#caution my nana shirt

[lostintransist]

Seamstress | Part 7

Check out part 1 here.

CW: Momma drama. If you have a bad mom relationship like I do please read with caution. Also John comes home a bit broken. He gets better but not in this part.

John appears behind you as you are stepping into your shop. When his hand pushes the door open wider from behind you startle.

“Jesus fuck me!” You jump and spin, eyes wide and chest heaving as you confirm who stood behind you.

The slightly worried look on John’s face tells you he didn’t mean to startle you.

“Sorry dove thought you heard me.”

“Apparently my thoughts were too loud,” sheepishly you push the door shut behind him and begin to flick on lights.

Waiting for you at the counter with John is your jewelry box. It looks better than before if that is possible.

“I didn’t stain it,” John runs a finger down the side and you wish that digit dragged down your side instead.

Fuck, bitch you can’t be this horny yet, he just arrived. Apparently, the earth-shattering orgasm from your vibrator last night with the taste of him on your lips wasn’t enough. When did you get so greedy?

“Why not?” You ask as you fold your arms, not one hundred percent sure your bra would be able to trap your steel-tipped nipples.

Glancing from the box to John you see a soft smile. When he looks up at you it grows.

“I noticed how much you seemed to like the grain of the wood and seemed sad at the idea of it being covered up. A few coats of clear lacquer to protect it and it was done.”

“I love it. I’m so glad you chose lacquer. I would have been happy with any choice you made but this? It’s wonderful.” Leaving the box at the counter you waved John to follow you.

“I made you something as well.” Putting a hand on the nob of the door to the back room you spun. “I know it’s not really a problem, but you have complained about going into what you call “power meetings” with only your slacks or your fancy uniforms so I made you something that should hold up against scrutiny.”

John’s arms are folded, head tilted ever so slightly to watch you with the smile tucked under his mustache.

Taking a deep breath you twist the handle and step back into the room. You hung the suit on the wall directly in front of the door so you could watch his face as he saw it. You had paid a pretty penny for the fabric, thread, and buttons. They all came together so seamlessly that even your friend who was a tailor wouldn’t have been able to know a suitmaker hadn’t put it together unless he started to pull it apart at the seams. You had also purchased the silk for his shirt and made that by hand as well.

The smile falls from his face as he steps up to the suit and runs a hand lightly over it.

“Holy fuck.”

Glancing from side to side you bite your lip.

“So what do you think?”

When he turns you know why people like blue eyes so much. John’s blue eyes are enchanting with the tears rimming his lashes. They remind you of the ocean in the photos you’ve seen of tropical places.

“I can’t think of a gift that has ever meant more to me,” he chokes out around the tears in his throat.

“Do you want to try it on?” You suggest, heart fluttering in your chest.

“I want-”

His desires were cut off by the sound of the bell.

Turning you call out.

“Sorry, we are closed today,” when you catch sight of your mom.

The warmth that had settled over you like sunlight as spring breaks chilled to the harshest of winter breezes. Shutting the door to the back room, and your joy from your sorrow you face your mother.

“You didn’t come to Christmas,” she starts.

“I told Pop I would be going to Nana’s this year.”

“You’re still mad at me,” she pouts with her eyebrows.

Your mother had skills in expressing herself without making a scene about it.

“I am not mad, I’m done.”

Your mother stepped up to the counter, slowly opening each drawer of your gift. Snatching it off the counter you placed it on your working desk next to your sewing machine.

“What does being done have to do with not coming to Christmas?”

She’s pulling that mom tone again, trying to force you into a child role whether she knows it or not.

“I do not enjoy the way I feel while spending time with you. I do not like the comments you make or the fact that even when my brother is being rude I am still in the wrong. And I am done putting myself in situations to be hurt because you happened to get knocked up and produce me.”

She had told you once that you were a birth control failure baby. She had been drinking, you had been ten.

“I did not happen to get knocked up,” she sputtered.

Taking a deep breath you point your eyes at the ceiling and pray for patience.

“That is not the point of this conversation and I apologize for bringing it up. What I am saying is that I won’t be spending more time with you until we can go to family therapy. I’ve told this to Pop several times. I will send you a few options between us and will set up the appointment as well.”

“But I am your mother!” She is getting shrill, a sure sign she is losing control of the conversation in her mind.

“And I am grown. Now I have a private appointment I need to get back to.”

“Is this because of the comment about no one paying to see you naked? I’m sorry that you were offended by what I said.”

Your jaw works as your fingers curl into talons and your shoulders stiffen.

“I am not having that discussion here and now. Pick a therapist from the list I send you or leave me alone.”

Mom looks shocked, scared even, at the tone you use. She turns leaving in a huff and you open the door to the back to see John, shirt unbuttoned and eyes blown wide as if someone dosed him with drugs.

“That’s an option? I can pay to see you naked? Is a hundred enough?”

“A hundred?” You ask, confused but slightly hurt that he thought you were so cheap.

“No? Okay, a hundred and fifty thousand?” He looks desperate and hopeful and lost and like he might combust all at once.

You choke on your spit. Did that man just offer a hundred and fifty thousand dollar bucks to see you naked!?

All it would have taken is a glass of wine, a smokey look, and an invitation to bed and your clothes would have disappeared from your body like they never existed. Like damn you had high self-confidence, forged out of hate comments online and in real life, but you weren’t worth that much. Maybe John did like you like you liked him?

He stepped forward, mouth opening to form words when his phone went off. The instant change told you it was work.

“Dammit all to hell and may it never return,” he snatched up his pants from the cot and answered the phone as he moved it to his ear, snarling. “What?”

You watched as the soldier overtook the man. His back straightened as he tucked the phone between his shoulder and his ear beginning to work at the buttons at his wrists. Stepping into his space you took over the task freeing him faster than he would have managed. Helping him out of the shirt you fold it over one arm, watching as he disappears below his shirt to reappear through the head hole. You don’t offer to help him remove the pants but take them when offered without comment.

John doesn’t spare you a glance as he pulls his cargo pants up, sheathing the deliciously thick thighs he hides. When he sits to tie his boots you toss the clothes from your arms to the cot and kneel to take over that task for him. Tying them tight you stand and offer him a hand. He takes it, holding on as he stands.

Still on the phone he pulls your knuckles to his lips and turns the phone away from his mouth.

“When I get back, we are talking about this.”

It’s all you can do to nod before he dons his coat and slips into the precipitation of January.

🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡

The last of the snowdrops are blooming when John makes it back home. Between the knocks at the front door and the vibrating of your phone from under your pillow, you wake enough to stumble to the front door. The door opens fully before your eyes do.

John looks haggard, as if he aged ten years in the three months he was gone. A full beard had grown in, the ends ragged and uneven. His eyes flick over you. No expression crosses his face.

“John? You’re home,” the sigh in your last word pulls him through the door and into your arms.

It’s too late for your mind to come up with reasons why dragging him into your room after locking the front door would be a bad idea. Stripping him of his boots and his pants you invite him to lay under the blankets with you by laying them atop him and letting him settle into the mattress. Crossing around the bed you join him between the sheets. Laying on your side you stare at him.

Something about him felt broken and you didn’t dare hold him and make it worse.

“What can I do John?” You ask the darkness between you.

The words settle on him like the ice blown around in the wind of the gulag.

“Tell me what happened while I was gone. I don’t feel real.”

You scoot closer to him in the bed, less than a handswidth between you.

“I brought your suit home. I missed you a few weeks after you left and had nothing but the photo from the party and your gift. My mom started going to individual therapy. We tried a couple of family sessions but the therapist recommended that she do some personal work before we attempt to do much more work on fixing our relationship. My brother called me on my birthday, which was unexpected. I bet my po-”

“I missed your birthday?” John’s broken whisper cut you off.

“Yeah,” you reach out and touch his pinky. He flinches so you shift your hand back, but before it can go too far his hand chases you locking your fingers together.

“When is your birthday?”

“Valentine’s Day.”

“You must hate that.”

The accurate observation surprises you. You’ve talked with other people who have birthdays on holidays, most Christmas and New Year’s babies hate it, birthdays on big celebration days that aren’t the big big ones tend to go either way but for you, it always felt required to have a date on your birthday. Were you out because your date wanted to celebrate you or show off for the table around you?

“I do,” you let out a small chuckle. “My brother was born on May Day, he doesn’t seem to mind it. When is your birthday John?”

“July second.” He pulls in a deep breath, “Will you hold me?”

Small and scared his voice pierces into your chest.

“However you want to be held,” you answer in earnest.

“Lay back?”

You adjust to settle on your back, fixing the pillow below your head. John follows you, as cautious as an alley cat. Once his head is resting against your chest, chin tipped between your breasts you curl your arm around his shoulder next to your ribs and rest your hand on his back. The shuddering breaths that start from him prompt you to keep telling him about what happened while he was away.

“Did you know your muppets came to visit me? They all brought in their own fixes and asked to use your cot. Every one of them woke looking like they had no clue where they were and agreed that they understood why you kept coming back for naps.”

You talk until you drift into sleep, but your dreams are full of stories so maybe you talk to John until you wake.

Part 7 | Part 8

Seamstress Masterlist | Masterlist

[byuntrash101]

PARAPHILIA - Part 7

Pairing: Dom!Baekhyun x You; Boss!Baekhyun x You; CEO!Baekhyun x You

Genre: smutttttt

Tags: cuckolding, cheating, NTR, cum play, dirty talk, name calling (light), edging, oral (f)

Raiting: +18

Word count: 3.9k

Summary: When you are desperate for money you have no choice but to seek the help of Byun Baekhyun: your husband's rich, powerful and wicked boss.

A/N: This is the only part where OC and Baek are not a couple but keep reading it might even be better hehe. Guys this one is one of my faves of this whole series so I hope you like it toooo~ 😇😇 -Cat 😼

Tag list:  @lovebuginlove @calamell @bobohumyonlyboo @smolbeanmika @making-me-blush @wooya1224 @yixing-jaehyun @f4ncyvelvet @lalalala-lav @deligxt @xofanfics @byunsugar @dixnysustae @to-all-the-stories-i-love @artisticcgroove @myexoobsession @geniusloey @blahblahblah-boo @nana-banana @mingiandbaconjam @chanyeolscoon

Tell me if you want to be added/removed

PARAPHILIA masterlist | General masterlist

Gif credit: thristyforbaek

Paraphilia #7: Troilism, Observing one's partner engaged in sexual activities with another person

T H E A L P H A M A L E

"Come on Seokjong, we're going to be late!" you tell your husband as you precede him on the pathway towards the big mansion. Your husband pants behind you.

"I know honey but... slow down a bit, will ya?" He puffs holding his side, difficulty going up the stairs. Your husband was never one to be really fit. He was rather short, not even taller than you and also a little chubby. People often told you that you two were not a good match. Telling you how much more good looking you were compared to him. Often you had to turn down the advances of men that thought themselves to be better than Seokjong but the truth was that you loved him. You loved him exactly the way that he was. Happily married for 4 years now.

Well... That was true up until recently. Even though you try to convince yourself otherwise. Your feelings are... changing.

You ring the doorbell in front of the enormous door of the even more gigantic mansion. While your husband catches up to you.

"Please enter" the distinguished butler says. "Please get seated. Mr Byun will receive you shortly" he points towards comfortable couches placed in the entrance. You look around the now familiar place. The floor is made of black marble tiles, the walls have an elegant white wallpaper with exquisite details. The entrance is very big, so big a renaissance style statue of a woman sits in the middle, while a huge staircase is right in front you.

You know the entrance very well but not the rest of the house because apart from the hall and another room you never visited it. Even though it was your 10th visit. Only two more to go...

After a while the butler came back and signaled you to both go upstairs. You politely nodded and went on your way. You knew exactly where to go...

Last room on your right... Mr Byun's office.

"Enter!" the low voice commanded from behind the door. You pushed in the door, your heart beating loudly.

The first thing you notice is the atmosphere. The big windows that accompanied the tall walls and the high ceilings are covered by curtains. The only light source is the desk lamp placed on the elegant dark wood desk that sits in the middle of the big office. The room is grand, the atmosphere very intimate.

Mr. Byun was standing there, slightly leaning back on his desk, shuffling through some paperwork, absentmindedly playing with the collar of his white shirt.

He wore a really expensive suit, very professional looking. Navy blue with discreet golden yellow accents and of course a thin white shirt that was perfectly hugging his frame. Which made your heart stomp even harder.

Mr. Byun was exactly what every woman would desire. He was handsome, had beautiful shiny chestnut hair. A body shape to die for with broad shoulders, a narrow waist and long legs. Gorgeous smooth skin, the most charming and seductive smile and of course... he was powerful.

Everything about him was, this mansion, the sports cars he drove, the way he dressed, the way he walked and even... The way he looked at you. Like right now.

He lifted his eyes from the paper, when they landed on you he took his time fully appreciating the view. He started with your shoes. You were wearing the sleek black shiny high heeled pumps he had requested for today. Then his eyes went up your legs to the slit of the red bodycon dress you paired with the shoes then to your breasts where his eyes lingered for a bit then to your collarbones then your neck then your plump red lips then finally your eyes.

Definitely you were not growing accustomed to the way he looked at you.

Seokjong also came in panting and profusely sweating. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his forehead. You rolled your eyes at him. You felt bad for that but at the same time... How could you not be mad at him? He was the reason why you were here in the first place.

Seokjong had an addiction. An addiction to gambling. For the past couple of years it has gotten worse, to a point where Seokjong lost 1 million dollars to the mob. It was a colossal amount of money that needed to be paid back right away. So of course you took two other jobs and also borrowed money from your parents but you barely could gather 80 000 dollars. It calmed down the mob for a while but after a time they started to threaten your family and loved ones.

So Seokjong turned to his boss: Byun Baekhyun. He had worked for him all his life and even for his father before he took over the company. So you both went to see him on the top floor of the big company building. Your husband got on his knees and begged him to lend him the money. He told him that he would work his whole life for it. He offered to put Mr. Byun on his will, he even offered him his parent’s farm, which was a ridiculous offer, and he knew it but he just had to take the chance in order to save your marriage, your family and even your life.

But Mr. Byun laughed at his face.

"Look at me... Look at this office. Does it look like there is anything in the world that I can't afford but you... somehow can?" his voice sounded so cold at the time.

"N-no..." Seojong said, lowering his eyes.

You remember how Mr. Byun leaned over your husband still flat on the ground and said:

"Offer me something that's unique, that only you have. Something that money can't buy and I might consider it..." with that his eyes turned to you and he looked at you for the first time like he did moments ago.

You remember how the shivers ran down your spine when his lips curled in a carnivorous smirk, how lust gradually clouded his eyes.

That time, for the first time. You let another man touch you, feel you, and look at you in places that were before only for Seokjong. Only for your husband.

That time, for the first time, at the top floor of the big highrise. You let Mr Byun Baekhyun have his way with you.

That's how you both agreed to let Mr Byun fuck you in front of your husband every month for a whole year in exchange of clearing Seokjong's depts with the mafia.

That was what you were now: Mr. Byun Baekhyun's whore.

"The door, Seokjong" Baekhyun commanded which brought you back to the present moment.

Slowly he walked up to you... Gradually you felt heat washing over you. You didn't want to admit it but there was a moment in time where you started to anticipate every time you had to come into this mansion. Of course you never told anybody, not even yourself.

Baekhyun walked behind you and rested his chin on your shoulder. You felt his warm breath brush on your ear and his body press against your back. His fingers brushed up your arm. From your wrist to your shoulder, sending goosebumps all over your body.

Already you felt a tingle build in your core. Because Baekhyun didn't even have to try to get you started. His aura and the simplest, littlest touches were well enough. But the worst part was that he wasn't content with that. Everytime he made sure to drive you crazy with desire, pushing all the right buttons to the point where you were the one begging for him.

Without even a word he slipped one of the spaghetti straps of your dress off your shoulder and started to nibble at your neck and earlobe. You knew your husband was right behind you, watching your every move so you tried your hardest not to make any noise as he planted blue and purple love bites all over you. He smirked when he noticed you were holding yourself back. Because he loved when you resisted him. The more you resisted the more gratifying it was when you finally gave in. And he knew you would... eventually you will give up yourself to him, again.

"Seokjong come here" he commanded while stepping in front of you and standing at a little distance, to be able to fully see you. Your husband shuffled to his side.

"Yes Mr Byun?" he asked looking up at him as he was a lot shorter.

"Strip her for me" he said motioning to you with his chin.

"Yes sir" Seokjong responded. He came to you and slipped off the other strap. Then with caution he slowly pulled on the thin red fabric and rolled the bodycon dress off you. First, your breasts popped out since Mr. Byun specially requested you to not wear a bra. It made him smile and lick his lips when he noticed how hard your nipples already were. Because even though you're trying to resist, your body speaks the truth.

Slowly but surely the dress was completely off you. Leaving you close to naked in your red lace thong and your shiny black pumps.

Baekhyun stayed silent for a minute while he walked around you. Admiring your breasts, your beautiful legs in the shoes he chose and even your perky ass in the minimalistic red thong.

He licked his lips again. Then walked in front of you. He slowly closed in the distance between the both of you until you felt his warm breath tickle your cheeks, his broad torso pressed against your naked chest and his bulge against your stomach. You held in your breath trying to contain the thumping of your heart.

"Seokjong come here" your husband shuffled to him. Baekhyun placed a hand on his shoulder. "There... stand... right there" he said as he placed him exactly facing the both of you only a few centimeters away.

"Pay attention" he told Seokjong, winking at him and playfully padding his shoulder.

"Yes sir" your husband answered.

"Now baby" Baekhyun brought back his attention to you. "Stick your tongue out for me"

Hesitant you slowly opened your mouth to stick out your tongue. Baekhyun glances again at Seokjong, making sure he's watching carefully. Then approaches his face to yours. Slowly he sucked on the tip of your tongue then he pushed his soft lips against yours. Embarking you on a hot kiss. His tongue swirled inside your mouth and as heat started to wash over your body you couldn't help but to look at Seokjong. He didn't lift an eyelash, he was petrified. Baekhyun deepened the kiss. His hand went up your hair, tangling his fingers in it, while the other slipped to your lower back where he pulled lightly on the waistband of the thong to let it slap against your skin. Gradually you felt his bulge harden against your stomach which made the tingly feeling even stronger.

He broke the kiss to let you catch your breath and looked at you with a satisfied smile. Stafisified because you couldn't hide anymore. Your eyes were begging him to continue as your body was too... Baekhyun felt that.

"Seokjong" Baekhyun called your husband, before sitting you on the desk and sliding off the red thong, passing it over your heels. "Look, that is what a simple kiss with me does to your wife" he said holding the little fabric in front of your husband face. You felt embarrassment creep up inside you.

The thong was drenched with juices, and you hated that. You hated how this was the truth. Your body was betraying you, craving more of his touches, longing for the moment he was going to be inside you.

Seokjong looked at the shameful result of your arousal and simply nodded.

"Lick it." Baekhyun commanded, smirking. "Taste your beloved wife's desire for my cock"

You whipped your head in the direction of your husband. He, too, looked at you before slowly bringing the red piece of fabric to his face and licking the wet spot. He closed his eyes, his eyebrows creased.

