#I did the lighting and background while mildly intoxicated

[nsuyeula]

- This night is sparkling, don't you let it go -

An full body illustration based on a scene in my fic Enchanted from Nace Appreciation Week 2022. I’ve been experimenting drawing with no use of a line art as well as using multiple references.

[4dtk]

hi hiiii! could i request movie night with doyoung where things start off sweet but then escalate from there?? perhaps with some undertones of switch!doyoung and switch!reader + him being into breathplay and/or hands caressing the other’s neck (both giving and receiving) if possible <33 btw i love your writing!!

thank u for the kind words! big kudos to this pdf i read up about regarding breath play - hope it's okay anon <3

warnings: fingering, oral (m receiving), breeding kink, unprotected sex, breath play (f and m receiving), riding, praise, vaginal penetration

NSFW UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DNI.

your giggles are swallowed by doyoung as he playfully lays kisses on your lips, distracting you from the movie that’s currently playing. you can feel the smile on your skin as his lips trail down to your neck, lingering there as he stares daggers at the movie that he put on. it’s almost amusing to see, but you yourself can’t help but get intrigued by the plot that you don’t notice doyoung’s hand curling into the familiar grip he usually has on your thigh.

you sigh softly when his fingers curl around your neck, feeling around the skin there, caressing the soft, newly washed skin with care that you wouldn’t have guessed those same fingers were the ones to send you into oblivion.

just with doyoung’s chest against your back, you can feel your focus on the movie dwindling bit by bit. the longer he sucks hickeys into your neck and muffles your whimpers with his mouth, the harder you’re finding it to keep your vision and head clear to understand why the protagonist had almost killed her significant other. the clarity in your mind is overtaken by your need to have all of your boyfriend on you, pushing up against him even more before your legs widen.

doyoung hums contently, hand on your neck tightening and loosening that gives you the high. he knows where to place his thumb, cutting off and letting you regain your airflow in a dizzying cycle of repetition. “like that, huh?” you nod against his hand which continues to do just that, the movie becoming mere background noise at this point. with his other, he trails it down to your already spread legs, slipping in between your loose shorts that hardly hid your underwear.

it was a wonder the other members hadn’t mentioned anything yet.

“three seconds, baby, you ready? you know our safe word?” doyoung mumbles in your neck, putting light kisses onto the skin there. gently, his stubborn finger only draws light circles against your pulsating clit, teasing the bundle of nerves under the fabric which already had a dark, wet patch. a chorus of mhm’s and yea’s escape your lips, under the guise of pleasure from his hands alone.

all at once, you gasp upon the immense pressure his fingers apply to your clit, ministrations increasing tenfold while he held your carotids under the pads of his digits for the time he promised. your breaths come out short, a strangled moan escaping once the oxygen rushes back to your brain like a drug, praise falling from doyoung’s lips only spiral you further into his grasp. it’s not that you’d mind.

“good girl,” doyoung grins, rewarding you with a sweet kiss. the movie’s definitely forgotten now, the faint reflection of the laptop showing the filthy way your panties soak through more and more with each move of his fingers. within a swift second, your underwear is swiped to the side to accommodate his fingers where he slips his middle finger in loosely. the other wraps around your tit, where your nipples poke through your shirt — perked up and perfect all for him.

you hum lowly into his embrace, wrapped up all in him that you melt more and more into how his fingers sink into you, collecting your slick as he pumps his hand slowly. you’re not all that impatient, but you could do better with him speeding up a little. “hand sore?” there’s a smirk against your shoulder before he thrusts a little roughly into your sopping cunt, drawing out a lewd mewl from your throat. the torture continues on, where you can hear yourself, the sounds practically bouncing off the small room of the dorms.

“c’mon honey, taste yourself on my fingers.”

you obediently open your mouth, masking your disappointment at the emptiness while taking his finger into your mouth that’s wet from your arousal. everything’s incredibly slow and intimate and gentle, like how doyoung… sometimes is. you can’t get this new version of him out of your head, though, tender in his touches, but sultry in his words.

you can compare it to the maple syrup you had this morning, to the sugary kisses you shared in the bathroom, or even the tempting bead of pre-cum leaking from his tip. the taste wasn’t so much, but you didn’t mind the liquid lingering on your tongue. your own pleasure’s put to the side when you’d pulled down his briefs earlier, ignoring the throbbing need to be touched. you couldn’t just leave your baby hanging, anyway.

“hhaah... fuuuck…” your tongue swirls around his tip like a lollipop, providing just the tease that he’s done to you before. slowly, you lower your mouth onto his length which prompts a hand to shoot up to your head of hair, clutching onto it to guide your head up and down. you let doyoung control the pace, who can’t help but call your name like a prayer as your cavern sucks him in so well just like your cunt does.

hands wandering seem to be the standard for you, tangling in his hair when you’re locking lips. travelling over his stomach when your cuddling. even now, you can’t keep your hands locked in one place, going over his thighs in sensual circles that’s interrupted by the waist band of his briefs. you don’t mind, relaxing your jaw to take in more of him until his cock meets the back of your throat.

doyoung groans at that. a switch goes off in him — he decides that he can’t wait to feel you around him, beckoning with a tilt of head.

“bet you’re still tight, even though we fucked this afternoon.” you giggle at that, waiting for him to shrug off the last of his briefs before sinking down onto him with ease with a spread of your pussy lips. even with your juices, you can’t help but let out a whine at the satisfying stretch, before you start rocking your hips.

he takes the back seat, an arm behind his head while the other holds your hips, squeezing the meat of your ass. your hands are ambitious again, travelling up the expanse of his slim, pale body before they land on his neck. the tables aren’t turned over entirely, but you know what doyoung gives, he likes to receive it too. locating his carotids like he’s taught you, your thumb presses mildly onto the side of his neck.

“that feel good?” his mewls are all you can make out.

doyoung’s eyes roll back and you almost halt your hips for a moment to enjoy to sight, but the way his dick moves against your gummy walls is just too gratifying that you can’t bring yourself to stop. you’re mindful of the lewd noises coming from in between your thighs, although it only fuels your need to feel him drilling into you faster, and so you’re taking the reigns, setting the pace.

there’s the continuous routine of grind, squeeze, whine that it comes natural to you after a few times, although the last one didn’t really matter in that intoxicating cycle. “god, your cock feels so good- shit…” doyoung’s whimpers only spur you on, with the constant release and cut-off of oxygen that provides him with the unexpected jerk of his hips. soon you’re meeting his hips with yours.

“should i c-cum in you? wanna be… ahn- full of my cum?” doyoung manages to get out through the blur of pleasure, eyes fixating on the way your mouth drips with drool and his pre-cum. you’re filled up to the brim, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix that you shiver against his thighs. “you’re not- fuck- answering me baby,” the hand on his neck goes limp as the knot in your stomach tightens and tightens, barely answering his question with a pathetic nod.

“yes… yes, please-“ you’re not even sure what you’re begging for at this point but you can’t complain when doyoung spills his seed deep into your pussy, filling you up even when his thrusts turn sloppy. he fucks you thoroughly, bringing on your own orgasm as you convulse around him, twitching violently on his cock while your throat suffers from the last bit of your needy moans.

the sensitivity hurts, but you still find yourself letting a choked moan escape when doyoung snaps his hips back into your clenching hole that makes a satisfying pap!, stuffing the cum that’s leaking back into you. “you did so well.” you smile weakly; the words has both your heart and pussy fluttering at the praise, knowing you’re in for another round when he flips you over with newfound strength. “but now i’ll take over.”

