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icallhimjoey · 1 year

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Then Again

♥ ♥ rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: In this the third part of what's now become my Eddie story, following "Only Now" and "Over Now". Since your last visit, Eddie spiraled, and Eddie spiraled hard. An exciting event brings all of you, the whole gang, back into a room together and even though time has passed, and everyone seems to have moved on... have you?

CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, fem!reader, smut, angst

Author’s note: all of the girlies who left me lengthy messages and shared your ideas; this one's because of you and entirely for you. I really hope it answers all of your questions and lives up to all of your expectations!

Wordcount: 9.8K

(find all four parts of this story here)

Eddie stared at the invitation he pulled from a delicate beige envelope he'd just been handed by a roadie. The chaos from setting up the stage in a venue they'd just arrived at that day was always something Eddie liked to escape. He'd find a quiet place to wait all of it out, sometimes even stayed on the bus, until he'd be called to stage for soundcheck. When a roadie knocked and walked into his dressing room, Eddie was already up on his feet because he thought it was time, but then he was given an envelope with his name written on and was left alone again.

The influx of feelings nearly knocked him off his boots; joy, fear, guilt, relief, shame - it all hit him at once, hard. Square in his chest, where it hurt him the most and where he felt he probably deserved it the most, too.

“Fifteen months today?”

“Day after tomorrow, but, close enough, right? Fifteen months.” Eddie said it like he couldn’t quite believe it himself.

Sat across from his therapist, he smiled bashfully at the mention of his achievement in sobriety. His therapist seemed incredibly excited and very proud of him, and if he was honest, she really was the only person he appreciated celebrating with him. Everyone else around him acknowledged it all the time, but they’d tiptoe around the subject, always scared to say the wrong thing. Eddie’s substance abuse had left a mark on them, and he’d worked hard to make things right, but he knew that there were people who’d forever be afraid that Eddie would relapse and become the worst version of himself again.

"That's fantastic, Eddie! Wow. Congratulations!"

His therapist was full on big smiles and there was no fear behind her eyes, and Eddie really appreciated it.

He hated seeing that fear. It would remind him of all the things he had done wrong in his life. Of everything that lead him to where he was now, which was a good place, anyone would agree. But too often, something or someone would hold up a mirror and show Eddie this is what you did, what you were like, what you said to me and it hurt.

If Eddie was honest, which, through a lot of therapy, he learned he really owed to himself, he’d been slowly spiraling down ever since Corroded Coffin got signed and he got a free ticket out of Hawkins. But what really accelerated him into the deepest pits of hell was that one night where you asked Eddie to ruin it all.

And he did ruin it all. Because you had asked him to, and he had obliged.

You hadn’t known how to react when yet another headline graced a newspaper, or when Eddie’s drunk angry face was plastered on the cover of another magazine, or when your boss would make another comment on what appeared to be reckless rockstar behavior from Eddie that made the press.

“Did I do this?” you asked, turning a page with a trembling hand as your cheek and shoulder worked hard to keep the phone at your ear.

“Absolutely not. Eddie is one hundred per cent doing this himself,” Steve answered, looking at the same magazine spread of unflattering paparazzi pictures.

“But do I… do I call someone? I can’t watch– what if he does something really stupid, Steve? What if…” you didn’t want to finish your sentence and heard Steve sigh on the other end of the line.

“I’ve reached out so many times, trust me. To his band members, to his management– even to Wayne, but it’s all– they’re all very… there’s nothing anyone can do,”

“So we’re just going to watch him crash and burn?” the picture in front of you of Eddie throwing an empty whiskey bottle at the windscreen of a random car should’ve never been taken and should’ve never been printed, you thought. The people around him were either eager photographers, trying to catch Eddie’s downfall in real time, or bystanders laughing. Big ugly smiles on big ugly faces, not an ounce of empathy for Eddie Munson who very clearly wasn’t doing okay.

The fucking tabloids could die, for all you cared.

“We’re not.” Steve answered, and for a second you hoped he’d have a plan. Some way to reach Eddie without facing the risk of pulling the two of you into it with him.

“We’re not going to watch him.” Steve then said, and you slumped your shoulders and let your head fall as you took hold of the phone with your hand. Simply ignoring Eddie as he dug his own grave wasn’t really going to help your anxiety at all.

“He’ll come to his senses,” Steve said, not even really convincing himself, but trying his best anyway. “Eventually.”

“I just wish there was something we could do,” the guilt you’d felt pool at the pit of your stomach into this black puddle of tar felt too sticky for you to ignore.

“It’s probably not as bad as it looks, you know what these magazines are like,” Steve tried, and you knew he was probably at least a little bit right.

“Hey,” Steve said after you failed to say anything, but just stared at the images of Eddie in front of you. “Don’t let it ruin your day, all right?” Like it hadn’t already ruined every single one since Eddie started calling you at the most awful hours and leave lengthy voicemail messages in a sloppy voice. You were barely able to make out anything he said at all, but you could always sense the anger and if the message went on long enough, his absolute helplessness. The obvious vulnerability. His weakness. They were all the things you felt constrict within your own chest as you’d listen to the messages in the morning.

Eddie never called. Never used to call. Now, he did it all the time. But you never called back.

Well, you did once but were greeted by the very kind voice of someone at the front desk of the hotel Eddie had stayed at that night, and you knew it’d be no use to ask for Eddie. He’d either have checked in under another name to hide his identity, or he'd have left already. You almost thought he did it on purpose; Eddie only ever reached out to you when he knew you’d either be at work, or asleep, and never gave you a chance to catch him when you’d return the call.

And so, you’d just listen.

You’d listen, and then you’d save every single message to listen to again later, because that’s the kind of person you were. You’d listen to them whenever you needed a good cry, because it always worked. And sometimes, you listened to them for other reasons. Stupid reasons, like, when you wanted to make yourself feel awful about yourself. You know, normal girly things. That was until Steve visited, and you let him hear. He had instantly deleted all of them from your machine.

Steve was angry with Eddie on a whole ‘nother level which he thought he hid well from you. He didn’t. You knew. But you never talked about it together because it would just be painful, and none of it would help. You both missed Eddie – not this Eddie, but Eddie Eddie – and the fact that it was hard to escape him made it all the more difficult.

It had all come ahead when, almost a full year after Eddie had last properly seen you, Robin’s doorbell rang at a quarter past midnight, followed by loud sloppy banging against her door. Panicked and confused at who the hell would be so loud that late, Robin was so ready to get angry at a tipsy, giggly Steve, but when she unlocked her door, saw someone she hadn’t been expecting.

Eddie Munson.

He looked closer to death than he’d ever looked before, and if Robin was honest, smelled closer to it too. He seemed unable to fully open his eyes, and when he looked at Robin for a second, she saw he also couldn’t keep his eyes still. They twirled and crossed over, and if the swaying on his legs didn’t give away how drunk he was, his eyes certainly sold the deal.

“Eddie?” Robin checked behind him, but he was alone. “Aren’t you… didn’t you have a show in Chicago tonight?” Robin knew because one of her cousins who lived in the windy city had been so excited to see Corroded Coffin live. Had called her specifically to tell her, because she knew Robin used to go to high school with Eddie. A car ride from Chicago would’ve taken nearly five hours. How the fuck was Eddie here right now?

“Ishehere?” Eddie drawled, the words barely making it out of him.

Eddie pushed Robin out of the way roughly and walked into the hallway with feet that were somehow too heavy to lift and simultaneously unable to easily find the floor again. Eddie had to use both his hands on either side of him to find balance on whatever he could grab onto.

Mentally, Robin tried to piece the situation together in order to make sense of it. If Eddie was here, there was no chance the concert had happened that night. He was definitely under the influence, maybe of more than just alcohol, and Robin feared that he’d left Chicago without anyone knowing. Left the band, left the fans – left a full venue of people waiting for him to come up on stage and play some fan favorites and some newer songs. Just, left.

Oh man. Eddie was in trouble.

In his current state he obviously couldn’t have gone to see Wayne, Robin couldn’t even imagine how Wayne would react to the man she saw stumble into her home. He also couldn’t have gone to see Steve either – Eddie probably knew that there were a lot of judgmental words waiting for him, a full lecture of phrases and terms that he’d have to wade through before he’d even catch sight of a couch to sleep on.

“You walked right past me,” Robin said somewhat sarcastically to Eddie’s question as she closed her front door, accepting that Eddie was in her house now and was probably going to stay the night.

“Where are you hiding her?” Eddie raised his voice and loudly slammed the door to Robin’s hallway closet and suddenly, Robin was scared. Eddie was aggressive, and she was alone.

“I’m here!” Robin hissed, nervous, but loudly, making Eddie turn his head to give her a quick glance before turning and tripping over his own feet into her living room. Robin followed him and got to see him plummet face first onto her couch. She watched him squirm around a little bit, take his shoes off with little care, mumbling to himself as he threw them across the room. Robin wondered where all of his stuff was. Had he traveled here with nothing? Should she call someone? Let them know Eddie was with her, and not face down passed out in a ditch somewhere?

Amongst the incomprehensible rambles Eddie was slurring into one of Robin’s throw pillows, she made out some words he grumbled, “You always leave– … where are you now– … you fucking left– ... bitch won’t ever answer– … I didn’t do this, you– ... You–”

Suddenly Eddie looked up and locked eyes with Robin.

“You!”

“No,” Robin answered, surprisingly calm for her doing. She was still sort of jittery and definitely nervous, but also determined that whatever Eddie was struggling with, he wasn’t about to take any of it out on her.

“No, not me. I’m going to get you a blanket and a tall glass of water– a bucket. A bucket maybe, yes, because you seem like you’ve had a lot to drink, and I don’t want you ruining my rug. My mother got me that rug, she’d kill me if anything were to happen to it.” Robin rambled as her feet hurriedly carried her in small steps around her home, collecting the items she mentioned. “You see, sometimes people care about their things, their bodies, their lives, and they don’t feel the need to absolutely ruin everything all of the time,” she continued, and it was all too fast paced, too much, too sober for Eddie to follow or to respond to. “They don’t get drunk and travel for hours just to ring someone’s doorbell after midnight, scaring the living daylight out of them because, what if something happened to someone? Why else would someone come a-knocking? They don’t do that Eddie. They don’t.”

It seemed like Eddie had passed out.

“Please don’t die on my couch,” Robin finished, placing down a glass of water on her coffee table. “We can talk in the morning.”

Robin made sure to lock her front door and hide the keys, so Eddie had no chance of sneaking out and endangering himself more than he already had done before disappearing into her bedroom. The click of her bedroom door followed by the sudden absence of noise made Eddie lift his head up slightly, and he noticed only then that Robin had left him alone.

“Hey!” she heard Eddie call for her, the anger in his voice unmistakable.

“Robin!” she kept quiet, squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. No. She’d talk to him in the morning.

In a bid to get her attention, Eddie flung an arm out, knocking over the glass of water, and whether he intended it or not, it smashed onto the floor, breaking into vicious shards that imprisoned Eddie to the couch.

Robin heard.

Paused.

No.

She’d talk to him in the morning.

The next morning Eddie woke up to Robin talking to someone on the phone. She was trying to be quiet, but Robin was on edge and anxiety had taken over her system. She hissed down the phone and Eddie caught every word.

"Emergency. Code red. You have to come help me right now." "Guess who showed up at my doorstep in the middle of the night?" "He’s on my couch, covered in vomit." "Of course he's still alive." "No, please, you have to come, I don’t know what to do," "It smells so bad, please, Steve, I can’t do this on my own, he’s your friend," "What do I do in the meantime?" "Okay. Please, hurry."

Eddie groaned. Everything hurt. It felt like the full front of his body was bruised. Head pounding. Taste of death in his mouth. Smell of butyric acid so thick in the air, it almost made Eddie retch again. He moved to sit up, but Robin was eyeing him like a hawk, sat up in a squat on an armchair and was quick to stop him.

“Stop! Don’t move.”

Eddie didn’t need telling twice and let himself fall back, relaxing into the couch again.

“There’s glass and throw up everywhere. You’re not moving an inch ‘til Steve gets here.”

Robin stayed put, kept her eyes on him and monitored every single chest raise and face grimace of the man splayed out on her couch. A man she only really knew because she'd grown close with Steve when they became coworkers, but had never really hung out with by herself. Mumbling under her breath, angry that Eddie had gotten vomit so close to her rug, Robin kept her distance because, God, smelling vomit first thing in the morning really was a sure fire way to get sick yourself if you weren't careful.

It took Steve and Robin 40 minutes to get Eddie situated at the dining table in some of Steve's clothes, freshly showered, with a glass of water and a bowl of cereal in front of him. Robin was doing her best to carefully pick up glass from her living room floor next to the couch. Steve was sat next to Eddie, both arms stretched, hands holding his knees, one leg bouncing and brows furrowed down deep. Steve was waiting for Eddie to talk. To explain. To apologize.

Eddie sighed, clearly still nauseous, and pushed the bowl of cereal away.

Steve didn't hesitate to push it right back to where it was.

"I'm not hungry, man,"

"I don't care,"

Eddie sighed again, now reaching for the spoon and moving it around a bit.

The only noise that filled the room was from pieces of glass Robin collected on the coffee table. The tension could be cut with a butter knife until Steve groaned loudly in frustration and got up from his seat.

"What are you doing, Eddie? What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Steve yelled, and it made Eddie wince. His head was throbbing still, and loud noises hurt. Steve quickly sat down again and scooted closer to Eddie, really got in his face, made sure that whatever he was going to say next, he could see Eddie's reaction.

"Fuck you, man."

Eddie kept his gaze at the bowl of cereal in front of him, but Steve saw his jaw clench.

"Seriously?! Mindful? This is mindful to you? I don't– You can't– ... You've got to stop calling her. I'm being serious, stop with the intoxicated phone calls."

Robin stopped what she was doing and looked at them from her crouched position next to her couch. This wasn't a conversation she could pretend to not listen to whilst she was doing a dangerous task.

"Telling her that she's the one that ran away – Eddie, you left. You left and then you started coming and going as you pleased, in and out of Hawkins, in and out of our lives – her life."

Eddie let out a breath he'd been holding in, rolled his eyes and turned his head away from Steve.

Wrong move, Robin thought.

"You left. You bailed. You ran, you mother fucker," Steve got up abruptly, nearly making his chair fall backwards and for good measure, Steve kicked it in frustration making Eddie flinch.

"Steve," Robin tried in a bid to calm him down.

Steve took a few steps, hands up in his hair, breathing heavily as he looked at Eddie's tensed back.

"And now you're, what? Drinking yourself into the grave? Who is that meant to hurt? Just her? Because it's not." Steve lied. "You're only hurting yourself." Another lie, encased in truth, followed by silence. Robin was scared to breathe as she watched Eddie who honestly looked like he was still drunk, not far removed from throwing up again.

"Why could you not..." Steve sighed, "Why couldn't you just be with her?"

"I was!" Eddie suddenly exclaimed and turned to look Steve in the eye. "I was with her! When I was here, I was with her."

"Cut the bullshit, asshole," Steve looked at him through narrowed eyes. "We all know that's not what I meant."

Eddie turned to look at Robin, who was quick to hold up both her hands, showing her palms as if to say, don't ask me. Then he turned back to look at Steve again, and he felt the built up anger dissipate when all he could see in his friend's face was worry and pain. Clenching his jaw, Eddie's eyes found the bowl of cereal in front of him again and he kept them there as he heard Steve sit down next to him again.

"I'm not going to pretend that whatever you're doing to yourself isn't complete self-destruction because you know, Eddie. You know what you did and you know what you had and now you know what you lost now that she finally, fucking finally, ended it."

If Steve wasn't mistaken, he thought he saw the first little rips in Eddie's hard demeanor. A couple little cracks, and Steve hoped they'd grow deeper so he could get in there properly. Worm his way in, and then drag his friend out of there.

"She moved on, and you can't handle that, and now look at what you're doing to yourself..."

"Eddie," Robin suddenly spoke from the other side of the room, making him look up a second. Her voice sounded soft and kind, and the look in her eyes reflected her words.

"You scared me last night..."

Eddie didn't need to hear more. This was enough for tears to spring into his eyes. He turned away to at least somewhat hide it, but the loud sniff that followed gave away that he was crying. Steve placed a strong, but caring hand on his shoulder, and Eddie immediately grabbed it. Held onto it. White-knuckled it until it hurt him.

"Enough with the shit excuses, all right? When's the last time you've seen Wayne?"

Eddie hugged Steve, and Eddie hugged Robin. Uttered the words "I'm sorry," about a million times through tears he felt guilty for crying. Robin was quick to tell him he didn't need to apologize to her, but Steve didn't react to the words at all, felt like he should at least say them two million more times and really mean all of them for Steve to accept them.

Eddie let Steve drive him over to Wayne's.

Wayne took Eddie straight to rehab.

When you got off the phone with Steve, you were crying. It was a weird mix of relief, happy tears, honest joyous thoughts because Eddie would be taken care of now, but you also felt so much pain for him. Rehab? That meant it was really serious. That it was really real. But he was getting help now, which was definitely good news, but you just wished it had never ever gotten to this point.

Starting you shift down at the bar, you couldn't really stop thinking about it. Your boss made a small comment, asked what was on your mind, because you seemed a little out of it, so you'd vaguely told him you'd gotten some news. Ultimately okay news, good news, but, food for thought anyway. Your boss' reaction had been that you were lucky it was Wednesday and it probably wouldn't get really busy.

And your boss had been right.

The bar only really saw regulars that day, all sat at barstools with elbows perched up onto the shiny varnished wood while the rest of the place remained empty. These guys made your job easy. You knew what all of them were drinking – beer, and beer, and then later, likely more beer – and you would have the next drink ready for them before they could even ask. They would all tip extra too if you smiled and engaged in kind conversation with them. Which you did.

Then, a stranger walked in, and he instantly caught everyone's attention. If the light, acid washed, tight jeans and the white, impeccable, tightly laced-up tennis shoes were anything to go by, this guy was lost with a capital L. Maybe, probably, there just to use the restrooms.

"That kid lost?" one of the older guys sat at the bar must have read your mind, making the two men next to him snigger softly.

You made eye contact as he sat down at the far end of the bar and smiled. "Can I get you anything?"

He honestly looked a bit like Steve, if you were honest. Polo shirt and all. Disney looking dude. Hair all sun-kissed, high lighted by the summer. The least intimidating man in there by far. And pretty. Shit, this guy was really pretty. You saw him look around and check what everyone else was drinking.

"Jack and coke?" he asked, almost like he wanted your permission for getting anything other than just a beer. "Sure, coming right up," you grinned and got started on it. You saw your boss making eyes at one of the regulars, and they were clearly making fun a little. But when you checked to see if your new customer could tell that he was being taunted for sticking out like a sore thumb, you saw him mouth along to the song being played. You turned back to look at your boss, eyebrows raised high as if to say, oh, maybe he's not so lost?

You finished mixing his drink and were about to place it down in front of him when he held out his hand to take it from you. Handing it over, his fingers brushed yours, and then you held eye contact for much longer than would be considered normal.

"Thank you," he smiled sweetly, and you couldn't help but blush. His eyes were really captivating. Big brown orbs, surrounded by beautiful long lashes. Killer smile, too.

"You're welcome," what had you all shy all of a sudden? Was it the freckles?

He reached his other hand over the bar and held it out to you.

"I'm Matt,"

You stared at it for a second, heard your boss very clearly suppress a laugh behind you, and then decided to shake it.

"Nice to meet you, Matt."

