#watched yesterday what an experience *sigh* rebecca is so pretty

[arachniasbride]

Satanic Panic (2019) dir. Chelsea Stardust

[raleighcarrera]

oh girl it’s loving Jake hours here 24/7 so uhhhhh if you still want prompts how about Best Experience/Worst Experience for him & ur MC 👀

best vs. worst prompts / 28. best experience vs. worst experience

the worst experience 

thinking that taylor is dead is pretty fucking bad.

in fact, it’s just about the worst thing that’s ever happened to him, and he hasn’t exactly had a good run of things. 

the whole experience is miserable -- from the moment they share their last kiss to the way her hand slips out of his no matter how tightly he holds on, to how he has to force himself to do the right thing and help her along on her mission.

he doesn’t want to, is the thing. he wants to stop her from doing this -- this stupid, brave, heroic sacrifice. he wants to beg her to reconsider, to find another way. they can take the deal and bring everyone back and maybe things won’t be perfect but they’ll be together, won’t they, and then -- 

jesus christ, they’ll figure it out like they have with everything else.

but she doesn’t give him that option. it all happens so quickly, and then she’s gone, and they’re back to their regular lives and everything is perfect except that there’s a giant fucking hole in his heart that he isn’t sure how he’s supposed to live with.

it’s impossible not to dwell. he listens to her voicemail more times than he can count, sitting and stewing over everything that happened and everything that could’ve been. through it all -- the trial, being pardoned, moving back home and seeing his mom and sister again -- he goes over the what ifs until they threaten to drive him crazy.

most of the time it just feels like life is happening around him. 

he’s drifting aimlessly, watching things happen to other people while feeling so lost himself part of him wonders every day if he made the right decision, not doing more to stop her. 

and it’s strange to finally have all the things he thought would make him happy -- the truth, out there for everyone, a permanent place to settle, being with his his family -- and still be so utterly miserable every day.

that is until...

the best experience 

...there’s a knock at his door one random tuesday in june.

no one is home but him. rebecca and his mother have been doing their best to give him his space, though he knows their patience has to be wearing thin, too. “it’s been almost a year, jake,” becca had whispered to him on one particularly bad evening, as though he had any understanding of time anymore or cared.

through the worst time of his life, he hadn’t even dared to hope that things would be different. for all their promises to find each other in any dimension, any time loop, any lifetime -- her goodbye had felt pretty final. and he wasn’t an idiot.

so that’s why it feels like seeing a ghost when he opens the front door and sees taylor standing there, in the same little cutoffs and tank top she was wearing when they kissed for the last time on la huerta.

“hi,” she squeaks out, already choked up. those big, blue eyes of hers are wet with tears. her hands twist anxiously in front of her.

his jaw drops to the floor. the same time that had been so cruel to him and dragged on so slowly for the last nine months now stands completely still, the pounding of his own heart like kick drums in his ears. “taylor?”

she nods. her bottom lip trembles. “uh huh. it’s me. jake, i --”

“it can’t be.” he shakes his head, lifting a hand to rub at his eyes. this is a trick, it has to be. he watched her disappear into the sky, he saw her leave. “you can’t be taylor, she...”

...is still there, crying on his porch. jesus, okay. 

“jake,” she breathes again, and that crumples the last of his resolve. he’s only human, and she’s here -- however she is and whatever she is. 

he stumbles forward to pull her into his arms and wraps her up in the biggest hug he’s capable of, squeezing her body to his. taylor is warm and solid in his arms, smelling like sunshine and snow in equal measures. a vivid sensory memory smacks him in the face near-immediately, hurtling him right back to that last goodbye.

“fuck.” now he’s emotional, too. “i don’t understand, how did you --”

“me either,” she rushes to answer shakily, pulling back enough to see his face, cupping his jaw reverently in her hands. “i wasn’t supposed to, i should’ve stayed... but... yesterday i woke up at home like nothing happened and i -- i had to see you, but i never thought... god, jake, it feels like i’ve been gone for a hundred years, i didn’t know if you’d be here or if you’d be --”

he cuts her off with a kiss, the kiss he’s been dreaming about since the last one ended and he watched her disappear. taylor makes a sound against his mouth like she’s drowning and he greedily pulls her in closer, dragging her through the doorway and kicking it closed behind her back so there’s a flat surface for him to take advantage of, letting her get her legs up around his waist. 

“jake,” she sighs between kisses, her hands yanking at his hair and keeping him anchored to this moment when it feels like his mind is racing a mile a minute, trying to process the emotional whiplash that has his heart feeling like it’s about to explode. “oh my god, i missed you so much.”

“i missed you every -- fucking -- day, taylor, fuck,” he gasps, squeezing her so tightly there’s no way she’s going anywhere, this time. 

except for when they lose track of time again, somehow, and the door behind her back gives way what might be ten minutes or an hour later, sending them both tumbling forward onto the floor.

his sister blinks down at the both of them in surprise, but taylor’s hand never leaves his, keeping their fingers intertwined even as she climbs off of him apologetically. he’s sure they look the very picture of debauchery, if his hair is as mussed and his eyes are as wild as taylor’s are, her lips kiss-bitten and swollen.

“okay, wow,” rebecca says slowly, looking just as confused as he feels. that taylor hasn’t disappeared in a puff of smoke yet feels far too good to be true. 

he already knows he won’t be able to sleep a wink tonight -- that he’ll spend the entire evening staring at her, just in case. 

“i feel like you must be -- taylor?” she asks, and he watches as taylor’s teeth sink into her bottom lip and she nods, slowly and carefully. “well -- okay. i mean, i have a lot of questions, but...”

her eyes slide to jake, her eyebrows lifting curiously. “i’ll let you guys finish catching up first. jesus, mom is going to flip. you’d better be ready for dinner in two hours.”

[wellhellsbelles]

to the rhythm of your wild heart, chapter 1

next chapter for y’all! it’s about as much as i have written so far, but i figured i’d post it since i had it. i’ll keep working on it, but for the meantime i have no idea when the next update will be. i’ll still work on it, though! as always, thanks to all who read my stuff :)

“And you’re sure you have your passport?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“And enough clothes for two weeks?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“And plenty of money on you? Because I wanted to make sure—”

“Dad!!!”

link for ao3 or read below

Riley

“And you’re sure you have your passport?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“And enough clothes for two weeks?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“And plenty of money on you? Because I wanted to make sure—”

“Dad!!!”

“You are being a little bit of a helicopter parent right now, honey,” Topanga interjected, patting her husband’s back sympathetically. “Riley will be just fine. Farkle will be there to watch her, won’t you Farkle?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Farkle replied, holding a hand over his heart and one up, palm-forward, “I promise.”

“And you’ll do the same thing for our Farkle, right?” Jennifer, Farkle’s mother, asked. Riley nodded her head.

“We’ll both watch out for each other, as always.”

“Good. Now, then, I believe some goodbyes are in order?” Farkle’s dad Stuart said.

Topanga and Cory pulled their daughter in for a hug at the same time Stuart and Jennifer did their son, squeezing tightly as they said their goodbyes.

“Now, you’ll call us if you need anything, right?” Topanga asked.

“Of course, Mom.”

“And you’ll listen to the chaperone?” Cory warned. Riley rolled her eyes, pointedly ignoring him.

“I love you both, and I’ll see you soon. Okay?”

“We love you, too.”

They all finished hugging and Riley and Farkle picked up their luggage, waving goodbye as they entered the airport. They scanned the crowded area for their group, only locating them once they found a sign sticking in the air that had “Abigail Adams High” scrawled neatly across it. Ms. Moretti, their Italian teacher for the last few years, was at the center, directing students sporadically.

“Alright, settle down! I need to start taking attendance to make sure everyone is here! When I call your name, please say ‘Here.’ Abelson, Karri?”

“Here.”

“Bradford, Missy?”

“Here.”

“Missy is here?!” Riley huffed under her breath to Farkle. Farkle just shrugged, unaffected. Missy Bradford had it out for Riley since middle school when Riley won over Lucas, and even though Riley and Lucas had broken up a long while ago, it had since been as if it was her God-given right to make Riley’s life miserable.

“It can’t get any worse, at least,” Farkle offered, but he couldn’t be more wrong.

“Gardener, Charlie?”

“Here!”

“Merde,” Riley cursed, her brow furrowed.

“I believe it’s ‘merda’ in Italian,” Farkle told her, and Riley shot him a look of disdain. “Sorry.”

“Whatever. It can’t be too bad. Besides, Charlie’s let up quite a bit since we’ve been in high school. Isn’t he dating Rebecca?” she asked quietly. Farkle shook his head.

“I heard they broke up before graduation.”

“Matthews, Riley?”

“Oh, come on!” Riley exclaimed loudly, much to Ms. Moretti’s chagrin. She looked at Riley pointedly before carrying on to Farkle and then the remainder of the list. Farkle patted her back.

“There, there. We’ll get through this. It’s only two weeks, after all.”

“I bet there’s a lot of terrible things in history that lasted ‘only two weeks’,” Riley grunted.

After Ms. Moretti finished the roster, they waited for the final two students to appear, then moved toward the bag check together. The wait for the bag check line was about fifteen minutes, and once they dropped off their big bags, they headed straight for the security check line. Riley wanted to groan from the amount of waiting they had to do for each part of the airport, but luckily Farkle was there to entertain her the whole time, and it was almost enough for her to forget about the process altogether.

The security check was quicker than Riley thought it was going to be, and as soon as she was through, she and Farkle left to find their gate. Riley had her ticket out, searching for gate ‘G’ as Farkle flipped through his Italian history book he’d brought along, reading aloud the “interesting” facts about Rome that Riley honestly couldn’t give a single flip about.

“Did you know that by the early fourth century, the Romans had built a network of roads 53,000 miles throughout the entire Roman empire? It’s where we get the phrase “All roads lead to Rome”. Pretty cool stuff, huh?”

“No offense, Farkle, but I do not care. Where is gate G even at?” she asked, frustrated. Farkle pointed ahead of them.

“Right there, Ms. Buzzkill,” he deadpanned. Riley narrowed her eyes at him and Farkle returned the favor, sticking his tongue out at her before guiding them towards their gate. They joined the rest of their classmates, sitting on the floor beside them since there were no open seats around.

“Guys, we’re going to the land where they invented spaghetti!” Yogi shouted as they joined them.

“And concrete!” Farkle added, but no one seemed to be as excited about that fact as he was.

“You tried,” Riley offered sympathetically when he noticeably deflated, “They’re intellectual heathens.” Farkle looked at her amusedly for a moment as the rest of the group carried on conversation, talking about all the food they’d encounter in Rome.

“Okay, there’s one thing I didn’t cover,” Farkle initiated conversation a second later.

