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gingerbreadmonsters · 2 years

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thy fair imperfect shade

or: some dreams are much, much sweeter than others.

gn!reader, spicy sexy fluff and... angst? what?! that wasn’t the plan… the elliott brainrot is so unbelievably strong - in lieu of a hot boi summer audio for him, i offer this as a poor substitute. is it even possible canonically for dreamwalkers to dream involuntarily? let’s say yes. inspired by shakespeare’s sonnet 43. sunshine is gender neutral and their anatomy is not described - no particular… equipment required. elliott having a rather exciting evening for just over 2400 words.

edit: he does have a BA, i am an idiot - thank you @salem--bitch--trials and @softredrobin for reminding me, and giving me plans for this evening :)

this fic contains explicit content. 18+ only. minors please do not interact. thank you.

it begins, as it always does, with a smile.

you're sitting across from him, cross-legged on his bed, looking up from where your textbook is lying in your lap. it must be late afternoon by now, a soft wash of sun streaming in through the window and bathing his bedroom in gold, specks of dust tumbling past the windowsill.

his face is warm, almost too warm, where the light falls, and he wonders absentmindedly if he should shut the curtains.

you’ve both been studying for… well, he’s not actually sure, now that he thinks about it. his thoughts drip slowly, like honey through his brain. it must have been a while though, because you’ve apparently had enough of staring down at your notes and decided, instead, to look at him.

the beginnings of a smile - that sweet smile that he knows so well, the one that makes his heart stumble in his chest, the one that he’s so lucky to see - plays across your lips as your eyes meet his.

"...do i have something on my face?"

self-consciously, he shifts his weight a little on the bed as his hand comes up to rub over his jaw. you're still staring at him, eyes now fixed on where his fingers brush his lips, and he has to take in a big, shaky breath to push down the hopeful heat inside him when you slip the textbook out of your lap and lean towards him.

"well, not exactly."

your smile widens even further as you scoot across the cornflower blue of his bedspread to sit in front of him. surprised by - but certainly not complaining about - your sudden boldness, he does a sort of startled, awkward half-shuffle backwards, leaving him propped up against the headboard as your leg swings over his hips and your hands slide up to his shoulders.

all of a sudden, his head is spinning as his senses spiral inwards, focused on nothing but the familiar heat of your chest so close to his, the teasing touch of your fingers through his shirt, the comforting weight of your body pressing down through his jeans.

it all happens very fast, and once his brain stops malfunctioning, elliott comes to two very important realisations.

the first one is that you're close, now, very close, and he can see every minute facet of your face as you pin him against the bed. every eyelash that glints in the light, every tiny twitch of your lips as you smirk down at him, every line and bump and dot across your skin. everything, all of it, all at once. perfect, pristine detail.

the second one is that he feels very, very good. ordinarily, this wouldn’t be a bad thing, but the way you’re sitting almost on his hips means that if he starts feeling any better, then you’ll definitely be able to tell.

that’s a bit of a problem, because if anyone is able to have that particular effect on him, it’s you.

“s-sunshine, uh, you-”

god, he’s really gonna have to concentrate if h- shit, you’re leaning forward to brush your lips against the curve of his cheek, and your hands are running up the sides of his neck and twisting into his hair, and there’s not a chance he makes it through this with his dignity intact.

“what?” your voice in his ear sends a shiver right through him, jittery hands scrunching up cornflower blue cotton. your weight shifts forward, chest coming to press against his, and fuck, your hips tilt just so-

“nnnng- sunshine-!”

a finger presses against his lips, and his eyes fly open (wait, when did they close?). he takes another deep breath, but it’s a bit late for that now. fuck, you’ve definitely noticed his- uh, his predicament, if the mischievous look in your eyes is any indication.

“please, yes, please, baby, i need…” he can’t say much, brain jammed full of affection and embarrassment and guilty arousal. you don’t say anything. you’re too busy hooking your index finger under his chin and kissing him absolutely boneless on his bed, on his bed, his bed that is in his room, the room you’ve hung out together in for years now, holy fuck you’re kissing him-

his hands come up to hold your waist, tentatively at first but with more and more confidence as your tongue smooths over his bottom lip. he hasn’t really been paying attention to what your hands are doing, although there’s definitely one cupping his jaw, so where’s the othe-

“sshhhh- ahhhhh!”

you - he - your hand - warm - his - !!!

your fingers are quick and deliberate as they find their prize - he lets himself relax into the electric feeling of your touch, into the sloppiness of your shared kiss, into the tightening of his stomach as your hand gets faster and faster.

the two of you have never talked about this kind of thing before - hell, your first kiss had only been a few minutes ago - but he can’t pretend he hasn’t thought about it. about you, your lovely body and your lovelier mind. about the way you might look, above him, underneath him, relaxed and wanting in his lap. desperate, writhing, aching for him. content, sated, peaceful in his arms.

he can’t think. he doesn’t really want to. everything’s just so… slick - your lips, his lips, your hand, his-

ahem.

that is to say, his face is burning, and he knows that he’s not going to last much longer if you - nnnng - if you keep going like this.

“sunshine, i- mmm, sunshine, please…” you swallow his needy, drawn-out whimpers whole, pulling them up out of his lungs, scooping them out of his mouth with your quick tongue.

“not yet.”

before he can react, you’re already halfway down his body - sticky, shiny fingers tugging his jeans and boxers (thank god he hadn’t picked an embarrassing pair this morning) down. you look up at him, wide eyes full of love and searching for confirmation.

he nods hurriedly, and that silver tongue of yours wastes no time in joining your fingers. the light streaming in through the window is suddenly overwhelming, bright and white and so very warm, and his eyes squeeze shut as you - oh, when you flick your tongue like that…

the whole world narrows down to this room, his room. the sunlight streaming through the window, the curl of your fingers, and the dark blue drips of saliva on cotton.

the sounds of your mouth on him are deafening in his quiet bedroom, elastic and wet and hungry. you wind your arms under his legs and grab his hips to pull yourself even closer, face buried in him, and his thighs can’t help but tremble against the sides of your head.

it’s just too good, you feel too good, you, his best friend, his sunshine, the only one he’s ever wanted like this - the sloppy heat of your mouth, the firm press of your fingers, the soft look in your eyes as you look up at- shit, you’re looking up at him, he’s not - he can’t-

“ahhh - please, please… ”

the letters jumble in his throat, spilling out of his mouth without your lips there to catch them. it doesn’t matter - you know exactly what he’s going to say, and the vibrations of your voice make him keen, high and thin, as you speak.

“anything for you, elliott.”

he feels your smile, that smile, against him as he-

“let go, love.”

-just as he

wakes

up.

…

fuck.

he has to stop doing this.

elliott groans, groggy and low, and cracks one eye open. the view is the same as it had been when he’d got into bed - a dark room, curtains closed, blue bedsheets with no other occupant but him.

look, he doesn’t do it on purpose. it’s not like he wants to - well, he does, but not like that!

the mattress creaks as he slumps back into his pillow. he tries not to think about it.

he… he likes liking you. he likes the way you make him feel, the comforting embrace of your friendship, unconditional and unwavering. the giddy shudder that races through him when you nestle yourself into his chest. the knowledge that there’s someone there who knows him, who always understands him, who he trusts and who trusts him in return.

the two of you are inseparable, always have been. you know things about each other that you’d never dare tell another soul, you’ve kept secrets for each other, covered for each other, shared homework and late-night phone calls and shopping trips for last-minute birthday presents.

it feels good, to be your friend. it feels good, to have a crush on you too. even if it might be painful sometimes, even if it makes his heart hurt when he can’t give you a proper kiss hello, or buy you a big bunch of pink flowers for valentines day. it’s all worth it for those moments when he can pretend - when his brain fizzes because you said “ok, love you” when you hung up the phone, or your lips brushed his neck as you wrapped your arms around him.

he’s been crushing on you for what seems like forever, and he’d thought that he’d accepted that it would always be a crush. he’d always be your best friend, but that would be all, nothing more.

that was when the dreams began.

they’re never the same, and they catch him off guard every time - they might be several months apart, or they might be every night for a week.

(he doesn’t want to think about that week. it had been in the middle of summer, just after you’d gone to the beach together, and he hadn’t quite been able to look you in the eye for some time without remembering… well. let’s just say that his dreams that week had been very, very sweet.)

the scenarios vary, too. he’s dreamt about you in every way, in every place, in every state of being - some innocent, most less so. his dreamwalker brain, normally a blessing, becomes the bane of his existence.

you see, that’s the problem, isn’t it?

if he weren’t a dreamwalker, if he didn’t have all this power inside him, would he feel so guilty? he’s always lucid in his dreams to some degree, and while he sometimes doesn’t fully realise that these dreams of you aren’t real while they’re happening, there’s always a tingle in the back of his mind that tells him that you’re not really there.

that he’s indulging himself in his filthy thoughts of you. that he’s getting off to the image of his sweet best friend.

he’s used to manipulating millions of variables at once, cells and atoms and the workings of the universe, and when that comes to someone like you, who he knows as well as he knows himself?

it means that when he sees you in his sleeping mind’s eye, you are perfect. you are perfect, and he hates it.

let him clarify - you are, of course, perfect all the time, and he adores you wholeheartedly. the problem is that he can replicate it, making a dream-you in his head that’s almost indistinguishable, and it makes him feel awful.

he feels awful, because isn’t it kind of fucked up to be having dreams about that sort of thing with a- a clone of you? isn’t it kind of creepy, like fucking some kind of weird hyper-realistic sex doll and pretending it’s you? like, yeah, when other people have wet dreams, they’re also doing sort of the same thing, but they don’t have his processing power. they can’t make a dream like he can make you.

they don’t know, in the moment, that it’s not real. he always knows, but he does it all the same.

remembering the sound of your voice or the heat of your touch, those innocent moments in the daytime that fuel his nighttime… activities - is it wrong of him to replay those over and over in his mind, each time getting further and further away from the truth?

or is it okay? is it fine, what he’s doing? if he knows it’s not real, then he’s just fantasising - and that’s not a crime, is it? he’d never do anything like force himself onto you, or magically recreate his imagined delusions in the waking world, or invade your dreams and make you think of him the way he thinks of you. he’ll never do that sort of thing, not to you or to anyone. that’s the last thing he could ever want to do.

the bit that really fucks him up is that you don’t even know that he has magic, yet. that’s the worst part. you have no idea that he’s capable of making his fantasies indistinguishable from reality. he knows every detail of you - when he kisses you, when he touches you in his dreams, how is that different from if he’d done it to the real thing?

if you’re not actually there… it has to be different, right?

it breaks his heart, to know that he’s thinking such depraved things about his wonderful best friend. to ache for you, pine for you so sweetly in the daylight, and yet still be imagining you naked, touching himself to your perfect image. what kind of might-be-boyfriend could do that to you?

you’ll never know, at least. that’s something to be comforted by. he’s never tried to project his dreams into your head, so you’ve never seen them. dream-you is always eager, always so sweet and in love, so it’s comforting to know that even in his head, in the midst of his deepest desires, he’s never made you do anything you (well, dream-you) didn’t want to do. you’ll never know any of it.

you’ll never know how he dreams of you, how he wakes up to heavy breaths, a racing heart, a desperate fire in his stomach. how he lies there in his bed, alone amidst cornflower blue cotton, and how one hand comes up to clamp over his mouth while the other-

it doesn’t matter. you’ll never know.

…

not far away, you wake up with a start. heavy breaths, a racing heart, a desperate fire in your stomach. your lips tingle with the heat of phantom kisses, and your hands?

your hands sneak downwards as you think, guiltily, about your best friend and a very familiar blue bedspread.

you’d been having such a nice dream, after all. it would be a shame not to continue where you left off.

masterlist

this is an original work by @gingerbreadmonsters - please do not repost or misattribute

#redacted asmr #elliott x sunshine #elliott x reader #redacted elliott #redacted sunshine #redactedasmr #redacted smut #redacted fluff #redacted angst #ginger after dark #ginger writes #gingerbreadmonsters

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cayofdreams · 3 years

Text

Establishing the Monocracy

~(Brat!Reader x Bakugou)~

Words: 3.4k

Rating: 🌊 18+, Smut

Warnings/Tags: cunnilingus, teasing, slight degradation

Notes: I was writing this req and just got inspired cuz Bakugou. Ended up being somewhat a preface to my Down with the Monocracy (which ofc is not a req reading to enjoy this)

<><>~~~~~~~<><>~~~~~~~🌹 ~~~~~~<><>~~~~~~~<><>

“Ohhh~! Yeah baby, right there!! So good!!”

The obnoxious moaning of the actress through your phone’s speakers made Bakugou quickly turn around from his desk to glare bullets into you. You were sitting on his bed, looking nonchalantly at the events transpiring on the screen.

The two of you were supposed to go out later to hangout with friends so you stopped by his place to kill time. Two hours of time. A normal occurrence for you considering you liked to annoy your friend-and-rival whenever you could, and admittedly his surprisingly cozy room was comfortable to just laze around in. Usually you’d read manga while he did whatever but Mina had sent you a rather vulgar clip with the caption ‘how i hope my night ends 😝😝!!’.

“Oi! What the fuck are you looking at in my room?! Turn that shit off!” More than the fact that you were boldly watching porn in his vicinity, he was more perplexed at how you were still playing the video after he called you out. “Why the fuck are you watching that?!”

“I just don’t get it.” Scratching your head, you continued to look quizzingly at the actress’ performance. “I mean, people actually find this stuff arousing?”

“Are you just gonna ignore my question?!”

“Oh my goodness, calm down. Mina sent me a video. She’s acting like its the hottest thing ever but it isn’t entertaining at all.” You rolled your eyes before concentrating once more on your phone’s screen.

Finding it useless to ask if it was normal for friends to send porn to each other he instead questioned just what you were looking at to elicit such a response from you.

“What? You used to some kind of extravagant sex or some shit?”

“No. Rather what’s happening here is extravagant. Literally no one does this in real life. It’s so unrealistic.”

A million questions ran through Bakugou’s head at this moment. Why were you watching porn in his room? What the fuck kind of porn is so bizarre that a deviant like you is confused? And Jesus were to trying to start something right now? Was he literally in a shitty porn introduction and didn’t know it?

“Fuck~!! Hyahhh!! I’m gonna cummm~~!!!”

The sounds of the video continued to penetrate through Bakugou’s room. Mentally he was annoyed at the fact that he just wanted to get ahead on some paperwork before going out and your idiocy was preventing that, but physically the boner that was rising in his pants was only more and more intrigued. The woman he’d been undressing with his eyes for longest of times was now in his room, laying on his bed, watching porn.

“I mean seriously, only an idiot could think guys do this.”

“What the hell crazy shit are you looking at??”

“That thing that’s in like every porn. Where the guy is like licking her down there. Cunnilingus, if you will.”

Bakugou raised his eyebrow at you. “You mean eating pussy?”

“Oh my god…you’re so vulgar.” Rolling your eyes, you turned on your side, back faced towards Bakugou.

“You’re the fucking one in my room watching-“ As he glanced at your figure, he wondered just what the fuck you were getting at. Were you weirdly trying to seduce him? By playing porn and then pretending as if you were inexperienced in oral sex just for his sexual interest in you to pique? Were you trying to sexually outsmart him? Bakugou chuckled as he got up and walked towards you. “You think you’re so fucking sneaky, huh?”

You felt the increasing weight on the bed as Bakugou pressed his knee into the mattress to close his torso in on you. “What?” Quirking your eyebrow and turning towards him, you pondered his sudden shift in demeanor.

“Don’t fucking play dumb. I know what you’re doing.” Bakugou gripped his fingers around the collar of your shirt, forcing you to directly face him. “Since you pissed me off, I’m not doing shit with you even if you asked nicely.” He let go of you to walk back toward his desk, slumping himself in the chair. “Pretending like guys aren’t lining up to worship your pussy with their tongue just to get me to pity you. Pathetic.”

You paused as you analyzed his mood. Clearly he was upset at you, but you didn’t have the slightest idea why. “I agree that I should be worshipped but I don’t quite understand what you’re talking about.”

Bakugou clicked his tongue and shot a glare at you. “There’s no fucking way you’re gonna sit here and tell me some loser hasn’t been down on you. Didn’t you just get out of a relationship?”

“Mmm…yeah.”

“And you fucked, yeah?”

“We had sexual relations, yes.”

“And he never went down on you?”

“No. He said it wasn’t necessary.”

“W-What?”

“Well, he said since I’m quote-on-quote, horny all the time, it wasn’t necessary.”

Bakugou knew you were a trickster of sorts, but the way you just nonchalantly talked about your bitch of a boyfriend like it was normal told him you weren’t lying. Did someone like you, the prissiest, most self-absorbed chick in the universe really date someone who wouldn’t go down on you. Fuck, did you miss out.

Or rather, the bastard missed out.

