Work Text:
“Heyyyy beautiful!”
As Ann sent her message that she was on her way home and her shoot went well as she walked out of her train and into the rowdy underground, she didn’t so much as look up from her phone in response to the oh so familiar comment that had come from one of the many strangers now behind her, whoever it was quickly dissolving into the crowd. It wasn’t as if she was actively trying to be rude or had anything against whoever had said it or anything. How could she when she had no idea who they even were? It wasn’t that she was particularly trying to prove a point either, nor even really that she was already quite happily in a relationship. It was just she didn’t really care one way or the other. She didn’t care who had said it, she didn’t care why they thought so and why they felt the need to make it known, and she didn’t particularly care what his reaction was to her brushing him off.
Such comments were most certainly nothing new to her. As far back as she could remember her appearance had attracted plenty of attention, and with it many compliments. As a child she’d be constantly be called ‘cute’ and ‘adorable’, fussed over by family and strangers alike. Every set of new neighbours from every new neighbourhood felt the need to tell her she had her fathers eyes and her mothers smile, and in Ann’s life she’d had many new neighbours. She’d heard the same from teachers, her parents work colleagues, even teachers and other kids in school had told her as such. As she’d aged the comments changed along with her, cute to pretty, pretty to hot, hot to sexy. No matter how they’d phrased it though it’d all really boiled down to one thing. People thought she looked good. That she was beautiful.
Ann caught sight of herself in a shop window as she walked. She agreed with them that much.
She wasn’t dense or unconfident enough to not realise it, nor was she humble enough to deny it, and the strong and sexy women she’d admired growing up both in her parent’s industry and in whatever manga or anime she was currently hooked on had helped her outright embrace it. Hell she was making her own career out of it slowly but surely. Math and lectures on nutrition and exercise may have evaded her, but she’d quickly learned what make-up complimented her natural looks and what clothing styles and colours she wore best, and she wore it all with pride. She’d long discovered that invited quite the mixed bag of reactions. A woman being sexy was one thing, but being aware of and owning her sexuality, unashamed and happy to go through the doors it opened? That went over significantly less well with certain people. Rumours had followed her all her young life too, not helped at all by the attention and assumptions her mixed ethnicity got her, and somehow how quick she was to put anyone in their place when they conflated her looks with being easy only made them spread faster. Still, be it pride or stubbornness their words had never deterred her. She’d never seriously considered dyeing her hair black or wearing contacts to look less Western, never considered swapping her various colored hairclips or bright red leggings that also demanded attention. It had even been in essence where her own cognition had form the attire of Panther form. Granted it was a little on the nose for her liking, and that she had first had to wear it around a guy she barely knew, a cat thing she barely knew, and a boy even without hindsight she actually did know well enough to know just how much he’d appreciate such an outfit didn’t help, but it was still her own vision of rebellion at the core.
Besides, it wasn’t as if it was just empty catcalls or scornful whispers that she got from looking like she did. Now that her vision for the future in the model and fashion industry was a clearer one, words from photographers endorsing her charms and agents describing jobs as perfect for her were all welcoming, as was seeing her magazines being swept up of the shelves or seeing people stopping to look up at a billboard because she was on it. Even among her fellow models she had just as many admirers as she did Mika-like rivals, the words from new upstarts and veterans alike filling her with joy. It did a lot to keep her chin up whenever the rejections on the basis of looking for more ‘traditional’ girls had her frustrated, helped remind her that her hard work was paying off. The encouragement she got from those close to her meant even more however, from her family, from Shiho, and of course the once Phantom Thieves. The girls had made it clear that Ann was their first point of reference when it came to style and beauty tips, Futaba in particular looking up to her and aspiring to match her ‘maturity’. Ren had been one of the main reasons she had been able to build up confidence in herself again when it was at it’s lowest, and with both getting to know each other and a more firm grasp on boundaries set, Yusuke’s flowery descriptions of aesthetics he rattled off as she posed for his paintings were actually quite flattering. Even Morgana’s clear since day one admiration for his ‘Lady Ann’ were cute enough when he didn’t go overboard with it. The sincerity in their words meant everything to her. The isolation and ostracisation she once experienced had been awful, but knowing that the people she’d grown to love had such a high opinion of her more than made up for it.