[peaceoutofthepieces]

chapter 34 (part I)

Fake Making-It

Social Media AU

previous chapter

sorry part II won’t come until tomorrow (maybe not even then 😅) and it’s not proofread, so sorry for any mistakes

~^~

Robbe steps out onto the back porch and curses under his breath, quickly pulling on his brown jacket. The night air is cool and crisp and its wind is biting, and he tucks his hands into his pockets in an attempt to save them. Once he’s safely wrapped up, he looks around and instantly lights on a shock of bleached hair.

Sander.

Robbe stares at him and swallows. Fuck.

He begins to turn around to head back inside, but then Sander looks over his shoulder. His eyes light up when he catches sight of Robbe, and then he smiles, and Robbe stomps down the flames in his belly and goes to join him.

“Hi,” he says. “Have you been out here long?”

Sander shakes his head. “Maybe about ten minutes?” He flicks his gaze over Robbe. “Everything okay?”

Robbe tries not to squirm. “Yeah, just needed some fresh air. I was starting to sweat in there.”

Sander huffs, looking back out in front of himself. “Shouldn’t take long to cool down out here.”

That’s probably debatable, Robbe thinks. The air had chilled him instantly, but the sweat’s starting up again. His face feels too hot, even as wind whips at his cheeks and nose and numbs them. He hasn’t dragged his eyes off Sander. He can’t. Even as he tells himself this is what he’d been trying to avoid, his body won’t respond to his brain. It’s listening to his heart instead, and his heart’s focus is all on Sander. He wasn’t supposed to be alone with him. That was the one goal, the one deal he agreed on with Jens. Neither of them were to be alone with Sander or Lucas.

But, well, Jens had been tipsy and dancing (badly) with a group of people, and Lucas had been talking to a separate group in a whole other area of the room, so at least Robbe hadn’t left them alone together. Plus, he hadn’t gone looking for Sander, and he’d asked Jens if he wanted to come outside with him, so this is really not his fault.

He’s knocked out of his daze when Sander nudges him. His cheeks flush at the amused tilt to Sander’s lips, the raised brow. It takes him a moment to realise Sander is holding the joint out towards him in offering. He takes it gingerly, with trembly fingers, telling himself he’s only so shaky because of the cold. The long drag he takes warms him up slightly, but it’s less because of the weed and the smoke and more because he’s thinking Sander’s lips were just here. It’s much more intoxicating.

He shoves the thought away, reminding himself why he can’t have any of that, even as he licks his lips and chases the taste. God, he’s a mess. Jens would take this opportunity to remind him that he’s a mess and tell him to get it together. Sander’s fingers brush against his as he takes the joint back and sparks shoot up Robbe’s arm.

He swallows and curls his arms around his stomach, turning to face out along with Sander. There’s a full smoking area out here, a patio with a few tables and stools with people clustered around them, talking and laughing, all in various states of inebriation. It allows Robbe to suck in a breath and steady himself. He isn’t alone with Sander, not really. He should just relax.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sander asks.

Robbe hadn’t even realised the other man was looking at him, but he feels his eyes now, heavy and warm. He shifts his weight and aims for a smile. “Yeah, I’m good. Are you?”

Sander nods, shrugs. “It’s just a lot, in there.”

“You mean Aaron’s a lot?” He raises a brow. Moyo and Aaron had both been a little too excited to meet Sander and Lucas, but Aaron had been the one to go starstruck before Sander even opened his mouth. Robbe doesn’t blame him—he can relate.

Sander laughs. “Nah, Aaron’s cool. Everyone is. There’s just a lot of everyone.”

Robbe purses his lips and nods. That, he understands.

“Jens seems better, though,” Sander adds. “Today went well.”

“Yeah, everything’s great so far,” Robbe agrees. “I think he’s mostly just glad the waiting and secrecy is over, you know? Now it’s out there and he can actually talk about it and not have to be so hidden.”

Sander’s expression shutters, and then flickers right back into a smile as he nods. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Robbe supposes he imagined the blip. He returns the smile and leans against the railing next to Sander. A riot kicks up in his stomach as their shoulders brush, his heart hitches, his breath flutters, no, that’s not right, everything is backwards and upside down and inside out and it’s insane. He doesn’t know how it works like this. He doesn’t know what cruel twist of the universe decided on this fate, in which he could be brought to his knees by a nonexistent touch by someone he can never have. There’s no explanation for the strength and extent of his feelings for this person he really barely even knows. A month and a half they’ve known each other, and Sander has completely taken over his brain and heart without even trying.

He would probably run if he knew. No, he would let Robbe down gently, but in a mildly bewildered state of well, you know I’m already taken.

Robbe has spent many nights turning this exact fact over and over in his head, hurting and doubting. Jens’s words keep ringing in his head. He doesn’t know Lucas well enough, really, but does Sander seem happy? Robbe can’t be sure. He doesn’t know him well enough, either. He isn’t allowed to.

“It feels weird, being around you without the excuse of work,” Sander mumbles, flicking the end of the joint and watching a sprinkling of ashes fall to the ground. “I didn’t know if it could be like this. If we’d ever be anything more than just work colleagues.”

The admission makes it seem like he’d thought about it quite extensively. Robbe swallows, doesn’t understand, feels something kick in his stomach again anyway. Their shoulders are pressed together now. “I like to at least consider us friends,” he says, even though the word burns up his throat and drips off his tongue like acid. In an attempt to sound lighter, he adds, “I only tell true friends my darkest secrets, after all.”

Sander huffs, turning his head to grin at him. Robbe’s breath leaves him in a rush. “I’d hardly call ‘Romeo and Juliet’ a darkest secret. It’s quite cute, if you ask me,” Sander says, grin gone teasing, and fuck, Robbe is so gone.

“Good thing no one did,” Robbe quips, pointedly, stamping out the flames once more. His attempts are rendered pointless in the face of Sander’s laughter, loud and husky, breath floating out in plumes with the force of it.

“I thought you’d be dancing around in there,” Robbe admits, doesn’t add with Lucas. “I thought I heard a Bowie track earlier.”

“Ah, been studying up have we?” Sander muses, eyes brightening. As if it’s not enough to have them reflecting the moon and the stars, the entire night sky held captive in him, and likely the entire universe by Robbe’s guess.

“A little. Bowie’s really good background music, surprisingly.”

Sander gasps and places his free hand over his heart, mock offended. “Bowie is so much more than background music.”

“Oh please,” Robbe scoffs. “Don’t try to tell me he isn’t the background soundtrack to your whole life.”

Sander laughs, again, and bumps Robbe’s shoulder with his own as he shakes his head. It feels so easy, too easy. It’s too much and Robbe can’t get enough of it.

A silence overtakes them, and he stares openly at Sander as Sander stares pensively at the ground. He watches as Sander flicks the cigarette again and then turns to face him. “I wanted to talk to you about something,” Sander says, at the same time Robbe blurts, “Do you want to get out of here?”

Sander blinks.

Robbe flushes. “I mean, uh, I thought you might want to go for a walk, or something,” he says sheepishly, voice an octave too high. “Instead of going back inside. Just, along the Scheldt, or something. But we can also go back in if you want. Or I mean I can just leave you to it. You came out here for a breather.”

“I think you’re the one who needs to breathe,” Sander points out, and his accompanying laugh is quiet and breathy. Robbe is already swooning, and then Sander smiles at him again. “A walk sounds good. You’re warm enough?”

