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chickensarentcheap · 2 years

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Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 91

Title: Cope

Warnings: some profanity, angst

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @secretaryunpaid, @youflickedtooharddamnit, @jvstjewels, @asirensrage, @raith-way, @residentdormouse, @tragiclyhip, @arrthurpendragon, @ocappreciationtag

Tag list is OPEN

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28860450/chapters/99156042

Huge thanks to the lovely and very talented @tragiclyhip for my amazing story banner! Officially marking the second half of the fic :D

“Dad…” Knuckles rap repeatedly against the wooden Tanner’s voice breaking through the layers of concentration; speaking in between each knock. “...dad…dad…daddy!”

He doesn’t look up, continuing to hastily scribble notes on the pad of paper in front of him; anxious to get all the thoughts and ideas out of his brain before they all become too much to bear. Strategic and tactical plans; lists of possible places Esme could be hidden away, transportation to and from, the names of two man teams that work best together, the best suited weapons and amount of ammo they’d need. Seeking refuge in his office when life was suddenly too much to handle; the kids’ incessant whining and bickering and the physical fights he’d had to break up between Millie and TJ. Unable to confront his own anger and fear and worry; needing to concentrate on taking care of his children and how to aid them through such a difficult time. Estelle finally coming to his rescue; insisting that he take some time to himself before he said and did things he’d regret.

“What’s up, Nug?”

“Are you busy?” Tanner inquires, and leans against the doorframe. “Can I come in? I don’t want to bug you.”

“I’m never too busy for you, you know that. And you also know that if the door is open…”

“I can’t just walk in, dad. Mumma said so. She said to always knock. To always respect your space and your boundaries.”

“Your mumma tends to go a little overboard sometimes. But no, mate. I’m not busy. You can come in.”

Bare feet slap against polished hardwood as Tanner hurriedly pads into the room. His impossibly thick dirty blond hair still messy and tangled from sleep and bouncing and swaying with each step: bangs tumbling over his forehead and skimming the middle of his nose. Shorter and heavier than both his twin and older sister, he’s shockingly strong and agile; fighting with the ferocity of four grown men when it comes time to be pinned down for blood or dental work. Every day occurrences much scarier for him than the others; terrified of what’s going to be done to him and what it would feel like, but equally as scared of being restrained.

It had been one of the first signs that something was ‘off’; the extremely heightened fight or flight response and the level of rage and aggression that no child should ever possess. Little by little other things became more noticeable. An aversion to labels in his shirts and the seams in his underwear and clothes, complaints that denim against his skin was ‘painful’, sobbing and begging them not to ‘hurt him’ whenever they tried to brush his hair. The pieces starting to come together when combined with concerns they’d noted -but had been ignored by medical professionals- when he was younger. He had taken much longer to potty train than his siblings and spoke at a much later age. Developed severe hyperfixations and began the obsessive lining up of various objects. And then he dramatically regressed; fine motor skills weakening -and in some cases disappearing all together- and suddenly unable to make eye contact with others .

It took until he was eight to be properly diagnosed; the time in between spent being bounced back and forth between useless doctors, given medications that only seemed to make things worse, and handed various ‘labels’. So much precious and valuable lost until they were finally able to get into him a very sought after and respected developmental paediatrician in Sydney. By that time, the word ‘Autism’ was being frequently used in whispered, late night conversations; researching it becoming a near obsession for both of them. Getting Tanner the right diagnosis and help had become their main priority, and soon th other kids began to feel neglected; experiencing growing resentment and bitterness towards their brother and the attention that they felt he was robbing them of.

While the final word on Tanner’s diagnosis had been expected it had still been a kick in the gut; feeling as if the ground had opened up beneath them and was threatening to swallow them whole. Esme’s hand tightening around his with a strength he hadn't known she ever possessed; her fingernails digging into flesh and breaking through the skin. And when he’d looked at her, there’d been genuine fear in her eyes; her shoulders rapidly rising and falling as she struggled to breathe. That was one of her babies after all; she’d fought tooth and nail to keep him alive inside her womb, and had spent countless hours and sleepless nights by his side when he’d been deathly ill in the neonatal intensive care unit. They had already talked many times about Autism in length; what it meant for their son and the rest of the family and how they’d do whatever it took to help him be ‘the best Tanner he could possibly be’. But it had still rocked his wife to her very core, and Tyler could already see the wheels turning; the mum guilt settling in and bringing with it the questions of whether she’d done something to cause it.

He can still remember the moment she’d come completely undone; halfway to the truck as it sat parked in the hospital’s underground lot. He had simply asked if she was hungry; they could stop somewhere and grab a bite to eat and maybe go through some of the pamphlets and reading material the doctor had given them. She’d stopped in her tracks, dropping his hand in favour of turning into him and tightly gripping his shirt. Her much smaller and lighter frame collapsing against his; unleashing heaving sobs that wracked her entire body and echoed throughout the immense, cement structure. He had witnessed her in the midst of many an emotional meltdown over the years; spurred on by the pain of childbirth, the lingering trauma from Dhaka, the agony brought on by tougher therapy sessions. But he’d never seen her THAT vulnerable; everything from anger and grief to guilt and fear. And he’d simply allowed her to cling desperately to him; not uttering a word as a hand tenderly cradled the back of her head and an arm wrapped tightly around her trembling body. Those heart wrenching sobs combining with the dripping of water, muffled conversations on the lower levels of the garage, and the rumbling of idling engines. And that familiar scent that clung to her hair; coconut and honey mixing with the structure’s traces of gasoline, dampness, and exhaust.

In a way, it was the closest he'd ever felt to her; both extremely vulnerable and scared for their son’s future and worried what was in store not just for their family, but for their marriage as well. During their research they’d come across the horror stories; husbands and wives that couldn’t make things work under the strain of raising a child with special needs. A lot of people simply can’t handle it; the changes it makes to the family dynamic, the stress it places upon not only the child with ‘issues’ but the others in the house as well, and the fractures it can cause in even the healthiest of marriages. Both refused to be part of the statistics; they’d gone through a hell of a lot worse and come out intact on the other side. Tanner would be fine and so would their bonds with their other kiddos and so would their relationship. They’d make the effort and find the time and do whatever they had to stay connected to one another.

Both will willingly admit it hasn’t been easy; their calendars often filled to the brim. There’s seven children to care for and show attention to; schedules full of sports events, school and extracurricular activities, and Tanner’s various appointments and therapies centred out of Brisbane. At one point, their relationship did begin to suffer. Pushing each other to the back burner while running themselves ragged to tend to their brood; barely having the time or energy for adult conversations, never mind a date night away from the hustle and bustle. It had taken Doctor Klein to remind them what was at stake; many a marriage crumbling under the strain and children suffering from having their lives completely disrupted. They HAD to nurture their bond; anything else was unacceptable and would only serve to destroy everything they’d already worked so hard to build. Neither were willing to give up easily and from that moment on, made the joint decision to actively work on THEM; weekly date nights and a weekend away a month, spontaneous lunches out, an hour in the morning after the kids left for school devoted to sitting with one another and actually listening to what the other had to say. It wasn’t always pretty; both feeling neglected and resentful and missing one another. Sharing a bed together at night yet feeling incredibly disconnected; sex suddenly nothing more than seeking and finding pleasure instead of ‘becoming’ part of one another.

It had been hard truths they’d both needed to hear and the daily ‘clearing of the air’ became an integral part of keeping things together. Soon the negatives stopped appearing in their conversations; they laughed and teased one another more and they held hands across the kitchen table or while walking along the beach. They were reminded that they were far more than just spouses and two people raising children; they were one another’s life lines and best friends. And once they actively made one another a priority, things quickly changed; they were more relaxed around one another and the kids, no more tension hung heavily in the air and they no longer second guessed many decisions they’d made over their years together. Solidifying the bond they had together; built on the ruins of Dhaka and made stronger by unwavering faithfulness, profound trust, and immense love and respect.

“What’cha doin’?” Tanner inquires as he stands behind his dad’s chair; his unruly hair brushing against Tyler’s cheek as he perches on his tiptoes in order to lean over his dad’s shoulder.

It’s rare he gets THAT close to someone right off the hop; affection and physical contact not coming easily to him. His parents and siblings long ago learning that Tanner does NOT like people getting too close; he hates feeling boxed in and as if his ‘space’ isn’t being respected, and can quickly go into meltdown mode. It’s simply smarter -and safer for everyone involved- if they just ‘hang back’ and let him come to them. Sometimes it never happens; Tanner preferring a list of ‘safe’ people that don’t feed into his anxiety and make him feel restless and unsafe. He stays as far away from Millie as he can; her emotions and temperament just far too much for someone as sensitive as he is. Brookie and Addie he can take in small portions; able to spend time crafting and colouring and reading to them and then needing a sensory break. He still clings to TJ; idolizing his older brother and seeing him as both his fiercest projector and ‘bestest friend’. His twin makes him feel safe; able to rely on him to have his back ‘no matter what’. And while Declan is loud and boisterous, they get along surprisingly well; Tanner often commenting about the red head’s ‘gentle soul’ and ‘beautiful heart’.

“Just finishing up some work. Tying up some loose ends.”

Draping a forearm across his father’s collarbone, he repeatedly rubs his smooth cheek against Tyler’s unshaven one. “When it comes to mumma?”

Tyler nods. He’s not surprised by Tanner’s resolve and calmness; at times able to ‘shelve his shit’ and focus solely -and intently- on others. A trait that he inherited from his old man; the tunnel vision that enables you from being hurt even more and gives you a sense of reason and usefulness.

A blessing AND a curse.

“Just trying to get a plan going. Cover all the bases.”

“So you can go and kick some ass?”

“Exactly. What’s going on? Sleep good? I know it was a pretty rough night.”

“I slept alright, I guess. You were gone when I woke up, though. Why’d you leave?”

“I was uncomfortable. You were lying on my head.”

“It was warm. And cozy.”

“For you, maybe. You could have suffocated me.”

Giggling, Tanner lapses into a perfect impersonation of Leslie Chow in The Hangover. “But did you die?”

Managing a chuckle, he begins tidying his desk; hand throbbing at the simplicity of shuffling papers together and sliding them into corresponding folders.

“You can kiss me good morning if you want,” Tanner says, and nuzzles the tip of his nose against his dad’s cheek.

“You’re in a rare mood,” Tyler teases, and turns his face into his son’s; gently pecking the ten year old’s puckered lips. “Good morning.”

“And a hug,” Tanner adds, as he sets a sheet of paper in possession face down on the desk and then steps around to the side of his dad’s chair; arms wrapping tightly around his neck. “You can hug me back and stuff. I don’t mind.”

“Someone woke up on the right side of the bed,” he chides, and returns the embrace; a palm flat against the small of his son’s spine and the other gently cupping the back of his head. Eyes briefly closing as he presses a kiss to the side of Tanner’s head; breathing in the combined smells of salty air and watermelon scented shampoo. “What’s up? You behaving yourself? Not causing issues?”

“Never.” Noisily pecking his father’s unshaven cheek, Tanner scrambles up onto Tyler’s lap and leans back against him. Small hands reach for those much bigger and than his; a child’s fingers pushing their way through longer, calloused ones. “Are you behaving YOURSELF?”

“I’m too old and achy not to be.”

“You’re not THAT old.” Tanner pulls much larger, stronger arms around his body.

“Tell that to my body.”

“How old ARE you?”

“Ancient.”

“How old is that?”

“Forty seven.”

“That’s not that bad. Is mumma that old? Or older?”

Tyler chuckles. “Older? You’re lucky she’s not here to hear you say that. She’s younger than I am. By almost six years.”

“So she’s only forty one?”

He nods. “She’ll be forty two in September. We’ll have to figure out what to do for her birthday, yeah? Throw her a party or something? Take her away somewhere nice?”

“Both?”

“If she’s good. So what’s up, Nug? What’cha doing in here?”

“I wanted to come and see you. And Nanny Stel said that lunch will be ready really soon. She’s making burritos. Chicken AND beef. You know how much I LOVE burritos.”

“You love food in general.”

“And I wanted to show you something. That I made. Wanna see it?”

“Always.”

He is always the first one to see one of Tanner’s creations; pictures that he’s drawn or stories that he’s written based on his dreams and purely out of the wildness of his imagination. The person that Tanner goes to when he’s struggling with his emotions or feeling overwhelmed and in desperate need of a ‘safe place’; his dad’s deep, soothing voice and his solid body and his familiar scent working wonders to calm the child’s restless soul and jumbled nerves.

It’s a far cry from how their relationship had once been; Tanner the most negatively affected when things had been so rough in Colorado. Three years old and already feeling things much more intensely than his twin and older sister; terrified of his father’s erratic behaviour and ferocious temper. Never directed at him or the other littles, but most certainly at his mother; Esme the target when the demons of drug and alcohol dependency reared their ugly head. It had been a horrible time for all of them. Tyler unable to shake the belief he was a total failure as a husband and father; dabbling in construction and renovation work and becoming frustrated at the mountain of bills and seemingly insurmountable piles of debt. Hating that he wasn’t a better provider for his wife and three little ones and turning to the one thing he knew he could do and do WELL. He had returned to the job without so much of a conversation with his wife; immersing himself in the most dangerous of missions because they were the ones that paid the good money. His reputation had still been intact despite the injuries he’d suffered in Dhaka and the years that he’d been away; his lingering quickness and enviable skill set once more becoming well sought after.

With the harder jobs came the injuries. And combined with undeniable tensions and resentment between him and his wife, it had been a quick return to booze and pain meds. He could numb both his physical and mental anguish; functioning in a haze of liquor and Oxy and at least attempt to put on a brave and stable persona. In reality, he’d been terrified of losing everything; feeling the second chance he’d been giving slowly slipping away. Esme had fought with everything she had; every waking moment not spent caring for their babies had directed towards trying to save him. She’d desperately wanted to keep things together; loving him despite his shortcomings and his multitude of baggage and the side effects from a life filled with trauma. But the more she dug in her heels, the more he tried to push her away, truly believing he was unworthy of her and the life they’d created and fearing that he would destroy her. A year passing before things hit rock bottom; the volatile arguments and the vicious things he’d said to her and the holes he’d punched in walls and the doors he’d ripped off hinges. And the bruises he’d unfortunately put on her; grabbing her when she’d attempt to walk away in order to give him a chance to ‘cool off’.

He’s not proud of the man he’d been during that time. And he makes no excuses for it. He’d hurt her. Badly. And his children had suffered as well; witnessing the fights and hearing the things he’d said out of despair, fear, and anger, and seeing their mother cry. Tanner had been impacted the worst of all; wetting his pants whenever Tyler so much raised his voice, cowering in fear the moment anger began to darken his father’s eyes and harden his face. And nightmares; horrible dreams that would have the little boy screaming in sheer terror and waking the entire house.

