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five-rivers · 3 years

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Danger First

Chapter 9

@pocketramblr

Banjo took Hikage to the side while the other ghosts were still wading through their existential crisis.

"Man," he said, "Hikage, bro. You know I love you."

"You do?"

"Like... at least eighty-five percent of the time."

"Ah, continue."

"But next time you think one of us has a secret relative out there, you've got to say something so we don't get blindsided."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"Alright, then. I couldn't help but notice that both Ninth's mother and 'Tomura' share a strong resemblance to Nana."

"... I've changed my mind."

Although Midoriya Inko had abandoned the tech conference as soon as she heard about the attack on the USJ, she, unlike the mist villain, could not teleport. Therefore, Izuku was stuck in the nurse's office even after he had woken up and paramedics had confirmed that his injuries began and ended at bruises and quirk exhaustion. (And a potentially fractured bone in his foot, but that wasn't worth mentioning.)

Sitting next to the police officer with nothing to do was... awkward. Very awkward. His hands itched for his notebooks, but everything they brought to the USJ was evidence, and he hadn't been allowed to go back to the classroom. He wanted to know what happened to his classmates and Mr. Aizawa, who he hadn't seen since he ran away from the plaza and left him with the hand villain, and Mr. Yagi, who had really taken a beating from Nomu. Danger Sense was quiet, relatively speaking, but Float was just waiting to be used and tested.

Plus, he really, really had to talk to Mr. Yagi about that. Loads of his classmates had seen him use Float. How was he supposed to explain having Float right after telling them he probably had a sensory quirk?

Plus, if he got Float, it stood to reason that he'd get all the other One for All users' quirks as well. So he had to figure out how to make Danger Sense, Float, Smokescreen, Blackwhip, and a strength enhancement all look like the same quirk. Which, maybe they were, technically, considering that Monoma had sensed One for All as a single quirk but whatever was going on with the mist villain as multiple quirks...

Point was, One for All definitely functioned as multiple quirks.

Would his friends think he was lying? No, he'd definitely proven Danger Sense existed by predicting, however loosely, the attack.

"Hey, Tamakawa."

Izuku and the officer looked up at one of the detectives who had come to take initial statements. His name was... Tsukauchi, Izuku thought. Mr. Yagi (as Mr. Yagi) was standing behind him.

"I can take it from here. I have a few more questions for Midoriya."

"Yes, sir. Midoriya." He nodded at them as he left the room.

"How are you feeling, Young Midoriya?" asked Mr. Yagi, taking the officer's spot with a slight groan.

"Uh, better than this morning, actually," he said. "But, um, but what about you? That Nomu guy kept, um..." His eyes trailed towards the detective.

"Ah, this is Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa. He's an old friend of mine. He knows... well, just about everything about me."

Izuku nodded slowly. "So, he knows about, um..."

"I know about One for All," said Tsukauchi.

"Oh," said Izuku. He rapidly gathered together his thoughts, trying to decide what the most important piece of information he had to impart was. "Do you know what happened to Mr. Aizawa? And Ingenium?"

That was most definitely not a piece of information. Stupid brain.

"The portal villain, Kurogiri, teleported Aizawa off UA grounds, but he was able to get help quickly after that. Ingenium had some injuries that need a specialist, so he went home. They'll be alright, but they'll probably have to take a few days off."

"Yes," said Tsukauchi, giving Mr. Yagi one of the driest looks Izuku had ever seen. "Because you heroes are so good about that."

"Teaching isn't exactly strenuous, Naomasa."

"Remind me again how you got injured this time."

Mr. Yagi made a face Izuku would have found hilarious under other circumstances. "That's different," he said, plaintively.

"Is it though?"

Mr. Yagi coughed. "Now, Midoriya, my boy... I'm sure you have things you want to talk about... I think I glimpsed you soaring through the air, earlier. Did you unlock the enhancement aspect of One for All?"

"No," said Izuku. "Not exactly."

"Well," said Mr. Yagi. "That's, hm. Certainly something."

"Sorry," said Izuku.

"You have nothing to apologize for, my boy," said Mr. Yagi, patting his knee. "In fact, it's a good thing that you got Float this time. I'd be at a loss about what to do with Smokescreen or Blackwhip. But I'm fairly familiar with my master's quirk, and, well, there's someone else who I should... get back into contact with..." Mr. Yagi force the words out as if they had physically pained him to say.

Which they might have. He did have the whole... coughing... thing. Maybe he was just trying to hold one back?

"Mr. Yagi? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Okay, are you sure?" He wasn't sure if he wanted to bring the next part up if Mr. Yagi wasn't feeling well.

"Yes," said Mr. Yagi. "I just, hm. It's just... history."

Izuku nodded. "So, um. Did you hear Monoma say that the mist guy - Kurogiri? - had multiple quirks, too? Like Nomu?"

The mood plummeted.

"Yes," said Tsukauchi. "He told me, and I told Toshinori. It appears that Kurogiri's warp quirk is actually several different quirks working as one. Merged together, almost."

Izuku nodded. "I was just wondering... One for All can be passed on, so... are there other quirks like that? Like, if the first person with One for All had family members or something? Or..." Izuku trailed off. Mr. Yagi now looked actively ill. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Toshinori," said Tsukauchi, "you mean you didn't tell him already?"

"In my defense, I thought he was extremely dead."

"What- Who are you talking about?"

"My boy... I think it's time to tell you a story of two brothers..."

"So, One for All comes with a built in nemesis? Who may be immortal?"

"That- He's not... It would appear so."

"I am somehow both surprised and not."

"There's one more thing I wanted to ask you about before your mother arrives," said Mr. Yagi.

"Please tell me it's not something worse, like me being a descendant of the guy," requested Izuku, picking the worst, most ridiculous thing he could think of.

Tsukauchi snorted, then covered the noise up with a cough.

"I seriously doubt that All for One could maintain a romantic relationship of any kind," said Mr. Yagi, "and even if you were, it wouldn't really matter. I mean, his own brother hated his guts."

"That's a bit extreme..." murmured Yoichi.

"Considering some of the rants we've gotten you to go on," said En, "it really isn't."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But the rest of it-" Yoichi promptly left to harass Second and Third.

"How can you two be so close and yet so far?" mourned Nana. "How are you so smart and so dumb at the same time?"

"In Ninth's defense," said En, "he doesn't know what All for One looks like."

"Surely he knows what his father looks like. He sees his picture almost every day," said Hikage.

"Admittedly, I could have phrased that better, but are you rubbing that in, or are you serious? I've known you for, like, half a century and I still can't tell."

Despite the example being a joke, Izuku felt much better after hearing that.

"But, no, this subject is relatively neutral and nothing so dramatic. I was hoping to get your permission to tell young Aizawa about One for All."

Izuku opened and closed his mouth several times. "H-huh? Why? And why do you want my permission? You don't need my permission."

"One for All is your quirk, now," said Yagi, "and your secret. It's up to you who knows about it. Outside of an emergency, I suppose. As for why in general..." Mr. Yagi sighed. "There are things young Aizawa needs to know about the villains with multiple quirks and All for One. I can't tell you the details right now, but with how One for All is manifesting in you, if he only knows about All for One, it would be very easy for him to make incorrect assumptions."

"Oh," said Izuku. He could certainly see how that could be dangerous. He didn't want his teacher to associate him with a villain like that.

"Also, if he knows what's happening, it will be easier for him to help you," finished Mr. Yagi hopefully.

Izuku thought about it. "I guess that would be alright. But... He's not the only person who'll know about my quirk being weird and All for One, right? I mean, the Hero Commission, at least..."

"To be entirely honest with you, I tell the HPSC as little as possible about All for One and One for All."

"What? Why?" asked Izuku.

"Well-"

"Izuku!"

"Mom!"

"I'll explain later," said All Might quickly.

Kurogiri passed a damp washcloth over the burns on his neck. The metal of his collar was a conductor, and the charge the young man with the electricity quirk had sent through it had been significant. It was only natural for it to get hot, for it to burn.

He should go to the Doctor... Some of the collar's functionality seemed to be damaged. He brushed his mist covered fingers over the cool metal.

Tomura wouldn't tell the Doctor. Kurogiri cared deeply for Tomura, but the young man was certainly shallow and unlikely to realize the extent of Kurogiri's injuries. He was more likely to focus on his own, not insignificant, wounds.

In contrast to those, Kurogiri's paled. He wasn't nearly as important as Tomura, after all.

It should be fine to let his wounds and the collar be. It would do what it was supposed to and protect the vulnerable areas of his body, internal damage or no. He just had to be careful of the burns becoming infected, especially since he couldn't see them.

Sometimes, he wished his body was like it was before...

Kurogiri frowned at the thought even as it faded from his consciousness. He had been created by All for One fully formed. His body had always been like this.

Hadn't it?

Shouta had been in and out of consciousness the past few hours. Apparently he'd never been in serious danger of dying, except from shock, which was just his body being dramatic and didn't count. All his major organs were free of serious damage. He just had to regain his stamina so that Recovery Girl could heal him up, and then he'd be fine.

Unlike Tensei, apparently, who had cracked one of his engines, which needed specialist help and surgery to realign the pieces. Or All Might, who had taken hits to his old injury, and needed to take time off or lose more time from his hero form. Or his students, who hadn't been seriously injured but who were probably traumatized.

The last time he had woken up, though, Hizashi had been there. Now, All Might, Nezu, and Detective Tsukauchi were there.

"Thought I already gave my statement," said Shouta.

"You did," said Tsukauchi.

"We're here to give you more information about the attack, I'm afraid," said Nezu.

"Information I won't like?"

"It can wait until you feel better, of course."

"That's illogical," said Shouta. "The sooner I get the information, the more time I have to process it."

All Might, Yagi, sighed. "Nomu and the portal-using villain both had multiple quirks."

Shouta frowned. "You mean, they had quirks with multiple aspects?"

"No," said Nezu. "As Yagi said, they had multiple quirks. This was confirmed by both the villains' comments and by Monoma, who made contact with the portal villain and was able to copy multiple quirks."

"Kurogiri," said Shouta. "That's what the other one called him. Shigaraki."

Nezu nodded. "Indeed. We weren't sure you had heard that." He tapped his paws together. "What we are about to tell you is classified. We are only sharing it with you because of your unique position and history."

"In the wrong hands, it could cause a lot of damage," said Yagi.

Only two things kept Shouta from leaping out the window and escaping: the fact that he was basically immobilized in plaster casts and the fact that his students were already involved in whatever this was.

"Great. What is it?"

"To begin," said Tsukauchi, "Monoma said he was able to copy three quirks from Kurogiri."

"That's up from what he could do before," observed Shouta. Stress did push quirks to improve, sometimes, although Shouta hated for the improvement to be associated with trauma.

Tsukauchi nodded. "He made note of that as well. He said he picked up a quirk that allowed him to turn his body parts into portals that led to other body parts, a quirk allowed him to temporarily teleport his body parts, and..." he trailed off.

"And a quirk that at the very least bears a strong resemblance to Shirakumo Oboro's Cloud."

"What are you saying?" asked Shouta, ignoring the way his heart had almost stopped.

"At the moment? Only that it is very strange that Kurogiri had a quirk like that, and sent you to the place where Shirakumo Oboro died."

"Oboro would never-"

"We're not saying that," interrupted Yagi. He coughed into his hand. "There's more context. Have you ever heard of the quirk bogeyman?"

"I can't wait to never sleep again I'm my entire life," said Shouta.

"Wait," said Tsukauchi, "it gets worse."

"How could it get worse?"

"Naomasa, you're supposed to be on my side," complained Yagi.

"I am. That's why I'll stop Eraserhead here from trying to kill you after you finish explaining."

"Well, it has to do with young Midoriya's quirk..."

"Let me get this straight, you gave the quirk with an immortal supervillain archenemy attached to a child... and didn't tell him that the supervillain existed."

"When you say it like that, it sounds really bad-"

"It is really bad-!"

"If I'd known he was still alive-"

"What part of immortal do you not understand?"

"Shouta, I, too, believed that All for One-"

"Shut up, Nezu! I don't have the energy to be mad at both of you right now!"

Yagi, Tsukauchi, and Nezu were all shown out by an irate nurse while a different but equally irate nurse replaced the plaster cast on Shouta's arm.

It had definitely been worth it.

Just because school was canceled, that didn't mean training was canceled.

... except it did, both because Inko was too stressed to let Izuku out of the house, and because Mr. Yagi had a meeting to go to about the attack.

But the second day after the attack was a different story!

That morning, Mr. Yagi pulled up in front of Izuku's apartment in Hercules (still so cool!) and picked him up.

Izuku bounced enthusiastically into the car and then froze. "Oh my gosh, what happened to your eye? Was it a villain? How hard did they hit you?" his hands fluttered. "I have some cream-"

"Oh," said Mr. Yagi, "no need, young Midoriya! I, er, sort of deserved it. It's a sort of reminder to take it easy, too. People would be disturbed to see All Might with a black eye, after all!" He smiled, then winced.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, very. You should buckle up, my boy."

"Oh, right," said Izuku. "So, where are we going? You said there was someone you wanted to introduce me to."

"Yes," said Mr. Yagi. "My old teacher. It's been a while since I've seen him. Hopefully he won't make up for lost time with a kick to the face..."

"What?"

"Don't worry about it."

When Mr. Yagi spent most of the way over muttering about kicks to the face and head, Izuku decided that he should, in fact, worry about it.

The broken-down building was not what Izuku had been expecting.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" asked Izuku.

"Absolutely," said Mr. Yagi, who was shaking somewhat. "This Pavlovian response only confirms it."

"Um." The building looked condemned. "Maybe he moved."

"One can only hope," said Mr. Yagi. "Maybe you sh- No. I have to see this through." He steeled himself visibly, squaring shoulders. "Please not a kick to the face," he said, under his breath.

"Is he really that bad?" asked Izuku.

"My boy, I guarantee you that he's worse."

"Poor kid has no idea what's coming," said Banjo. "Although we wouldn't have believed it either if we weren't riding along and watching."

"Nana," said En, "I just want to reiterate that I'm very glad you never thought about giving One for All to Gran Torino."

"Come on. Sorahiko isn't that bad," protested Nana.

"We know," said everyone else, "he's worse."

They walked up to the apartment building door. Mr. Yagi sighed heavily on seeing the door was hanging open, which was a radically different reaction than what Izuku would have expected.

"Is Danger Sense doing anything?"

"I don't think so?"

"Let me know if that changes."

"R-right," said Izuku. Mr. Yagi pushed the door in, and Izuku followed cautiously after him.

They went down a few hallways, peeking in rooms. Then they got to the kitchen, and Izuku covered his mouth with both hands with a gasp at the grisly, bloody scene. Gran Torino laid on the floor in a pool of red liquid. "Oh my gosh, he's-"

At the same time, Mr. Yagi said, "At least it's not a kic-"

The supposedly dead hero was suddenly airborne, and flying towards Mr. Yagi, foot first. Specifically, at his face. "You thou-"

Danger Sense spiked. It was a tiny spike, but still.

Izuku reacted. Specifically, with nerves shot by the USJ attack, he reacted violently, lashing out with a fist, swatting Gran Torino out of the air and back into the puddle of what was, in retrospect, probably diluted ketchup.

For a moment, everything was silent.

"Oh my gosh," wailed Izuku. "I assaulted a senior citizen!"

Gran Torino bounced back to his feet. "I like this kid, Toshinori!"

"I'm... glad?"

"Now show me what you've g-"

"Gran, please, we're only here for quirk help, not battle training."

"What's the difference? You're going to want to use it in battle eventually, right?"

"I mean," said Izuku, hesitantly, feeling like he had whiplash several times over, "yes?"

"See?"

"Just help with controlling Float. Please." Mr. Yagi pressed his hands together. "Please do not pick a quirk fight with a civilian teenager. Please."

"We are on private property."

"Assault is still illegal on private property."

"He's the one who hit me!"

"I know! I'm so sorry," said Izuku, doing his best to bow in the cramped space. "It was a reflex."

"After you attacked me!"

"Yeah, but you knew I was going to do that!"

"That doesn't make it better!"

Gran Torino turned to Izuku. "Kid, I don't know how you did it, but it looks like you made this big softy grow a backbone. Next step is to see if you can get him to do this with Mirai, too."

"Um," said Izuku. "I think he already had a backbone? He's All Might, after all."

"Nah, he's just a giant spindly amoeba who needs to take better care of himself."

Mr. Yagi slumped.

"But back on topic," said Gran Torino, eyes much sharper than before. "Do you really have Nana's quirk, kid?"

"Y-yeah. I think so. It was only a little bit, during the attack, but... yeah."

"Let's see what you can do with it, then."

"Um," said Izuku.

"Gran, maybe you should get cleaned up first? Young Midoriya and I can take care of the kitchen..."

"You don't know how to turn it on, do you?"

"Not really, no," said Izuku.

"We've got our work for today cut out for us, then, don't we, you zygotes?"

Wow. Gran Torino really did call people zygotes.

Wild.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #danger first #danger first au #fic #fanfic

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orbitariums · 4 years

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𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟒)

part three

note - i wanna thank everyone for reading once again! i'm currently in the process of writing imagines, those will be posted throughout the week, i don't want to clog up my blog bc i want y'all to see this chapter!

this one switches pov a lil more frequently, so bear with me <3 also not as smutty as other chapters, this is more of an emotionally-charged chapter!!! still a teensy bit smutty thooo. i want to make it clear that while this fic is definitely rooted in smut & sex & sex work, it is not porn without plot & will not ONLY be smut as i put effort and time into plot development / character development! i'm sure y'all know that tho. there will be conflict, there will be plot!!! i feel like that's clear already but there's discourse on smut happening rn and i wanna voice myself! omg anyways luv y'all enjoy the reaaad <3

new taglist!

playlist

word count - 8.3k

warnings - age gap, sex work, smut, vibrator, ANGSTYYY like hella dramatic, dirty talk

That slight shift that you and Steve both felt, that happiness that you realized came from talking to one another, only lasted so long... for you. You could hardly sit in your feelings about your situation with Steve before another thing that occupied all your time came crashing down upon you. Except this time, the thing brought you no such happiness or curiosity.

You had spent almost your entire senior year working on a special lab project about drought tolerant plants in Southern California where you lived and went to school, and your professor was making completing your project incredibly hard for you. And you felt incredibly stressed out about the entire situation - not only was the project necessary to graduate, but it was your heart and soul for the past year. Now, your professor was basically saying it was "ineligible."

"Ineligible?" Aaliyah repeated after you, after you told her what your professor had said.

"Whatever the hell that means," you huffed as you power walked down the street, hand in hand with Aaliyah, your free hand holding a coffee.

"That's so fucking annoying, holy shit," Aaliyah pressed a hand to her forehead. "He had the whole year to talk to you about changing your topic and...”

"And he never did," you sighed, frowning. You settled down onto a bench where the two of you sat next to each other, staring out into the busy streets and sipping your iced coffees.

California was a beautiful place, and you were a native, you'd lived there all your life. You knew the ins and outs of your city, knew Southern California like it was your backbone. And you loved it here - loved the sun, the beaches, the way the people were either shady in the best way or incredibly friendly. You'd never really known any other place like you knew this place. You were just glad that if you had to be stressed, you could do so in California.

Aaliyah pouted, feeling for you. She placed her hand on your knee to be comforting,

"Babe..."

"It's okay," you sighed. You sucked it up, like always, because you had learned how to fend for yourself ever since you realized that depending on others could only lead to downfall. You would figure this out the same way you figured everything else out... on your own. You figured out your house on your own, your job, your finances.

"Is it, though?" Aaliyah pursed her lips and squinted at you. Despite how much you tried to fend for yourself, Aaliyah was always there for you. She was one of your biggest supporters.

"I'll just keep visiting during his office hours and work this out."

Aaliyah rolled her eyes,

"Men are so annoying, girl. You know what, he probably wants to fuck you. With your fine ass. That's why he's doing all this."

You chuckled, shaking your head and covering your mouth, trilling back in response,

"Okay girl, don't get too ahead of yourself."

"I'm serious! Men are evil. Oh, except your fave."

You made a face, nearly choking on your iced coffee. This was news to you,

"Who are we talking about?"

"You know," Aaliyah sang slightly, nudging you and leaning against your shoulder. "Mr. Won't Show His Face."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, but bit down on your straw with a knowing smile, eyes peeking out over the top of your shades. If you were being honest, this idea of Steve, whoever he really was, had been a fun thing to entertain during this period of stress. You'd been talking and engaging with him for two and a half weeks now, and the connection you two had was undeniable.

But you knew better - maybe he wasn't just another customer, because you could really talk to him and felt like he was real - then again, he was strictly a customer. You liked him, a lot, but you couldn't like him any more than you already did. That would be dangerous and silly, and create unrealistic expectations. It wasn't like you could go on dates or anything.

Still, talking to him (and performing for him) did help to distract you from your stress, at least for a small amount of time. Steve was becoming less shy, less inhibited. He cracked jokes and was starting to keep up with your innate sense of sexuality, starting to navigate you, find you the way a bee might find its nectar, hidden deep inside the curvatures of a flower.

If you were a flower, you'd probably be a sunflower - bright, yellow, almost always in a positive mood, or at least trying to keep yourself in a positive mood. More than that though, sunflowers were tall and looming - you felt like that represented your put togetherness and how hard you worked, how smart you were. Only sometimes it was hard to keep yourself up and tall, but you always did it, time and time again.

But when it came to Aaliyah's comments about Steve, she mostly just made you laugh.

"Haven't seen him yet, have you?" Aaliyah asked, raising her brows expectantly.

"No. And I'm fine with that. He's simply another very loyal customer who I happen to like."

"Hm," Aaliyah hummed, and you could tell her mind was up to something - some very wishful, and mischievous thinking.

"What are you up to?" you narrowed your eyes at her and glared at her, and she just shook her head with a lazy smile,

"Nothing. Just thinking that maybe it would be cool if he really was this really hot guy that you actually knew and he wasn't creepy and y'all... you know... started dating. Just to get your mind off a lot of crap. I know, I know, strictly against the rules, blah blah blah. No feelings for customers, it's basic shit. But in a perfect world..."

"I know," you sighed without thinking, sipping at your drink.

"You know?" Aaliyah questioned, surprised.

You shrugged,

"So I've thought about it. Except, you know, in a perfect world, I'd meet a guy like Steve in like, a farmer's market or something. Not on my shady ass cam shows."

Aaliyah snorted laughing, and at the sound of her laughter, you joined in.

You continued,

"I mean, not Steve exactly, because that would be weird. I just mean, a guy like Steve."

"You mean a guy who makes you feel the same way he makes you feel," Aaliyah corrected you, and you glared at her again, pushing her gently.

"Don't push it," you teased, but you meant it - you might have liked Steve, but that was all there was to it - you liked him, he was a distraction. And maybe even that was too much.

✺ ✺ ✺

As for Steve, he thoroughly enjoyed his time with you. He thought constantly about how you made him feel, how much he looked forward to talking to you. How everyday, his worry about your situation becoming more serious dissipated slowly. He could feel himself easing into you, everything that made up this character you created called Moonrose. Conversation seemed casual, like you knew each other in real life, it felt easy, and there was no pressure.

As for your connection, he had finally acknowledged that it was real, and more than either of you had wanted to realize at first. But now, there was no shame, no worry in acknowledging what the two of you had, because you were both smart enough to keep it at this level. It was like a shallow pool. There would be no drowning.

He mostly talked to Bucky about you when it came to the emotional aspect of it. He still feared that if he talked to Tony, it might come across as an issue, and might put a pause on what he had with you. But everyone noticed how different Steve was acting. Even without the phase he had gone through where he was sexually frustrated and angry, he still acted different.

Lighter on his feet, more smiley. And he was always on top of his work. You weren't distracting him from his duty, so that made the fact that he knew you had a unique connection with him more bearable. Because of you, he was learning to worry less. To have a little more fun.

It was a bright day that week, the sun filtering in through the large windows of the meeting room where everyone was gathered. Steve was engaging in some mindless conversation with Sam and Bucky in which they were debating whether or not pineapple belonged on pizza.

"No. I'm not sure why everyone keeps trying to put all these twists on pizza. It's pizza," Bucky scoffed, Sam rolling his eyes as a result.

"You're just closed off. With your old ass," Sam retorted, and Steve made a face. Sam raised his hands up in surrender. "You know what I mean. What about you Steve?"

Honestly, Steve had never even tried pineapple on pizza and he didn't understand why there was such a big fuss about the banal question.

"I don't really have an opinion," he shrugged, not expecting Sam and Bucky to start clamoring over him and trying to force him to pick a side.

Before he even got to grasp the situation, he felt Natasha patting his shoulder,

"Hey, mind if I use your laptop? Mine's gone haywire, don't really feel like messing with it right now."

"Yeah," Steve agreed without a second thought, setting his laptop on the table and letting Natasha handle it- she was better with tech stuff than he ever was.

Natasha would use his laptop to showcase some data and start off their morning. It seemed innocent enough —a simple, barely impacting sacrifice. But Steve clearly hadn't thought everything through, because the moment Natasha logged in and hooked up Steve's computer to the holographic projector, more than just data appeared on the screen.

In fact, a whole array of women, all of them engaging in various sexual acts or preparing themselves to, showed up on the screen. And at the top, where the browser was, were the words "girlsonfilm.com."

Steve hadn't noticed all the clamor, too busy thinking (thoughts of you and thoughts of work), until Bucky called it to his attention.

"Steve," he nudged him frantically, his voice a loud whisper.

When Steve looked up at the screen, his face couldn't have gone any redder. He hadn't thought about this at all, and he had clearly forgotten to close out his browser. His heart sunk all the way to his stomach - because it wasn't just Natasha seeing this, it was everybody. And that included Tony, who was glaring pointedly at Steve from the head of the table. Meanwhile, all the others were too busy heckling Natasha and making brash comments about what was appearing onscreen. To Steve's relief, your face didn't show up, but this just might have been worse than only your screen appearing.

"Woah, Nat, I didn't know you got down like that!" Sam hooted, cupping his mouth with his hands.

Natasha, though she was in shock as well, rolled her eyes,

"This is Steve's laptop."

Now a hush, then another clamor of confusion and heckling, all directed towards Steve. He couldn't recoil any more, feeling the pangs of embarrassment as his eyes flashed between every one of his teammates. He felt as if there were an asteroid approaching fast, and he was right where it would land, too slow to move out of its way.

"Steve, what do you know about 'girls on film'?" Sam nearly cackled, reading the name of the site.

Steve sighed deeply, locking eyes with Natasha as he mouthed "turn it off" to her.

"I am, I am," she ensured him, quickly disconnecting the laptop from the projection, unplugging completely.

A beat passed, everyone staring expectantly at Steve, who was staring down at the table, trying to process his own thoughts. Like for starters, why didn't he log out the last time, and why didn't he remember to log out? And then his mind went to deeper places. He hadn't been intentionally secretive with his actions, but he had been intentionally private. It had to do with his own growth, he was learning how to navigate a world that was new to him and somehow helping him at once. He didn't want to have to share this with everyone, it was nice having this to himself, he had no intentions of revealing what he had been doing in his past time that made him so happy.

One of the reasons he didn't want everyone to know about his situation was because he didn't want to have to be concerned with what everyone else might think. Because to begin with, being on a site for cam shows wasn't exactly everyone's idea of what Captain America might be up to these days.

It was a matter of his image, what values he was supposed to hold. This didn't exactly match, and Steve had just gotten over the idea that he was a bad, sneaky person because of what he chose to indulge in. At least here he knew it was ethical and not causing harm to you as a human being.

He also didn't want to have to deal with the insufferable questioning and teasing his team would put him through, or the judgment he thought they might put him through. He felt embarrassed, exposed, and like he had been ill prepared for a situation like this. He was just grateful they hadn't seen more, because that would've been a disaster. What they had seen was only at the surface level of what he'd been doing.

But his thinking was interrupted by Tony's voice, which broke through all the silence, and made Steve realize again the eyes that were on him.

"Well, jig's up," Tony sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Care to explain?"

Steve locked eyes with Tony, as if hopeful that he wouldn't have to, but he knew it was best for him to just spit it out. Tony shrugged apologetically, and Steve took in a deep sigh, looking around at everyone at the table.

"What was that?" Scott whimpered, probably the most distraught by what they had all seen.

Steve nodded solemnly and began to explain himself. He would tell the truth, but that didn't mean he had to tell them everything. You would be left out of this, if anything. He'd just explain to them that sometimes, duty calls - and sometimes, it's not at all work-related.

✺ ✺ ✺

It was just hours before your cam show when another disaster struck, the first one being the fact that your professor was giving you shit about your project. You were in the bathroom, getting ready for your show, fixing your hair up and doing your makeup, laying out an outfit, doing all the things you did to feel pretty before a show.

Your phone lay beside you on the bathroom table, pinging with messages every now and then. You ignored it, leaning closer into the mirror to get a look at your lipstick, dabbing your fingers into the pigment on your lips.

You smiled, feeling that gratifying sense of achievement. Despite what was going on with your professor, you felt like you were doing well in life. You usually had a positive mindset, enjoyed your work although you sometimes felt as if you were buried deep in all your occupations: student, office worker, cam girl, designer, young woman. Your life was never dull, and you wouldn't trade it for anything. Talking to Steve helped too, but it was more than that.

But that sense of satisfaction all seemed to dissolve when you looked down at your phone, and saw a text from an unsaved number, glaring bright on your glowing lock screen of you hiking with Aaliyah. Still, you recognized it immediately.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

I miss you. Text me back.

✺ ✺ ✺

Steve wasn't exactly keen on joining your live show today, but he did so anyway, because he still had time to himself despite the spiral of events that had happened earlier. There was nothing else to do, and he didn't want to miss out on you after attending almost all of your shows for the past almost three weeks. Didn't want to just leave unexpectedly.

It felt strange that he felt this tug of commitment, but he brushed it off. He was just fulfilling his needs, which should even be expected of him. He was stressed again, after being caught up like he was. And maybe that was all the more reason not to watch your show tonight, but he wouldn't devoid himself of the simple pleasures of life. He'd learned that lesson a while ago, from a special someone called Moonrose.

After everything transpired, he explained himself calmly to his team, slowly to ensure that they'd understand that this wasn't the beginning of a deviant phase, that he wasn't throwing away his work responsibilities to lurk on the NSFW side of the internet. Not that they ever thought that to begin with, they never questioned his abilities or his authority for a minute, not even in the midst of what they'd seen that had shocked them.