Robbe nods, biting his lip as he feels his cheeks grow even warmer. He tilts his head back towards the bar. “Walk and talk, then?”

They slip back inside and through the throng, winding around small clusters of people to make their way to the front door. Robbe catches sight of Jens in the crowd, talking animatedly with Moyo, and breathes a small sigh of relief. He isn’t breaking their deal, because he isn’t leaving Jens alone with Lucas.

And, well, Jens didn’t say anything about actively instigating alone time. He’d just said he wouldn’t leave Robbe alone with Sander, but Robbe is leaving alone with Sander, which is different.

Right?

The air is chilly when they step outside again—Robbe had stopped noticing while he was so close to Sander. Now, though, walking down the street with the wind whipping at his cheeks, he understands why Sander had asked if he was warm enough. He isn’t anymore. But he’s not going to tell Sander that and risk sending them back, or worse, having to explain.

They’re silent on the short trek towards the Scheldt, where it’s even colder. Robbe curls his hands in his pockets and hugs his jacket tighter around himself. Sander slows as they walk along the water, unsure of what the plan is and letting Robbe take the lead. Robbe knows they’re aren’t many options beyond walking a little further and then turning around. Instead he goes and leans against the wall and smiles when Sander joins him, pressed shoulder to shoulder like before.

Robbe nods at the building across the water. “You know they had like a billboard sign of Jens up there when he first released his music?”

Sander raises his brows. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, it was fucking crazy. I mean you could make it out clearly from here. Not that easily, but still.”

Robbe still remembers it vividly, how gobsmacked Jens had been and how many jokes Moyo had cracked. He remembers people requesting photos with Jens with the billboard in the background. Sander seems to be picturing it, eyes flicking over the now-blank space. Then he turns to Robbe with a somewhat cheeky smile. “You should be on one of these buildings, too.”

Robbe snorts, surprised. “I don’t think I’ll ever have a billboard.”

Sander’s smile widens. “Nah, we could just tape you to it. You’ll hang there easily. Just set you up on a chair, get a few rolls of duct tape…” he trails off, raising his brows suggestively.

“I hate that you’ve seen those vlogs,” Robbe groans, covering his face with his hands as he laughs.

“It’s art, Robbe,” Sander mocks. “You can’t diss art.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Sander looks back at the building and hums, tilting his head. He turns to Robbe and holds up his hands, thumb and finger outstretched on each to make a frame in the air. “What about some of Antwerp’s famous graffiti for Antwerp’s famous gay…” He pauses, lost.

“Gay?” Robbe prompts.

“What rhymes with graffiti?”

Robbe laughs. “Shut up.”

“No, listen, I’m serious. Picture it,” Sander waves at the building. “A big mural, right there, in all these intense colours.”

“Rainbow colours.”

Sander snaps his fingers, though he’s biting back a laugh. “Rainbow colours!”

Robbe shakes his head and rolls his eyes slightly, and then they’re both letting out quiet laughs. Sander settles on the wall next to him again, and a warmth radiates all along his side where they’re closest. He resists the urge to press closer and lets them settle into a peaceful silence. He only breaks it when he remembers their conversation from before, and then he looks at Sander curiously. “So what did you want to talk about?”

“Oh.” Sander opens his mouth and then closes it again, hesitating. “It’s nothing.”

Robbe squints at him, skeptical. “You sure?” Sander bites his lip, glancing out over the Scheldt, and Robbe knocks their shoulders together. “Hey, whatever it is, you can talk to me about it.”

“No, it’s just,” Sander hesitates, seeming to struggle with finding the words. He looks at Robbe, and his gaze is intense and intent, and it gives Robbe no insight to what this is about. Sander eventually turns away again and simply shakes his head. “I’m just wondering what happens, after the album and everything comes out.”

“Oh.”

Sander hesitates again, shooting him a glance. “I mean, I don’t want to stop working with you guys. It’s been a lot of fun, you know? But I guess I’ll have served my purpose by then.”

“It’s not like we’re tired of you,” Robbe protests, smiling slightly, even as he desperately wracks his brain. He can’t voice his heart’s loud protests at the thought of Sander leaving. “Besides, Lucas still has all his stuff to do, and you’re not just going to head off without him, right?”

Sander’s shoulders tuck up to his ears, and his smile seems almost sad. “Right,” he agrees.

Robbe can tell that there’s something off. It’s obvious that something is being withheld, but he has no idea what it is. Sander doesn’t seem to want to say anything else, but the mood has certainly dropped. Robbe feels a frown take over even as he keeps his voice light. “We should probably get back.”

He almost thinks Sander is going to argue, but he simply smiles and nods. “Yeah. I hope Jens didn’t need any bodyguards.”

“I’m sure he’s fine.” At least, Robbe hopes he is. “And it was nice to talk, right?”

Sander’s smile turns a little more genuine. “Always.”

~^~

tag list: @allthewayornowayy @wedarkacademia @lockerfivethreefive @yellowballoon @gucciboner @nora-keinwitz @moonskam @painfully-oblivious @zoenneforever @akucecilia @hischbabe @evaksobbe @alittleemo @boring-side-effect @franboos @debussyatmidnight

part II

[imaginesmai]

Mob!Tom Holland - Fawn (8)

Shout out for the anon who asked me about college reader x Tom, please answer my question!

This is inspired by  Don’t play with fire , @peaceisadirtyword​. It’s an amazing Ivar fic, take a look if you have time! Previous parts  in the general summary. Click here to read the previous parts!

Plot: The options are clear now; you either tell Tom the truth and risk him hating you, or you don’t and you keep putting him in danger. And more than ever, you’re sure you want what’s best for Tom.

“Lisa, I know you’re staring” you broke the silence, not bothering to turn around and watch her pretend she hadn’t been looking. “Quit it already, please”

The photocopier beeped in the background, finishing another round of blueprints for your last project. You were still looking at them in the computer, and had been doing so for at least an hour. It was hard to focus when half of your face was throbbing constantly and you were afraid that the slightest movement would tear the stiches on your forehead. The emergency doctor said that you might find some difficulties in focusing with the concussion, and he hadn’t been wrong.

“I’m not staring” Lisa scoffed from her spot behind you. “I was just – looking over there”

“To the wall or to the empty desks?” you scoffed. “I can feel you staring. Stop”

“Well, if I was staring, which I’m not, it wouldn’t be my fault” you heard the wheeled chair moving, and Lisa appeared on your right. “You’ve cracked your head open, half of your face is black and purple, and you won’t tell me why. I have reasons”

“And I have already told you that I fell down the stairs yesterday”

The lie felt sour on your tongue, the same way as when you had said it in front of the doctor last night. The middle aged man that had been in charge of the emergency room had given you a pointed glare, but hadn’t argued when stitching your head or applying some sticky cream on your cheek.

He had ignored the tear tracks on your face and you guessed it had to do with Richard specifically asking for him when you walked past the hospital’s door. Your boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, had sat with you out of pure fear of you saying anything, and then had left you on your house without an apology.

You had spent the whole night awake staring at the ceiling, too hurt to cry and too shocked to do anything else. You tried to say to yourself that it hadn’t been Richard’s intention, that he had only wanted to slap you – your head hitting the counter and needing ten stitches wasn’t his fault. But not even your naïve self could believe it anymore.

“I just want to help, if I can” Lisa propped up against your table, leaning her head on her elbows and looking at you. “I’m not – good at friends, and stuff. But you’re my friend, and friends help each other, right?”

“Of course we’re friends” you turned to look at her and chose to ignore the side glance she gave to the other side of your face. “But really, it was just an accident. Nothing more”

“But if you were having any problems, you would tell me, right?”

