#how is it this busted . i swear to god . i got it at christmas i will cry and cry if this is a persisting problem

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

I Don’t Get It

Bam gets a proposal to do a photoshoot for a certain magazine with his girlfriend, Y/N, and she couldn’t be happier!

Bam Margera X Fem!Reader

(Fluff)

2.2k Words

Warnings: Extremely suggestive content, injuries, nudity, bimbo Y/N, crude language, kissing, lingerie, jealousy

An: Happy Valentine’s Day! This is the first non request fic from me in a while! XD While doing research for the Bam wedding fic, I got to rewatching Unholy Union, so this fic was inspired by the Playboy photoshoot Missy was in in episode 4! This moodboard by @princessthatcantfuckingsleep also reminds me a lot of Y/N in this one lol XD If you want an idea of how far ahead I write these fics, this was also inspired by the fact that I got an official Bam skate deck for Christmas!! So cool! Anyways, thank you for all of the requests and please keep sending them in!!

Getting calls from the hospital at midnight about Bam was a part of your routine but that didn’t stop you from rushing over every time to make sure your boyfriend was okay. You’d sit in the waiting room, anxiously filing your nails or fixing your lipstick in the mirror of your blush compact before a nurse called you up- you were in there so frequently for him that they knew you by name. A couple night shift nurses in their blue scrubs and ugly rubber hose-off clogs would shoot you dirty looks, but the notion that it was inappropriate to have your tits out in a hospital never really seemed to bother you.

She showed you to a room and you tottered in on your stilettos, your eyes going wide as you flicked the light on, “Oh my god- Bam!” There was your boyfriend, laying back on a gurney in a paper gown with his arm in a sling, a sight you had seen many times before. Hurrying over to his side, you sat on top of the sheets and threw your legs across his thighs. The pained grimace that Bam was wearing from his broken elbow was replaced with a grin as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him to your chest, “I was so worried about you! What happened?”

“Mmm…m’feel like shit, babe.” Bam murmured from your cleavage, his voice hoarse as he looked up at you with bags under his eyes, “Fell off the skate ramp’n busted my ass. ” You reached up, cupping his face in your palm and smoothing a shiny, bubble gum pink polished thumb over his cheek as machines in adjacent room beeped softly. At least he didn’t hurt that cute little face of his, you thought, but your heart still ached. Pouting, you cooed, “You have got to be more careful! I swear, next time you break that elbow, it’s gonna turn to dust!” Bam snaked a free arm around your waist, pulling you closer as he shot a glance back at the judgy nurses and mouthing something to them about taking a picture because it would last longer.

“You should really be more careful on your roller skates if you keep getting hurt like this!” Turning back to you at the sound of your voice, Bam paused for a second and blinked in disbelief, “I don’t roller skate, Y/N. I’m a pro skater.” You nodded, smiling as you gave him a peck on the cheek, “Yeah, that’s what I said!” You had been dating for well over a year and you still hadn’t gotten that down. Still, Bam couldn’t be mad at you- you were just too cute to annoy him.

Reaching up to run a hand through his black curls, you sighed “Anyways, is there anything I can do to help you feel better?” Bam thought for a second but dismissed the first idea he had though he knew you’d be more than eager for it. He groaned dramatically, wincing, “You know, I’d kill a man for some McDonald’s right now.” Nodding over to the untouched tray of hospital food on the bedside table, he chuckled a bit at your look of shock, “Are they really feeding you that?” You gawked at the gray, unseasoned slop on the tray in horror. If you didn’t know any better, you would swear those doctors were trying to poison him! Pulling him close again, you sighed, “Oh, you poor thing…” Bam knew that he, a grown man, would be perfectly fine without you treating him like a baby bird with a broken wing, but he couldn’t deny that it felt pretty damn good. Sitting up, his lips met yours in a sloppy and gross PDA kiss. This was how you showed your love to each other, much to the annoyance of everyone around you. Some couples go to art museums together or see plays- you and Bam just ate each other's faces.

If there was one thing that could make Bam feel better, it was his girl, so he decided that as soon as he got out of the hospital, he would take you to the mall as payback for your hard work at getting him back to health. The whole time you were right by his side, compassionately listening to him whine about how he wouldn’t be able to skate for at least a month and bringing him your “homemade” baked goods to lift his spirits. Bam couldn’t ask for a better girl, even if you did forget to take the chocolate chip muffins you “baked” for him out of the plastic package you bought them in before you visited him.

☆彡

The two of you were quite the odd couple- here you have this cool rockstar bad boy with this bubbly little thing hanging on his arm. It could have been the navy blue sling around Bam’s arm (the one that wasn’t glued to your lower back, handy for when guys would ogle you) or how your skirt barely covered up the last inch of your ass, but it was most likely the smattering of blotchy, wine colored hickeys on your neck and chest that caused people to stare at you. Your boyfriend was a jealous man, and even though he thought guys who got all pissy when their girlfriends showed a little skin were idiots, he still liked to show people who you belonged to. Plus, you didn’t care that you rarely left the house without them because you didn’t mind getting them.

Sitting on the shiny metal bench at some shoe store with tissue filled boxes crowded around you, you examined one of the many pairs of heels Bam picked out for you. You originally had your eye on a pair of bright blue see-through kitten heels you saw in the window, but as things tend to go, you got a bit carried away. The pair you held, feeling the sticky black patent leather of the seven inch heel, came out of a box with the word ‘Pleaser’ written on the side in curly cursive. They were stunning, but you had some concerns, even while you stared at them with stars in your eyes, “Oh, Bam, I'm not sure if I’d be able to walk in these…” He shook his head at your hesitancy, grinning, “Don’t worry about it. You like ‘em?” With a bit of hesitancy, you nodded, and he wordlessly took them from you, putting them back in the box, “Then we’re getting them.” You giggled, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek.

Usually Bam was pretty sensible with the stuff he picked out for you, but there was something odd about him today. Normally, your wardrobe was all pink pink pink, but the low rise leather mini skirts and vampy purple lingerie sets from Spencer’s (among other things) that your boyfriend paid for struck you as strange. As you sat down at one of those mall coffee shops together, you decided to finally ask the question, holding back giggles, “So, what’s all this for?” Bam looked down at the mountain of bags piled at your feet nonchalantly, then shrugged at you with a grin, “What? I’m not allowed to splurge on m’girl once in a while?” This was really exceeding good boyfriend behavior. You took a sip of your white mocha blendy coffee drink, “I mean, like- yeah, but this is just so much! There’s gotta be some reason you’re doing all this.”

He leaned back in his seat, looking left, then right, before leaning in and dropping his voice like he was about to tell you a secret, “Well, I got contacted by this magazine to be a guest photographer for a photoshoot, and they want you t’be in it.” God, your face just lit up. You were going to be in a magazine- an actual, real life magazine! You couldn’t believe it! Your eyes widened as you splayed your shiny acrylics on the table in disbelief, “Wait, really? Like, really really?” He nodded, smirking all cool at how giddy you got. In your excitement, you leaned across the table and accidentally grabbed his sling arm. Bam gasped in pain and you jumped back, clutching your hands over your mouth, your eyes going wide as some people turned to look at the spectacle you were putting on, “Oh my god- I’m so sorry!” But you quickly forgot about it and went back to your previous excitement while he was still recovering, “But what is it? What magazine? Vogue? Cosmo?” Your boyfriend chuckled at your eagerness, still clutching his arm as you looked up at him with those big ole eyes before clearing his throat and speaking low, “Well, it’s Playboy.”

☆彡

Ecstatic didn’t even begin to describe how excited you were. All morning before the people from Playboy showed up, you were gushing to Bam about it, following him on his heels like a puppy and prattling on about how excited you were, “I’m gonna be just like those cute girls in the bunny outfits! This is gonna be so much fun- Oh! We could even use some of the lingerie I already have! Wouldn’t that be cute?” Your boyfriend thought back to the frills, hot pink, and cheetah print that filled your underwear drawer- a far cry from the gothic-medieval idea they pitched to him. He smiled, shaking his head, “I had no idea you’d be so down for this…” Most girls generally wouldn’t be, but of course you were- this was the opportunity of a lifetime!

An hour later, the crew was there and you were all done up and dressed, complete with these black leather thigh high boots that took twenty minutes to lace up. Different from how you normally dressed, but definitely not bad. When you were ready, you went outside in one of those fuzzy robes to the set Bam rigged up- this big thing with a fire and knights with swords, very Medieval times. He was fiddling with the camera lense when you came giddily prancing over to him, “Hi, Bam!” Your boyfriend glanced up at you, looking you up and down, “Can I see what’s under that?” Nodding, you slinked the robe off your shoulders. He blinked a few times as he stared at you, shamelessly eyeing you with his jaw nearly in the ground. That tiny corset top did wonders for your boobs, and the rest of the outfit didn’t leave much to the imagination either. After a moment he shook himself out of his trance, looking back up to you, “Alright, let’s get shooting!”

You took photos outside until it got too cold, which frankly wasn't that long considering whoever organized the thing had the bright idea to shoot outside in the dead of November. Heading inside after you, Bam brushed off the dirt he acquired on his pants from having to lay army crawl style to take the photos, “You wanna get a few more?” He cracked a smile, “Maybe with a little less clothing?” Sitting down on the couch in the living room, you smiled coyly and rubbed your arms to warm yourself up as the rest of the crew filtered in, “Oh? Like how much less?” Bam shrugged nonchalantly, adjusting the camera lense as he set up, “I dunno. Naked ‘d be nice.”

“No way!”

☆彡

The two of you came to a compromise- you got to keep your underwear on while you held a hot pink skate deck you found lying around in front of your chest. A great idea on your part- you literally had Bam’s name shamelessly plastered across your tits. “Hey, Y/N? This isn’t Hustler. Can you, uh- little bit higher? Yeah, that’s it.“ Glancing down, you could hear him snicker when you realized you were accidentally exposing yourself. You giggled and blushed a little as you quickly fixed it, “Oh, sorry!” Your boyfriend murmured something to a very confused camera guy about not dating you for your brains.

All those hours of posing in the mirror for nobody but yourself in your bedroom really paid off, you thought, hearing Bam’s murmured comments from behind the camera, “Yeah, that’s it…perfect. Just like that.” Holding back giggles at all the attention you were getting, an idea suddenly crossed your mind. “Hey, Bam!” He pulled away from the camera for a second as you called out to him, a smile playing on your lips, “Let’s do one together!” Shaking his head, you could’ve sworn you saw a bit of color on his cheeks.

“C’mon! It’d be so cute- If you show your boobs, I’ll show mine!” You couldn't help from smirking as you watched him mentally weigh out the options of your very convincing argument. While the other photographers got their cameras ready, your boyfriend tugged off his shirt much to your delight as you happily tossed the deck to the side. It was a fact that you could talk Bam into anything if you asked sweetly enough. Straddling his lap as he sat low on the purple chaise lounge that he bought just for this photoshoot, you waited for the cameras to start flashing before you leaned down, capturing his lips in a sloppy kiss. Maybe you hammed it up for the camera a little, but Bam didn’t have a problem with it. Smiling at the feeling of rough, calloused hands squeezing posessively at your hips, you pulled away slightly, your eyelashes fluttering as you giggled softly against Bam’s lips, “Yr’the best boyfriend ever…”

#jackass #bam margera #jackass fanfiction #jackass fanfic #fluff #jackass x reader #bam margera x reader #missy is such a fashion icon how is nobody talking about this!

[hangon-silvergirl]

getting away with something (also available on ao3)

words and art by @hangon-silvergirl

Eddie and Chrissy burst out of the courthouse doors and into the late afternoon sunshine, hand-in-hand, breathless and beaming. She's his wife (Wife! Wife! Wife!) and he's her husband (HOLY SHIT), and Eddie almost feels like they're getting away with something. And maybe they are! As Chrissy turns to him with her megawatt smile stretching from ear-to-ear, Eddie doesn't resist the dramatic urge that bubbles into his brain; he spins Chrissy out and away from him, twirling her back into his arms and pulling her tight, reveling in the way she slots so perfectly against his chest. She's an eighteen-year-old, spur-of-the-moment bride—dolled up in a silky, lacey, poufy dress that she'd found at the thrift store—and she sighs into him like there's no question that this is where she's meant to be. And maybe it is.

Comparatively Eddie is sporting his least gaudy button-up and the only jeans he has with no holes in them. (And not that clothes matter much; he'd have married Chrissy naked if he'd had to.) "Shall we go home, Mrs. Munson?" he asks her, bursting at the seams with pleasure, high on this moment and on the promise in their wide-open future. "Yes please, Mr. Munson," she replies with a giggle. Another dramatic urge takes hold of him, and so Eddie leans into Chrissy and scoops her up bridal style. She makes a little eek! of surprise as he does so, then glows with pleasure once she realizes what he's done. Eddie carries her down the steps, out of the bubble of the last hour, and back into mundane Hawkins, where the van is sitting by a busted parking meter. Passersby are already double-taking at the sight of them, their expressions melting from casual indifference to blatant shock at lightspeed. They both spot Mrs. O'Donnell gaping at them from the mailbox two doors down, hands frozen mid-stamp-lick. Eddie and Chrissy wave at her, and, amazingly, blinking rapidly like she's been reset, the old crone waves back. Eddie sets Chrissy down lightly then kisses her desperately, absolutely nothing able to wipe the smiles off of both of their probably dumb, totally lovesick faces. After they break apart, they climb into the van. "N.I.B" by Black Sabbath blares appropriately out of the tinny speakers as Eddie starts the ignition. They've got aluminum cans and a cardboard sign proclaiming them Just Married attached to the bumper, and as they start driving away, they can hear the merry jingle-clink of former Chef Boyardee smacking off of the pavement as Ozzy proclaims I will give you those things you thought unreal. As the Munson's (THE MUNSONS! Smack that shit on a Christmas card!) peel out of downtown and head back to Forest Hills (drawing more eyes and discombobulated attention as they go), Eddie thinks that he and Chrissy won't have to post a marriage announcement in the Hawkins Post; they're like their own little unconventional parade, and everyone and their mother (including Chrissy's, ha!) will know what they've done before suppertime. Chrissy reaches across the center console and threads their fingers together, looking at him like he's blessed and unquantifiable and good enough to eat. Which, Jesus Christ, how is he such a lucky son-of-a-bitch? Eddie's never been happier to know that he's about to become a scandalous source of gossip; has never been more determined to disprove the assumptions that he knows are coming. With this perfect-for-him woman in the passenger seat, and the whole of forever in front of them to conquer for better or worse, the inevitable circle-jerk of narrowminded opinions doesn't really phase him, because they hold no weight. No matter how many idiots out there end up tutting and sighing and saying that he and Chrissy don't have what it takes, and what a shame... (Eddie squeezes Chrissy's hand, feels her wedding ring dig against his fingers, and thanks the universe for the gift of her; swears to God, if he's even out there, that Eddie will never take her for granted.) They do.

#hellcheer fanfic #hellcheer fanart #hellcheer #eddissy #eddissy fanfic #eddissy fanart #eddie x chrissy #chrissy x eddie #my stories #my art #hellcheer fanfic: getting away with something

[carolmunson]

vacation diaries - entry four

eddie keeps a journal while at the inn with you in northern indiana. a blurb series starting from the first morning after ’before there was a before’.

entries: one,two,three read steve's journal: here.

warnings: minors dni, 18+, adult themes, mentions of sex

what a fuckin minx.

jesus, i forgot for a minute what a solid fuck she is. i know that sounds gross but i am fucking reeling right now. she's in the shower and i just got the life fucked out of me. holy shit. i thought i came hard last night but holy god almighty. i'm never gonna get over this.

we didn't mean to fuck. i didn't mean to let it go that far, i didn't want this trip to be about that. but when she gave me that face when we got back upstairs how could i not? she's such a little tease. she was a little tease all day. the cutest tease i ever met.

she wanted to go to the dunes even though it's snowy and out to the piers and the light house. she swears she packed a warm enough coat but i can guarantee you that she's gonna have a cold tomorrow and then i'm gonna get a cold two days later. i can't even be mad at her about it though, her little frost bitten nose? i don't think i've ever met anyone i want to marry more than her.

we brought some kodak cameras with us to take pictures of everything, went to some tourist spots since we haven't been getting around as much as we want. gas is cheap out here which is nice. we saw some more christmas lights and went back to the diner. the waitress knows my name now so now i feel like i have to come here every couple of months so i don't lose the friendship. her name's marge. she reminds me of my grandma. she has a friend that lives at the women's shelter by the record store named sara-lynn but i don't think i've met her. i'll have to ask around and send marge's regards. she thinks it's cool that i play in a band and her nephew wants to learn how to play guitar but doesn't want him to get any tattoos.

but anyway, we got home after seeing the sights (she called them 'the seven wonders of northern indiana' because she's annoying) and dropping the cameras off to get the film developed, we were sitting in the common area again and she starts tracing my tatts on my arm and she knows how i love that. she's all 'don't listen to marge, your tattoos are unique' and i would obviously never listen to marge because my tattoos are metal as fuck but she can't be tracing them on my arm like that in front of the nice old people we played checkers with two nights ago. so i ask if she's tired and she wants to go upstairs and she basically runs so fast that the lady who runs the inn had to come yell at us for being too loud.

we weren't too loud when we fooled around but if i had it my way, they would've been able to hear her in canada.

i haven't really had her solo in a long time. solo like, not playing a game or a roleplay. just me as eddie and her as her. she tried to slip into calling me daddy at first and any other day i would've went along with it, especially since steve wouldn't hear, but i just wanted it to be us tonight. i told her i wanted to give it to her nice. i don't even think either of us could breathe while we were going at it. i hadn't felt more connected to her in my life. i kept telling her how much i loved her and it kept making her cry so we had to keep stopping and starting which is fine because i kept almost busting way too quick for it to be okay.

we came at the same time and both had to shove our faces in the pillows so we wouldn't get in trouble again. can't believe we didn't break the bed.

she just got out of the shower and came out with my t-shirt on. i think she wants to go again and i'm gonna fuck her brains out. she already fucked my brains out.

sorry i didn't talk about anything legit today but i'm only a man, diary. i'm only a dumb fucking man who loves his girl.

-ed

#the steddieverse #vacation diaries

[twochildreninamoteldemo]

Hi Maven!! Same q to everyone this week: what are your top 3 wincest episodes, and why?

ok im gonna cheat and do this in 2 ways hehe

a) top 3 sam/dean episodes

3. A Very Supernatural Christmas: has the samulet (their engagement ring, obviously!), you can palpably feel the isolation, the neglect, it's very two-children-in-a-motel-esque. and of course, the final scene, where i think, if there was any point in the series aside from the barn scene in which they would have said "i love you," it would have been there. the deep long stare, the watery eyes, the fact that they both know dean will be gone within the year, and then... "do you feel like watching the game?" ahhhhhhh drives me nuts

2. Swan Song: their love literally!!!!! saves the world, i mean come on. it has the whole wincest montage that you could literally set a richard siken poem to, or a taylor swift song to (look i know those are vastly different things but. bear with me), and it would just feel right. dean finally lets sam do things on his own. he lives because sam tells him to. sam manages to revoke his possession consent because of how much he's in love with dean, even as his fist is smashing dean's face into a pulp. ok i have to stop or i'm going to start crying in this goddamn airport.