Some snobbish prick didn’t hop on the chance to make you squirm under them? The one chance they’d probably have in asserting their rightful dominance over you, and they were too fucking stupid to not take it? It’d be a lie to say that when Bakugou saw those soft plushy thighs of yours peeking out from under your tight skirts he didn’t fantasize about the dripping mess he could create underneath.

Hell, you practically put your pussy on display whenever you wore those so-called ‘athletic’ shorts that helped you move faster as you’d claim. Bullshit. As if you weren’t tempting every loser in your vicinity with those faint imprints of your pussy lips through those shorts. Fuck, if he had known the whole time you were dating that piece of shit that he wasn’t going down on you, he would’ve fucking shown you what you were missing out on.

Well he wasn’t going to make the same shitty mistake as your boyfriend.

With a small curl of his lips, he cocked an eyebrow towards you. “You wanna find out what you missed out on?”

“Huh?”

“What your shitty ex was too stupid to not do, you want me to do it?”

After taking a moment to process Bakugou’s advances, you erupted into laughter. “No way!”

“Why the fuck are you laughing?!” Here he was, practically stripping his ego away for you, and you were just going to laugh in his face? Refusing his incredibly generous offer? Nevermind the sadistic value he’d receive from having you completely fall apart under him, it was still you who’d reap most the benefits.

You wiped a tear from the corner of your eye, trying to stifle your snickers. “Okay, and I suppose you’re going to make me scream obnoxiously like the girl in that video, are you?” You face turned from amused to stern. “Unfortunately for you, I’ve already had sex and its nothing like what’s portrayed in that silly pornography. I’m sure it’s the same for- what do you call it? ‘Going down’? So, don’t even waste my time, Bakugou.”

Bakugou chuckled at your ignorance. Not only had you not had the pleasure of your pussy being smothered by some bastard’s tongue, but he wasn’t even fucking you properly? You poor thing. Honestly, he was a little offended you were only just now relaying this information onto him.

While you were trying to go back to whatever random things you were doing on your phone before Mina interrupted you, Bakugou strode back over to his bed, this time climbing on top of it, maneuvering your thighs so that he’d be seated between them.

“Oh no, did I awaken the challenger part of you? I’ve said what I said now get off.” You tried to kick you foot at him but he caught your ankle in his grip.

“Going against your weak excuse of a boyfriend is hardly a challenge, princess.”

“Oh ho-ho, so getting me to actually feel pleasure from what-ever you’re about to do is the challenge?”

“That’s not a challenge either.”

Sucking your teeth, you hastily took off your skirt and spread your thighs for him. “Fine. You have one chance, Ba-KA-gou.”

“Tch. Just do me favor and-“ Bakugou placed your hands around your knees and further spread your thighs apart. “keep ‘em fuckin’ spread.”

Rolling your eyes, you silently complied. You weren’t shy in the least about your body but the way Bakugou was intently zeroing in on the clothed folds of your pussy made your breath a bit shaky.

Just when you were about to say something about his odd silence you felt the soft peck of his lips on your thigh. That peck was slowly followed by another, this time slightly closer to your center. As you tried to ease your breathing each peck made you more wet than the previous. By the time Bakugou was at the lining of your panties, you were practically pooling through the fabric. Smirking at your trembling he looked up at you.

“Shy?”

“N-No! You’re just incredibly slow. I bet you’re just h-hesitating because you don’t know how to- Owwch!” Bakugou had sunk his teeth into the softness of your thighs. Not enough to break skin, but enough to make you kick your heel into his back in retaliation. “What was that for?! You brute!”

“You’re getting on me about going slow but you’ve been the one wasting everyone’s time, Y/N.” He stroked the tip of his index finger along the slit of your panties, making more of your juices spill through the fabric. “Dating some shitty asshole when you could’ve been wetting this glorious cock the whole time.” He circled his finger around the clothed hood of your clit, reveling in the broken whimpers you couldn’t help but let out. “So now I’m gonna take allll the fucking time I want. So just lay there and try to make this a challenge for me.”

Bakugou then wrapped his lips around your pussy, soaking his saliva through your panties. He wasn’t even directly touching you but the rampant motions of his hot tongue through the now drenched cloth made your hips squirm underneath him. He went back and forth from licking to sucking you over your panties, pausing when you quivered too much or moaned too loud. He didn’t want to accidentally make you cum before his main act.

Unconsciously, you had let go of your knees to glide your fingers through his spikey locks, slightly pulling him forward as if he’d be able to ghost his tongue through your panties. He looked back up at you, pleased with your erotically joyous face.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep your hands there? You’re distracting me.”

Letting out a noise somewhere between a scoff and a whine, you re-placed your hands around your knees.

“So surprisingly obedient.” Bakugou slipped his finger around the crotch of your panties, gliding his knuckle around your swelled clit. “Probably because you’re just desperate to have your pussy played with. What a slut.” He increased the pressure of his knuckle around your clit and the feeling of it made you lean your head back against Bakugou’s pillows. “How about you tell me what you want, princess?”

Regulating your breathing enough to form a sentence you rose your head again to meet his vermillion eyes. “G-Go down on me. Prick.”

“Go? Huh? Where? In a car? Fucking clarify.”

You clicked your tongue and turned your head, annoyed at his feigning. Seeing as how you’d require a little encouragement, Bakugou pressed a kiss against clothed pussy, rubbing the tip of his nose where your clit would lie directly underneath. “C’mon. You’re college educated, right? Use your fucking vocabulary.”

You slowly turned your head towards him, the twitching agitation of your eyebrows only fueling him more. “Will you perform cunnil-“

“Finish that sentence and I’m leaving.”

Not wanting to test him on that threat, you reluctantly parted your lips. “…Eat my…” Bakugou licked stripe along your completely soaked panties, stopping to wiggle the tip his tongue against where your clit would be. “Mmnnn~…my pussy...”

“What? Can you fucking speak up? You can present shit in front of a whole audience but now you’re being as quiet as a damn mouse.”

“F-fuck…Bakugou. Damn you.” Your eyes became watery at the mix of humiliation and pressing desire to be touched directly. Were you really going to soil your ego for this bag of cockiness? Surely it wasn’t worth it. Is what your mind would probably say. But right now, your pussy wore the crown. And the queen was craving attention. “I want you to- to e-eat my pussy.”

Bakugou placed another bite on your inner thigh making your body jolt. “Can’t even add a damn ‘please’ to that? I’m sure your type was taught manners.”

“Pleeaassee~ Fuck! Please eat my pussy, Bakugou!”

A small burst of laughter left him as he slapped your thigh. “Well take ‘em off, princess.”

Begrudgingly taking off your panties, a shiny string of your wetness that connected you with the fabric broke as you threw them on the floor. Reassuming the previous positioning of your thighs, your now bare pussy was left open and vulnerable to your rival.

He leaned down to hover over your pussy, his nose trickling against the hood of your clit. You were already so wet for him. Your pussy was just glistening with juices that begged for tending to. Steadying his position between your thighs he glanced at you one more time. “You better not move.” He then licked a stripe up your folds, stimulating your clit in the process.

“Hyaah~!” The feeling was too much for your somewhat-inexperienced pussy and caused you to involuntarily push Bakugou back with your feet. The annoyance of being stopped was promptly displaced with satisfaction as he peered at your pitiful form.

“What did I just fuckin’ say? Open your legs again.” His voice that was rasp with frustration didn’t match his look of sadistic gratification. You were giving him just the reaction he wanted. Did you really think your meek little pussy was any match for him? He had barely touched you and this is how you’re acting? And the fact you were still hesitating on presenting that little pussy to him again only drove him more eager to ravish you.

“Dammit, Y/N. Do I have to do every fucking thing?” Bakugou pulled you up by the waist so that you were in a piledriver-like position, with your back arched and ass raised in the air, and of course your pussy now directly presented up towards him. The crook of your neck was nothing compared to his tight grip around your hips, the squish of your flesh plunging from between his fingers. You couldn’t even use your legs to fight against him as his grip was too secure. “All I’m doing for you, and you can’t even follow simple fucking directions.

“’C-Cuz it felt too-Hmmnngh~!” You were cut off by the ravaging of Bakugou’s tongue over your pussy folds. He went back and forth from slurping up your juices to flicking his tongue over and over on your clit. If you weren’t already embarrassed by the position you were in, the absolute filthy sounds Bakugou was making with his mouth were achieving that. “Hnnggh~Baku…Bakugou!” You tried flailing your legs around in the air but Bakugou quickly grasped them in his hands.

He ran his nails down the silky surface of your thighs, making for a sweetly masochistic pleasure mixed with his obscene lapping at your pussy. Continuing his gorging on your sweet pussy, he could feel you shaking from below him. He looked down below at your face, chucking into your pussy at how wretchedly delirious you looked.

“Gonna cum?” You vehemently shook your head no despite the swelling you felt within your pelvis. He slithered his hands down to glide them up your shirt, lifting up your bra above your soft breasts. “Well I’m not fucking stopping until you do. So give me something to play with until then.”

Bakugou roughly kneaded at your breasts between his fingers, squeezing them to hear your pitchy whines at the pain. The mix of his saliva and your slippery essence drooled from your pussy to pool at your tummy and breasts. He gathered a bit of the mixture and slicked his fingers in circles on your nipples. The erotic feeling of it sent a surge of pleasure straight to your pussy. “Ahahnn~ Bakugou…I-I’m gonna cumm~”

He locked eyes with you, continuing to slick his tongue around your clit. “From what?” Boosting your urgency to reply, he pinched a little harder at your nipples. “Tell me what you’re gonna cum from, princess.”

“F-From you eating my pussy~! From Katsuki eating my pussy~!!” The sounds of hearing you use his name for the first time made him pink in the cheeks and twitch in his boxers. Bakugou came up from between your hips, enticed to make you say more lewd things. You were rarely one to speak vulgarly so he’d make the best of your blissed-out state.

“Ahaha-! You sound like those silly pornos!” Not thinking your face could feel even more hot, you felt your cheeks rise with even more heat at his teasing. Bakugou took one of the hands from your breasts and palmed it against your slippery folds. “You still think every guy is like your stupid fucking ex, Y/N?” He ran his palm back and forth against your slit to keep you right on the edge of an orgasm.

“Noo~! Katsuki is so m-much better! Katsuki is sooo much better than my stupid ex~!”

He chuckled at your admittance, but of course, he couldn’t leave it there. “I’m kinda the fuckin’ best, aren’t I?”

“Hmmnn~! Yesss! ~the best! K-Katsuki is the bessst~!”

“You wanna cum on my tongue?”

“Please! Please let me-! Please let me cum on your tongue, Katsuki~!”

“You better fuckin’ listen to me and stay still, then. And don’t look away from me.”

Bakugou threw you back on the bed before lying on his stomach to place himself once more at your quivering pussy. Making sure your eyes were locked with his, he enveloped your folds within his mouth, sucking directly on your clit. He not only feasted on your pussy, but on the entranced look in your eyes. Your e/c eyes that looked at him like he was the only one that could gratify your carnal desires.

And from now on, he’d be sure he was the only one.

You gripped your fingers at the bed sheets beneath you as your orgasm rapidly creeped up on you. The intensity of Bakugou’s tongue coupled with his eye contact was sending you over the edge more fiercely than any pathetic ex or cheap sex toy ever could. “Ohhhmygodd~ Fuckkk-! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m-“

Forced to break eye contact with the unconscious jerk of your head back on the pillows, your pussy convulsed violently around Bakugou’s tongue. “Katsukiii~!” If you had to say, this was the most powerful orgasm you’d ever experienced. All at the hands- or tongue rather- of Bakugou Katsuki. Your ego would surely be disappointed in you choosing your pussy over it.

Bakugou slowly licked his tongue up and down your folds as you came down from your high. The corners of his lips lifted into a devious smile at your disheveled appearance. When your body finally stopped trembling, he completely separated his mouth from you and slid his body on top of yours to be face-to-face with you.

Silently, without care of you still gasping for air, he pressed his lips against yours, eventually intensifying the kiss with the slip of his tongue between your lips. Happily obliging, you glided your tongue against his as your fingers slithered up to once again fumble with his locks of hair. The taste of you on his tongue almost seemed sensual as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Sliding his hand up to gently grip at your jaw, he separated his lips from yours, licking away the chain of saliva that still connected the two of you. As he sat upright to take his shirt off, he looked down at you, embellished with yearning to relieve his own build-up.

“Should I prove you wrong on fucking too before we hang out with those losers?”

<><>~~~~~~~<><>~~~~~~~🌹 ~~~~~~<><>~~~~~~~<><>

#bakugou x reader #bakugou #bakugou smut #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha smut #bnha smut

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sparkles-and-trash · 3 years

Text

The Gaang are Roommates AU ~

note: this is a rewrite and repost of my old roommates au, there was some stuff I wanted to change, and I wanted to make the parts a little longer, so yeah, ta-dah!

- think modern setting in the canon universe, bending is still a thing

- the Gaang are all in going to Ba Sing Se University

- I’m gonna change the ages a bit to make it easier for myself, sorry

- Zuko, Sokka, Suki and Mai are 20, Katara, Ty Lee and Azula are 19, Aang, Toph and Yue are 18

- so, Zuko, Sokka, Katara, Aang and Toph end up living together in a big loft type apartment

- Sokka and Aang are old best friends, they met Toph in Middle School, and Katara is a natural part of the group

- until now Sokka and Katara have both been living in the dorms, and they both hate it intensely

- but now that Aang and Toph are also in uni, they all decide to move in together!

- …but the only problem is that the only place they find that they like is just out of their price rage (Toph’s parents aren’t supportive of her major so they’re not helping out much)

- enter: ~ Zuko ~

- so, Zuko has been living with his uncle Iroh since his Father, who’s a high up in some big and important company the Fire Nation, disowned him for speaking up against the company’s shifty treatment of workers and ruining a lot of sacred land etc

- they’re still firebenders and the scar still happened, not in an Agni Kai, but it happened

- but after Zuko started uni, Iroh really tried to push him to meet some people his own age and make some friends

- the only people Zuko talks to on the regular besides Iroh is Azula, Ty Lee and Mai, and Mai is the only one who is like, his friend yanno?

- the last year the deal was that if Zuko didn’t branch out, Iroh would have him live one year with other students

- it’s his idea of tough love

- Zuko tried to do some random kid’s homework to have them pretend to be his new friend in front of Iroh so he wouldn’t have to, but Iroh can tell he’s lying so easily

- so, Zuko ends up hearing about the Gaang through Mai, who heard from Ty Lee, who plays field hockey, Suki, who’s best friends with Sokka

- so, he goes to meet them, and it’s so awkward mY GOD

- Katara is a B I G environmental activist and HATES Ozai and his company, with good reason

- she eases up a tad when Zuko admits to being turned away from as a teen, but she is still suspicious

- Aang loves him right away, ofc, and that makes Katara even more suspicious because she’s pretty protective of Aang

- she claims it’s because he’s so kind and believes everyone but she totally liikeees hiiiim

- Toph is just like, sure, as long as he pays his rent idgaf

- Sokka is weirdly quiet, because he’s had a huge crush on Zuko forever, and the only one who knows is Aang (and Toph but she ain’t no snitch)

- so, ya boy makes the cut, and before they know it, it’s move-in day!

- but, the idiots didn’t think through the facts that it’s only three bedrooms oops

- and Toph is NOT afraid to pull the “I’m blind and I need my space” card

- and nobody’s up to fight her on it, so

- let’s just say there is A LOT of back and forth, but with Katara refusing to room with her brother again, and Zuko being rightfully scared of Katara, it ends up with Zuko and Sokka sharing a bedroom, and Katara and Aang

- they have separate beds ofc

- but still, tension, man, so much tension

- it takes a while, but the dynamics starts working out really well

- Zuko is good at grocery shopping and likes to clean, and Aang is always happy to help him out

- Sokka loves cooking, so he does that a lot

- Katara is always on top of the others with schoolwork and making sure everyone is okay, and she usually does it in genius, sneaky ways so people doesn’t even notice that she does it

- Toph is clearing the air off bullshit

- like, she will call a bitch out

- but because she cares about said bitch

- so, Aang knows that Sokka has a crush on Zuko because Sokka told him in a weak moment, and Toph knows because she just knows

- Aang is a good friend tho, and he tries to like, ease them together

- but he is so awkward about it, the poor thing, and Zuko doesn’t understand AT ALL

- Toph is just sitting back and sighing a lot

- Katara doesn’t understand either but she just stays out of it (smart girl)

- but okay, we know how oblivious Zuko can be right?