Matt then looked over your shoulder at everyone behind you and raised his glass in cheers to all the other men. You turned around and were surprised to see all of them raising their glasses in return just before you caught your boss trying to hide his smirk from you.

Interesting, you thought. This could definitely get interesting.

“So, you mentioned next weekend is big… what’s happening?” Eddie’s therapist scooted forwards in her chair and clicked the pen in her hand as it hovered over a notebook she’d scribble in from time to time.

“A wedding.” Eddie answered in a held breath, chest puffed out, holding it there for a second. “Old friends from Hawkins invited me to their wedding on Saturday, at Laurel Hall in Indianapolis, which is this beautiful mansion, used to be a school way back when…” Eddie had gotten into the habit of just saying whatever he thought, saving his therapist the trouble of asking for details. “They’ve been together since high school. High school sweethearts, what a dream, right? I guess everyone’s going to be there, old classmates, friends – I’ve been given a plus one too, which they didn’t need to do, but is still kind of them,”

“Who are getting married?”

“Nancy and Jonathan,” Eddie answered, rubbing sweaty palms over his jeans. They were names of people he didn’t think he had ever mentioned before, so he felt the need to clarify. “Jonathan is Will’s older brother, and Nancy is Mike’s older sister, and Mike and I used to be–” Eddie started, but his therapist stopped him as he clicked her fingers in recognition. “Hellfire Club.” She stated, and Eddie smiled. “Yea,” he let a short silence fall in which he collected thoughts.

“Nancy and Steve also dated for a couple of months when they were 15… maybe 16, and Will and Mike are best friends too, so, there’s a lot of… we’re intertwined in a lot of different ways,” Eddie waved his hands over each other a few times to illustrated the intertwining of all of them.

"I guess that's what happens in small towns, huh?"

"You're nervous. Why are you nervous?" she saw right through him.

"Well... it's a wedding. People will be drinking." Eddie sighed deeply, then frowned as he stared into nothing for a second.

"Will your ex-girlfriend be there too, if you don't mind me asking?"

Ex-girlfriend.

Eddie's eyes shot up to look his therapist in the eye.

Ex-girlfriend.

They made Eddie talk a lot in rehab. Group therapy sessions. Individual therapy sessions. And Eddie had never really talked about anything that really bothered him before, so it was real difficult at first. He felt he wasn't meant to feel bad about anything, because was he not living the dream? Was this life not everything he had been wishing for? Everything he'd ever dreamed of ever since getting his very own first guitar?

Eddie was meant to explode with joy. Be the happiest man alive. Instead, however, Eddie felt like he was drowning constantly, and felt overwhelming guilt for it too.

Eddie had to explain all of it. Make everyone understand as he made sense of it himself. When he had to explain to people who hadn't been around your friendship, hadn't known what the two of you were like, what you'd always been like together, he tried to find the right words to make everyone understand. And then, there only seemed to be one right word for it.

Ex-girlfriend.

You totally were his ex-girlfriend.

It was an awful moment of realization that kept him up at night for weeks because, you were his ex-girlfriend now. Ex. You had totally dated each other. For years. You'd been his girlfriend and he'd been your boyfriend. An awful one, too, but a boyfriend none the less. It had been the real deal. Eddie had been so in love and recognized that you'd been too. Maybe even more so. How had he never known? Never seen it? Never been able to face it? How did he, only now that it was over, learn that that was what it was? Eddie never even knew it was something he could lose, because it never earned its label. It never got named, and so it never gained any strength. Now that it was gone, over, past the point of repair, Eddie suddenly gave it strength, gave it meaning, gave it power by naming it what it really had been and it was heart shattering.

"I think so," Eddie said to his therapist, nodding slowly. "Yea, she must be."

And Eddie was right. The first person he laid eyes on when he walked into Laurel Hall on Saturday May 4th at 3 o'clock in the afternoon, was you. You were up near the front, already seated for the ceremony, and Eddie decided to hang back because that felt a little safer. He sat next to what he assumed were some distant relatives, and gave himself the time to see which way the wind was blowing.

The ceremony was beautiful. Jonathan and Nancy looked stunning, and Eddie really tried to follow along, to listen to the vows, to smile when he was supposed to, and to clap when he was supposed to. But with everyone, Robin, Steve, Dustin, Mike, people's parents – oh my God old friends and their judgmental parents, Eddie had completely forgotten about the parents – but mostly, with you in the room, paying attention seemed an impossible task.

Halfway through the ceremony Eddie doubted if he should've even come at all, and he thought of slipping out unseen. His palms were so sweaty, they were leaving wet patches in his trousers, and his legs wouldn't stop bouncing. But when he looked around to see if no one would actually notice, he locked eyes with Dustin who gave the most excited smile Eddie thought he'd ever seen on him, and so he stayed.

At the reception, Eddie was welcomed by someone holding a huge tray of champagne flutes at the bottom of the stairs and he figured he'd do the polite thing and take one. He'd secretly discard it somewhere on a mantel later, he thought. When he saw you in the crowd, talking to some other people he knew, he decided to grab two flutes. You were empty handed, he had two drinks – one plus one equalled two. It could've been the perfect way to step into your group. The perfect opening to talk to you. The perfect way to– ...oh no.

Someone else handed you a drink.

And you leant in.

And you kissed them?

Let them place a hand on your lower back?

You smiled?

Seemed very happy?

"Eddie!"

Dustin frantically waved him over, and Eddie was visibly relieved for the out he was given. Swerving off the path that lead directly to you, he walked over to where Dustin was stood with Will, Lucas and Max. Eddie said his hellos, and they all politely smiled at him, gave him the exact looks with the exact eyes that he'd feared he'd get from everyone that day. Somewhat fearful, definitely awkward, a little scared to say the wrong thing, and far too focussed on the huge elephant in the room that took up almost every square inch from wall to wall, from floor to ceiling. It only left the smallest bit of wiggle room to squeeze in some polite small talk.

Except, Dustin wasn't about that small talk life. At all.

"Yep, I'll take these, thank you very much," Dustin said, reaching for both of the glasses Eddie was holding and downed them immediately. Eddie gave him a look, and Dustin stared right back. "Surprise, I'm not 14 anymore, I'm overage now, shithead," he deadpanned, and Eddie was stunned into laughter. "Are you?" Will squinted at Dustin after some quick mental math, but Dustin just shrugged and said, "Close enough, anyway."

They managed to converse on a somewhat normal level in their little group. Eddie was a little fidgety, but Dustin was just being his regular old self, always teetering between innocent excitement and nonjudgmental acceptance, which was exactly what Eddie needed. Good old helpful little nerdy Dustin. What a dude, what a savior. The group grew slightly awkward again when Mike joined them, brother of the bride, but it only took seconds for Eddie to lock his elbow around Mike's neck. Mike said something so stupid about how Will and Mike were brothers now, it made everyone groan, so obviously, it was headlock-time.

Their laughter was loud, young boys having fun, but it felt misplaced because they were all in fancy suits in a very fancy solarium, and were definitely drawing attention to themselves for it. Dustin tried stepping in to save his friend, but Eddie had two arms, had he not? Lucas tried to warn him, but it was to no avail and Eddie had them both now. "No wedgies, no wedgies!" Dustin called out before wedgies had even crossed Eddie's mind. People who didn't know them were frowning, no doubt wanting to tell them off, boys you're at a wedding reception, behave yourselves!

You observed them calmly over the rim of your glass as you happily sipped the champagne that your boyfriend had handed you earlier, and you hid a smile. "They're such babies," you heard Robin mutter next to you, followed by "Oh my God, that's him! That's Eddie Munson!" from your very excited boyfriend, Matt. "Come on, I'll introduce you," Steve quipped and nodded for Matt to follow him. "Don't ask him to sign anything, or tonight is going to be so weird," you heard Steve say as they walked off together.

Yeah.

Tonight was definitely going to be weird.

You knew Eddie hadn't seen you look. You'd clocked him immediately. Had seen him sit down in the back during the ceremony. Tried to keep your attention with Nancy and Jonathan, smiled at Matt when he squeezed your thigh at the vows, hugged his arm as he teared up when Jonathan spoke. But Eddie was in the back, and you could almost feel his eye bore into you, so your legs had bounced wildly the entire time and your mind hadn't wavered from him for a single second.

Watching Matt be his giddy, excited, puppy-dog self as Steve introduced him was almost too much to witness. Matt was a huge Corroded Coffin fan, even if he didn't look it, and you'd told him about how you used to be real close friends with Eddie. You had never let on what that friendship entailed. What that friendship had looked like to others. What that friendship had meant to you. Matt just thought it was really cool and couldn't wait to one day maybe meet him.

Which was right now, and you realized you were entirely unprepared.

Robin understood what a bizarre position you'd been placed in, and stood beside you as you both looked at the three of them from afar. You thought it was nice that you were out of earshot, you didn't need to hear Steve ask Eddie to ask Matt what his favourite band was. It was also nice to see that Steve and Eddie were on good terms. They smiled at each other, and had hugged in greeting. You knew they'd seen each other a few times after Eddie had gotten out of rehab. Steve had also actually replied to the letter they had made Eddie write in there, which you hadn't done. You had read the one he wrote you, memorized huge chunks of it even, but had never picked up a pen to write a reply. It had kind of kept the door between the two of you dead-bolted shut, and Eddie hadn't dared knocking it for fear you'd find another lock to turn the key on.

"This is weird," Robin muttered, only loud enough for you to hear.

"So weird," you agreed. You saw how Eddie kept biting his lips and knew that he was nervous. Eddie Munson, nervous to talk to your Disney boyfriend. What a wild thing to be staring at.

"Matt and Steve are practically wearing the same outfit," Robin followed up, and you realized that she was talking about something entirely different from you. But, shit, she was right. It wasn't the exact same outfit, but if you squinted hard enough, you could easily confuse one for the other.

When you saw Matt turn to look at you, point his finger for Eddie to follow its line, you waved. And then you smiled. You were a grown up. An adult, God damn it. You could wave at someone and be normal, surely.

Before Eddie could wave back, you saw how they were being asked to step into the formal dining room as dinner was about to be served. People started moving, all ready to find their seats at the other end of the mansion, but Eddie didn't follow them. Instead, he slowly make his way over to you, and then, suddenly, it was just you and Eddie in the solarium still.

"Hey," with both hands in his pockets, Eddie twisted on his foot and used the other to tap your shin as a greeting. It was awkward, but cute.

"Hey," you returned the same gesture, but you were in heels, and you almost lost your balance. Eddie's hands reflexively reached out, but were quickly pulled back as you steadied yourself on your own. You blushed at your own clumsiness and Eddie scratched the back of his neck, entirely unsure of how to approach this chat with you.

Then you both chuckled. You chuckled at yourselves, at each other, at this outrageous situation you found yourselves in - all of it too stupid not to laugh at.

"You met Matt," you said, gesturing vaguely at the spot where they'd been stood seconds earlier.

"I did. Nice um... yeah, he's a nice guy," you could hear hesitation in his voice, and you squinted at him through a small smile. Eddie exuded the same vibes you'd felt in the bar when Matt had first walked in.

"Matty," Eddie said, and you could tell he was making fun a little. You let him, knowing how Matt could come off. Especially since he was an actual real life fan of Eddie. First impressions didn't really mean anything when it came to Matt. You knew.

"Eddie," you replied, returning his own facial expression and tone to him, and it made the both of you laugh softly.

"You look really good," Eddie suddenly complimented, looking you up and down, eyes gliding over your plum dress, and your chest ached with the way he said it.

"So do you," it was the polite thing to say, but you also absolutely meant it. Eddie looked fucking great.

A small silence lingered, and you were about to say that you should probably also make your way over to find your seat, but Eddie stopped you.

"Can we," Eddie stepped closer and let fingers wrap around your arm. "Can we meet, later? Another time, I mean. Another place. Like, next week, maybe?"

You looked at Eddie's hand as he touched you, felt sparks, before you looked up at him again, and you were met with big emotional eyes that couldn't look more apologetic if they tried.

You smiled warmly. "I'll think about it."

You knew it wasn't the answer Eddie wanted to hear, but he accepted it, nodded, let you go, and watched as you stepped away and went to find your seat next to Matt for dinner. You kind of liked the position of power you suddenly found yourself in with Eddie, and thought to yourself that you wanted to hold onto that for a little while longer. Could be, dared you think it, fun.

Dinner took its sweet time, and you grew a little bored. Speeches were followed by more speeches, were followed by more speeches, were followed by more speeches. When you saw Jim Hopper wipe thick tears from his cheeks, you turned to Steve to point it out. Steve looked, but then turned back to you and pointed at your boyfriend. Matt was crying too, and there was no possible way for him to even understand any of the references in any of the speeches. "Weddings just get me," he'd said earlier when he cried at the ceremony too, and you thought it was cute then. Now, it was becoming a bit much. You rolled your eyes at Steve, who silently laughed before you decided to down your glass of wine and immediately asked for another from a passing waiter.

After dinner, the party moved back to the rest of the ground floor. There was the grand lobby by the staircase, where people could sit on big old chesterfield couches and in old leather armchairs. Then there was the solarium that had its marble tiles turned into a dance floor. Lastly, there was the terrace, lit with beautiful patio lights strung across, where people could sit and chat at larger and smaller tables.

Jonathan and Nancy had their first dance, and it was very romantic. Made you swoon a little, looking at the eyes they made at each other. Perfect fucking couple. Behind them, you'd seen Eddie slip outside. For a smoke, you were sure. You weren't going to follow him. You were a grown up. An adult. You were no longer hung up on Eddie, and you made your own choices. Your next choice, you decided, was to drag your boyfriend onto the dance floor with you, even though, and he'd been very adamant about this, Matt didn't dance.

"Steve, my man," Matt slapped a hard hand onto Steve's shoulder.

"Do me a solid," he gestured to you as you were tipsily trying your best to reel Matt in with your imaginary fishing rod. "I don't dance."

Steve furrowed his brow, pretended to unhook Matt from your wire, and placed the imaginary hook onto his own collar. Ten seconds later, you were both stood on the dance floor, in dancing position, holding onto each other, just like everyone else was.

You mused together about how you were grown ups now. Real adults. With adult lives, and adult responsibilities. People your age were getting married now, having kids, had steady jobs, careers even and had fucking mortgages. It was such a trip if you thought about it for too long, and were glad to learn that Steve wholeheartedly agreed.

"We're grown ups who make sensible choices now," you almost said it like it was dirty.

"We're grown ups who know when to stop drinking," Steve said, giving you a look. You had definitely nearly tripped over your own feet a few times already.

"Ouch, don't let Eddie hear," you joked and, sure, maybe it was too soon for jokes like that, but you'd said it now anyway and it made Steve turn to check if Eddie hadn't accidentally heard you.

"We're grown ups who use our indoor voices," Steve pointedly said, visibly relieved Eddie hadn't been near you to have heard that.

"We're grown ups who decide for themselves how loud they want to speak," you were practically screaming over the music, and it had the two of you giggling into each other as you danced.

Dancing with Steve was fun. He sort of knew what he was doing and would hold you tightly when he did a spin. You'd seen Joyce smile and point you out to someone and knew it was solely because of the way Steve was moving you across the floor.

That was, until you were interrupted.

"Mind if I cut in?" Eddie suddenly appeared beside you, clasping a hand onto Steve's shoulder.

"Of course, but be careful with him, Steve's got two left feet," you joked, and pretended to step back to let Eddie dance with Steve.

"Idiot," Steve laughed and pulled you into a hug, whispered "grown ups!", in your ear and then smiled at Eddie as he passed your hand into his.

"Oh my God," you feigned nervousness as you let Eddie pull you close, one hand on the small of you back, the other holding your hand, just like every single other couple on the dance floor.

"I'm dancing with Eddie Munson," you said sarcastically, copying Matt's tone from earlier, squealing like an excited fan, smiling hard enough to make your eyes squint.

He furrowed his brows to appear offended, hurt even, but it was futile. The smile on Eddie's face was there to stay.

"You've clearly had a few, I see," Eddie noted, and if Eddie was trying to make you feel guilty over it, it wasn't working. You were totally allowed to drink, and weren't going to let Eddie - Eddie, who was responsible for the most difficult years of your life - guilt-trip you for it.

So, you just smiled. And nodded. Because yes, you had had a few. Eddie returned your smile and for a couple of seconds, you just danced and smiled at each other.

"You really do look nice," you said, noticing the blush in Eddie's cheeks that kind of matched your dress, funnily enough.

"Oh my God, stop flirting, people will assume things," Eddie joked in a hushed tone of voice, eyes darting across the room in a fake panic as you looked up at him.

"The people here? I think we both have years of convincing them they shouldn't be assuming shit under our belts, do we not?"

You were definitely flirting, and it felt terrific to feel like you had the upper hand over Eddie this time around. It was such a welcome shift you hadn't anticipated wanting to delve into so badly, but with plenty of others on the dance floor and no possible threat of Matt stepping in, you kind of just went with it. It was fun.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but," Eddie spun you before pulling you back into his chest. Not as smoothly as Steve would've done it, but still nice. "I don't think we ever really managed to properly convince anyone," Eddie grimaced, as if it was the worst news he could've ever broken to you.

You smiled at your feet before whipping you head back up to look at him. With Eddie smiling down at you like that, it seemed like Eddie appreciated you trying to keep the ball in your court. Tonight, Eddie could just look at you as you played with it. He could eagerly wish for you to toss it over the net, which you weren't planning on doing willingly, though you never ruled out the option of the ball slipping from your hands momentarily. Eddie might not have been drinking, but you definitely were. Maybe the ball would accidentally bounce over to him every once in a while, and those moments could be tests - you wanted to see if Eddie would throw the ball back to you on his own accord. And he better. He still had shit to make up to you.

"I got your letter," you blurted out, immediately regretting bringing it up, but Eddie's smile didn't falter.

"Lot of big confessions," you almost sounded challenging in your tone, a playful smile tugging at your cheeks.

"Yeah," Eddie scrunched his face as he elongated the word and nodded, not embarrassed to have written them down, but embarrassed you were talking to him about his feelings now.

"You never wrote me back, though,"

"I didn't,"

Eddie looked at you questioningly, and you were quick to frown at him.

"Um, how does one reply to, 'I was always head over heels, over the moon, out of this universe, so God damn in love with you, and I didn't even fucking know it'... any suggestions?"

"Um, I don't know, thank you, maybe,"

You laughed heartily at him, and Eddie bent into you as he laughed too. When the laughing ceased, and you returned to crow-feeted smiles for one another, Eddie realised that you'd memorized that part of his letter, and you realised that you'd just given that away.

"I do love you too, you know, if that's what you wanted to hear,"

Eddie gasped a small breath.

"You do?"

You nodded and grimaced, almost as if to say, I don't know why either, joining him in his bit.

"I had no idea," Of course Eddie fucking knew.

"What a shocker, hey?"

"I can not believe it. I don't think our friendship can take blows like this."

The music switched from a slight mellow one into a real slow, romantic one. There was no getting out of having to sway slowly to the gentle tunes, and to be honest, you didn't mind at all.

You sighed deeply, then thought of Matt.

"It's too late, is all," you said, ignoring the fact that, actually, even if you had been single, you still probably wouldn't have just accepted Eddie back into your life as easily. Even just as a friend, it was going to be difficult going for him.

"I know,"

You saw Eddie glance over your shoulder, no doubt to look at Matt. When he kept his eyes trained in the same direction for too long, you turned to look and saw Steve look at the two of you. His expression read a little confused, but didn't really say much else. Not to you anyway - you didn't know what had been going on behind your back before you turned around.

