mouth fell open as he sauntered away. As he reached the door, he turned, winked, and said, “You’re welcome.”

He did call you. That night, actually. It was another week before you heard from him after that, but eventually, the calls came more frequently. He even walked with you on your way home from work sometimes, waiting just outside the door, leaning casually against one of the tall, stone pillars, looking bored.

Your belly grew, and so did his concern for you. It was endearing to see him grow soft in your presence. To watch his steely resolve mold into something akin to...love.

He said it the second night he stayed in your bed, somewhere around your sixth month, lying close to you in the moonlight that streamed in from the balcony window. His hand was draped over your swollen abdomen, the warmth in his touch apparently enough to excite the life that grew inside you. He gasped, then pressed his hand in a little harder. “Amazing..” he murmured against your neck.

“Yeah. We made that,” you said, tears springing to your eyes at how absolutely tender he was being. He pulled you toward him then, cupping your face in his rough, calloused hands. “I love you.”

Of course, you returned the sentiment, but you swear you heard Kiro say it, not Helios. When was he going to drop the act and just admit it….

You went into labor fast. And hard. Your water broke as you were getting out of bed one morning, prompting a loud, “What the hell!?” from your boyfriend (it still felt weird to call him that). Yes, he had softened in some ways. But he was still brusque as ever, especially when he was tired.

Though he grumbled all the way to the hospital, he was careful not to take any corners too sharply, but he certainly wasn’t following any speed limits. You were too busy with being doubled over with contractions to see the crease in his brow, the worry that painted a scowl on his lips, the blush that crept onto his cheeks and the shell of his ears. He was scared. All the dangerous missions, the blood, the gore, the horrible things he had endured during his time in Black Swan….none of it had prepared him for this.

The doctor was alarmed to find you nearly fully dilated once you were secured into a bed at the hospital, and explained, much to your dismay, that there was no time for any pain meds. The baby was coming now, and they needed you to start pushing right away.

Helios didn’t know what to do, so he straddled a chair backward next to your bedside and folded his arms across the back, watching you. He was dumbstruck. Speechless. Amazed at your strength as you worked to give birth to the life that had grown inside you for so many months.

You were silent and determined in your endeavor, your pain so great that your mind took you to another plane of existence where you were unable to do anything but breathe and push. The nurses even commented afterward that you were the quietest natural labor they’d even seen.

And when the moment came that the doctor laid your beautiful baby girl on your chest, your body racked with sobs of relief, you saw it.

His eyes betrayed his stoic features, brimming with tears, his lips parted slightly, head cocked slightly to one side as he studied her. Studied you.

Your languid smile gave him peace. So blissed out on post-birth endorphins were you that you hadn’t noticed him stroking your forehead, pushing your sweaty hair away from your brow. When a nurse stepped in to take your daughter to the warming station for vitals, he leaned in close. “Fucking awesome,” he murmured against your lips, his mouth curving into a smile before he kissed you.

Moments later, he was holding his daughter in his arms, humming quietly to her as you dozed in the bed, completely spent.

“Don’t tell mommy,” he whispered to her, his voice rising a few notes to a familiar, sing-song tone. “I’ll write you all the songs you can stand…and then I’ll write you more.”

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kermits-room · 5 years ago

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Li Zeyan In Love - Character Study

I sat on this because I wanted to get more dates done but, after seeing people bring up this one poem that is the epitome of Li Zeyan in the aftermath of 34, I decided to finish this. This essay has been brought to you from my occasional bursts of frustration at Elex LOL.

First, I need to acknowledge that I’ll be pulling comments from others who have made their own amazing discussions about Li Zeyan’s charcter. PS. Thanks for inspiring me and giving me points to think about!

SPOILERS to Chapter 21. Plus CN card lines up to Chapter 34.

THE ENDLESS SEARCH

(Sorry, Luoluo, I still have no good essay thoughts on you yet.)

It’s amusing that if Bai Qi’s love is in the form of “all roads lead to you”. He can see where MC is standing and he is moving towards that point, struggling through all the obstacles in the way.

And Xu Mo’s love is in the form of the red string of fate. No matter how much they hurt each other, walk in opposite directions, or try to tangle it up, they are forever connected to each other.