That had been the last straw. Esme refused to allow her children to suffer anymore than they already had and she’d kicked him out. Rightfully so.

It took Tanner years to stop being afraid of his dad. Remembering the fights and the times daddy made mummy cry. Those moments when he told her that she was the worst mistake he ever made; he regretted ever meeting her and she’d done nothing but ruin his life. When he returned home, Tyler had attempted to repair things with his children; TJ and Millie willingly and easily forgiving him while Tanner refused to even go in his direction, let alone go near him. And the more Tyler pushed, the worse it became; his son becoming increasingly attached to his mother and his behaviour problems escalating. Marriage counselling hadn’t been the only therapy they’d sought; finding a reputable child psychologist to work with Tanner and hopefully get to the bottom of his lingering fear and apprehension. It had been heartbreaking; the realization that not only did his own child hate him, he had been the sole cause of it. In the end, the therapist had told him to make things right, he first had to accept the state of them; own up to the role he’d played in damaging his relationship with his little boy. Stressing that if he wanted to fix things, he had to step back; show patience and restraint and let Tanner come to HIM.

Slowly but surely, things started to mend. He’d thrown himself headlong into becoming a better man; concentrating on strengthening his marriage and working on his temper and communication issues. A gruelling, in patient six week stint in rehab had helped him get clean and sober; healthier than he had been years in upon discharge. As the trust began to rebuild, Tanner became less tense and his behaviour issues started to improve ; finally sleeping through the night with no issues and doing so in his OWN bed. The harder Tyler worked at being there for his family , the quicker the trust and the comfort started to rebuild; Tanner taking baby steps in allowing his father back into his life.

It started slowly; being in the same room together whether it was eating a meal or Tyler spending time with the other kids. Steadily progressing to the point of allowing Tyler to occasionally step in for Esme. Giving her the opportunity to sleep as he handled the making of breakfast and getting the littles cleaned and dressed for the day; chauffeuring them to and from school and often taking them out for ice cream and to the park. In the evenings, Tanner would cautiously approach as the rest of the family watched television together; sitting at his dad’s feet or close enough on the couch that their legs would touch. In the end, giving him as much time as he needed to observe from afar paid off; Tanner building the confidence and the trust needed to willingly engage with his dad. He allowed brief moments of affection or comfort and happily conversed at the dinner table; boasting about his accomplishments at school and proudly sharing any and all information about his latest hyperfixation. And he’d not only grown increasingly comfortable with asking for help with his homework or school projects, but when requesting bedtime stories and to be tucked in.

But it wasn’t until Tyler returned from New Zealand that the rift between him and his son had been fully repaired. Tanner the most emotional during their reunion; racing across the dusty driveway and throwing his arms around his father’s neck and sobbing uncontrollably. Daddy was home and he was safe and he was promising to never go away again. And just like that, everything was perfect and right in Tanner’s world once more.

It had only been uphill from there.

“It looks a little better today,” Tanner observes; brow furrowed as gentle fingertips examine his father’s badly injured hand. “It’s not as swollen. Just really bruised. And some of the bones look crooked. Are they broken?”

“Probably.”

“Is it still really sore?”

‘It’s not too bad,” Tyler lies, and convincingly bites back the pain as he wriggles and bends his fingers and thumb. He’s been consistently working on strength and mobility since the moment he opened his eyes; fighting through the agony as he used both hands to dress, forcing the right to complete handwritten paperwork, repeatedly squeezing an Indian rubber ball stolen from TJ’s lacrosse bag. And some practice on both unloaded handgun and rifle; concentrating on grip and the durability and speed of his trigger finger.

“Do you think it’s going to be alright? For when you go and look for mumma?”

“I think it’s going to be perfectly fine. All healed up.”

“You know what I think? I think you’re lying. To make me feel better. ‘Cause I googled hand injuries and something nasty like yours? It should have a cast on it. You’re probably going to need pins put in your fingers. To reset them and make sure they grow straight. That’s at least three months of healing after that operation. IF you follow doctor’s orders. And we know how you can be…”

“What’s the supposed meaning? How I can be? What…?”

“Dad, you didn’t follow orders after you had the old…snip-snip.” Holding up a hand, Tanner mocks a pair of scissors with his fore and middle fingers. “That’s why Kota and Brookie are here.”

Smirking, he drops a kiss on the top of his son’s head. “How the hell do you know this stuff?”

“I hear things. And after that Nathan guy, mumma used to catch you all the time doing things you shouldn’t. When you were trying to get better. And she’d tell you to just be patient and take things easy, but you wouldn’t listen to her and you’d just go ahead and hurt yourself. You’re very stubborn.”

“I am,” Tyler admits. “But you know who is worse? Your mother.”

“Oh, I’m not denying that. She truly is the worst.”

“You know, you’re awfully damn smart. How’d you get so smart?”

“What can I say?” Tilting his head back, Tanner smiles broadly. “I come from good stock.”

Smiling, Tyler presses a kiss to his son’s freckled nose. “You most certainly do. You get that from your mumma. All the brains.”

“You and mumma are BOTH really smart. You’re just smart in different ways. Mum is book smart; she has a degree and she reads a lot and she’s really good at reading people and understanding people and what they’re going through. You’re more street smart. Look at how you can handle the bad guys! How you’re able to problem solve! Something goes wrong and you’re able to figure out a solution really fast. Maybe that’s why you and mum are so good together. Why you work so well. you're both really smart but at doing different things. You compliment each other.”

“That is probably the best way I’ve ever heard someone describe your mum and I.”

“You guys are different in some ways, and a lot alike in others. And you love each other and have a lot of fun together; you’re not just married, you’re besties too! I know people think you’re an odd couple ‘cause mumma is so tiny and you’re so big, but I think you’re perfect together.”

“I think we are too. Your mum’s pretty awesome. I’m a lucky guy. That she ever managed to come my way. And that she even gave me the time of day.”

“Why wouldn’t she? You’re a good guy. You’re not a bad person. So what if you kill people for a living?”

“I’m pretty sure killing people fits the definition of a bad person. And taking money for it…”

“But you kill BAD people. Not just any old regular person. Bad people who do bad things. We need less people like that. Good riddance, I say. And mumma kinda did the same thing for a living. I mean, it’s not like she didn’t know what you did.”

“Mumma wasn’t exactly as deep into it as I was.”

“But she still knew what you did and she still wanted to be with you. Something about ya she liked, right?”

“A whole bunch of something’s, I hope.”

“Do you want to know what she told ME?”

“I don’t know. Do I?” He slowly and carefully runs his fingers through Tanner’s tangled and unruly hair. “ How bad is it?”

“Not bad at all. It’s all good stuff. She told me that you were different. From everyone else she met through her job. You weren’t loud and obnoxious; you were quiet and serious and didn’t brag about killing people. She said you were good to talk to; smart and funny and attentive.”

“Smart and funny? That must have been the booze making me that way that one night in Dhaka.”

“She said you were ‘refreshing’ and that you seemed kinda nervous around her.”

“I was,” Tyler admits. “She was different, too. In a good way. A VERY good way.”

“And she said you had really pretty eyes. That there was a kindness in them. And a little bit of sad. You still had a lot of humanity left. For someone who’d been through what you had. I don’t really know what she was talking about. What HAD you been through? Austin dying?”

“That. And a few other things. That you don’t need to know about.”

“She also liked your arms,” Tanner continues. “And your hands. She said they were big and rough but could be really gentle, too. And then there was your butt…”

He laughs at that. “Yeah, she’s always had a soft spot for my butt.”

“Mumma REALLY liked you. Like, A LOT.”

“You think she still does?”

“Ummm, yeah! She’s married to you. She’s had tons of your tons. And she doesn’t just like you. She LOVES you.”

“Well, that’s good. ‘Cause I happen to love her. Now…” Leaning forward in his chair, he taps a fingertip against the paper Tanner had placed on his desk. “...what do you have here? A picture you drew? A story you wrote?”

“Not today. Today it’s something important. REALLY important.” Snatching up the item in question, the ten year old clutches it to his chest. “Now, before I show you it, I have to say a couple things. First, I’m still really, really, really sad about mumma. I miss her. A LOT. Just ‘cause I’m not constantly crying doesn’t mean I don’t.”

“I know that, mate. I know your heart. And how much you love your mum. I’d never question that.”

“Second, I’m also really angry. At the people who took her. First they steal her away, then they hurt you. I’m really pissed off. So I took how sad and angry I am, and put it towards something useful. Something that could help find mum. I can only cry for so long. I’m a man of action. Like you. I don’t like to sit on things. I want to do something! Anything. So…” Tanner flips the paper around and proudly holds it aloft. “...I made this!”

Tyler’s chest aches; a lump of emotion crawling up from the pit of stomach and constricting his lungs and heart. He’s rendered both speechless and tearful as he studies his son’s handiwork. A heartbreaking but lovingly crafted missing persons poster; bearing a picture of Tanner and his mum together and Esme’s basic information. It’s the photo that hurts the most; a close up of his wife and son taken on their last trip to Disney World. Esme holding Tanner tightly against her as they both face the camera; their hair mussed from the breeze and their skin sunkissed and the little boy’s lips stained bright blue from the slushie he’d been eating. And those smiles; broad and genuine as mother and son pose in their matching Mickey Mouse ears.

Neither parent had been particularly invested in the trip during the lead up; dreading both the extremely long flight and the juggling of seven kids at such a hectic place. But they’d made things somewhat easier on themselves and all the rugrats by renting a home instead of staying at one of the resort’s packed hotels; a bungalow on a quiet, tree lined street in Kissimmee that had indoor and outdoor pools and a hot tub on the master suite’s balcony. Once there, the kids’ excitement had made the trip more than worth it; Addie with her over the top emotional reactions to meeting Tinkerbell and Snow White, Millie on her best behaviour and helping take care of the smaller kids and joining TJ and Tanner on the rides.

On day three of seven, they’d decided to drop all the kids off at Disney World’s ‘day care centre’; making their escape before any of their spawn realized what was going on and then enjoying the park together. Esme’s joy had seemed to shine ever brighter and stronger than the kids; a forty year old woman who was in complete awe of her surroundings. He’d gotten a peek of that little girl that still existed inside of her; the one that had spent years looking for love and validation and a chance to just be a kid. And it had made him happy to give her that kind of experience; indulging in junk food and getting their pictures taken with various characters and buying her those mouse ears with her name embroidered on them. And he can vividly remember Esme flagging down a passerby and asking them to take a picture; insisting that while it wasn’t exactly Paris and the Eiffel Tower, she’d be happy with a kiss in front of the castle. He’d been more than happy to oblige; turning his baseball hat backwards and then cradling her face in his palms as he covered her mouth with his. Her lips sticky from the treats she’d consumed; tasting like a mixture of cotton candy, chocolate, and orange sorbet.

He had never feasted on anything more delicious in his entire life.

“Do you like?” Tanner asks, oblivious to his father’s threatening tears and the tremendous heartache. “That’s my favourite picture. It’s the one that I kept next to my bed. Mumma looks so cute, doesn’t she? Look at her freckles! The way the sunburn on her nose really brings them out! I have her freckles, you know.”

He presses a kiss to his son’s temple; desperately to keep it together. “Yeah, you do.”

“I don’t know how tall she is or how much she weighs. I figured you’d probably know and you could fill it in. Do you like it? Do you think it will help? Find mum?”

Nodding, he noisily clears his throat in an attempt to rid himself of the lump of emotion threatening to choke him. “I think it’s perfect, Nugs. It’s a beautiful thing for you to do. To help out like this.”

“I had to do something! I might be little still, but I can still help!”

“You’re a huge help. I know it’s helped me; having you come here like this. I needed it. Time with you. So thank you,” he kisses her son’s cheek. “For making this and coming to see me.”

“I didn’t know if you’d want company. I know it’s really hard. Being without mum.”

“It is. It’s very, VERY hard. But having you and your brothers and sisters? You all make it a bit easier to deal with.”

“I know you miss her. And it’s okay, you know. To admit that. How much you DO miss her.”

“I miss her a hell of a lot. I’m not used to this; not even being able to text her or talk to her. And I don’t like it very much. At all.”

“Me either.” Tanner briefly slides off his lap and then climbs back on; facing his father with both arms wrapped around his neck and their bodies pressed tightly together. “It’s alright, daddy. It’s okay to cry.”

“I’ve been doing a lot of that, believe me.”

“I didn’t mean to make you even MORE sad. I just wanted to help. I didn’t do it to make you upset.”

“I’m not upset. At all. Just a little emotional. Like I said, it’s a beautiful thing you’ve done for your mum. And I appreciate the help. You’ve got a big heart for a little bloke.”

“Do you think it WILL help? If we put those up? That maybe someone will see it and recognize mumma and know where she is? Do you think that’s a good way to do things?”

“Any help is good help. But I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you take that picture of you and your mum and put it back beside your bed. I know it’s your favourite and I don’t want it getting wrecked. You take it and I’ll find another one to use, okay? You keep that one just for yourself. That’s a special picture; just you and your mum together.”

“It IS my favourite,” Tanner says. “We had a lot of fun, didn’t we? At Disney.”

“We did. And when mumma gets home, we’ll talk about going again. But for now…” Moving Tanner onto his right thigh, he tends to carefully peeling the photograph from the paper. “...you take this and put it back where it’s safe. I’ll fill in the rest of the info and get a different pic to use.”

“Make sure it’s a good one! One where mumma looks really pretty! Not that that’s hard to find. She’s ALWAYS pretty.”

“I think so too. Although she’d say we’re pretty biased.”

“When you’re done with the poster, can you print up a whole bunch of copies? Maybe after lunch we can go into town and hand them out. And leave some at the bookstore.”

“I promised I’d take Addie and Brookie down to the beach. Keep them occupied. They want to look for rocks and shells and sea glass. Want to come with? Just tag along?”

Tanner nods. “I think I will. I’m in a rare mood today. I don’t want to stay inside. You promise you’ll finish this? That you’ll get a different picture and fill in the rest of the info?”

“You know what, I’ll do it right now. Why don’t you go and tell Nanny Stell that I’ll be in a few minutes. And don’t you dare go eating all those burritos.” He digs his fingers into his son’s side; tickling until the ten year old is squealing and squirming and begging him to stop. “ I’ll be pissed if you don’t leave me some.”

“She’s making tons! But I’ll make sure a bunch is left for you. Thank you, daddy.” Pressing a kiss to Tyler’s lips, Tanner slides off his lap. “For finishing this for me. I really hope it helps.”

“I think it will. You’re a good kid, Nugs. Full of heart.”

“It’s my mumma. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. I mean, I’d do all of this for you too. But it’s different for some reason. I don’t know…” Sighing heavily, he clutches the photograph tightly to his chest. “...it’s my mum.”