Playthings: obviously. gothic horror episode of all time. picture-perfect family in the outside, secret sibling hidden upstairs. the way sam and dean's codependency is paired with that of the grandmother and her ghostly sister. the face-stroking. the almost kiss. god i swear it always looks like they're gonna kiss. sam writhing on the bed. dean staring at him like that. the subtext was about to bust through the screen, what with the acting and the way the plot and the meta-plot fit together perfectly. catherine tosenberger said it much better than i can, go read her article in TWC about wincest if you haven't!

b) top 3 family-horror-what-the-incestuous-freudian-fuck-is-going-on-here episodes

2. Devil's Trap: azazel uses john's body in a sexual manner against both sam and dean--primarily the latter but sam gets it, too. it's a chilling scene and really cements that this is what spn is about: never being able to escape the family. sam learns partly of azazel's plot, dean gets his daddy issues flayed onto him, and all through the eyes of the father. it's so well done.

3. Skin: imo the most damning thing the shifter says is, "i will be sorry to lose this skin. your brother's got a lot of great qualities. you should appreciate him more than you do." uh...what? the way he ties up sam and plans on torturing him also aligns with the shifter's pattern of turning into the husband and beating up the wife. another HMM moment actually comes from dean himself, when he tells sam that none of his friends will ever understand him and that dean's the only one who can...it's very isolating, kind of abuser tactics, and just. whew. this was episode SIX!!

In the Beginning: come on you knew i was gonna say this. aside from the obvious moments of "mom is a babe" (and remember, dean invokes sam into this moment as well..."sammy, wherever you are..."), samuel!azazel leaning over dean and smelling him, and samuel!azazel kissing mary--passionately returned(?), may i add, the plot itself sets up the winchester family as this enclosed, inbred unit. mary's kiss with her possessed father seal's sam's fate as part of azazel's army. the sexuality she shares with her father makes her son's blood diseased and cursed. the family line is tainted by incest. her kiss is what allows sam and dean to grow up that way, to become so codependent, what allows the moments of avsc, swan song, and playthings to happen! in the beginning. this begins the cycle of selling and saving souls--mary for john, john for dean, dean for sam. it's literally THEE spn episode, perhaps even more than playthings. even though sam's barely in it, his fate hangs over the whole episode, and this is full house of wincest at its finest.

#WHEW. spike im sorry that was a lot. i had a lot of fun with this tho. thank u #wincest wednesay #playthings #avsc #in the beginning #swan song #devil's trap #skin #full house of wincest #supernatural is a horror show #spn + the gothic #letters #deanwinchesterpregnant #spike tag #my meta

[never-wednesday]

Hey its a Lil late in the month but this disability pride month I wanna talk about long covid. I also have chronic pain and all sorts of worms in my brain but I've been dealing with that forever. So we're talking about the new stuff. Putting a readmore because I'm talking about what my experience being sick with covid was like and it's probably unpleasant to read.

It's December of 2022 and I work retail while I'm home from school for winter break. I mask up every time I leave the house, including for work. My parents don't. My father talks about covid not being a big deal. He caught it last year and it was a mild cold for him. He says "i ate lunch with someone who had covid last week and im fine!" My mother catches covid a week after that conversation. I test and am seemingly fine despite symptoms of a cold, and then three days later (one of those days was a full 8hr shift at work where I was worn ragged because it's almost christmas. I also got heat exhaustion because the AC was busted and I live in TX.) I feel the worst I have felt in ages. My mom insists that my dad takes me to get tested for the flu, and I schedule a covid test while I'm at it. My covid test comes back positive.

For the next week I am bedbound, only able to sit up enough to try to eat something and only able to stand up long enough to get myself to and from the bathroom. I sleep through the days when I can get the dayquil down, and cough through the nights when I can't get the nyquil down. I hallucinate when im tired. One of those nights I swear I talk to god. My brain is fogged and it hurts to breathe. I am worried I will need to be hospitalized because I can't seem to keep any water in my system. It's a miracle that I can write instructions for my father to cook ramen for me. I can only drink the broth. One morning I try to take dayquil to soothe my throat and I vomit. My stomach is empty and I stand over the sink wretching.

It feels like a miracle when I recover. Christmas day my symptoms mostly clear up and I'm able to sit up long enough to use my computer, something I was unable to do for the past week. I test negative, my second best Christmas present that year. The first is the Elden Ring soundtrack on vinyl. I am elated that I made it put the other end.

A week later my friend comes from a few cities away to visit for a few days. We go shopping one afternoon, spend a few hours standing around at the local game store looking at dice and miniature plastic dragons. We get home at 6pm. I collapse into bed and wake up 3 hours later. I talk to my doctor about it in January, she says it should go away over time. Six months maximum.

I spend my spring semester exhausted. I start using a cane to make sure I can walk across campus. I'm thankful that many of my friends are also disabled because they understand when I need to ask people to slow down, or bail because of my fatigue. Many of the abled people in my life do not understand. One day I go out to a museum, a thing I am excited to do. When I get home at 4pm I make myself popcorn, then collapse into bed. I can't walk to the sink without my cane, I can barely get out of bed. This is what I have to adjust to.

Six months pass. The fatigue is not gone. I am home for summer break, and I try talking to my parents about my fatigue. They don't understand. I talk to my doctor. She is convinced it's depression symptoms. My mental health is largely the best it's been in years- I've been in treatment for months now and it is helping.

It's been about seven months now. I am not receiving treatment, nor will my doctor acknowledge that I have long covid. She has relented into testing for physical things. I got a CT scan, and have a sleep study scheduled for when I get back from visiting family in August. Depending on what these turn up and how my doctor reacts I am preparing to find a new doctor. I am not excited about this, because I like my doctor. But if she refuses to acknowledge that what has happened to me is likely covid and therefore will not treat me I will find someone else.

I don't really have a moral here beyond please mask up, get vaccinated, etc. Even if covid doesn't fuck you up it might fuck up someone you pass it to. Or even worse, it can kill the immunocompromised people around you. Please have compassion for the people around you. My father, who is a loving and caring man, brought this illness home to me. It wasn't out of malice, but it still has affected my life for probably the rest of my life.

#disability pride month #disability #covid #covid isn't over #disabled #okay to rb #lyra.txt

[awesomehoggirl]

ok interesting turn of events . i can no longer watch twitch while charging my ipad because it makes it stop charging 👍 what

#how is it this busted . i swear to god . i got it at christmas i will cry and cry if this is a persisting problem #ive also had problems with the apple pencil being weird so someone is setting me up #also i dont know how its gotten weird i have barely left my house with it and only to school without the pencil . huh and hm

[cherrykindness]

wild tweets |

pairing: Harry Styles x Actress!Reader

summary: as newlyweds, you and harry read thirsty comments for buzzfeed.

warning: it's thirsty tweets, so below there is adult humor 😳

"It's a bright, sunny morning in Los Angeles, and there's nothing I want more than to be on BuzzFeed and read wild tweets alongside my husband."

"Thirsty tweets, babe." Harry corrected, laughing out loud with the producers behind the cameras.

"Thirsty Tweets." You said quickly, putting your hand over your mouth to stifle a giggle. "I'm terrible at that, I'm sorry. Can we start over?"

"Let's take a break for one to two minutes. You've given us a great introduction, Y/N."

You shook your head, smiling shyly before turning to Harry, who was already watching you with that easy smile at the corner of his lips. You liked how his hand remained firmly on yours, making those circular movements with the thumb that always served as a natural medice for your anxiety.

"You look so fucking beautiful."

The pleated dress with flounce sleeves fit you like a glove. You had made peace with the various shades of white since the wedding and knew that Harry liked to see you in that color too.

"Thank you, you're not too bad either, Styles."

You intimately suspected that Harry would always seem far beyond that "not bad" that came out as a euphemism from your mouth. He wore nothing but a pair of bell-bottom pants in a strong shade of blue and a soft vest printed with fluffy little sheep on a striped American collared shirt - in your opinion, no one could look better in farm animal clothing than Harry Styles and Princess Diana with her red "Black Sheep" sweater in the 1980s. In contrast, you knew your husband well enough to know that he was arrogant and knew exactly how hot he looked - you also made your thoughts clear enough when you kept him backstage beyond ten minutes in a rather heated kissing session.

"Are you anxious?" you asked curiously, remaining with downcast eyes fixed on the strokes that remained assiduous on your warm skin. "To read about how the whole internet dreams of fucking my wife?! Of course." Harry joked, leaning over to leave a small one on your cheek. "We agree on that, don't we? Although I'm a little nervous, I'm really interested to know all the crazy things they say about you. Everyone knows you're mine at the end of the day, that's enough."

At the end of the break, you and Harry made a silent agreement that you should be the first to pick up one of the scattered papers in the red pot. There were quite a significant amount of tweets, and as much as you were used to reading rather sordid things about your husband on the Internet, the excitement was there as if you were wading into uncharted territory.

"I would be a good girl all year round if Santa guaranteed me a threesome with Harry and Y/N Styles on Christmas Eve." You laughed, Harry staring at the camera with an expression close to the meme of the surprised Pikachu. "You guys are incredibly nasty, I love it."

"If that was the first one, I'm really worried about the next ones." Harry commented with a little corner smile, picking the next tweet out of the bucket. "I have an entire folder on Pinterest dedicated to Harry Styles' hands, and let me tell you why: those hands are art, and art needs to be recognized."

"What- Guys, you promised you wouldn't post my anonymous tweets here." You quipped with false reproach, laughing at your own stupid joke while everyone else in the studio did the same. "But I can't blame her, honestly." Shaking your shoulders, you opened another piece of paper. "Harry Styles finally confessed that he wrote Watermelon Sugar for Y/N!!!! Are you guys imagining the same thing as me?!!!!!! 🥵🍆💦"

"Exhausted emoji, eggplant emoji, and water emoji?" Harry frowned, staring at the tweet you held up. "I imagine you're in need of a vacation somewhere refreshing and you're craving a fruit that everyone eats like it's really a vegetable."

"That reminded me of that story-" You laughed, hiding your face on the table as Harry continued to offer a poker face to the camera, struggling not to keep up with you laughter. "I'm sorry, lovie, I have to share this with the rest of the world." You stated, wiping a few tears from the corner of your eyes. "Harry always wears those fancy suits to concerts, right?! Right! Turns out he looks really hot in some, like his ass molds perfectly into those tight pants and everything. I was home that night because I wasn't feeling well enough to face the big crowds, but I was still following everything on twitter. It was a concert in London, not so far from where we lived at the time, so it was obvious that he would come home after it was over. I follow some portals that do really fast updates of pictures, videos, etc; everything that happened at Harry's concert was on my timeline in a matter of seconds. When one of these profiles uploaded a picture of him with his back to the camera in a heavily accentuated black and white suit, I quickly sent him the image along with a peach emoji and then wrote "looks good tonight". He didn't reply to me until a few hours later, of course, but I obviously didn't expect a "ready for a Fifth Avenue peach salad for dinner?" and numerous cutlery emojis."

Harry rolled his eyes comically, indulging in laughter as did everyone else who occupied the backstage area.

"I'm against the eroticization of emojis." He said between uncompensated breaths, shaking his head negatively. "Let's go to the next ones, please, I'm already feeling exposed enough here."

"I like your old-fashioned spirit, baby." You assured him with a smile, laying on the sturdy shoulder hidden under the fluffy fabric.

Harry chuckled low, leaving a little kiss on the top of your head before selecting the next paper. The fans would die when that video aired, everyone was sure. You two easily forgot the cameras when you were side by side, and the public display of affection had never been a problem.

"My life mission is to look at someone the way Harry looks at Y/N and be reciprocated the way Y/N looks at Harry, then I could die happy." Harry read. "That was very good and healthy, thank you!" He smiled. "But don't settle for death in that case, please. Just make sure to keep that person around forever."

"Awn, we got so sweet now." You made a pout. "Thank you for sending us something so cute! I really hope you find the right person soon." Sending a kiss to the camera, you moved on to the next tweet. "I wouldn't want to get a golden ticket to visit Willy Wonka's factory, I would like to get a golden ticket to actively participate in Y/N and Harry Styles' Honeymoon.

"That was creative, so I will disregard the fact that you removed my last name from my wife's name." Harry joked.

"I will always be an Y/L/N." You flashed the tongue. "We had a great Honeymoon, but I know you guys already know all about it because there are pictures all over the internet of outings that I don't even remember existed."

"Even though we chose a rather reserved city, many paparazzi still managed to photograph some of our nights there." Harry agreed. "There was one particular day when we opted to have dinner at a restaurant near the beach. Y/N had found it even before the trip, it was pretty laid back and we could spend the evening at karaoke. I don't really remember what happened, but we woke up the next day with a terrible hangover, still wearing the clothes from the dinner and with several headlines saying that I was cheating on my wife in the middle of our Honeymoon with a blue-haired italian girl."

"That wig made me sexy, man." You blinked, laughing as you remembered the situation. "It's a shame the paparazzi only got low quality images, but I swear I looked really amazing that night. Italy, I miss you."

"We're coming to the end and I haven't had to ask production for a glass of water yet, thank you to whoever selected these tweets." Harry raised his thumb to the camera, smiling before turning his gaze back to the small paper he had chosen. "Y/N could literally punch me in the face and I would just bow down and thank them for it." He laughed. "She has heavy hands, so I would rethink that choice."

"It takes strong hands to be a superheroine." You blinked gracefully, referring to your works as a Marvel actress. "I move around a lot during the night, so I'll take this lovely opportunity to say that twitter can dismiss all the malicious theories about Harry always show up with a new bruise all over his body."

"Please stop making indecent assumptions while Y/N is aggressive with me at night only unconsciously, her father has access to social media."

You laughed, clearing your throat before reading the next obscenity aloud.

"I would sell all my possessions to have Y/N sitting on my lap for ten seconds."

"Oh my God." Harry laughed out loud, throwing his head back. "I should have said that in our wedding vows."

You shook your head, laughing low as you set the tweet aside.

"That was pretty funny and cheeky, I approve."

"Okay, looks like we finally got to the last one." Harry announced, waving the paper in the air dramatically before opening it. "Harry could literally crush me with those boots while fuc- I need that glass of water." He said dumbfounded, hiding his face between his hands after throwing the tweet over his shoulder. You laughed out loud next to the organizers, and meanwhile Harry leaned his head on your bust, staring at you still with wide eyes. "Please promise that we will be careful with our future children on the internet."

#harry styles imagine #imagine1d #imagine harry styles #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry imagine

[needleandhammer]

Uhhhh the alternative to “plenty implied”, where Jensen is a gift to the reader, YESPLEASE!!!! Would you be willing to tell us the outline of what you had in mind? It sounds original and AMAZING!

Hehehe. Thank you for asking. Yes, I had started sketching out this Reader as someone who reluctantly works with her badass mom who heads a crime ring spanning several cities across the nation. Reader is a regular acquaintance of Jake's sister, and that was how she met him and developed a crush on him. Years went by like this and Reader resigned herself to living a crime life with her mother whom she adores and respects, but she doesn’t feel like she can date a regular person much less someone like Jake who has a military career. Here's a little drabble under the cut.

“Fucking kidding me.”

Jake twisted his arms in desperate attempt to free himself. No one looking at him would guess he had served on an elite team of the Special Forces; a tech specialist with master combat training. No. Not when this was Jake’s second time getting kidnapped in the same number of weeks. Second time, y’all. During the fucking Christmas holidays too.

The first time, Jake had gotten roughed up. The culprits this time around were different, he assumed because they hadn’t hurt him. Even the ropes twisted around him, though tight, had a silken feel. Jake had spent a hot minute forcing himself to just sit still and breathe. To wrack his brain for possible perpetrators.

Terrorists? Someone connected with the Bolivian crime group that The Losers busted a couple years ago? Had the Lithuanian warlord managed to escape from prison?

But why the back and forth? There hadn’t been much talking when he was kidnapped the first time. This time, he woke up alone, blindfolded, not a whisper of another presence near him. His wrists were bound behind his back and knotted to some kind of wooden pillar; he had barely any reach to explore his surroundings.

Jake stiffened in place. He could hear a door sliding open, feel frosty air sweep his way.

“Oh my god.” You dropped everything you were holding. You only barely caught your name falling like a question from Jake’s lips.

Sight returning to him, Jake gasped in relief at your appearance before him. Like a guardian angel, you were tugging at the ties on him and looking so beautiful and fierce Jake could have kissed your right then. It wouldn’t have been the first time he was compelled to do so.

Busy trying to undo his bindings all the while swearing quietly to yourself allowed Jake to take you in more fully. A pinch in his wrist snapped him out of his dopey admiration for you.

“Shit, did they get you too?”

You glanced at him and kept working until he was free.

“We gotta figure out where this place is. I don’t know who these people are but” –

You took a deep breath. “Jake.”

He looked around for his glasses. “You got a phone on you?”

As a matter of fact, you did. And it was time to give a strongly worded call to Narin.

“Yeah. I’ll grab it.” Reaching into your bag, you asked, “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

He peered through the glass of his glasses and put them on.

“I’m good.” He watched as you dialed and held the phone to your ear. When he tried to speak you held up your hand, gesturing for a moment. You did a double take at him and Jake’s eyes grew wide seeing you march right up to him.

You yanked him by the front of his shirt down and stared at his forehead. How had you missed it?

You were so close to him, your breath feathering against his mouth as Jake blinked back at you, confused. “What”--

You pulled away and huffed as the call connected. “MOTHER. This is not happening.”

You had endured a stressful drive in the snow because your mother insisted, begged, for you to join her for a holiday getaway to the upstate cabin.

What the fuck. “This is not it. I cannot believe you!”

“Darling, I explicitly promised you a most satisfying gift. You know how special Yuletide is. You used to love baking and decorating with me.”

“This isn’t at all the same” – You sucked in another breath, face warming with embarrassment in front of poor Jake. “I am calling Narin to pick us both up.”

“Sweet girl, Narin’s not driving all the way back there. She already helped me stock up the cabin and tied a beautiful bow around your gift. Besides.” You could hear the clinking of glass in the background and just knew she and Narin were celebrating the success of this torture they were putting you through. “Nicholas swore the storm would hit upstate right about now. There’s nowhere for either of you to go. So get cozy and enjoy. You work too hard, dear.”

“Nicholas?”

“My favorite weather reporter.”

The one with the eye patch. May heaven help him in the hands of your mother.

“This is unacceptable,” you said.

