bakerstreet | Asshole to the world, sweetheart to his girl.

Entry tags:

Asshole to the world, sweetheart to his girl.

wrapped around your finger
selectively sweet shipping meme

You might be the biggest curmudgeon in the known universe, just as prickly as a porcupine. Perhaps you're on the other end of the spectrum, cool like a cucumber and never letting anyone get to you. They're not worthy of your time. Still, despite what the case may be, you have one little weak spot. The person you love gets all the sweetness and kindness you have, which admittedly may not be too much, and in your rare moments together, many would be shocked at how you behave. In fact, your special person might not even know that you can be grumpy outside of your encounters!

Well, goes to show that everyone doen't know everything about you, do they?

This meme is pretty shamelessly for fluff, opening up, dokis, and also more dokis.
Respond with your character, preferences, what role you'd like to play if it matters, and any other info.
Then, respond to others.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( ~~#1 curmudgeon himself.~~ )

{I mean, yes/no, yes with these two *G*}

[Could be either role!]

[25+ please! Have one prickly god of mischief]

Edited 2020-01-11 02:19 (UTC)

[ooc: open to cross-canon/aus.]

[Politics, Hux has been finding, is a difficult business.

The recent surrenders of several mid-rim worlds, now devoid of Resistance outcroppings, have made his role an increasingly diplomatic one, facilitating the transition of planetary governments to First Order control through lengthy conferences and backroom deals. He's managed much of it through working around Ren, and, when he can't, through finding a place at his side, smoothing over his more unreasonable terms and honing the details of his rough-hewn plans. It's a different business than the type of strict, hierarchical command he's used to wielding, one where he has to make compromises and seek balances with competing demands, and certainly one that he can tell Ren doesn't feel much at home in either, despite his parentage.

The difficulty of it all isn't helped by having Rey seated at Ren's opposite shoulder, seeing the way Ren shifts to touch her or holds her gaze. He wonders sometimes at those long glances, thinks they must be communicating wordlessly in the Force, and feels a sharp pang of jealousy. He can't dwell on it, just as he can't look to Rey in anything more than impassivity, fearing what Ren might pick up from his mind. Fearing what he might do, if he knew.

He could resolve it, he thinks when he's alone--he has much of the support he wants, hushed pledges of loyalty from people that matter. But the timing isn't right, many of the talks still too precarious. He doesn't want to risk upsetting the gains the Order is soon to make.

So he endures, represses, holds his tongue and averts his eyes, even on days like today, when he arrives early to debrief Ren and finds Rey in his quarters with him. She's dressed when the door opens, but it's obvious what had been happening, and as he stands at rest, his features aloof and disapproving, he clenches his hands so tightly behind his back that he could scream.

He seeks her out that evening at her quarters for once, datapad in hand as a convenient excuse, as though merely passing on a message or hunting for Ren's whereabouts. When she opens the door, when he's sure Ren isn't camped out somewhere behind her, his expression melts to need and longing.]

Rey. [He gestures to the room behind her.] May I?

[where hux has been working hard at being the diplomat that ren isn't, rey's long and silent looks from the other side have been that calming influence that have staved off more than one or two temper tantrums. she is well aware that, of the two men in her life, hux is the one with the cooler and clearer head and, while kylo could bend people to his will, she has not (and will not) help him in that endeavor, regardless of what exercises he puts her through — mentally or physically.

the morning that hux finds here there in ren's quarters makes her feel dirty, but she doesn't break from the role she's chosen to play, the roles they've decided to endure. listening to his report with just enough indifference to still given an opinion and not let the guilt ring through the dyad, she waits until he leaves before she backs the general's plan to the supreme leader. if kylo has noticed she's been favoring hux over anyone and anything else, he hasn't said. she merely compliments his strategic strategy and moves on.

another day, another series of meetings, a small bit of training, and then another shower. this one feels far more cleansing than the one from that morning, though she's not expecting a visitor. that it's hux both surprises her and doesn't and, as his expression changes into something wanting, she feels it radiating from him in a way that's different from what she gets from ren.]

Yes.

[the 'of course' is implied as she steps back and lets the door shut, turning to him with wide eyes and an apology she doesn't speak.]

[He wants to hold her as soon as they're alone, but something in him recoils at it, a part too well-accustomed to isolating himself in times of emotional turmoil. For a few long moments, he merely looks into those eyes, grappling for words.]

I wish he wouldn't touch you.

I know.

[she does know. frankly, she wishes he wouldn't touch her, too, but the truth is that the supreme leader believes one set of relationship dynamics exists aboard the ship while another set is happening right there in her quarters, and in hux's quarters, nearly every day. if not for a bad bit of timing, she suspects that this particular conversation would have been put off for several more weeks (if not months), but unfortunately hux is an early riser and ren is sometimes a little too thorough.]

