#he says it in mac's mom burns her house down but. seeing him say THE fixer in the script

[dennisboobs]

something about dennis calling himself "the fixer". i'm a fixer, it's what i do. the fixer always has a fix. it was a fix. i'm the fixer.

[moralesmilesanhour]

'cold turkey' except i re-wrote it

summary: exactly what the title says :) unsure what I'm referring to? check my masterlist linked in my pinned post!

A/N: Both the reader and Miles are college students here, so I guess you can imagine comic book Miles as well? But I'll be following the timeline of spiderverse so his mom's alive 🫶🏾 part one part two

“Uh-huh. Yeah. Tell him to turn the corner and I’m right there. Thank you so much, Jeff. Bye!”

You balanced your phone precariously between your shoulder and your ear as you slid the tray of uncooked mac and cheese into the now-heated oven. Shutting the oven door, you sighed and took the phone in your hand to check the time. 

Dinner was in five hours. 

The turkey was ready to be baked, but un-stuffed. The yams were uncooked, and the beans and stuffing had yet to be delivered because Jefferson Morales’ son had gotten lost on the way to your apartment. 

Though you’d lived only a couple houses down, you’d never formally met the boy. Different schools, and you were always swamped with extracurriculars anyway. His mother would give you a warm greeting sometimes after sending him off to school in the morning; you remembered her soft eyes and quick demeanor. The boy seemed to take after his father more, if you remembered correctly. He had a darker complexion and an awkward stiffness to the way he walked, as if someone had reminded him to straighten his posture.

You tapped your acrylics impatiently on the counter as you attempted to recall his name.

Milo…Michael..Milan…? Something like that. 

Whatever, you decided, He’ll tell me his name when he gets here.

As if summoned by your thoughts, the doorbell rang. You sighed in relief as you jogged over to the door.

“Y/N? I got your stuff!” a muffled voice called out from the other side.

Opening the door revealed a boy about your age - lean, and tall enough to take up nearly the entire door frame. His hair had miraculously stayed more or less the same after all these years, only now his afro had morphed into a high-top fade. 

He held several bags of groceries that hung off of both arms and grinned proudly at you, as if he hadn't arrived thirty minutes late.

“You Morales?” 

“Nah, that's my mom,” he joked, “I'm Miles.” 

You rolled your eyes and stepped aside for Miles to enter. 

“Well thank you, Miles, I really appreciate it,” you replied humorlessly, “But if you'll excuse me, I gotta get back to–”

When you reached out to take the bags, he raised them high above his head with ease like they were toys. Your head snapped up to see that his hazel eyes sparkled with mischief. 

“What are you doing?”

“I am terribly sorry, ma'am, but I cannot under any circumstances let you carry all these by yourself.”

“I'll manage,” you replied sharply. Miles raised an eyebrow, challenging you.

“You sure? ‘Cuz I smell smoke from your kitchen, and I feel like you might need the help.”

The smell in question wafted beneath your nose, and your eyes went wide.

“Shit–Fine, bring ‘em in, whatever!”

You spun around and bolted towards the kitchen with Miles following not too far behind.

Your eyes watered as soon as you entered. The oven blew smoke into your face when you opened it, but the fumes thankfully weren't black. 

Grabbing a pair of oven mitts from the counter, you carefully removed the hot tin from its fiery mouth, standing and setting it down in front of you.

The mac and cheese was a golden brown, with a few darker spots here and there. There must've been a piece of food or debris sitting in the oven that you'd missed that had burned instead.

Miles set down the bags of groceries and surveyed the kitchen, watching your stout figure scurry about, flipping switches and turning knobs.

“It's just you in here?” He asked.

“Yup,” you replied while chopping yams. “My sister was s'posed to be here to help, but she's stuck in traffic. So, here I am.”

An awkward silence settled in between you. Even without looking up, you could sense that Miles was still standing there. 

Finally, he spoke:

“You want any help with that?”

You set the knife down and turned to him with a hand on your hip, and tilted your head in amusement. 

“I dunno, Miles. Are you gonna keep standing there like a lost puppy if I say no?”

A grin spread across his face. “I'll make the stuffing!”

You returned to chopping. “Knock yourself out.”

-

After removing some of the plantains he'd bought, Miles rummaged through your fridge. There was garlic–thank God–and chili peppers. After grabbing those, he opened one of the cupboards and found a bottle of olive oil.

While he was painstakingly chopping veggies, he occasionally stole glances at you as you continued preparing the yams.

Your wide nose was scrunched in focus, occasionally pushing a stray box braid away from your face. Cute.

He accidentally caught your eye the next time he looked up, and you paused.

“What?”

Miles cleared his throat, “N-nothing.” 

He turned away and poured the chopped ingredients into a bowl and combined them with the olive oil. 

The smell floated its way over to you. Interest piqued, you peered over his shoulder and watched his nimble fingers expertly peel several ripe plantain bananas, before tossing them in with the chili and garlic. Miles rolled up one of his sleeves to mash everything together, muscles flexing beneath his brown skin with every turn. You noticed a tiny smile ghosting his lips.

“Yes?” He asked. 

Miles hadn't so much as glanced up at you. Was it possible that you'd been staring so hard that you had gotten his attention telepathically?

Startled, you fumbled for an excuse. “You’re uh, really good at cooking. I'm impressed.”

The corner of Miles’ mouth quirked up.

“Sure you are.”

After filling the turkey with the finished mofongo, Miles slid it into the oven where it joined the yams, and shut the door.

The sound of knives hitting cutting boards no longer filled the air, leaving behind yet another silence. And time to kill.

Miles shuffled over to the sink to wash his hands, the sound of only faucet water rushing even more maddening. You decided to break the silence this time.

“So, how’s college? My mom said you went to New Jersey to study.”

“It's alright,” he shrugged as he grabbed a paper towel to dry his hands off with. 

You crossed your arms and grinned. “You givin’ me the parent answer. How's it really going?”

Miles threw the paper towel away, and gave you a lopsided smile.

“Fine. School's kinda whooping my ass, and winter break can't come soon enough. You?”

“Same here,” you sighed, unfolding your arms to rest them on the counter. “Med school ain't for the weak. Labs every five minutes.”

“You gonna be a nurse?”

“Surgeon,” you corrected.

Miles let out a low whistle, making your chest swell with pride.

“What do you study? You look like a student athlete.”

“Whoah, what does that mean?” He laughed and raised an eyebrow.

“That's not what I meant!” You giggled, catching the joke.

“Relax, I know what you meant,” Miles leaned against the counter opposite you. “I'm a physics major, if you must know.”

You nodded thoughtfully. Your guess was way off.

“Never met a future physicist before. Usually it's business, or poli-sci, or something.”

Miles winked, “I'm full of surprises.”

The gesture made your face grow embarrassingly hot. You'd think that spending enough time on campus would make you less susceptible to the charms of pretty boys with high-top fades, but old habits die hard. Still, you held your ground.

“You use that line on every girl?”

“I came up with that just now, so no. Flattered that you think it's good enough for me to have used it before, though.”

Just as you were about to respond, your phone vibrated in your pocket. It was a text from your sister:

“Coming over in 15. Don't forget the beans like last time 💗💗💗”

“Oh shit,” Your hand flew over your mouth. “We forgot the beans!”

You darted over to the cupboard where Miles had said he put the cans of beans in. Unfortunately for you, they had been stacked onto the shelf that you could never reach, hence why it was usually empty.

You stood on the tips of your toes anyway and tried to stretch your arm as far as it could go. When that inevitably failed, you considered climbing on top of the counter when Miles’ voice stopped you.

“I'll get it.”

“Nope,” you grunted, “it's fine–”

“Seriously, it's my fault for puttin’ ‘em up there–”

You turned, the smell of chili peppers and faint cologne hitting you instantly as your eyes met his.

Miles had already reached over your head, and was currently holding a can of beans in his right hand. 

Up close, you could see rows of full, dense lashes that curled upwards and away from his eyes in ‘c’ shapes. Your eyes then fell a bit lower, where a tiny scar ran across his left cheek that made you wonder about its origins. Did he fall off of his bicycle one day? Did he fight? Would it be rude to ask about it?

Meanwhile, Miles' gaze landed on your lips. They were glossy, lined with black and another dark, brown shade. He liked the shape of them. 

Before either of you could make any drastic decisions, the doorbell snapped you out of your thoughts. 

You moved from beneath the cupboard and let Miles keep the beans.

“You can cook those,” you directed as you left the kitchen. “My sister's here.”

Miles blinked and remembered where he was. “Right.”

[nanivinsmoke]

Sneaking Around.

Geto x blackF!Reader

please this is such an odd scenario but yet i sorta like it

summary ~ things that aren’t yours are so much fun to use.

warnings ~ secret sex, revenge sex, ass eating, pussy eating, cream pies, etc…

ah, the day everyone loves. be it the food or being around family, everyone loved this holiday. but, she didn’t. she loved her family like no other, but she hated her family when her sister was around. her sister would tease her and would one up her whenever she got the chance, and this holiday would not end up like that. and to top it off, her family would treat her older sister like a queen, catering to her every needs and praising her like one. and whenever y/n was around, the treated her like a maid; also making her cater to her sister’s every need.

however, that all changed when she got older and moved out. she matured and began to stick up for herself, rarely visiting her parents when her sister was in town; only seeing her on holidays. y/n was in her parent’s bedroom, checking herself out in the mirror; taking pictures, when she heard he sister’s annoying voice echo throughout the house. with the sigh and one last look at her outfit, before heading downstairs to greet her sister.

“you look like you’re about to pop! i can’t wait to meet my grandchild. y/n come greet your sister” their mother spoke, moving out the way so her pregnant sister could be in view. sucking in her breath and pushing away her emotions, she spoke “hello sister. you look beautiful.” her older sister smiled and rubbed her belly, “thank you. you look a little plump there. don’t tell me you’re pregnant too?” her parents chuckled and y/n fake smiled, but before she could say something in response, her sister’s fiancé walked into the house.

“it’s so good to see you again geto! you look as handsome as ever. it’s nice to see one of our children with someone” their mother took another jab at y/n, which resulted in an eye roll from her. “im gonna finish the food. wouldn’t want you burning it like last time” y/n faked another smile, walking away without a response. from the corner of her eye she could see geto looking at her, before she looked away.

once she entered the huge kitchen she quickly turned on their oven, warming up the meats, the mac and cheese and the yams. as she turned on the stove to heat up the collard greens, she felt a pair of hands around her waist and the smell of his cologne entered her nostrils. “geto, someone could walk in and see you—oh I’ve missed you too~” she felt his boner poking her butt and she smiled. the two have been sneaking around her sister’s back, fooling around with each other whenever she wasn’t around. they never fucked, only giving each other head, but this time y/n had something else in mind.

“you know what, let them catch us. i don’t mind, just fuck me” y/n pressed her ass against him, rotating her hips to tease his boner. she didn’t care about ruining her relationship with her sister, she hardly liked her anyway’s. in reality she really wanted to be fucked, hard, and she knew he was going to do that. geto wasted no time and hiked up her orange knit dress, revealing her plump ass to his face. her black thong was being swallowed by her cheeks and the sight made his dick harden even more. sliding the thin fabric aside, geto grabbed her hips and pushed his face in between her cheeks; slobbering down on her wet cunt, earning a moan from her lips.

to stop the moans from her lips becoming too loud, she bit her lips and continued to heat up her greens. “A shame you aren’t married yet, your cooking is amazing. One of your redeeming qualities” Her mother’s voice startled her, causing her to look from the pot and her over to the older woman standing behind the island. Her eyes widened and she tried to push Geto away, but he stayed in between her legs; not caring if they get caught. “Th-thanks m-mom…I’m going to put the cornbread in the oven, dinner should be ready soon” As she tried her best to speak to her mom, Geto swirled his tongue around her clit, sending her in a frenzy.

before y/n’s mother got the chance to ask any questions, her husband’s voice gained her attention; something about their grandbaby kicking. once the coast was clear, y/n bent down slightly and let out as moan and creamed all over his fingers and lips; which geto was happy to lick up. “stick it in, hurry up!” she begged him, no longer interested in foreplay; she wanted the real deal.

he stood up and pulled his cock through his zipper hole, his thickness standing at attention before he pushed his mushroom tip at her slick entrance. using one hand to brace her self and the other to muffle her moans. he bit his bottom lip and furrowed his brows as the sensation, she was nothing like his fiancé.

he wanted nothing to do with y/n’s sister. he only stayed with her because of their unborn child, in reality the woman he wanted was the one whom he was inside right now. “shit, you’re so tight for me ma” he had been around y/n so much he was evening picking up her vocab, some might say he was in love with her. but did she feel the same?

he was so deep into a trance that he didn’t even notice his soon to be mother-standing a few feet away from the kitchen’s island, until her voice startled him. “geto? what are you doing there? did that good for nothing y/n leave you here to finish this dinner?” her mother started to move towards the entrance, but he quickly stopped her while slowing down his strokes. “she went to the restroom for a bit, she asked me to watch the food while she was gone” his infamous smile was very convincing towards the older woman and she smiled right back at him. ‘such a handsome young man’ she thought before waving goodbye to him and heading back to her pregnant daughter.

looking back down at what he was doing, his dick got harder at the sight of her fat ass smothering his dick. “shit~! this wet ass pussy gonna get us in trouble ma’. let’s wrap this up before they catch on” geto grabbed one of her cheeks and put his other hand on her waist and proceeded to give her some long and deep strokes; which she hoped they didn’t hear.

her wetness creating friction against his pelvis was like music to his ears, which cause him to go deeper inside of her wet cunt. his tip was kissing her cervix with each stroke and y/n couldn’t take it anymore, she needed him to fill her up. “fuck geto~ cum inside me please. I want to be full of your cum!” he smirked and licked his lips, he planned on doing that from the beginning. as the two of them climaxed, y/n’s mother voice rang throughout their ears.

“oh my god! her water broke! im going to be a grandma! geto and y/n meet us at the hospital.” her voice trailed out as the door slammed behind them, which signified they all had left. when the coast was clear, he pulled out of her, his thick load pooling out of her cunt.

“go see your baby be born and when thats finished, stop by my place so we can finish what we started” she reached around and dipped her fingers into her slippery cunt, before pulling them out and licking her cream coated fingers.

who knew sneaking around would be so much fun?

[the-firebird69]

Watch "Starship - Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now (Official Music Video) [HD]" on YouTube

This looks like Tommy f and something people and he appears to be a member of the band and he is watching as with my mother-in-law was plasticized by himself and supposedly father-in-law but I think that came after I think these things already happened, and Tommy Allen was doing it but Tommy savino was helping him do it and they're too idiots but they plasticized a bunch of people are wanted it men for it. And calm down bja you're leaving anyways right. And it would seem Preston is dying from being plasticized it seems that everybody dies from it eventually unless they treat it properly and for a long time.

Zues

There was a time I was afraid to be grabbed and I still am because this it is down the street trying all the time and these other morons were going to have to come in there and kill him now so I'm sending words and I'm going to do that

Hera

I've heard enough and I've seen enough this guy is an idiot that was an idiot I don't have any balancing Acts or secrecy they're just a bunch of morons right around yelling everything out I was screaming what they used to do with when you go out there to arrest him and stuff I have to tell you they're asking for a big time those kids are bothering me like to do him all night just tell them you're dead and then said nothing but stupid things thier juvenile delinquents spoiled,rotten. You keep on saying stuff to him bjA that arrest you for he shouldn't say it to anyone and he gets all round up and you're a f****** moron.

You and your bunch Tommy f that's these idiots here ruins thousands and thousands of years of work in seconds I'm planning about it. No you went down there and you screwed around with those ships and they were sealed hermetically. But somebody went to Tommy F and found out he had girls because of his guys attached to them and they're his GF and his main squeeze they're a few of them and though it was not Dee she wasn't there at all some woman found her way in there said to hide it happens and they killed a few of them like 10 I kept stuffing them into this house and our friend looked at the side I said oh I was just talking about the ships and I bet it's the ships because someone's pissed off and we were so we did this to them these girls name that's a different ship. One of them was Mr Jefferson's s*** and that s*** was a wonderful station it was one that's in the Midwest as gone it was talking about that and you people are abandoning your duty. Completely just leaving to go do something stupid freaking moron bjA yeah you f*** off you don't tell me what to do bjA. We're going to get rid of you it is now. Hands Trump said it too the murders and father and the stuck in the wall their the ones that did it.

This video is about plasticizing and how to do it to people and how when they get out what they say how they feel and they're making fun of them it's not his mom-in-law. It's a warlock and the guys of warlock and it looks like he could be PGA and they're both saying it and then they're both in the museum. Something to get it I don't think they get it or understand it Donald Trump was there he was plasticized. Tommy Allen you are plasticized you can see you in your picture of body World's. The starkiller episode does not happen yet it does you're all dead except for our friend here whoes not you.

I have something to say here you people are despicable I don't even stupid you messed everything up but you're sitting here being heinous while I'm talking about this you do not understand the severity of your crimes. I'm going to let you know it you should have shut up now going to beat the f*** out of you torture you then going to burn you.

You do the stupid SWAT show in this airplane is out in the middle of nowhere and all their seals dry out you're f****** dead you're so God damn stupid

Mac daddy

I've had enough that's a dumbest thing I've ever heard

Daniel

So the anger that they have for you morlock is going to increase because of this. As usual Trump is making idiotic comments and threats on me it has no clue as to what his situation is has any idea but the penalty is and probably has no clue what the crime really is. In the process of trying to acquire the ships you f***** ruined the ships themselves including the clothes by attention to turn them on most likely and opening them and not closing the door properly. And not sealing it after opening it what kind of poops are you you're stupid he didn't build any of that doesn't have anything like what they had at least idiots had all that hardware and everything that's ruined are you people are dog s*** at least Trump comes with a lot of stuff that cars in storage and a clean dry place why are you all saying this everybody there needs to be an investigation. I found puke breath and it's Tommy f say that he's trying to force a majure. Who's going down there he just sealed the tunnels instead I think he's going to open the doors and crack the seal

Zues Hera

Wtf who that works for me but morons this guy Trump has been putting cars in there to store for later that is an idiot but that's what he was doing and he didn't have to thought he was going to sell them that's like a duty that he performed it is beyond what would be expected and he could have made an accident they would look like him I want some answers that doesn't make any sense all that hardware would tell that it's ruined this guy Tommy f is a f****** moron

Mac daddy

[thepremedthatwrites]

Things Have Changed

request: Can you plsss do a Peter x reader relationship where the reader is a family friend and Peter has always had a crush on her and idk ends up admitting it to her at night or something and things get very heated like smutty or whatever.

Did I decide to edit this a day early because I'm procrastinating my school work? Perhaps. But anyways, I hope you all like this fic!

warning: smut below the cut

I could feel the beginning of sweat start to drip down the side of my face as I squinted my eyes trying to see the others in the water. The sand was at the border of being too hot to stand on in bare feet, causing me to walk closer to the water where the cold ocean had cooled the ground. “C’mon (y/n)!” Lucy shouted over the sound of the waves crashing into the shore. “The water isn’t even that cold!”

This was a lie and we both knew it. The icy water brushed the tip of my toes as I held back a shudder. At least the water would help me cool off from the unforgiving sun. As I stood contemplating what to do, I felt a hand graze my back. I turned to see Peter walking by me, a grin on his face. “Too scared to run in, (y/n)?” he asked. That was enough to kick me into action as I started to follow him into the water.

“Of course not,” I replied, holding back the instinct to let out a gasp as the cold water wrapped itself around my stomach. Both of our parents stayed by the towels and umbrellas, leaving the ocean to their children as they drank and talked about whatever it is that adults talked about. The blue house that our families had rented stood tall and proud behind our parents, overlooking the beach and whatever sat beyond what reaches of the ocean we could see.

Peter and I came to a halt as we reached where Lucy and Edmund were. “Where’s Susan?” Ed asked as Peter dunked his head under the water.

“I believe she said she was taking a nap,” I replied as Peter’s head reappeared from the dark water. His blond hair was now pressed against his forehead and had become a few shades darker from the weight of the water.

“Watch out! Big wave!” Lucy just managed to shout out the words before my vision was painted white as the wave crashed down on us. I lost control of my body as I let the current drag me around like a rag doll until I felt myself crash into something solid. At first, I thought it was a rock before I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around my chest.

“Don’t worry, I got you.” I heard Peter say as my head broke the surface. I gulped in a deep breath of air, the oxygen reaching my lungs as I wiped the salt water out of my burning eyes.

“Thanks,” I managed as the taste of salt water danced down my throat.

“I think some of the water went up my nose.” I heard Edmund say while Lucy was pushing her hair that had been plastered in front of her eyes out of her face. I turned my head to look at Peter whose arms were still around me. The sudden realization of the situation finally dawned on me and I felt my face warm at the close proximity. Suddenly his arms felt like iron chains around me and I couldn’t ignore the feeling of their weight on me. Peter seemed to have also become aware of the sensation of our bodies pressed against each other as he slowly removed his arms from me.

“Sorry,” he said softly, his face now also a light shade of pink.

“Yeah, no worries,” I said quickly. I was suddenly thankful for the large wave coming our way as I turned to face it, focusing my thoughts on not being drowned by the rushing water.

“I almost drowned!” Lucy exclaimed as we all sat around the dinner table. It had been my mom’s turn to cook dinner and so she had made us all steak. I started to cut into the meat as Lucy told Susan all about our adventures in the water. Peter and I had become a bit more quiet since the incident in the ocean. I felt myself stealing glances at him every now and then. Sometimes he had already been looking at me too.

“I’m so happy you guys decided to join us here in the states.” I heard my mom say to the Pevensies’ parents. “I feel like we haven’t seen each other since we moved to America.”

“I know, it seems the kids are having a lot of fun hanging out again,” Mrs. Pevensie replied. I turned back to the conversation but could feel the burning glances Peter occasionally threw at me throughout dinner. I was thankful when dinner was over, trying to wash the dishes as quickly as possible and avoiding being near Peter as much as the confines of the kitchen allowed. The parents had disappeared, most likely to the balcony that overlooked the water to drink some more and catch up on what they had missed in the past five years. As soon as the dishes were done, I excused myself blaming my exhaustion on the sun and went to my room.

I was surprised when I woke up to a dark room. I had expected myself to be unable to sleep and instead toss and turn until the rest of the lights went out in the house. I got up from my bed, checking my phone to see it was around three in the morning. My stomach growled as I turned on my lights. It seems that pushing the food around your plate does little to actually satisfy your hunger. I paused at my mirror before leaving. I brushed out my hair and checked to see that the pajamas I wore were acceptable to be seen by the public. I wasn’t sure if I would run into Peter, he was most likely still asleep, but I wanted to play it safe. I wasn’t sure why I was so concerned about my appearance around him. When we were younger, before my family moved to America, I could have cared less about what he thought of my appearance. But then again, we had been younger then. Five years younger to be exact. We had grown since then. His shoulders had broadened and he had become taller. My body had developed curves where it used to be straight and I had finally grown into myself. We weren’t how we were back in the UK. We were older and more mature.

I shook the thoughts from my mind and opened the door to my room. I walked as quietly as I could past my parents’ room and then past all of the Pevensies’ rooms before reaching the stairs that led to the living area that held the kitchen. I opened the fridge as my stomach automatically growled at the sight of all the food. The best part of being on vacation was the fact that the fridge was always filled with leftovers from dinner. I settled on some of the mac and cheese, spooning some into a bowl before putting it into the microwave. I stood patiently as the whir of the microwave filled the silence that had settled into the room.