"How is it?" Baekhyun asked.

"Delicious, sir" Seokjong answered, opening his eyes. Baekhyun smirked before turning his attention to you again.

"I want to try it too" he said before crouching down and bringing his face close to your heat. You felt embarrassed. But at the same time you didn't move a muscle because you couldn't wait anymore for him to finally touch you there.

You immediately let your head fall back when you feel his warm and wet tongue on your slit. Slowly going up to your needy clit. A small whimper escapes your lips which makes Baekhyung smile against your folds. His skilled tongue paired with the teasing from earlier makes the knot in your stomach tighten. Really quickly, you feel the pleasure rising uncontrollably. But as soon as Baekhyung feels you twitch under his tongue he slows down to an unbearable pace.

You can't help but whimper desperately. He smirks again and picks up the pace, circling your swollen bud with his tongue.

This time shameless moans escape your lips, the pleasure is just too much and you can't help it. You're so close, you want to cum. But again, he slows down. You look down at him with pleading eyes but don't dare to actually say the words. He smirks at you; he loves to see you struggle like this. He loves the frustration in your eyes.

He starts up again. He gives you just enough to be close to the edge but not enough to actually go over. He keeps you there, in the middle, playing with you, torturing you. And you just can't take it anymore.

"Please" you whisper. He parts his lips from yours.

"Please what?" he says smirking, looking up at you. He brings his hand to your heat and draws small circles on your very sensitive clit. You gasp, biting your lip.

"Please let me cum" you beg in a breath, your head is dizzy, you have trouble keeping your balance on your high heels and you hold on for dear like to the edge of the desk.

"You want to cum baby?" you nod.

"Seokjong come here" your husband comes to stand directly behind him, facing you. "Watch how your wife cums for me".

With that Baekhyun's fingers slip inside you and curl up immediately spotting your good spot. You can't help but to moan loudly. His lips go back to your clit where his tongue continues to tease you further. Only this time, it's to finish the job.

Mercilessly his fingers and tongue attack you, to transform you into a moaning mess and as you feel the knot threatening to come undone you look up at your husband. You feel immense shame to let him see your delighted, sinful expressions from another man's touch. You're ashamed of letting him hear you moan for Baekhyun like that but at the same time... It turns you on so much. When you're met with the disappointed eyes of your husband you are finally able to cum. Your walls tighten around Baekhyun's fingers as you twitch uncontrollably under his tongue. Your juices rush out of you completely soaking the wooden floor. Completely out of breath you squirt all over, a blissful and lingering moan rolling off your tongue.

Baekhyun pulls out his drenched fingers out of you and stands back up before turning to Seokjong.

"Did she ever squirt like this for you?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"No, sir." Seokjong said, lowering his eyes. Baekhyun smirked, satisfied.

You tried catching your breath as you held yourself up on the desk with difficulty.

"Seokjong sit there" Baekhyun said as he pointed to the floor in front of the desk. Seokjong complied and sat his back straight against the darkwood and waited, his eyes locked on the floor.

Baekhyun started to undress himself. One by one he undid the button of his white shirt and took it off. Revealing his perfectly sculpted body. His chest was glistening from lightly sweating. His cologne gracefully floated to your nose. He smelled exactly like he looked: very expensive and manly.

He then took his pants off and kissed you again. Forcing your mouth open with his tongue as he pushed his hips on your stomach. You couldn't wait for him to be inside you.

"Bend over the desk baby" he said softly in your ear.

You turned around and bent over. You were positioned in a way that your husband's face was directly underneath your crotch. This way he had a front row seat on your adulterous sex with his boss.

Baekhyun came over and rubbed his hot tip against your drenched heat. He brushed it against your swollen clit before slowly slipping inside you. You moaned shamelessly at the delicious full sensation he was making you feel. There was no comparison. He was so much bigger than Seokjong.

"Seokjong, did you see how easily I slipped inside her? It's almost like she was made for me" Baekhyun said in a groan. Fully indulging himself in the tightness and warmness of your naughty little pussy.

Seokjong didn't even reply, instead he started to palm himself through his pants. He hated himself for it but he couldn't stop himself from getting aroused. He saw expressions you never made for him. He heard moans he never heard from you. All of that was, inevitably, turning him on.

Baekhyun started to slowly thrust himself in and out of you. You moan for him like he is the only one in the room. At this stage, you don't care one bit about your husband anymore. The only thing that you want is Baekhyun's fat cock rearranging your guts to fit him.

"Please faster" you plead. Baekhyun smirks but decides to grant your wish and goes faster and even deeper inside you. You throw your head back as he tightens his grip on your waist. Making your breast jump and the desk shake to the sound of your skin clashing.

He feels so good inside you, no one can ever fill you up like he does with his huge cock. You moan for him, forgetting about your husband right underneath you. You want Baekhyun to hear how good he makes you feel.

"Does it feel good baby"? he groans in your ear.

"Yes!" you reply without hesitation, his low voice sending goosebumps on your skin.

"Does my cock feel good?"

"Yes! Aaah.. So good!!" you close your eyes as you feel the knot tightening again.

"Yes you're a dirty little slut of a wife" he whispers in your ear.

Seokjong palms himself harder, rubbing circles on his aching cock. Drunk on the sounds that you make only for Baekhyun. Droplets of your juices crash on his cheeks and bottom lip which he sucks off hurriedly. It's almost like you never tasted so good.

Baekhyun picks up the pace again when he feels your pussy tightly gripping on his cock.

"Moan for me slut" he says through gritted teeth.

"Aaaah Baekhyun I'm cumming" you moan shamelessly. But Baekhyun once again slows down, a whimper escapes your lips as you feel your orgasm getting away.

"I'll let you cum if you tell Seokjong how much of a disgraceful wife you are" he says in a low voice, groaning in your ear as he fucks you at an agonizingly slow pace. You whimper, not wanting to go that far.

Seokjong doesn't move anymore, he holds his breath, somehow... he wants to hear that...

Baekhyun violently thrusts inside you to convince you. You scream out a moan to the immensely pleasurable but ephemeral sensation. With a trembling lip you start.

"Seokjong I'm sorry to be such an undeserving wife" you start, Baekhyung goes ever so slightly faster inside you.

"Aaaah... I let Baekhyun fuck me and... Aaaah.. I love it"

Seokjong rubs himself through his pants once again.

"But his dick is so much better than yours... Aaaaah"

"Good girl continue" Baekhyun encourages you by fucking you harder.

"There's no way... Aaaah... I can go back to your tiny penis anymore... Aaaah. After getting a taste of Baekhyun's huge cock"

Baekhyun goes even deeper and faster. The knot is threatening to come undone at anytime.

"Baekhyun's cock is... aaaah... aah... So good I only want him to make me cum. Only he knows how to manhandle me."

Seokjong furiously palms himself underneath you, his face towards your heat, where he carefully watches his beloved wife's pussy get rammed by his boss.

"Good girl." Baekhyun praises as he doesn't stop fucking you mercilessly. Feeling your pussy twitch around his cock. "Now cum for me baby. Cum on this dick baby" he commands.

You give yourself in to the pleasure Baekhyun makes you feel as your tongue loosely hangs out of your mouth and your eyes roll back. You can't control anything anymore. You're cumming harder than ever.

"Seokjong, listen to me moan while I cum on Baekhyun's fat cock" you scream as you finally cross the edge.

Your pussy pulsing around Baekhyun's huge cock inside you. You scream Baekhyun's name one last time as your juices gush out of you again. So much liquid spurts out of your pussy, to completely soak your husband that is still sitting right underneath you.

Seokjong releases himself in his pants. A stain of cum appears on his crotch through his pants as he opens his mouth wide to catch as much squirt as he can. He drinks your juices as his dick pulses under his hand.

Pleasure completely takes over your body, making your mind blank until the only thing you can ever remember it’s this incredible sensation of Baekhyun’s cock inside you.

You don't even have time to get down from your high that Baekhyun pulls on your hair to make you face him and kneel before him. He violently pumps his fist around his cock.

"I'm gonna cum in your mouth. Baby open wide" Without even a second thought you open your mouth and stick your tongue out more than happy to welcome his warm cum.

Finally Baekhyun shoots to the back of your throat and all over your face. You look delighted as so much thick cum coats your tongue and cheeks, the delicious bitter and manly taste spreads in your mouth and makes your head dizzy.

You fully savour his cum playing with it in your mouth before swallowing it all. Baekhyun looks at you with a satisfied smile. He taught you well. His eyes turn to your husband again.

"Now Kiss her. I want you to taste my cum in your beloved wife's mouth".

To Seokjong it's an unexpected miracle. He quickly scoots over to you and happily links your lips together. The bitter taste spreads to his mouth as he thoroughly licks and sucks your tongue, not forgetting one corner of your mouth.

Seokjong never told you either, but with time he also came to anticipate the visits to Mr Byun's house.

You both liked the thrill of doing something so bad, so wrong. But it felt so right and both of you were hooked.

Baekhyun smirked, a carnivorous smile plastered on his face. In the end, he both transformed you. He was proud of turning a happy couple into to two adulterous sex hungry freaks.

"See you next month"

PARAPHILIA masterlist | General masterlist

[blackcherrykiss]

BLOOD BOUNDARIES - Enhypen OT7 Fanfic (ch.7)

[CH.1] [CH.2] [CH.3] [CH.4] [CH.5] [CH.6] previous chapters

[CH.8.] next chapter (unavailable, check back or follow for updates!)

You fell into a distrustful panic that night now that knew the screams of the woods were also where Jungwon and his friends lived. You weren't sure if you should be scared for those group of boys or be scared of them. You'd be lying to yourself if you tried to believe it was only a coincidence the boys had a place in the forest of violent cries.

You questioned your sanity, were they murderers? Was that their dirty secret?

Your conclusions were endlessly dark, repeating themselves countlessly. You had never wanted to sleep away your thoughts more than ever. Eventually, you got exhausted from your thoughts. It was mentally draining to try and tear apart the possibilities of the situation, you didn't have enough evidence to be so sure. You lay in a cold sweat as you drifted off into a deep but horrible sleep.

You dreamt in full awareness. The boys with blood spilling down their hands and onto their swan white clothes. A red mess everywhere on the cream walls of an orphanage that overflowed with rays of a full moon. Although you were scared of what you were witnessing, you could not wake up even if your life depended on it. It seemed as if the dream had sped up your sleep as you woke in what felt like a few seconds. Calmly, you awoke in the misty autumn morning in a crushed up pile of blankets. You sit up to peel your wispy curtains away from the window to get a good look at the dark forest that steamed with a muddy blue fog. All of the memories of Jungwon yelling at you for just being near the woods flooded your brain as you stared. This time you were determined to search deep into that forest and get to the bottom of its mysteries as it called out to you.

"Y/N I think you're going to be late for your first class." Nana knocked before bursting into your room in full uniform, not a wrinkle on her shirt.

"Y-you're already ready? What time is it?!" You glanced back and forth between your pyjamas and uniform that draped over a random stool as you were too lazy to fold nicely the night before.

"We didn't want to wake you... So we went ahead thinking you'd come down eventually." She yanked you out of bed, gripping your forearms tightly before backing out the door, "Don't be late! We promised we'd keep out of detention this year!"

Within a blink of an eye, you slip into your uniform, slinking your arms through the holes of your blouse and adjusting your legs to be cover by your ashy plaid skirt. With your bag and binder in hand, you sprinted across your campus to the gymnasium where you found yourself arriving, everyone already in the proper athletic attire.

"You're late."  Your health teacher grit her teeth in visible disappointment. Your teacher knew how unlike you it was to be late as your classmate's eyes followed your every movement.

"P-pardon me." You clawed your fingers through your bedhead, speeding to the change room, nervous she'd assign you detention.

You let out the deep breath you were holding in as you got into the empty locker room, frustrated at yourself for waking up so late. You can't help but feel upset that you let your thoughts get the best of you and ruin your perfect attendance. Truly you were ashamed but began to see no point in continuing to rush the pace at which your day was running.

The locker room door opens and you see Kyungeun peep herself inside, "Y/N? You alright?"

You pull your boxy shirt flat down, zipping and tying every spot on your tracksuit jacket, "Yeah, sorry rough morning..."

"No worries, I just said that I had to go to the bathroom but I really just wanted to check on you." She had a motherly sound to her voice which comforted your bad start to the day. Perhaps she was in a good enough mood for you to ask her briefly about her relationship with Sunghoon.

"Kyungeun, I think I need to just clear the air... I saw you with Sunghoon in the library." You tilted your head in regret as to whether or not you were starting off the conversation in the right direction.

"Y-you saw us???" Her face drained to an unrealistic hue, "Lord... Sunghoon will kill me if he finds out you know."

"Stop! What do you mean? He'll kill you? Is it because I know that you two are dating?"

"NO! Nevermind then!" She cut you off right after the question mark in your voice. She looked rather relieved at your response which could only mean their relationship was much different than you had presumed. "I just can't tell you about our relationship I'm s-sorry it's between just us two."

"So then it's okay for him to flirt with my roommate?"

"No? Are you serious right now ?!" Kyungeun panicked.

"So you are dating?" You gave a smug smile.

"It's not that..." She was visibly frustrated not being able to describe herself in words, "I'll tell you this, I'm bound to him..." She ran her index finger along the reddened gash on her neck  He's blackmailing me."

"So you're like his pet?" You held in your laughter, you knew you should be more serious but you had no other way of trying to help Kyungeun express the gist of her relationship.

"I'll tell you another day...  Let's just go before the teacher gets mad at you for taking so long to change."

...

After your class full of advanced leg exercises and mediocrely fun games, you got halted by your gym teacher, "Y/N can we speak about how tardy you were today?"

You got fearful of her sentencing you detention, freezing up from your heel upwards, "I'm so sorry, I just had a lot going on last night..."

"Sweetie, I know this is your first late in my class but unfortunately the school does not tolerate tardiness in the way I believe it should be." She tapped her chin a few times, "I have no other choice but to send you to detention but it'll just be a half-hour at lunch." You felt better that it wasn't for a full hour or two after school but you were still dreading the idea.

"Can't you just let me off the hook? I promise it'll never happen again" You pleaded desperately.

"I'm afraid I cannot... If the other teachers or students knew you didn't get sent to detention I could get into trouble for giving you 'special treatment'. I know you didn't mean to love but I cannot afford to lose my job so I'll see you then." She patted one of your shoulders, giving it a little squeeze to cheer you up.

"I understand..." You nod with your head that already hung low.

"It's in the English room down the hall, there is usually only a few students there. Some familiar faces."

...

That rest of your morning would only pull through faster as you got some weird anxiety over walking into the detention room. You could not concentrate at all in the class you had before lunch. You felt as if you were too good for the detention group of kids, but here you were about to join those you criticized. Karma.

"Make sure to answer the questions 8-16 on page 300, you have the rest of the class to do so. Any questions?" Your physics teacher stood with his hands balled up behind his back.

Realizing you had no physics book in your bag after triple checking, you shot your arm up in distress, "ME! I forgot my textbook today... I was in a rush this morning." You faked a polite laugh with the expectation your teacher would have a spare.

"I'm afraid I don't have an extra, anyone willing to share?" The teacher lifted his head to scan the class.

"I could share." Jaeyun winked making your face recoil

"Perfect! You'll probably have to move your stuff to his seat then." Your teacher suggested.

With a thick coat of disappointment, you pulled a chair up to Jaeyun's desk to which he kneed you annoyingly.

Within just a few seconds of settling down, you complained "How the hell am I supposed to write? There is no space... Desks are made for ONE person."

"Okay then don't use my textbook and fall behind" He sneered.

"Wait wait, I just had the greatest idea Jaeyun." He gave you puppy eyes when you said his name, "What if you look for half the answers I do the other half then exchange?" You whispered so the teacher could hear.

"I can't trust you make good answers though..." He jokingly sighed.

"HEY! Okay or work together for every question to get it done twice as fast? Oh wait but then I'll be the one carrying the team... Bummer..." You stretched the corners of your mouth until your lips disappeared.

"I honestly don't feel like doing work so lose-lose." He pouted and rolled his eyes.

"Same... I can't even focus, I'm having a rough morning..." You openly admitted, "I got sent to detention for being late in my first class."

"Detention? Didn't think you were the type." Jaeyun had an unexpectedly sweet giggle which contrasted with his lower tone voice, "Heeseung and Sunghoon get sent often, surprised they aren't kicked out of the school."

"They get sent often?!" Your voice rose to which you quickly quieted down to avoid trouble, "Will I see them there?"

"Why? Looking forward to going now?" Jaeyun whispered with a grin, causing you to scoff.

"As if..." A sudden idea coming to mind, "Say Jaeyun... About the party... Heard you guys have a place in the woods...?" You became aware that you could pry some information out of him that would help you when searching the woods that night.

"Yeah, we do... We don't normally tell people about it." He said casually yet still with some sort of caution.

"So why tell us then?"

"Haven't had any visitors in a while..." Jaeyun toyed with his mechanical pencil, using the plastic part to trace around his lips, "Awfully interested aren't you?" He seemed to have caught on to your intentions, shifting the mood of the conversation around in a full 180.

Suddenly the dream you had earlier slipped into mind, causing you to sit in growing discomfort, "What do you want from my friends and I?"

"Nothing sweetheart... We're more interested in you than your dormmates. You look like someone we know." He laughed like a psycho and it creeped you out how the two of you were just poking lighthearted jokes to something much darker and mysterious, "I know you're afraid of us, you know far more than most girls." His voice dropped to a whisper as he watched the teacher behind you to make sure he didn't see the both of you slacking.

"Kyungeun knows your secrets too she said she'll tell me."

"She's acting like we don't know her secrets." Jaeyun closed his textbook, "Y/N just remember this, Kyungeun is half as bad as we are and half as pure as you are."

"Alright class, that's it for today's class. This textbook assignment won't be due until Friday have a good lunch." The teacher interrupted, causing your conversation with Jaeyun to end on a hanging note.

"Good luck with detention."Jaeyun hushed in your ear.

_______________

p.s, i changed the cover lol don’t make fun of my photoshop skills!

[collecting-stories]

Girlfriend at the Time - t. 02 - Sarah Cameron

Summary: You and Sarah spend some time together in Philly and both of you struggle with your feelings. 

7 Scenes from the Same Summer Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

♡it’s like I can’t get enough, got me interested, so invested.♡

“Come here,” Sarah waved her hand for you to come toward her. She was standing on the other side of the small seating area in the back of the bodega you’d stopped in for soda. She stood by a shelf of snacks, shaking her hips jokingly as you walked over toward her. It was nearing midnight and despite the alcohol that you had taken in at Woody’s you had managed to drive to South street and walk to the bodega.  

“What?” You manuvered around one of the tables, holding yourself steady when one of your heels threatened to give out. “I’m gonna kill myself, I should’ve brought different shoes.”

“Yeah but at least you’ll look hot when you die.”

“Good point,” you laughed, finally reaching her, grabbing the shelf next to her for support. “Okay...what?”