[He could tell her of the frustration in his restless hands, the moments of hot rage that threaten his reason, the way he's dreamt of Ren's death a hundred times over. The way he's nearly fantasized about it in the wake of incidents like today's, imagined sneaking up on a sleeping or unconscious Ren, aiming his pistol; the sharp recoil and the sizzle of incinerated flesh. The act itself would be easy.

The consequences wouldn't.

He could tell her of it, but it wouldn't be fair, not when she has to live with him still. Not when she has to let his hands rove over her, allow him inside her, and avoid letting her love for another man bleed into their connection.

He only moves instead to take her hands, his gaze intent and asking: touch me. Comfort me.]

[it feels like forgiveness when he takes her hands and the tightness in her chest releases slightly as she squeezes his fingers lightly before both pulling him closer and moving into his space as well.

directing his hands behind her back, she rests her head against his chest, her own hands moving to hold him, too. high against his back, her palms flat against his shoulder blades, she can feel the tension radiating from him; the tension is normal, but she loathes that she's added to it and because of this. he's always despised ren in a way that's not going to end well (this she knows), but she wonders if this has only made it worse.

if her incessant pursuit of hux because of her own selfish feelings, something he no longer seems immune to, has only made his loathing of kylo ren worse.

but she holds him tight against her for long moments in the center of her quarters, glad he's come to see her.]

Will you stay?

[She hugs him, and it takes a bit for him to relax against her, to shut his eyes and close the loop of his guided arms. Ordinarily he might kiss the top of her head or press her closer to his frame, but for the moment, this seems enough.

When she asks, he looks down at her, his voice low and quiet.]

Yes, I--I'd like you to--

[He breathes to steady himself.] --I'd like you to remind me how much you love me.

Oh, Armitage.

[he makes his request and her heart aches because she does love him and she knows that his seeing her barely dressed in kylo's quarters isn't easy for him. knowing what she does and still seeking her out remains one of his greatest acts of love, even if he cannot express it in so many words. he knows she loves him and accepts it now and she nods as she pulls back.

having showered, she'd dressed in a shirt and light pants, yet here he was in his full uniform. it's a well remembered routine, undressing him; and she starts with the buttons on his uniform jacket, smoothing it as she slides it over his shoulders. it's hung, while the rest of the pieces are folded carefully before she drops to her knees to undo his boots. her own act of love, the parts of her that are submissive before she often takes control.

tonight, however, once they're in clothes that can simply be worn to bed — her night clothes, his shirt and underwear — she doesn't offer to take it further. not yet. instead, she inhales deeply as she pulls him into another hug.]

I do love you.

[The first time he'd awkwardly, indirectly asked for her to undress him, he'd been concerned for an instant that she'd do so completely, leave him standing there exposed too early in their encounter for him to be at ease with it. Now it's routine, the way he shifts and leans on her a familiar series of steps, and the second hug is the only aspect that catches him a little off guard.

He swallows back against the tightness of his throat, resting his cheek against her head as he returns the gesture.]

Sometimes I--it isn't rational, but I--worry. [A whispered confession between unsteady breaths.] That there are things--that are better with him. That you can't have with me.

[it's not at all funny but the urge to laugh is there all the same.

her fingers curl into the soft fabric of his undershirt as she breathes him in, turning her face into his chest to do so. she's well aware of how he feels about his body, the inadequacies that fill his mind no matter how many times she's told him how she feels about him, and it doesn't surprise her that he holds anxieties about the time she spends with ren.]

I didn't choose him, I chose you, and that makes everything different. It makes it better with you. [she doesn't want to do detail for obvious reasons.] He's nothing more than a job, but with you, I feel--you don't need to tell me how you feel, I know it's hard for you, but I know. [her voice has dropped to a whisper, too, and her hold on him tightens.] I have that with you.

[Part of him wants to say the words he never has, answer her affection in kind, crystallize the suggestion she lets hang unspoken over them. But he can feel himself teetering on the edge of losing what remains of his composure, and he doesn't want to break in front of her. Not here, not now. Not when she'll have to return to Ren in due time.

He merely squeezes her to him instead, then gently draws out of her grasp and tugs her after him by the hand to her bed.]

Perhaps we can just--

[He isn't sure how to ask for it in a way that doesn't sound silly or juvenile in his mind. Requesting sex is easier in a sense, with arousal chipping at his inhibitions and the taste of her on his lips. As he trails off, he's again reduced to gestures, turning down the bedcovers and motioning vaguely towards them.]

[as in the rest of their relationship, rey just assumes that it'll come along when it does. she knew he'd eventually admit he wanted her nearby, then eventually give in to his attraction, and she believes that when he's ready, he'll admit to himself (and to her) that he loves her. for now, the tender moments and unspoken admittances that he needs her like this will suffice. she knows him better than he thinks she does.]

We can.

[she'll scoot in first, making room for him to lay down next to her and, when he does, she'll adjust how she faces him so she can pull him close. he fits against her, but in this way, she can hold him against her; not quite the 'big spoon', but cradling his head against her upper chest, her cheek against his head, arms around his shoulders. she wants to comfort him, to remind him that she's wanted to be there, with him, for longer than anyone but him has known. that's their secret, not just their clandestine looks, kisses, and stolen moments at night.

fingers smooth through his hair as her breathing slows and her body relaxes.]