“Why do you say that?” you frowned. Lisa shuddered and looked behind you, to the big window that lead to the street. She was quiet for a while, and you remembered that Lisa was much more intelligent that people gave her credit for. “Lisa”

“I just – I’ve met guys like Richard before, and they are all the same” she shrugged again, not meeting your eyes. “They are all fancy smiles and sweet kisses until you do something they don’t like and they become, you know, who they really are”

You looked at the girl in front of you and wondered what had happened in her life to make her say that. It occurred to you that you were mildly lucky – after all, it had only been Richard. But she talked as if she had met a lot of ‘Richard’s in her life. You were dying to ask her what she meant by that, but with a quick squeeze on your shoulder and a sad smile, she wheeled the chair back to her place and started typing in the computer. There were other two girls and a boy on the studio, all of them unaware of your conversation; just two people who had started hanging out together lately.

None of them had asked for your face, and that meant that Lisa was far away from the idea you first had of her. You turned back to your work with a small, painful smile. If something good had come out of Richard, it was your friendship with her.

Your mind went on her own accord to the other good thing, to Tom. You hadn’t talked to him since yesterday, and you really hoped not running into him any times soon. One thing was the small bruise you had had on your cheek because of the incident with Claudio, and the other was your face because of Richard. And if he had shot coldblooded to those men, you didn’t want to know what would happen to Richard.

Or more like, you didn’t want to know what would happen to you once he found out the whole truth. The poor excuse about not really doing it willingly or not giving information was becoming old, and the more time it went by, the more guilty you felt.

You were brought out of your thoughts when your phone vibrated in your desk, the screen lighted up. Your breath picked up when a message appeared, afraid it was Richard. But then you picked up the phone and saw the message.

Tom H  [10:13]: Hey fawn

Your mouth fell open when you opened the conversation and saw Tom’s contact staring back at you. His photo was some weird selfie with that blonde bartender, Harrison, you had met the first night, although you couldn’t see them right. Still in a haze, you clicked on the contact info and started at the photo. Tom Holland wasn’t the scary mobster that had shot men without blinking, but a boy with squeezed eyes, a big smile and with a cap backwards, leaning on Harrison’s shoulder.

You went back to the conversation and saw that Tom had sent himself a message when you had given him your phone; not that you had had time to think about it.

Tom H [10:13]: Hope you’re not mad? Cause I’m freaking like a teenager whose crush hasn’t texted him after a fight

You snorted a laugh and quickly covered it with your hand, not wanting anyone in your business. Lisa had gone to the other side of the room to make a phone call, and one of the girls was attending someone. Not seeing any risks, you made yourself comfortable and took the phone with both of your hands.

Y/N [10:13]: should I be?

Tom H [10:14]: Is that a tricky question? I’m not good at this things

Y/N [10:14]: no, I’m not mad 😂

Y/N [10:14]: shouldn’t you be doing something mobsty? Like stealing candies from little kids

Tom H [10:14]: I’m the type of guy who gives them, sorry to disappoint

Tom H  [10:14]: omg that sounded so bad

Tom H [10:14]: How do you delete a message

Y/N [10:14]: too late, I’m reporting it to the police

Y/N [10:14]: if any FBI agent is reading this pls arrest him

Tom H [10:15]: Wouldn’t you like to see me in handcuffs, fawn

You bit your lip as you thought of an answer, momentarily forgetting the throbbing of your face. It was easy, when all that occupied your mind was Tom. Tom, and his cheeky smile that you could almost see through the phone. Tom, and his intoxicating smell that you could never get tired of. Tom, and the warm fuzzy feeling you got whenever you were with him.

Conversation flowed quickly easily between the two of you, with lots of teasing, jokes and smiles. It helped you to forget about Richard, as it always happened when you were with him. Each message that Tom sent you made you reaffirm in your decision of the previous night; you had to cut off any kind of contact with Richard, had to keep him as far away as you could from you, and maybe ask Tom if he would like to catch coffee with you.

The last part, in some way, made your whole day.

-

Lisa had made her way to you once more, that time much more less discreet. On your lunch break, which you had almost missed talking to Tom and not doing any work at all, she had occupied your desk at the café on the other side of the street. It had been the only free desk, so with a resigned sigh that showed that you didn’t want to, you sat by her side. Immediately, and not even looking a bit ashamed, she folded everything she had been ‘working’ on and put her laptop away on her bag. Which was an horrible bright yellow colour, and was hard to ignore from the other side of the desk.

You ordered your usual lunch package; a sandwich, an apple and a water bottle, using the discount people on your business had from proximity. She kept quiet as Rosie, the young girl who served you, asked you about your life in general. She gave your bruise a discreet glance, and you dismissed her by saying it had been your clumsy self. Rosie didn’t say anything else, and left to serve other tables after a few minutes.

Just as you were about to take the first bite of your sandwich, Lisa opened her mouth of non-ending comments.

“Who have you been texting all morning?” Lisa propped her elbows on the desk, and raised a brow. “Because I’ve never seen you so distracted before. Was it a lover I should know about? Finally dumped Richard and you didn’t tell me?”

If anything, what she said only made you feel worse. It wasn’t as if she was just telling you that she knew Richard had done it, but it still hit close home. You weren’t talking to a new lover, but to Tom. Although you didn’t know where did you stand with him, because what you felt when you were with him wasn’t the same as when you were with a friend.

You wondered what was the answer to the last question. Technically, the last words you had said to him were that you wanted to break up, and you still held your ground – you doubted you were going to change it. But that inner voice that had been your loyal friend since you met Tom told you that things with Richard weren’t over yet.

“Uh, I was just texting Tom” you shrugged. Lisa already knew that you talked with him, and that you knew she wouldn’t judge you for it.

“Which question are you answering?” she chuckled, grabbing a piece of her own pasta plate.

“You know which one, Lisa” you said, not really in the mood of her teasing.

Your relationship with Lisa had changed drastically, and one thing that you had improved was in communicating. She had adapted to your way of living and you had adapted to her outgoing behaviour. So she didn’t say anything else about it, choosing only to nod and take another bite. The café wasn’t silent at all, but all you could think were your thoughts.

You were more than aware of the gravity of the situation with Richard, and you knew that he shouldn’t have done it. That, not even counting what he made you do by going to the club, his behaviour was inexcusable. You ate your sandwich in silence, while Lisa made her occasional remark, as if she was afraid of peace. Even if you wanted to think about something else, it was hard when every bite you took made your face ache.

After you had eaten half of your sandwich and had decided that you wouldn’t have any other bite without throwing up, you made your decision. You left it on the trail and used the napkin. Lisa turned to look at you, as if she knew you were going to say something important. You looked at her briefly and then went back to tear the piece of paper in small pieces, wanting to have something in your hands while you said it.

“It was Richard” you muttered, even knowing no one could hear you. You heard Lisa leaving her fork and moving her chair closer. Her hand rested against your shoulder and she squeezed it, but you didn’t look. “I wanted to break up with him yesterday, and he got – it was as if he had gone mad. Shouting, a-and denying it. We had just had an argument. I told him that… he had gone too far, and he just, uh, backhanded me. I fell, hit my head open and he drove to the hospital in silence. Made sure I didn’t say anything and left. And… he still hasn’t said anything, has keys to my house and – I don’t know what to do”

The confession felt like a rush of fresh air, as if you had taken a weight off your chest. Lisa’s hand was still on your shoulder, probably thinking about the possibilities you had thought about the previous night. No calling the police because Richard was the chief, not running away because you had nowhere to go so that he wouldn’t find you, and no telling anyone in town because he would know. Her finger adorned with a long fake nail brushed against your skin, and you almost broke down right there.