- Sokka can give him googly eyes and blush and stutter around him so much and he still has no clue at all

- Zuko starts thinking Sokka just doesn’t like him at all

- but then one night Zuko has this really intense nightmare

- okay and quick addition, his scar is… handshaped? Like, you can clearly tell what happened to him

- but nobody talks about it, yet

- but then he’s having a terrible nightmare and is talking and begging and pleading in his sleep

- so much that Sokka wakes up

- and he catches on pretty fast, but had no idea what to do

- so he just shuffles over to Zuko’s side of the room and starts tapping his shoulder rapidly

- but nothing happens

- so he just… gently and awkwardly pats his head until Zuko wakes up

- and Zuko is like… wat u doin there bro

- and Sokka is like… just patting ur head to wake you from a nightmare bro

- and they awkwardly just mumble and go back to their beds

- but Zuko is smiling a lot because someone who’s not his family or a family friend really cares about him

- after that, Zuko slowly starts opening up to all of them, but Sokka especially

- he never really tells them about being cast out and burned tho

- until one day he kinda casually slings it into a convo all fast and awkwardly

- it’s just Toph, Aang and Sokka there

- Toph yells so WHAATTT so loudly and just metalbends the whole fridge into a clump in rage

- Aang cries lmao but he tries to hide to and be supportive and not awkward

- Sokka is kinda quiet, but he carefully asks about it that night when they’re in their beds, and they talk a little about it

- Aang tells Katara (with permission) and she awkwardly, but wholeheartedly tells him that he can always talk to her

- they do that «awkward sibling hug» from Gravity Falls after

- *hugs stiffly* «pat, pat»

- but okay, Toph and metalbending when angry, it happens quite a lot

- this was the first time it was the fridge, but the toaster, the microwave, and several other appliances have met the same fate

- everyone is kinda used to it now, and she always replaces it

- except Zuko, who’s still kinda new to them all

- but what are you supposed to say when your new friends is so outraged by the abuse you went through that they crush a whole ass fridge?

- it actually reminds him that he’s cared for here, by these people who owe him nothing, and is not related to him, and it makes him a little dizzy to have people care this way

- he casually mentions it to his Uncle Iroh the time he’s in at work, that his new friend is a metalbender and squashed their whole fridge when she was pissed on his behalf

- Iroh is thrilled

- to the point of offering Toph a job lmao

- Toph, desperate to cut of as much ties with her family and be as self-sufficient as possible, agrees

- and now Iroh have two formerly rich kids with no clue about any sort of customer service and basic stuff like that working for him

- Toph is a hard worker tho, and she and Zuko work surprisingly well together

- Katara is a little relived, because the more those two work, the less are the chances of either of them trying to cook or do too many chores around their apartment

- they mean well, or, Zuko does, but he does so much dumb shit when trying to help lmao

- Sokka starts spending a lot of time over at The Jasmine Drago too

- Aang is still trying to keep the fact that Sokka likes Zuko a secret, but he is having trouble

- Katara is his biggest weakness, and now they’re suddenly alone with her a lot

- someone else who could always read Sokka really well is Suki

. whom he used date in high school, but they parted as friends and everything s cool

- but Sokka is a little taken aback when she comes into The Jasmine Dragon one day, hand in hand with Sokka’s childhood crush obsession, Yue

- for the first time in man’s memory, Sokka is a little speechless

- and Suki’s like “lmao dude I haven’t seen you like this since the first time you saw Zu-”

- cue Zuko popping out behind them like “WELCOME TO THE JASMINE DRAGON FRIENDS OF SOKKA :D”

- Sokka is so fucking red, poor boy is just about having an aneurism at this point

- but luckily something happens and Zuko gets distracted

- Suki is having the time of her life tho, Sokka always used to tease her for her crushes before and after they dated, and suddenly, here they are

- at the apartment, Aang decides they need some apartment traditions

- they’ve been living there for almost three months, after all

- so he decides that weekly movie nights are mandatory

- so are pillowforts

- Katara is actually really excited for it, she loves all things cozy and fall-like

- also… she is weak for Aang, y’all, and she loves seeing him all excited

- Zuko barely knows what a pillowfort is, he didn’t think real people actually made it

- but imagine these dorks in a pillowfort with hot chocolate and lot’s of pillows

- Toph claims that she thinks it’s soo dumb, but she will always make sit in the middle of the group all wrapped in her blanket and laughing when the others jump and get spooked from the horror movies Sokka always wants to watch

- and she will make sure the fort is right and perfect lmao

- Zuko is a little awkward about it at first, but he likes it too

- Sokka always manages to plop in next to Zuko lmao

- they haven’t talked about the head patting incident yet, but Zuko is def starting to feel the butterflies

- one time after a movie night Sokka falls asleep on Zuko’s shoulder, after the others have left for the night

- Zuko can’t resist waking him up with awkward head pats similar to the one Sokka used on him

- Sokka thinks he died and went to heaven lmao

- but then he fully wakes and sees Zuko’s shit eating grin and can’t help but laugh at the whole thing

- and Zuko has his “oh no he’s hot beautiful and I really adore him” moment

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mizunetzu · 4 years

Note

Hi! ;> maybe a tenya x male reader where the male is about to dye his hair after a breakdown and tenya is trying his hardest to stop male because he L O V E S his boyfriend’s hair. Thank you stay safe.

I been waiting to post this on his birthday !! Happy birthday tenya iida!

——————

Iida x reader - Hair Dye

⚠️ warnings - none !!

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

Green or blue? That was the hardest decision.

(Y/n) was crouching down, hunched over two boxes labeled “hair dye.”

“Mm, or maybe I should go pink...” The boy haphazardly dropped the green box in his hand to reach for the pink box. You could barely notice the dry, red tear stains on his cheeks from how concerned he was on deciding on a color.

Eventually, he settled for two boxes of dark purple hair dye. Just in case he didn’t have enough in one box, he bought two. Because really, he wasn’t about to let Bakugous stupid egotistical taunts get to his head.

Did he have a breakdown because Bakugou wiped the floor with his ass in training and called him a fag? Yes. Was he going to be a boss ass bitch and dye his hair to say ‘fuck you’ to him? Yes.

(Y/n) clutched his connivence store bag of dye harder. He’d honestly think he’d gone too long without messing with his hair, partially because UA seemed like this grand, professional school that took no shit. But after settling down for a few months in the hero course, he quickly changed his mind. Though, his hair could probably thank him for letting it grow out in its natural (h/c) color for a while.

He reached the dorm entrance and snuck in quietly. He may have quickly brushed off his tears to go buy dye, but his face had not yet adjusted from crying his eyes out. His eyes were puffy and red, and he had that fresh ‘I cried like a baby back bitch’ glow.

He unlocked the door to his room when he heard the familiar robotic footsteps pounding towards his room.

“(L/n)-kun! I am glad to see you ba-“ Iida stopped in his tracks when his eyes settled on the bag (y/n) was draping over his shoulder. If the bag had been any bigger, and he were wearing a red shirt, he’d look a bit like Santa Claus.

“...what did you buy, (L/n).” The use of no honorific was slightly unhinging. Iida deadpanned as (y/n) smiled guiltily.

“Hair dye?”

“HAIR-“ Iida made a jumbled noise of protest, incoherently swinging his arms in the air like a madman. Honestly, (y/n) was waiting for him to take someone the fuck out with those hands.

“(L/N)-KUN, HAIR DYE CA-CAN SEVERELY...SEVERELY DAMAGE YOUR-might I say beautiful-HAIR AND DRY IT OUT! I-IT IS ALSO SEEN AS UNPROFESSIONAL TO HAVE HAIR OF AN OUTLANDISH COLO-“

“Iida, honey,” (y/n) led the stressed out boy into his dorm room, Iida absentmindedly walking in. “Your hairs fucking blue.”

Iida broke into a cold sweat. “I-I mean yes, but-“

“Minas hair is pink-no, SHES fucking PINK.”

Iida stuttered and his hands halted like a broken record. “But-“

“Todoroki has SPLIT HAIR COLORS ON EACH SIDE OF HIS HEA-“

“STOP IT! STOP! NO MORE!” Iida fell to the ground in defeat, covering his poor ears with his stiff hands. (Y/n) crouched triumphantly infront of the cowering boy, taking a piece of his blue hair and twirling it between his fingers.

It was nice to see this big piece of beef defeated, below you. It was a guilty pleasure sight (y/n) would never admit to.

“Aw...you can help me dye it if you wa-“

“I-I do not wish to take part on murdering your beautiful hair...”

(Y/n) opened his mouth to say something, but let it fall close in a smirk. “You think my hair is pwetty?”

“Darling, I think you’re gorgeous. Please don’t kill your hair with that...” Iida glared the bag of purple hair dye like it murdered his family. “...cheap hair poison...”

(Y/n) chuckled and sat himself down next to Iida. “Well not everyone’s as rich as you, mr Iida tenya. Plus, i’d look good with purple hair, no?”

Iida looked like he was going to explode. “You could put on a skimpy hot dog costume and I’d still think you look good-but wrecking your hairs natural oils and moisture is not something I would like to condone!”

The two were both sitting down on the floor of (y/n’s) poorly decorated dorm room, Iida fishing out the purple box of ‘poison’ from its bag.

“Dear god, whats in this stuff?!” Iida cringed as his eyes did a once-over on the cheaply printed ingredients on the side. “Ammonia? Diaminobenzene?! You’re better off just shaving you head!”

(Y/n) whipped his head up. A drop of sweat rolled down Iidas temple.

“I-that was not a suggestion, (L/n)! Don’t get any ideas!”

“But iidaaaaa!” (y/n) flopped his head onto Iidas lap, curling up into a ball on the ground. “I’m sad, doing stuff to my hair makes me happy again.”

(Y/n) sniffed dramatically and stared up at his boyfriend with puppy eyes. Iida stiffened and hesitantly brought a finger to the bridge of his nose. It was silent for a moment until Iida sighed.

“...will dying my hair satisfy your odd ways of cheering yourself up?”

——————

The next day, Iida strut up to 1-A with hot pink hair. Iida wanted to fucking die.

He refused to use the purple bottle of toxicity sitting in (y/n’s) room, so they went to a rather expensive store, to buy natural bleach and dye.

(Y/n) begged him to use pink once his eyes landed on the flamboyant pink box, while Iida was choosing between two bleach boxes. He also bought a box of dark blue hair dye, similar to his own hair, for after his boyfriend was satisfied with his hair.

“Iida, what the actual fuck! Ahaha!” Kirishima clutched his stomach in a fit of giggles as Kaminari pulled out his phone. “Who would’ve thought me class prez would dye his hair!?”

“I-stop using your cellphone in class, Kaminari! (L/n)-kun was feeling very down yesterday...so I allowed him to dye my hair! T-that’s it!”

Kaminari and Kirishima laughed even harder. “Dude, you look like a flamingo!”

“Yeah, yeah he does.” (Y/n) walked up behind Iida and buried his fingers in his hair. “I’m surprised his hair isn’t fuckin dead after the bleach and dye though. You should’ve seen him right after the bleach. He looked like a buff, polite Bakugo.”

“PLEASE DO NOT COMPARE ME TO OUR OTHER CLASSMATES, (L/N)-KUN! E-ESPECIALLY ONE THAT IS RATHER...UNSIGHTLY...!”

Bakugous ears perked up, before he laid his head back down on his desk. It was too early for that shit.

------------

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calaofnoldor · 3 years

Text

Sixth Time’s the Charm [1]

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean, OCs

Words: 1,550

Series Summary: All the times Dean has tried to get Sam to admit his feelings for you.

Chapter Summary: Dean asks you to flirt with a cop for info. Sam is not pleased.

Warnings: jealous!sam, protective!sam, huffy!sam, badass!reader, exasperated squirrel, mutual pining, idiots in love, tropesss

A/N: this is part one of a six-part mini series that is essentially an amalgamation of all the jealous/protective tropes. sorry not sorry?

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

The first time was an impromptu experiment. Of course, Dean already knew Sam had a crush on you; he raised the kid for crying out loud. That and the way Sam had stumbled over his own tongue and feet the first time they encountered you (and nearly every time thereafter) made it quite obvious to everyone… well, except you, apparently. Regardless, Dean figured it was just the case of a simple crush and poor Sammy being unable to match his finesse with the ladies.

So when the three of you came across a sleazy police captain, who was in no way shy about having the hots for you, during a rugaru hunt in Nebraska, Dean was rather taken aback by his brother’s unusual reaction.

Strolling into the Omaha police department with you and Sam on either side, the older Winchester had identified the captain immediately from his picture online.

“Captain Anderson,” Dean addressed the man directly in a low, authoritative tone, “I’m Agent Parker, and these are my partners Agents Stan and Lee.” He motioned to his right and left side as he introduced you, accordingly, pausing as you flashed your fake badges in unison.

The captain was a tall, slightly rotund fellow, with a mustache to rival an 80’s porn star’s, and he scoffed haughtily at your entrance. “What the hell do the feds want with us? And did they really hafta send three of ya?” He gestured pointedly at you with a patronizing raise of his chin and your blood began to boil at the implicitly misogynistic remark.

“Well no offense, Captain,” you spoke up; your FBI get-up always gave you an extra boost of confidence (something about the power suit vibes you supposed), plus men like him really pissed you off, “but there have been five deaths here within the last week, and from what I understand, your team has a grand total of zero working theories and just as many leads, so perhaps you can understand why the government would show some concern.”

“Mm, mm, mm!” Captain Anderson chanted obnoxiously in response. He gave you a painfully slow once-over, eyes filled with a crude and unrestrained lechery that forced a shiver down your spine. “A woman who knows how to take charge… I like that,” he licked his lips lasciviously.

Dean was torn between awaiting your likely ruthless and epic comeback or telling the douchebag off himself when he heard Sam clear his throat forcedly beside him. Looking over, he was surprised to find his giant of a little brother to be a picture of rage. Strained jaw, clenched fists, distended chest, and a murderous glare directed unwaveringly at the Omaha police captain.

Meanwhile, you were finding it difficult to resist the urge to roll your eyes and repress your temper to maintain a professional front. “We need information and clearance,” you stated firmly, ignoring the cop’s inappropriate and debaucherous display, “Are you going to hand it over or not?”

“Sorry little miss, no can do! You’re prolly gonna hafta talk to the chief if you want in on a big boy case like this one… but, you know, I can think of some ways you might be able to convince me otherwise,” he finished with a lewd wink before taking off.

Sam looked like he was about to lunge at the captain, but Dean put a hand on his arm to ground him. He was starting to suspect Sam’s behavior might have more to do with you than the fact that the captain was a regular dickhead. After all, Sam was usually the calmer and more rational of the brothers, especially during hunts.

You were too busy holding yourself back to notice though, staring daggers into Anderson’s back as you watched him walk away.

“What an asshole. I’m sorry, Y/N,” Dean began. An idea was forming in his head, one that could help him test his theory. “Look, you know I wouldn’t ask this if there was a better way, but dyou think, maybe, just this once, you could… you know? Turn on the charm a bit? Just so we can get in?”

Sam had not been fully engaged in the conversation until just then, too focused on trying to mollify the inexplicable rage that Captain Anderson had incited within him, but Dean’s request certainly caught his attention.

“What?! Dean! You can’t be serious. No. We’ll find another way. Just- No.” Sam’s voice was harder and deeper than usual and for a moment you lost yourself in it, daydreaming that perhaps he was exhibiting a sense of jealously. But who were you kidding? Sam was just a nice guy who detested sexist pricks like Anderson; this had nothing to do with you.

“No, it’s fine. Dean’s right. This is the easiest way. I’ll do it,” you stated quietly before adding with a small smile, “I can suck it up on account of saving some lives.”

Dean grinned and you walked away before Sam could protest any further. When you reached the captain’s office, you didn’t bother knocking on the open door, “Alright, Captain Anderson-“

“Please, call me Frank.” He looked up at you with such a smug and revolting expression, you decided there was no way you could follow through with Dean’s plan.

“Listen, Frank,” you crossed your arms in what you hoped was an ‘I mean business’ stance, but quickly dropped them when you realized the action had unwittingly highlighted your cleavage in the button-down blouse you were wearing and spurred yet another round of gratuitous leering from Frank. “What’s it gonna take for you to hand over the case files and grant us full access to the evidence and crime scenes?”

“Well, since I like you, I’ll make it easy for ya. How about we start with a smile?” He had leaned forward in his seated position behind his desk as he spoke, and you almost smacked him right then.

As you turned to leave, however, it was Anderson who smacked you, open palmed and right on the ass. You forced yourself to take a deep breath before slowly turning back around. Keeping your movements deliberate and unhurried, you bent over his desk, ignoring the impulse to gag at the greasy, utterly unholy scent that filled your nostrils as you got close enough to whisper in his ear, “You know what, I’ll make it easy for you too. How about, if you give my partners and I complete authorization on this case, I won’t report you to the feds for sexual harassment? See, I know people in the upper ranks and I’ve got a lawyer who wipes the floor with guys like you on the daily.” It was all lies, of course, but you figured it was for a good cause.

“So what’s it gonna be, Captain?” You asked after straightening yourself back up.

As you’d hoped, the bastard was looking a little worse for wear, though you could tell he was trying to retain what little he could of his arrogant persona. “You little bitch.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Fine. You can have it,” he pointed at a stack of file folders on his desk, and then sighed as he produced three security passes, “Go crazy! Go fuck yourself.”