“What are you doing up?” I jumped at the voice before turning to see Peter standing by the entrance of the kitchen.

“I was hungry,” I said while pointing my head to the microwave. He walked over to me and I was suddenly thankful I had spent the extra time on my appearance before leaving my room. He wore only a pair of grey sweatpants. I couldn’t help myself and let my eyes wander his exposed abs. He definitely did not have those five years ago.

“I missed seeing you,” he said, causing my eyes to jump from his abs to his ocean blue eyes which I could easily drown in if I weren’t careful.

“Me too,” I replied, my voice much softer than I expected it to be. I cleared my throat before speaking again. “I missed having someone I could annoy like an older brother.” Peter’s face scrunched as he shook his head.

“Please don’t call me an older brother. That’s weird.” I raised an eyebrow at this, my heart racing. All this time I had thought he saw me as another little sister. But if that wasn’t the case, what did he see me as?

“And why is that?” I questioned. Peter’s face seemed to have reddened. I wasn’t sure if it had already been red from the sun and I just hadn’t noticed or if he was blushing. Before he could answer the microwave went off causing me to jump. Peter opened the door, taking the bowl out as steam rose from the food.

He set the bowl down on the counter before turning back to me. His eyes seemed to be studying me. I subconsciously bit my bottom lip in anticipation. I watched as his eyes followed the movement. “You’ve grown a lot since I last saw you,” he finally said.

“And so have you.”

“The thoughts I have about you…” Peter started as he walked closer to me, stopping so that we were almost pressed against each other. “They are not thoughts a brother has about his sister.” He leaned down towards my ear, his hot breath brushing the bare skin behind my ear and sending a shiver down my spine. “That is why it’s weird for you to call me an older brother.” My face must have been the color of a lobster at this point, and I was no longer afflicted with hunger. Instead, lust coursed through my veins. He paused for a moment as if in thought before pressing his lips on the same skin his breath had just caressed. I let out a soft sigh allowing my hand to grasp onto his strong bicep. My other hand had crept around to his stomach, tracing the abs I had just moments before been admiring. He moved his lips, kissing down my neck as I moved my head back to give him more access.

His hands wrapped around my waist before he lifted me into the air. I let out a gasp in surprise before my ass met the cool counter. His eyes looked me up and down, filled with lust and desire. “Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?” he asked. His hands were by my hips as his thumb traced shapes on my thighs. I found myself blushing at his words. Many people had called me beautiful before but the way he spoke it was the same way people sing praises to the gods they worship. He stepped towards me and I opened my legs for him so that he was as close as physically possible.

He stopped for a moment, his eyes meeting mine. They seemed to be saying all the things that had been left unsaid since we had reunited. You’re different. I’m different. These emotions are different. I love you. I wrapped my legs around him, forcing him closer (something I had not thought possible). His hands moved so that they were on either side of me, resting on the counter. My own hands were on his shoulders. I moved one so that it caressed his face. My mac and cheese sat patiently on the counter next to us, expecting to be eaten soon. I had a feeling the bowl would be staying there until the morning. Peter brought his face closer to mine. He paused for a moment, his eyes moving from my lips to my eyes. I gave a slight nod. Then, he kissed me.

We kissed and suddenly I understood what the authors of the romance books I used to read were writing about. He was like a drug. With each touch I needed more. With each kiss I craved just one more moment of the taste of his lips. My hands traveled to his hair as we continued to kiss. His hands wandered my back, traveling beneath the fabric of my t-shirt. I didn’t want to pull away. I wanted to stay like this for eternity. On the other hand, I wanted more. I wanted to connect us even more. I wanted him to fuck me.

I pulled back just long enough for my shirt to be discarded. Then I immediately reconnected our lips. I kissed him hungrily, as if those few seconds apart had left me famished. His hands slipped between us, holding my breasts. A small shudder went down my spine as his thumbs brushed my nipples. His hands continuously moved, as if they weren’t sure what to do with all the newly exposed skin. He squeezed my breasts before letting his hands travel down my stomach, gripping my waist harshly as we continued to kiss.

I could feel a growing wetness between my legs. The feeling of something hard being pushed against my inner thigh informed me Peter was just as turned on. He disconnected our lips, tasting my chin and then neck and then collar bone until he reached my tits. I attempted to catch my breath as his tongue flicked across my nipple. I let out a soft gasp as my back arched in pleasure. He started to suck on my tits, making sure to show great care and attention to both of them. His grip on my waist tightened and I was sure there would be a slight bruise in the morning. I couldn’t bring myself to care at the moment as that slight pain was the only thing keeping me grounded as pure pleasure pulsed throughout my body as Peter continued to kiss and suck and bite on the sensitive areas.

He stopped abruptly, standing upright and looking me directly in the eye. His erection that had been increasing in size and hardness was now protruding from his pants and pressing into the soft skin of my thigh. “When I was younger, I had always felt an attraction to you, (y/n),” he said. His voice was lower than usual and he seemed to be slightly out of breath as he spoke. “I never knew whether it was a friendly attraction or something stronger than that. But the moment I saw you for the first time in five years, I knew the feelings I felt for you...it wasn’t something most people feel. It was something so strong it took everything in me to not fall to my knees in defeat. In a happy defeat where I surrendered my heart to you.” I felt as if my heart was going to burst from my chest as I listened. “My body burns with desire for you (y/n). Please. Let me show you how you make me feel. Let me love you.”

I licked my lips, suddenly aware of how dry my mouth felt. I took a deep breath, hoping some of the fresh night air would clear my lust-clouded mind for a moment. “Yes,” I said. “Yes, yes, yes, yes. Yes a million times.” I could feel a large grin growing on my face and Peter was wearing a matching one. He grabbed my face in his hands before bringing us together for a kiss. It didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen as his hands left my face and traveled down my bare top before playing with the band of my shorts. I inched towards the edge of the counter before sliding off, our lips parting for a moment as my feet hit the ground before immediately reuniting.

He roughly pulled down my shorts and panties in one motion, letting the clothes hit the ground. I followed suit, pulling down his sweatpants and boxers. We parted for a moment, the moonlight shining through the window that sat over the sink allowing enough light so that I could see the true length of him. I had only a few moments to admire him, the thickness of his cock was sure to stretch me out deliciously, before he turned me around. I bent over the counter, the cool stone pressing against my naked skin. His hands gripped my hips to hold me in place before he pushed into me.

I let out a loud moan, causing him to put a hand over my mouth. He stayed in place, leaning over so that his mouth was next to my ear. “We have to be quiet. Unless you want both our families to see what we’re doing.” I nodded in understandance as he stood up straight again. He started by moving slowly. He pulled out halfway before pushing in all the way to the base. I felt my pussy flutter around him. He continued this slow rhythm for a while, testing out the water while stretching me out to fit him completely.

Once I felt myself start to adjust he started to go faster. I could feel the edge of the counter dig into my stomach each time my body was thrusted forward. My breasts moved in rhythm with Peter, my weight being supported by my forearms which were propped on top of the counter. His fingers dug into my hips as he fucked me. The kitchen was filled with the sound of skin slapping skin and our muffled moans as we did our best to stay quiet. The smell of sweat and sex hovered in the room. The moon acted as a spotlight for our indecent act. My vision was obstructed by my hair which was now a mess, strands of it sitting in front of my face.

“Peter, please,” I moaned quietly. I could feel myself getting closer, my legs now weaker than before as my arms were the only thing holding me up. Peter sensed this, using his hands that were on my hips to lift me up. I felt my mouth open, but no noise came out as my mind became overtaken with pleasure. I could hear Peter let out a groan as I felt myself collapse around him. I let my head fall forward as I attempted to recover from my orgasm. The pleasure started to become more bearable as Peter continued to fuck me. His thrusts were becoming more desperate. Just as I started to think he couldn’t be any rougher, he pulled out.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded. The way he spoke brought butterflies to my stomach. He spoke much more forcefully than before, his voice laced with lust as he was too concerned with his own release to speak gently to me. I obeyed, opening my mouth for him unprompted. I started moving my head for him, wanting to make him feel just as good as he made me feel. His head fell back as his hip thrusted forward. I fought back the reflex to gag as his cock buried itself deep within my throat. His hand pushed on the back of my head, keeping me in place as I felt the beginning spurt of a warm and bitter liquid shooting down my throat. I swallowed all of it greedily, wanting to have as much of Peter as I could.

As the last drop of his cum slid down my throat, he slowly pulled away. I wiped away the small dribble of drool that had fallen down my chin. I looked up at him and he looked down at me, a smile on his face. His hand ran down the side of my head before caressing my face. I slowly got up, my legs still slightly weak. “Wow,” I said, slightly out of breath. Peter let out a soft chuckle before pulling me in for a kiss. We quietly got dressed. Peter grabbed my hand, leading me to his room. Our clothes didn’t stay on for too long as they quickly found their way to his bedroom floor. The night was filled with whispers of confessions of love, hands in hair, and lips pressed on naked skin. The next morning I would wake up, afraid that it had all been a dream before I turned to see Peter’s face on the pillow next to me. Then, a smile matching Peter’s sleepy one would form on my face.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

burning house (jake “hangman” seresin)

a/n: i don’t know if anyone will read this, or even like this. this story is inspired by two different book series, romeo and juliet, bonnie and clyde, a costume the dance moms girls wore in season 7, a clip of sytycd’s old west opening number recently, rango, holes/kissin’ kate barlow, and a fleetwood mac song. it’s got so many elements of other things to create something so entirely unique. hollywood could never. my advisors would be disappointed in me, for two wildly different reasons. this story plays into almost every stereotype about the old west, ones i know as a history major to be inaccurate. but the heart wants what it wants and this is what i wanted. it’s my passion project and my sister is tired of hearing me talk about it. this may at some point get moved to just ao3, as i’m afraid it will be too dark for tumblr, but i’m posting the first part here to see how it fares. 

serious note: this story is going to contain descriptions of violence, murder, gun fights, a massive fire, sex and seduction, references of rape, and prostitution and brothels in the 1800′s. it’s a much darker take on the old western movies. one of my advisors is a scholar on the old west and he and i have discussed at length brothels and prostitution in the old west. it’s the only historically accurate part of this story. this is going to be a good story but it will be a dark one. therefore, it’s best to say that this has a Mature audience rating and I’m going to be keeping a closer eye on who interacts with it. cool? cool. 

summary: Hangman is a cowboy known around the West for the way he leaves those who cross him. He wanders into a town at sundown, weary from long travels. The sheriff’s son, Coyote, an up-and-coming cowboy in his own right, offers him respite. Carolina, one of the town’s notorious prostitutes, makes a move on Hangman, but, much to her dismay, is turned away. Hangman is warned away by Coyote, citing that Carolina will bring nothing but trouble. Hangman likes trouble, seeks it out, but he knows that Carolina is not the trouble he’s looking for. For Carolina, Hangman is exactly the trouble she has been looking for. (one more time this has a Mature audience rating I’m serious)

title comes from “burning house” by cam

folks who wanted to be tagged: @kyramaximoff​​

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist | ghost town story description/masterlist

warnings: old west/cowboy!au, fire/mentions of people dying from fire, brief description of injuries from fire, prositution and brothels, accusations of rape but nothing graphic just mentions that it happened, discussion of seducation, brief mention of nudity, Hangman earns his name for a different reason, discussion of hanging people as punishment, mentions of a gun/firing a gun but no one is harmed, sporting women and soiled doves are another word from the 1800′s used to refer to prostitutes, mature audience rating i’m serious

word count: 3,330

The dust blew around Hangman’s body as the sun set in the distance. He kept his head low to keep from the dust getting into his face, his horse moving slowly as he made his way into the town. The loud cheers from the saloon brought a certain familiarity, all saloons out in the West having the same kind of drunk, raucous laughter. His travel from the last town had been lonely and weary and he (and his horse) needed a break. Reaching the horse post outside of the post office, he slipped from the horse easily, tying her up. 

"Hey there, stranger.” A voice called. He glanced up to the sheriff’s office across the dusty road, a dark-skinned figure leaned up against the awning of the building. Hangman moved towards the stranger, removing his hat as the dusty pink of sunset turned into the purple of evening dusk. “Anything I can do for ya?”

“Well, I’d be mighty grateful for a place to sleep and somewhere to get a drink. Shadow here and I need a break.”

“I’d be happy to do that for you. Claudia down at the stables can get your horse all settled. As for the drink, I know just the place.”

“Well, thank ya.” 

“Not often we get cowboys in this part. Least I can do for you.” Hangman bowed his head gratefully.

“Name’s Hangman.” The figure pauses from where he’s moving off the steps, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ve earned quite the reputation.” Hangman cocks his head, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Well, what can I say? I know how to give those out West a warning.” Cross me and you’ll hang.

The stranger smirks back. “I’m Coyote. Earned a reputation in my own right out in these parts.” Hangman nods. He’s heard rumblings of the cowboy named Coyote, son of a Sheriff. Hadn’t realized he’d stumbled right into another cowboy’s territory. 

“Well, no worries Coyote. Won’t be here long. I’ll be gone by morning.” The man offered him a smile and a shake of his head, finally moving off the steps and grasping his shoulder. 

“None of that. Happy to have a cowboy of your caliber here. Let’s go get you a drink. Margaret?”

“Yes?” 

“Go grab Claudia from the stables will you?” A woman moved out from behind the wooden doors, taking in the sight of the two cowboys. “Get this nice  gentleman’s horse out to the stables and well-taken care of.” She nodded. 

“I’ll see to it immediately.” Coyote let go of Hangman’s shoulders as Hangman places his hat back on his head, moving down towards the loud bar at the end of the main road. The two enter and Hangman relishes in the quiet comfort the familiarity of this scene brings him. The drunk men surrounding every part of the bar, loudly fighting and laughing and singing and gambling. There’s sporting women scattered around the bar, noticeable from their dress and hair. Some are draped over the men that have chosen them, other clearly seducing the men in front of them, too drunk to really know what they’re doing. Coyote claps him on the shoulder again, shaking him. 

“It’s not much, but it’s our towns best reprieve.” Hangman’s not sure if Coyote’s referring to the prostitutes or the drinking, but he doesn’t ask as the men move towards the bar. “Two whiskey please. On me.” The bartender, a stocky man with an overgrown beard nods, pouring the drinks for them while Hangman lifts the hat off his head, placing it on the dirty countertop. Hangman takes the drink and knocks it back, welcoming the burn as the liquid slides down his throat. 

“Coyote!” A man yelled and they turn to see a group of men. The man who yelled is waving him over with his hat and Coyote claps him on the shoulder once more. 

“I’ll be right back.” He says and disappears into the crowd. Hangman catches the bartender’s eye and nods, signaling a refill. He pours the drink as a woman sidles up next to him, her arm sliding across his back. 

“Well, hey there stranger. Haven’t seen you around in these parts before.” She drawls and his eyes flicker over to her, taking her in. Her dress is a cream white, smudges of dirt and dust on it. Same for her face, which is framed by stray pieces of a messy updo and dark lipstick. The dress has leather straps at the top and he briefly entertains the thought of unclasping them from her shoulders, revealing what he could imagine to be the very nicest of breasts if her figure is anything to go by, his mouth fanning hot breath over her bare shoulders and skin. He blinks the thought away and bites his bottom lip. “You look weary, traveler. What do you say we get out of here? I could relieve some of your stress.” She whispers, moving in closer. His eyes flicker down to the darkness of her lips once more and he knows that it would be so easy to just move down and capture them with his own. 

“Sorry darling, but I’m not looking for a soiled dove like you.” He bit out, reeling himself back in. He prided himself on not falling to the seduction of prostitutes in any town. They were fine for some cowboys but prostitutes often brought trouble if you weren’t careful and for cowboys of his reputation, it was better to stay away from them entirely. Still, she was enticing, which meant she was trouble. The more seductive, the more trouble. And Hangman did not want the kind of trouble she would bring him.

The girl physically recoiled at the insult, arm dropping from his back, a dark look appearing in her eyes. Before she could retort, Coyote’s voice was whistling. 

“Carolina! You know damn well not to be hanging around the people I bring in here.” A fire alighted on the girls face as he watched on curiously. Carolina, he thought. Pretty name for a pretty girl. She’d be prettier if she cleaned herself up and stopped selling her body, he thought. 

“If I’d known he was here with you, I never would’ve approached him.” Her voice was venomous, a dark tone to match the browns of her eyes, orbs swirling with anger and an emotion he couldn’t quite place.

“Get lost Carolina, before I have you arrested.” She huffed, gathering her dress up and moving further into the bar. 

“A word of advice, if I may, Hangman.” Coyote said and Hangman nodded, encouraging the man to speak. “Stay away from Carolina. We look the other way when it comes to prostitution around these parts, what with the brothel being next door, but Carolina’s more trouble than she’s worth.” The statement sounded personal to the man and he briefly wondered why this man hated her so deeply. Still, it only confirmed what he had first perceived about the girl. His eyes flicker over his shoulder, watching the girl drape herself over another man, feeling anger stir in his chest as the man roughly and aggressively pulled her in, with little care for her comfort or well-being. Hangman turned away and knocked his whiskey back, grip tight on the glass, as he forced the girl out of his mind. 

-

He tossed in the bed, unable to get the images of the girl out of his mind. Flickers of moments that had not happened, of a desire he would never give into, played in his brain as the night passed. He finally pulled himself from the bed, electing to get out of the stuffy room above the saloon and take a walk out among the quiet town. He should be sleeping, getting well-rested for the journey to the next place, to the next adventure, but he couldn’t, not when the thought of Carolina was seared into his brain. She had clawed her way in to his brain and he could not get her out. His back burned where she had touched him and as he weaved his way through the town, the night stars twinkling down at him, he could not undo what she had done to him. He’d been approached by many girls like her, turned them down, and they had all been so easy to forget. So why wasn’t she?

The screams reached him first, and then the smell of smoke. He felt his feet taking off towards the sounds before his brain caught up to him. When he arrived at the building, he recognized it to be the brothel Coyote had pointed out to him earlier in the night, and it was up in flames. The whole thing was almost gone and there were a few late-night strollers around, stopped in morbid horror, but no one was doing anything. He grabbed the nearest man, shaking him. 

“Why’re you just standing here? Go get someone!” He shouted, noticing a figure stumbling out of the wreckage, what was left of the charred building. The flames licking the wood were slowly following her and he threw the man, racing towards the steps to pull her out. He realized upon closer inspection it was Carolina stumbling out of the building and given by the wreckage, the flames that were slowly closing in, she may have been the only survivor. Her already dirty dress was sooted with ash and she was hobbling, burns apparent, bent over with coughs from the smoke. He pulled her up into his arms and safe from the flames, feet moving in a desperate attempt to get away from the burning heat. “Hey, you’re okay.” He whispers as she coughs into his shoulder. “You’re safe. Was there anyone still in there?” She shook her head, coughing again. 

“No, no- it- it came on- so quickly, I-” He shook his head. 

“Stop talking, you’re only gonna make it worse.” He says, setting the girl down in the dust. The town is awake now as he takes in the way they gawk at his figure crouched over her body, the way Coyote is shouting at men who are trying to quell the flames. There’s not much they could do, the building in charred ruins by the time it’s put out. He’s kept his head down, eyes on Carolina, who’s sat in the dust, trembling. A gun cocks and without thinking, he reached for his own, but upon looking up, he realizes the pistol is aimed at the girl in front of him. He stands up quickly, moving in between him and the girl who’s staring at Coyote with wide, fearful eyes. “Hey, hey, what’re you doing?” 

“Get out of my way Hangman. I won’t hesitate to shoot you too.” He says darkly, eyes full of dark fury to match. 

“Now, there’s no need for that. What’s she done to warrant this kind of public execution? You said it yourself that y’all look the other way when it comes to prostitution. Can’t put her on trial for being in the building.” He says calmly, hoping Coyote will lower the gun.

“She was the only survivor.”

“So?”

“So my father was in that building. She’s the only survivor, and my father, a man she has accused of rape, a good man, is dead. She started that fire, I’m sure of it. And she deserves to die too.” Hangman looks down at the woman, who looks astounded at the charge. 

“No, please-”

“She’ll hang.” He says, looking Coyote firmly in the eyes. “She’ll hang for what she’s done. She’ll serve as a reminder and a warning.” Coyote lowers his gun, finally looking him in the eye. 

“I see where you get your name.”

“I never said it wasn’t earned.” 

Coyote nods to the man who’s looking on. “James, get her into a cell. You and Williams are tasked with watching her. She’ll hang at sunrise in two days time.” The man nods, pulling the girl roughly from the ground and she gasps. 

“No, please, I swear, I never would’ve, please-” Her sobs and pleas echo across the silent square as the town looks on. 

“Told you she was more trouble than she was worth.” Coyote murmurs and Hangman grasps his shoulder tightly. 

-

His boots sound heavy against the creaky wooden floor, the familiar colors of dusk settling into the sky, the last of sunlight flickering across the wall. Coyote’s slumped down in his chair, eyes firmly on the girl who curled in the corner or her cell, back turned from them. She doesn’t turn at the sound of him, and as he moves closer, he realizes she’s trembling. He turns from her and sets his eyes on the weary looking man. 

“Coyote, why don’t you go get yourself a drink and a hot meal? I’ll watch her.” He states and Coyote looks up at him. “Don’t want to be so exhausted you sleep through her hanging.” He jokes, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. The town was quick to blame her for the fire but he’s not so certain she did it. Still, this is not his jurisdiction and a world with one less prosititute like Carolina might be a better world. The man lets out a gruff chuckle and nods, standing up. 

“Thanks Hangman, I appreciate your kindness.” He shakes his head. 

“No worries, least I can do. I’ll watch her for the night. Get some food and some sleep.” He nods, wood creaking as he moves closer to the metal bars of her cell as Hangman settles in the rickety chair. 

“Tomorrow. You’ll pay.” He whispers. “That’s a promise.” He turns back to Hangman, nodding to the keys that are on the table. “Would you toss me those? Feel better knowing there’s no hope for escape for her. If anyone can withstand her seduction it’s you, but I’m taking no chances.” He nods, tossing the keys to the man who catches them easily. He tips his hat in gratitude and then the door of the jailhouse is shutting behind him. He hears Coyote’s footsteps fade away and he sighs, taking his hat off, setting it down on the table where the keys were. He settles back in the chair, crossing his arms, eyes on the girl who makes no movement other than he way her body trembles slightly, only noticeable to a trained eye like his. The darkness of the night settles in, the moonlight quickly replacing what had been the last of the daylight. He sighs after a good few hours. 

“Well, Carolina, I gotta tell you. You did a good number on that building.” Silence. “You wanna tell me why? Last confessions. Just between the two of us.” Silence. “Carolina, you’re not gonna get another chance.” Still silence. “Carolina, you’re going to hang tomorrow morning. In just a few hours, you know that? This town’s going to make an example of you and your kind.” She shifts, but doesn’t saying anything. “If you’ve got anything left to say at all, now’s your chance. Because in a few hours you’ll be a dead woman.” There’s silence again and he huffs out a sigh, settling back in his chair. 

“I didn’t do it.” The voice is soft, full of terror, cracking on the words, scratchy from disuse. He’d been told Carolina hadn’t said a word after the first hour of arrest, sobs and please disappearing, almost as fast as the fire within her did. She’d resigned herself to her fate. 