This was the product of Steve's own insecurities and his admittedly silly fear that he was somehow letting his team down. He told them that he was on the site, as recommended by Tony, to relieve some "frustration" that he felt he didn't have the time or the means to release in real life. He said that while it had helped him do that, he wasn't throwing away his responsibilities, nor was he dependent on the site or the things on it, or the people on it for that matter.

He knew that if they knew about you, all those private sessions, all those conversations you'd had, the connection you had built between the two of you, it might be a different story. But because they didn't, they appreciated his honesty. They were confused, it didn't seem like the kind of thing Steve would be into, and he ensured them that it was a shock to him as well.

But they didn't mind on the whole, it was just a shock to everyone at first. They didn't think it called for a meeting, thought it was almost humorous how serious Steve was being about such a trivial situation. Wanda had joked about how we've all been there, Thor denied ever having to do such a thing because: "I have all the romantic partners anyone could ask for. I could introduce you Steve, but these Asgardian women are fiery, far beyond anything I believe you could handle." In the end, Steve was relieved, felt like it didn't have the disastrous outcome he'd been expected.

But he could feel his guard slowly coming back up. That was a close call, and it was a little too close for comfort. He didn't want to disregard you, but he couldn't afford to sink further in, and get his team involved. He just didn't want to face the consequences he could imagine if they knew how much he decided to stick with you, how much you talked, how it was teetering off the range of normal customer to cam girl interaction.

It wasn't like he was careless when it came to his interactions with you, but he also didn't want his team to know about his business when it came to you. He didn't want them thinking he was engaging too much, didn't want it to get to the point where he was worrying again or felt like he needed to deny himself such wonderful feelings.

All these things were on his mind while he waited for your live show to start. When it did, and he saw your face, he felt a little bit alleviated. Just for now, he could have this fantasy to himself. If they knew about the site, so be it. At least he had you to himself.

"Hey guys," you mustered a smile, waving to the camera.

Unbeknownst to your viewers, you had spent the past few hours off camera panicking, on the verge of tears, calling Aaliyah frantically so she could help calm you down. That text from that mysterious unknown number had been from your ex's number. The same ex who made you fall into dependency patterns that you worked so hard to get out of, the one who made you feel like you had to work for his love. Like it wasn't something you deserved, just like anyone else.

You had worked so hard to finally wring out all the effects of him, all the bad habits you had fallen into because of him. That was part of the reason why you worked so hard. Not because you were actively avoiding him specifically, but because you were actively bettering yourself. You weren't looking for a relationship. But you knew that if you were in one now, the same things would never happen to you.

When you got that text, it triggered a flood of memories. Feelings you had to work to suppress and actually get over for months so you wouldn't fall back into the same desperate, needy patterns when it came to your relationships with people. All over a simple text from someone you hadn't heard from in almost a year. It hurt you how easy it was to get you to crack, even if you didn't spill out all the way. But on top of the added stress because of school, you were damn close.

You would do the show tonight, anyway. It helped you to escape, although Moonrose was a part of you, it didn't one hundred translate into real life. So in a way, this helped you escape real life. Just for a while. Just like Steve.

You grinned when you saw concerned comments from your watchers:

johnGuy182

Are you okay, moonrose? You seem a little sad.

zenongirl

Girl r u ok? i missed seeing your face!!!

"Guys, I'm okay," you grinned. And you actually felt better seeing comments from your supporters. It reminded you to cheer up - they were looking for a good show, not a sob story. You leaned back, revealing your stomach in the sheer, sparkly fringed bra you chose to wear (another piece you had designed by yourself). "It's been a looong day."

Steve watched silently, observing your behavior. He didn't notice drastic changes, but you did appear less chipper. Then again, he brushed it off. He didn't expect you to be smiley all the time, you were human too, and this was your work.

"But I'm okay," you reassured, giving that signature grin, genuine and charming and alluring. You were trying to gently distract yourself, get into your act. "I hope you're all just as lovely as I am. I have a special game for you today."

You directed your viewers to your spinning wheel, which you had been working on crafting that week for a game. You grinned as you spinned it. Each act on the wheel cost a certain amount of tokens, and by the end of the game you would garner a bunch of funds. The show went by relatively quickly as you played the game, eventually ending up completely naked.

As ordered by the spinning wheel, you were to use a vibrator. You held it against your clit at the highest setting as you watched the numbers of viewers and the tokens jump up, Steve watching as he stroked himself leisurely. Your legs shook as you restrained yourself from your orgasm so as to increase the length of your showtime, garner more coins to encourage you to come.

"Mm," you moaned, massaging the vibrator against your clit, getting wetter and slicker by the minute, sliding the toy between your folds. You laughed, breathless. "Fuck, this thing is so powerful. Someone make me come, please make me come. Just a few more tokens for me to come for you."

Steve was hesitant, but he decided to go ahead and give you the amount of tokens you needed. And when you heard the chime of the tokens being added to your account, and saw the name it was attached to, it was like a blast of euphoria. When your legs started to shake, when you started to moan and your stomach started to rise up and down, it was genuine. It was like you were back in a private room with him, although you weren't.

Your orgasm was blood-curdling in the best way, and you felt like you were releasing part of the stress of the past day, the past week. It didn't get any realer than this, once again you felt like he was really there to satisfy you.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, your mouth dropping open and your blood flowing, moaning. "Yes, Steve, I'm coming for you. Thank you for making me come, Steve!"

Steve had been stroking himself along with you as he watched, and only let himself come now that you had come, his cheeks heating up as he heard you moan his name, something he hadn't been expected. Something about you saying his name like that where everyone could hear, even though he enjoyed the intimacy of private rooms, felt victorious. It felt lewd, salacious, but he couldn't help but enjoy that aspect of it. He moaned through grit teeth while he came, stroking himself to completion.

You came down, thanking everyone for attending and ending the show. But it wasn't long after that you had requested Steve for a private chat. He accepted, because he had gotten used to you doing this a little more frequently. It didn't scare him any more, he just thought of it as making conversation, taking advantage of this connection you had with each other. So when you requested, who was he to say no.

When the chat log opened, you put on your best happy face for Steve, trying to conceal how fatigued this week, today in particular, had made you. But your tired, bleak voice gave it all away, buried deep beneath your smile,

"Hey, Steve."

Steve was surprised at the sound of your voice. Again, while he understood that you wouldn't be a happy go lucky fairy like personality all the time, he wasn't expecting this. You were smiling, but the weariness in your eyes was hard to miss. And your voice, which usually told light hearted tales, sounded worn down as if from tragedy. He was concerned, his eyebrows furrowed gently,

"Hi. How are you?"

"I'm good!" you exclaimed, trying your hardest to really sound "good."

But you were just tired. Tired and sad, and scared - scared of what the future had to hold. You were already dealing with school stress, and the text from your ex-boyfriend was like a bad omen, an anxiety-provoking assurance that things actually would not get better and they would in fact get progressively worse. You weren't even sure why you thought you should be talking to Steve if you were tired and just wanted to sleep off the weight of the week. It would be a weekend tomorrow, and one of your very rare days off.

Maybe you figured that you wanted to talk to him despite your fatigue, because conversation with Steve was a nice distraction. You had let yourself forget that this was still your job, and that you were too tired for anything sexual — you knew he liked talking to you, but you hadn't put into consideration the fact that he might request a sexual act from you. You would be burnt out if he did. The fact that you didn't think about that should've been telling, but your brain was too scattered to think straight.

Anyway, Steve called your bluff, and laughed quietly, his voice inquiring and pressing,

"How are you really?"

That was all it took to get a deep sigh to come from out of you, all it took to allow yourself to show your true feelings, at least the surface of them, what you felt comfortable showing a customer. You felt a sense of relief and gratefulness for Steve, like he was letting you breathe. And if anything, he especially wasn't enlisted to listen to your problems. But he wanted to, and for that you felt foolishly grateful.

Steve noted the deep sigh that came from out of you, and he frowned slightly. He could tell you had been holding this in for a while, and some part of him felt remorse for the fact that even though you clearly weren't in the right mindset, you went on and did your show anyway. He felt some guilt for being a part of the reason why you did your show.

You answered, allowing your voice to be as honest as possible.

"Honestly?" you chuckled a little, albeit bitterly. "I don't know if you really want to hear me rant to you."

Steve shook his head.

"Don't be silly," he grinned. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to."

You felt a warm rush in your chest from the reassurance, and the corner of your lip quirked up in a small smile, before you decided to dive in. You'd spare the emotional details, spare your private life. But it would be nice to talk to someone, just about the general things, right?

"Well, it's been a pretty stressful week, honestly. I mean, school's been the main source of my stress. My professor's such an asshole, he's basically been telling me my entire senior project, which I need to complete to graduate, needs to be redone? And I can't even fathom how I would have enough time to do that with like, two and a half months left of my senior year. I mean, he said I can keep most details, but I'd have to rework it, whatever that means."

You kept your emotions at bay, sighing in annoyance just at the story you told, because it really was irritating you. But then you felt deeper things, even more went into why you really were upset.

Steve nodded, just listening. He was prepared to offer advice, but in your situation, he thought that maybe just letting you rant would be best.

"That's gotta be annoying," he shook his head understandingly. "Whatever your project is, I'm sure it's wonderful. He shouldn't be forcing you to rework it or make any last minute changes."

"I know!" you nearly jumped up, feeling amped up now. "And it's just so fucking annoying because I work so hard and I'm really passionate about this project and it just feels like..."

It felt like you were about to overflow, like a pot of water that had been left on for too long. You were ranting almost uncontrollably now, maybe because of the fact that it was more than this that was tugging at you. Because you'd been carrying the weight of your life on your shoulders all the time, like Atlas carrying the sky, and it felt like that weight was finally starting to mean something.

Steve could see you were unraveling and he let you, he let you take the time you needed to feel everything you had been holding. If your connection was strong, it was at its strongest here. Sure, you and Steve chatted about a little bit of everything, even had deeper conversations here and there as the weeks went by. But you had yet to genuinely complain to him, because every time you spoke with him, you were happy go lucky Moonrose, with nothing to complain about to begin with. But now, you needed a release by any means, and you were just glad Steve was there for you, even if he wasn't really there. How unlike you to unfold in front of strangers.

Your breath stuttered as you took in a deep breath in a failed attempt to calm down, only further driving yourself into your rambling. You felt yourself tear up, your voice becoming watery as you continued,

"It just feels like all my work is turning to shit, and it's so fucking frustrating because I work so hard all the time, I do so much and I manage so much all the time."

The "hard work" you were talking about wasn't just school and work-related, it pertained to your journey, and how hard you had worked to be a better person. To support yourself. The emotions pent up inside of you, they were more than just being upset over a school project. The idea of someone toxic trying to re-enter your life, someone who had forced you to rework the entirety of your life, made you feel like you were on the verge of crashing. You knew better, but you didn't want to return to those dark days, where the light at the end of the winding tunnel that was your relationship seemed so far away. It was why you were so weary of relationships today. It was crazy how one person could change your life so easily.

Now you were crying, before you even noticed that you were crying. Tears just seemed to leak out of your eyes, sloshing wet and sudden against your cheeks and underneath your lashes. You wiped them away quickly with the back of your hand, frazzled at the fact that you were crying in front of a customer right now. Steve said he'd listen to you, he didn't say he'd watch you cry and be your therapist. You instantly regretted it, although you couldn't stop yourself, tears threatening to emerge again. If you were cracked before, you were spilling now.

Steve was surprised too, at the fact that you were crying. You appeared so put together to him, it was almost something he didn't expect from you. He was in shock at first, so much so that professionalism was not on his mind - it was an afterthought. Right now, instead of wondering if this was appropriate, he was occupied with you.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, but you still hadn't stopped, tears falling out as you blinked. Composure was nothing now, you were sobbing, your shoulders slumped and your head hung as you sniffled. Still you enforced control, wiping away every tear that fell with the back of your hand. "I'm really sorry, I don't mean to cry to you over this, that's so-"

Steve cut you off, shaking his head slowly,

"It's okay to cry, doll. We all have those days. I know better than anyone that we all have those days."

You mustered a smile, feeling cared for, feeling accounted for by someone who wasn't even obligated to have to see you like this. Still you shook your head, sniffling,

"I know. But it's-it's stupid, I shouldn't be crying in front of you."

"I'm not judging you," Steve said, so nonchalantly and firmly, so genuine that it almost scared you.

You blinked. He should've cared, and he should've judged you. To cry in front of Steve, a customer, was to imply he had some duty to comfort you when he probably just wanted a show. You knew that you didn't have to do anything you didn't want to, but even you had rules when it came to what your customers got to see, and to you, that meant they didn't have to deal with your blues.

"Really?"

"Really," he reassured you with a nod.

Was Steve scared that by giving you this reassurance, this entire situation could become deeper than either of you could handle? Yes. But did he let himself shut down because of those pervasive thoughts that he might get himself into trouble? No. He didn't see you as a liability right now. Right now, even though the situation was certainly questionable (and this was something he had no doubt about. When emotions get into the mix, things could get tricky- he knew this), he saw you as someone who desperately needed someone to talk to. Maybe it wasn't smart of you to make him that someone, but regardless, he was, and who was Steve Rogers not to listen to a person in need?

You blinked away the last of your tears and swallowed hard. You were making this choice consciously, to tell Steve what had really gotten you to your breaking point. And maybe telling him meant you had trust in him, maybe too much trust for someone who, while great, was still a customer. But you felt like there was nothing you could lose from telling him. Maybe you'd even feel better after the fact.

You looked down, picking at the body glitter on your arm that you had applied before the show. Your voice was considerably quieter now perhaps because you were looking back on the moment with a clear mind for the first time since it happened. You hadn't been thinking straight ever since you received the text just hours ago. Now your brain was a little quieter with the help of your tears and Steve's reassurance.

"I think that the stress of this school project is making me resent how hard I work for everything, just to be met with this kind of result, you know? And it's even worse when... things seem to be going backwards. You know, like when you make so much progress, moving on from things that don't serve you, and you've finally done it and you get to flourish in it and then, it just gets taken away from you. Maybe I'm being dramatic, but that's just how this feels."

Steve nodded, his jaw ticking as he let your words settle in. Somehow, although your situation was so different from his, he felt like your words perfectly described how he felt with the world sometimes. It was even part of the reason he'd held off on talking to you like this, held off on getting too involved. He too had made so much progress in this world, which took so much getting adjusted to in a way that absolutely nobody else could relate to.

It was a world that he didn't even know, a world that he had never been properly introduced to. He'd had to fend for himself. He did his healing on his own, just like you had. And yet sometimes it felt like he had no control, like the universe was going the opposite way of all his plans. Then he felt stupid for even having plans to begin with, because in life, making plans was like comedy for the gods.

There was a weird feeling in his chest and stomach, like he'd been stabbed with a gutting realization, and the knife was just turning inside of him, churning his insides. He began to feel a sense of unease, because this deep conversation was beginning to feel incredibly personal. Even though you were talking about your own situation, he couldn't help but think about how much he resonated, and the fact that he felt like he could relate to you on such a deep level scared him. This was more than the conversations you'd had before, more than the simple similarities you and Steve shared. This felt like a conversation that might be too telling for his good and your own.

He swallowed his words as he listened to you continue. You chose your words carefully, but you had shed yourself of your inhibitions when it came to being truthful.

"Earlier... I heard from someone I hadn't heard from in a long time. And it kind of pushed me over the edge," out of your mouth stumbled a laugh. You were calmer now, and looked up at the camera, Steve swallowing hard when you did so. It was all so real, just like it was when you touched yourself and moaned Steve's name. "I think it just made me feel all those things I just explained. Because I feel like I worked so hard to rid myself of this person and them trying to come back just feels like all the things I worked so hard on are going to unravel. Even though I know they aren't, it feels like a setback. And that was like, the icing on the cake to this already terrible day, I guess."

You let out a breathy laugh and smiled gently, shaking your head slowly.

"I normally wouldn't be telling this to a customer. But here we are. Again, I'm sorry... I feel like I shouldn't have said anything? Should I... have said anything?"

In the brief silence that followed your question, both you and Steve were thinking the same thing - were you going to regret this? Intimacy both physically and emotionally was good when you capped it at what you both knew to be appropriate. When it came to the physical aspects, you each let your fantasies unwind.

And on the emotional aspect, though you had both grown closer and more open, some things just didn't get touched upon. But now you had just cried over the screen, and spoke from the depths of your heart. It was scary to open up in such an uncertain situation where your own privacy was an aspect that got involved. There was no doubt that it was too much. It was just a question of whether the result would be negative.

Steve sighed deeply, a crease forming in his forehead as he furrowed his brows together, folding his arms over his chest.

"I don't know..." he trailed off, took a breath, a leap, his body practically lurching forward. "But... it can't be a bad thing that you feel comfortable talking to me about this, can it?"

And there it was, that glint of hope he was trying his hardest to conceal. That feeling he got when he got off that call with you, the one where you both started giving into those unspoken thoughts. That this couldn't be so bad, that you could enjoy each other's company without worrying.

You smiled gently,

"I guess. It does feel weird though, it's not something I normally do. It feels like something I shouldn't be doing."

You could hear Steve breathing in deeply, and for a moment, you imagined what he might look like, envisioning the outline of a troubled face, eyebrows knit together. You snapped back to reality and made a face, confused by your abrupt thoughts. You had long gotten over the very brief desire to see Steve's face- why was it coming back again?

"I'll be honest, same here," Steve agreed with your sentiments.

"Do you always feel like you have to restrain what you say when you talk to people? Or is it just with me?" you added that last part in a quiet voice, biting your lip.

Steve chuckled briefly,

"Are you asking me if I have trust issues? Because I'd tell you, but I'd have to trust you to do that."

You shook your head and laughed at Steve's stupid joke, and shrugged.

"I could say the same thing, I think. This person I heard from earlier is... I developed those trust issues because of them. Or, my already existent trust issues became worse. But what's funny about it is that this person was once someone that I loved," even as the words were coming out you questioned why you were letting them, why you were allowing yourself to be so truthful in a situation like this at a time when you were so vulnerable.

Steve didn't reply, again feeling that sick feeling in his stomach that stemmed from his fear. The fear that this conversation were too serious, fear surrounding the fact that he was able to relate so much to such a personal situation of yours.

You spoke again, daring to ask the question that felt like a final blow to Steve's stomach,

"Have you ever been in love, Steve?"

Now Steve knew he was in uncharted territory. Not because he feared you might try to exploit him, but because he was so struck by the fact that he had allowed himself to feel so safe with you and get so close to you. He was surprised at himself for letting you feel safe enough to have these kinds of conversations with him. It all felt like a mistake now. He wanted a way out, any way out. He knew if he even attempted to answer that question, he would be making a big mistake. He had shared some of his most intimate moments with you, but always keeping in mind a very sharp line he didn't want to be crossed.

And in his mind, he thought of the one love he'd had, the one love that hadn't been fulfilled because of the situation he had been thrown into, one he had never signed up for. He thought of how the things he cared most for in life had been discarded, how, like you, he felt like it had gone to shit. How sometimes, though he tried his best to be grateful and had taken that journey of self-healing just like you, it all felt like some sick joke.

Could he even call it love? He wasn't sure. And he wasn't going to answer. He wasn't going to answer at all, because he wouldn't be talking to you again. There would be no chance for this dilemma to resurface, not with you, not on this site. He made the decision with haste and a heavy heart - he was done here.

The discomfort was well evident in his voice, answering loud and clear, though his voice was morose and a bit closed off. You sensed the shift immediately.

"I... I can't talk about that right now. Listen, I have to go."

You felt a pang in your chest at the sudden switch in his demeanor, straightening up and trying not to frown. All this time you had been letting the words spill out, telling yourself not to worry so much, reassuring yourself it was okay to make your feelings known. Now it felt like you should've never said anything at all. You started to stammer.

"Oh, I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry, I was just... I feel like I got a little overwhelmed." You laughed nervously. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Steve felt his throat ran dry as he blinked, feeling emotions come up to surface that he wasn't quite familiar with. Maybe he was grieving in advance, regretting the decision he was making to no longer speak with you, regretting the fact that he was letting fear get in the way of what he wanted so badly to be a good thing.

"No, I'm sorry. I feel like I let things go too far," Steve apologized, but the apology felt more like an insult.

Was he implying that whatever this was, you couldn't handle it, and that it was his fault for somehow leading you on? You had both made the connection with each other, it was an equal effort. And why was he acting like the two of you communicating at all was somehow below him, somehow a risk? If anything, you were the one risking it just by talking to him the way you did. You were opening up to him.

You almost felt betrayed - you had convinced yourself that he wouldn't want to listen to your problems and you told yourself it wasn't his responsibility to listen. And then he listened anyway, told you that he wanted to hear it, and you cried to him. You felt like you had made so many unusual accommodations just for him to scare off like this. He was just another person you had expressed your feelings to, only to regret it in the end.

"Too far?" you questioned, furrowing your brows.

Steve swallowed. In your voice he could hear a hint of frustration, but even worse- hurt. It pained him more than he cared for you to know.

"I don't think we should talk anymore," he said instead.

"What?" you were taken by surprise. "Steve, I'm... I'm not understanding. I... I don't usually open up to people like this, I mean, I thought maybe it was fine here, because I feel like I know you. But you're still a stranger. I understand you're a customer but I thought we were talking, I thought we broke through that wall-"

"We did. And we shouldn't have," Steve said, his voice so calm and firm that it was almost cold.

By now you were just staring into the computer camera, as if you were looking at him and waiting for him to come to his senses. But as you did that, you slowly came to your own. Because you weren't looking at him. You were looking at a black screen with his voice behind it. You realized you hadn't known Steve, not enough to talk about these things. And just like him, you too were full of regret. You kept all those walls up for the sake of customer relations, only to put them down and be met with this disastrous result.

Steve almost couldn't bare to look at your face anymore. You were confused, hurt. He could tell you regretted the fact that you had opened up. He was hurt too, but he wouldn't show it, or let it overcome him to the point where your methods of communication with each other became something neither of you could control. Still, yes, he was hurt.

But he had been through plenty of hardships in life. What was one more, even if it shouldn't have come to this point anyway?

"I'm sorry, Moonrose. We can't. Goodbye."

Chat over.

#steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers reader insert #reader insert #smut #captain america civil war #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #captain america smut #captain america #girls on film #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel smut #marvel reader insert #steve rogers series #captain america series

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dialovers-translations · 4 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Kanato Ecstasy [05]

ー The scene starts in the play room

*Clink*

Yui: ( Huh? What was that sound just now? It came from the play room... )

( Ah, Ayato-kun and Laito-kun are playing pool. )

( Looks kinda fun. )

Ayato: What’s up, Chichinashi? Wanna join in?

Laito: Heeh, really? I’ve always wanted to use a pool table as a bed at least once~

Yui: ...!? N-No! It seemed like the two of you were playing billiards, so I just came to watch.

Ayato: Hm...

Laito: I think playing with us would be much more fun than just watching though~?

Yui: B-But...

Laito: I’ll teach you if you don’t know how to play. Come on. Over here.

ー Laito tugs her closer

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah...

Ayato: You hold the cue like this. Give it a try.

Yui: Eh? ...Like this?

Laito: No, no. More like this, drop your hips...

Ayato: You’re tensing up your arms too much. Let them slack a little more, Chichinashi.

Yui: ( I-I can’t move with both of them glued to me at either side... )

ー Kanato suddenly appears

Kanato: What are you doing?

Yui: K-Kanato-kun!?

Selection

→ Why are you here? (❁)

Yui: Kanato-kun, why are you here?

Kanato: I’m the one asking a question.

I came to look for you because you weren’t around, only to find you with other men...

→ Nothing in particular...

Yui: Nothing in particular...

Kanato: Nothing? You call having two men lean against you from either side is ‘nothing’?

Yui: T-This is, well, they’re trying to teach me how to play pool...

Kanato: You truly are stupid and horribly naive (2), aren’t you? How many times do you have to fall for the same trap until you learn?

Yui: Eh?

Kanato: Honestly...Seems like I’ll have to warn you loud and clear through your body.

Ayato, Laito. Get out, please.

Ayato: Haah? You’re gonna throw us out?

Kanato: Exactly. If you insist on staying, I have a little plan in mind.

Laito: ...Fine. Making Kanato-kun upset only means more trouble afterwards. It can’t be helped.

Ayato: Che, way to ruin the mood.

ー Ayato and Laito leave

Kanato: ...Say, Yui-san.

Why were you happily playing billiards with those two? Were you trying to spite me?

Yui: N-No way...I never meant to...

Kanato: Then what was your intention?

...Aah, do you perhaps like that kind (2) of stuff?

Yui: Eh?

Kanato: Using this cue, perhaps? ...But you are my prey, are you not?

*THUD*

Yui: Kyah...!

( The cue broke...! )

Kanato: Aah, did you get hit by the broken cue? You poor thing...

Yui: Kanato-kun...

Kanato: It snapped perfectly in two, huh? ...This sharpened end...Seems like it’d make for an excellent weapon.

Yui: N-No...Don’t point it my way...

Kanato: I’m sure it would hurt to get stabbed by this...

I’m sure when it hit your hand earlier, it hurt plenty, didn’t it?

If you were to stab this into your stomach, I can only imagine it would hurt immensely...Fufu.

Yui: C-Cut it out, Kanato-kun. I’m begging you...!

Kanato: How lovely. Those cries of yours...Let me hear them more.

Yui: ...Kanato-kun...

Kanato: Please don’t defy me. Next time you do, I’ll be using this broken cue to...

Yui: I won’t! I won’t go against your will, Kanato-kun...

Kanato: I’m glad you understand.

One more thing. Please promise me you’ll no longer get close to the other brothers.

Yui: B-But we’re living under the same roof...

Kanato: You can simply ignore them if they strike up a conversation, right? It’s very easy.

All you need to do is listen to me.

...Your reply?

Yui: U-Understood...I won’t approach anyone else.

Kanato: Fufu, good to know you understand.

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah...!!

Kanato: When you obediently submit to me like that...I’ll gladly dote on you more, you know?

Yui: Kanato-kun...

Kanato: Fufu...Those two casually (3) touched your arms earlier, didn’t they?

Yui: ...Eh?

( Kanato-kun...What’s wrong? )

( Can I take this as...jealousy...? )

Kanato: ...I’ll suck your blood from here today...

ー Kanato bites her

Kanato: Please don’t look at anyone but me...

Yui: ...Ah!

Kanato: ...Phew, kuh...Nn...Haah, haah...

( I’m having my blood sucked, being threatened...I should hate this. )

( Yet, my body feels...hot. )

( I’m worried about Kanato-kun... )

( Kanato-kun’s on my mind... )

( I can no longer think straight... )

Kanato: Nn, you’re enjoying it as well, aren’t you? You’re making a very...blissful expression.

I’ll continue to suck your blood like this...Until you’re satisfied...

Relax your body a little more. Yes, just like that, just entrust me with everything...

Yui: ( Kanato-kun... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) Kanato uses the terms バカ or ‘baka’ and 愚か or ‘oroka’ in Japanese, which actually both mean ‘stupid/foolish’ with the first being used in colloquial speech while ‘oroka’ is usually only used in written language/literature. Since I didn’t want to repeat the same word twice, I decided to translate ‘oroka’ as ‘horrible naive’ instead. Other sources I looked through did point to slight differences between the two, in which ‘baka’ really refers to someone’s lack of intelligence/a low IQ while ‘oroka’ could still apply to someone who is in fact very smart, but may make foolish mistakes as times, so the term ‘naive’ didn’t seem like the worst fit.

(2) Even in Japanese it is quite vague what exactly is meant with Kanato’s words. However, he does refer to ‘using the cue stick’ afterwards so I guess it alludes to some type of kink/fetish.

(3) なれなれしい or ‘nare-nareshii’ in Japanese refers to doing something in an (overly) friendly or familiar way.

<- [ Ecstasy 04 ] [ Ecstasy 06 ] ->

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #kanato sakamaki #more blood #diabolik lovers translation #mbkanatoecstasy5

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probably-writing-x · 4 years

Text

Always for you.

Guzmán x Reader

Request by @cosmomariii : hello! sorry if I'm bothering you. could I request a one-shot with Guzman where him and the reader are a really strong couple and he's so in love with her that he tells her his plans for their relationship in the future? maybe in a fancy date or something, idk. btw I LOVE your writing and your ideas are amazing! :)

Gif is not my own

Requests are open🤍

You could’ve stayed like this forever if life didn’t call you to commitments. Guzmán lay back against the stone balcony floor as you lay between his legs with your head on his chest. He’d been pointing out different parts of the morning sunrise that made it impossible to want anything more than to stay exactly here. You’d been dating for a little over two years now and even you had surprised yourself with how stable everything had been. This was Guzmán we were talking about! He was practically known for having the easy ability to break hearts. But, somehow, along the way, he’d found yours and had never found a reason to let go. He never looked for one. It felt like you gave him purpose and he gave you reason. You gave him hope and he gave you a home. And piece by piece you’d built up a relationship that you could never see yourself losing. He was all good qualities in a heart wrapped into one beautiful boy.

“We really need to go,” You mumble, swirling patterns on his legs underneath the hem of his shorts.

He’d woken you up early to watch the sunrise before school started and you couldn’t possibly say no.

“I’m sure they won’t miss us at school,” He comments quietly, fingers threading through your hair that was splayed at the side of your head.

“What happened to being motivated?” You laugh, pushing yourself up so you could turn around and face him.

“I found other motivations,” He smirks, pulling you in and pressing a long, sleepy kiss to your lips, “But I do still need to graduate.”

“Then let’s get up, sleepy head.”

You stand and take the chance to stretch out your knotted muscles from the night, jumping as Guzman’s arms wrap around your torso and his chin settles on your shoulder.

“How about date night tonight? I’ll take you somewhere special.”

“You don’t have to Guzmán, I thought we said we’d just stay in again.”

“I’ll pick the place and meet you at yours,” He kisses the side of your neck before heading in back to his room.

Your heart still fluttered at little moments like that. How could it not? He had a power over you that no long-term could ever put out. You could see yourself simply falling deeper and deeper in love.

It was strange really. You knew you were only young. Seventeen was no age to be certain of much. But it didn’t mean that there wasn’t a possibility. And, sometimes, in certain ways and in certain crossing paths - you’ll meet someone that you were meant to meet. And you can be content with that. You don’t have to fear the doubt of other people or the opinions that didn’t belong to each other.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Guzmán sticks his head round from the en-suite of his room, toothbrush sticking out of his nose and his bare shoulder giving you a slight glimpse at his naked torso.