“Shoot,” Riley said, preparing herself for another Farkle speech on ancient Rome. Instead, he said,

“Who gets the window seat?” Riley smirked.

“Oh, me for sure.”

“Uh, definitely not, Matthews. I am definitely going to have the window seat. In fact, I call “shotgun” on the window seat,” Farkle grinned, determined.

“Shotgun on a window seat? Does that even work?”

“It does now.”

Riley shook her head.

“I don’t think so, Minkus. Let’s settle this with a classic game of rock, paper, scissors, and the best two out of three wins. Sound fair?”

Farkle wasn’t as sold on the idea, but he knew it was the only way they were going to settle the affair. So rock, paper, scissors it was.

Too bad he was never good at games of chance.

“Ha. I win the window seat!” Riley celebrated. Farkle pouted.

“Fine. But I get it on the way back, you cheater.”

“I didn’t cheat! You’re just a sore loser,” Riley wrinkled her nose.

Right as Farkle was preparing his rebuttal, their gate was called for boarding. Their whole group lined up in their designated location and patiently waited until they began scanning the tickets, allowing the passengers to pass through. Riley and Farkle were at the tail end of their line, speeding off to catch up with their group as soon as they were given the okay-go.

As they climbed aboard the plane, a silent pact was made between the two of them to sit towards the back, not too close to the wing of the plane, but not too close to the last row of seats. Riley took the window seat as was her reward and Farkle settled next to her, buckling his seatbelt as she buckled hers. His leg bobbed up and down in excitement while the rest of the passengers boarded, and Riley echoed the sentiment in her rapidly beating heart.

They were going to Italy. Italy! This was their big trip before heading to college in August, and she couldn’t believe it was all happening so fast. It felt like it was only just yesterday that her, Farkle, Maya, Lucas, Zay, and Smackle were graduating, only yesterday that Maya and she made a pact to have the greatest summer ever, that they went on the road trip to end all road trips. Now it felt like she had blinked and everything was about to end.

It was sort of hard to come to terms with that.

Things were changing regardless of whether or not Riley liked it. She really never was one for change, but she was going to have to accept that she was growing up, and life wasn’t going to be the same as it was in middle school or high school. She was going to encounter new experiences, new changes in her life.

But for now?

She’d rather just focus on Italy and what it had to offer her.

“Italy, here we come,” Riley breathed as they sat back, ready to take off.

 //

  Farkle

  Farkle woke up to the sun cascading on his face as it set, a heavy weight on his shoulder. He blinked groggily, yawning as he began to shift around in his seat, realizing once his eyes fully opened that the weight was Riley peacefully asleep against him. He tried to resist moving around more as to not disturb her, and he could hardly deny that it was cute and he didn’t want to disrupt that, either.

He’d keep his secrets to himself.

He cast his gaze out the window, trying best to see the view outside. Much to his surprise, land was in sight, and he could only conclude that they were close to their destination. Farkle moved his shoulder a touch, nudging Riley awake so she wouldn’t miss out on the breathtaking landscape below.

“Huh?” she muttered as she awoke, lifting her head at once. Farkle ignored the twang of hurt that rung in his chest from her absence, instead pointing out the window.

“Look,” he told her. She sat up even more in her seat, peering out beyond the glass.

“Wow,” she gasped, awestruck, “It’s beautiful.”

“I thought you might not want to miss it, especially since you cheated me out of the window seat,” Farkle jibed.

“Hey! Not true!” she exclaimed, ignoring Ms. Moretti’s pointed look from behind them. It was the morning after all, but Farkle knew Riley didn’t care. Besides, they were about to land soon, anyway.

Silence fell between them a moment as they continued to stare at the scenery below, and Riley was the first one to break it.

“Do you think two weeks is going to be long enough?” she asked, her voice quiet all of a sudden.

“Long enough for what?” he raised his brow at her.

“We’re going to be headed off for college so soon after. It just feels like everything is slipping by so quickly. I just want to be able to enjoy what little time we have left,” she explained with a sigh. Farkle reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing it a couple of times.

“Riley Matthews, I make this promise to you: we will have the best time ever, and this week we will use every minute we are given for adventure. We’ll make it last as long as we can.” Riley smiled at him, squeezing his hand right back.

“Thank you, Farkle.”

“Alright everyone, if you could, please buckle up as we prepare for landing,” the person over the intercom announced. Farkle released his grip on Riley’s hand and did as told, with Riley following suit.

This was it. Italy.

 //

 Everyone boarded off the plane once they were allowed, heading for baggage claim to grab their belongings. Ms. Moretti was barely heard over the chatter, shouting at them to group up once they had their things, but then getting drowned out by the excitement of everyone being in Rome.

After they found their suitcases, they met with Ms. Moretti and she led them towards the entrance of the airport, a bus already waiting for them. They all loaded onto it, and once everyone was in place, it headed toward the inner part of the city where their hotel was. And as it took off away from the airport, their mouths all drooped open in awe as the sights around took their breath away, a whole different scenery from the plane.

“Ooooh, Farkle! Look, look!” Riley kept pointing sporadically. Farkle smirked, leaning over to look out the window with her. Although he didn’t express it aloud, he was just as excited to see everything around.

They definitely weren’t in New York anymore, that was for sure.

Everything was modern and yet not. The architecture was gorgeous, still upholding a sort of ancient Rome feel. The setting sun allowed the lights of the city to become more noticeable, sparkling vividly like the stars on the clearest of nights.

“I wish we could start exploring already!” Riley bounced jubilantly.

“Me too, but I’m glad we have the night to settle in. I don’t think I could keep myself awake,” Farkle yawned. Riley puckered her lips.

“Didn’t you sleep all the way over here in the plane?”

Farkle shrugged.

“What can I say? I like my rest. Besides, someone snored in my ear half of the time, so I didn’t really get much sleep.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, crossing her arms.

“Whatever.”

Their eyes remained trained outside the window for the rest of the ride, getting a taste of all that they’d be exploring for the next couple of weeks to come. The bus slowed down once they were outside their hotel and everyone grabbed their belongings, rolling suitcases inside the concrete arches adorned by the archway to the building.

Ms. Moretti went to the desk to retrieve the keys for the hotel rooms while everyone stood idly by. She then returned, keys in one arm and clipboard in the other, gesturing for everyone to gather around.

“Alright, alright! Quiet down! I’m going to give you your room assignments. When I call your name, come grab your keys and then stand next to your roommate!”

Farkle and Riley waited patiently as the names were announced, tapping their feet gently on the ground while listening out for their names. Riley was called first before Farkle, but not before her partner’s name was called.

“Missy Bradford,” Ms. Moretti said, “You’ll be rooming with Riley Matthews.”

Riley perked up immediately at that, casting a horrified look at Farkle. He felt bad for her as he watched her step up to get her key to her room and then shuffle off to the side with Missy, her face looking like she had met the end of the world.

Farkle had to admit, it was a little funny, though.

His amusement passed as soon as it arrived when Ms. Moretti called out his name in junction with Charlie Gardner’s. A guttural noise escaped his throat as he walked to grab his key, mouth puckered in dismay at Riley and his terrible luck.

“End me,” Farkle whispered as he sidled up next to Riley.

“Remember earlier, when you said it ‘can’t get any worse’ and then Charlie ended up being a part of our group?” Riley whispered back. Farkle nodded his head. “Well, this is worse than that.”

Farkle threw his arms up in the air, exasperated, but didn’t complain any further. He was going to have to deal with a whole two weeks of Charlie Gardner, so he had to tamper it down and just let it all out when the trip was over.

Ugh. Two freaking weeks!

Ms. Moretti finished giving out keys to the group and instructed them to drop their stuff off in their rooms first, and then they’d be allowed to wander around the hotel for a bit before curfew at midnight. Farkle and Riley made a silent pact to meet up with each other once they were finished, heading up the stairs with their belongings after to find their rooms. Charlie made small talk with Farkle as they looked for their room (which Farkle didn’t mind), but it ended abruptly once they found and were inside their room, right when the door closed behind Farkle.

“So, Riley—” Charlie started, and Farkle threw his head back with a groan.

“No, we are not doing this.”

“I just want to see if you can get her to talk to me!” Charlie exclaimed. Farkle shot him a look of disdain.

“Absolutely not. She’s not interested.”

“How do you know?” Charlie asked. Farkle crossed his arms, rolling his eyes.

“She’s my best friend, Charlie. I know. Trust me on this.”

Charlie stared back at him, unconvinced.

“Are you saying that because you’re interested?”

Farkle gawked at him.

“What?!”

Charlie shrugged.

“You heard me. Is that why you’re being so protective of her? Because you like her?”

Farkle breathed, disgruntled at his situation. He wondered if Riley was faring any better with Missy. She probably was, considering Missy most definitely wasn’t talking to her.

“Alright, here’s the deal. One, Riley’s not interested in your advances, and I know that because I’m her best friend. And two, maybe instead you can try to be her friend? That’s usually a good first step. Now do you mind? I’ve got places to be.”

Farkle left the room without waiting for Charlie’s response, desperate to just get away.

Unfortunately for him, that wasn’t the first time any guy had approached him about his girl friends. On multiple occasions has he been flagged down to see if Maya, Riley, and Smackle were free, and Farkle managed each time to slip away, tired of having to face stupid teenage boys and their advances on his friends.

Farkle made his way back down the stairs, hopeful that Riley had escaped her room so that the two of them could just hang out on their first night in Rome. Of course, part of his wanting to be around her was due solely to his social anxiety, but the other part was truly because he wanted as much time to hang out with his best friend before their time together waned for the near future.

“Oh, Farkle. Thank god,” Riley sighed with relief once he was back in the lobby, “You have no idea what five minutes of hell I’ve been through.”

“I think I definitely have some clue,” Farkle said. “Can you believe Charlie wants to see if you’ll go out with him?”

Riley buried her head in her hands.

“I think he’s built me up on a pedestal. I’m not that good of a person.”

Farkle tugged on a lock of her hair, smiling.

“I beg to differ.”

Riley chuckled.

“Your opinion is null. You’re biased because you’re my friend.” 

“Are you saying that’s a bad thing?” he raised his brow. She shook her head, linking arms with him.

“Nope, not at all. Now, Mr. Minkus, care to explore the hotel with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask, Ms. Matthews,” he smirked, allowing her to lead the way.

 Together, Riley and Farkle ventured every nook and cranny of the hotel, disturbing some of the guests in the process who had already gone to bed. Farkle felt a little bad, but he didn’t regret the laughter that erupted from within him from spending time with Riley. Also, it was hard to deny that it was funny when an adult stepped out and shot them a nasty look, only for Farkle and Riley to apologize and then make fun of them as soon as they shut the door.

Being in Italy was like being a kid again. It felt kind of cathartic in a way, feeling no pressures of school and being completely unattached to the world around him. Spending time alone with his best friend while the world was theirs to conquer.