“What was that darling?” He taunts, leaning forward. She rolls around, face turning towards him. In the moonlight, he catches her dried tear tracks, the look of simultaneous fear and resignation in her eyes. 

“I didn’t do it.” She maintains, and he chuckles, shaking his head as he sits back in his seat. 

“You’re a very good liar, darling.” An anger alights in her face as she stands up, moving to the steel bars that separate her and him. 

“I’m not lying. I didn’t do it.” She stares at him defiantly. “Those were my friends in there. I wouldn’t have killed them.” Hangman takes in the sincerity in her eyes. “Please. You have to believe me. I wouldn’t have done it.” 

“Maybe the fire got out of control. Maybe you thought more of them would get out. Maybe they were a sacrifice you would make in order to get your revenge.”

“No.” She whispers, hands coming up to grasp the bars, head softly coming to rest on them. Hair falls down to frame her face and he resists the strange urge to reach out and brush them back. “No.” 

“This town seems to think you would.”

“This town hates me because I called out a vile man.” 

“Coyote tells me he was a good man.”

“Coyote’s blinded by love and respect for his father. They all are. We all know what he was truly like.” 

“And who's we darling?”

“Us. The workers. We knew what he was like. Our Madam had been trying to get rid of him for years, used what he did to me to make an example, but the town so deeply respects him for his work as Sheriff, they laid the blame in me. Easier to find a fault in a soiled dove than a good man.”

“And what exactly did he do to you darling?” 

“He-” Her breath catches and she looks up, the fresh tears glistening on her cheeks. “He raped me.” His vision tunnels as he takes in the way she bows her head, trying to hide her face. “I told him no, that I wasn’t working that night, that I wanted to be left alone, but he- he-” A sob escapes her throat and she lets go of the bars, moving back to collapse on to the cot. “I wanted him to pay but not at the cost of my friends. Please, you have to believe me.” He takes in the way her body is shuddering with sobs, the fear on her face, the way she had pleaded. He stands up and reaches for his gun. He cocks it and she looks up at him, eyes wide. “Hey, hey, what’re you- please-”

“When I tell you to run, you do it. Go to the stables. My horse Shadow is next to a Chestnut mare, Blossom. You grab her and get out of town. I’ll be right behind you.”

“What?”

“You do as I say, do you understand? I’m trying to save your life.” He doesn’t give the girl a chance to answer before the gun is firing off three rounds in quick succession, effectively breaking the lock on the cell. He winces at the loudness of the shots ringing out. “Run.” She slips past the swinging door, and out of the building as he kicks over the chair. He tips the lamp in the corner over. Although it hadn’t been lit, the shattered glass will do the job. He tips the table over, and moves the cot to look thrown about in a struggle. If he can make them think there was a struggle, that she’d forced him out at gunpoint, then he was buying them time, however little. Mere moments later, he was dashing to the stables, a little ways back from the jailhouse. Blossom was already untied and Carolina was sat upon her, hands on Shadow’s reigns. He grabbed them from her, already pulling himself up onto his saddle. He could hear distant shouting from the jailhouse and he looks at Carolina, a fearful look in her eyes. “I don’t care what happens, you ride. Don’t stop riding, no matter what happens.” She nods and he takes off, the girl close behind him. The sounds of hooves galloping against the road will attract attention from those living out at the edge but by the time the connection is made, they will be long gone. Hopefully. 

In search of adventure, he’d found trouble. 

In search of trouble, she’d found freedom. 

[burtonbabygirlguster]

my silly little jonathan headcanons

although he can cook and bake and whatever EXTREMELY well, because he does it for his family constantly (canon that he cooks for them) he WILL burn down the entire house if instructed to make Mac n Cheese, can’t do it to save his life

he always cheats and wins at monopoly, and after all these years, nor family or friends, not even murray himself, have found out

he is absolutely terrified of cats. like, he could snuggle with spiders and scorpions and snakes and all other common fears, but if he saw a cat just looking at him through a window, he is sprinting away, climbing on his friends or family like a damn monkey on a tree, and screaming. nobody knows 𝘸𝘩𝘺. and his family (and eventually friends when they find out) find it absolutely hilarious because whenever he glares at someone, he looks 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 like a judgy cat

he absolutely loves necklaces, and when he’s only around friends, he usually ends up having like five necklaces layered on top of each other (same)

he WANTS to paint his nails, but whenever he does, he picks at them and chips them off within hours after appliance, so he gave up on them (same, its one of my nervous habbits)

whenever he sees stuff on the ground, little tiny things, he acts like a crow and picks them up, but it’s not for him, it’s for surprise gifts for his family

he will eat straight up shredded cheese, but ONLY if it’s cheddar (me)

he has the world most neat handwriting, and is also the worlds best speller (often times family or friends will have to call him to ask, he always knows)

one time when he was in middle school, any year works, he asked if there was an east virginia (same)

to calm himself down after crying, (not for things like Will, ‘lesser’ cryings) he usually puts on the most funny songs or sex songs, for example, songs like the Recces Puffs ‘theme’ or CPR

he actually used to skateboard but one time someone pushed him and broke his arm, but he lied and told his mom he fell, so after that (between the pushing and Joyce’s worry of him falling) he didn’t do it anymore

he won’t 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 say it out loud but his life’s number one desire is to touch Steve’s hair. he wants to know it’s secrets.

is absolutely in LOVE with musicals and plays, and Will does too, so whenever he got his paycheck, he’d spend most of it on their houses payments, and put the rest off to take him, will, and joyce to a broadway play :)) he has a jar full of the money for tickets and has it labeled “Broadway Play Plan :)” he actually drew the smile on it. after El became their family he included her in the jar, and after they all saw one, whenever someone was being a little down, he’d break out in a song to cheer them up

one time he saw Steve being sad and due to habit, he started singing in front of him, realized what he’d done, a blushing mess, and apologized and explained to Steve why he had done it, and steve was laughing his 𝘢𝘴𝘴 off, so in the end it worked- Jonathan swore him to secrecy

once his hair grew out, he had argyle put a few tiny braids in it like Hiccups hair in HTTYD

and another time, while stoned out of their minds, he and argyle went and bought a bunch of those grandma hair rollers, whatever they are, and put them in at a Dairy Queen parking lot while sharing a milkshake and fries, and then wore them for the whole day afterwards, giggling the whole time

during that time, jonathan dug out his camera and took a bunch of photos, that’s what actually got him back into photography after the move

when he was in the general ending middle school/beginning high school time frame, he bought a bunch of dad joke books, and told them CONSTANTLY to Joyce and Will, and eventually Will stole all of them. everyone forgot about it until Will found them buried in his closet when they were moving out, and the whole drive was Jonathan going back through and repeating them

he’s absolutely fascinated but also deathly terrified of tornados

he likes to use the word “evaporate/evaporating/evaporated” when he’s sad

afraid of bald people, very very afraid of becoming bald

he hates it when dogs lick his face, but he feels bad if he pushes them away- so jonathan deals with it and washes his face after

one time Joyce had some friends/family over, and one had a dog, but the dog ‘rejected’ Jonathan and he stuck right behind his mom the rest of the time

every single crab he’s ever seen, or ever will see, he 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 name Sir (same)

he was actually best friends with Eddie! i think eddie would have been one grade above jonathan (until he was held back) and they hung out a bunch :)))

joyce was ecstatic he made a friend, and knew not to judge because of the way he dressed or what music he liked, or anything, though she did ask to make sure not to smoke the drugs around him

jonathan knows how to sew, because he used to fix tears in wills or even joyce’s clothes all the time, so when eddie gets a new patch, he brings it to Jonathan

jonathan actually got into metallica because of him!! (partially canon, in jonathan’s official spotify playlist, Enter Sandman by Metallica is there)

often times they would hang out at the picnic table in the woods, listening to music, talking, and sometimes jonathan sewing

often times one of them ended up having to patch up the other because of bullies

they vent to each other a lot, and have the best ways to comfort each other

after the transformers cartoon came out, there were many nights spent up till 3-4 binge watching

either eddie told jonathan, who told will abkut DND, or will told jonathan, who told eddie

but i think eddie told jonathan, who then told his brother, who then told his friends, and they all started playing!

eddie also got VERY jealous when he learned he wasn’t the one to have the first smoke with Jonathan

jonathan’s absolutely in love with skirts, but ONLY if they’re ankle long, flow-y, and layered, but not in a poofy way, like those ball gowns

whenever it’s just him or his family in the house, and he’s not going anywhere, and no one’s coming over, he throws on a skirt

he can only draw realistic, no other way. he’s been trying to draw more cartoonish/animated for YEARS, because he wants to draw comics with Will, but he can’t for the life of him. but he can draw the most accurate detailed realistic drawings 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳

collects beanie babies, and one time his dad threatened to throw them out, so he hid them in a box for a few years

he still likes to sleep with them (same)

he had a small plastic dimetrodon toy, and one time he bent down, and he accidentally shoved his knee into it, and the toy cut through and he still has the scar (based off of a me story)

absolutely loves dragons, his favorite animal, entirely obsessed (same)

his favorite holiday was (and is) halloween, but because of his dad, he’s too embarrassed to go out and have fun, but he really really really wants to actually trick or treat

i really just self projected my little stupid things onto this man

i’ll add more randomly whenever i think of them 💪

[happypopcornprincess]

The One That Got Away - Chapter Six

Summary: After assisting the new Captain America and Sargent Barnes to defeat the Flag Smashers, Joaquin Torres is on leave, visiting Sam’s family in Louisiana. He expected to make some new memories with the Wilsons and his new friend Bucky Barnes. What he did not expect, was a face from the past he was trying so desperately to forget.

But this small vacation will not be a peaceful one. New enemies are lurking in the background, and they know one thing - the only way to hit hard, is to hit home.

Pairings: Joaquin Torres x Reader

Warning: TW! MINORS DNI! Implied domestic violence, child abuse, some language

Word Count: 3.2K (approx.)

Note: In this chapter, we find out about Y/N's past. The SHIELD headquarters mentioned is based on my imagination and it is not canon. This is a work of fiction. It is not my intention to hurt anyone.

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Tuscany, 2017

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Joaquin said as he stopped his pick-up in front of your apartment building.    “Not if I see you first” You kissed him and got out of the car. You waved at him and walked inside as he left. You had a good day at school. Your counselor was more than happy to refer you to the colleges you chose for your application. Prom was nearby. You were doing good in school, 91% on your mock test today. You spent the rest of your afternoon studying with Joaquin in the library for the finals and then had a coffee date.

You were smiling to yourself as you entered your home. You finally dared to get out in the world and live your life by your own rules-

The cigarette smell hit you before she said anything. "What took you so long?" Your mother asked standing in the kitchen. A familiar shiver ran down your spine. You closed your eyes, trying to gather yourself. You turn to look at her in the kitchen, cigarette between her fingers as she put yesterday’s leftover mac and cheese in the microwave. She just woke up.

“Just stayed back to study for finals at the library.” You reply. “With?” she asked, turning towards you.    “Some classmates.” You speak. That got her attention. She let go of the mac and cheese bowl on the counter and walked towards you, which made you cower. You step back on your own accord as she stood a few feet away in front of you. “How did you come back here?” she asked.

“Torres had some work at the hardware store, so I asked him to drop me.” You say without blinking. It was half true. You never had to ask him to drop you. He always picked you up and left you at your house. Because you never told the truth about your relationship with Joaquin to her, you knew what would be the result.

“Y/N, do you remember what happened the last time you lied to me?” she says with a straight face. It sent shivers down your spine. Of course, you did. You had to wear full-sleeved shirts for a week even in the scorching heat. “Where. Were. You.” She asked again, taking a step closer with each word. Stepping backward, you reply to her, "I was studying for the finals... in the school library." With some of my classmates.” You say, your voice quivering a bit.

“And was your boyfriend there?”

No, this can’t be happening!

You were careful, never slipping anything, always storing your photos with him in a hidden folder. You tried to calm yourself but couldn’t stop your heart from beating out of your chest.

You keep looking her in the eyes, you’re not letting her win this time, “I don’t have a boyfriend mom” you somehow manage to blurt out without pausing. And it worked.

Or so you thought.

“I’ve seen the way you look at him Y/N,” she says with a smirk. She twirls her cigarette between her fingers, without losing eye contact. “He seems like a nice lad. He will get hurt though”, she says, “Because he chose YOU!” she screams out.

You were used to the screaming part, but it always managed to catch you off guard. You close your eyes and flinch back, your entire life flashing before your eyes. The burning sensation on your skin after your mother has thrashed you around the house every time she hits you.

You stand there, unmoving, ready for the pain. But it never does. You slowly open your eyes to see her standing in front of you. Smiling.

“Now, I’m hungry, the Mac and Cheese won’t heat itself.” She turns to enter the kitchen, “Your father will be home soon, time to change out of that hideous outfit and wear something decent.” She pointed at your jeans and floral top. She sets the timer on the microwave and takes a long drag of the cigarette.

You stumble into your room, shutting the door. There was no lock, your parents took it out when you moved here. You still didn’t understand why they hated you. Your mother, more than your father. They were nothing like the ‘Picture-Perfect’ family they pretended to be. You did everything in your power to make them like you. Top in the class, participating in every fucking competition one could think of at school, and even learning how to play the flute on your own. Although you stopped doing so because they refused to buy you a new one after ‘accidentally’ leaving it at your old house. No matter what you did, they managed to single out one wrong thing about it and scold you mercilessly

You couldn’t leave the house without informing them, your curfew was at six, and they would look through your phone at any given time about anything. Gallery, Apps, social media, everything.

Zoe thought you were kidding when you told her you weren’t on Instagram back in sophomore year. You were paranoid about installing the app on your phone, so you used Joaquin's phone or your school computer.

Oh, Joaquin. You couldn’t imagine him getting hurt. He was so kind, so gentle with you. You didn’t have the heart to tell him what your parents did to you, or what they were capable of doing once they found out you were dating. You knew he suspected something was off but never asked you about it. Unlike them, he never cut you off when you would talk. He never forced you to do better, clearly knowing the fact you were doing your best, and he somehow always knew if you were uncomfortable or scared. Unlike your time with your parents, you felt happy with him, you felt safe. You felt... loved.

You've wanted to say that for a long time. Although it’s been almost a year since you started dating, you never said the L-word to each other. You wanted to tell him that, you wanted to tell him everything about you. But, can you?

Sharon’s Safe House, Alaska

Joaquin was bored. It has been a day and a half since they entered the safe house and he was running out of ideas to pass the time.

After calling Sam informing him about them reaching safely, he tried to watch a movie on the large TV in the living area but closed it halfway. Partly because it was a horror movie, and partly because he’s seen it already. Then he poked around the fireplace but soon got bored.

“I’m bored” he groaned out. They left all of their electrical devices with Sam, including his phone which contained his playlist. He was currently lying on the couch looking at the ceiling, which he realized was the same shade of grey as an F-15 Eagle.

“Should have bought a book,” she replied. That’s when he realized she was sitting on the sofa perpendicular to his, still not finished with your book. “Can’t you let me read one of yours?” he lifts his head, looking at her. “Of course. "I have Dune." She glanced up from her book and smirked. “Ugh.” He slumps back on the sofa. Despite his love for fantasy and sci-fi novels, he just couldn’t read Dune. Gave up as soon as the ‘Space Witches’ were introduced. He was sure they were called something else but he couldn’t remember. Despite knowing that, she still bought it. “Can’t you give me Wuthering Heights?” He whined, still looking at the ceiling. “I’m not finished yet,” she replies, without looking away from her book. “Okay, how many times would you read the same book? This is your, what? 18th time reading it?” “20th, read it all the time when I moved to Delacroix,” she said.

He got up and walked towards her, standing next to her sofa. She was wearing another pair of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, her feet bare. “Care to wear some socks? Believe me, you don’t want to catch a cold in this weather" he said. She closed her book and looked at him. "I'm not cold," she says looking just below his eyes. He huffs out a breath. There was no point in telling you that again because he knew how stubborn she could be. But then, he saw her visibly shiver. “You didn’t bring socks, did you?” he asked again.

She narrowed her eyes at him. She didn’t. “For god’s sake Y/N!” he muttered under his breath as he headed to the closet and bought her a fresh pair of woolen socks from his bag. “Take it.” He hands her the socks. She opened her mouth to say something but he cut her off. “No, I saw you shivering. Wear them. You’ll catch a fever.” She put them on. “Happy?” she huffs out. He gives her a sarcastic smile, which she returned.

Joaquin’s heart skips a beat. Her nose scrunches a bit, the left side of her lips rises higher than her right side. He’s seen it up close, so close that he could feel the heat radiating off of her body every time she smiled after kissing him. He pushed those thoughts away, “Let’s do something.” He blurts out. “Like what?” she asks in a puzzled tone. “How about exploring this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of living in a safe house loaded with stark tech?" he spread his arms around to point around him. “You’re literally an Avenger. And you sound like a camp counselor” She deadpanned. “Yeah, and you are not. Aren’t you a bit curious about this place? you were the one who asked me about the cloaking tech.” he asked, trying not to take her bait into a dissing match. “Come on!” he says again after she doesn’t reply. “Okay, fine!” she slams her book on the coffee table and gets up. “Great! Let’s start with the kitchen” he said while walking towards it. She followed.

She told him about the shit ton of coffee stocked in one of them while making coffee in the morning. And they found rations stocked up in the kitchen, enough for them to survive for at least three months.

He convinced her that the house had a secret basement or something. So, they spent the rest of the day searching the nooks and crooks for a secret button or a lever, but that was just wishful thinking.

Instead, he found some things way cooler.

The countertop was actually a storage unit, filled with weapons and ammunition. You had to press a button on the side to open it. He put it back and didn’t tell her where the button was, just in case she ended up murdering him here.

The four stairs inside the house that led to the bedroom, were drawers. She opened them to see them filled with records, cassettes, and a Walkman. Was it Sharon’s or Tony’s collection? Guess he’d never know?

But he soon found out. In those drawers, he found an old photograph inside an AC/DC album cover. It was of a young boy holding hands with a woman. They had the same hair color. His head was a mess as he was grinning widely at the camera, and the woman was pointing at it with a slender smile. Realization hit him that it was Tony Stark with his mother, and the photograph was old, folded, and worn around the edges. He smiled. Because there was a similar picture of him with his mother, with the same creases and folds, tucked in his wallet since the day she passed. He folded the old photo as it was and kept it inside the album. She sat next to him watching the events unfold. But didn’t say anything. He then looked out the window to see it was getting dark. The digital clock on the control panel showed the time - 6:30.

His stomach growled in hunger, and he realized he hadn’t eaten anything since the coffee with her. You stacked the contents back in the drawers, except the Walkman. At least listening to 90s songs would be better than doing nothing.

He headed to the kitchen and asked, "Are you hungry?"    "Yes!" she shouts out from the other side of the room. She walked in a second later, tying her hair up. “What are we making?” she asked, leaning back on the countertop. Joaquin looked around the rations and his eyes landed on a big bag of kidney beans. And he got an idea.    “Rice and Kidney beans gravy.” He spoke.    “Cool!” she opened the rice bag and started pouring it into a bowl.    “No! You have to measure it first.” He moved quickly to hold the bag before she could pour more.    “Sorry” she replied. He smiles and hands her a glass from nearby, "Two measures of water with one glass of rice." He says and hands her the glass. She takes it and measures the correct amount of rice and pours it into the container.

---------

It took both of your combined efforts to make a simple kidney beans gravy. Firstly, you didn’t have fresh vegetables, so you had to rely on spices and water. And secondly, neither of you was good at cooking. After an hour of arguing about what to put first and then, you were ready with your dinner. The rice was a bit overcooked, and you completely forgot to put salt in the gravy, but it was delicious.

“What about Kelly Rivers?” You asked him as you scooped up a spoon of gravy from your plate.    “You would be shocked to know; she got into Hawaii University, English Honours.” He said while sitting in front of you.    “What?” you gasped. Joaquin laughed in response.    “She hated English.” Your voice rose an octave. “No, she just hates Shakespeare. She loves Austen. I don't understand how that works but I'm glad for her” He said as he drank some water from his glass.    “How do you know that?”    “We chat sometimes, we were friends you know before she lived through her ‘Regina George’ phase.” He air quoted the name like that wasn’t obvious.    “Well, I’m glad she found her path.” Saying so you scooped up another spoonful of gravy.

Your mind drifted off to a memory you often looked back on, three people sitting around an old wooden table. The woman, overjoyed, telling you about her grandson climbing on a tree while being chased by a cat. And him, hiding his face in your shoulder as you laughed along with her. The kindest lady you ever met, who insisted on you calling her Abuela. Simpler times, happier days.

“How’s Abuela?” you ask. Not having the courage to look at him while doing so. When you left Tuscany, He wasn’t the only one who got hurt.    “She’s doing well, still thinks I don’t eat enough.” He let out a laugh, “She’s living alone, but Delilah and the others look after her.”

Delilah was your school nurse and Joaquin’s neighbor. She lived with her husband and son right next to his house. Her husband got blipped and the last you heard she was ready to leave town.

“Delilah still lives there?” you ask him. You finally glance at him. He wasn’t looking at you, burying his face in his food.    “Yeah, she wanted to leave but eventually stayed. She’s been looking after Abuela since I left. Haven’t visited in a while.” He stood up and took his plate to the sink. You tried to eat a bit faster, having only a bit left on your plate.    “You know, her husband came back.” He says after a while. He looked over his shoulder at you as you stilled. He came back, Half of the world came back, everyone came back, everyone except-

“I’ll do the dishes.” You suddenly got up. You picked up your plate and walked to the sink to get to the dishwashing liquid. "It's alright, I'll do it." he stepped in and your hand brushed against his. You both stopped and looked at each other. His hand lingered against yours for a second as he retreated. "Go to bed y/n, I got this," he says.

You go to bed, sliding into the covers and shifting to a corner. He came back after a few minutes and walked to the metal fireplace in your room. The room was filled with a warm yellow light as you felt your mattress shift. He let out an exhale and the room fell into silence. It was easy to drift to sleep with the noise of crackling firewood.

S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters, Washington DC

“It was someone from the inside,” Bucky said as he slapped yet another file on the table. They were at the brand-new S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters built on the outskirts of the city. After the discovery of HYDRA infiltration of their organization came out, and the destruction of their old base in 2014, the government refused to have their headquarters anywhere in the city. So, they made it just outside, 70% of it underground.

Bucky and Sam had arrived shortly after Y/N and Joaquin left for Alaska. They needed to find the Flag Smashers, and headquarters had the resources to do so.

“I don’t understand, why her?” said Sharon, rising from her chair. She had joined their case as soon as she knew there were Flag Smashers involved. All three of them have been hunched over a table since the last hour, with files and documents spread on it, trying to figure out what they want.    “I mean, the only reason she got involved was because of her relationship with Joaquin.” Sam said, “who, by the way, had minimal involvement with their downfall after he got attacked in Germany. Nobody knew about it except me, the guy who punched him thought he was just another cop. Why target them?"    “I’m telling you it was someone on the inside, who gave her location,” Bucky said opening her file.    “I think she wasn’t their initial target,” Sharon said.    “What do you mean?” Sam asked her.