“What’s unacceptable is that you haven’t given me grandbabies yet.” She sighed dramatically. “So I had to bridge the gap between you and my future s”--

“Mother. You will send a car to us as soon as weather permits I don’t care if they drive here at ten miles per hour I am not”--

“Oh, no dear, the storm must be messing with our phone lines. I…can’t…hear–stay there…”

Your eyes rolled upward, listening to your mother’s version of a spotty connection.

“Oh, and we’re shutting down your phone for the next forty-eight hours. Love you so much, darling!”

You looked at the phone in your hand. No amount of swipes and presses brought it back to life. That would be Isak’s work, your mother’s hacker.

Jake called your name gently. You looked over at him.

“I’m so sorry, Jake.”

“What’s going on?”

You sighed before seeking those crystal blue eyes of his, gentle now and patient. Then you looked just above his brow and grimaced. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

In the bathroom, Jake blinked at his reflection. He squinted the words inked in pristine print on his forehead.

SON-IN-LAW

😅 So yeah. Her mom is kind of extra. Mom just wants so much to spoil Reader. Cue the winter storm that forces the two of them to spend time together. I have these stages of their relationship they hit but I'm really bad with plot and keeping up with multi-chapter fics.

#jake jensen #jake jensen x female reader #the losers

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

some thoughts on what living with bakugou would be like:

-he’s weirdly organized. like he remembers where he put everything every time so if ur ever looking for something, most times he’ll just find it for u and it takes like .2 seconds

-will cook meals a large majority of the time, but if u bake sweets he’s an absolue sucker for them.

-if you’re like reALLY allergic to a certain type of bug or plant,, man’s got his eyes pEELED whenever y’all go somewhere together. like lets say, for example, ur allergic to bees. bakugou is blowing bees up left and right and u look at him and ur “no!! stop!!! bees are endangered!!” ,, he looks u dead in the face, like ur stupid or something and says “yeah. because of me. i’m gonna kill all of them.”

- if u have to get in an argument with somebody over the phone, he wants to hear it. like he’ll ask u to put the phone on speaker and he’ll just make mocking, bitchy faces while the other person is speaking. like,, he lets u fight ur own battles, but he wants to be there bullying the other person mercilessly in the background.

-if he doesnt like a song ur playing, he’ll just skip it. won’t ask, wont look at u, he’ll just skip it. borderline dick move tbh

-gets grumpy if u don’t follow his nightly routine on time, but also wont go to sleep without u. like he’ll just stay up and crab at u until u go to bed with him

-likes when u brush his hair for him. like u’ll be brushing yours, totally by urself fine, and he’ll just look at u and clear his throat until u roll ur eyes and beckon him over

-if u get like a bag of junk food or something,, do nOt leave that shit out, bakugou will finish it 10/10 times. he’ll finish it but then look at u and “why the fuck would u even bring that shit in here, huh? u tryin’ to get me out of shape or somethin?” ,, and u look at him like “idk man maybe just dont eat it then.” ,,, the glARE he gives u in response is muRDEROUS //pls this is quite literally the only area he lacks self control dont remind him\\

-has absolutely no regard for neighbors. he yells a lot and if y’all get noise complaints he just glares and 😡💥at the neighbor until they get scared and leave

-he thinks it’s funny to just subtly move things from time to time. like, for example, lets say plates. ,,, so like, u always keep plates on the left side of a certain cabinet, right?? but if he’s putting dishes away and feeling particularly petulant that day, he’ll just put away the plates on the right side instead. man’s then proceeds to smirk and laugh at u every time u open the wrong side of the cabinent from then on with a “jeez, u rlly are a moron, huh? they’re on the right side, remember?” god he’s annoying

-genuinely enjoys going grocery shopping by himself. like idk he just thinks it’s his quiet, personal time, u kno?? and he enjoys doing super-intense meal prep for the week anyways so he’s gotta make sure he gets the right ingredients

-u just hear muffled screaming from time to time. like u’ll be in the kitchen eating breakfast totally calm, and he’s making the bed and all the sudden just a “jesus fucking christ, swear to fuck im gonna blow up this stupid fuckin’ fitted sheet!” (which honestly??? valid. fuck fitted sheets.)

-if he doesn’t want to hang out with the bakusquad but they’re forcing him he’ll text u something like “I love you.” and then ofc ur like “i love u too. but also, u never just say that to me normally?? is something wrong?” and then total radio silence from him for like 20 mins and u get super worried,, and then he just sends u a video of mina or denki being loud with a “Can you get sick or something? I want to come home.” ,, i- 🧍

- isnt going to want a pet,, but if u have, like, a dog already when u move in with him, then it’s going to become bakugou’s dog. if he’s going to have to have a dog than he’s gonna make sure it likes him more than u

-hates doing laundry. will volunteer to do dishes instead 11/10 times

-he doesn’t sing in the shower but 100% plays the drums on the walls or his own stomach fight me on this

-he hates the smell of nail polish/nail polish remover. so if ur painting ur nails he’ll just walk in the room and walk directly out,, quickest way to get alone time

-speaking of alone time- say bye. u’ll get none of it,,, it’s not that he’s constantly on top of u or like talking to u, he just always sorta ends up in whatever room u are. like a cat, pretty much. like he won’t say anything, but if u get up to do something, he gets up and chooses to move his lounging to somewhere nearby

-he likes to scare the shit out of u. just like, rlly juvenile stuff like hiding around corners just to jump out at u. will just stand there and laugh when u scream, and will never, never apologize

-he gets weirdly worked up about hair?? just hates it, thinks it’s disgusting if he sees a stray hair anywhere. even if its his own. like yes it’s gross ig, but he gets so 🤮 about it

-he does house chores unecessarily loudly. like, u watch him and it seems like he’s doing everything totally normally,, but jesus christ why is it so loud

-gets bitchy around christmas if u decorate without him. he will complain the eNTIRE time if he does have to decorate, but will throw an even bigger fit if u dare to do it without him

-he gets mad if people drive too fast in ur neighborhood/ past ur apartment complex. like, y’all have 0 (zero!) kids, but he’s still up at the window like “Slow the fuck down, asshole! Why the hell doesn’t anyone have any common fuckin’ sense around here? That’s dangerous, you piece of shit!”

-if u sing around the house a lot, it’s the only habit of urs he’ll have absolutely nothing to say about. like it doesn’t even matter if ur a good singer or not, he just likes when he can hear u in the house even if ur not in the same room. he finds it comforting

-bakugou hates having people over to ur place. he thinks of it like his calm-space/safe-haven and it rlly pisses him off when people are there

-on the rare days he doesn’t have to work at all and stays home, mans is a total baby. he just refuses to get up for anything other than bathroom or meals and even then goes straight back to bed. he takes basically a 24 hr nap and expects u to do the same with him he’s so dramatic pls

-will make snarky comments about reality tv shows with u. just the bitchiest shit possible bc he enjoys trash talking as an art form, and absolutely does not care who it’s about

-likes to watch u do skincare stuff. he won’t ask questions and will be borderline offended if u offer some to him, but he just likes to watch u do it. man’s thinks of it as like his personal asmr

-hates online shopping. (pls i have absolutely no explanation for this one i just know its true)

-he has a lot of pride in his house so it’s actually rlly well decorated. like, he would never consent to living somewhere busted, lmaooo, so if u dont kno how to decorate he’ll figure it out for the both of u

-u can always tell if he’s falling asleep bc he constantly does that weird full-body jerk. like the one where it feels like ur falling

#bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha fic #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #mha fic

[glassbxttless]

Flip Zimmerman x f!Reader

Fluffmas Day 14: Holiday Traditions

Word Count: 1,036

Warnings: mentions of nativity & a baby jesus, pregnancy mention

It’s Flip’s first Christmas with you. His first Christmas being subjected to the matching pajamas, the stocking stuffers, and throwing the poor cat into a sweater. He sleeps peacefully, for the first time in weeks. He’s gotten a leave of absence and he’s intending to spend it in the best way he possibly can, tucked up next to you in your bed. His place seems too lonely this time of year.

He knows you’ll spend the weekend lying on the couch with his head on your lap, you’ll be petting his hair and scratching his scalp while you read by the light of the oil lamp on your side table. You’ve prepared him plenty for the week full of “Christmas Traditions” he’s about to take part in. And something in him can’t wait. Something in him is more excited to share your traditions than he’s ever been. He’s not ever been one for celebrating the holidays, not since he was small— not since he lived in his childhood home. But here he is, excited to wake up in your bed and jump into so many new things he can’t hardly stand it.

Morning hits, it’s Christmas Eve. You wake Flip up with the softest kiss to his temple, brushing his ever growing hair away from his eyes. “Good morning, my love.” You whisper. His eyes are fluttering open, glimmering back at you in the sunlight shining from the window. Quiet pools of honey, shimmering in what you like to call, Christmas magic. He rubs over his face as he sits up, bare chest being warmed by the same sunlight that makes his eyes shine so beautifully. “We’ve got so much to do today!” You grin at him, as he’s kicking his legs over the side of the bed. You hand him a pair of matching pjs. He takes his time tying up the string and buttoning each of the buttons. He may be excited, but god is he exhausted.

He watches as you sit on the floor, putting together your nativity scene. The one that sits out on your balcony. The one you insist on not putting baby Jesus in until Christmas Day. He helps you string the garland over your fireplace and popcorn around your tree. It warms his heart when he sees you pull out your craft box, only to show him the empty ornaments you were able to sit and customize for the tree. Yours is sweet, simple, shows off your names and the year. Your first Christmas together. Your heart is soaring, you’ve never felt better for the Holidays. Flip gets to hang them both on the tree and you swear there’s a smile set on those lips, the ones you’ll get to kiss under the hanging mistletoe.

He smiles when you break out the baking dishes for sugar cookies. His whole face lights up when he sees the flour on your nose and the smile on your face. He’s quiet, observant, and he’s always loved the cookies you’ve sent to work in his lunches. He listens to you tell him about your family Christmas’ growing up, he even tells you about how the holidays were celebrated in his household. You take note of how different things were for him. You smile, hoping your surprise later would bring just as much joy to him as your time spent together has brought to you.

You turn the tv on, putting on an old dvd of a Christmas Story. He’s sitting at the end of the sofa, with you cuddled up against his side. He’s got an arm wrapped around your shoulders and maybe he’s admiring the Christmas lights on the tree. He’s heard you talk about how every Christmas Eve, your family would gather around the fireplace and listen to whatever Christmas story your grandfather would bust out for the year. You would all hang your stockings together and you’d curl up in your beds, awaiting the arrival of Santa. But maybe this year, after your movie and when Flip is waiting by the fireplace to hang your stockings— you place the prettiest menorah right on the mantle. “I know it’s not the same as being with your family, but it’s not all about my traditions.” You whisper to him, giving his hip a squeeze.

He smiles, about to shed a tear. And he starts to laugh, “birdie, it’s not Hanukkah.”

“I know that, dummy.” You tease, smiling at him. “But we didn’t spend any of it together, and I thought you might like to teach me some of your traditions. Some things I’ll have to know for next year.” You grin, nudging his shoulder and he laughs from the bottom of his belly. A smile brighter than you’ve ever seen on his face. He thinks you’re joking, but the thought of knowing you’re thinking of spending a whole other year with him makes him feel warm and happy. Something he hasn’t felt in ages.

And years do pass, sharing the same Christmas Eve traditions. Matching pjs, decorating with garland, crafting your yearly ornaments, a Christmas movie, and hanging your stockings. And maybe he’s finally able to open up— maybe he wants to share Hanukkah with you. Maybe he wants to share Hanukkah with the daughter that’s slowly growing in your belly. The one you’ll get to teach all of these traditions to, the one that will cuddle up between the two of you during the Grinch.

He’ll get to watch his daughter grow up making Christmas cookies with her mama and wearing matching jammies. He’ll get to hear her squeals and happy laughs when she opens her gifts. And maybe he’ll call up his ma, he’ll bring his little one over for Hanukkah and his blushing bride. He’s done a lot of things and remembered a lot around this time of year— he’s thankful he has his own things to share with his family. The one he created. And he’s thankful you’ve shared every piece of what makes the holidays perfect to you, with him. He’s forever thankful. But after the first of the year, he’s lacing up his boots, sliding on his shoulder holsters, and calling it a successful holiday season.

*

*

@sacklerscumrag @mrs-zimmerman @d-dark-thoughts-girl @xjsteph @fizzywoohoo @candycanes19 @thepriceofstars @2000andwhat @ellenmunn @loganluckylover @themuseic @clydesfavoritegirl @caillea @driversmutbucket @tashastrange89 @daughterofaries @cornmousequeen @alpha-lobito @mrs-kylo-ren @peachyproserpina @mrs-gucci @millenialcatlady @leatherboundbirate @jynzandtonic @paterson-blue @awkward-katiesaur @daydreamsofren @goddessofsprings @qvinteroexc @eagerforhoney @purplebtsmagic @hedgy-hog @simpin_mama @thepalaceofmelanie @starryeddie

#glassbxttless #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman x f!reader #25 days of Fluffmas #tw: mentions of pregnancy #tw: christianity

[jedi-valkyrie]

holidays w/ the avengers

warnings: some swearing bc it’s me

pairings: none! literally just a lil headcanon set

characters included: like all of them??? idk a shit ton of them at least

so we’re going back to 2012-esque avengers tower

clint’s in the vents and thors eating some pop tarts

no but they’re all living in the tower, they’ve each got their own rooms

around probably 7am people start getting up

first is steve, then probably sam and so on and so forth

clint and tony are around the last to get up

natasha made clint coffee and that was his christmas gift

he was by no means disappointed

they have a huge ass tree

it’s so big

and so unnecessary

most of the ornaments are from the dollar tree

carol pops in for like a second- says hi and brings a bowl of pretzels and then gets the fuck out of there

tony bought them all matching sweaters as a joke

only bruce and steve are wearing them

sam takes pictures

thor literally busts through the fucking door at like 11am with a santa hat on

loki is also with him- walking very far behind him and trying to readjust the door hinges

he is wearing all black bc he’s a god and this holiday is stupid

thor also has a full rotisserie chicken

sam makes bucky wear a santa hat

bucky is not pleased.

wanda and pietro have matching hanukkah sweaters

bruce switches to a hanukkah sweater bc it’s more comfortable

natasha is wearing nothing festive but clint bought her christmas light earrings so you bet your ass those are on

tony gloats about how much each of his presents cost

steve gave everyone giftcards

natasha got steve a fancy watch

she got bucky a cool little ring

got nat would be such a good gift giver

so would fucking wanda omg

wanda is such a little pinterest bitch who writes down anything that someone says they want in her notes app

wanda got loki something and this grown ass man almost cried

he was so touched

it was probably just a silver ring or something but it had extreme emotional value

pietros gift are shit

they’re funny as shit though

he gets tony a huge fucking block of coal

he gets wanda a really cute sweater and she cries and wears it for 3 days straight

he buys steve book abt the moon landing conspiracy theory

sam takes a picture of steve holding the book proudly and posts it online

sam is basically the photographer bc he loves posting random embarrassing shit that makes peoples agents call him and yell at him

bucky also gets everyone gift cards

stephen comes in with brussel sprouts and doesn’t speak to anyone

wanda will proudly shove her culture down everyone’s throat

she is making star of david cookies and is educating every single bitch on the second temple

she is the loml

half of these bitches are agnostic anyways

they just like having a reason to be with each other

steve does say grace at dinner and stephen interrupts him with some psychological/existential bullshit

sam boos him

no but they’re all kinda fucked up

so they use the holidays as an excuse to appreciate each other without acknowledging the shit they’ve been through

just like a family <3

ew i hated that

note: i hope you’re having a nice holiday/winter break!!!! i love you all. stay healthy bitches.

#avengers headcanon #marvel headcanons #captain america headcanons #bucky barnes headcanons #steve rogers headcanon #bucky barnes #sam wilson headcanon #loki laufeyson headcanon #thor headcanon #thor odinson #natasha romanoff headcanon #natasha romanov #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff headcanons #sam wilson #stephen strange #i will not be erasing these characters identities!!! not in this house bitch #lmk if i fucked anything up though!! #marvel fluff #marvel

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper - Part Twelve

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader Warnings: Mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of drug use, fluff, smidge of angst? Length: 1.7k Notes: Managed to whip up this bad boy during a quiet moment today and should probably make y’all wait for it but I don’t really do posting schedules (as you’ve noticed) so enjoy. Not beta’d, not proof read, I’ll die on this messy hill.

Series Masterlist

Surprisingly, life didn't change too much after that night. Frankie continued to run his acreage and oversee the making of this year's cider. With some encouragement and support from you, he was starting to expand the business and already had a few pubs in the closest city clamouring to have his product on tap.

Meanwhile, the improvements on the house were nearing an end, for the indoors list anyways. The first thing Frankie had helped you do was to install your new soaker tub, immediately followed by christening it by making soft, slow love to you inside of it.

There hadn't even been any water, your impatience to be close to each other wouldn't allow for that. You had just stripped out of your coveralls, convenient work-wear for people who fucked like rabbits you had to admit, and sat in his lap with your arms and legs wrapped around him. His hands guiding your hips in a slow rocking motion, breathing each other's air as your open mouths hovered in a not-quite kiss, only breaking eye contact when you threw your head back as you came.

Autumn passed quickly and Winter had gripped Vermont, cloaking the countryside in a heavy blanket of white. Christmas was a cozy affair, you and Frankie had been asked to join Jacquie and Mark in their family's merriment. It had stirred something inside of you, watching a functional family laugh, sing, argue, eat, and love with such abandon. 

It was everything you'd dreamt, initially, for your future with Brad. Now? Now you were starting to picture that future with Frankie's face as the patriarch, you just haven't built up the nerve to broach the subject yet. 

You'd started working at the bakery, enjoying the early mornings surrounded by rising dough and sculling back coffees with the adorable older ladies who ran the place. You'd also begun doing the books for Morales Acres and Catfish Brewery. Frankie was a veritable genius but he claimed he had no patience for keeping receipts and tracking numbers.

You had a sneaking suspicion he was playing dumb in an effort to give you more time together but you really didn't mind. Your break-of-dawn mornings at the bakery had you tired, but after a full day of renovating or bookkeeping, you were downright exhausted and ready for bed by eight pm. This, mixed with Frankie monitoring the brewing, bottling, and distribution of his cider and networking at bars and pubs throughout the state meant the two of you rarely saw each other.

All of your hard work in your own house had made you a popular friend to call when someone needed decorating advice, or a helping hand once they realized they couldn't tile their kitchen backsplash solo. You never charged for your time, although payment had initially been offered until work had got around that you preferred a good meal and conversation over money. I mean, sure, you could use the cash but it just didn't seem right. And you loved helping people and making deeper connections with the town you now truly felt you belonged in.

Tuesday evenings had become an unofficial date night for the two of you. The bakery was closed on Wednesdays and bar owners tended to be less interested in business halfway through the week, something to do with the rush of the previous weekend having worn off and the worry of setting up for another one starting to grow.