“Gladly,” you sassed, ready to strut out of there with everything you came for in hand.

Behind you, things had not gone so smoothly. When Sam saw Anderson slapping your butt, he was fully prepared to march over and break the captain’s nose, but Dean again held him back, “Woah, hey, you know Y/N can handle herself. What’s up with you?”

Then when he was forced to watch you lean in tantalizingly close and whisper something in Anderson’s ear, Sam experienced an entirely foreign sensation. He was still burning with fury, but that anger was joined by a peculiar ache. His heart had risen to his throat as he stood there, completely transfixed, a look of dejection and longing written across his face.

‘Huh,’ Dean had thought with an internal smirk, ‘Sammy’s got it ba-ad!’ he sing-song-ed in his own head, storing the information away for later, when he could find an opportune moment to tease his baby brother about it.

For now, Dean gave you two thumbs up as he watched you return with a triumphant grin, holding up three official passes by their lanyards.

“Got it all. We’re completely in,” you supplied each brother a security pass when you reached them.

“Damn. You are good, woman! What did you even say to him?” Dean chuckled as the three of you left the station.

“Oh nothing, just a bit of light threatening.”

Sam stopped to look at you quizzically. “Wait, what? You mean you didn’t- you weren’t… flirting with him?”

“Nah, I was too appalled by the thought to go down that route.”

“Oh,” he huffed out, looking down with drooped shoulders and an awkward twitch of a smile. You could have sworn he looked somewhat relieved, but decided not to read too much into it, too pleased with yourself to allow the ever-growing gloom of your unrequited love dampen your spirits.

The whole time Dean was staring back at the two of you in disbelief. ‘These goddamn idiots,’ he thought with an exasperated yet slightly amused shake of his head.

→ CARRY ON

thanks so much for reading! feedback always appreciated 💞

#sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #sam winchester x female!reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #protective!sam #jealous!sam #huffy!sam #sam winchester fluff #spn #supernatural #fanfic #fanfiction #mini series #sttc #my writing #text

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yamithediaperdork · 3 years

Text

Baby bird and Super daddy (DC)

it was Friday afternoon and school was out which only meant one thing for a group of young sidekicks: it was time to haul their butts to San Francisco and more to the point to Titans tower.

Oddly though one member of the titans wasn't getting his normal ride from Gotham to the tower with his mentor Batman, AKA Bruce Wayne but inside had been picked up in Smallvile by his surrogate big brother Nightwing who was also giving a ride to Kon-el, AKA Superboy.

Sulking and pouting in his costume, Robin AKA Tim drake was blushing and his bottom looked a little more puffy then normal, but only a expert would know to look and see it.. so Naturally Dick had.

"So I'm not one to judge, I mean, I've know you and Kon where hooking up for awhile." Dick said, smirking and while he kept a eye on the controls of his aircraft, he made sure to steal looks back at the blushing big time Tim who had been tugged into Kon's lap. And of course Kon was smirking.

"but I just need to know, Is my little brother from anther mother in huggies because you two are kinky, or Kon needs to stop topping for awhile?"

"DICK!" Tim shrieked and whined, burying his face in Kon's shoulder and whining.

"He tried to make me his little guy, needless to say it backfired." Kon chuckled, and rubbed Tim's back and patted the boys bottom, a faint crinkling being heard only by Kon due to his super hearing over the dim of the plane.

"Oh, I HAVE to hear more..but before that.. I think I have a juice box or two if the little guy is thirsty." Dick offered.

"Dickkkkkk!" Tim whined and pouted, shooting daggers though his mask.

"Well he is a thirsty bitch, but he had a big ba-ba of fresh milk before we left." Kon chuckled.

"Hate you both." Tim whined and tried to squirm out of Kon's lap, but he was a boy of tissue in a boy of steel's grip, and wasn't going anywhere.

As Dick chuckled, Kon reached into Tim's belt and pulled out a superman logo pacifier and popped it in the boy wonders mouth and rocked him, and in seconds Tim had gone night night and Kon was free to tell the story.

Tim had pleaded and begged to hang out with Kon-el for the two days he had off from school back in Gotham (the staff was recovering from the latest attack by a bat rouge, Riddler this time.)

Bruce had tried to say the time could be used to help out with Gotham but after getting Alfred on his side it had only taken anther half hour before Bruce was dropping Tim off by the Kent farm, commenting on how much extra baggage he had taken with him for just going there for Thursday and Friday (Tim had spare clothes at titans tower)

Tim had come up with a excuse that he might help on the farm and didn't wanna end up smelling like cow dropping and Bruce had let it go.

Superboy of course who's X-ray vision was coming and going at this point had been able to spot right away was was in the extra luggage and just smirked to himself.

The Kent's of course knew without being told that Tim and Kon were dating, Connor just wouldn't shut up about him and they were practically all over each other calling it rough housing.

"If that's what you kids these days call it. Take it out to the barn." Was all Pa said, not looking up from his newspaper.

Once out in the barn, Tim went right to work turning on the puppy dog eyes and kissing Kon's neck and blowing in his ear, things that drove the boy of steel wild.

"Koooon, I have a hawt idea we should try out." Tim said in his 'I'm so cute you can't refuse me' voice which normally had Kon wrapped around Tim's little finger.

However forewarned Kon was ready and kept his control in place, though asked what Tim wanted to try out.

"Well have you ever heard of diaper punishment or age play?" Tim had asked, opening the luggage and holding up a teen sized diaper with little bat symbols on it and holding it out, grinning ear to ear.

Kon however, returned that grin with his own and played along, though not like Tim had expected.

"oh I see, You wanna be my little baby bird! Cute! and you even got bat diapers! Adorable!" Kon gushed as Tim's jaw dropped.

"W-What? No! I-" Tim started, blushing bright red.

"Ohhh I've heard of this, you're gonna act like you don't want it so you can be a pouty little boy while enjoying your diapie wipies~" Kon chuckled, dashing up and snatching the diaper from the smaller boys hands and planting a smooch on him, tongue dominating Tim's mouth and feeling the fight go out of Tim for a second.

he also felt the boy wonder less then wonderful hard on press against his leg and broke off the kiss.

"well I think that answers whether or not you want daddy Kon to make you a good little baby bird." Kon said.

"I what.. No! I was gonna.. you were gonna.." Tim whined, flustered and trying to will away his hard-on, but but there was no amount of zen training with Batman that was going to make the boy wonder's stiffie vanish.

"Oh look, you have a paddle, and some baby outfits.. paci's and ba-ba's..Damn you must REALLY wanna just be a helpless little diaper dork huh sweetie?" Kon was saying, looking though all the supplies tat had been meant for him and super warming up to the idea of babying Tim.

There was even a pair of jean overalls with crotch snaps so a certain diaper boy could work on the farm!

"and look at all these diapers! Somebody plans on making LOTS of presents for his super daddy huh?" Kon added.

"NO I DO NOT! THAT WAS ALL MEANT FOR YOU!" Tim whined and stomped a foot, hands balled in fists and at his sides.

Sadly, this did nothing to help his argument.

"Baby bird, that's enough of the attuide. You need to take off your big boy clothes and lay down so I can get you in a diapie or else mister man." Kon said, smirking but trying to have a authoritative tone, picking up the paddle.

"YOU DON'T HAVE THE BALLS!" Tim yelled.

Sadly as it turned out for Tim's poor soon to be bright red backside, Kon had the balls and more.

On a scale of 1 to 10, Kon guessed the effort he had put into the spanking (and being nice enough not to use the paddle too!) was about a 3 or 4, but from the howls and sobs that had escaped the soon to be pampered sidekick, you'd of sworn he had gone all out.

'Man, either full on humans are more fragile then I thought, or Tim just can't take a spanking!' Kon mused as he cleaned up the puddle that the boy wonder had made during his ten swats, and let's just say it wasn't urine. 'Though for someone who's sobbing so much with his nose in the corner..'

"Baby bird, you're gonna wake up half of Smallville with that sobbing, I'm gonna need you to tone it down or I'll have to get creative with gagging you." Kon called over sweetly.

Tim, with pants gone and butt glowing bright red from the spanking and having his hands on the back of his head turned around from the corner and moved his mouth as if to argue, then apparently thought better of it and meekly nodded his head.

"I-I'll try.." Robin sniffled and whined, any trace of him trying to be dom had left his body when he'd creamed himself from being spanked.

"I could give you one of your paci's, but you have to promise to be a very good boy and not spit it out, I'll just pop it back into your mouth anyways." Kon offered.

Looking around the dirty floor of the barn, Tim made a icky face and nodded he could be good and opened his mouth for the customed Superman paci, with the large oversized rubber nipple making Tim start to drool down his chin in seconds.

"it's too bag you didn't pack a enema kit, I bet you have the CUTEST 'i'm pooping!' face baby bird!" Kon commented, having laid most of the items out on his bed and chuckling at the whimper that escaped from Tim.

"Shucks, and Pa and ma Kent kicked us out to the barn for the night.. I know ma has a nice big one. Ah well, there's always tomorrow." Kon chuckled and shrugged.

Tim gave a series of muffled protests around the paci turning a little pale at the thought of getting a massive soapy enema while Kon and the Kent had breakfast, though it was also making him get a little excited.

"Hmmm? Oh I see someone likes the idea~ thats great! I'm sure Ma and Pa won't mind having a baby around the house." Kon laughed.

Tim whined and wanted to argue, wanted to take out the paci and say no way in hell,m but his body betrayed him again and he made anther puddle instead.

"Sheesh, You must be backed up like crazy.. Better get you pampered before you paint the walls."

"Wait, did he really cream himself again just from-" Nightwing asked, snickering and glad he'd switched to auto pilot for this.

"NO I didn't!" Tim whined and huffed, squirming in his seat.

"Baby bird, what did I tell you about telling fibs?" Kon warned wagging a finger at the smaller boy.

"...OK maybe I did.. But it's not my fault! you know how hard it is to crank one out at the mansion since Alfred doesn't approve!!" Tim whined and sulked,

"Actually back in my day Alfred just left me tissues and Lotion and a note asking I keep my voice down." Dick chuckled, though he blushed a little as he recalled it.

"That's SO unfair!!" Tim whined and huffed.

"Don't worry about it baby bird. now that you'll be my little guy at least once a week I'll make sure you're never backed up again." Kon teased and kissed Tim's forehead.

"My hero.." Tim huffed. "Just finish the poopie story."

To say the Kent's were a little shocked the next morning when A clearly diapered Tim was lead over, sucking on a paci and dressed to go to work in the field would of been a understatement, but as the human couple that had raised Superman from babyhood to adult, Had been the home of Matrix while she was still adjusting to life on this earth and were now looking after Kon,,they got over the shock rather quickly.

If anything, Kon had called it and Ma Kent dotted on baby Tim right away, though to Kon's disappointment (and maybe Tim's) she turned down the idea of giving Tim a enema for fun.

"Those are just in case the widdle cutie is all backed up!" she scolded Kon, who pouted a little but backed down.

Breakfast was egg's and bacon for the Kent's and Kon, and a bowl of oatmeal for widdle Timmy who (thankfully!) was too big to fit in Kal's old highchair, but they did have a booster seat he was put into and had one of Kal's old bibs tied around his neck.

"You know, after we get the farm work done, we could go into the wood shop and likely make him a high chair." Pa mused.

"W-What?" Tim asked, his spoon dropping into the bland icky oatmeal.

"Oh, get idea pa! Think we could make him a crib too?" Kon asked, grinning ear to ear.

"I don't see why not. Just a shame Most of Clark's old stuffies didn't make it." Pa chuckled.

"heh, I can help with that. I've been making teddy bears for the church to sell so I think I could make our new widdle great grandson one or two. Do you want a teddy bear Timmy?" Ma asked and reached over, using the bib to wipe a spot of oatmeal off of Tim's face.

"I...I..I.." Tim whimpered and squirmed like crazy in the high chair, suddenly thankful that Kon was the only one with hearing good enough to heard what he was doing to the front of his diapers, though Kon just smirked.

"Trust me Ma, he does."

19 notes · View notes

jubilantwriter · 3 years

Text

It All Began with a Big Crash

(AO3)

Summary: It's the one year anniversary of Boyfriend and Girlfriend's growing relationship, and Boyfriend absolutely, totally, DID NOT forget that today is that special day. And yet, that one single DID NOT FORGETTing leads to a domino effect, resulting in quite possibly one of the best nights of their lives.

After all, what's the point of a performance if no one's having fun during it?

Word Count: 7154

(A/N: Happy 1st Anniversary of Friday Night Funkin’! I literally wrote and edited this all in one day. Got home at midnight, started writing, and then I posted it at 10 am, took a nap, went to work, AND NOW I’M HERE ON TUMBLR :D Anyway, FNF has been a big comfort for me these past months, so it’s only fitting that I put myself through hell to get this little bit out. I hope you all enjoy!)

\\\\

Now, Boyfriend isn't a forgetful man. This thought crosses his mind as he stands up abruptly after paying for his lunch and racing for the door.

"Be-!"

"Eep!"

CRASH .

But sometimes things... slip from his mind, and while he's not one prone to panic, THIS is something worth panicking over.

"-EP. SHIT. SORRY!"

"My dishes!" A blonde server kneels on the ground, surrounded by the clumsy carnage created by Boyfriend inadvertently crashing into her on his rush out. She glares accusingly at him as the boy jogs in place. "Again, really?!"

"Sorry, sorry!" He waves his hands in front of him before looking over his shoulder. "I'll pay for the dishes and shit uh, later!" He dashes out the door as she calls out behind him.

"That's what you said LAST time!"

Well, last time he was dirt poor, but now that he's pretty famous around town, he's actually got the moolah to pay for damages! So yeah, next time!

...Is what he meant to tell her, but he's already busting into the conveniently placed flower shop, panting as he looks around wildly for help. The florist in question glances at him completely unbothered by his entrance.

"Forgot an important date again?" she quips, staring back down at her phone as she drapes herself over the counter.

"BAP!" he says defensively, because he DIDN'T forget! It just... slipped his mind a little. In his defense, he'd gotten so used to being with Girlfriend that it felt ... normal! Like they've been together for YEARS and being with her just felt so right, and every day was the greatest day of his life because he had her by his side. So yeah, maybe the days slipped past him in a blissful sort of way, like when he gets super focused on his music or some arbitrary task, and the hours slip by and suddenly it's the next morning! It's kind of like that, but with a girl who makes him smile and laugh and forget that life is supposed to be difficult and hard, and not fun and invigorating. And to think they've only been together for a year...

...A year.

...Wait.

Shit.

SHIT.

He's doing it again!

He bustles over and slaps a fifty on the counter. "Bop!" he announces in a rush, tapping his fingers impatiently as the florist holds it up to the light.

With a low whistle, she puts it back on the table. "Wow, you're really going all out this time, huh?" Before Boyfriend can respond to her sarcasm, the florist calls out to her partner in the back. "Flower! Miku's lil bro is back at it again, dropping a fifty and hoping for the best."

"Again?" A husky voice makes its way over as a familiar bush of thick hair pops out from beyond the doorway. "Boyfriend, you should know by now that apology bouquets are at least a hundred."

"Ba- skida- AUGH! It's not an apology bouquet!" He stomps his foot, irritated to break out the English but knowing full well it’s a matter that needs clear communication. So not really a waste of words, just a waste of energy on two ladies who will give him shit regardless of the noise he makes.

"Oh yeah? What's the occasion?" The taller florist - Lily, hilariously enough - leans forward with a smirk as Flower keeps her deadpan stare.

"It's for my anniversary!" He crosses his arms and harrumphs as Lily whistles again.

"Damn, and you didn't invite us to the wedding? Harsh."

"No, not that-! Ugh, you know what I mean."

"Do we?" Lily and Flower exchange a look before Lily's smirk widens. "I dunno, you don't give us the dirt anymore. Remember when you'd come in here all the time, red in the face trying to get apology bouquets for that one boy? What's his name-"

"Pico," he answers, a bit flustered as the memories rush through his mind before shaking his head, "and he liked them all, by the way! But this isn't about him-"

"No, it's about your new girl, right?" Flower cuts in, leaning against the doorway with a bored expression. "What's her favorite color? It's not green, is it?"

"It's red, and please can you make it quick? I dunno when she wants us to meet up, so...!" He flashes them two thumbs up and is about to bounce, but Lily grabs the collar of his shirt with a chuckle.

"Not so fast, dumbass." She pulls him back to the counter as he whines pathetically. "You really think a fifty is enough for an anniversary bouquet?"

Oh no. He starts to sweat, feeling his wallet tremble in fear. They're doing it again. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean, Flower?" Lily turns back to the shorter florist as the other makes a thoughtful hum.

"One hundred, at least."

"Yeah, at least one hundo." Lily holds her hand out. "C'mon, cough it up, shorty."