Farkle missed those days terribly.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, Farkley?” Riley prodded him after his laughter died down, leaving them in a bout of silence.

“I was just thinking that this is like when we were younger. Remember when me, you, and Maya would spend every summer day at the park and your mom had to practically drag us away from the monkey bars? You were so determined to make it across,” he chuckled, recalling the memory fondly.

“I did do it once. I wasn’t going to give up on that, especially since Sarah had teased me about it each year.”

“And when you finally did figure it out, your mom was really impressed. I think that was when she realized that you got a lot from her, too.”

“I’m still every bit as much Cory’s daughter. It makes him proud, like he has his own little mini-me or something,” Riley joked before stopping dead in her tracks. “Ooh, let’s check this out!”

Riley pulled Farkle onto what appeared to be a large stretch of balcony off the fourth floor of the hotel. A slight breeze danced through the air, the city below them illuminated by the light of the moon.

“Wow,” Farkle said, sucking in a breath of fresh air, “Every time I think Rome can’t get any more beautiful, I’m proven wrong. I’m so glad we went on this trip.”

Farkle walked closer to the concrete railing guarding them from the drop below, watching intently as everyone moved around below by the dim of the streetlights. Riley joined him, beaming.

“And glad that I forced you to take Italian with me the past couple of years?”

Farkle snorted.

“That, too. Though, I already knew a few languages and my options were limited, but I would’ve chosen it, anyway. You’re my friend. That’s already enough to get me to do things.”

Riley looked away from Farkle bashfully, her cheeks dusting a light pink that was noticeable enough by the moonlight.

“Sometimes, I think you’re too much of a pushover for your own good, Farkle Minkus,” Riley told him, leaning her head upon his shoulder. He hummed, not denying that fact one bit.

They stood there for a long while, letting a comfortable silence fall between them as they continued gazing at the wonderful city below them. Then, Farkle said something so quiet that almost he didn’t quite hear it, but the words were still there.

“I’d do anything for you, Riley Matthews.”

Even he could barely grasp the depths to which he cared for her, maybe a little more than he could understand at that very moment, but he knew he was fond of her. Nothing could change that, not even growing up.

His heart would forever remain hers to some degree, and Farkle thought to himself that he could live with that.

It always was and always would be—no amount of distance could change that fact, either.

[taglist for this fic: @hisanas]

[anyone else who wants to be on the taglist for this fic, let me know! :) ]

[randomlifeunit]

“When the Bough Breaks…Your Face”

A Whumptober 2020 fic by me 😁

Featuring: My OCs, Jonathan, Angela, Sean, and Rebecca; an out-of-the-way place; and some good old fashioned hurt/comfort.

Rating: Teen and Up

Warnings: Blood mention, anxiety, bruises, injury

Chapter 5

Previous chapter

The early light of dawn was beginning to filter through the bedroom curtains when Sean opened his eyes. Yawning, he looked at his phone to see what time it was. Too early, he thought, but his stomach had other ideas as it let out the beginnings of a growl. Next to him, Rebecca was dead to the world, and he really didn’t want to wake her after everything that had happened yesterday. Creeping carefully out of bed, he stepped softly out of the room, grabbing his backpack as quietly as he could on the way out.

Stepping out of the shower, he got dressed and toweled off his hair. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a blotch of blood on the handle of the faucet at the sink. Dread pooled in his gut as he stared at it for a long moment before he shuddered and turned away. Tamping down a small flicker of nausea that tried to surface, he gathered his things and stuffed them in his bag, making for the kitchen next. It was still silent in the living area, so he assumed Jonathan and Angela were sleeping, too. He wondered how Jonathan was doing.

At the kitchen sink, he scoured his hands with soap and hot water, trying to rid himself of the phantom sensation of dried blood under his fingernails. With a heavy exhale, he dried off and checked the fridge and cupboards to see what they held. A peanut butter sandwich was what he decided on for his immediate needs. At the table, his own chewing sounded loud in his ears. There wasn’t a sound beyond an occasional burst of birdsong from outside. The first rays of sunlight slanted into the windows, giving him a feeling of warmth and contentment.

Deciding he wanted to treat his friends when they woke up, he went back into the kitchen to start a breakfast casserole. He found eggs, bacon, potatoes, and cheese, and dug a casserole dish out of the lower cupboards. Preheating the oven, he started cooking the bacon and dicing potatoes.

Soon the dish was in the oven, and he set a timer on his phone so he wouldn’t forget to check it later. He stretched out on the couch and slowly drifted off to sleep.

*************************

Jonathan woke with a groan later that morning. Glancing over in the bed, he saw Angela was already awake and looking at him. “Morning,” he yawned, trying for a smile, but it ended in a wince. He groaned again and lifted his right hand to explore the left side of his face.

“How are you feeling, Babe?” Angela asked, watching him with concern.

“Awful,” he moaned, “But I could get used to waking up to your pretty face every morning,” he added, as he reached out to run his fingers through her hair.

She blushed. “Aw, you say the nicest things.” She put her hand out, uncertain for a moment, then ran her fingertips along the right side of his face, making sure not to touch the injured side. “You sure got hit hard, Hon,” she said softly, pressing a kiss to the side of his lips. “You had me worried there for awhile.”

“Yeah, but was it really necessary to keep waking me up all night? A little uninterrupted sleep would have been nice,” he complained.

“Yes, it really was necessary,” Angela answered, her lips quirking into a smile.

“Ugh, you’re the worst,” he groused, without any real heat behind the words.

“Well, somebody’s got to look after you, you big oaf,” she teased, scooting closer to snuggle into his right side. He curled his arm around her and chuckled, holding her close. “Man, I could really go for a cup of coffee right now,” he sighed, rubbing his temple with one hand. Angela squeezed his arm and scooted to the edge of the bed. “I assume they have some here. Want me to bring you some?” she asked. Jonathan experimented with a cautious one-sided stretch. “I need to get up anyway,” he said. “Could you give me a hand?” She came around to his side of the bed and helped him ease up into a standing position. “You good?” She asked, eyeing him as he stood in place, swaying subtly for just a moment. “Yeah, I think so,” he answered. “Just really sore. Hey, could you help me into a shirt?” She nodded and found one in his bag. “Hang on,” she put up a hand. “We should probably check on your shoulder, Babe.” He nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, and she leaned over to peek timidly under the bandage. “I think it looks okay,” she said, swallowing, brow furrowed in concentration. “Doesn’t look like it’s been bleeding much. We should probably change out the bandage later, though.” He hummed in agreement. Between the two of them, they managed to get the shirt on him, not without some grunts and groans on his part. He huffed out a breath when they finished, and Angela took him by the hand, leading him out to the living area.

“Mmm, something smells good,” she said appreciatively as they headed towards the kitchen. “Oops,” she stopped short as she saw Sean rousing from sleep on the couch. “Sorry, Sean, we didn’t know you were out here,” she said apologetically.

“That’s okay,” Sean mumbled, covering a wide yawn. “Hey, Jonathan, how are you feeling?” he asked, suddenly wide awake, sitting up quickly.

“Meh,” Jonathan answered noncomittally. “Better than yesterday, but damn, I’m sore.” He covered his left shoulder with his right hand, wincing. Sean nodded sympathetically. “I’m sorry,” he offered. His friend shrugged his good shoulder. “I’ll be all right. Right now, coffee is the priority.” He and Angela headed into the kitchen.

All three friends were just sitting down to eat the breakfast casserole when Rebecca emerged from the bedroom, yawning and running her fingers through her hair. Sean stood and crossed the room to her, leaning in to give her a hug and a quick kiss. “Good morning,” he smiled at her. She gave him a squeeze and a sleepy-eyed smile. “Morning, love,” she murmured. “Want some breakfast?” he asked her, putting an arm around her waist as they joined the other two at the table. “Mm, sure,” she answered, and he served her up some casserole.

Jonathan’s bruised cheek stood out in stark contrast to the rest of his face, and his injuries were the topic of conversation for awhile. He argued against leaving that day, wanting to at least enjoy the cabin they’d rented out, but Angela wanted to insist they leave as soon as possible. They finally came to a compromise by agreeing to at least wait till the early afternoon to make the decision to leave. Angela excused herself to go check on the horses, wanting to make sure they had plenty of feed and water, and give them some much-needed exercise.

Jonathan spent some time in front of the bathroom mirror, examining his face carefully. Damn, he thought. I really wrecked myself, didn’t I? He carefully touched along his left jaw and cheekbone, sucking in a breath in pain and wondering if anything might be broken after all. He’d assured his friends he’d be fine, but maybe that hadn’t been entirely accurate. Grimacing at his reflection, he thought about how it was his own bravado that got him into this situation. That was a really dumb move, he mused with a frown, feeling a stab of guilt in his chest. Flipping the light off, he exited the bathroom.

Next chapter

Link to my “Paralyzed” fic, for my OCs’ backstory.

[nailriddenbat]

Mayfield | Series - Pt. VI

Summary: Max Mayfield and Billy Hargrove aren’t the only new kids to step foot into Hawkins. Meet Y/N Mayfield, Max’s big sister, who’s here to make sure no one messes with her sister.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Mayfield!Reader (SLOW BURN)

Characters: Y/N Mayfield, Max Mayfield, Billy Hargrove, Rebecca Montgomery (OC)

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2.3k

Tags: TAGS HAVE BEEN MOVED TO THE END OF THE POST!

A/N: So Y/N gets some much needed comfort in this chapter. Everyone needs a friend to help them get through the tough stuff and Y/N is no different. I’m also super excited because there is some development and everything is going to go to shit right after this. sorry not sorry. ENJOY MY LOVES.

Parts: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X (FINALE) 

You laid out on your bed as you stared up at the ceiling. You had barely spoken since the previous day, when you had stupidly decided to tell your life story to Steve Harrington. You cried an obscene amount and Steve just stood with you until you pulled yourself away. He tried to get you to talk but you had urged him to leave and go make up with Nancy, and then you had run off and locked yourself in your room.

They say that talking about any life changing experience was supposed to help you heal, but what they don’t say is that sometimes reopening that wound hurts more than when you first got it.

Outside of your room you could hear music playing obnoxiously loud. Billy was home for the day working out while you and Max stayed in your respective rooms.

You heard a light knock on the door and turned your head, but you didn’t move from the bed. A few seconds later the door opened slowly and Max poked her head in. “You cool if I come in?”

You nodded your head and she stepped in, closing the door behind her. You turned your head around and looked back up at the ceiling and soon she joined you. You watched as she dropped the skateboard to your bed and you sat up quickly, “Jesus, kid. What’s with the duct tape?”

“You like it?” she grinned a little.

“Let me buy you a new one. Early Christmas gift and whatnot,” you sighed as you looked over at her.

“No, no,” she said. “I think it adds character to it.”