"Then again... is it?" Eddie whispered in your ear and then looked at you as he stepped back, let go of you entirely and took three steps backwards before turning on his heel and leaving the dance floor, and then, the solarium entirely. Eddie left you standing there alone, and you turned to look at Steve.

Steve, who, with big eyes, immediately mouthed 'no!' at you.

But you just shrugged, looked at Steve like you kind of had no other choice as your feet started following Eddie's footsteps.

Steve waved his arms to beckon you as discreetly as he could, inaudibly telling you to 'stop', and to 'come here', followed by 'we're grown ups!' but then Matt suddenly popped up next to him, and Steve proved once again that he was the best fucking friend you couldn't even have ever dreamed of asking for. Steve grabbed Matt by the shoulders, gave him a big smile, and engaged into conversation immediately as he turned him around, facing away from you, leaving you every opportunity to slip out and find Eddie.

You found Eddie at the bottom of the stairs in the grand lobby, which, thank fuck, was empty.

He held out his hand for you to grab, and when you did, wanted to leave through the main entrance, but you had a different idea.

"Upstairs,"

"Upstairs?"

"Upstairs."

You held onto Eddie's hand as you lead the way upstairs. Looking down the hallway from the landing, you saw a door that read 'Presidential Suite', and seconds later, you were stood in what was very obviously the bridal suite Jonathan and Nancy were going to be staying in that night. You were both staring at the four poster bed that was covered in rose petals.

"Maybe this isn't..." Eddie turned his head to look at you, and found you were already looking up at him.

"It definitely isn't..." you absolutely knew what he meant, but turned your body into him and snuck an arm into his jacket to curl around his waist.

Shit. You wanted Eddie. Sure, you'd been drinking, but not enough to be taken advantage of. You wanted Eddie, and you wanted him now.

"We might regret this," Eddie spoke softly, just above a whisper, but his nose was already nudging around yours. You couldn't manage a proper reply, but just let out a whimper that sounded enough like you agreed with him before you closed any distance left between the two of you and kissed him.

You kissed Eddie. Took hold of his face, pushed a hand into his hair, and you kissed him. Eddie wrapped both arms around your waist and pulled you in tightly, but didn't move otherwise, and let you kiss him for however long you wanted.

Eddie could cry with how much he needed this, needed you, but didn't make any further moves. You'd been right earlier; the ball was in your court.

You hummed, moaned and panted into Eddie's mouth, let your tongue roam and teeth nibble and you loved every single second of it. You could kiss Eddie like this for hours, and you easily would have, but then, you felt his erection press up against you and suddenly, just kissing wasn't enough. With your mouth still on him, you moved a hand down to press a palm over him, and you felt him flinch. It broke your kiss, and you looked down at it.

Eddie did too.

You palmed him for a few seconds, unable to look away from it, heard how Eddie held his breath and then, you let out a shuddered breath of your own.

"Get on the bed."

Eddie didn't need telling twice. He crawled onto the bed, let himself flop against the pillows sat somewhat upright, and started undoing his pressed trousers as you got busy hiking up your dress at the foot of the bed. After sliding down your underwear and stepping out of them carefully, you climbed onto the bed and Eddie reached out with both arms to help you get on top of him.

Straddling Eddie, and with all lights in the room turned on, you got to look at Eddie's face crumble as you started moving, slowly writhing, sliding up and down. Eddie's hands were clasped onto your sides and both your hands made sure they stayed there. You cocked your head, like a puppy hearing a new sound it tried to figure out, and studied Eddie's face as his eyes rolled to the back of his head before he let his full head fall backwards against the curtained wall behind the pillows. Fascinating. A huge turn on. You couldn't help but dip down and kiss him, and Eddie immediately returned it, full forced, moaning and groaning as he did.

Eddie looked up at you when you broke away from him, and you felt his hands move, firm fingers now digging into your hips as you picked up your pace, and you swore you could see it in his eyes.

You won.

You deserved to win, and you’d won.

You were the focal point of Eddie’s whole world. Past, present, and future. The first and only choice. He’d follow you anywhere, he’d just proven it, just to be near you, to be with you.

You’d won, and you could feel it, looking into Eddie's eyes with your foreheads locked together. Your eyes fluttered shut as you bit your lip before you moaned, and it drove Eddie wild.

You were having devastatingly romantic sex in a bridal suite not meant for you, with a man not meant for you. But you were strong. Made your own decisions. Decided how close you were going to let Eddie get. Chose to fuck him all on your own accord. You'd deal with repercussions later, if there'd even be any, because maybe, you wouldn't allow there to be any. That's how powerful you felt, and you deserved it, Eddie thought so too.

You rode Eddie until your legs cramped, then let Eddie hold you steady as he rammed into you until you saw stars. You toyed with the idea of not letting Eddie get there, but then decided you wanted to feel every single muscle of him shudder underneath you, and so you kept it up until Eddie saw stars too.

A panting puddle of limbs on silk - now wet - sheets, you took a moment to catch your breaths. Let Eddie hold you close. Whisper sweet nothings into your hair. Words that could make you cry if they weren't laced in guilt and shame. You let Eddie do whatever he felt he needed to do, because you didn't mind him fighting for it. You let him, until the pauses between his words drew longer. You let him, until the blinks of his eyes grew slower. You let him, until he'd completely drifted off into blissful dreams of soft kisses, tender touches and sweet smiles.

"Eddie, what the fuck?!"

"What are you doing up here?"

"Get out of here!"

Eddie was rudely awoken by the shrill voice of Nancy, and the very confused voice of Jonathan just a couple hours after he'd fallen asleep in their bed. They'd walked in on him with his dick in his boxers, thank God, but his trousers halfway down his legs still.

"What the..." is all Eddie managed to say in a groggy voice as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

"Eddie! Get out!" Nancy wasn't going to give him time to adjust and hit him with her bouquet of flowers that she was meant to keep safe, making Eddie roll away from her.

"What's this?" he heard Jonathan on the other side of the bed and saw him pick up a note from a pillow.

Eddie was quick to snatch it from him as he rolled off the bed and was chased into the hallway by Nancy, trying to pull his trousers up as he did.

She slammed the door loudly, making Eddie wince at the echoing sound. He did up his zipper and closed the button before turning his attention to the now crumpled up note in his hand. Eddie rubbed his face and blinked his eyes into focus more, turned the note so the words were no longer upside down. As he read the words you'd left him with, a grin slowly took over his face.

'Sure. Next week. Coffee. x'

It could mean nothing, Eddie knew. It could absolutely totally have zero meaning. But, then again, if Eddie dared let his mind wonder, it held every potential to mean everything.

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Read the final installment: Never Over

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 1 year

Text

If I Love You Too (Part 1)

Summary: It’s been six months since the accident. Six months and Jensen can’t stand feeling helpless anymore. He knows he needs to start figuring out how to work again while being a single parent and juggling his concerned family. He absolutely doesn’t want it but he needs help in the form of a live-in nanny to help with the day to day. As much as he didn’t want that nanny or her help, she’s going to make him feel things he never dared to again and in the process, discover that some people in life get more than one soulmate...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jenssen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 9,500ish

Warnings: language, angst, death of a spouse, lying, mentions of injury/death of a spouse/death of a parent, internal turmoil

A/N: Please enjoy the first part of this Jensen POV series! I am SO excited to be sharing this story with you from Jensen’s side!

______

“Hey buddy,” I heard as the door from the bedroom to the private balcony opened. I didn’t move from my seat, stayed still and quiet as the door shut behind me. A hand ruffled my hair and I turned away from the touch. “Want to come downstairs and watch Christmas Vacation with everyone? Kids are down for the count.”

“No thanks,” I said quietly, waiting for my brother to leave me alone again. The hand didn’t leave my hair and I closed my eyes. “I’m a little beat after a long couple days. You guys go ahead without me.”

“Thanks for the new toolset. I really like it,” he said.

“You’re welcome.” I opened my eyes slowly, staring at the wood decking, Josh still playing with my hair.

“Next year won’t be as hard. I promise.”

“Well it was a little hard to try and accommodate my children asking for their dead mother for Christmas,” I said. I held my breathing steady, pulling on all of those little acting strings tucked away in the back of my head to stop myself from saying more. “Maybe we can take all the kids ice skating tomorrow.”

“Sure. Mom and dad would like that,” I said. “Maybe get a real smile on that face.”

I stared dryly at the decking, overdue for a power wash but then again, what did it matter. A little bit of must and dirt didn’t bother me.

“I’m not saying six months is enough time to get over what happened. But find a better therapist for me. This one isn’t-”

“Josh I’m tired. I set up everything all by myself this year. I’m just tired is all. I had fun today. I promise,” I said.

“Alright. Get some sleep then baby brother,” he said, ruffling my hair one last time.

“Not a baby,” I mumbled.

“Hey,” he said. I looked back and up at him. “You’re my baby brother no matter what, understand?” I nodded, Josh returning it. “Sleep in tomorrow. I’ll handle breakfast.”

“Maybe,” I said, turning away, glad for when the door slid open and shut once more. I looked back, Josh gone, before leaning forward in my seat. I looked up at the dark cloudy sky, rubbing my palms together. “Honey if you’re up there…”

I squeezed my eyes shut, quickly forcing them open, scrunching up my face.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore. Nothing. Numb. But it’s been too long and everyone wants me to be better and...I can’t let ‘em down. It’s been six months. I should be better. But I just don’t...help me. Please. You have my back. I don’t know what to do except pretend the rest of my life and I’m scared what’ll happen if I do. It’s been six months and I can’t take it anymore. Tell me what to do. Please.”

A gentle breeze stirred through the air, a quiet rumble of thunder off in the distance.

“Dee?” I glanced up only to be hit in the face with hard droplets of rain, the sky opening up and pouring down. I blinked the water away, staring down at my lap. “You’re not up there. You’re just fucking gone.”

It took a moment for me to make myself rise, bringing water into the bedroom. I locked up and ditched my wet clothes in the bathroom, standing in front of the shower absently. I caught my reflection in the glass, turning to the floor length mirror, tracing a finger over the scar on my hip. I narrowed my eyes, breathing deeply. I caught my reflection, quickly looking away.

But I forced myself to look back, to meet the hard green eyes, meet the pink edges to them, to look down at the scar and then back up.

“The one fucking time you’re not driving…” I grit out, clenching my fists. “I fucking hate you. I fucking hate you you worthless son of a bitch. If you were driving you could have saved her. You could have stopped it.”

I slammed a fist against my thigh, hitting the scar again. I forced myself to stop, release my hand and instead step in the shower. I turned the water to warm and stepped under the stream, closing my eyes. My skin warmed after a few minutes and I got out, changing into a fresh pair of briefs after I was dry. I stood in the closet, almost reaching for a shirt to sleep in when I went to the other side, flipping on the light. It was mostly empty, a few boxes in there but most of it was given away to family and friends or donated.

I stopped at the items still on hangers, grabbing a gray oversized fleece hoodie. I tugged it on, still too big for me even now. Definitely too big when I was a little twenty five year old. I grabbed the collar and tugged it up, taking a deep inhale, narrowing my eyes when all I smelled was a bit of dust. I hit off the light and went out to the bedroom, crawling into the middle.

I hadn’t worn the sweatshirt in a decade, not long after I started dating Danneel. I pulled up the hood and plopped down, sliding under the covers, turning to face her old side of the bed. It wasn’t too long after that I heard the door crack and hushed whispers filled the room.

“I told you he said he was tired. I mean, he did prep for everyone by himself. I’m tired and all I had to do was drive down here,” said Josh quietly. “Let him sleep.”

I shut my eyes, feeling a blanket be pulled over top of me.

“Sleep good, sweetie,” I heard mom say softly. The door to the room shut a few seconds later and I glanced back at it, plopping back down. I was exhausted. That much was true. I’d been exhausted the past six months. First it was the accident but trying to keep up with different projects and the brewery and suddenly being a single dad was fucking hard.

I rolled over and grabbed my phone, typing into google.

“Ten easy steps to finding a nanny,” I mumbled to myself. “If it’s so easy why’s there’s ten fucking steps…”

I sighed and exited back out, scrolling down the page, finding a more promising one.

“I’m thinking of getting a nanny,” I said the next day while I finished a cup of coffee with my parents and siblings, getting a few stares. “Okay. I see y’all have opinions on that.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” said Jared, smiling as he walked in with some bags in his arms. “You could do with the help.”

“You’ve had nannies before. You have a nanny now,” I said, Jared setting the bags of gifts down by the tree.

“Yeah so I know how useful they can be,” said Jared, getting some quick hugs from everyone. “I need to steal him for like ten minutes. Be right back.”

“Coffee,” I whined, Jared grabbing my hand and dragging me after himself. He pulled me over to the front door, letting me slip into some sneakers before heading outside. “What?”

I was pulled into a bear crushing hug, waiting a beat before I returned it.

“How’d it go, Christmas eve and Christmas and all that,” asked Jared.

“It was great.”

“We don’t lie to each other.” I rested my chin on Jared’s shoulder and closed my eyes.

“Hard,” I said quietly. “Dee’s parents are coming in today.”

“I know they are,” said Jared, rubbing my back.

“You’re supposed to be down at your parents place with your family.”

“I’m supposed to be with my brother. Don’t start your defensive shit. I thought you and your therapist were making some good progress on that.”

“I know,” I said. I hated that stupid lie I’d told. Hated every time someone brought it up. Especially hated when Jared did.

A small piece of me wondered if Jared would leave me too if he ever found out.

“Hey, hey,” said Jared, tugging me around the corner of the garage, holding me up when I started to cry.

“Don’t tell them or anyone,” I said, wiping the tears away with the backs of my hands. Jared caught my arms, my bottom lip wobbling. “Please. They treat me...if they see me get upset…please.”

“I won’t tell,” he said, wiping off the rest of my face while I cleared my throat.

“I good?” I asked, rubbing off my face. I blinked a few times, Jared nodding. He caught my shoulder, gnawing on his bottom lip. “Jared you promised.��

“I’m not gonna tell. I just hate that you’re afraid to let your family see you cry.”

“To be fair I hate to let anyone see me cry.”

“What makes me so special?”

“You’re you,” I said, a small smile on Jared’s face. “Our asses our stuck together forever whether we like it or not.”

“Oh I’m gonna annoy the shit out of you in the afterlife, don’t worry about that,” he chuckled. I nodded, glancing down. “I think the nanny idea is really good. You need help getting the kids to school and daycare and running errands. I mean your parents came up when you went out to LA for your suit being built but...you’ve got to be in Canada for The Boys in February. You’re gonna need help working full time again.”

“I know. I’m so tired all the time. I know that’s why I’m upset. I just need some sleep man.”

“How about tomorrow once everybody’s headed home, you guys come hang out at our place. We can help with the nanny stuff. We’ve been through it. We know the good agencies in town. Gen’s got a whole file on all that stuff.”

“I was thinking of a live-in nanny?” I said. “Is that weird? I feel weird enough having some stranger come in.”

“It’s not weird. I mean you got the guest suite near the garage. If anything you don’t have to stress so much. Someone’s right down the hall. It’s a great idea. I’m proud of you.” I raised an eyebrow, Jared rolling his eyes. “What, I can’t be proud of you?”

“Why? I have to hire a nanny because I can’t figure out how to do it alone when there’s only a gajillion other parents on the planet that don’t have a choice of-”

“You’ve been shitty at asking for help since I met you you know,” said Jared. I shrugged, Jared catching my arm. “I know this is the last thing in the world you want to do, admit you need help, but you’re the one that decided you need a nanny. No one talked you into that. You did that even though you don’t want to. That’s why I’m proud of you, jackass.”

“We were going to get one before…to help Dee out more. When I was away,” I said. I nodded, taking a deep breath. “Next year will be better. I’ll get back to acting, things’ll feel more normal.”

“Don’t go and turn into an optimist on me Jackles. I need my grumpy old man,” chuckled Jared.

“Old man my ass,” I said with a smirk. “You headed back?”

“Nope. Sadly your ass is stuck with me all day,” he said. I smiled, heading back around the front of the house with him.

“Mind giving me some back up in there with all the nanny questions I’m about to get?”

“Duh,” he said. “But first let’s finish your coffee before you bite someone’s head off.”

It’d been three days and I had narrowed it down to three nanny agencies in town. I’d gotten about fifty applications to sort through for interviews, rubbing my hands over my face after reading through most of them.

“Dad! Can I have sugar cookies?” asked JJ, skipping into the office. I glanced at the clock on the wall, an hour past bedtime for all three of them.

“Gettin’ kind of late kiddo. Why don’t you head up to bed and brush your teeth. I’ll be up to read in a minute, okay?” I said, forcing a smile. She stared me down, a look I recognized all too well. “JJ.”

“I know how to read,” she said with a huff.

“Well I guess you don’t need me for anything anymore huh?” I said without thinking, watching her face fall. “Honey-”

She took off running and I sighed as I sat back and stared up at the ceiling. I shook my head and got up, wandering upstairs, surprised to find the twins in bed asleep. JJ was in the middle of her bed, angrily holding her dog. She shot me a dirty look, a perfect match to my own.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching out and tucking her hair behind her ear.

“You put your brother and sister to bed for me?” I asked.

“Yes,” she grit out.

“You don’t have to do that, sweetie. That’s my job.”

“You have to do everything by yourself now. It’s not fair.”

“No it’s not. You’re too young to learn that life isn’t fair, even if you do everything right.” She scooted over into my lap, burrowing herself into my arms.

“We were good. Why didn’t Santa bring her back?” she asked. I tucked her head under my chin so she couldn’t look up, closing my eyes and scrunching up my face.

“Santa can do a lot. But he can’t do that. No one can,” I said. I stroked her hair, holding her tight. “It’s okay to miss mom still.”

“I know it is. I’m just scared.”

“Scared of what, munchkin.”

“I don’t want you to go.” I looked up, swallowing down the lump in my throat.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said. I kissed the top of her head, wrinkling my nose. “How about we save that cookie for a snack tomorrow, okay? I promise we can spend the day playing. I just have to do a little more work tonight.”

“Okay,” she said. She didn’t move and I didn’t have the heart to do it myself. It was one of the rare moments when one of the kids crawled in my lap, crawled all over me playing and poking and kicking, diving into my bed, waking up to one or all three of them having stolen my covers in the night...I could forget for a few seconds. Things were okay.

A few seconds later though she moved and I was biting the inside of my cheek. I put on a smile, tucking her in and turning on her light in the corner before hitting off the overhead one and shutting the door. I went back to my office, staring at the screen. I reached a hand over to my phone on the desk but stopped myself. Jared had spent the whole night before with me.

“You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine,” I breathed out quietly, clicking through to the next nanny profile.

Y/N Y/L/N. 29 Years Old. Home Pair Consultant 3 years. Nanny Core 2 years. Nanny Core Consultant 3 years. Independent Contractor Nanny Services 3 years.

“Certified in CPR and first aid. Homeschool certified K through 2nd grade. You sound like a little over achiever, don’t you,” I mumbled, reading through the rest of the page. “Specializes infants to age ten. Okay what do your ex-employers have to say…”

I found similar comments to some of the previous women, all nice things, got along with kids great, very easy going, etc. But one made my eyes go wide and chuckle.

She didn’t sleep with my skank of a an ex-husband when he pursued her. She brought this news to my attention discretely and regularly took on additional time with the kids while I met with divorce lawyers. It was unfortunate that I could no longer afford to employ her on a single income but she truly cares about the family she works for. My daughters cried for a week when we had to end our services with her but I was very grateful she didn’t brush the incident under the rug.