Sarah looked back toward the register to make sure the cashier wasn’t watching the two of you before she turned back, placing a hand on the back of your neck and pulling you in for a kiss. Your eyes went wide for a second before you closed them, kissing her back. You held onto her waist with your free hand, your fingers slipping beneath the mesh crop-top to brush along her skin.  

“I think you’re still drunk,” you teased when she pulled away.  

“Maybe a little,” she shrugged, “you look really pretty tonight.”

“Thank you, but let's get some food in you okay?” You took her hand in yours and walked to the counter to pay. You knew it was dangerous to play this game with her and you couldn’t deny that things had been different since North Carolina and Annie’s party.  

Despite Sarah’s claims that the two of you could go back to being just friends, and your agreement, it seemed almost impossible. You were sure that it was just because she was missing John B but Sarah had been increasingly affectionate with you. When you got to your house the previous night she’d even shrugged off sleeping in the same bed and you’d woken up to her cuddled up beside you.  

It was enough to have your head spinning and you tried to distract yourself from your feelings and her confusing behavior by allowing yourself to be roped into all her tourist ideas.  

✰

She had started first thing in the morning, leaning over you with her head on your arm and her arm around your waist, reading off a list she’d made on her phone of all the places she wanted to go in Philly.  

“...and the Rocky steps-” Sarah said, her lips brushing your arm. 

“Technically that’s the art museum.” You said, rolling over so that she was hovering over you. 

“Did Rocky run up the steps?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Then it’s the Rocky steps.” She replied. 

“Sure.”

“Look, I do a great impression,” she said, running over to your bedroom window and leaning out, “yo Adrian!”

“Shut up, you lunatic!” You laughed, grabbing her t-shirt to pull her back into the room, “and Adrian is supposed to be in the window...Rocky was on the street.”

“Whatever.”

“What else?” You asked, busying yourself with finding clothes to wear while Sarah stripped out of her sleep shirt to change. Whether she was actively thinking about it or not you didn’t want to be that friend that leered at her friends.  

“The Italian market, the love sign, we can get our picture taken, uh, shopping...duh. A good like bar or something, South street...and Geno’s.”

“No Geno’s.” You shook your head.  

“What?”  

“No Geno’s...that shits for tourists. I mean, if you’re gonna go Geno’s or Pat’s then it’s Pat’s but if you’re legit it’s Jim’s.” You replied, glancing over at her as she shimmed into a pair of short shorts.

“So particular.”  

“We don’t have to do all this in one day you know?”  

“Yeah I know.” Sarah replied, “I need coffee before anything.”

✰

You spun on your stool, angling away from the counter and the tray that was holding your cheesesteak, to watching Sarah as she pulled her hair up away from her face.  

You’d left the bodega with her hand still in yours, walking down passed a few tattoo parlors and small businesses to the corner where Jim’s sat. Unimposing. There was already a line out the door and you had stepped into line with Sarah as she let go of your hand to wrap her arm around your waist. She kissed your cheek and leaned her head on your shoulder.  

“Getting sleepy?” You whispered.

“A little, I think it’s those shots I did.”

“Probably,” you laughed. She’d taken a round of shots with a guy who had a few years on her and a lot more alcohol tolerance. He’d told her that her and her girlfriend were so cute and she only said thanks as she blew you a kiss over her shoulder.  

When you finally got around the line you ordered for both of you, half supporting Sarah through the line while she told you that she didn’t understand a word of what you’d just said. You held the tray and pulled her to a spot upstairs, sitting along the window. Not too many other people were eating in at this hour and you relished the opportunity to be somewhere less crowded.  

“What?” Sarah asked, looking over at you. The glitter highlight she was wearing caught the fluorescent light, giving off a glow that was completely unfair after the two of you had spent the previous few hours dancing and drinking at Woody’s. You were sure you looked close to horrendous but she still looked gorgeous.  

“I don’t know how you’re not exhausted.” You laughed, “I’m literally gonna fall off this stool and die on the floor.”

“I’m getting my second wind.”  

“That’s like your twelfth wind.” You replied, choosing not to mention the kiss in the bodega.  

✰

After the Italian market and coffee Sarah had convinced you to drive to parkway so she could jog up the museum steps. She was determined to live her Rocky dream apparently, one she’d only started having that morning, and you were being roped into it.  

“Okay, ready.” Sarah asked, looking over at you, biting her bottom lip as she smiled.

“Ready.” You nodded.  

Sarah clicked the play button on her spotify, the familiar sound of the Rocky theme song playing through the speakers as the two of you ran up the stairs of the art museum. You could hear her breathing as she took the stairs beside you, trying to keep the pace as you made it to the top. The moment she was on the top platform she heaved a breath, leaning her hands on her knees. You stood beside her, catching your breath and taking a sip from your water bottle.

“I told you it was gonna be intense.”  

“Oh my god...no wonder Rocky was so good. That was brutal.” Sarah replied, clicking off her phone and taking the water from you. “Alright, take my picture.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, take my picture, I have to immortalize this moment.” She posed like Rocky at the top of the stairs and you took her picture.  

“You know I totally would’ve loved Rocky even more if he looked less like Sylvester Stallone.” You mentioned, looking through your phone at her. Short shorts and crop top, she looked like the perfect summer fantasy and you couldn’t help wishing that she’d come up to Philly under different circumstances.  

“And more like me?” She asked, smiling at you.  

“Yeah,” you laughed.

“Let me see,” she leaned into your space to look at the picture, “here take a selfie.”

“I took like twelve earlier and that was just us buying cannoli.”  

“I need to commemorate this trip!” Sarah laughed, grabbing your phone to set up the selfie. She wanted a picture of everything the two of you did together. She had thought about posting some of the pictures that morning but decided against it.  

For once she really didn’t care if John B was thinking about her. If he was wondering what she was doing or upset that she hadn’t returned to the Outer Banks for summer like they had planned. This was better already and she’d only been here half a day with you. But she didn’t want to post and gloat, she just wanted to keep all the pictures to herself, to enjoy herself and the way she was feeling with you.

✰

“After this we should get cookies and then go home,” Sarah mentioned, taking a sip of her soda. She was only a quarter of the way into her cheesesteak and she was pretty sure it was single greatest thing she’d ever eaten.  

“I thought you were on your second wind?” You teased, turning in your stool again to knock your knee against hers. She smiled at the touch.  

“I think second wind me wants chocolate chip cookies and a good cuddle while we watch a movie.” She replied.  

When she’d looked across the bodega at you all she wanted to do was kiss you. So she had. And she let you play it off like she was just tipsy but she knew that wasn’t even the half of it. If you were confused about her signals she was confused about her feelings. She knew she still felt something for John B but she couldn’t deny that being just friends with you, after she had been given a taste of what being more than that could feel like, had her wishing she could just throw caution to the wind and tell you she wanted to be with you.  

-

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[itsthe-neo-zone]

Married To Mr Choi - TXT Series

Please read the Masterlist before continuing ahead with the chapter. (Check the warnings and read the interlude before reading the first chapter. Thank you)

Chapter 1: 

Every young girl dreams of her moment, the one where she drapes a sweet pearl gown over her figure and the sparkiest diamond headpiece over the crow of her head. Some even go as far as filling the grooms place with their ever-growing recent crush they have over the boy next door or their special friend in nursery.

Even I had those thoughts, me being the pride and joy of my family, the youngest girl -the only girl- in my house. The house of Tesoro, or Treasure in other words. Noble, famous, and extremely rich. Surely my moment in the snow gown and tiara would be the talk of the century? My marriage would be to the one I find, my soulmate, the true love and my prince that would save me from the towers I was locked in.

But as I stand here in front of my reflection, I didn’t feel any of the infatuations that I had as a young girl. No giddy or jittering feeling at the silky lace skin I wore over my own.

“What do you think of this one?”

“I don’t like it.”

A loud sigh sounded from behind me, she wasn’t even trying to hid it. The frustration dripping from between her teeth.

“I initiated the marriages for all 8 of your brothers and when I want to finally celebrate your coming of age you make my suffer through like this?”

“You didn’t even think about it sis.” A mutter came from the back. I wanted to turn and snap back at San but if it wasn’t for the overly extravagant and 8-pound heavy train splayed behind me. It blocked my movements if I wasn’t able to walk now how I was going to wear it on my freaking wedding day.

“Let’s see if we can try finding a middle ground for both the bride and her mother.” The assistant interrupted, feeling the tension thicken around the room.

She helped me down and as I pulled at the thick material against myself to avoid the troublesome look of tripping up. This whole ordeal was embarrassing, especially since I know this marriage wasn’t going to ever work out.

As I finished changing out of the dress and into the cotton robe that had chaffed my skin from the amount of dressing and undressing, I heard a light knock on my door.

“Come in.” I fixed and tugged at the robe covering myself thoroughly

“Are you feeling ok?” it was san, he pulled at the door and closed shut after he slipped inside. Locking it.

“No.”

“Why’s that.” He took a seat making himself comfortable on one of the many plush fuchsia armchairs scattered in the dressing lounge. “Is it the dresses? Or maybe mothers choice in compliments?”

He hummed in a sing song way, but I was no way in the mood to be teased and joked with. “I don’t call those compliments. She called me fat in one of the dresses and it wasn’t even me. It was the stupid cut of the dress.” My feet stomped a few times.

Smirking at the small pout that graced my lips, he played with a set of pearl beads that were hanging off the vanity. It was odd seeing my eldest brother in these types of surroundings. His work clothes didn’t match one bit. The gun strapped at his hips didn’t seem too friendly either.

It sacred most of the friendly and feminine-like workers and assistants in the bridal wear shop. But I was used to their outlandish and odd looks they wore. All part of their job, I guess.

“Just pick any goddamn dress and prepare yourself. Lets get this over with.” He stood up setting down the jewellery. “You know this is all for social reasons.”

“It’s unfair.” I stepped away turning my back. San could be volatile when he wants to be. Harsh and ruthless in his emotions, unlike Wooyoung.

“I know. But sometimes we have to do things we don’t like Mila. Deal with it.” He muttered; I could hear the gritting of his teeth beneath the sputtering of words.

“This is marriage. It isn’t a gathering I’m attending or befriending someone I hate. This can’t be undone.”

“So? You’re not marrying any random freak. This is the Choi family were talking about.” He thudded his steps to the door brushing slightly past me his boots hitting against the soft carpet mimicked the sound of muffled thunder.

“Mila, if you want peace of mind, you’ll marry him with no complaints, it’s whats best for the family.”  

‘its whats best for the family’

those words made my blood boil and my fists clench hard. Always those meaningless and hurtful words, so degrading and painful to my own thoughts and neglectful of my own desires.

I watched him push past the threshold of the doorway and push past the trembling assistant that was tugging at dresses double or triple her weight.

“I have a few more dresses I think you may like.”

“I don’t know about that.” Sighing I slip the robe off my body for the 60th time today.

“She actually picked a dress this time. Yes. Finally. So love are you going to be here for the ceremony.” The soft voice spoken mutedly and with a tone of contentment came from the main salon.

“Oh that’s good news. The sooner the better.” I heard mothers words muttered from the hallway. Gracing down the corridors I didn’t ever mean to listen in, but her voice and words were intriguing. It seems like she was talking to my father.

I rushed past the main doors making a beeline to my room. There on one of the soft ottomans sat Wooyoung.

“What are you doing here brother?” pushing the door shut with a soft click I turn to face him. He was adorned in his work clothes.

A dark shirt with his gun holster peaking out from underneath the leather jacket. His hair was ruffled up and he was wearing tight slacks with black wing tip oxfords. He had his handgun between his fingers swinging it round. I subconsciously hoped he had his safeguard on.  

“This is a pleasant surprise.” I sat at the edge of my bed lips in a tight line as I pushed a smile.

“Are you not happy with this wedding?” I let out an exasperated sigh. Not this again. Wooyoung doesn’t live with us. He’s married and he has his own estate a distance from here, this is the first time he’s heard of these complaints and I have a hint on who had blurted. His name begins with S.

“Did San tell you?”

“You know he cant keep his lips shut when he’s with me.” I nod glancing downwards.

“Mila, you know I picked this marriage for you. I wouldn’t choose someone that I know can’t look after you.”

“I know but I would have been happier to choose myself.” I played with the ends of my hair, twirling the soft strands around the tip of my finger.

“Marrying that Christopher guy would have been good for you but not for the family.” His eyes wavered slightly. He didn’t catch my lingering gaze. “You’re being self-centred when thinking about this.”

“And shouldn’t I be? It’s my marriage.”

“Christopher bang isn’t part pf this underground work his family have no presence in the mafia realm, so he won’t be of use to you?”

“To us, you’re a part of this.” The grunt leaving his mouth as he stood up warned me, I was entering dangerous territory.

“Really wish I wasn’t.”

The black wavy hair obscured his vison from me rendering me completely confused. He didn’t show much of his emotions, ever since we were young, I could only see them from his eyes. He wasn’t going to like those words no matter what I said.

“The truth is, you’re marrying from the choi family and that’s that.” His voice left no room for discussion. An exhale left my lips as I watched him leave. Judging from the direction his footsteps took he was going towards the salon.

 I had the afternoon to myself later after that heated discussion and the morning excursion. So I decided to take a bath and meet up with a friend, Afterall the afternoon was one of the last I would spend with a close friend as unmarried young ladies.

“So?” Yuna glanced to me before reaching out for her smoothie blend, we had both ordered, “You’re really marrying him?”

I wasn’t looking at her, my head was filled with many worries and they kept gnawing, taking as much of a chunk of my brain as they wanted. “Yeah I guess I am, marrying a Him.” I chewed at the ends of my lips slightly.

It feels different when I say it out loud, it feels real, it’s really happening having my lips voice what was coming gave me that reality check. I didn’t have any control over what was happening, and it was all slipping out of my hands like sand, I couldn’t stop a thing or grasp it.

Its sacred me.

“I heard one of the Choi brothers is married already.” Yuna spoke with caution. “You should double check about that, y’know?” taking another sip she set the glass down before moving closer, I could see her doe eyes from my peripheral.

“I’m not surprised. Anyone working in their fields has to hasten and rush in their life, everyday could be their last day living.” I mutter.

Bringing my glance from the fields of greenery in the estate towards the summer blend of fruit before me, I spare her a quick look before realizing she’s staring expectantly at me.

“What?”

“Nothing, it feels weird.”

I huff, I wasn’t expecting that.

“You shouldn’t think too much, its tiresome for you…” smirking I lift the glass mimicking her movements earlier.

“It’s just, we’ve grown up together Mila, we know almost everything there is to know about each other,” she shifted a little, her blond hair strands falling to shield her face. “I just- its…I never imagined this is how out would go for you.”

“Neither did I, what can we do though?”

A short pause was left between the two of us and as I was relishing in the moment of peace it took me back to when I was a child, not too long ago.

I loved the freedom and the happiness me and my brothers shared. Our innocence the purity on our fingertips.

“Run away?” Yuna offered but as she did, she let a giggle out smiling happily back at me. Yuna seemed so happy. I wish I could be the same. I was so envious of her.

“I wish I could do that Nana.”

I really did, now that we’ve all grown up it seems that the responsibilities piled up and increased.

The pressure toiled above our heads high and the hands my brothers had once filled with purity were covered in drenching blood. The guilt was intolerable they had learnt over the years to let go of it. Some - San - threw away all their emotions to give themselves peace of mind.

When I was a young girl, dreams of wearing a flowing white dress and holding hands with my prince was all I ever dreamed about.

I was infatuated and obsessed with the thought. We all are as young girls…

The idea was all that pushed me, I was oblivious to the happiness that was being sucked and stolen from us. Till this day I blame myself for my brothers situation. It hurts to see the empty voids of stone cold and ice grey look at me. It’s like they’re taunting me. This is what you’ve done. It’s all your fault.

Everything came at a price, this lavish lifestyle and our family legacy, I lost my family for all this and I’m about to lose my future too. 