Sharon walked to the board filled with maps and photos related to the case. In a corner, was a section with all the information about Y/N.    “She has no criminal history. Top of her class graduated from Michigan Nursing School and is the best nurse in their hospital. No accidents or complaints in two years of her job. This isn’t personal.” She turned back to them, “You told me all three of them just came into her building. If this had been planned, they wouldn't have entered inside together. There would have been a lookout. This wasn’t intended."    “Of course, it wasn’t planned. They are all idiots,” Bucky remarked. Sam gave him a look and continued, “The men said they were given a location and time and were told to bring her to another location which would be given to them after they caught her.”    “Someone else is involved, and we haven’t caught them yet,” Sharon said as she picked up a pen and started clicking it.    “So, if their initial target wasn’t Joaquin or Y/N, who was it?” Bucky asked again.

“Wilson and his family.”

All three of them turned towards the door. Leaning on the doorframe looking serious for, maybe the first time in his life, stood John Walker.    “Good grief” Bucky muttered under his breath.    “What?” Sam walked towards him. “What do you mean?"    “It’s you they want Wilson, the new Captain America who killed Karli Morgenthau, their savior.” He said the last words in a sing-song voice.    “He didn’t kill her; I did." Sharon approached him.    "Hate to break it to you, Miss Carter, they believe otherwise,” he said.    “They have the same agenda that they had before, kill Captain America to prove a point.”    “But the bill didn’t pass, their voice was heard.” Said Bucky.    “I know, but some people don’t want peace, they want power”

--------

End of Chapter Six. Chapter Seven

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Tag List:

@tuiccim @wkemeup @samwilson-mylove @parkjammys @akinrawsx @asteph22 @iamthebeth @thefandomqueenuno @onlyhereforthefics @yikesdameron @hoennsficrecs @obrienswife @savedfanfics1992 @amigaytho

[favefandomimagines]

Now What? (t.h.)

Summary: you and tom get an evening to yourselves. what can go wrong? or right?

AN: i’m on a roll with these lol

why?

not the right time

taglist: @amourtentiaa

It was rare for Theo to stay anywhere else but at home. It was usually only when Chris was in town and wanted to see his nephew. 

This weekend happened to be one of those instances. Chris had texted you, asking if he could have Theo stay over for the night. You of course said yes because Chris was Theo’s favorite person. Though his dad was starting to replace his uncle. 

You were picking up the mess Tom and Theo had made during lunch, trying to make you a cake just because but had to stop in fear of burning the house down, when the doorbell rang. 

“Theo! Uncle Chris is here!” You called. The sound of little feet running down the hallway met your ears as you opened the front door. 

“There he is!” Chris announced, crouching down to scoop up Theo. “How have you been, little man?” He asked. “Great! Daddy told me a Spider-Man secret!”  Theo answered. 

You and Chris looked at Tom, neither one of you surprised he told the boy spoiler. “If you can’t tell your kids, who can you tell?” Tom replied bashfully. “Oh and here’s his bag.” He added, handing Chris the little backpack. 

“Are you ready to have fun with your favorite uncle?” Chris asked. “Yes!” Theo cheered. “That way, mommy and daddy can get a little alone time.” Your brother commented. 

You shot Chris a quick glare before moving to kiss Theo goodbye. “Have fun with Uncle Chris, okay? Mommy and daddy love you.” You told him. “Love you mommy, love you daddy!” Theo replied before the front door closed. 

You leaned against the door and relished in the silence for a moment. “I don’t think this house has ever been this quiet.” You commented. “Well, what do you have planned tonight?” Tom asked. “I haven’t had a night to myself in over a year. I’m going to pour myself a glass of wine and watch something that isn’t Paw Patrol or Transformers.” You answered. 

Tom was quiet for a moment as you moved to the kitchen. “Can I join you?”  He asked. “Are you sure? You haven’t had a night off in months, don’t you want to go out?” You questioned. 

“I mostly just want to spend some time with you. Just to talk and to get to know each other again.” Tom answered. 

You looked at him for a moment with wide eyes, the same way you did when he said he loved you. Tom was worried that you didn’t want that and shoot him down, until a smile formed on your face. 

“I’d like that.” You replied. If you were being honesty, you missed Tom in a way that wasn’t co-parenting. A part of you missed being with him.

You and Tom had been on the couch, four glasses of wine deep, talking about everything. No topic off limits. 

“You did such a good job with Theo, Y/N. He’s such a good kid and you’re such a good mom. I can’t believe I let you go.” Tom said. “He’s a lot like you,” You commented. “His energy, how he acts sometimes.” You added. “I love you, Y/N. I never stopped. Not because of how we left things but because I can’t picture myself with anyone but you.” He confessed. 

The alcohol had gotten to both of you by that point, giving you the courage to say the things you were too afraid to say. 

You looked down at your empty wine glass, setting it down before looking up at Tom. 

“I haven’t stopped loving you either.” You confessed. “It’s hard when you’re my baby daddy.” You joked. 

Tom didn’t say anything before he leaned forward and kissed you deeply. The wine having full control of his movements at that point. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t quickly kiss him back after the shock wore off. 

You moved to lay down on your back, as Tom hovered over you slightly. From that point, there was no turning back. 

__

You woke up. in bed, the sun streaming directly into your eyes. You groaned. at the headache that was causing your head to pound. When it came to wine, you never learned your lesson as to what it does to you. 

You went to remove your duvet when you noticed your lack of clothing. The events from the night before started to replay in your head. You looked over and saw Tom laying on his stomach, facing away from you. 

“Oh no.” You commented. “Tom,” You said, nudging him but to no avail. “Tom.” You said louder. Again no response. 

“Thomas!” You yelled, taking your pillow and hitting him with it. “What? What happened?” He asked groggily. “We had sex last night, that’s what happened.” You said. 

Tom furrowed his eyebrows before looking at you and his obviously naked torso. “Oh. Well, that wasn’t planned.” He said. You pulled the comforter closer to your chest as you leaned against the headboard. 

“Now what?” You whispered. “What do you mean?” Tom asked, rolling on his side to face you. “What do we do? I told you I never stopped loving you last night, we had sex. We can’t just go back to how it was before.” You explained calmly. 

Tom let out a soft sigh before speaking. “I don’t want things to go back to how they were.” He said. “I wanted to be with you and Theo, I was willing to do anything to make that happen. You needed time and I understand that because I hurt you. But I want to be with you for real. You’ve changed, I’ve changed, we aren’t those same 21 year olds anymore,” Tom started. 

He grabbed your hand and held it in his softly. “I love you, you love me. Let’s be together.” He finished. Tom was right. You weren’t the same kids anymore. Having a child forced you to be an adult before you felt you were ready. You could already tell Tom was different. 

Being in Theo’s life seemingly matured him. “I love you, too, Tom. And I am willing to get back together and try again.” You said. Tom looked at you with wide eyes and a smile on his face before he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you gently. 

“We have three hours before Theo comes home.” You muttered against his lips. “Then we can make up for lost time.” Tom replied, moving you on top of him. A light giggle escaped your lips before you kissed him again. 

__

A few hours later, you and Tom were up, preparing Theo’s favorite meal for when he got home. 

“Are you sure dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets, mac and cheese and chocolate milk will work?” Tom asked as he stirred what was in the pot. “Absolutely. This is what I made when I told him we were going to be going to Atlanta for a while. Works every time.” You answered. 

When all the food was done, on cue, Chris and Theo walked through the front door. 

“We’re back!” Chris announced. “There’s my favorite boy!” You greeted Theo, taking him from his uncle. “Did you have fun?” You asked. “We had sundaes!” Theo said. 

You looked at your older brother and gave him a disapproving look. “I learned my lesson. He was bouncing off the walls.” Chris said. “That’s your karma Christopher.” You commented. 

“Buddy, mommy and I have something to tell you.” Tom said. “What is it?” Theo asked. “You remember I told you that mommy and daddy were just friends?” You asked. Theo nodded his head as Chris gave Tom a curious look. “Well, daddy and me are together now. Instead of having just a mommy and just a daddy, you have both now.” You explained. 

“Uncle Chris was right!” Theo exclaimed. “What?” You questioned. “I told him you and Tom would probably be back together when I brought him home.” Chris answered. “So I can bring daddy to show and tell?” Theo asked. “If that’s okay with daddy, yes you can.” You said. 

Theo cheered and reached for his father who gladly took him in his arms. 

Chris smiled at the sight of the young family, happy that his little sister finally got her happy ending. He knew how much Tom still meant to her, especially when Theo became more and more like his father every day. As an older brother, he was unbelievably proud of you and the life you had built.

[adhdeancas]

Hey I'm being mentally ill on main again but like I just really want some kind of reunion scene between Claire and Jimmy but Claire never knew Jimmy was trans and Claire was just starting to socially transition to being a girl when Cas took Jimmy the first time so they have like. These things that change each other's perception of the other but it only makes them closer.

oh your mind your mind, how i love you

Claire visits her dad in heaven

“Dad?” The word slips out of Claire’s mouth before she can think about it, the emotion of the moment overriding her common sense. It has to be Cas. She knows what Jack said, promised, but… it can’t be. Not really.

Jimmy turns around. “Claire-bear!”

He smiles wide and opens his arms, and Claire remembers this day. The waning afternoon sun, the barbeque seasoning covering his hands up to his wrists, the pork chops laying forgotten on the counter beside him in favor of greeting her. She takes halting steps to him, not trusting it completely. His grin is unwavering; he swipes a finger across her forehead and paints it orange with spice. 

She had giggled, she remembers. That day, she had giggled and wrapped her arms around his middle and told him about her time at Sadie’s house. This time, she stands still and looks. 

“Claire?” 

Jimmy’s smile drops, just for a moment. “Hi, Dad.” She can see him realizing like he’s coming out of a dream, realizing that the girl standing in front of her is not his 8 year old. “Yeah, I’m… I’m not in your head.”

He looks around the kitchen, eyebrows furrowed. Claire looks around too, at the family home that seems like it’s from a lifetime ago, at the decorative plates that she sold on Ebay after her mom left, the favorite one she’d smashed to bits on a bad night. The pictures of the life that got ripped away from her. “Your mom’s making mac n cheese… with the pork chops,” he says quietly. “Sound good?”

Claire bites her lip. Jimmy keeps staring out the kitchen window. “Dad, look at me.” She reaches out and grabs his hand hard, crushing his knuckles under her grip. He looks at her.

“Claire, you’re-” He frowns, eyes flitting over her. She looks down self-consciously. Her ripped jeans and beaten up tank wouldn’t exactly have flown in her childhood home, let alone the tattoos climbing their way up her arm. Protective sigils and Kaia’s doodles, stick-and-pokes from Alex. And she does look a little… different from when he last saw her. Boobs, for one thing. A decade and HRT will do that for you.

“Yeah, I know. I grew up.” It comes out a little harsher than she’d intended. Jimmy flinches back out of her grasp, tearing up.

“You must hate me.”

She crosses her arms and swallows. “Yeah, I do.” She sighs. “You left me. When I was just a kid. When I had just told you-” that I was a girl. She clears her throat. “You walked out and demons waltzed right into our life. And mom- mom was just a shell. Her perfect husband? Gone. My perfect dad?” she wiped the seasoning off her forehead with a fist. “Gone. And I had to raise myself. I had to figure out how to survive… alone.” Jimmy hangs his head, tears slipping down his face. Claire steps closer and waits until he looks back up at her. “But you know what? I learned a lot. About me, about you…” She shakes her head. Cas had shown her the miniscule scars on his chest, barely visible after years of healing. Only visible because Cas let them be. “So yeah, I hate you. And I love you. And... I get it. I would’ve gone too far, too, to do the right thing.” She had a few times. “I would’ve sacrificed myself to save the people I love.” She had tried to, for months after Kaia… 

Jimmy looks down at his feet. 

“I forgive you. I forgive you for all of it. Everything.” 

Her dad blinks. He looks at her. “Claire,” he pulls her close and hugs her and this time, she lets him. She lets herself sink into her dad’s arms and feel safe, because this time it isn’t a dream. This time his eyes won’t blink black and he won’t cough up blood and she won’t feel the burn of Castiel’s grace inside her. This time it’s actually her dad, even if she’s only visiting his slice of heaven, and he actually sees her. “My beautiful daughter. Claire, I’m so sorry.”

Claire pulls away sniffing. “Let’s skip over the mushy stuff while I’m here, ‘kay?” Jimmy nods gratefully. “Wanna play Uno?”

Jack had slipped her a pack of cards before she’d gone in, and she pulls them out now. Surprisingly, they’d been a good idea. Jimmy grins. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Cool. Then you can tell me why you never told your trans daughter that you were the one who gave birth to me.”

Jimmy’s laugh comes out tinged with tears, but they’re the giddy kind, the kind that can’t believe this is happening. They sit at the table and Claire deals. “Your mom didn’t want-”

Claire waves him off. “Yeah, yeah, fine. Amelia.” she snorts and looks up, and Jimmy’s wearing the same bittersweet expression. “You start.”

Jimmy takes a moment to look at his cards, but Claire knows he’s thinking of what to say. “You look good.” he finally decides. He lays a card down. “I never got to tell you after- when I came back…” Claire presses her lips together and stares at her own hand. “The long hair suits you.”

Claire runs a hand through her hair, swearing to herself she isn’t blushing. “Yeah, my girlfriend thinks so too.” she ventures, laying down a +4 card like a challenge. “Green.”

Jimmy’s expression is an indescribable mix of happy and proud. Claire has only seen it on his face a few times, ironically mostly with Cas’s subdued version. He takes four cards like it’s nothing. “Well, she has good taste.”

Claire’s mouth twists into a grin. “Yeah. I’m lucky to have her. Lucky to have everybody I’ve got.”

“I’m… I’m so glad, Claire.”

His voice has turned strained. She squints at him. “That includes you, dumba-” He raises an eyebrow and she stops. “Dad.” 

Jimmy reaches across and grabs her hand. “Claire-”

“I’ve kinda got an in with God now, so, you’re probably gonna be playing Uno a lot more,” she says casually, taking her hand away so she can keep playing. She doesn’t look up at him.

“I like Uno.”

“Good.” She lays down another +4. “Yellow.”

[mothandpidgeon]

THE SINS OF THE FATHER - a Molly York story PART 2

(gif by @pajamasecrets)

PROLOGUE - PART 1

MASTERLIST

Characters: Dave York, Molly York (Carol and Alice, too)

Words: 3500

Rating: T

Warnings: character death (canon), loss of a parent, angst, training your daughter to be an assassin?

Summary: After contacting a mysterious acquaintance of her later father's, Molly York learns more about the man. And about his death.

a/n: I'm a little obsessed with this fic right now. I love writing soft!Dave and his daughter. I know this isn't the mean daddy Dave smut we usually love, but I'd love to hear from you if you're enjoying this!

Thanks @purplepascal042 for helping me with this part! Love you, B!

/ / / / /

Dave is exhausted from jet lag, sprawled on the bed, still in his shirt and slacks. The last job took a lot out of him. He needs a shower but his body won’t budge.

“Daddy are you sleeping?” Molly asks from the doorway in a stage whisper.

“What’s going on?”

“Will you help me with my homework?” she asks. She’s clutching a worksheet and a pencil.

“Sure. Come here,” he says and she climbs onto the bed beside him. “What’ve we got?”

“I have to interview a grown up about their job. For Career Day,” she explains.

Dave looks over the page, his tired eyes barely focusing. “Did you ask Mommy to do this?”

“I want you to do it,” Molly insists.

He lets Molly read him each prompt and he answers as simply as possible. She dutifully writes down each answer in scrawling pencil.

“How do you spell ‘investigation?’” she asks.

“Sound it out,” he encourages. He’s so burnt, he’s not sure he can manage to spell it either.

“‘What is your favorite part about your job?’” she reads.

Dave sighs longer than he means to. “Coming home to my family.”

“No, Daddy! It has to be about work!”

The address Capra had given Molly was a boarded up movie theater off the highway about 30 miles outside of DC. Molly told Carol that she was shopping for dorm decor when she’d left the house full of nerves. She’d gotten so good at lying, sometimes she believed her own.

The parking lot was empty, the cracks in its pavement filled in with grass, punctuated by street lights every few yards. Molly had expected to meet at a coffee shop or a restaurant, not some out of the way place. She was sitting on the trunk of her car, her leg bouncing, when a black BMW pulled up. The woman driving it looked to be in her late 40s, her hair pulled back neatly. When she stepped out of her car, she pulled her sunglasses down her nose and eyed Molly up and down.

“How old are you now? 20?”

“18,” Molly told her.

“You’re the older one?”

“Yeah,” Molly said.

Capra approached her and she hopped down from the bumper.

“Didn’t your dad ever teach you not to talk to strangers?” she asked.

Molly hesitated. She had her pepper spray in her back pocket and she was much younger, probably quicker than this woman. But Dad wouldn’t give her Capra’s number if he didn’t trust her. Still, Molly decided to lean against her car and keep her distance.

“You know a lot about me for a stranger,” Molly replied.

Capra grinned. She nodded her head back and said, “Walk with me.”

Molly paced the pavement with her, glancing at the woman beside her. She was slim with sharp features, whispers of frown lines in her face. Capra offered Molly a cigarette which she declined.

“Is Capra your first name?”

“It’s what my friends call me,” she replied.

There was a darkness in her tone that made Molly edgy.

“Did you work with my dad at the agency?” Molly asked.

That would explain some things. But Capra laughed.

“No.” Capra observed Molly and then her lip twitched up into a wistful smile. “Jeez I bet everybody tells you you look just like him.”

Molly’s stomach churned.

“Were you and my dad-”

“No,” Capra said. “God no. Your dad was...a complicated guy but not when it came to his family.”

Molly nodded, not sure if she felt relieved or if that just gave her more questions.

“So how did you know each other?” She asked.

“It’s a long story,” Capra said, scratching her forehead. “We did some freelance work together.”

Capra made some small talk, asking Molly where she was headed for college, what she’d be studying. Molly had so many questions of her own she could only manage short answers. Finally, she had to ask the question that had been nagging at her the loudest.

“Do you know what happened to my dad? How he died?” She’d stopped walking.

“I know the same as you,” Capra said.

“Which is?” Molly asked. She wasn’t going to accept such a vague answer.

Capra gave a wry smile. She flicked her cigarette butt to the ground and twisted it into the pavement under her shoe. Molly’s heart sped up. She’d caught Capra in a lie.

“You’re a clever one,” she said.

“It wasn’t an accident, was it?” Molly asked. She searched Capra’s face for an answer. “Please.”

“I wasn’t there,” she replied.

“But you know. Please. I need to know.”

Molly felt like she was holding her breath. Capra looked away, then back at Molly.

“You don’t want to know,” Capra said.

“I do,” Molly said. She balled her hands into fists so she didn’t shake Capra by her shoulders.

“He wouldn’t want you to know.”

“How do you know that?” Molly spat. “What the hell do you know about him? I’ve never even heard of you. You don’t know.”

“Trust me, there’s plenty about your father you didn’t know,” Capra snapped back.

Molly was so frustrated she wanted to cry. Instead she let out a growl and turned back towards her car.

“Fuck this!” She stomped away.

She’d crossed half of the parking lot when she heard Capra call after her. Molly squared her shoulders, tried to compose herself, and turned around to glare at the woman. Capra was clutching the bridge of her nose, her eyes shut. Finally she dropped her hand with an exasperated sigh and pulled out another cigarette. Capra lit it as she closed the distance between them, blowing smoke out of her mouth and shaking her head. She held the cigarette out to Molly.

“You’re going to want one of these. And you’re going to need to sit down for this.”

Dave parks the car in the driveway. Molly is sitting in the passenger seat, still grinning from her first experience at the shooting range.

“Now remember,” Dave says before he opens the door, “this is our secret. So if Mom asks where we were, just tell her our cover story.”

She nods eagerly but then her lips twist into a thoughtful frown.

“It’s lying,” she says.

Dave feels guilty for a moment. Deceit is practically second nature for him but what kind of father teaches his daughter to be dishonest?

“But it’s a white lie,” she justifies to herself. “Right?”

Dave kisses the crown of her head.

“It’s alright, baby. Everybody has secrets.”

Molly felt dizzy. The story Capra told her made her feel like she’d gone from a tilt-a-whirl into a funhouse. Everything was distorted and she was upside down. Already, she was replaying her memories of Dad with this new context tinging them like a dark filter.

Dad kissing her on the forehead before bed. Hoisting her onto his shoulders on the 4th of July. Singing along to “Baba O’Riley” and drumming on the steering wheel. Dad killing people. Earning blood money. Dying by someone else’s hand.

“It’s a lot,” Capra said. They were sitting in Molly’s parked car, the windows rolled down, the sound of the highway traffic washing through like white noise. “But he did it for you.”

Molly’s eyes flicked to her. She hadn't asked for anybody to die.

“He was trying to take care of his family,” Capra clarified.

She let Molly sit in silence for a while as she sorted out what she’d just heard. Molly felt like she was grieving him all over again. Except this time she mourned the father she knew.

“My mom-"

“She never knew,” Capra said.

Molly nodded weakly.

“It was a secret because he loved you.”

Molly felt a tear slip from her eye. She didn’t want to feel hurt. She didn’t like feeling deceived. She wiped her face and set her jaw.

“What happened to Mac?” she asked.

She remembered meeting the man who had killed her father. Everything that had happened just before he died was so clear in her memory. She could still see Mac’s face, his friendly smile.

He’d seemed like such a nice guy. She remembered asking him a load of questions as he rode with them to school and he’d laughed and told Carol what a bright girl she was.

It sickened her to know he’d been right there. So close. And she was so small and clueless. Had Dad known what was coming?

“He lives up in New England,” Capra said. “Retired.”

Molly turned to Capra, anger burning in her chest.

“He’s still alive?” she asked.

“Afraid so,” Capra said.

Molly looked back out the windshield, took a deep breath. Retired. Dad would never get to retire. Go golfing or build model cars or whatever old men did.

“And you do...what my dad did?” she asked.

Capra didn’t confirm or deny it.

“You can’t discuss this. With anyone,” she informed her.

Molly nodded again. She wouldn’t dream of telling Carol this. She would protect her from the truth just like dad had.

“I’m sorry about this,” Capra said before they parted ways. “You’ve got my number. Give me a call if you ever need anything.”

As Molly drove home, thoughts solidified in her mind.

Dad was a killer. But he’d been a killer before, in the Marines. He’d still loved her. He went to her karate matches and read her bedtime stories. She might have lived her whole life without ever finding out what Dave York really was.

If he hadn’t died.

He could have taught her how to drive. Taken photos before senior prom. Visited colleges with her.

He would have danced with her at her wedding. Helped her fix up her first home. Held her future children in his arms.

If he hadn’t been murdered.

And what about mom? She wouldn’t have worried about calling plumbers and taking her car to the mechanic. Run herself ragged getting Alice to dance class and Molly to archery competitions. She wouldn't have had to sleep alone every night.

If it hadn’t been for Robert McCall.

Molly could absolve her father’s sins. But Mac she would never forgive.

“Young lady, open this door right now,” Dave barks.

“You told me to go to my room! I’m in my room!” Molly snaps through her bedroom door.

She’s given Carol lip all morning and he’s had enough of the attitude. Every day, his sweet little girl is fading more and more into a stubborn teenager.

“You do not slam doors in this house.”

“Leave me alone!” Molly yells. “I hate you!”

Dave knows that she’s angry and she’s got a bad temper. That these outbursts are the first signs of puberty rearing its ugly head. But, still, her words punch him right in the gut.

“If that’s how you’re going to speak to your father, then you’re grounded,” he manages.

“Good!”

Molly had been reserved ever since Dave’s death but, after meeting Capra, she felt her melancholy harden into bitterness. She went through college. She didn’t make a lot of friends or date many people. She studied, she practiced her marksmanship, she trained.