“Your mum is a pretty awesome person. And you’ve always been really close to her.” Reaching out, he tucks strands of hair behind Tanner’s ears. “ I remember when you were born; how sick you were and how they had to rush you to the special nursery. Your mum was so upset; she had some complications and she couldn’t go with you. All she wanted to do was be with you.”

“But you stayed, yeah? With me?”

“I did. I either slept in a chair right next to you or in mumma’s room. It was the longest four days of my life, that’s for sure. The scariest too. You were just a tiny little guy. But tough. So tough.”

“Like you. And mum. You’re both tough. Just in different ways.”

“Your mum is…by far… the strongest person I have ever met. And I’ve met a lot of strong people.”

“That’s how I know she’s going to be alright. She’s strong and she can outsmart the bad guys. And you’re going to be out looking for her. There’s NO ONE that can do that job like you can. You’ll make them pay, right? For ever touching her?”

“I will,” Tyler promises. “Every last one of them.”

“Good. And don’t worry, dad,” Tanner curls an arm around his neck and presses a kiss to his cheek. “Mumma knows you’re coming.”

*****

It’s hard to even walk through the door of the bookstore; immediately accosted by all the things ‘Esme’. The jewel coloured couches and armchairs with their brightly patterned throw pillows, the neatly organized and well stoked displays tables and shelves, the chalk and whites boards covered in her printing; various colours of marker and chalk that display each genre, advertise the newest releases and best sellers, and list the treats and drinks being offered. It had always been a dream of hers; move to a quiet little town and open up a bookstore that would appeal to the locals and draw in the tourists.

From the moment she’d told him about it at the beginning of their marriage, he’d vowed to make it happen; initially putting away any extra cash he’d make doing construction and reno work while they lived in Colorado. Even when things got bad and he once more fell into the darkest recesses of addiction, he’d never touched a cent in the account he’d dedicated to making her dream a reality. Managing to live off very little of the money he earned on the job; staying in a cheap motel while the majority of his cash went to his estranged wife and their children. He HAD to take care of them; pay the bills and keep a roof over their heads and clothes on their backs and food in their bellies. And he’d remained determined to not only make amends and get his family back, but to hold up to the promise that he’d one day get her back to Australia. It had been a hell of a difficult secret to keep; wanting so badly to tell her about his plans whenever he’d visit the kids and she’d accuse him of not taking proper care of himself and ‘pissing away’ his money on booze and painkillers. But he’d kept it to himself; feeling no resentment towards her for the allegations. After all, she’d had every right to be upset; he had gone back to the job without telling her and he had reverted to being an active alcoholic and pill junkie. And he HAD hurt her. Terribly. The holes punched in walls had been long repaired and the ripped off doors had been placed back on their hinges, but he would never be able to take back the horrible things he’d said in fits of drunken rage.

He would have died had she not called him that night and begged him to come home; there’s no two ways about it. And he can remember what her voice had sounded like; tearful and pleading and full of worry. Telling him she loved him and missed him and desperately wanted to fix things; as long as he was willing to put the work in and agree to some ‘rules’. She would NOT live with an addict and she most certainly wouldn’t subject their children to that lifestyle; they deserved so much better than an unstable environment and parents that fought all the time. Yet she never put the blame solely on him; admitting to her own faults that had caused some of the issues between them. She carried a lot of baggage of her own; the years of emotional abuse at the hands of her mother, the horrific treatment at the hands of her ex husband, the damage that her family was hell bent on inflicting upon her second marriage. And there was resentment; the feeling that she had lost all of her identity and been relegated to nothing more than a wife and mother.

“We both fucked up,” Esme had stressed. “We both have toxic traits. And unless we BOTH deal with our shit, we aren’t going to make it. And I want to, Tyler. I WANT us to make it. I want that so badly. I want US…YOU… that badly.”

He’d been more than willing to do whatever it took to repair things between them; he was spiralling out of control and was likely only a handful of missions away from a very bloody and gruesome demise. And that would have destroyed her; wracked with misplaced guilt that kicking him out had b kickstarted his path towards death. He couldn’t fault her for her decision and it hadn’t exactly been easy on her either; desperately wanting to hold onto him and save him, yet having no choice but to cause tremendous agony and uproar in ALL of their lives. Her reasoning had been sound; the alcohol and drug dependency caused him to be irrational and volatile. He was a danger not just to himself, but to her and the children as well.

While initially he’d been angry, he’d quickly acknowledged and accepted his role in fucking things up. He’d crumbled under the weight of lifelong trauma and his overwhelming fear of being a failure as a husband and a father; he needed help and he knew it. It was terrifying even for him; reverting back to the person he’d been when Esme had first wandered into his life. A booze and drug addicted mercenary with a death wish; a recluse that hid himself away from the rest of the word as a form of punishment. He’d already begun missing visits with his kids; too drunk to show up at visitations and birthday parties and school events. And he hated THAT man; the one that brought tears to her eyes and broke every promise he made and made her feel nervous and afraid. When they’d made the decision to get married, he had promised her that he'd be the husband that she needed, wanted, and deserved; vowing to do better and be better than he had the first time around.

So it had been an easy decision; agreeing to all her terms and moving back in after a six week stay in rehab. Clean and sober and healthier and stronger than ever. Returning to Australia had simply been the final piece of the puzzle; the best thing he EVER could have done for his family. The emotional breakdown in New Zealand the unlikely catalyst he’d needed; walking away from job and the cash from the IRA sitting in the bank. Millions of dollars that had given them much needed stability and had made making a huge decision so much easier.

Yet he’d still held onto the secret savings account he’d opened up in Telluride; routinely transferring money into it and patiently waiting for just the right moment to surprise her. It would take until their tenth anniversary before he could make her dream a reality; the time in between spent growing and nurturing their family. Six successful -if not slightly stressful- pregnancies that would result in seven little ones in as many years; beautiful, amazing little humans that he didn’t quite feel he deserved. And they’d poured a lot of love and hard work into what had once had been just an average four bedroom home; transforming it into a dream home big enough for their brood. Extensive renovations and additions to both the main dwelling and the existing outbuildings; adding three extra garages that would be transformed into a businesses spaces and a gym. Little by little, they’d created their own slice of paradise on that dead end gravel road; acres of land to expand upon and woods to roam and a generous slice of private beach made of powdery, near white sand.

A week shy of their tenth anniversary, he’d wandered upon an empty store front in the quaint and cozy downtown area; calling the realtor and requesting an immediate tour of the building. Price hadn’t been a concern and he hadn’t even inquired about it; willing to pay the cost that comes with owning in a highly sought after area. Rich in foot traffic; locals and tourists alike that would enjoy someone like Esme and her little bookstore brightening up the street. It had needed a lot of work; foundation repairs, new roof and insulation, refurbishing of the hardwood floors and all new electrical. But to him it was perfect, and he’d been willing to spare no expense in order to bring her long held dream to fruition.

Somehow, he’d managed to keep his secret right up until the very end. Convincing her that they had to start their ‘trip’ earlier than usual; following in the yearly tradition of turning a one day event into a three away. Cairns had been her choice for their tenth; an easy, relatively short -and extremely picturesque- drive down the coast. With three still in diapers at home, she’d wanted to be far enough from them that it seemed like a proper get away, yet close enough ‘just in case’. It had been the first time away ALONE since Nathan had broken both his body and his mind; finally able to bear full weight on his badly injured leg and successfully weaned off any and all pain heavy duty pain medication. He had felt better than ever; relieved to have at least the physical nightmare behind him. No more living in chronic agony, no longer chained to his addictions, and finally able to resume the life he’d had before Nathan had nearly put him in the ground.

He had arranged for a late check in; planning to stop at the hotel and quickly unload their belongings before heading for dinner. Reservations at one of the fancier establishments; a renowned surf and turf place with top shelf whiskey and award winning wines. They’d only been there once before; a year prior when Riley had thrown Shaena a fortieth birthday celebration. Things had been rough; he’d been six months removed from a second knee replacement after a catastrophic failure of the original. It had been his own fault; pushing himself too hard, too soon and blowing out both the ACL and MCL. He’d still been using crutches and he felt like absolute shit about himself; hating the dramatic loss of both weight and muscle and the inability to put any of it back on. Esme would successfully snap him out of those moods; giving that tender smile and taking his face in her hands and pressing kisses to his brow and his lips. And forever looking at him like he was the most incredible man on earth.

That night, by the glow of their sister in law’s birthday candles, his wife had remarked about how beautiful the restaurant was; dipping into a second bottle of wine as she marvelled over the reflection of the moon upon the water and the smell of the salty air. As if she was an awe struck tourist and they hadn't spent the several years living in Queensland. She’d been particularly emotional; a mixture of the alcohol she’d consumed, the hell they’d been walking through since Nathan, and the love fest Riley was holding for her significant other. And she hadn’t been the only one feeling especially vulnerable; listening to her laugh as it floated on the breeze and marvelling over her smile. Finding himself caught up in thoughts of how -despite the enormous physical differences between them- they’d always seemed to fit JUST RIGHT. As they held hands atop the table, he had watched the way moonlight sparkled in her eyes and had enjoyed the sensation of the pad of her thumb repeatedly brushing against the base of his.

And he’d realized -just like that- that he’d fallen in love with her all over again.

Naturally, returning to Cairns had been easy to agree with; the perfect celebration of a decade together. There’d been naysayers; those who thought they wouldn’t make it six months, never mind ten years. Most who doubted them had had their own lives apart. Suffering through ugly breakups that were followed by even uglier divorces and custody battles. Yet they’d continued to grow even closer despite all the obstacles tossed in their way; their love and their bond deepening in the face of troubles that would tear much weaker couples apart. He’d found himself nervous about that night; their first time alone since his very near death experience and the clock counting down on the surprise he’d waited years for.

Even now, he can vividly remember what his wife had been wearing; a little black dress that she’d picked out just for that weekend. Just for HIM. One shouldered and fitting like a second skin and reaching just above her knee; rather daring for someone who’d given birth to seven children in as many years and had been struggling with her self confidence. But she’d rendered him absolutely speechless when she’d stepped out of the bedroom and he got that first glimpse of her. That dress perfectly paired with simple black heels, minimal make up and her hair pulled back into a sophisticated bun. All words had seemed to betray him, and when she’d stood on her tip toes and run her palms down the front of his dress shirt and straightened his tie, he’d complimented her the only way he could manage. Cradling her face in his palms and kissing her. Like it was the very first time.

Confusion had narrowed her eyes and furrowed her brow when he’d pulled up to that empty store; the windows covered in newspaper and a roofer’s scaffolding climbing up the bricks. There’d been a sign taped to the front window; “SOLD TO A VERY NICE COUPLE” written in bold, black letters. He recalls opening her door for her and offering a hand; the way she’d tilted her head to the side and looked up at him with the little grin she’s famous for. The one that starts with a sparkle of the eyes and her top teeth dragging over her bottom lip; her expression mix of apprehension and mischievousness. Once on the curb, he’d wrapped an arm around her waist, hand on her hip as he and pulled her tight against him. And when he felt her shiver in the chill of the night air, he’d slipped off his suit jacket and draped it around her; smiling at the way she giggled and finding himself amused by the sight of his tiny wife swimming in a pool of charcoal grey fabric.

He had stepped behind her, dropping a kiss on the top of her head and then settling his hands on her shoulders. “What do you think?”

“About what?”

“This place. The store.”

“I think it looks empty. Why? What are we doing here? Who does it belong to? What…?”

“It belongs to you.”

Giving a small laugh, she’d tilted her back to look up at him. “What do you mean it belongs to me? What…?”

“I figured it was time that you had something all for yourself. It’s been ten years; since we got married and had Millie and started a whole new life. Look at everything that’s happened since then; six more kids, Nathan, our own business. It’s not like you’ve really had the time to do your own thing. You’ve been having babies and raising them and…”

“WE’VE been having babies,” she’d gently interjected. “I mean, I was the one who physically had to have them. But you had to have some part in it; not like I made them on my own. And I haven’t been raising by myself, either. You’ve always been really hands on.”

“I wasn’t in Colorado.”

“Colorado was a shit show of epic proportions. For BOTH of us. Please don’t do this, Tae. Underestimate the part you play. In my life, our kids’ lives. Things were horrible back then. You’re not the same man you were. We’re not the same couple. Please don’t think you don’t play a huge role in things.”

“I just think at times you’ve put in a lot more than I have. When it comes to our family. And I guess I worry you think it hasn’t been appreciated. Everything you HAVE put in. All the times you’ve totally stepped up and handled shit on your own.”

“I did what I had to do. To keep things together. You’ve done the same; stepped up the plate when I was down and out and couldn’t even get out of bed some days. And yeah, maybe at one time when things were really crappy, I WAS a little resentful. You were out working and sometimes I felt trapped and alone. I felt like I wasn’t Esme anymore. That I somehow lost who I was and the only thing I was good for was being a wife and a mother. And let’s face it, there were times I was a really shitty wife. Where I could have done A LOT better.”

“You were far from being a really shitty wife. You were a good wife who had a shitty husband.”

“We were both overwhelmed. And frustrated. Things happened so quickly between us and although we’ve regretted that, I think once things started going bad in Colorado, everything else caught up to us. It wasn’t all you. When things went to hell. I could have done things a lot differently.”

“You did what you could. Not like either of us had a lot to work with. Unless you want to count the stress.”

“It was hard,” she’d agreed. “But in the end it was worth it. WE were worth it. I like to think it made us a hell of a lot stronger; going through all of that and not letting anyone or anything yank us apart. I know it made us love each other and appreciate one another more; we got to see one another in ways we’d never considered. And I know at first almost broke us, but hey, all’s well that ends well, right? Because here we are, Tae. Ten years in. An entire decade! And for the most part, it’s been a great ten years. Or at least I think it has been, anyway.”

“I can’t think of anyone else I would’ve wanted to go through all the bad shit with. Come to think of it, I can’t think of another woman that would willingly put up with my crap.”

“Well lucky for you…” She’d turned to face him; smoothing her hands down the front of his shirt before hooking her index fingers over the waist of dress pants. And standing on her tiptoes, pressed a kiss to the underside of his chin. “... the right woman just happened to come along. One that COULD put you in your place. And keep you there.”

“It was also pretty lucky that she ended up being totally hot,” he’d teased, using a fingertip to clear a wayward strand of hair away from her cheek. “And that ass…”

Laughing, she’d briefly rested her forehead against his chest, then once more peered up at him; lips delicately curled into a smile, her eyes sparkling. “Leave it to you to come up with something just a bit pervy.”

“I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.”

“No. You wouldn’t. I’d honestly worry about you if you didn’t come out with SOMETHING dirty. So don’t ever change, okay? Because I kinda like you the way you are.”

“You know, I was just thinking the same thing. That I kinda like YOU.”

Grinning, she’d leaned her body into his. “Kinda, huh?”

“Just a bit.”

He’d kissed her. The brief, feathery brush of his lips against hers. And then had once more placed his palms upon her shoulders and turned her towards the empty storefront.