This meant you could stay up late, enjoy a proper homemade dinner, maybe even watch a movie or share a bottle of wine while soaking in your big ass tub. It usually ended as a sleepover, your house being the preferred location; Frankie's loft was perfectly fine but it did lack a certain homey appeal.

This pattern, this life, that you'd created for yourself was making you happier than you'd ever been in your entire life. You weren't one hundred percent content, not yet anyway, but the path to getting there was on a direct trajectory. You still wanted to finish your college degree, maybe switch it over to horticulture. Building a greenhouse and selling flowers was still a pipe dream but something your heart truly longed for, something that Frankie was constantly encouraging you to do.

"Look, hun," he had called out to you a few weeks ago while supposedly researching the new line of bottles. "There's an auction next county over and they have all this confiscated stuff from a grow op that got busted!"

"What?" You'd made a face and laughed at the absurdity of it all. "What on earth would you use from a pot farm?"

He just gave you a salacious wink as an answer.

Frankie had been open about his past drug abuse and while some recovering addicts may want all mention of it banned from a conversation, Frankie found levity in treating the topic like any other person would.

It had taken you a couple of hours to realize why he'd brought up the auction. It had hit you with a jolt, knowing that he’d remembered your rambling from on top of the Ferris wheel. You didn't realize he'd been listening when you'd told him about your idea of taking over the flower stand at the market once the current couple retired.

Your heart had swelled and there was a concerted effort to prevent the sudden onset of tears from running down your face. God, you loved this man, maybe one of these days you should tell him...

This particular routine was working well for the two of you. It gave each of you your own space to relax, destress, enjoy the shitty tv shows you were too embarrassed to watch in front of another living person. It also forced the two of you to take your relationship slowly, communication being a constant learning curve. You were both really good and telling each other when you needed time alone, when you were feeling stressed or sad. You each had learned the tells for when the other was angry or just hungry, if it was hormones or if there was something that was actually pissing you off.

The thing you each seemed to struggle with was expressing the softer side of the relationship. Neither of you appeared to have the Words of Affirmation love language skill, yet you both craved to hear it. You showed how much you cared for Frankie with your acts of service; helping him with the boring side of the business, baking, deep cleaning the loft, even scrubbing out the massive fermenter in the Catfish Cider warehouse.

Frankie, on the other hand, showed his love through physical touch. At first, you had assumed it was a staking-his-claim kind of thing but then you noticed how he'd do it all the time. A hand on your lower back while walking, caressing your hand with his thumb when driving in the truck, carding his fingers through your hair while you watched tv.

This week's date night found you at his place, relaxing in the loft after a busy workday. You were making dinner while he 'helped' by sneaking bites of the prepped ingredients, arm slung around you with a hand in your back pocket.

"What're you looking for?" He asked, taking advantage of your distracted searching through his cupboards to sneak a few more pinches of grated cheese.

"A can opener!" You replied, exasperation raising your voice an octave. "I could have sworn I saw a white one around here somewhere..."

“No, pretty sure that one's yours. I don't think I have one?"

"Frankie," you deadpanned "how did you survive as a bachelor without canned food?"

"I ate a lot of take-out?" He looked indignant at your laughter, "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Can you stop judging me long enough to eat some burritos?"

Smoothing his playful scowl with a kiss, you sat down at the counter and enjoyed your first meal together of the week.

An idea was formulating in the back of your mind, though, and you barely tasted anything. As the evening progressed, the idea grew and you were liking it more and more. The final straw was you not having a toothbrush in his bathroom anymore, having forgotten that it had fallen off the counter and into the trashcan the last time you'd spent the night.

Using his, with a strange mixture of distaste and nonchalance, before making your way over to the bed, you began to plan how the conversation could go:

Hey Frankie, so you know how I have a big house all to myself? Yeah... And it had everything we need in it? Yeah... And there's more than enough room for two adults to store all of their things? Yeah... And I wouldn't have to use your toothbrush ever again? Yea- wait what? I think you should move in with me.

It wasn't very romantic but it was the most likely, considering your dynamic. Just as you were crawling into bed and snuggling under the arm he'd raised to allow you to get closer, his cell phone rang.

"Hello? - This is he. - Yeah, biological. - Oh god, when?"

The immediate change in his tone from questioning to horrified caught your attention, sitting up to face him you grabbed his free hand, silently letting him know you were there for support.

His eyes were out of focus and a panicked expression was slowly morphing his face as the conversation went on, but he gave your hand a squeeze back in acknowledgement.

"Yes, in Vermont. Do you have my address? - Okay, good, good...okay - When? - I'll have something ready. Umm... does she... does she remember me? - Oh. Okay, thank you."

Slowly lowering the phone from his ear, Frankie sat staring into nothingness for what felt like hours. His side of the conversation and the way he was reacting had you rattled. You could guess as to what was happening but weren't sure if now was the right time to pry.

"Babe? Is, is everything okay?"

Silence.

Gripping his hand tighter and rubbing his back you sat with him for a few more minutes before trying again. You didn’t want to push him but your heart was constricting in your chest from nervousness and concern for him.

"Can I get you anything? What do you need?"

His hand was now completely dead in yours; eventually, he turned his head towards you, eyes never fully focusing, and shook his head.

"I- she- fuck... I think you should go.”

Part Thirteen

#Frankie Morales x F!Reader #Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x F!Reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x Fem!Reader #Francisco Morales x F!Reader #Francisco Catfish Morales x Fem!Reader #Frankie Morales x Reader #Frankie Morales x you

[tinyboxxtink]

“Doodling”

So @aprildecker-blog​ asked for this privately, a one shot where Nick and Fin are the only ones who know about the reader’s feelings for Barba and the jealousy of him and Olivia’s relationship. I did my best for it just being a one shot, no time for build up lol.

ALSO-- To the anon who asked for the smutty “reward” for the Defense Attorney S/O, I will write I promise. I just...have to be in the...”mood”, for writing smut, ya know what I mean?

+++++

You were unconsciously doodling on your legal pad as you sat there listening to your ADA drone on about your case. 

You had been over it a million times, trying to find a break in the attackers story; Something to discredit him, anything. 

You had checked out almost immediately after sitting down, you were exhausted from working this case and for some reason the color of Barba's eyes were unusually green today. Or maybe you were just noticing them for the first time.

"Y/L/N," A voice knocked you back to reality. You looked around to see your squad staring at you, Barba had his arms crossed in annoyance. 

"What? Uh, yeah sure whatever you said Barba," You muttered as you looked down at your legal pad; all of a sudden your eyes went wide. 

You had unintentionally been scribbling "RAFAEL BARBA" all over the paper in different signature writing. What was worse, your partner Fin promptly noticed and snickered to himself. 

"Well since you're taking such diligent notes maybe you have something useful to add?" Barba asked in a snarky tone as he gestured to your notepad. 

"Actually Barba can we finish this later I've got a Vic I need to check on" Fin piped up, coming to your rescue. 

"Seriously Fin?" Barba scoffed.

"Yeah Barba you know what we've been at this for two hours, let's pick it up tomorrow with fresh eyes, yeah?" Oliva added as they all gathered up their stuff.

"Whatever," Barba grumbled. "She's your victim," he grabbed his briefcase and walked out of the squad room. 

"Nice taste of men, Y/N," Fin whispered to you. 

"What?!" You acted oblivious. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh don't even" Fin teased. "You're scribbling his name all over your pad like a high schooler,"

"I swear to you Fin, that was completely unconsciously," You put your hand over your heart.

"Maybe subconsciously?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Wha--? No, no of course not--" You were dismissing his accusations when Nick rolled up on your conversation.

"What are we talking about?" He asked.

"Y/N's in love with Barba," Fin smirked.

"FIN," Your eyes widened.

"Oh, that? No shit Fin, where have you been?" Nick laughed.

"NICK," You hissed. "Oh my god…."

"Oh I'm sorry was it supposed to be a secret?" Nick looked around the squad room.

"It's not true!" You denied it, even though your face was turning a deeper shade of red every second.

"Oh please, the way you look at him?" Nick shook his head with another laugh.

"How do I look at him?" You raised your eyebrows.

"Like I look at my abuela's Christmas tamales," Nick wiggled his own eyebrows suggestively, causing you to hit him across the shoulder. 

“Oh my god I do NOT,” You wanted to crawl under your desk and die right there.

“Oh ok, yeah you DON’T,” Nick said sarcastically.

“Yeah well…” You sighed, looking over at Barba and Olivia talking. “It really doesn’t matter,”

“What, him and Olivia?” Fin asked, noticing where your gaze had wandered. 

“Mmm,” You pushed down the jealous feeling bubbling in your gut.

“Aww, YN,” Fin put a hand on your shoulder. “I wouldn’t worry about them,” 

“Yeah they’re more like brother and sister,” Nick agreed. “Who occasionally fuck,” He added under his breath.

“WHAT?!” You practically screamed, causing the entire squad room including Barba and Olivia turned to stare at you.

“I was just kidding Y/N, chill,” Nick muttered, trying not to bust out laughing. 

“I’m going to KILL you, Amaro,” You growled, making him laugh harder.

“Why don’t you just go ask him out, just put a wedge in there if you’re so worried about it,” Fin gestured towards them.

“No!” You hit him this time.  

“Hey, Barba!” Nick called across the squad room.

“Yeah, Amaro?” Barba asked as he walked over to your group.

“Don’t you dare, Nick,” You hissed quietly.

“Are you and Olivia dating?” Nick asked with a straight face.

“Excuse me?” Barba asked with a stunned face.

“Y/N wanted to know,” Nick smirked, nodding at you.

“Oh my god…” You muttered under your breath.

“Did you now, detective?” A smile spread across Barba’s face.

“What? No! Maybe…” Your mind was racing at the sight of him smiling at the thought of you being jealous of him and Liv.

“Well, you’re in luck,” Olivia smirked as she came up behind Barba. “The only man in my life is Noah,” 

“Oh,” You smiled meekly. “Well um, good to know,” 

“Indeed,” Barba was now grinning from ear to ear. “Detective, walk me out?” He offered his arm to you. You looked at Fin and Nick who were smiling triumphantly.

“Yeah, sure,” You pushed your hair behind your hair nervously with a smile as you latched arms with him.

“You’re welcome!!!” You could hear Nick yelling from the squad room as you walked out into the New York Streets with Barba.

“Dinner? On me?” He asked you casually.

“I um, y-yeah!” You blinked in disbelief. “Absolutely,” 

“Good, I’ll see you after work,” He smiled at you with a quick wink as he walked away.

Now you really would have to thank Nick.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #anon ask #drabble request #rafael barba drabble

[spooderboyandtincan]

The 12(ish) Days of December

A/N: I intended to write a Hanukkah themed chapter, but unfortunately I suffered some burnout and I couldn’t really start it :(((((( I plan and hope to add on to this in the future, I just wanted to get it out here on time! Happy Holidays everyone!!

Read on Ao3

/ST*RKERS DNI/

I

“Che palle!” May cried as she and Peter stepped out of the elevator. “Tony, what the hell is that?!”

“It’s a giant teddy bear,” Tony called back from the kitchen. “It’s for you, Pete!”

“Me?” Peter gasped, his face lighting up. He charged toward the ten-foot teddy bear and tackled it. The giant brown bear teetered slightly with his weight but didn’t tip over. “He’s so soft!”

Tony came out of the kitchen with a wide grin on his face. He wiped his flour-coated hands on his pants and tried to give Peter a hug without pushing him off the bear,

“He’s so beautiful!” Peter giggled, wrapping his arms around the bear’s neck. “And huge!” 

Tony nodded in a proud, self-satisfied sort of way. Besides being delighted that the boy clearly adored his gift, he now had proof that this was obviously how one should react when presented with a ten-foot-tall stuffed animal. He'd have to take a picture and send it to Pepper.

May tossed her purse on the floor and shook her head at Tony. “As long as you can find a place for it, I’m not complaining,” she chuckled.

“I’ll rent a storage unit somewhere,” Tony supplied, taking a sip of coffee from his Iron Man shaped mug. Tony treasured that mug, which had been gifted to him by Peter several months ago. He never brought it in the lab for fear that Dum-E or U would break it, and he kept it in the cabinet next to his “1# IronDad” mug (also a precious gift from his kid).

He looked back to Peter, who had wrapped his arms around the bear, which was tilting dangerously. “Be careful, kiddo,” he said, biting his lip. But the moment the words got out of his mouth, Peter and the gigantic teddy bear started to topple to the ground.

“Shit-!” he began, darting forward, only to be met by Peter’s giggles.

“Nooo. Leave me. ‘M comfy.” He rolled onto the bear’s big belly and sprawled across it. “This’s perfect,” he hummed, closing his eyes. 

Tony and May shared a slightly exasperated yet fond glance. Tony flopped down next to Peter, tucking a curl behind his ear. “Now that I think about it, spider-baby,” he mused, “I’ve got something else for ya.”

Peter perked up and opened his eyes. “What?” 

Tony gave him a large grin and ran a hand through his curls. ��C’mere.” He wrapped an arm around his shoulders and led Peter to his room.

May sighed. “I swear to god, Tony, if you’re giving him an Audi….” she muttered. 

“I’m not!” the man insisted. Peter rolled his eyes and sat down on his bead. 

Tony put a warm palm over his eyes. “Close your eyes, bud.” 

Peter tried to keep his eyes closed as Tony ran to his own room, tearing through what sounded like wrapping paper and knocking boxes over with no absence of cursing. 

Moments later, a small, leather 4x4 inch box was placed on his open palm. He opened his eyes and looked first at the box, then at up Tony, who smiled. May shrugged and gestured to open it. 

Inside the box rested a thin, slender watch with a smooth black strap. The face of the watch was rectangular, and when Peter pushed the button on the side it lit up, displaying the time above what looked like a mini arc reactor. It resembled the StarkWatch he was wearing that very moment, except it looked more high-tech.

“A new StarkWatch, specially customized for you, by yours truly,” Tony said. “Your old one looked pretty busted, even though they’re supposed to be indestructible.” Peter snickered at Tony’s gentle jab. “And it’s got a few minor upgrades. You can set the lock screen, for one. And it should be trackable from anywhere in the universe, and I mean everywhere. And you can call me, or May, or Ned or Rhodey or whoever from the top of Mount Everest or the bottom of the Mariana Trench.”

“Wow,” Peter whispered, tracing the sides of the watch before strapping it onto his wrist. “Thank you, Mister Stark! I love it! It’s so cool!” 

“What happened to ‘Tony?’” he grumbled playfully, giving his spider-baby a kiss on his head. “I’m glad you like it, buddy. It’s basically the same stuff as your old one, just better.” 

Then, to both Peter and May’s surprise, Tony bent down and grabbed a colorful red bag covered in golden glitter. Peter laughed.

“Tony, it’s only the ninth!” May snorted, her eyebrows raised past her hairline.

“That’s because we’ll need these before Christmas,” Tony said wisely. He handed Peter a soft package wrapped in green tissue paper and watched him tear the packaging in half.

“It’s so ugly!” he cried, holding up a garish green sweater. There was a plastic red ball attached to the big reindeer's nose and tiny bells were tied onto the reindeer’s harness. Little snowflakes were patterned all over, and Peter couldn’t help but laugh. “I love it, Tony!” Peter pulled the sweater on and was delighted to find that the fabric was incredibly soft, instead of the unbearably itchy sweaters he had owned in the past. “It’s perfect!”

Tony laughed fondly at his already thrilled kid. “If you think it’s good now, wait till you see this. FRI, lights off,” he ordered.  

Peter felt Tony fumble with something on his shoulder, and suddenly the sweater lit up. The reindeer’s nose lit up bright red, the snowflakes began to glow, and, as cliché as it might have sounded, the bells gave a merry jingle as Peter laughed.

“I love it!” He tackled Tony with a hug, relaxing slightly in the man’s arms. 

“Good,” Tony chuckled, “‘Cause I’ve got about three more for you and your aunt each.”

II

“Tony, where’re we going?” Peter whined, his breath fogging the window. “Tell meeee!”

“My lips are sealed,” Tony said, pretending to zip his lips shut and throw away the key. “We’re almost there, Rudolph, don’t worry.”

“Rudolph?!” Peter snorted.

Tony reached over the console to ruffle his hair. “I thought you might want a Christmas nickname,” he explained. “Plus, y’know, you already had a nickname available that only required a bit of simple reconstruction, Roo.”

Peter shook his head. “Just tell meeee!”

“No. Never.”

“Pleeease?”

“I physically can’t, buddy.”

“Tell me! Tellmetellmetellme pleeeeeeeeease?”

“Will… to keep secrets… decreasing,” Tony said robotically. “Fine. We’re going ice-skating, Petey-Pie.”

Peter gasped, his big chocolate eyes going wide. “Really?!” 

Tony grinned and glanced over to his kid. “Really.” He wished he could stop the car and give his sweet boy a hug. 

“But…” Peter bit his lip. “I don’t really know how. I mean, I went ice skating with Ned a few years ago but we mostly fell over and bruised our butts.”

Tony chuckled fondly. “That’s okay kiddie, I’ll show you the arts. Rhodey and I went when we were in college, and man, we had a blast laughing at each other. Oh- we’re here!”

“Tony, I don’t have any skates!” Peter realized as they hopped out of the car. 

“I already got you some, Pete, don’t worry,” Tony assured him. He opened the trunk of the car. “And I brought you an extra hat, a coat, a scarf, some better gloves, extra socks and a pair of snow pants.” 

“Tony,” Peter began, leaning into the hug the man offered him all the same. He grumbled and rolled his eyes but let Tony wrap a scarf around his neck and trade his thin woolen gloves out for much warmer, thicker ones. Peter had to admit he felt a lot warmer. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Thanks, Pete. M’kay, I’ve got these fancy red and blue skates for you and red and gold for me.” 

“And I’m sure the color choices were random?” Peter asked sarcastically. “Wait- these have the Spider-Man logo on them! Mr. Stark, are there Spider-Man ice-skates?!”

Tony bent to kiss his forehead. “There are, Pete. Pretty cool, huh?”

“So cool! I love ‘em, thank you, Tony!” He held up the skates to admire them. “They’re great!”

“No problem, buddy. It was my pleasure.”

Peter flopped down in the snow and pulled on his skates. He looked up to admire the tall oak and pine trees swaying gently with the wind, the last leaves of fall scattering along the icy roads. A pair of snowflakes drifted down to his coat, and Peter felt a sort of peace flow through him.

“Petey? Are you comin’?” Tony called, skating back and forth along the edge of the pond. Peter knotted the laces of his skates tightly and struggled to his feet.

“I’m trying!” he yelled, staggering forward. He leaned over the ice and felt a bit dizzy. It was about a foot down to the actual ice, and Peter knew without a doubt that he would slip if he tried to get down. “I dunno, um….”

“I gotcha, Petey, don’t worry.” Tony held out his arms and gave him a reassuring smile. Hesitantly, Peter lowered stepped onto the frozen pond, grabbing Tony’s arm and clinging to him as he got both feet on the ice. 