As soon as Molly turned 18, she was back at the gun range. It had been a long time since Dad had taken her for target practice but she was pleasantly surprised by her grouping. She’d had a good teacher.

She liked everything about shooting. Not just because it had been a secret she shared with her father. She liked the ritual– loading the magazine, carefully picking up the gun. She liked the focus– taking a deep breath and looking down the barrel. She liked the power.

Mac’s grin stayed fixed in her mind. She thought about it when she pulled herself from bed at five in the morning to do push ups. She pictured it when she worked herself into a sweat at the gym’s punching bag. She imagined it when she put holes through the head of the target at the shooting range.

She didn’t think she’d have the chance to do that in real life. But she dreamed about it almost every night.

Molly had always stayed close to home but she visited less and less. Alice started college in New York so Carol had an empty nest. Molly could hardly bring herself to visit her mother anymore.

Molly had always been good at keeping secrets but this one was the most difficult. Every time she saw Carol, Molly imagined how devastated she would be if she knew the truth. It had become too painful pretending and so Molly simply avoided most situations where she would have to.

Capra stayed in touch, calling every so often to check in. It was clear to Molly that she felt responsible for this angst but there was no one else to talk to about it.

Some people were driven by ambition or lust or creativity. During college, it felt like Molly ran on anger. It helped her concentrate, to work hard. She graduated at the top of her class and had no trouble landing a job that paid well.

Adulthood was different.

Dave had been wise enough to set up trusts for the girls so Molly hadn’t racked up student debt. But now she had rent and bills and car insurance. She couldn’t stuff herself with fries from the dining hall and call that a meal. She had to work long hours for a demanding boss. She had to take care of herself. She had to go through the monotony of life.

When it came down to it, she just didn’t have the energy to be mad anymore.

Molly still held a flame inside. Mainly, she kicked herself for not getting to the gym more often. She hated that she was moving on. She had dulled as she got older, as she followed the news every day and saw that the world was a shitty place where justice was scarce.

Molly was in her childhood bedroom, going through layers of old school papers, polaroids from her friends’ bat mitzvahs, and certificates from karate tournaments like an archeological dig.

Carol was finally selling the family home. Downsizing. The girls were there to help clean things out, decide what should go to the Salvation Army and what would be going home with them.

It pained Molly to think about the house with another family living inside it. Even now in her late twenties, she still walked in the door and expected Dad to come around the corner from the kitchen, to say, “Hey, kiddo!” the way he used to. Once the house was sold, she would never experience that sensation again.

It was strange, Molly thought, how you could live somewhere for all of your life and then, one day, you’re locked out forever.

Carol was moving to a two bedroom condo closer to the city so she couldn’t take all of this junk with her. Molly packed a bankers box with some trophies and a few of her favorite books and brought it down to the kitchen.

Alice was leaned against the island, lazily sorting through cookbooks. Although the day called for packing boxes and hauling trash bags, she was dressed to the nines. Molly wondered if her sister owned casual clothes anymore. Alice had gotten a job at a fashion magazine and, although it seemed like she was low in the pecking order, she acted as though she was Anna Wintour herself.

“That’s all you’re taking?” Carol asked, eyeing the box.

Molly shrugged. She already had already taken the things that were most precious to her long ago.

“You know, Mom, if you don’t want to move, I can help you with the mortgage,” Molly said.

Molly had been saving up to buy a place of her own but she would happily give that up for her mother. Nowhere would ever feel like home the way this house did.

“It’s time,” Carol said. “I don’t need this much house to myself.”

Mom didn’t look her age but the bags under her eyes had grown more defined. She’d stopped coloring the streak of grey hair that had come in at her temple.

“It’s a good idea,” Alice jumped in. “Mom needs to get out there again. She hasn’t met any guys in the suburbs.”

The idea of Mom dating always made Molly bristle. She didn’t want Carol to be lonely but couldn’t picture her with a man who wasn’t Dad. The same way she couldn’t see her living in a different house.

“I’m going to work on the study,” Molly said and retreated to the home office.

This had been Dad’s room and, even though it had accumulated a mess of things over the years— old workout tapes, discarded hobbies, books about tidying— it still felt like his sanctuary. Molly picked through a shelf and found Dad’s high school yearbook. She hoped Mom wouldn’t mind if she took that home with her. She liked pictures of her father in his youth, skinny and bright eyed with scruffy hair.

Molly sat on the floor in front of the built-ins and fished out a few baskets and shoe boxes from the cabinets. The first one contained family photos. Vacation in the Bahamas, Alice’s 4th birthday party, Molly dressed as a ninja for Halloween. She went through each one with great ceremony. Molly already had a bunch of photos of her and Dad so she tucked these back in their box and put them in the ‘keep’ pile.

The next box was filled with cards. Sympathy cards. Molly sighed as she went into them. One from Carol’s coworkers with a rose on the front. Sending you comfort. A small card that looked like it had come with a floral arrangement from cousin John. He’ll be missed.

There was a card with a painting of a serene beach scene. With deepest sympathy. Molly opened it and read the short message.

So sorry for your loss. It feels like we’ve lost one of the family. Send my love to the girls. - Mac

The cold rage that had burnt out reignited in Molly’s stomach, her entire body so tight she almost shook. She could feel tears sting in her eyes.

That motherfucker. That fucking asshole had the audacity to send a sympathy card. To send his love. That piece of fucking shit. Molly almost crumpled the card in her hands, as if she could wring his neck through it, but just then Alice wandered in. Molly dropped the card into her lap.

“What are these?” her sister asked, crouching down and grabbing a photo. “Aw! You looked so cute!”

Molly swallowed hard and tried to slow her heart rate as Alice sifted through the pictures.

“Christ, why does Mom still have these?” Alice complained, picking up one of the sympathy cards.

“They’re for Dad,” Molly said.

“It’s not like he got to read them,” Alice replied.

She tossed it back onto the floor.

“Why are you always such a bitch about Dad?” Molly asked, the animosity she’d discovered in Mac’s card spilling out of her.

“Sorry I don’t worship him.” Alice rolled her eyes. “It’s not like he was ever around. And when he was, he spent all of his time with you.”

Alice crossed her arms and looked away self-consciously. Molly felt a jab in her heart. She knew Dad loved Alice. He’d done awful things so that she could take dance lessons and go off to a good school where she could study whatever she liked. Things that eventually got him killed. But Molly couldn’t tell her sister any of that so she just stared at Alice with her mouth half open.

“Girls, when you’re finished up there, lunch is ready!” Mom called from the kitchen.

“Call me a bitch…” Alice grumbled as she left the room.

Molly pushed the cards into the ‘Trash’ pile.

“Ow! Daddy! Molly hit me!” Alice whines.

“You hit me first!” Molly growls.

Dave glances at them in the rear view mirror.

“Is that true?” he asks.

“No!” Alice says.

He knows she’s lying. Molly’s sitting there with her arms crossed as Alice clutches her elbow dramatically, lips set in a pout.

He knows what he’s supposed to say. Some bullshit about being the bigger person, two wrongs don’t make a right. And if Carol was in the car maybe he would. But the world doesn’t work like that.

“If you hit somebody,” he warns, “don’t be surprised if they hit you back.”

Molly took Mac’s card with her. It was sitting on her passenger seat when she pulled away, Carol standing on the lawn, waving. Send my love to the girls. Every time she thought about it, she got so pissed off she wanted to puke.

She couldn’t even wait to get home before she was dialing Capra, one hand gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles ached.

“What’s up, kid?” Capra asked.

“I need to find Mac.”

/ / / / / part three soon!

@pascalslittlebrat @purplepascal042 @starlightmornings @mouthymandalorian @danniburgh @originallaura @tuskens-mando @221bshrlocked @wyn-dixie @goddessinwolfskin @cheekygeek05 @fangirl-316 @fairytale07 @rosiefridayrogersunday @a-skov @skulliebythesea @oceanablue @rebel-soldat @stevie75 @evyiione @buckwildbarnes @likes-good-reblogs-even-better @silverwolf319 @killermonkeys45 @velia27 @anxiousandboujee @amneris21 @green-socks @pedro4ever @pedrocentric @kesskirata

[p-artsypants]

Arcadia or Bust (17)

Heartstone Hall

Previously on Arcadia or Bust:

James Lake Sr. came back to Arcadia while Jim and friends were out retrieving the new Heartstone. The deadbeat not only ran away with a girl, but he’d been dealing cocaine in LA. Now he’s come back to lay low, since he owes a lot of money to some really dangerous men. He got a kilo of cocaine to try to make his profit back, only to not pick it up from the drop zone before Jim found it. Thinking it was trash, Jim ate the brick and went into an 8 hour rage, busting up the town. The US army of Area 49-B got a whiff of the destruction and came to collect Jim from the hospital. With a campaign from the town and an old friend of Walter’s, Jim is turned loose. However, he’s not out of the woods yet, as his amulet was ripped out of his chest and now he has a crater. 

—

*points in a random direction* Hey look! What’s that over there?! *Drops update* *runs*

Ao3 | FF.net

—

“It’s okay Jim, you’re going to be okay,” said Claire, as she hovered just over his face, and pressed little kisses to his cheek. “We’re going home.” 

“…For the…glory…” he muttered, before wincing and falling silent. 

“Are you taking us to the hospital?” Barbara asked as the van sped on, faster than any speed limit. 

“Nope,” said Samuel. “I think this is a Heartstone issue.” 

She nodded, knowing that would be the best. “He needs a tissue transplant, but his skin is so tough…I don’t even know what we could do for him. Get human skin and have Merlin transform it into half-troll? I hate that I don’t know what to do! I’m not a surgeon, damnit! And I’m certainly no magic expert!” 

“Stop at the McDonald’s near the edge of town,” said Toby. 

“Really? You want a Big Mac at a time like this?” 

“No! Merlin is probably there, and I bet he could fix Jim up.” 

“Wait, Merlin-Merlin? Like ‘Amulet of Merlin, Sword of Excalibur’ Merlin?” Asked Samuel.

“That’s the one!” 

Once they got into town, Samuel pulled in at the McDonalds as requested, and Toby was out the door before he stopped the car. 

“Merlin! Merlin help!” He cried, as he ran inside the restaurant. 

The employees behind the counter all looked at him, and then pointed at Merlin, who had set up shop in the corner of the store. He was surrounded by books, and other magical artifacts. 

How had management allowed this? Well actually, Merlin wouldn’t have listened to any authority, so they probably didn’t allow it. 

Toby ran to the wizard. “We got Jim back! He’s in the van, and he’s hurt really bad! We need you to heal him!” 

“What kind of injury?” Asked Merlin, calmly packing up his books. 

“They took his amulet, and there’s a huge hole in his chest! I could see his lungs!” 

Merlin screwed up his lips in thought. “Where are they taking him? To the Heartstone?”

“That’s what Samuel said!” 

Merlin didn’t ask who Samuel was, so he probably didn’t care. “I will be there shortly. I must gather the appropriate supplies. Keep him reclined and relaxed. And try not to prod the wound.” 

Toby nodded once and then ran back outside to the van. 

One of the McDonald employees calmly came over and refilled Merlin’s coffee, as he had asked to be done every hour. 

“Good lad. I’m leaving now. Here, for your trouble.” And he dropped a sizable emerald in the kid’s hand. 

The kid looked at it and shrugged. “Whatever.” It beat minimum wage at least.

—

At the canal, Claire opened up the portal to Trollmarket while Walter and Samuel started to get Jim out of the van. She ran in and called out, “Blinky! ARRRGH! Jim’s back! He’s hurt!” 

ARRRGH came running, while Blinky gathered all sorts of supplies and carried them down to the Heartstone. 

It was a mad dash then. Jim was quickly, but carefully, brought down into Heartstone Hall, and rested on his mattress on the floor. 

“…cold…” he whispered as he grasped and pulled at the blankets. 

Barbara pulled the comforter up to his stomach, and draped a smaller one over his right side. “I know you're cold, but you have a wound, and we can’t cover it yet.” 

“…water…” 

“I’m on it!” Cried Toby, running upstairs.

Jim groaned out in pain, and the Heartstone responded with a pulse of light. 

“Is that good?” Asked Claire. 

“The Heartstone is picking up on Jim’s pain, and is releasing magic to aid in his healing!” Said Blinky, with a smile. 

“Is that going to deplete the magic we put back into it?” 

“No no! Well, maybe…it shouldn’t!” 

Jim moaned out again, tensing his whole body, and craning his neck in an effort to find relief. 

“Just a little bit longer, sweetie,” said Barbara. “Merlin will be here soon.” She gnawed on her lip. “I could probably get an IV for him from the hospital. I have my phone, so call me if there’s any change!” 

“I’ll drive you, Dr. Lake,” said Samuel. 

“That’s alright, I’ll take the tunnel to my house and grab my car. That way, you don’t need to be held up here any longer. You’ve been a great help.” 

The general smiled. “It was worth it more than I thought. The Trollhunter owes me a favor now, you see. I probably won’t need to collect, but it’s always fun to have that in your back pocket. And besides, I got to see Trollmarket and the Heartstone with my own eyes.” He glanced at the orange stone. “That’s a privilege everyone in the Janus Order longed for.” Before he got too wistful, he turned to Walt. “You’ll let me know how this all turns out, right? Because I’m invested in Mr. Lake’s fate now.”

“I’ll text you updates.” 

“Fantastic.” He gave Jim a pat on the shoulder. “Hang in there, Trollhunter.”

“I’ll show you out,” said Barbara as they left together. 

Then it was just Blinky, ARRRGH, Claire, and Walt. Time ticked on in silence, as no one knew what to do or say. Only occasional groans from Jim broke the quiet atmosphere.

“What’s taking Merlin so long?” Said Claire, with irritation. 

“He’s coming?” Asked Blinky.

“We told him about what happened before we came down here. Said he had to collect ‘appropriate materials’.” 

“So he’s collecting materials,” said Walter. “It might take some time.” 

“Yeah, but he’s probably doing it at a leisurely pace. The man has no concept of time anymore. We need to get him a phone. Or at least a walkie-talkie.” 

Just then, a gallon bucket of ice and water bottles descended on a rope from the center column of the room. 

“Heads up! It’s kinda heavy!” Toby called before it hit the ground harshly. Then he nearly tumbled down the stairs himself. 

“I got a bunch because I know Jim doesn’t have running water down here yet, and I didn’t want us to run out!” He took a bottle from the bucket and put a silly straw in it so Jim could drink without having to sit up. “Sorry Jim, this is the only straw I have…it says ‘big boy’.” Toby tilted the end of the straw so it touched Jim’s lips. 

In his half conscious state, Jim felt it, took it in his mouth, and sucked, emptying half the bottle in one go. He released the straw and licked his lips. 

“Better, Jimbo?” 

“Uh huh…” Jim managed a little nod. 

“Okay. I’ll be on water duty. You just say the word, okay?” 

“…For…the glory of Merlin…” Jim tried again, before wincing hard. “Hurts to breathe…” 

Claire sat cross legged on the bed next to him, scratching his scalp lightly with her nails. “Just hang on for a little bit longer. Your mom is bringing some medicine from the hospital, and Merlin is going to fix you up.” 

His eyes flickered open ever so slightly. “Where am I?” 

“You’re in Heartstone Hall, in your bed.” 

His eyes closed again. “My amulet…gone.” 

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it right now. Just relax.” 

“Hurts…” 

“I know, babe, I know.” 

Walt stood, looking at his phone. “Barbara’s back. I’ll go help her.” And he left. 

Blinky snapped his fingers. “I think Vendal had a recipe for a burn salve up there. I can work on that. Come ARRRGH! It’s the least we can do!” 

“Yell if Jim need help,” ARRRGH added, as he followed Blinky up the stairs. 

“More water, Jimbo?” 

“Huh Uh…” 

After he drank, he winced, and a tear rolled from his eye. “I want my mom.” 

“She’s coming, Jim. She’s bringing some medicine for you.” 

“Where…am I?” 

Claire then realized that Jim was barely conscious, and wasn’t listening to much anyways. She’d end up repeating herself a lot. 

She pushed his bangs out of his face and kissed his forehead. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re nice and safe, babe.” 

Toby and Claire sat in silence as Jim continued to struggle to breathe. 

Thankfully, Barbara and Walt appeared not a minute later, with all sorts of goodies. 

“Alright kiddo, let’s get you all cleaned up. Claire, would you put on these gloves? I’d like you to clean the skin around his wound with these alcohol swabs while I set up the IV.” 

“On it Barb!” Claire got to work quickly, thankful to be able to do something to help. 

Walt set up the IV stand while Barbara prepared the needle and inserted it in Jim’s arm. 

“I hate that I have to use a thicker gauge needle, but your skin is so tough, kid.” 

Jim didn’t seem to even register what she was doing. 

Once the IV was in and taped in place, Barbara took out a thick gauze and started taping it in place on Jim’s chest. “The wound isn’t bleeding nearly as much as it should,” she stated, with a frown.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Asked Claire. 

“I’m thinking it’s because of the burns on him. They weren’t this bad at the hospital. He had been out in sunlight that day, but it was overcast and he had on long sleeves.” She taped down the gauze with medical masking tape. “No, this looks like...well, third degree on a human. Direct heat like flames or burning metal. I guess that would be a UV light for Jim.” 

“I’m going to hammer that lady into the ground,” Toby muttered.

“There, this should be good for now. I’ll bandage him again once Merlin cleans him up.” She rested a weak hand to her head. “Lord help me, I’m depending on Merlin.” 

Thankfully, news came by Claire’s phone, with an unknown number. 

“Hello?” 

“Claire? This is Douxie.” 

“Douxie! Please tell me you’re with Merlin!” 

“I am! Not that I can get his butt moving any faster. He briefed me on the situation, and I’ve been trying to rush him…but, you know how he is…” 

She could hear the old man shouting somewhere in the near distance. “Three days? Well he’ll be dead by then! No need for it by that time! You don’t have anything in stock?” 

Claire winced. “Where are you guys?” 

“At the hardware store, ummm you’re better off not knowing why for now. We’ll be at Trollmarket soon, I promise!” 

“Thank you. And thank you for calling. We were getting worried.” 

“How is he?” 

“Barely conscious. He’s on an IV with pain meds now…so he’ll be feeling a little better. He keeps trying to summon his amulet, but he doesn’t have the strength.” 

“Uh oh, he doesn’t have the amulet with him?” 

“No, the army wouldn’t give it back.” 

Douxie exhaled in a huff. “We’ll figure something out. Oh, Looks like Merlin found an alternative. We’ll be on our way soon!” 

“Great! See you!” And she ended the call. “Merlin should be coming soon!” 

“Thank goodness!” Barbara sighed. “Though it looks like Jim finally fell asleep. His pain is mostly managed…all we can do now is wait.” 

It felt like they were waiting hours. But there was not much else to do. 

Jim slept fitfully, occasionally opening his eyes to look around. It was clear he was exhausted, so he’d just close them again a moment later, and they heard his slow breathing. 

“This is torture,” said Claire. “But I can’t imagine what he’s been through.” 

“I hope that along with her discharge, that Kubritz lady does hard time in prison,” said Toby. 

“And I hope they do everything to her that she did to him,” Claire added, with venom. “If they don’t, I will.”

“I’ll back you up.” 

It was hard to share small talk, but just listening to Jim’s labored breathing and waiting felt like a terrible option. 

Finally, finally, Merlin’s horrible grating voice echoed through the Heartstone husk. “Hello? Is this where the injured Jim is?” 

“Yes!” Claire cried out. She was never so happy to hear that man’s voice. 

No really, most of the time, his appearance filled her with dread. 

Merlin and Douxie descended the stairs, arms full of plastic shopping bags. 

And it finally seemed like Merlin was done wasting time, as he spared no greetings and got busy examining Jim. He removed the blanket that covered his shoulder, and the temporary bandages Barbara applied. 

He cringed at the sight of the crater. “Yikes. That is quite the wound.” 

“Can you heal him?” Claire asked, afraid that he wasn’t up to the task. 

“Sure. No problem. Douxie, prepare the plaster.” 

“Plaster?” Barbara asked, with horror.

“Ugh, I know,” said the wizard. “Three days for expedited shipping for clay! Ridiculous! I thought the modern era was a time of immediate gratification! But no, the one time I need something quick, it’s a three day wait! Do they not know where the nearest clay deposits are?!” 

“Okay, but the plaster? What’s the deal with the plaster?!” 

“What else do you expect me to use to fill a wound in a troll?” 

“You’re going to pour plaster in his open wound?!” 

“Yes! And more!” He glanced over to the bucket Douxie was mixing in. “How’s it coming?” 

“Do you want it more watery, or thick?” 

“Thick without being too dry.” Then he turned back and leaned in close to Jim. “None of you are going to like what I’m about to do.” He pressed two fingers to Jim’s chest, and spoke, “imperium.” 

Jim’s eyes flashed open, wide, pupils expanded so the iris was just a hint of blue.

“Jim Lake Jr., summon your amulet,” Merlin commanded. 

Jim raised his hand up in the air slowly and spoke clearly, “for the glory of Merlin, daylight is mine to command.” 

Then Merlin let go, and Jim fell back into slumber, Claire having to catch his hand before it smacked him in the face. 

“What was that?” She asked. 

“I thought it was fairly obvious. A mind control spell. Very weak, only works on unconscious individuals within range.” 

“You know Mind Control?” Asked Toby, with some horror. 

“To a degree. As I said. It’s more like the power of suggestion. Morgana has learned how to fully possess someone’s mind, but I always preferred to use my natural charisma to persuade people.” 

Someone snorted. 

“The plaster is ready,” said Douxie. “Did you want to start with the strips?” 

“Yes,” he collected the tray Douxie had prepared. Mesh cloth strips sprayed with plaster, which created a base. Carefully, Merlin began to lay the strips in the hole in Jim’s chest, applying just enough pressure to adhere them and blend the edges. Once he had completely coated the inside, without filling the hole, he stopped.  

“There, now we’ll treat his burns. You said you had electricity down here?” 

“Uh, yeah. There’s an outlet on the wall next to you,” said Claire. 

“Perfect.” From his various bags, he took out a palm sander with a coarse paper on it. He plugged it in. “Now how do I work this thing?” 

“Why don’t you let me handle that while you use the file…” Douxie took the power tool away from him. “Claire, can you sit him up and lean against his back as a counter weight?”

“The file? I don’t want to use the file! I got this so you would use the file!”

“Merlin!” Barbara scolded. 

“Fine, I’ll use the file…better for fine detailing anyways.”

It was agonizing moments as Douxie buffed away the dried, burnt skin that came off like dust, while Merlin shucked off the chunks that were too thick for the sander. 

Jim, for the most part, only twitched and cried out on occasion, only when they got too close to fresh skin. 

Once he was rubbed raw and bright blue, a little bloody in some places, they stopped. 

“It’s like an extreme pumice stone,” Douxie tried to soothe, feeling guilty as Claire wiped her tears. “The skin affected by the sun, or UV lights or whatever, was solid stone and had to come  off.” 

“I know,” said Claire. “It was just…jarring.” 

“Alright, we’re almost done,” said Merlin, scrounging up some compassion. “You can recline him again, Fair Claire.” 

Gently, Claire laid him back down on the pillows. 

Merlin took the loose plaster and slopped a bit in the wound, trying to make up for the missing space. 

Then, from the stairs came a ‘plink, plunk, plink, plunk’ as the amulet rolled its way down and stopped at Merlin’s feet. “Got here faster than I anticipated. I’d love to see the damage it did on it’s way.” 