This is beyond unreal, but at the same time, it is completely expected from people who teased him relentlessly since he was a kid. "If it wasn't for Miku, you guys wouldn't even be here!"

"We're only here because of convenience, please." Lily snorts as the boy continues to struggle. "So you aiming for an apology bouquet or an anniversary bouquet?"

"Just cut me a deal, please? For old time's sake?" He clasps his hands together and bats his eyelashes. "I'm still that cute little kid who used to pretend to be like Miku! Who could forget good ol' Mikuo?"

"One hundred." Flower cuts off the potential reminiscing and steps up to the counter. "Or it's an apology bouquet."

Grumbling miserably, Boyfriend digs around in his pocket and manages to snag something. He pulls out his hand and counts out four quarters. Quietly, he puts it on top of the fifty.

Flower and Lily both look at it silently.

"...Well," Flower begins, slowly taking the money, "I did say one hundred."

Roll with it roll with it roll with it-

"Yeah, and uh, four twenty-fives makes one hundred, right?"

"What, are we speaking French now?" Lily asks with a sneer.

"No," Boyfriend begins, blinking slowly, "pretty sure we're speaking English."

"Oh my god." She slaps her hand over Flower's. "We are not doing this."

"I gave you one hundred," he argues, sweating miserably as he turns up the confidence.

"He did give us one hundred," Flower agrees.

"You are not giving this to him. You know he didn't even plan this! He's too stupid to pull a slick move like that!"

Boyfriend just smiles and gives them a double thumbs up.

"It's not like anyone else is gonna be coming in to give us another job." Flower hums and stows the money in the register, much to Lily's chagrin. "And besides, if I get bored making it, I'll just take a nap."

"Flower-!" Before Lily can protest even more, Flower disappears into the backroom, no doubt to either work on the bouquet or take that nap. Lily turns back to Boyfriend and glares, jabbing a finger against his chest. "Be back here in a few hours. You're taking whatever the hell she makes for you, stingy little bitch."

"That's all I have on my person!"

"We accept credit and debit."

"I have bills to pay."

"You're such a little-!" Lily makes a strangling gesture with her hands before grabbing and shaking him. "You better give this girl a helluva anniversary."

"I'm trying!" He backs up and shoots the tall florist finger guns before vacating the premises. Okay, one thing down. Next: chocolates. Easy-peasy. What place sells heart-shaped boxes of chocolates and other cutesy, anniversary items?

Boyfriend makes a beeline for the local grocery store and spends only a total of thirty minutes there, making the proud purchase of a box of chocolates, a little teddy bear holding a heart, and even a balloon that says, "I Love You". Score! Damn, he's doing great so far. And it was such a quick purchase! Maybe Miku's friends could learn a thing or two about making quick sales instead of harassing him over every little thing.

What's next, what's next...

A place for dinner, right! Girlfriend loves the local bar. Great food, a nice atmosphere, open mic nights, a server who's familiar with them...

A server that he crashed into and made her drop all those dishes to the floor... like that other time he did it to her and held up the service for a sizable amount of time...

He gulps. Hm. She's probably still mad at him too. But uh, huh. He's not sure what to do. Maybe, maybe...

He takes out his phone and dials a familiar number. It rings only twice before a gruff, annoyed voice answers on the other side.

"I'm busy, the fuck you want?"

Without missing a beat, he gets on his metaphorical hands and knees. "Pico, can I ask a favor, please please pretty please?"

"Wow, English. Must be desperate." There's a loud crash on his end before Pico's voice yells at a pair of playful, young laughter. "Hey- hey! Watch it!"

"Pico, so uh, could you-?"

"Hey- give me that!" More raucous laughter fills the line as Pico sighs. "Sorry, Bee, don't think I can help ya today. I was supposed to just watch these two kids 'til Lila came back, but then I got a call from a pal who needs help at her joint and- Skid, Jesus fucking Christ -" There's some shuffling and a grunt as a playful squeal rings a little too close to the phone. Pico continues as though nothing happened on his end. "-and so basically I'm double booked for the night."

"Oh, okay." He tries not to let the disappointment seep into his voice, but another sigh from Pico suggests that he heard it regardless.

"Look, I'm real sorry, wish I could help, but a line's formin' and I can only do so much." Pico grunts and a soft thump is heard. Two voices chatter away distantly in the background, but Boyfriend focuses solely on Pico. "Why? What happened?"

"Well, today's me and Girlfriend's anniversary, and I wanted to take her out but-"

"Can't figure out a place to take her? C'mon man, you- Jesus, you two, slow down, I'm comin'- you already know one."

"Yeah, the bar but-"

"What, ya worried about 'bout lines or somethin'? I know it's busy and shit, but I'm sure Serv will get ya guys' a table easy. It's just you two, you'll be fine."

"Okay, but-"

"Oh my GOD, what the HELL is THAT?!"

A faint, childish voice answers Pico's horrified question as Boyfriend listens in. "That's Moloch!"

"...MOLOCH?"

A roar sounds from Pico's side of the phone call. The voice - uh, Skid, was it? - laughs excitedly. "Yeah! He's our friend!"

"He lives in Skid's attic!"

A demonic voice nearly blows out Boyfriend's eardrums. "GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

"...Does your MOM know about this?!"

"Sorta! She thinks he's a rat."

"Hey hey HEY, back OFF-! Sorry, Bee, I'll call ya later!"

The last thing he hears is another roar before the line hangs up. Pico will probably be fine - he's handled worse after all, and even Boyfriend's faced off a demon or two! Maybe three, if that Lemon Man those two kids were friends with counted as well. Man, demons are just everywhere, huh?

...Speaking of demons. There’s one demon he really should be focusing on. Like getting their dinner date set up at her favorite bar in town. Even though he’s probably on that bar’s shitlist for knocking over their number one employee again .

But Girlfriend really does love going to that bar, and if it's for her... Fuck it, he'll suck it up and take whatever Server-chan's got against him. He'll just challenge her to a quick rap battle, win, and THEN they can have a nice dinner! Yeah, that's what he'll do. Lily's words replay in his mind as he walks off to his apartment to change into something nicer.

"You better give this girl a helluva anniversary."

Fuck yeah he will.

"Damn, after all these years, you still can't tie a tie." Lily frets over his outfit as she helps him tidy up a bit. A colorful ribbon now decorates the box of chocolates, tying it together with the teddy bear with the balloon also tied around its wrist. He grabs the tied together present after she rolls his sleeves up to his elbow.

"Bouquet?" he asks hopefully as Lily dusts off his shoulders for the hundredth time.

She huffs and shakes her head, blowing a stray hair out of her face. "You're lucky Flower didn't take a nap halfway through. It's her best work so far! All for the low, low cost of $51, tax not included."

"There's tax?!" He almost falls over, but Lily grabs him by the collar of his dress shirt.

"Chill out, we'll charge it to Miku's account."

"Oh, thanks." He swats away her hands when she tries to tuck in the other half of his shirt. "Fuck off, it's part of my style!"

"What, being sloppy?"

"The ladies love it."

"Your lady deserves better."

"But I'm the best there is!"

"Oh, God," Lily groans as her expression falls into despair. "Egotism really does run in the family."

"Enough about the family ego," Flower pipes up, her hands full with a large, beautiful bouquet. "These flowers need to be appreciated."

"Holy shit." Boyfriend takes the entire bouquet, admiring the reds, pinks, and whites. There's a smattering of small, lavender flowers here and there, making the other colors pop. "Roses!" he points out, the only flower he recognizes.

"Yup, and there's also lilies, alstroemeria, and-"

"Don't waste your breath," Lily cuts in, covering Flower's mouth before she can list them all out. "He won't remember any of the names."

A disappointed sigh escapes Flower, so he gives her the biggest grin he can muster. "Yo, I still think it's hella bomb to look at. I really think she'll love it!"

Flower perks up a bit, a small smile forming on her usually stoic face. "...Cool."

"Alright, get outta here." Lily shoves him back to the door with a grin. "You got a hot date, yeah? Go give her the night of her life!"

"Yeah!" He waves to the pair before leaving. "Gonna have a great night at the bar!"

Lily's smile falters as Flower's smile immediately disappears. "...The what?"

"See ya!"

"Wait, Boyfriend! You're taking her out to the fucking BAR?!"

He doesn't have the time to turn back and answer Lily, so he goes along his merry way, bouquet clutched tightly against his chest with the bear. Hopefully the incident from earlier today has been swept away. He really doesn't want to have a rap battle with Server-chan, but if he has to...

"Boyfriend!" A sweet, melodic voice pulls him from his thoughts as he looks over to see his beautiful, wonderful Girlfriend. Her iconic look now sports a sleek, black jacket reminiscent of her mother's own jacket. It looks stunning on her, and a soft, longing "beep" escapes him as she giggles and kisses his cheek. "Hey, hun. Happy anniversary!"

"Happy anniversary!" He holds out his gifts for her to take, and he delights in her unabashed joy as she takes them.

"Oh! This teddy bear is so cute, and these flowers are lovely!" Another giggle escapes her as she points at the bouquet. "Roses!"

"That's what I said!" They both share a laugh before her smile settles into something soft and relaxed.

"Now I wish I got you something too..." Girlfriend pouts a bit, but he kisses it away with a grin.

"Hey, don't sweat it! Lemme spoil you for the night instead." He offers her his arm, and she happily loops hers with his. They walk into the bar together and are met with a familiar face standing behind a podium. Despite being the hostess, Cassette Girl keeps her iconic cap on as she notices them and greets them with a lazy smile.

"Wooow," she drawls out, giving Boyfriend a knowing grin. "Back again so soon? And after that huge fuss you made."

"Fuss?" Girlfriend gives Boyfriend a curious look.

"Uhh, beep bah."

"Didn't tell her about your mishap, huh?" Cassette Girl raises an eyebrow and shakes her head. "Well, if you wanted to know, Serv got it figured out. Called in a favor last minute, and luckily he was nice enough to help out."

"Sorry about that," he says sheepishly, and Cassette Girl merely shrugs.

"It's whatever. Not the first time you messed her up real good. And besides, you're not even the first person to make her crash and burn for a hot minute."

"Is this still about the fuss you guys are talking about?" Girlfriend looks between the two as Cassette Girl chuckles.

"Yeah, but don't worry about it. Lemme take ya to your seats. Bar or nah?"

"Nah, it's our anniversary date today!"

"And you guys are spending it here?” She pauses for a second in thought before shaking her head. “Alright." Cassette Girl takes it in stride and seats them near the miniature stage.

"Oh, is it open mic night tonight?" Girlfriend sits down, already excited for the night as Cassette Girl chuckles and hands them the menus.

"Nah, originally we had a band booked tonight, but their back-up vocalist got injured, so they called it off last minute. It's gonna be a quiet night instead."

"Aww." The pout on Girlfriend's face lasts only a second before her smile returns. "Oh well! Sometimes quiet is nice too."

"Right you are. Anyway, your waiter will be with you guys in just a sec, so take your time. We're not too busy tonight, so feel free to cause more havoc." She flashes a grin before walking back to her station.

Girlfriend waves goodbye and turns back to Boyfriend with a smile. "Cassey is so nice! I wish we could talk to her more."

"Maybe we'll catch her on the street one of these days." He cracks open the menu, perusing the contents before deciding on getting his usual.

"Maybe! Should I try something new tonight?"

"Wouldn't hurt."

"But I don't know what to get..."

"Maybe we can ask the waiter?" He looks around for their supposed waiter, but all he sees is an unimpressed Pico standing at their table. "Oh! Pico! You're dressed like a waiter!"

True to his observations, Pico is dressed similarly to Server-chan; a black long sleeved shirt replaces his usual green sweater, and a pair of black slacks replaces his usual beige cargo pants. The only splash of color on his outfit is the bright orange apron that all servers seem to wear as per uniform, and it absolutely clashes with Pico's own bright, red hair.

"That's because I am the waiter, dumbass." The bite from his remark is lost from the tired slump of his shoulders, and the ginger begins to resemble Server-chan with each passing second. "At least for tonight. She called me in for a favor, and I agreed to help."

The conversation from earlier today pings in Boyfriend's memory. "Is this what you meant when you said you were double booked?"

"Yeah. Told me some blue-haired douchebag steamrolled her on his way out, and she ended up breaking a whole buncha dishes. She went out to go replace the whole set, so I'm coverin' for the rest of her shift while she takes care of it. Now that I think about it," Pico fixes him with a stern, knowing glare as Boyfriend shrinks under his sharp eyes, "I kinda already know about a certain blue-haired douchebag."

"I'll pay her back, I promise."

"You fuckin' better." Pico looks over to Girlfriend and offers her a tired grin when she waves cheerfully. "Hey, Red, he treatin' ya well tonight?"

"Yup! He got me chocolates, a bear, a balloon, AND a bouquet!"

"Really spoilin' ya there."

"Only the best for Gigi, right?" He nudges Pico playfully, the earlier irritation already melting away from his expression as he rolls his eyes and ruffles Boyfriend's hair.

"Yeah yeah. Ya guys ready to order?"

Pico takes their orders and departs quickly, the couple watching him disappear somewhere in the bar as their collective thoughts gather on one thing only.

"Mm, Pico should wear uniforms more often, huh?"

"It definitely looks flattering on him." They both hum before taking sips from the water Pico had set down earlier while taking their orders. With no ginger to distract them, Girlfriend's attention centers back on Boyfriend as she smiles. "Thanks for taking me out here for dinner! I know it's not easy for us to go out on dates since my parents still hover, so I'm really happy that we went out like you planned!"

"Oh yeah, totally." His easy grin hides the absolute panic he had for the entire half of his day when he realized he had nothing planned. "I wish I could treat you out for something better, but nothing else is really happening around this time of year-"

"Except for Spooky Month!" Two voices pipe up out of nowhere as the costumed duo surprise the couple.

"Oh, goodness, hello!" She laughs as Skid and, uh, Pump? Stand by their table looking curious. "How have you two been?"

"Okay! Mr. Pico has been babysitting us since Mom's been busy with her work stuff." Skid bounces on his heels as Pump looks up more calmly. "We wanted to introduce him to Moloch, but..."

"He didn't like him too much. He said Moloch is more scary than spooky." Pump sticks his tongue out and laughs. "Silly Mr. Pico! He does not understand that Moloch is our friend!"

"Moloch?" Girlfriend hums as bobs her head in thought. "That name sounds familiar. There was a demon that went missing months ago by that name..."

"Oh, weird!"

"Moloch came to us months ago too! But now he stays in Skid's attic."

"It's like a sleepover every day!"

"That sounds like fun!" She giggles as the kids bounce around her.

Boyfriend watches with a smile before remembering that “double booked” thing that Pico mentioned earlier. Were these the kids he was watching when Boyfriend called…? "So why are you guys here? If Pico is supposed to be babysitting you guys, but is working here instead..." Boyfriend wonders how Pico manages to balance so many jobs at once. He himself can barely handle the one!

"Mr. Pico said that he didn't trust Moloch and wanted us to stay somewhere safer."

"Which is weird, because Moloch is our friend! But it made him happier, so we came here with him."

"It's boring here, so Pump and I have been teaching lots of people how to spooky dance!"

"Oh?" Girlfriend indulges them and smiles as they crowd closer to her. "Can you show me too?"

"You don't know the spooky dance?"

"We should show her!"

"It goes like this!" The pair of children do a little dance for her, and a happy laugh escapes her as she watches. Boyfriend leans back and enjoys her happiness as the kids continue to chat with her.

"That looks like fun!"

"You can do it too!" Skid tugs on her hands, and it's enough to get her to stand up. "Just hold out your hands like this-"

"-and then you move like this!" The two of them demonstrate one more time before looking at Girlfriend expectantly. It takes her a few times, but the kids are surprisingly patient and more than happy to show her as many times as she requests until she gets it right. The sight of her having so much fun melts his heart, and he sighs as he watches her enjoy herself.

"Damn, look at you, meltin' into the table."

Boyfriend nearly slams his face against the table, making Pico guffaw as he puts their meals on the table. "Dude!"

"What? Just spittin' facts. Hey!" Pico's hands come to rest on his hips as he glares at the kids. Both Girlfriend and Boyfriend exchange a look, hiding their amused grins behind their hands as Pico takes on his caretaking role. "Skid, Pump, what did I say 'bout botherin' the customers?"

"Uhh..." The two kids freeze in place, looking at each other before looking at Pico. "Don't?"

"And what are you two doin'?"

"Bothering your friends!" Pump grins as Skid nods in agreement. "They are not customers, right?"

A puff of a laugh escapes Girlfriend as Boyfriend nudges Pico. "Yeah dude, we're your friends, not customers. We should get a de-"

A glare is enough to silence Boyfriend, but Girlfriend's composure quickly falls apart as a fit of giggles escapes her. Pico ignores her as he focuses his attention on his two charges. "They're still customers."

