Pretend You Donât Hate It
lt. derrick âmacâ macdonald x step mama!reader
word count: 800+
summary: Corroded Coffin or Die Photo Prompt Server Challenge | Waylon gets to see his new forever home.
warnings: none that I know of.
notes: This prompt gave me trouble for WEEKS. I could not for the life of me figure out what to do. So thanks Wheels for having me stuck in my Waylon thoughts lmao. Feel free to let me know if there are any mistakes.
Macâs truck kicks up a trail of dust behind it as he turns off the main road into a long narrow driveway. Heâs got one hand wrapped loosely around the steering wheel and the other tapping absently against the center console. The mountains are sitting pretty in the distance, still streaked with snow from earlier this week.Â
Waylonâs got his knees pulled up in the backseat, his chin resting on them, as his eyes peer out the window. Heâs been quiet for the last ten minutes, which, knowing Waylonâ is never a good sign.Â
âThatâs it?â he asks, not sounding excited in the slightest.Â
Mac nods, glancing back at him in the rear view before back at the road. âYeah. Thatâs it, buddy.â
The farmhouse comes into view as Mac finishes pulling down the drive. The crooked fence is the first thing seen, then the barn off to the side with a dilapidated looking chicken coop only a few feet away, and then the house itself. Itâs old. Old enough to not cost a fortune. Thereâs a big wooden porch, its paint worn away by the weather. The heavy front door looks like itâs seen a hundred and one winters and has yet to care.Â
Mac parks the truck in front of the house and cuts the engine. His hand finds yours, but nobody moves. Not right away.Â
âWell.â Mac chuckles with an exhale, âguess this is the moment of truth.â
You push your door open first, letting go of Macâs hand to climb out of the truck. The airâs different here. Itâs cooler and cleaner than California. It smells like dirt and old wood and the house you'd be turning into your home. Mac walks around the truck to open Waylonâs door, resting his arm against it.Â
âCâmon. At least pretend you donât hate it until after youâve seen it,â He says to him.Â
Waylon huffs, but he hops down next to his father and sighs, looking down at his shoes. âI donât hate it⌠I just donât wanna leave California. Travis is there.â
You sigh, eyes flicking up just in time to meet Macâs. You both knew it. But, Mac being Mac, nods like he expected him to say just that. âYeah, buddy. I know.â
Waylon kicks a rock then as you take a stroll towards the porch âWeâre best friends, dad. Now weâre moving away and I wonât have any more friends.â
Mac glances at you for help, soon realizing he doubts heâll be getting any. âHey.â He says softly as he looks at him, letting a hand squeeze his shoulder. âYou can still call him. Text him. Hell, weâll fly you back out in the summer. Travis can come here and stay too.â
Waylon doesnât answer. But he isnât frowning anymore either.Â
You place your hand on the railing, the porch immediately creaking under your weight as you step up. Waylon follows shortly after, stomping to see if itâll collapse under him. âWhat if I fall through?â
Mac laughs softly, âweâd get it cheaper.â
You roll your eyes, tugging the keys out of your bag and turning the lock. You nudge the door open, it sticks and Mac has to finish pushing it open with his shoulder. Thatâs first up on your list of things to fix. Waylon steps inside in front of you both, âWhoa.â
That seems to be the first real spark heâs shared in days.Â
Mac watches him as he peeks around the living and dining room of the house. Then he bumps his shoulder into yours. âAlright.â he chuckles. âWe got a âwhoaâ. Thatâs pretty promising for a ten year old.â
Waylon wanders back into the living room and then spins towards where a dark hallway, tucking away the stairs is. âMy room is up there?â He asks. Mac nods in response. Waylon sighs then, âi want a big one.â
Mac chuckles, rolling his eyes. âYouâre negotiating from a weak position there, pal.â
Something out the window catches Waylonâs eye and he takes off, halfway out the back door he shouts behind him, âthereâs a barn!â
You laugh, following him back out. You stand on the porch while Mac shakes his head behind you. Heâs got a small smile creeping in and plastering itself to his lips whether he wants it to or not. Waylonâs still running, and after a minute or two longer, he appears in front of the building.Â
Mac watches him for a little longer, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. âHeâs gonna be okay, right?â
You lean back into him, tipping your head just enough to press a kiss against his cheek. âOf course he will be.â
Mac squeezes around your waist again as you bring a hand down to cover his. When you both look up, you can see Waylon starting to climb the metal gate at the pasture's edge. âHey! Be careful!â Mac calls, âYou fall off that thing, you and your mama are both gonna be crying.â Then he grins and hooks his chin over shoulder. âKidâs got a big heart. Heâll fit in around here just fine.â
