“I thought if someone stole the amulet, it wouldn’t come back?” Asked Toby. 

“Not unless it’s properly summoned. If it only chooses one Trollhunter, you think it would want to be anywhere else?” Merlin cleaned the amulet with a rag to a near mirror shine, before placing it back in its spot on Jim’s chest. 

“Can’t you just keep it out of him? What if something like this happens again?” 

“Then we’ll just have to buy more plaster,” shrugged Merlin. “Anyway, it’s better this way.” He smeared more plaster in the cracks and smoothed it with his hands, until the seam was perfectly even. 

“Now what?”

“The plaster should start to dry soon, and a chemical reaction will take place, putting off heat. Then I will start the incantation.”

“Why then?”

“Must everything I do be questioned?”

“Yes.” Said everyone, unanimously.

“Because I said so. That’s why.” He touched the plaster, careful not to jostle it, and waited for the heat to set in. “Alright, I suggest everyone stand back. You too, Claire, get behind me.” 

Claire scooted off the bed and stood back with Toby and Barbara, then they waited anxiously. 

“It’s going to look and sound painful, but a little bit of pain, and he’ll be all better.” Merlin’s hands glowed blue, interacting with the pulsing, ticking amulet. Instead of a one word spell, like he had been doing, Merlin muttered a fast string of words that sounded like nothing and everything at the same time. Lightning bolts skittered from his fingertips, and drew patterns on Jim’s flesh. 

Jim screamed and writhed as every bolt connected. They danced across the plaster, turning it to his hardened flesh as they moved. The hands on the amulet spun rapidly as the stone pulsed a violent blue. The wound from Morgana, lower on his chest, flickered orange like embers. The Heartstone glowed as well. 

Claire felt her hair stand on end and goosebumps rise to her skin. The magic in the room was deafening, blinding, and amazing.

Finally, Merlin halted, and only smoke remained. 

Jim breathed deep, quick breaths, like you would after a run. But it wasn’t labored or halted, like before. 

“Cl-Claire?” He asked, his voice stronger than it had been. 

She nearly tackled him. “Jim! Jim you’re alright!” 

He winced slightly as she collided with his raw skin, but hugged her anyway. “Where am I?” 

“You’re home!” 

“Home?” 

“It’s a long story. How do you feel?” 

“Tired, hungry…a little sore. I remember being in a lot of pain…” he looked down at his chest, touching the amulet in confusion. 

“Merlin just healed you,” she explained. “They hurt you pretty bad, huh?” 

He rolled his neck and stretched his shoulders. “No kidding.” 

“Well,” said Merlin, “my work here is done. I think I’m ready for a nap of my own.” 

“Thank you, Merlin,” Barbara said sincerely. “Thank you for saving my boy.” 

“Of course! You didn’t think I was going to leave my greatest warrior to die, did you? Oh, before I forget, I should probably give this back.” He handed a black wallet over to her. 

“Wait, whose is this?” 

“James’. I needed to pay for the sander somehow.” 

Barbara laughed. “Well, he’s not going to be happy about it, but glad to know he contributed to this too.” Then she muttered, “considering it’s all his fault in the first place.” 

By the end of the day, Jim was up. Not fully recovered, but enough to shuffle around. He was able to go to his mother’s house and take a shower, while Barbara changed the blood-stained, plaster dusted sheets. When he was all clean, he sat in the living room in his sweatpants, exhausted, and aching. 

“Blinky made you a salve, if you want me to put it on you,” Claire offered, holding up a little jar. 

“I’d love that.” 

She delicately rubbed it into his skin, like Aloe on a severe sunburn. Careful not to scratch him, but also wanting to make sure he was covered.

James walked past the room and halted. “Jim! You’re—you’re back!” 

Jim just glanced at the man. “And?”

“I just…um, look, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“I didn’t know…that you ate trash. I would have made the drop for the cocaine somewhere else. I didn’t think—that’s not something people usually have to worry about, you know?”

“Yeah. Usually.” Jim said, stone cold. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Why do you care?”

“B-because you’re my son?” 

Jim couldn’t stifle the eye roll. “So NOW you think I’m your son? Where was that mentality when you pointed a shotgun at me?”

“I was in a severe crack withdrawal when I did that.” 

“And you’re just magically better now?”

James sat in an armchair opposite him. “I’m not going to say yes, but I’m better. I’m trying to get out of your and Babs’ lives, because I brought so much hurt in the first place. But…seeing what I’m missing out on—“ 

“No!” Jim snarled, standing up. “You don’t get to be sentimental now. You don’t get to change your mind. You suck! That’s all you’ve done! Mom’s moved on, I have men that are more fatherly than you could ever be if you tried! So just—finish your business and get lost!” He tried to step towards the basement, but he crumbled, still far too physically weak to walk on his own. 

“I got you,” Claire whispered, wrapping an arm around his waist. “James,” she turned to look at him briefly. “I don’t know if you realized how crappy that thing you just said was. Don’t try to get Jim’s hopes up. He’s hurt, he’s upset, he’s vulnerable. So just stay away. If you truly want to be back in Jim’s life, don’t mention that you’re considering it. Back it up with action, or else you’ll just be disappointing us all when you go back. And as far as I know…your word is worthless.” She helped Jim walk slowly back to the basement, to the tunnel back to Trollmarket. 

“Trouble? I heard yelling,” said Draal.  

“No, no trouble. Thanks Draal,” Jim gave him a weak, affectionate punch. 

—

Many many miles away, a group of men watched the news, an old broadcast that one of them had snagged. 

“—The campaign worked perfectly! Now, hero to Arcadia, James Lake Jr. has been released from his wrongful imprisonment for his bizarre appearance, and returned home. Lake is hailed a local hero, as his acts of kindness and selflessness during a horrendous tornado in the area have become well known in the community as well as on social media. A parade in Lake’s honor is set for this weekend, as Lake has made a good progression in his recovery from captivity.”

“Okay, a kid was arrested because he looks weird. Not sure what the correlation is.” 

The leader of the pack smiled. “Oh, it’s such a subtle thing. We don’t care about the kid, or his deeds, or even the city of Arcadia really.” 

“Then…what?”

“Did you catch the boy’s name?”

“I…Lake? Like…”

“Jim Lake Jr. is what they said. Maybe a common name. But if there’s a Junior…perhaps there’s a Senior nearby.”

—

I have not seen Rise of the Titans (though I expect to watch it this weekend) but I heard it was…not good, story wise. So in this fic, I won’t be applying any of it. Probably. Unless something juicy catches my eye.

[refinedbuffoonery]

Outside Force

Trigger Warning: suicidal thoughts 

Set immediately post-Codex.

*****

His friends are too loud. Bozer’s jokes aren’t funny. Desi and Russ’ laughter grates his ears. The fire is too bright, too hot. 

Riley catches his eye from across the circle. Slight tilt to her head, raised eyebrows. Like she can see through the smile he forced his lips to contort into, the smile that couldn’t meet his eyes, no matter how hard he tried. 

They saved the world from a supervolcano and nuclear winter. 

The team is alive, safe, whole. 

Mac doesn’t feel whole. He saved the world, losing a piece of himself every step of the way. 

The world is so fucking heavy. 

He looks away from Riley. Mac could convince everyone else he is okay, that he is just tired. Who wouldn’t be, after that? Even Bozer mostly believes him. But Riley...she sees right through him. Like she understands. 

Maybe she is just as lost as I am. 

Mac gets up and walks inside without a word. He ends up in his bedroom. He wants to go to sleep until they stop hovering over him and asking him if he is okay. I’m fine. I’m just tired. For a group of highly trained spies, they aren’t very good lie detectors. Either that or they give up too easily. 

Based on how quickly everyone but Riley deemed him a traitor, Mac thinks it’s probably the latter. 

His bed feels like it belongs to another man, one who should’ve died in a fiery explosion. An American flag draped over an empty casket. A quiet funeral. A tombstone marking an empty grave, just like his parents. 

Sleep doesn’t come. Sleep won’t come. Sleep never comes. 

Footsteps echo down the hall. Mac turns his back to the door, deepening his breathing to feign sleep. His last defense against the onslaught of check-ins. Sleep is sacred; the one thing none of them will interrupt. 

The door creaks open. He keeps forgetting to fix it. 

“I know you’re not asleep,” Riley says. 

Mac freezes, just in case she’s bluffing. The door closes. 

“I know you’re not asleep, Mac,” she repeats, coming closer. “You and I both know you don’t sleep anymore.” 

Caught. So much for sleep being sacred. 

The bed dips beside him, and Mac rolls over, cracking his eyes open. The inquisitive look Riley wore outside is gone, replaced by soft determination. Riley glances down at his hand, fisted in the comforter, and covers it with her own. He unclenches it. 

“Sorry I left like that,” Mac started. “I’m just--” 

“Tired,” Riley finished. “I know.” 

He doesn’t deserve to be here right now, with her looking at him like that. Like she cares. He is living on borrowed time--he’s been living on borrowed time, ever since he dropped out of MIT and joined the Army. Now it feels like he’s reached his expiration date, and every death on his behalf buys him bonus time he doesn’t want. He sure as hell doesn’t deserve it. 

Not everyone gets a soft ending. Not him. After everything, not him. 

Riley crosses her legs beneath her, like she’s planning on staying awhile. “Tell me about it.” 

This is new. Gone are her offers to be there when he’s ready to talk. Now she’s making him talk, even though it’s the last thing he wants to do. Mac doesn’t have the energy to be mad at her for it. 

How could he tell her that he feels like he hit rock bottom, yet he’s still falling? Down, down, down, and there’s no end in sight. Maybe there isn’t an end. Maybe Hell doesn’t have a bottom; it’s just falling through layer after layer after layer for the rest of eternity. 

Maybe he should’ve let the volcano erupt. Maybe it would’ve blown his soul into so many pieces there wouldn’t be any of him left for a hellish afterlife. That’s what it would’ve done to his body, after all. His body and the rest of the Western Hemisphere. 

“They’re all dead,” he finally whispers. The loss of his family is the easier horror. The expected one. It’s easier to lament the dead than explain why he belongs with them. 

Riley waits for him to explain. He does, even though she knows most of it already. He tells her about the last moment with his aunt, after she chose to set off the explosion so he could live. He tells her about his dad, a dead man sacrificing himself to buy his son time. He tells her about his grandpa, who raised him. He tells her about his mom being taken away too soon, put down for trying to build a healthier world for her son to inherit. Not the guilt. Not the part where he wishes he was dead instead of them. 

Riley seems to be at a loss for words. She is silent for several minutes before asking, “So what are you going to do with the time they gave you?” 

“I don’t deserve that time.” 

There it is. The other thing. 

Her soft determination erupts into something else. Something...angry. She leans over him, planting her hands on either side of his shoulders. “Now listen to me, Angus MacGyver. You deserve every single second you get on this fucked up planet, and don’t you ever try to convince yourself otherwise. You hear me? I’m not Jack, but I swear to god I will keep you alive by sheer force of will if that’s what it takes until you believe you deserve it.” 

The edges of his vision blur as tears start to form. This was a mistake. He shouldn’t have burdened her with this. 

She’d be trying a long time. There is nothing he could do to deserve living at the expense of another person’s life. They deserved to live out their own lives. 

He is living the life of another man’s son, a son who was sacrificed by Mac’s own father to keep him alive. 

The lives of his mentor and his friend, who died in explosions meant for him. 

The lives of the Codex operatives sentenced to die by their own leader, merely the price for the chance to eliminate Angus MacGyver. 

“Mac,” Riley says, heartbreakingly softly. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

He takes a deep breath. He couldn’t avoid it anymore, at least not with her. Hiding the truth would hurt her just as much as telling it. 

“I didn’t want to be another problem.” 

“Another problem? You think I’d rather watch you internalize your guilt so much that you blindly volunteer yourself for every self-sacrificial thing possible? Watch you put yourself in harm's way because you think everyone else’s safety is more important than yours?” Her voice broke. “Getting shot at by a dozen highly-trained snipers is a problem. But you dying? That will break me.” 

Tears flow freely down both their faces. Mac curves a hand around her neck, thumb brushing her cheek. Riley rests her forehead against his. “I’m sorry,” Mac croaks. 

Riley cradles his face in her hands. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for.” 

“Feels like there is,” he admits as another round of hot tears splashes onto his cheeks. He hates himself for making her cry like this. He hates himself for giving her this burden, this weight to carry. He hates himself for hoping sharing would make it easier to bear. 

Sharing definitely makes it worse. 

Mac caves in on himself, plummeting deeper and deeper into the guilt. 

“Hey, hey hey.” Riley squeezes his cheeks. “Come back to me.” 

The numbness sets in again. One limb at a time, he loses feeling in his body. Another piece of him falls away. It’s cold. Mac thinks he’s cold, but Riley’s tears burn like boiling water dripping on his face. Just let go already, a little voice calls. There’s no reason for you to still be here. 

“Mac,” Riley pleads. “I need you to breathe, okay? You’re safe. I’ve got you.” 

She inhales deeply, loudly. Mac tries to match it but can’t seem to suck in enough air. His lungs are collapsing from the pressure of falling deeper and deeper into the Earth. Soon he won’t be able to breathe at all. His lungs won’t inflate and he’ll finally get his wish. 

His fingers find her pulse, pressing below her jaw. It’s fast enough he can match his shallow breaths to it. In out. In out. In out. Her pulse slows as he starts to breathe again. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. 

“I’m back,” he chokes out. 

His hands settle on her waist as he mentally prepares himself to push her away. Riley doesn’t need this, Mac thinks. She has her own trauma to work through. 

He could do it--drive her away with a single sentence. Call her out for asking him to share his problems when she is still determined to ignore her own. He could call her a coward and a hypocrite, and she’d pack up her belongings and move out of his house so quickly it’d be like she was never there in the first place. 

“Mac,” she whispers. 

He can’t do it. Call him selfish, but he can’t bring himself to cut her free. 

He needs her. 

Like she could read his mind, Riley murmurs, “Let me help you.” Her body shakes. 

“You can’t bring them back, Riles.” Mac guides her down to lay on top of him. Her small body feels gigantic above him, heavy with the weight he’d just saddled her with. 

“Let me help you anyway.” 

“Okay,” he relents. Mac rolls them onto their sides and squeezes her tightly until she stops shaking. 

She can’t fix him, not really. She can’t save him from an eternity of falling, but maybe, just maybe, she could help him control his descent. 

An object in motion will stay in motion unless acted upon by an outside force. Newton’s first law. 

Riley is an outside force, alright. I swear to god I will keep you alive by sheer force of will if that’s what it takes, she said earlier. I’ve got you. 

“Riles?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Thank you. For everything.” I love you. 

Mac sees it, in her eyes. The “I love you too” glimmering back at him. All she says is, “You would do the same for me.” 

He tucks her head under his chin and tangles his legs with hers, considering the words they didn’t say. After a few minutes, he asks, “Can you stay? I don’t want to be alone.” For the first time that night, he doesn’t. He wants company. Her company. 

His best friend, the outside force who keeps him from endlessly falling into the abyss. 

“Sure.” 

Mac doesn’t want to let her go, but eventually he does, so she can send their friends home and change into pajamas. Riley returns pajama-clad and makeup-free, worry lines still creasing her face. 

She slides under the covers and pulls Mac to her so he can rest his head on her chest, her nails lightly scratching his scalp as she toys with his hair. “Can you promise me something?” she asks. Mac looks up at her. “Tell me next time, before it gets bad like that again.” 

“I will,” he swears, and he means it. 

They don’t say anything else for the rest of the night. Mac doesn’t know how long he dozes in Riley’s arms while she stays awake, keeping watch. At one point, he brushes a hand down her face to gently close her eyes, earning a soft chuckle. When Riley’s breathing finally deepens, Mac slips into unconsciousness once more. 

He wakes in Riley’s arms the next morning, and for the first time in a long time, he feels light. 

[dbnightingale24]

Patience

Chapter 7

~~

Okay, so I’m really excited for the next few chapters of all my stories, and I'm super excited that I’ve been able to post more frequent than usual!! I didn’t like writing this one so much (sadness), but the next few chapters...YAY!! Anywho, I hope you all enjoy!! I love writing angsty shit way too much 🙄

Warnings: Angst, Arguing, Family Drama, Slow Burn, Dialogue Heavy, Swearing,  Drinking, Anxiety, Broken Heart...I think that’s it?

Word Count: 4582 (What’s the point of apologizing anymore?)

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter:

Dreaming With A Broken Heart - John Mayer

Come On And Go - Scout

Little Lies - Fleetwood Mac

I Caught Myself - Paramore

I do give consent for any of my works/stories to be posted elsewhere.

~~

“Do we really have to go?” Julia questioned for the second time, as they all sat parked outside of her parents house.

“The sooner we go in, the sooner we can get out,” Meg sighed.

“So...get out.”

“I don’t wanna,” Meg whined, leaning back into the car seat.

“It can’t be that bad,” Andy laughed, starting to feel a little anxious.

“You don’t know my parents,” Julia sighed as she finally unlocked the car door. “Let’s get this over with.”

Julia grabbed her outfit and Andy’s suit from the trunk and slowly led their little group up the steps. She was about to knock when the door in front of her opened.

“I was beginning to think you’d never get out of the car,” her mother mumbled with her arms folded.

“Nice to see you too,” Julia scowled moving past her mother.

“Julie bug!” her father exclaimed, wrapping her in a tight hug. “I was afraid you wouldn’t show!”

“Well, a promise is a promise,” she smiled sweetly shrugging her shoulders. 

“Why didn’t you show up with Raoul?” her mother snapped at Meg.

“Cause I slept over at Julia’s,” Meg mumbled.

“That’s not right. You have your own home-”

“I literally just got here. Can you fucking not start this shit already?”

“I’m just saying, think of how your husband feels.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, but it’s nice to know you give more of a fuck about how he feels than I do,” Meg spat.

“Now now, let’s not start the fighting so early,” Julia smiled, pulling Meg away from their mother. “We still have the rest of the day.”

“You. You’re the man from Julia’s job,” her mother commented when her eyes finally landed on Andy, completely ignoring Julia’s words.

“Yes, it’s nice to see you again,” he smiled, extending his arm which she gladly took.

“I like him Julia. You’ve done well,” she smiled, taking him in.

“We’re just friends,” Julia groaned. “I’m getting a drink, does anyone want anything?”

“I will happily take a bourbon,” Meg smiled.

“You’ve had enough to drink,” Julia quickly responded.

“So you’re back to abusing yourself and your body? Great. It’s not like you have a child or anything to care for,” their mother muttered.

“Hey mom, why don’t you have another cocktail and shut the fuck up?” Meg smiled sarcastically.

“Okay, both of you need to calm down. Meg you know your mother-”

“Can you not? Do not explain what she meant. We all know what she meant, Dad. Jesus, I’m so fucking happy I came to celebrate you two getting back together. So fucking happy,” Meg snapped before storming off.

“Well,” Julia’s father smiled sheepishly towards Andy “welcome to our home.”

Watching her father run off after Meg and her mother make her way towards the kitchen, Julia turned to Andy with a small sad smile on her face. “So...that’s my family.”

**

“Wait, what do mean they aren’t really married?” Andy asked Julia as they made their way around her parents living room.

Her parent’s party had been in full swing for well over three hours and Julia had taken her time showing him around the house, and pointing out all of her parents friends that she couldn’t stand. She hadn’t planned to stay as long as they had, but she saw how hard Meg was throwing back drinks, she felt that it would have been a terrible choice to leave her alone.

“Mr. and Mrs. and Voorhees kind of have an...understanding. They know it’s in their best interest to look married, but they have no real desire to actually be together. They’re married on paper and in public but they don’t even live in the same house,” Julia shrugged, grabbing a glass of champagne off the tray one of the servers was holding out.

“Jesus, and these are the people your parents had you around?”

“Yup, shitty parents with shitty friends. I fucking hate it here,” Julia mumbled as Raoul made his way over to them. “Whatever it is, I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I can’t reel her in,” Raoul said desperately.

“Well whose fucking fault is that? She’s your wife. Maybe, if you paid a little more attention to her, you’d know how to handle the situation. Hell, if you paid more attention, she probably wouldn’t drink so fucking much.”

“Listen Julia, I know you hate me-”

“I don’t fucking hate you, I just wish you’d grow a pair and be a better husband and father. You obliviously know she’s unhappy, so maybe you should do something about it before you lose her.”

“I try okay? There’s work-”

“Oh my God! Shut the fuck up!” Julia snapped. “There’s literally no reason for you to keep working. You have more than enough money to take care of all of you. You just don’t want to deal with anything. I’m not Meg, I’m not about to sugarcoat things to make you feel better about yourself. You’re a shitty husband and a shitty father. I’m not running to your aide to take care of Meg, take care of her yourself,” Julia spat before storming off outside.

She leaned against the railing on the terrace and huffed in frustration. She just wanted to go home, and by the way things were going, there didn’t seem any ending in sight. She hated that Andy had seen her family in the light she’d always seen her family in. She hated that he had seen her family at all. She wasn’t even sure why she invited him anymore. What did she expect? That they would be on their best behavior because she brought a friend with her? She should have known better. She couldn’t even bear to think of what Andy was thinking of her dysfunctional ass family. She knew he’d never judge her, but still. She wished she would have just kept her mouth shut.

“Bad night, huh?” a slightly familiar voice asked from the shadows.

Julia looked over her shoulder to see someone who looked oddly familiar making his way towards her. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“I guess it has been a while,” the man laughed softly. “I promise I won’t ask to play Doctor tonight.”

“Jaime?!”

“Yeah, my acne finally cleared up,” he laughed, taking a sip of his drink. “Everything alright? You seem a little flustered.”

“I’m alright, just another one of my parent’s grand parties. Hence the alcohol,” Julia smiled and Jamie let out a little laugh. “Where’s your wife? I hear this is the third time you’ve been married?”

“Ha! No, only twice,” he smirked “she’s here somewhere. Making the rounds and all that. I saw the guy you’re here with-”

“Andy.”

“Yeah, he’s a DA? You two are cute together.”

“Ha, we’re just friends but thank you,” she snorted, taking a sip of her drink.

“I feel sorry for him, he doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Oh, um...thank you?” Julia questioned, starting to feel uncomfortable. She never felt comfortable being alone with Jaime and clearly time hadn’t changed that.

“Still not good at taking compliments I see,” he laughed, moving closer to her. “You look good tonight. You’ve always looked good. You wanna get out of here for a bit? Take a break from all of this?”

“No, I should stay. I don’t wanna leave my sister here all alone,” she chuckled uncomfortably. How the hell was she gonna get out of this?

“Isn’t she the older sister? She can tale care of herself. C’mon, one drive. What’ll it hurt?” He placed his hand on her lower back and pulled her closer. “Drives are good for relieving stress.”

“Jaime, what are you-?”

“Everything okay out here?” Andy asked from the doorway.

“Ah, you’re the best friend,” Jaime smiled, dropping his hand, as Julia let out a sigh of relief.

“That I am. Are you okay?” he asked, turning his attention to Julia. She simply nodded as she quickly made her way towards him. “Don’t come near her again,” Andy warned before making his way back inside with Julia at his side.

“Thank you so much,” Julia breathed out once they were back inside. When he didn’t respond, she looked to see him with his eyebrows furrowed. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did someone say something? Did my mother say something?”

“What was that about?” Andy snapped.

“What was what about?”