“Yeah, I think you’re getting an interview for that alone,” I said with a tiny smile. “But what the fuck is a consultant…”

It took a few days but eventually I had the eight prospective nannies lined up for interviews on Saturday. So far all seven were very nice ladies but I just could not stand the thought of occupying the same room for more than an hour let alone have them live in the house. The issue must have been with me if none of them seemed like a good fit. I really didn’t want to be doing this and I must have been putting off some strange vibe.

“Maybe I don’t need a nanny. Maybe...maybe I just don’t need a nanny. I can do this. I can do this on my own. If I just manage work around the kids schedule...and mom and dad come down and watch the kids while I’m up filming and if I fly back and forth every week and mid week...I can do this. I can do this. I don’t need a nanny. I got this. I so got this.”

I sighed when I recalled the same pep talk two weeks ago I’d given myself. The one that led to contemplating quitting acting that night and then proceeding to lay in bed crying half the night.

“Nope. Nope. We just have to calm down. Calm down. It’s not you. Just didn’t find the right one yet. That’s all,” I said to myself, breathing quietly. I rubbed my eyes and yawned, looking over at the coffee maker. “Oh coffee. At least I’ll always have you.”

The doorbell rang and I sighed.

“Great. You’re early,” I groaned. I threw my head back and went to the front door, tearing it open. A woman stood there in a pair of dark jeans and sneakers, a plain light gray t-shirt on, hair pulled back in a ponytail, a few strands falling loose and framing her face.

Oh well she was definitely the cutest by and far.

I realized I was staring and blinked, rubbing my face.

“Hi. You must be from Nanny Core,” I said. She smiled and cocked her head.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N from Home Pair,” she said. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the side of the door, contemplating just slamming it right against it.

“The last girl was from Nanny Core,” I said, opening my eyes, shaking my head. “I’m so sorry. Yes, Y/N. You’re the one that’s a consultant, not firmly associated with Home Pair, right?”

“Correct,” she said, stepping inside when I let her past. She looked around and smiled, seemingly used to a larger sort of home.

“May I ask what the distinction is?”

“Mostly it has to do with benefits,” she said. “Consultants pay out of pocket for their own or negotiate with their client for those to be covered.”

“Gotcha,” I said with a yawn. Great I looked like a fucking asshole. She looked ahead past the front hall towards the back of the house where the kitchen and family room was. I wiped a hand over my face, a pit already in my stomach, the poor girl already probably already waiting for the interview to end so she could leave. “I’m sorry. I must seem like an ass.”

“You seem tired is all Mr. Ackles. Not a crime,” she said with a smile. I wasn’t expecting such a genuine answer, not a bullshit I’ll pander to you cause I want this job, kind of answer. She was different than the other applicants for sure. Something warm and caring to her. I nodded and found myself smiling, probably the first genuine one I’d had in months.

“Mind if we do the interview in the kitchen over a cup of coffee?” I asked.

“Wherever you like, sir,” said Y/N. I started to head over to the table, pausing when she was trying to kick off her sneakers, one of them tied a bit too tightly to go off easily. She hopped once, nearly tripping and I looked away, chuckling quietly before she was by my side again.

“Uh, for the record, call me Jensen. None of that sir stuff. They must teach that at nanny school or something huh?” I said. I led her over to the table, pulling out a chair. “I noticed all of you do it.”

“Something like that,” she said. She took a seat and I stifled another yawn, turning and blinking my eyes, heading to the coffee machine. I reached for the cap to put some grounds in, the thing falling and bouncing across the counter, straight into a dirty bowl in the sink. Naturally. I leaned over the counter, holding the edge tightly, squeezing my eyes shut. “How about I make the coffee and you take a seat, hm?”

“I’m okay,” I said, popping my head up and turning around with a smile. She looked me up and down, something gentle about her.

“Well making you coffee is probably going to come up in my job quite a bit so consider this part of the interview. It’s alright, really,” said Y/N. I stared at her, a little smile forming on her face. She wasn’t sucking up or trying to kiss my ass. There was a kindness to her that was incredibly attractive. Something in that little smile causing the tiniest little flutter. I blinked, slipping past her.

“Thank you,” I said. She started to make a cup, keeping my back to her. I put a hand on my chest, the flutter dissipating. After a moment I sat down, turning back just as the cup started to fill up. She watched it carefully but with an ease that said she was used to working with that kind of maker. Her hand slipped into her back pocket as she shifted on her feet, her ass rounding out amazingly in her jeans.

What the fuck was wrong with me? God she was only making a cup of coffee for fucks sake.

“I’m gonna ask you the same question I’ve asked all seven other women I’ve talked to today,” I said, forcing a smile when she picked up the mug.

“Yes?”

“Why should I trust you to watch my children?”

“Honestly?” she asked. I nodded and she had that look on her face again. Soft. Slightly concerned. Still smiling. Beautiful. She set the cup down in front of me, a look to let it cool, the barest glimmer of a smirk when I reached for it anyways. There was another flutter in my chest and I took a long sip, burning the tip of my tongue. Part of me hated it, hated that it was possible to develop an attraction to anyone else. But that other part...it was so happy to be feeling something again, especially something good. “You shouldn’t.”

“I shouldn’t. That seems counterproductive.”

“I wouldn’t trust any stranger with my child. Trust is earned, not given. I think the real question is do you believe I’m capable of earning that trust with you and that’s something intrinsically only you know.”

“How so?”

“You meet a lot of different kinds of people with this job. My gut reaction to you is stressed, overwhelmed, sleep-deprived father who doesn’t really want any nanny at all but is forced into this situation. It’s going to be impossible for you to trust any of the seven woman from earlier or me off the bat, Jensen. You should be thinking of who will you come to trust. Who can you count on.”

“This is why my wife should have been the one doing this,” I said. I took a sip of coffee, biting back a small smile.

“We could always re-schedule for when she’s available.”

“Oh, we’d have to wait a very long time for that,” I chuckled. She looked lost and I realized it was time for that part of the interview again. I smiled, hoping she wouldn’t feel awkward. “She passed away unexpectedly six months ago. Car accident.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” said Y/N. I nodded, pursing my lips, catching her open her mouth after a beat. “My mom died kinda unexpectedly. I know it’s…harder.”

“You’re young. How old?” I asked. She shrugged, glancing down.

“Turned thirty today,” said Y/N. She was cute, still young but she was starting to click. Her kindness, that air about her. Maybe she could sense something going on but was too polite to ask. I let out a small laugh, shaking my head when she started to frown.

“Well Happy Birthday. I meant with your mother though. If that’s okay with you I mean.”

“It’s fine. I was sixteen,” she said. I dropped the smile and took a deep breath. No one deserved that. Especially not a kid. I was a grown man and I could barely handle a loss that close. But she seemed...okay.

I just wanted to be okay again. It’d been too long though and I cleared my throat.

“That…fucking sucks doesn’t it?” I said.

“So does losing your wife,” said Y/N. I nodded and offered a soft smile.

“Yes it does. I’ve grieved. We all have. The kids are small. They’ll be okay.”

“Is dad okay?” she asked. Not really but that was far too much to put on anyone, especially a stranger.

“Yes. Ready to start moving on with life again,” I said, looking her up and down once. I hope she accepted the offer. She didn’t have to be perfect. She didn’t have the most certifications out of all of the applicants but she was the only one I genuinely enjoyed being around and that was the most important thing at the end of the day. “You’re kind. Not in a I’m trying to get this job kind of way. Just kind.”

“Well being cruel doesn’t sound like very much fun.”

“You’re not trying to impress me.”

“The first rule of nannying, Jensen. You think you’re interviewing us when in reality we’re interviewing you too.”

“How am I doing so far?” I asked, realizing after the words were out how flirty it sounded.

“Nice coffee choice,” she said with a smile. “You respect people. You’ll employ me but won’t treat me like I’m second class. You’re checking the boxes so far.”

“What if I don’t check all the boxes?” I asked.

“You don’t get to know the luxury of knowing the answer yet, Mr. Ackles,” said Y/N. “Interview isn’t over.” It wasn’t arrogance in her voice when she spoke though. Almost careful, protective.

“You got fucked over by somebody, didn’t you.”

“Also perceptive,” she said, rubbing her arm absentmindedly. “Like I said, I don’t tolerate being treated unkindly anymore. It’s why I left my last position.”

“I have one more question. Would you treat my children like they’re your own?”

“Again, asking the wrong question,” she said. I sat back and crossed my arms, smirking at her. She gave it right back and I nodded.

“What exactly should I be asking?”

“Will you treat my children kindly and with respect but take charge when required?”

“What’s the difference?”

“One is me doing my job and the other is me doing yours.”

“How old did you say you were again?”

“Thirty today.”

“Right. Well I think I know where I stand. Do you have anything for me?” I asked. Hopefully she just accepted the pay offer without a fuss.

“Can you show me a picture of your kids?” she asked. I stared for a brief moment before reaching back and taking out my wallet. “You answered my question.”

“I didn’t show you anything yet.”

“You’d be surprised how many fathers I’ve met don’t carry pictures of their children in their wallets. That one is just a me thing.”

“Your dad do that?” I asked, putting it back. She made a face, looking away.

“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. She didn’t look back for a long moment. Dead mom at 16 and distant dad. It wasn’t a stretch to see how a girl like that wound up nannying straight out of high school. “I think I know where I stand as well.”

“I’d like to hire you,” I said. She smiled and I instantly relaxed, aside from a few flutters stirring again.

“Assuming our negotiations go well, I accept,” she said. We shook hands, hers small and soft, but the grip was solid. Kind but she’d kick your ass if she had to. I smiled, flutters going off stronger now that the nerves of finding someone were dwindling.

“I did come up with what I thought was fair for salary and benefits. Let me go grab the paperwork and hopefully settle on something,” I said. I went down to the office, grabbing the pile of offer papers off the desk and a notebook. I froze when a pleasant chill ran down my spine.

I was happy because I’d found a good fit. I was excited over a lot of stress being gone.

That was it. That was it.

I swallowed and went back out to the kitchen with a smile.

“If I’m missing anything let me know. I-”

“This is my weekly rate?” she asked when she reviewed her pay sheet.

“Oh no. That’s your daily,” I said as I sat down. I swallowed when she put the paper down. “So I think that’s-”

“Jensen. I have to ask, things like insurance, are those coming out of your pocket or mine?”

“I’ll cover the expenses of your health, dental, all of that. You just choose and I’ll subsize it as part of your paycheck.”

“This is for a live in position. Um…can you just…explain what makes up that daily rate number?” she asked. I cocked my head. I thought I’d spelled it out in the paperwork but I probably missed something.

“It’s simply your base pay. Obviously I pay for housing, utilities, gas obviously. I will get you a credit card to make purchases with for the kids and all of that so it’s simple to keep track of. You’re free to any of the food in the kitchen. I’m guessing the salary is the sticking point here.”

“Jensen,” she said, scratching her head.

“I can go up fifty more dollars a day,” I blurted out.

“Jensen. This is way, way too much money. Way too much,” she said. “The average rate around here is about twenty five an hour or two hundred a day. Jensen this is double that. Are you factoring in like time and a half for additional nights and weekends?”

“No. That’d be on top of that. I thought that was a fair value based on the fact you are going to be taking care of the most valuable things in my life. It’s gonna get taxed too so it’s not like you see all of it.”

“You’re sweet, Jensen,” she said, writing down a number at the top of the page. “The average in Austin is twenty five an hour. I would be very happy with that.”

“You have to literally be the first person in existence to negotiate their salary down from the offer,” I said, shaking my head. She was watching my kids. She deserved to be paid well for doing her job well.

“Are you rejecting my offer?” she asked. She stared and I took the paper and crossed her number out, jotting down thirty five and spinning it back. “Jensen.”

“Y/N,” I said, crossing my arms. Why couldn’t she just accept? She scowled and I huffed. Of course she had a stubborn side. “I came down. Now it’s your turn. Do you accept?”

“I will accept on the condition that you get four hours of what we’d call evening or weekend at the normal rate every week.”

“I can agree to that,” I said with a smile, writing that down, happy when she signed the page. “So medical plan. Single, plus one, family?”

“Single for all that.”

“I should mention that there is an in-law suite off to the other side of the garage where you’ll be staying. It’s just down the hall but it has its own small living area and kitchenette. There is a separate entrance to it. If you have guests over I just ask you keep them to your area of the house.”

“Absolutely. I don’t tend to bring people over much anyways while I’m on the job,” she said. “Alright. Everything looks good to me.”

“Awesome. Are you available to start Monday?”

“Sure,” said Y/N. “It gives me plenty of time to move in things tomorrow so I can jump into the kids routine first thing Monday.”

“Perfect. I’ll show you around. We can start with your side of the house.”

I got up and Y/N followed me down to the guest suite in the front corner of the house. I opened the door for her, Y/N slipping inside and looking around. It wasn’t large but it was decent enough for one person.

“Like I said, I know it’s small. Please like, seriously watch TV out in the family room at night if you want or hang out wherever or the yard or pool. This is just your own space when you want to be away from us.” I said. I got a hum out of her and showed her the rest of the space, Y/N running her hand over the bedding. “If there’s something obvious I’m missing please let me know. A cleaning service does come by every two weeks on Tuesdays at around ten in the morning. They’ll do in here too. Otherwise you can keep after yourself. Cleaning stuff is in the laundry room. Oh yeah. Um, this is probably the last time I’ll like, ever come in here unless you need help moving things in since this will be your space.”

“Thanks. I don’t have too much. I do have one request before we sign all the paperwork.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d like to meet the kids if that’s alright. There’s not much point in hiring me if they hate me.”

“Fair point. We’ll get ‘em over here and then get you all squared away,” I said. “One second.”

“Of course,” she said. I stepped out of the suite and ducked into the garage, Jared answering on the second ring.

“Get through all the interviews?” he asked.

“Yeah. I uh, hired the last girl. She’s great. Super qualified, really get along with her,” I said.

“Good man. I’m glad you found one. When’s she start?”

“Monday. But she wants to meet the kids, says if they don’t like her there’s not much point in her doing this.”

“Smart lady,” chuckled Jared. “I’ll drop ‘em off in ten. You can tell me how it went when I get there.”

“Sounds good,” I said. I shoved my phone back in my pocket, smiling for a moment when I stepped back in the hall and caught a whiff of her perfume. I went back to the doorway, Y/N fumbling with the curtain in there. “Uh so is there anything I can get you? For your room?”

“No, this is great. Can I check out the rest of the house?” asked Y/N. I hummed and followed her as she wandered around the downstairs a bit, poking her head in the office and home gym, spotting the laundry room and humming.

“The playroom is downstairs, kids and me are up,” I said. “There’s a loft and little reading room up here too if you like that sort of thing.”

“Your home is beautiful,” she said, walking up the stairs, following me down the hall. She smiled when she entered, looking at the bookcase. “You read these.”

“Hm?”

“Some people buy pretty books for their home libraries. But these are all random, a little messy. You read,” she said. She stopped at the sliding door out to the small balcony, looking out at the yard. “Your house feels homey for how large it is.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Anywhere besides my room is free to use.”

“Of course. I take it you do your own laundry then?” she asked.

“I’m a big boy. I can do my own laundry,” I said. She hummed, spinning back with a soft smile. “Um. Y/N. Chores and things like that...those are my responsibility, not yours. You’re here to-”

“I have to do some chores. It’s part of taking care of kids. My job is to take care of them but also make dad’s life easier. If I have to wash a bedspread or go get juice from the store or whatever it is, I’m gonna do it. I’ll hang back but I’ll also do my job.”

“Understood. You’ll let me know if I’m stepping into your territory?” I asked. She shook her head and hummed, walking past me and out to the hall, going down to the kids rooms. “I miss the joke?”

“I’ve worked for one other single parent before and three divorced ones. They couldn’t do jack shit for their kids. They barely knew them. I don’t think I’ll have that problem with you Jensen,” she said.

“To be honest I’d rather not be doing this,” I said. She didn’t seem disappointed in that strangely, more, sad almost. “But I’ll get the hang of it.”

“Yes you will,” she said, stopping outside Arrow’s room. “Youngest daughter?” she said, pointing inside.

“I’m sorry. We were looking for what is youngest daughter,” I said. She rolled her eyes and smiled, following me inside. “This is Arrow’s room. She and my son Zeppelin are twins. He’s across the hall.”

“I’m going to guess four years old?” she said.

“How’d you know?” She smirked and pointed at a birthday card sticking out from the bookcase, a large 4 on it. “You’re very observational.”

“I’ve nannined a lot of 4 year olds. Their rooms tend to be organized chaos,” she said. She looked out the window, back to the room.

“Can I ask why you do that?”

“Fires,” she said with a shrug. I blinked, not even considering that for a second. “Never hurts to be over prepared. I’ll learn the house soon. This is your son’s room?”

“Yeah,” I said, following her across the hall, Y/N popping out after a moment. “My oldest is next door. The kids have a bathroom they all share across.”

“What grade is she?” asked Y/N, stepping into the room.

“First. Second. Second,” I said. “She’s seven.”

“What’s her name?”

“JJ. Well, Justice Jay, but she’s always JJ.”

“What was your wife’s name, if that’s okay.”

“Danneel,” I said with a quick swallow. She smiled, laughing to herself.

“Should have known with names like that mom had to have something unique too,” she said. “So JJ is in school. What about the little ones? They have daycare?”

“Yeah they go to daycare normally five days a week but sometimes if it’s a quiet day I don’t have them go. Or one goes and I spend some time with the other. They already know how to do shit I didn’t learn until first grade,” I said.

“This one’s a reader too,” she said, picking up a book from the nightstand. “She’s ahead for her age.”

“That’s what the school tells me. If only she was as good at her math,” I said.

“It’ll click for her eventually. She’s smart. Probably a visual learner. I used to draw problems out myself,” she said, setting the book down. “Any after school activities? Sports? Clubs?”

“I have a calendar I’ll show you. It’s the only way I keep it straight,” I said. She went past and to the hall, glancing down the long stretch of hallway, a pair of double doors on the other end. “That’s my room.”

“Okay then,” she said.

“I mean...you can look if you want.”

“I’m going to give you the same courtesy as well. I won’t be going there unless there’s an emergency.” I nodded, turning to head back downstairs, accidentally bumping her.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, Y/N giggling and shaking her head at me.

“Dude. Relax. My job is to make you more relaxed so get on that, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

“What am I gonna do with you Jensen,” she teased, heading back down the hall and her feet on the steps down after a moment. I glanced down and put a hand on my stomach, sliding it up to my chest. I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath.

I was nervous. Or excited. Or something. Happy to have found a nanny. That was all. That was really all.

“Y/N I’ll be down in a minute. The kids should be here soon,” I called, quickly ducking into my room and closing the door. I sat down against it, staring ahead blankly. “It’s a crush. S’just a crush.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my palms against my head.

“Jensen,” said Jared and I jumped, the door pushing open. I looked up, Jared quickly shutting the door and kneeling down. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Where’s Y/N?” I asked, blinking a few times.

“Playing with the kids in the yard. They kinda love her already. What is going on?” he asked. I held up a hand before shrugging. “No no. You’re not getting off the hook that easy. What happened?”

“She made me coffee,” I said, Jared making a face.

“I don’t understand what you’re-”

“Do you remember when you met Gen? You couldn’t get her out of your head for weeks. That feeling when...some part of you knows something you don’t?” I said.

“Jay. What are-”

“Do you remember?”

“Of course I do. Why?”

“I just had it for the second time in my life,” I said. Jared sat down on his bottom, crossing his legs. “I’m kinda freaking out.”