“What DO you think?”

Esme shrugged. “I think it’s got great bones and a lot of potential. Why are we…?”

“I just wanted you to have something that is ALL yours. Something of your own. That you could fix up and make it just the way you want. I know it’s been hard; concentrating on just being a wife and a mother. And I wanted to give you something that gave a part of you back. Am I making any sense right now?”

“You’re starting to get me very emotional is what you’re doing.”

“I wanted you to have something that was just YOU.” Gliding his hands across her shoulders and down her arms, his palms had settled on her hips; pulling her tightly into him. Ignoring the pain that had radiated across his lower back as he’d leaned over her; pressing a kiss to her temple before resting his cheek against hers. “Everything you’ve done, everything you’ve been through, everything you’ve given up, now it’s time to get something back.”

“I didn’t do any of it because I wanted some kind of pay off in the end. I did it because I love you. Because you’re my heart. And because from the moment I met you, I knew I wanted a life with you. And it’s been a good life, Tyler. It really has. It’s been a great life.”

“I just want to make it better. I know how hard things have been. I know that I haven’t always been the easiest guy to live with. In the same way I know that deep down inside of you? That little girl is still there. The one that wants her bookstore.”

“That’s what this is about? What this is for?” Her voice had cracked with emotion. “That’s what you want to do?”

“I know it’s something YOU’VE always wanted to do. You’ve never let go of that. I just wanted to help it happen in some way. What DO you think? There’s a lot you can do with this place. You think it’s okay?”

“I think it’s perfect.” Swiping at the tears that escaped down her cheeks, she’d turned to face him. “YOU’RE perfect.”

“We both know I’m far from that.”

“I can’t believe you even thought about this, let alone went ahead and did it. No one’s ever done anything like this for me. Ever. No one’s ever done much of anything. And yet here you are, always doing even the littlest of things. And now the biggest of things.”

“You should know by now, Me.” Tenderly cradling her face in his hands, he’d cleared away the remaining tears with the pads of his thumbs. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

And then he’d kissed her. Right there in the middle of the sidewalk.

*****

As she tends to cashing out a customer, Clover gives a fingertip wave and a small smile; corners of her mouth curling up in a mixture of sadness and worry. He sees the pity as well; the ‘you poor bastard’ that normally comes when discussing the demons of his mental illness and the ongoing battle he fights to keep clean and sober. It will always be there; forever an addict, active or not. And in the past forty eight hours he’s felt himself spiralling out of control; longing for the escape that getting drunk and high used to provide him with. Needing it now more than ever; intense pain coupled with the agony of losing the most important thing in his life and not knowing how to get it back.

He gets Takota and Tanner settled in the kids area; preferred snacks and drinks from home that he’d packed and the oldest boy had dutifully -and proudly- carried in a backpack. The room is spacious and bright; three walls done in primary colours, the third plexiglass that enables parents to see in and kiddos to see out. Easily accessible book shelves no higher than his waist; the tops decorated in glass jars of betta fish and succulents in small clay pots. Plastic bins filled with toys and items to dress up in; princess dresses and Harry Potter scarves and superhero capes and all the accessories to match. On the weekend and after school it’s sheer madness; each day’s schedule filled with reading clubs and tutoring sessions and birthday parties.

During the week it draws the older crowd; those who like to browse the various sections or grab ‘free to read’ newspapers and magazines and hunker down in one of the many comfortable armchairs. There’s others that are daily regulars; those who come solely for the atmosphere. Retreating to the patio where they eat home baked goods, sandwiches, and soups and sip strong coffee, various flavoured teas, or lattes and cappuccinos. So loyal and devoted that mixed with stellar reviews from tourists, the store has been mentioned in over a dozen publications in Australia ALONE and many others worldwide. Earning such praises as a ‘refreshing gem’ and ‘a return to the simpler quieter time when bookstores were THE PLACE to go’ and ‘one of the top ten MUST SEE treasures in Queensland’.

Shortly after one pm on school day is empty and quiet, and the exact environment the two need. Easily overwhelmed by too many bodies and noise, they’re able to bond over their shared struggles and co-exist peacefully and happily. Tanner always more than willing to keep an eye on his little brother and aid him anyway; always available for a snuggle when Kota finds things a little too tough to deal with.

“You guys gonna behave?” Tyler asks, as Tanner excitedly dumps the contents of his in store mailbox onto one of the tables. “I need to talk to Clover. So if you’re just gonna bug me…”

“About mum?” Tanner counters, and begins arranging his letter by size and colour of envelope. “And my posters?”

“And a couple other things.”

“I might have to pee,” Takota informs him, as he pulls a chair over to the aquarium. Thirty gallons and built into the far wall; boasting multicoloured pebbles and plants and various kinds of fish. “I can’t tell you if I have to pee?”

“You know where the bathroom is.”

“I don’t like going alone. The hand dryer scares me. And you gotta wash your hands after you pee. And especially if you poop!”

“Tanner will take you to the washroom. No coming out for stupid shit, got it?”

“What’s considered stupid shit?” Takota asks, climbing up onto the chair and settling himself on his knees.

“Look, unless someone is bleeding or passed out or has broken something, there’s no reason for you to come out there.”

“What if I just miss you?”

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he runs a palm over his son’s hair. “Tell you what, if you miss me? Just knock on the glass and I’ll hear you and wave you out if it’s okay. Sound good?”

“Sounds good. Maybe Clover knows where mummy is. Maybe mummy has called her. Or texted her.”

“Maybe.”

“You should find out. Maybe mummy is stuck somewhere. Maybe she got away from the bad guys and she’s stuck somewhere and just needs you to go and pick her up.”

“You never know. Be good.” He drops a kiss onto the four year old’s head. “Please.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him, dad.” Tanner promises, and then drops his head back; smiling up at his father as he stands behind his chair. “He’s always good with me. He’ll watch the fish for a while. Keeps him calm. I’ll give him a snack if he gets hungry.”

“You’re a good big brother. You’ll be alright?”

“I got stuff to keep myself busy. Don’t forget to give Clover my posters. So she can hand them out to people.”

He holds aloft a manilla envelope. “I won’t forget. Remember, unless you desperately need me…”

“I got things under control, dad. Kota won’t give me a hard time. We’re buddies. Do you think maybe he’s right? That maybe mumma called Clover?”

“There’s always a chance. Stranger things have happened.”

“Mumma might be hiding somewhere,” Tanner reasons. “And might just need you to go and pick her up. Do you think that could have happened?

Ruffling his son’s hair, he manages a smile. “I think it’s good to be optimistic.”

****

Waiting for the bell above the door to chime and her customer’s departure, Clover steps out from behind the register. “I’m surprised you managed to get out of the house with just two in tow!”

“Brookie and Addie were fast asleep when I left,” Tyler explains, and offers a hand to Marmalade as she lounges in her usual spot on the front counter; the three legged ginger tabby purring loudly as she repeatedly brushes her face against his knuckles. “Shaena’s keeping an eye on them. Estelle took the other ones to a movie.”

“It’s good to keep them occupied. They’re still so young and everything is just so crazy and is probably so scary for them and they’re missing their mum and…” Blushing, she chews pensively on her bottom lip. “I’m rambling. I ramble when I’m nervous.”

“What’s there to be nervous about? You’ve never been that way around me before.”

“It’s not that you’re making me nervous. The whole situation is. I’ve never been through anything like this. Or anything even close to it! And I don’t really know how to act or what to say or…shit!” She claps a hand against her forehead. “Now I’m making it all about myself when I should be concentrating on you and the kids and…”

“There’s a lot of people concentrating on us. And I know it’s a pretty messed up situation. For everyone.”

“I just can’t believe it even happened. Was there any warning? Was somebody threatening her? She never mentioned anything to me. She never talked about anyone bothering her or creeping her out or anything like that.”

“Just someone from her past with an axe to grind. Feels like he was wronged in some way.”

“Well what does he want? What purpose does taking Esme serve? Do you think he’s going to hurt her? Do you think he’s going to do worse? What…?” Sighing heavily, Clover briefly closes her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just not very good in a crisis. Especially one that hits so close to home.” She tentatively reaches out; running a hand up and down his bicep. “How are you? How are you holding up? This can’t be easy. At all.”

He wants to tell her that it isn’t easy in the slightest. That it’s the most difficult thing he’s ever been through. Perhaps surpassing even the death of his son and the horrible decision he’d made in the months before. Life has changed so much since then; given a second chance and conquering some of his demons while managing -on the good days- to keep the others at bay. He’s not the same man he was when he lost Austin; he’d died on the Sultana Kamal Bridge. And while he’s still enormously flawed and often overwhelmed with the mistakes and burdens of the past, he’s come a hell of a long way. Blessed with a new life; surrounded by people who love him and accept and forgive when he can’t even forgive himself.

Now the person directly responsible for all of that is gone. And he’s unsure if he’s ever going to get her back.

Instead of the truth, he manages a reassuring smile. “I’m doing alright. Best that I can expect, I guess.”

“Look at you…” She reaches out to inspect his injuries; gentle fingers tracing the line of stitches and gliding over the various bumps and bruises. “...oh my God, Tyler. For them to be able to do this to YOU…”

“Just caught me by surprise, is all. I’m not as quick as I used to be. Reflexes aren’t as sharp.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. No one does. They would have had to take you down. Before you even had the chance. And there definitely had to be more than one. To do THIS kind of damage?”

“It was just bad luck. And a couple bad decisions. I’ll be fine in a couple days. Already feel myself getting stronger. And we’re getting a plan together. On how to find her. Nik will be arriving tonight. She’s a pain in my ass at times, but she’s damn good at what she does. And always has my back.”

Clover tightly squeezes his hand in both of hers. “I am so sorry. I can’t believe anyone would do this. Especially to Esme. Andy and I were going to pop by later. Just to see how you and the kids are doing. Is that okay? Do you mind? Andy’s been having a hell of time with this. He just loves you guys so much. We both do. He’d really like to see you.”

“I’d like to see him too. I would have called when I got back, but…”

“Things have been crazy, I’m sure. We’ve just been worried, that’s all. When Shaena called and told us what happened, we couldn’t believe it. It was like a really bad dream. I woke up this morning hoping that’s all it was, actually.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, and casts a glance towards the kids room; Tanner standing alongside Takota's chair as he points out the various types of fish and offers up random facts. “So did I.”

“And the kids? How are they doing? They’re still so young. And to lose their mum like this…”

“She’s not lost,” Tyler interjects, and then gives an apologetic smile; hating the tone of his own voice. “She’s out there. Somewhere. And I’ll get her back. If it’s the last thing I do.”

“Bring her AND yourself back. One is no good without the other. And the kids…”

“They’re coping. The best they can. Everyone’s feeling it in a different way. I’m going to keep them off school. Until things are settled. None of them are in their right frame of mind. And it’s a safety thing too. If someone got that close to Esme, who knows what they might be capable of. Last thing I need is them getting close to my kids.”

“Well if there’s anything you need…and I mean anything…please don’t hesitate to reach out. I know what you’re like. We ALL do. You close yourself off and you think you can handle everything on your own. And then you end up wearing yourself down. You’re no good to anyone if that happens.”

“I’ll be alright. Like I said, I’m already feeling better. Stronger. Another day or two and I’ll be ready to go. In the meantime, I need a favour.” He offers the manilla folder. “Tanner made a missing poster. He’s been putting them up all over town. You think you could put one in the front window? And the rest by the cash?”

“Of course! Anything to help. Anything.”

“Just keep them there long enough for him to see them. He’s got a huge heart and he means well, but nothing good will come of this. Last thing I need is someone calling the cops or the press about a missing person. And he won’t understand WHY it’s a bad idea. He just wants to help. And if I tell him the posters can’t be used, it’s only going to hurt his feelings. And he’s already been through enough.”

Flipping open the folder, Clover smiles down at the lovingly made poster. “Always amazes me the hearts your kids have. You’re doing right by them, you know. Both you and Esme are.”

“I only do well ‘cause I have to help me out. If I had to do it myself, I’m pretty sure things would just fall apart. Right now I’m trying to concentrate on that. Hurts too fucking much.”

A loud rap of knuckles against pexiglass captures their attention. Takota with his palms and nose pressed against it; head tilted to the side and his eyes wide and hopeful. Like a puppy at the shelter longing for a passerby to pay attention to him.

“He’s too much,” Clover laughs. “But damn cute.”

“He’s a character that one. Not to sure who he’s like. Mum or dad.”

“I don’t know. Something tells you might have been a bit of a nutter when you were little.”

“I had my moments. Thank you; for taking care of things on this end. Watching the store, now the posters. Think you could go around and take down the ones Tanner put up? I don’t want to do it in front of him. I’ll text you when we get home. That’s nowhere around to see you do it.”

“Like I said, anything you need. Anytime of the day. Andy and I will be there. No questions asked.”

He allows himself to be embraced; eyes closing as he loosely wraps an arm around Clover’s waist. Needing something...anything...to ground himself.

“It’ll be okay,” she assures him, and softly rubs his back. “Everything will be okay.”

He wishes he had her confidence.

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction #Chris Hemsworth #Chris Hemsworth Extraction #Tyler Rake fan fic #Extraction fan fic #Tyler Rake x OFC #Esme Rake #Tyler and Esme series #Rake kids

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bolontiku · 2 years

Text

"Precious Chocolate"

Avengers AU - One Shot

Series List

Characters: Brock Rumlow, Reader, OMC!Alex

Posted: may 15th

A/N: I said I was done, but I lied. This chapter kinda wraps things up between my favorite three.

Note: Italics are memories

WARNINGS: none?

Like, Comments, & Reblogs are always appreciated and loved.

**Please Do Not Repost My Work**

"Ya know, if ya need help you could just ask for it?"

Brock sat back, eyes tracking you and Alex as the both of you ran after the children.

Kids, in his bar, his own kids to boot.

Benny and Aiden. Twins.

Brock still remembered the way they smelled when they were first born. Their little baby giggles, little toes and fingers clutching his forefinger, Alex cooing softly while you rested and slept. Breastfeeding had been fun, but both men assured you the formula was just fine.

The following years had been a gift.

Learning to walk, changing diapers, potty training- shit he would have traded to be back in the field getting hit with bullets… that was a lie.

Always surprising what those two would deliver, even before they could talk their attitudes and personalities had shown through and now that they were going to school it just promised to give him grey hair when he had seen shit that should have given him that color long ago.

He didn't think about the first day, it was normal to sit out in the parking lot. He didn't care. Nahh… he didn't miss them either, stinky, loud, messy little shits. You had saved pictures. He had been a little put out when they had said they hadn't missed him and talked about everything that had happened during the day.

The twins were completely chaotic, but their laughter filled your home and challenged the three of you. It was the quiet that unnerved you all. How two little humans could have so much energy, he had no idea.