“Nothing,” You smile and walk over as he hands over your toothbrush too.

You spent more and more time here nowadays. It no longer felt strange when you’d pass his mum in the kitchen on an early morning. In fact, it had become a regular occurrence for you to be up earlier than Guzmán and he’d find you chatting away with his mother about anything and everything when he came downstairs. He loved that you got on so well with her, it made things so easy. He even got on with your family and practically become a big brother to your younger siblings. Your little sister loved using him for all of her latest ideas and science experiments and your little brother used him for any advice or questions he needed answering. It melted your heart every time you saw them together.

“You sure they need us at school today?” Guzmán pouts, leaning against the counter as he waits for you to finish getting ready too.

“We’re the best people at that place,” You joke, “Come on, we have a test fourth period as well and we never got round to revising last night.”

“There were more important matters at hand,” He squeezes your hips as he follows after you back into his bedroom, his chuckle ghosting over your skin.

- - - - - -

“Morning Samu,” Guzmán smiles as the two of you walk hand in hand into first period.

“Morning,” Samu frowns a little, “Why do you look so happy this morning?”

Ander laughs, “(Y/n) stayed the night.”

The boys laugh as the two of you sit down and Guzmán settles his arm over the back of your chair.

“Is there a problem boys?” He cocks a brow, “Come on, say your worst.”

“Nothing, nothing,” Samuel laughs, sitting down on the table across from where Omar and Ander sat.

“He’s just cuffed, that’s all,” Ander mumbles and the boys all laugh.

“And you’re not, Ander?” You quip, wiggling your brows as you look between him and Omar.

Guzmán laughs outwardly, glancing at you like you’d just said the funniest thing he’d heard. It was something he’d always listed as a quality he loved about you, you welcomed his friends and treated them like they were your own too. You weren’t weird about him spending time with the boys and never minded when he’d promised to spend the evening with Ander before you’d suggested plans. You could be one of the boys as well as his girlfriend. And he never knew that he’d find someone who balanced that so well.

Class begins and you become distracted quickly by Guzman’s arm around you, his fingertips brushing delicately across the top of your back.

“Guzmán,” You say quietly, “Stop distracting me. We both said we can’t afford to not graduate again.”

He laughs a little, dipping his head close to you as he responds, “You distracted me first, darling.”

“What’s gotten into you today?” You shake your head, “You’re like a boy with his first love.”

“Maybe I am,” He mutters, pecking your lips gently before turning back to listen to the rest of the class.

- - - - - -

You find yourself sat in the test, thanking yourself for making sure you’d been over some of the content with Guzmán that morning. You inputted your answers into the screen and kept stealing glances over at him to make sure he was doing the same.

He pokes his head around the side of his screen at looks at you with a smirk, “Thank you.”

You’d practically given him the answers - telling him everything he’d need to know as you were on your way to school that morning. It wasn’t that he couldn’t get away with it. But you knew he was so determined to graduate with you this year, both of you being held back, that he couldn’t possibly slip up yet.

He nods to gesture towards the book you had on the table to which you frown but instantly expect a typical Guzmán move - leaving little notes for you wherever he found the opportunity.

‘You left your book in my locker and I couldn’t resist. How does a Guzmán-special date sound for tonight? Dress code: finest attire.’

You glance up with a smile in his direction. A Guzmán-special, as he’d adequately named over the years, meant a date where you had no idea what you’d be doing, where you’d be going or what to bring if you needed anything. It had included the time he’d taken you to a water park, the time he took you for a walk on the beach, the time he attempted to cook a four course meal and many more.

You turn the page of your book and find another note on the next page.

‘Again, couldn’t resist. You look beautiful today.’

With that, the bell to signal the end of class and the end of the test sounds. Everyone filters out as you wait for Guzmán to collect his things and hand in an extra paper he’d done for the teacher - you were pleasantly surprised by how motivated he’d been recently.

“Right, you’re in track practise for the rest of the day and I’m going to head to the pool,” Guzmán comments, linking his hand with yours instantly, “So I’ll see you at the end of the day. I’ll meet you by your locker.”

“Yeah, okay,” You nod, reaching your lockers as you grab your gym bag and he does the same, “Can you at least give me a clue about tonight?”

“I told you - finest attire,” He shrugs, “Isn’t that enough?”

“What does finest attire mean?”

“Darling, you could wear a bin bag. You look fine in anything.”

“Now you’re just being corny,” You scoff as he closes your locker door and hands you the key.

“Is that so bad?” He shoots you a wink, walking ahead of you and turning to face you so he was walking backwards, “I’m full of surprises, (Y/n).”

“Just please don’t nearly burn down the house like last time,” You groan, following him through to the changing rooms.

“I promise - no attempts at cooking. I’ll see you later.”

You depart with a quick kiss as you go about the afternoon’s activities for the rest of the school day.

- - - - - -

When you’ve finished practice, you’re just about to walk back to the changing rooms when you catch someone sat on the grass.

“Guzmán? What are you doing?” You half laugh, diverting to walk over to him.

“I finished training early so I thought I’d come and watch your practice. You look good out there,” He stands up from the grass and brushes off his trousers, “I didn’t want to distract you.”

“You’re so cute,” You chuckle, “But I’m a red, sweaty mess after running that much so I’m sorry.”

“Hm, I hadn’t noticed,” He jokes, pulling out your water bottle and handing it to you with a smile, “Any talk about scholarships?”

“Yeah, they were saying that a few top universities would definitely give bursaries at least for sports excellence. So I might look into a few.”

That was one thing about Guzmán. He absolutely loved asking you about your future - like the thought of your success made everything so exciting to him. He’d always belittle his own and you had to make sure he didn’t do it too much as you encouraged him more than ever to have a little faith in himself.

Guzmán carries your gym bag for you in his free hand as you try to encourage him not to. It normally ends up with him swinging the bag above his head and you using your field techniques from high jump to grab it from him. He couldn’t really dispute after that.

And, as you’re walking through the sunny grounds of the school, you find yourself revelling in your own feelings of what perfection could be. A caring, conscientious, protective boyfriend who wanted nothing but the best for you somehow fell right at the top of whatever category you were in. And Guzmán checked all of the boxes with ease.

- - - - - -

At seven thirty, Guzmán comes into your house to pick you up for your date. He’d told you to be ready for eight but he always liked coming round a little earlier to spend a bit of time with the family.

You could already hear your siblings running to greet him and knew instantly that your sister would be showing off the new rocket she’d made at school. As you got ready, all you could imagine was him crouching down to their height and chatting away with any conversation they created, all whilst asking how your Mums job was going and complimenting your Dads new car.

Guzmán is talking to your brother about something when you start walking down the stairs. Instantly, he whispers to both of them and they turn to watch you.

“There she is,” He smiles, standing up with a bashful smile on his face as though it was the first time he’d seen you ready for a date.

He’s dressed in his best suit, a dark teal colour, and he’s paired it with the watch you bought him for Valentines Day. You wore a red velvet dress he’d mentioned loving when you bought it and a necklace that he’d bought you for Christmas. Both so alike in your reasons for your outfits, of course.

“I’ll have her home by midnight,” Guzmán confirms to your parents, knowing they’d lost interest in curfew quickly after they’d realised how much Guzmán cared for you, “Be good, kids.”

Guzmán links your arm with his and holds open the door, and the car door, as the two of you start to journey to wherever he’d chosen for this evening.

- - - - - -

You found yourself at what felt like the fanciest restaurant in the city, situated on a table on the cosy rooftop seating - surrounded by other couples alike and enough candles and heaters to defy the chill of the slight breeze outside.

“You look so beautiful,” He beams as the two of you sit opposite each other on the small table.

“You’ve never been so bad yourself, Guzmán,” You laugh, picking up your menu, “I don’t even know half of the stuff on this.”

“Can I say something?” He cuts in quickly, “And then we can figure out this menu together.”

You set it back down and look at him and only him - your eyes focused on every single feature, every freckle, every line from his smiles.

“I know we’re only young, and we’re hardly through much of our lives yet. But I don’t think hearts really run on a schedule like that. There’s no certain age when things happen, when they’re supposed to fall into place and when you’re meant to know that you’ve found something right. I see how Ander is with Omar and I know he’s found one of those people in him - someone who makes his heart stop searching, despite everything else they’ve been through. And I see your parents and I know it took them a little longer to find that person but they’ve found it now. I see my parents and question whether they ever found that at all,” He continues and the mention of his family hits your heart strings instantly.

You reach over and take his hand in your own like it’s instinct.

“But you, (Y/n) (Y/l/n), you seem to make everything else slow down. You make everything just pause for a little bit and seem just that little bit simpler. You’ve been with me through so much and it still baffles me that we’re so young with so much behind us already. We have so much future ahead of us and I’m so excited to see you succeed. I see your brother and sister and I can’t wait for us to have that for our own family, little mini-mes with my freckles, your hair, your heart. I know you hate when I get all corny because I make you cry. But I want to be the guy to make you cry like that always, and for those tears to always remind you of how loved you truly are.”

“Fuck, Guzmán,” You mutter, patting at the tears under your eyes, “You’re going to make me look like a mess.”

He laughs and shakes his head as he does, squeezing your hand.

“How are you so good at that?” You mutter, trying to shake off any more tears from coming through.

“Whatever future we have, I want you in mine - always.”

((((I’m sorry that this is the fluffiest thing ever but we move))))

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eltanin-malfoy · 4 years

Text

2019 Draco/Reader Secret Santa Fic Exchange - Secrets and Snowflakes

pairing: draco/slytherin!y/n (gender-neutral)

word count: 2.2k

warning(s): foreshadowing/general cluelessness, fluff, cursing

prompt: “The reader knows Draco has too much on his mind and offers that they go on an evening walk at Hogsmeade? Snowball fights ensue, snowman building (although Draco thinks it's silly), and maybe some kisses in between making snow angels?”

a/n: MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! so, this is it! I wrote a part with snow angles and snowman building but i cut it out later because i thought it didn’t fit too well with the rest. hopefully, i don’t disappoint :) (also shoutout to thesaurus.com, the real mvp) also ngl i’ve never seen snow, so this is basically my best guess of how it is. hopefully i’m not too off? lmk what you think. ALSO, this was written for @accio-taurus i hope you like it <3

taglist: @acciodracoo @drawlfoy @war-sword @socontagiousimagines @andreasworlsboring101

‘A tall blonde leans back into the emerald-dyed leather of the sofa he is parked on, right opposite the burning embers in the fireplace before him. His face is terrifyingly gaunt, characteristic of a beast who’s been running on empty for long enough, or on the blood of his enemies, rather. He is ridiculously rapt in writing on the parchment he seems to be clutching onto for dear life, the exquisite quill in his hand seeming to rattle off in rapid speed, ink leaving lines that were barely legible.’

Goddammit. This situation was dull even as you tried your best to interpret it interestingly. If only real life was some sort of mystery and Draco was a contract killer, detailing a plan for his next ordered murder. But no, he was too fainthearted to ever get up to something like that. Perhaps it would be more pleasant if this was a tale set in the sixteenth century and he was inditing a letter proclaiming his affection for his beloved. Then again, that wouldn’t be that much fun, considering his beloved was sitting right beside him, mortifyingly bored.

He was the only one actually engaged in doing something other than people watching (or maybe person watching would fit more, in this context). But what even was it he was so engrossed in writing? What kind of work was he so interested in that he’d even ignore his lovely in the secluded common room for it? You leaned over to peak at it.

But, eh, Draco was as secretive as ever. He immediately folded the pages in his lap, covering any text which was still visible with those large hands of his. You rolled your eyes at him and he grit his teeth, seemingly in defence, but his expression soon softened. “Some privacy, please.” He uttered, lowering his glance tentatively, then returning to his work.

You huffed and sat upright again, almost wishing the sofa would just swallow you outright. Maybe that would make things a bit more interesting. You wondered whether Draco would even try to save you, or whether he would just sit the way he was, scribbling away about Merlin knows what. Draco certainly wasn’t going to change up the situation on his own accord. So, you began to think it would be wise to switch things up, or at least try to.

“Draco~” You slinked over towards him, bringing your arms underneath his own and coiling them around his waist. He glanced to the side and folded the sheets of paper in his lap again, but slower this time. “Mhm?” He managed out, tucking them into his pocket and in a sudden act of warmth, turning to face you and placing his hands on yours.

“Why are we just sitting like this?” He narrowed his eyes. “Would you rather we stand?” He drawled out, then let his lips quirk up in the slightest of smiles. “That’s not what I mean…” You leaned over to press a kiss to the side of his mouth. “We’re supposed to be spending time together, and you’re just working. Or, like, whatever you’re doing. I don’t have a clue, it’s not like you’re ready to share it with me.” He sighed and rested his head over yours, shrugging and suddenly making you aware of how tense his body was, even in your grasp.

“You know I’m busy.”

“Yeah, on something you can’t even tell me about.”

“It’s just… with Father off.. and mum, you know how she is.”

“Yeah, she loves you so much she had you stay at Hogwarts for Christmas.”

“Y/N, no. It’s just... a thing, alright. It’s just not easy to explain.”

“You always say that!”

“Because it’s always true! It’s not like I made you stay here with me. Maybe you sh-” “Calm down. I-I don’t want to have a fight with you on Christmas Eve.”

He nodded and gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing uncertainly. You sat in silence for a few moments, letting your gaze drift down and take him in. What little of his skin you could see in that cable-knit black sweater of his was still that light tone of greige you’d grown used to by this point. He’d blamed it on getting a sunburn in the summer, but now that it had stayed unchanged for so many months, you’d understood that he’d lied. It’s not like you hadn’t asked him why he looked so very... different from how you’d last seen him the year before, but he’d asked you for some space, and for some reason, you’d decided to give him that much. Surely, having your father imprisoned (in Azkaban, that too) meant you’d need that much. Or at least, you thought so.

“Draco.” “Yes?” “Why do you look like you’re about to attend a funeral?”

He smiled at that. Genuinely. Even the reddened skin beneath his eyes crinkled slightly at it.

“Shut up.”

“No, seriously.”

“It’s just… my taste in fashion. What am I supposed to say?” “Your taste in fashion is funeral clothing?”

“You know what? Maybe it is.”

His chest heaved slightly and you realised he was laughing. At your awful, awful joke. Such a sweetheart. You kissed his cheek, taking advantage of the lack of other Slytherins around, at least at the moment.

“Oh, come on. It’s nearly Christmas! You’re supposed to look a little bit merrier than that!”

“Christmas themed clothing isn’t really my forte.” “Fine, but you look like you’re literally en route to a funeral. Scribbling out a eulogy even.”

“I can live with that.”

“Fine!”

You giggled and nuzzled his neck, inhaling deeply. He’d stopped smelling as expensive as he used to and you weren’t exactly sure why. But then again, you could guess. You supposed it didn’t really matter. The Slytherin common room felt a little bit homely like this, with the two of you all alone and in love. You looked at the fire, then back up at him. His eyelids were shut, and he’d only now begun to relax.

“We should do something together. Something festive and romantic.”

“Y/N… I’m not going to lie to you. I’m not exactly in the mood for that at the moment.”

“Ugh, you’re disgusting. That wasn’t what I was implying in the first place, pervert.”

“Then what were you implying?”

“A walk.” “What, when it’s so cold and snowy out?” “Hey. For the sake of romance, alright? And it’s not even that bad. It’s pleasant. It’s so pretty out.”

“Please, for me?”

He opened his eyes and tilted his head to face you the best he could. He bit down on his lower lip, pearly whites almost complementing the pallor of his lips. He shut his eyes again, fair lashes brushing against his cheekbones, before he opened them up again, grey eyes dilated and almost woozy. “Alright, I suppose. Where do you want to walk to?”

“Hogsmeade.”

***

“It’s cold.” “Yeah, no shit.”

You held his gloved hand as little snowflakes rained down on you. Draco pulled the hood of his brown parka (definitely a gift from his mum) over his head and scrunched his nose, looking up at the sky in concentration. His cheeks, and even his nose, were flushed, a dusty rose thanks to the cold. God, he was so adorable. Even while he looked unhealthily pale.

“The things you do for love, I suppose.” “Uh, yes, of course. Can’t you handle a little chill? ‘S not that bad.” “... I like the warm weather a little more, you know that.”

It was almost ironic coming from him, an extremely pale person who could get sunburnt within seconds. Sometimes you really wondered what he’d gotten up to during his holidays. You knew he’d visited some part of Asia before on vacation, but other than that, did he just loiter around his estate? He’d probably gotten up to a little less mischief this time, though, what with his father-

“You know,”

“No, I don’t.” “You know, it’s not awful.” “Did you think it would be awful? You’d still be out with me, right?” “Eh, only makes it a little bit better.” He smirked but gulped again, the curl of his lips more nervous than anything else. He squeezed your hand but looked away again, his gaze oddly distant.

“Are you alright?” “‘Course.”

You looked out at the cotton white expanses of land near you, right at the outskirts of Hogsmeade. And very suddenly, a very devious train of thought hit you. You bit your lip and fixed up the beanie over top of your head, pulling it down tightly to cover your ears and whatever other skin it possibly could. You pulled your hand away from his and pulled the hems of your sleeves up to cover what little of the skin of your wrists was exposed.

“Are you cold?” “No, not really.” “Hm.. alright. We can go for a hot chocolate if you like.”

“No.. I’m more in the mood for some snow.” “Um.. sure, I suppose I don’t mind.”

Draco turned to the side and put his hand in his pocket, taking out the same parchment again. And then you knew, it was definitely appropriate to take action. You knelt to the ground and carefully reached for the ground, balling up some snow in your fist. You were thankful you had gloves on because even with them on, you could already feel them getting damp. The slight breeze and the tiny little snowflakes blowing past you obviously weren’t helping.

You shivered and looked towards the lanky boy who’d come with you, but he was clearly just absorbed with whatever was written on the paper in his hands. “You know, I should’ve made you leave those behind.” He shuffled slightly and swallowed again. “Hm? What?” He kept looking down. You stood up and shook your head. He deserved this, didn’t he?

You threw the ball of snow you’d managed to make forward, but instead of hitting his chest, as you’d wanted to, it hits his arm. In retrospect, this was probably more advisable. Draco jumped where he stood, letting out a squeal. “What the fuck?” He shoved the parchment into his anorak’s pocket haphazardly and looked down at you, eyebrows crinkled and forehead deeply furrowed. He brought his hand up and set it on the now wet part of his coat.

“Oh, come on, Draco. It’s just a bit of fun.”

“This is fun? Are you actually twelve years old?”

“Draco! You can have a snowball fight at any age.” “Yes, and be childish!” “You say that, but I know how competitive you are.” “What? I won’t do something so... immature, though.”

You wiggled your eyebrows at him and he just rolled his eyes. He looked to the side and shrugged his shoulders, stretching out each of his limbs one by one. You then took the liberty to lean down and throw a snowball at his back. He moaned in surprise, stumbling on his feet. “Merlin, you know what!” He turned and faced you, hands on his hips. “It’s on.” He bent over and balled up a handful of snow himself, but of course, you were a step ahead of him. “Protego!” You called out, your wand drawn as the translucent shield manifested itself in front of you.

“Hey! That’s cheating!” “All’s fair in-” “Shut up. This is unfair! I didn’t even get the chance to do that myself. Come on.” “Dr-” “Be a sport, come on.”

You sighed and put your wand away, the barrier in front of you fading away as Draco aimed for the front of your body. Ouch! Oh, this was war, and you were so ready.

***

Here you were, nearly twenty minutes later, crouching by the ground together. Tears (? or maybe it was just melted snow?) were dripping down your cheeks, your lungs practically about to burst while the two of you were probably laughing harder than you had in ages. The colour on his cheeks really suited him and you couldn’t help but wonder why you hadn’t seen it in so long. You crept closer to him and put your arms around his shoulders.

“You look so happy.” Peck. “I missed this.”

“Spending time together? But we always do that.” “Yeah, but.. you’re always preoccupied. You’re either just working on something else at the same time, or just… thinking about something else.” “I’m sorry, but you know how it is… with my father.” “I know, but, you don’t even talk to me about it.”

“I… I can’t-” “You know you can tell me anything.”

“No, I know, it’s just that... I can’t.”

“Why not? You act as if you’re on some secret mission or something.” “What?!” Blood rushed to his face.

“I-I mean, you’re always so secretive about everything you’re doing. You say it’s just… extra prefect duties but I don’t even see the others doing anything like it.”

“It’s really not-”

He pressed his lips together and just shook his head. That distinct greyish tinge to his skin was even more evident against the snow, you realised. What was up with him?

“Listen, it’s not worth getting into a fight over.. whatever this is. And you know everything I can even tell you. So, just-just remember… that I love you.”

“You can’t just silence me over this, but I suppose it can wait. I love you too.” And you pressed a kiss to his lips, soft and smiling and still stumped. The questions you’d been holding back for a long time were right at the surface now, you were too curious to leave them be. But you thought Christmas cheer was good enough a reason to withhold them.

#draco x reader #draco x female reader #draco x male reader #draco x gender neutral reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco #hp #draco malfoy imagine #hp imagine #romance #established relationship #winter #christmas #2019 secret santa fic exchange

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mercykrp · 3 years

Photo

ACCESSING FILE #00016589 . . . SONG YEJIN is a 23 year old UNREGISTERED mutant with BLOOD MANIPULATION. Last known employment: UNEMPLOYED. She looks suspiciously like JUNG HOYEON, no?

OOC INFORMATION

Name/Alias: Mio

Age: 23

Pronouns She/her

Timezone: Gmt-5

Triggers: None.

Reserve Password: N/A

IC INFORMATION

Faceclaim: Jung Hoyeon, model

Name: Song Yejin

D.O.B/Age: February 20, 1997 (23)

Gender/Pronouns: Cisfemale, she/her

Occupation: Unemployed

Status: Unregistered

Ability: Blood manipulation

BIOGRAPHY

III. “Police say it was a ‘night of horror.’”

Father straightens up in his seat, unbowing from over his meal. “Turn that up,” he orders, but Mother is already scrambling to jab the remote at the TV. She lands on her knees in front of the news anchor’s too-stiff shoulders, casted in flickering shadows bold and blue. A child, eager for her daily cartoon.

[DEATH OF COUNCILOR SEO HYUNWOO]

Yejin drops her eyes down to the table. Her wooden chopsticks lay off to the side, meal forgotten. They, too, are dipped in red, seeping through the edges.

“Last night, Councilor Seo was victim of a stabbing just outside of Seoul’s Gangnam district.”

Father snorts. “Is that what they’re calling it?”

Well, Yejin supposes, they’re not exactly wrong.

“Paramedics were called to the scene, but were unable to revive the Councilor. He succumbed to his injuries en route to the hospital." The anchor thins her lips into a grim line. "Although no details have been released to the public, the police have coined the attack as mutant in origin.”

“There it is!” Mother whoops over the anchor’s sympathetic tone—he is survived by his wife and two children—because there it is. For all its posturing, news is never more than morsels, stuck to the corners of the mouth and sputtered out. But that hardly ever matters; details are the crumbs. Mutant is the center.

Reputation carries into death, after all. Unto it.

“Our Yejin’s a celebrity now.” Father grins. “So to speak.”

Yes, her blood would be impossible to miss, mingled with Councilor Seo’s. It’s in the exit wound, the entry, in the bloom across his shirt. The flecks that dot hers. A double helix, swirling.

A mutant is the killer. Was. Will be. An inevitable conclusion, no doubt. Nameless, but with unmistakable blood. A weapon.

None other than her.

I. Here, peace is nourished with blood

She is weaned on hatred, straight from her mother’s breast. Home is full of it, even. Amidst the uncles and the aunties and the sleight of hand, between the crack of the door and the squeak of the floorboards. Beneath packets of Vitamin C.

We barely have anything, says the spoonful of rice. But they take it anyway, she returns, more recite than reply. Father looks up expectantly. Remember to chew it up before you swallow.

Ink is the spark. Her youth is filled with protests (when they are peaceful), riots (when they are not). How easy it is to hate, she thinks, when uniformed plastic is all venom-tipped teeth can sink into. How easy it is to hate, to bash at forms of pallid skin and tattered hair. It barely seems human.

Thus, it is normal to seek blood. It is the only thing that links us, after all. We are corralled into this.

The first time her flesh is sliced open, Yejin’s gasp cuts through the night air. Little more than a nick on a finger, too cautious to turn pages. But her blood becomes a needle, emotion-sharp and jutting into the air. Ready to defend for her. Ready to attack for her, Mother later amends.

Blood is the fire. No more protests, no more riots. No, she is meant for something more. But she is not carted off like a secret. The heralds of her future are none other than her uncles and aunties, always on the periphery. Unsurprising, in retrospect.

Uncle becomes sect, auntie becomes leader. She learns words like rebel and resistance, hope and revolution. They are small in number, scattered across the country. But the time will come, they say, when there will only be one.

Her parents do not change, at least. Only now she joins them on their walks far too late into the night.

She becomes the tip of the spear, one among many. Honed into a weapon, molded into the means. In the end, blood can only fill what it is poured into, no matter how it stains the edges.

II. This is my blood, which is shed for the many

The Councilor is steeped in a multitude of strange habits.

But perhaps they are only a matter of circumstance. She hesitates to name them for what they are. Who is she, a mere observer, to judge what the Councilor does or does not do with his time? Still, she thinks herself rather fortunate. Said habits have made the Councilor into a cautious man. More likely to drive off, alone, down a winding road towards a decrepit looking bar. Away from Gangnam’s infrared eyes.

What does he find here? she wonders. Whom?

Circumstance would have the Councilor slink out from a side door into Yejin’s waiting path. Fortunate, indeed. He does not notice her at first, still and silent underneath the dim light of a streetlamp. Little more than an incongruity, after all. She is well used to it. A plume of smoke trails behind him, acrid and stinging. But at its very top, a note of perfume, feather-light against her cheek.

It takes him a moment, but he throws a haphazard brow in her direction, nearly stumbling over his feet. He moves to brush past her. Yejin intercepts.

The noise he makes is one of frustration, a cross between a growl and a huff of breath, caught in the back of his throat. “Listen…” He drags out the word, a heavy-tongued hiss, and holds up a palm to ward against her. “Whatever… you want right now. Interview, autograph… money?” He scoffs. “'m really not in the mood, so just. Please.”

Money, hm? It always comes down to money. But they are far past the point of it, now. Now…

She gives him a ghost of a smile. “They cry for blood.”

A shard of ox-red bursts from her palm and pierces through his heart. The Councilor jerks in place, eyes wide, lips still formed around a syllable that gave way to nothing but air. What? She imagines him saying. He hacks a cough, mouth shuddering around rivulets of red. What was that about blood?

Yejin does not blink at the spattered warmth against her skin, nor at the bloom that overtakes his shirt. She keeps their gazes locked and watches it all: the tightening of the lids, the dilation of the pupils. The body is responding to pain. Her blood swirls idly between them, a viscous shimmer contained within crystal walls. His flesh sizzles in protest. And so they stand, frozen, a tableau locked in red. Beautiful, grotesque.

With a flick of her wrist, the moment shatters. The Councilor sags to his knees like a puppet cut from its strings, red fading out into air. Yejin cradles him in her arms, bends as he bends, helping the weight of him down onto the ground.

He is barely conscious when she rises, still hovering over his form. "Please.” Yejin tilts her head at him. “Is that your last word?”

Nothing but a gurgle of the throat, expelled from rapidly cooling lips.

“I cannot tell your family.” She frowns, regret softly spoken. A stone dropped into water. “But I promise to remember.“

Remember it. Remember you. The part of me left in you. A double helix, swirling.

ABILITIES

BLOOD MANIPULATION

Constructs - Yejin can form solid haemokinetic constructs capable of interacting with the environment, in ways such as stabbing, coiling around a target, etc.

Since her abilities are primarily used for offense, she often forms her blood into a shard or spear-like shape. This can range from a single shard, multiple shards in a group, a whip, or tendrils that extend out across a certain distance.

Can also form a rudimentary shield to block projectiles, though it is the weakest of her constructs due to lack of practice.

She has not explored other applications, though technically any form is possible.

Her blood itself has corrosive properties that burn through most organic materials, namely flesh and bone.

Yejin’s manipulation is limited to her own blood pool; she can neither control others’ blood nor can she create new blood.

The solidity/effectiveness/range of her constructs is dependent on her skill, focus, and energy.

She must draw blood before using her abilities. This can be as simple as a prick of the finger. The constructs are not reflective of the size of the wound, but they will naturally be stronger the more blood she expels.

Requires a recovery period after drawing a large volume of blood. In this state, she will exhibit symptoms of anemia due to blood loss: fatigue, lightheadedness, shortness of breath, etc.

On that note, she may bleed to death if she draws too much blood at once, or across a short period of time.

#krp #krpg #oc krp #mrcaccepted

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saiilorstars · 4 years

Text

It Had To Be You

Ch.9: A Partner’s Beginning // Story Masterlist

Fandom: The Flash

Pairings: Barry Allen x Original Female Character

Summary: Belén and Barry are just starting to figure out how to work with each other as partners. Around the same time, Barry comes face to face with an old childhood bully that still manages to hurt him. It’s only when he remembers that he’s no longer alone that he’s finally able to leave the past in the past.

Pronunciation of OC’s name: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Rayan Palayta couldn't stop reading articles and reports of the new vigilante that had made her debut in Starling City with the Arrow, Black Canary, Speedy and so on. That same vigilante was now one of the top stories being sold by the CC Picture News despite it being weeks after her first initial appearance in the city. Iris West was one of the lead reporters in that area and Rayan couldn't help suspect that the woman had no idea who this new vigilante was.

"So-" Maritza's voice made him look up from the laptop in front of him, "-this is where you're keeping yourself up now?" she made a gesture to the abandoned warehouse they were in. She walked into the small office where Rayan had secluded himself in for almost the entire day - as stated by Angela (or Pixel as she now liked to call herself).

"It was part of the gang of robbers I took care off a while ago," Rayan gave a shrug of his shoulders and clicked the link to a new article on the computer. "Decided to use it since Pixel's beginning to give me headaches," he rubbed his temples where he could feel an echo of said headaches.

"Pixel?" Maritza repeated, musing on what the switch of names could mean. "Is that what you're calling the ex?" Rayan rolled his eyes but said nothing. Instead, he focused on the article that gave origin points of the new vigilante. "Can't say I'm not happy to see that ending," Maritza said, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall, "Angela's kind of weird, but even I have to say that it's not technically her fault she nearly killed our dear sister."