You laughed a little and dropped back down to your bed as she laid next to you.

“So are you going to tell me why you locked yourself up in your bedroom all night and day?” Max wasted no time in addressing your issue.

“Max, I hate unloading my shit onto you. You’re too young for my drama,” you turned your head to look at her.

“And you’re not old enough to be treating me like I’m some baby. I understand a lot more than anyone thinks I do,” Max went back at you.

“I hate that you’re so smart,” you groaned loudly and covered your face. “I told Steve about George.”

“What?” Max sat up straight in the bed and looked down at you with wide eyes. “Steve? Steve with the hair?”

“Yeah Steve with the hair,” you said yes and dropped your hands, not even noticing the small smile that had crossed your face for a brief second as you said his name.

“How’d it go?” Max asked you.

You shrugged, “Just peachy. I feel like an idiot for unloading that entire thing on him. I barely know who he is and I just... told him everything.”

“Well did he say anything to you?”

“Of course not, Max,” you snorted. “What the hell could anyone say to a story like that? He hugged me, said it wasn’t my fault, all that sentimental shit.”

“He’s right, Y/N. It’s not your fault,” Max agreed with Steve completely. 

“It’s not that simple,” you shook your head slowly.

You both turned your heads to the door when you heard the doorbell ring, but you both ignored it.

“How is it not that simple?” Max asked you.

You went to answer her question but the doorbell rang again. 

“Let me guess, I wouldn’t understand,” Max stood up from the bed and narrowed her eyes at you.

“Max I was not going to say that,” you sighed as you pushed yourself up from the bed. “Look...”

The doorbell continued to ring and soon you both could hear Billy scream, “Max are you getting that or what?”

“Okay!” Max screamed back at him.

The doorbell rang again and the two of you moved towards the door as Billy continued to scream, “Swear to God, Max!”

Max stomped forward at a faster pace than you and you dragged your feet. You leaned against the frame of the archway and looked over at Billy with a bored expression as he continued to do his reps. 

“Macho, macho man,” you sang under your breath, but it was loud enough for him to hear it. Your eyes darted up when you saw the front door close quickly. 

He glared over at you as he left his cigarette hanging from his lips.

“I’m pretty sure smoking while working out is not recommended,” you said to him.

“Do I look like I give a shit?”

“Clearly not,” you snorted. 

“Are you just gonna stand there and watch me the entire time?” Billy asked you as he leaned back.

“I’m actually hoping your hands slip and you drop the weight on your chest, that’s not something I’d want to miss,” you continued to taunt him. 

“Aw,” Billy smirked. “Are you saying you have a crush on me? That’s cute.  Too bad you’re a dead weight on this family, Mayfield. Oh wait... that’s Georgie.”

Your face twisted into the glare that was reserved just for him. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that?”

He ignored you as he set the weights down and then he stood up slowly, looking over at the door. You stood up straight and you felt your body grow tense. “Don’t you have more reps to do, Hargrove?”

He continued to ignore you and walked forward, popping up a beer can as he did.

You stepped forward quickly, ready to jump in front of him if he were to reach out for the door. Luckily you didn’t have to, as Max ran right back in just in time. She went to walk past him but he shot his arm up, blocking her path. “Who the hell were you talking to?” he asked in a low voice.

“It’s none of your business,” you tried to interject.

Max looked up at him for a few seconds before speaking calmly, “Mormons.”

You watched as he blew smoke in her face. “Mormons?”

She nodded her head and said, “Talkative ones.” After that she pushed past his arm and he looked after her before walking over to the front door, yanking it open.

“What are you gonna do, Billy? Beat the mormons up?” you rolled your eyes at him and went to go check on Max, ignoring the phone that was now ringing.

Billy grew agitated at the constant distractions and yanked the phone from the wall, shouting into it, “What do you want?”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady, Hargrove,” Billy’s head perked up when he heard the familiar voice that he hadn’t heard since he left California.

He grinned slowly and leaned against the wall, “Is this Rebecca Montgomery?”

You spun around quickly when you heard the name of your friend and rushed back down the hall.

“Is this my favorite chain-smoking asshole?” Rebecca grinned into the phone.

“It is,” his eyes moved up when he saw you turn the corner and he winked over at you. “Does someone miss me?”

“Only every night, one hand on a romance novel and the other-”

Billy couldn’t hear what Rebecca said next as you jumped forward and tried knocking the phone out of his hand. He held it up over your head before stepping back and speaking into the phone, “What took you so damn long to call then? Don’t tell me you replaced me already, babe.”

“Give me the damn phone, Hargrove!” you started to yell.

“Babe?” Rebecca snorted. “Jesus, last time it was princess. Who replaced me in that hick town?”

“Oh trust me,” he hummed into the phone. “You are irreplaceable.”

“Give me the fucking phone!” you tried to grab the phone again and you punched his arm, which earned you a glare.

“Fuck off, Mayfield,” he practically growled at you.

You flipped him off and Billy turned back to the phone, listening as Rebecca clicked her tongue at him. She said, “Down boy. I called for Y/N, not you.”

His face fell and he turned to you suddenly, shoving the phone into your chest roughly. “It’s for you,” he muttered before storming off to his bedroom and you listened as the door slammed shut.

“You sure pissed him off,” you said into the phone.

“He’ll get over it. I’ll call back later to piss off Neil and give Billy a reason to turn that frown upside down.”

You leaned back against the wall and covered your face, feeling your eyes water as you heard your best friend’s voice. “Oh it is so good to hear your voice right now,” you sighed. “I feel like I’m going insane over here.”

“What’s up, buttercup? Hawkins got you down? I’m just two planes a shitty bus ride away,” she tried laughing lightly to cheer you up.

You snorted a little, “You’d lose it within five seconds of being here. Stay there in sunny California.”

“Come home to me then,” Rebecca shouted into the phone. “Unless something is keeping you there? Hell, bring Max back too.”

“If only it were that simple,” you sighed loudly and dropped to sit on the floor, the cord of the phone stretching. “I think Max is starting to make friends so I’ll leave her be. One of us had to make the best of this, so I’m glad it’s her.”

“What’s going on? Is Neil worse than he was? Is he making Billy worse?” Rebecca asked. 

She would always get nervous and worried over Billy. You couldn’t understand it but you didn’t question it. 

“Neil is just a dick. Always has been, always will be. And as for Hargrove, well, let’s just say that since I’ve come back I’ve slapped him, burnt him with a cigarette, and threatened his life on a daily basis. Sorry.”

You listened as your friend sighed into the phone and whispered, “Christ.” It went quiet for a minute before she spoke up again, “Did something happen to you? I thought I’d get a call a week ago.”

You found yourself focusing on a piece of lint stuck to your ripped jeans. You took a deep breath before exhaling, “I spoke about George yesterday and I don’t know how to feel about it.”

Again, silence.

“What prompted that?” Rebecca asked slowly.

“Steve Harrington, the guy with the good hair,” you sighed into the phone and leaned your head back against the wall. “He’s this stupid, blazer wearing guy in my class and he pops up occasionally to check in on me because I drove him home after he drank too much at a party.”

“And what did Blazer Boy have to say?”

You clenched your jaw as you could feel your eyes start to burn. You held the phone away from your ear so she couldn’t hear you breathe in sharply. “He uh,” you cleared your throat as you held the phone back to your ear. “He said it wasn’t my fault. What happened to George wasn’t my fault. Then he hugged me and stuff and I just walked away after a while. No big deal.”

“Oh wow, you should marry him,” Rebecca said. You could see her face in your mind and you knew she was grinning. “When should I buy my maid of honor dress?”

“Oh please,” you scoffed. “He’s trying to make up with his girlfriend, so that is not happening. Like ever. Not that I want it to or anything.”

“You should at least talk to him, Y/N,” Rebecca sighed into the phone. “Don’t ice the guy out, he sounds like the only one in Hawkins who isn’t a total dick, your step brother included in that. As much as it pains me to say, you know my sordid past with William Hargrove.”

You snorted at that comment and bit your tongue. She was the only one who dared to call him William.

She ignored your snort and continued on, “But seriously, don’t avoid this Steve guy. Good scenario, you have a friend who is just as amazing as me in Indiana. Even better scenario... well let’s say the girlfriend becomes an ex.”

You shook your head, disagreeing with everything, “Nah. I’m just a girl who has panic attacks and who constantly cries now. There’s nothing appealing about that. I’m sure once he brought flowers to her yesterday, their fight was totally forgotten about. And I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t do that to George.” That was another problem you were having. Your boyfriend was laying six feet under the ground and you were thinking about the boy who looked insanely good in black ray bans. It was insulting and you didn’t feel right.

“George is dead,” she was blunt and you pressed your palm against your eyes. “And I pray to God he won’t be undead any time soon. I know you don’t want to hear it, but healing is going to take moving past him. He’ll always have a place in your heart, but I know how big it is. There’s room for someone else.

“Yeah, maybe...” you whispered slowly. “You doing okay in California?” It was a cheap shot at changing the subject but you gave it a shot as you pushed yourself off the ground.

“Clearly not. I miss my best friend and I want to help her. Please do something for yourself and take a damn chance for once,” she continued to press the subject.

“I’ll see, Rebecca,” you nodded your head as you spoke with a weak voice. 

“Perfect! Then I take the cue and change the subject to this bitch Miranda that you left me with,” Rebecca started to shout into the phone.

You started to laugh in the phone and for the next hour, you and Rebecca stood on the phone catching up. You felt better than you had all day and you could feel your body growing lighter. It was just what you needed and you continued to smile, blissfully ignorant of the trouble brewing in Hawkins.

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[redgillan]

Breaking the Rules - part 6

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary:  Modern!AU You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.

Word Count:2,395

Warnings: the usual 

A/N: I’m sure how I feel about this, but anyway... Spot the B99 quote ;)

Breaking the Rules - Masterpage

“What the hell are you wearing?” Bucky burst out laughing when he saw you.

You had followed his mother and sisters to the wedding venue so you hadn’t seen him since you had left that morning. Becca’s prom dress fitted you just right, but it wasn’t the most appropriate outfit for a wedding.

It was a shimmering purple dress with lots of frills.

“You look like a sparkling plum,” he said, doubling over in laughter.

“Fuck off!”

He finally controlled his laughter enough to speak. “I saved you a seat next to Peggy. The wedding’s about to start.”

“Where’s Dot?”

“No idea.”

Bucky turned back to the door when his mother hissed his name. He excused himself and walked back to the flower girl. He squatted down to talk to the little girl who was staring off into space. Her hands were shaking hard as she held onto the little basket.  

He took a fistful of petals and let them trickle through his fingers. She giggled happily and gave him a big hug. You met Bucky’s eyes before you reluctantly let the usher direct you to your seat.