Then Li Zeyan’s love is in the form of searching for a needle in the haystack. The needle being MC and the haystack being all possible worlds and universes in space-time.

Li Zeyan has tons of quotes about time, staying beside each other, and searching:

[Winter Infatuation SSR] “No matter the distance or time, nothing can prevent me from keeping you by my side.”

[Time’s End SSR] “I’ll find and bring back the past you.”

[Tour to Deep Space SSR] “No matter where you are, I will always find you.”

[CN Silent Twilight SSR] “You are the only predestined ending I believe in.” and “I will cross countless spaces of time to look for an ending which has you.”

[Main Story 18-16] “I will definitely find and bring back the past you.”

[Main Story 18-23] “Don’t make it hard for me to find you, understand?”

This is reflected so painfully in [Dim Light SR] where MC takes Li Zeyan to light lanterns and he writes a poem on it. Elex didn’t translate the poem and, at the time, I was somewhat lenient. But after seeing references made to it… ELEX, COME OVER HERE. I JUST WANNA TALK.

So, Li Zeyan wrote:

The last line about his wish having come true already is the same in both CN and ENG.

He wrote the last line of this poem by Xin Qiji, one of many great poets in Chinese history. Here I have provided Irving Y. Lo’s translation of the poem from “Sunflower Splendor: Three Thousand Years of Chinese Poetry”.

The Night of the Lantern Festival, to the Tune of ‘Green Jade Table’ - Xin Qiji [1140–1207]

One night’s wind made a thousand trees burst into flower, And breath down still more Showers of fallen stars. Splendid horses, carved carriages, fragrance filled the road. Music resounded from paired flutes, Light swirled on water-clock towers. All night long, the fabled fish-dragons danced. Gold-threaded jacket, moth- or willow-shaped hair ornaments Melted into the throng, giggling, a trail of scents. In the crowd I looked for her a thousand and one times, And all at once, as I turned my head, I was startled to find her Among the lanterns where the candles were growing dim.

The bold is Li Zeyan’s lines in Chinese.

Keep reading

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kermits-room · 5 years ago

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blooming devotion | MLQC Gavin

Fandom: Mr Love: Queen’s Choice

Pairing: Gavin/Reader

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 5k

Summary: He sees it as the ultimate expression of his love, pure and unselfish in nature. His thinks his life is a fitting price to pay, one he never intends for you to be aware of. But things don’t always (rarely) go according to plan, and you have a lot to say when you find out. The real question is–will you make it in time?

A/N: this was meant to be sad but I’m too soft. also need to fine-tune it because I wrote it in a bit of a rush so can I run back to Gavin smut lmao

Warnings/tags: (chronic) hanahaki disease, minor campus date spoilers, blood

Keep reading

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kermits-room · 5 years ago

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Victor: An Attractive Male Figure in Idealized Patriarchy

(Spoilers for chapter 18)

The relationship between Victor and MC reminds me of a relationship between a proud, majestic king and a daring peasant/minor nobility girl.

Victor is in a higher place than MC in all sorts of power structure. He is a male. He is older. He has more wisdom, more money. His job is more prestigious than hers. There is no caste system in 21st century, but his social class is way above her. He is a capitalist version of an emperor.

Victor is quite tolerant to MC being bold and gutsy towards him. He even seems to enjoy it. But I can’t help thinking that his attitude comes from the fact that MC’s harmless disobedience within a permitted limit doesn’t threaten his position of dominance. A kitten can hiss at her owner and use her small claws to throw light punches, but she is still a cute kitten.

He is lenient and lets MC have her way inside his fence. But he is in a position to “let” her have her privilege. (Let’s compare with Kiro, for example. Kiro doesn’t “let” MC do anything, because what she does with herself is not his to “let”.) In a relationship with Victor, MC’s autonomy is “bestowed” upon her by him, not something she inherently has.

Sure, he is teaching her to rise higher in her social position so that they can stand together on a (sort of) same level. He is readying her to become someone worthy to be his queen. Because even a king cannot marry someone who’s too low-birth. The hierarchy gap between the two has to be lessened for the marriage to take place. (This reminds me of the time when Victor demanded MC to make her company one of the best in the field in two years.) The relationship between ruling king and queen consort(king’s wife) is somewhat equal but not exactly equal. Her power is next in line to the king but she is one step below the king.