"But it's boring here!"

"Yeah, it's too quiet. You said there'd be music!"

"But there's no music, except for the soft elevator music."

"But that's boring too."

Both boys pout as Pico sighs and massages his temples. "Look, I didn't know the band would cancel today. After I'm done here, we can do something fun , okay?"

"Like getting candy?"

"Yeah, like gettin' candy." The two kids cheer and run off somewhere before Pico can stop them. "Hey-!"

"Damn, Pico, I didn't think you'd be good with kids." Boyfriend snickers as he eats a fry, watching as Pico sighs for the umpteenth time.

"You call that bein' good with kids?"

"It's better than I'd ever expect outta you."

"Rude little bitch." Pico snatches a few fries and chomps on them, ignoring Boyfriend's protests.

"When do you get off, Pico?" Girlfriend spins her fork around in her pasta before feeding the first bite to Boyfriend, keeping her eyes on Pico as the ginger hums thoughtfully.

"Technically nine, but I gotta watch the kids 'til ten. That's when Lila comes back from her shit."

"Do you wanna come over for movie night?" She looks over to Boyfriend who nods in agreement. Pico laughs and shakes his head.

"Ain't this supposed to be ya guys' anniversary date? Why the hell am I bein' invited?"

"'Cause it's more fun when you join us!" Boyfriend pipes up, making his eyes go wide with hope, knowing how much of a sucker Pico is for his puppy dog eyes. Like he predicts, Pico grumbles and looks away, a slight blush to his cheeks as he tries to regain his composure.

"Touchin', but nah. It's y'all's day. It's not my place to interrupt."

"You wouldn't be-!" A ringtone goes off in the middle of her sentence. Girlfriend pauses, taking her phone out as her smile vanishes. "Oh, just a minute." She leaves the table quickly as she answers her phone with a faint, "Hi, Daddy..."

"Hm." They watch her go outside before Pico turns back to Boyfriend. "I hope you have somethin' really good planned for tonight."

"Well, I don't have anything planned, per se-"

"Oh for fuck's sake-"

"But! Movie night is gonna be a thing! Or, was." Boyfriend frowns, not liking how it was her dad who called her. Knowing him, he could be asking her to come home earlier than planned, ruining their romantic movie night. "I was gonna play it by ear, y'know, in case something like that happens."

"Fair." Pico crosses his arms and fixes Boyfriend with a stare. "So how are you gonna save this night then?"

"Dunno yet." Boyfriend bites his lip and scratches at the table. "Like I said, I don't have much planned, so like..." His eyes wander over to the stage. A keyboard is the only instrument present on the stage alongside the stereos. He blinks slowly at the sight of it, a hum low in his throat.

"What? Ya suddenly got an idea?" Pico follows his gaze and whistles low. "Gonna sing a love song?"

"What? No." A pause. "Maybe. I dunno."

"You dunno?"

"I don't really have a song lined up." But it would be perfect. She loves it when he sings. Or raps. Or does anything really. And she did seem a little disappointed when she found out that there wasn't going to be a show tonight...

"You're a rapper," Pico supplies easily. "Just freestyle."

"But I don't have any beats." Which is true, unless he gets some help. His eyes wander up to meet Pico's gaze. "...Can I ask a favor?"

"Shoot."

"You still beatbox?"

And Pico smirks. "Only if ya got a plan."

Boyfriend looks around the bar, his eyes landing on the Spooky Boys and Cassette Girl. Music flows behind his eyes as he maps out the beats and flows on the spot. Fingers tap out the rhythm he wants to follow, and Pico taps his foot in tandem. "I think," he says, watching as Girlfriend comes back into the bar with a gloomy look on her face, "I've got a plan."

Pico leans forward, and Boyfriend quickly whispers it to him before shooing the ginger away. When Girlfriend takes her seat, Boyfriend takes it upon himself to buy some time for Pico as he keeps Girlfriend's attention on him.

"Something up?"

"Oh, it's just Daddy." Her frown deepens, and Boyfriend can feel his heart drop from the sight. She shouldn't be unhappy on their anniversary - of course her dad would ruin things for her. "He wants me to come home early, says he doesn't want me to stay over too late since he doesn't trust you to keep your hands to yourself."

"Tch. Your old man needs to lay off." From the corner of his eye, he sees Cassette Girl wander to some backroom, only to reappear with a few more coworkers as one of them takes over her position by the podium. Pico follows her next, helping her set up a couple of mics as she tests out the keyboard. The noises catch the attention of the patrons, including Girlfriend as she turns in interest at the ruckus.

"What's going on? Oh, is there a show happening after all?" A small smile forms on her lips as she watches the prep. "I wonder who they managed to get!"

"Yeah, I wonder." Boyfriend lets her watch them for a second longer before taking her attention again. "So how long can you stay out?"

"Mmm, at most, maybe an hour? Daddy's imps will come and pick me up, regardless of where I am." She puffs her cheeks out, which would normally be cute if she wasn't so distressed. "Mommy was okay with me spending the night! But Daddy won't even let me stay before midnight, so that ruins movie night..."

"Hey, don't worry about it. We can always have movie night whenever." He reaches over and takes her hand, giving it a firm, comforting squeeze.

"But today was supposed to be our day." She frowns again, holding onto his hand as she sighs softly. "We were supposed to have a nice night doing whatever we wanted. And now that's going to be ruined because my dad is being... himself again."

Random beats start playing. It takes them both by surprise as they turn around to see Pico messing with... some kind of pad? Is that a launchpad? Cassette Girl shakes her head and points to some buttons before Pico nods and- ah. So he didn't steal it from someone. Clearly, it was Cassette Girl's own device.

"What are they doing?" Girlfriend watches with more interest as the two kids clamber onto the stage, Pico talking to them softly as they nod along to whatever he's saying excitedly. He wags his finger like a metronome, and the boys both follow its movement before nodding furiously as he grins and pats the tops of their heads. As Pico looks up from the boys, he meets Boyfriend's gaze and gives a small nod before standing up.

"They're getting a show ready for you." Boyfriend grins when Girlfriend looks over to him bewildered.

"What do you mean, for me?"

"Heeeellloooo, everyone!" Cassette Girl speaks into the microphone with her familiar drawl, getting the patrons to quiet down as they watch with rapt attention. "Now, as you know, our booked gig for tonight ended up cancelling, but at the very last minute, we managed to snag another performer instead! You may be familiar with his bright blue hair and obnoxious voice," a rumble of laughter rolls through the crowd, but he takes it all in stride as he waits for the intro to end, "but he's gotten pretty famous throughout these parts for his amazing freestyle rap! Dedicated to his lovely Girlfriend of one year, we have Mr. Boyfriend, here to perform for one night only!"

"Boyfriend?!" Girlfriend's eyes widen in excitement as he stands from his seat, grinning confidently as he winks to her. It's not often he gets to perform for the sake of performing, so he wants to make this the best performance she's ever seen.

"You better give this girl a helluva anniversary."

As if he wasn't.

He takes the offered microphone from Cassette Girl as she takes her place behind the keyboard.

"Heya, folks!" He waves out to the crowd as the people who recognize him from his many rap battles cheer him on. Girlfriend cheers from the crowd, for once enjoying the show as just a normal person, instead of being in the thick of it. "Like Cassey said, this show is dedicated to my Girlfriend. I started this whole career for her, and if it weren't for her, I never would have found this flow in my life. I love her more than any song can convey, so I hope a show's worth of songs can get the message along. Now are you ready to get funkin' lit?!"

The crowd erupts into cheers as Girlfriend stands and cheers the loudest, her smile wide and bright as she pumps her fist in the air. They wait for the crowd to calm down before Pico starts his beatboxing. The beat begins slow, the notes sounding familiar as recognition settles on Girlfriend's features.

"Yo," he begins, holding the microphone close to his lips as he gets into the beat, "it's the remix." Pico's beatboxing continues before Cassette Girl joins in with her keyboard. The beat plays from the launchpad as the beatboxing ends, and that's his cue to start rapping.

"Don't look complacent, wearin' those rags, you ain't adjacent. Lookie, I'm fly, and you look basic. Look in her eyes, and I feel like takin' it for the win." He meets Girlfriend's gaze with a grin as he waves his hand back and forth, pumping the crowd up as he continues to rap.

"Her dad be evil, no twin. Skin purp' like the Sprite, sippin'. He open his yap and you wouldn't believe it's the sound of an angel when he spittin'." At Pico's cue, Skid and Pump join in with a chant of, "Go man go! Go man go!" They keep it up as Boyfriend continues to rap, the energy high and exciting as he performs for fun.

"Even though he look like a demon, hold my blue nuts as I battle for the takin'. Of this girl, I just wanna hold her hand. Look in our DM's and it's like candy land." Boyfriend kneels on the stage and gestures for Girlfriend to come closer. Without missing a beat, Girlfriend makes her way over, her head bobbing in time to the rhythm as she smiles blissfully.

"Yo, I really can't bust when her evil ass dad tryna make my ass be grass. So I got one shot, learned to spit real hot, and it might just go like this." As he takes her hand, he pulls her onto the stage and the Spooky Boys go quiet for his next lines.

"I don't mean no disrespect, but there's something about her I can't let go. Baby, you know that I love you, even though my balls are blue." The joke gets a giggle from Girlfriend, and it takes all his willpower not to stop rapping just to kiss her right there.

"I want to spend my life with her, even if her dad is evil or some shit. Now spit it like this: we gettin' freaky on a Friday night, chyeah!" The crowd goes wild as he scoops Girlfriend up in one arm, cradling her against his body as he continues to rap. Her arms wrap around his neck as she leans against him, warm and happy in his embrace.

As she should be.

The Spooky Boys return with the chant, pumping the crowd up some more as they cheer loudly with the rap.

"I just want to hold her tight, chyeah! Her hair, her eyes, her thighs, yeah. If I die, it'll all be worth it. Just to get a chance to show she's worth it!" He sways with the beat, watching as the crowd gets into the performance. Besides him, Cassette Girl is grinning, nodding her head to the beat as she plays the mellow tunes on her keyboard. Pico meanwhile focuses his attention alternating between beatboxing and playing the right beats on the launchpad, all while paying attention to the song and directing when the boys start and end their chant. Despite the amount of tasks on his shoulders, he holds himself high and proud, enjoying himself with a smile as he moves with the beat. Even the kids are enjoying themselves, bouncing on the spot and watching Pico intently for his cues. A part of Boyfriend wonders if they're even paying attention to the lyrics or if they're too engrossed in the beats and sounds coming from the keyboard and launchpad to even care.

Not that it matters.

All that matters is that they're all having fun . He looks out into the crowd and sees smile upon smile as they're all enjoying themselves to the music. This. This is what performing is all about. The energy, the enjoyment, everyone losing themselves to the music and forgetting their woes and worries for even just a minute-

That's what makes it all so worth it.

He raps the chorus one last time before letting the beat peter out, Pico ending the song with his beatboxing increasing in tempo before ending it abruptly. The crowd continues their cheers as Boyfriend yells into his microphone.

"You guys ready for more?!"

There's no doubt in his mind that he will absolutely be banned from the bar after this show, just with how rowdy the crowd is getting. But it's all worth it in the end as he nods to his friends to play whatever beat that comes to mind. He'll come up with the lyrics on the fly, all of them dedicated to Girlfriend as he sets her down and holds her tight to his side as they sway together.

He doesn't know how long they go for. All the hype and excitement pushes him to continue, and when he looks over to see if Pico or Cassette Girl or even the boys look just a little tired, he's surprised to see them too excited to even consider taking a break. The night is filled with raps filled with jokes and love as the clock finally strikes ten.

Time to end the show.

"Alriiiight, everyone!" Cassette Girl takes the microphone back from Boyfriend, panting slightly as she gestures to the crowd that grew during the performance. "Unfortunately, that's it for this show! Thanks for watching, hope you enjoyed your meals, and please, come back again when we host another gig or open mic!" The crowd applauds as they all bow. Cassette Girl pats his shoulder with a grin and turns back to help Pico clean up. Girlfriend clings to his side, giggling and burying her face against his neck.

"Ohhh, that was so much fun!" Her giddiness makes him laugh as he hugs her tight, covering her face in kisses as he breathes for the first time since the performance began.

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Are you kidding?!" She laughs and picks him up, twirling them together in a circle before cuddling him midair. "That was the most fun I've had in ages!"

"I'm glad," he admits, relief washing over him that their night was a success after all. "Sucks we didn't finish our dinners though."

"I can get boxes for them." Pico shows up next to them, both kids curled up in his arms as they cling to him. "Or, uh, I can get Cass to get 'em for ya."

"Aww, are they tired?" Girlfriend sets Boyfriend down to take a look at the kids. "They did a really good job tonight!" Skid lifts his head up, a tired but bright smile on his face as he giggles.

"That was fun! I wanna do it again, Mr. Pico!"

"I'll think about it. Remember what we promised before the show?"

"No repeating the bad words around mom," both boys respond, although Pump's words are muffled against Pico's shirt. He chuckles and nods towards the couple.

"I gotta get these kids home. You guys get some rest too."

"We will." Boyfriend stretches, feeling worn out from the show.

"See ya."

"Bye, Pico!" Girlfriend waves as Pico walks off, the two kids waving from Pico's arms. "He really is good with kids, even if he won't admit it."

"He's always been protective of them." They both hum, the thought sobering them a bit as they watch the ginger disappear in the crowd. "We should visit him later and make sure he's okay too."

"Sounds like a plan." Girlfriend smiles and takes his hand, swinging their arms between them. A waitress comes by quickly, helping them pack their barely eaten dinners and shooing them out of the bar. As they leave, Boyfriend passes by Server-chan, her expression still looking exhausted as their eyes meet. But despite this, she smiles when she sees him, and he hopes she had fun too during his show.

He and Girlfriend walk for about five minutes before a limo pulls up beside them. She sighs and turns to hug him tight, her face buried in his shoulder before she kisses him softly.

"Thanks for the lovely night," she whispers, soft and tender as the warmth from her cheek seeps through his shirt. "It really was the best night of my life."

"I'm glad then," he whispers back, pressing a kiss to her temple. "'Cause I'm gonna make sure I make every night the best night of your life from now on."

She giggles, pulling herself away reluctantly before climbing into the limo. He watches as it drives away into the night, leaving him alone.

The night air is cold and brisk, but he finds himself warm regardless. A smile wide and bright on his face as he stuffs his hands into his pockets, a tune coming out in the form of a whistle as he walks home.

What a night to remember.

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hopetofantasy · 3 years

Text

Actress Nora Dari (wtFOCK): “I hope I don't go crazy. I wouldn't be surprised if that happens”

Two years ago she was allowed to bump into Matteo Simoni in ‘Patser’, now your fifteen-year-old knows her as Yasmina from ‘wtFOCK’ and she ended up in Cannes because of the new film by Bas Devos. Where it ends for Nora Dari remains to be seen, but you don't want to get in her way. “You’ve been looking so long for a Moroccan girl who wants to act and then you get me.”

“So I always try to be a bit low key...” She hesitates. "Eumh, do you know what 'low key' means?" "How much of antique do you think I am exactly?" “Gosh. You have a flip cover for your smartphone, I saw.” “Point for Dari. But what are you trying to be a bit low key...” “Huh? Sorry, I have no idea anymore. I was completely distracted by that pigeon over there.” It’s easy to forget - especially when she starts talking in her Genk dialect about her sky-high ambitions or her tough childhood in Winterslag - that Nora Dari is barely seventeen. After all, she’s already accumulated a nice record of achievements in two years. From the Belgian-Finnish crime series ‘Bullets’ (shown on Telenet) and a leading role in ‘wtFOCK’, the online series of SBS and Telenet, to her supporting role in ‘Ghost Tropic’, the most recent full-length movie by Bas Devos, who made the selection of Quinzaine des Réalisateurs in Cannes in May. The day after our conversation at an Antwerp terrace, she leaves for London, for a fourth and final audition for a lead role in an international film project. “It looks good, but I can't tell you anything about it yet. That’s a tough assignment for me: my whole body really wants to scream. Seriously, I'm pretty much the Moroccan Tom Holland (Spider-Man, and the spoiler king of Marvel's Cinematic Universe). But I'll remain silent!”

How does a large, international production house ends up at your door? Nora Dari: “I started knocking on their door. I'm really not going to sit around and wait for someone to discover me miraculously, so if someone gives me a tip about an interesting movie, I'll go after it myself. I always want more and everything I set my mind to, seems to be working. An international series, ‘wtFOCK’, Cannes with my first film role and now this latest project is also within reach. Can you blame me for believing? In my head, I'm already in Hollywood. First become a Shooting Star at the Berlinale.” Just in between everything? Dari: “You can dream, right? Acknowledgement is not for me - I don't even know who decide such things - but rather, it’s a means to an end. If you end up in the same list of acting prodigies (those Shooting Stars) as Marwan Kenzari, Matteo Simoni and Matthias Schoenaerts, every director knows who you are.” You can also quietly build an acting career in Belgium. Or is that really not an option? Dari: “Why should I linger on a few square meters? My world was so small in Winterslag and now that it’s gradually getting bigger, I really don't know why I should stop at Flanders. Even if ambition is a very dirty word where I come from.”