That night, the insomnia came back to haunt me, i didn't get a seconds rest.

 ~~~

My fingers were getting tired, but I pushed through, I hadn’t reached anywhere, it was getting tiring trying to memorize the last few parts of this piece and it just wasn’t sticking in my head for some reason.

“First you spill the glass of juice, and now this?” San sniggers throwing himself against the main sofa adjacent to me. For someone who lived in an estate surrounded by lush fields and the glimmering view of a large pool reflecting onto the ceiling above me, I was too melancholic.

“What?” I snap back. Throwing a glare at him I continue fixing the thin strands of string on the harp I sat at. “It’s just not my day, is it…” I mumble gnawing on my lips subconsciously.

“If that’s correct then it’s not your month Mila?” the snickering continued. He clearly had nothing better to do today.

“Oh be quiet,” I rubbed the tips of my fingers, the creases were starting to form again.

“No I’m being serious. Why you always so bitter.”

“Leave her alone San.” A distinct grumbling and barely familiar voice entered the main salon. The tall male made his way across the entryway and into the open cuisine corner past the bar.

It had been a long time since I had heard his dull and monotonous voice echoing past the halls of the manor.

“Seonghwa, what a pleasant surprise.” San’s voice dripped with feigned adoring. He was just pushing his limits at this point and Seonghwa had low patience when it came to these decisions.

“Brother, how have you been.”

“Fine.” He grunted in response, seemed like something was on his mind troubling him. “Congratulations on the marriage news Mila.”

“Thanks.” I visibly cringed out of defence. San being the calculating and sly bane noticed the change in my demeanour.

“I wouldn’t congratulate her, knowing princess Mimi here,” he waved the pointer finger towards me  “she’d want the wedding over in any way possible.” The younger male smirked flinging his head back against the armrest of the extended chaise longue.

“Stop.” I mouthed, slightly hissing at him. He just wouldn’t cut his snarky attitude. I secretly hoped he’d choke on one of the grapes he was dropping into his mouth.

“Mila, is this true?”

I paused sighing. I noticed I’ve been doing that a lot more than the usual the past few days. Looking up to the taller male I caught his eyes with mine. They were blank.

From the early age of 6, I was amazed at how he could manipulate his voice to show emotion and sound genuine, when he truly felt not a single ounce of care or love for anyone or anything. Seonghwa being from a different mother along with my older brothers, it felt strange to have him around and so I never got to see him that much.

“I… it’s just-”

“Mila.” If I ever hated to hear my name come out of anyone’s voice in a calling tone it was my mothers. It gave me anxiety just hearing the two syllables.

“Yes mother?” I was barely able to blurt out the response, through my teeth I uttered the words loud enough for her to hear and enter the room.

“There you are, listen up.” “I just got off the phone with Mrs Choi, the date has been set and their family have accepted. Prepare yourself,”

“For what, when?” San asking the questions I needed to hear made me feel mixed emotions and all at the same time.

I felt grateful. I knew I couldn’t ,move my own tongue. It felt heavy. I opened my mouth, but I didn’t know what to say. It was like all knowledge of speaking had been erased from my mind.

At an unchanging moment I felt a rage and burning fury against him for being so oblivious and blind. Deep down I didn’t want to hear it. I never wanted to overhear a thing about this topic. I didn’t want him to ask, shed have to answer that way.

I already knew, I knew it from the moment she entered the room a bright grin plastered on her face. It wasn’t the marriage that had given me a little shock it was how soon it was.

I swore to myself that for a short moment, felt my heart pause. Was this what people said when they felt themselves have a heart attack?

 “You’re getting married, tomorrow.”

[tsipasce]

Same Difference, Ch.09

A/N: FYI, this part gets a bit violent. No domestic abuse or anything like that, just a good ol’ fashioned fight scene. Anybutts, hope y'all enjoy~

Chapters: 01  |  02 |  03 |  04 | 05  | 06 | 07 | 08

AO3 | Fanfic

Nanami began walking down the now-familiar, winding hallways from her tea break to return to the lab. She wasn’t ready to examine the feelings she’d had after her spat with Overhaul, especially the ones that caused her such sadness at the thought of not seeing him again. In the back of her mind, she knew whatever she was feeling could simply be the result of successful manipulation on his part, but it didn’t change the relief she felt knowing they’d continue working together. Hoping to push away the thoughts before facing him again, she decided to focus on her efforts to find a suitable class for self-defense. Sure, Hitomi had a point in that it would at the very least be a confidence booster, but Nanami felt like she needed more.

I know Kurono said it was a cheap shot in a 1 vs. 30 battle royale, but still. * BANG* If Overhaul, ~*killer extraordinaire*~ can get injured like that, * BANG* I might as well be a sitting duck. Nanami concluded, remembering that she had involved herself in a world much more dangerous than she wanted to acknowledge. But where in the world am I gonna find * BANG* a class that’ll * BANG, BANG* teach me how to survive a fight to * BANG* the * BANG, BANG* death? * BANG, BANG, BANG* Ok, what the hell is making all that noise? Nanami thought now annoyed at whatever had been interrupting her train of thought.

Following the sound, she found the source of the noise: a very large man beating a block of concrete in the training room as though his life depended on it. She watched for a moment in amazement as his fists covered in heavy, metal gauntlets wore down one block of concrete after the next, ignoring the traditional workout equipment. He stopped for a beat, sensing her watching him from the doorway.

“Hey, doc. What brings you here?”

“Hi Rappa, it’s nothing, just heard a lot of commotion and wanted to make sure everything was alright. Don’t mind me!”

Shrugging, he continued training, now moving to weightlifting. Man, this is nothing like the classes I sat in on. I wonder what kind of training you’d have to get to be this proficient… I wish I could… Oh, duh. Nanami thought at the epiphany.

“Hey, Rappa, can I ask you a question?” Nanami asked, with a plan already in mind.

“Who’s gonna stop you?”

“True. Have you ever tried teaching anyone?”

“A couple times, but most don’t last too long. They lack the warrior spirit.”

“So… if someone did have this ‘warrior spirit’, you’d consider taking them on, right?”

“It would be a dream come true, to trade blows with another man, hellbent on victory! They’d have to prove their mettle, but nothing would bring me more joy!” He exclaimed and she could tell he was already daydreaming about the next fight.

“Well, what if there was a person that was hellbent on victory and had a true warrior spirit... but they were a woman. Would you train them?”

“Impossible.” He responded immediately.

“What makes you say that?” Nanami queried, a bit miffed at how sure of his answer he was.

“They don’t have it in their nature. Besides, we yakuza have a code of chivalry. I could never fight a broad.”

“Even if said broad could kick your ass?” Now she was pissed.

He laughed heartily, “The day I meet a woman like that, will be the same day Mimic can keep his mouth shut for more than 5 seconds. Or when hell freezes over, whichever comes first.”

“Well get ready for 5 seconds of bliss and Satan in some long johns because that woman is here.” Nanami said with a renewed sense of resolve.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’ll talk to you later, Rappa.”

“Uh… Ok, see ya later, doc.”

On the remainder of the walk back, Nanami practiced her proposal in her head. She knew it might be a hard sell, but she was determined. Bursting through the door, she saw Overhaul focused on his laptop, going through some data sheets. Aw, he looks so peaceful—no, snap out of it. Back on task. Nanami chastised herself, though she was happy knowing she’d be able to see him like this regularly since they’d done their version of making up earlier. Focusing on the task at hand, she spoke confidently,” Overhaul, I need to borrow one of your bullets.”

“Who do you need taken care of?” he turned to her, a serious look in his eyes.

“Wait what?”

“What?”

They exchanged looks of equal confusion, before realizing what the other meant. “Oh no, no, no—I don’t need anyone ‘taken care of’, I want to take care of them myself—but not like that…”

“It would be clearer if you referred to them as the Eight Bullets or Eight Precepts of Death in the future.”

“Oh, yeah that sounds way cooler.” She stated matter-of-factly.

“Tch. Of course, it does.”  He said turning and she could tell he was grateful in his own way of the compliment. “What do you need them for?”

“I don’t need all of them, just Rappa. And I want... no, I need him to train me.”

“Why do you need him to train you? It’s you and I who share the same quirk…” He trailed off at the last part.

“Oh, don’t be jealous, it’s just that I... I want to learn hand-to hand combat. I want to protect myself. I need to. You were right earlier when you said I’ve entered a world that prioritizes violence. It’s not that I want to prioritize it myself, but I know it would be naïve of me to be unprepared.” She replied resolutely.

“Of course, I was right.”

“That’s what you got from that?”

“However, I fail to see how this benefits me. Technically speaking, you have yet to rectify the power imbalance between us; you being able to completely negate my attacks is… problematic. Making you stronger would border on foolishness on my part.”

“So, you plan on attacking me in the future?”

“No, but the point still stands and the question remains: what do I have to gain from this?”

Nanami’s resolve did not waiver. She had the answer to this one, “An ally.”

His eyes narrowed at her, almost cautioning her to use her words wisely, but he continued to listen, pushing his laptop to the side. “Go on.”

“I wouldn’t serve you or be an accomplice, nor conspirator to any crimes. However, I will not plot against you, attack you without proper provocation, and if you’re in a bind like tonight, I will be there. In addition to this… I’ll tell you how I was able to negate your attack. It’s still a working theory, but I’d be willing to share and practice it with you until it’s fully proven. I can teach you, but only after Rappa has trained me and you teach me a defensive move using Overhaul. This way, we will be equal, for the most part.”

He stared at her searchingly, considering her proposal. After letting her squirm for a bit in suspense, he responded,” It cannot interfere with our organization’s daily dealings or our work in the lab.”

“Of course.”

“Then it’s a deal.”

“Also, could you talk to Rappa for me? You know the whole chivalry thing…” She trailed off hoping he would catch her drift.

“You’re just full of requests today.” He said, slightly annoyed as she raised her brows waiting for an answer, “He will comply. You may have to prove yourself, but he will comply.”

 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was decided that Nanami would be tested by Rappa a week from the day. If she wasn’t sure about the nature of the test, it was certainly made clear when Rappa explained in a way only he could:

“I’ll take it easy since you’re a woman. If you can make me surrender, I’ll teach you.”

Such a generous soul~ Nanami mused to herself after pushing through the fourth lap. She didn’t expect to become a prize fighter in a week, but not getting winded just by going up the stairs at work was a good start. She’d kept somewhat in shape and had grown up doing club sports in school, but nothing she could think of that would constitute a “warrior spirit”. Looks like we’re gonna have to get creative with this…

Checking her watch, she realized she had just enough time to make an important call before her next appointment. “Hey Miki, how’ve you been?... That’s awesome, I’m doing alright myself… Hm? No, no we’re still on for dinner Thursday, I just had a favor to ask… Could I join you for some freerunning this week?... Nevermind why I’m breathing so heavy! Can I come? ...Thank you, Thank you, Thank you—I’ll see you at the station by your place. Bye!” The phone clicked.

She wouldn’t become a master in a week—maybe not even an intermediate level fighter—but at least she could have a sliver of a chance at winning Rappa over. With her plan coming together, she pushed for another lap, a little more confidence in her step than before.

 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A week came and went, now Nanami stood in front of her closet, unsure of what to wear.

“What do you usually wear to a fight anyway…” She pondered, remembering what every fighting person she knew wore on a regular basis. Rappa wore jeans and a t-shirt, “If I can’t sleep in jeans, how the hell am I supposed to fight in them? Next.” Overhaul wore business attire, “The man’s an enigma, not even realistic to compare wardrobe choices there…Wait.” Nanami had an epiphany. Her fighting style, if she could call it that yet, wasn’t much like either of theirs from what she knew. Deciding it would be smartest to wear what she’d been training in that week of preparation, she got changed and hurried over.

Rushing her park job, she sat in her car for a beat, trying to catch her breath. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been a nervous wreck anticipating her “trial by fire” today. Even with a plan, it would be hard to predict how she’d react in the moment when her safety was on the line. After rejecting her quirk and consequently, her body, for such a long time, it seemed like an impossible task to lean on it completely, to trust it, but what choice do I have? Nanami asked herself with equal measures of resignation and resolve. Deciding it was do or di—nope, gotta use a better phrase. We are not speaking the possibility of death into existence. Not today. Deciding it was now or never, Nanami took a deep breath, centering herself as she worked up the nerve to exit her car and march to the base and down to the training room.

Stopping in front of the entrance, she exhaled deeply once again, pushing the large door open. Upon opening it, she saw Rappa rotating his shoulders and stretching his arms. She gulped heavily, remembering his quirk, Strongarm, would soon be used on her. Focusing on her opponent, she hadn’t noticed someone else standing in the corner by the door.

“If you focus any harder, you’ll pop a blood vessel.” Said a familiar voice, startling her from her thoughts.

She put a hand to her chest, trying to calm down, “Oh my gosh you scared the shit out of me… and leave me alone. Everyone has their own way of preparing, I’m just… figuring mine out.”

“That and your sparring attire.” Overhaul responded too quickly for her liking, giving her a once over.

Defensively pulling her tracksuit closed, she gave him a look,” Did you come to roast me or root for me?”

“Neither. I am merely here to supervise. Whether you win or not is none of my concern.”

“Aaaand this is why I didn’t ask you to train me. If you need me, I’ll be stretching over there, ref.”

Nanami rolled her eyes, making her way to what she figured would be her side of the arena. The training room was large with two sections; one part took up a third of the room, hosting a myriad of traditional gym equipment and weights. The other part which was the arena, took up the remaining two thirds and was outlined on the floor in white with room on the sidelines for observers …and sassy referees. Nanami thought, remembering his dig from earlier.

Removing her tracksuit, she donned black leggings and a matching, sleeveless workout top. It was sleek and formfitting, maximizing her range of mobility. After she completed a couple toe touches, lunges and back stretches, Rappa took a step forward into the ring, “Alright, you know the rules! I’m making it easy on you by only asking for a surrender, but I won’t hold back.”

“I wouldn’t want you too. Let’s do this.” Nanami said, her game face on and her voice confident in an effort to override the doubts she had in her head.

“Now that’s the spirit! Come at me, doc!”

Getting into a stance, Nanami made a B-line towards Rappa, sprinting at full speed. He braced himself in a defensive stance, ready to attack when she came within striking distance. He was wearing his mask, but she could feel how serious the mood of the room had gotten. Just stick to the plan, it’ll all be ok, she said, steeling herself from further doubt. Focusing, she saw the second he was readying himself to take his first swing. Just then, she slid and dodged, slapping her hand firmly on the ground as she slid, sending a ripple in the direction she was headed, a pillar forming. She then slid past the new structure, extended her arms, and grabbed onto the pillar to swing herself back in his direction at full force. Keeping both her feet together she surprised him, landing a solid kick to the face. She followed through as he staggered, and she landed, rolling to minimize the impact. Before she could appreciate the look of surprise on Overhaul’s face, Rappa had recovered. Her refresher course on parkour with Miki had paid off and she had a few tricks up her sleeve.

“Now that was good. Give me more!” He exclaimed, punching the ground, barely missing her head as she dodged. Nanami had been fast, but Rappa was much more agile than he looked. She’d done some research on his quirk, but no amount of reading could have prepared her for the reality of it. Though it probably wouldn’t have seemed threatening if it had belonged to someone else, it suited him perfectly. He didn’t just have a quirk, he had a set of skills and used it to amplify them. Even without the added power, he was a force to be reckoned with.

Before she had the chance to think too much, he struck again and again, dodging becoming more difficult with each blow. Deciding to act, she erected more pillars.

“Putting up a wall for protection won’t gain you a surrender—come and fight me!” He warned, charging towards her.

“Who said these were for my protection?”  Nanami responded as she ran. She launched herself to gain enough momentum, bouncing between the pillars, she managed to land a punch to his side, just beneath his ribs, earning her a grunt. Now more confident, she went in for a second attack, this time she was going to aim for his chin, hoping to knock him out. In this movement, her lack of combat training caused her to make a grave error: she was wide open. By the time she saw Rappa winding up for an uppercut, it was too late to react. He landed a solid blow to her abdomen before grabbing her like a ragdoll, tossing her clear across the room and into the wall on the opposite side of the arena. Her back hit the wall with a thud, and she gasped for air as the wind was knocked out of her. She was certain she’d broken a rib or two. She fell on all fours, heaving as she grasped at the broken parts of her rib cage. She coughed up blood, accepting the consequences of being hit in real combat. When she expelled more of the red liquid from her mouth, she could’ve sworn she saw Overhaul reflexively lunge towards her. Without thinking she raised a hand motioning him to stop whatever he planned on doing, the other still clutching her side. Looking over to him, her expression must have relayed her determination. He took a step back, his face expressionless once again.

Reaching under her shirt to the affected area, she felt for a moment and healed herself, the sound of bones cracking back into place echoing throughout the room. She rose again, steadying herself as she took up her stance once again, “I’m not done yet.” Nanami gritted.

His mask was now ripped from her previous blows she could see a large smile forming. “Now that’s the look I want to see. IF YOU WANT VICTORY, COME AND TAKE IT WITH YOUR FISTS!”

Nanami charged forward, landing some solid blows as using her ability to manipulate the arena to her advantage. Though she’d used her quirk on their surroundings, she’d yet to use it on her opponent directly. Deep down, she was still too afraid to use it in that way. The only “fight” she’d ever used it against someone was when Overhaul and her first met, but really it was just a means to escape. Even in the face of danger, she found herself more afraid of losing control like she had all those years ago. As she hesitated, Rappa landed another solid blow, this time to her shoulder, dislocating it. She managed to stifle a scream of pain, but she knew this was bad. Before she had time to heal, he was charging towards her once again. She had enough mobility to dodge some of his blows, but not all of them. She couldn’t heal herself quickly enough to keep up with his attacks. He landed another to her ribs, a fist to her back and a knee to her abdomen. Rappa was enjoying himself and she was becoming less and less sure that he remembered this was a duel to a surrender and not to the death.

Completely forgetting where she was in her panic, an immense sense of danger crashed over her, the adrenaline taking over giving her tunnel vision. Judging by how he wound up, the next blow could have certainly killed her. She braced for impact, no longer thinking strategy and then… nothing. All she felt was the gust of wind that came from his fist stopping near her face and his breath on the back of her hand. Focusing her vision, she realized she had her finger pointed, mere inches from his neck and Rappa was frozen in his place, careful not to even clear his throat. Nanami hadn’t realized it, but her eyes were almost black and her face that of a cornered animal. She would have obliterated him had he not stopped short, an experience he wasn’t quick to relive a sixth time.

A smile slowly crept back across his face and Nanami was snapped out of her trance by the sound of jovial laughter. “I surrender, doc. THAT WAS GREAT! The look on your face right now, it’s perfect! I’ll see ya Thursday for training.” He boomed before shaking her hand that was aimed to kill him mere seconds ago. “I gotta make my rounds, but I’m looking forward to working with ya, doc. You’re one tough broad!” He said as he continued laughing to himself, exiting the room.

This whole place is just a dozen different flavors of crazy… I almost killed him, Nanami thought to herself, happy to have passed his trial, but terrified at the possibility of repeating “the incident”. Losing control scared her more than anything, but deep down she knew in order to master her quirk, she would have to take the risk and use it first. One step at a time, Nanami reassured herself, quelling the effects of the traumatic memories.  In reality, she knew whatever training he could give her would far surpass any of the self-defense classes she was going to settle for before. She wasn’t just going to be confident; she was going to be prepared. Just as she was riding the waves of her victory, the adrenaline began to wear off and the pain came washed over her like a tsunami. It left her breathless for a moment and all she wanted was to cry out but couldn’t as she felt one of her ribs pushing into her lung. Now laying on her back, she focused on moving the arm that wasn’t dislocated to her side, repairing her ribs and internal organs.