At the mention of Belén, Rayan's eyes raised from the computer again. His face was stone cold and yet...he was guilty. He was guilty he nearly killed his sister without realizing. He had given the order to eliminate the new vigilante that was seemingly in the city to help out the Flash. He couldn't believe his ears when Pixel had returned with the news that the new vigilante had turned out to be none other than Belén. Rayan had raged, and somewhere along there, had blasted Pixel across her own living room, crashing several of her ornaments.

"If it helps-" Maritza leaned off the wall and moved towards the desk, "-my friend has nothing new to report on Belén. I thought that maybe Belén knew who the Flash was so I set my friend up in her job but she's been perfectly normal with no vigilante business."

"That he can see," Rayan reminded. "Let's not forget that he's not exactly friends with her."

"Alright, so he becomes closer to her, makes friends with her," Maritza shrugged. "Then what? What are we going to do now that we know Belén is a metahuman?"

"Metahuman," Rayan rolled his eyes at the silly name they'd been branded with apparently.

"Rayan," Maritza called again, sharper. "The plan was to get Belén away from the city but now that it's clear she's not going anywhere, we're going to need to do something else."

"What else can we do?" Rayan rubbed his temples again. That headache was starting to come back. "If she's a meta like us, then we should get her to join us."

Maritza blinked and straightened up. "A-are...are you sure about that? Let's not forget Belén thinks you're dead."

"I know, I know, but...once I explain to her what happened...she'll see why I preferred to stay dead. If she's so keen on finding me...what's the big deal?"

"I think the 'big deal' has to do with that speedster already getting into her head. Let's not forget the fact she's already been a hero in Starling city with the Arrow. Why would she want to join us?"

"Because we're her family," Rayan stood up from his chair. "Who else would Belén choose over us?"

Maritza leveled his stare for a moment before looking away. "It won't be easy...but...maybe you're right."

"Of course I am," Rayan smirked. "So we should start working on that before she really becomes a hero and loses us."

~ 0 ~

"Cisco, I'm not wearing a skirt," Belén shook her head in the most polite way possible, but the action still had Cisco groaning in frustration. Caitlin sat at the other end of the desk, laughing to herself but giving the appearance of working on something else.

"But why not? It'll be a very pretty skirt, I promise, see?" Cisco gestured to the computer in front of them with the design of what would later become Belén's new super suit.

Now that they had began examining Belén's new biology and grasped a basic understanding of her powers, Cisco felt it was time for her to suit up. He would rather die than let her continue on with the outfit given to her by the 'Arrow cave'. Belén was excited for it, honestly, but they were just having creative differences.

"I'm not wearing a skirt if I'm gonna be out there helping Barry," Belén still refused much to Cisco's dismay.

Cisco made a motion with his hands for them to be calm and start over. "Okay, hear me out now," he said, warning her to let him speak first before she shot him down again. Belén got comfortable in her seat, crossing her arms and legs, to listen to him. "You need your suit to be more open to accommodate your powers. You said your vines can come through your hands and body which means the suit needs to have some openings. True or not true?"

Belén rolled her eyes but gave her confirming nod. "Yes, I know. And I am all for it if it means it'll make it easier to use my powers. That, however, does not mean that I have to go out in a miniskirt. Caitlin?"

Cisco glanced back at the silent brunette who of course had a side to choose. "She's right," Caitlin said with a small smile.

"You can't send me out there barely clothed, Cisco. I fall and I scrape my legs. I like my legs, Cisco, and I want them to be protected. Don't you?" Belén raised a questioning eyebrow. Cisco couldn't help give her legs a look-over. She chuckled and playfully hit him in the arm. "Stop looking at my legs!"

"Then work with me here!" Cisco let his head fall on the desk with a thud, causing Belén to lose it with another round of laughter.

"I think I broke Cisco," she told Caitlin, quite victoriously.

"Oh, he's finally quiet, thank you," Caitlin patted Cisco's back.

"Shut up," came Cisco's muffled order.

"Bells?" Barry had come into the room, making the ombre-blonde look back. He was about to say something when he saw Cisco still with his head on the desk. "What's…"

"I broke the great Cisco Ramon," Belén giggled and poked Cisco on the arm. "And over a skirt."

"Over a skirt?" Barry scoffed and came up to the three.

"When you say it like that of course it sounds bad!" Cisco pulled himself up and shot a warning look to Barry. He would not have Barry also ganging up on him like that.

"Cisco's trying to help me with a new suit," Belén finally explained. "But we seem to have disagreeing ideas…"

"Many," added Caitlin.

"It's not my fault Bells is being complicated!" Cisco exclaimed, earning himself a sharp look from said woman.

"You're the one trying to make me wear a mini-skirt for me to fight crime!"

"A mini-skirt?" Barry raised his eyebrows, barely getting a minute to think about that when someone smacked him on the stomach. He doubled over, groaning.

"That was for thinking about it," Belén got up from her seat then turned to Caitlin. "Honestly, Caitlin, I don't know how you put up with these two."

"I try my best," Caitlin dramatically said, now earning herself some sharp looks from Barry and Cisco.

"Bells, c'mon," Cisco began but the ombre-blonde cut him off.

"No! I don't want skirts," Belén left it clear for him. "I'm not made of steel, I do get hurt."

Barry was recovering from the blow and exhaled deeply. "Follow her instructions, Cisco, please." He then made a gesture to Belén for her to walk ahead.

"Hm," Belén threw him a look before grabbing her bag off the desk.

"Don't forget your treats," Caitlin reminded as she got up and walked across the room.

"Cait, that makes me sounds like a dog," Belén crinkled her nose.

"You know what I meant," Caitlin returned holding three wrapped up bars in her hands. "These should help you with your sugar levels."

"Yay," Belén said meekly as she took the bars and shoved them into her bag. As it turned out, her dizzy spells were part of her new metahuman abilities. Because her body was now divided with new Azalea genetics, her body required more sugar that she was not ingesting.

Cisco joked it was her needing to do photosynthesis.

Belén had promptly smacked him upside the head for it.

The bars that Caitlin and Cisco had made were specifically created to raise her sugar levels on a daily basis and thus prevent anymore side effects from harming her. Belén could definitely go without those min-episodes.

"Let's go," Barry told the ombre-blonde metahuman. She gave him a nod and in a second he had sped them to her block.

"That's still weird," she giggled as they began normally walking towards her house.

"Didn't seem so weird when 'the Streak' did it to you," Barry smirked. "In fact, you looked more in awe. And you certainly liked it."

"Shut up befoe I smack you again," she warned then came to an abrupt stop. "So, um, when exactly were you planning on telling me that you and Iris are on a no talk basis now?"

The question froze Barry in his tracks. He turned around and met her expectant look.

"I know I'm a bit slow sometimes but I've figured it out. It's been a while since I got back, and coincidentally the next day you stop talking to her. What, was it my fault you argued?"

"No," Barry quickly said to her, coming back to her, "It's just…" he sighed, "...she's been writing about us, Bells. Joe asked me to talk to her and it didn't work. I got frustrated with her not listening so I...may have asked her not to talk to me."

"Why would you do that, Barry?" Belén whispered, looking horrified. "She's your friend - practically sister!"

"I know-"

"And if there's anyone you should be upset with that she's still writing it's with me! I visited her and now I gave her more fuel. Don't be mad with her. Be made with me."

"No, it's not your fault. I'm genuinely worried about what could happen to her…"

"I get it, don't think I don't. Joe wants to keep his daughter safe and you just want her to be okay. But in the long run, I think it's Iris who should make the decision. I understand completely what it feels like having this passion for writing. It's my life, honestly. And once you find your subject, there is hardly anything anyone can do to make you stop."

"Hardly?" Barry repeated and noticed a strange shift in Belén's face.

"Let's just say...I had to leave some things..." she said and left it to that. "Thanks for bringing me home. Dad's been a bit on the fence of where I'm at now that I'm back. He thinks by having me hitch rides it's a sure way that I'll come home early." Because when she came back to the city, her father had taken the car privileges away for a while. Belén thought that was a bit fair.

"Tell him you were with me then," Barry then blinked when he realized how it came off and immediately set to correct it, but his stammering prevented a full sentence, "I-I m-mean...y-you know...like, uh...l-like...w-well...I mean…"

Belén covered her laugh with a hand and walked past him for her front porch. "I think I'll just say I was with some friends." She turned around, taking small steps backwards to the porch. "Cos if I say I was with the Streak he wouldn't get a kick out of it like others would."

"Yeah…"

"Take my advice about Iris though - just tell her already." And with that, Belén bid him goodnight.

~ 0 ~

Some time later that night, Belén had pulled out her laptop to finish her work for CC Pictures. Her father walked by with a coffee mug and sat down beside her on the couch. When Belén realized he was staring at her she gently closed the lid of her laptop and met his eyes.

"Hi, Dad," a fleeting smile graced her lips. "Can I help you with something?"

"What were you reading?"

"Um, well, to be honest, I was giving Iris' blog a glimpse. She posted something new a couple minutes ago." And Belén was not happy to see it. While she stood by her statements she didn't want Iris getting hurt. Perhaps if she knew the truth it would sway her from that specific topic, or at the very least make her articles more cautiously.

Belén's father sighed and shook his head, clearly disapproving as well. "That girl is just looking for trouble. I like Iris, she's a very sweet young woman but this blog is going to get her in trouble. The city's not safe anymore with all these people with powers. They're all evil."

"Not everyone," Belén softly disagreed.

David scoffed, picking up his mug from the coffee table. "Honey, you've seen the news. Lots of people are getting hurt out there."

"Yes, but many of others are getting saved. Let's not clump all metahumans as evil."

"What?" David gave her a sharp glance.

Belén's eyes widened and coughed nervously. "Nothing. I said we shouldn't brand all people as bad."

David tilted his head and stared another minute at Belén. Sheepishly, she rubbed her arm and tried upholding his look. "Are you okay, Belén?"

"M-me? Yeah, Dad," Belén lightly smiled.

"You know, ever since you got back, you're...you seem different."

"D-different?"

"Yes. Time was you used to be completely engulfed with school and your friends and your internship."

"Dad, I graduated..."

"Yes, but your friends, they're not around anymore."

"What are you talking about? I do have friends-"

"Not the same ones." David put his muttered on the coffee table and shifted in Belén's direction. "Hilary, remember her?"

"Of course I remember Hilary."

"And then Jason, and Meghan, and all the others. They're not around anymore."

Belén sighed. "Dad, Hilary is getting used to her new job across the city. Jason moved and Meghan went on to graduate school. Everyone's got things to do."

"What about Iris?"

"What about her?"

"Haven't seen her in a while either."

"She, um...she's a having some complications with, uh, with Barry. She's not exactly in the talking mood."

"But you are," David gave her another look that she didn't understand. "It's just, since you got back I rarely see you with Iris now. It's either that Caitlin Snow-"

"Dr. Caitlin Snow," Belén wagged a finger. "She didn't go to school for people to overlook her title."

"Right," David playfully rolled his eyes. "Dr. Caitlin Snow, and Cisco Ramon, or Barry. They're not exactly the people I would expect you to be around…"

"They're good people and I like being with them," Belén smiled. "Don't go all 'They're from STAR Labs so they can't be good' on me."

David shook his head. "No, I wouldn't do that. despite what Harrison Wells caused to the city, I do respect his employees' loyalty to him. But sweetie, how long have you known Cisco and Caitlin, again?"

"Ten months."

"And then you met Barry how?"

"Through...Iris…?" Belén was barely making the connections when her father finally explained.

"You've known Iris for years and I don't think it's right you sideline her for these new people you haven't known for long."

"Oh my God Dad!" Belén chuckled. "I am not sidelining Iris for them! I just happen to have, um...a connection with them. That's all."

David raised an eyebrow and said nothing for the next minute. Then suddenly, he asked, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, Dad, I'm fine," Belén couldn't help smile out of flushness.

"Alright," David clapped his knees and got up, appearing to be done with the subject but Belén doubted it would be the last she would hear about it. He grabbed his mug and walked by, planting a kiss on her head. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Goodnight, Daddy," Belén smiled after him.

She waited for him to leave before diving back into her computer. There was much to do after all!

~ 0 ~

Caitlin was in utter shock as she went over the various injuries Barry had managed to get in the span of a five minute fight with another metahuman.

"13 fractures," she began listing off to Barry, who laid in bed wincing at her scolding tone, while Cisco and Dr. Wells listened silently. "That's a whole new record! And not to mention that's only just in your hand. You also have a concussion, three cracked ribs, and a bruised spleen. Even with your powers, you'll need a few hours to heal."

When Dr. Wells was sure Caitlin had finished, he made the question all of them were curious to know about. "What exactly did you hit?"

"A man," Barry sighed, recalling the terrible fight. "A big, bad man. His skin changed when I hit him. Like, it turned to metal."

Wells raised his eyebrows as he thought about the new metahuman. "Interesting. A man of steel."

"So you went after a meta-human alone?" Even Cisco was disappointed in Barry for his abrupt encounter with the metahuman. "Dude, why didn't you call us?"

"I didn't know what he was," Barry said meekly before adding, "Besides, I was off-duty." And he would rather not go into detail about what that meant exactly.

"You're lucky he didn't knock out your teeth," Cisco pointed seriously. "Those puppies don't grow back."

"The strange thing is I feel like I knew him…" Barry admitted, still confused himself.

"What do you mean?" Wells inquired.

"He said something that was familiar, but he's gonna hurt someone if we don't stop him. So how do I fight a guy that's made of steel?"

"We will find a way. Tonight, you heal."

Barry had no energy to fight about that. He nodded his head and prepared for some sleep, or at the very least a nap.

~ 0 ~

Belén was close to finishing her article for the day and couldn't be happier about it. It was nice getting back to a normal life - especially one with a good income. CC Picture News had been happy to receive her back as an official employee and had already tasked her with several important articles. She'd even made some new co-worker friends besides Linda and Iris.

"Scuse me?" a young man stopped by her desk with a manila folder in his hands.

Belén looked away from her computer to meet the freckled-face of a dark-haired man with blue eyes. She'd seen him around but never actually talked to him. "Hi, can I help you?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry about it..." the man started, chuckling nervously. Belén raised an eyebrow, confused of course. The man cleared his throat awkwardly and smiled at her. "Um, I'm Noah Gilan and I'm sort of a cub-reporter..."

"Oh, you're the new one Linda took on, right?" Belén recalled the various times she'd seen him tail Linda around.

Noah nodded his head. "Yeah, and she said you might be helpful in helping me write an article."

"Me?" Belén repeated, sounding (and looking) surprised. "I don't know, I mean...I'm sure there's plenty more experienced writers. I literally just started as an official employee a couple weeks ago."

"No, that's good - I mean, for me, cos...you know...some of the older people around here are sort of..." Noah leaned forwards to whisper, "...rude."

Belén chuckled. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"Anyways, Linda said that you might be interested in being partners for a while. Just until I get the hang of things around here."

"I mean...if I can help then I will," Belén shrugged, not finding a problem. "It'd be nice to co-write some articles. I've done some already with my friend, Iris?"

"West?" Noah recalled. "Yeah, I've talked to her but I don't really know her."

"Well, she's a fantastic writer too if you ever want to find another partner," Belén said. "But in the meantime...you got any ideas for some new articles?" she asked with a sly look.

~ 0 ~

Come lunch time, Belén found herself swept by a certain speedster only a couple steps from CC Pictures. She was all fond of the easy manner of getting around but not when she had literally promised her new co-worker/partner she would have lunch him. She already wasn't very happy with Barry and the others for not informing her about his encounter with the new metahuman last night. Getting a simple text in the morning was not sufficient.

"Woah, new guy we need to talk about?" Cisco immediately raised an eyebrow at the ombre-blonde, apparently having selective hearing because that was the only thing that caught his attention.

Belén rolled her eyes and hopped onto a table, letting her legs dangle. "I'm helping someone," she shot Barry a look, the latter currently taking a seat on the edge of the gurney-bed. "Next time call me, no?"

"Sorry, I was a bit distracted," Barry sighed. "I found out who our new metahuman is and I happen to know him."

"From where?" Caitlin came into the side room with a mug of coffee.

"His name is Tony, and he was my goddamn awful bully when I was eleven," Barry still appeared angry about the whole thing. "He used to bully me whenever he got the chance, and I was never able to do anything about it."

"Your childhood nemesis is now an unstoppable meta-human," Cisco gawked at the idea. "That is seriously messed up."

"I had a childhood nemesis. Lexi La Roche," Caitlin narrowed her eyes as she thought about her own bully. "She used to put gum in my hair."

"Jake Puckett," Cisco pretended to shiver. "If I didn't let him copy my homework he'd give me a swirly."

"I didn't really have a bully," Belén had her head tilted to the side, seemingly trying to think about one bully in her childhood. "Everyone just...seemed to like me…"

The other three traded looks among each other while Belén continued to think.

"Now that we've established that we're all uber-nerds," Barry began and glanced towards Belén, "except Belén who was clearly one of the popular girls-"

"Hey," Belén frowned his way. "It's not my fault no one wanted to bully me. I was nice to people, unlike you who speeds people out of their lunch plans." And as a mature gesture, she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Nice," Barry remarked, rolling his eyes. "Anyways, what are we gonna do about Tony?"

Cisco clapped his hands together, smirking. "Glad you asked. We're gonna train you, man. Karate Kid style."

"Hmm, I'm interested in seeing how this plays out," Belén said to Caitlin as they followed after Cisco.

He led them into another side room where a metal figure had been set in the middle. With its makeshift head and metal bar arms, it could almost be seen as a punching bag.

"Behold! I call him Girder!" Cisco gestured to the figure as he went over to a table.

Barry raised an eyebrow and glanced back at Caitlin. She, seeing his thoughts, immediately said, "For the record, not my idea."

"What is this supposed to be?" Belén seemed oddly amused by the metal figure as she walked around it. "It looks kind of funny...oh!" she clapped her hands, "Like one of those villains on movies!"

"I don't understand how you didn't get bullied," Cisco returned with a control hanging from his neck. "You just have that…thing people want to mess with."

"What thing?" Belén stared at him a long while, not understanding his insinuation.

"Nothing," Barry reached out for her arm and pulled her away from the metal figure.

"But he just said…"

"It really doesn't matter, he's wrong," Barry left her by the doorway where Caitlin was and turned back for Cisco, making a cutting motion across his neck. The last thing they needed was to further annoy Belén for the day.

"So," Cisco received the message and focused on the 'training' that was supposed to happen, "fighting is physics. It's not about strength. It's not about size. It's about energy and power. Channel your speed the right way and you can totally take this bad boy down. Now obviously your Girder is a moving target. So... I have ice and bandages standing by."

"What a reassurance," Caitlin mumbled so that only Belén was to hear. Both were completely disapproving of the idea. Nothing good would come out of it.

While Barry wasn't so keen on the idea of fighting this metal thing, he realized his options were oh-so-limited. He started to punch the figure in a speedy manner while dodging its movements Cisco enacted via the control. He would switch sides every so often but in the end the device proved a little quicker and punched him near the shoulder. Barry fell to the floor with a loud thud...and a crack somewhere.

"I'm pretty sure I just dislocated my shoulder," Barry groaned and clutched said shoulder.

While Cisco remained back to fix the Girder, Caitlin attended to Barry in another room. Seeing it was definitely a dislocated shoulder, she prepared him for the worst. "Okay, not gonna lie. This is gonna be quick but extremely painful."

"This was a stupid idea from the start," Belén was watching them attentively from the threshold. "Even I'm not that clueless!"

"Thanks, Bells," Barry winced. "I can always count on you to make me feel better."

Belén shrugged. "Great that you can!"

Barry heard his cellphone go off and struggled to answer it with one arm. "Eddie, hey."

"Allen, we found the stolen Humvee in the alley at Fremont and Lawrence. Need you down here to do your thing."

"Great. I'll see you in a sec," Barry hung up and looked at Caitlin, resigned to what would come next. "Okay…let's do this."

As he laid down on the bed, Belén rushed over to his side and grabbed his hand. "It hurts less if someone holds your hand. Trust me, I've broken and sprained bones so many times."

"You?" Barry asked, clearly doubting her words.

"Mhm, from when I did my aerial dancing," she said casually, but because of his coma-state Barry didn't know about that part of her life.

"What!?"

Caitlin chose that moment to snap Barry's shoulder back into place. The metahuman screamed and unintentionally squeezed Belén's hand in the process. She ended up screaming too and nearly fell to her knees in response.

~ 0 ~

"You were an aerial dancer?" it was now Barry who was standing on the side of the bed while Belén was treated for a broken hand. Feeling incredibly guilty for what he'd done, Barry had gone out (or sped out) and brought her back lunch that she had missed...because of him as well.

"I really was," Belén laughed at such doubt she received from him.

"And a good one," Cisco spoke up on her behalf. "I've seen videos."

"Very graceful," Caitlin added while she wrapped a gauze around Belén's hand. "I don't think I could balance myself with silk ropes..."

"It's not that hard if you got the practice for it," Belén shrugged.

"You don't look like the sort," Barry said to the ombre-blonde. "But what happened, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Um..." Belén's smile faltered a little bit but it came right back before she responded fully, "My Mom said that it wasn't a real career. See, my plans weren't to become a writer at all - I wanted to dance. But my parents talked it over with me - over and over - until I just agreed to leave it for journalism. I found that I actually love to write, but..." she sheepishly looked down, letting the other three figure it out.

"You wouldn't mind going back," Caitlin said it for her.

"Yeah," Belén nodded her head, looking pretty excited just at the thought of returning to her dancing. "I had a team, actually, here in the city. I haven't talked to them in a while..."

"You should go and see them some time," Cisco suggested, like many of the other times they'd gotten into that conversation. "You know, and maybe show some us some moves."

Belén laughed, face flushing pink. "Right. I'd probably fall on my ass now that I haven't practiced."

"No you wouldn't," Cisco shook his head. "I'm serious. Go back and do some dancing, girl."

"Well, now I can kind of understand why you didn't have a bully," Barry said distractedly. "You were like a triple threat."

Belén shot him a look. "Seriously?"

"Good writer, cute rambler, and an aerial dancer?"

Caitlin exchanged a look with Cisco whiled Belén blushed. She finished up with the gauze and Belén jumped right off the bed the moment her cell phone went off.

"Shoot, it's Linda," she made a face and rushed off to go answer it.

Cisco managed to contain himself a minute before he mocked Barry. "A cute rambler…" Caitlin giggled as Barry shot a glare on Cisco. "That's not a triple threat, that was just what you thought of her."

"I...I didn't mean it like that," Barry soon what he was talking about and became flustered. He panicked at the idea that he may have overstepped with Belén. But if that'd been the case she would've said something right after, no?

"Sure you didn't," Cisco made the last statement before Belén returned.

"That was Linda. I have to get back to work! Barry? Can I get a lift back please?"

"Yeah, I gotta go anyways." Barry was all too pleased to be leaving the mocking room behind. "Eddie's waiting for me anyways."

"See you guys later," Belén waved goodbye to Cisco and Caitlin. In a flash, she and Barry were gone.

~ 0 ~

When Belén returned to work, the first thing she did was stop by Noah's desk to apologize profusely for her sudden departure. Noah just chuckled as he got up from his chair to go make copies.

"I was wondering what happened to you," he said thoughtfully.

Belén rushed after him, her hand reaching to keep her purse's strap over her shoulder. "I-I am so sorry! Th-there was, th-this...there was a thing…"

Noah pressed one paper down on the printer's scanner and closed the lid. "There was a thing?" He repeated the question and Belén meekly smiled. Yeah, so she would definitely need to become better at lying if she was intending on becoming a full fighting metahuman.

"A-an important thing," Belén added as if it would make her excuse much more plausible. "But you should know that I am, under no circumstances, a ditcher! I don't skip out on plans I make with people! Once I agree to something I stick by it! I honor what I say and I-"

Noah turned around to face the rambling woman and promptly laughed. Belén straightened, confused. "Do you normally ramble like this?"

"U-um…" Belén leaned on her hip, one hand nervously scratching her head. "I've...I've been told...I, uh, I tend to…"

Noah laughed again, quieter this time. "It's kinda cute," he turned back to the printer and took out the scanned paper.

"I've been told that too…" Belén mumbled, thinking back to Barry's words earlier. She felt her face warm up and was glad Noah still had his back to her.

"I get it, Belén, something unexpected came up," Noah stuck in another paper to be scanned. "It happens. No need to feel bad about it."

"But I do feel bad," Belén moved around the scanner to face Noah. "You have to let me make it up, yeah? We could do lunch tomorrow? Big Belly Burger?"

"Yeah but I feel bad. Please, let me make it up?"

Noah turned around with a quizzical look on his face. "How about we make it dinner instead? We can stay in here and continue working."

Belén thought about it for a minute before nodding her head. "Yeah, I can do that - I meant that I want to do that!" she quickly corrected herself, flushing from embarrassment. "Not that I was doing it because I had to in that I'm being forced to and-" Noah's laughter cut her off. "I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

"A bit, yeah," Noah removed the second scanner paper from the printer. "Save that for the reporting, though. You're quick!"

Belén nervously chuckled while he continued to scan more papers. If only my rambling could help me make good excuses, she thought.

~ 0 ~

"Barry! Check it out!" Cisco waved Barry to come over to the desk where he had several tabs opened on the computer. Barry had taken to him a sample of gravel he'd retrieved earlier from the crime scene of Tony's. "The gravel you pulled from Tony's ride? It contains 76.8% hematite. Consistent with the mines at Keystone Ironworks."

"Which closed down ten months ago. It's the perfect hideout," Barry realized with an air of relief. He needed to bring down Tony before someone truly got hurt.

Caitlin cleared her throat and walked over to them holding her tablet towards them. "Barry, do you mind telling me about this?" She read aloud Iris' new blog post to them. "I have info about someone you're looking for. He was here. You know where to find me.' Now who could she be talking to?"

Barry nervously looked away.

"Belén told us what she did, meeting Iris one time but she never said she was going back," Caitlin's motherly glare was enough to make anyone squirm. "Belén can't be doing this, Barry...she can't…"

"Alright, it wasn't Bells," Barry sighed. "I couldn't help it. I went to see Iris to try my hand at getting her to stop with her blog."

"Hm, and how'd that go?"

"Clearly not well seeing as she's sending out SOS posts now," Cisco mumbled.

"Okay! It wasn't my best idea!" Barry exclaimed. "But look, Iris clearly has something we can use and we can't pass that up."

"Clearly," Cisco nodded and received a sharp look from Caitlin.

"Who's side are you on!?"

"The side that wins obviously," Cisco rolled his eyes.

There was a buzzing noise coming from Barry's cellphone and when he looked at the ID he did admit he was a little afraid. "H-hello?" He winced.

"Why am I reading 'I have info about someone you're looking for. He was here. You know where to find me' from Iris' blog?" Belén asked in an edgy tone.

"See, what had happened was-"

"Barry, I'm a journalist, I can put two and two together. You clearly went to see Iris as we agreed but instead of making her stop, as we also agreed, you only made her put herself out there even more."

"I didn't mean to!"

"No of course you didn't. So, what's the plan? How are you going to fix this? I'm working late tonight and I can't be whisked away again so don't even try it.'

"It's quite simple, actually," Barry sucked in a breath, his eyes flickering from Caitlin to Cisco who remained at bay from the conversation, "I'll be visiting Iris."

~ 0 ~

As Barry planned, they all did. While Caitlin and Cisco monitored their conversation, Barry spoke to Iris who truly did have something useful (and important) to say. Tony had the audacity to visit her earlier in the day, simply to flirt but made a threatening gesture when he was close to being caught. Needless to say, Barry was furious. Tony was his bully and it was his responsibility to find him and put him away in the pipeline before anyone was hurt. Yet Tony easily slipped through the radar and visited Iris in broad daylight!

What kind of hero was he!?

Well, he was not going to be the hero that let enemies like this get so close to his family.

That was his brand new (and abrupt) idea.

"Barry, talk to us. What are you doing?" Caitlin nearly demanded from the metahuman as he sped out of Jitters without saying a word to either.

"Dude, don't run angry," Cisco said, but his words went unheard. "We don't know how to defeat him yet."

Barry ignored both until he came into the Keystone building where Tony was allegedly staying. As he walked further inside he took notice of all the empty beer bottles and upturned machines. He stopped when he came across a decent sized, dry hill of what looked like...steel? Yes, that was it. It had to be.

"This is definitely the place," Barry spoke to other two still anxiously waiting for an update.

"You're trespassing, freak!" Tony suddenly appeared behind Barry and wasted no time in punching him.

He swiftly grabbed Barry and threw him into one of the nearby shelves. As Barry fell to the ground, Tony went for the shelf and pulled it down. Everything on the shelf, including things nearby it, fell over Barry.

~ 0 ~

As promised, Belén and Noah stayed in at CC Pictures to finish their work. Dinner was a pick up from the local Big Belly Burger. They had made very good progress and were nearly halfway done with the work. Plus, Belén had a chance to see who Noah was. She decided only thirty minutes after beginning to work with him that she liked Noah. He was nice, and very understanding. He was well aware of her family issues and minded how he worded his questions or even just how to act correctly when they spoke about sibling matters. He was reserved, surprisingly, but not enough to not laugh once in a while. Belén could definitely see a good friendship between them two.

Belén placed down a clear, colorful photograph on her desk of Plasticine in the middle of a jewelry heist. She then put down another photograph of Plasticine robbing a plain, old liquor store. Unbeknownst to Noah, the photographs had been retrieved by good ole Felicity Smoak when Belén was staying over in Starling City. She thought the best way to let Plasticine know she was being hunted was for Belén to publish an article on her. She just felt a little bad for not telling Noah.

"This metahuman is a weird one," she stated with arms crossed and a pensive look. "I mean, one day she's stealing priceless jewelry and then the next day..."

Noah picked up the photograph with Plasticine robbing the liquor store. "She's stealing milk."

"She's stealing milk," Belén hummed in agreement. "What kind of metahuman steals milk?"

"Metahuman?" Noah raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes boring onto Belén. "What is that?"

"Um..." Belén mentally slapped herself for being so careless. This wasn't STAR Labs and Noah certainly was not one of her friends who knew about metahumans. "That's just...what, um...I've heard they're calling themselves."

Noah shrugged and moved closer to see the pictures again. Before she said anything else that could out her, she grabbed her soda can and took a big drink.

"I honestly think she's just doing some grocery shopping," Noah joked casually and put down the pictures side by side.