You greeted Steve and Peggy as you sat down. The musicians were tuning their instruments and you took a moment to look at your surroundings.

Dot was sitting on the groom’s side since her fiancé was one of Henry’s best man. She was in the seat closest to the aisle. She kept her eyes on you as the quartet started playing the famous Pachelbel Canon.

Her fiancé slowly walked arm in arm with Lizzie up the aisle toward Henry. Bucky and Mary followed them and as he walked past Dot, she brushed her hand against his. Your hands balled into fists at your sides.

The ceremony was long and, quite frankly, pretty boring. You were mulling over the events of the last couple of days with a scowl on your face. The night before, Bucky had taught you a bit of sign language, mostly bad words and insults. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t flirted a bit with him.

His smile made your stomach do flip-flops. It was very confusing because you were not ready to admit –even to yourself- that the man you hated more than anything made your heart beat faster.

His sister was saying her vows when your eyes met his. He frowned at you, silently asking why you looked so gloomy.

You gave him a little shrug. You nodded towards Dot, then you made a b-handshape and placed the tip of your fingers on your chin. ‘Dot’s a bitch.’ Bucky chuckled quietly, trying not to attract attention.

You spent the rest of the ceremony signing the dirty words he had taught you. Bucky tried to discreetly reply to you, but it was difficult since he was facing the entire crowd.

He pointed toward you, then closed his hand while moving it in a circle in front of his face. You frowned, not knowing what it meant. He smiled at you and clapped along with the rest of the guests as Henry kissed Rebecca.

You walked up to him after the ceremony. “What does that mean?” you asked, mimicking the gesture.

“You’re beautiful,” he answered, brushing his thumb against your cheek.

You blinked at him, at a loss for words, and he smiled tenderly. He took your hand and led you away from the crowd. Unfortunately, you couldn’t escape his mother, she had eyes everywhere.

Winnie wanted to get pictures of the two of you with the rest of the family. You tried to reason with Bucky. You were his fake girlfriend and wedding pictures are a big deal, but he only squeezed your hand tighter.

An hour later you finally sat down at your assigned table. Bucky introduced you to everybody at the table.

“You already know Steve and Peggy,” he said, then turned to a woman with long dark hair and a man with bleached-blond hair. “And these two troublemakers are Pietro and Wanda Maximoff.”

“I used to babysit them,” Steve said, a smile on his lips. “You guys are adults now, it makes me feel old.”

Peggy chuckled as she rubbed small circles over her tiny baby bump. “It’s good to know you have experience with kids, darling.”

You all laughed with her, Steve playfully rolled his eyes before he started a conversation with Pietro.

Bucky looked at the small crowd near the buffet table and his eyes widened for a second before a large smile spread across his lips. He quickly excused himself and crossed the room to kneel beside the flower girl.

He raised his hand above his head and gave her a high five. He spoke to her, probably telling her that she had done a great job during the ceremony. You watched him put a hand on his chest, somewhat dramatically, as the little girl twirled in place to show off her pretty dress.

You chuckled to yourself, unable to tear your eyes away from him. A good-looking twentysomething ran towards the little girl, she had panic written all over her face. She scolded the little girl who quickly rushed back to the kids’ table.

Bucky got to his feet and smiled at the twentysomething before he nodded toward the far corner of the room. She followed him. A strange feeling bubbled up inside you, one you remembered all too well.

Jealousy.

You tried to push the feeling away, knowing it would only cause you pain. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t even your friend. He was just Natasha’s annoying neighbour.

You suddenly stood up from your chair, startling Wanda and Peggy, and headed to the buffet table. When Bucky joined you, you were aggressively scooping a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto your plate.

He stood too close for your liking so you shifted a bit further away from him. He glanced sideway at you and frowned.

“Something wrong?”

“No.” Your voice sounded harsher than you had intended.

“Okay, you’re a bad liar,” he chuckled awkwardly. “C’mon, what’s going on?”

With a loud sigh, you threw the spoon back into the bowl and turned to face him. “You know what? We’re supposed to be a couple, but as soon as you have the opportunity to hit on a girl, you-”

“Wow, wait, what?” he interrupted you.

“I saw you with that girl!”

He stared at you for a second before he started laughing quietly. You put your plate down and crossed your arms over your chest. The fact that he was laughing at you infuriated you even more.

“You’re an idiot,” he said, still laughing. “That girl was hired to watch the kids. She’s my sister’s girlfriend, I found out yesterday and my parents don’t know Lizzie is dating a girl. I wanted to make sure she was right for my little sister. Just like I would have done if she’d been dating a guy.”

“Oh,” you replied lamely, uncrossing your arms.

“Are you jealous?” He leaned closer, taunting you.

“No!” you gasped.

“I think you are.”

Bucky hesitated a bit before he cupped the side of your face and let his thumb brush your jaw. Your body betrayed you and leaned into his touch. Then, your eyes snapped open and you quickly pulled away from him.

“I have to go.”

You bolted out of the room before he could say anything. He called out your name, but you kept walking.

Once you were finally outside, you breathed out a sigh of relief. You shivered slightly as the cold night air hit your bare arms and legs. 

Men like him were dangerous and you couldn’t let him hurt you. They’re like incubi. They seduce their prey, suck the life out of them and leave... although today they are better known as fuckboys.

You put your back against the wall, slid down and sat in an attempt to calm yourself.

Pulling your phone out of your bra, you decided against calling Natasha and looked through your contacts until you found Maria’s number. She picked up after the second ring.

“Tell me I’m crazy,” you blurted out without even saying hello. “I need someone to yell at me.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

Through the phone, you heard a sharp intake of breath and the sound of a door closing. You had her undivided attention.

“Oh, right!” she said as she remembered your previous conversation. “You’re with that guy, the one you don’t like.”

“Yeah.” You closed your eyes, trying to find your words. “You’re a no-bullshit kind of person, right? So tell me I can’t develop feelings for someone I don’t like. Tell me that three days can’t change everything.”

You waited, but she didn’t say anything. After a moment, she let out a forceful sigh. “I can’t tell you that. You have feelings for someone, it’s not crazy. It’s completely normal.”

“I don’t have feelings for Bucky,” you gasped, annoyed. “He’s annoying and... moody... and-”

“You like him,” Maria interrupted. “I saw it the moment he walked into the restaurant. It was like I wasn’t even there anymore.”

“No,” you shouted. “It’s not one of those ‘I’ve always loved you and now I’m seeing you’ moments.”

“Okay, but maybe it’s a ‘I didn’t particularly like you and now I think you’re not that bad’ moment.”

She gave you some time to think it over. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment. She was right.

“Yeah, he’s not that bad,” you admitted.

“Halleluiah,” Maria exclaimed, making you chuckle. “You don’t have to jump into a relationship. You can just have a little fun, but you have to talk to him.”

“You make it sound like he has feelings for me.”

“Oh, sillyhead,” she laughed softly. “Do you know why little boys pull little girls’ pigtails on playgrounds?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Because they like the girls and that’s the only way they know how to get their attention.”

After she ended the call, you decided to head back inside and find Bucky. It took a lot of strength to push yourself off the ground and open the door. You didn’t have a whole speech prepared, you just hoped for the best.

You heard Bucky say your name and you turned toward the sound. He walked down the hallway toward you and you suddenly realized you had absolutely no idea what to say to him. He stopped an arm's length away.

“I thought you were gone.”

“Where would I go?” you replied.

“My parents’ house.”

“Alone and in the middle of the night?” you scoffed.

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised. You keep pushing me away.”

He tried to look casual, but he remembered the look in your eyes when he had cupped your face. You had leaned into his touch, sought his warmth, even if for just one second, but then your eyes sprang open in alarm and he mistook your fear for disgust.

It hurt more than he was willing to admit. Seeing you run away from him was the final blow.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable. It wasn’t my intention,” he said, looking you in the eye. “I was trying to be... funny, I guess. I wanted to make you laugh.”

“Laugh?” you repeated, frowning and cocking your head to one side.

He groaned and raked a hand through his hair, messing it up before the silky strands obediently fell back into place. He opened his mouth and closed it, as if he couldn’t find the right words.

“Every time you laugh,” he started to explain while gesturing furiously. “I have this warm, fuzzy feeling in my stomach and it spreads through my whole body and it feels so good.”

“Don’t do that,” you whispered.

You closed your eyes and focused on slowing your heartbeat. And then he understood, it wasn’t disgust he saw in your eyes. It was fear.

“No, don’t shut yourself off. Not with me,” he warned, taking a step forward. “I know you felt it -that spark between us.”

“What do you want from me?” you cut him off.

“I want...” Bucky looked around frantically, trying to express feelings he had never felt before.

He wanted to talk for hours in bed on lazy Sunday mornings. He wanted to hold your hand as you both walked through Central Park at night.

He wanted to tease you, say stupid things and make you laugh. He wanted to wrap his body around yours, to feel you against him, to keep you safe and happy.

“-you,” he answered simply. “I want you.”

You closed the distance between you and brought his lips down to yours. Initiating the kiss enabled you to control everything. You abandoned yourself completely and kissed him hard.

He stumbled slightly and backed you up against the wall, one hand against it for support. Yet, he made no move to take control of the kiss and, instead, let you savour him.

The thought of someone catching sight of you made you dizzy with desire and Bucky’s free arm wrapped around your waist, holding you up. You pulled back slightly and began trailing open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, then his neck.

“Yes, keep going,” he moaned. “Right there!”

He arched into you when you found that sweet spot just behind his ear and laved it with your tongue. You bit, sucked and licked his tender flesh, satisfying an animalistic need to mark him, to let everyone know that he belonged to you.

When you pulled back, your eyes widened slightly. An angry red mark stood in stark contrast to his pale skin. Bucky shivered when you traced it with the tip of your forefinger.

He took a step back, a dopey look in his eyes as he stared into nothing. His tie was loose and his shirt was almost completely untucked. He tried to say something, but his brain was too fuzzy to figure out how to speak.

Instead, he touched his lips; they were still warm and tingly.

You couldn’t handle these sudden feelings, so the irrational part of your brain took over. You had to get away from him.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly.

You ducked your head in shame and rushed back into the main room, leaving Bucky confused and dazzled in the middle of the hallway.

Part 7

[nerdforestgirl]

The Adolescence Alternative

Chapter One: Excuses

Note: You may have already read this.  Or at least a version of this.  This first chapter was not only posted on WP, but a version of it was also posted here a few months ago.  This is a high school AU. I will continue the entire story in the coming days, so I thought I would start at the beginning.

Sheldon didn’t want to go on a date with Sarah. He didn’t want to go on a date Victoria. He didn’t really want to go on a date with Rebecca. Even before his brother, Junior, broke Rebecca’s heart, Sheldon wouldn't have gone out with her. Really, Sheldon didn’t want to go on a date with any of the girls him mama was trying to set him up with.