As she sat up to kneel on the floor and heal her shoulder, she heard footsteps coming towards her. “You’re going to have to get quicker at recovering if you plan on standing a chance the next time.” He said, looking down at her exhausted form still seated on the floor.

“I know.” Nanami sighed, reflecting on her sluggish reflexes with a bit of disappointment.

He stood in place, examining her for a beat. Suddenly something white entered her line of sight. Lifting her gaze, she saw his gloved hand extended to help her up, though his face was turned away. Quickly brushing off her surprise at his gesture, she patted her palms on her sides, before clasping his hand. He lifted her up with ease, and had she not already tempted death once today, she would have jokingly asked for a piggyback ride. Now standing close, their hands remained clasped between them longer than she expected. Craning her neck to make eye contact, she could tell he was thinking, his gaze unwavering with an emotion she couldn’t name. Just as she was about to get lost in those golden eyes, he spoke “You smell terrible.”

Ah. The ~emotion~ was in fact just stank face. Should’ve known he’d say something like that... She thought as her face dropped into one of exasperation.

“That, my very rude friend, is the smell of victory, so take a big whiff.” She retorted, moving past him, flipping her hair as she sashayed over to her bag to collect her things.

“Still wreaks… however, your performance was impressive, for an amateur.” The last part added as though it would break the very laws of nature itself to award a compliment without a catch. “See you tomorrow.” He remarked, leaving the room.

Her back was still turned as she zipped her bag, trying her best to hide the small smile that rested on her now proud face. “See you tomorrow.”

[quirkless-and-embarrassed]

Sir Nighteye

Ok, I watched the anime and felt like doing another character meme!

Spoilers for Overhaul arc/season four of the anime.

Favorite thing about him:

I like that Nighteye didn’t allow his admiration of All Might to turn him into a pushover. Such adulation could have blinded him to All Might’s flaws, something Midoriya struggles with, but Nighteye stood firm, spoke his mind, and took action in accordance with what he believed. The way Nighteye willingly, gladly admits to being wrong (about Midoriya and All Might’s decision to fight fate) makes it clear that it wasn’t pride that drove Nighteye away from All Might, but actually principles and genuine concern/panic. Nighteye was happy to be wrong, even though it meant that his failures to change the future were true failures and not simply something out of his control. Knowing this enabled Nighteye to let go of his underlying fear that his quirk didn’t just see the future, it set the future in stone, and he’s able to die peacefully after giving All Might and Midoriya his full, unconditional approval, and after internally apologizing to Mirio for seeing him as a vessel before realizing the error of his ways.

Nighteye presumably awakened his quirk when was four or five, and he was thirty-eight when he died. That’s thirty-four years—he could have used his quirk easily thousands of times, maybe more than ten-thousand—and never once has the future significantly deviated from what he saw. Essentially, his quirk’s been the daily Word Of God since he was five years old. It’s easy for Midoriya or Rock Lock to say, bring it on, I can smash fate; for Nighteye, who has actually tried, it’s a completely different ballgame. He knows what it MEANS to try to change to fate, but he’s determined to try anyways.

I like the balance Nighteye strikes between fierce idealism and calculated realism. Yeah, the narrative often criticizes realism for not being plus ultra, but it’s a quality I like. Nighteye wanted to carefully plan Eri’s rescue and Overhaul’s arrest, but his caution didn’t make him any less committed or passionate, or any less admirable than anyone who would have (tried to) saved her immediately (it’s not like Overhaul would let anyone walk away with her).

I like his hero name. The Sir invokes the honor of a knight, All Might’s vassal, the “eye” is obvious, and “night” because he can see in the “dark”: the future is clear to him. Plus, I like the night/knight pun.

I also like just how gangly, angular, and weird he looks. He has some quality body language with the angle of his head.

Least favorite thing about him:

His stamps…his abs…come on. He doesn’t need to a fantastic fighter. His stamps are a funny weapon to be sure, but it irritates me that they’re as strong as they are. It’s ridiculous that Nighteye could cartoonishly hurl Rappa the way he did, and it was stupid to tear his shirt to show off how ripped he was. I felt like Horikoshi was trying to show us that Nighteye meets the standards of a conventional hero, when he could be just as much of a hero using his brain. At the most, someone like Nighteye, who emphasizes logic and excels at predicting opponents’ next moves, should be carrying a gun like the police.

The tickle machine. Eughh. I could barf at how much I hate it.

It’s also frustrating that Nighteye completely wrote Midoriya off as a “quirkless middle-schooler” who could never become the Symbol of Peace and actively undermined All Might even now that he was finally raising a successor. I can at least respect how upfront he is about it: Midoriya knows what he’s getting into by the time he submits his work study application to UA. But even without that, Nighteye doesn’t trouble me as much as he did the first time I read the manga because 1) I figure Nighteye saw Midoriya when he foresaw All Might’s doomed future, because Midoriya is such a big part of his life that of course Nighteye saw him, 2) Nighteye is aware that they’re working on an extremely tight timeline: All Might is due to die within the next year or two, so picking a baby successor who’s going to need tons of hands-on guidance is a bad move, and 3) Nighteye paid the price for his “quirkless” comment when Mirio lost his quirk, and, despite what he said, it was clear that he didn’t love Mirio less, or respect him less as a hero, because of it.

I like that Nighteye appreciates humor, but his final speech about laughter and smiling, combined with Mirio’s determinedly positive reaction, makes me think that he may not have taught Mirio that it’s okay to be sad, that you don’t need to always smile. That would be a disappointing failure on Nighteye’s part, since the overwhelming pressure All Might feels to be positive+proactive is part of what made him unable to accept Nighteye’s criticism. It also fits with how Nighteye’s inner monologues tend to be more sympathetic than his actual dialogue, so maybe Nighteye should have tried to be less didactic and tell Mirio that he has been Nighteye’s pride and joy, instead of thinking that and giving Mirio a last speech on the importance of smiles and humor. I think he would have been a better teacher if he’d allowed himself to be more sentimental.

Favorite line:

My absolute favorite is in ch137, as he observes Mirio’s guilt from letting Overhaul retrieve Eri and bring her back to his headquarters. Nighteye thinks:

I can’t say whether or not the future can be changed. But we can change the past. How we view the past and interpret it. That much is possible.

It’s an important life lesson, and I like how he inverts the typical, “the past can’t be changed, but you can control the future so that’s what matters” perspective.

I also like it in ch130, when Nighteye berates-slash-comforts Midoriya, who regrets allowing Overhaul take Eri back: “Enough of that arrogant thinking! Haste makes waste. Go after him haphazardly, and he’ll slip through our fingers. You’re not quite so special as to save whom you want, when you want.” Then he elaborates on their plan and finishes with a bang: “The world is not so accommodating that you can act the hero because you feel like it. The cleverest villains out there lurk in the shadows. There will be times when every precaution must be taken.”

One more, in ch161. When he’s on his deathbed, Nighteye looks at Mirio and thinks, In the beginning…I only brought you in as a potential vessel, but you stuck by me, believed in me, and at some point…you became my pride and joy.

BROTP:

Him and Mirio. I love how Nighteye took Mirio under his wing in a half-logical way, viewing him as All Might’s proper successor, only to accidentally raise Mirio as his own successor.

I wish we got to see Nighteye and Aizawa interact more. They’re both the rational mentors who get attached to their kids. It would have been nice to see Aizawa talk to Nighteye about his problem child or about Mirio, or to help Midoriya navigate his relationship with Nighteye, but since Aizawa doesn’t know about OfA and Nighteye was on his way out anyways…oh well.

I’d also love to have seen Nighteye and Hawks interact. They’re connected on a meta level, as the unofficial righthand men of the #1 heroes, and also by the idea of fate. Nighteye’s arc centered on the fact he could see the future, and the future he saw could not be changed. Hawks may or may not know it, but the imagery surrounding him is unmistakeable, and we the readers know that some sort of doom is waiting for the man who goes too fast. Whether Hawks can defy fate or if he’ll be crushed by it remains to be seen (and, like Nighteye, he’s not looking promising).

Hawks takes one look at Nighteye—perfectly pressed suit, pinched, no-nonsense expression and all—and is like oh this guy looks like he’s gonna be fun. Nighteye looks even more tightly wound than Endeavor. But actually, Nighteye actually respects and appreciates Hawks’s cavalier attitude! And though they rarely see each other, since they live far apart, they become friends who mainly swap information and keep each other up to date on villain things. Occasionally Hawks will see something ridiculous, like a meme or something, and send it to Nighteye, and Nighteye follows Hawks on social media and sometimes likes his stuff.

It’d be especially interesting to see them disagree about All Might. Nighteye is such a hardcore fanboy, Hawks professes to not be a fan, the Symbol of Peace is such an important part of how Nighteye envisions the future, and it’d be interesting to hear Hawks’s perspective on the Symbol of Peace and where it fits into his vision of the future.

I also appreciate Nighteye and All Might’s relationship, but like…idk, they got so little time together in canon, I kinda prefer to think of it as a dead brotp. Even if Nighteye had survived, I would kinda want his relationship with All Might not to be very close, because even though they weren’t angry anymore didn’t mean they could pick up where they left off.

OTP:

Hmm…not really anyone. I haven’t read much Nighteye fic. There is this one touching soulmate AU where he and All Might both bear the black symbol of someone who has been rejected by their soulmate…here.

NOTP:

No, not really.

Random headcanon:

One of the reasons he reacted so harshly to Midoriya as All Might’s successor is that when he foresaw All Might’s death, he also saw Midoriya. Midoriya’s failure to protect All Might from his gruesome death revealed him as an unfit successor, and he believes if he can remove Midoriya from the equation, then he will have changed the future.

Nighteye helped All Might track down AfO to avenge Nana, and he felt partially responsible for All Might’s injury in addition to fearing that his quirk set All Might’s future in stone.

Nighteye used his quirk on All Might between surgeries, because he couldn’t stand not knowing whether All Might would survive his wounds from AfO or not. He should have stopped when he saw All Might survived, but—he’s such a fanboy, and he saw that future!him was terrified and arguing with All Might about something, and he knew immediately just from the expression on his own face that he’d foreseen All Might’s death. He couldn’t resist looking ahead to find it and learn how much time All Might had left.

…part of me thinks that the reason Nighteye’s foresight was wrong about Midoriya’s death was because Eri also has a time-related quirk, and there was nothing Midoriya really did to change fate. Which would be sad, but. Yeah.

I’d like to think that Nighteye had a really wacky, judgmental cat with a questionably funny name. It sat on top of the fridge and looked down on him when he came home late. After his death, it becomes his agency’s cat and harbors a dangerous grudge against Bubble Girl’s aromatic bubbles.

Unpopular opinion:

It seems like plenty of people dislike him, so…I like him? He’s not even close to one of my favorites, but still.

Even though I like him, I was surprised to discover he was dead—I forgot he died, so I guess his death scene didn’t leave an impression on me. Looking back on it, I think it’s a nice enough scene, but at the time I was probably too exasperated by the overhaul arc as a whole to care much.

idk, I don’t see people talk about him much.

Song I associate with him:

uh…um…well……there isn’t really any music I associate with him. Here are a few songs that are very loose associations, I guess.

Darkside of the Sun by Tokio Hotel reminds me of how All Might’s public persona has taken over his identity, and Nighteye is seeking to save his life by retiring his persona.

Carry Me Down by Demon Hunter has the line “I know the pain inside my heart / can’t break the fear inside of yours,” which reminds me of Nighteye’s grief can’t persuade All Might to confront the reality of his imminent death, plus other stuff in the song about unspoken regrets and death.

And last, Turns to Dust by Sound Surfer and Nilka reminds me of Shigaraki (for obvious reasons), but I think it also speaks to Nighteye’s fear of his quirk.

Favorite picture of him:

Ch126 – Nighteye’s glare when Midoriya mimics All Might’s smile! He sure is intimidating 😂

Episode 75 – This moment did nothing for me in the manga, but it was genuinely moving in the anime. The voice acting and music <3 

I’ve also done Todoroki, Bakugo, Uraraka, Endeavor, Amajiki, and Shinsou!

[gloomy-goober]

Baby Mine

Summary: When a side forms in the mind of a host, they form young. A child, new and impressionable. Without much purpose but to grow into a new facet of a growing personality. A cry in the middle of the night wakes Anxiety, the eldest of the aspects that live in Thomas' subconscious. It was not the first time he would have to take care of a growing facet. Still something seems different about this new side and it is not the fact that one of his eyes is glowing gold nor the scales that cover half the face. He just wishes he could figure out what it was.

Tag List: @emotional-mess-in-distress @daflangstlairde @whizzie72

AO3 

“I am going to strangle whatever keeps making that sound.”

Anxiety looked down at the young child beside him. Worried about how the orange eyes blazed. With every day that Wrath grew, Anxiety could not help but worry about what this seemingly innocent four-year-old would become once he caught up with Thomas’ age.

“It’s a baby, Wrath, you are not going to do that,” Anxiety said.

“Why not, it’s annoying and babies are stinky.”

The eldest side looked to his other side. Green eyes blazed bright in the dim light of the hallway, his arms crossed. The five-year-old kid looked even smaller in the large t-shirt he had stolen from Anxiety’s closet. Innocent almost, but Anxiety knew the greed behind those eyes.

“You were a baby once too, Jealousy, and I didn’t leave you to cry.”

Jealousy pouted. Both the children did not seem convinced.

“He won’t be a baby for long. Only a day or so, so stop-.”

Anxiety stopped talking as the trio turned the corner. A door now stood at the end of this hallway. It almost glowed in the darkness that surrounded it; a bright yellow with black designs painted around the doorframe.

“Why is that door so much brighter then mine! I want a bright door!” Jealousy stomped his foot and glared at the offending door.

“Too bright,” Wrath said.

Anxiety wanted to back away. Yellow was a sign of danger, caution, and poison. Thomas had seen it used on caution tape and saw it on the color of the bee that stung him.

But the crying was coming from inside. Loud and shrill; distressed.

The anxious trait took a breath and let go of Wrath’s hand.

“Stay out here.”

“Why do we have to stay outside?”

“Just do as I say, Jealousy!”

“But-“

Wrath sat on the ground and kicked Jealousy in the shin, “Shut up. The faster we get this done the faster I can go back to sleep.”

“Why did you kick me?”

“’Cause you are annoying.”

“I am not annoying!”

Anxiety tuned the argument out as he reached for the black door handle. He wanted to run. To flee. But the sudden end to the crying alarmed him more then the possible danger that could lie within.

What if I waited too long?

What if this kid just suffocated himself?

Oh God, I killed a baby!

Anxiety pulled the door open and stepped inside. The door automatically closed behind him; completely locking out the sound of the two younger sides that fought out in the hall.

The room was barren. The walls a grey color that was just slightly too dark to be comforting. A closet door was on one side of the room; painted black with yellow designs. A full-length mirror stood on a stand next to the front door. A single window broke the grey square that was this room; perfectly positioned above the crib in the corner of the room.

The white paint on the crib was chipped to show the dark-colored wood underneath. A light-yellow blanket poked out of one of the bars. Next to the crib a stuffed snake laid, button eyes two different colored. They stared up at Anxiety in a way that made his stomach curl.

The side took a breath and slowly moved forward into the room and he stopped next to the crib. His eyes darted to every corner to search for any possible trap. A tiny sniffle brought the gaze down into the crib and he could only stare down at the baby that laid there.

He was small, smaller then Wrath had been when he had first formed. Little feet snug in a black onesie kicked at the yellow blanket the baby laid on. Tiny mittens covered the hands of the baby to stop any accidental scratches from occurring. The tiny face was red and scrunched up, covered in tears and snot from crying. Blond curls were splayed out on the mattress; so different from the slowly darkening hair of their host.

But what caught Virgil’s attention the most was the left side of the child’s face. It was covered in light green scales. When the baby opened his eyes Virgil saw one yellow and one brown. So unlike the usual same color that he had seen in the previous sides.

The child’s eyes were filled with tears, but the sniffles stopped.

The two stared at each other. Silent. As if a breath could ruin the calm that had settled into the room.

Then it was broken as the baby started to whimper. Little arms reached up in a silent request that Anxiety answered without hesitation. The baby lifted and settled the child as comfortably as he could in his arms.

A cold, snotty face pressed into the anxious side’s shoulder. Little, mitten covered hands clung onto the hoodie.

“It’s okay, Kidlet, I got you. Don’t cry.”

Anxiety ran a hand through the curls in, what he hoped, was a calming gesture. As gently as he could, the side leaned down and picked up the toy. His hold on the baby did not waver; so scared of dropping something so small.

“It’ll be okay, no more crying.” He moved the toy to be in the baby’s view. A small smile appeared on his face when the child grabbed it. Squishing it against his face; eyes wide as they stared at Anxiety.

So much trust even as tears wanted to fall.

“Yeah, there you go,” a smile pulled onto Anxiety’s face, “No more tears. This place needs more smiles.”

The baby pushed the toy into his mouth.

“You probably need some food, huh? All that crying probably made you hungry. I know I get hungry after I have a big melt down.”

The baby just made a small noise as he shifted the toy to a better position in his mouth. Clearly the plush of the snake was much more interesting then the words that the older child was saying.

“Cute,” Anxiety mumbled the words as he pushed the door open. He had almost forgotten about the other two sides until he had hands trying to pull the baby out of his grip.

“What is it?”

“Why does he look like that?”

“What kind of side even is that?”

“Why is it so stinky?”

“I was cuter then him, right? I mean, obviously.”

Anxiety pulled back before the baby could be wrenched from his grip. Holding the child closer to his chest then before. A few sniffles came from the baby who was clearly overwhelmed by the sudden attention.

“Stop it, both of you.”

Jealousy glared.

“We just want to see the thing that woke us up,” Wrath snarled.

“He is not a thing,” Anxiety snapped. His patience always ran thin with the dark side. A tiny whimper made him check his tone before he continued.

“He’s a side. New, not yet fully formed, but he is a side.”

“Not a good one seeing as he is all scaly” Jealousy mumbled.

“Might I remind you about your feathers, Jealousy?” Anxiety shot back.

The kid pulled at his hair where a few blue-green feathers poked out. An embarrassed flush taking over his face. Wrath moved to stand next to the other side, orange eyes glowing as he glared.

“You both can go back to bed. I can take care of this.”

“But-.” Jealousy moved to protest but the glare he got made him silent.

“Some on, J, we don’t need to hang out with Anxiety and his dumb baby anyway,” Wrath mumbled. His hand was gentle as he led the other side away.

Anxiety only let out a breath when the two kids turned down the corner and disappeared into the darkness.

“Sorry you had to see all that, kid.”

He looked down at the baby in his arms. Mismatched eyes looked back up at him; toy now soaked in drool. A wet, mitten hand moved up and touched the side’s cheek.

“Gross, but thanks for trying,” he looked at the hall where the two other sides had disappeared, “I’ll talk to them in the morning. I promise.”

The baby’s yellow eye seemed to flash at the words. It was unsettling.

“Okay, you are weird.”

The baby moved the toy out of his mouth, “Ba!”

“Least you admit to it, Kidlet. Now, do you eat solid food yet or are you on a solely plush toy diet?”

Anxiety was slow as he moved down the hall towards his own room. His eyes rarely left the child in his arms. The response to his question was just a slow blink and the toy being pushed back into the mouth.

“That is what I thought,” Anxiety sighed, “We’ll try bananas anyway. Think you will like how they taste. Much more high end then a plush toy.”

Babies were not very good at conversations, but Anxiety did not seem to mind. He missed when the other two could only stare at him blankly and make small noises. Though Wrath was much fussier then the child in his arms now and Jealousy was constantly in need to be held.

“Let’s see how this round goes,” Anxiety whispered to the air as he pushed his door open. A wave of the hand had what he needed summoned.