Belén swallowed her soda and laughed. "Really?"

"Hey, just because she's evil doesn't mean she doesn't like to eat," Noah raised his hands defensively.

"Well, the fact is that she does this a lot..."

"So she does grocery shopping!"

"I need you take this seriously!" Belén whacked him on the arm and took a minute to calm herself. She wanted to truly analyze the movements of this metahuman. So far, she had nothing concrete on Plasticine because the woman only came out on rare occasions. "Plasticine comes out and makes several heists, makes a clean getaway with usually no victims."

"She's good at what she does, then," Noah tilted his head thoughtfully.

"But most metahumans usually like to...play with their food...and Plasticine doesn't seem like that," Belén remembered what she learned from Plasticine's favorite jewelry shop the night she decided to visit in her vigilante form. Plasticine never made to harm anyone, and she only went in when Alizae - an employee of the shop - was there. "She's very calculating."

"And you are very Sherlock-like," Noah picked up a french fry from a bag and dropped it into his mouth.

Belén rolled her eyes, about to retort sarcastically when her cellphone went off. She moved to turn it off but saw it was Cisco. She made a gesture to Noah she would only be a moment. He nodded and went back to his desk for other papers.

"Cisco, what's up?" Belén went for her soda again and took a sip. She nearly choked on her drink when Cisco told her what Barry had done. Well, he added the word stupid in there and a bunch of other words Belén had never heard him say. "Y-yeah, I'll come and help! Don't worry, I'll -I'll be there!"

Like a spring she jumped into action, stuffing things in her bag and clearing her desk off. When Noah saw this he hurried over to see what was wrong.

Belén didn't give him opportunity to ask. She started apologizing instead. "I'm really sorry, Noah! There's something I gotta do! A thing! Yes!" She was midway towards the door and turned back to the confused man. "Another thing came up! Believe me, important, it's a very important thing! I'm…" her hand was desperately trying to find the door behind her, "...I'm really sorry, I'm not a ditcher! I'm really not! I promise!"

But as she left she felt her actions sharply contradicted her words.

~ 0 ~

"Who let him do this!? I can't believe he thought this was a good idea. I thought he was a scientist!"

"Bells, he's not te-"

Belén was shooting glaring daggers at Cisco. This was not the time to correct her. The two and Caitlin had driven up to the Keystone building hoping to find Barry. He wouldn't respond to them anymore but the sensors still indicated he was somewhere inside the building.

"Eugh, it stinks in here," Belén crinkled her nose the moment they entered the place. It reeked of beer and other smells she would rather not identify.

"Perfect hiding place, though," Cisco mumbled and went ahead.

"Barry? Barry, where are you?" Caitlin began calling out throughout the horrible mess that was the place.

Cisco saw a glimpse of Barry's elbow hidden underneath a shelf and dashed towards it. "Caitlin, Bells, over here!"

"Of course he got thrown under a shelf!" Belén exclaimed and hurried with Caitlin beside her.

"Barry?" Cisco tried pushing somethings out of the way. "Please, say something! Say something so we know you're okay."

"O-ow…" was all Barry could mutter at the moment.

"Get him out of there!" Caitlin ordered.

Belén moved over to Cisco's right side while he continued clearing a way out for Barry. With one hand, she created a vine tendril that shot out to the shelf. She raised another vine and together pushed the shelf up momentarily. "C-Cisco! It's heavy!" Belén groaned through her struggle to keep the vines working.

Cisco and Caitlin hurried to pull Barry out from underneath. The moment he was safely away from the shelf, Belén growled and let the shelf fall again. She, too, fell back on the ground from the force.

"Bells?" Caitlin quickly looked up from Barry.

"I'm fine, don't worry," Belén waved a hand as she got back to her feet. She hurried over to the three and took a look at Barry. He was in an awful state, so much that he couldn't properly move nor say his 'thanks'.

Thanks to his fast healing, by the time they got him back to STAR Labs the physical injuries had already faded to a point of only seeing a couple bruises here and there. Still, that didn't mean anyone's anger nor concern had lessened by then.

"What were you thinking!?" Dr. Wells was practically fuming at the metahuman lying on the bed. "What were you thinking? I told you that we would figure out a way to deal with him."

"I'll heal…" Barry was trying his best not to snap back at any of them, though it was becoming incredibly hard to do.

"That's not what he meant, Barry," Belén had her arms crossed and more or less the had the same angry face she had since they found him. "When I agreed to you visiting Iris I didn't think something stupid like this would happen! How could you do that!? What were you thinking, seriously!?"

"I-"

"No, you weren't thinking!" Belén went on, and no one dared to interrupt her. "Because if you had, you would've seen how stupid this idea was!"

"It was-"

"Who in the hell makes such an abrupt, thoughtless decision!?"

"Uh, how about you!?" Barry found himself snapping back in the moment. "Don't you remember you were the one that made a ridiculous decision to leave with a stranger for two complete months without so much of a word to any of us!?"

That shut Belén right up.

The flash of hurt in her eyes made everyone uncomfortable. She dropped her arms to her side, and pursed her lips. Overwhelmed, she left the room with haste.

Barry sighed and turned his head to the side, seeing all the disapproving looks from the others. "Too far, I know," he mumbled.

"She wasn't wrong," Dr. Wells continued on like nothing had happened. "This was an incredibly stupid idea. He could have killed you."

Exasperated, Barry got up from the bed. "I know, alright!? I know! In the past 36 hours I've had my ass handed to me twice by the guy that tortured me as a kid. I couldn't stop him then, and I can't stop him now! Even with my powers I'm still powerless against him."

Surprisingly, Wells didn't snap back. "Not necessarily. Cisco?"

Cisco nodded and went for the computers. After pulling up the right page, he began to explain. "Any material, if struck at a high enough velocity can be compromised. We ran an analysis on the metal in Tony's footprint. Based on its density and atomic structure, if you impact it at just the right angle, at just the right speed, you could do some serious damage."

"How fast would I have to go?" Barry, intrigued, calmed only slightly.

"Factoring in the metal's tensile strength, estimated dermal thickness, atmospheric pressure, air temp, you'd have to hit him at approximately... Mach 1.1."

Caitlin's mouth fell open. "You want Barry to hit something at 800 miles an hour?

"837, actually."

"I'm glad Bells isn't here to listen to this!" Caitlin blinked, putting her hands on her hips in that motherly way that let the others know she was completely against the idea. "That's faster than the speed of sound!"

"I know. He would create a sonic boom, which, as I've said before, would be awesome," Cisco couldn't help giggle of excitement.

"I've never gone that fast," Barry felt the need to remind everyone.

"Yet," Wells corrected.

"I can't believe we're actually entertaining this idea!" Caitlin shook her head, now wishing Belén hadn't left so she could back her up on this.

Cisco went back to the computer to give it another glance. "I mean, he'd need a straight shot from Miles away yeah, 5.3 Miles, theoretically. Do it right, you'll take him down."

"Do it wrong, you'll shatter every bone in your body, Barry," Caitlin also sharply reminded him.

Barry sucked in a breath and re-evaluated his limited options. This...would not be easy.

~ 0 ~

"Maritza, hey," Belén greeted her older sister at the front door the next day with a confused expression. It was fifteen minutes till eight in the morning - Belén was still in her pajamas while her sister was already professionally dressed.

The older brunette was holding her son's hand and was looking rather urgently. "Look, I know you probably are busy but...can you please look after Axel for the day?"

Belén's eyes flickered to her nephew, the latter probably already having been told he would be staying with her judging by the toothy grin he was giving her. "Mar, I...I have work," Belén glanced back into the empty house.

"Please Belén, I am desperate!" Maritza exclaimed. "I have to substitute the morning and do my class today and I can't afford the babysitter right now."

"Look, I would really like to help but I'm not exactly off to a good start at work right now. I actually have to majorly apologize again to my co-"

"Belén I will do anything you want but please just take him for the day?" Maritza put her hands together.

"Maritza…"

"Please?"

"What am I supposed to do with him all day?" Belén spoke in a hushed voice. Her nephew may be a four years old but he was incredibly smart and the last thing she wanted was for him to be upset that his 'auntie Belén' didn't want him.

"He's four," Maritza had taken the question as another form of 'yes' and so handed Axel to Belén, "Give him a coloring book and that'll be enough for hours."

"Maritza, I have work…" Belén said as a last resort but even she knew this was already a lost case.

"I know, and I am so sorry but I have to keep this job," Maritza planted a kiss on Axel's head. "Be good to your auntie Belén, okay?"

"Yes!" Axel clapped his hands and looked up to Belén. "Are we going to play games?"

Belén gave Maritza a brief look. "I don't think I have much of a choice."

"Sorry," Maritza gave her a quick hug then hurried away.

Belén backed Axel into the foyer so she could close the door. She yawned and turned around, looking down to Axel again. "Well, since I clearly won't be coming into work today, how's about we get more sleep? Nap time?"

Axel nodded his head and pretended to yawn, clapping his small hand over his mouth repeatedly. "I'm so tired..."

Belén chuckled and headed for the staircase. "You are such a good liar, Axel. But I swear to God if you draw on my face someone's not getting their chocolate milk later on."

~ 0 ~

Early morning turned into noon, and when Tony Woodward's case was turned over to the state Barry thought it suitable to find his friend whom he had offended the previous night. Now, his first idea on where to find her was her work…

Once more, he came across a stumped, and genuinely upset, Linda Parker.

"I love her, I really do," Linda was saying as she took a seat on the edge of her desk, "but she's not acting very professional like. She hasn't been back long enough to keep coming in late. Not to mention the fact she's about to miss her deadline this week because she keeps ditching a co-worker?"

Throughout this, Barry was guiltily listening to the woman go on and on...knowing that each time Belén had mysteriously disappeared had been because of him. "Listen, Linda, Bells is just going through some stuff," Barry began cautiously.

"I get it," Linda raised her hands, "Girl hasn't had it easy this year. But work is work. She can't keep doing this."

"She won't," Barry assured, promising himself that he would start being more mindful of the actions he took that would inevitably lead Belén into more trouble. "I'm...I'm gonna go talk to her…"

"Please do," Linda sighed and got off her desk. "I can't keep protecting her from the major bosses around here. Larkin has an attitude..."

Barry nodded. As soon as he could, he said goodbye to Linda and went to Belén's house. Knocking several times, he waited impatiently, and rather nervously. She probably had half a mind to slam the door on his face when she saw him standing there. Well, he wasn't the fastest man alive for nothing. He would have to keep the door open just enough to make his apology and hope for the best. Yes, that what he needed to do.

But, he was heavily surprised when Belén opened up and did nothing of the sort.

"Barry? What are you doing here?" she instead asked calmly, like their spat hadn't existed.

"You didn't come into work today and...I thought that was my fault…" Barry slowly explained, still wondering what she was planning on doing because so far her face had maintined completely at ease. Was this some sort of girl trick? Iris did it often with him when they were kids...and it was not fun!

"Don't flatter yourself, Barry," Belén chuckled a bit before gasping, "Oh my God I didn't mean to sound mean! S-sorry! I...I didn't...didn't really...sorry," it was her turn to be nervous. "Was that mean?"

"Bells, I...I thought you were mad at me, not the other way around."

"Oh, and you thought…?" Belén smiled and shook her head. "I was mad at you for a bit, then I got home and started thinking...and then I realized 'what the hell am I mad about? You were right'. Leaving Central City the way I did was completely rushed and stupid, no matter how logical I thought it was afterwards."

"I still had no right throwing that in your face," Barry sighed. "You were right about me - I shouldn't have gone out after Tony like that. It was stupid."

"But you did it for Iris, someone you consider your sister. If someone had done the same to my sister or brother, you bet your ass I would've gone after them no matter what."

"Still, I'm really sorry for what I said. It shouldn't have been said, period."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't stop my mouth and you were already pretty injured and frustrated so really this is still my fault and I should be apologizing so you shouldn't-"

"Bells breathe," Barry had to interrupt when he saw parts of her face going purple from lack of oxygen intake. Belén blushed and took in her needed air.

"Sorry," she apologized meekly.

There was a strange noise coming from the inside and while Barry didn't directly ask, he leaned slightly forwards. "Am I interrupting?"

"I'm literally just netflixing right now. Cisco's got me with the Walking Dead," Belén chuckled. "Well…" she motioned to be followed inside.

As Barry shut the door and followed her out of the foyer, he heard several distinct noises of a...gurgle? Was that a gurgle? Oh, there was a giggle too.

"Axel stop gurgling your milk and swallow it," Belén scolded when she walked into the living room.

"I like the sound," Axel called from the couch. He was very focused on a tablet he held but noticing his aunt had not come alone, he lowered the tablet for a moment. "Auntie Belén, Mommy says I can't talk to strangers..."

"Right," Belén pushed her hair behind her ears and motioned Barry to follow her again. "Barry, this is my nephew, Axel. He's the reason I didn't show up to work today."

"I told Mommy I didn't need a babysitter," Axel said in such a serious state that both Belén and Barry laughed.

"Axel, be nice and greet Barry," Belén motioned the boy to get up from the couch.

The small boy sighed but never got up. Instead, he let go of the tablet just to wave a hand at Barry then reach for the cup of milk he had on the coffee table. "Auntie Belén I'm watching Toy Story. Sh!" he then grabbed the small Woody doll beside him.

Belén made a face then turned to Barry. "As you can see, I'm very busy today."

Barry chuckled. "Right. Um, and he's...he's Maritza's son, right?" he vaguely recalled meeting Maritza and the small boy at Jitters.

"Yeah, my only nephew in the city," Belén shrugged. "And he's definitely worth the shouts Larkin will give me later."

"Big boss?"

"Big boss."

"Yeah, Belén, about your job...I'm sorry I've been causing problems there too-"

"Barry, please don't even worry about that," Belén waved a hand. "Just promise me next time you won't go into a fight where they can kill you without a proper plan first."

"I can do that," Barry nodded his head.

"Thank you, on behalf of all of us at STAR Labs," Belén rolled her eyes. "You're free to go without any guilt."

"U-uh, actually, I, um...you know," Barry decided to just start over again, "I've yet to catch up on zombies too…"

Belén followed his gesture to the television and blinked rapidly. "Oh...do you want to stay and watch with me?" she glanced back at him. "Of course, if you don't mind Axel. He's very shy when it comes to new people. Although he didn't have that problem with Iris - he frikin loves her."

Axel looked up with a big smile on his face. "Iris makes good chocolate milk."

"I taught her how to do that..." Barry said, leaning over the back of the couch.

Axel shifted so that he faced Barry. "Did you really?"

"Oh yeah, Iris and I grew up together so we taught each other a lot of things. She's like my sister, you know."

"Are you annoying?" the boy suddenly asked.

"Axel!" Belén scolded immediately while Barry laughed.

Axel simply looked between the two adults without realizing what he did. "My Daddy used to say that his big brother was annoying. Mommy said that uncle Rayan was annoying too. That's why I don't want to be a brother - I don't want to be annoying either." And without waiting to be scolded, Axel re-positioned himself on the couch and grabbed the tablet still playing his Toy Story movie.

"Barry, I'm sorry about that," Belén cleared her throat, obviously feeling bad for that bit.

"He's funny, I like him," Barry finished his laughter and moved around the couch. "And to answer the question, Iris was the annoying one, not me!"

"Now I'm telling," Belén playfully warned him as she went to sit down as well.

~ 0 ~

"This is definitely gross, I don't want to keep going," Belén cringed over and over as she saw blood spilling from a character's limb. She was glad that Axel had fallen asleep earlier. Despite being four years old, Axel seemed to like scary movies and whatnot. Maritza always said he got it from his father.

"Then why you'd watch it in the first place?" asked Barry who seemed to be studying the television rather than being entertained.

"For Cisco!"

"And what did we learn today?"

Belén groaned and threw her head back against the couch. "I can't watch..."

"You can definitely tell it's fake, though. The blood's not even the right color! Heck, barely anything on the show seems real!"

"It's a show-" Belén tried to remind but Barry was too excited to stop there.

"Look-" Barry shifted on his seat, eyes scanning the current scene on the television screen, "-it's a known fact that, technically, these zombies would have decomposed within like...a year, maybe a year and a half. Zombies in hot and humid places would have had their skin practically melting in weeks! They would literally be skeletons and maybe even just heads on the grounds. Plus, if zombies can turn you with a bite or a scratch then wouldn't that mean that nearly everyone would have been turned when they got blood on them? I'm talking about, you know, when someone stabs a zombie over and over and the blood splatters on their faces. One drop of blood in your system and you're..." he trailed off when he saw Belén staring at him with the widest of smiles. He was now aware of the mega rambling he'd done and suddenly felt his face warm up with embarrassment.

"Do you always get so analytical when you're watching TV shows?" Belén tried her best not to laugh.

"I-I tend...to do that...a lot...sorry," Barry shook his head. "It's kind of why Iris doesn't like watching television with me."

"I can see that. I mean, we watch television we mostly just...watch," Belén chuckled. "But when you watch television, you go on some other level...like a...like a 'Barry-level' that only you can reach."

Barry tilted his head at her, seeming completely offended. "What? I have a level now?"

"I think you always had a level," Belén nodded. "I should talk to Iris about it, maybe she already gave it a name."

"I have a level?"

"Yes."

"No I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"Belén!"

"Barry!"

There passed a long minute in which nothing was said and only stares were exchanged. Barry was just not amused and Belén was trying her best to suppress her smile that was already leaving noticeable traces on her lips.

"So, I have a level?" Barry finally began again, and when Belén nodded he quickly asked, "Why do I have a level?"

"Because," Belén let loose just a blip of her real laughter, "you look at the details no one else would. Take me for example," she gestured to herself. "When I watch a show, I don't go looking to see if the blood is the right color. I just go 'oh look, they're bleeding' and then move on."

"But how can you do that!?" Barry exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

"Because I'm just watching TV, Barry!" Belén said matter-of-factly, and giggled. Barry exhaled in resignation and shook his head. "Maybe it's just the fact you're a forensic," she added after feeling a little guilty, "You're trained to analyze things. It's just your custom."

"It's an annoying custom, or so I've been told," Barry muttered.

"No it's not, it's...interesting," Belén shrugged, "And kind of funny, not gonna lie. You get so into it - and excited too! You stay like that, alright? It's just part of you being an adorable nerd."

The last sentence had Barry in a mixture of flush and sadness. Belén saw that quick and sobered from her playfulness.

"I said something wrong didn't I? I...I didn't mean to-"

"It's not your fault," Barry said grimly, "Those words just sounded a lot like something Iris would say."

"Probably where I got them, to be honest," Belén mumbled and then spoke louder for him. "Why don't you talk to her? We can continue watching this some other day. It's obvious you miss her and this whole petty fight is just hurting both of you."

"I can't Bells…"

"Yes, you can," Belén said sharply. "Last time I checked, your sibling wasn't kidnapped or anything. She's probably at home right now...which is where you need to be." With that, she got up from the couch. "I have to bring Axel upstairs. When I come back, I would hope to see a little note from you-" she made a gesture of a squared note in the air that did, eventually, make Barry lighten up with a smile, "-saying you listened to my advice and went to see Iris."

She collected Axel from the other couch and headed for the stairs where. It would've made her feel good to know that Barry was planning on following her advice if it hadn't been for the phone call that he answered just as he had stood up from the couch to leave.

"Barry?" Belén had made a scowling face at him when she returned, though in his defense he had his back to her which didn't let him see it. "What are you still doing here? I know I was being a little sarcastic but I did mean for you to go to Iris and-"

"He took her," Barry turned around, angry yet completely terrified. "Tony took her right out of the house!"

"Wh-what?" Belén froze in her tracks. "Well...well...we gotta...we gotta do something! We, um, Star Labs, yeah! They can help us right?"

He nodded and made way for the doors. "I called Caitlin and Cisco, told them about it and they're working on it. This time he has to go down, I have to take him down."

"Not with that super punch you're not," Belén was coming right behind him. "Caitlin said you would break every bone in your body!"

"If I don't have another way then I'll have to take it!"

"I need to be with you so you don't have to do that awful option!"

"Bells!" They were now at the doorway, and Barry had turned around to remind her of her situation. "You have Axel upstairs, remember?"

Belén glanced back at the staircase with a thoughtful stare. "Well, he's only four. It's not like Maritza's gonna believe him if he says anything about you. Plus, he loves Cisco, so he'll be fine."

"Bells…"

"If you don't speed us there in the next minute I'll take back the 'adorable nerd' compliment I gave you."

"That was supposed to be a compliment?"

"Barry!"

"Fine!"

~ 0 ~

It only took another hour or so to get a clue of Iris' whereabouts. It appeared Tony had taken her back to their old school and somehow, mysteriously, there had been a report of a fire alarm going off in that building. The group assumed it had been a sign from Iris' part trying to signal her location. Smart girl because it worked.

"Okay, but how do you intend on taking him on?" Belén asked, for what the others counted as the tenth time.

"Fighting, clearly," Barry didn't want to be rude to her but at the moment his patience was low because Iris was off somewhere with an incredibly dangerous metahuman.

"That's not a plan!"

"She's not wrong," then came Belén's backup, Caitlin. The bioengineer sat at the desk concerningly preparing the computer to monitor Barry's future movements with the suit. "The idea of this sonic...punch, is completely a 'what if'."

"Well then hopefully we won't have to use it," Barry said his last sentence before speeding out of the building.

Belén looked at the remaining others with a straight face. "He's gonna have to use it, won't he?"

"The chances are very high," even Dr. Wells had to admit.

"Then someone should be there to make sure he has a better chance," Belén walked towards the desk.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Cisco exclaimed as Belén placed down her nephew on the chair between Cisco and Caitlin.

"Look after him, please?"

"I don't need a babysitter!" Axel grumbled but was not acknowledged.

"Bells, this isn't a good idea," Cisco earnestly said. "You haven't seen this guy, alright? You haven't even tested your own powers completely-"

"I've tested them enough," Belén made sure to look at everyone whilst saying that. "I've trained with the Arrow, with the Canary, and I think I've learned enough to go out there. You're going to have to excuse me but you've only seen a glimpse of what I've learned to do." And Belén thought that was an understatement. There was a side even she hadn't really seen and wasn't very interested to.

"He's dangerous," Caitlin reminded meekly, though knew this was a lost case.

"I know, and strong. Look, I'm not going to go in to punch him. You're right, at one point, Barry will have to do that stupid sonic thing and when he does, I'd like to make sure this Tony is already weakened."

"What do you mean by that?" Caitlin furrowed her eyebrows.

"Well, Tony might be metal but he doesn't stop having human lungs," Belén smirked.

"I don't have your suit ready," Cisco said as a last resort to get her to stay back, but he shoould've known better. Belén was a journalist - they persisted until the end.

"I've still got my original outfit," she winked and ran off.

"Where is auntie Belén going?" Axel was left asking but none of the adults could come up with a good answer for a four year old.

~ 0 ~

Iris was completely terrified as she watched from her spot on the ground as the Streak (tentative name, she noted) fought against her deranged kidnapper. She was frozen on her spot, thinking if she moved she would perhaps get in the way. But then just like that, in the middle of the fight, the Streak sped out.

Smugly, Tony glanced back at Iris. "There goes your hero."

Iris was well overconfused, but she said nothing. Then, out of nowhere, several pink Azaleas dropped and formed a neat circle around Tony.

"What the…" Tony looked down at the flowers and had a mini-laugh, "...what's this?"

"Over here," came the order of a modulated voice. Iris perked up when she recognized the voice.

He looked ahead and saw a woman in a green leather jacket that faded into pink, and matching pants. "Buddy of the coward I assume? Well, your little flowers aren't gonna do much for you sweetheart."

Belén keenly listened to the earpiece for a status on her time before speaking again. "Do you know what Azaleas can mean sometimes? Death."

"What? And you're gonna kill me with them?" Tony was close to laughing again.

Belén felt something in the pit of her stomach while the man laughed. She flexed her hands, not needing to even look at them to know they were sporting green blotches. She fought against it, pushing it away and focusing on the little time she had left until Barry would return. "I'm not a murderer, I'm a partner." She extended a hand towards Tony and turned her palm over. A bright pink Azalea formed at the center of her hand and released what looked to be like pollen into the air. "Azaleas, while beautiful, are quite poisonous." Tony began to cough as he felt something prick at his throat. "It's not enough to kill you, don't worry. I've learned the correct amount to weaken someone." The flowers around Tony were now opening up and releasing the same pollen into the air around him. Belén calmly walked around Tony who was coughing violently and stumbling. She stopped by Iris and helped her up. "We need to move!"

"What-" Iris barely had time to say when Belén yanked her to the side.

It had been a well calculated moment because a mere two seconds later Barry reappeared, faster than ever, and in a great leap his hand collided with Tony's face...creating the perfect sonic punch.

Barry fell back against the lockers and Tony staggered back, completely disoriented. Belén mumbled a 'stay here' to Iris and hurried up to where Tony had landed to deliver a final punch that would knock Tony out for real. She then made the Azalea pollen from the air disappear before Iris got a whiff of it.

"Nice one," Barry remarked after a moment, still feeling rather weak. "But what are you doing here?"

"Helping your ass, what else?" Belén couldn't help chuckle then glanced back to Iris who was slowly coming forwards, looking shaken up. "You'll be fine now, we promise."

Iris nodded, her fear slowly fading and replacing with awe as she looked at the two heros. As bad as it may have sounded to anyone else, this was the closest she'd ever gotten to either of them.

~ 0 ~

When Tony awoke he found himself in the small containment pod in the pipeline that would become his new home. "Hey! What is this? Where the hell am I?"

"Somewhere you'll never hurt anyone ever again."

Tony got up and pounded on the glass door that turned out not to be as fragile as he thought after putting up with several of his steel punches. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Barry stepped out from the shadowy archway and allowed Tony to see who he was in reality. "You know who I am."

"Allen?" Tony went in a momentary stupor.

"The thing that happened to you, Tony, it happened to me too, but it didn't just give us abilities. It made us more of who we are. You got strong. I got fast. Fast enough to beat you. You used your gift to hurt people. Not anymore."

"Allen. Allen. Allen, don't walk away from me, Allen!"

Barry stepped back and let Tony be promptly shut up in the pipeline. Once the door was fully shut, he whirled around and did some sort of victory dance that everyone else in the room decided to ignore for the best.

"Dude, that had to feel great," Cisco laughed alongside him.

"You have no idea," Barry nodded his head.

"Almost as good as proving us wrong about the supersonic punch?" Caitlin asked with crossed arms.

"Actually, that part hurt. Like, a lot," Barry looked at his fist that was already healed...lucky him.

"I hate that you heal faster than me," Belén glumly looked at her gauzed up hand.

"Nobody said you had to punch him afterwards," Barry couldn't help laugh at her face.

"Excuse me for coming to help you!"

Barry sobered and gave her a light smile. "Well thanks."

"Okay," Cisco clapped his hands together as they headed out, "I need to know which childhood bully we are gonna take down next? Mine or Caitlin's?"

"Seriously, Cisco?" Belén gave him a sharp look.

"What? Oh, right, I forgot little miss adorable didn't have any bullies," Cisco made a faceand earned a whack on the arm.

"I told you people just liked me! It's not my fault!"

"Sure," and she was surprised that it came out of all three of her friends' mouths.

"You're all just…" Belén scrunched her nose as she thought of something to say, "...big nerds! You're just nerds and you're jealous because I never had someone pick on me." She left them very amused as she went ahead to go collect her nephew. It was getting late and she knew it was only time before Maritza would arrive at the house.

"Dr. Wells I am so sorry," she quickly apologized when she walked into the cortex room, "It took longer than expected to put Tony away."

"Don't worry, I assumed Barry had to have a couple minutes to gloat to him," Wells shot the said man a look as the others came in.

"I did not gloat," Barry said proudly.

"No, he just danced," Belén cleared her throat and suppressed a laugh. She moved to the chair where Axel had been left at, the boy babbling to himself while he scribbled over a worn out journal. "What are you doing there, Axel?"

"Drawing," he said distractedly, not even glancing at her.

"He's very interested in the technology around," Wells gestured to the computers and screens on the wall.

"Oh, he gets that from his uncle Rayan. He used to let Axel use one of those drawing programs on a tablet." At that moment, her phone went off and she didn't need to answer to know who was the caller - she had seen the time. "Maritza's at home and I need to get there fast…" she eyed the speedy metahuman, "...up for one last trip?"

"Always," Barry nodded and moved forwards.

"Uh, Bells, I know this is probably ridiculous to ask but don't you think Axel might mention something about all this-" Cisco gestured to the room as well as Barry and herself, "-to Maritza?"

"Don't worry Cisco," Belén had picked up her nephew into her arms, "Maritza would never believe it."

"I'm not telling," Axel hopped off chair and snagged his paper with his newest drawing. "I can keep secrets too." He quickly looked at Barry with big eyes. "I won't tell, I promise!"

"We believe you," Barry reassured him but silently concluded that Belén was right. Even if Axel accidentally let it slip that he was the Streak, Maritza would never buy it.

"Hey Axel," Cisco came by the boy wearing a suspicious smirk Belén was already not liking, "Sonic?"

"Boom!" Axel threw his hands into the air and giggled, much to the dismay of everyone else in the room.

"I cannot believe you taught my nephew this," Belén playfully scolded Cisco for that but the man was busy high-fiving with Axel to care. "Barry, get us out of here!"

Barry thought it would be a good idea since she looked close to hurting Cisco. As they approached Belén's house, they could see Maritza's car already in the driveway.

"I'm gonna need a good excuse," Belén said as they walked down the sidewalk.

"She won't buy the one where you say you were 'out with friends'?" Barry made a face at her.

She turned to him with an amused smile. "Maritza is very delicate when it comes to her son - especially since she lost her husband. But don't worry, your name nor anyone at STAR Labs will not come up."

"Why don't I go in with you and we make up some excuse together?"

"That's very sweet of you but I would rather you went to go find Iris. You have spent all day with me and frankly it makes me feel guilty."

"Guilty?"

"Iris is your best friend, your sister, your family, I don't think it's right that you ignore her and do it by spending your entire day with me. Iris is also my friend, a really close friend whom I completely love. I feel like I'm betraying her by not helping this icky fight between you both."

"Okay," Barry gave in rather easily after hearing her logic. Truth be told he didn't feel well with himself either. More than anything he wanted to fix things with Iris and get back to normal. Ignoring her probably wasn't helping.

"Thank you for today," Belén said softly. "I can't wait to see everything back to normal tomorrow."

"As much as it can with all these metahumans?"