“Good job, Roo!” the man praised, lifting him up by the armpits so he was standing up a bit straighter. He couldn’t help but compare Peter to a fawn who just stood up for the very first time, and the boy’s big bambi eyes weren’t helping his case. “Getting on the ice is the hardest part. I’ve landed on my ass more times than I can count.” Tony frowned at himself. “Sorry I said ‘ass,’ don’t repeat that.”

Peter snorted. His skates slipped and he felt Tony’s arms tighten around him. “Whoa there, buddy. I gotcha.” He tucked a loose curl behind the teen’s ear and kissed his cheek, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

“‘M’kay, you ready, Pete?” 

“Heck yeah!” 

Tony grinned. “Okay, first, you said ‘heck yeah’ instead of ‘hell yeah’ and that’s adorable,” he teased, chuckling at Peter’s eye roll. “Second: let’s wreck this rink!”

Though of course, they ended up making more of a wreck of themselves rather than the rink.

The very second Peter slid his foot forward, he found himself spontaneously falling backwards. Luckily, Tony caught him easily and gently pulled him back up. 

“I meant to do that,” he huffed, his small hands scrabbling at Tony’s coat. “It was- completely- intentional.” 

“Of course it was, Roo, I know that,” he said with a raise of his eyebrows. “No one has the grace and agility you do.”

“I am graceful, Tony! How dare you?!” Peter grumbled. 

Tony might have made a quip about the arms wrapped tightly around his waist for support, but he decided his poor kid had suffered enough. Despite bumping into every table or chair in his path, Peter was surprisingly graceful, especially when he swung with ease through the air on a thin stand of webbing. “You are graceful, buddy, I promise,” he admitted. “You wanna give it another try?”

Peter stuck his tongue out at him, adjusted his hat, and gingerly took a step forward. Tony tensed, ready to lunge forward and catch him if the boy slipped, but found himself letting a quiet cheer. “Nice job, Pete!”

Peter beamed at him, his legs spread far apart and his arms extended for balance. He tipped backwards and Tony started to jump forward, but Peter flailed his arms around and regained his balance.

“I think you’re getting the hang of it, kiddo!” Tony called as Peter made his way to the opposite side of the pond. He winced suddenly, protectiveness flooding through him at his retreating figure. “Be careful! Wait for me!”

He caught up to Peter easily and zipped in front of him, catching him by the shoulders. “You’re doing great, baby!” 

“Thanks,” he giggled, looking down at his shoes. He wiped his red nose with the back of his hand and sniffled. “‘S fun!”

Tony smiled and adjusted Peter’s scarf. “Glad to hear it.”

“Tony?” he asked. “Can you do a figure eight?”

The man paused to consider this, clicking his tongue. “Only one way to find out!” he decided. 

Peter watched excitedly as he skated out to the middle of the pond, looking practically weightless. Tony took a deep breath, prayed he didn’t break any bones, then pushed off. He zoomed around the pond in a perfect figure eight, only faltering for a brief moment, and traced over it twice before he skidded back to Peter. “Ta-da!”

Peter applauded, clearly very impressed. Tony bowed exaggeratedly and pretended to be embarrassed. 

“D’you think I should try?” Peter asked. 

Tony smiled fondly. “Only if you want to. I know you’d nail it though.”

And he did. Peter skated carefully to the edge of the pond and performed the figure eight beautifully, spinning in circles and laughing when he got a bit too dizzy.

Tony skated up to him, his eyes huge. “Jesus, Petey, that was fantastic!” He pulled the embarrassed teen to his chest and wished, not for the first time, that Peter wasn’t wearing a hat so he could kiss the top of his head. He settled for Peter’s cheek instead. “Wow, baby, that was amazing! Wait- I gotta sign you up for the Olympics. Where’s my phone- oh, I got it.” He pulled his phone from his coat.

“Tony, nooooo!” Peter protested.

“Tony yes. You’re too talented.”

“It was just a figure eight!” he giggled. “And you did one too so you hafta sign yourself up.” Peter looked up to the gray sky and shivered as the brisk winds tore at his heavy coat and scarf. He leaned even closer to Tony.

“You cold, baby?” Tony rubbed his back gently, hoping to generate some warmth. “Wanna go back home? We can come back here anytime you want.”

Peter sighed a bit sadly, but he had to admit he was freezing. He and Tony skated back to the car quickly. Snowflakes began to fall rapidly down as gusts of wind tried to upset their balance. Tony helped Peter onto the bank and they hurriedly yanked off their ice skates.

They found refuge in the car only when Tony turned the heater up full blast and  leaned over the console to pull Peter into his arms. Peter’s shivers that had been worrying him far more than Tony had been willing to say eventually died off and together they watched what was now practically a blizzard raging outside.

“Just in time,” Tony mumbled into Peter’s curls. “Feel any better, baby?”

He grew worried when he received no response and pulled back. Peter’s eyes were shut and his breathing slow, though he made a small whimpering noise in the back of his throat when Tony pulled away. Tony smiled, a tender, loving light in his eyes and pulled Peter back into his arms, cradling his kid against his chest and rubbing his back soothingly. “‘M here. ‘M here, baby, don’t worry,” he cooed, planting a kiss on his forehead. 

Peter curls tickled his cheek, his warm breath heating the skin of Tony’s neck. The console between him and his kid was uncomfortable and hard against his side, but he wouldn’t have moved for the world. Tony held Peter tightly and closed his eyes.

Maybe they could stay there a little while as they waited for the blizzard to pass.

III

Tony had been brewing a hot cup of coffee in the kitchen when a disheveled, sniffling, sleepy Peter face-planted into his back.

“Whoa, bud!” Tony spun around and caught the boy under the armpits. “Hey, hey. Are you okay?” He tilted Peter’s chin back and found that his nose was bright red, his eyes were half-lidded, and his bedhead was a lot worse (though still absolutely adorable) than it usually was.

“‘M fine,” Peter sniffled, leaning heavily against his chest. “Missed you.”

“Oh, baby,” Tony murmured, wrapping his arms around the small teen, “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He gave his definitely-not-sick spider-baby a smooch on his temple. “You’re pretty warm,” he noted with a hint of worry in his voice. He pressed the back of his hand to the teen’s forehead. “Do you wanna lie down, kiddo?”

Peter shook his head weakly. “Wan’ you.”

Tony’s heart melted and he turned into a pile of mush. In this tired, sick, achy state Peter was clingier than ever, and all he wanted was him. He wanted Tony. He kissed Peter’s temple. “I’m gonna stay right here, Petey, don’t worry,” he assured his kid. “I promise.” 

Tony held Peter with one arm while he rummaged through the kitchen cabinets with the other. “FRI? What’s up with the spider-baby?”

“Peter is exhibiting symptoms of a common cold, such as coughing, sneezing, a runny nose, and a fever,” the AI replied. Tony felt a pang of worry and empathy in his heart. 

“Okay. I’ve got your pain meds,” he announced in a whisper. “Do you want water or OJ?”

Peter decided on the latter, not bothering to raise his head but simply mumbling “juice” into the man’s chest. Tony hummed in agreement and attempted to pour a glass for himself one-handedly (most of the juice ended up on the counter, but holding his sick kid was far more important than pouring orange juice).

He led the boy to the couch, a steadying hand around his shoulders. Peter snuggled against him, coughing and sniffling. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and shivered.

Tony placed two white pills into palm. Peter took a hesitant sip of his drink and gulped down the pills. Tony tucked an errant curl behind his ear and placed a kiss one his temple. 

With Peter still in his hold, he strained to reach the weighted electric blanket that had fallen behind the couch. With a painful crack from his twisted back, he finally managed to get his fingers around the feather-soft blanket and settled back on the couch with a triumphant grunt.

He wrapped the electric blanket tightly around them both. Peter’s shivering caused a surge of fierce protection to run through his veins, and Tony hugged him to his chest, pressing a kiss to his soft, though slightly sweaty curls. He glared at the dark corners of the room, as if somehow the very cold that was making his child suffer so much would leap from the shadows.  

Peter found comfort in the vibrations of Tony’s chest and the beat of his heart. The calloused fingers running through his hair and the occasional kiss against his temple soothed him beyond measure, and without ever realizing it, Peter started to drift off. Compared to when he had woken up, soaked with sweat, wheezing and sniffling and rather nauseous, he felt so much better in his father-figure’s embrace.

Dimly, he noticed that Tony was talking to him. He thought he recognized the words coming out of his mouth, and he realized suddenly that Tony was reading Mr. Willowby’s Christmas Tree to him. That book had been Peter’s favorite when he was a small toddler, and hearing the familiar words aloud brought a big burst of happiness to his chest. 

Peter let his eyes slip shut for a second. The headache that had been pounding in his head was completely gone and in Tony’s arms, he felt incredibly warm and cozy and happy. 

When his eyes opened again, he determined that Tony had finished reading the book. If he had had enough energy, he would have asked him to read another. But much to his delight, he realized Tony had already picked up another book.

And just before his eyes fluttered shut, he heard Tony’s gentle voice speaking, full of love. “I love you, Petey.”

I love you too.

IV

“Mmm, Tony, the spaghetti was fantastic!” May exclaimed as she loaded her plate into the dishwasher. “I need that recipe, it’s just too good!” 

Tony looked at Peter out of the corner of his eyes. The boy shook his head frantically and drew a finger across his throat. Tony snickered. “Thank you, May, I’m glad to hear that,” he said.

To be completely truthful, he felt like throwing up. During the dinner, Peter had chatted enough to distract him, but now his emotions were left to himself, and Tony had barely been swallowed by them. He stuffed the last plate in the dishwasher and took a few long, deep breaths. He massaged his forehead and blinked, sitting down heavily on the couch.

Tony’s heart was beating out of his chest. He looked up to the boy, who was texting someone- probably Ned, completely oblivious. “Pete?” he began shakily. “Do you think we could talk for a second?” He and May shared a glance. She realized immediately what he was about to do and gave him an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. 

“Yeah!” Peter vaulted onto the couch with a laugh. His grin faded when he saw how worried, how scared the man looked. Alarm kindled in his chest. “What’s wrong, Mr. Stark?”

Tony couldn’t bring himself to laugh at the cookie crumbs in the corners of his mouth or the way his hair frizzed everywhere as he pulled his Santa hat off. He swallowed and took a deep breath.

“Um-” Tony had to clear his throat. He reached down and grabbed a briefcase leaning against the couch that Peter hadn’t noticed before. “Uh,” he tried. He pulled two papers out of the briefcase and stared at them for a long while. “Do you think that you could give these a read, kiddo?”

Peter nodded silently and took them. He looked up at Tony, his head tilted in confusion.

He looked to the papers. His eyes widened in disbelief. “W-what? I-” He turned the papers over as if there would be a sticky note saying “IT'S A PRANK!” on the back. “What? W-what? I-I don’t-” Peter shook his head. 

He couldn’t stop looking at those cream-colored papers. 

Child: Peter Benjamin Parker

Adopting Parent(s): Anthony Edward Stark 

The rest of the paper was blank, except for Tony’s signature at the bottom. 

“Am I asleep? This-this is a dream, right?” Peter's eyes were filling with tears but he didn’t bother to wipe them away.

“It’s not a dream, sweetheart,” May said gently. “It’s real.” She squeezed his knee, hoping to ground him.

“Really?” He opened his mouth but couldn’t seem to form words. He gaped like a fish, reading the adoption papers over and over again. “You-you wanna adopt me?” he finally managed to squeak out.

Tony finally gathered the courage to look at his kid. “Yeah, baby. But only if you want to, okay? Nothing would change, though. We’d- just be making it official. Everything would be the same except-” He throat closed, and suddenly he couldn’t speak. 

Except Peter would be his official son- legally, on paper. And Tony would be his official dad. (There was no way Tony wasn’t already his dad.)

“What are you thinking, baby?” he murmured, instinctively tucking a curl behind Peter’s ear with shaky hands. 

Tony’s gentle touch was enough to break the dam of emotions that had been holding back. Peter sniffled, then burst into tears and practically jumped into his dad’s arms. 

Tony hugged him tightly, rubbing a hand up and down his back and pressing long kisses to his temple. Peter blubbered into his chest, happy tears soaking Tony’s sweater. May wrapped her arms around the two and squeezed them both tightly.

Tony felt tears prickle in his own eyes and he dropped his forehead to Peter’s curls. “Is that a yes?” he finally managed to say.

Peter giggled wetly and nodded frantically against his chest. 

A grin as wide as a dinner plate crossed Tony’s face. He realized suddenly that tears were streaming down his cheeks, but he didn’t wipe them away. He kissed the top of Peter's head and squeezed him tighter. 

May pressed a quick kiss on Peter’s cheek and stood up. “I’ll be back in a bit,” she said, sensing that the father and son might want a moment alone. 

Tony rocked his kid back and forth, rubbing his back and pressing kiss after kiss to his cheek. “I love you,” he murmured into his chestnut curls. “I love you.” IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.

“Love you,” Peter babbled. “I love you too. I love you.”

He held Peter at an arm’s length, still grinning. Then he pulled his kid back to him again and kissed his cheek, wiping away his tears with the pad of his thumb. “I love you.”

Peter sniffled, wiping his nose with his sweater. He wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck and curled around him like a koala. He leaned heavily against his dad’s chest, his breathing beginning to even out. Tony’s chest vibrated with every “I love you so much, Petey” and his ceaseless murmurs of love and comfort.    

“Love you, Dad,” he said sleepily, his eyelids drooping. 

A lump formed in Tony’s throat that he couldn’t seem to swallow past. Tears started to trickle down his cheeks. “Petey-” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “I love you so much. So damn much, okay?” He ran his hand up and down the boy’s back, kissing his temple and trying to blink his happy tears away. 

Tony felt himself slowly drifting asleep. He blinked, and then his cheek was resting on his kid’s curls. His eyes closed again, and suddenly May was there, draping a blanket over them. He tried to tell her to get Peter’s special heated blanket, because his poor kid couldn’t thermoregulate and absolutely hated the cold. Then he realized that she had already tucked it around the boy and sighed in relief, finally letting himself relax.

May settled on the opposite side of Peter and wrapped an arm around him. Within minutes she was snoring quietly, but Tony was too tired to notice. A wave of joy and peace and love washed over him, and his eyes slipped shut.

~~~~~

/ST*RKERS DNI/

~~~~~

Taglist:  @imissyoutoo @aj-that-person @tonystark-deserves-better @nathaly-ab @skeeter-110 @peter-and-tony-vlogs @teammightypen @joyful-soul-collector @loveliestdisappointment @depuella @scwene-qween @honeythepooh @pixiethefirecat7 @spider-man-lover @jami161 @bringitonvoldie @queen-of-sarcasm-25 @roxy3457 @memilon @iron-loyalty @gralaca @bitchingpretty @pillowspace @thatminecraftgal @clockworkteacup @hatakehikari @wtfischeese @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @skydiving-without-a-parachute @yansi1923 @slytherin-hamilton-life-12  @dead-inside-pt2 @name-me-regret​ @zanderljones @spidy8664 @hold-our-destiny

If anyone wants to be added/ removed please let me know!

#peter parker #tony stark #may parker #adoption #ice skating #ugly christmas sweater #giant stuffed animals #tony stark adopts peter parker #tony stark and may parker co-parenting #dad tony stark #tony stark is a dad #tony stark acting as peter parkers parental figure #blizzards #peter parker calls tony stark dad #irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #precious peter parker #sick peter parker #peter has a cold #platonic cuddling #platonic kisses #fluff #no st*rker #st*rkers dni #what tags did i forget today

[miracleonice87]

’tis the damn season

an Auston Matthews song fic

a/n: based on the absolute masterpiece that is ’tis the damn season by Taylor Swift from evermore. This one was not on my WIP list but came over me as soon as I heard the song when the album dropped. also have no idea how it became my longest piece yet, by far (as in 12k+ whoops). obviously, I do not own any of the music/lyrics to this song nor any other I write about.

summary: Auston Matthews and his ex-girlfriend are reunited in their hometown years after their difficult breakup.

warnings: swearing, alcohol, allusions to sex, a delicate balance of angst and fluff. a bit of a slow burn, if you want to call it that.

_____

You might have been one of the few people on the planet who disagreed with the phrase, “There’s no place like home for the holidays.” At least, for the last few years, that hadn’t exactly been your sentiment.

But, you were home anyway, after a few weeks of your mother’s guilt tripping and your father’s repeated phone calls. And, admittedly, you were enjoying your quiet time at home with your parents.

After helping your mom bake a few dozen cookies for the Christmas Eve party they were throwing tomorrow night, you wandered upstairs to your childhood bedroom to change out of your flour-covered attire and maybe squeeze in a nap. An undeniable perk of staying with your parents during the holidays — so many opportunities to sleep. As you pulled on a well-worn, long-sleeved ASU t-shirt you found hanging in your closet, your phone rang.

You groaned and swore to yourself that if it was your editor again, you were quitting. She’d already interrupted your time off at least once throughout each of your three days at home thus far — your first week of vacation in the two and a half years you’d been with the fashion magazine. You rolled your eyes and reached for the sounding device on your bed, then recoiled when you saw the contact name — or rather, initials — on the screen.

AM

Oh, god.

Even worse, the years-old contact photo popped up behind the name — a picture of the two of you lying together on the shore on your vacation four years ago, right after the draft, when you both still held onto the naive belief that nothing that had just happened in his world would change things between the two of you.

“Shit,” you whispered, covering your mouth while anxiety coursed through your veins.

You couldn’t just not answer. Right? The two of you were on decent terms, though you couldn’t quite remember the last time you’d spoken — probably seven, eight months ago. You had no good reason to ignore his call.

And after all... you were the one who had ended things.

You cleared your throat and, trying to coach yourself into mustering up some semblance of courage, quickly repeated, “Okay, okay, okay, okay.” Then, like ripping off a bandaid, you hurriedly tapped the green button and pressed the phone to your ear.

“Matthews,” you greeted curtly — tentatively.

“Kels. Come over,” Auston said abruptly, though you could hear the smile in his voice. “I know you’re home.”

You squinted and glanced around your room, racking your brain as you tried to figure out how exactly your ex-boyfriend knew your current whereabouts.

“What?” you asked, puzzled, not to mention slightly shocked that he was even interested in seeing you in person — though some part of you was, indeed, grateful for that. “How did you even know I was in Scottsdale?”

“Uh, your Instagram story, my dear,” he said, obviously amused. “You posted this morning from that new coffee shop between the Methodist church and our old school building. Remember?”

You rubbed a hand over your face, suddenly regretting adding him to your close friends list on Instagram six weeks ago after a few glasses of wine with your girlfriends.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, eliciting a chuckle from Auston.

“Yeah, don’t flatter yourself thinking I sit around and stalk you, sweetheart,” he teased. “I thought about replying but I didn’t wanna slide into your DMs and look like a fuckboy.” He paused, and you opened your mouth to make a halfhearted wisecrack that you didn’t truly mean, but before you could speak, he added, “Plus you probably get so many DMs, I’m sure mine would just get lost in the shuffle.”