The baby didn’t protest too much as he was placed into the dark black highchair and the spit covered mittens were taken off. The baby simply let the plush toy snake fall onto the high chair’s table and looked around the room. His focus seemed to stay on the clock that never seemed to stop spinning. Little eyes wide as he tried to follow the frantic hands.

Anxiety dug into a few drawers until he found what he was looking for.

“Alright, short stack, lets see if you are going to make a mess of my room.”

He pulled up his desk chair to face the high chair. A spoon summoned into his hand as he opened the jar.

The baby’s cheeks puffed out as he watched Anxiety closely. Little feet kicked back and forth as the baby adjusted to the chair. Bare hands hit the table. He seemed to like having free hands.

“You excited for some ‘nana?” He did not mean for the baby talk but the reaction was worth it.

The baby seemed to freeze and then almost looked disapproving at the baby talk that was attempted.

“Alright, alright.  No baby talk,” Anxiety chuckled as he scooped some of the bananas onto the spoon, “But can you try this? If not, I got a bottle somewhere.”

He held up the spoon near the baby’s face. The kid tilted his head to the side and then raised a hand to try and take what was being handed to him. Tiny fingers moved right into the food. The baby let go instantly and looked at his hand. Eyes looked to Anxiety to see if this was normal and okay.

“Not exactly what I meant you to do, but hey. Yeah, that is food.”

Anxiety turned the spoon to his own mouth and mimed eating it.

“Food.”

The kid watched closely and then stuck the food covered hand into his mouth. The yellow eye’s pupil seemed to take over the iris. The brown human eye seemed to sparkle. His little feet kicked as he reached a sticky, drool covered hand back to the spoon.

“I am gonna take that as you like it.”

“Ne!”

The baby kicked his feet faster as he tried to reach over the highchair’s tray for the spoon.

“Okay hold on,” Anxiety rolled his eyes and moved the spoon forward. This time encouraging the little mouth to wrap around the plastic spoon instead of sticking his fingers in it. “There we go. Big bite.”

The kid was too happy to care about more accidental baby talk. The little face having some banana squish out as he enjoyed his food.

Every bite that Anxiety fed the baby seemed to be an adventure in keeping it in the kid’s mouth. This baby was determined to play with his food as much as he wanted to eat it. Little hands and the onesie becoming caked with mashed banana.

“You know that this is food and not finger paint, right?”

Anxiety asked as he screwed the lid to the jar shut. The kid had been playing with the last three scoops and it seemed safe to say that he was done eating.

The baby just giggled and hit a nice puddle of banana so that it splattered. Anxiety fought the smile that wanted to appear. This kid had only been around him for an hour and already had him wrapped around his tiny fingers. Curses.

The older side wiped the banana off his cheek with a sigh, “You are lucky that we are figments in a mind and not real people.”

With a snap of his fingers, the baby was clean of banana and in a dark onesie that resembled a bat. The little eyes were wide at the sudden change and he started to poke at the fake wings. Trying to stick one in his mouth but it was just out of reach.

“Adorable,” Anxiety chuckled as he picked up the baby. His hand moved to pull the hood up over the wild curls, “A little flying baby puppy dog.”

The baby did not seem interested in the side that held him. His attention was on the toy that he had left on the high chair. A tiny noise being made as little hands reached for it.

“Alright, alright. I see how it is. I feed you and you only want the toy.”

Anxiety picked it up and then sat down on his bed with the baby on his lap. The kid seemed happy to have the snake back in his grip, little hands shaking the plush up and down. Giggling at the movements.

“If it wasn’t for the scales, I would believe you were a ‘light’ side or whatever the other sides are calling their group now,” Anxiety yawned, “You are just so happy, sunshine.”

The baby babbled to the snake toy. A tiny squeal left him as Anxiety moved them both to lay down; the child rested on top of him.

Anxiety was still gentle as he turned the baby over, so they were stomach to chest. The drool-soaked snake now rested on the bed next to them. Mismatched eyes looked at him with wonder at this new position.

“I forgot how cute your little things are when you experience new things,” Anxiety found himself whispering. A finger brushed a few stray curls out of the baby’s face, “You are so full of wonder and hope.”

The baby yawned and laid the side of his head on Anxiety’s chest. Seeming to be calmed by the sound of the heart he heard and the hand that rubbed his back gently.

“Yeah, it’s late isn’t it? Think we could both use some sleep.”

He did not want to fall asleep with a baby on him, but Anxiety did not have the heart to try and move the small figure that rested on his stomach. So he just laid there, amazed as their heart beats seemed to align. For the first time since he was formed he felt calm.

[trendytopshirts]

Caution My Nana Will Always Be My Beautiful Angel T-Shirt Caution My Nana Will Always Be My Beautiful Angel T-Shirt - #cautionmynana #nana #mother #grandkid #giftfornana #giftfromgrandkid #messwithmynana #ilovemynana #tshirt #funny #giftidea #mothersday #mothersday2017 #cute #custom #tanktop #grandson #granddaughter #grandma

[catalinda04]

Carried Away Chapter 26: Baby Talk

Masterlist

Lucy and Henry were awakened in the familially traditional way the morning after Thanksgiving. Quinn and Thomas burst in, and jumped on the not quite sleeping pair, having been awakened by the kids clomping down the basement stairs. Having been warned of the tradition, Henry slept in pajama pants and a t-shirt, which was quite different from his usual nothing. Lucy had also switched sides of the bed, so she was closer to the door, and would therefore receive the brunt of the young children’s pounces.

“Auntie, Unca Henry! It’s time to wake up.” Quinn announced, bouncing on the bed.

“Thank you sweetie. We’re up, now go wake-up mommy and daddy.” Lucy said, kissing each of the kids on the cheek.

“You weren’t kidding about the wake-up.” Henry said, sitting-up, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“They’re quite enthusiastic. I don’t know where the energy comes from.”

“Quinn called me Unca Henry.” Henry said, wrapping his arms around Lucy.

“I noticed, how do you feel about that?”

“I think I like it.” He leaned to Lucy, pressing his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and leaned, until he was flat against the bed her chest pressed to his. Lucy’s tongue plundered Henry’s mouth, her hands resting on his chest. Henry’s hands moved to Lucy’s back and started a slow slide south, but before his hands could reach anywhere interesting, they heard the kids’ feet thundering toward their room. They broke apart just seconds before the door flew open and Quinn came bounding in.

“Auntie, Unca, mommy said to ask you what you want for breakfast, so I could go tell grandma.”

“You tell grandma whatever you want to eat, and we’ll eat the same as you.” Lucy told the little girl.

“Mickey Mouse pancakes, yay!” Quinn yelled and ran out of the room, her steps could be heard pounding up the stairs.

Henry stood, searching through his clothes, finding his workout gear.

“Where are you going?” Lucy asked, watching Henry put on his outdoor clothes.

“If I’m going to eat another big breakfast, I need to go for a run, especially after yesterday. The suit is not forgiving.” He said, dropping a kiss on Lucy’s lips as he exited the room. Lucy slipped on her slippers and followed him.

“Don’t get lost, and be careful, the roads might be icy.” Lucy cautioned, giving Henry one more kiss before he went out into the frigid November weather. She turned to see Anna standing at her own bedroom door.

“Where’s he off to?” She asked.

“For a run, he’s still filming, and wearing a super suit is not holiday binge eating friendly.”

A thoughtful look crossed Anna’s face for a moment before she spoke. “No I don’t suppose it is.”

Henry returned from his run just in time to take a quick shower and join everyone for breakfast. Yesterday he’d eaten whatever he wanted, today, however, he was going to have to limit his calorie intake if he didn’t want his trainer to kill him when he got back to Detroit.

While spending the day with Lucy’s family, Henry realized that all the things he loved most about Lucy came from these people: her sense of humor, her quick wit, her easy way of showing affection. Even her laugh was just like her mother’s.

In the afternoon, the whole family went sledding on a small hill in the yard. Henry was going to suggest to his trainer they add sledding to his training regimen; trudging up a snowy hill in heavy boots, while pulling a sled with 2 kids on it, was wearing him out more than any workout his trainer had devised.

When Quinn and Thomas fell asleep in the living room before supper, Lucy volunteered to run to the grocery store for her mom. She indicated with her head that Henry should “volunteer” to come with. Lucy drove them around the corner from the house before putting the car in park and crawling over the console to straddle Henry’s lap, her mouth attacking his.

“I forgot how little privacy there is in that house.” She moaned as Henry kissed her neck.

“My hands have been itching to touch you all day.” Henry said looking her in the eyes. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him deeply.

“Please tell me we’re not all staying at your parents house for Christmas?”

“No, we, as well as my brothers and their wives, will all be at a hotel. Only the kids stay at the house, so they can be spoiled by Nana and Papa.”

“Thank god!” She sighed, before capturing his mouth again.

The close confines of the car made anything more intimate virtually impossible, but the make-out session was enough to tide them over, until they could be truly alone.

The following morning, after another big family breakfast, Clint and Anna packed up the kids to spend the rest of the holiday weekend with Anna’s family, while Lucy and Henry went back to the quiet and privacy of Lucy’s house. The closer they got to her house, the more nervous Lucy became. The big “kids” conversation loomed on the horizon, and Lucy wasn’t sure how to handle it.

Lucy had barely taken off her coat before Henry attacked her. Apparently their almost 2 days of celibacy had been just too much for him. He carried her to the bedroom and spent the rest of the morning showing her just how much he’d missed touching her.

It was while they laid in their smiling afterglow; Henry running his fingers leisurely up and down Lucy’s back, while she swirled her fingers in his chest hair, that Henry brought up their tabled conversation.

“I know it must have been a shock, and I know you don’t handle stress well initially, but I don’t understand why the thought of being pregnant with my baby would make you sick.” Henry said to the ceiling.

Lucy slid out of bed. “Where are you going?” Henry asked, sitting up concerned.

“I’m just getting my robe,” she said, sliding on the black satin hanging on the closet door. “This isn’t a conversation I want to have naked.” She explained, before coming back to sit cross legged next to him on the bed. She took her pillow and put it in her lap to fidget with while she talked.

“You know I’m a planner?” She asked.

Henry smiled, “Yes, I had noticed that about you.”

“Well that positive result was something I didn’t know how to plan, for all the reasons I already told you. My mind was racing and a thousand different thoughts went through my head all at once: He’s going to think I’m trying to trap him! No he won’t but how’s he going to deal with this? Do we get married? Do we not? That would go over big in my world. And if we do get married, where do we live? What do I do? Would I be able to work? How do I deal with the paparazzi? How do I deal with the paparazzi with a baby? Twins run in mom’s family. That’s 2 babies at once! But those twins haven’t manifested in a few generations, so does that mean I’ll have like quadruplets?! That’s 4 babies! Then I definitely won't be able to work! And we’ll have to hire a nanny! She can’t be a young woman, look how well that worked for Sienna Miller! Then it would have to be an old woman, and she’ll probably judge me! And you’ll resent me for shackling you with 4 kids, and you’d leave me! And I’d be a single mom with 4 kids!” Lucy babbled, her hands flailing about wildly with each new layer added to her stream of consciousness ramble.

“No wonder you vomited, I wanted to vomit hearing that tirade.”

“I tend to go to worst case scenario first, then when I can convince myself that that's not actually going to happen, I can start with more realistic ideas.”

Henry laughed before leaning in to give her a lingering kiss, meant to soothe her overworked nerves.

“Now, let’s unpack that ‘worst case scenario’ as you call it. I know you wouldn’t try to trap me with a pregnancy, but I would want to be married by the time the baby came. We would have to discuss where we would live. As far as the press are concerned, you remember Will, that’s his job to help us handle the press and especially the press around a baby. Remember I have an entire team of people that make my life run smoothly, and as long as you’re in my life, they’re there to make your life smoother as well.” He pulled Lucy into his arms. “I would be thrilled if we had twins. I’m not sure about quadruplets, but I think anyone would panic about 4 babies at the same time.” He laughed. “And nannies are just a way of life, if we had a baby, and if you wanted a nanny, we would decide together.” He pushed Lucy away far enough to look her in the eyes “But you know that I would never be unfaithful to you.” He said seriously.

Lucy threw her arms around his neck, holding him close. “Oh, Henry. I do know that. I don’t think you’d cheat on me. Like I said, my brain goes to the worst case first.”

“I still wish you’d told me at the time. I don’t like the idea that you’re keeping things from me.”

“That’s something I need to work on. I’ve been on my own for so long, I have myself convinced that I don’t need anyone. I can do everything myself. But I’ll make more of an effort to not do everything for myself. There’s two of us in this relationship.”

“Yes there are. Thank god, because through you can do everything for yourself, and that’s something I’d like a front row seat for, I”m really glad you let me help you.” He murmured suggestively in her ear, before tickling her.

When they were a breathless heap on the bed, Lucy asked the question she’d really been wondering since the kids issue arose. “Henry, how many kids do you want?”

“I think I’d be happy having as many as we had, but I grew up in a big family. It always felt like there was never enough time for everyone. I was lucky, Piers is 10 years older than me, so he was already grown and at school when I was really young, but when everyone was home, it was quite chaotic. How many do you want?”

“I think two, maybe three, but no more than three, after that you’re doing less raising, more crowd control.” Henry’s laugh rumbled through the room.

After several quiet minutes, Lucy pondered, “Do you think if we had a boy, he’d have your curls?”

“If we had a girl would she have your eyes?” Henry wondered.

They spent the rest of the day decorating Lucy’s house for Christmas. Periodically one of them would ask aloud, would a baby have your, and insert body part or feature here. Lucy hated seeing him off at the airport the next day. The separation was hard, but she felt closer to him than when he’d arrived. She was counting the days until Christmas, when they would be together again.

Chapter 25           Chapter 27

[yunasightx]

Names and Puzzle Pieces( aka , give me the Mcmercy fam fluff!))

(Behold this monster that has literally been sitting on my flash drive for a over a year and a half. I have no excuse for this fic besides the fact that I’m a sucker for wholesome expecting family fluff— and that goes double for this pair. Literally.)

Disclaimer:

As I stated before, this fic has been sitting around for a while .. so I really did not go through it with an ultra fine tooth comb (( and is also the reason why there are some characters, like Moria, who are not mentioned even though they have a strong relation to members of the original Overwatch---  especially in regards to Mercy and Mccree’s past. They simply were not around at the time when I wrote the bulk of this. I added Brigitte in last minute though , because it was a bit easier to mention her....and i may also ship her with a certain rocket-jump gal ))I did try my best, but I really just wanted to get it over with. So, apologies for Iand grammar issues. I may go back to edit later if I see anything insanely obvious.

In the meantime, happy reading and enjoy! ))

Tornborjn,

I just looked over the schematics you sent me. So far, the upgrade looks promising – but I’m a little concerned about stress the additional weight and momentum might put on the joints in Fig 4.  Reinhart is not  as young as he use to be  ( despite what he might boast about) , and while an extra booster might help the Crusader Suit have a little bit more of the “OOMPH” the two of you are looking for …. Osteoporosis is not just something that is exclusive to women.   Which reminds me…. I believe you are overdue for your yearly physical as well, Bärchen  <3.

Angela

Ps. I highlighted the issues I think need a second glance.  Maybe we can get lunch next Tuesday to look them over?  I have been craving grilled fish and sriracha something terrible lately.

Angela read over the email one last time, checking for the usual typos and general grammatical errors, before hitting the send button.  The email blipped out of existence from her computer screen leaving only the  default Overwatch logo quietly staring back at her.

The doctor leaned back in her chair with a content sigh, “Well, one thing down…. Several more to go.” She had spent the whole morning cleaning out her (what always appeared to be) constantly full inbox; replying to and sending out correspondences to anyone and everyone who had questions and concerns for the Head Doctor of the reinstated global peacekeeping organization. Angela supposed she could have been fielding most of them off to an intern, or even asked Athena for assistance, but she liked being proactive in things ---- and truth was… she needed SOMETHING to do for the next couple of months.

Angela glanced over to her Valkyrie Suit which stood like marble statue between the two pristine white and glass shelves behind her desk  while her hand came up to rest on her still- rounding  stomach.   The lighting of the room gave the enameled white coating a soft iridescent glow and illuminated  rest of the black, orange and gold details.  The sight of it rising over the back of her chair, even with the wings powered off, as someone walked into her pristine office was something  that she knew bordered on spiritual

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss the adrenaline, the rush, and energy of being on the field ,or being actively involved in something ; but while the she would always be incredibly proud of her first child ---- at the moment she now had other lives she had to care for first.

And she knew the others were in good hands; Lucio and Zenyatta were newer to the life style of being a Overwatch Field medic , but so far they had shown enough promise that most of Mercy’s fears had been eased.  And dear darling Brigitte had taken the helm of that group in stride after dealing with patching up Reinhardt for years. They often came to her for advice, and she was very happy with how far all of them had come since joining Overwatch.

Angela actually had the sneaking suppression that donning the Valkyrie suit for so long was the reason why her pregnancy had been going so smoothly —for the most part— in the first place . The results weren’t completely definitive, but it seems wearing and handling experimental bio- nanotechnology over a long period of time had had some unforeseen side effects.  One of which  being what basically boiled down to slowing down the aging of Angela’s cells. It wasn’t much, just a under a decade in difference to her chronological age—-she would still age, she just wouldn’t have to worry about things like grey hair , wrinkles , mammograms, and arthritis as soon as everyone else.

Ana had joked the she should retire and just sell her product to  a home-shopping network  as the newest “anti-aging skin care line” --- then buy a nice little vacation home in Hawaii for her , McCree and the little ones ( with an extra guest house  for their favorite “Nana”, of course).

But, Mercy knew that at nearly Thirty-Nine years of age she should have expected a myriad of complications with getting pregnant, at least naturally ---- especially with both her and McCree starting to push forty. So, when it had happened after their first try… it had come as a bit of shock.  She and Jesse had talked about the possibility of children, the idea of growing their family just a little, but they had still had gone into the whole thing with a mindset of “if it happens, it happens”.

And when they discovered it they would be having twins….

Well, Mercy made a note to add gynecology and fertility research to her ever growing list.  After she had to pick McCree off the floor that is.

But, aside from three and a half months of nightmarish morning sickness and the never ending whiplash of weird cravings, everything had been progressing surprisingly well.

Well… almost everything.  

Angela’s thoughts broke off when she felt what was quickly becoming familiar fluttering of movement pushing against the palm of her hand.  She laughed and lightly rubbed her fingers over the spot, “I guess nap time is over , hmm?” She hummed. She felt another little persistent nudge and sighed, “Right..... back to work!”  

Angela braced her hands against the armrests and pushed away from her desk, before awkwardly hauling herself back to her feet; grunting as her center of gravity and new constantly-changing weight shifted back to her pelvis as her very round stomach curved out in front of her and her lower back arched in.

Angela knew she was surprising large, even with twins.  She looked more like she was nearing the tail end of her third trimester with one child, rather than twenty weeks with two.

She had given up trying to button her lab coat and pants weeks ago, and forgot the last time she had been actually able to see her feet (were her toes still painted sky blue?  Or was it lilac? Rustic orange ? The world will never know. )  Now, she just opted for breathable tunic dresses and a nice pair of stretchy leggings with her favorite pair of flats  ——and when she was home, she all put lived in Jesse’s flannel shirts ( but, she had the feeling even they wouldn’t fit for much longer either at this rate..)    