Often, he could find the twins tangled up with both of you, all four sprawled out on the couch in an exhausted heap. It was a nice thing to come home too. He had gotten rid of the small apartment and got a house. Only you had the power to quell them completely with a glare that had taken you some time to perfect, but it was necessary. You used it once or twice on the men, the twins falling into fits of giggles. The only thing that they shared was their smile.

Wrapping his hands around his mug of hot chocolate, he thought back, Alex had dragged you to the doctors, confirming his suspicions. The following months had been insanity, the men learning everything they could about babies. You had to put your foot down when you got home to find bubble wrap on the staircases. That would come later.

You stared up at him blankly, “why would you care?”

You had struggled, waddling in your later months, crying when you couldn't paint your toes, Brock became a pro. Alex taking you out late at night for food runs or when your feet were too swollen he'd buy everything on, and not, the list.

Aiden had your eyes and Alex's dirty blond hair; the boy was quiet and sweet. Benny had your hair, completely untamable at times much like her personality. The three were unsure who that came from, but Brock was always proud when you and Alex blamed him for it.

Benny, being the oldest, seemed to drag Aiden into trouble, but you could already tell that the two would be defending the other for the rest of their lives, and that brought you much comfort.

"Can I…" he looked over as you yawned, "chocolate?"

"Alex can make you some."

"Ohhkay," you finally said, sounding defeated, moving to get up.

"If ya want I'll make it fit ya?"

"Mm!"

Christmas morning had come and gone, excited screams had filled the living room, wrapping paper strewn across every bit of furniture. Both Brock and Alex looking… excited. It warmed your heart, filling you with more love than you had thought possible.

How could this be real?

Tears streaked down your face, your fingers clutching at his shirt, "I like you! I would never cut you!" You cried, chest tight as you hiccuped through a sob.

You pinched yourself a few times throughout the day, afraid that you would wake up and he would be waiting for you demanding you to get up, but every time you exhaled and opened your eyes, you were still here.

"God dammit Y/N, you are so fucking cute. Tell Alex he can fuck off, you ain't going nowhere, understand?"

“Hey you heathens!” Four sets of eyes turned his way as he settled on the bar stool, it was new years, and the kids were stifling yawns, he grinned, “this chocolate isn’t gonna drink itself…”

Was this what happiness was?

Brock stilled, smiling as you immediately looked at him, brows pulling together in concern.

Fuck.

He was in fucking love with you.

Alex shoved the kids down onto you, the three of you screaming and stumbling over the other. Brock nearly doubled over as Alex snatched the largest mug and lifted it to his lips.

“Dad!!”

Alex lifted his eyebrows as he stared at the oldest of the twins, all barely three feet of righteous fury. “Hmm princess?”

Brock sniggered as he reached out for her, tugging Alex in for a quick kiss before settling Benny on his knee, the little girl reaching for a smaller cup and watching as Aiden was lifted and placed on the stool next to them. You leaned in against Alex, and he dropped his chin to the crown of your head, arm instinctively wrapping around your waist.

Brock stared, years ago, when he had been given a choice, leave Hydra and be under watch by SHIELD or years of prison. He never would have guessed this is what he had been headed towards.

“Daddy…”

He looked down at Benny, who stared up at him, “mm?”

“Wayne Peterson said it was un-uhm-unnn- to… to have two daddies and a mom.”

Old habits die hard, so what if he wanted to keep you and Alex? Both of you had the choice to walk away and here you both were.

He lifted his eyebrows as you looked at him, apparently having heard the story already. Alex sported a shit eating grin, oh this was gonna be good. “Is that what Wayne Peterson said?” She nodded matter of fact, “did you say something?”

“I told him what momma says. That we have more l-love than anyone else in the world.”

Brock stiffened, just as quickly relaxing as Benny looked up at him with a question in her eyes before he nudged her drink with his own cup.

“God, she knows what you’ve done? Who you are?”

She shoved a few strands of wild hair out of her face, licking her lips. Brock looked away, how you managed he wasn’t sure. This was all you; you brought them together, warmed the home, and gave them everything he had never dared to ask for. “But then he said Aiden was cross-cross- he called Aiden ugly, and I hit him in the mouth.”

No, it was your small frame that stepped in front of him, your small hand that cracked across Steve’s face.

Chocolate went everywhere, and Benny exclaimed as Brock wiped at his chin, grabbing napkins to clean her up. "Sweetheart-" he started, really could he blame her though? He had taught her to fight, especially since she was the rougher of the two and the oldest by three minutes. Brock closed his eyes, again that feeling swept over him.

You nodded, letting the tears fall, swallowing chocolate as you wailed angrily swiping at the tears.

Who knew that this would all come after that? Benny took the napkin from his hands; she was him all over again. He squeezed her tightly, ignoring the way she squealed and protested.

"Did ya get in trouble?" He asked.

She shook her head in answer, busying herself with the remainder of her chocolate. Brock looked over to find you watching him quietly; it always shocked him when he caught that look. The one that had love written all over it. You stared at Alex like that, too; it was his favorite stare.

"You don’t love me?” you asked so quietly you were sure he had missed it, “YOU DON’T LOVE ME?! JUST SAY IT!! TYLER SAID IT!! HE HATED ME!! ALL THE TIME!”

“Goddamn girl, I love you, don’t you ever question that!”

"I love you Brock."

That night on the bridge? He hadn't saved you.

You had saved him.

He wasn't brave.

Brock was beyond lucky.

He knew it.

"I love you," Alex looked away, quietly repeating the words as you giggled and pressed a kiss to his lips.

"I know," you answered, "come on then!" You hurried them.

Brock was content to move slowly, watching his small family. Sure, others thought it odd, but he didn't give a flying fuck. The other man was still a bit shy, even after all this time, but the tall blond was quieter by nature.

Alex grunted as the twins climbed on top of him as you turned the TV set on, switching to the channel with the video of the sparkly ball, which was being readied for the drop.

"You two aren't gonna make it," he laughed, the twins arguing but unable to stifle their yawns.

Brock knew they would be out in a matter of minutes, even when they frowned and set their faces in their determined looks. Benny blinking slower and Aiden comfortably snuggling in under Alex's chin.

Brock sank into the plush couch, your smaller frame quickly finding his, and he relaxed as you pressed a kiss to his jaw.

"We should go to the cabin…"

He grunted softly, sneaking around your waist, fingers seeking skin. "We should get babysitters -"

Alex snorted, and the kids made disgruntled noises.

"Have a weekend of just you two," he let you go long enough to poke Alex. "Like that idea?"

He nodded, settling in again, the kids stilling. "They're already asleep…" Brock hummed in awe before pressing a kiss to your temple.

You looked over to catch Alex wink at you; you blew him a kiss in return. This was more than enough. You were blessed. Beyond anything you could ever have dreamed of.

"Make a wish?" Brock asked and watched you smile softly, the crowd counting down in unison before you shook your head.

"It already came true…"

That little whisper.. his eyes stung, was it that late already? He had pulled all nighters before, he was tired, should have gone to bed…

You poked his cheek, "getting late old man? Tired?"

"Absolutely in love with you," he said. You stared at him in surprise, he chuckled in response. "Yeah, whatever," he scrubbed at his face, scratching at the permanent shadow among his jaw pausing when your fingers danced behind his.

"Whatever…"

****

A/N 2: I am a bit in love with these three and needed to give them one more story. A Happily Ever After. Thank you to all that followed this series and my soft!Brock, I am so grateful I could make others fall in love with him. 🥺🤣🤣

#precious chocolate #avengers au #brock x reader #brock rumlow #omc!alex

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max-nico · 2 years

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Amy Rose headcanons

If you have any headcanons put them in the tags, reply, or my ask box ! Any character you want me to focus on ? Message me, or hit my ask box ! Suggestions are always welcome .

Okay I don't care what canon says, Sonic's eyes are a dark emerald green and Amy's are a bright seafoam green.

You remember Amy's tarot cards? I think she has some minor abilities that have to do with witchy things like tarot cards, future telling, predictions, etc. That's why she tends to just KNOW where people are

But according to her it's "just a hunch"

Amy is very very strong, she can absolutely go toe to toe with Knuckles in hand to hand combat. I think they enjoy arm wrestling with each other, but their scores are normally tied

I also think she's the type to cheat during board games and not get caught, but also call out other people for cheating during board games since she just seems to always know ;)

Amy likes to carry Sonic to embarrass him, it's all in good fun... It's mostly fun for her.... But she would put him down if it bothered him that much

Amy can take up a whole room just by standing in it. She has a HUGE aura that everyone can feel. She's just so head strong and passionate, she's loud too, and confident. Plus her whole witch thing definitely gives her a strong aura

Amy is really in tune with people's emotions. She can feel the slightest change in people's moods which makes her really sociable and easy to be around

I think Amy dresses like,,, fairy grunge,,, if you know what that specific alternative category looks like. It has lots of long skirts paired with short crop tops, large bags, shawls or sweaters, with just a ✨dash✨ of glitter, usually earthy tones but I see her wearing a lot of white/red/green/pink (so her usual color palette)

Honestly just fairy-core in general for the most part

Amy can be naggy and a bit stand offish at times but it's just because she wants what's best for you, even if it feels like you're being treated like a kid sometimes

I also see her as the type to pack her friends lunches with cute little notes in them

Amy can't hide her emotions for shit, which is great for her friends so they all know when something is wrong.

She enjoys venting to Tails the most because she normally talks to him while he works, so all their conversations go like:

"And then he told me to GO AWAY, LIKE I DIDNT JUST SAVE HIS LIFE ! Can you believe him, Tails !?! Uhg ! He's just SO RUDE" .... "Uh huh... You're so right." .. "He should appreciate me more ! I do so much for him and what do I get back ?! NOTHING !!" .... "Uh huh... You're so right."

What can she say, she likes being told she's right.

Amy is ladylike with her mannerisms, like she sits with her legs crossed, makes eye contact when she speaks, holds her pinky out when she drinks tea, but she's not ladylike in the way she speaks. I don't think she has a big potty mouth or anything, but she can come off as rude at times. She speaks bluntly and tells you exactly how she feels, which can oftentimes lead to misunderstandings

I think Amy makes insecure men nervous, ya know like the ones who call women whores and stuff because they'll never be able to land a woman like her? Yeah, she makes those guys incredibly nervous.

I want to be her ❤️

Her quills are short, but if there's a will there's a way. Most of the time her quills (hair ig lol) are messy, you can normally tell when she's been busy just by the state her quills are in, but when she puts effort into her appearance?? Zoo wee mama them quills are gorgeous. Them bitches sleek, shiny, radiant

Amy in general tends to be radiant, mostly because of that mostly untapped magic she uses. I think she feels mythical when you're next to her, she feels powerful, and I love that for her

Alright that's all the headcanons I can think of right now, but I'll reblog with more if I think of some. If it becomes too many I'll just make post #2 electric boogaloo. Feel free to reblog with your own headcanons for her. I'll probably also do a post for how I think all the characters would dress, not just her lol

If you have any headcanons put them in the tags, reply, or my ask box ! Any character you want me to focus on ? Message me, or hit my ask box ! Suggestions are always welcome .

#sth #sonic the hedgehog #amy rose the hedgehog #amy rose #amy rose headcanons #sonic headcanons #headcanons #sth headcanons #miles tails prower #knuckles the echidna #i have the mic #amy the hedgehog #tw cursing

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chaoswithkaycee · 1 year

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Hellfire and Honeysuckle, Chapter Nine

Synopsis: A new girl has moved to Hawkins after the events of the hospital attack, with her own story and her own secrets. She's passionate about many things - her education, baking, friendship, kindness - and ready to finally make friends after a lifetime of running from place to place.

Warnings: descriptions of disability and comorbidity, disabled infantilization (and confrontation over it), unexpected nudity, voyeurism if you squint.

Rating: Guess what ya'll? The smut has arrived! Rated R for smut. oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), groping/fondling, nipple play, and premature ejaculation.

Author’s Note: I'm in a ten month dry spell so I was worried about my smut writing but my beautiful proofreader @queenlydias approved it and Winter never lies to me so I'll take it. Credit to @writerwannabetree and @thisishellfire for giving me the courage and support to start this series. I'm not sure how much longer it will go on, but I already know how it's going to end. Hang on tight, yall.

Honey

He’s here. She could smell him from the moment he came in the room, felt his warmth as he slipped under the blanket with her. Some part of her brain registered his hand tangling in her hair, his fingers brushing her scalp, but she couldn’t move. Her limbs were heavy with sleep, her eyes burned at even the thought of opening. She made a tiny noise in her throat that came out as a sigh, just to let him know she felt his presence, before she felt herself drifting away again.

He was asleep when she finally opened her eyes, one hand still tangled in her hair and the other around her waist, holding her to his chest. Honey wiggled, enough to put a few inches between them so she could lean back and look up at his sleeping face. The dark stubble along his upper lip and across his jaw, the sprinkle of light freckles over his cheeks and nose, the long lashes brushing his cheeks, the messy curls fluffed around his head. She didn’t need to study his face - not really. She had it memorized from all their moments together, from closing her eyes at night and thinking of him, from watching his face for a smile every morning. But there was something different about staring at his face now. She’d been in and out of sleep all morning, wondering if the confessions of the night before had been drug-fueled fantasies, but here he was. He was warm, and strong, and wrapped around her.

She wiggled again, pulling herself up just a little bit, enough to press her lips to his chin. One, twice, three times. Tiny pecks, lasting just long enough to feel the bristle of his stubble. As she leaned in for a fourth peck, she felt the hand tangled in her hair tighten, and only barely had time to take a breath before she felt his lips pressed against hers, pushing her down into the mattress. The kiss was sweet but passionate, and she took a moment to catch her breath after.

“Mornin’.” She finally gasped out, looking up at him. His hand was still wrapped in her hair, the other trailing up and down her side, taking care to keep pressure off the injured hip. He was smiling, a different type of smile than she’d seen before.

“It’s afternoon now, baby. 2pm, actually.” He held up his watch. 2:08pm, exactly. She sighed. She hated how much she slept on pain medication. “How are you feeling?” He asked, bringing her out of her regretful thoughts with a gentle squeeze on her upper thigh.

“Pain’s not so bad right now. Still there, but less than it’s been. I’m hungry and I need to pee, though.” She answered, doing a little potty-dance as best she could while still pressed into the mattress, as though to emphasize her point.

“Why don’t I go make you a pb&j while you go to the bathroom?” He asked, the fingers in her hair massaging her scalp. She nodded, and slowly he released her, slipping off the bed and helping her into her wheelchair.

Ten minutes later, they sat next to each other in the dining room that he’d somehow missed the entire time he’d been in and out of the house. She’d convinced him to make a sandwich for himself too, and though he wasn’t really hungry, he’d agreed to placate her.

“I’ll have to leave soon, to go back to the trailer and pack a bag.” He informed her, watching her raise an eyebrow.