Again, you rolled your eyes. “Matthews,” you repeated, whinier now.

“C’mon, Kels. Just come over,” he whined back. “I just got in last night. I’m staying at my parents’ house. My sisters nearly busted down my door when they saw you were back in town, plus I know my mom and dad would love to see you.”

Suddenly, two decades’ worth of memories that you had long ago pushed to the back of your mind flooded all at once to the forefront of your consciousness. Sleepovers watching Disney Channel movies and eating peach rings with Alex and Brey. Brian scooping you up in his arms after a nasty tumble off your bike on their street, propping you on the kitchen counter as he bandaged the scrapes on your knees, Auston never leaving your side nor letting go of your hand. Road trips with Ema to watch Auston play in countless tournaments, with you doing homework in the front seat while Ema sang along to the radio. Matthews family dinners eating Ema’s famous chicken tortilla soup. Vacations and carpool and pickup basketball games and shopping for prom dresses and just the mundane, everyday routine you had been part of for so many years.

And those were just the memories that involved his sisters, his parents. You didn’t dare let your mind uncover the buried memories of him, and him alone.

You missed them. Sometimes you missed them all so much that it made your heart physically ache and your stomach drop and your mouth go dry.

So, you drew a long, deep breath, and against your better judgment, eventually said, “Okay. Fine. But you have to send me your parents’ address. I haven’t been to the new Matthews McMansion.”

Auston huffed on the other end. “So mean to me.”

_____

It was certainly a far cry from the modest old ranch-style house where Auston had spent his childhood.

As you pulled up to the sprawling estate in the bougie part of town and cut your engine, you whispered, “What the fuck am I doing here...”

And still, after a quick check of your makeup in your rearview mirror, you got out of the car, closed your door and pushed your sunglasses to the top of your head, sighing as you took in the four vehicles parked in front of yours in the roundabout driveway, none of which you had ever seen before. Audi, Mercedes, BMW, Porsche. Well, you could guess which one was Auston’s.

You walked up the stone sidewalk and slipped your aviators into your purse — it was only then that you noticed that your hands were trembling.

You cleared your throat and exhaled sharply, willing your nerves to subside, as you arrived at the door and pressed the button on its frame, sounding an elaborate chime inside.

“I got it,” you immediately heard a familiar voice call, and you took a startled step backward as you saw his figure approaching through the decorative glass panes outlining the doorway. As he pulled open the door, the flutter you’d tried your hardest to avoid feeling for three years took flight once more in your belly.

“Matthews,” you greeted again, arms crossed in front of you in hopes of hiding your shaking hands.

“Why’d ya bother to ring the doorbell, you nutjob?” Auston asked with a broad smile.

Before you could throw a snide remark back at him, he pulled you into himself, one arm snaking around your mid-back and the other hand cradling your head to his chest. Inadvertently, you exhaled contentedly, and you swore you felt Auston tighten his grip on you then. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you let yourself relax into him for longer than you had intended. He just felt so… familiar. Broad. Strong. Comforting.

He was just… Auston. A thousand things had changed for the two of you, but the way you felt in his presence hadn’t changed since you were a little girl.

You inhaled his cologne, and you noticed that he was doing just the same — breathing in your long-worn Chanel No. 5 perfume, the same kind he used to save up all year to buy you each Christmas.

At that memory, you snapped back to reality and extricated yourself from his embrace, leaving him looking slightly disappointed, though still pleased with your greeting.

“Hi,” you spoke simply as you stared up at him, then chuckled at how stupid that sounded.

“Hi,” he mimicked, head bobbling and eyes widening, causing you both to fall into a giddy fit of nervous laughter over nothing at all.

Just then, you saw Ema’s head pop out from beneath an arched opening toward the back of the house — probably leading to the kitchen, you assumed. Ema was always in the kitchen.

“I thought I heard your laugh,” she sang. You couldn’t help but beam, and Auston smiled and moved out of your way so that you had a direct pathway to his mother. Taking advantage of that, you made a beeline for the petite woman you considered your second mom, already feeling emotion bubbling up in your throat as tears blurred your vision.

“Oh, mija,” Ema said, her voice tight as she met you in the middle of the grand entryway and gathered you into her arms. “Te extrañamos,” (we miss you) she said sincerely.

Auston cupped the back of his neck and quickly looked away then, fearful that he may just shed tears of his own.

You sniffled and murmured, “Los extrañé a todos mucho,” (I missed you all so much) into Ema’s shoulder as she smoothed her hand lovingly over the back of your head.

When you finally parted, moving past the brief sadness of the reunion, Ema still held tightly to your hands, extending her arms so that she could see you better.

“You look more beautiful than ever!” she exclaimed, and you dropped your head bashfully at her compliment. “California is treating you well.”

You nodded. “For the most part,” you remarked with a sigh. Ema glanced quickly from your face to her son’s and back again, deciding not to dwell for too long on that loaded response.

“Well,” she pivoted with a click of her tongue. “You look great. Now come, come! I know Auston’s going to want to steal you away from me, not that I blame him, but I just put on some tea, so let’s sit and have some first.”

“Ma…” Auston protested lightheartedly. Ema wagged her finger at him. “Shh! Mijo! My long lost daughter has returned. Give me ten minutes for a cup of tea with her.”

Auston’s lips parted at her use of the word “daughter,” not that he should have been surprised by it, and you tossed him an animated shrug as Ema pulled you down the hallway back from whence she came. You were right — it was the kitchen, and it was a spectacular one at that.

“Holy…” you trailed off as Ema patted one of the leather barstools at the enormous island in the center of the room. You took a seat, pulling your cross body bag from your shoulder and placing it on the island, and commented, “This kitchen is incredible, Ema. I’m sure you love spending time here.”

Ema nodded and excitedly launched into stories of using all the appliances and gadgets she had never owned before, walking back to the teakettle on the stove as Auston sat down on the nearest barstool, feeling as though he could simply be dreaming, hallucinating, that you were here, sitting with him in his parents’ kitchen. But when you noticed him taking the seat next to yours, you tossed him a classic Kelsey smile and nudged his shoulder with your own, and he felt just slightly more confident that this was reality. Unable to resist your magnetism, which hadn’t faded with time but seemed instead to have only grown stronger, he squeezed your knee beneath the countertop, just as Ema approached with a cup of tea in hand for you.

Choosing to react instead to Ema rather than her son, you grinned and thanked her, feeling Auston’s eyes on you as you lifted the mug to your lips and took small sips, Ema still prattling on happily from the other side of the kitchen. You eventually cast a sidelong glance Auston’s way, accompanied by an amused smirk, the combination of which left him beaming as he looked away from you and back toward his mother, who now approached with two more cups of tea.

“Thanks, Ma,” he said as he wrapped his hands around the mug she offered him.

“You’re welcome, mijo,” Ema replied. “Now Kelsey, honey, how long are you in town?”

“Uh, just until the day after Christmas,” you replied, swirling a finger along the ceramic rim of your mug. “This is the most time I’ve taken off since I started at the magazine,” you admitted with a hint of embarrassment.

Ema nodded. “Your mother said you haven’t made it home for a while. I know they keep you pretty busy there. Is that why you don’t visit so much?” she asked unassumingly.

Auston dropped his head and shuffled his feet awkwardly against the tile floor, and your eyes flickered to him as you racked your brain for an answer that wasn’t a complete lie but also didn’t unmask the whole truth — which was that being in a town that held so much history with your ex was simply too suffocating to bear, even for a quick visit with your parents. So, you typically just stayed in California where you could throw yourself into your work as a fashion writer at a well-known publication and operate under the illusion that you had moved on. From Scottsdale, from Auston, from your life before Los Angeles.

And especially from Toronto.

But the problem was, when the night fell and the lights all faded and you were left to face the truth, you knew in your heart that that’s really all it was — an illusion.

And from 2,500 miles away, Auston knew it, too. He knew it because he was living the same lie.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied sheepishly. “That’s the gist of it. Just, uh, just hard to get away sometimes. My parents usually come out to visit me instead since their schedules are, uh, a little more flexible.”

“Right,” Ema said skeptically as you took a long pull from your mug, despite the hot liquid singing your tongue and making your eyes water. “Well, either way, it’s so good to finally see you here,” she added warmly.

“It’s good to see you too,” you breathed, honesty dripping from that answer.

Auston finally looked at you again, giving you an understanding smile. Even that smallest of gestures made you dizzy.

“So,” you said as you moved away from the topic, sitting up a bit straighter. “Where are the girls? Where’s Brian?”

“Golfing,” Auston answered. “Like always,” he added with a chuckle.

“Why am I not surprised?” you teased, making both Ema and Auston laugh.

“They begged Auston to come with them, but he turned them down,” Ema informed you. “And now we know why.” She lifted her eyebrows and took another sip of her tea as Auston shook his head.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” he joked. “But no, they’ll be back soon. They can’t wait to see you.”

You brightened at that, not having seen the Matthews girls in nearly as long as it had been since you’d seen Auston himself, finding it easier to breathe when they weren’t nearby, reminding you of him with their every mannerism. And yet, you’d found that starving yourself of their friendship and their company ached nearly just as much.

“I can’t wait either,” you said through a distant smile.

“And Dad will probably cry more than Mom did when he sees you,” Auston predicted, lifting his mug. Ema swatted at his arm.

“Don’t start with me!” she warned. “I happened to see you choking up out there, too.”

You turned to Auston and raised an accusing brow at him. He simply chuckled into his tea and looked away, and the three of you sat in silence for a beat.

“Come on,” he finally said as he rested his mug on the island, nodding his head in the direction of the sliding glass door at the back of the house. “Lemme show you the patio.”

You nodded, knowing full well that showing off the backyard was not the real reason he was inviting you outside. Despite that knowledge, you hopped off the barstool, put your mug in the sink, and kissed Ema on the cheek as you passed her.

“Thanks for the tea, mamacita,” you said with a smile, squeezing her shoulders. “Anytime, mi amor,” she replied, sending a wink your way as you turned to follow Auston.

He slid open the door and motioned for you to step through it first. When he saw his mother watching you through the kitchen window, he gave her a knowing smirk, and she put her hands up in innocence. But as she watched you two walk out onto the patio through the glass, she breathed a silent prayer to any higher power who would listen that maybe, just maybe, you would finally come home.

Not to Scottsdale, no. Home to Auston.

Meanwhile, you were trailing your hand along the hammock near the pool, taking in the scene and trying to remember to breathe. When you heard him close the door, you turned back to Auston, your eyes floating around the backyard.

“Nice setup they’ve got back here,” you grinned, Auston chuckling with his hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts.

“Yeah, it’s even nicer in the summer,” he commented. You nodded, stepping closer to the pool and lowering yourself to sit on the edge, patting the space next to you as an invitation for Auston to do the same.

“We have chairs, ya know,” he grumbled as he took a seat. “Not all of us like to sit on the floor all day doing yoga.”

You sneered at him. “Oh, yeah, that’s what I do all day long,” you said sarcastically.

“Well, you used to, anyway,” he mumbled.

You gulped as visions of him watching you do precarious yoga poses on the living room floor of his apartment flickered in your mind’s eye, and then, once again, you moved right along.

“So… how’s it going, Matthews? How’s life?” you prompted, not even sure if you truly wanted to hear the answer to your inquiry.

He stretched out his long legs so that his feet were dangling above the water as he wondered where to even begin.

“It’s… it’s good,” he said. “Overall. It’s nice to be home for a few days. Needed that. I missed it. Missed my family. Missed…” he stopped himself, “…other things,” he added under his breath.

You chewed the inside of your cheek and decided to avoid the path he was taking this down. “How’s hockey?” you asked instead.

Auston shifted noticeably at the mention of his career, still painfully aware that, despite the successes it had brought him, it had ultimately caused the demise of your relationship.

“Hockey is… hockey,” he said. “Honestly it’s good on the whole. But the team’s not having the greatest year so far, which is rough.” You nodded, knowing better than most that the Toronto media operated at a different level of intensity and scrutiny than that of nearly all other markets, especially when the Leafs were losing, and especially when new blood was added into the equation, like Auston’s had been when they drafted him.

Like yours had been when you moved there with him.

The spotlight they shone on you — and the subsequent attention you received from so-called fans who took to the internet to question your intentions and integrity — had been far more than you bargained for.

Just as you were about to ask about how the guys on the team were faring, Auston spoke again.

“I think about calling you every time we come to LA, Kels,” he said, fixing his eyes on the neighbor’s house in the distance because he was simply unable to look at you while he admitted it. With a sniff, he added, “I’m not gonna lie about that.”

“Why don’t you?” you asked after a beat, maybe unfairly, studying his familiar profile. His features were the same, of course, but he looked… more mature. Older. Wiser. All that jazz. Auston shrugged, still not capable of looking at you.

“Just didn’t think you’d want me to,” he answered dejectedly. Your heart sank into your stomach. Given the things you’d said when you left him nearly three years ago, you could hardly blame him for that one.

“Well,” you started with a sigh. “I guess we could call it even then, because I think about coming to see you play every time you come to LA. Or Anaheim. Or even Vegas. And obviously Phoenix.”

“Well why didn’t you just call me asking for free tickets then,” he said in a tone that he tried to disguise as facetious, but you heard the hurt seeping into his words. “Everybody else I know in any NHL city does.”

You felt a fierce sense of protectiveness then, clenching your jaw as you tried to calm your irate thoughts. You watched him pick at the sleeve of his black Raiders crewneck and felt deeply for him — this man you’d loved since he was a little boy.

“Do they really? Still?” you asked in monotone.

Auston nodded, squinting in the sunlight. “Yup,” he answered, popping the ‘p.’ “Every game.”

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, covering your eyes with your hand and pushing into your temples. You blew out a long breath. “Fuck. I’m really sorry about that. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but I… it just sucks.”

Auston shrugged. “It’s not your fault,” he stated. “Sometimes I do it, sometimes I don’t. Kinda depends on whether the person’s actually talked to me lately.”

You nodded as he chuckled sadly, and you felt your chest tighten. “Well,” you began, clearing your throat. “I guess I wouldn’t qualify then because we haven’t talked much.”

Auston looked at you with intensity surging in his deep brown eyes, and you wanted to look away but found that you couldn’t.

“You always qualify,” he said seriously. “You’re one of the only people that qualifies.”

You bit down, hard, on your bottom lip and grappled internally with the weight of his comment. Then he said sarcastically, “Besides, I know you’re only after my money. I mean, you forced me to buy you that Louis bag the week after I got drafted.”

Your jaw dropped at his joke, and you scoffed indignantly. “Oh, yeah, the one you finally had to hide in my closet after I kept sneaking it back into your car because I wanted you to return it?” you corrected. “Yeah, ya caught me. You know me, Aus. Such a gold digger.”

Auston had started laughing halfway through your quip, but stopped suddenly. You gave him a questioning look, and he paused before answering.

“You called me Aus,” he stated with a smile he tried and failed to hide. “You went back to calling me Matthews after we broke up. But you… you just called me Aus again.”

“Yeah, well...” you grumbled, “Don’t get too excited.” You tossed him a smirk and he mirrored it, basking in the comfort of the moment.

“So whaddya think of the place? Not bad, right?” he finally asked, glancing around the property, back at the house, then settling his focus back on you.

You shrugged. “A little gaudy for my taste, but...” you began, and Auston shook his head bemusedly, knowing he set himself up for that one.

“No, it’s great. I can see how much your mom loves it. In all seriousness, I think it’s amazing, everything you’ve done for your family. Your parents. It’s pretty incredible,” you said earnestly. “I don’t think I said it enough when we were together, but, I’m really proud of you, Aus. And I don’t just mean about the hockey.”

Auston nodded soberly, turning his head to look you in the eye.

“I know you don’t,” he said quietly. “Thanks, Kels. It means a lot coming from you. More, uh… more than you know.”

And then, before you could think twice about doing so, you reached out your hand to rest atop his, feeling its familiar warmth as your fingertips grazed the raised veins there. Auston swallowed hard, blinking at where your hands now met, and slowly wrapped your fingers in his, giving them a squeeze. You exchanged long stares before you eventually slammed on the brakes in your brain and carried on.

“So, you just casually hang out with Justin Bieber now?” you asked, reaching your palms behind you and leaning back. “And the wildest shit is that I saw it first when he posted it, not you.”

Auston chuckled, looking down at his slides and — ironically — Drew socks combo. In his signature way, he halted his laughter on a dime and his face turned somber as he said dryly, “Yeah, I’m like really famous now, yanno?”

You sighed in annoyance, rolling your eyes as you looked skyward, feeling Auston’s gaze turn to you. You let it go for a few moments before shifting only your eyes toward his.

“What?” you asked accusingly. You could tell by the faraway smirk on his face that he was lost in a memory.

“Remember you had posters of him hung up all over your room in like middle school? From Tiger Beat magazine and shit? And now I play video games and mini sticks with the guy,” Auston said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, and if you ever tell him about that, I’ll end your life,” you threatened, shoving at his arm and attempting to ignore how much his biceps had grown since you last touched them. And then you were slamming the door shut on a rush of memories of having him beneath your touch — some innocent, but most intimate.

Auston saw it in your eyes — the place you went for a moment — as you dropped your hand back to the concrete beneath you. He knew where you went because, so often, he went there, too.

He held your gaze and promised, “Your secret’s safe with me. You know that.”

Only a hint of a smile graced your lips for a fleeting moment as you ran your fingers through your hair. Suddenly, you felt the heaviness of the history between the two of you closing in — smothering you, like it always did. Auston watched helplessly, wishing it didn’t have to be this hard.

And then, in a flash, like he so often did to save you from your swirling thoughts, he casually changed the topic as he commented, “Your hair’s shorter. You look like your mom. In a good way.”

Blushing, you breathed a laugh through your nose. “Thanks,” you said softly. “I think it’s the highlights, too.”

“It is,” Auston confirmed, and then — damn him — he reached out and looped a lock from the front of your face between his thumb and forefinger, the way he had done a thousand times before, usually mid-conversation, always absentmindedly. This time, you knew, as you forced your eyes to meet his, it was a bit more calculated. “I really like it,” he told you.

You nodded, searching his eyes to try and determine whether he had any idea what this — this moment, this visit, this day — really was.

“If you’re gonna ask me what we’re doing,” Auston spoke, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth for a second, “then I have to tell you I have no idea.”

Again, damn him. After all this time, it was like he still lived inside your brain and had read your every thought like the morning paper before you even had the chance to convey it. Which used to save you in a lot of ways. Now it felt kind of… intrusive. But somehow you didn’t mind.

“I had no idea what I was even gonna say when I called you. All I know,” he continued, still flipping the strand of hair around his fingers, “is that I really wanted to see you, and that I was really happy when you came, and that I’m really enjoying this time with you.”