“I have a girlfriend,” he blurted out when Mama was trying to talk him into the virtues of Sarah. Apparently she could make a great pecan pie. As if that was a completely reasonable foundation on which to base a relationship.

“A girlfriend? Who? Why didn’t you say anything? You should bring her to dinner so we can meet her,” his mother said.

Sheldon didn’t know what to say. He didn’t actually have a girlfriend. He wasn’t his brother. Girls didn’t interest him. Boys didn’t interest him either, even if the football players did call him a mean name that implied that they did. No one interested him.

“Her name is Amy,” Sheldon muttered. She was the only girl he could think of off the top of his head who wasn’t his sister. She was recently assigned to be his lab partner, but he didn’t know much about her. She was mostly quiet and let him work on the experiments. That was fine with him. At least she didn’t get in the way.

“I’m not ready for her to come to dinner,” Sheldon muttered.

“Amy? Amy who? Do I know her mama?”

“Her name is Amy Fowler. I doubt you know her parents. She just moved here,” Sheldon explained. He hoped that his mother didn’t ask any other questions because he had already told her everything he knew about her. Beyond this, he would need to start making things up, and he wasn’t particularly good at that.

He breathed a sigh of relief when Mama dropped the subject. He knew this wasn’t going to be the end of it, but at least it ended for now. If only he knew what he started by uttering those four words.

Sheldon's mother wasn’t sure why she worried so much for her Sheldon. She just wanted him to be happy, and it seemed like he wasn’t doing much to help himself. The other kids had friends and played on teams and joined clubs. They went on dates. Her Sheldon just stayed home all the time: reading, studying, playing video games. She had taken him to someone to see if he was depressed, but the doctor said he was just fine. He just had different interests from the other boys.

Mama still thought she should try to find her boy a nice girl to spend his time with. A girl with hometown roots who would keep him grounded even after he went off to go do whatever it was he dreamed of doing. At least it sounded like he was finally making friends. Still, Mama decided to mention this development to her daughter, Missy, so that she could see if she knew anything about this Amy.

“No, Mama. Amy? Are you sure he said Amy? I don’t think there’s even a girl named Amy in our whole class,” Missy told her mother that night when Mama got Missy alone.

“It isn’t like that boy to lie to me,” Mama said.

“He would if he’s trying to get you to stop setting him up with girls from church,” Missy commented.

“Hmm,” Mama said. She wondered if she was pushing Sheldon too hard if he was inventing girls. She decided to talk to him about it later. Maybe a different course would be needed. Shelly was a special boy after all.

Sheldon didn’t know about his mother’s change of heart, so he decided that he better get to know Amy better if he wanted to keep dropping information about the girl. He walked into the biology lab and took his seat next to Amy. She was reading a book, and he peeked over her shoulder to see what it was.

“Hamlet?” Sheldon asked.

“Yes,” Amy said shortly. It was the first time Sheldon had ever spoken to her for a reason that wasn’t him telling her what to do for whatever lab work they were doing. He thought he was so smart. Well, he clearly was, but she still hated him. He was so smug and she always clenched her fist as to not punch him whenever he spoke. He always cut her off when she tried to explain a biological principle. She stopped trying. It was only a couple more months until the end of the school year, and if she had any luck, her father would be transferred again and she would be off to her fifth high school before the start of her senior year.

“My favorite Shakespeare play is A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I don’t like the tragedies. Too woe is me,” Sheldon commented.

“But A Midsummer Night’s Dream?” Amy asked despite herself.

“It’s whimsical. There are fairies. It’s better than ghosts and suicide,” Sheldon countered.

“It’s all about love.”

“I can like love. I don’t want it myself, but it’s funny to watch others try to traverse it,” Sheldon countered.

“Fair enough,” Amy admitted. That was actually pretty close to how she felt about it. She was only reading Hamlet again because she had a test on it and it had been a few years since she read it. She went back to reading her book. The conversation was clearly over. Or at least she wanted it to be.

“So, what’s your favorite play? Is it Hamlet?” Sheldon asked. He hated having to ask all of these questions, but he still didn’t know much about the girl sitting next to him. Instead he ended up tell her about him. He suddenly wished he had the slightest idea how to do small talk. It had never seemed valuable before this moment.

“I don’t really like Shakespeare all that much,” Amy admitted.

Sheldon was about to ask her to finally give him an answer when the bell rang and class started. He didn’t have a chance to find out any more about the girl.

During their lab, Amy worked hard on their experiment just as he did, but they didn’t speak about anything personal again. Sheldon looked at her write up. It was filled with tiny neat writing that was even more extensive than his own. How could she write so much about a something as boring as biology? He always assumed that she just jotted down whatever he told her to write. That’s what everyone did in all of his classes. He knew that his classmates didn’t like working with him, but they always knew he was right.

Amy left as soon as the bell rang without so much as a goodbye. Sheldon sighed because he didn’t learn anything about Amy. If his mom pushed him for information, he wasn’t going to have anything.

Sheldon planned to try again the next day. He was going to learn one thing about Amy Fowler and then he was going mention it to his mother. Then in a few weeks he was going to tell his mother than he had broken up with the girl and was far too heartbroken to date again for the rest of high school. It was brilliant plan to get him to college.

Though when he got home, his mother was waiting for him with a snack. Sheldon wanted to groan when he saw her there. She was probably waiting to ask him more about Amy. Sheldon tried to remember what he knew about her. She smelled like cherry blossoms. She had long, shiny brown hair. She wore glasses. She was kind. She didn't like Shakespeare. Maybe he could make something out of that.

“Missy told me the truth about Amy,” Mama said as he sat down.

“What truth about Amy?” Sheldon wondered what his sister might know about his lab partner. She couldn't possibly know that she wasn't really Sheldon's girlfriend. Missy never knew anything about his life, and Amy just got to their school. Sheldon could just say that it was new.

“That there is no Amy. I just wanted to help you be happy. You didn't need to make up a girl.”

“She's not strictly my girlfriend, but she is real. We talked about Shakespeare today,” Sheldon offered. He couldn't believe that his sister said Amy wasn't real. Amy was a real head turner even if she was new. How had Missy never noticed her? Even if she wasn't Sheldon's lab partner, he was sure he would have noticed her. That long, brown hair would have gotten his attention from a hundred meters. Not that he thought she was that pretty or anything. At least that's what he told himself.

“You don't need to lie to me. I won't push the girl thing anymore,” Mama promised.

“I appreciate that, but Amy is my friend. She's a real girl,” Sheldon muttered. He didn't need to make the girl his girlfriend anymore, but now he wanted to prove to his mother than he wasn't making anyone up.

That meant that the next day, Sheldon was going to find something out about Amy Fowler to prove to his family that she was real. He might even actually try to do something he had never done before: make a friend.

When Sheldon walked into his biology class, Amy was sitting there reading. He realized that she always read before class started. He never saw her talking to anyone or doodling in her notebook. She only ever read. It wasn't Hamlet today.

“What are you reading?” Sheldon asked.

Amy didn't speak as she lifted the book to show him the cover of Mansfield Park. Then she set it back down and started to read again. She had no idea why Sheldon was talking to her again, and she really wished he would go back to ignoring her.

“Jane Austen?”

“Mm-hmm,” Amy confirmed without actually saying anything. She hated when people tried to speak to her while she was reading. It was one of her few actual pleasures, and she took it where she could.

“So, you're an Austen girl?” Sheldon asked.

“What does that mean?” Amy asked as she finally looked up from her book.

“It's just that you were mocking me yesterday for enjoying A Midsummer Night's Dream, and you read Austen. Austen girls are always romantics,” Sheldon pointed out.

“'Austen girls' as you say don't have to live up to any of your standards, Sheldon Cooper. And also, have you ever even read Mansfield Park? It's so much more than that. Fanny's story is one about class struggle and about finding one's place. It isn't just romance. I bet you haven't read any of Austen's work beyond Pride and Prejudice,” she argued.

“I've never read Pride and Prejudice,” he admitted.

“Then, who are you to judge anyone who enjoys it?” Amy snapped. She then started reading again as if to tell him to shut the hell up. The bell rang and class started.

Sheldon still didn't get any real information from her. He couldn't tell if she even actually liked the book she was reading. Maybe she didn't. She certainly seemed angry enough as to not indicate pleasure in the activity. Still, Sheldon decided to stop by the library on his way home. Maybe he would understand what she was talking about if he read the book.

On Sheldon's way home, he stopped by the library. He checked out both Pride and Prejudice and Mansfield Park. After he finished his homework, he started into Pride and Prejudice. He only finished half of it by midnight, but it was better than he anticipated.

When Sheldon got to biology class the next day, he didn't try to engage Amy in conversation, to which she was relieved. Instead he just pulled out the copy of Pride and Prejudice and started to read next to her.

“Are you making fun of me?” Amy asked. She didn't care if Sheldon thought she was a nerd. The friends in books were the only ones that really stayed with her while she moved from place to place. But who was he to judge her?

“How would I be making fun of you?” Sheldon asked. He never made fun of people, and when he attempted, it was never subtle. His jokes always ended with a “gotcha” or a “just foolin'.” He wasn't sure how sitting next to her reading the book she recommended was even close to making fun.

“You are reading Jane Austen,” Amy pointed out.

“Yes. You told me I should read it because I did not understand. I have to say that it's actually pretty good,” he admitted with a little grin.

“It is,” Amy told him with a smile. It was the first time she smiled at him, and Sheldon noticed that she had nice teeth. She was very pretty, and again, he wondered why she wasn't friends with all of the popular girls.

He was about to ask her about it when he started sneezing. This old library book must be full of dust.

Amy moved her chair over by a couple feet and didn't speak to him again. In all honesty, Sheldon didn't blame her. He would have done the same thing.

[suallenparker]

Philinda Fanfic: Behind the Scenes, Chapter 10

RATING: T

SPOILER: This is set in a Universe where Phil quit his Tony Stark babysitting duties after the first gig and returned to active field work. So, basically their backstories stay the same until after the first Iron Man Movie.

SUMMARY: After her former partner Phil Coulson almost got killed in action, the traumatized SHIELD agent Melinda May returns to duty. She and Phil  go undercover as contestants of the celebrated TV show “Forever Love” to catch a stalker and to trip a traitor.

NOTES: See Chapter 1. Life’s still crazy, unfortunately. But today was a good writing day so there’s finally a new chapter! I hope you enjoy. :)

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o0o

Chapter 10: Resolution in which they stay in character a bit longer.

So she had two more reasons to kick Garrett’s ass. Melinda tried to look upset and confused instead of pissed as all the women gathered around in the big hall. Three cameras where set in front of them, two behind them.

“Are you okay?” Audrey asked and rubbed Melinda’s arm.

Melinda took a shaky breath. “I’m fine.”