“Pack a bag? Are you goin’ somewhere?” She asked around a mouthful of bread.

“No, but Pamela asked me to stay with you tonight while she’s at work, help take care of you. I need a change of clothes and a toothbrush, at least.” He answered, taking a much smaller bite of his sandwich.

“Pamela? Since when are you on a first-name basis with my Mama?” She asked, a giggle tumbling out.

“We talked a little bit this morning when I got here. Mostly just her making sure I had pure intentions with you.” He answered with a well-meaning smirk. “Although, she said something that I… Well, I didn’t understand what she meant. And I was afraid to ask. You don’t have to tell me either, but I’m curious.”

She swallowed her bite, shrugging. “Go ahead and ask, I’ll see if I’m comfortable explainin’.” She answered, taking another bite. He probably wanted to know more about her disability - she didn’t mind talking about it. She wanted people to understand her, not pity her.

“She said you’d never have to worry about getting pregnant. Are you on birth control or something?” He asked.

“Oh.” The air in the room changed. Honey put down her sandwich, leaning back in her chair and raking a shaky hand through the hair that had escaped her braids while she slept. “Yeah. So E-D-S- that’s Ehler’s Danlos, the disorder I have - it’s a multi-system disorder. It affects different systems in the body, some worse than others dependin’ on what subset you have. I have the misfortune of havin’ a lot of comorbidities from it. There’s the hypermobile joints, the easy bruisin’, the thin, stretchy, sensitive skin - All of which are more outwardly noticeable.”

He nodded, putting his own sandwich down and turning his body to face hers, giving her his full attention as he tried to digest the information.

“But it affects other systems too. My nervous system, my respiratory, my digestion, and my reproductive system have all been confirmed to have been affected. There’s also a chance it can affect my brain and heart, but there’s no sign of that yet.”

He nodded again, sliding a hand on her knee and rubbing as she spoke. She spoke like she was rattling off medical texts. “How has it affected those systems?” He asked, his thumb tracing the curve of her knee.

“Well, my nervous system is probably the least affected. I get bad migraines and I have some nerve damage along my spine from disk degeneration, so my hands shake sometimes and I don’t have great fine motor control - some, just not a lot -, but that’s not that bad in comparison. Digestive-wise, I just have a really sensitive stomach. I have to be careful what I eat and how much, and I end up with stomach aches and food poisonin’ symptoms way more often than I care to admit. At least once a week, honestly.”

He was still nodding along, though he glanced at her nearly-finished sandwich when she mentioned her stomach problems. “Is that why you bring a packed lunch and refuse school food?” He asked, and she nodded.

“Yeah. That and I’m a little picky. Where was I?” She shook her head a little, trying to clear it.

“Your respiratory system and reproductive.” He answered, still rubbing circles over her knee. His tongue darted out to lick his lips.

“Right. Respiratory - um, I have asthma, so I keep a rescue inhaler in my backpack and I have a nebulizer in my room. I’m also really prone to respiratory infections. I’ve had four bouts of bronchitis in the last six years, and the last one turned into pneumonia. I was almost intubated with that one.” She shivered a little, eyes sad. “It was really scary.” She admitted.

He reached up, pulling one of her hands down to lace their fingers in her lap. “I bet it was. Uncle Wayne had pneumonia when I was 12 and I was scared for him. What about your reproductive system?”

“My reproductive system seems to have been hit the worst. I was confirmed infertile when I was 13, had an ovarian torsion when I was 15.” He looked confused, so she elaborated before he could ask what that meant. “It’s where the ovary twists around its own stalk. That wasn’t caused by the EDS, just an unfortunate coincidence. But I told Mama that since I was infertile anyway, I didn’t want to risk it happenin’ again because it hurt a lot. It took a lot of convincin’, but I got both her and the doctor to agree to removin’ both ovaries. I still have my uterus, but it’s just there. I don’t have ovaries. I can’t get pregnant, ever.” She finished, watching his face.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He stated plainly. She shrugged. Most people had that reaction when she said she was infertile, honestly.

“It doesn’t bother me. I have enough health problems. A pregnancy would probably kill me. Also, I don’t want to pass my genes on anyway.” She took another bite.

“Can you still…you know? Have sex and..stuff?” His question was soft.

“I mean, I haven’t tried. But yeah, I can. I just…haven’t. I still do things myself and it turns out just fine, and the doctor said I’d be able to have a normal sexual life, I just can’t have kids.” She finished her sandwich, wiping her hands off on her sweatpants. “What about you?”

“Me? I mean, I think I can have kids-” He started, but she cut him off with a giggle.

“No, Eddie. I mean, have you had sex?”

“Oh. Uh, no, actually. I’ve fooled around with a couple of girls, mostly when I was a junior, but I haven’t…gone all the way with anyone.” He was pulling one of his curls in front of his face, suddenly shy.

She smiled. “That’s good to know.” She picked up her plate, putting it in her lap and wheeling herself out of the dining room to put her plate in the sink just as her mother emerged from her bedroom, bags under her eyes.

“Hey Honey, Eddie.” Pamela mumbled, reaching into the cabinet above the counter to start herself some coffee. “I’ll be headin’ out in an hour. Eddie, do you need to go grab yourself some things from your house?”

Eddie nodded. “Yes, mam. I can be back in about an hour.” He placed his own plate in the sink on top of Honey’s, brushing past her wheelchair and placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Okay then, she’ll be here when you get back.” Pamela answered, still blinking sleep out of her eyes as she mixed up her coffee, yawning.

Eddie smiled at the two women in the kitchen as he grabbed his jacket to go, and they smiled back. Once he was out the door, Pamela turned to Honey. “He seems nice.”

“He is nice, Mama. I wish you hadn’t talked to him without me knowin’, though.” Honey said, wheeling backwards a few inches so she didn’t have to crane her neck as much to see her mother.

“I’m sorry baby girl, I just wanted to have a chance to get to know him and make sure he wasn’t…I don’t know. Like your father, I guess. I wanted to make sure he was an honest man, even when you weren’t lookin’.”

“I know, Mama. But I’m not a baby. I know I have limitations, but I don’t like being treated like a child who doesn’t know any better just because I’m disabled. It’s infantilizin’ and uncomfortable. I wish you would have just asked me first.” Honey replied, leaning back in her wheelchair a little.

Mama gave a short nod of her head. “I don’t mean to make you feel that way, Honeysuckle. I’m sorry. I know you’re not a baby, but I just worry about you.” She squatted down, bringing herself a little closer to Honey’s height in the wheelchair. “You’re an amazin’ young woman, you’re smart and strong and so, so kind, and I love that about you. I don’t ever want you to feel like your limitations can stop you. I just want to make sure you have the support that you need, from me, from your friends, and from your partners. Okay?”

Honey nodded, and Mama patted her cheek and stood up, picking up her coffee and taking a sip. “You’re goin’ to work earlier than usual. Another double?” Honey asked.

Mama nodded. “More like a shift and a half. Mary-Anna’s son is comin’ in from college today and she wants to meet him at the house and get him settled. I’m takin’ the second half of her shift, then working my usual 12 hours.”

“Is there anythin’ you want me to do around the house while you’re workin’ tonight? Laundry, cleanin’, dishes?” Honey replied, following her mother into the living room.

“No, Honey. I want you to rest and heal. You know you’ve got to give your hip time to settle or it’s just gonna keep hurtin’.” Mama answered, putting her coffee down on the living room table to stretch.

“Can I go back to school on Monday?” Honey blurted out, then rushed on before her mother could answer. “It’s only a half day, I could have Eddie drive me in and drive me home, and we’d be off the rest of the week after that. Just one day, so I can pick up my missed assignments and see my friends? Please, Mama?” Honey put her hands together as though praying, bringing them up towards her mother.

“Honey, we’ve been over this.” Mama sat on the couch, facing Honey. “I know you miss school and your friends, but I don’t feel comfortable sendin’ you back just yet. You can go back after Thanksgiving.”

“But Mama, I’m already almost a week behind in my classes. It’s just one day. I promise, I’ll be careful, I’ll stay in my chair, I’ll ask others for help -”

“No, Honey.” Mama interrupted. “I’m sorry, but no. You can ask Eddie to get your missed schoolwork, or I can go pick it up Monday mornin’. But you’re not goin’ back to school until after Thanksgiving. If you want, you can have your friends over after school on Monday. But no, no school.”

Honey pouted, hands falling back into her lap. “But-”

“No.” Mama answered, voice stern. “I know you think I’m bein’ mean, but you have to let yourself heal.”

Honey sighed. She knew Mama was right. She’d have to talk to Eddie and see if they could bring the Party together at her house again after school on Monday. Maybe play for a few hours, or just hang out. She just knew she missed all of them. She’d been way too deep in her drug haze yesterday to really appreciate having them around.

“I’m gonna go take a shower, okay?” Mama stood, kissing the top of Honey’s head, taking her coffee into her room. Honey listened, hearing the shower in Mama’s bathroom turn on, before she wheeled herself back to her bedroom. She sat there for a few minutes, contemplating what to do. She wanted to distract herself from the dull ache in her hip, and her immediate thought was to sleep again. But no, she’d slept enough. She felt well enough to go without the medicine, which meant her mind was clear. She spent so long sitting there, debating on what to do, that she was still there when she heard her mother’s shower turn off. A bath. That’s what she needed. Wash the last of the drug haze off, clean herself up, and then maybe she’d work on some required reading for school until Eddie got back. Mind made up, she wheeled herself into the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie

The quick trip home felt cold without Honey - although that might have been because it was 30 degrees outside. Once home, Eddie threw items into his duffel bag almost without looking - something to sleep in, something to wear tomorrow, a toothbrush, a hairbrush, his D&D notebook - just in case he needed something to do. He scribbled out a note for Wayne, leaving it on the kitchen counter for him, before he headed back out to the van and took off back to Honey’s house. Between driving home, packing his bag, writing his note, stopping for gas, and driving back to her house, the whole trip couldn’t have taken more than an hour; but when he pulled up, Pamela’s car was gone.

Grabbing his bag, he headed inside, finding the door unlocked. He kicked his shoes off, closing the door softly to avoid waking Honey if she had gone back to sleep. He was just outside her room when he heard her humming from inside, a different song than usual. He didn’t know this one - it wasn’t a popular song, clearly. It was slow, sweet, and low. Maybe a hymn? But she wasn’t religious, why would she be humming a hymn? He shrugged it off, feeling a wicked grin settle on his face. Should he jump through her door and shout ‘BOO’? No, probably not. But would it be funny for half a second, knowing he could grovel for her forgiveness the rest of the night? Absolutely. Silently, he set his duffel bag down, turning the knob on her door gently so it wouldn’t make noise. With a deep breath, he swung the door open, throwing himself into her room.

“BOO - Oh my god!” Quickly, he slapped his hand over his eyes as she shrieked, pulling her towel up to cover her nude body, water droplets flying from her hair. “I’m sorry Honey! I didn’t realize you were - oh my god, I’m so sorry. Jesus, oh my god.” He muttered, eyes squeezed shut behind his hand as he felt himself blush.

“Damn it Eddie!” She half-shouted back. “I’m tryin’ to get dressed!” She didn’t sound angry, more surprised than anything.

He turned his back to her, staring at the blank wall. “Should I step out or…?” He wasn’t really sure what to do. He didn’t mind stepping out, but he didn’t want to accidentally see any more of her in the process.

“Just…just don’t look. Give me a minute. I’ll let you know when I’m decent.” Her voice was a little softer, and he could hear her rustling through her dresser drawers.

Eddie bit his lip, keeping his eyes trained on a speck of dirt on her otherwise clean wallpaper. He took a breath, willing himself to think about anything but the brief glimpse of her body that he’d seen. Of course, trying not to think of it just meant that he couldn’t stop thinking about it. The drops of water coming from her hair, dripping down to her pink nipples - hard from the cold, and begging to be touched. The soft, squishy roundness of her hips and stomach, the little tuft of strawberry-blonde curls between her legs, the thick thighs he wanted to grab and kiss. He bit back a groan, closing his eyes and reminding himself to try and breathe as his pants became uncomfortably tight.

“Okay, I’m dressed.” She said it so quietly that he almost didn’t hear her. He turned. She was leaning against the dresser, holding herself up to keep pressure off her hip, a deep red blush covering her face and bleeding down into her chest.

“I’m so sorry Honey, I didn’t mean to-” He started, then stopped himself. He did mean to jump in and give her a little scare, he just didn’t realize she’d be naked. “I mean, I just wanted to surprise you, I didn’t realize you were…” He trailed off, blushing, as he pulled a curl in front of his face again.

“It’s fine, it’s passed.” She mumbled, looking anywhere but at him.

He walked over, placing his hands on her dresser and leaning over her so that she was caged in by his body and his arms. He grew bold. “If it’s any consolation, Honey…I think your body is beautiful. You’re not embarrassed by it, right?” He asked, bringing one hand up to raise her chin, forcing her to look at him.

She shook her head. “No, I like my body.” She mumbled, eyes trailing over his freckles.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, pressing a little closer. She nodded, and he leaned in, sliding one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist. From the gasp she let out, he knew she could feel how hard he was as he pressed himself into her. He pulled back, lips still pressed together, and spoke against her mouth. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, I promise. But I really, really want to touch you, if that’s okay.” He whispered, eyes closed, reveling in her softness. “I won’t do anything until you say yes.” He added.

She stayed quiet for a few seconds, thinking. “I’m not ready to go all the way,” She finally said, pausing for a shaky breath. “But I wouldn’t mind…foolin’ around a little. It’s just…my first time, you know? I don’t really know what to - or how to -” She’d started to sputter a little now, clearly embarrassed by her inexperience.

“Hey, hey, Honey, it’s okay.” He pulled his face away from hers to make eye contact. “I don’t have a lot of experience either, remember? We’ll just do what feels right, and if you want me to stop, I will. Okay?” He brought the hand around her shoulders up, pushing her partially-dry curls out of her face. “I’ve wanted to touch you since the first time I met you. I can wait longer if you need me to. We can stop right here if you want, go watch a movie, or cuddle for a while. Or we can do a little more. I don’t mind.”

She was looking up at him with those big, wet, gray eyes, searching his face, chewing the corner of her lower lip. “I want to keep goin’.” She finally stated, sliding her hands up his chest and wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’ve thought about you like that for a long time.” She admitted.

“Like what?” He asked, leaning down to kiss her cheek, trailing his lips down to her neck as he slipped both arms around her waist now.

“I mean I’ve thought about you while I’ve…taken care of myself.” She muttered against his hair.

He groaned against her neck, arms tightening, as he lifted her up to turn her around and deposit her on her bed. She squealed, then giggled as he came to rest over her body again. “You can’t just say something like that and not expect me to want you.” He whispered, capturing her lips again. Remembering her injured hip, he moved carefully, slowly pushing his hips between her legs, allowing her to open her legs at her own pace so that he could press against her. “Tell me if I hurt you, okay?” He muttered as he pulled his mouth away for a minute. She nodded against him, and he moved back in again.