How? Dari: “Winterslag is a neighborhood where many young people are going into the wrong direction. Big dreams are taboo, apparently. I was bullied, mainly because I wanted to start something with my life. Even if I said that I would one day want to go to New York, I would be laughed at: “Just sit down, Nora! Who do you think you are?”

Keep your head down, keep your nose clean and make sure that you can start working at the age of eighteen: something like that? Dari: *nods* “Graduating and going to work at the age of eighteen seems like quite an achievement in Winterslag. If you hadn't gotten into the wrong shit by then, you would’ve done well. At my school, we had two pupils without an immigration background and otherwise exclusively Turks, Moroccans and Italians from families who were really poor. Our parents worked very hard, you spend a lot of time on the street and bad things sometimes happened. *thinks* There’s a reason why I almost exclusively watch gangstershit movies. I come from a neighborhood where a lot of gangstershit happens. I’ve seen and experienced so many bad things, but at the same time Winterslag is such a big part of who I am and I get very angry when someone else talks about it like I do now. *small laugh*

I’ll buy a house there one day. It’s still my home, all the beautiful things and all the rotten things in one pile. To be clear: I don't want to romanticize my childhood. Winterslag is hard, but nothing to be sad about. There are so many people who have gone through the same thing. Only, it sucks to be called a whore, because you want to do something that is apparently 'not normal'.”

It dawns on me why you once said that Algerian-Canadian Zaho's song Kif'n'dir summed you up quite nicely. Especially the text 'Je fais la morte pour ne pas mourir'. Dari: “That's what I've been doing for a long time. Keeping myself deathly still and don’t stand out too much. In the long run, you also start to believe what others are telling you, that acting is not for you.”

When did you finally stopping ‘being death’? Dari: “When I was fifteen, when I heard that Adil El Arbi and Bilall Fallah were looking for extras for ‘Patser’. That didn't mean much more than just bumping into Matteo Simoni, but I was sold immediately. In between shots, I approached Adil: “Mr. El Arbi, thank you for opening my eyes. From now on, I’ll go all out for this.” *laughs* We clicked and in the meantime we’ve become friends. I hope he thinks of me when they start recording ‘Patsers’, so that I can show how much I've grown in those two years.”

Not much later, through their casting agency Hakuna, you ended up as a suicide bomber in the Finnish-Belgian Crime series ‘Bullets’. What have I missed? How did you go from a sixteen-year-old extra to such an intense role in a few months? Dari: “I think - if I may say that - they were shocked after my casting. I’ve never thrown myself into a project as hard in my life. Whining. Shouting. Tantrums. All fucking emotions, one after the other. You’ve been looking so long for a Moroccan girl who wants to act and then you get me. *laughs* I've never loved anything as much as acting, so I’m giving everything during a casting. I know that I’m not the best and still have to learn, but I suspect my energy is making up for it. That, and I consider myself a very pleasant colleague. *laughs* I greet everyone in a Genk dialect, always walk around smiling and even bring cookies.

I've always had the feeling that I have to work harder than the rest, because people expect less of me. That's what my father taught my brothers and me. At the Liège boarding school where he studied, he was the only Moroccan in Latin studies: his classmates thought he was weird, because of his origins and the other Moroccans looked at him weirdly, because he aimed higher. "Ah, Mr. pope is back there." In the end it became so unbearable that he enrolled in the TSO (technical school), which was socially accepted.”

How does a 16-year-old feel like a suicide bomber? Dari: “They gave me a background, but I added a few things myself to make it easier. And music helps me really hard too: ‘Qui suis-je’ from Scylla on repeat and then a little method acting in that character. My mother was there on set and apparently got terrified. *laughs* I asked them not to accompany me anymore. When I see them, I come back to myself, while I try very hard to forget myself in front of the camera. I need to be able to get into a role on set. Although it remains very strange to hype yourself up for hours with the mantra 'I'm dying and I'm taking all these people with me'. Fortunately, I can also easily let go. I had to, I had exams the next day. *laughs* Suicide bomber by day, studying economy by night.”

In May you hopped around on the Croisette for the world premiere of ‘Ghost Tropic’. You play the daughter of Khadija, a woman who walks home through Brussels after falling asleep on the metro. Devos makes quiet, poetic arthouse films: it’s a huge leap from teenage series and thrillers. Dari: “It was an adjustment, yes. Before I played in ‘Bullets’, I had never even seen a Flemish film. Not a single one. Or wait: one at school. What was it called? I have to give a speech soon, with its protagonist.”

‘Daens’? With Jan Decleir? Dari: “That one! Everything I had already learned about acting was from Hollywood movies. That enlarged playing style also worked in ‘Bullets’, but when I tried that in ‘Ghost Tropic’, Bas blocked it very quickly. *laughs* "The less you do the better, Nora!" I thought about it all too hard. "Nora, just go." “Yes, but Bas, who am I? What have I been through up to this point?” I have a hard time playing without a backstory in my head.”

Did you learn something from Devos? Dari: “Bas and Maaike Neuville told me in Cannes that I shouldn’t forget to live. I was only busy with what should be my next big step, but I also have to learn to enjoy. Surrendering is nothing dirty, but if I put everything aside for this job, I’ll never be able to put content in my characters. Then they’ll give me a heavy role and I’ll get stuck.”

Sensible advice. Alarm bells already went off when I read in ‘Het Belang van Limburg’ that you certainly wanted to remain celibate until you were 27 and wouldn’t continue your studies, just focussing on your career. Dari: “In the end, I’ll study cross-media management and I’ve come back to that other one as well. *laughs* What?! I’m seventeen, I change my mind completely every month. When I am 40, I don't just want to have a nice IMDb profile to look back on.”

'9000 followers? That is more people than have seen my last film', Devos thought humbly in your Instagram Stories. Dari: “I hope ‘Ghost Tropic’ gets more visitors than I have followers, but I'm not going to bitch if only fifty people come to watch the film in the end. I just like to act and have hardly seen anything from ‘Bullets’ or ‘wtFOCK’ myself. When I'm not on set, I just feel bad. As if I'm not getting the most out of my life.

At the very least, ‘Ghost Tropic’ gave me another experience and I was able to take my father with me, when we went to the Dominican Republic. My grandfather had passed away just before the shoot and we kind of processed that together there, while we were watching the sunrise at five in the morning. A very tender moment. Very cinematic, too. *thinks* I’m a very passionate person. Everything I experience is immediately very big. It’s all hard, good or bad. So hard that I can't always process all the feelings. *dryly* I hope I don't go crazy. I really wouldn't be surprised if that happens.”

You seem to be especially prone to obsessions. Whether it’s making music, painting or acting: if you decide to do something, everything has to make way for it. Dari: “When I got a keyboard, I was immediately very invested in my music. Making beats to accompany my slam poetry, tinkering at night, searching and keeping my parents awake until they went crazy. And then I suddenly got tired of it and started painting. Swimming. Dancing. I also played soccer for a while, mainly to get my dad's attention. During the 'consultation hour' around the tajine I could never have a chat with my brothers and father, because it was only about football and anime.”

Anime? Dari: “The men in my family are all next-level anime fans. They even speak Japanese to each other. *thinks* And I also plunged into my religion for a while, in between football and slam poetry.”

How? Dari: “When the community center closed its doors around the age of 13 and I saw a whole circle of friends go away in one go, I started clinging to something else. So, faith. At that time I also wore a hijab, because I was convinced that you could only be such a good Muslim. I was really pretty strict and took everything way too literally. Today I understand that you mainly have to look for your own interpretation.”

In the meantime, the average 15-year-old is also going through a storm for the second season of wtFOCK, which can be followed daily on Instagram and wtfock.be, good for about 400,000 visitors a week and more than 8 million watched - or at least started - episodes. Significantly more than the first season, although that also had good numbers. Especially for a series that was deliberately launched in silence. “You’re already bombarded with advertising on Instagram, subtle and less subtle,” says Dari, while she tries so intensely to make eye contact with a waiter that he almost bumps into a glass door. “I don't have any big theories about the future of television, but ‘wtFOCK’ really was a relief. It’s on the internet and you mainly do what you want with it. "Ah, I don't have to look?" That unforced approach works. The worst thing that could have happened to us, was that the press started writing about it en masse: it had to remain a bit mysterious and above all belong to the young people themselves. Normally we don't give interviews either: ‘wtFOCK’ is one big bubble that you shouldn't talk too much about.”

Without any illusions about the appeal of Knack Focus to fifteen-year-olds: is this conversation a good idea? Dari: “Sounds okay to me. I’m more now than just Yasmina? And I think fifteen-year-olds do know Knack.”

For real? Dari: “That's the book we get in History as source material in class. *laughs* I think I'll stop giving interviews again after this. A little mystery can't hurt.”

SKAM, the Norwegian series of which ‘wtFOCK’ is a remake, became a hit in its own country. That’s not always the case with foreign remakes, except for the Flemish one. It continues to gain popularity. Do you have an explanation for that? Dari: “No idea why things were less successful in other countries, but ‘wtFOCK’ is so good because it is real. We don't disguise anything, don't pour Hollywood sauce on it and talk like I talk to my friends. Apparently, a lot of teachers also follow the series to get a better understanding of their students. Smart, because we tackle all issues a teenager has in a very realistic way.”

The makers of SKAM were prepared with a tour through its country and a survey of Norwegian teenagers. Their biggest conclusion was: no generation suffers as much from performance pressure and comparison anxiety as yours. Dari: “Social media. Instagram is a very beautiful, but at the same time very scary place. A lot of girls now ask me, for example, how they can also enter this profession. But if you ask them why, it turns out that there’s no passion, they just see it as a fast road to fame. Then join ‘Temptation Island’? They see people like Millie Bobby Brown (from Stranger Things), who is barely fifteen and has a crazy career and they let themselves be hyped about it. I should actually say 'we'. I said it already: I hope I don't go crazy.” *giggles hysterically*

About 1200 teenagers showed up for the casting of wtFOCK, but the makers did not find their Yasmina there. Dari: *nods* “In the end they also had to call Adil, who gave me the tip.”

Why do you think that is? Dari: “I get angry when someone says they want more diversity, but can't find anyone. *throws arms up dramatically* "They aren't there!" They are there. In my neighborhood alone, so much talent is packed together. You may have to do your best to find them, because if you come from a neighborhood where ambition is laughed at, you’ll not find your way to a casting. Because the TV and film world seem so closed off from the outside - and it is. I also didn't know how to do that, I was just lucky that Adil, Nora Gharib and Ikram Aoulad wanted to help me. They helped me avoid a lot of rookie mistakes. And that I won't sign myself up for Temptation Island or something tomorrow.” *laughs*

Gharib also predicted that as a Moroccan woman she would have problems with ‘Patser’. From the moment you do not portray a classic religious Muslim woman, it seems to already lead to commentary. Dari: “I've had my part too. Women who send to me that I brought shame on the entire Moroccan community, for example, because Yasmina doesn't always wear her hijab. Usually these are women who’ve seen two minutes of the series and then get angry without seeing the context. *blows* You know, I don’t care. If my parents and I are okay with it, then no one has anything to say to me. Criticism slips away from me. It really takes more than an angry DM to get me off my path, I come from Winterslag breeding.”

*** Bas Devos, director ‘Ghost Tropic’:

“I had never seen Nora at work, but her audition video immediately made me curious. At the final casting, where she had to improvise a bit, it was already clear to me after a few minutes. She did a beautiful job. Nora is not trained as an actress, but I often work with a combination of non-professional and professional actors. That really doesn't matter to me. It's all about how naturally someone relates to the camera and how relaxed you are while being filmed. Then very beautiful things can happen. And I think she also liked not having to make her character bigger in an understated film like ‘Ghost Tropic’, as that’s sometimes the case for TV. To hear that you are still playing without doing anything.

It's cool how she dares to go for something so outspokenly at such a young age, but I did point out to her that working alone isn’t the perfect solution. She’s very fond of that international career, but it is also easy to walk into a wall there. Seventeen-year-olds have to live, right? Well, she's sensible enough, I'm not worried. She'll eventually find the right balance. At the end of the shooting period, she said she hoped we could work together again. I told her that I hope she still likes it by then. *laughs* Who knows which films will she be in then.”

#wtfock #wtfam #older article

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shadow--writer · 3 years

Text

Please Don't go Walking Out That Door

(title) After a heavy depressive episode with writing I have returned! \o/ (fuck u helen). Are we gonna mention my word count? Absolutely not.

Maeve x Lucas. Late nights, bloody days. 4.1k (don’t fuckin look at me)

TW (most of these are squicks): injuries, blood, scars, non sexual upper body nudity (briefly)

@dela-png

The night stretched on and she felt woozy.

Sometimes she wondered why she didn’t get help and why she was running this shitshow by herself. At least with extra hands she wouldn’t have to deal with her regulars alone.

The bell rang into the silence, she pressed a hand to her forehead.

Oh great.

“T-Thumbelina?”

Her head snapped up at the voice.

It was Lucas.

And he was carrying an injured woman.

Maeve could just barely see the knife sticking out of her back, and the blood leaking down. The woman was slurring her words, squeezing her eyes shut.

Maeve rubbed her temples, walking over to the two of them. Her heels clicked on the worn hardwood with her steps. She shut the clinic’s door behind them, closing the blinds around the windows.

“Good Goddess above, do you get everyone into trouble?” she muttered, taking the injured side arm of the woman. They shifted her to one of the nearest tables. She was complaining the entire time, shaking her arm to get it out of Maeve’s grip.

“Well...no. This one was all her fault.”

“And I can fucking take care of it myself,” she said as Maeve and Lucas shifted her up onto the table. Well those words sounded vaguely familiar.

“Her fault hm? Let me guess, picked a fight and didn’t realize they were sleazy?”

“...you got it.”

She chuckled, pulling her hair up. “Oh I’ve been there.” She yanked the ribbon closed around her hair, looking at the woman on her clinic table.

“I need to take your shirt off so I can get a good look at your wounds,” she said, shifting over to look for her pain medicines and needles. A knife in the back could hit a multitude of organs. Stomach, kidney, pancreas, an intestine.

Sometimes you learn things from experience as well as being taught.

Lucas looked at the woman as Maeve sterilized her scalpel. “Hey Amani, she’s gonna help you.”

Amani bit at his hand. He shifted away from her, muttering something in a bitter tone.

“I’m fine! I can fix myself up!” Her voice was a snarl.

Something about the notion of taking her shirt off was bothering her.

Maeve guessed it had to do with something on her back.

Like a scar.

She set her tools down on the table with a light thump. She was tired and could feel a headache coming on.

“If I show you the scars on my back, will you let me help you before you bleed out?” She rubbed her temples.

“I can fix myself.” There was an edge and some very creative swears following it as Maeve tapped the knife.

“A healing spell isn’t going to do much unless you have very flexible bones and can reach around your back to give yourself stitches. It’ll work wonders for some damage, but can you fix internal? What about stop the bleeding?”

The woman turned away.

“Amani please. I can’t help you,” Lucas whispered. “I’m useless.”

“You’re aren’t useless,” Amani muttered. “A fucking dumbass for bringing me here instead of helping me home, but not useless.”

“Sorry to say most of my medicine and herbs are locked up as well,” Maeve said, looking at the knife. She would need to get the woman’s shirt off her back to see the wound.

But maybe not take it of all the way...it was already torn up...and if she didn’t mind the loss Maeve would only need to tear it further instead of taking it off entirely. “You won’t be getting anything.”

She bent over to be eye to eye with Amani. “So you’re stuck with me helping you.”

“Sorry short stack, but the shirt stays on.”

“I will only need to tear it to see the wound.”

“On.”

Maeve huffed. “I will show you my back if you let me tear your shirt. But this is a timed offer as I do not want you to bleed out on me. Do you know how messy that would be? A pain to clean!”

Amani turned to look over at Lucas. He slapped a hand to his forehead. “So this is the Thumbelina you’ve been raving about? She’s a total bitch!”

She flicked her scalpel. “A bitch with a sharp object. Pick your battles wisely.” Her eyes darted down to the knife in Amani’s back. “If you can be wise at all.”

“Maeve!” Lucas wheezed.

Amani snorted. “Fiery.”

Maeve stood upright, resting a hand on her hip as she sighed. “I’m used to dealing with people like you. Now, the shirt is going to come off one way or another. Question is; do you want me to knock you out or are you going to comply?”

Amani mouthed the word ‘bitch’ at Lucas. He shot her a glare. “Amani, I love you, but please.”

“Yeah yeah. And you still brought me to the bitchy mean doctor.”

“For a knife lodged in your back!”

“That I can take care of!”