Saying it out loud made you feel much more hopeless. Richard could be waiting for you in your living room with his slippers and pyjamas, and you couldn’t do anything. Lisa seemed to reach the same conclusion anyone without the rest of the story would have reached.

“You have to tell Tom” Lisa moved the chain again until there was no physical space between the two of you. “He’s really fond of you, and Richard can’t really do anything with the mob. He’ll –“

“I can’t, Lisa” you hitched a breath and swallowed a sob. “I can’t”

“Why? Tom will know what to do. And he hates Richard as much as I do”

You raised your eyes from the trail and looked at her. Lisa held so much hope and compassion in her eyes that you felt horrible. You felt dirty, knowing that in a way you had used her too; or Richard had. What you two had was pure, because you had seen more of what Richard wanted you to see in Lisa. You thought about the pros and cons of telling her the whole story, and you decided you had to start somewhere if you really wanted Richard out of your life.

Pushing your trail away, you started by telling her how he had talked you about the Holland’s about two months ago, the first important file he shared with you. You told her about your ‘mission’ on the club the first night, how you chickened out and Richard left. How he wasn’t afraid of screaming at you that you didn’t love him, and how you didn’t really do anything against Tom. You also told Lisa about Dom, Claudio, and the origin of the argument with Richard about the micros.

“I can’t tell him, Lisa. Even if I didn’t mean to, I basically sold him to the police” you finished, the napkin dissolved in paper dust.

“You didn’t, Y/N” Lisa talked for the first time. “That asshole played with you without you knowing, it’s no one’s fault by him. Tom will understand”

“Yeah, so I go like ‘Hey Tom, I’m sorry to ask, but could you take care of my boyfriend? Yeah, the police’s chief who beat your friend last week and who told me to spy on you’” you scoffed, your eyes stinging. “I can’t tell him, Lisa”

“Richard has slapped your head open, you have to do something” Lisa insisted. “He can’t – oh my god”

The situation was an alley without exits, and both of you knew it. Richard had made sure that your relationship was perfect from the outside, to isolate you from everyone so that if the conflict came, he was always trusted. You were about to ask Lisa if she had any other solution when you were shook violently from your right side, Lisa moving you as if you were a wool doll. It made dark spots appear on your vision, and you actually felt like throwing up the other half of the sandwich. With the emotions and the concussion, it all felt a little dizzy, but you heard Lisa talking again.

“Tom is here. Tom is – Tom is going to enter. Tom Holland – oh my god, Y/N!”

Indeed, you turned around forgetting the dizziness and you saw him scanning the café. He was receiving some weird glances from the people who walked by and recognized them, but he was focused on finding someone. And judging by the conversation you had just remembered, when he asked to get lunch with him and you joked that only if he paid, that someone was you.

The thing was that you hadn’t thought he was serious, since his question was introduced by a ‘what if’ and ended with a ‘what would you say’. But there he was, wearing a black tee with dark blue jeans, hands hidden on its pockets. You didn’t bother in staring anymore and turned around, placing a hand on your bruised face and looking to the other side. You swallowed the hiss and pretended to be leaning against it and looking to the other side.

“Don’t stare. Don’t fucking stare, Lisa” you hissed to her. “He can’t see me. Lisa, please, just look –“

“He has seen me” she whispered, barely moving her lips. “He’s wondering if he knows me from somewhere, if I look away now – hey, Tom!”

You saw her waving behind you, and then heard the bells on the door ringing. The noise at the café, that had stopped when he had been outside, came back. It sounded a little forced, and probably at least 50% percent of the tables were pretending to talk while sneaking glances at him. Panic rose to your throat because there was no way Tom believed it was just a hard hit from falling down the stairs, but you couldn’t think of anything better.

You heard every single ‘he’s coming now, he’s looking at you’ Lisa mumbled until a shadow covered what you were looking at, the corner of the desk. Tom still couldn’t see you, since you weren’t looking at him and your face was hidden in your hand. But as soon as he talked you would have to move, which was too soon for you liking.

“Hey f – Y/N” Tom greeted you as usual, although your name felt weird on his lips. Your eyes filled with tears involuntarily when you heard his voice, knowing what you had done to him without wanting to. “Lisa, right?”

“Yeah!” Lisa chuckled. “I’m – I’m Lisa. Y/N’s friend”

“And Harry’s” Tom chuckled, and you heard another chair moving. The shadow shifted and you knew he had sat beside you. “I’ve seen you with him a few times”

Lisa and Harry’s relationship was something that you didn’t talk about, by any means. You knew the girl was catching some unknown feelings for the twin, even if most of the times he was getting on her nerves. He was volatile, a prankster and didn’t take anything seriously, but Lisa liked him that way. She chuckled awkwardly and shifted on her chair. So Tom looked to the next person on the table, you, and you felt his kind eyes on your shoulder.

“Not gonna look at –“

Tom cut himself when you turned around, being done with prolonging things that were inevitable. If you had broken up with Richard before or had refused to do the stupid thing in the club, you wouldn’t be there then. So you dropped your hand to your lap and turned around to look at Tom, an attempt of a smile on your face that didn’t match the redness around your eyes.

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[dance-with-sum1]

Mayhem Go Round | Nessa & Nadia

TIMING & LOCATION: The Carnival

PARTIES: @humanmoodring & @dance-with-sum1

SUMMARY: The Not-So-Merry Go Round throws some people around.

TW: None

Nessa just found the Carnival so darn intoxicating! She was usually drawn to places of excitement and reverie, but this was something else! The mimes, though a bit unsettling at first, were a blast. The ferris wheel, you could ride it forever! Not to mention the food and the games! She wondered how many of White Crest’s citizens knew who they were really playing games with, but honestly, she didn’t really care. What the squishers didn’t know would only benefit the fae running the booths. Twirling a bit and inhaling the sweet scent of fatty fried foods, Nessa pondered where to go next.

“You’re up, little lady!” A booming voice rang out behind her and a pair or rough hands pushed her up the small, metal stairs. “W-what? Oh! No, I’m not in line-” Nessa’s eyes went wide when she realized she’d inadvertently entered the line for the Merry Go Round, probably the only ride in the entire place she’d steered clear of. Hooves. Way too many hooves. But they were just plastic! It was fine, she told herself as she shuffled over next to a dark haired woman. “You er- you’d think there would be an age limit for these guys, right?” She chuckled nervously, an out of place look of apprehension written plainly across her face.

The carnival, Nadia had decided, would be a damn good place to do a bit of pickpocketing. Crowds of people were always bumping into each other, getting jostled, and, damn it all, sometimes people just lost their wallets in the process. Really, if she thought about it long enough, Nadia was doing them a favor. These people were just going to waste their money on some cheap carnival ride. They were gonna lose it anyway; she was just making sure the money went towards something worthwhile, like new motorcycle parts or bullets or fine liquor. She’d picked two hundred dollars in cash, three credit cards, and five relatively nice wallets in the few hours she’d been at the carnival. The last time she’d been in a place like this had been in Texas about three years ago, so she bought some cotton candy for old times’ sake. Somehow, as she was walking around, she ended up in line for the Merry Go Round. Not her first choice; she liked thrill rides, things that got her blood pumping. But she was in line, so she figured she might as well stick around. The woman maneuvering beside her, her apprehension both visible on her face and coming off her in waves, didn’t startle Nadia too much, and she smiled at the question. “You’d think,” she said, taking a bite of the cotton candy. “This is kind of kids stuff, but maybe it’s a slow day for the carousel. Looks like we’re the only two people they managed to rope in for a while.” One of the workers motioned them forward.