You nodded, and as he pulled his hand from your face, his thumb brushed your jawline just slightly, and that touch alone sent a bolt of lightning through you. Auston smiled softly as he said barely above a whisper, “Okay, now it’s your turn to say something.”

You heaved a sigh, tipping your head back with eyes closed and soaking in the sunshine. “I don’t expect you to know, Aus,” you finally spoke. “I was just so... so shocked, I guess, that you wanted to see me. It’s been so long, I just... I didn’t know when I would see you again.”

“We’ve talked though,” Auston pointed out with a sigh to match yours, pulling a knee to his chest and wrapping his arms around his bent leg. “FaceTimed. Texted.”

You rolled your head toward him. “It’s not the same,” you reasoned softly, hesitantly reaching out your hand to tuck some of his black hair behind his ear. He licked his lips swiftly and placed a peck to your thumb before you slowly withdrew your hand.

“You’re right,” Auston conceded. “Definitely not the same.”

“Uh, sorry to interrupt...”

You were snapped out of your private moment by one person’s voice and another person’s squeal behind you.

“Oh, my god!” you yelled as you shot up from the side of the pool, Alexandria and Breyana already scampering toward you from the back door.

“It’s about goddamn time you came back to us!” Alex shrieked, wrapping her arms around you tightly. “I missed you, little sister,” she cooed, rubbing her hands across your back, and you hummed in agreement.

“I missed you, Al,” you replied, kissing her temple as you stepped back to greet the youngest of the Matthews clan.

“And you. My baby!” you exclaimed, pulling Breyana into your arms. “The true star athlete of the family,” you teased as she squeezed your waist.

“Damn straight,” Breyana giggled. “I missed you, Kels. I can’t believe you’re here!”

You pulled away, glancing behind you as you saw Auston slowly approaching out of the corner of your eye. “Me either,” you admitted, eyes widening dramatically as the girls snickered at you. “How was golf?”

“Brey smoked us, no surprise,” Alex replied. “But shut up about the golf. Tell us what’s going on with you two.”

“Alex!” Auston warned, shooting her a glare. “Please don’t.”

Alex gave him her best older sister roll of the eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as Breyana looked between the two of you.

“Nope,” Alex refused. “Not until you tell me what’s up. C’mon, spill.”

“We’re just...” you began, swiveling to look Auston’s way as he smirked down at you, happy to let you flounder in this one all on your own. “Visiting,” you finished, nodding once at Alex, pleased with your choice of verbiage.

“Honestly, you guys…” Breyana lamented.

“Visiting, huh?” Alex echoed, growing even more suspicious. “Yeah, okay. Sure. Wear protection. Anyways, uh—“

“Alex!” Auston repeated, this time through clenched teeth. “I swear to god...”

“Anyways, like I was saying,” Alex continued. “Your parents invited us all to their house tomorrow night for the Christmas party. I didn’t think you were gonna be there — does this mean you will?”

You nodded, causing Alex to clap excitedly. “I’ll be there with bells on,” you confirmed. “I already made my shortbread cookies.” All three siblings moaned in delight at the mention of your famous treats.

“Hell yeah! Plus that means we won’t be the only ones escaping to the balcony to drink,” Breyana commented.

“Brey, you’re like twelve,” Auston taunted, earning him a sharp elbow to the ribs from his younger sister. “You don’t get to drink with us.”

“Whatever,” she retorted. “Like you guys weren’t sneaking Mom and Dad’s liquor when you were younger than me.”

“Anyways,” Alex said yet again, clearing her throat. “We’re gonna go back inside now and shower, and just, uh, leave you guys to whatever it is you were doing beside the pool there. ‘Kay? ‘Kay. See ya,” she sang, spinning Breyana by the shoulders and guiding her inside, both girls whispering and giggling all the while. “Kels, I’ll call you tonight — you can tell me all about it!” Alex called over her shoulder, sliding the door closed.

You turned to see a pink tinge to Auston’s cheeks as he muttered, “Sorry,” with a dry laugh. You shook your head.

“No, don’t be,” you insisted, waving him off as you took a seat at the glass picnic table beside you, Auston following your lead. “It wouldn’t be a visit to the Matthews house without Alex torturing the both of us,” you teased.

Auston nodded. “Very true,” he said, and you knew he didn’t want to stop there, but he couldn’t seem to find what he did want to say next.

Instead, you ventured, “So what are your—”

At the very same time, he started, “Kels, would you maybe—”

You both chuckled at yourselves, locking eyes. This certainly wasn’t the first time this had happened in conversations — far from it. And usually, you were about to say the very same thing.

So, you motioned for him to speak first.

He toyed with the band of his watch as he said nervously, “I was just gonna say, uh, would you maybe wanna go to dinner with me? Tonight?”

You sat back in your chair, smirking, fully aware that you were teetering on a damn fine line.

“I was hoping you might say that.”

_____

An hour later, after reuniting with Brian (Auston was right — he cried more than the rest of his family combined when he hugged you), you headed home to change for dinner. As you pulled away from the Matthews house, you were thankful that Auston had offered to follow you in his own vehicle so that he could drive you to dinner, which in turn gave each of you a few minutes to breathe.

Surprisingly, your mother didn’t seem at all shocked to see the guest you had brought back with you. You had told her that you were going to visit the Matthews’, not specifying which member of the family had invited you, though she could venture a guess. When she watched two vehicles pull into the driveway side by side, she inhaled an excited gasp, a smile overwhelming her features as she came to meet you at the front door, just as you laughed at a lame joke Auston cracked about your driving.

Your mother nearly tackled him in a hug, which he warmly returned. He shared a similar bond with your mom to the one you shared with his, which was yet another piece that fit perfectly into the puzzle that was your relationship. So many pieces fit, and so few didn’t, but that still didn’t make things whole.

But, you ignored that thought — and so many others — as you left the two to chat, bounding up the stairs to change, now grateful that you’d brought more than one nice option to wear to the Christmas party tomorrow, considering the rest of your suitcase was filled with comfy loungewear.

How could you have ever planned for this?

After touching up your hair and makeup and putting on the more understated of the dressy outfits you’d brought, you returned to the kitchen where your mom and Auston stood huddled at the counter, near empty glasses of red wine in front of them both.

“Already boozin’, huh?” you teased as you folded your arms in front of you. They chuckled, and Auston glanced at you over his shoulder with a smile. When he laid eyes on you, though, he stood straight up and turned to face you, making no attempt to hide his stare, even in front of your mother. Without taking his gaze off of you, he threw back his final sip of wine and blew out a flustered breath. You knew you were blushing, so you walked past him to your mother, pressing your cheek to hers for an air kiss so as not to mess up your lipstick.

“Sorry to take your favorite boy away from you, but we should head out,” you announced as you looked back at Auston. He cleared his throat, walking to the other side of the countertop to hug your mom again, thanking her for the wine and something else that you didn’t quite catch.

He followed you down the hall, his hand ghosting along the small of your back as you reached for your purse on the coat rack. You looked back and blew a final kiss to your mom, who waved as she watched Auston open the passenger door of his car and help you in — both of you giggling as you crouched into the low-riding vehicle in your skirt and high heels. Like a mom of a young teen, she stood at the window and watched the two of you drive down the block and out of sight, hands clasped together wistfully as she turned back to finish placing the final decorative touches in the living room ahead of tomorrow.

Just a minute later, your dad came through the door from the grocery store, calling for her, sounding nearly breathless.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, smoothing the silk ribbon wrapped around the banister.

“Marie… did I just see Auston driving Kelsey down the road in a Porsche?” he gaped, his brow furrowed, thumb pointed over his shoulder.

She laughed, looking downward as she nodded.

“Yes, you did,” she confirmed, then looked at him as she felt tears welling. “Jack... I can’t say for sure, but I think maybe the girl is finally coming to her senses.”

A smile spread slowly across your father’s face and he came toward your mother, wrapping her in a hug.

“Well…” he began, kissing her temple. “Then maybe we’ll get our Christmas wish after all.”

“And what’s that?” your mom asked.

“For her to be happy again.”

_____

“You look amazing, Kels,” Auston said seriously from the driver’s seat. “Gorgeous.”

You gave him a coy smile and briefly inspected the outfit he’d chosen before leaving his own parents’ house.

“Thanks,” you said softly. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Auston grinned and decided he would take that.

Ten minutes later, he was pulling up to the restaurant you had already known he’d had in mind when he asked you to dinner, without even needing to discuss it. The same Italian restaurant where you’d celebrated infinite birthdays, anniversaries, Valentine’s Days, and other milestones. You fell into easy conversation during drinks and appetizers before Auston told a comical story about his teammates which led to an in that he knew he needed to take. 

“They miss you, you know,” Auston stated cautiously between bites of his shrimp scampi. “Mo. Mitchy. Especially Steph.”

You folded and unfolded the seams of the cloth napkin in your lap, considering your response.

“I miss them, too,” you eventually murmured. “So be real with me. You really like it there now?” you leveled with him.

His demeanor shifted — in a good way — as he replied. “It’s honestly great. I mean, you’d love it there now, Kels. I swear,” Auston said, shaking his head in wonder. “’M not just saying that. I mean, the hype is still there, yes, but it’s not at the level it was when I first started. Mitchy and Mo and Willy and I, all us guys who kinda started out together, we’ve all sort of found our groove with the media and stuff, and for the most part, it’s great. I have a feeling it’ll just keep getting better, too.”

You watched his eyes light up as he spoke about Toronto, relief and happiness washing over you. It didn’t seem so long ago that Auston was curled up on the couch, near tears, head in your lap, feeling incapable of living up to the expectations set for him — almost buckling under the immense pressure, the likes of which he had never felt before.

You let out a teary chuckle, swiping at a teardrop on your cheek that had fallen as he answered, taking you by surprise.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that, Aus,” you told him, holding your hand over your heart as it soared within you.

Auston nodded slightly, and his lips twitched into a sad smile. “There’s still something that doesn’t feel right though,” he confessed, though it didn’t feel much like a secret. “Still something missing.”

“And what’s that?” you asked timidly as you lifted your wine glass, excited for and fearful of his answer at all once.

“You.”

Forcing yourself to swallow your merlot so you didn’t spray it across the table, you put your fist to your mouth, holding it there while you attempted to process his latest, and most brazen, admission.

“I mean… look, there have been a few others,” Auston continued with a mindless shrug. “But never anything serious, and never anyone that I’m not constantly comparing to you in every possible way,” he told you, rolling his fingertips on the table and focusing on his hand as he spoke. “Feel kinda bad actually, because I know they all thought it was something more than it really was, and then I was always the one to break things off. I didn’t purposely lead them on, I just... once I got into it, I realized my feelings just weren’t in it.”

You opened your mouth to speak, hands limp in your lap, and then closed your lips in a tight line as you mulled over his words. You inhaled a shuddering breath and looked down, feeling the same shame that had overcome you countless times before come back again.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered without lifting your eyes.

“Kelsey…” Auston spoke firmly. “Look at me. Please.”

You did as he asked, lips pursed, and were met with his adoring, enchanting gaze, always too forgiving of your faults and mistakes.

“It’s okay,” he promised sincerely. “I understand. Trust me on that. I’ve always understood where you were coming from, but it seemed like there was just… just nothing I could do about it. Nothing I could do to make you stay, or to bring you back. That’s what made it so hard. That’s what still makes it so hard.”

You nodded. “Well — what you’re doing right now — whatever this is… it’s working,” you divulged, knowing this was a dangerous game and no longer caring.

“Is it?” Auston asked, a full-blown smile appearing now on his lips. Those lips you missed so damn much.

“Yeah,” you giggled, both of you grinning. “God, I missed your smile, Aus.”

“My smile?” he asked incredulously, then scoffed. “Your smile fucking breaks my heart, Kelsey,” he told you in his deepest tone, biting at the inside of his cheek as if he was trying not to lean across the table and kiss you full on the mouth right then and there.

And now, as you saw that look in his eye that you knew so well, you knew two things.

One, you were fucked. And two, you were in desperate need of a minute.

“I, uh, I gotta run to the ladies’ room,” you told him, standing, feeling unsteady as you pushed in your chair. Auston nodded knowingly and said, “Take all the time you need.”

You brushed a hand over his shoulder, the other holding tightly to your crossbody bag, as you attempted to walk in a straight line toward the restrooms across the restaurant floor. You were only one glass of wine deep, yet this night was making your head feel as fuzzy as if you’d just done a row of shots. Once safely inside the bathroom, you tossed your purse on the counter and held tightly to the sink to try and settle yourself, taking deep breaths in an attempt to control your racing pulse.

Just then, you heard a toilet flush, and your sense of solitude was quickly shattered when you saw a familiar blonde figure step out of the bathroom and lean closer upon recognizing you.

“Kelsey!” she exclaimed, moving toward the sink.

“Holly! Oh, my god,” you laughed as you squeezed her upper arm.

“Here, let me wash my hands and then I’ll give you a real hug,” she promised as you both giggled.

You had been a cheerleader throughout high school, and Holly, a year your senior, had been captain the year before you took on the title. Though you two weren’t particularly close, you had always looked up to her, and you’d kept in touch for a couple of years after you graduated before mostly falling off, save for the occasional hype comment or story reply on social media.

“How are you, girl? You look gorgeous!” she said as she threw her arms around you.

“So do you! I’m doing well, thanks. Home for the holidays,” you offered as she stepped back and nodded.

“Yeah, that’s great! Me, too,” she replied, then smiled mischievously at you. “To be totally honest, uh… I saw you when you were being seated. I didn’t wanna be weird or like, intrude, or anything but… I saw you come in with Auston. Are you guys like… back together?”

“Huh? Oh, no, no,” you laughed nervously, feeling yourself blush under her questioning. “We’re not back together. Just, uh, just two old friends, uh, catching up, ya know?” you reasoned nonchalantly as you reached for your bag.

“Oh. Right. Well... ‘tis the damn season, am I right?” Holly said with a chuckle, her own cheeks slightly flushed as she feared maybe she had made you uncomfortable by addressing the elephant in the room.

“Right,” you nodded cordially, then took a step toward her and patted her hand, wanting to make sure she didn’t think you were upset by her comment. “It’s so good to see you, Hol. I’m gonna head back out there—“

“Kelsey, wait,” Holly said urgently, grasping your arm before you could turn away from her. You blinked at her several times, glancing between her grip and her face as you waited to hear what had gotten into her.

“I just have to tell you... for what it’s worth, you guys still look so happy together,” Holly said. “Even if that’s not what this is. I just... I wanted to tell you that. As someone who has known you both for a long time, Auston never smiles as much as he smiles when he’s with you. It’s just nice to see.”

You gaped at your old friend, speechless, and she scrunched her nose at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cross the line, I just...” she trailed off.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to act casual. “No, no. Not at all. It’s okay. Thank you, for telling me. I just, I gotta run,” you said, leaning in to hug her again. “Bye, Hol. Have a merry Christmas.”

“You too, Kels. See you around,” She smiled as you moved toward the bathroom door. With one last polite nod at her, you exited and escaped to your seat.

As you reached the table, you had to physically restrain yourself from reaching out and running your hand along the back of Auston’s neck and affectionately trailing your fingertips over the short hair there, as you had done for so many years when approaching him and sidling up to him. Instead, you smoothed your hand over your dress and sighed as Auston turned his head to look at you, grinning as he watched you sit.

“You get lost?” he teased. You chuckled, throwing your hair behind your shoulders.

“Something like that,” you muttered, immediately reaching for your glass of wine, which you could tell had been refilled in your absence. Auston hummed in acknowledgement as you took a long sip, watching you all the while.

“One more glass and then we get outta here?” Auston suggested as you set the glass down. You only nodded.

_____

“Remember when you had that old truck, with the tires that were always muddy, and we used to just ride around Scottsdale all night long?” you asked Auston, both of you reminiscing about days gone by after leaving the restaurant.

Auston nodded, running his pointer finger across his upper lip, the other hand on the wheel, as he watched the memory projecting in his mind.

“‘Course I do,” he told you, and you didn’t miss the way his tone changed when he did, making you smirk.

“So, where to next?” you prodded. “Back to Casa de Matthews?”

He shrugged ambiguously, but secretly, he knew just what he wanted to do. “We could just ride around. Like we used to. If you want. I mean, there’s no real reason for us to rush back to our parents’ houses, right?” he said with a snicker.

This could get messy as the mud on the truck tires, you thought, but your response was already tumbling from your lips.

“Okay,” you said, smiling at him. “I’d say let’s go drive through the rich neighborhoods and look at Christmas lights like we used to, but that’s where you and your parents live now, so...” You clicked your tongue and Auston rolled his jaw, acting completely offended to hide how much he had missed you chirping him. The way it melted him.

“We’re still going,” he insisted, turning the wheel at the next intersection and pulling a U-turn. “We’ll just, uh, we’re just gonna maybe skip a couple neighborhoods, that’s all.”

You laughed — a real Kelsey belly laugh — and Auston watched as you lit up his world yet again. He didn’t even need to see any Christmas lights this year. He had all the light he needed right next to him.

Minutes later, he passed the usual first turn on your holiday lights tour and you furrowed your brow.

“Aus, where are you going? I wanted to see Ranchero Nuevo first. We always start there,” you reminded him.

“No, what’s the actual first thing we do when we go see Christmas lights?” Auston asked, pulling instead toward the strip mall at the next light. When you saw the green glow of the Starbucks sign up ahead, you smiled as it dawned on you.

“Get hot chocolate,” you said fondly. Instead of answering, Auston simply sent a soft smile your way. “You’re the greatest,” you lauded, igniting a pride that burned bright in Auston’s chest.

“Anything for you, babe,” he said before he could even realize what he’d just done. He snapped his head your way and saw that you were trying your damnedest not to smile.

He was completely taken aback as you quipped, “You can call me babe for the weekend.”

Auston did a double-take and then nodded once at your phone in your hands, which had just lit up with two missed calls and a particularly accusatory text from one Alex Matthews that you decided you would have to tend to later.

“Write this down,” Auston instructed curtly.

“What do you mean?” you laughed, holding your phone up curiously.

“I want proof that you just said that to me,” he deadpanned, jutting his chin toward your glowing screen and sending you into a fit of laughter.

After you’d both recovered, Auston picked up your drink — large peppermint hot chocolate, like always — and a coffee for himself, and you set off to wind your way through the same neighborhoods you had driven through countless times, admiring most of the decorations and poking fun at the gaudiness of some, laughing all the while, without a care.

As he pulled into a neighborhood you knew to be just a stone’s throw away from where he had recently purchased a house, Auston took a deep breath, fingers gripping the steering wheel rigidly, and decided to take the leap and say what had been circling through his brain since you’d stepped foot in the vehicle after dinner but had only just now worked up the nerve to say.

“What if we didn’t go back to our parents’ places tonight?” he asked abruptly, the words sounding much more jumbled and rushed than they had in his head.