“It’s in your back!”

Amani huffed, turning back to Maeve. “So, if you help me, you’ll leave me alone? The both of you?”

“If you don’t decide to bite me first, yes. You’ll have to stay a little bit when the pain meds kick in since depending on the wound, they can be pretty powerful.”

Amani sighed. “Ugh.”

“This is no fun for me either.”

“So...you’ll show me your scars first, right?”

“We are on a time limit.”

“Your back first.”

She threw her hands in the air, Lucas backing away from the hand holding the scalpel. “Fine! Fine!” She set the scalpel down. “We are on a tight schedule but fine!”

She turned to Lucas, the heels of her shoes the only sound for a moment. “Help me with my dress please,” she said, moving her hair off one shoulder to reveal the laces down her back.

“You want me to what?”

She huffed, frustrated with the two of them. Her headache throbbed between her eyes. She wanted to rub her temples again. “Just...unlace me.”

“But-”

“Do you want her to bleed out?”

He shook his head, hands trembling a little as he untied the bow just under the collar of her dress. His touch was soft against her skin, moving quickly with the time crunch.

Even so, she couldn’t deny the hitch in her breath as he brushed her skin.

He grazed a jagged scar between her shoulder blades as he finished unlacing her.

“So what are you…”

“Showing her my scars as I’ve promised. Then I’ll pull that knife out and hopefully she’ll still be alive in time for me to give her stitches. But of course, she insists on this.”

Maeve rubbed her eyes, walking back to the woman on the table. She watched Lucas with an almost...amused glint in her eye.

Maeve shrugged the dress off her shoulders.

“Whoa hold on-”

She shot a glare at Lucas. Apparently even he caught on to the scene before him. “Oh relax, it’ll be quick. And I’m wearing something under this.”

“But…”

“Lucas, we don’t have time to ‘preserve my modesty.’ You may look away if you wish, but this sort of thing is nothing new to me. If she wants to see my scars to be more comfortable with me seeing hers, fine.”

“But you’re-”

“You are abnormally stubborn for someone in your position. It isn’t hard to catch on. If you do not wish to see me undress ever so slightly, then you may look away. But please remember she is bleeding out on my clinic table with a knife in her back. I do not believe we have the kind of time to discuss this.”

“Lucas just admit you like what you see and move on!” Amani called.

Maeve shot her a withering glare. “And you, you have no place to talk! Making me jump through hoops to take a knife out of your back.”

She held the bodice of her dress to her chest as she looked at Amani. “And here are my scars, are you happy?”

Amani stared at the mess of flesh on Maeve’s back. She knew it was a mess of old wounds. From axes. Arrows. Some burn scars. Bite marks. Knife and sword wounds. She was glad she was related to one of the best healers on her island.

“Damn.”

“Are we good now? Can I just tear your shirt a little to get the knife out?” Maeve huffed, pushing her dress back over her shoulders. She didn’t have time to lace it so she’d have to make due with showing a little bit of skin.

All she needed to do was just...heal, stitches, medicine, rest. Then she could get them out of her hair and pass out for a million moon cycles.

“You can tear it a little…” Amani muttered.

Maeve let out a tired sigh, picking up her scalpel and needles (with sutures already tied neatly, she anticipated someone coming in. But not this).

She tore Amani’s shirt, revealing a bit of marred skin. Gold paint was flaking off and onto the table. Amani twitched under her as she looked at the skin puckering around the knife.

“Fucking hell doc, your hands are so cold.”

“Oh yeah I know. Would you rather Giant manhandle you?”

“Gods he’d crush me!” “Hey!”

Maeve chuckled, giving the knife a good tug. Amani spewed curses as Maeve muttered something to herself. It was lodged in there pretty good. She suspected it hit an organ as well. She’d have to be quick with healing and stopping the blood.

“Well Miss. Amani, you might have another scar to add to your collection,” Maeve said, cleaning her hands on her apron. “And I do warn you, this might hurt a little.”

“Do your worst.”

“Oh I will.”

“Wait-”

She pulled on the knife. It came out with a spurt of blood. She was right about the organ thing, but thankfully it was only the small intestine. Any higher might’ve been stomach or even a lung.

Healing spells didn’t work with organs surrounded by bone.

Amani screamed, swearing in another language.

Maeve tossed the knife to the side, pressing her apron (her poor apron) to the wound. “Calma síos, ba é sin an chuid éasca,” she muttered, her native language a comfort to her. She breathed through her nose, gearing up for the healing spell.

There was a spark in her palms

And it faded.

Cursing, she fought for it back, but each attempt fell flat.

“Thumbelina?” Lucas asked.

“I don’t have enough fucking energy for this fucking goddamn spell. Shit.”

“Hey! Watch your fucking language in front of a patient!” Amani said.

“I shall do no such thing you fucking nitwit!” Maeve huffed, sweat dripping from her brow. Her hands were stained red.

“Can you...draw on energy from someone else?” Lucas asked.

“I could in theory, but I don’t know what it would do to the other person.”

“Could you use me?”

She turned to look at him, her dress fell off of one shoulder. “Could I what?”

“Use me. My energy.”

“He does have a lot of that- OW!” Maeve pressed the wound a little roughly to shut Amani up.

“I don’t know what it would do.”

“I know you can help.”

“Ugh,” Amani moaned. “Stop flirting and help me.”

“We aren’t flirting,” Maeve said firmly. “Lucas come here.”

He shuffled forward.

“Touch me.”

“Huh?”

“God- just...touch my back.”

He jolted, placing a hand on her bare skin. She sucked in a breath, his hand splayed along her scars. His hand was almost as big as her back was.

“N-Now,” she breathed. “Visualize.”

“Like what I do to channel my magic?”

He had magic? She wasn’t surprised he had it but surprised he’d use it.

Nonetheless it lent well.

“Yes. But channel it into me.”

“Are you sure...it gets kind of...powerful.”

“Just...do it. Giant, she is bleeding out as we speak.”

“Yeah! Help me, then flirt- HEY! Stop that!”

She pressed the wound again. “Save your breath, you will need it.”

Amani muttered something under said breath as Maeve counted down.

She was hit with a surge. She gritted her teeth, her hands going numb with the amount of energy.

Holy fuck.

“I cannot believe this is just...your magic,” she muttered as Amani writhed under her. Lucas was jumpy, flinching every time Amani slurred out a curse.

“I’m knitting the wound back together. It hurts like a son of a bitch, but I always stop before they black out. Not healthy to keep going otherwise.”

“Why does it hurt so much?” he asked, his breaths coming out in slight heaves.

“All magic has its price and drawbacks.”

She pulled back with a gasp. Lucas leaned against her. Amani stopped squirming.

“That fucking hurt,” she gasped.

“Well yeah. You got stabbed in the small intestine. And we still have stitches!” She massaged her temples. She smeared blood along her skin. Mm she’d have to bathe as well. Great.

“You okay there Thumbelina?”

“Mm fine. Just tired. Like you. I’ll be okay. Just gotta fix her up and get you guys some water.” Ugh she was woozy again. Her dress kept slipping down. She kept pushing it up. He watched her.

“You have tattoos on your back.”

“...I do indeed.”

“They’re lovely.”

She stiffened. “T-Thank you.” Amani rolled her eyes. His hand brushed one of her scars, making her let out a tiny squeak.

“What’s this from?”

“A...brawl with my family.”

“A brawl?”

“Mmhmm. Hate to brag, but I won. I’m a bit of a feral fighter. I’m sure I can beat you.”

She started Amani’s stitches. Her bodice slipped down her arms. She cursed, pushing it back up.

“I’d like to see you try and beat me,” he said with a chuckle, holding her dress up and slowly lacing up the back. She went rigid at his touch. His hands were so much warmer than she expected.

She calmed her erratic breathing, focusing on her needlework. Amani was blessedly silent.

“I could and I would,” she said, tugging the wound closed.

“I’m like four times your size.”

“Yes but I’m fast. And I have military training. I don’t think you’ve ever seen me in action before.”

“Well no...but neither have you.”

“Ugh can you stop flirting!”

And then the silence was ended.

“It isn’t flirting, only a conversation while I help stitch you up.”

“Yeah but his hands are all over you.” His hands froze.

“He’s pulling up my dress.” She knotted the thread, snipping it with scissors she kept nearby. “A mer conversation about me whooping his ass is not flirting.”

“You whooping my ass?” he asked.

“Now this is flirting.” She turned to look at him. “I would, but I must say, it is a nice ass.”

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and then closed it.

He looked like a fish.

She giggled, turning back to Amani. She changed the conversation to ignore the heat in the tips of her ears. Even brazen flirting didn’t save her from the effects of the new found feelings she had for him.

“So I have some pain meds, but they’ll knock you out pretty good if you aren’t careful. I can also fetch you a new shirt if you’d like. This one is kind of a mess.”

She helped Amani to sit up. She ran her hands down the front of her shirt. “No thanks. Rather attached to this one.”

“Of course.”

“Damn, what’s with the way she speaks?” Amani looked at Lucas.

Like Maeve wasn’t right there.

This headache might turn into a migraine.

“It’s so proper!”

“Well she normally speaks...differently I suppose.”

“I only get very proper when I have a headache, and the two of you are the root issue,” Maeve groused, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “It was already a long day and now an even longer night.” She always fell back into her aunt's lessons when she was sick.

That or she lost her filter.

She preferred to sound like a lady. She hurt feelings when she didn’t have what little filter on.

“Ah so this is Maeve? She’s a treasure,” Amani snorted.

Maeve cracked an eye open. “Well a warning about you would’ve been nice as well.”

“He never mentioned me?” She looked at Lucas, jutting a finger at him. “You whore!”

“Amani!”

Maeve threw her hands into the air. “I’m going to get water both for myself and the two of you knuckleheads.”

“Hey!” they yelled at the same time as she walked away.

“What and you want to spend the night too?” she snapped, grabbing a few glasses and filling them with water from her bucket. She left bloody handprints but she couldn’t find it in her to care. “You need the water for the medicine anyways. I need it for my headache. And Lucas…”

“...we’ll just go with I’m thirsty.”

“Oh yeah you’re thirsty alright,” Amani huffed. “But not for the water.”

Lucas’ face flushed pink. “Amani!”

“Mmm I’m sure,” Maeve hummed, placing a glass in each of their hands. “And tell me, what on Earth would he be thirsty for?”

“...you know, sometimes I wonder if I can find someone as dense as Lucas and it appears that I have.”

Maeve chuckled. “Oh I’m fully aware of what your comment implies. I get enough of it from my little sister.”

...ah so that’s who Amani reminded her of.

No wonder she wanted to strangle her.

She just felt like her younger sister. Had the air of her.

Gods help her if they ever meet.

“But it’s more fun to watch him squirm.”

Amani’s eyes lit up. “Oh you. I’m starting to like you.”

“Mmm oh...wonderful,” she replied, moving over to look for the pain meds. “More people to bother me.”

“I thought you liked me!” Lucas protested, making her crack a smile. Her headache was slightly dulled by the water, but judging by how much her head throbbed not even sleep would help.

“On occasion,” she hummed, standing on her tiptoes to try and reach her lactucarium bottle. This tasted vile, but it was effective.

She swayed a little, being hit with a wave of dizziness. She stumbled backwards, hand coming down to rest on her forehead as she spat out curses. She most likely hadn’t been drinking water.

...now that she thought about it she didn’t even eat either. The meal Lucas brought sat untouched in her backroom.

He would kill her if he found that one out.

Speaking of…

She looked up at Lucas, who had caught her. She stumbled a little, trying to worm her way out of his arms. Amani was chuckling (and then yelping at the pull on her stitches).

“You okay there, Thumbelina?” The testing offense gone from his voice.

“Just a dizzy spell.”

“You’ve had a lot of those.”

“This time it’s from a headache. I’ll be okay once you two go home and I can sleep.”

He didn’t crack a smile like she hoped he would. Hers fell.

“Did you eat today?”

“Did you?” Amani called.

“Amani this isn’t about me-”

“Don’t make me come over there.”

“...fine. I didn’t eat. Maeve?”

She chewed her lower lip as he helped her upright. He reached over her to grab the lactucarium bottle. He handed it to her as she let go of her lip. “Well, no. I haven’t had the time and it...slipped my mind.”

“...like I said, you’re tiny enough as it is.”

“Like you can talk.”

“Tell him!”

“Shut up!” they both yelled.

All three of them stared at one another before laughing. The topic of eating all but forgotten.

“Okay Amani, this stuff is fucking nasty as hell, but it helps. I don’t have it in pill form so we’ll make due.” She poured a little of the lactucarium onto a spoon, and held it up to Amani.

“What you’re gonna feed it to- ACK!” She shoved the spoon in Amani’s mouth, watching her grumble and swallow the medicine.

Amani gagged. “Oh fucking shit yuck.”

“Oh yes. And the aftertaste is worse.” She set the spoon down, untying her bloodied apron and using it to pick up her bloody tools and the knife. She watched the woman guzzle down the water she brought with a chuckle. “See?”

“Lucas you chose to be friends with a sadist,” Amani moaned, pretending to swoon. “She’s gonna kill me!”

“Keep up the dramatics and I just might.”

“I really hope this means you two are getting along.”

“Hmm I dunno. Check in tomorrow.”

Amani snorted. “So maybe she isn’t as big of a bitch as I thought.”

“That’s sweet of you.” She dumped the bloodied tools onto a tray to be cleaned later. She folded the stick apron over one arm. She had blood on her cheek. Wonderful. “But I wouldn’t say that assessment was wrong.”

“You two are the worst,” Lucas groaned.

“Says the person who didn’t eat,” Amani replied.

“Neither did Maeve!”

“Well I’m not close enough to her to lecture her!”

He glared at Maeve who was looking very smug. “She’s not wrong Lucas dear. You also have a harder job than I do in terms of physical labor.”

“...you had to hold down Amani.”

“Who was being a pain.”

“Hey! I am right here!”

He snorted. “Okay that is fair. Is there anything I need to do with her stitches?”

“I’d give you aloe to put over it but a certain someone.” A man named Sam. One of her...infamous regulars. “Used up the rest of my fucking aloe.”

He shifted at her tone. “...and you...?”

“Well other than chasing him out of my clinic with a bone saw due to being a pain in my ass, using up the rest of the aloe plant I had. Which was a lot. And then taking candy I save for kids? Nothing.”

“...you chased him out with a bone saw?”

“Why yes I did.” She fluffed her ponytail. “So with Amani, you should keep her in bed for a little bit while she heals. Thanks to the healing spell it shouldn’t be too long. Reopening the stitches means coming back to me though and we certainly don’t want that.”

“Uh Doc.”

“...yes?”

“I think Lucas is still hung up on the fact you chased someone out with a saw.”

“Well he’d better bring his head back down to Earth or you two will be next. Do you have aloe, or can you get any?”

“Oh yeah! I grow it.”

“Oh wonderful! Just put that on your stitches to help with your skin. Honey is a wonderful antibiotic, to keep your wound from being infected. I’d say no heavy drinking or going out for at least a few days. Four at most.”

“Four days?”

“I’m sure you’ll survive.”

“...barely.”

“Come back here in a few days and if I give you the okay, go wild.”

“No more nasty pain medicine?”

“Unless the pain gets bad, no.” She looked at Lucas, who looked like he was trying to do a difficult math problem. It made her laugh. “You should take her home to get some sleep.”

He snapped out of his stupor. “And what about you?”

“Well currently, closed.”

“You should eat something.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

“...god that was so fucking awkward. Can I go home to die in peace?”

“You aren’t dying.”

“I dunno that stuff your little fairy, as you’ve called her, might just do me in.”

She felt her cheeks warm. He talked about her? She knew Amani mentioned it before but not it was really sinking in. “Oh don’t be dramatic. It was only pain medicine.”

She helped him get Amani up off the table, the woman muttering about how she was fine and that she could walk fine.

“Thank you, Maeve,” he whispered when they got to the door.

“It was no trouble.”

“Sorry we came so late.”

“I’m used to it.”

“You should get some sleep for that headache.”

“I think I can handle it,” she said with a smile. “You take care of Amani now. Oh and Lucas!” He turned around. “Eat something. Please. It’s not healthy to do the amount of labor you do on an empty stomach.”

“I...okay.”

“...bootlicker,” Amani muttered. He shoved her. “Hey! I’m injured!”

“When you’re better you can’t use that and then you’ll get it,” he muttered, making Maeve smile.

She waved them off, leaning against the clinic doorframe.

Lucas turned around to look at her, shooting her a small and a two fingered salute.

‘See you later, Thumbelina.’ he mouthed, making something...spark at her skin as she blushed.

Oh no.

#the arcana #the arcana game #my writing #maeve #lucas #maeve x lucas #maevas #hmmm amani meeting #I gave her and Maeve a sibling dynamic #on accident but still #here is this mess #slowly we come to my excitement #the best writing I have done #slowly #soooooon

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