Nessa took a cautious step forward towards one of the less menacing looking mounts, a small purple donkey. Donkeys were at least a tiny but smaller than horses, but just as strong and just as terrifying. She wondered how humans let their children ride these things without fear, but that was only one of the many mysteries of the squishers. “Yeah! Hah! I guess we get the thing to ourselves!” Yayyyy, she thought. At least only one person would be witness to her sour mood. “I bet it’s a short ride anyway. Kids don’t like sitting in one place for long, right?” Speaking more to herself than the other woman, Nessa clenched her teeth and swung a leg over, settling herself into the saddle. “Sorry you got roped into this with me, but it’s nice to have a riding partner!” Nessa hoped her small joke didn’t fall too flat. Oi, was she out of her element.

Oh. Fuck. Nadia didn’t realize she was supposed to actually get on one of the fake animals. Where were the little seats for parents that these things were supposed to have? That was where she wanted to sit and eat her cotton candy and wait for the ride to end so that she could get back to work. She picked a red horse not too far from her new acquaintance’s donkey. Damn, these fuckers were lifelike. The horse was the size of a real one. It was almost like it was breathing at times. Nadia blinked that thought away, she needed to get some glasses. “Nah, kids don’t like sitting still much. Can’t say I blame them.” She did enjoy the small reprieve, though. Even after six years of getting used to it, emotions were overwhelming, and carnivals were full of just as many negative emotions as they were positive ones. The woman next to her, for instance, though muted (probably not human), was feeling more than a little uncomfortable in their predicament. “No need to apologize, babe,” Nadia said with a smile and a wink. “You seem like pretty good company.”

Nessa squirmed in the saddle, trying to force out one of her signature smiles. “Under normal circumstances I might agree with ya,” she chuckled. Nessa had never ridden any sort of animal before. It simply wasn’t something glaistigs did. Not only was it mildly offensive to ride something that had such similarity to her own anatomy, but the beasts were just terrifying. They were huge, they had weird teeth, they had no regard for clothing or manners. Not to mention they could kill you with one kick if they wanted! But these were fine...they were plaster and fake and just a ride. “Sorry, I’m just not a huge fan of horses...or goats. Or donkeys, as it were,” she nodded down to the obscene creature she was straddling. “Hold on to yer horses, lassies!” The worker yelled in an over-exaggerated southern accent as he slammed the ride into motion. Only it didn’t seem to be working right. The main part of the carousel wasn’t moving, however something was lurching forward.

Damn. This girl really was uncomfortable, wasn’t she? Nadia almost felt bad for her. “Hey, don’t sweat it. At least they’re not real, right?” Merry go rounds were kind of child’s play; nothing really intimidating about a couple of shittily painted animals going around in a circle to carnival music playing in the background. But fears weren’t exactly logical. And this merry go round was pretty fucking weird. Nadia’s horse almost felt like it was breathing. That was… odd, to say the least. And when the worker started the ride. “What the fuck?” Nadia yelped as the horse sprung into action, not the ride. She attempted to grab onto something, but… it wasn’t a real horse. She’d ridden a horse for the first time several years ago, after splurging a bit of money to get the Wild West experience. This machinery underneath her seemed to breathe and move like a real animal, but there was nothing for her to hold onto. She jerked forward and gripped the creature’s neck as tightly as she could. “What the fuck!”

A loud bleat escaped Nessa as she doubled forward, attempting to grasp anything to keep her from falling off and being pummeled by the creature’s plaster hooves. “WHY ARE THEY MOVING IS THIS NORMAL??” She screamed and clenched her eyes shut as if that would erase the horror from happening. Judging by the other woman’s reaction no, this was not how merry go rounds usually worked. “Make it stop!” She squealed at the carnival worker who simply laughed in return. At least the things weren’t running off through the rest of the fair, but it was bad enough just galloping along in circles. “How- do you- stay on?!” Nessa looked desperately at her riding companion who seemed so cool and collected only a few moments before.

Gritting her teeth, Nadia attempted to hold on to the make believe horse for dear life. “They’re, uh, not supposed to move like this, girlie,” she forced out as she scanned the beast quickly. Without a mane or bridle to grasp onto, she simply wrapped her arms around the creature’s plastic neck, feeling its muscles twitch under her hands. She felt dizzy, in a way that wasn’t just from the motions of the merry go round. She felt too light. For a moment, terror gripped her as she thought she was being forced from her body, but the pounding of her heart grounded her. She slumped forward a bit before she tried to fight through whatever fatigue was overcoming her. “Just hold on,” she told her companion, focusing on the other woman’s fear and desperation. She turned her head in time to lock eyes with the carnival worker, memorizing his face, his laugh, his smugness. Something in her eye caused his smile to dim.

Nessa clutched her mount for dear life, her claws protruding slightly as she struggled to stay attached. “That’s the plan!!” The beast below her jumped and jostled and Nessa wondered why on earth anyone in their right mind ever rode these things EVER, and especially why anyone would make a children’s ride out of the terrifying creatures. Though she supposed if this ride was a normal one and not bewitched by some sort of magical nonsense it might be a bit safer and more fun. “Turn this off RIGHT NOW SIR!” She screamed, her high pitched voice not exactly embodying a tone of authority. “This can’t go on forever, can it??” Though the ferris wheel sure had lasted quite a long time...Nessa’s stomach began to turn at the thought of being stuck on this thing for hours. “Oh I think I’m gonna hurl…”

This wasn’t anywhere close to riding a real horse, but Nadia managed to hold on. She felt impossibly weak, like she didn’t have a body again, and she kept feeling herself slip a bit as she tried to stay on the ride. “Why are we moving so fucking fast?” she snarled out. “This is a fucking kids’ ride.” A kids’ ride that was moving far too fast and with machinery that obviously wasn’t normal. This had to be some kind of fae fuckery. Or maybe it was just regular, run of the mill supernatural fuckery. But it was a load of fuckery, this much Nadia was sure of. “Can’t last too long,” she said loudly to her companion. Ugh, her head was spinning faster than the ride. At least her pounding heart was a stabilizer. As long as she could feel it, she knew she was alive. She managed to laugh a bit, higher in pitch than normal and a little hysterical. “If you’re gonna hurl, make sure not to do it in my direction, babe. I don’t wanna join you.”

Nessa groaned and threw the woman a look of desperation. “If I can aim, you got it, love!” The glaistig slammed her head against the plastic neck of the donkey and she let out a small, pained bleat. It was like the damned thing was trying to make this whole ordeal as painful as possible. “This- isn’t- supposed to be- a thrill ride!” Nessa LOVED thrill rides. But she usually knew she was going on one before it happened. After what felt like EONS, the beast below her began to lose steam – or so she thought. Loosening her grip for a millisecond, Nessa unclenched her eyes and looked up at the other woman. “I- I think it’s stopping!” As if on cue, the plastic creature gave a final lurch before screeching to a halt, suddenly devoid of all sense of life and motion. The unexpected standstill threw Nessa forward, over the head of the donkey and flat on her ass in the middle of the ride. Huffing a piece of hair out of her eyes, she could have sworn she heard the beast chuckle at her. “Why I oughta-” she warned at the inanimate object.