“Y/N?” he asked. I nodded, Jared sliding over next to me. “I mean she’s pretty. She’s beautiful. You might just have a crush. I mean you don’t go anywhere anymore except the store or work or doctors appointments. Maybe it’s just cause she’s new...and you know the difference between a crush and something else. You’re sure?”

“Not to be a complete fucking sap but I only ever felt like this once in my life and that was after that first real conversation with Dee I had when we carpooled. It took me a week to figure out what it was but I knew and it’s that same…” I said. Jared nodded, throwing his arm over my shoulders. “I barely know the girl. It’s a crush. It’s a crush. That’s it. That’s all it is. That is all that it is.”

“Not to be a complete fucking sap myself but when you know dude you fucking know. You’ve been through it once and you know what it feels like. Maybe...maybe it is just a crush. But maybe she’s the one that’s gonna get you to be fucking happy again. Maybe get you back out there at least. Maybe she’s just a jumpstart huh? Not saying you’re gonna marry the girl or she’s your soulmate but maybe she’s what you need right now, right?”

“Jared. I was never going to date again. Ever. Pretty women...I didn’t care about them. I don’t think I’ve even gotten off since the accident. I just wanted to be a good father and be good at my job and that was all that was left for me,” I said. Jared sat up and shook his head but I shook mine right back. “I know that’s not what I told you but you just wouldn’t shut the fuck up about that shit so I told you what you wanted to hear.”

“Ignoring that fucked up shit, which we’re gonna fucking talking about,” he said as I rolled my eyes, “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I swore off women forever and now my stomach is doing flips like it’s my first middle school dance but it’s…”

“It’s what?”

“I talked to her for half an hour. That’s the best fucking half hour of my life these past six months. Easily. I don’t feel like shit around her and right now, I don’t feel like shit and I forgot how fucking good it feels to not feel like shit. Do you understand?” I asked. Jared nodded, pulling me into a hug. “What do I do?”

“Not feel like shit,” he said. I groaned and he rested his chin on my shoulder. “Jared.”

“If she makes you feel good and happy when you actively were against those things, what do you think she’ll be able to do for you if you give her a real chance?”

“I’m her boss. And Dee-”

“Dee doesn’t want you to spend the rest of your life being a good father and good at your job and feeling like shit and nothing else. She wants you to fall in love again and fall as hard as the first time.”

“It’s just a stupid crush,” I said. I stood up, walking across the room, putting my back to him. Only a second passed before I felt him behind me, a hand on top of my head.

“Maybe it’s a stupid crush. Maybe she is the start of your life again too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said, his hand sliding down to my back.

“Remember the first time I helped you shower after the accident?” he said, curling his fingers around my waist. “Bit my fucking head off the entire time while I helped you stand up.”

“Yes I remember,” I grumbled. I crossed my arms, still not turning around.

“That was the first day I saw you after the accident that you weren’t loaded up on pain killers and you were different. You’ve been different.”

“Gee golly Jared. I wonder why?”

“Past six months...you’re still that guy in the shower yelling at me that he doesn’t need help.”

“Just because I don’t want to date again doesn’t mean I’m fucked up. I’m forty two with three little kids. There’s nothing wrong with not wanting to fall in love again,” I snapped, spinning around. He nodded, smiling to himself. “What.”

“You make it sound like you’re gonna have a choice in whether you fall in love when you meet the right person.”

“I’m not gonna fucking fall in love with some girl I just met. There’s a million reasons why it won’t happen.”

“You’re not gonna have a fucking choice.”

“It’s all my choice,” I grit out. Jared shook his head and I clenched my fists.

“I’ve known you over sixteen years. Better than any other human being. I haven’t seen a real smile on your face in over half a year. Except when I came in here and you were sitting there with the stupidest grin on your face talking about Y/N. It works out, it doesn’t work out. Either way, you’re along for the fucking ride so you might as well enjoy it.”

I swallowed, glancing down.

“Have you ever lied to me in the past six months about how you’re doing? How’re you feeling? Anything?” asked Jared. The therapist lie shot to the front of my mind, logic coming in and screaming shut up, more logic coming in to say it’s Jared, it’s okay. “I’m guessing by the mental gymnastics you look like you’re going through, that’s a yes.”

“Jared-”

“I could have done a lot more to help you. I let you fester on your own and-”

“I don’t need you to take care of me. I’m an adult.” I frowned and walked in front of him, Jared pursing his lips. “Leave.”

“Jensen.”

“Leave.”

“No.” He shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I get to take care of you because I love you. If you don’t like that well tough shit.”

“Get the fuck out of my house and stay out,” I growled. Jared looked down, shaking his head and walking away. He was out of the room when my skin prickled, the happy flutter feelings gone, a pit opening up instead. “Jared. Jared.”

I went to the door, catching him halfway down the hall.

“Jared.”

“I’m going.” He turned the corner, beanie out of view. Fuck. I ducked back in the room, sitting on the bed, toes curling into the fabric. My head was face down in my knees when the door opened softly. My eyes darted over, Jared walking back inside, pulling his beanie down over my head. “I wasn’t going anywhere. Just had to see if you’d ask for help.”

“I’m not very good at it. Obviously,” I said.

“No. No you are not. But what’s in the past, we can’t change it. Just what’s in front. And for you that is the cute nanny that you may or may not end up falling in love with.”

“Jared I can’t love her.”

“Why not?”

“I love Dee. She was it.”

“I’m not saying to stop loving Dee. Shit she’d never want you to do that. But honestly, does she want you to be like this for the rest of your life? Or does she want you to laugh and smile and find a best friend again?”

“I know she wants me to be happy. I know what she wants. You don’t get it.”

“Then help me get it.”

“Say I fell in love again. Say I managed to find the right person and I fell in love. I gave her everything I have left and I’m happy. Then she gets in an accident one day or she has an aneurysm one day or she gets mugged one day or whatever it is. Say she doesn’t come home one day. I can’t put myself through that again. I just can’t. It would destroy me. I can’t do that again.”

“I won’t tell you what to do, Jay. I’d never say that. But you have a choice to make then from what I’m hearing you say.”

“What?”

“Stay single, be afraid of being hurt again and get by. Or risk being hurt again and maybe you get hurt, maybe you don’t, but you’ll be out there living again. Dude if you never want to date again that is completely your choice. But don’t not date because you’re afraid. It’s like I said before, like you were saying, if you find that girl, the right girl, you won’t have a choice at all.”

“She’s my employee,” I said, shifting my legs, sitting cross legged. “Not to mention I don’t even know if she’s single. You saw her. No way is a beautiful woman like that on her own. Then there’s the age difference and the kids thing and the whole I’m an actor thing and-”

“Didn’t say to propose to her. Just...put out some feelers. Maybe if the topic comes up and she’s single, mention you got a friend that’s like you, see if there’s interest.”

“God I hope she’s single,” I said. He smirked, bumping my shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Tell me about her,” he said.

“I don’t know a whole lot,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

“But you like her.” I nodded, getting another bump. “I think you’re gonna marry that girl.”

“What?” I laughed. “We don’t even know if she’s single!”

“Nah, you’re gonna marry her. I got a feeling.”

“Oh I see. A feeling.”

“I’ve known you over sixteen years and haven’t been able to get through that thick head. She’s known you half an hour and she got in without even trying. I wonder where I got that idea from,” he said. I lifted my head, Jared’s face relaxed. A lump formed in my throat and he reached out, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Jensen. I heard it in your voice when you called me just now. Something’s different.”

“I don’t want to be in a relationship,” I said. “I honestly don’t.”

“Maybe she’ll be the one to make you change your mind on that.”

“She’s not even interested in me. I’m a widow with 3 small kids. I’m away from home a lot. I’m the worst person in the world to date.”

“Maybe. But you’re a pretty good person to love and be loved by. Might just be enough, even for a grumpy Ackles.”

“She did make me coffee,” I said quietly, lip twitching up.

“Coffee?”

“I know. But it’s...I don’t know. Something...changed. She was pretty when I opened the door but when she made me coffee, that’s when I noticed that feeling.”

“Maybe she’ll make you coffee again,” he said, smirking as he stood up. “Outside.”

“Hm?”

“Outside with the cute nanny. Let’s go,” he said, dragging me off the bed to my feet. He pulled off the beanie and pushed me out of the room, being a little shit and trying to pick me up. I kicked my feet up and we both went backwards, Jared grinning and giving me that look.

“Oh you’re on little shit,” I said, flipping my leg around, Jared yelping as he got pulled down to the side. I jumped on top of him, Jared rolling me back. A spark of pain shot down my hip, Jared instantly up and off. “I’m alright.”

“You stretching it out still like you’re supposed to?” he asked. I rolled my eyes and he helped me to my feet, waiting as I did a few wide circles with my leg. “Do your at home physical therapy ya idiot.”

“I”m perfectly fine. Just save the wrestling for the rug next time,” I said. “You want to say hey to Y/N?”

“No that’s cool. I’m sure I’ll properly meet her when you’re ready for me too,” he said. “Oh and Arrow and Zeppelin ate way too much candy at my house so have fun with that.”

“I hate you.” He grinned and let out a chuckle. “Hopefully they burn off some running around out there at least.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” he said. “Do you want to grab a drink later? Maybe hit up the brewery?”

“I don’t know,” I said, rubbing my arm for a moment.

“Do you want to be on your own tonight?” I blinked, Jared shrugging. “Might as well be point blank about it. Since you’re never lying to me again, right?”

“Let me call up the neighbors, see if the girl next door can watch the kids tonight. I wouldn’t mind a little fun,” I said.

“Shoot me a text and I’ll swing by around eight,” he said.

“Jared.” He stopped turning to leave and I sighed. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m...we rarely fight. Rarely. But this is kinda big and I want to tell you the truth but I’m scared if I do you’ll walk out that door and never look back.”

“We can fight, Jensen. I’m sure we’ll have more someday. We can get pissed as hell at each other. But your ass is stuck with me forever and I’m stuck with yours. I know you and I love you and you’re my big brother. We’re not supposed to agree all the time. We’re gonna hurt each other sometimes. That’s just part of being a family though. I’ll never walk out on you just like I know you won’t do that to me. It’s different right now. I know. I don’t want this to stress you out. You got enough of that going on. Tell me when you’re ready okay?”

“I never saw a therapist. I lied to get everyone off my back when I was still...like this after a few months. I thought I could handle it on my own. I’m sorry for lying, especially to you.” Jared nodded, biting his bottom lip for a moment. “You’re angry.”

“Angry at myself, not you. I know what it’s like to feel alone, that alone. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I’m sorry you’ve felt that alone Jensen. I didn’t realize you felt that badly and I should have. That’s why I’m upset. Not at you.”

“You’ve grown up more,” I said quietly.

“If we can get back to me being the one freaking out over shit and you being the adult I’d prefer that,” he chuckled. He put his hands on my shoulders and smiled. “I got your back. Always.”

“I don’t want to go to one.”

“You’re a big boy. You can decide on your own. Just...call me when you feel shitty next time?”

“I will. I promise.”

“Or to talk about Y/N,” he teased. I rolled my eyes, Jared giving me a quick hug.

“Dick.”

“But I’m your dick. I’ll see you tonight.”

“See ya.”

______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

#supernatural #spn #Jensen x reader #Jensen ackles #jensen ackles fanfic #Jensen series #Jensen #Jensen x nanny!reader #Jensen pov

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kingdomvel · 1 year

Text

WIP Wednesday

From two different works today!!

This first one is from Returning Hope, which I think I may post tomorrow?? idk, depends on how much rereading I want to do.

When they are finished Anakin looks at the baby for a few seconds and then around, “there must be something around here the baby can eat that we can take.” He says while getting up.

Obi-Wan hadn’t thought about that.

“Do you think he can eat stuff? Do we have to get milk for him?” he asks, getting up after Anakin to follow him into the other room, the baby still in his arms.

“Hmm probably both, he looks about 7-8 months old? He can eat mushy things.”

“How do you know?” Obi-Wan asks while Anakin starts opening cabinets and drawers.

Anakin pauses and looks at him with confusion. “Because I took care of my nephew when he was that age?”

Oh, right. Anakin’s nephew, a boy around Leia’s age that he had helped raise when he was still back in Tatooine. Luke.

“Right” Obi-Wan says. He rocks Sek and pats his back lightly while he looks at Anakin and he looks back at him.

“You have no idea how to take care of a baby, do you?” Anakin asks. Obi-Wan shrugs and Anakin laughs, “good thing you have me with you.”

“Yeah,” Obi-Wan answers softly, “good thing you are here with me.”

This second one is from the physical therapist Obi-Wan AU, which will be coming... at some point

"Wait a second here.”

Obi-Wan grabs three of the pints – Anakin guesses the fourth one is for him – and walks back to the place his friends are standing at next to a table. Quinlan immediately grabs one of the pints and downs half of it while two girls get the other ones from Obi-Wan’s hands. Obi-Wan must be talking, even if Anakin can only see his back, because Quinlan brings his pint down and looks towards the bar, his eyes roaming a bit before he finds Anakin and his face splits with a grin. Anakin waves at him, Quinlan returns the wave very briefly before he is turning back towards Obi-Wan.

Anakin knows teasing when he sees it. He recognizes it in the way Quinlan is laughing at Obi-Wan, saying something Anakin can’t hear, in the way he hits his shoulder and shakes him briefly. Obi-Wan shakes off his hand and starts walking backwards with a wave before he turns back to properly walk towards Anakin again, just at the same time as Quinlan shouts a ‘get him Kenobi!’.

#wip wednesday #obikin au #obikin #you guys are not ready for an Anakin jealous of a 7 month old #writing stuff #returning hope

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winderlylandchime · 8 months

Note

I am just coming in with a little warning that I’m gonna send you 3x01 in 3 parts because he went through a lot of emotions. He did decide that he wants to continue with the show tomorrow because he is tired today, he swears it’s from recovery but he did say to the neighbor that he’s tired because he put all his energy into defending Brian. So basically he’s tired from yelling at a tv. Also your reply about hipaa reminded me (i would like to specify this by saying: I didn’t want to send it until i got permission by asking him if i can tell a ‘friend’ he doesnt know about it and he looked at me like i was dumb to think that someone would think this is something to be private about) he is very very excited to show his therapist tomorrow his new Team Brian shirt and he can’t wait to see what he will say about it. Now it is a zoom type of session since he isnt near his therapist at the moment and I know the therapist would never do this but it’d be hilarious (to me as his sister) if the guy just closed his laptop on my brother ngl. Like do you realize that this man literally woke up one random morning and decided to make QAF a problem for like 6 different medical professionals.

Dear sweet anon!

You are such a saint to keep us updated.

He’s tired from defending Brian. OMG. He would be, he’s putting his whole butt into this watch and his reactions (and his new t shirt making business).

I AM LITERALLY DYING AT THE IDEA OF HIM TALKING TO HIS THERAPIST ABOUT THIS. He woke up one random morning and decided to making QAF a problem for like 6 different medical professionals. I am daydreaming about my team’s consultation meeting tomorrow (where we bring questions about different cases to consult on what the best practices are) and I’m imagining one of our therapists saying “So I have a client who just started watching this TV show - well, not just, because he’s about 3 seasons in - and it’s Queer something something and I’m a little concerned.” I would fall to the floor (it’s carpeted, I’ll be okay).

Meanwhile we had a work dinner this last weekend and my spouse fully got two of our therapists interested in watching QAF. Like no big deal, just who’s going to help these people through what is about to happen?!?! Not my spouse… to quote Justin Timberlake, “it’s gonna be may.”

Okay onwards to 301 and THE PUNCH HEARD ‘ROUND THE WORLD.

#ask winderlylandchime #dear sweet anon #queer as folk #a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023

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quarantinescarpet · 1 year

Text

My quotes list from over the years

FRESHMAN

-“‘tis I the frenchiest fry.”

-“Someone’s stabbing me in the leg with a spork.”

-“I A DEMOCRAT OOPS”

-Spill the pony tea.

-How many geese would it take to bring down a full grown man?

-Point is, I love you both and I would 10/10 ride a motorbike

-“Apparently someone in Mr. Hopkins G block got scared of turkey noises.”

-“It’s like... it’s like a stupid game of Russian roulette Tetris with giant death machines”

-“I feel like you'd have a shrine to remember Spider-man, complete with candles and every single ‘mr stark I don't feel so good’ meme printed out.”

-“don’t ask me, I don’t know anything about the sex”

-“I WILL RIP YOUR DICK OFF”

-“What’s the difference between gay silence and regular silence?”

-“what yields a focus pencil? A patience tree?”

-“I might boogie on the desk so hard that the gum keeping it together gets unchewed and yeets back into the dimension it belongs in”

-“You smell like my fencing teacher”

-“sponsor a sponsor! Become a child”

-“Woof woof bitch, im a furry.”

-“yo to the hoe”

-“does my emoji still smell?”

SOPHOMORE

-“peter doesn't have a detachable head”

-“two thirds of me is wearing glasses”

-“You look like you have autism. Are you vaccinated?”

-“When did Haydar become friends with Emily?” “In hell”

-“I know you have something to do with Filbert”

-“Ayo beans check”

-“Who cares about beating the game‽ I’m a goose.”

-“You can’t make contact lenses out of cranberries”

-“cannabalism is for beans”

-“You know the party is lit when the epileptic kid starts doing the worm”

-“Imagine getting stabbed to the beastie boys”

-“I CANT TORTILLA MY CHOCOLATE MILK”

-“Pure drip”

-“The All Mighty King Tuggle Wuggle the Original... The 5th”

-“It’s a drink.” “Coal?” “I’m sorry who the heck is drinking coal??” “It’s heroin.”

-“Is climate change good or bad?”

-“I’ve had to keep her from stealing my toes for so long”

-“Apples are delicious, babies are not.”

-“It’s like I’m exfoliating my knuckle”

-“We are literally just birds.”

-“I’m slowly transitioning to emo. Today I’m wearing navy blue, tomorrow it will be black.”

-“Omg Aimee why are you such a try hard” “Oh my god Ava why are you orange?”

-“Wait what the fuck does crashing a funeral have to do with driving?”

-“Why are blonde people driving???”

-“That house looks like stephen king” “its super thicc?”

-“If you don’t do your homework, they are legally allowed to steal your cells”

-“Why would digging up graves be a problem we have to cover during a spa day??”

-“I would commit neck rape”

-“he looked at me and I looked at him and I was like ‘genocide’”

-“like Klaus, from Klaus”

-“SANKADANKA”

-“facism is also gender neutral”

-“I mean we all knew that the birds just wanted the body to be gone!”

JUNIOR

-“you know what they say in chemistry”

-“I got it from bed bath and behind you”

-“A two line poem. I see a frog. My heart: 💕❤️💓💗💕”

-“who needs a straw when you can suck it out the hole?”

-“I wish I could get neutered”

-“eggs are so well named”

-“You’re not a fandon? We don’t standon.”

-“If you’re horny just walk it off”

-“potatoes and molasses, there is inequality between the classes!”

-“save the tiddies”

-“I think I could explain socialism” “okay do it” *doesnt do it*

-“what part of no interruptions does Trump not get?” “The english part”

-“my knees how they crackle like rice crispies”

-“the planet is dying you fucking walnut”

-“do you think I’d be able to avoid conversion therapy?” ”no you look dumb as shit have fun at camp.”

-“the US military uses 738 billion dollars per year, and we can’t dunk the moon into the pacific ocean? Where are our priorities? Disgusting.”

-“I hope he dies on my birthday”

-“the doctor’s sewing you up and you’re like ‘harder daddy’ and they just leave you to bleed out on the floor.”