She thought about the closet of cute, but sensible new maternity wear Ana , Lena, Brigitte and Pharah had eagerly  helped her shop for  just a few weeks ago (with the former captain letting Mercy know she should be very thankful she didn’t have to be stuck with horrible fashion styles that were around when she was having Pharah… or the lack there of).  She felt a bit guilty that she was growing out of them so quickly.

Then again….. technically the twins were farther along than twenty weeks.  At least, from a gestational stand point.

That was other thing . The other unforeseen side effect of donning her Valkyrie suite for so long and so often.  Besides slowing down her ownaging, somehow the twins were growing at a slightly accelerated rate.  Not insanely or supernaturally fast, but every test her and Winston had run had proven they were consistently three weeks ahead of any  normal development.

Mercy had gone back and doubled, even tripled checked her math, but it was hard to mistake the night that led to all of this.  It was enough of an oddity that even though there had been no other complications, both of them agreed to err on the side of caution and treat her as a usual High-risk case and closely monitor her and the babies’ progress.  

Angela huffed and braced one hand against her lower back as the other started rubbing circles along her upper right side, hoping to dislodge whoever decided to jam themselves between her spleen and ribcage. She waddled over to her stainless steel work station by the large glass wall that ran the length of the room and looked out into the hallway between her and the panoramic windows that viewed  the deep shimmering blue waters of the Alboran Sea.  She picked up the tablet she had left there and pulled up her own medical file, along with half- a- screen’s worth of notifications of upcoming appointments and tests.  The lab results from her latest round of blood tests had just come in; most of her levels were fine, except her iron levels which were a tad little low (Angela rolled her eyes at that. Of course, Jesse’s spawn would be as obsessed with red meat as their father.)

She quickly scrolled through the rest of the results, then sent them and the reminded of her next ultrasound away with a flick of her fingers before pulling up several medical files and the list of Overwatch agents who she still had to hound down for the yearly physical.  Thankfully, a majority of the list was already highlighted in bright blue, but there were still a handful of names in red ---and most of those she didn’t even need to look at to know who was dragging their feet to the medical wing.

Let’s see…..Genji came in for his exam Monday, so he’s done. Hanzo was on time, as always.  Lena is tomorrow—I’ll need to remind Winston about that.   Mercy tapped Tracer’s name and informed Athena to let her fellow scientist know about his needed assistance.

“Shall I also remind Winston that it is time for his exam as well, Dr. Ziegler?” The AI suggested helpfully.

Mercy laughed, “No, I don’t think that will be necessary.  I’ll just recruit Lena to help me hold him down, you know how he can be.”

The AI let out a slightly computerized sigh, “Unfortunately, all too well I’m afraid.”

I will  probably have to drag Torbjorn here myself after lunch next week …And I will probably have to ask Ana , Pharah, and Brigette to help with Reinhart, The doctor sighed as she turned back to her list, her fingers  briefly hovering over the names that were blocked out in black---- the white lettering spelling out the identities as sharp and finite as a row of marble headstones on a dark lawn.  The files had been pulled over with the rest when Athena had backed up the old medical records from the original Overwatch.

Gerard Lacroix --- Deceased

Jack Morrison --- Deceased

Gabriel Reyes --- Deceased

Ana’s name had also recently been shrouded in the mournful color, but she had given her blessing to correct the outdated file. Her active status was now in the same bright cobalt blue as her daughter’s name near the top --- although, she had objected to also having her “Captain” title receiving the same treatment.

“I’m retired now, malak. These old bones aren’t fit to keep babysitting you brats all the time. Just leave me in the back with the rest of the old timers, and we’ll bail you kids out when you’ve finished having your fun.”

“76” on the other hand refused to go by any other name---- no matter how hard Angela or the others tried to convince him to reconsider, the old solider stubbornly refused to budge.

“The commander of Overwatch died at the Swiss base.  If you want him, you can find him six feet under his tombstone in Arlington.”

As for the last two names….. well… despite their best advancements and research even science couldn’t truly bring back the dead.

And even then……….. Angela was not sure she would ever cross that line.  She had toed it with Genji, even the very reasoning behind her own nanotechnology research flirted with that perilous edge …

But sometimes, the line between Man and God was drawn for a reason, and the price that asked was just too much to handle. You could make life, mend it, repair it if need be ----but you could not return light to a candle that no longer had a wick to burn.

Enough of that, Ziegler. Angela shook her head to clear her thoughts, and leave the past where it was supposed to be.  She scrolled through the rest of the names until she came to one very familiar name that she wasn’t surprised was still in red.  

“What am I going to do with him?” Angela sighed and tapped opened the file, so focused that she missed the metallic jingle of spurs and confident clomp cowboy boots sneaking up behind her.

“Boo.”

Angela jumped in surprise when two arms grabbed her from behind and that mischievous, honey-whiskey -warm voice smirked against the back of  her ear.  She shot a pointed look over her shoulder ( which lacked any real bite), but Jesse just greeted her with one of his charming smiles---- completely unapologetic as he leaned down and placed a kiss on the back of her shoulder as both of his hands drifted down to the sides of her stomach.  

“How’re y’all doin’?”  

Angela could feel his warm chuckle and smile against her skin when he felt one of the twins jab at the underside of his human palm,  “Well, that one definitely takes after me. Not even out yet, and already tryin’ to start a fight.”

Angela rolled her eyes, but there was smile on her face as she turned her head and kissed his cheek. He had trimmed his beard a little bit from the wild bush he had during his vigilante days, and his hair was back to the style he had it during the prime of his days in Blackwatch .  It was still unkempt and disheveled as ever, but Angela has always liked that length on him. And Jesse said he finally got sick having it stick to the back of his neck in the blistering heat and finding beard hairs in his whiskey.

“Did you just get back?” She could still smell the salt, sea spray, and limestone of Ilios on him, along with a bit of gunpowder and a little bit of nicotine.   Jesse had reluctantly agreed to cut back on the smoking when they decided to try to start a family (only because she had  threatened that he would have to bunk with Genji , Hanzo and Zenyatta  for the next  eighteen  years  if he so much as thought about lighting up around her or the children) , but when he was out on assignment he still smoked at a cigar or two. Mercy was at least grateful he wasn’t smoking a pack a day anymore.

He had cut back on drinking too. Genji had mostly been the one to thank for that----he and Zenyatta had been helping Jesse slowly deal with his demons over the last year and a half.  For the youngest Shamada, it was the least he could do for his former Blackwatch brother and very dear friend, and the two now had a bond that went deeper than just former coworkers.

It was nice to see both of them smile so easily again.

Eventually, the two of them ganged up on her;  and while she originally dug in her heels and refused to acknowledge the parts of  her that she shoved and locked away in deep  into the shadows, far away from anyone else (her failures, her regrets , guilt and blame and what ifs)  ……it didn’t take a neuro scientist to know that something besides her work or adjustments to her suit was keeping her awake all night. And her heart was so much lighter for it.

“Just docked”,Jesse pressed another kiss against her shoulder before lifting his head a bit and resting his chin there with a deep content hum, “Figured I’d hide out here for a bit before having to face the paperwork.” He wrapped his arms under her stomach to pull her into his warmth, “Don’t think I’ll be able to keep doing this for much longer. What are ya feedin’ these kids ,Angie?”

Angela smacked his arm ,”Burgers and sriracha. And I wonder who I can thank for that.”

“Hey, don’t pick on me. I remember those paper bags you tried hiding under your desk,’ Miss McDonalds’.”

“It was Wendy’s.” Angela said automatically, not even phased about Jesse calling her out on her old guilty pleasure.

“Yeaaaaaaaahh,” Jesse drawled out with a lazy smirk that she could feel curl against her neck , “ but you’re gonna be stuck with a bunch ol McCrees so I figured it was more fitting.”

“Who said they were going to be “McCrees”?”

Angela had to bite down on her tongue from laughing as the charming “I’m winning this round” smirk slipped right off the gunslinger’s face.

“That ain’t very nice, Angel. Don’t be mean.”

“I am not being mean,” Angela had to try very to keep her voice clinical and matter-of-fact , instead of breaking out into the giggles that tickled in her throat. She knew it wasn’t nice to tease him like this, but it was cute when he pouted. “Technically, we are not married so—“

“And you told me you didn’t want that right now,” Jesse pulled away, and Angela knew instantly that she went too far.   Frustration mixed with the jet lag and three sleepless nights of clearing out stubborn Talon agents from Greek ruins that lined the cowboy’s shoulders, giving him a wounded look that was worse than any bullet to her heart.

She knew without asking what his plan had been the moment he stepped on to the helipad---- a nice cold drink, kick off those dumb boots, and to spend the rest of a quite afternoon with the woman and mother of his children who had basically stolen his heart almost twenty-two years ago.  

“ I offered it to you, but you said it wasn’t necessary. That is just a dumb piece of pa----“

Angela swallowed the rest of his argument by reaching out and pulling his head down to kiss him sweetly, putting a cooling balm on his temper.  He seemed to have gotten the message because his shoulders instantly relaxed under her hands as his went to her widened hips and he shook his head with a gravely sigh, “I really don’t like how easily you can get under my skin like that sometimes, woman.”

She shook her head and gave him another kiss before pulling back and reaching up to apologetically smooth back his hair, pushing back a laugh when he tried to puller closer but her stomach got in the way, “ No, that was a terrible attempt of a joke. I shouldn’t have said it.”

Jesse had always been the more emotional one between them; the sentimental, passionate, and sweet parts of their relationship --- a simmering slow southern day outside of Sante Fe. Even after all these years, she still had trouble accepting that when Jesse McCree loved you  he did it absolutely, openly,  and without holding anything back----it was all or nothing for him.

When she thought back on it, Angela realized she never stood a chance.

For Jesse, a ring and wedding was more than just a tradition.  It wasn’t a claim on her, or a way “to keep her an honorable woman” and their children from being born under questionable circumstances or the hundreds of other reasons people have married for over the thousands and thousands of years of human history.

It was a promise. One of the most important ones he could ever give, besides his oath to Reyes and Amari when they offered him a rank in Overwatch ----a chance to do something worthwhile and good.

Angela just didn’t know if she was worthy of that promise just yet.  

She still had moments where she worried if she could do this.  If they could really could do this. That whisp of doubt that had spread and thrived in the shadow of the ruins and rubble of the old Overwatch.  In the shadow of her every regret and helplessness and weakness when everything she held dear crumbled right through her fingers. The one thing she could never heal and fix.  

Those names flickered in her mind again.

....The names of those she failed to support.

But, she was more than willing to try.

As silly, confounding, confusing, reckless, and dramatic as her cowboy was ----she never really thought the idea of spending the rest of her life question her sanity around him sounded bad. Even back before the old Swiss base had been nothing but a pile of bitter-sweet memories, secrets, and rubble. Before they had answered Winston’s recall……and then decided to try to pick up the pieces each of them had been carefully tucking away during the years in between.

They weren’t puzzle pieces that fit together, but------

“ I think McCree is a lovely name,” Angela hummed as she pressed her lips to his cheek, just along the curve of the dark circles under his right eye, “ I also think you should have gotten more sleep. No offense, Jesse, but you look dead on your feet. And I am the doctor who is pregnant with twins.”

The cowboy gave a resigned sigh and sank down into a nearby chair, pulling her with him and across his lap since his arms had tried to find their way around her waist again. She placed her tablet down on the counter and shifted to make herself more comfortable, placing her hands over his as they followed the faint movements of the twins hands, knees, elbows, and etc  pressing against her sides.  “Just give this old cowboy a few minutes, Ange.  I missed you somethin’ fierce out there,” He muttered against her skin as he rested his forehead against her shoulder again.

“You really should be taking better care of yourself.”

The gunslinger gave a soft chuckle at the old scolding that had lost its intentional bite years ago, “Acknowledged”.

Angela knew Jesse had a terrible time sleeping when he was away on assignment these days;  which was more than unusual because she couldn’t think of a place at the Swiss base where someone had not seen him napping with his hat over his face and his boots probed up on a random surface. It would not have  be long before said hat was slapped off, and he was dragged off by his ear  for laps by a very grumbly Gabriel Reyes to burn off all that extra energy he had obviously been storing up.

“And just what are you smiling about?”

Mercy came out of the past, and shook her head at Jesse who was watching her with an amused smile before she settled against his him with her head on his shoulder, “ Nothing, just some silly memories. I can prescribe  you some minor sleep aids if you think that would help.”

The main reason for Jesse restlessness out on the field was because when his mind didn’t have to be focused on a gunfight, it was right back here with her and the twins.  It wasn’t so bad in the beginning, but as her pregnancy progressed the little fear of something happening when he might be several time zones away kept knawing itself a nice little home at the back of his mind---- like a mouse chewing its way through a baseboard.

Nightly phone calls and face -time sessions helped reassure him that Talon had not attacked the base,  Hana had not accidentally shut down the entire power grid by rigging up a super computer for gaming, and Winston did not turn her or the children into a tubs of peanut butter ( “………have you been drinking with Winhelm and Torbjorn again?”  “……No, but I did have some kind of weird Japanese fish dish Genji made.” )

Even then ,Hanzo had taken up  Mercy’s position of McCree’s common sense out on the field --- taking away the gunslinger’s phone so the bright LED screen didn’t give away their position when he kept checking in every five minutes as bullets whizzed by their heads.

Jesse gave a tired sigh as he raised his head and rest his chin on the crown of her head as he drew in closer, “I’ll be fine. I just need you and our bed , and maybe a hot toddy to dull the edge. I’m home now, that’s all that matters.”

Home.  After how many years that word did hurt to think about anymore.  

The two of them stayed like that for a while. Forgetting about emails and exams and desks full of paperwork, and just trying to enjoy this moment of absolute suspended moment of peace like a sip of Angela’s homemade hot chocolate or Jesses favorite aged whiskey.

If she closed her eyes she could almost smell the air of the Swiss alpines again, feel concrete lightly bite the backs of her thighs and the warm weight of a young gunslinger’s arm and serape around her shoulders as her knees dangled over the side of roof while  she and Jesse watched the sun rise over the base.  Watching as the light and sky started out deep and rich and slowly turned golden, blinding and bright.

Almost….. if it weren’t the constant movement jostling her insides.

“They don’t like keeping still, do they?”, Jesse grinned, his hands were tracking them across her stomach again,  eagerly moving from her sides and resting just below her navel now. He looked down at her, eyes lined with jet lagged and some residual signs of his drinking and smoking lifestyle--- but still the same soft and lively molten brown she first seen at seventeen.  

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Angela tilted her head up and teasingly nipped the tip of his nose.  

“ Hmmm….. How long are you goin’ to be cooped up in here? I was thinking you, me, some nice seared steak and pasta, and ---“

“If you even think about mentioning another one of your western movies again, Jesse, I am just going stay here and sleep in one of the med bay beds tonight.”

“…….Well, now who’s jumping the gun? I was goin’ to suggest that one old timey pirate movie Ana use to play all the time during break nights.”

“…….I’m sure you were, cowboy.”

Jesse held his hands up in surrender, “Alright, alright. You get to pick the movie tonight. Just don’t make it one of those boring educational flicks again. I’d like to be able stay awake with you tonight.”

“You liked the last few I’ve selected,” Angela pointed out, rubbing at her side to calm down whichever twin was unhappy bout suddenly being ignored.

“Yeah, well one of those was about those murders in Victorian London.  Of course that’s going to keep my interest.  But seriously Angie, as much as I want to know about what’s going on with you  and the kids, “ The Gestational Process and Bonding  of the Human Species  ; From Conception to Birth And Beyond”  isn’t exactly what I would call a “date night movie”.”

“……That is a fair point,” Angela relented, “ I just thought you would like it since you have pretty much checked out every single book we have about pregnancy in the library, and have  hounded Ana,Torbjorn, Winston and I with questions.  You even had Hanzo buy them for you in town.”

She watched as her cowboy turned a nice shade of pink under his beard, “ ….You weren’t supposed to know about that.”

“Jesse….” Angela chucked endearingly as she brushed his hair out of his eyes, “ Libeling, it’s been kind of hard not to.  But, it is sweet ----- a bit annoying sometimes, but it’s been a pleasant surprise.”

Jesse looked down at his hands, which had gone back to her middle, gently circling his thumb over the back of her hands. His voice was soft, almost unsure, like he was slowly trying to figure out an new language and did not want to mince up the words “ …..I’m just a fish out of water with all of this. I never thought I would ever have a shot at something like this. That it wasn’t in the cards for me with the shit show our lives became after everything.   But, God, did I want …… I don’t deserve an inch of you ,Ange. I  sure didn’t back then and I’m not sure I do----“

Angela kissed him before the raw emotion leaking into his voice broke both of them in two.  It was safe to say this was uncharted territory for both of them; two orphans who only had faded fragments of their own parents and a mismatch patchwork quilt they called family that had been made, ripped and repaired over the years as a reference.

There were a thousand things she wanted to tell him right then, but she would save that for when they were not surrounded by the cold, sterile, and professional environment of the med bay and her office.  She wanted to be wrapped up in one of his flannel shirts and his arms first.

“I do have something for you,”  She reached for her tablet and pulled up the file she had been saving for when he got back.

Jesse groaned the second end moved her arm, “ Angel…look, I know I’m due for that blasted checkup, but do you really—“

“You can relax, it’s not your physical. ..Yet.  I will be getting you for that later,” Angela handed him the tablet and watched as one of his eye brows raised at the sight of her name and date of birth at the top of the page. She offered him a sheepish smile, “ I know you wanted to be there, but I’m afraid Winston got the dates mixed up.  No one else knows about it yet…..but I thought it would be a nice surprise for you when you got back.”

She could barely hide her excitement  as his eyes flitted down past all the medical information and jargon the he did not understand, and landed on the one part of the report that was impossible to mistake.  She had to bite down on the corner of her lip to keep from beaming at him when his brown eyes went wide and looked between her, the tablet and back again. It was one of the few time she had seen the bombastic cowboy struck speechless,  “ …Both?”

Angela nodded, finally letting herself smile,“ Both. One of each. I guess that means we’re done after this.”

But,Jesse seemed to have missed her joke as he quickly set the tablet back down and demanded to know which twin was where. Angela laughed as she guided the one hand to where their son was trying to cozy up to her ribs again, and the other to where their daughter has kicked his hand earlier.  “ They do move , but I think that’s where they are for the most part, “ Angela titled her head as she took in the suddenly  serious look crossing on Jesse’s face that he only got when he was trying to whip a strategy during a mission , “Is something the matter, Libeling?”

“….. Figuring out how much I’m gonna have to stock up on ammo for when they get older. Maybe finally talk Torb into installing that finger gu-”

“Jesse Leon McCree!” Angela’s glare cut through his thought faster than one of her laser- guided scalpels, “For the last time, I am not installing finger guns into your prosthetic!”

“I didn’t say you, now did I?”

“ Torbjorn won’t do it either. I already warned him I would revoke his honorary grandfather card if I ever caught him with schematics.”

“ Awwwww, come on! That ain’t fair, Angel!” Jesse whined. “ How else am I supposed to scare idots away from little Annie when she gets older?”

“Are you thrity-nine or nine…? And I am sure you will come up with something. Also, we are not naming out children after wild- west outlaws.”

“…Dam.. I was sittin’ on that one for a while,” Jesse looked at her again, “ What about-“