One thing was certain: someone was gonna have hell to pay when Nadia got off that ride. “Well, it’s certainly,” she said, her breathing harsh, “thrilling.” It felt like she was clinging to the plastic horse for hours, dizziness frequently causing gaps in her memory. She almost fell off two more times, her grip too weak to hold on. When the horse jerked to a stop, Nadia slammed forward. Still holding on, she managed to slide off the plastic horse. She groaned and placed her head between her knees, trying to stop the spinning and ward off the nausea. “Fuck. I need a minute.” Just a minute, and she was going to get up and kick that fucker who was controlling the damn ride in the ass. And maybe the teeth. Guy was gonna be in some major pain before she was done, though. She looked over to her new friend, who was threatening the purple donkey she’d been held captive by. Nadia laughed a bit. “I think you scared him stiff.” None of the animals were moving, anymore. It was as if they’d never moved in the first place.

Stretching and testing her limbs to make sure no damage was done, Nessa tried to glare at the woman’s joke, but she just couldn’t. A smile slowly spread across her lips and she shook her head, pushing herself up to her feet. “Good. Serves him right!!” She chastised the plaster donkey once more, giving it a final slap for good measure before flinching, just in case it decided to retaliate. “I’m Nessa, by the way. Here,” she offered a steadying hand, leading them quickly over to the exit. This had been by far her least favorite experience with the carnival and she didn’t want to remember the night on such a down note. “I can say with extreme certainty that I will not ever be doing that ride again.” Nessa glared at the carnival worker, keeping his face burned in her memory for a later date. Perhaps a week’s worth of fae pranks would change his tune a bit.

Nadia allowed the other woman to lead her off the ride, her head still spinning and her body feeling a bit too heavy. “I’m Nadia,” she said. Laughing, she added, “Nice to meet you. Wish it was under less stressful circumstances.” She took the time to look at the carnival worker, not unlike Nessa. However, where Nessa had glared, Nadia smiled. Soft, gentle, charming with a little something else. She knew how to read emotions and present emotions adequately through facial expressions and body language while still being unreadable. In animals, the baring of teeth meant danger. The worker’s thoughts were filled with snarling dogs as he looked at her, and his smugness was tinted with a bit of fear. Good. He should be afraid. Nadia looked back at Nessa. “I can safely say that I’ve never been on a carousel like that one, but I don’t think I’m gonna risk anything like that again.” Nessa seemed like a nice person. Cute, bubbly. It wouldn’t hurt Nadia to keep her around. She allowed concern to color her voice as she asked, “You doing alright after all that?”

Nessa took a deep breath and raised her arms in a yoga-like pose, centering herself. The plaster donkey couldn’t hurt her anymore. Or anyone else, if she could get back to it when no one was around. She’d be sure of that. She smiled, the expression flooding every inch of her tiny body. “Yes, I think I’m alright. Now that my feet are firmly on the ground,” she specified. The fae wasn’t adverse to being in the air, but she much preferred to have her hooves connected to the earth. Not only was it safer, it helped her feel truly connected to herself. Oblivious to the viciously sweet smile Nadia gave the worker, Nessa threw her arms around the other woman and trapped her in a quick bear hug. “Thank you so much for not making fun of my stupid little fear. I just- I don’t even like riding real horses.” Her eyes flitted back to the purple monstrosity. “Or half horses, at that.”

Hugs weren’t really Nadia’s thing, but she allowed the other woman to give her one, even offering Nessa a pat or two on the back before she stepped away. “Hey, yeah, don’t sweat it. Lots of people don’t like riding big animals.” She, too, glanced at the ride. “And, after that load of bullshit, I don’t fucking blame them. That’s actually right on up there in my top worst experiences in this town.” She gave Nessa a soft smirk. “The company’s the only thing that made it alright.” That, and the amount of money she’d picked up before getting on the damned contraption. See, Nadia wasn’t aching for money. The opposite, really. But she liked having a surplus, and then a surplus on top of that surplus. And she kind of liked picking pockets. It was an enjoyable pastime, and the risk of getting caught added to it. So, despite the fact that she was going to come back and bust the worker’s head open, she was still in a pretty good mood, if a little lightheaded. “Wanna grab a bite to eat? The ride’s around here seem a little touch and go, but carnival food always kicks some major ass.”

Nessa’s face lit up and she bounced up and down, almost as if she hadn’t just been holding onto the neck of a sentient purple donkey for dear life just a few minutes before. “I’d love to! Have you tried anything in the carnival yet?? I’m a pretty big fan of the funnel cakes, especially if you have them add some of those syrupy strawberries on top! And extra sugar! Oh- and the corndogs! I swear, they’re magical. ” Nessa reached out and snaked her arm through Nadia’s. “It may have been hellish, but it’ll be one hell of a story,” she winked, leading them off towards one of her favorite food booths in the fair.

[all-i-need-is-food-and-fanfics]

What do you want?(4)

length: 2000 words

trigger/warnings:  mention of death, graphic violence, blood(nothing too graphic or explicit yet), curses(because it’s Bakugo)

summary: Kirishima is too good with people and Bakugo it's definitely not worried it's a trap. (Buddy Cop AU)

a/n:  I think by this part you know, check @soyunpochoclin out! :D

also I’m sorry for short update but here you go actual plot, I hope you enjoy it! I hope you are intrigued?? Maybe idk. Anyway thanks for reading <3

<–3rd part - 5th part–>

***

Katsuki was torn between staring at the club and resting his head on the seat of the car, eyes closed, until his breathing became too aggressive and quick and start the cycle again. The microphone was shit, at first, he couldn’t hear nothing but loud music, which admiralty didn’t give any fucking idea of what was going.

It was out of his control if Kirishima got killed it was his fault, not Katsuki’s.

He stood up again. No, that anything had changed from the last time he had glanced at it. It was in a close end street, surrounded by another more tone down bar, a pink motel that could be in a worse state, and a couple of houses that had the light on(because who could be able to sleep the disturbs of music, moans, and drunks in the street?). He laid back.

It’s not like he didn’t trust Kirishima to accomplished his mission. He was the most competent of his partners, but he was also the most stupid of all of them. ‘Saving Katsuki instead of capturing the bad guy’ type of stupid, ´worry about Katsuki’ type of stupid. Kind, type of stupid.

He sat up. Agh.

Kirishima had talked by then, no one had really said anything that matter to them. He didn’t seem any closer to getting any useful information, nor he seemed in danger. In fact, his voice sounded joyous. Kirishima not only had a way with words but people, Katsuki noticed. Kirishima had a trusting air around him, he only had to smile charmingly to get people to purr every bit of information they knew that Katsuki usually had to force out of people.

He only had closed his eyes again when he someone talked to Kirishima. She was close enough for him to hear.

“ ‘Looking for someone sweetheart?” Her voice was disgustingly sweet, slurring words in drunken fashion.

“Actually I was, maybe you could help me…” Bakugo sat back up on Kirishima’s tone.

“Well...handsome…” She laughed messily, it was a moment before she talked again, “What would you give me?” Katsuki’s face twisted, peeved; she was talking right into the microphone, up close her voice silvery and even more unpleasant.

Kirishima laughed, deep and husky, not like Katsuki had ever heard, “It depends on love…” It was ringing right into Katsuki’s ears it was thrilling and intoxicating, “What will you do for me?” It was flirty, almost demanding, more authoritarian than Katsuki had ever heard him use on duty.

Katsuki flinched at loud laugh replacing Kirishima’s until it slightly fades away, “Come with me…”

“Shitty Hair.” Bakugo finally warned, “Don’t fucking do anything stupid.”