When they finally separated for air, he was harder than he could ever remember being. He traced the strap of her tank top with his fingers, waiting for her to stop him. When she didn’t, he let his hands wander down to the hem. “Can I take it off?” He asked, fingers gripping the edge, feeling the heat of her skin just underneath.

“Yes.” She lifted herself, just a little bit, and he pulled the tank top over her head, his eyes instantly going to her breasts.

“Jesus Christ.” He breathed, bringing his face down to kiss the slope of one. “I knew you were beautiful, but shit. You’re amazing.” He kissed closer to her nipple, hearing her take a sharp breath to calm herself. “Breathtaking.” He added, one kiss closer. “Perfect.” And he took her nipple into his mouth, flicking over it with his tongue as he brought his hand up, pinching her other nipple gently.

All at once, as though a switch flipped, her nervousness and shyness had gone. She whimpered, lifting her back to press her breasts against his mouth and fingers, her own hands coming to tangle in his hair and hold him to her. He grinned against her skin, eyes closed, and sucked her nipple harder into his mouth, bringing his teeth together for a gentle nibble. “Eddie.” She whined, one hand releasing his hair to grip his shoulder.

He pulled his head back, still rolling her other nipple between his fingers. “Yes, princess?” He asked, grinning. Her eyes were half closed, a pink flush across her cheeks. God, she was really beautiful. “What do you need, baby?” He asked, bumping her nose with his, trailing his lips against hers.

“I don’t know.” She admitted, gasping. “But…more. Just more.” She lifted her hips, pressing herself against him, squirming under him.

He groaned again, his head dropping to litter kisses across her collarbone as he pressed himself against her, stilling her hips against the mattress. “I want to give you more.” He whispered against her skin, standing and stripping his shirt off. He watched her eyes rake over his chest and tattoos as his fingers slipped down, down, down, to the waistband of her sweatpants. He hooked his fingers in, catching her panties at the same time, and raised his eyes to hers in a silent question. She swallowed, nodded, and lifted her hips.

In one swift motion, her sweatpants and panties were puddled on the bedroom floor, and she was naked in front of him again - this time, by choice. He trailed his lips along her calf, over her knee, to her thighs, pressing little kisses into her soft skin, being careful not to jostle her injured hip. He lifted her good leg, hooking her knee over his shoulder, and latched his lips to the doughy flesh of her thigh, marveling at the smell of her. “Tell me if you want to stop.” He reminded her, placing kisses closer and closer to where he wanted to be. She never stopped him, and after a few seconds, he found himself pressing his tongue against her opening, finally tasting her.

He wasn’t even surprised to realize she tasted almost sweet, but he was happy with the discovery. He pressed further, bringing his tongue up to circle her clit before wrapping his lips around the nub and sucking it, hard. She gasped, pulling her hips back. “Too much.” She whined. “Softer.”

He looked up at her, watching her through half lidded eyes. Her head was tilted back, her hands gripping the blanket - that same blanket he’d given her -, her breathing quick. He moved in again, sucking her clit back into his mouth, softer. This time, it was right. Her tense thighs relaxed, opening a little more, and she let out a moan.

“Do that again.” He demanded, sucking again, this time adding a flick with his tongue. She followed his order, moaning again, and he dug his fingers into her thigh, pushing it back to open her even more for him. He pulled his lips off of her, licking them. “Can I give you more, baby?” He asked, the fingers of his other hand ghosting over her wet pussy lips.

She opened her eyes to look at him, still gripping the blanket like she’d fly away. “Yes, please.” She whispered. He dropped his head against her thigh, grinning. Even in this state, she was polite. Pleases and thank you’s. He couldn’t get over her.

Slowly, always giving her time to change her mind, he let his fingers trace up and down her opening, waiting until she was squirming before he finally pushed one in. She gasped, halting her movements. Slowly, he started to move his finger, gently pressing upwards into that spongy spot he’d found inside his first girlfriend three years before. He knew when he found the spot in Honey, because her eyes shot open and she pulled herself up, propping herself up on her elbows to watch him. He grinned, adding another finger, listening to her whimpers become moans again.

He could feel her tightening around him, could see the blush in her face spreading to her chest and shoulders. She was getting close to her first orgasm with someone other than herself, and he was watching in awe, waiting for that moment where she’d fall over the precipice. Desperate to see her fall apart, he pressed his fingers up harder, rubbing that spongy spot, and brought his mouth down to her clit again.

That was all it took. One gentle suck, combined with the pressure of his fingers, and she came undone. Her head fell back, eyes closed, thighs squeezing around him, hips bucking up to meet him, her moans getting louder and louder until finally, she stilled and let herself drop back onto the mattress. He felt the coil inside his own stomach suddenly explode, with no warning, coating the inside of his boxers with his own release. He moaned against her clit, both shocked and satisfied.

When her insides stopped fluttering around his fingers, he slowly withdrew them, hearing her whine at the loss. He chuckled, bringing his fingers to his mouth to suck the taste of her off of them, before leaning down to kiss her again. She raised her head weakly, meeting his lips.

“What about you?” She whispered, hands already sliding down his bare stomach and towards his pants. He grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

“Baby, I…I came in my pants already. It doesn’t usually happen, it’s just been awhile since…” He was suddenly shy again, burying his face into her neck. “I’ll go clean myself up in a second.” He added.

She giggled, her fingers tangling in his hair. “It’s okay.” She whispered, kissing his forehead. “I’m definitely going to give you more chances to keep doing that.”

Now it was his turn to whine. She was going to be the death of him.

#eddie munson fanfic #ehlers danlos awareness #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #disabled #disability #actually disabled #stranger things fanfiction #plus size girl #stranger things

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mellowsadistic · 1 year

Text

Karen smirked as she scrubbed the bathroom walls. She’d been furious when she’d found her husband in bed with another woman, but now that things had settled down, it was clear she’d come out on top.

Her husband had sat her down (and hadn’t there been some strange music playing in the background?) and explained all about how their relationship would have to change – that he would have to make up for cheating on her by ensuring that she was well and truly pampered.

Karen’s soaking wet nappy squelched between her legs as she moved around the tub squirting and scrubbing all the surfaces to make them sparkly clean.

Sure, she had to do lots of chores now, like doing all the cooking and cleaning for Daddy and his mistress, but she didn’t have to go to her stupid job anymore. Her husband had rung up and told them she’d quit! She’d actually been angry at first because for some reason she’d thought she wanted to keep doing her dumb high-powered career, but then her husband had explained to her how much better it would be to be a happy little housewife instead. Doing the laundry was so much easier than… than whatever it was she’d been doing before. Law? Medicine? She wasn’t sure.

Karen shook her head, making her hair flap about her face. It didn’t matter. Her head was nice and empty now. Free from responsibilities and stress. Her smirk grew into a satisfied grin. Yes, that stupid homewrecker had really got the worse deal.

Karen had her own room now, and she even got to sleep in a really comfy bed that had bars on the sides to stop her falling out. Meanwhile that dumb bitch her husband had been fucking had to share a bed with him, and she didn’t get a special high-chair to eat her din-dins in like Karen did. Nothing made Karen feel more superior than when she was looking down at her husband’s mistress at the dinner table, watching the woman eat with a knife and fork while Daddy spoon-fed her baby food (she didn’t even have to chew!) and wiped her messy face for her. After all, what did being pampered mean if not having all her needs taken care of for her?

Well, there was one other thing. Karen glanced over at the toilet with a sneer. She didn’t have to use the stupid potty anymore. Being pampered meant she got to wear her thick, adult-sized Pampers instead! No more sitting on cold, icky potties for her. She just went in her pants and left the rest up to Daddy!

At that moment, she heard footsteps approaching, and she turned around to see her husband appear at the bathroom door.

“Hi, Daddy!” she blurted, blushing a little and feeling butterflies flutter in her stomach at the sight of him.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he cooed, his eyes glittering. His eyes darted down to the drooping diaper between her thighs, and he smirked. Then he looked around the bathroom. “Aren’t you finished in here yet?” he asked.

“Not yet, Daddy,” Karen said.

“Well make sure it’s done soon or you’ll get a red bottom,” said her husband sternly. “Elanor will be back from work soon and I want the house spotless when she arrives.”

Karen nodded earnestly and performed a curtsey – although she had to pretend to hold the edges of her skirt since she never wore anything but her nappy below the waist.

“Good girl,” Daddy said, and Karen felt her pussy pulse in her sodden diaper.

Once he’d left, she went back to her scrubbing straight away, determined to finish the bathroom as quickly as she could. She was so lucky Daddy cared about her enough to spank her. His mistress never got spanked.

Just then, Karen felt a slight pressure in her bladder, and she immediately let go, flooding her already drenched diaper with a strong gush of pee-pee. It was yucky and squishy and stinky, but that was okay. It was a small price to pay to get pampered. Karen smirked once more as she got down on her knees and started cleaning the toilet that she would never use again. Yes, she’d definitely come out on top.

#mellowsadistic

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tteokdoroki · 3 years

Text

had it | k.bakugou.

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 4.5K

♡ rating: everyone.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff, comfort.

♡ summary: your pro hero husband is a show off, always has and always will be... but when his big ego gets in the way of you doing your job, you give him little piece of your mind..

♡ warning(s): please read ! mentions of violence, i gave reader a quirk?? bakugou with a daughter ok literally nothing. oh and angst if you squint.

♡ author’s note(s): hi besties!! happy birthday to meee!! today i’m dropping a fic that’s been a long time coming, its a short and fluffy little piece with domestic baku bc i love him with babies n kids ok ok!! i hope you all have a lovely day <3

♡ masterlist | requests | kofi

some say that working for a pro hero is an honour, no matter what the position is. some may work behind the scenes— creating gear and suits that support the pros protecting their cities or livelihoods. others are in charge of things like reports, PR and even physical health. everyone plays an important role in a hero's career. there’s never a dull moment working in a team supporting the pros, especially if that pro was dynamight.

the offices for katsuki bakugou’s hero agency were always buzzing; usually because the clean up team were rushing through with stacks upon stacks of receipts and paperwork from the damage done during bakugou’s patrols— other times it would be his secretaries gossiping about how good he looks in his winter costume because damn did that tight black shirt do his arms justice but usually it was just because of the PR team contacting media outlets with excuses for bakugou’s potty mouth.

working for the hot headed blonde was more laid back than it seemed however, the man himself was rarely ever in the office as the number two hero but out on missions instead, the pay was pretty decent and no one ever really faced his angry wrath nor his sailor like mouth unless they had royally fucked up on their job. katsuki bakugou was someone to admire, he never gave a damn about what people had to say about him— he only cared about getting the job done and maybe that’s why most people enjoyed their time under the dynamight agency.

particularly this time, right around noon.

the doors to the floor of the secretary offices fly open, crashing loudly against the walls and drawing the staff from their daily work. this office space is around ten floors up and somehow you’ve made it in record time today. “where is he?” your voice crawls through the entrance of the room, settling over the workers like a thick fog— commanding, menacing and soft all at the same time. newbies cower in their boots, confused at what’s going on and it’s safe to presume those who have been working here for years have yet to give them the run down. “don’t make me ask again.” you add, eyes darkening as you cast your gaze across the room.

an intern approaches you, visibly shaking with fear which makes you loosen your stance and raise an eyebrow toward them. “he-uh... he just went for his lunch break—“ the stutter, gulping under the stare of another highly ranked pro hero. “in his...office— ma’am!” they stumble through their words, hiding behind the ungodly amount of paperwork that's been dumped into their hands. you make a mental note to chew bakugou out on the load his interns have been getting as well as your prior reasons for coming to his agency.

nonetheless you shake your head and drop the frown, a sweet smile quickly replacing the look that could put anyone six feet under if you really tried. with a tap to the side of your head, the visor to your hero costume rises above your eyes— allowing you to give the poor little intern a cheeky wink as thanks. “‘ppreciate it darling, have a good one!” you thank them properly with a ruffle to their hair, resuming your previous stance as you march the rest of the way through the office and kick open the door at the end of the room.

the intern sags, a whimper of relief passing from tired lips while they wipe at the sweat forming on their brow. they’d not even encountered their boss yet and they’d already come face to face with a top pro hero. “w-what’s her deal?”

a chuckle to the left of the poor kid startles them out of their mind; but they relax upon realising it’s just another one of dynamight’s secretaries— haruto, who’d apparently been working at the agency since it started up. “that’s nightsky, her quirk is lullaby, which allows her to control certain people if she hits the right note. she can also put them to sleep, if she really wants to,” the intern now perks up, remembering you from countless interviews on tv. you ranked pretty highly too, managing to the reach the top five this year along with others like shoto and deku. “she owns the hero agency across the street, herself and dynamight have been going at it ever since. it’s like they’re elderly lovers or somethin‘.”

“d-do you think they are? lovers like you say?” the intern asks a little too excitedly, touching at their messy hair from where you’d ruffled it. a crimson blush warms their cheeks, the idea of two pros playing enemies to the public eye but being lovers in secret seemed like something right out of a romance novel. how romantic.

haruto only chuckles at the newbie, standing to ruffle their hair as well before heading over to the coffee stand to fix himself a cup. “beats me,” he mumbles cheerily as he walks away, arms crossed behind his head. “but with the way yn bursts in here at the same time everyday to scold bakugou, and leaves with a huge smile on her face— i wouldn’t put it past them. they probably have a whole life together.” he taps his nose once as if he’s given away too much information, turning away without a word.

the intern hums, seemingly happy with their superior’s answer and easily heads back to work from there.

katsuki bakugou was bored out of his mind.

being a successful pro hero was all he’d ever wanted— being the number two pro hero just came with that. bakugou wanted to get to the top and show everyone he was the best of the best and with him being blessed with a powerful quirk there was no way he couldn’t be where he was today. yet, now that he’d finally achieved his dream all he wanted was a fucking break. the blonde stares down at his microwaveable bowl of home cooked stew, a frown cutting deep into his cheeks. it was his lunch break for crying out loud, but instead of scarfing down the delicious meal before him, the hero was forced to watch it cool as some dumb fuck reporter asked him questions over the phone.

the telephone interview ( or a waste of his fucking time, as katsuki had called it ) , had been set up by his PR team right after he’d taken down a couple low level villains downtown earlier this morning. katsuki had called it nothing but apparently the whole world and their mother had been on his ass, watching as he took the criminals down with ease and raving about how glorious dynamight was during that fight. the reporter drones on about said event, asking the same old questions and it takes everything within the hot headed pro not to blow a casket— he’d been promised a few extra days off from his manager if he could finish the interview without blowing something up and only god knew how much katsuki needed a break from dumb paps and some overly obsessive fans.