-“I don’t know what your parents do for a living” “I’d have to kill you if you found out” “oh he’s a conversion therapist?”

-“Peaning, pregnancy, protection.”

-“Being railed and math are two totally different things”

-“Aren’t all white people just german strokes?“

-“the pickles are tasty tonight, don’t you think?”

-"Gay people have feelings too! I mean those feelings aren't valid, but they have them!"

-“Grapefruit is the Wild Kratts of roblox”

-“My lungs are rejecting christianity”

-“Lettuce cereal”

-“get zooted”

-“why are they doin that to my boi Eric Snowblower???” “... do you mean Elric Stormbringer??” “Yes OMG hi futon”

-“Milk towel (sent with gentle effect)“

-“nose haemorrhoids”

-“my favourite colour is bitches”

-“THE LESBIAN FISH WHATS HER NAME”

-“You’ll have time to pull moose daddy”

-“The more you beat it the bigger it gets”

-“Were you wa today??”

-“oh uh slaves are now horses”

-“tarnsgender is a lifestyle”

-“not me misgendering my dishwasher”

-“Kiss! Kiss Kiss!”

-“its a regular human but you can open it up and take a shit inside of it” “like a kangaroo”

-“kiss kill marry, good piss boy, eric snowblower, michael”

-“if you don’t wanna strike the set, strike yourself.”

-“did you listen to waterparks in middle school or have you had sex?”

-“he said his pullout game is strong and he’s only used a condom six times” “tell him he needs the practice”

-“its a didney movie”

-“I already have a dick so I’m good with the foot sucking, thanks!”

-“I don’t misgender you cause you changed your pronouns I just misgender you cause you have pronouns”

-“made a joke and nobody laughed”

-“You’re a socialist gray shut up”

-“dont straddle my dog shes a child!”

-“chloe, kim, kendall, kourtney,,, the genders”

-“which constellation looks most like a dick”

-“I’m being intimate with my pudding. Only my pudding loves me.” “Yeah but it feels a little violated”

-“vending machine, easy bake oven, and ramen are the four food groups?”

-“mom I found your tinder”

-“doesnt this baby look like it would grow up to be hitler?”

-“anti smack”

-“I said no farting”

-“I’m at the point in this trip where I want to make out a little with every dog I see.”

-“I’m worried about your mom right now” “I’m worried about the dogs”

-“I’m going to start streaming” “awesome I’ll watch you! I’ll download Tinder”

-“jesus is coming are you clenching?” “Did you mean swallowing???”

-“Today when I said I had an image to show you and you came to look at my phone I wasn’t on Instagram yet and I was worried you were going to see that my last google search was what is a craisin”

-“My username is deep_seated_fear_of_geese”

-“Savour the flavour, uncle”

-“potential energy this, kinetic energy that, when will anyone start paying attention to the most important energy. dumb bitch energy”

-“Happy easter i guess i don’t know why the heck jesus likes eggs so much” “Jesus has an egg obsession” “And he has a bunny fursona””

-“Cause I’m kinky for color coding”

-“I’m going to name my child Brad. With a silent gh. Braghd”

-“Headcanon that Prince Philip died because he saw unsolicited feet pics“

-“I kin prince philip”

-“theres three genders: kailer, gay tyler, and regular tyler”

-“I swear to god they spent half of their budget making those titans asses so scrumptious”

-“Everything is terrible, can’t magnum dong, repressing my emotions”

-“Master has given dobby plan b. Dobby no longer needs the hanger”

-“I want someone to be just as obsessed with me as my social worker is”

-“You wanted to end the conversation so you decided to be homophobic.”

-“It is commonly thought that there are two types of people in this world, communists and pessimists.”

-“Glass half full glass half empty everyone shares the glass”

-“I thought it was about to be something sexual about slushees and I was like: 😃?“

-“Piss on, I know how to have sex.”

-“Sarah we’re making milf jokes wake up”

-“Its like im having a panic attack but I cant stop making kink jokes”

-“good old fashioned jesus?” “I said gay sex”

-“the straggot and the slurs”

-“grandpa has had way too much time without his meds”

-“You’re gonna find ur special someone bro ❤️ or someone to raw you idk what you’re into”

-“Do you wanna represent conversion therapy?”

-“Don’t punch me! I’ll get a boner”

-“I’m known to frequent elementary schools at night”

-“ever since I found out there were ants in baked beans” “WHY ARE THEY THERE? JUST BAKE THE BEANS!”

-"aaron burr shot hamilton which is kinda kinky and im not into that" "i guess he forgot to give him his safe word then huh"

-“we can’t make these jokes tomorrow people will think we’re fucking crazy” “nah man people will just think we’re FUCKING”

-“this 14 year old just looked me straight in the eyes and said drill me daddy-o”

-“they piss on you when they’re comfortable with you. Thats how it works”

-“are penguins fish or mammals?”

-“car washes are traumatising”

-“it’s okay gray has a 22 year old sugar daddy”

-“I get vored easily and yeehaw”

-“You get really stinky when jade honks for bill”

-“Jade needs a shit sleeve when she honks for bill can we go dunky now”

-“not the llama,,, the liQuid”

-“I’m allergic to jesus”

-“if you cant see stuff in your head how come you can vacuum?”

-“dont be a whore drink instead”

-“pain is temporary, existence is temporary, we’re all temporary”

-“I did not know veggie tales was religious”

-“you’re a sussy baka yes sorry now can we watch the video”

-“I assumed everyone in tech is gray”

-“skyrim wasn’t bad I just wanted fussy”

-“im not gonna get a shrodinger kink”

-“those crocs are bitchin”

-“you seem so put together” “it’s just the shoes”

-“capitalism is my sugar daddy”

-“when aang is riding someone do you think he says yip yip

-“Capitalism breeds innovation? How bout you breed this bussy”

Senior

-“Ollie: Can Jewish people eat the Lorax?

Jillian: Yeah. He is canonically a Nazi you know

Ollie: …Are you implying that nazis are kosher?

Jillian: Yeah how do you think we won the war dumbass”

-“I wanna get manhandled”

-“chryssy is SO thicc. Thats why benson loves her.”

-“are we still meeting autism?”

-“so what im hearing is you stole my prostate??”

-"Benson doesnt have a liver? What about her alcoholism problems!”

-“do [squirrels] have beaks or are they flat?”

-“ I feel like I’d fall into a pond.”

-“I didn’t come”

-“Cis piss”

-“YOU GRABBED HIS JICK?”

-“Everytime I come out as ace people send me all their ace stuff” “omg thats what I do for my italian friends”

-“I wanna be someones thyroid problem”

-“Yeah you could go to bobby about your skin cancer”

-“I feel really pregnant right now”

-“stomachs love diluted slim jims”

-“benson is a milf”

-“aj just gave birth to me” “how?” “teamwork”

-“the universe is nothing but a collection of corpses”

-“tight shaggy”

-“the moonwalking bear will come back to haunt you”

-“You forgot your jizz in the shop”

-“Please be a monster fucker”

-“Wipe the milk moustache off your face because I can’t talk to you”

-“the moonwalking bear will come back to haunt you”

-“You forgot your jizz in the shop”

-“Please be a monster fucker”

-“Wipe the milk mustache off your face because I can’t talk to you”

-“Mr. Hands is my safe-word”

Freshman pt 2

-“nah this isn’t true love this is smash or pass man”

-“the more swords the more smash”

-“virgin??? Like VIRGINIA??”

-“He’s really going ham on him”

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cattoy4ever · 2 years

Text

stupid vent about shit that you should ignore ❤️ only posting here cause nobody ever looks at my tumblr so

⋆

so i’m going to try to avoid my mother as much as possible tomorrow and the rest of this week until she forgets i exist

why? what possibly could my mother have done? what sin has she committed to make me hate her this much? well nothing really

she came into my room and sat on my bed and started talking about nothing. i wasn’t listening and was just playing on my phone waiting for her to leave. she eventually said that she wants me to do something. she said that my depression only worsens because i lock myself in my room and she wants me to come up with 1 thing i can do to help myself get better. sounds easy right? sounds simple? here’s the thing, i know i’m not gonna get better

i don’t care about getting “better” anymore. no matter what i do, i will always regress back to this stage. i could feel fine for a day, but i know it’ll always go back down. i don’t care anymore. i don’t want to spend thousands of dollars on meds and therapy and memberships to gyms. it doesn’t get better and i know that deep down. i just want my mom to turn a blind eye and pretend like i don’t exist. pretend that i’m fine and that this is just how i am until i eventually die

i’m getting more agitated and self critical and it’s just getting worse as the days go on. my meds are pointless they don’t work and i have no therapist or anything. i don’t want to talk to my friends because i’m so boring to be around and all i do is make people feel horrible. i know that’s a bold assumption i realize that but i just know deep down that i’m a terrible person. it’s not my looks that the problem it’s the very essence of ME. i only talk about myself, im mean, i talk too much when nobody wants me to and too little when they do, im dry, im embarrassing. everything i do and say i always cringe over. a lot of it is deserved too. im obsessive and still think about a relationship from well over 9 months ago and i can’t fucking get over it. my writing sucks, my art sucks, my interests suck, my personality sucks. i have literally no redeeming qualities, im not even a decent person

i know i know some people are gonna respond to me saying that with “but you are a good person blah blah blah” no i’m fucking not

you don’t know the shit i’ve done that i won’t even tell my closest friend, definitely not my family. shit im bringing to my grave, you have no fucking clue and it’s not even something to brag about it’s just pathetic

anyway, im just so tired of people feeling sorry for me. im so tired of searching for something that doesn’t exist. i genuinely believe a lot of people benefit from the kind of care i’ve received. but some people, just cant get fixed. that’s the truth of it and i’ve accepted it but i know my mom won’t. so im just gonna avoid her has much as possible until she forgets or finally stops trying

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vonnyphant · 2 years

Text

11 months post chemo

Another month, another scare. Another false alarm...

This month, I developed a red blotch / bruise on my radiated breast. I waited it out, but when it was still there after 4 weeks, I had three doctors look at it: the gynocologist (who told me to go see a specialist), the radiation specialist (who said it was not radiation damage or skin cancer and I should get a lotion for it) and my GP, who said it was most likely just a skin irritation and we should see if it goes away on its own. So waiting it is- I mostly just wanted to make sure it was not cancer. It’S not, so I’m ok.

It feels like every time I have one scare de-scared, the next one is around the corner. I’m so very, very, very tired.

Last week I heard some news about a woman I knew from kindergarden; younger than me, small kids - who had beat breastcancer a few years ago. It had come back, and she passed away only a few weeks after discovering it had returned. Stories like this shatter me for a couple of days. Aside from my heartbreak for this lovely woman and her family, I can’t help being selfish and thinking: “this is my future”. Everyone around me is celebrating my “win”. I “beat it”. Yeah. I did- but it can also just come back and then that’s it. I don’t really feel like I can talk about it with anyone beside my therapist, because it’s bringing everyone down. They want to celebrate - I want to hide in a hole. Or, you know, go see a doctor about every tiny little freckle, itch and pain.

But what more can I do but go to my check-ups, and wait? As the GP so aptly said: “No one knows these things. You can also get run over by a bus tomorrow”. Thanks, do you think that helps my anxiety much?

In other news: my hair, still doing small curls. It’s long enough to make a tiny ponytail to keep it out of my neck when the weather is warm, so that’s good, eventhough the top and sides are still too short to be tied back so it’s just a wisp of a ponytail from the back of my head. Pictures incoming...

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miamoo27 · 1 month

Text

Life has been work the past couple day. I feel directionless. I’m doing great at my job but lacking in school and I’m my “professional life.” Right now my heart isn’t in it I’m feeling connected to work and the kids making a different. I feel impatient with school like I’m waiting to be done despite mt enjoyment in learning. But the pressure feels horrific lately. I was sick for two days still feel it. Work has been disgustingly stressful due to my co worker. Being horrific with the kids. And then I have my lab mentor telling me “it’s unprofessional to have an unexpected absence without notice” ummm so sorry I was asleep and not feeling well once. It isn’t a pattern.

The pressure is fucking on and I wanna roll in a ball. I can’t help my restless ways it’s mt nature. It’s hard to be under this much and try so hard yet be fearful of telling others what I need. I overplease until I can’t do it. Now I have this dumb fucking stupid party tomorrow SORRY. That has to do with my dads family coming here. My stomach still hurts I’m getting my period and I don’t need this. I hate the voice in my head that says stop complaining stop worrying. My parents are fighting don’t blame my mom. She doesn’t want them here. I don’t really but he is my father. He knows how I feel. I’m not passive aggressive with how I feel or “fresh” I just say it. Probablt a reason some don’t like me. I care what others think but I’m also not going to “fake” it to make others comfortable. I hate doing that and I need to stop doing that. I need to just be completely honest with mt feelings. I hate putting on a mask. This morning I didn’t. Adam my conworkee noticed it immediately. Saying he noticed when she came in I was upset. Not with the kids but at here. He said he knows I care a lot. It shows. I do care a lot it’s one of mt faults. I deeply devote myself to one thing and forget about everything else. (This is a new personality character because I used to mindlessly do too many things). I forgot about school for a good two weeks. I stopped replying to emails, texts, calls. I also hate texting people consistently. I’m exhausted I have no time for me. I don’t wanna do this shit and go to appointments but sadly we live in a world where appoints exist. Weirdly I’m amazing at staying on time at work. I take care of 18 4 year olds and clean up after them feed them love them nurture them and teach them. Yet I can’t text someone back something doesn’t add up. Even my therapists texts intimidate me. Yet I can Literallt fight someone in real life. But that’s only people I don’t respect. Which unfortunely I respect all my professors.

To give myself credit I’ve dealt with a ton of shit while doing all of this. So I haven’t processed my moms addiction or really my feelings around men in general. I’m afraid to be in love. True shit. I have high standard now which makes my red flag alarm go up everytime I encounter a guy. One has a gf one has a baby one has an addiction one can’t commit and one is gay. The world is insane. I feel like Janis Joplin “one good man”. Where they at tho? It’s been a long ass day this is an insane rant and probablt makes no sense but I need to write it. Apart from all these downfalls I’m genuinely a good person I think I care about people animals pets children everyone. Yet I don’t trust men romantically. I have barely any trust in the world and I’m nervous.

How could I be two things at once.

Someone who loves the universe and nature. Believes in peace and tries to show it. Feels connected spiritually to the earth.

Someone who doesn’t trust people. Is afraid of love. Disgusted by pda.

It isn’t the world I don’t trust it’s the people and what they did scares me and I’m afraid it could happen again. I get so hooked to someone quickly. When I love i reallt love. Nick showed me that he didn’t bring me the same. He knew that so he broke my heart more by even knowing he didn’t have the same love for me. I tried to stay and make him love me but that’s the worst type of love. I needed him. To love me. It made me feel like shit for so long I couldn’t speak. He broke up with me I felt like my world fell apart. I couldn’t see the reality. He didn’t feel what I could feel he wasn’t capable of having the love I have.

I used to think those were things people tell them selves to feel better. But truthfully what is actually true. They aren’t in your life anymore so does the way they feel actually matter? You will never know how they feel because they don’t so what’s the use in figuring out. It’s been a waste of time one I needed though to get through the storm on the side of independence I went from serial dater/sex to being single for almost two years. I needed to go through nick. To see what it’s like to love someone who can’t do the same to break my heart. It did but in the end I got smarter.

0 notes

kizuguchi · 5 months

Text

School begins tomorrow, and my father is waiting to talk to me. I stand in the doorway of my room, swaying slightly from the grogginess my new medicine brings. Craning my head back into my room, my eyes meet the mirror and I feel the urge to vomit. I know that whatever he wants, it will be to benefit himself. Doctor Brooke, whose voice lives inside my head too, says to me, “Why do you assume that? That’s a little pessimistic, don’t you think? What makes you hate your father? Don’t you think that’s mean spirited?”

I slam my hands over my ears and mutter for her to shut up. I already got an earful of it last week, I don’t want any more. I can’t help but bump into the walls a bit when I trudge down the hallway, which seems to be closing in the longer I walk. My throat is also closing in— the same way it does when I’m about to cry. Which is confusing, because I feel perfectly fine when I’m around Dad.

Before I realize it, I’ve gone ahead and passed his room. He calls to me in a gruff voice, “Over here.”

I turn and look at him. I will describe my father as I see him.

Dad is a stubby, one-legged creature with a face resembling that of a Chinese dragon’s. His tail is long and forms a spiral like a chameleon’s, but it’s not a smooth spiral, no, it’s unusually crooked. Moreso like a maze. His “body” is angular yet chubby, and he has no arms under the scales as far as I can tell. On his head is a jester hat.

He hops towards me. After 52 years of being in this form, he’s grown well at moving around despite having only one leg.

“You’re going to school soon?” the forked tongue in his mouth flicks at me with every word he says; I can feel the venom slicking onto me in droplets. Putrid, poisonous breath. “Yes,” I reply. I lower myself from my tiptoes so that I can more easily meet his height.

“Are you walking home?”

At this point I realize Dad doesn’t know the school I’m enrolled in is 40 minutes from home.

“Mom’s picking me up.”

“Well, she didn’t tell me any of this!” Dad huffs, scales suddenly shifting from yellow-orange to red. “You and her are supposed to tell me things, understand?”

“Mom and I have been tired and stressed lately—“

He’s raised his voice now, “I don’t get it. Do you hate me or something? Do you just have no respect? The fuck is your problem?”

I think of my therapist while he yells at me. I think of her words, that I was pessimistic, that I needed to give Dad a chance, that I needed to work with him to get this relationship thing working. And thinking of that, I realize another thing.

No matter how hard I try to explain who I am, nobody I know will understand. Not the kids at school, or my doctors, or my mother, or my brother, or my sister, or my father, or my teachers, or my counselors. The notion doesn’t upset me, but it’s not exactly cathartic either. Just an observation backed up by evidence. “It’s a fact,” my brain says, “nobody loves me”. You’re sick, I tell her. Sicker than ever before. How can I believe a word you say?

“Pristine-pure Mary,” she mocks and briskly redirects my thoughts to the people in my life. People I love or have loved or was forced to love. At what point do you decide that maybe, if everyone you know is judging you, telling you you’re disgusting, a freak— at what point should you believe them? Do you remember how to speak, exactly?

“I hafta go..” I mutter without realizing it.

“Excuse me? I’m not done talking to you.”

Within seconds I burst into tears. I fall to my knees and slide to the ground, sitting on the cold, polished wood with my face in my hands. Now, I’m arguing with my brain, my family, and the world.