Victor gives MC lots of useful advice and his guidance enables her to rise higher in her career. Being subordinate to the most powerful guy in the world isn’t all that terrible if you can achieve the second most powerful position under his influence.

I am NOT saying that Victor is just giving MC a social ladder that she can climb on with relatively fewer efforts. He is a man who differentiates work and sentiment and he does not play favorites in the workplace. He teaches her how to handle herself in the business field but he doesn’t give her any special treatment. He helped her a lot, but only because he saw her potential and thought she was more than capable enough. MC gets as much credit to her accomplishments and we shouldn’t owe it all to Victor.

One of the things I hold in high regard about how Paper games wrote Victor is that despite being superior and dominating over MC, he gives her a lot of agency (let’s put aside whether her agency is “his” to give) when it comes to physical aspects of a relationship. (I expressed this point once in “Victor – Waiting for Her Consent post.”) They have a very slow burn romance. In Dazzling Date, he waited until MC initiated the kiss before going in fully. He also asked beforehand if she was sober, meaning that he wouldn’t take advantage of a drunk girl.

It’s amazing that someone who’s in such a powerful position over MC never forces himself on her, doesn’t get physically demanding or overbearing in any way. Especially when we can find real life cases of workplace harassment and molestation.

Victor is aware that he is in a place where he has more power over her, and that if she doesn’t want his physical advances or finds it uncomfortable, she is in a difficult position to refuse actively. He knows that he can misread her passive resistance as an acceptance, and the surest way to confirm her consent is waiting for her to initiate physical things first. And once she does, he will be given full reign to his desires.

I need someone older and wiser telling me what to do~

Patriarchy in real life is directly linked to the oppression of women, and we can’t truly say that Victor and MC are standing on a 100% equal level. (but have you ever seen a relationship where both parties are completely and perfectly equal?)

However, in fictions, mostly in the romance genre, this kind of patriarchy in a romantic relationship is romanticized and the positive sides are highlighted while the negative sides are diminished to a minimum. We do want a relationship where men and women are equal, but some are attracted to the stereotypical gender role where a woman can be dependent on a guy who’s stronger and superior than them.

In this fantasy patriarchy, the guy rarely gets too controlling or oppressive towards you. And sometimes when your hardship gets way too much it feels nice to lean on a guy who solves all the problems for you with his massive authority.

Considering his position in power, Victor allows quite a lot of leeway to MC and respects her most of the time. That alone is a beauty of fiction because in real life patriarchy mostly means that you are stuck with a guy who’s a patronizing, arrogant asshole and potentially you could be a victim to abuse and sexism.

One could argue that Papergame’s romanticization is not a true representation of realistic patriarchy and it leads people to turning a blind eye on the faults of the system but IMO how everything fell apart in Chapter 18 and onwards shows that Paper is not painting everything rose-colored.

Chapter 18 is a deconstruction of this ideal patriarchy romance and deconstruction of reason.

Conventional romance: Guy says to the girl “You did good for enduring hardships without me. Now that I’m here don’t you worry your silly little head and let me take care of everything for you.” The guy saves the world and heroine and there is no need for her to sacrifice her life. Que in sign “And they got married and lived happily ever after~”

MLQC subverted version: The high and almighty guy is unable to solve the situation. The heroine is powerless but takes the matters into her own hands and saves the world by fully utilizing the only weapon she has left: her life.

Chapter 18 is about Victor’s failure and MC’s triumph. Without any reason MC followed her gut feelings and relied on the remote chance that death is not the end for her, but another beginning and a breakthrough and in the future stories it turned out she was right.

The chapter is about breaking the norm that being smart and logical beats being impulsive and irrational. That sometimes, following the heart is the right answer than following the head. That reason and sense don’t always solve the problem.

This kind of romantic relationship between a powerful, authoritative male figure indulging his cheeky underling has been popular throughout history and one can’t deny the appeal of it. You get to feel a sense of empowering as the arrogant tyrant becomes soft via interacting with you. You get to express defiance by being sassy and challenging him. You get to enjoy being submissive to the dominant alpha male. In a way, letting the man take charge can give you a sense of stableness which is very alluring to some people.