"Yes," Belén laughed, "As much as it can be with all these metahumans."

"What's a 'metahuman'?" Axel looked up at them both, curiously.

"We're going to talk before we go back to your Mom, okay...?" Belén said back, nervously smiling at Barry while motioning him to get going.

"Good luck," Barry told her before leaving.

"Good luck to you," Belén felt the need to say back. When he was gone, Belén took Axel by the hand and slowly walked for the house so that she could come up with a good story on what to tell Maritza.

#noblecrescentedit #barry allen x oc #oc: Belen Palayta #oc: Belén Palayta #barry allen fic #barry allen imagines #the flash #Barry Allen #Caitlin Snow #Cisco Ramon #Iris West

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darkhymns-fic · 5 years

Text

Where the tall trees bend, I asked something of you

Colette wanted to give something to Lloyd for retrieving her lost weapon, despite him never saying it was necessary. But maybe what she asked was still much too selfish.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel Rating: G Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: A fanfic for Fictober 2019, prompt #5: "I might just kiss you." (Very late!! Not a surprise!)

---

The sun was setting, lighting fire to the clouds in a burst of red. Maybe the sight of it was what had gotten Colette to make her mistake. It had only been a few weeks since she had started using the chakrams, their weight deceptively heavy and their sides nearly sharp enough to bite into her palms.

Lloyd was staring up at a cliff, scratching his head. "How… did you get your chakram up that far?"

The cliffs that bordered Iselia were not easy things to traverse - so much of the wilderness outside was unkempt, unruly, and so out of the order of neat and proper things that the Church taught her. It was a lot like Lloyd himself, and maybe that was why she was always drawn past the gates to sneak out into the forests with him.

Sometimes they came out here to play, but today was an attempt at training. The result was the ring of metal embedded within a brush that sprouted from the cliff, reflecting back the waning sunlight.

"Uh… I guess I messed up, huh?" She laughed, both hands now clasped around the single chakram she still held. She supposed she could start using just one, but it had not been easy for her father to help get her the weapons.. and it was nice matching double with Lloyd.

Right now, Lloyd had his hands on both hilts of his swords, craning his neck up high to see what he could do. After a moment, he sighed. "Colette, you really have one heck of a throwing arm."

"Hm, it must be all the practice from playing catch with Noishe!"

"No way! That's…. Actually that does make sense…"

Colette felt strangely a bit proud at that, but that didn't help with their situation by much. It was still quite a ways high up. They'd need wings to get up there!

"I guess I'll just have to go get it.." Lloyd said, already stretching out his arms to prepare for the climb.

"Oh! No, no, you don't need to, Lloyd. It was my fault. I should be the one to get it." Even though her legs trembled at the height.

"We need to though! Or you'll get in trouble for hanging out with me again." She saw something cross his face, something she wasn’t used to seeing. "It was my fault anyway. I was making you show me how to use those."

She wanted to say she was so happy to show him her recent training, but he was already turning away, ready to start the climb.

"Is there anything I can do to make up for it?"

Lloyd turned back to her, his right foot already planted on a jutting rock. “Huh? Like what?” At that, she saw the curiosity in his eyes. She knew he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity that he might get a gift. That excitement fueled up her own, made her grin wide.

“If I do, it’ll help you climb faster up that cliff I bet.”

“Hey, so you do want me to go and get it!”

She giggled, still holding onto her sole chakram. “I just want to help you!”

“Well, fine then! What you got for me?” Now back to facing her, hands on his hips, he waited for what she would give him. But first, Colette had to think of something!

"How about...I'll bake you some cookies!" She had always wanted to make cookies regularly like Genis did.

Lloyd raised his eyebrow. "No offense, Colette… but you don’t exactly make the best cookies. I mean, not nearly as bad as the Professor...but you somehow also set the cookies on fire the last time."

Colette ducked her head in embarrassment. "Oh yeah, hehe…. I was hoping you wouldn't remember that."

“It’s kind of hard to forget something like that when it was at my house!”

Dirk had been so forgiving then, even trying out the burnt cookies she had made despite the fact she had nearly set fire to their wooden home. But since there was a metalsmithing forge in the same place, maybe fire accidents like that were common?

“I can help you study when we get back? For last night’s homework!”

Lloyd looked less excited at that. “Man, do we gotta study? Can’t you just give me the answers or something?”

“Ah, but I don’t know the answers either…” It was a lot harder to come up with fun things than she had thought. What would be fun exactly…?

“I can take over grooming Noishe’s fur for you! And help give him baths! And feed him… and take him out for walks and play catch!”

“Colette, this is sounding like it’s more for you than for me! And I already let you help me with all those things anyway!”

“Oh right… But Noishe is so cute, I want to!”

“Heh, I know, I know…”

Lloyd was smiling, but it wasn’t the excitement that she was looking for. She thought hard on it again. She kept thinking on things that she thought was fun, but not for him specifically. But couldn’t it be for both still?

The sun was setting, something that Lloyd noticed. “Hey, if we want to get back to Iselia soon, I’ll need to go get it quick… You can make it up to me some other time!

“Ah, hold on, I just… um…” It was so hard to think of something, but she caught the way the sun shone on his hair, the wind pulling at his collar strips, making her want to reach out and grab it. She nearly wanted to do so now, remembering how she had nearly fallen earlier, Lloyd’s hands grasping her around the waist to prevent her stumble. His eyes had latched onto the chakram that flew from her palm to arc into the air, his hands still holding tight. She had been sad once he finally let go.

"Well, I, um…" Something took over her voice suddenly. "I-I might just kiss you then!"

Lloyd seemed to stumble despite standing still only a moment ago.

"...Say that again?"

Colette stood still, though her mind was going into chaos. Everything felt so different to the soft sky above.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“...Huh? You just did!”

“Ah! You mean just now…”

“Yeah…?”

She could barely look at him; the sun casting brilliant shades over his skin. She had always wanted to be close to him. But there was the fear that he’d know much more than she was prepared to give. He always seemed to. And then she had just blurted it out anyway.

“I… might just kiss you,” she said again, looking to the side.

It felt so quiet, underneath the quickly darkening sky.

She didn’t hear Lloyd say anything, and that worried her. Taking a deep breath, she raised her head, expecting to find a disappointed-looking Lloyd. Instead, he… wasn’t there? Had she scared him so much that he had run off?

She looked at the cliff, up a few feet, and already found him climbing up its face than she thought was possible in so short a time.

"L-Lloyd!" she cried out in surprise.

"Hold on, hold on I'm getting it!!" He was waving back to her, his grin ecstatic. He had nearly lost his grip on one handhold, quickly catching onto another with his previously waving hand. “J-just a sec! Almost there!”

“Wait! That’s too fast!” She rushed up to the cliff, thinking of going after him. But her stockings caught onto bushes that lined the ground, her feet nearly made her slip at a sudden dip in the ground. She’d just cause more trouble for Lloyd if she went up too, it was just-

She wanted to always be with him.

Something in his movements was so strong and quick, that soon he was even jumping across little outcroppings of rock that gave him enough room to plant his feet. Her heart shuddered as he nearly slipped off one, only to catch himself at the last moment, to look back down at her on the ground and give another grin. So bright and so excited, like when he would rush to her when she would walk down the steps from the Church, or helped her ride Noishe to then run with them both down the shoreline of the nearby river. Those are the times she could forget everything else, everything she was meant to do.

Lloyd finally reached her chakram, already grabbing it in his right hand, where the white cloth around his palm stood so starkly against the red dye of his glove. “Got it!” He turned towards her again, the wind blowing strongly against his hair, his ribbons waving erratically in the air like fluttering wings. “See, Colette? I got it!!”

“Y-yeah!” She was calling back, also excited, but still so very nervous for him. “Just… be careful!”

“What? Sorry, I can’t hear you!” Lloyd was shouting loudly, but the wind kept trying to take his voice away. No way her quiet voice would reach up to him that far. “Hold on, I’m coming back down!”

And with that, Lloyd jumped.

There was so much Lloyd could do - as wild as the forests outside her stable village, holding something unknown and exciting. To others, it could be frightening, as many others saw of the boy living outside of what they’ve known. Raised by a dwarf, carrying weapons in his hands to fight off monsters on his daily trek, and his voice so loud it could reach across the village when he called out her name.

Colette finally let go of her remaining chakram, rushing up to where Lloyd was falling. He looked ready to land, as if he had done this so much before, but she couldn’t let go of her worries, of her need to be with him. Arms extended, she attempted to catch him… which just made him land on top of her instead.

The ground was soft beneath her, and she could see the backdrop of the sky against the fringe of Lloyd’s hair.

“Gah! Colette…” Lloyd whined. She had fallen onto her back, Lloyd’s hands pressed into the grass on both sides of her head, trying not to put his full weight on her. The chakram he had held had rolled off to the side, letting go of it at the last second.

“Sorry, sorry,” Colette was repeating, her hands clinging to the material of his jacket. She smiled up at him. “But… you scared me, you know.”

Lloyd looked down at her, his hair sticking out all over the place from the force of his descent. “Ah, I was going to be okay… I do that all the time.”

“Mm, but you never told me that!”

“I didn’t?” He blinked, his confusion so endearing she just wanted to stare at him forever. “Oh… I guess I forgot to. Sorry, Colette...but I did get your chakram!”

“Hehe, yeah! Good job.” She didn’t move from her position, and neither did he. The sun, close to the edge of the sky, shone against his hair, making her blink.

Lloyd noticed the quiet, smiling a little nervously. “Ha… um, about before, you don’t… have to or anything.” She felt her body shift, getting ready to leave. “I can just take you back home.”

What her hands held wasn’t exactly his jacket she realized, but the white strips that extended from his collar. She held them in both hands, keeping him from getting up.

“Uh…” Lloyd said, noticing her stopping him. He didn’t seem to mind, she thought. Or was that just wishful thinking?

“But I wanted to give it you though.”

She would always keep his expression then close to her heart - once she left on her own journey, once she finally said her goodbyes, this was one selfish thing she would allow herself to keep. His red cheeks, the lock of hair that fell over his forehead, the surprise slowly morphing to something much more pleased.

“It seemed like you were really happy about it too,” she said, gauging to make sure. Still, she held the fabric, twirling it between her fingers.

“Yeah… I’m still really happy about it,” he said with that addictive smile.

“Well… then… um, let me,” she said, before pulling him down just a fraction so she could kiss him, closing her eyes as she did so. She still felt the warmth of the sun; on her face, against her lips, how he softly fell against her, the hint of her name on his breath.

Perhaps she was allowed one more selfish thing she could keep. Lloyd taught her that two of something was always better anyway.

#fictober19 #tales of symphonia #colloyd #colette brunel #lloyd irving #fanfiction #one shot #i should just tag these 'tales of colloyd' at this point #i have a one track mind

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muwi-translates · 5 years

Text

CN IkeSen - Yukimura: Fireworks

More Chinese version stuff that makes me so #blessed on the inside. This is a new version of the festival scene from Yukimura’s EN/JP route, set under different circumstances and frankly... kinda good.

**Please don’t move this translation or claim it as your own.**

(Bidding farewell to the teashop owner, I made my way to the shrine. Putting my palms together, I silently prayed.)

(Kami-sama, I pray that Yukimura’s dream will come true early. I wish for the war to end early, and wish that Yukimura can return to his homeland. And I also wish... that I can return to my home too.)

(When I opened my eyes, the tears that had been building up for a long time began to flow uncontrollably. I quickly wiped away my tears, formally excuse myself from the god, and began walking towards the exit of the shrine.)

(Occasionally I could hear the cheers and laughter of the people, and loving whispers of couples. In the end... I really don’t belong here.)

Yuki: Oi, you idiot!

(I heard a familar voice, and in the next moment, my wrist was grabbed.)

Yuki: Why didn’t you wait for me?

MC: Oh...

Yuki: You... why are you crying?

(Not knowing if it was relief after seeing Yukimura again, or the work of what I had been hiding in my heart - after seeing his face, the tears that I had already gotten rid of once again poured out.)

Yuki: W- What’s wrong?

(I wanted to say something, but when I opened my mouth, there was only a small sob. Yukimura worriedly scratched his head, and began to pull me somewhere.)

(I didn’t say a word as I followed him, and let him take me around the shrine, to a hill behind it. When there was nobody around us anymore, he stopped to look at me to speak with a serious tone.)

Yuki: Hit me.

MC: ... Huh?

Yuki: Aren’t you angry? You can hit me to let out steam.

(Even though I was angry, and it was because of Yukimura, but letting me hit him is...)

Yuki: Hurry up, just do it. Besides, I’m tough, so it wouldn’t even hurt.

(Underestimating me much. I looked him in the eye, and firmly punched him on the shoulder.)

Yuki: Ah-

MC: D- Didn’t you say it wouldn’t hurt?

Yuki: If I don’t make a noise who knows how harder you’ll hit.

(Watching Yukimura exaggerate the pain, I started chuckling.)

Yuki: Going from crying to laughing, what a strange woman.

MC: Not.

Yuki: So, you’ve cooled down now?

MC: Mm...

(I really am an idiot. Now that I think about it. Not only did I not help him when he was clearly troubled, but I was also angry at him... Me being like this is a bit disappointing...)

MC: I’m sorry.

Yuki: Huh? What are you apologising for?

MC: I- I didn’t mean to get angry at you, I just...

(Didn’t know how to control the worries in my heart...)

MC: That’s right, you haven’t gone to the shrine to pray, have you? How about we-

(I wanted to change the topic, but Yukimura pulled me back.)

Yuki: That isn’t important.

MC: How isn’t it important? It wasn’t easy getting here, so why not pray for your wish?

Yuki: But I don’t need to, didn’t you say you were going to pray in my stead?

(He was right. I did say I’ll always pray for his wish to come true.)

Yuki: My wishes are crystal clear to you. As long as you pray for me, the gods will definitely hear it.

MC: Oh...

(Suddenly, Yukimura pulled me again.)

Yuki: Come look-

(Following Yukimura’s line of sight, I looked up and was amazed to discover that among the clusters of stars in the horizon, there were shooting stars streaking across the sky.)

MC: Shooting stars!

(I was seeing so many of them before my very eyes. Even in the future, there weren’t that many. I raised my head to marvel at the scenery, when a voice appeared in my thoughts.)

Teashop Owner: This shrine has a legend, you know. If a pair of lovers pray at the shrine together, if they manage to see shooting stars, then they’ll be together for eternity.

(The scenery did not last long. After about a dozen shooting stars crossed the sky, the night sky settled once more.)

(If you could see shooting stars... they’ll be together for eternity... But, Yukimura and I...)

Yuki: Did you make a wish?

MC: Hm?

Yuki: Aren’t you supposed to make a wish when you see shooting stars?

MC: Where did that come from?

Yuki: Sasuke said so.

(What Sasuke said... isn’t that from the future?)

MC: I already wished for it in the shrine.

Yuki: Oh.

MC: ... But the fireworks display is going to start soon.

Yuki: Right, let’s go to a higher place so we can see them clearly.

(We climbed further up until we reached high ground where we could see the wide horizon. At that moment, the fireworks began, and from our line of sight everything glittered and gleamed.)

MC: So pretty...

(The fireworks before us pushed the atmosphere of the festival to its climax. Looking from afar at the people down the hill, the crowd moved like a rushing wave. With this scenery, it was as if everything returned to peace and prosperity, with no worries, only immersing within happiness. Hand in hand we stood high, quietly watching the beautiful scene in front of our eyes.)

MC: It really is beautiful.

Yuki: Mm...

MC: Does Yukimura think so as well?

(Not hearing a reply, I turned to look at Yukimura, who was standing by my side. Not knowing that when I did so, I would unexpectedly meet eyes that sparkled like starlight.)

MC: Yukimura?

Yuki: ... Mm.

(While he spoke, he raised his hand, and gently caressed my hair. As Yukimura’s fingers moved, my heartbeat slowly sped up as I unconsciously held my breath.)

(Why do you have to look at me like that...)

(However, I couldn’t read minds, and neither did he speak. We simply gazed at each other under the millions of fireworks.)

(After a long time, Yukimura spoke in a gentle mumble.)

Yuki: Just then, you looked really lonely.

(Lonely?)

MC: As if. You’re with me, why would I be lonely?

Yuki: You were, like... everything will eventually end, and there won’t be a way to return.

MC: I...

(This thick-skinned person, why is he suddenly so sensitive now?)

Yuki: Normally you have all your feelings written on your face, but... MC, just then, I couldn’t see what you were thinking.

(It’s not that you can’t see, it’s that you can’t guess. No matter how outrageous your thoughts are, there’s no way that the person in front of me can guess that I’m from the future. As I thought about what to say, Yukimura suddenly pulled me into an embrace.)

(Yukimura?)

MC: Yukimura? What’s wrong?

Yuki: Ugh... I hate it.

(What?)

Yuki: Oi, you better listen to me carefully, idiot! That sort of expression... don’t show it to other people, got it?

MC: W- What expression?

Yuki: That one just then!

MC: The things you say make no sense, I can’t even see what kind of expression I’m making...

Yuki: J- Just-

(He placed a warm hand on my head.)

Yuki: From now on... only show that face to me, alright?

MC: Um...

Yuki: Hurry and reply!

MC: ... I got it.

(After hugging me for a while, Yukimura finally loosened his arms. I felt that my face was red enough to start dripping blood, but pushing away my shyness, I looked up into Yukimura’s shining eyes.)

MC: That... what exactly do you mean?

Yuki: Y- You know... that meaning.

MC: What? If you don’t say it clearly, how am I supposed to know what you mean?

(Yukimura looked at me, mouth open as if he was lost for words. Finally he scratched his head in annoyance, and suddenly reached for my chin, covering my lips with his warm ones.)

(The soft sensation was full of love. The guy who was usually always so carefree, was now kissing me with unexpected cautiousness and gentleness.)

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #mytranslations #chinese #raw #ikesen chinese #ikesen yukimura #sanada yukimura #im not crying you are #otome game

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mixedfandomimagine · 6 years

Text

Bad Behavior *Alfie Solomons x Reader x Tommy Shelby*

A/N: I used prompts from this list :) Requests are open and feedback is appreciated!

Warnings: filthy smut

Word Count: 3,100

PART TWO HERE

“Don’t give me that look,” Alfie warns, purposefully avoiding the pleading look your doe eyes are directing at him.

You pout, still trying to get his attention, hoping to persuade him to your side. Behind you, the front door slams shut. You jump at the sharp noise, too scared to turn back to look at Tommy.

Tommy’s hand grips your shoulder, nails digging in painfully. He steers you forward, ordering, “Bedroom. Now.” His voice is low and commanding, and not only does it send a rush of fear through your veins, but arousal.

Alfie busies himself with putting his shoes by the indoor mat, not looking at either of you as you pass. He doesn’t want to get caught in the middle of an argument.

It all started at dinner. Your loving boyfriends wanted to take their favorite girl out for a fancy, romantic meal. You’d been teasing them all night. Alfie hadn’t been too bothered by it, but Tommy got fed up with your antics rather quickly. He’d been warning you all night, “Best behave, little one. You don’t want to see me angry.” At one point he’d threatened, “Don’t make me take you home and punish you.” And that’s exactly what he was in the process of doing.

Alfie was a more lenient dominant, he knew you had a tendency to misbehave and talk back. He actually liked it a little when you were bratty. But Tommy- that man had no patience when you didn’t listen.

On the drive home you’d pushed your luck further, perhaps too far. You’d tried to slip your hand into Tommy’s pants. With a stern glare all he said was, “Now you’re in trouble.” The serious and cold tone of his voice made you rethink your actions, wondering if you had went too far.

Thinking back on it, you probably had. Tommy calmly takes off his suit jacket, carefully putting it over the back of your vanity chair. He slowly unties his dress shoes, brushing a spot of dust off. You stand mute by the bed, waiting for an order, command, reprimand, anything but the silence that’s a thousand times louder than words.

“You’re awfully quiet now, aren’t you?” Tommy asks. You don’t answer, hoping it’s a rhetorical question. “Alfie and I are going to have a chat about what to do with you, hm. Then you’re going to accept your punishment and enjoy it.”

You purse your lips at the thought of it. You fumble with your bracelet, a lovely and delicate chain that Tommy gave to you on your birthday. Your face flushes with shame at the feeling of making him angry.

He leaves the room, not acknowledging you again. You wait impatiently while the men talk, wondering anxiously what the verdict will be. Soon (but feeling like an eternity later) they return.

“Ol’ Tommy is disappointed in your behavior tonight, pet,” Alfie tells you. “He’s decided you need to be taught a lesson.”

“20 spanks with my belt, darling. Strip and get over my knee,” Tommy says.

You let out a sigh. Nothing too bad. You pull your dress off quickly, your boys watching every movement you make. Next to come off are your undergarments. You’re not new to being intimate with either of them, but you still shy away from their blatant stares at your body. Tommy unbuttons his cuffs and rolls his sleeves up, the simple action sends a pulse of heat straight to your core.

You position yourself across Tommy’s lap. The moments move slowly by, each one feeling like it lasts years as you press your thighs together in anticipation.

The belt collides with your ass harshly. You flinch at the impact. The next four are in quick succession, giving you no time to recover from the previous.

Five more and your fingers are digging into the bedsheet, gripping so hard your knuckles are white. You whimper at each one, biting your lip until it bleeds to keep the sound from coming out. You know it’ll only anger Tommy more.

Your forehead presses into the mattress, needing to relax the muscles the were tensing up at every strike. Tommy huffs, grabbing your hair and yanking your face from the sheets, “Up.”

11 through 15 bring tears to your eyes, spilling down your cheeks and ruining your makeup. You sniffle, still trying to stay as silent as possible. “What do we say?” Tommy asks.

“T-thank you, sir,” you grit out.

“Count down the last five for me,” he requests.

You nod, panting from pain and pleasure. The belt smacks down against your sore ass. “Five.”

You’d be stupid to hope you won’t be sore in the morning. It’ll hurt to sit normally for days you suspect. “Four.”

The sound of the belt hitting your skin wouldn normally be arousing, but you’re in too much pain to focus on it. All you can focus on is the tingling skin on your backside, squirming to get some relief. “Three.”

The pain feels unbearable, all you can think of is the remaining two spanks and then it’s over. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing time to speed up. “Two.”

Tommy shifts you on his lap, and your legs spread open wider with the movement. The belt collides with the sensitive place between your legs. A shriek flies out of your mouth, no matter how hard you were trying to stay quiet before. You writhe in Tommy’s lap, trying to move away from him. His hand massages over your bruised ass in a soothing manner, a sharp contrast to how rough he just was.

A sob spills past your lips at the tingling sensation on your bottom. “I didn’t hear a ‘one,’ do I need to start over?”

“No! No, no no. Tommy please!” Your heart speeds up at the thought of another 20 spanks of torture.

“Oi,” Alfie cuts in from across the room, where he’s reclining in the vanity chair. “Give the girl a break, right, she’s had enough to learn her lesson.”

You raise your head enough to look into Alfie’s eyes, silently thanking him. All you can do is try to catch your breath, praying your punishment is over.

Tommy gets up, gently moving your body all the way onto the bed. It’s almost like he was never mad in the first place.

The mattress dips as Alfie sits next to you, stroking your hair lovingly. His thumb swipes the tears off your cheeks. “You did great, dove. C’mon, sit on daddy’s lap.”

You maneuver yourself up carefully. Instead of sitting on his lap you straddle his thigh. If you have to sit down you’d probably end up crying.

Alfie presses featherlight kisses all over your face, smiling when his beard tickles you. Nothing makes you happier than seeing his eyes light up.

Finally Alfie’s lips meet yours. It’s like a stormy sea meeting the cliffs. Giving and taking until a rhythm is found.

You press closer to him, his arm around your waist and his hand on your neck. Your hands rest on both sides of his face, affection radiating from your touch.

Without realizing, you grind down onto his thigh, desperately trying to get some friction. “Tommy did quite a number on you, didn’t he, babygirl?”

You look at him, confused. Alfie smirks and glances down at his leg. You follow his gaze, noting the wet patch you’ve made on his pants.

“Who knew pain gets your pretty little cunt so wet,” he drawls, pinching your nipple to a peak. You moan softly as he nuzzles your neck, sucking and biting the soft skin.

Your hips press down so you’re rutting against his leg again, the delicious friction from his rough pants going straight to your clit. “Take it easy, pet.” Alfie’s hand on your hip stills your movement. “You know how Tommy feels about starting without him.”

Your attention is brought back to your aching ass. You’re exasperated with Tommy’s rules. “I’m tired of listening to him,” you admit quietly.

Alfie chuckles in your ear as his fingers trail up your back. “Best keep those thoughts to yourself, now, right. Wouldn’t want another spanking.”

You scowl at the thought. In an act of defiance you circle your hips, resuming what you were doing before. The heat coiling deep inside you is making you more needy than ever, if someone isn’t fucking you soon you’re going to lose your patience.

Your hand reaches down to palm Alfie’s cock. You’re pleased to find he’s almost fully hard. “Do you like watching me get punished, daddy?” You ask in a sultry tone, teeth pulling on his earlobe.

“‘Course. Hard to resist when your little ass is stuck in the air, innit, turning seven shades of red as you whimper and cry out in Tommy’s lap.”

“I see you started without me,” Tommy notices. He came out of the en-suite bathroom, with significantly less clothes on. Your eyes take in his physique, wondering how he can look so godlike.

“I couldn’t resist,” Alfie informs him.

“You never can,” Tommy says with a small smile.

Alfie tosses his shirt off and lays back on the bed, pulling on your hips insistently. “Well, hurry up, pet. I’m a starving man, right, and I don’t feel like waiting much longer.”

Your cheeks tinge pink as you crawl up his bofy, your center hover over his face. Alfie uses a few fingers to spread your lips apart, then looks up at you. “Would ya look at that, Tom, she’s fuckin’ soaked. This pink li’l pussy is just beggin’ to be fucked.”

You let out a whimper at his filthy words. Alfie, ever the teaser, starts slowly. He takes his time kissing up the inside of your thighs, fingers tracing softly over your mound, then your lower lips.

You all but scream when he finally puts his mouth on you. He presses kisses all over your cunt before darting his tongue out, licking through your folds.

His tongue laps over your entrance, eagerly tasing your arousal. He hums his approval, sending a bolt of electricity through you. “Mm, tastes like fuckin’ candy.”

He makes his way up to your clit, circling quickly. You gasp, a hand tugging on his hair. His arms are locked around your thighs, holding you to him. He wouldn’t have let you go, as if you’d even want to.

“Ah- Alfie!” You cry when he harshly sucks on your clit. His beard feels so nice as it scratches up your delicate skin. It’s a nice contrast to the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.

Tommy makes his way onto the bed, fully naked now. He gets on his knees in front of you, pulling you close to him to share a passionate kiss. You moan into his mouth as Alfie works wonders with his tongue.

Tommy pulls back, lips swollen and eyes hooded. “I want to see your mouth on my cock, sweetheart.”

You lean forward so you can reach it easier. You kiss your way down his stomach, nails scratching teasingly. Your kisses trail to the base of his dick, then you chastely kiss the tip. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips, looking up at Tommy. He nods encouragingly. You can’t help but take a second to admire his cock. Every time you see it it takes your breath away, like it was sculpted in marble.

You lick a stripe up the side, leaving Tommy sighing at the contact. He groans, a sound deep in his chest, when you finally take him into your mouth. You hollow your cheeks and bob your head, enjoying the unholy sounds Tommy is making due to you.

Below you, Alfie inserts two fingers into you. He curls his fingers the way he knows will leave you dripping and panting. He fingerfucks you ruthlessly, and the sinful sounds echo throughout the room.

“Fuck,” Tommy groans out at the noises. “Is Alfie treating you well, doll?”

All you can do is moan an affirmative, the sound sending virbrations up Tommy’s cock and straight to his balls.

“I know you can be louder than that, pet,” Alfie coaxes. He confirms his statement by sucking your clit between his lips. You moan loudly this time, not holding anything back.

Tommy’s hand fists in your hair, pulling you further toward him. You relax your throat, going so deep your nose brushes against the hair at the base. After a minute it’s too much and you pull away sputtering and coughing.

You can feel your saliva dribbling down your face and onto your tits, and taste the precum on your tongue. Tommy takes your chin in his hand, thumb swiping at the precum on your chin. He pushes the digit into your mouth, eyes closing when you suck gently.

“Open your mouth and don’t close it,” he commands.

You nod, doe eyes looking up at your boyfriend. His hands rest on the back of your head as he uses your mouth roughly. He’s fucking your face and there’s nothing you can do but keep your mouth open.

“You look so gorgeous with a cock in your mouth,” he grits out. “It’s like you were made to be our little slut.”

Alfie chuckles, thumb rapidly rubbing your clit. You grip his hair none too gently, and he knows you’re close. Tommy notices and warns, “Don’t you dare cum unless you’re told.”

“She’s pretty close, Tom,” Alfie interjects. Your thighs are shaking on either side of his face, all your muscles tightening with the need for release. “Fuckin’ clenching around my fingers an’ shakin.’”

Tommy pulls away, leaving you panting and trying to catch your breath. You brush your hair out of your eyes, pleading, “Please, sir. Let me cum. Please, I won’t be bad ever again.”

“Cum,” is all Tommy says. At the confirmation you let all your inhibitions go.

Pleasure courses through you so sharp and white-hot that you have to hold on to Tommy to stay upright. Alfie works you through it, slowing his pace but continuing his ministrations until you get every second of satisfaction from your orgasm. You shiver as he licks up every drop of your wetness, brushing over your sensitive clit.

Alfie maneuvers out from under you. He takes the place in front of you while Tommy gets behind you, pulling your hips up so you’re on your hands and knees.

Tommy presses into you easily, moaning lowly when he’s fully sheathed. He starts a relentless pace, your breaths both deep and labored.

Alfie strokes his hand over your cheek, coaxing you to open your mouth for him. You notice how damp his beard is, it’s practically glistening in the low light of your bedroom.

You work your mouth on him the same way you did for Tommy, but switching it up a bit to include things that you know make him weak in the knees. Like fondling his balls. Tommy likes it too, but whenever you kiss or palm Alfie’s balls he lets out the sweetest sounds.

All you can hear is skin hitting skin, and the way you’re sucking on Alfie’s cock. Three sets of strained breathing and the blasphemous noises of what feels like a divine act. If you were told you were going to die soon, this is the way you’d want to go out.

Tommy’s hands grip your hips, pulling you back into him with each thrust. Every time it pushes you further towards Alfie, making his cock go further down your throat.