I do love you.

[she repeats it again, this time a whisper.]

[Rey has an instinct for this sort of thing that he doesn't--a feel for how to maneuver their bodies, where to rest her head and weave her arms through. He wonders sometimes where she got it from, whether it arises from the same part of her mind skilled in assembling machinery, putting broken pieces back together. (Better than picturing her entwined with Ren, snuggled up to his wide chest and held in his muscular arms.)

There's a faint sense of shame in being held like this, a part of him sure that it's inherently emasculating, that he should be the one embracing her, protecting her. But it's clear that she doesn't view it that way, that closeness and honesty make her love him all the more. He lets her stroke his hair, his face pleasantly warm, the thrumming of her heart soft against his skin.

It seems a long time before he moves again, tilting his head up to kiss her.]

[the sort of tenderness she shares with hux is not something she's learned from ren; quite the opposite, when she and ren are finished, it's as if another exercise has been completed. not for some time has the supreme leader wanted to extend their interludes into anything more than an actual power play, but previously there had been foreplay and pillow talk afterward. perhaps he knows she doesn't care for the actions or he's merely seeing how far into the force they can reach, but it rarely extends past the actual action.

no, this comes from a lack of touch in her past and knowing how she wants to be touched now. from leaning into hux and drawing on what she's learned about how he likes to be touched (his hair, the line of his jaw, the edges of his collar, the bone of his hip), and knowing that she can bring that solace and softness to them both.

if there's something wrong about holding him like this, he'll have to be the one to tell her, but when he pulls back enough for a kiss, she dips her head to give it to him. chaste and gentle at first before she deepens it, shifting against him so they're nearly level.]

[He answers her kiss in kind, caressing her cheek, then entangling his fingers with her hair as she eases passion into it. Another kiss, and he hooks a leg about her, wraps an arm, and rolls onto his back so that she's draped atop him.

Hugging her tightly, he thinks of passing a palm beneath her waistband or putting his lips to her neck, but in spite of the dim heat that comes from the press of her breast and hips, it doesn't seem as intimate, in a way. Not quite routine, but easy, an obvious progression. Nevertheless, he wants to offer her something in exchange for her tenderness and encouragement, especially with all he can't say.]

Here--sit up a moment.

[When he has the leverage to do so, he tugs his undershirt over his head and lays back down so that she can find a place against his bare chest. A small gesture, but he's sensed her disappointment at times that he's been quick to replace that garment, evident in the way she plys and dips beneath its hem.]

[there are so many ways that his baring his chest to her is far more intimate than some of the other activities that they engage in and rey stretches over him so he'll feel less exposed once he's comfortable again. it doesn't stop her from turning her face against his chest and pressing a soft kiss just above his heart, a gesture she usually makes while he's dressed. it's followed by a series of tender, open mouthed kisses across his collarbone until she stops below where his uniform would cover and mouths a small mark there, just for herself.

it's immediately soothed by another, gentler kiss, and she moves her mouth against his neck and then his jaw, before kissing him properly. balanced over him as she is, she hardly needs to brace herself against the bed; rather, she cups his face with both hands so she can deepen the kiss momentarily, before dropping her head into the crook of his neck and resting there.

the words, when they come, are very quiet.]

I'm yours.

[He twitches slightly as she leaves that mark, but doesn't protest; the trailing of her lips up his neck and jaw is sufficiently distracting, his breath hitching in the moment before she returns to his mouth.

When she whispers, his hand goes to her hair again, stroking tenderly.]

You're mine.

[Not Ren's, his. Ren may have been able to upset the balance of power in his favor, but for all his physical advantages, the girl that seems his natural counterpart would rather have his gangly, Force-insensitive rival. It seems an absurdity, on its face--if Ren knew, he'd surely expect some long, conniving seduction on Hux's part, anything but a scenario where Rey pined and cajoled and chased in the purest of ways. Where she'd chosen and he'd fallen, despite his best efforts.

He whispers a promise, to himself as much as her:]

Someday we won't have to sneak around like this. I don't yet know when I'll have the leverage to alter the situation, but that time will come.

[there isn't a moment that rey can imagine not having to sneak around like they are. if not because of ren, then because of the rest of his soldiers and crew. at no point does she see the rest of the first order accepting the scavenger that she's been openly hostile to in the past as his... well, anything. but as his romantic partner? they'll have to assume she's tricked him.

she doesn't say so, choosing instead to tighten her hold slightly, not wanting him to do anything to damage their already precarious position.]

You're not alone should you choose to act.

[it's still quiet against the crook of his neck and she breathes him in as she contemplates the fallout of such and action.] He's not the only Force sensitive individual that they can lean on.

[except, she thinks, he's the only one they still trust.]