An hour ago that dickface had arrested Rebecca and everything after had been a bit of chaos. Of course the cocktail party had to be interrupted. - Not ended. Just interrupted. They would start rolling again any minute now.

They still had a rose ceremony to film.

So they all stood here, in their pretty dresses with their pretty make up and pretty shoes, waiting for some news. - And waiting for Eric to ask them to stay.

“I saw how they brought Rebecca out with cuffs,” Anisa said. Her voice was shaky. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Melinda pulled up her shoulders. This was one of the new reasons she wanted to kick Garrett’s ass.

At least Garrett had been smart enough to bust Rebecca with them on set, if things should’ve gone south.

Unfortunately Rebecca went without a fight. Melinda was really in the mood for a little fight. Or just a chase. Anything that would grant her the opportunity to hit Garrett by accident.

“Did Eric say anything?” Audrey asked. “He was with you, right?”

Melinda shook her head. “We were both just so shocked!“

Phil had been just as surprised as she had been. How could Garrett blindside them like that? He might not have ways to communicate with her but if Phil kept to their arrangements, he called that jerk every other day for updates on the world outside the show, just like she did with Hill.

“Does anybody know why they arrested Rebecca?” Anisa asked. “What could she’ve done that would be so horrible?”

Melinda shrugged again. Until Hill would call this mission complete, her mission was to stay in character. And Diane was clueless. “They just arrested her. It all happened so fast!”

In a corner across from them, Peter patted Phil’s arm. Phil looked convincingly worried and confused. Those two emotions were always much more in his wheelhouse than in hers. Hand powdered Peter’s face. Maggie and Javier stood next to them. Javier had his arms crossed while Maggie said something to Peter and Phil that Melinda couldn’t understand.

Next, Peter walked up in front of the women and opened his arms. For the first time, he wasn’t smiling his charming smile. “Today was a hard hit for our hit show.”

“Peter, please just read the script.” Maggie said from the sidelines.

Peter turned his head. “Excuse me for trying to add flair.”

They both looked at each other until he broke under her gaze and turned back to the camera.

“Ladies,” he said and brought his hands together in that power triangle. “Today was a long day but please know, you’re safe. The police is handling everything and so we’re free to continue the journey to love.” He turned to the side again and extended his arm.  “Eric?”

As Phil stepped into the frame, Peter stepped a little to the side.

Phil took a breath and smiled at all of them. “Life is crazy sometimes and I’m glad I have all of you with me to go through this experience. You’ve all been fantastic!”

Eric moved back in, “But now you have to decide who will stay by your side and who will leave tonight. Eric, who will get the first rose?” With those words, Peter took a red rose off a little tray, held by a kneeling camera assistant off camera.

Phil took the rose and looked at every one of the eight women left.

“Diane.” His gaze stopped at her and Melinda pressed her nails into the palms of her hand. Damn her knees for getting shaky. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t him! But oh, that look in his eyes and that soft smile on his lips …

He cleared his throat. “I’m so sorry our little date tonight got interrupted. I feel so connected to you and I think, given the chance, we could be something great. So please, will you accept this rose?”

“Of course.”

o0o

Half past midnight they had finally wrapped up filming for the day and Phil could call Garrett from the privacy of his room.

Phil clenched his fist while the phone rang for a sixth time. And a seventh. And an eighth.

What the hell took Garrett so long?

Finally, after the twelfth ring, Garrett answered the phone, “Hey, buddy.”

“What the hell was that?”

“Would I’ve known that you’d be smooching May, I would’ve given you another minute to enjoy.”

Phil closed his eyes and pressed his lips together. Soon enough they would arrest Garrett. Soon enough that bastard would root behind bars forever.

“Why did you blindside us?” he asked as calmly as he could.

“There was just no time to tell you, I swear. Just this morning I got a lead that Rebecca had been in a relationship Anisa Patel. The personal trainer. Things ended badly.”

“I know who she is.” They went snorkeling just yesterday. She had told him about her nieces and they had bonded about their dislike for Thai Chi. It was just way too slow of a sport. The only time he enjoyed it was when he was watching Melinda going through the moves. Phil swallowed.  “Who gave you the lead?”

“I went far back down Anisa’s Facebook today and checked every photo for familiar faces. And there they were. Holding hands November two years ago.”

“That’s a long time to hold a grudge.”

“Hacked myself into the database of her timeline and she obviously deleted a lot of pictures. I checked out Rebecca’s social media too, and I found a picture of her and Anisa from last fall. They’re carving a pumpkin together, looking all smily and in love. - Just like you and May did today.”

He hated that Garrett still spoke to him like a friend might. That bastard. But they would deal with that later. For now Phil had to keep up the facade. So he focused on the obvious. “That’s still very slim. Anything else?”

“We’re interrogating Rebecca right now. So far she’s just denying everything. Hill is getting pissed.”

“Maybe because you arrested someone based on two photos and a hunch.”

“Told you I had to act fast.”

Nope. Not buying into that.

“Come on, I just know in my gut that she’s responsible. And as soon as we got her confession, we’re all free of that mission. Isn’t that what you want?”

“I want to get the right person so the people on this show and behind it are safe.”

“Will you ever tell May?”

“Tell her what?”

“How you feel about her.”

“She already knows that she’s my favorite partner.”

“Only because she’s way prettier than me.”

Phil forced himself to chuckle at that. “Sounds about right.”

o0o

Phil dried his hair with a towel when he heard a knock on the door to his room. It was half past seven in the morning and Maggie had promised they wouldn’t start shooting before nine today, so what could she possibly want now? Sighing, he dropped the towel to the bathroom floor.

“Coming,” he said as he walked out of the bathroom. He grabbed a pair of jeans from the side chair and slipped into them, before he opened the door.

“Oh,” Anisa said. For a moment, she stared at his chest, her hand half lifted towards the scar the bullet had left him with, before she swallowed hard and looked into his eyes. “I’m so sorry to disturb you so early, but I needed to talk to you.”

Rebecca.

“Good morning, Anisa,” he said, ignoring the camera man, the sound lady and Javier who stood behind her. What other chance did he have? Until Hill confirmed that Rebecca was indeed the person they were after, the show was still going on. “Would you like to come in?”

Anisa nodded sternly and pulled her shoulders up. She and the film crew followed him inside. Javier closed the door while Phil kept focus on Anisa.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. Eric asked.

“I wanted you to hear this from me,” she said and pulled in a breath. “Rebecca and I were dating once. For a year. We broke up February last year and … “ She looked at him with tears dwelling in her eyes. “I thought we were friends after. But if she did anything to hurt you because of me … I’m so sorry, Eric.”

“This isn’t your fault.”

“Maybe I should’ve told someone when I met her on set but we …”

He shook his head. “It’s not your fault.”

“I thought we were friends.”

“I know that feeling.” He rubbed her arms. “You can’t take responsibility for somebody else’s action. Even if they’re your friends. Ok?”

She smiled and threw herself into a hug. “Thank you so much for saying that.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist. “Thank you for telling me.”

Javier held up a thumb and gave a big smile. “Perfect!” he mouthed.

Then someone else knocked.

“This is getting crowded,” Anisa said as she pulled away from him.

He laughed. She was such a sweet and funny person! She definitely deserved better than this. He squeezed her hand.

It knocked again.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this,” he said.

Anisa and the film crew stepped out of his way.

Phil opened the door.

“Cut,” Maggie said.

Phil frowned at her. “What’s wrong?”

Maggie held up a piece of paper. “You got a letter from …” She glanced at the film crew and Rebecca. “your doctor.”

Yeah, no. His doctor wouldn’t contact him through Maggie.

Anisa gasped. “Are you alright?” She placed her hand on his shoulder.

“It’s just a reminder for a check up,” Maggie said.

Looked like he was here to stay. Because he would bet his right arm that Maggie was holding a new threat against the show. And him.

o0o

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MORE NOTES: Thank you for sticking with this and still reading! As always, i can’t wait to hear your thoughts! :D

[showmethedestiel]

Like I said; I don’t Like Hospitals

Chapter Sixteen

[Masterlist]

Summary:  You help Misha while he’s going through a hard time. The two of you quickly become friends, but will it lead to something more in such trying circumstances?

Words: 2,582

Pairing: Misha/Reader

Misha’s POV

Misha wakes to see the sun rising over the treetops out the window; through the cracked open curtains. The clock tells him it’s just after seven.

He groans and rolls over, eyes falling on your sleeping form beside him.

He smiles and kisses your cheek before he gets out of bed, getting dressed to go and wake the kids up.

Five hours later he’s sitting on a deck chair, looking over the crystalline water of the calm lake; the picture of serenity.

That is - of course - sans the squealing, splashing children a few hundred yards along the beach.

Misha hears a chuckle from the plastic chair beside him. He turns to your dad.

“Ah, children.” Is all he says.

Misha smiles. “What about you Tim, you ever miss having them?” He asks.

Tim smiles a little sadly. “Sometimes.” He says. “I’m just glad Y/N found someone so I could at least experience this again.” He looks fondly at West and Maison, making sloppy sandcastles from the too-wet sand.

Misha smiles proudly. There are a few minutes of silence before he speaks. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you had to drive them here.” He chuckles.

“Here’s to that.” Tim replies, raising his beer.

Your dad had caught a few Perch and a Trout, Misha had proudly caught a largemouth bass. West had found a freshwater crab – but Maison had lost it after it pinched her; much to her brother’s annoyance.

Tim brought sandwiches which were long-since eaten, and beers which he and Misha were slowly making their way through.

The lake itself was beautiful; teeming with wildlife, surrounded by a mostly rocky beach – aside from the small sandy alcove West and Maison were playing in. It was deep in the forest, so the shade had cooled the water – but it wasn’t freezing because of the scorching summer.

“Dad! Come look what we found!” West shouts, holding up a closed fist.

Misha grunts as he stands, having not moved from one spot in hours. “Watch my rod, would you?” He asks the man beside him.

Tim smiles. “When children call…”

Misha chuckles and makes his way over to the kids thirty yards down the beach. “What is it Westie?” He asks, crouching down.

West is holding a small, grey crustacean. “What is it dad?” He asks,

“I think it’s a dead crawfish West.” Misha replies, a look of mild disgust on his face. “I wouldn’t touch it.”

“No – it isn’t dead – it was moving a minute ago!” West insists, poking it with his other hand.

“Okay, well I think you might’ve killed it buddy.” Misha says, standing back up. “I think you should put it back in the water now.”

“Okay.” West replies obediently, running down to the shore.

Misha stays and watches for a moment longer before wandering back to Tim.

“He found a dead crawfish.” He explains, sitting down and picking up his fishing rod.

There’s no reply and Misha thinks Tim might have fallen asleep. But no, his eyes are open. There’s a content smile on his lips.