After what feels like seconds and hours at the same time, Tommy’s hips stutter, silently announcing his impending orgasm. He thrusts deeply into you one last time before his hips still, cock twitching in you as his warm cum fills you up.

When he pulls out slowly, you feel his essence drip down your leg. “Didn’t last that long, Tommy boy,” Alfie teases.

“Yeah, well, what can I say, her cunt’s divine.” Tommy runs a hand over your hair as he passes by to get cleaned up.

“Doin’ alright, pet?” Alfie questions.

“Amazing,” you tell him with a blissed out smile on your face.

He leans back against the headboard, letting you climb into his lap. As you sink onto his cock he lets out a sigh. You’ll never get over how amazing your boys feel when they’re inside you. Both so different yet you fit together perfectly. Where Tommy is more long and slender, Alfie’s cock is a bit shorter yet thicker. It stretches you out all over again every time he fucks you, like he’s never taken you before.

You bounce on top of him shamelessly, palms pressing into his chest. He gropes your breasts, toying with the nipples until they turn a deeper color. The kiss you share is filled with ardor, and you taste yourself on his tongue.

Alfie’s heels dig into the bed, and he begins thrusting up into you at a quick pace. His balls smack against your ass and you try not to smile at the sound and the determined look on his face.

Before long Alfie’s asking, “Where ya want me to cum, dove?”

Without hesitation you say, “Inside me.”

He smirks at you, “What a filthy little girl you are.” He cums as you’re kissing. Alfie rolls you over, still inside you, to press kisses to your neck and take a nipple into his mouth.

When he pulls out you feel too empty, your walls clenching around nothing. “Get a towel, Thomas?” Alfie calls out.

Tommy brings one, damp with warm water to clean you up. He admires the sight of you before he does, their mixed cum being pushed out of your pussy, down your thighs and onto the sheets. If he hadn’t already came, that vision would’ve done it.

With a soothing gentleness Tommy cleans you up. He grabs the first shirt he sees (one of Alfie’s) and helps you into it. You’re starting to feel the tug of sleep, so you lean back against the pillows as Tommy pulls the stained sheet off the bed.

Tommy crawls up next to you, pulling you into his arms. Your skin is flushed and a bit sticky with sweat, but he doesn’t care. “I’m sorry about earlier,” you say.

He placed a loving kiss to your forehead, “It’s alright, sweetheart.” His fingers trace up your arms. After a few moments Alfie joins you. You fall asleep between your boys, content and in love.

#alfie solomons x reader #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinder imagine #alfie solomons x reader x tommy shelby #peaky blinders #alfie solomons #tommy shelby #x reader #peaky blinder fanfic #smut #started 8-25-18 #writing

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x0401x · 6 years

Photo

Mekakucity Talkers: Chapter 34

Account information disappeared due to a bug in the chat!! As each was asked for their names... for some reason, four people are calling themselves “Shintarou”!? Will it ever be possible to find the real Shintarou...!?

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Mekakushi-dan Chatroom

???: Come to think of it, today is... Huh? What’s this? The icons ain’t showing.

Kido: What’s up? What? Mine’s being properly displayed.

Momo: What happened? Mine is also properly rendered~.

???: Could it be it’s only me? That’s troubling.

Kido: There might be a bug in the chat.

???: No helping it.

Momo: Erm... who are you?

???: Your Onii-chan.

Momo: Aah, what, it’s Onii-chan?

???: What do you mean by “what”?

Momo: I put myself at disadvantage by using formal speech.

???: You little...

Kido: You siblings sure get along well.

Momo: Please drop it, Danchou-san!

???: My bad, Kido; this kid is hitting puperty.

Momo: Ah~, geez~, shut upp~! But it’s hard to get angry since your icon isn’t the same as always...

???: Indeed, it’s inconvenient. I also don’t get it.

Kido: Well, among the group members, Shintarou is the only one who talks like that, so it’s okay, right?

??? (2): Hey! Wait a moment!

Kido: Hm? There’s someone else whose icon isn’t showing up due to the bug? Who’re you?

???: Well, I’m Shintarou.

Momo: Eh, Onii-chan?

???: What’re you saying? I’m telling you that I’m Shintarou.

??? (2): You too, what nonsense are you talking about?! You’ll make everyone confused!

Kido: There are two Shintarous... you say...!?

Momo: Erm, what’s the meaning of this?

???: Hey, Momo, you can tell, right, that I’m your Onii-chan?

??? (2): No, I’m her Onii-chan.

Momo: Hey, I don’t know either~!

Kido: I see.

Momo: Danchou-san? Have you figured something out?

Kido: Well, it’s a plain story. Simply put, one of them is just pretending to be Shintarou. There’s only one Shintarou, after all.

??? (3): Hey, hey, what’s with this fuss? Impersonating me... Aren’t there some pretty daring bastards here?

Kido: !? Say what...!?

Momo: It can’t be...! There are three Onii-chans...!?

??? (4): Woop, can you hold on a bit? I generally get this situation. It means these guys are pretending to be me.

Kido: A... fourth...?

Momo: Uwah, there are four people like Onii-chan...

??? (3): We’ll finally find out the idendity of this party.

??? (2): Yeah... this is a... trial!

??? (4): Who will name himself as the real Shintarou-san?

???: Shall we make clear who’s guilty and who’s innocent...?!

Kido: Ah~, shut up, shut up.

Momo: Gross, gross.

??? (3): Hey! What do you mean by “gross”?!

???: In hypothetically, we’re your Onii-chan!

??? (4): That’s right, that’s right! Your Onii-chan!

??? (2): Take the “gross” back!

Kido: What an irritating exchange.

Momo: But, well, no way that there can be four Onii-chans here. Meaning that three Onii-chans among them are fakes, right?

??? (3): It’s not like I’ve come here to play around, y’know?

??? (4): Out of the people naming themselves “Shintarou”, it’s better for the ones without resolve to confess right now.

???: Interesting; why don’t we do that?!

??? (2): The true Shintarou-san is... me!

Kido: As long as they’re saying all this themselves, we have no choice but figure out which is Shintarou...

Momo: What should we do? How will we eliminate them?

Kido: Let’s see... How about with “Shintarou-san points”?

??? (3): That’s a crude way of dealing with it!

??? (4): But it’s still a method.

???: Looks like I also have no choice but prove the truth myself!

??? (2): A~ll right! I’ll show you that I’m Shintarou-san with my unparalled conversation powers!

Kido: Ah~, shut up, shut up.

Momo: Gross, gross.

Kido: We’re trying to guess the right one, so why’re you messing around on purpose?

Momo: But the last one is some~how Onii-chan-ish, so I’ll give him a Shintarou-san point.

??? (4): AIGHT!

??? (3): Hey, I’m the smartest, though.

???: But I think there’s more Shintarou-san-ness steeping at the end of all my sentences, though.

??? (2): So I’ve fallen behind... To think I’d do that...

Kido: Well, let’s leave the point system aside as a joke.

Momo: It’s a joke, huh.

Kido: I’ve more or less detected who’re the ones impersonating him. One of them is Kano either way, right?

??? (3): I see.

??? (4): Indeed.

??? (2): You’ve got a point.

???: No mistaking it.

Momo: This talk is so complicated.

Kido: That’s weird. If it were him, once I said, “One is Kano either way”, I thought he’d reveal himself like, “You’re horrible~”.

??? (3): To think she’d calculate that much.

???: Danchou-san, you’re terrifying.

??? (4): Honestly.

??? (2): Hie~~~

Kido: Hey, the last one is starting to get annoying already.

Momo: The four of you don’t have to go through the trouble of replying... But indeed, this feels like something Kano-san would do.

Kido: He’s the most suspicious, after all.

Momo: Other people who would do it are... h~m... Mary-chan still can’t type difficult words... and Seto-san isn’t the type of person who’d do something like this, right?

Kido: Both Seto and Mary are out shopping. Seto forgot his phone in the hideout. The two are eliminated. The ones left are...

Momo: Could it be Hibiya-kun!? Is it Hibiya-kun!?

Kido: Calm down, Kisaragi. It’s not like that’s decided yet!

Momo: If Hibiya-kun turns out like Onii-chan... I... I...

Kido: I get how you feel... but don’t be pessimistic... I totally get how you feel, though...

??? (3): Hey, cut it out.

??? (4): This is the treatment I get for listening quietly?

??? (2): The real one is among us.

???: The real Shintarou-san is a poor thing.

Kido: It’s noon right now. Isn’t Hibiya in the middle of class at school this very moment?

Momo: I see! I’m right at my afternoon break from work, but it’s school time for Hibiya-kun, huh?

Kido: I don’t think he’d be doing something so stupid during class.

Momo: That means it’s also not Hibiya-kun, right?

Kido: Yeah. Anyway, all that’s left is an elimination method. We’ll have the accounts that we find suspicious log out.

??? (3): Isn’t that acting through brute force?

??? (2): Danchou-san is all the more terrifying.

???: I can’t even use to the toilet in peace.

??? (4): I’m already on stand-by, though.

Kido: Hm? Wait. You, the last one who replied just now.

??? (4): What? Me?

Kido: That’s right. Where are you at the moment?

??? (4): Hey, hey, don’t make me say it all. When I said I was on stand-by, I meant in everyone’s resting place, that private spot.

Momo: Ah!

Kido: It seems you’ve realized, Kisaragi.

??? (4): What...?

Momo: Onii-chan’s routine rhythm is the same every day, so he also generally goes to the toilet at a predetermined time... At this hour, Onii-chan is always in his room!

??? (4): Wha...!?

Kido: That’s what it means to slip when you talk. You’re an impostor! Leave!

??? (4): W-W-Wait. Stop.

Kido-san has kicked out ???-san.

Kano: Geez, kicking me out is so mean~. Oh?

Momo: Ah~! Kano-san!

Kido: So it really was you.

Kano: Looks like we go back to our normal accounts when we get kicked out. As expected, I wasn’t knowledgeable of Shintarou-kun’s toilet affairs. I guess this means that... I was too soft with my judgement.

Kido: Three people left, huh... Okay, let’s keep this pace and go looking for the false Shintarous. No, the Faketarous.

??? (3): Why did you correct yourself?

???: Feeling giddy?

??? (2): You’re starting to have fun too, huh?

Kido: That’s not it. I just thought it seemed surprisingly simple.

??? (3): Will it go that smoothly?

???: We’re not as easy as the previous one...

??? (2): He’s the weakest of the Four Heavenly Shintarou Kings...

Kido: Well, you guys also seem to be having fun.

Momo: Somehow... I have a hunch that this kind of thing feels... Onii-chan-ish. I can’t tell for sure, because everyone is so good at it.

Kano: Well, it’s ‘cause we talk so much~, so we can grasp each other’s traits.

Kido: I see. I don’t think there’ll be any more blunders from their way of speaking. Hmph.

Momo: Danchou-san, did you realize something?

Kido: Well, I’ve been curious since a while ago, but about the Shintarou who said, “Will it go that smoothly”, don’t you think they type pretty fast in the chat?

Momo: Indeed... Onii-chan types from his computer, so he’s also fast... but since earlier, one of them has been the first to respond!

??? (3): What of it?

Kido: It wouldn’t mean much if it had been once or twice, but this one is always the first to reply. The only one that can do this is the possessor of the “Stirring” power, who has a virtual body and is able to type just by having it in their mind!

??? (3): !!

Kido: Now, reveal your identity!

??? (3): AAH~~~!!

Kido-san has kicked out ???-san.

Ene: My~, I didn’t imagine that I’d be found out by the speed with which I send chat texts! To think I’d do this... It’s a failure for my whole life!

Kido: So it really was you.

Momo: As expected of Ene-chan! You’re always by Onii-chan’s side so you were exactly like him! I couldn’t tell you apart at all~.

Ene: Well, it’s not like I’m beside him as if I were glued to him, y’know? Nursing Master is my job, after all~. He naturally rubs off on me.

Momo: But with this, it’s just two left, Danchou-san! We’ll end this soon, huh!

Kido: No, I wonder about that...

Momo: Eh?

Kido: Frankly, I had an idea that it was Kano and Ene, but who’s the other person?

???: That’s right, who’re you?

??? (2): And who’re you?

Momo: Indeed... Kano-san and Ene-chan would do something like this, but in the end, no one else among the members who seems like they would do it comes to mind.

Kido: They’re two luck-pushers, after all.

Kano: Hey, what do you mean by that?

Ene: At least call us entretainers!

Kido: Now, leaving aside Seto, Mary, Hibiya and Hiyori, the other two people who can enter and exit this chatroom are... no, wait.

Momo: Danchou-san?

Kido: Konoha has an alibi.

Momo: Eh? What do you mean?

Kido: I just came to the hideout’s living room and Konoha is sleeping here.

Momo: Ah, then he couldn’t have been chatting.

Kido: If so, there’s only one person left.

Momo: Ayano-san!

Kido: Well, Nee-chan has known Shintarou for a long time, after all. Must be easy for her to imitate the way he speaks.

??? (2): So you’re Ayano? Pretty rare for you to be doing something like that, ain’t it?

???: No, you’re Ayano, right? You’ve already been busted, so how about you give your name?

Kido: Indeed, these two have a point in what they’re saying. Judging by Nee-chan’s personality, she’ll likely give her name by the moment we get it right... I see. Until it becomes only one person, that’s how it’ll be? Let’s end this for good.

Momo: Danchou-san, could it be you already know which is the real Onii-chan!?

Kido: Don’t underestimate your leader. I’m probably not wrong.

Momo: That means it’s finally the climax, huh?! It was a long battle...

Kido: Yeah.

???: Please believe me! I’m the real Shintarou!

??? (2): I’m begging! I can’t have you say that I’m not Shintarou over something like this!

Kido: The false Shintarou is... you, the one who replied second just now!

??? (2): Hey...! Wait up! I’m the real one! For starters, you got any proof to back up that I’m a fake?!

Kido: It’s simple. You’re too Shintarou-like, so you reek of lies. You seem suspicious instead.

??? (2): No, what’s with that motive?! I wanna hurry and be done with this already!

Kido: Which is why you’re a fake! Admit it!

??? (2): Wait a min

Ayano: Everyone, you seem to be having fun, huh? What’re you doing?

Kido-san has kicked out ???-san.

Kido: Eh? Nee-chan?

Shintarou: Hey! Didn’t I tell you I was the real one?! Also, what’s with that about being “too Shintarou-like”?! It’s just that this was getting annoying!

Momo: Huh?

Kano: What’s the meaning of this? Nee-chan came before he was kicked out, right?

Ayano: Eh? What? What happened? Was I not supposed to have come here?

Ene: No, it’s not like that, but...

Momo: Erm? So this means...

Kido: Who was that... just now?

#kagerou project #kagepro #mekakucity actors #mekakucity reload #kisaragi shintaro #kido tsubomi #kano shuuya #kisaragi momo #ene #enomoto takane #tateyama ayano #kisaragi shintarou #mekakucity talkers #kagerou daze #my translation

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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years

Text

The Sex Contract - Chapter 9

Genre: friends to lovers au / friends with benefits / mature content / romance / angst

Characters: Shim Changmin x Kaia Ashton (OC)

A/N: Due to the overwhelming request I have followed your encouragement to bring back one of my older stories. This was back in a time where OCs were everything and writing one chapter in each main’s point of view was the trend. I hope that even though I have edited this drastically, that you can appreciate this story comes from my older style of writing. I definitely still read this often and find it enjoyable so I hope you will too.

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 - FINAL

Chapter 9 – Changmin’s POV.

Changmin let Kaia into the apartment and frowned instantly, the scolding he was going to give her for wasting so much time left his mind as soon as he saw her expression. Instead, he grabbed her and led her over to the couch, helping her sit down.

“Is everything okay?”

She nodded distantly but otherwise didn’t reply.

“You don’t seem okay, in fact you look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” he pointed out, poking her arm gently. She didn’t even flinch and Changmin became concerned. Getting up from the couch, he went over to the kitchen and turned on the jug to boil some hot water. Collecting two cups from inside the cupboard he prepared the hot chocolates, in hopes the sugar would brighten her up without the effect of caffeine. He brought the drinks back over to where Kaia sat and placed them down on the coffee table.

The sound seemed to bring her out of her thoughts. “What did you say?”

“Nothing, but I made you a hot chocolate. You should drink it,” Changmin urged and the girl nodded, reaching forward for the cup and just held it. She fell back out of awareness and he wondered what she was overanalysing. He was somewhat an impatient person, and he wanted to help Kaia with her problem instead of wait for her to figure it out.

“Changmin, is it very easy for a person who doesn’t work for an Entertainment company to date an idol?” she eventually asked and he blinked a couple times at her question before shaking his head.

“You should know by now Kai, given you work in Entertainment news that it’s quite hard. It’s why most idols have relationships with each other or the people they work with.” Changmin placed his mug down and scooted closer to the caramel haired girl. “Why, what have you discovered?”

“N-nothing, I just wondered if a relationship like the one I just pointed out could stay off the radar well.”

He contemplated her statement. “Depends on the fame of the star. For someone in a less known position, it could be quite possible. But for someone such as myself, it’s barely possible to have a female friend, let alone date a girl without the whole world knowing. I’m just thankful no one has seen you as a potential partner or this entire agreement would become the most lethal operation in destroying my career.”

“Couldn’t that happen if news comes out about it?” she asked and then stared down at the beverage in her hand. “Could I end your career?”

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning closer to the girl and lightly bumping her so he didn’t spill her drink. “Why are you thinking so seriously, hm? What got you like this? Do you know someone who is dating a famous person now?”

She shook her head. “It mustn’t have been who I thought it was, because like you said, that would be nearly impossible.”

“You’ve sparked my curiosity now. Who exactly did you think you saw?”

“Junsu,” she mentioned and Changmin froze. “I uh, mean the Junsu from two pm of course ha-ha!”

He glanced at the girl who diverted her gaze, taking a gulp of her drink and then squealing because she had burnt her tongue. Changmin couldn’t help but chuckle at the awkward move and pulled Kaia’s head around so he could examine the damage. It didn’t look that bad. He smirked. “You’re so clumsy at times.”

“I didn’t think that through very well,” she agreed and then smiled, seeming to be stepping out of her thoughts. “So uh, I’m guessing you have to get back to work soon. Sorry, I wasted the time.”

“I’m not worried, I kind of miss just hanging out,” he told her honestly and she nodded her head. “I like where we’re at though too, I feel I’ve learnt a lot about you lately.”

“Like?” she wondered and Changmin chuckled again. “Hey, don’t you start teasing me. I came here on my lunch break and haven’t even eaten yet. I even gave up sushi for you.”

“So let’s order sushi then,” he proposed, glancing at his watch and faltering when he saw the time. She was right; Changmin was expected back at work in less than half an hour. He cringed lightly. “Can I order sushi for you?”

“Don’t worry; I’ll just get something on the way back to the office. Though if I’m honest, I don’t feel all that good. Do you have any medication I could take Min?” she asked, rubbing her neck and he eyed the girl with fresh concern, nodding his head and got up.

“Just wait here, I’ll get you some.” He headed into his bedroom and to the en-suite, looking in the cabinet for some medicine. Finding the box he required, Changmin went back out to the living room but frowned when she was nowhere in sight. “Kaia?”

There was no response, and he noticed her bag was still on the counter where she left it. Going over to where he left the girl, Changmin found her sound asleep on the couch. Smiling at her, he looked around before deciding to hoist the girl up. Changmin knew how uncomfortable it was to fall asleep on that couch. She surprisingly didn’t stir awake as he carried her down to his room, gently placing her on the bed and pulling the blankets up over her.

“You must be truly exhausted,” he murmured and stood back to his full height, glancing at his friend and then put the box of medicine on the bedside table. Jotting Kaia a quick note telling her to let herself out when she woke up, Changmin quietly stepped out of the room and headed out back to work.

“And so Minho said to me about some soccer match that he and Donghae, with a few trainees, have planned in two days. I was completely annoyed, of course, they plan things when we’re not in Korea,” Yunho mentioned as they both entered the apartment later that evening, exhausted from practice.

“Why are you complaining, Minho will be coming to Japan whilst we’re there. I’m sure if you time it well you could meet up for something.”

Yunho nodded and then stopped after turning on the lights. “Did Kaia come over today?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Did she forget her bag?” he continued to enquire and Changmin frowned, noting the handbag still in the same place it had been earlier. He stepped around Yunho and headed down to his bedroom, opening the door and stopped in his tracks. Kaia was still in the bed and seemed to be asleep. His breath was caught in his chest as he went over to her side and reached to feel her head. The action was enough to stir her and she opened her eyes, blinking a few times.

“How come you’re still here?” Changmin asked softly, crouching down as Kaia sat up in the bed. She looked around herself and coughed. “Are you ill?”

“My throat hurts a little.”

“Just wait here,” he told her and went down to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. Yunho was in there and looked at Changmin with concern. “She mustn’t have woken up when I left her here. She’s been asleep for at least nine hours now.”

“Sounds like she needed to sleep. Do you need a hand?”

He shook my head and smiled at the man before heading back down to the bedroom. Passing the bottle to Kaia, she drank some of it before coughing again. Changmin offered her the medication and she took it before slumping back down on the bed.

“Changmin-ah,” she said and he glanced at her. “I don’t think I have the energy to move. What time is it?”

“Eleven.”

“Ugh, okay.” She hung her head and then tried to heave herself to the side of the bed. Changmin gently stopped her.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

She looked at him tiredly. “Home. I don’t want to make you sick.”

“Well, you’ve already slept in my bed so I’m pretty sure I’ll catch it regardless. Though I am really fit so don’t worry about me, I’m more concerned about you. Which means you’re not leaving.”

“But-”

He shook his head firmly. “I have to wake up at three anyway to fly to Japan early. So don’t worry too much. Do you need me to help you to the bathroom?”

“Yes please,” she said and resigned herself to his aid. Changmin helped her in so she could use the room and then took her back to bed, assisting her in removing her jacket and pants so she was more comfortable. He then took off his own unneeded layers and flicked off the light, climbing onto the bed and snuggling into his pillows.

Everything was silent for a moment and he glanced over his shoulder at Kaia, the girl staring up at the ceiling. He chuckled and turned to face her. “Problem?”

“We haven’t exactly shared a bed on purpose yet,” she announced and he laughed again at her worries. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“We fell asleep after playing Fifa that one time at five in the morning, how is this any different? Besides, I’ve had more than enough sex with you now to not need to make a move. Sleep well Kai, I’ll see you if you wake up when I do.”

“I guess you’re right, night Min.” She sighed and then nestled into the pillow, closing her eyes and instantly drifting off.

Changmin found himself cat napping like he usually did when he knew the alarm was set for an odd time, and every time he woke up, he looked over at Kaia sleeping to make sure she was okay. It was a different experience and he enjoyed it, wondering if he would have felt any more satisfied than he did now, had they enjoyed some intimacy together before his trip to Japan. It made him realise that whilst he liked the arrangement a great deal, there definitely needed to be some changes when he got back home.

But for now, Changmin enjoyed the idea of sharing his bed with his best friend. Though he couldn’t put his finger on the reason, he knew he would miss her a great deal whilst in Japan this time.

_________________

Part 10

[TVXQ Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

#shim changmin #changmin #tvxq #tvxq imagines #tvxq scenarios #tvxq fiction #tvxq romance #changmin imagines #changmin scenarios #changmin fiction #changmin romance #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fiction #pwyl; the sex contract #prettywordsyouleft writes

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ilosttrackofthings · 6 years

Note

october 11 2015, "but you just won't leave" and or january 26 2016, "s"

send me a sunday six name+date and I’ll respond with more

So I can’t actually find “but you just won’t leave” in my fic folders so I can’t give you another snippet buuut I can tell you that it was supposed to be chapter 2 of I’m hoping you can save me. In it, Mike would spend pretty much the whole night knowingly hallucinating Jess, he assumes, as his own mental punishment for failing to save her. I have always hoped I’d manage to finish it up and I did rewatch Until Dawn recently so I’ll likely keep hunting for it in hopes it’ll actually get an ending.

Luckily, such is not the case with S (weird, considering that the one has a ~title that was its for real title but this one was just a random fic that by all rights I should never have been able to track down again because my organizational system was nonexistent back then). It was written in response to a Jemma/Steve prompt and I just couldn’t finish it but I’m too fond of what I did write to scrap it entirely so I hope you all enjoy:

Throughthe creepy fake wall, into the even creepier secret lair. One guard.Back of the room. Shield to the chest knocks him out before he candraw his sidearm.

Stevecatches the shield after it rebounds off the ceiling and only thennotices the other person in the room. She’s wrapped up in so manyrestraints he almost missed her. The contraption they’ve got her inis familiar, reminds him of what he and Sam dug up on the WinterSoldier in the early days. Poor girl’s just a kid, shaking andfighting while her eyes are fixed on that - what’s the word? -psychedelic screen up ahead. He smashes the star into the damn thingand she whimpers.

“Hey,hey, it’s okay. I’m Captain America; I’m gonna get you out ofhere, all right?”

Gently,he starts with the clasps holding her eyes open. She shuts them andher whole body relaxes so that when he gets her out of the cuffs, shesinks into his arms.

“Miss?”he prods, trying to hold her on her feet. “Miss, can you stand?”

Sherests one small hand on his shoulder - the other is held protectivelyclose to her body and he vows to punch at least one more HYDRA agentin the teeth before leaving this hell hole - but wavers so badly hecatches her around the waist with one arm.

“Okay,that’s not gonna work.” He taps his earpiece. “Sam? You stillairborne? I need a medical evac.”

Thereare a lot of calls questioning whether Steve’s the one who needshelp and he ignores them just like he ignores the backgroundexplosions and gunfire, focusing on Sam’s “What floor?”

“Thirty-eight.Whitehall’s office. I’ll make a hole.”

“Gotcha.Comin’ around now.”

Stevetaps off the device and looks down. The woman is resting against hischest, so still and peaceful. “Miss? You still with me?”

Shehums lowly and tips her head back. Her eyes are glassy but at leastshe’s awake. “Oh! You’re-”

“CaptainAmerica,” he says gently, filing it away to let Banner know she’shaving some memory issues. “You okay to walk or do I have to carryyou?”

“Um…”She catches her lower lip between her teeth and glances down likeshe’s checking to make sure she’s even got legs.

“Carryit is.” He hefts her into his arms before she can protest.

Shesways in his grip and falls heavily against his shoulder. “Whoa.”

“Youokay there?”

“Yes.Just …” He’s made it back into the office and is setting herdown on one of the couches when she finally gets to the en of that sentence. “Woozy.”He’s more and more glad he called Sam by the minute.

“Stayhere,” he says, using his captain voice and hoping it’ll keep herfrom rolling off the cushions. He makes sure her bad arm is restingsafely on her stomach and her good hand lands against the side of hisneck. “I’ve gotta blow a hold in the wall,” he saysapologetically. She nods like that makes complete sense.

Beforeleaving to set a few charges on Whitehall’s big, landscape window,he kicks the coffee table away so if she doesroll off she won’t be in danger of cracking her head open.

Theexplosion doesn’t wake her up. Neither does Sam lifting her in hisarms. Steve watches him disappear through the giant hole beforeheading back downstairs to beat up a few more HYDRA grunts.

She’snot their only rescue of the day - not by a long shot - but she’sthe only one on the quinjet that Clint brings around to pick him andNat up.

“Hi,”she says when he walks past. She’s on a gurney on the floor andsmiling in a very obviously drugged way. She doesn’t seem to noticeBruce splinting her swollen hand at all.

“Hey.”He squats down to look her over. “You remember me?”

Herface scrunches up so dramatically he has to bite back a laugh. “You-”she pokes him in the chest with her right hand and gets momentarilydistracted by the IV line- “smell good.”

Brucesnorts and on the other side of the cabin Sam doesn’t even tryto hold his laugh in.

“Mm-hm,”she says, patting Steve’s chest. “Very nice.”

“Don’ttake it too personal,” Bruce says, “Jemma here called me Tripwhen she first woke up and then tried to get me to confess I wasn’treally Bruce Banner.”

“You’renot,”Jemma says, swinging her hand over to give Bruce a weak smack - ormaybe she was trying to rub his hair, that’s more what it ends upbeing.

“Didyou?” Steve asks, giving up on keeping the smile off his face.

“Toshut her up,” Bruce says. “She was trying to quiz me on my work -did a damn good job considering she was already high as a kite - soI’m guessing HYDRA wanted her for her brain.”

“Yeah,”Steve says, remembering the machine she was hooked up to. “Theremight actually be some memory loss - how is she physically?”

Brucelooks up from his work on her arm. “Decent for someone in HYDRAcustody. The wrist is broken but it doesn’t feel too bad. She’sgot some bruising and some swelling. Not enough to do real damage,but enough to scare her.” His voice goes cold and distant, the wayit does when he’s thinking of things he shouldn’t be.

Stevekeeps alert for signs his emotions are getting away from him butotherwise leaves Bruce be.

Jemma’sdrifted off to sleep again and Steve brushes her hair from herforehead, revealing another bruise. Bastards.

Beneathhis feet the quinjet takes a wide turn. He and Bruce exchange a look;he’s not the only one confused.

“Uh,what’s happening?” he calls up to the cockpit. The cargo ramp isopening and he rests a hand on Jemma’s stomach just to be certainshe stays put.

“Starksays to head west!” Nat yells, her words almost lost on the wind.

Theramp closes and Tony’s heavy footfalls echo in the tight space.“Stark,” he says snarkily, “has been on the phone with MariaHill. Who very casually asked if we’d recovered any prisoners andthen even morecasually asked if any of them were former SHIELD agents.”

Stevetips his head back. “Was she?”

“Idon’t know!” Tony snaps. “The only records on this girl areHYDRA’s. You google her name and there’s nothing.She’s a ghost.”

Stevelooks back to Jemma’s peaceful face. He can feel Sam watching himand he’s willing to bet Nat’s paying just as much attention,though she’s too good to show it.

“Howdo you know Hill wants her?”

Thebreath hisses out of Tony as he steps away from his suit. “Ifinally got her to admit Agent Jemma Simmons is who she was fishingfor - probablywhy she gave us this base’s coordinates in the first place. Shetried to say the girl’s dadwas worried about her, but unless her dad’s the Invisible Man, I’mbetting that’s a load of crap.”

“Soyou’re having us fly awayfromHill,” Sam says slowly, “because … what?”

Tonyfalls into the two seats next to Bruce. “Because I want answers andI’m pretty sure she’smore likely to give them to us than Hill is.”