“No.”

Jesse jutted out his lower lip and looked at her with those big puppy gold-brown eyes that had been bane of her existence for the last twenty- something years.  ….But, she would be lying to herself if said she wasn’t at least a little bit happy that genetics promised that there was a very good chance at their children would have his eyes as well.

“Fineeeeeeeee,” Jesse sighed when he realized he wasn’t going to win their  little stalemate, although there is more than a hint of a whine to it, “What about “Fenrir” for the boy then?  That’s something you’ve always liked.”

“Oh mein got!” Angela rolled her eyes, “Out of all the Norse myths I have told you, of course that’s the one you remember.”

“What? We could call him “Fen”,” Jesse pointed out innocently.  

“You do remember that Loki is the one who gave birth to him, don’t you?”, Angela pointed out with a sigh, “ Only you would want to name your son after the eater of the world and killer of Odin? How about “Tyr”?” She tapped  her finger nail against the scared- up skull engraved into the metal plating of his bionic arm. “The god of Justice. That seems a bit more fitting. “

Jesse watched her hand with a little smirk as he leaned his head against her shoulder again. They might have been playfully arguing about names, but she had never seen him look so content.  The look in his expression said it all… ….he held his entire world in his arms.  “Eh, it’s not as cool. Any kid of ours is going to be hell –in- a- hand basket and an angel all-in-one, they need a name goes with it.”

“I think it’s just in your nature to -- how do you Americans say it----“  Go Big or Go Home”?” Angela laughed as Jesse gently, but playfully pulled her closer against his chest, his hands resting on her hip as his lips grinned against her forehead and his beard tickling between her eyes

“Yep ,sounds like me. I’ve always dreamed big---- how else could I have gotten as lucky to end up with someone like you? You don’t get chosen by an angel just by waiting around and twiddling your thumbs.”

Angela rolled her eyes as she shifted in the cowboy’s lap as their daughter let her know she didn’t like being squished between them by trying to kick elbow her pancreas. Jesse’s hands instantly went to the spot and circled his fingers to apologize.

They were going to be fine.

“Well…..I do have one name in mind… ,”Angela hesitated.  She wasn’t quite sure how Jesse would react to her suggestion. She still didn’t know how she completely felt about it.  

It had started as a little idea that had just popped up in the back of her mind the moment the blood tests had confirmed everything, like one of the single little cells their children had started out as.  At first, she just shook it off as an impossible notion, just the increasing hormones her body being annoying ; but like Jesse, it just hunkered down and refused to budged until she begrudgingly paid attention to it.

It was name that had weight to it, memories and heartbreak. But, she knew it was a name that meant a lot to Jesse… and even herself and many others in their little rag tag family.  And the more she had thought about it, each week the name just sounded a little more right.  Her mind went back to the list of names of those she had failed to save.  

You could not return life to can candle that no longer had a wick , but the scent of the wax would always linger.

“Gabriel.”

She carefully watched his face as her stomach squirmed in a way that had nothing to do with her tumbling twins or morning sickness.  It only took a few moments, but it felt life time as she watched the confusion on his face melt into surprise then something so soft and speechless that she wasn’t sure if she wanted to smile or cry herself.

For now she would blame it on the hormones.

“I like it, Darlin’,” His voice was soft, like a warm camp-fire on a cool night as he reached up and tucked her side swept bang behind her ear. “ … Thank you.”  

She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand as his callused and tanned finger s trailed over her cheek, still the same as they had always been despite all the years.  They still felt like home.

“There is nothing to thank me for, Liebling. “

“…. I still want Fen as a first name though.”

Angela gave a heavy sigh, Andddddddd there went the moment,“ Do not make me kick you out of my office .“

Jesse just gave her another smug and charming smirk that made his right eye twinkle, “Gotta come up with a better bluff than that, Sugarbee. I’m your favorite pillow.”

“Well, since you are here ,Darlin..” She drawled a little too innocently , “ I do have a long list of overdue shots with your name on it.”

The cowboy blanched and Angela just gave him his smirk right back before breaking down into a smile and leaning forward to kiss him as he huffed against her mouth and pulled her as close as her stomach would allow. “ Woman, I swear there is devil in those angel eyes sometimes.”

No, they were not puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together ---  there were too many broken edges that had been worn and dented over the years.  They were more like pieces of a shattered glass that had been put together into a mosaic.  Something that was a little old and new at the same time , fractured and whole…  and made something  wonderful and beautiful when the light shone through.

[steverogersnotebook]

Neighbors - Someone to Look Up to

NEIGHBORS

TJ Hammond and Steve Rogers (between TWS/CW) are neighbors who, after trying to find comfort on sleepless nights through baking and music, have forged a lasting friendship.

(my inbox is open for ideas, prompts and headcanons)

NEIGHBORS fluff | gen [platonic friendships] / Steve & TJ Hammond [SERIES of oneshots]

Many thanks to @avenger-nerd-mom for the idea behind this snippet (as well as her continued cheer-leading)

TJ let himself into Steve’s apartment, looked around the orange, brown, and black autumn decorations and saw why he’d heard the muffled “come in” when he’d rang. Steve was in an orange t-shirt and a black apron with a full-sized skeleton, and he was piping icing onto cookies.

“Um,” TJ hesitated, cleared his throat, and started again, “I hate to tell you this, because you look like you’re having a great time with those spooky cookies.”

“What?” Steve flicked his eyes toward TJ, not moving a muscle as his hand hovered over the latest perfect pumpkin cookie in the lineup. The piping bag stilled and a line of royal icing dangled from the tip.

“Well,” TJ’s voice rose an octave. “Parents don’t trust homemade treats. There have been too many urban legends about poison and people believe them. Then there are the dozen or so cases of pins or needles found in treats, which have clinics offering free x-rays of candy bags.”

“Why does everything have to be so –” Steve looked a bit deflated, and TJ felt terrible for opening his mouth.

“Shitty? I don’t know.”

“Why even do any of it then?” Steve set the piping bag to the side and broke the cookie in half that the stray icing fell onto. “Test cookie?”

“Yes, please. You know? Kids still get excited, they don’t typically know anything about the shitty stuff. Parents like to let ‘em dress up and they do the routine without making a big deal. I’m sure you can hand out cookies to the kids we know, whose parents know you. The rest we can take to the retirement home down the block. Unless you just wanna eat them all.”

“I’m sure I have a volunteer for that mission.” Steve smiled. “Y’ know, Ma used to call dressing up guising, she’d make soul cakes and she called trick-or-treating souling. It wasn’t ‘til I met Bucky that I knew that and trick-or-treating were one and the same.”

“Since you spend most of your life dressing up, have you decided not to?”

“Nope. I have a costume.”

“Oh really?” TJ asked around the bite of cookie. “I’m shocked. Or am I looking at it?”

“An actual costume. How about you?”

“I used to go to parties, not house-to-house. They were too busy for that. We did have a party once, at the farm. Apple bobbing, ghost stories around a bonfire, hay rides and scarecrows – please tell me you’re not going as a scarecrow?”

“Scared?” Steve laughed, before pulling back. “Sorry. If you’re scared – I mean…”

“As terrified as others are of clowns,” TJ laughed. “My brother was an idiot. He got his friends to prank me with a scarecrow. When I freaked out, he laughed and decided I should be a crow for Halloween or, as he put it, ‘a fraidy cat’.”

“Rest easy, it’s not a scarecrow. Or a clown. By the way, I was asking about your costume. Not that I’m not interested in your Halloween stories, because I am.”

“Oh, I might have to pick a different one,” TJ hesitated. Steve’s expectant look prodded him to continue. “I was actually going to be Tinkerbell.”

“Why would you have to pick a different costume? I hope you don’t think I’d judge something as important as self-expression?”

“I’m sure others will pick up the slack.”

“Do you have the costume? Maybe more important, do you have the legs for it?”

TJ laughed, relieved that he had one friend who was on his side, and amused at the important question. “Hell, yeah, I’ve got the legs for it.”

“Then do it.” Steve picked up another cookie, this time with no icing, and broke it in half. He chuckled as he offered the cookie. “We’re gonna look like a couple.”

“You’re gonna be a super-buff Peter Pan?” TJ asked, taking the cookie half.

“Pirate. Not Hook, but…” Steve stopped as TJ busted up laughing.

“But there’s no difference once people see Tinkerbell.”

“Exactly. Are you expecting anyone you’d rather not have think you’re seeing someone?”

“Cute dads,” TJ said with a smirk. “Single cute dads, of course.”

“Of course.”

“My homewrecker days are through. You really believed the Tinkerbell thing, didn’t you?”

Steve returned to the cookie side of the island and pushed a bowl and tray in front of TJ. “Ice these and talk to me. You do know I tend to take you at your word, right? You wanna be a jealous little pixie, you got the legs for it, like you said.”

“If I’m targeting single, cute dads, I need to be a little less over the top. I do think about it every year, but I just don’t have the guts.”

“You should do it. You’ll either love it and be glad you did, or hate it and know you don’t want to do it again. The one thing you won’t have to do is worry about whether you can pull it off or not.”

TJ was quiet, thinking about advice that he might not get from anyone else, even Nana would caution him to be careful because of his mother and the press. He concentrated on the outlines for the ghost cookies, and pondered where he’d get a decent costume on short notice.

~•~Ѽ~•~

Steve rushed to the door, plastic pumpkin full of candies in one hand, he hesitated as his free hand touched the knob. Taking a deep breath, he opened it, expecting to see costumed kids. He smiled wide when he saw TJ had followed through with his costume idea. “TJ, come in.”

“Hey, you look like a real swashbuckler,” TJ said as he entered the apartment, taking in Steve’s costume and the plastic pumpkin.

“And you weren’t kidding about your legs,” Steve laughed. “Remember, I traveled with showgirls. I know a great pair of gams when I see ‘em.”

“Whoa, gams huh?” TJ chuckled along with Steve. “I keep forgetting you’re older than Nana. You shoulda gone for the noir gumshoe if you’re gonna talk like that.”

“I lived through that era.” Steve shook his head, “Besides, I always wanted to be a pirate, the closest I got was a pair of Buck’s shorts that went below my knees, one of Ma’s scarves tied around my waist, and a hankie on my head. I wanted some boots or a hat, but those were too extravagant. I did cut an eye patch out of paper and scribbled it black with a piece of charred wood. I hated it, it looked ridiculous.”

“Sounds adorable,” TJ disagreed. “Is this your dream costume then? Your hat is very – commanding.”

“It’s over the top. I’m considering changing into my uniform, either of them.”

“As much as I love a guy in uniform, keep the pirate get-up. It’s Halloween, not work. That’s just cheating you.”

Just then, the doorbell chimed and a chorus of “Trick or Treat!” trailed after it.

“I guess I don’t have a choice.” Steve shrugged. “Why is this so nerve wracking?”

“Want me to get the first one? You can see how it’s done.”

“No. I should be able to manage this. They’re kids.”

TJ smiled and stepped away from the door, resisting the urge to mess with the skirt of his costume, or his wig. The door opened to three little ones, six and under if TJ guessed it right. Their parents stood across the hall, watching the trio. His smile grew as he noticed the littlest one, hiding behind a slightly bigger Harry Potter. The child’s blue costume was a little too big.

TJ wondered if Steve had spotted the tiny version of himself yet, and he stifled a giggle as he thought about the idea that he’d just talked Steve out of donning his super suit. He got his answer the second Steve saluted the child and lowered himself to one knee to offer the kid their choice of candies.

“Captain, are you keeping these wizards safe? Or are they keeping you safe?”

The tyke pulled a plastic shield up to hide their face, covering all but part of one brown eye.

“I think either way, it’s a very good plan. How about some treats?” Steve asked, careful to give the kid space.

Once each bag was a handful of candy heavier, they said “Thank you” in a staggered chorus. Steve and TJ both waved and wished them a Happy Halloween before closing the door.

“You did great,” TJ offered as he walked to the front window. “Looks like there will be more in a bit, they’re a building away.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Steve admitted. “You hungry? I’d thought about ordering a pizza, but decided to put one in instead. It should be ready in a bit.”

“Next time I’m ordering out so you can sit and relax.”

“It’s relaxing.” When TJ gave him the look, Steve leaned against the arm of the sofa. “You’re right, make it a local place and not a chain, and you have a deal.”

“As if I didn’t know that by now. That Mini-Cap was pretty cute.”

“They were all cute,” Steve countered. “You know, I should have talked you out of that costume after all.”

“I can’t tell if you’re serious or not,” TJ turned away from the window. “Why?”

“After I talked you into it, I had a dream about the show I did back in the war, when I took off after Bucky. A soldier yelled from the jeering crowd ‘nice boots, Tinkerbell’.”

“Flashbacks? You should have called me.”

“It didn’t bother me – well – doesn’t bother me. I was just teasing. Your costume is impressive. I’m glad you didn’t give in to self-consciousness.”

“There were a couple of minutes there,” TJ sighed. He put his hand into the pumpkin bucket, shuffling the candies inside. “You got the good stuff. Full size? Trick or treat!”

Steve laughed, “there are several packages, I know there will be plenty of extras, help yourself.”

“I’m fine, I’m holding out for pizza and some of those cookies. Did you end up doing soul cakes too?”

“Nah,” Steve was interrupted by the ringing doorbell. “Just the ghosts and Jack-o’-lanterns.”

TJ snickered as the door opened to a little more than a half-dozen kids, ranging in age from elementary to middle school. The older kids had turned word puns into their costumes. TJ thought it might be interesting to make a game of it and keep score.

He was rethinking his plan as Steve guessed every single one. TJ barely managed to figure out the slender girl in the cottony cloud costume with pictures tucked into the fluff: The Cloud, and there was the one he himself couldn’t figure out at all. A boy wearing a ponytail wig, a Starbucks cup, and the letters ‘R’ and ‘E’ on his chest: Ariana Grande.

The small ones were dressed as a fire fighter, two witches, and Max from Where the Wild Things Are. TJ was impressed that the only correction Steve received was that the witches were ‘princess witches’.

As that group left, two visitors replaced them. a two-foot Hulk with an Iron-Dad had Steve’s face alight. Hulk showed his muscles and roared. He held up his plastic Hulk fists, which were bigger than his little head. Steve crouched in front of him, “Can you show me your best Hulk Smash?”

The little green guy punched Steve’s palm, Steve groaned and rolled backward. With a smooth somersault, he landed upright on his feet.

“That was one super smash!” Steve announced with a grin, while TJ applauded both performances. Iron-Dad had a very cute smile as he pulled off his mask, and TJ chewed his lip before smiling back.

Hulk roared again before taking the offered candy and saying, ‘thank you’.

“Would you like a homemade cookie?” TJ found his guts and started toward the island, perfectly aware of how good his ass and legs looked walking away. “When he’s not moonlighting as a pirate, my neighbor here, is a great baker.”

“Sure, sounds great.”

TJ wrote his number on the napkin before placing one of his best ghost cookies in the center. “What about Hulk?”

“Hulk has enough candy to keep him green for the rest of the year.”

“I’m not going to take all the credit for that cookie, TJ decorated the ghosts.” Steve winked at TJ as he put a few more candies in Hulk’s bucket.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Steve’s grin was beyond devilish when he closed the door behind the pair. “He deserves to know how talented you are.”

“I’m improving, after almost a year.”

“Well, just wait until he hears you play. You did give him your number?”

“I did.” TJ was beet red and trying not to smile. “You’re a decent wingman. Thanks. He’s a very cute dad. couldn’t tell if he was single, but…”

“He was clearly interested. Just make sure he is single, you told me you weren’t into homewrecking.”

“Okay, remind me never to tell you anything.”

“No way, you tell me everything.” Steve laughed as he answered the door to another Captain America, this one in a tutu with blonde curls poking out of her helmet. She’d brought Thor and Falcon along. “My goodness, it’s a night for Avengers! Did you guys see Iron-Man and Hulk?”

“No. Have they been here?” Little Miss Cap asked.

“You just barely missed them.” Steve nodded, again getting on level with the children. “Look at you all. You look just like the bigger versions.”

“Hulk wrestled the pirate for his,” TJ announced. “Which one of you thinks you can beat this scallywag?”

“Tinkerbell? Did mean ole Captain Hook kidnap you again?” Falcon asked eagerly, “I would fight him for that.”

“You’ve mistaken my friend for nasty old Hook? No, Captain Blond Beard is my friend.”

“Oh, good. He’s a pretty big pirate.” Falcon admitted.

“I love your Tinkerbell costume. You look really neat.” The quiet Thor finally said. “I wanted to be Black Widow, but my mom said I had to be one of the boy Avengers.”

“I happen to know someone who knows the Black Widow,” Steve said, sitting back on his heels. “I’m pretty sure she’d be flattered. I think she might disagree with your mom, but she’d tell you to do what keeps you safe. I also know that if we had her ask Thor, he’d agree.”

“I think the Captain has some good advice.” TJ agreed, watching as the kids took candy and said, ‘thank you’. He looked down the hall as the kids left, seeing a couple of parents at the end of the hallway. They seemed stunned when the kids caught up to them, engrossed in whatever they’d been talking about. “Well, at least the mother didn’t hear us giving the ‘you be you’ talk.”

“Well, you know I wouldn’t get into a discussion of that sort in front of the kids, but in adult company, I’d have a few things to say.”

“More kids, more Avengers.”

“What? Aren’t they tired of us yet?”

“Not gonna happen.” TJ grinned, holding the door as one family approached followed closely by a second. A pop star, several pun costumes, a couple of princesses, a princess cat, two pirates, Jedi and Sith, and more superheroes filled the night and emptied several buckets of candy, ate cookies, and enjoyed both TJ’s Tinkerbell and Steve’s pirate.

Once the knocks and doorbell rings had tapered off, Steve pulled the ‘treats’ sign from his door and locked up after what he’d determined would be their final visitor. He looked at TJ where he was sitting on the sofa. The pizza had been removed from the oven sometime during the festivities, and TJ was piling pieces onto plates.

“You really think people are going to tire of you and your team?” TJ asked, looking up at him through glitter tipped false eyelashes.

“You really think Iron-Dad isn’t going to call you?” Steve countered, falling onto the sofa next to TJ. He took the plate TJ handed him. “There sure were a lot of little Avengers. I lost count.”

“Twenty-nine. Including eight mini-yous. I hope Iron-Dad is single and doesn’t throw the napkin away before seeing my lame attempt at a pick-up.”

“You were so shy, you shoulda been Bashful. You know one of the dwarfs?” Steve teased as he took a bite of the cold – but still good – pizza.

“Hahaha! You’re very funny. I just didn’t want to upset the little green guy.”

“Wise.” Steve chuckled.

“You were so nervous when this started. How do you feel now that it’s ended?”

“Like I could eat a whole pizza and a few cookies.”

“You were having so much fun with the kids, you didn’t give yourself time to eat. Did you even sneak a candy bar?”

“No. I figured after all of the sample cookies earlier…”

“Don’t you even think of finishing that statement. I’m the one who’s had to increase gym time.”

“You don’t have to come up every time I tell you I’m baking.” Steve shrugged. He put a large piece of his pizza slice into his mouth and shrugged again.

“I don’t come for the baking.” TJ tossed his head back against the sofa cushion. “You do know that right? I don’t come because of your hero status or your famous name. Fame sucks.”

“It has its moments,” Steve agreed. “But seeing those kids, happy and excited. They think some guy in tights is worthy of a Halloween costume?”

“They do. They plan their costumes with excitement too. You know, kids get these things in their heads and they don’t think twice. I want to be Captain America, but I’m a girl? Ok, make it a skirt. It’s not about tights, and you don’t wear tights anymore. That’s a combat uniform and you know it.”

“Thank you, TJ. I really didn’t expect to see anybody dressed as me, and as weird as it is, it’s really –” Steve set his plate aside and laced his fingers together across his middle, gazing up at the ceiling before turning to look at TJ. “– it’s just flattering, you know?”

“Only when you’re someone to look up to. When you’re the president’s kid, it’s far from flattering. Especially when you’re the family disappointment.”

“Yeah –” Steve sighed, “– well, I look up to you. As for being the family disappointment? No. You were let down. You know your father’s history, you know your mother’s ambition. Consider, coming from those examples, and the neglect you experienced, you and your brother made it.” He looked at TJ, knowing an argument was imminent. “Better late than never, you know?”

“Thank you, Steve.”

“It’s the least I could do. You still wanna deliver cookies with me tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Yes, I do.”

“How about a scary movie? No clowns or scarecrows, unless you’re feeling brave?”

“Not feeling brave. Not the least bit. Hit me with whatever else you’ve got.”

~•~Ѽ~•~