The friends I made up in my head all scream at me. They ask me questions I don’t know how to answer. Their job was to specifically not do that. Because my friends are gone, ran off to a different place away from me, I reach out for the closest person. Dad is gone too. And though I wrap my arms around myself, I still can’t say I’m hugging

anyone because if I’m alone then how

can I

be sure that

“I”

still

here

0 notes

tismemaximusprime · 10 months

Text

I’ve fallen back into my old ways and it is so bad. I thought I was okay with being by myself places but I can’t do it. I thought I was good with managing my emotions but I’m not. I just freaked out and I legitimately am sooooo lonely. 5 more days until they come home. It’s been hell being here alone. I can’t do anything. I haven’t showered or brushed my teeth. I haven’t gone outside. I haven’t done any art when all of it is piled up on the kitchen counter waiting for me. I just lay on the couch all day. I lay here and cry a lot. I’ve been crying on and off all day. I want to be better. I think to myself yeah that’d be great to start working out or better myself or do some art or listen to music. Instead I sit on the couch and feel horrible. I reach out to people and no one can help me. I just want someone to be here or come visit or anything. I have no one. The only two people who live near here are busy this weekend and I am alone from the 13-20th. This is extremely hard and difficult and I feel so bad bc I just snapped on Kit. Like I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m fucking everything up and I feel horrible. I smell disgusting right now and I just want to feel better this is horrible. I just want to do some resin art or paint but I look at it and just sigh and think “tomorrow I’ll do it”. I’ve been doing that for days now. I legitimately barely eat which is horrible. But I feel extremely bloated and fat. I feel like I’m getting fatter and disgusting. I look horrendous and so ugly and I hate myself and this is just a huge cycle. I’ve been here before and in a few days I’ll be completely fine and happy and say how I’ve gotten better and grown but I know that’s not true. I’m forcing myself to be okay. I’m forcing myself to try and stay positive and happy. I’m literally lying to everyone around me so they don’t worry about me anymore. They have worried for 28 fucking years and I just don’t wanna do it to them anymore. So I lie. I tell everyone I’m good and happy and doing extremely well. Even though I’m lying to everyone and trying to persuade myself to believe my lies. I want to be happy. Or honestly do I? Like what is even going on with me anymore. I ignore my therapy sessions. I take my meds apparently not as directed but I still take them. But like I feel like I’m trying but I guess I’m not. I’m self sabotaging and being amazing at it. I feel horrible bc I’m great at making other people feel like shit around me. I hate bringing other people down so that’s why I try to distract myself. That’s why I lie. That explosion I just texted Kit is a reason I know I will never get better fully. I never will grow and be better and feel better. I’m going to make sure I suffer my whole life and eventually bring everyone down with me. I don’t want to do that. I want to disappear and go somewhere. I was saying earlier that after I get my mri I want to go stay somewhere away from other people. But the reality is that me going somewhere else won’t help at all. It won’t help me being lonely or be comfortable by myself. I want Kit to come with me which is selfish. She needs a job and to work and be happy as well. I just don’t wanna deal with life anymore to be honest. It’s so fucking much. It’s too much. I just explode more often and have resentment for people that I wish I didn’t. I try to reach out like my therapist says to do. I talk to my sister for about 8 hours a day now. She’s the only one I talk to. But even then I feel like I’m a burden to her and bothering her. I’m bothering everyone. I’m just taking up space that someone else should have. I want kit to be happy and feel amazing and I know she feels that with me right now but down the line it’s gonna be horrible for her and I don’t wanna put her through that. I know how I get and she doesn’t and I’m scared I’m gonna fuck up her life forever. She wants to help me but what if I don’t even want to be helped anymore. Like I’m purposely not eating or drinking anymore to see if maybe I’ll whither away. I’m trying to intentionally lose weight and starve now. I’m just not doing well.

I just got told my paragraph was too long. I’m not doing well. I never was. I was forcing myself to try and believe it bc if someone says something enough they’ll eventually believe it right? That’s what I was always told. Tell yourself you’re pretty or smart. Then you’ll believe it. But I never did. That’s why I hate gratitudes and mindfulness. I know what I am. I know the monster I am and how I will never change and saying those things don’t change absolutely anything. Telling myself, lying to myself, does absolutely nothing. I’m not worthy, I’m not pretty, I’m not smart, I’m not happy, I never will be happy. I never will be happy. I don’t deserve to be happy. I deserve to just rot in the ground. I don’t want to be helped I just want to be let go. And of course I can’t say this to anyone bc they’ll lock me up or think I’m gonna kill myself. But I’m not physically doing that. I’m just not eating or making good decisions. I’m setting myself up for failure bc that’s all I am. That’s all I’ll ever be. This mri and neuro shit isn’t gonna fix anything. They’re gonna tell me again and again how it’s all in my head. How I’m fucked up and they can’t help me. When the neurologist says this who tf do I go to? My psychiatrist? Primary? None of them will help me either bc they refer me to everyone else. I’m not getting better and I never will. I never will get out of this mess in my head. I never will be able to move on or be a good stable person. I never will be able to be a great mother or wife or sister or daughter. I’ll never be any of that. I’ll always be a fuck up and nothing. I’m nothing. Never was and never will be. This is my life I need to just stop trying and get used to being a piece of shit forever. I should stop trying so hard to fix myself bc it will never happen. Ever. Idk what to do anymore. Fuck this shit and fuck me. I’m a piece of shit who deserves nothing and I’m disgusting and I shouldn’t be here or cared about or worried about. Fuck this.

0 notes

erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

how about when they first noticed ezra was a nervous and anxious baby ?

Seperation

prompt: the moment when h and yn decide that Ezra needs to see a therapist.

warnings: angst

if you like the fic - please reblog, like, comment, or come talk to me in my inbox!

I write for free so if you enjoy my fics please consider donating to support my writing on my kofi.

enjoy 😊

—

It’s late at night, like 3 in the morning, and Harry was down in Atlanta for three games with the Braves.

Easton and Cash had long adjusted to their father being away for short spurts of time - doesn’t mean they don’t miss him but they know he’ll come back to them.

Ezra was another story.

YN felt dread anytime he went away for a game because her youngest got so anxious and had trouble sleeping.

He was usually okay during the day (Harry was gone for practice and obligations during most mornings and afternoons).

It was at night time.

She really didn’t want to call and bother her husband because he had just played a game that went into three innings of overtime and had gotten a gnarly bruise on his thigh from a ball hitting him as he batted.

When they’d FaceTimed after the game, about eight, he had been so exhausted in his hotel room that his eyes were nearly closing as he spoke to her.

Now at three, three in the morning, Ezra still hasn’t went to bed because of how fussy and tearful he was - babbling about his father.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” He was whining into his mother’s neck, his hot tears rolling down his cheeks and onto her skin.

“Ezzie, baby. We have to calm down. Mama’s here and daddy is okay, he’s just working,” She murmured to him for the hundredth time that night.

YN was sat in the den with him because she didn’t want him waking up his brothers or his little sister who just begun to sleep through the night for the most part.

At one point, she did stir for a night feeding, and as YN sat on her bed - Briar latched sleepily, Ezra was nestled tightly into her other side.

When it hit three-thirty, she began to feel herself get frustrated because she couldn’t fix the situation - no matter what she did.

She knew once tears began rolling down her own cheeks that she had to call Harry.

It was never that she was worried he would be mad that she called, she just felt guilty because he had worked so hard already that day.

YN reaches for her phone, taking a deep inhale before pressing his contact for facetime.

It rings three times before it’s picked up, completely dark in his room, and he rasps out drowsily, “Wha’s going on, mama? Y’alright? The babies alright?”

“I-I can’t get him to settle,” YN takes a deep breath, the sleep deprivation making her want to just break down and sob.

“Daddy? Daddy, daddy, daddy,” Ezra just chants, eyes wide on the screen, searching for his father to just appear but all he sees is darkness.

That causes him to just start bawling his eyes out when he can’t will his father onto the phone like he wants.

“Whoa, Ezzie. Sweet boy, c’mon. Y’gotta breathe s’daddy can understand you,” Harry coos, stirring to turn on the light and illuminate his pillow-creased face.

“Daddy!” His voice is shrill, high-pitched and it makes YN’s ears ring.

“Ezra Duke,” Harry says a little more firmly, “Daddy can’t understand you when you scream, okay?”

The little boy sniffles and tries to catch his breath, leaning into where YN is rubbing soothing circles into his back.

“Miss you,” His son whimpers sadly, bringing his voice down a notch, “Come home, please.”

“I am flying’ home tomorrow, bab. Daddy will be home around noon but you have to be good for mama,” He says, voice still smooth and calm.

“Now!” Ezra screams in a way he usually never does and then continues, “Now! Now daddy! Now!”

Both parents are taking aback, Harry with wide eyes and parted lips as he watching his son through his phone and YN just squeezes her eyes shut, exhaling out of her mouth.

“Mama, breathe,” Harry directs towards her, can tell how overwhelmed she is getting from all the chaos of his screaming.

“Daddy, daddy,” Ezra blubbers, green eyes angry and anxious at the same time, “Please, home!”

YN hears noise from behind her, to see her eight year old padding into the room with his unruly curls poking every which way.

“Mama, is Ezzie okay?” Easton wonders, knuckling his eyes sleepily and then Cash follows right behind him in his dinosaur pajamas.

“Fuck, he woke up the boys,” YN informs Harry tearfully, “I just…I don’t know what to do. I can’t do anything to make him feel better.”

The older boys peek into the screen to smile at their dad and Harry gives them a tense smile, “Hi boys, I know Ez is being loud but can y’two be good f’your mama and go back to bed?”

They agree, giving their upset brother a kiss and then their mom before talking quietly to each other as they walk up the stairs.

“Daddy? Home, please! Hold me!” Ezra wails, clinging to his mother’s neck tightly enough to hurt as he tantrums.

“This is the worst it’s ever been, he’s normally stopped before I’ve had to call you,” YN groans, rocking him swiftly against her for lack of a better idea.

“Wait…” Harry sits up, scrubbing a hand over his puffy face, “Has this been happening’ every time m’away?”

“It just started two to three months ago but he’s always been able to be calmed down within an hour or so,” YN replies, shushing Ezra as he babbles over and over again daddy, daddy, daddy.

Harry’s jaw tightens and his frown settles into a deep crease, “Well why a’ve you not told me that m’baby has been cryin’ for me when I’m gone? Do y’not think that’s important?”

YN recognizes his irritation and is running on less than five hours of sleep over two days and may he’s it back with an even sharper tone.

“We can’t change that you’re gone. I’m trying to handle it, Harry.”

“Y’not doin’ a bloody good job at it!” Harry bites back in frustration, heart pounding in desperation as he hears his son cry for him.

“Daddy, daddy, come on.”

Then YN looks at him with watering, hurt eyes, “I’m doing my best. You’re not here, I can’t make you appear. I’m trying to calm him down without having to wake you up.”

And Harry shouldn’t but he’s angry and misses his babies - all of them but especially the one who needs him the most right now.

“Y’dont think I deserve to know tha’ Ezra’s been acting like this?” Harry snaps before adding, “In this situation, y’best isn’t good enough because he’s still crying and y’still haven’t been able to settle him.”

And wow, those words hit her like a ton of bricks. It was instilling all the insecurities that she had bubbling in her chest.

In this situation, y’best isn’t good enough because he’s still crying and y’still haven’t been able to settle him.

Harry automatically knows that he spoke before he thought and he let his stressed out mind say untrue hurtful things.

He part his lips about to speak before YN cuts him off.

“If you can do it so much better than me, fucking good you. Then come home and fix this because I give up,” YN laughs without humor, finger finding the red button to hang out and disconnecting.

Harry tried calling back over and over and over but YN just hangs her head, sniffling, as she watches her tired, anxious little son finally drift off to sleep.

At some point, her phone stops ringing when he’s given up and it doesn’t ring again until for another thirty minutes.

She knew he was going to keep calling until she picked up - had been that way since they first started dating.

By now, Ezra was asleep in his room and YN was sat against their headboard - having tossed the tear soaked shirt she had on off and was feeding Briar once more.

The millionth facetime request comes through and finally she swipes to answer, he’s furious right as they connect, “D’you have any idea how worried I am? Y’cant ju-“

He stops himself when he sees his baby girl pop her head from her mother’s breast with puffy lips and look at the screen, “Dadadadada.”

“Oh, hi lil’ mama,” Harry changes his tone completely, face softening - “Did I interrupt y’eatin’? S’mama being so nice and feeding you?”

Briar just smiles with a gapped baby tooth smile, a dimple pushing into her left cheek as she does so.

“Guess I’m good for one thing, right? A fucking milk-maker,” YN scoffs at her husband’s opposite tone as she guides Briar gently back down to finish her meal.

Harry frowns, “Y’know tha’s not anything near the truth and tha’ I think you’re the best mama to our babies. M’just upset.”

“You told me my best wasn’t good enough, I can’t believe you would say something like tha’ to me,” YN begins to sniffle again.

“Sweetheart, m’sorry. I ju-“

“What did you call for, Harry? It’s nearly four-thirty in the morning and I haven’t slept for nearly two days now. I want to feed her and go to sleep,” YN’s voice is disconnected and exhausted.

“To talk, I didn’t say how I was feeling correctly-“

“When you come home tomorrow you can fix everything and I’ll let you because I’m not doing a good enough job,” His wife cuts him off again.

Harry starts to feel a ball of worry form in his throat as he hears how unemotional and distance his wife sounds with him.

He had totally said the wrong things as his wife was just trying to do her best at balancing four babies while he was away.

“Please, let me apologize-“

“I would like to go to sleep. Please don’t call back,” YN responds before ending the phone call and leaving the screen dark.

They rarely ever fought. Especially like this.

He’s man enough to admit that he cries after he tries calling back (even though she said not to) and it went straight to voicemail.

He tries facetiming in the morning, at around nine right before if flight takes off - surprised when it actually was picked up.

Harry only sees YN for a brief moment before she’s propping up the camera on the kitchen table so that Easton and Cash are in view eating pancakes and Briar is in her high chair with blueberries staining her chubby cheeks.

Ezra must still be in bed.

“Hi bubbies,” Harry greets with a smile as they’re curls shake as they look up with excited smiles.

“Daddy! You comin’ home?” Cash squeaks excitedly through a mouthful of food.

“Hi dad!” Easton chimes in, waving.

Briar is only half-interested, more taken by the fact that if she squishes the berries between her fingers they turn mushy, babbles out a, “Daddadaa.”

“I’ll be home in like three hours, ‘kay” Harry informs them - his heart aches to be there right now with theme

“Ezzie cried all night,” Cash let’s his father know.

“Mama cried too,” Easton whispers, like it’s a secret that he doesn’t want her to hear, “I think she is really sad.”

Harry squeezes his eyes shut for a minute, “I know. Ezzie was sad last night. Can I talk to mama?”

Easton looks to his mother off camera as she must say something to him to repeat to Harry, “Mama said that she is busy and she’ll see you when you get home.”

He clenches his fist off camera, trying to smile but he knows it’s terse as he says, “Alright, I love you all. See y’when I get home.”

Meanwhile, YN gets all the children settled after breakfast.

Easton, Cash, and Ezra in the backyard - the two older ones digging holes for bugs and the younger playing in the sandbox.

Briar was snoozing in the cradle of YN’s elbow as she sat on a chaise - watching the kids.

She hits the number she was looking for, waiting for it to ring, and then she hears, “Hillside Pediatrics, this is Jess.”

The office knew the family well because Harry is Harry Styles and they have four children who visit there.

YN inquires about therapeutic options for him, resources, and if they had any recommendations for where to take him.

Like the super mom she is, she manages to set up an intake appointment that evening (which was a miracle on its own), call Anne and ask to watch the other children, and then take a deep breathe.

Harry steps through the back door, dressed in his usual Yankees hoodie, Nike shorts, and trainers looking tanner than before.

“Hi bubbies!” He greets, basking in when all of his children look up and squeal excitedly at the sight of their father.

Easton and Cash are the fastest, racing to cling to each legs and nuzzle into his thigh with a tight hug.

Ezra is slower, by the time he’s arrived to his father - there was no room for him to shuffle in and he automatically lets out an earth-shattering wail.

Just like before.

“Daddy! Hold me! Daddy, hold me please!” His youngest son begs desperately, stretching up his arms, and letting hot tears stream down his cheeks.

Harry tuts, reaching for him and popping him on his hip but Ezra has other ideas - scrambling until his nose is pressed into the curve of Harry’s neck with his arms wrapped tightly around him.

“Ezzie, c’mon now,” Harry titters softly, reaching down to give both of his other boys a kiss on the head before they dart back off to play.

“Daddy, miss you,” Ezra blubbers sadly, Harry wincing when his son yanks a bit in his longer curls by the nape of his neck.

“Y’okay, daddy’s got you. Relax, breathe bubba,” His father reassured him, swaying softly back and forth until he’s just sniffing.

“We have an appointment with a children’s play therapist for him later at five,” YN tells him, shushing Briar who’s squeaking from the noise.

Harry takes a deep inhale, “Okay, that sounds like a good idea. Can we talk now since y’been ignoring my calls?”

YN bristles at the attitude in his tone, “Excuse me if I’d rather not be critiqued on my skills as a mother when I am sleep-deprived and stressed out.”

He clenches his jaw, speaking lowly with firmness, “Y’bein’ absurd! I didn’t critique to you, y’blowing things out of proportion! Y’the one who didn’t tell me this was going on!”

“It didn’t get that bad until last night! I could handle it - he would just be upset for a little before bed but he’d never got that anxious before,” She justifies, returning the glare he’s giving her.

“Didn’t think y’could mentioned it to me? I have a right to know, he’s m’baby too. I could have fix this yet you were letting him suffer,” Harry bites out but know as soon as it’s out of his mouth that he wishes he could swallow the words back down.

You were letting him suffer.

YN doesn’t even argue back, just starts bawling because of how hurtful those words were and how could he even say that?

“Mama, fuck- I didn’t, I’m just-“

His wife gets up without a word, using Briar’s blanket to wipe at her wet cheeks, and vanishing through the sliding back doors.

Ezra was snoozing peacefully on him and he couldn’t leave the boys outside alone so he resorts to sitting down on one of the outdoor couches and curse internally.

He couldn’t believe he was being so cruel. He just felt so….betrayed that she hadn’t told him what had been going on and he felt like he was letting down Ezra.

It was a nasty feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach because he was away so much from his family and it was stressful for everyone.

He wanted to cry at the idea of his son crying for him every night.

Harry starts to get anxious when YN isolates herself in their bedroom with Briar for the next upcoming hours.

He knocks softly, opening the door to YN turned on her side away from him, under the covers, with Briar asleep in her bassinet asleep.

“Mama? Y’awake?” Harry murmurs cautiously with a sandwich and chips since she’d disappeared and hadn’t been down once, water in the other hand.

“Are the boys okay?” YN asks quietly, not bothering to turn over to face him.

“Yes, babies are fine. They’re watchin’ Toy Story right now, eatin’ lunch,” Harry replies, eyes falling in his beautiful little daughter.

“If the boys are fine then I don’t want you in here,” YN tells him with an angry tone but low enough that it won’t disturb Briar.

Harry nearly whimpers.

“Baby, please. We need to talk-“

“If the boys are fine, I want you to leave me alone.”

Harry hesitates by the door, feeling helpless as he slips the plate onto the dresser in case she is hungry but he doubts she’ll touch it.

“Alright, I’ll leave y’be. Call me if y’need anythin’ or help with Briar,” He offers, trying to buy time in the room.

She laughs sarcastically, “Yeah, I’ll make sure you’re notified because I can’t do a good enough job myself.”

Harry sighs, running a hand through his hair, trying to conjure up the perfect words to fix this situation but it’s interrupted.

“Daddy? Daddy? Where? Hold me!” Ezra screeches as Easton stands outside the door with him, holding his hand.

“Dad, he won’t stop,” The oldest complains with annoyance as Ezra scurries to his father and up into his arms.

“Daddy daddy,” He chants into his father’s skin with relief.

“Thank y’East, Ezzie’s been sad lately. Huh?” Harry replies, thumbing at Easton’s cheek.

The oldest shrugs, “Not always. Mama cheers him up all the time with kisses and hugs.”

Harry gazes back to the lump under the blankets and feels himself getting choked up. He really really regretted his words.

He didn’t regret being upset with her. He regrets the cheap shots he took at his wife who’s just trying to be a full time mom to his babies.

“Mama?” Ezra squeaks at the word, realizing he hasn’t seen her recently and then he’s back to tantruming, “Mama, mama, mama. Where’s mama?”