“I don’t know, you two seemed pretty cozy.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? What part of me looked cozy to be next to Jaime?!” Julia snapped in a hushed tone.

“You didn’t seem to be moving away.”

“Then why the fuck did you come outside to rescue me? What the hell is the matter with you?”

“Nothing is the matter with me, I’m just pointing out the obvious.”

“You know what? Fuck this and fuck you,” Julia snapped, letting go of Andy’s and grabbing a drink before rushing upstairs.

She quickly made her into her old bedroom and slammed the door shut. “Fucking asshole!”

“Oof! Someone’s in a mood,” Meg snickered, sitting at Julia’s old work desk, causing her to jump.

“What the hell are you doing in here? I thought you were having a giant meltdown or something.”

“I was and then I just came in here. I always liked your room more than mine. Better clothes, music, and pictures. Your room always felt safe,” Meg sighed. “What’s wrong with you? Who do I need to murder?”

“Jaime would be a good place to start, then yell at Andy. He’s being a massive dick right now.”

“Uh oh, what’s wrong? Trouble in paradise?” Meg slurred, a slick grin on her face.

“Don’t start, I’m not in the mood.”

“Okay okay, talk to me about it. Tell your big sister what happened,” she said seriously, sitting up straight and pouring herself another drink.

“Jaime is still a fucking creep and he was hitting on me. Andy came to my rescue, but only to be an asshole when we got inside the house,” Julia huffed, taking a sip of her own drink.

“Well, Jaime can go to hell and I’ll be happy to send him there, but Andy was just having a case of severe jealousy.”

“Meg-”

“You’re telling me you haven’t thought about it? Not even once?”

“Of course I have,” Julia groaned as she took a seat on her bed. “I’ve thought about a few things, but it will never happen. It can’t ever happen.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Cause he’s Andy fucking Barber! The man is built a fucking sculpture. Guys like him don’t go for girls like me. I get guys like Jaime,” she sighed, taking another sip of her drink and sitting up against her headboard.  

“I have never understood why you’re so hard on yourself. I mean, I do get it but at the same time...I guess I just thought you’d come around,” Meg said as she took another sip.

“You don’t think you should go easy on that?” Julia questioned, pointing to the bottle.

“No, I definitely should. My son is here, some of Raoul’s business partners are here, and I blacked out last night. However, I just don’t want to.”

“Hun, I think you need to talk to someone.”

“That’s what I have you for,” Meg laughed. “No, I don’t think I will. I think I’ll just file for a divorce. It doesn’t seem that love is enough, even though I desperately want it to be.”

“I’m sure if you two go to marriage counseling you can sort it out.”

“Why should it have to come to that? Between the fighting and the drinking, I feel like it’s very clear that I’m not happy. Hell, Luis is so used to him not being around that he gets confused when they do actually hangout together. It’s not supposed to be like this. It shouldn’t have to be this hard.”

“Anything worth having isn’t going to be easy. Look at childbirth,” Julia scoffed before finishing off her drink.

“Yeah, but this is much different,” Meg laughed. “I want what you and Andy have.”

“We don’t have anything,” Julia snickered, getting up and taking the bottle from Meg and pouring herself another drink.

“You two have everything,” Meg muttered as she took the bottle back “you’re both just too dumb to realize it.”

“Gee thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I’m not the greatest big sister, but I know when I see something genuine. What you and Andy have is rare as fuck. He’s your best friend.You spend every waking moment with each other and you still haven’t grown tired of each other. You both light up around each other and for each other, you talk without boundaries, you bring each other out of your shells, and none of it is an act. I know we didn’t have the best example of true love and happiness growing up, and love is no Disney movie, but you two come pretty damn close. How you both haven’t figured it out is beyond me,” Meg laughed, taking a drink from the bottle. “That’s what I want. I want someone who puts me before work, is excited to see me even if it’s only for a little bit, who is selfish about spending time with me, and makes me light up. Raoul is none of those things for me anymore and I hate that. I feel like him and Luis are my entire universe but we just take up space in his,” Meg practically sobbed out.

“Fuck this party,” Julia smiled weakly. “We know their relationship is shit anyway. What do you say we get drunk and dance our asses off in here? I’m pretty sure I still have your favorite Bowie album in here.”

“I say fuck yeah!” Meg smiled, wiping away the few tears that had managed to escape.

For the rest of the night, Julia and Meg jumped and danced around to the different albums Julia had left at her parents house when she finally moved out. Reality had done more than its fair share of kicking both of their asses, and they both figured that a good old fashioned sister night was just what they needed. For a just a while, the rest of the world could wait.

**

“I hope you two are proud of yourselves,” Meg and Julia’s mother snapped right after the last guest left.

“I think we did super tonight. As you can see, the house wasn’t burned down. Not a singe on anything,” Meg drunkenly mumbled while Julia just giggled, letting a small hiccup escape.

“Oh grow up! The both of you!”

“Why are you like this? We didn’t even wanna come! You bullied us into coming. Just like you’re bullying us into going to this stupid ass wedding.”

“That’s enough, Meghan!” their father snapped.

“Why are you yelling at her? She’s right!” Julia snapped right back, stumbling a bit. Balancing in heels was becoming harder by the second. “We don’t want to be here, but you two insist upon making us play along. I hate this fucking house, I hate your friends, and I hate this charade we always play like things are fine! Why should we stick around and entertain your friends? This was your party, not ours.”

“You! You left your friend all alone!” their mother quipped, choosing to ignore everything Julia had just said.

“As usual, find your way around the actual problem. Andy is fucking fine. He can work a room better than anyone I know, isn’t that right buddy?” Julia smirked towards Andy, who was doing his best to fight off a small smile.

“Both of you-”

“Oh shut up, can we go now dad?” Meg asked, lazily turning her gaze to his direction.

“Meg-”

“Can we go? There’s no need for us to perform anymore. The stupid thing is over. We don’t need to play pretend anymore.”

“Yeah fine,” he heavily sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Wonderful! It’s truly been terrible and I beg of you, the next time you think of inviting me to another one of these dumb things, don’t!” Meg smiled sarcastically before clumsily making her way out.

“Please let me know when you’re home safe,” their father sighed towards Raoul, who just nodded softly as to make sure he didn’t wake Luis before following after his shit-faced wife.

“I suppose you want to go home too?” he asked turning his attention to Julia.

“I never wanted to come,” she slurred as she finally took her shoes off. “I don’t know why you insist upon doing this, but don’t expect me to be happy. It’s not fair,”

“Julia-”

“What dad?” she whined, throwing her shoes on the ground. “What do you want me to do? What do you want me to say? You want me to give you guys a fair chance? Pretend that I don’t think this is a royal disaster? That’s really laughable. You know what? I’m way too drunk to do this right now, I’m going home. I love you,” she sighed before kissing his cheek and stumbling out of the house.

She went to grab her keys out of her purse, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve completely lost your mind if you think you’re driving us home,” Andy said flatly.

“I’m fine to drive, I know the way like the back of my hand.”

“Be that as it may, you’re still plastered. Give me the keys, I’m driving us home.”

“Where the hell is home anyway?” she slurred as Andy carefully walked her to the car.

“Wherever you are,” he mumbled, opening the car door and helping her inside, before closing it softly.

Julia let those words roll around in her head, while Andy got himself situated in her car. “What the hell does that even mean?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he sighed as he started backing out.

“Oh, someone’s still upset because he thinks I’m trying to fuck Jaime.”

“I’m sorry about that, you know I am.”

“How am I supposed to know when you never actually said it?”

“Jules-”

“I don’t wanna talk about it. Today sucked and I just want to go to bed,” she huffed, crossing her arms.

Andy sighed in defeat and turned on her radio. This was their first fight and it was over something extremely stupid. Both of them were miserable the entire drive. When he got to her apartment complex he shut her car off and they both sat there in silence.

“You know I would never do anything to make you intentionally make you upset-”

“Then why did you say it?” Julia instantly snapped, turning all of her attention to him.

“I don’t...I don’t know,” Andy lied.

“Don’t lie to me. Your right ear flairs when you lie. Why did you say it? It was pretty fucking clear that I was uncomfortable.”

“I know and I just...I didn’t like seeing him that close to you. I don’t like seeing any guy that close to you.”

“No guy is ever that close to me, Andy. No guy except you.”

“Yeah, but I know other guys want to be that close to you and I know why they want to be that close to you. It just pissed me off and I snapped on you. I really am sorry,” he said sincerely, looking her in the eyes.

Julia couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol flowing through her system or the look he was giving her, but she suddenly felt very hot and her stomach felt like it was twisting into a million knots. “I need to get to bed,” she said softly unbuckling her seat belt.

“Give me a second and I’ll help you.”

“I don’t need-”

“Just let me help you. I have to get my car keys anyway,” Andy sighed, before unbuckling himself and getting out of the car.

Andy helped Julia up the steps and held her steady in the elevator, keeping one hand on her hip and the other on her shoulder. She couldn’t help but get annoyed with the nerves she felt building up inside of her. She couldn’t figure out why she was feeling so strange. Andy had touched and held her a million times. Why was this night any different?

“Shit, I left my shoes at my parents house!” she snapped once they reached her apartment, finally realizing why her feet were so cold.

“I threw them in the backseat,” Andy laughed softly “I’ll bring them up before I leave.”

“Thank you,” Julia mumbled, pushing her way into her apartment. She suddenly became very aware of how alone they were. “You know, you can sleep here tonight. It’s late and-”

“No, you’re rightfully upset with me and I should go,” Andy sighed, searching around for the keys to his Audi.

“Andy...why does it make you so upset to see other guys so close to me?” Julia questioned, putting her keys and clutch on the kitchen counter.

Andy froze. “It just does.”

“There’s a reason for it though.”

“Cause you’re my friend. My best friend. I don’t want anyone hurting you or playing with your emotions.”

“And that’s why you got so upset about Jaime?” she questioned, slowly making her way over to him.

“Exactly. I remembered what you and Meg said about him from your childhood. He’s not good for you,” Andy breathed.

“There’s no other reason?” Julia asked, placing her hand on his shoulder.

Andy turned to face her and she saw a ton of emotions in his stare. Desire, anxiousness, love, and fear. He was so beautiful and it was taking the very last bit of her sanity to not kiss him. Unless...

“Julia, what do you want me to say?” Andy asked desperately.

“The truth. Tell me the truth.”

“You’re too drunk for the truth,” Andy scoffed, rubbing the back of his neck.

Julia could feel her heart breaking. “Andy-”

“You need to get some sleep. It’s been a long day and you just need to sleep it off.”

“No I-”

“Please don’t do this. Please. You’re drunk and it’s late. Let’s just cut this off now and I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

“Fine, if that’s what you want. Fine,” Julia sobbed, before walking to her room and slamming the door shut.

She laid down on her bed and sobbed, burying herself under her blanket and covering her head with a pillow. She could faintly hear Andy saying something from the other side of her door, but she couldn’t make sense of any of it. She didn’t want to hear anything he had to say or see his face anyway. How could she have been so stupid? Why did she bother listening to Meg when she was that drunk? She was right to just ignore her feelings, cause the pain she felt was more than she could bear.

At some point, she heard apartment door close and that only made her cry harder. She forced herself to sleep, praying that the next day she would find that it was a bad dream. A horribly realistic bad dream.

**

taglist: @whxre4cevans , @sweetflowerdreams

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S3:E1; Chapter One, Suzie, Do You Copy? - [Pt. 3]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

Summer brings new jobs and budding romance. But the mood shifts when Dustin’s radio picks up a Russian broadcast, and Will senses something is wrong.

A/n:  HAPPY [belated] 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 DAY!

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*✲ﾟ*｡⋆ huzzah

||𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"Wait, how do you know he'll go to his room?" Max whispered.

The six kids stand shoulder to shoulder, their backs glued to the wall of the dining room behind the lounge. There they stood, tucked away just out of sight until their target could make it to the other end of the house.

"My mom's gonna tell him to unpack, she's in on it." Y/n explains quickly in hushed tones, packing in closer towards Max so as not to be seen. "Now shh, I think they're nearly at the-"

BAM

The sound of the front door being thrown open was enough to make everyone jump.

"Dustin!" Mrs. Henderson scolds from the other room. "Easy, will you? What if Tews had been standing there?"

Eyes jump around the room at one another, sly smirks growing on everyone's faces when they heard the commotion. By the sounds of it, their plan had worked and Dustin suspected nothing. Will relaxed only slightly when he heard his friend's voice from the other room. And it was only when he began to imagine the look on Dustin's face as he was saying these things that made Will giggle to himself.

"Sorry, sorry," Dustin says half-heartedly.

Y/n wraps a hand over her mouth, desperately trying to hide an infectious laugh that they all eventually catch at his whine.

Sure enough, they each perk upon hearing the sound of his stomps as he makes his way down the hall in a pout. It is then five pairs of eyes lay steadily on Y/n, waiting anxiously for her next move as she stands at the very corner of the wall. Her head cautiously peeks around the corner with a level of stealth and commitment they couldn't help but admire. Several moments pass before she beckons the party with one lightning fast gesture and they all shuffle back around the corner and back into the living room under her tactful lead.

Once again they find themselves packed in against a wall, Will even finds himself glued to the brick of the fireplace that prods his spine in fear of being seen, but he stays quiet. Itching to use her abilities, Y/n's eyes land on her mother who still lingers by the front door, purse hanging from her elbow. Y/n's friends all follow her gaze to see Mrs. Henderson collecting her keys and reaching for the doorknob.

She smiled at her daughter and her friends and began talking in a not so quiet whisper.

"I'm running late for my appointment-"

Y/n shook her head frantically from beside Max, eyes wide as her arms began waving desperately to quiet her mother as they all were doing. Claudia giggled to herself quietly, eyes going wide as she realized her blunder and mouthed a 'sorry'.

"Hey, Dusty-!" She called, eyes still saying trained merrily on the kids she was in cahoots with.

"...yeah?"

"I'm sorry I can't stay sweetie, but I'm running late. I'll be back by three. I love you! Glad you're home, and say hi to Tews, okay? She missed you!"

The sigh that left Dustin was powerful enough to be heard from the front room, eliciting even more hushed laughter among the group. Though Claudia failed to see, that for the kids, their laughter was more nervous than anything as they silently plead for her to leave in fear of her giving them away.

"Okay, love you too!"

Mrs. Henderson turned back to the lot and winked, pulling open the front door and continued to whisper to them with a blissful ignorance.

"Mac 'n Cheese is in the fridge if anybody wants some." She turned her attention towards Y/n, who looked as if she was ready to melt into the floor. "I love you Pumpkin, have fun."

And with that, Claudia disappeared outside, leaving the party—save for Y/n—with the impossible challenge of not giving themselves away. Lucas was biting his knuckles to keep from laughing, Max was giggling breathlessly into his arm and El and Mike were having just as much luck keeping quiet. Y/n buried her face in her hands and it was a bit easier for Will to swallow his laughter.

Eventually, the moment passed. Just in time too, as the worst of the laughter subsided, the group of friends could barely make out the sound of Dustin talking to himself. Yurtle, they realize, he must be talking to Yurtle.

"At least someone's happy I'm home," he said somberly, and the six of us all shared mischievous smiles. "My own sister isn't even here. She's probably sucking face with Byers somewhere," he sighed.

Y/n's cheeks burned and her jaw dropped. It was the others’ turn to stifle giggles and she looked around shocked and frankly, quite annoyed. Will, of course was the only exception, to which the poor boy’s face could rival a beet. In fact, all he could find himself doing was looking to everyone wide eyed shaking his head, as if to defend his himself and his whereabouts in that very moment. This only made everyone laugh more, and in that instant Will could feel the blush in his cheeks spreading and stinging down his neck and shoulders.

Y/n didn't appreciate that comment much either, and her embarrassment had a very different outlet they quickly found; she looked ready to pounce after Dustin but luckily Max had caught her and held her back. Not without pulling her hands away in a hiss, shaking them out a little. Y/n grumbled something to her, what Will assumed to be a 'sorry' and everyone else knew at once her powers had unintentionally stung Max.

In moments, the air falls silent as the opportunity presents itself. And for the second time in several moments, the party of Max Mayfield, Lucas Sinclair, Will Byers, Mike Wheeler, and El Hopper look down the line expectantly at their seventh member, Y/n Henderson as they wait for her signal. She met their gaze individually before taking a quick breath and closing her eyes. They all watch—Will especially who was completely transfixed—as several waves of heat seeped out of her in steady bursts. Each of them felt warm bursts on their skin almost instantly that kissed the air and moved anything it and everything it could—including Max's hair, prompting the girl to bunch it up over her shoulder. She seemed equally as amazed as everyone else was; watching the room carefully as Y/n's powers slowly and carefully took over the house.

Little things started to move; first the books on the bookshelves just over their heads had started to scrape loudly against the wood. The iron tongs by Will's feet began to rattle loudly, a steady clang that Dustin was sure to hear. Then they all felt it. The shake in the ground that one could barely make out if they tried hard enough.

Will found himself smiling so hard it hurt.

Y/n's was getting better at controlling it, and Will couldn't be more proud. Or in awe.

"What the...?"

On cue, everyone aside from the Henderson girl all looked over at El at the other end of the line, opposite Y/n. Her eyes were already closed and that's when the first beeps and whirs coming from Dustin's room could be heard. Mike recognized a few; like R2D2 and the cymbals from that creepy Jolly Chimp he despised but most of them just seemed like garbled voice boxes. And they could all still feel the rumble in their feet and that's when Will looked back at Y/n.

Veins beneath her skin were starting to show themselves around her lips and eyes from what he could see, but they weren't nearly as visible as they used to be. His eye contact on her was stolen away by Lucas who instantly shared the same thought, the two of them grinning and biting back laughs when he heard Dustin getting closer.

"It's just a dream." He told himself. "You're dreaming."

The rumbling grew more intense, her hold on the world beneath her began to spread past her property without her knowing and everyone was shocked to hear a car alarm go off in the neighbors driveway. Y/n's eyes ripped open, but the shaking continued with few faltering moments. Carefully and with her back glued to the brick wall of the fireplace, she poked her head around the corner only to jump back. She sent everyone a reassuring nod, her eyes zoning into a spot across the room as she kept her focus. With an iron grip on reality that she clung desperately to, Y/n slowly but surely reeled in her grip on the world around her, trying her best to keep it tethered to the boundaries she had mentally built to keep her powers contained.

A skill she was still learning how to hone in the past few months. Something she quickly found with her powers, and her potential, and how closely they resembled a dam. A dam once broken, was hard to rebuild and her safety relied on keeping her powers from spilling.

Only moments had passed, and so it would appear to Y/n, she was the only one to notice her small panic. But time marched on and so did the plan.

"Now!" Mike whispered.

In perfect sync, Y/n and El both stopped and so did the commotion they had caused. The room had stopped shaking and the toys had stopped making noise. Will sent a quick glance Y/n's way; she looked winded but more excited than anything which relived him greatly. He would have had to have been to dead to miss her panic, and he was glad she had powered through.

Silently as a mouse, she motioned the party to follow her and they all complied, as light on our feet as possible.

Lucas handed Y/n a corner of the banner as the party entered the lounge, the six friends creeping on their toes. Just as they all had hoped, Dustin was bent down in the carpet investigating the army of toys El had commanded, a display they welcomed eagerly enough that they completely glossed over the can of hairspray in Dustin's left hand.

Y/n brought her party blower up to her mouth as they all did, and Max silently counted down from three as Dustin stood to his feet.

Three...

Two...

And-

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

Y/n jumped back and stumbled into Will's arms as she covered her ears, dropping the banner in the process. Reflexively, Will hugged her tight to his chest as his arms encapsulated her, pulling himself and her both away from Dustin's line of fire with his eyes squeezed shut. Dustin was still screaming and so was Lucas,  eardrums were bursting and Max had to intervene to pull Dustin out of shock and to Lucas's aid.

Poor Lucas was still screaming as he clutched his eyes, now collapsed to his knees on the carpet. Y/n, Will, and Max rushed over, Y/n dropping to her knees to help as everyone looked up at Dustin gawking.

"Dustin! What the hell?"

Dustin was still in shock, looking back and forth between the banner, the can in his hand and Lucas. Y/n manages to stop Lucas's screaming and wipes the most aggressive pools of hairspray from around his eyes and his eyebrows with her thumbs to keep any more from getting in. She winces as he panics and tries her best to calm him down. Weakly, he tries to bat away her hands but none of it works.

"Don't do-! OW, OW OW! You're rubbing it in!" He cries.

"No, I'm not! I'm not touching your eyes! I'm cleaning your- STOP MOVING! More will get in if I don't get it off your forehead!"

"No, it won't-aaahhh!"

"You'll need to flush your eyes,"

Lucas immediately freezes, all efforts to bat her away halt but his eyes remain screwed shut and watering profusely. To the best of his ability, he gives her a stern look, not realizing he is missing Y/n completely and glaring at the tempered glass window behind her.

"Uh, no way."

Y/n looks up at Max, and without saying a word, Max Nods. Stepping forward, she hooks her arm under Lucas's shoulder pulling him up to his feet and drags him away around the corner, Lucas protesting the whole way.

As they do, all remaining attention turns to Dustin, expressionless. Y/n stands up and rips the can out of his hand, sending him a glare before looking at it. A funny look crosses her face and she looks back at him, any trace of anger lost in amusement.

"Why do you have Farrah-"

Dustin's eyes widen in a panic and he rips the can from her hand before she can finish.

"Thank you guys so much for the surprise!" He laughs nervously. "That was, uh- you guys, eh, you guys got me. Yeah. That was good. That was cool. Hey, SORRY ABOUT THAT LUCAS! MY BAD!"

He takes off for the kitchen, calling after Lucas leaving Will, Y/n, Mike and El in confusion. A knowing look flashes across Y/n's face as she crosses her arms and she calls out to him before Dustin can disappear around the corner.

"Speaking of," her voice full of mischief when she connects the dots. "Steve says hi~!"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

A stubborn summer breeze swept through downtown Hawkins, bringing with it several dried up leaves that still  lingered from autumn as well as the occasional rogue flyer and yet this was the most populated it had been in weeks. All that was missing from the desolate wasteland of a scene was a tumbleweed strolling down the road.

Joyce Byers stood alone in the window of Melvald's as she strung up what seemed to be the hundredth variation of the store's discount sale sign as she stood atop a small step ladder. The radio spilled a soft tune into the store, no one else was around to hear it so Joyce didn't feel so bad about turning it up.

The store's bell rang much to her surprise, bringing her attention to the door. She found herself smiling a little at who stood in the entrance and she muttered a soft greeting.

"Hey," Hopper said, fidgeting with his hat. "You busy?"

Joyce secured the tie on the banner and her shoulders slacked in shrug. "You're our first customer, so..."

Hopper can't seem to meet her eye, the pit in his stomach as stubborn as the unsettling image of the previous night playing over in his head that twisted his gut. He doesn't have to say anything for Joyce to understand his dilemma. She doesn't bother to hide her exasperation with him either and she cocks her head and gives him an unimpressed look as she scoffs.

"What now?"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"And then El, she just... slams the door. Right in my face."

Hopper sits on an semi empty shelf, hands wrung together as he scowls at the pack of markers across the isle from him. Joyce casts a glance at him every now and then to show she's listening as she continues to work, not at all surprised by what she is hearing. Or why Hopper is mad. Yet still, she hardly bothers to show enthusiasm as she marks the price on her third package of Pro-Yo Yo-Yo's.