His head lolls unnaturally to the side and Misha suddenly feels a nauseating panic. “Tim?” He says loudly.

There’s no reply.

“Tim?” He repeats, alarmed, this time shaking the older man’s shoulder gently.

He checks for a pulse.

There isn’t one.

Shit.

While Misha’s impatiently waiting for the ambulance, nervously running a hand through his hair, he calls you.

“Hey Mish.” You answer.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” He replies, distressed.

“What? What is it?” You ask, frowning in confusion.

“It… It’s your dad.” Misha says, his voice pained.

You feel your heart constrict.

“What?” You ask, not wanting to hear the answer.

“I… I think he had a heart attack, there’s an ambulance on its way.”

You swallow thickly, head spinning. “W- what happened?” You manage to ask.

“I don’t know. I went over to see West and when I came back… He wasn’t breathing.”

“What hospital?” You ask, standing up and watching your mother’s confused, scared expression.

“Uh, Saint Josephs.” Misha replies and you walk to the door, gesturing for your mom to follow.

Once you’re in the hire car you put your cell on speakerphone.

“You’re on speaker.” You say as your tyres screech on the tarmac.

“Y/N, what’s happening?” Your mother asks fearfully.

You turn to face her, eyes scared. “It’s dad.” You whisper. “Misha thinks he had a heart attack.”

Your mom’s eyes go wide and she blinks a few times. “W-what?” She stammers.

“There’s an ambulance on its way.” You say, though a shaky voice.

You get to the hospital a few minutes after the ambulance does, and rush inside – finding Misha and the kids immediately.

He wraps his arms around you, and you tuck your head under his chin.

“What’s happening?” You ask unsteadily.

You hear Misha swallow. “It doesn’t look good.” He says; his voice rough.

You hear your mom make a strangled noise behind you, and you leave Misha’s arms to embrace her.

“It’s okay mom.” You say. “It’s okay.”

Misha watches sadly from a few feet away, wishing there was something he could do.

You’re standing outside room 337. The wooden door is shut, serving as a dam of reality; as long as he’s behind that closed door, this can’t be real.

“I’m sorry.” The doctor before you says, wearing practised controlled moroseness on his features. “There was nothing we could do.”

Your mom breaks down into your arms, sobbing damp patches into your shirt.

“Thank you.” You tell the doctor, who nods and walks away, leaving you to grieve.

A stout nurse bustles out of the next door down, pushing a cleaning trolley. “Excuse me.” She says, walking past your family. You watch her open the door, your face falls as the inevitability hits you.

It’s only a flash; an instant image of him – lying on the hospital bed, sleeping, he’s just sleeping. But he’s not; he’s sickly pale and flash-frozen still. That’s all you see, and that’s all it takes.

A tear falls down your face and suddenly they won’t stop falling.

Misha stands, unsure of what to do. West and Maison are by his legs, scared and unsure – but knowing something bad just happened.

“I’m gonna take the kids to the car – if that’s okay?” He says quietly, resting a hand on your back.

You just nod, clinging to your mother.

Back at your family home that night; you lie awake next to Misha – staring at the ceiling. He takes your hand in his and squeezes in an attempt at comfort.

You roll over, burying your head in his chest, breathing in his scent and curling away from the world. He strokes your back.

“How are you doing?” He asks softly.

You sigh. “I just can’t believe he’s really gone.” You hold Misha tighter. “I used to think he was invincible – when I was little. I lost that delusion when he got into a car accident. I was only fourteen. He was in hospital for almost a month until he was let out. He tore up his hands pretty good – couldn’t garden for weeks. Funny thing is; that was his biggest worry. He would grumble about it every day – but he didn’t seem to notice the fact he almost died. He never has been afraid of his own mortality; my dad.” You say softly. “And I suppose that’s a good thing. He got to see West and Maison – he died happy.” You muse. “I’m worried about my mom though.”

“She’ll be okay.” Misha says, “I think she’s where you get your resilience from.”

You chuckle. “That’s true.” After a moment you add, “Still though. They’ve been together since they were sixteen.”

Misha tenses slightly, his arms tightening around you.

“What is it?” You ask, tilting your head to look at him; there are tears in his eyes, which he’s trying to hide.

He closes his eyes, causing a tear to fall from one. “Nothing.” He shakes his head. “Just that I was that age when Vicki and I...”

Your face falls in understanding. “I’m sorry.” You squeeze his hand.

“Yeah.” He says softly, opening his eyes to look at you. “Me too.”

The funeral is on a Sunday – the day before you leave to go back to Washington. You and Misha had decided not to visit Misha’s mom – Rebecca – in favour of inviting her to yours.

The midday August sun is hot in the open, shadeless field. There is a small gathering of people milling around, jackets shed in the heat. Your dad’s parents had died a long time ago, as had his brother. His only other family was on the other side of the world – except you and Beth.

“Hey Y/N.” She says, embracing you.

She flew up yesterday after hearing the news of your father’s passing.

“Hey.” You reply, smiling sadly. “How are you doing?”

Beth nods, “Not too bad. It was a shock but… At least he was happy.”

“Yeah.” You agree. “He really was.”

You see some of your dad’s old friends – some you recognise, some you don’t.

Misha – unsurprisingly – gets on with them, and the group becomes less sombre and more reminiscent, the scent of autumn and wine in the breeze. It’s what he would have wanted.

When everyone has spoken and said their goodbyes, the casket is lowered into the ground and you help Beth carry over a full-moon maple. It was one of his favourite trees.

You bury the roots in the dry soil, patting the edges gently just as he’d taught you when you were little, bumbling around the garden and getting in his way.

“The tree which moves some to tears of joy is, in the eyes of others, only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity... and some scarce see nature at all. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself.” You repeat his words, smoothing your fingers over the dirt.

Beth raises an eyebrow from beside you.

“William Blake.” You shrug. “Always stuck with me.”

Your sister decided to stay with your mom for a while – so she isn’t alone. Beth suggested selling the house – but your mother was steadfast.

“I wouldn’t let anyone touch his garden.” She protested vehemently. “Quite literally, over my dead body.”

So you, Misha, and the kids went back home, having only a few days before Misha’s mom comes to stay.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” He asks for the thousandth time since you got home.

You roll your eyes. “Yes Mish, I’m fine. I’m looking forward to it in fact! Maybe she’ll distract you from fussing over me.”

He sighs. “Okay, okay.” He says, ceasing his pacing to sit next to you on the couch. “Love you.” He smiles softly and you can’t help but smile too.

“Love you too, idiot.” You say fondly, leaning over to kiss him.

There’s a chorus of “Ewww” from West and Atticus at the doorway.

Misha pulls away, laughing. “It’s not ‘eww’ guys. You’ll see - someday.” He shakes his head softly. “Did you want something, or are you just here to gawk at my affection towards your mother?”

Misha seems to realise the mistake at the same time you do, and his eyes widen.

West however, didn’t seem to pick up on it, so intervenes before either of you can say anything. “It’s time to go get Phoebe.” He says, before running away with his friend.

You smile a little, unsure. “You called me their mom.” You tease, poking him softly.

Misha smiles sheepishly. “I mean you pretty much are…”

You shrug, “True.” Realising it is, in fact, true.

He breaks into a wide grin and returns to kissing you reverently.

Rebecca is a whirlwind. It’s the only way to describe her; a wild, unstoppable force.

She’s nice; she’s lovely – but she’s totally uncontrollable.

“West!” Misha says, exasperated, after the boy finished spewing a string of expletives. “Just… Tone it down a little, okay?”  

West grins evilly and runs out of the living room, giggling maniacally.

Rebecca is sitting quietly in the corner, but she catches your eye and smirks as Misha sits back down with a sigh, throwing an irritated glance at his mother.

“So.” She says. “Where are you from Y/N?” She smiles.

“Michigan.” You reply, “Did Misha mention we just got back from visiting my parents?”

“Yes, he did.” She says in a sympathetic tone. “I’m sorry to hear about your father, I’m sure he was a great man.”

You smile and drop your gaze. “That he was.”

There’s a comfortable silence before a log shifts in the open fire, bringing everyone back to the present. Misha gets up to sort it just as Maison wanders in, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

“Hey Mais, what are you doing up?” You ask.

“Couldn’t sleep. Want a bedtime story.” She says.

Misha is the only one who she’ll let read to her – you’ve learned.

He stands and walks over to pick her up, “Come on then.” He says, resting her on his hip. “What’ll it be tonight? Tintin, Asterix…” You hear him disappear up the stairs and turn your attention back to Rebecca, who’s watching you with a small smile.

You tilt your head in question.

“It’s nothing.” She shakes her head. “Just sometimes you remind me so much of Vicki.” She turns suddenly serious. “And I say that as the highest of compliments.”

You smile sadly. “Yeah, so I hear.” You nod, “Sometimes I wish I could’ve known her.”

Rebecca smiles. “I think you would have gotten along with her. Did you know she was an author? Among other things…”

You smile curiously. “I didn’t. Misha only tells me the occasional story, I don’t like to ask.”

She nods in understanding. “Well,” She leans in to tell her story. “When Misha told me about her first book – I didn’t quite know what to say. Take a guess at what it was about.”

You shrug. “I have no idea.”

“Threesomes.” She says simply, before bursting into laughter.

You grin, “You’re kidding,” You say incredulously.

Rebecca shakes her head. “I’m not. It was called… ‘The Threesome Handbook; A Practical Guide to Sleeping with Three’ – if I remember correctly.” She chuckles, taking a sip of her wine.

“That is honestly amazing.” You say. “I’ll have to read it sometime.”

Misha finishes the last of his wine and Rebecca yawns.

“I think I’ll go to bed now.” She says, putting her glass on the coffee table. “I’ll see you two in the morning. Goodnight.” She stands and walks out of the room, leaving you and Misha alone.

You lay your head on his lap and smile up at him. “Hi.” You say.

“Hey.” He replies, carding a hand through your hair. “We should go to bed too; it’s late.”

“Mm. In a minute.” You mumble, lifting a hand to stroke Misha’s two-day stubble.

He leans into the touch, smiling thoughtfully down at you. “I love you, you know.” He says softly.

“Yeah, I know. And I love you.” You grin. “Look at us.”

“We make quite the pair.” He smirks.

You sit up to kiss him softly, straddling his waist with your hands in his hair. He smiles against your lips and stands, suddenly, causing you to yelp in surprise and cling to him.

Misha chuckles and wraps his arms firmly around you. “Bed.” He says, grinning.

“Bed.” You agree, nodding.

A/N:  I'm so sorry for taking ages to update this - I've had like the UK equivalent of finals (and still do) but I have some time off, so I should be updating more regularly. I hope you guys are still enjoying this! -B

Chapter Seventeen

Tags:  @bowtiesarecool6288 @ abtmnt