Speaking of love Ann was shook out of her thoughts by the quick succession of vibrations coming from her pocket, telling her that her message had been answered. She swiped it open.
[Cool. Told you you’d knock em dead!]
[They’d have been mad not to go with you!]
[I’ve got dinner on, so stay safe and hurry back.]
[Don’t stop off for crepes again I worked hard on this shit!]
Shaking her head Ann placed her phone back in her pocket and picked up the pace, her eagerness to see the message’s sender (and the promise of food) spurring on her stride. As much as they flip-flopped between sweet and crude sometimes, compliments from Ryuji definitely held the most weight and value for her. Given, a lot of the time they were either preceded with or followed by some form of teasing jab or prickling insult, but then she wasn’t in much of a position to hold that one against him. It’s how ‘that cute obnoxious boy from track’ and ‘that loud smartass hottie’ had spoken to one another ever since middle school after all, and given how their feelings always managed to come through to one another that way then why mess with a good thing? Whether or not he dished them out in the form of a humorous tease or gave it to her straight she loved his praise all the same, them all meaning a hell of a lot more than those of random salaryman or about to be let down wannabe pick up artist. Where they’d tell her she’d be cuter if she smiled more, he’d comment on how sweet her scowl was before asking what was wrong and what he could do about it. Where they’d point out how ‘exotic’ her blonde hair was, he’d tell her how much he loved how much they matched and how he’d keep dyeing his own hair forever. Where they’d oh so charmingly call out how amazing and perfect her ass was, he’d…
…
Okay fine he did say that kind of thing quite a bit, but the difference was she actually wanted to hear it from Ryuji. No, more than that. She desired to hear it. She desired to be desired, and he most certainly did that. Surprisingly for someone with such a dirty mouth, Ryuji wasn’t all that big on dishing out dirty talk. He loved to hear it and his own not-so honeyed words came in the thoughtless throes of passion, but that was about the extent of it. He let her know his feelings in plenty of other ways though. The way that he became just as breathless at the sight of her body the hundredth time he’d seen it as the first. The way his eyes filled with unfiltered need where others simple showed want. The way his cherishing strokes and gentle caresses became possessive grasps and grabs when she got him riled up. The wordless ways he got across just how wild she drove him and just how sexy he found her made his questionable vocabulary a non-issue.
Still it was more than all that though. As much as such welcomed it, there was something beyond all the lust, beyond the reverence and the no filter flattery.
‘Alright, I’ll leave this to you and those mad people skills of yours.’
‘Y’know, you’re lucky you’re so funny or I might get sick of your shit, y’know that?
‘Look, I know you really ain’t in to the whole gym thing like me, so props for stick with it. Maybe being so damn stubborn ain’t so bad after all?’
‘I ain’t gonna eff this up. No way. Shit’s too important. You’re too important Ann.’
It was that he actually saw beyond all that. He saw and loved her beauty, but so did most everyone. But he also saw the fire in her heart. He saw all the sweat and tears she’d put in to her career, he saw her fight tooth and nail for her friends, he saw her snort and laugh over total nonsense and throw pens across the room when so called basic arithmetic threw her into a rage. And he loved all that too. She’d always known about her looks, had never needed any reassurance. But when he let her know how much he loved her strength and her pride, how much more complete and simple she made his life, just how damn happy he was that she existed? Those were the words that truly had a hold on her.
Ann’s daydreaming made her commute come to an end before she knew it, and as she unlocked the door she was greeted with both a delicious sweet and savoury scent from the kitchen, and her lounging boyfriend who had hopefully not forgotten about keeping an eye on whatever he had cooking. At her arrival Ryuji pulled himself up from his seat with a dramatic stretch and sporting that ridiculously large grin she was so accustomed to.
“Heya beautiful.”
Ann felt her lips curl upwards, and throwing her coat behind him and on to his former seat she fell into his chest.
“Mmmm, say it one more time.” she asked. Ryuji snorted in amusement.
“I said, hey beautiful.”
“One more time...”
She laughed as he gently shoved her off, smiling and muttering as he headed back towards the kitchen.