"Uh-huh," she mumbles, allowing Hopper to continue his rant.

"You know, it is that smug son of a bitch, Mike." He seethes, his bushy scowl never leaving his thousand yard stare. "He's corrupting her, I'm telling you."

The man is too upset and in his own head to notice Joyce make a small face at the accusation.

"And I'm just gonna lose it. I mean, I am gonna lose it, Joyce."

"Just take it down, Hopper," she eases, crossing over into the next isle.

"I need for them to break up." He declares suddenly, not unlike that of a pouting child.

"That is not your decision."

"They're spending entirely too much time together." He proclaims, standing up into a pace. "You agree with me about that, right?"

Joyce seems to think on this for a split second, a thoughtful frown written on her face as she pauses her work.

"Well, I mean, they're just kissing, right?"

"Yeah, but it is constant!" Feeling he hadn't made his point clearly enough, he steps forward and leans himself over a shelf. "It is constant. Okay? That is not normal, that is not healthy."

"You can't just force them apart. I mean, they're not little kids anymore, Hop. They're teenagers."

'They're not adults, either.' He thinks, angrily tossing a small rubber ball he had found up and down in the air as he paces.

"If you order them around like a cop, they're gonna rebel. It's just what they do."

"So what, I'm just supposed to let them do whatever they want?"

"No, I didn't say that." Joyce eases. "I think you should talk to them."

"No. No." Hopper sighs. "'Cause talking to them doesn't work."

Joyce fixes a stern glare on the man that she makes sure he sees. "Not yelling. Not ordering. But talk to them."

Hopper paces unsteadily, even shaking out his arms at the embarrassment that is already coming to him at the thought. This only worsen at what she says next.

"You know, like a heart-to-heart."

And yet, he stops suddenly. All trace of hostility replaced with uncertainty, and once again he fiddles with the hem of his hat.

"A heart-to-heart? What is that?"

"You sit them down and you talk to them, like you're their friend. I find if you talk to them like you're on their level, then they really start to listen."

Hopper leans tiredly against a support beam, anxiety bubbling up in his stomach.

"And then, you know, you could start to create some boundaries." She finishes.

"Boundaries," he contemplates softly, and Joyce nods.

"Yeah, but, Hop, it's really important that no matter how they respond, you stay calm."

Hopper rolls his eyes, something that does not escape Joyce. And despite her growing impatience with the man, she chooses to practice what she teaches and keeps her cool.

"You cannot lose your temper."

He uprooted his gaze from a spot on the ground and looks up at her, face still smushed against the support beam as he tries to entertain the idea.

"Did you have to do that with your boys?" He asks timidly.

The question paints another thoughtful look on her face as she recalls. But it's not long before she clicks her tongue and gives him a shake of the head.

"Not so much," she answers, marking another package of Yo-Yos before she interrupts herself momentarily. "I mean, not about this kind of stuff, no. I've talked to Jonathan some and he's a smart kid, you know. And Will, well, he's still pretty shy. I think he's getting used to this all this stuff still, I really don't think I have to worry about much for a while. But other stuff we've run into, like car payments with Jonathan or Will's chores... Both of their responsibilities around the house,"

She nods admittingly, sending Hopper an encouraging look.

"sometimes we need to rehash things like that, and I'll tell you, there's a lot less friction when you level with them."

Hopper watches his fingers as they steadily drum against the false wood of the beam, his mind racing and his dread building. In an attempt he knows is weak, he barely meets Joyce's eye and timidly asks.

"Maybe you could do it for me?"

Flabbergasted, Joyce shakes her head, mumbling several 'no's. Hopper steps forward eagerly, pleading with her.

"Yeah, you could. Yeah, you could," he says growing more excited. "You come over after work. Yes."

His feet spread far across the linoleum tile stretching his legs and lowering himself closer to her height. She only shakes her head further at his proposition, a small tug making itself known deep within her she can't allow herself to acknowledge.

"No, it only works if it comes from you," she says, jabbing the pricing gun on his chest that left a price sticker. She stops suddenly, a thoughtful look twisting her face that Hopper couldn't help but appreciate. "But..."

Joyce steps away and Hopper straightens, eagerly following her lead as she heads for her counter. "But?"

"Maybe I can help you," She pulls a pad of paper and pen from a hidden stack as she takes a seat, clicking the pen open as the words begin to accumulate in her mind. "find the right words."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Ow, ow, ow. Ow!"

Lucas stands wincing under the steady burst of lukewarm water that fell from the Henderson's kitchen faucet. Max watches with a sympathetic wince as he straightens, blinking back the painful sensation that stabbed at his eyes. Water covered his face and soaked some of his shirt, and yet he could still feel the stinging sensation in his corneas but the worst of it had subsided thankfully.

And he could finally open his eyes little by little now, which was a start.

"Better?" Asks Max, wince still screwed tight onto her face.

He takes a deep breath as Y/n makes her way into the kitchen in a brisk walk, a washcloth she had retrieved from the linen closet in hand. Lucas continues to blink back the blurry vision he still can't quite seem to escape as Y/n shoves the folded washcloth under the water while keeping a tentative eye on Lucas.

He inhales deeply, swiping several droplets from his eyes.

"Still stings." He answers finally.

Max frowns, not knowing what much else to say other than mumble a soft sorry he barely catches. Y/n stops the water, and rings out the small towel thoroughly before stepping back out of the way and refolding the piece of cloth.

She looks between her friends, offering a similar sympathetic look as she pressed the cloth firmly between her palms to reheat the already cooling water. Her powers work effortlessly to warm the now wet washcloth before she hands it over to him.

"This should help with the stinging. Don't use it yet though if your eyes aren't properly flushed,"

He sighs, taking it gratefully and pressing it to his eyes. The act draws out a small hiss but still he keeps it close to his eyes, welcoming the sense of relief it brings.

"Again, sorry about that," Y/n says, smiling weakly.

Lucas nods with a tight lipped smile and Max turns to smirk at Y/n.

"You seem to know a lot about this," she inquires.

A tired scoff breaks loose and Y/n's eyebrows shoot up in a funny look as she concedes.

"Unfortunately this isn't the first time something like this has happened with Dustin. One time I got up to get a midnight snack and he didn't hear me. Long story short, I spent the next half hour getting his glass of milk flushed out of my eyes. Some weaponized hairspray isn't that much of a surprise, I should have known."

There's a small beat of silence between the three of them that is soon broken by Lucas. He still holds the pink and slightly tattered washcloth firm against his eyes and a prolong sigh deflates his whole body as he nods.

"Yeah." He agrees somberly.

Chuckles bounce between the three of them and Y/n gives Lucas a quick pat on the back and a smile Max's way before leaving the kitchen. She disappears down the hall and into Dustin's room with others, leaving the couple alone yet again.

Lucas pulls the cloth away finally, his eyes still screwed shut. Max watches as he tests the waters and peels his eyes open. He's shocked to find no more pain or lingering sting left on his eyes, as of it had never been there. The only trace there had even been anything wrong is the hot washcloth in his hands and the almost non existent numbing tingle he felt in his eyes and the skin around them where Y/n had insisted on cleaning.

Noticing the odd look on his face, Max cocks a brow and looks go Lucas a bit uneasily.

"What?"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"I call it the Forever Clock," Dustin beams.

Mike, El, Y/n and Will stood gathered in Dustin's room surrounding him and his bag of trinkets he had created. With a bright grin he gives the lever on the device a spin, several of it's wooden popsicle parts spinning an eclectic blade of plastic and metal that one could only describe to look like a windmill.

"Alright? Powered by wind. Very useful in the apocalypse."

He hands the clicking contraption off to Will as he excitedly reached for another device. Will seems the only one taken with the device, and he smiles down at it impressed as he gives it several spins. Y/n watches from his side as he inspects the inner working of the contraption and she smiles to herself at the sight before her attention was pulled back to her brother.

"Then, I give you..." Dustin pulled another device from his bag, his excitement growing. "the Slammer."

Y/n, Mike and El seemed rather confused by the hammer he had pulled out and now began to fiddle with. Several pieces of unidentifiable objects were attached near the bottom of the handle. And with one simple click, the hammer comes to life in his hands. It shook immensely and even rattled his arm and yet he still stuck it forward for all to see. It brought out an impressed look on Y/n's face, which couldn't be said for the others.

Mike merely leaned away from the tremoring hammer with an unimpressed look, and El who clung to his shoulder, her arms interlaced with his took a cautious step back as her eyes widened. Will hadn't noticed, much too preoccupied with the Forever Clock and nobody seemed to notice the whiff of mischief take over him. He smiled at Y/n who still held her eye on the Slammer, and brought the Forever Clock closer to her face as he spun it. The clicks and whirs grabbed her attention and she turned just in time to see him clicking it towards her face. A small chortle escaped as she pushed it away, a toothy grin overtaking both their faces in a moment only they noticed as he gently teased her.

Dustin had already moved on, discarding the Slammer back on his bed and exchanging it for his duffle bag.

"—this is my masterpiece."

As carefully as the weight would allow him, Dustin dropped the bag to the ground creating a clunky and muted thunk, breaking the spell over the young couple and pulling them back to the present. Everyone followed suit as Dustin joined his duffle on the carpet, reaching for the zipper.

"I would like you to meet..." the bag is unzipped, unveiling an underwhelming pile of metal and wire. "Cerebro."

Dustin waited for the excitement he felt to spread to the others, his cheeks beginning to hurt from smiling. But he was only met with unimpressed and rather confused expressions. Mike didn't hold back.

"What exactly are we looking at here?"

Dustin's composure held, much too elated and content with his camp experiences to let the lack of enthusiasm dwindle his spirits.

"An unassembled one-of-a-kind battery-powered radio tower."

"So, it's a..." Will stammered, trying to hide his confusion rather poorly. "a ham radio."

"The Cadillac of ham radios." Dustin reassures. "This baby carries a crystal-clear connection over vast distances. I'm talking North Pole to South."

Y/n's eyebrows shot up, a factor Dustin did not fail to miss and his chest swelled a little with pride at what she said next.

"Wait, seriously?" She looks between Mike and Will before back to her brother. "And you made this?"

He straightens immediately, his chin hiking as he sends his sister a nod. She returns her attention to the bag, eyes carefully scanning the pieces in thought. Y/n the most of all unprepared for what he had to say next.

"Yep. And I can talk to my girlfriend whenever and wherever I choose."

Y/n's head was suddenly ripped away from the bag at a speed so quick it was a wonder she didn't break her neck, her eyes growing the size of saucers to rival everyone else's.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Max and Lucas stand hunched over a tupperware of Kraft Mac & Cheese they had fished from the refrigerator, both of them fighting over territory with their own forks as the sea of macaroni quickly disappeared. Max takes a big bite, her eyes fluttering closed as she enjoys the impromptu lunch.

Lucas hums along with her, nodding his head as he thoroughly enjoys the cold leftovers. He shakes his head, defeated.

"This is pretty damn good," he admits.

Max hums an agreement, scooping up another small mountain of noodles as she does so.

"Wish we could have asked Y/n to heat it up for us though," Lucas frowns.

Max shoves the comment aside in her mind, and rolls her eyes. "There's a microwave right there,"

He shrugs innocently, his voice almost sad. "I know, but it's not as quick."

"Think we should save—"

Max stops midsentence when the sound of Y/n's muted voice echoes throughout the house

"WHAT?"

Lucas and Max freeze, even their jaws stop chewing as they frown in the direction her voice had come from. Slowly their heads turn to meet in an unsettled and worried gaze.

She couldn't know they were eating all her food, right?

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Wait, so her name is Suzie?" Mike asks, close on Dustin's tail.

Backpack slung over his shoulders, Dustin coasts down the hallway, heading straight of the living room leaving the others not much time to catch up. Each of them had agreed to take sections of the cerebro in exchange for more information and a chance at talking to her if they helped him set up.

"Suzie with a 'z'," Dustin confirms, his heart fluttering at the thought of the girl he already missed dearly. "She's from Utah."

Without thinking, Will blurts out. "Girls go to science camp?"

And without missing a beat, Y/n sends him a bewildered and exasperated look as they scurry to stay on Mike and El's heels.

"You were single-handedly raised by Joyce Byers, how is it you keep asking things like this?"

Flustered at his mistake, he shakes his head and a sharp pang of guilt and embarrassment landed in his gut. Frantically, he shakes his head.

"No, sorry, that came out—" he sputters, shaking his head. "I meant there were girls there? Like wouldn't they keep them separate?"

Y/n sends him a flat and unimpressed look as her gaze slinks away from him and towards Dustin waiting for his answer.

"Yes and no." Dustin replies quickly, heading for the door much to the confusion of Lucas and Max who were still elbow deep in Mac & Cheese. "It's a boy/girl camp, but they house us separately, obviously."

"Is she cute?" Mike asks, genuinely excited for his friend.

"Think Phoebe Cates, only hotter."

El sends a confused glance to Y/n, silently asking for help. "Phoebe Gates?"

Y/n shrugs, swallowing the light hearted chuckle that came with El's mispronunciation. Easing her worry away, Y/n quickly mumbled. "A TV person." Which promoted a small, knowing nod from El as it clicked in her head.

"What's going on?" Max asked finally, as she straightened curiously.

One by one they began filing out the front door. El, Will, and Y/n the last to leave as each they lugged their own section of the cerebro. Y/n grew visibly exuberant as she all but skipped out of the door, the brightest spark of mischief dancing in her eyes.

"We're going to talk to Dustin's girlfriend."

Simultaneously, their forks dropped with a muted clang. Lucas, who up until this very moment had been quite invested in the Mac & Cheese sprang up from where he towered over the counter. Much too eagerly in fact as the back of his skull quickly met the underside of the hanging cupboards. And yet he was too stunned to care.

"—Girlfriend?"

"—Girlfriend?"

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[jjmaybankx]

FEEL THAT LOVE | FOUR · SPHALLOLALIA

JJ MAYBANK FANFICTION MASTERLIST

< THREE

FOUR ❀☼❀ SPHALLOLALIA .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*

sphallolalia (n.) flirtatious talk that leads nowehere.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

THEY RAISED SOME EYEBROWS ON THE FIGURE EIGHT THE NEXT MORNING.

"Is that Mr. Mac's daughter riding in with a Pogue boy? The one with the deadbeat Dad?" Rose Cameron asked Wheezie as they watched as JJ hopped off the boat, docking it while Brielle grabbed her things and came out.

Hearing Rose speak the way she did was golden, mainly because she herself had been a Pogue growing up.

"I guess," shrugged Wheezie, acting like she didn't care, but a smirk formed on her face as she ran towards the house to tell her sister what she just saw.

JJ raised an eyebrow over at Brielle as they walked towards their house in silence, but of course he opted to say nothing. Despite being dumb, he wasn't dumb enough to realize that there was a reason for her sudden appearances with his group.

"It's been a while since I've seen the inside of this beauty," JJ commented as they walked up the pathway to her house.

"You saw it once," Brielle reminded him.

"Yeah, like... last summer or whatever," he sighed. "Brings back memories."

"Shut up," Brielle said with a chuckle, unlocking the front door. "We don't talk about that, remember? Poor lapse in both of our judgements, that what you said it was, right?"

"Chill, Kook. What's gotten your panties in a twist?"

Their conversation was cut off when they got into the house. Instantly, their noses were hit with different aromas, the house smelling amazing.

"Hi, anak," Danielle Macatangay said when her daughter walked inside, pressing her cheek to her daughter's in a half kiss. She pulled away to send JJ a smile, "JJ, it's been a while."

JJ nodded with a polite smile, standing behind Brielle with his hands folded in front of him.

"It feel like it's been a while since we've seen our daughter," Kent said, hugging his kid. "She's always off somewhere that isn't here."

"JJ! Right on time, let me show you where the lawn mower is, son," Kent said, putting a hand on his shoulder as he escorted JJ right back out the front door.

"That boy hasn't been around in about a year," Danielle said, a smirk on her face as she looked at her daughter. "Not since I cau—"

"Mom," exclaimed Brielle, feeling heat rush to her cheeks. Was everyone going to bring up the summer before sophomore year? "Stop it!"

"Okay, okay," Danielle laughed, putting her hands up defensively.

"Why did dad even ask JJ to come over to mow the lawn? We usually do that ourselves." Brielle asked as she and her mother went into the kitchen. Brielle was confused as to why there was more kitchen hands than just Yaya Dettie there.

"We're throwing a party tomorrow night," her mom shrugged. "Your dad needed someone to mow the lawn while he sets up the rest of the arrangements."

Brielle's face contorted in confusion. "Why are we having a party? Shouldn't you guys be busy with midsummers coming up? I thought we were catering."

"Because it's your Tito Dario's last few days before he goes back home to the Philippines," she said, looking away from her daughter as she spoke. "So, tomorrow is party, then we have midsummers, and yes, we are catering with the help of Heyward's Seafood. You have your dress for that already, yes? We need to get you one for tomorrow, too."

Tito Dario, her mom's cousin from the Philippines. He had been visiting them since she was younger, spending a month or two in the Outer Banks before heading back home.

"Who's coming to this party?" Brielle asked, paying more attention to the kitchen hands. They were marinating meats and cutting up fruits, likely the only beforehand prep that they could do as far as catering.

"Most of our neighbors," her mom said, shrugging. "The Camerons, Carreras, Thortons..."

"What about Kie's friends?" Brielle asked just as the sound of their lawn mower turned on. "You know, like the blonde outside cutting our grass?"

Her mom's expression fell, and she grabbed her daughter's face in her hands. "Oh, sweetie, you know I like your friends, it's just... they're not like us."

"And what is like us?" Brielle asked.

"I'm sorry, baby," her mom said, not answering her question, turning around to walk away. "Be sure to find an outfit for tomorrow night!"

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

JJ walked behind Kent Macatangay, following him to the shed. When Kent had asked him to come over to mow their lawn, he thought it was a little bit peculiar. If there was one thing he knew about the Macatangays, it was that they barely paid other people to do things for them.

"So, last time I saw you, it was a year ago," Kent said, and JJ looked up from his glance at the grass. "Climbing out of my daughter's window."

JJ looked right back down, his face turning red.

"Which is why I specifically wanted you to mow our lawn," he said, opening the door to the shed for JJ. "Just because you turn red like that."

Kent Macatangay was anything was discrete and anything but subtle.  

"Not going to lie, when Brielle started to ask if she can hang out with Kiara more, Dani and I wondered if you had anything to do with it," Kent expressed to him, looking at him with a suspicious glare.

"N-no sir," JJ shook his head, intimidated by the father in front of him. "I'm hardly around while she's with Kie, she only spent a few days with all of us."

Kent nodded, but the look on his face showed he wasn't reassured.

"Alright, well, I'll be back in about an hour. Got some errands to run, and I'll have your money," Kent said, patting JJ's shoulder. "Lighten up, son. I'm not going to kill you. Yet. The machete is still in the storage."

As Kent walked away, JJ's eyes widened in fear. He looked back to his to see him shaking his head and chuckling, probably proud he was able to give JJ a proper fright. He started up the lawn mower and got right to work.

As he got towards the front of the house, he looked at the top window with the balcony that was to the right of the front door. Brielle's bedroom window, which had a very convenient and climbable tree next to it. He chuckled at the memory of slipping from the tree, landing back first on the soft grass below.

The curtain above moved, and he saw a flash of dark brown hair. He shook his head, realizing that Brielle had been up there looking out at him until he glanced up, too.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Brielle was in the kitchen with Yaya Dettie and the other kitchen hands helping prepare the fruits. She glanced out the window to see JJ still working, the hot hair causing him to slip out of his shirt. Instead of taking it off fully, the material sat scrunched up on his shoulders, his head still through the head hole of the shirt.

He stopped to wipe his forehead with his arm, and Brielle sighed. She walked up to the counter near the window. Her short frame could barely reach the window, so she lifted her body onto the countertop and pulled the window open. She pressed her face closer and shouted, "JJ!"

He looked over, turning off the lawn mower, the two even gaining the attention to the kitchen hands.

She waved him over, but he shook his head.

"I'm working!"

"Take a break!" she yelled back.

JJ shook his head again, and she huffed as he turned the lawn mower back on. She grumbled, closing the window and hopping off the counter. She grabbed a plastic tumbler cup, filling it with ice and water, before she grabbed a bowl and filled it with the different fruits they had been cutting up.

"What are you doing?" Yaya Dettie asked her.

"It's hot out there," Brielle shrugged. "He'll die of heatstroke."

She was over-exaggerating, but she still took the cup and bowl outside anyways. She winced when her body hit the warm, humid Outer Banks air, a harsh contrast to her air conditioned house. It smelt of grass outside, and she walked off to the side of JJ so that cut grass didn't get all over her.

He stopped the lawn mower at the sight of her, leaning an arm against it as he smirked.

"Awe, for me, babe?" he teased.

She scrunched up her face, handing him the water. He took it with a thank you, take a long sip before she stepped closer. He picked up pieces of fruit, chewing them gratefully. It was a peaceful silence, one the pair hardly found themselves in. Even with the occurrence of last summer, their favorite past time would always be to bicker. And then when that burned out as fast as it was lit, their bickering just intensified.

"Don't babe me," she snapped at him.

"Just admit it, you can't resist me, that's why you just had to come out here and look at me shirtless. It's okay, babe. I get it," JJ joked.

Anyone that passed by them when it was just the two of them wouldn't be too crazy to assume there was something going on between them. Apart from the constant sphallolalia, they flirted with a lot more than just meaningless words. JJ's everlasting smirk and wiggling eyebrows and Brielle's failure to conceal a smile said more than any amount of "babe" could.

Their moment was cut short. Loud music could be heard along with the sound of a car's engine. Their heads snapped to the car pulling into her driveway, and she stepped a little closer to JJ.

JJ's face contorted with confusion as he saw the rental car and an unknown person step out of it. The man sent a smile over to the teens when he saw them staring, and goosebumps ran up Brielle's entire body.

"Elle! It's hot, no? Why you wearing pantalons?" the man asked her, his thick Filipino accent coming across as he spoke.

"I like pants," she replied, her voice small as she looked away from him, but she felt his glance scorching through her.

He came up, and she took yet another small step towards JJ. The blonde was puzzled by her actions, unaccustomed to Brielle feeling so small in front of him. Normally, her confidence and loud personality was the first thing he was able to notice about her, but her vibes went down the minute the car pulled up.

"Hi, I'm her Tito Dario," the man said, putting a hand out for JJ.

Glancing down between his extended hand and Brielle, who was even closer to him now, JJ placed his free hand into his, shaking it. He was still holding the cut that Brielle had given him.

"JJ," the blonde said. "Nice to meet you, sir."

Dario nodded, looking at Brielle's expressionless face. He grabbed her chin, making him look up at him.

"Smile, Elle. Frowning makes you pangit, diba?"

She shook her head out of his gasp, still silent. He chuckled, brushing it off as he wandered into the house.

She let out a huff of an exhale, both of her hands going to grip the fruit bowl.

JJ knew abuse when he saw it, the signs and the tells of someone who was trying to pretend to not be terrified out of their mind.

"Kookie?" he whispered, leaning his head closer down to her as she looked down, her knuckles turning white. "Kookie?"

Without getting an answer from her, he pried the fruit bowl out of her hands and placed it on the floor, careful to make sure it didn't tip over into the grass.

"C'mere, Kookie," he said softly again, pulling her towards himself.

One of his hands wrapped around her shoulders while the other went to her hair, bringing her face into his chest.

FIVE >