‘so, final question, how does it feel to be the number two?’

bakugou grunts, buying himself time to formulate an answer. what he really wants to do is kindly tell the reporter to fuck off and ask more original questions; but with the prize of a longer weekend hanging in the balance he bites his tongue for the sake of freedom. “well i—“

“katsuki bakugou.” your voice cuts through his sentence before he can finish, vermillion eyes land on your hero costume clad form as you burst into his office. a lazy smirk now decorates the hero’s lips, brow quirked with piqued interest. “i have a bone to pick with you, you motherfucker.”

the reporter on the other end falls silent as katsuki watches you, leaning back in his plush leather chair. you look slightly disheveled, costume torn in a few places, scrapes littering your skin as you pant heavily from exertion— chest rising and falling with every breath, it seems ragged and bakugou makes a mental note to remind you to get your ribs checked out later. “you’re late, shitty woman.” the number two sits up a little straighter as you enter the room, leaning up to look at you while you slam your hands down on the smooth marble desk— the force rattling the items he has neatly placed on it.

‘uh-? mister...dynamight-? sir?’

your eyes sweep the room while the pro before you deals with the reporter, mentioning to her that they’ll have to continue their call later. in the meantime, you note that katsuki’s office is meticulously clean, not a single book, folder or pen out of place— it’s high up with a perfect view of the city and the large windows allow golden beams of the sun to light up the room. the sound of a phone being placed back on its hook brings you from your thoughts; annoyance settling deep in your veins as you turn to face bakugou again.

“i had it,” you growl lowly, jumping the gun before he can even register what you’ve said. “i’m a grown woman, katsuki, i can handle a couple of criminals myself, you know.”

the blasting hero does nothing but smirk even wider at the irked tone that litters your voice, standing up as well to tower over you. bakugou still wears his own hero costume, considerably in less damage than yours— not a single tear had formed in his suit, mind the small scratches on his face no doubt from his stupid explosions creating some debris. leaning over the desk between you, bakugou uses a forefinger and thumb to tilt your head up, bringing you even closer than before. “clearly y’didn’t sweetheart, or otherwise that icyhot bastard wouldn’t have needed to back you up ‘fore i got there...” his timbre voice sends sparks of electricity through the air in the room, it’s low and gravelly which is enough to send shivers down your spine but you’re not about to let katsuki bakugou know that he makes you flustered— it’d go straight to his head, the cocky bastard.

nonetheless; you roll your eyes at the mention of your old classmate and fellow pro hero— shoto todoroki. yourself and shoto got along fairly well, even back in high school, so it was normal for you to work together from time to time; you both made a great team and your skill set complimented each other’s well. katsuki was just jealous. he never really got along with todoroki like that. “he didn’t back me up, we were working together,” you snap back at the blonde, shaking yourself from bakugou’s grasp and flicking him right between those alluring vermillion eyes. “something you might not be familiar with, mister number two.” bakugou backs away from you completely ( only wincing slightly ), making you smirk in victory. you’ve struck a nerve. deciding to leave the conversation at that, you turn to make your exit as he collapses back into his seat with a deathly scowl and a quiet ‘tch’. “like i said, i had it, dynamight. next time, don’t jump in uninvited.”

happy that you got the last laugh, you open the door to leave his office but pause when a wave of heat hits your back. you should have known, katsuki bakugou was never one to back down from a challenge and you certainly weren’t an exception. well shit. when you turn around to face the blonde, small explosions spark from his right hand and he has some what of a look of a feral pomeranian, blood red eyes full of rage.

you visibly gulp and katsuki growls out his next words with the upmost venom, designed to hurt and cut at your feelings. “well maybe y’sudda let the actual pros handle shit like this,” bakugou begins, voice rising in volume with every syllable that passes his lips. “we both know you’re no good at short distance attacks with your quirk, shitty woman, you couldn’t have taken those villains down without me.” the blonde finishes with a short ‘tsk’, settling the explosions that spark in his palms. now it’s your turn to be pissed. you could handle katsuki’s jealousy, his petty reasoning for joining you on your patrol and taking the credit but bashing you and your quirk? no way in hell would he get away with that.

“bakugou?”

“what? the fuck y’still here for?”

you roll your shoulders, gracing the blonde with a devilish smile as your eyes light up mischievously. “why are you hitting yourself, bakugou?” you sing, hitting just the right notes that will have him under your spell, the tone in your voice as smooth as chocolate. katsuki’s eyes widen in horror and before he can stop himself, his free hand comes up to slap him across the face. that was your quirk, lullaby. you had the ability to sing your way out of any situation— adjusting the tune of your song to control the actions of certain individuals or groups of people. it was near impossible to resist but the more people you used your quirk on, the weaker your control over them was. that doesn’t mean you weren’t going to use it on bakugou from time to time. the blonde tries to fight it, he really does, but he’s no use up against your ability— losing all control of his own body. he grunts on impact, looking bewildered for a moment as he moves to grab his own wrist to stop any impending blows. “not so cocky now, are we dynamight?”

“h-hey!” he stammers, refusing to accept defeat against you. “shitty woman, no fuckin’ fair. you know i can’t use my quirk against you in here.” he was right, while your quirk was poor against short distance attacks ( meaning you had to result to hand to hand combat ), bakugou couldn’t use his own in enclosed spaces without hurting anyone he didn’t want to. especially you, he would never hurt you intentionally unless you were sparring.

“shoulda thought about that before you decided to taunt me, you know better than to piss off your wife, katsu.” you chide, still smiling just as brightly as you were earlier, before taking a seat on his desk and folding one leg over the other. it was quite amusing to watch your husband of four years fight against himself— everyone knew katsuki had an unbelievable amount of strength even without his quirk so he was definitely beating himself up ( literally and figuratively ).

bakugou looks up at you through gritted teeth while he struggles to keep the wrist you have control of down and you almost feel bad for the guy. “turn it off, dammit!” he curses at you, said hand rising above his free one to tug at his own sun kissed locks.

feigning interest in the objects on your lover's desk, you ignore his pleas for you to release him from the holds of your quirk and hum “apologise.”

“f-fuck... fuck y-you.”

you sigh knowingly, picking up a hand crafted paperweight, covered in glitter and sequin stars, inspecting it carefully. bakugou could hardly ever say the word ‘sorry’, it was just in his nature and he’d been that way since you were young. part of you knows it’s because of how he was treated as a child where people praised him for his quirk. that meant he became prideful yes, thought highly of himself too and struggled to admit when others were right...but he had his own way of apologising— through actions instead of words.

like when you first moved in together and he had broken your favourite mug, instead of saying he was sorry, he spent all night super glueing it back together for you to use in the morning. to him, actions were louder than words but you right now; you were being mean and just wanted to hear him say it.

“fuck fuck, fine. alright. ‘m sorry.” bakugou lets out a strained growl as the hand you control gives a particularly hard yank to his hair. “i’m sorry for lying about your quirk. it’s not shitty…’n ‘m sorry for... barging in on your patrol. again.” you grin, satisfied with his answer and grab the hand he keeps down with his wrist. you press a simple kiss to the skin, making your husband blush as you release your hold over the limb. katsuki shyly yanks it from your grip, rubbing over the area that you’d kissed, shooting his gaze to the side in the process. “jesus shitty woman, if i don’t die from being a hero or of old fucking age, i know for a fact you’ll be the one to kill me first.” he mutters harshly under his breath, but you know he’s only kidding from the way his hands now fall to your thighs and his fingers rub small circles into the exposed skin.

“pro hero nightsky murders number two pro hero dynamight in cold blood!” you joke as if you’re reading a headline in a news article, katsuki only glares up at you— making no effort to curse you out because of your shitty joke, which causes you to frown while leaning forward to brush some of his hair away from his face. “you know i’m only kidding right? is something wrong? did i come at a bad time?”

it’s only now that you notice the exhausted expression that paints your lover’s face. he’s always up to playing this game with you, at the same time every day— you come to bother him about some trivial matter, tease him a bit and leave with a kiss. but today, you can tell he’s trying to hide something from you. something that bothers him.

bakugou shakes his head, leaning into your touch as you play with his hair— a habit he’d picked up from even before you started dating back in high school, although he’d never admit that to you if you’d asked. “nothin’, just this stupid fuckin’ interview the PR team want me to do about the fight today. the one i took from you,” your husband smirks slightly at the thought and you roll your eyes for what seems like the nine hundredth time that afternoon. “didn’t get to finish my fuckin’ lunch but they promised me a couple days off if i got the interview done.”

“better the number two than me, eh? but don’t worry, i’ll order us some take out tonight,” your suggest, voice coming out as soft and mingling with your slight giggle— a quiet melody to katsuki’s ears. your only reply from him is a grunt, so you stop your fingers in his hair and watch as he scowls up at you. you quickly press a kiss to the explosive hero’s lips, pulling away to reveal his blushing face. you smile, knowing that you’re the only one who can make him flush red like that. “there’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?”

if there’s one thing katsuki bakugou hates, it’s how you read him like an open book. one look at him and it’s like you know exactly how he’s feeling. he can never hide anything from you— sometimes that both pisses him off and reminds him of how much he is loved by you. he hesitates with his words at first but decides to confide in you anyway, knowing that you’ll get it out of him in one way or another. “‘m worried about you, dumbass.” he mumbles, nudging your hand with his head as if to ask you to continue your earlier actions. “i know you had it, yer fuckin’ powerful but you looked so tired in that fight today ‘n i thought something bad was gonna happen to you, y’fuckin’ shitty woman.”

he toys with the tears in your costume now, smoothing over scars from your bumps and scratches as a result of combat. “oh lovebug,” you mumble, cupping his cheeks to make him look up at you. “you know i can handle my own, they just took a lot out of me today. i promise i’ll—“

“that’s not it, fuck,” katsuki cuts you off, brows furrowing deeply as he grabs your wrists— pulling your from his desk and into his lap. he holds you close, burying his nose into your neck as if you’re going to disappear. you sit still, a little shocked by his actions and his quick change of mood, but wrap your arms around him anyway and slowly fall silent. “it's just that...we’re both pros now and at the top of our ranks ‘n we both have a lot to lose.” you instinctively cling tighter to katsuki, mind flickering to the homemade paperweight you’d spotted on his desk earlier... causing your heart clench.

your daughter had made that for him during her time at preschool for fathers day; something your husband cherished with his whole heart, even if the thing was still sticky with glue when he’d gotten it.

katsuki loved taiga more than anything in the world and if something had happened to her because of your line of work, you don’t know what either of you would do. “what if something were to happen to you? or to me? or shit...both of us? who would look after taiga? you know what happens to kids who end up in the fucking system.” bakugou pauses, the same tired expression from earlier now sitting heavily on his face. “i just want you to be careful, stop pushing yourself so much, y’fuckin’ dumbasss. we have a family take care of. it’s not just you and i anymore.”

you nod, grasping onto your lover’s clothes tightly. the air is flooded with a comfortable silence, the pair of you holding one another right the way through it. you treasure moments like this, where the world stops and katsuki shows you another, more vulnerable side to him.

he would never admit or show this to anyone; but he cares , more than he lets on... especially for you and especially for your daughter. he was attentive, paid attention to you and your weaknesses and helped you overcome them. it was something you couldn’t stop loving about him. “i promise to be more careful, for you and for taiga,” you say quietly after he’s done scolding you, brushing your lips against the side of his head in a soft peck. “that must’ve been why jumped in earlier, you were worried about me?”

“somethin’ like that, you crazy woman,,” bakugou whispers, there’s a tinge of fondness to his ruby eyes as you pull away to look at him, his hands settling on your hips while he moves up to press a soft kiss to your awaiting lips. “didn’t want you getting yourself killed.”

you stay with katsuki in the office for a little longer than usual, laying on his chest as he prattles away about everything and anything even though he should be working. you make sure he eats his lunch, despite how cold it is and promise him a boat load of take out when he comes home later— your sweet cuddling session only being cut short by a call from your assistant to tell you that your daughter is ready to be picked up from school. “better finish that interview katsu, taiga’ll be happy to know her daddy’s getting some time off to spend with her soon,” you remind him as you gather yourself together, your husband pouting ( he swears on his life he wasn’t ) from the loss of your warmth in his lap. “she has a lot to tell you.”

the blonde quirks a brow, watching you as you head for the door. “yeah? like what?” a hand comes up to cover your mouth as you giggle at his curious face. sometimes, when you look at katsuki, you could see how much your daughter resembles him, right down to his mannerisms. she had somehow inherited the shape of your nose and the brightness of your smile ( the only reason barely anyone realised bakugou had a kid, he never fucking smiled. ) but the bakugou genes were incredibly strong so there was no way she’d miss out on those crimson eyes and uncontrollable, untameable messy blonde hair.

she even acted like him. a very brazen little girl who knew what she wanted and how to get it, so she had her daddy wrapped around her stubby little fingers.

you grin, eyes sparkling with the same mischief as before. “oh y’know, just her little crush on midoriya’s boy.”

“yer fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”

“i would never joke about such a thing, just make sure you’re home in time for dinner, number two!” you squeal, dashing out of the office before your husband has time to demand more answers from you. slamming the door shut, you chuckle at the melody of curses that leave your husbands mouth before heading off to pick up your daughter.

on your way, you admit to yourself , that maybe you didn’t have this fight in the bag. but what you did have; was a loving husband, a beautiful daughter and the best life you could have ever imagined.

extended ending:

“so, taiga... daddy hears you have a little... crush on someone.”

you’re in the kitchen, washing the dishes from tonight’s dinner as bakugou wipes tentatively at your little girl’s messy face— she was a poor eater but it’s something you didn’t mind, not when your husband was so soft with cleaning her up. you can see them from where you stand, watching katsuki knowingly.

taiga looks up from the colouring you’d set out for her when she finished up her meal, crimson eyes shining brightly as she fixes her gaze on her father. “mhm mhm!! he’s mister deku’s son! and i’m gonna marry him!”

“no yer not.” bakugou answers simply, looking close to popping a vein.

“why not?”

your husband scoffs, throwing away the tissue he’d used to clean his little girl up before joining her in her colouring. “‘cause daddy says so ‘n boys are gross, especially ones who’s dad’s look like broccoli.” the older ash blonde seems satisfied with his answer, grinning to himself as you dry the dishes with an amused smile.

but taiga isn’t finished, swapping her green crayon for a red one to finish up her drawing. “but you’re a boy...and mommy still married you!”

bakugou pauses, lost for words as taiga continues to colour— humming the theme song from a commercial for some of deku’s merch. you can tell it’s taking everything katsuki’s got not to combust right there on the spot, but he can’t stay mad at taiga for too long, not when she’s describing her wedding and how her daddy is going to walk her down the isle.

setting the dishes to dry and towelling your hands; you smile to yourself as you admire your family. some would say you had it all, and looking at the pair of bakugou’s now, who were you to deny the truth.

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