“Don’t worry dude, she likes me…” He muttered in his normal stupid voice and by the lack of response the girl didn’t seem to hear.

The music faded in the background. Where were they going?”

Katsuki growled, he was about to talk again but the girl cut him.

“Here we can talk better, don’t ya think?” She sounded increasingly closer, “This is usually closed but I won’t tell if you don’t…” she laughed, and Katsuki rolled his eyes.

“I can imagine people using the back of the club for nothing good.” Kirishima was announcing where he was.

“Dance with me!” There’s a moment of silence with clothing ruffling, so Katsuki assumed Kirishima was actually dancing.

“I’m looking for a friend of mine…” He said carefully, “He likes to come here a lot, and I haven’t seen him for a while maybe you know where he is?..”

“My mother owns this place, I‘m here every night if someone can help you it’s me sweety.” She talked into the microphone again, confirming that they were dancing. Kirishima was lucky. “And who’s this friend of yours that’s so important?” She elongates the so, infantizing it.

“Black hair, fair skin, cover in scars on his mouth, neck and…” he stopped talking, “…arms?” He finished almost doubtful, “Why did you stop?”

She didn’t answer at first, “Dabi?” Suddenly she sounds sober.

“Yeah, you’ve seen him around?” Kirishima kept his voice calm and casual.

“Yeah…you want to know where he is?” Her voice changed again, playful this time.

“Kirishima.” Katsuki doesn’t know why he called him, Kirishima couldn’t answer, “Get out of there.”

“I think I can help you…but you need to trust me…” Her voice was close and quiet.

“Maybe…” Kirishima’s voice was alarmed, and there was some rustling again before there was only static.

“Kirishima!” He tried again, nothing.

It wasn’t a complete thought before Katsuki was swearing loud enough to call for the attention for the people in the street, only giving them enough time to see him enter the club.

He pushed through the crowd of people, as quickly as he was allowed by the sweaty mass. “Fucking Kirishima, if he is not dead I am going to kill him.”

He reached the bar and noticed a closed door next to it. He was about to storm into the room by force when the door opened as he approached it. Kirishima was laughing, looking not dead enough by Katsuki’s standard; his arm around her with her whispering into his ear.

It only took for Ejirou opening his eyes for him to notice Bakugo.

Ejirou looked back to the girl. First, so he didn’t raise any suspicion and second because he didn’t really like the anger etched in Bakugo’s face. He had mild success, the girl peeked and noticed the figure staffing in front of the dancing crowd.

“Another friend of yours?” Kirishima hesitated, “Well you like the grumpy ones, don’t you?” She teased him.

They walked into Bakugo, and he failed completely then. Bakugo was emitting some negative energy through his eyes very much directly at Ejirou. Not ideal. “Well you sure seem to be having fun.” Bakugo was smiling, but nothing of it really sold you he was happy or teasing. He could see why Bakugo wasn’t great at undercover.

“Honestly we could be having a bit more fun,” The girl gave a quick glace to Kirishima, she came back quickly to Katsuki, analyzed him up and down, “I don’t think that’s a possible now though…” She pouted.

“Tsk,” Katsuki clicked his tongue and put his hand inside of his pocket.

“Well, then…” She moved away from Kirishima but took his hand and turned his attention to the bar, “Let’s get something to drink, my treat.”

There were a couple of people asking for the tired bartender attention but once he saw the girl waving at him he immediately lit up. He rested his arms on the table, “What can I do for you Ima?” Friendly, and ready to please.

She let go of Kirishima, “You know what a I like…” Katsuki rolled her eyes, as Ejirou just stood there behind her looking mildly offended.

The bartender laughed at her pout and turned around, Ima called for his attention before he left, “Uh! And whatever my friends want!” She pointed excitedly to both of them.

Kirishima smiled, clearly uncomfortable and asks for a beer as Katsuki judged him for the brand he asks for. He ends up asking for whiskey, with Ejirou judging his decision.

The bartender just smiled kindly and nodded in acknowledgment to both of them before leaving to the other side of the bar to finish Ima’s drink.

Ejirou turned to Bakugo, thankfully he wasn’t looking at him anymore. He was looking around, alarmed of his surroundings Ejirou suspected. ‘Though he didn’t look out of place. Bakugo appeared to be unable to look out of place anywhere. He looked like owned anywhere he went or at least he knew he was doing. It definitely helped that he was styled out of his uniform into normal cloths. He was dressed in a black V neck shirt, showing his collar bones and dark blue slight tight jeans(Ejirou would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy walking behind Bakugo).

“You should be buying me a drink because by the looks of it I won’t gain anything from this,” She was teasing, and there was a shine in her eyes that Ejirou couldn’t quite read. Bakugo didn’t laugh and just rolled his eyes instead.

“Oh come on, he’ll leave if I’ll tell him to…” He walked closer to her, touching her arm, smiling as charming as he could. But the air that was before in between both of them, had dissipated.

Not like Ejirou liked Ima. She was beautiful, long black hair, tanned smooth skin, soft features piercing blue eyes and a charming fun personality that he had a feeling she and Mina would get along but that was the problem she felt too much like a friend. Not that it mattered, he was a good actor either way, or he thought he was until she pushed him away.

“Not necessary, I’m fucking leaving.” He was about to turn around when he heard a loud laugh over the music.

Ima pushed away Kirishima’s hand, “It's found love, I know you don’t like me.” She giggled.

“What?” Kirishima backed away, surprised.

At the moment, the bartender came back with a colorful drink in his hand. “Maybe it’s time for both us to be honest.”

****

“Oh don’t be grumpy Blasty!” Ejirou followed behind Bakugo, who was stamping thought the street back to the car, “I’m sorry I worried you.”

Suddenly he stopped and turn around, “I wasn’t worried!” Bakugo’s expression was bilious, “I just didn’t want you fucking up the mission by getting yourself killed.”

Ejirou took a second to respond, in which Bakugo starting walking again, “Yeah sure, thanks anyway dude!” He caught up to him and threw an arm in Katsuki’s shoulders. He scolded in response but didn’t tense up to the touch. Instead, they walked together to the car until Ejirou let go to get in the car.

Ejirou had noticed that Bakugo preferred driving, he took the keys before Kirishima ever could and the one time he had tried to drive Bakugo had stared at him as if he was stabbing Ejirou in his mind. Ejirou never tried again, and it was nice not having to drive, although staring at the door and lights of the city go by he was getting bored. He turned to Bakugo. He looked tired(which made sense, it was around 2 or 3 am)

“So today was very successful, don’t you think?” He said, his voice breaking some kind of silence spell in the air.

“We didn’t even get the information, just a fucking life story.” He complained, rolling his tongue.

“Oh come on! We got an Allie!” Ejirou smiled, “She’ll give us more information than I ever could!” Bakugo just growled in response, which meant Ejirou was right. He smiled wider.

“She better has something good for us tomorrow,” Katsuki muttered annoyed. Because he was annoyed with the whole situation, he didn’t want nothing to do with the fucking little mermaid and his fucking enchanting voice but he was stuck with the fucking case and this was the best option. Fuck.

“You mean later today….where are we going?” Kirishima had turned again to the window, he looked a little kid when Katsuki was driving.

“To your house, where else idiot?” Katsuki didn’t need to look at Kirishima to know that he was smiling with every sharp tooth showing.

“Awww thanks, Blasty!” Kirishima tried to do the side hug thing again, but now Katsuki was driving and they almost hit a post instead.