“M’right here, Ez,” YN murmurs, flipping to her other side so that her youngest could see her. His face lights up and he scurries to the bed, scampering up until his mom is tucking him under the blankets with her.

Harry’s heart aches when Ezra whimpers quietly and burrows into her warm chest with happiness that he found his mother.

“Y’got him?” Harry asks, hand raking through Easton’s curls as he leans into his father’s side.

“Can we go play now, dad?” Easton asks impatiently, tugging his father out of the room and down the staircase.

Anne shows up and the two older ones are so excited, bouncing up and down as they tug her into the backyard to show her the holes they dug with Briar popped on her hip - gnawing on her shirt collar.

YN brings Ezra down the stairs, curls tamed with a bit styling mousse and a little adias x disney outfit that was the cutest thing ever. ***

Harry reaches out to take Ezra off YN but he whines and shakes his head, clinging to his mother like it was life or death.

“No daddy! Mama!” Ezra pouts angrily, glaring at his father with protectiveness.

He puts his hands up, “Okay, okay. Y’can stay with y’mama.”

The car ride is silent, Harry doesn’t know what to say and YN isn’t giving him anything to work with. He feels like he’ll just say the wrong thing again.

When they pull up to the building and Harry puts it in park, he’s startled when his wife just starts bawling into her hands.

Harry freezes for a second with wide eyes before rumbling, “Mama, sweetheart. Please don’t cry, it breaks m’heart, darlin’.”

“I’m…I’m no-not a good mom,” YN cries, “I wanted to tell you but I was scared. I don’t want you to think I can’t handle raising our babies.”

Harry pries her hands away from her face, cupping her cheeks and firmly staring, full conviction in his voice, “If I didn’t think y’could handle four babies then I wouldn’t have put them in you. I wouldn’t talk about putting more in you.”

YN’s eyes are watering, letting Harry swipe the tears away with his thumbs as she inhales deeply, “I am so so sorry I didn’t tell you. I don’t want you to worry when you’re away.”

Harry leans forward, kissing her harshly before whispering against her lips, “I don’t give a fuck about baseball in comparison to you and the kids. I’d give it up this second if y’asked. I want to worry because you’re the love of m’life and I’m y’husband - I’m here to support you and support our family.”

He continues, “I am a bit frustrated with you. I want you to tell me everything I miss when I’m gone even if it stresses me out or upsets me. Okay? But I shouldn’t have said hurtful things. You’re the best mama on this planet and y’treat our babies the best.”

YN nods, willing herself to stop crying as their appointment starts in ten minutes as she takes steady breathes.

“I forgive you. I’m sorry I let my pride get in the way. I just…I feel like you do everything for us and the least I could do is manage the kids,” She sighs with self-deprecation.

“Mama, just because one of our bubs needs therapy doesn’t mean you’re not doing a perfect job. We’ve always know Ezzie was an anxious baby. This is going to be good for him and for us, right?” He encourages, nosing at her cheek before she offers up her lips once more for a short kiss.

“I love you,” YN tells him, running a thumb of a light dusting of stubble on his jawline.

“Love y’more than anything,” He replies instantly.

Ezra is nervous as they step into the calming, peaceful office where there are neatly organized buckets of toys and shelves of books.

Patricia was a middle-aged woman with a kind smile who welcomed them in, she observed how Ezra had himself wrapped around his dad with hesitant green eyes peeking at her.

As they sit down, Patricia says softly, “This must be Ezra?”

They all wait for a moment before the toddler turns around to look at the woman and says timidly, “m’Ezzie.”

“Hi Ezzie,” The therapist greets and he gives her a cautious smile before nuzzling back into his father’s neck.

The discuss what has been going on. How Ezra has always been very nervous, anxious, cautious in a way that none of his other siblings are.

How he struggles when one of his parents is away from him, how he can get upset if he can’t find one of his siblings, or how much he worries about things most kids his age don’t worry about.

Patricia does an excellent job in calming down the parents, assuring them that it was nothing out of the norm, and that therapy would be beneficial for him.

She states that they’ll work a lot of feelings - being able to describe and recognize them. That will be one of the most important things.

Also working on his ability to calm down and cope with stressful situations, recommending once a week which of course his parents agreed to.

By the end of the intake, Ezra had ventured to take one of the baby dolls from a bin and bring it back to his father.

“Look daddy, s’a baby,” He lisps proudly, holding it up to show him.

“Good job, bubs,” Harry laughs, leaning to kiss his forehead - watching him toddle off to find more dolls to play with.

That night, after all the kids go to bed, and YN is finishing her final feeding with Briar in her nursery before putting in her crib.

Harry runs a nice, steaming bath with lavender bubbles and a candle burning with the lights dimmed low.

When she finds him, he slowly undresses her with warm kisses and praises of how good of a wife and mother she is.

They lay in there together, YN between his legs with her head rested on his chest, as his hands massage at her tummy and hips lovingly.

And yeah, everything is okay after that.

They get up the next day and everything is back to normal except now Ezra goes to therapy once a week with his parents.

(Ezra ends up working with Patricia until he’s in about sixth grade.)

2K notes · View notes

real-jane · 2 years

Text

You Bring Me Home

[tfaws!Bucky Barnes x reader]

Based on: Sweet Creature by Harry Styles

Words: 2,880

A/N: written for @samthemarvelfan and her Scenes From a Song Challenge :) congrats on your 1k mark, Sam!!! SO exciting! Enjoy some domesticity for tfaws!Bucky and his girl. (This is legitimately one of my favorite songs--the first time I heard it, it was two am and I was fresh off a breakup. A perfect song, really.)

like what I do? buy me a coffee on ko-fi. :)

The moment he first sees her, an ache blooms in his chest like heartsickness.

First, she is a lip worried between teeth, seen through a coffee shop window. Then, she is the last blueberry muffin on a day he craves such a thing, two orders ahead of him. A latte confused for his. A door held open because his hands are full. She isn’t a person for a long time, just a spectre which bends reality around him.

Until she speaks to him.

“I’m so sorry if this is weird, but–I see you here every day. It just seems awkward not to look you in the eye and say ‘hello’ when I do. So. Hello!”

She is the sweetest creature, and his therapist warns him against comparing her to a cosmic force, but… how else is Bucky supposed to describe how it feels to have someone so kind look him in the eye? And smile? The next time he sees her, he initiates, just as he catches the door with his elbow to let her out of the shop. It gets worse, the ache, once he knows her name.

“It’s Bucky. Just to… make it less awkward.”

“Hey, Bucky. It’s Y/n. Nice to put a name to the stranger.”

“We’re friends already.”

“Are we? Well. Remind me next time I’m ahead of you in line, and I’ll grab your coffee.”

“Likewise. Y/n.”

“Same time tomorrow, Bucky?”

“I’d like that.”

And she smiles.

Bucky spends four whole minutes of that Tuesday staring down the street, long after her head disappears into the crowd, careless of the coffee drizzling from his tipped cup. She never makes it to the coffee shop before him, after that.

The house where Bucky lets his dreams blossom is built on the foundation of a routine, in which he pays for her coffee every morning (after needling the barista, and trying to convince her that he isn’t being creepy, it’s just a nice gesture he’s trying to do, and if she ever seems creeped out by it, he’ll stop, but maybe just today she, the benevolent barista, can let him in on Y/n’s order… the barista doesn’t give it to him, but she knows Y/n, because Y/n knows no strangers, so she punches in the order along with his large black coffee).

The walls are built from the thank you, which Y/n manages to say with a surprised tone, like she doesn’t catch on after a week of him tapping his toe at the hand-off counter, as she enters–her coffee already in his hand–that he’s too persistent to let her win.

The roof takes longer to fashion, from little moments of investment in his own bravery: Have a few minutes to sit? Can’t believe it’s snowing in April. I switched to decaf on weekdays. Train was late this morning; I can't wait until the construction is done.

Before he knows it… she starts feeling like home. He knows he’s in trouble when she laughs at something he didn’t even mean to be funny.

But the home of her–the heart of him–is furnished with her concern, the day he comes back after an unforeseen mission rips him from the city for two weeks. A flurry of relief collides with his chest two full blocks from the coffee shop upon his return, and it’s accompanied by “Oh my god. I kept seeing your face pop up on the news. I’m so glad you’re okay!”

Bucky freezes on the spot. What he wants to tell her at that moment is I kept thinking about you. I got through it, because the thought of never seeing you again was worse than dying. And I don’t even have your phone number.

She tucks her arm through the crook of his elbow and pulls him into their shop, and that afternoon, Bucky tells a woman he simultaneously knows better than anyone and isn’t acquainted with at all about what he really does with himself. Worst of all… she is so damned sweet.

“Are you okay, Bucky? Please, you don’t have to sugarcoat it with me.”

He shakes his head. He isn’t. And it’s hard to tell her why, because how do you really articulate the ache of a life that was mostly stolen away? He feels like a teenager sitting there, shoulder to shoulder at the table against the window. She slides her phone over to him with the top portion of a contact card already filled in:

Sweet Coffee Guy

He types in his phone number before he can let his therapist’s concerns filter in, and instead rebuilds his heartache on the realization that she thinks he’s sweet.

“When it’s all a lot? I’m a text away. Or a train ride. Or… just, whatever you need.”

Bucky just stares. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

“Maybe I got a lot I’m carryin’, doll.”

“You can text me nice things too.”

“You always been this stubborn?”

“I think that’s you, blue eyes. Unless you don’t ever wanna see me outside this coffee shop–”

“Did I say that? Don’t remember sayin’ that. Never would say anything that preposterous.”

“Okay, then.”

“Okay.”

She bites her lip, but she doesn’t break eye-contact, tilting her head. “You’re the best part of my day. It would be nice if that wasn’t limited to morning coffee.”

“Oh. Yeah?” He blushes, because she’s bold and she’s playing at the snap on the back of his glove, and because he lives here now–this hopeful place, centered around this woman he never expected. She sends him a text so he has her number, too.

Here I am. :)

Nice things.

She cackles, and Bucky’s so victorious over making her laugh that he knocks over his coffee into his own lap, and all she does is hop up and ask for a rag at the counter.

***

One year on.

She is patient with him. She has her limits. The arguing always stops before bed, and she always slips in beside him like she hasn’t been begging him not to go again, especially after last time, and pulls his head into the crook of her shoulder, and…

“I know it’s hard,” she says softly. “But… I’m worried you’re not gonna come home alive, one of these days.”

He sighs. He has no retort for that. But he turns his lips into her skin anyway, and tries to conjure any acceptable thing to placate her, for now. “You…”

“Hmm?”

Bucky closes his eyes. There’s only one thing to say, isn’t there? “I’ll talk to Sam.”

“…you’re serious?”

“You just got done tellin’ me all about it–”

“Okay, okay. Just… if you’re really gonna talk to him–”

“I’m sayin’ I will.”

“Make sure you’re giving him a reason that doesn’t come out like ‘my girlfriend is nagging me.’”

“That’s not what you’re doing?”

Her laugh makes his head bounce from her shoulder, but she kisses his temple. “Excuse me for loving–”

Bucky winces. “Don’t say that. You don’t.”

“Why won’t you let me tell you how I feel about you?”

“Doll–you’ve been cleaning up after me for a year, and I don’t want–”

“Stop. Get up.”

“What–why?”

She smacks the flat of her palm against his skin. “I wanna argue with you, but I’m not doing it in the same place you give me orgasms.”

“Sounds like foreplay to me.”

“James Barnes! Get up. Get your big head off of me.” She hops out of bed, swipes his own t-shirt from his fingers, and pulls it on… leaving Bucky to watch her stomp out the door. “Come here so I can be mad at you!” Her voice carries down the length of the apartment.

Bucky follows in his flannel sleep pants. Dreading what is to come. He finds her in the kitchen, butter knife in hand, standing watchfully in front of the toaster.

“Do you know what drives me crazy about you?”

“I’m sure you’ve got a list,” he chuckles, leaning against the counter.

“You are so comfortable being hurt,” she says softly. “You always smile a little sweeter at me when you’ve got a big gash in your eyebrow.”

“Are you regretting asking for ‘Sweet Coffee Guy’s’ number?”

She wheels around, knife pointed at him. “Don’t. I want you to close that pretty mouth and listen to me. Can you do that?” She raises an eyebrow when he doesn’t say anything, and shoves him towards the little kitchen table to sit. For just a minute she freezes, and her gaze flicks down to his bare chest. “You couldn’t put on a shirt?”

“Somebody took the one I was gonna wear,” he smirks.

“God. I’m gonna have to be serious when I can see your nipples.”

“Take yours off? Then we’ll be even–”

“Bucky!” She turns back to the toaster, only because it springs up again. She angrily spreads peanut butter on each slice and plonks the plate down in front of him. “Here.”

“...is this part of the punishment, or–”

“You turning down a snack when I can hear your stomach growling from here?”

“Jeeze, okay.” Bucky takes a bite of the aggressive toast.

“Why did you agree to any of this?” She asks gently, while she has the thought on the forefront of her mind. “Why’d you move in with me? Hell, why’d you give me your phone number?”

Bucky blinked. “Um. Because… I like being with you.”

“You do. That’s good to know. Because every time Sam calls, you run head-first into danger like you have nothing left to live for, and it’s got me feeling like I don’t matter to you.” She hikes herself up on the counter and leans back against the cabinet. “If that’s the case, shit. Tell me now, Bucky. I’m a big girl, and it will hurt like hell to hear you say it outta those lips I can’t stop kissing, but as far as I’m concerned… I’ll be okay.”

Bucky’s heart drops into his feet. “Doll… fuck.”

She nods once. “I mean… can you blame me? You have no fucking self-preservation. You don’t give two thoughts to how I’ll feel when you come home bleeding. Do you… want to come home, or are you just waiting for the right mission to take you out?”

“Baby–”

“And if that’s the case, where does that leave me?”

Bucky is on his feet and between her knees before he can even digest what she’s insinuating. “No. No–doll, God. I…I don’t know.” His hands hover on either side of her face, but he doesn’t want to touch her unless she’ll let him. She leans into the touch of vibranium, and Bucky pulls her closer so he can kiss her forehead.

“Why won’t you let yourself have good things?” The question cuts like a knife between the ribs.

“Because–” he stops, as if he actually has any number of decent reasons why he won’t just think before taking the most dangerous jobs. “You know, I… don’t use guns anymore,” he murmurs against her skin. “Or knives. In a pinch, I’ll disarm whoever is attacking me and use their weapon against ‘em, but… I don’t let myself have anything, doll.”

“Why?”

Bucky looks her in the eye, jaw clenched. “Because then I’m not him.”

She smooths the pads of her fingers along the scarred skin where metal connects with tissue. “Know what would really set you apart from him?”

Bucky sighs, prepared for her to dress him down more–make him feel even dumber than he feels now, with his heart in his feet. But she kisses the corner of his mouth.

“If you defend yourself. With tools proportional to the job at hand, instead of just your fists and prayer.”

“I’m agnostic,” he deadpans.

She wrinkles her nose. “You know what I meant.”

“You gotta understand… When we’re out there, it just feels like… the most important thing I gotta do is stop whatever is going on, and do as little harm as possible. If Sam and I both can walk onto the jet, I consider it a success.”

“Carrying a gun to protect yourself doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“I know,” he sighs.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Don’t believe me?”

She shakes her head. “Sorry.”

“No, no. I’m… I’m sorry I keep comin’ back to you all battered up.``

“I’ll clean your wounds every time, even if I hate it. Thank god you heal like a lizard. But this is your home. For as long as you want it, Bucky. And stopping me from saying that I love you does not jeopardize that, but it does hurt my feelings.”

“Humor me?” he says softly. “Why in God’s name would you?”

“Love you?” She hugs her arms around his waist and nods. “You’re always anticipating me. You pick up a new bag of my coffee the moment the beans hit the halfway mark in the jar. You drop your hoodie on my head before I even realize I’m cold. You clean up dinner while I’m cooking it so there’s no work when it’s done. Buck–you are so gentle with me that my mom still asks me how it’s possible that I found you in a coffee shop in Brooklyn, and not like… in a pet store, cuddling a litter of kittens. You are sweet to me, even when you’re grumpy. And even though I know that you’re in pain a lot of the time, you don’t take it out on me, so. Kinda easy to love you, despite what you think. Generally speaking, you don’t have a fucking leg to stand on.”

She smiles, even as Bucky’s chin drops to his chest. Her lips find his brow. “You don’t have to stop the work you’re doing, I know you’re saving the world or whatever.” He huffs a laugh. “It’s not fair for me to ask you to quit.”

“I would. If you asked.”

“You would?”

He nods. “Torres has been lookin’ to get in on more jobs, so Sam won’t be alone. I don’t know what I’ll do with myself, but. I’ll find something that doesn’t make you worry.”

“I have a bigger dream for you.”

“I’m not running for President,” he says flippantly.

She pokes him in the side. “Your talent for trying to keep this conversation from being too serious is admirable, but obnoxious.”

He shrugs, but rubs her back apologetically. “Go on.”

“I don’t care if you just play chess every day in Central Park, if you find some peace.”

Bucky can’t help but smile. “That sounds nice. I gotta set you straight about somethin’, though.”

“Okay?”

Bucky leans against the counter, bracing his hands on either side of her hips to cage her in. He kisses her cheek, and then stares at the spanse of skin on her shoulder which is exposed by the shirt collar falling to one side.

“You think I don’t think about you. On jobs.” He shakes his head slowly. “Honey… since the day I met you, the one thing that drags me back again is the thought of never seeing you again. It’s the most selfish I ever let myself get. Even that first job after we met–the one all over the news, with Sam catching that truck–I just kept seeing your face in my head. I never considered that you were thinking about me too, I own that. But. I’m glad I didn’t, in a way, because if I had thought it was possible to have someone who… loves me… waiting for me at home, I probably would’ve run the other direction the moment you first talked to me. The fact that I’m here at all is kinda a miracle, as my therapist likes to remind me.”

“I’m insidious, that way.” She presses her hand over his heart. Bucky covers her fingers, curling them into his palm.

“I know it’s been hard bein’ with me–”

“Bucky–”

“Let me get it out.” He clears his throat. “I know it’s hard. I do all those things you mentioned without really thinkin’ about it, because it’s really easy to want the pretty girl who shares a bed with me to be comfy, so. Now that I know. About the rest of it. I’m gonna try to remember that.”

“Your wellbeing affects mine. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re gonna find you some peace, handsome.” She slides her lips between his and hums, nuzzling him. “I love you, ok?”

“I, um. It might take me a while. On the… emotions side of things.”

She smiles so sweetly that the corners of her eyes crinkle. “You don’t have to say it back, but. You can show me.”

“Okay. I can do that… How, though–?”

Her head bumps against the cabinet softly as she rolls her eyes. Bucky’s hands fall to her thighs, squeezing gently. “I’m sorry–”

“Eat your toast. You can start there,” she says with an exasperated smile pulling at her dimples. “And then you’re gonna carry me down the hall, to our bed, and you’re gonna get creative.”

Bucky slides his hands up her legs to watch her eyelids flutter, grinning as her lip disappears between her teeth when his fingers curl beneath her ass. “And that’ll be enough?”

“They don’t call it ‘making love’ for nothing,” she whispers.

***

Sweet creature, sweet creature Wherever I go, you bring me home Sweet creature, sweet creature When I run out of road, you bring me home You'll bring me home

my masterlist - my bucky barnes masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fic #scenes from a song challenge #sam's song challenge #james bucky barnes #tfaws bucky

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