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kermits-room · 5 years ago

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She’s Having My Baby! A Victor Headcanon

Author’s Notes: I think I have a problem and I can’t stop writing for this fandom. Someone send help.

Word Count: 1736

Tags/Warnings: Mostly fluff, talk of childbirth, some adult language, suggestive dialogue. No blatant smut, though.

Your pregnancy had not been a pleasant one. Morning sickness for the first three months, swollen ankles, extreme fatigue, and a voracious appetite made you almost unrecognizable, even to yourself.

You were extremely hormonal and ridiculously emotional over the smallest things…for instance, when the convenience store down the street stopped carrying your favorite sour candies, you cried for two days straight. Victor tracked down the supplier and had them delivered to your doorstep the following week, eliciting another barrage of tears. He cocked a brow at you, confused and bewildered, before softening his expression and folding you into his arms, letting you sob into his chest.

You went into labor a few hours after having some less-than-coordinated pregnancy sex that you practically had to beg for. “Please, Victor. I read that it can bring on contractions, and I’m already four days past the due date the doctor gave us.” He had been so careful with you lately, almost afraid to touch you. In all his dealings, professional and otherwise, he had encountered nothing so confounding as his pregnant wife.

The mood swings, the second trimester when you felt so alive and beautiful and awed at the life growing inside you and you couldn’t keep your greedy hands off of him and you had sex twice a day because you were so. damn. horny. All the time.

The strange food requests he accommodated in the kitchen at Souvenir or at 3 am in his bare feet and pajama pants as you swayed behind him, rubbing your baby belly and resting your head (im)patiently against his back

Oh, yeah. Labor. You were roused from sleep in the wee hours, your belly contracting uncomfortably. You waddled your way to the bathroom, hands pressed into the small of your back, and steadied yourself in front of the vanity mirror. You splashed cold water on your face and brushed your teeth, feeling another wave of constricting heaviness pass over you, knocking the wind from your lungs and buckling your knees.

Victor stirred, and when his outstretched arm found nothing but empty sheets beside him in your bed, he was at your side in an instant.

“I think it’s time.” It’s all you had to say to set him in motion. Before you knew it, you were being guided into the car, his hand at your elbow, supporting you through another contraction before you lowered yourself inside. He had taken the liberty of reclining the seat, and you sighed into the cool black leather upholstery, thankful for a moment of relief.

He probably broke the land speed record on the way to the hospital and ran every single red light, but you arrived safely somehow. Victor had called to alert the medical staff to your impending arrival, and a nurse with a wheelchair waited for you at the entrance, quickly ushering you and the father-to-be into the maternity ward.

Your contractions came at 3 minute intervals without fail, beginning in your back and wrapping your entire torso in a vise grip for a full sixty seconds, squeezing every drop of air from your lungs. Though your initial birth plan was to give it a go unmedicated, a few rounds of nearly unbearable contractions had you begging for pain relief.

Victor nearly fainted at the sight of the needle in your spine and sunk into a chair near the window of your room, taking slow, steadying breaths as the anesthesiologist worked to provide you with sweet, sweet relief via the epidural.

You were able to relax then, and you reached for him, hand outstretched to beckon him closer to your bedside.

He obliged, leaning in to push sweat-damp hair away from your forehead and pressing his lips to your salty skin.

Victor was never a man of many words, only speaking out of necessity and often keeping his conversations short, to the point. But as he stood at your side for those next few hours, taken aback at the flurry of activity in the room around you, he found himself questioning everything and everyone that entered.

“What are all these monitors for?” “My wife is terrified of needles. Is this one absolutely necessary?” “Why is it so warm here?” “Just how many of you are there?” The nurses kindly answered all of his questions, casting silent, amused looks at one another, knowing full well that this first time father was more nervous than he cared to admit.

When the doctor announced that it was time to start pushing, Victor stood sentinel at your side, squeezing your hand so hard that you had to ask him to let up a little, lest he break your fingers. “What? Oh, sorry,” he muttered in his deep baritone. He coached you through every contraction, counting to five in a slow unison with the nurse each time they instructed you to bear down, his breath at your ear, warm and comforting at first, then:

“Get away from me,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “You did this to me, you son of a bitch!” His close proximity suddenly had you positively seething, and you found yourself feeling every contraction again. A nurse explained that sometimes, an epidural can stop working when labor is in full swing, due to a mother’s position on the bed or a spinal abnormality. Whatever it was, you were now in full-blown, get-this-fucking-thing-out-of-me labor, and you wanted no part of the man who had put you in this predicament in the first place.