Bruceand Tony get into a fight over what, exactly, constitutes akidnapping, while Steve makes himself comfortable on the floor nextto Jemma’s head. He’s pretty sure Tony’s wrong - about thedefinition of kidnapping andJemma giving them answers. She just got out of HYDRA’s worstinterrogation cell and she still had the wherewithal to make Bruce Banneragree he was lying about his own name; she’s not gonna be easy.

Steve’sright. The next day - after her system’s clear of HYDRA’s drugs,the cast on her wrist is dry, and they’re all settled in at thewest coast base (aka the underground bunker Tony built out of theremains of his mansion after he got it blown up) - Jemma wakes up,realizes her doctor really is Bruce Banner, and promptly shuts hermouth. Tony cajoles, he threatens, he begs, but there doesn’t seemto be a damn thing he can say to get her to talk. It’s hilarious.

Steve’stempted to let it keep going - they’ve got popcorn and the securityfeed up on the big screen - but once people start placing bets, it’sgone a little too far.

“Okay,okay. I’m going in.”

There’sa lot of yelling - a surprising amount of it from Natasha - and evenmore popcorn thrown at him, but he’s not backing down. They’rethe Avengers, they don’t kidnap people, and despite Tony’sattempts this is looking more and more like a kidnapping - or atleast an unlawful detainment - every second. He snags an unopenedwater bottle on his way out of the lounge and jogs down the long hallto Jemma’s room.

“-allthe alien technology you can study! Seriously! I know Thor.”Tony’s latest line of attack is a good one - assuming Jemma reallyis a scientist like her HYDRA file says.

Steve’sbeen looking over it the last few hours. Far as he can tell, shedidn’t exist prior to six months ago when she started working intheir bioweapons division. Since then, she’s been an exemplaryemployee, even saving a superior’s life while on a field missionlast month. (What a lab rat was doing in the field, the file failedto say.) There’s some sketchy evidence linking her to a data leak,but it could just as easily lead to another branch of HYDRA as to areal enemy. They really have no idea who this woman is.

“Hey,”Steve says, stopping just inside the doorway. “You wanna give us aminute?”

“No,”Tony gripes. He steps up close so they can speak without beingoverheard. Steve keeps his eyes on Jemma, who looks worryingly smallin the oversized bed. “You think you can get her to talk?”

“Shehasn’t said a word in hours. Ten bucks says I can get her sayingwhole sentences in ten minutes.”

“Fiftyand five minutes.”

“Done.”

Tonyslaps Steve’s shoulder on his way out.

Stevegives Jemma a pained smile as the door swings shut and then grabs astool from the wall to bring it over to her. “So. I get that thisis … weird. You get captured by HYDRA, then you get saved by theAvengers, and now you’re in our secret base. Weird.”

Jemma’slooking him up and down warily, so he takes his time about pullinghis phone from his back pocket.

Heholds it out to her. “Here. You wanna call someone, go ahead.”

Shewants to. She’s temptedto, but slowly she shakes her head. Her eyes stay on the phone untilhe sets it on her bedside table.

“It’sright there if you change your mind. Water?”

Thistime she accepts, taking slow sips from the bottle. Steve’s beenthere. Even with the fluids Bruce has got her on to replenish whatshe’s lost, she wants that visceral feeling of drinking. She needsit or she’s never gonna feel normal in her own skin again, so helets the time tick by until she lowers the bottle to her lap andrecaps it.

“Let’sstart over,” he says. He holds out his hand. “Steve Rogers.”

Shestares - at him, at his hand, and then at the wall on her left.

“Canyou talk?” he asks, pitching his voice to sound worried. “Youneed me to call Bruce back-”

“Ican speak,” she says and Steve does a mental victory lap. He wisheshe could hear Tony cursing.

“Butyou’re not?”

Sheshakes her head, back to the nonverbal.

“Youwanna tell me why?”

Shesighs heavily and, when she speaks, sounds like she’s quoting amanual - or a lecture. “I am not legally allowed to be in the sameroom as any member of the group codenamed ‘the Avengers,’ nor amI allowed to communicate with any of them.”

That’sa new one. “Well now I gotta know why.”

Asmile tugs at her lips but they’re shut tight - tighter,if he had to guess.

“Allright. Plenty of time for that later. You were a SHIELD agent, right?Loyal?” He tries to sound uninterested in the answer but whatlittle residual anger he still feels over that day doesn’t seem toaffect her. She goes far away, her eyes haunted.

“Yes,”she says. And then she does the damnedest thing: she smiles.Steve doesn’t know what to make of it.

Henods, trying to get the conversation back on track. “Yeah, Mariasaid you were.”

Jemma’seyes snap to him, all at once back in the moment. “M-Maria…?”

“Hill,yeah. She was very interested to know whether we’d gotten you outof there safely.”

“Oh.”She doesn’t seem too happy about that. “You were sent … forme?”

“That’swhat we’re trying to figure out. Maria wants us to bring you backto New York yesterday.We’re a little more interested in the why.”

Aaaaaand then there would’ve been some fun with the Avengers figuring out that SHIELD is still going but Fury’s not in charge and Jemma trying her darndest to not let them in on the Coulson secret and of course some Jemma/Steve happening. But it was not meant to be, sadly.

#sunday six meme #my fic #/#//#///#aos fic #mcu fic #anonymous

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inyri · 7 years

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Equivalent Exchange (a SWTOR story): Chapter 25- Kinship

Equivalent Exchange by inyri

Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic Characters: Female Imperial Agent (Cipher Nine)/Theron Shan Rating: E (this chapter: M) Summary: If one wishes to gain something, one must offer something of equal value. In spycraft, it’s easy. Applying it to a relationship is another matter entirely. F!Agent/Theron Shan. (Spoilers for Shadow of Revan and Knights of the Fallen Empire.)

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Kinship

Even with Nightshrike running at full engine and their plotted route hewing close to the precarious edge of the Deep Core, the trip from Odessen to Alderaan takes six days.

A little more than halfway there, Nine’s barely drafted a working operational plan. It took a full day to get things settled at the base (they’re even shorter-staffed, now, with Theron landed on Coruscant and her off on what might turn out to be a wild rakghoul chase, but Lana took over without complaint) and en route, despite combing over every image Theron sent from the Alderaan cameras, the only thing she’s thought of so far is ‘drive out to the complex and knock.’

That leaves two more days to come up with a better idea. She’ll manage something.

Probably.

It’s not exactly an emergency, of course. Doctor Lokin’s been there for the better part of a year with not so much as a word on the Holonet since she came out of carbonite- maybe he really does just want out of the game. She wouldn’t blame him. Well into his sixties at their first meeting on Taris though she would never have questioned his ability or his capacity to work, he’d have been forced out of active service by now were they still allegiant to the Empire. If-

Kaliyo calls back from the bridge, breaking her out of her reverie. “Hey. Time for shift change.”

“Is it?” It seems like she just sat down to read through files, but if her datapad’s settings are right then so is Kaliyo. “Hold on. I’ll be right there.”

“Wish we’d brought the Lady of Pain with us.” Kaliyo unfolds herself from the pilot’s chair as she steps through the door to the bridge. “She knows the old man too, and three in the rota’s always better. More sleep for me.”

“Lady of Sorrows. And that was just her Zakuulan cover, but you know that.” With a chuckle, she slips past her into the seat. “Firebrand.”

Middle fingers raised, reaching over Nine’s head to grab the half-full glass perched on the console, Kaliyo grumbles. “Whatever. Still can’t believe I spent six months trying to slice into their files and SCORPIO kept breaking my programs just to fuck with me.”

“Maybe she didn’t know it was you.”

“Oh, she knew. She told me so when I got to Odessen.” Her face scrunches, the tattooed lines down her forehead drawing together. “‘You should be thankful,’ she said. ‘My counterprogramming improved your skillset by a factor of seven.’ Threatened to scrap her shiny ass.”

Nine snorts. “How’d that go over?”

“Apparently I’m welcome to try. Throw in a few Killiks, Doctor Rakghoul, and Temple rolling her eyes and muttering and it’s just like the good old days, huh?”

“We had our moments.” It’s quiet on the bridge, stars whipping past the window so quickly they blur into long bright lines and curling spirals, the rest of the ship empty and silent and still. “SCORPIO’s helping with some codebreaking. We finally have enough samples of Zakuulan encryptions that she thinks she can replicate their key. She offered to come with us, actually, but I asked her to stay behind and keep working.”

“Oh. Well, good for her.” Kaliyo turns toward the doorway. “I’m going to sleep. Catch you in six.”

She nods; Kaliyo slips out quietly. The bridge now empty, she kicks her feet up on the console, settling back and reactivating her datapad. If she can get through all of Hylo’s requisition forms in the next two hours- hm. Maybe she should grab a mug of caf before she-

Her commpad chimes.

are you alone?

Theron’s ID, but an odd question: they just spoke at breakfast, and he knows perfectly well she’s shipboard where privacy’s relative. When they talked he used Nightshrike’s address, its signal more reliable than her pocket holo, and she’d transfer the call to her cabin if Kaliyo seemed likely to eavesdrop (which was basically always. The woman had ears like a hawkbat.).

More or less. She taps out her reply. Something up?

need to call you. encrypt your holo.

That’s… not good. Datapad shoved back into her pocket, she slams her fist down on the door lock controls; it slides shut behind her with a soft pneumatic hiss, latches clicking into place. What’s wrong?

NOW

She pulls her holo out, flips two switches- encryption first, then location masking to boot. It’ll mean perhaps a second’s delay in transmission time, as fast as the ship’s moving, but something’s got Theron spooked and she knows better than to second-guess his instincts. He’s barely been on Coruscant a day. How had his plans gone awry this fast?

She knew this was a bad idea.

When the holo starts ringing she lets it connect. The picture lags behind the sound but when the signal locks in Theron’s mid-sentence, words sharp as gunshots and his tone brimming with barely suppressed fury. It barely sounds like him- she doesn’t think she’s ever heard him this angry, not even on Rishi.

“-telling you she had nothing to do with this. Why would I lie?”

“A few years ago I would have believed you.” She can’t place the other voice- older, male, the accent a hodgepodge of standard Coruscanti, middle-class Alderaanian and the distinctive cadence of the Republic military- and the image still hasn’t come into focus. This must be Theron’s contact. But who is it? “But then you went AWOL in the middle of a war to play at this alliance of yours and break a regicide- a Void-damned Cipher, no less- out of prison. I think I have plenty of reason to question your motives.”

“I resigned,” Theron snaps, “as you’re well aware. I’m not AWOL. And I thought you’d want to help, given all the time you spent on Alderaan. Clearly I was wrong, but-”

Finally, the holoprojector activates. Theron must be holding his own device; she can’t see him at all, the camera pointed away from him at the other speaker, a tall, broad-shouldered man in middle age, his face a web of old scars over brown skin-

She didn’t know his voice, but she certainly knows him by sight: he was at the top of their high-value target list at headquarters, right beside Saresh.

Jace Malcom, Supreme Commander of the Republic Military, stares flatly at her with his arms folded across his chest. “And here she is: the Ghost of the Empire. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Theron, what did you do?

***

Theron thought he’d run through every possible way that this could go.

Best case, obviously, he gets what he came for. He’s been watching Nine pace back and forth for weeks staring at photos of a dead-end canyon on Alderaan and in a spate of caf-flavored delirium he thinks he figured out a way around the problem. True, Jace hasn’t been stationed on Alderaan for years, but the garrison’s still under his command- stars, the whole damn Republic army’s under his command- and he’s got a soft spot for the place. He even ordered the gorak again at dinner. To get the shield generator’s turrets down would be a matter of a few relocated artillery emplacements; the Alliance could manage the rest with help from the local resistance.

Worst case, he’d thought, Jace would refuse. He’d be out the cost of the fuel but he’d have a day to resupply (his shopping list was short but meant four or five different stops, including the one place on the planet that sold the fancy face cream Nine likes so much; he almost choked on a ration bar when he saw the price of the tiny little jar but he loves the smell of it, sweet almonds and roses, and he saw she was running low the other night while trying to find the toothpaste in her ‘fresher cabinet) before their meeting and his return trip. Besides that, it would be good to see his father again. Maybe they could still salvage something of what they’d been trying to build before this newest war.

But this? This was way worse than the worst case scenario.

All during dinner he couldn’t shake the feeling someone was watching him. Just his security detail, he kept telling himself. Too long on the run, Shan. You’re getting paranoid. It was an uneventful hour- all small talk in public, of course, but no laser dot on his forehead, and the food really was good.

But then, back at Jace’s apartment, Theron didn’t even get three sentences into his spiel (he’d rehearsed it half a dozen times for Tee-Seven, which pronounced itself duly convinced) before the old man was on his feet.

He’d thought Theron wanted to defect back to the Republic, for fuck’s sake.

It devolved quickly after that, hard words on both sides that they’d have thought better of in the sober hours of morning, until finally he turned and pointed out the window at the column of cold blue light slicing upward into the sky.

“You look at that every single day. How can you stand here and tell me with a straight face that fighting the Empire is still more important than fighting back against Zakuul?”

“You dare- ” Jace takes a deep breath. “I see. Is that what your Alliance wants? For us to stop fighting the Empire?”

He sighs. “That’s not what I said. Two mobile cannons, Dad, and Alderaan’s free. We know our technique for the Fortresses is sound- it’s worked already on Belsavis, Hoth, Tatooine. You’ve seen it. It could work here, for that matter. But you won’t-”

“I saw what happened on Bothawui, too. The moment the Eternal Throne so much as suspects we acted against them, they will strike without mercy. It’s a risk we can’t afford.”

“But throwing your troops into a dead-end war against the Empire’s fine?” Theron turns away from the window in frustration. Nine was right. He should never have come here. “That’s what Arcann wants, and you all just keep playing his game.”

He turns quiet, then. Dangerously quiet. “That is it, isn’t it? Stop us fighting the Imps, or draw us into an attack that breaks our treaty with Zakuul- either way, the Empire benefits.” Jace looks at him, unblinking, head tilted to one side in a way that might just have been the scars on his neck pulled tight by tension. “Your Commander put you up to this.”

“Leave her out of it. The only thing she knows is that I’m on Coruscant. This was all my idea.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that.” He doesn’t, clearly, to judge by his tone.

Oh, Force, this was a huge mistake. That’s not a question; there’s no right answer to it, and no matter what he says he’s digging himself deeper into the morass of Jace’s paranoia.

(He never knew exactly why Satele left his father- he’d never had a conversation with his mother more than ten minutes long that wasn’t about work- but he’d asked Master Zho that question once, and the answer he got made no sense.

She saw what your father would become, Zho had said, and in leaving, she sought to change that fate.

Was she right? he’d asked, sitting cross-legged on the cave floor.

What do you think, boy? Are our destinies malleable? Or by seeking to alter them, are we merely creating a new path to a fixed destination?

He hadn’t understood it then. He thinks, now, maybe he understands.)

“Call your Commander,” Jace says abruptly. “Now.”

Theron blinks. “What? Why? Your answer’s no, I get it. I’ll just go.” Even as he says it, though, he clasps his hands behind his back, opening a channel via his implant and typing carefully onto his commpad in a way he hopes Jace can’t see. (are you alone?)

Her reply comes back at the same time Jace starts to speak again. “I’d like to hear what she has to say. War or not, you’re still my son- but if you’re here on behalf of Cipher Nine-” (More or less, she replies. Something up?) - “we’re going to have an issue.”

“How do you figure?” (need to call you. encrypt your holo.)

“You don’t work for the Republic any more, Theron. That can change. Just say the word and you’re back in the SIS, back fighting the good fight. But you know what the consequences are for an enemy agent-” he curls one massive hand into a fist and opens it again- “caught in our territory. Call her. I won’t ask again.” (What’s wrong?)

No. He wouldn’t dare-

He might. He really, actually might. Shit. He types one last message behind his back (NOW) before he pulls his portable holo from his jacket pocket, switches on the encryption before dialing in Nine’s frequency.

“I can’t promise she’ll even answer. But I’m telling you-”

The call connects.

***

She blinks twice before she manages to settle herself.

“I’m afraid I don’t use that particular name now.” Resisting the urge to cross her own arms, she settles for feet apart and hands interlaced at waist height. A neutral posture. “My current title is Commander of the Alliance Against the Eternal Throne, but I’ll settle for ‘Commander’ as well. Appropriate to equals, don’t you think?”

Malcom scowls. “Was that supposed to be a joke?”

“I’m not laughing,” she says, “and I appear to have missed your original question. What, precisely, am I meant to be explaining?”

“Theron Shan works for you. True or false?”

“Technically speaking his involvement in the Alliance predates mine. But you already know that, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” The camera angle shifts- he must have set the holo down. “Do continue.”

Slipping into frame behind the other man, Theron shakes his head slightly; before he can speak, though, Malcom’s talking again. “And you sent him to Coruscant to try to manipulate me into acting against Zakuul.”

The ridiculousness of it would make her laugh if he didn’t look lethally serious. “Don’t be absurd. Commander. Your well-publicized opinions on working with Imperials- even former Imperials- notwithstanding, if I was desperate enough to come begging the Republic military for favors I have more appropriate liaisons than Theron. To be perfectly frank, I wasn’t aware he’d ever met you.”

Theron winces.

She’s missed something, clearly. In the split second that marks Jace Malcom’s inhaled breath she looks back and forth between him and Theron, trying to get a better sense of the dynamic of the room.

“Like I keep saying-” his tone is a warning but she doesn’t know why; damn it all, Theron- “she has nothing to do with why I’m here. She doesn’t know-”

“You weren’t aware he’d met me. I expected a better caliber of lie out of you, Cipher.” Malcom’s face contorts in anger, his right eye nearly closed under layers of heavy scarring. “Like you wouldn’t maintain dossiers on every one of your subordinates. You sent my own son to-”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

So that’s why he wouldn’t tell her anything about Coruscant.

***

Theron watches her eyes dart back and forth between him and Jace and can pinpoint the exact moment when she sees it- in his skin tone and the bow of his upper lip, the shape of his chin and of his eyes. (He looked for himself in his father’s face for the better part of a month, only half-believing him after that first awkward conversation. He looks more like his mother, he thinks, his height and his build and the way he moves, but still, it’s there.)

Nine’s mouth falls open, just for a second; she’s so much better at keeping a straight face than him but a bombshell like that-

“Your son,” she says, rolling the word around her tongue in the way that she does when she’s trying to buy herself a few seconds to think, “as I suspect you know, is very good at keeping secrets. Whatever it was that he asked you, which I gather had something to do with Alderaan, he did not do it with my knowledge or at my behest. Now, is he free to leave, or do we have a problem?”

I’m sorry, he signs at waist height as Jace stays fixed on her image.

She doesn’t reply. Her eyes soften a little, maybe, but that might be wishful thinking.

“That depends on him.” Jace turns toward him as Nine’s brows arch. “It was a serious offer, son.” (A low blow, that one. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s called him that, and he’d bet it won’t get any higher after tonight.) “Come back to the Republic. The SIS needs you.”

“I know where I’m needed.” He sidesteps away, moving closer to the holo. “It isn’t here.”

“Theron-”

He picks it up off the table. “This was obviously a mistake. Thank you again for dinner, but I think I’d better go.” Turning the device in his hand until the camera refocuses- mostly on him, but keeping Jace in the picture- he looks at her expressionless face, a picture of calm worthy of a Jedi except for the slightest, subtlest flare of her nostrils. “Ni- Commander. I’ll call you when I’m shipboard, okay?”

She shakes her head. “Maintain this connection until you’re at safe distance. That’s an order.”

“Understood.”

He’s already started toward the entryway when Jace calls out to him. “Theron, please. You can’t seriously tell me you’re choosing this… this-” he pauses. “Yes, you worked together once, but you know what she is. The head of your Alliance is a liar and a murderer and she will use you and spit you out. How much damage did she do to the Republic? How many of your friends died at her hand?”

“I know what she was-” her figure shifts from side to side in the palm of his hand as he speaks; she’s heard far worse than that before, he’s sure, and some of it was true, once- “better than most. But what she is now is the best hope this entire galaxy has at defeating Arcann, and I trust her with my life.”

Jace sighs, shoulders slouching forward, a break in his perfect posture. “Then Force help you, because I won’t. I just wish you’d come to me years ago. I know you were frustrated by the war, but leaving the way you did- I don’t understand it.”

“Do you remember, Dad,” he says, hand on the door panel as it slides open, “the last time we had dinner together?”

“You’d just come home from Yavin. I do remember.”

“You asked me whether there was anyone special waiting.” (He’d choked on a sip of whiskey. It wasn’t exactly a question he could answer, then.) He takes a step into the hallway, looking back over his shoulder. “There was. Waiting just wasn’t the right word.”

Long before he knew who his father was, Theron had heard recordings of his speeches. Jace’s had a long career, a successful career as measured by the calculus of war; there have been many battles won and lost, many speeches, victorious and otherwise. He expects to hear one now.

When he leaves the apartment, though, the only sounds that follow are his own footsteps, the hiss of a closing door, and the muffled angry thump of a bare fist striking hard against a wall.

Nine stays silent all the way through the long ride down the turbolift.

When he finally moves from the foyer into the street (past a woman he’d bet good credits is undercover SpecOps- she raises one hand discreetly to her ear as Theron approaches but doesn’t stir from her perch on a well-padded chair) he goes about a block down before ducking into a narrow gap between two buildings.

“So,” he says by way of opening, “um. Let me exp-"

She unclenches her hands, raising one finger in front of her in the universal gesture of shut up and let me speak, and he quiets as she starts to pace back and forth across the length of the bridge. Uh-oh. “Get back to your ship, then explain. This isn’t the right place for that kind of conversation. He still might send someone after you-” she can probably see a little ways behind him in the holo, judging by the way she’s craning her neck to look- “and- stars, just get to the spaceport. Get airborne, get clear, and call me back.”

“He’s not going to send someone after me. He-”

“You don’t know that. One hour, starting now. Go.”

The connection terminates.

He can’t exactly run all the way back to his ship; while this isn’t the fanciest neighborhood on Coruscant by any means, it’d still look pretty damn odd to be sprinting down the walkway at eleven o’clock at night. Instead, he snakes through the alleyways for another few blocks (just in case), snags a taxi in front of a still-bustling restaurant, and lets it carry him to the spaceport.

***

She keeps pacing.

Back and forth, back and forth, her anger builds with every passing minute. She’s not sure, really, what she thought his plan was, but- oh, Theron. You idiot.

It had probably sounded like a good idea. With a connection like that to leverage- his father, for stars’ sake, can’t imagine why he wouldn’t have mentioned that before; oh, yes, my mother, the Grand Master of the Jedi Order and my father, the Supreme Commander: he could have been the fucking Chancellor in another life instead of abandoned in a cave- it could easily have succeeded, whatever it was he’d meant to do, and he’d have come back to Odessen ever so pleased-

Void take the Republic. She’d hoped they’d only pretended to roll over and play dead when Arcann put his teeth to their throat, that maybe Saresh (definitely still in charge despite their current Chancellor’s claims otherwise) and Malcom had some sort of plan to lull Zakuul into complacency before they finally struck to kill. But no. They were still on their backs, flashing their soft bellies to the sky.

Cowards.

She keeps pacing.

***

He’s up above the atmospheric threshold and about to jump to hyperspace with six minutes to spare- Tython first, he thinks, to set a false trail; he’d been sure no one was following him at first but the passenger in the taxi behind his had looked awfully familiar when they both disembarked at the spaceport- when he looks down at his commpad and he’s got half a dozen messages waiting.

Not from her. They’re on his public Alliance account, to start with, not the private channel they set up between themselves, and the address isn’t familiar. He sits down to read them as the engine kicks on.

what the kriffing fuck did you do

seriously spyboy what did you DO

i am trying to SLEEP and I can hear her swearing all the way across the ship

(Only one person that could be. He marks the address as Kaliyo’s; for a moment he thought it might have been Teff’ith, but the spelling’s too good.)

ok now she’s swearing in Huttese and none of that is anatomically possible

After a quick scan and despite his better judgment, he opens the file and realizes three things in rapid succession: one, that Nine’s way better at languages than him; two, that she is well and truly furious; and three, that Kaliyo was right. None of that is anatomically possible.

***

With two minutes to go and her rage mostly vented, she’s tired of pacing and starting to get genuinely nervous when Theron finally calls back.

“Are you safe?” She slides back down into the pilot’s chair, suddenly exhausted.

She’s not sure what he was expecting her to say but that must not have been it; he rubs his eyes and looks at her as Tee-Seven chirps, unseen, in the background. “I’m fine. I promise. Also, before you say anything, I bought an entire sack of caf beans yesterday and I’m fully prepared to use it to bribe you with. I know you’re angry-”

“I’m not that angry.” (She got most of that out of her system over the last hour. Most of it.)

“So you didn’t threaten to-” he glances down at something- “okay, I don’t know that word, but something about my implants something something Huttese poetry?”

Wait. How did he- she blinks.

“You were keeping Kaliyo awake, apparently. She sent audio.”

She sighs. She ought to glue ‘liyo’s ears shut one of these days; it’d serve her right. “I’m not that angry. You’re sure you’re safe?”

“I’m sure. I’m diverting a little bit, and I might have had a tail to the spaceport, but I’m okay. Should I meet you on Alderaan? I know we won’t be ready to run on the shield generator, but I can come help with Lokin if you want.” He smiles, sheepish, and sinks lower into his own chair. “And I can explain properly.”

“I told you he might send someone after you. Did you really think he was going to let you just walk out of there? I half-expected to have to break you out of one of the black cells down underneath the Senate complex.”

“There aren’t any cells underneath the-” Theron starts to say, then wrinkles his forehead. “There totally are, aren’t there?”

“Yes. Military, not SIS. Plausible deniability, et cetera.”

“And you’ve probably broken people out of them before?”

She nods. “Twice, actually, and the escape route goes through the sewers so it’s particularly unpleasant. I still would have come to get you, but I-” her neck’s gone sore from so much tension and she digs her knuckles into the muscles cording along either side of her spine. “Why didn’t you tell me, Theron?”

“I knew you’d think it was too much of a risk, but I was sure he’d-” ah, stars, he looks so sad, a flicker of raw grief passing over his face before it disappears into his usual wry half-smile. “I mean, you’d think you could ask your own father for a favor, right?”

One would think. One would think a great many things that turn out not to be true.

(She tries to picture them together, Satele Shan and Jace Malcom, for a moment; she’d always thought Theron’s father must have been another Jedi. Why else would Satele have been certain enough to commit him to a Jedi’s life from birth?

So self-righteous, Grand Master Shan. So calm, so controlled, always playing by the rules.

Such a hypocrite.

It makes her like her rather more, to be honest.)

“Come to Alderaan,” she says quietly. “You know the coordinates. But I want to hear the whole story.”

“You will.”

***

Two days later she settles Nightshrike into a clearing on the far edge of the ranch, just outside an electrified fence that she suspects was built more to keep things in than out. Theron’s a day away still, slingshotted around Tython to head back in their direction; she and Kaliyo spend a few hours prowling around the perimeter but the whole place is quiet, not a single rakghoul in sight.

She doesn’t like it.

The main gate’s latched but unsecured, swinging open once unfastened with a gentle push. She likes that even less.

“Come on.” She starts down the gravel path toward the low building in the far distance, beckoning to Kaliyo before she tosses her backup stealth device in her direction. “Something’s wrong. Watch my six.”

They flicker into invisibility together as Kaliyo draws her pistol and falls back into position. Further down the road there are more signs of life, feeding troughs (empty) and water troughs (full) and a smaller structure, full of-

Oh, stars.

A dozen cages line either side of the building, each holding a single rakghoul- still alive, all of them, but starved-looking and avidly sniffing at the air in their direction when they peer through the doorway.

Kaliyo wrinkles her nose. “They haven’t been fed in a week, I bet. That’s not like the old man at all.”

“Let’s keep going. If Lokin’s skipped out, we’ll have to figure out what to do with them-” please let him still be here; the creatures are pathetic, practically tame despite their hunger, and she really, really doesn’t want to have to shoot them but there are too many to transport safely- “but we still need to check the main complex.”

There are cameras in the trees, at least, when they close within a few hundred meters of the house, and three trip wires running at angles across the entryway; she disables them all and scans the intercom carefully before she presses the button.

No answer.

A minute later she’s got the locks cracked and the door swinging open and something’s charging at them in the dim light of the front room, panting, and she raises her blade and-

“Hey, Scritchy!” Kaliyo’s flat on her back, tackled by a remarkably happy-appearing rakghoul- she’d swear it’s smiling, assuming rakghouls actually smile. That is Scritchy, when she looks closer. Doctor Lokin must still be here. Sentiment aside, Scritchy was his gene stock, a necessity for most of his research. “I’m all out of womp rat bits, you stinky little shit. Get off.”

Scritchy does as he’s told, scampering off toward the back rooms of the building; she looks after the creature for a moment, then follows.

The back rooms are windowless, even darker than the front of the house with the lights out- a lab room, still and silent but for a few indicator lights flashing in the dark, a storage area and last, a bedroom, the air heavy and antiseptic-smelling.

She almost misses the shape on the floor beside the bed until she hears the shotgun cocking, both barrels pointed squarely at her belly.

“Don’t come any closer. I assure you,” Lokin says, voice barely a whisper, “I will shoot.”

“Five years, and that’s the sort of hello I get? And here I thought-” she squints down at him in the darkness until her eyes adjust, sheathing her knife, holding her hands up in a placating gesture; he looks-

Oh.

Oh. Kaliyo, drawn to the room by their voices and the sound of the gun, stops short in the doorway, one hand over her mouth. At her heels, the rakghoul whines.

“Cipher.” He can barely hold the gun steady, and she reaches out to take it before it slips from his shaking hands. “Cipher. They told me you’d- they told me-”

“You know me better than that.” Crouching, she loops her arms beneath his even as he tries to push her away and he’s skin and bones beneath her hands. “I’m not so easy to kill. Come on. Let’s get you off the ground.”

Lokin shakes his head. “Use your eyes, my girl. If I could walk, do you think I’d be sitting down here?”

“I thought we’d start with moving you up to bed,” she says, lifting him, “and negotiate onward from there. Unless you’d rather stay on the floor.”

His laugh’s half-wheeze and half-howl. “Stubborn. Always stubborn.”

“Always.”

***

Up next: Chapter Twenty-Six: In The Blood. Hunting for a cure, an explanation owed, and two new leads.

#equivalent exchange #inyri writes #cipher nine/theron shan #nine #imperial agent #swtor fanfiction

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