Brows raised in alarm, he takes two full steps back, mouth agape, his eyes shifting from your face to the miracle that was blooming between your gaping thighs.

He’d never seen you so determined, so primal in your role as a woman, and he was rendered speechless as the doctor continued to coach your pushing, reassuring you through your feral screams and moans.

You’ve been through a lot in your life, but this had to be the single most difficult thing you’d ever done. For a moment, you slump back onto the bed, sobbing uncontrollably, calling out your husband’s name.

Of course he closed the distance between you in an instant as you howl your apologies to him, blubbering through sopping wet tears, wiping your nose with the back of your hand.

“Idiot. What are you sorry for? You’re certainly doing a better job than I ever could.”

Another contraction smacked you in the face, and your entire upper body lifted from the bed as you bore down with encouragement from the doctor. “Good, Mrs. Li. You’re almost there. Two or three more pushes like that, and you’ll have a beautiful baby in your arms before you know it.”

The doctor was right. During the second push, you felt a sudden, terrifying, earth-shattering shift, and you knew even without seeing then that the baby’s head was out. Under the doctor’s gentle guidance, you bore down once more and welcomed the sensation of instant relief. You dropped your sweat-soaked head back onto the pillow as fresh tears streamed down your face.

“It’s a girl!” the doctor proclaimed as he lay her upon your bosom, the miracle of birth now visible to you firsthand.You immediately curled your arm around her perfect form, thumb brushing over her deliciously plump cheek. Her purplish skin still covered in patches of vernix and tinged with blood, she curled a tiny fist and furrows her brow as a nurse fit a thin cotton hat on her crown of jet black hair.

You gazed at her, then felt a squeeze on your shoulder, prompting you to look up to Victor. He smiled fondly at you, lifting a finger to brush a tear that gathered at the corner of his eye before bending to kiss his daughter, his daughter, on her plump little face, a rogue tear escaping and dropping silently onto her arm.

You’re hard pressed to remember ever seeing Victor Li this emotional, and it moves you.

This moment. Your husband. Your daughter. The quiet stillness of the room before the nurse kindly lifts her away from you to place her on the scale and gather vital signs. It’s a whole new kind of love that you feel swelling in your heart.

Of course, you loved Victor. But this new love you felt for this perfect, tiny human? The joy and pride of having two people you adored more than anything else in the world at your side? Something changed in you then, and you were never quite the same, though not in a negative sense. Not in the least. Your heart was full.

As one of the nurses worked to clean up your bed in the wake of your daughter’s birth, the other nurse returned with her, swaddled in pink and washed of the traces of her previous home. Victor stepped forward to accept her into his arms, carefully supporting her head and cradling her to his chest, his body unconsciously beginning to sway as he gazed lovingly into her swollen, red face. Her eyes blinked open as he hummed a quiet lullaby, a soft yet incredulous smile splayed across his handsome features.

You allowed him his moment, watching him tenderly, lovingly, as he spoke in low, soothing tones to his daughter. “Hello, beautiful. I’m your daddy. And this lady in the bed,” he cocked his head in your direction, giving you a subdued, playful glare, “is your mother, who wasn’t very nice to me earlier. What do you suppose we ought to do about that? Hmm?”

You scoffed at him, ready to retort, when you heard a sound that stopped you in mid-quip: your sweet baby’s voice, a quiet coo in response to her daddy’s quiet joke. Your eyes filled with tears that abundantly spilled over, and you reached to grasp at the belt loop of his pants, pulling him closer to you.

He crouched down beside you then, babe in arms, and kissed you full on your lips.

“Good work, Mrs. Li. Take the rest of the day off. I’ll bring you some pudding as a reward.”

You pushed a lock of hair away from his eye and smiled at him, the fatigue setting in as you felt your eyelids growing heavy.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He glanced from your daughter, to you, then back to her again, the awe and adoration in his eyes positively radiating.

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