You chuckled anxiously, staring straight ahead. “What do you mean?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and pressed on. “Hear me out. What if we just went to my place for the night instead? I don’t mean to like… to hook up, or anything,” he assured. “Just to be together. I just… I really fucking missed you.” 

Uh, whoops. He hadn’t exactly meant to slip that last part in there, but it was too late to turn back now.

There was a lengthy pause and the car was frighteningly silent as you weighed your options.

“Well...” you eventually said, nibbling on your bottom lip. “If it’s okay with you, then it’s okay with me.”

“Yeah?” Auston asked immediately, searching your face for confirmation that he had just heard you correctly. He couldn’t believe that this — any of this— was really happening.

You nodded.

“Yeah. And… Aus?” you spoke.

“Yes, Kelsey?” he asked softly, joy radiating from his whole being and seeping into his words.

You leaned your head back against the seat and reached to wrap your hand around his on the center console.

“I really fucking missed you, too,” you told him.

_____

“Why did you agree to come with me tonight anyway, Kelsey?”

You and Auston were each almost a full bottle of wine deep by the time he asked this, inhibitions now lowered. He’d barely finished giving you the tour before you were both so palpably overwhelmed by the reality of being alone together in his house, with so many feelings buzzing about frenetically, that you took the liberty of pulling a bottle of red from the wine fridge and asking for glasses and a corkscrew. Auston forked them over without question, and now you were deeply entrenched in the process of examining old battle wounds that had never quite healed.

“Because I missed you,” you answered truthfully. “And also because I owed it to you to accept your invitation when you took a chance by reaching out.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Kels,” he claimed, taking a swig.

You picked up your glass and passed by him as you began to pace the tile floor, unable to just be still during this exchange — this conversation that had been a long time coming.

“I do, though,” you argued. “You gave me everything. Everything. And I still left.”

Auston squeezed the stem of his wine glass so hard he feared he may just shatter it.

“I don’t want you blaming yourself for the things I put you through because of my career choice,” he said firmly, a hand splayed against his chest as he accepted the responsibility, just like he always did.

“But you didn’t choose to have the media posted up outside our apartment every day. You didn’t choose to have strangers stalking me and my family online. You didn’t choose to have them calling me a distraction and a leech and a gold digger and a wh—“

“Don’t say it,” he warned as he lifted a finger, referencing the specific instance of the smearing of your character that had left you broken enough to start packing your bags.

“Okay,” you conceded quietly, knowing just how sick that one word had made him. “But listen. Yes, you chose to play hockey. But you didn’t choose all that shit that came along with it. You didn’t know! Hell, you didn’t even get to choose where you played. But even so… honestly, I used to blame you for everything. Because back then, it was just easier for me to deal with it that way.”

Auston’s head hung between his shoulder blades as he leaned his palms against the bar, reliving the very same pain that had eaten away at him for the past three years, especially the acute ache that had come in the weeks immediately after you left.

“I know you did — blame me, that is,” he said softly. “And I understand why.”

You took slow and deliberate steps back to where he stood and rubbed your hand soothingly across his broad back, feeling the way his muscles relaxed under your touch.

“Hey… look at me, huh?” you asked, gently guiding his face toward yours with your fingers. “I don’t blame you, Aus. I don’t,” you assured, your eyes piercing into his. “Not anymore. I’ve grown. I know I did this. I know it’s my fault that we’re like this. I mean, fuck, I broke my own heart, and I know I hurt you. I just... at the time, I didn’t see a way forward on the road we were on.”

Auston’s mind was firing on all cylinders as he tried desperately to compute what he’d just heard, convinced he was gathering more from your words than you meant for him to.

“And now?” he ventured.

He watched as your pained expression turned to one of, dare he even think it, hope.

“I still see it, Aus,” you said. “I still see us ending up together. I know it’s out of the blue, but…”

“It’s not though,” he said, cocking his head a bit to punctuate his point. “I know it doesn’t make much sense, any of this, but… to me, it’s not out of the blue. I’ve wanted this for so long,” he told you. “And I just need you to know that. Regardless of what happens next.”

“Auston, you and me together… that’s the only thing that makes sense. That’s all that’s ever made sense to me,” you said, clarity washing over you. “But I just, I wasn’t ready. And I got so scared that I wouldn’t be able to handle your life that I… I just ran.”

“You can run, Kelsey,” Auston said softly as he, yet again, twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “But only so far.”

“Yeah…” you whispered. Then, without hesitation, you grasped his chin between your forefinger and thumb, turning his face to yours and studying his brown eyes just for a heartbeat before pressing your lips to his.

And for now, that was all that needed to be said.

_____

You hadn’t slept together. But you had slept together.

Too much crying and laughing and kissing and rehashing and wondering aloud had left you both emotionally drained and physically exhausted, and after dragging yourself into the master bathroom to throw on a crewneck and a pair of  Auston’s sweats, you’d promptly fallen asleep in his arms, a smile on his features even in sleep.

The next morning it occurred to you, with your cheek pressed against his bare chest and your legs entangled with his, that Auston’s bed — whether here, or in the house where he grew up, or in Toronto — was the warmest one you’d ever known. Though you could tell by the sunlight flooding the room that it was late in the morning, you couldn’t bear to move away from him. 

Soon, he, too, began to stir. As he squinted in the daylight and peered down at you, he closed his eyes once more, a peaceful grin on his lips.

“Oh, thank god that wasn’t just a dream,” he whispered. You chuckled, your fingertips lazily drawing shapes on his pecs as you nuzzled your head further into his neck.

“Nope,” you established. “This is very, very real.”

You lay in quiet thought for a moment before adding softly, “But what happens now?”

At that, Auston’s eyes opened wider this time, a slight panic visible in his face.

“Well,” he began, smoothing his hand over your head and kissing your hair. “What happens now is that we get some coffee.”

You sighed at his attempt to make light of the situation and pushed yourself to sit straight up in bed, cross-legged in front of where he lay on his side.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” you spoke, your fingers pulling anxiously at the bedsheet below. “Yesterday was like a fever dream and now... now we have to face reality.”

Slowly, Auston sat up, too, and pulled you into his lap, allowing you to rest your back against his torso as he gathered your hair at the nape of your neck in a makeshift ponytail.

“Everything that happened yesterday was reality, baby,” he insisted, kissing the crown of your head.

“Our feelings, yes,” you allowed. “But not the rest of it. I mean, fuck, we’re both leaving town in —“ you glanced at the bedside clock and were shocked by the 11:27 that stared back at you, realizing you’d practically slept in half the day — “48 hours. And then what? I go back to LA and you go back to Toronto and we just wonder about—“

“Baby, stop,” Auston begged as he turned you to face him, bringing your forehead to his lips. “Take a breath,” he said, stroking your jaw with his thumbs as he looked down at you, concern etched into his features. “We don’t have to figure all this out right this minute. In fact, we’re not going to. For right now, let’s just let this be what it is. And you have to try and stop spinning your wheels so fast. You’re gonna burn a hole in my floor,” he joked, kissing your nose.

You chuckled sadly, holding his wrists. “You’re right,” you eventually told him. “We’ll figure it out, somehow. I know we will,” you sighed, frowning. “First things first though, I have to get home and help my mom get ready for the party tonight.”

Before you could get out of bed to start gathering your things, Auston circled his arms around your hips and kept you in his lap. “Wait, gimme a smile first,” he requested.

You looked up at him and offered a tight-lipped smile, still distracted by the future of your relationship teetering precariously in the balance.

Auston shook his head. “That’s a fake Kelsey smile,” he accused, accurately. “Don’t even try me.”

With another deep sigh, you muttered, “You’re the only soul who can tell.”

“Who can tell what?” he asked, hugging you tighter.

You looked up at him for a moment, feeling more seen than you had in years. “Which smiles I’m faking,” you said quietly.

A pleased smile twitched at the corners of Auston’s lips before he pressed his mouth to yours.

_____

Auston walked into your parents’ house that night with his understated charm and a devastating ensemble of a maroon suit, white shirt with the top few buttons undone, and black loafers, looking every bit the GQ model he was once upon a time. With two bouquets of red roses and a bottle of champagne in hand, he knocked on the glass and your dad met him enthusiastically at the door.

“What’s the occasion?” your dad then chuckled, a bit puzzled. Auston glanced to where you stood near the staircase, waiting to greet him, and smiled.

“These are for your daughter,” Auston said as he grasped one bouquet. “And these are for your wife,” he said as he gestured toward the other. Your dad raised his eyebrows, looking between the two of you pensively, and let out a loud laugh. “Well, how thoughtful! And the champagne?” your dad asked as Auston stepped toward you and tucked one bunch of roses into your hold. He kissed your cheek chastely and turned back to your dad.

“Well, you never know when you’re gonna have something to celebrate,” Auston said with a smirk. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and your dad clapped Auston’s back appreciatively before leaving the two of you to your moment.

“Thank you, for the flowers,” you said softly, staring up at him. “They’re beautiful.”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a nod before your aunt and uncle suddenly appeared in the doorway, loudly greeting you and pushing their way toward you for hugs as Auston gave them their space and waited for you to become available again.

His patience lasted all of five minutes as he made vague pleasantries with the handful of guests who had already arrived, before he was approaching you again, eager to do what he really came here to do and unable to wait a moment longer. As you turned away from a brief conversation with a longtime next-door neighbor, Auston gently grasped your wrist as he said hastily, “Can I see you outside for a second?”

You didn’t have much of a choice as he led you hurriedly through the formal living room and out the French doors to the balcony, closing them behind you and backing you into a corner, hidden from view.

“Aus, what are you—“

He pressed his body into yours, nudging you back against the rail as he took your face in his hands and kissed you hungrily.

“Doing,” you whispered when he let up, completing your earlier thought as you pressed your fingertips against your swollen lips and looked up at him, your cheeks reddening.

“That,” he answered simply with a small smile. “And I wanted to give you something...”

He patted his pockets to determine where the object was, and your eyes widened.

“Auston, no!” you exclaimed, squeezing his elbows in an attempt to stop his search. “You can’t. I didn’t get you anything. I —”

“Kelsey, are you crazy? Yes, you did,” he said firmly. “Time with you. You gave me time with you. That’s all I’ve wanted for the last three years. That’s more than I could have ever asked for.”

There was nothing you could say then, nothing that sounded worthy enough to hold any significance in such an already meaningful vignette of the two of you. Auston took your silence as his opportunity to pull a mid-sized, square, red leather box from the pocket of his suit jacket, the name “Cartier” imprinted in gold script on the lid.

“Auston, stop,” you warned in a whisper, knowing what was inside and knowing that you would be rendered completely incapable of walking away from him once he offered this gift to you, knowing what it signified for both of you. He shook his head, knowing that your request was an empty one. He propped open the box and placed it on the small wrought iron table in front of you on the balcony. You couldn’t peel your eyes from it as your mind raced with questions.

“How... where... we slept until noon, Aus,” you stuttered. “All the stores were closed. Where did you even buy this?”

He pursed his lips and nodded once, then put his hands into his pockets and admitted, “I’ve had it for almost three years, Kels.”

You blinked again and again, not processing what he’d just revealed.

“I’m sorry... what?”

“I bought this for you for Valentine’s Day three years ago,” he continued. “I bought it and I hid it in my closet and I was gonna give it to you but we broke up on —“

“January 30th...” you whispered. Auston’s brows knit together in agony, and his throat constricted.  

“You remember too,” he stated quietly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I remember a little too well,” you said, sniffling as you glanced down at the box again.

Suddenly, your mind drifted back not to that fateful day in his apartment in Toronto, but instead to lying on your stomach as a kid in your family room, flipping through the pages of your favorite issue of your mom’s old Vogue magazines, as Auston used a yardstick and a Nerf ball as makeshift hockey equipment, taking shots at your couch again and again while you soaked in the photos of beautiful models, trendy clothing, and expensive jewelry, as visions of working at a fashion magazine someday twirled through your daydreams.

“Whatcha readin’?” a ten-year-old Auston inquired as he dropped next to you to take a break from his game.

“Vogue,” you answered, turning another page. “Like usual.”

Auston nodded, spotting a pretty woman in a tight black dress and commented, “Cool,” with a laugh. “If you could have anything in that book, what would you pick?”

Ever the master of sass, you rolled your eyes.

“It’s a magazine, Aus,” you corrected with venom in your voice as Auston rolled his own eyes. “But, if I had to pick... I know just what I want,” you informed him, leafing through the issue to get back to an ad in the front. When you finally found what you were seeking, you plopped the magazine down again, smacking your hand onto its glossy pages.

“That,” you said, pointing to the gold bangle. “It’s called the Love Bracelet. It says that it gets bought by somebody you love and then they have to use a screwdriver to put it on you.”

“A screwdriver?!” Auston asked incredulously. “Wouldn’t that hurt?”

You giggled. “No, silly,” you drawled. “It doesn’t hurt. But then the person who loves you is the only one who can put it on you or take it off you. You can’t do it by yourself.”

Auston nodded. “Cool,” he repeated, more seriously this time. You sighed wistfully as you gazed down at the bracelet.

“Yeah, but it’s a whole bunch of money, and my dad said he isn’t buying it. He said maybe my husband will get me one someday,” you said sadly. Auston watched your face drop, then, he got an idea.

“How about this,” he offered, nudging you with his elbow. “If I get famous for playing baseball, or hockey I guess, and I make a boatload of money, then I’ll buy you that bracelet. ‘Kay?”

You blushed, hunching your shoulders as you were slightly embarrassed by your best friend’s offer. Still, you loved Auston, and you knew he loved you. He was the only person you wanted to get that bracelet from, except for like, your mom or dad.

“Okay,” you agreed. “You promise?”

Auston dragged his index finger over the left side of his chest. “Cross my heart,” he confirmed.

This time, it was your turn to say, “Cool.”

“I asked my mom to hold onto it,” you heard him telling you now. Now that you’d become the people you’d said you’d be. Now that you both had grown into the farfetched dreams you’d shared as children. Now that you’d come back home — back to one another. Now that he was here, in front of you, again. “I just couldn’t bear to take it back, even though I honestly never thought I’d get the chance to give it to you.”

You were shaking your head endlessly, attempting to stop tears from streaking your face. “I can’t believe this...” you said, awestruck.

“I don’t have to put this on you right now,” Auston said, swallowing his own tears he felt creeping up on him. “I just want you to have it. It’s yours. You should keep it.”

With a few swipes at your undereyes, you rubbed away the wetness on your hands and then extended your left wrist to Auston. A smile flashed briefly across his lips before he set them in a straight line once more.

“Are you sure?” he asked, caution in his voice.

You pulled him in by his waist, beaming, before you answered.

“I’ve played this out basically every night since I left,” you told him. “Even when I was with somebody. I just followed the path my mind was taking me all the way to the very end, until there was no place left to go. And it always leads to you. It always leads me home.”

Auston pulled you into a searing kiss, both of you smiling into it, before he squeezed your hand and reached for the box, carefully disassembling the bracelet so that he could put it on you at last.

“All day I’ve been thinking about what I said earlier. About running,” you spoke as Auston worked on securing the bracelet. “I started running and running and it’s been such a mess since then. Nothing about the past three years made any sense to me. And then I saw you, and… it all made sense again. You and I were the only thing that ever made sense to me,” you told him, your voice wavering as he twisted the final screw into place, lifting the inside of your wrist to his lips and placing a warm, reverent kiss to the skin there, his eyes never leaving yours as he did. “So I’m done. I’m done running, Auston. I can’t run anymore.”

“You have no fucking clue how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,” Auston admitted, touching his forehead to yours before leaning back. “So, to your earlier point... what the hell are we supposed to do now?”

You ran a frazzled hand through your long hair and bit at the inside of your cheek as you formulated your response. “I mean, I have to go back, Aus. I’m working on a really big project...”

Your words put him into a tailspin of his own this time, watching the dreams he had let resurface over the last two days come crashing down in front of him all over again. You were eluding him. Again.

His ears were buzzing so loudly that he barely heard your next words.

“But maybe after that... I could come and spend some time in Toronto?”

Auston pulled his tongue away from the roof of his dry mouth and pleaded, in a voice barely above a whisper, “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t say that unless you really mean it,” he said, desperation in his tone.

“I mean, really, I don’t have a choice,” you pointed out with a breathy laugh, your fingers tracing the cold metal of the bangle around your other wrist. “I don’t see any other way that this ends. Not after this. This perfect fucking weekend. I mean... do you?”

“No,” he quickly retorted. “No, I don’t. I was just scared that you... that this was going to be it for you. That we would have this incredible time together and then it would just be another chapter in the Auston and Kelsey history book.”

You smoothed your hands over his lapels, allowing your body to fully relax into his.

“Auston, this... this is different,” you said somberly. “Before, it all just felt like too much. I got scared. We were so young, Aus. I mean, we’re still young, but we were babies. And now... I’ve realized that dealing with the press and the social media and the fans... it’s worth it to me. I’ll never like it. But I love you. And that’s enough. That will always be more than enough for me — being with you. And I’m so sorry that it’s taken me this long, that it took me finally coming back home, to realize that.”

“Don’t be sorry, Kels, please,” Auston whispered, one hand clutching at your hip, the other tangled in the hair at the back of your head as he held onto you with everything he had, knowing he was ready to do so for as long as you would let him. “Just... just say it again, baby. Please?”

“I love you, Aus,” you whispered, tears falling freely down your cheeks as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m never gonna stop.”

“Don’t stop,” Auston pleaded, nuzzling his nose against yours before pressing his lips to your mouth. “Don’t ever stop. Promise?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

“Cross my heart,” you whispered, drawing a pretend line across your chest before cupping his cheek and kissing him tenderly.

#my writing #tis the damn season #evermore #evermore fic #auston matthews #auston matthews writing #auston matthews fic #auston matthews fanfic #auston matthews fanfiction #auston matthews imagine #song fic #toronto maple leafs #hockey writing #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey #nhl hockey #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine

[wonder-kid-pugh]

Coming Home for Christmas - (Mal Pugh x reader)

Mal loved Christmas

It was without a doubt her favourite time of the year. Every year it felt like she was 6 years old again as her excitement grew with each passing day getting closer and closer to Christmas. She just loved everything about it. The playing in the snow. Spending time with the family. Belting out the lyrics to Christmas songs. Drinking hot chocolate while snuggling up in front of the fire.

But what really made Christmas special was the people she spent it with.

One of the few downsides of being a professional soccer player is the lack of time. She spent so much of the year away from family and always training whether it be for club or the national team meant she didn't get to see her family as much as she would have liked. Not to say she regretted any of it. It was the one of the few sacrifices of being on one of the best teams in the world. No, what she regretted was the lack of time. She regretted how time seemed to slip by so easily. It just seemed to slip through her hands. She could do nothing but watch as it helpless slipped away.

But that's what made the holidays even better. She cherished the time she got to spend surrounded by her family and friends. It just made the holidays just so special no matter how stressful it was at times.

It was also a constant reminder of her relationship.

Y/n L/n has been in Mal's life since she was 6 years old. She has been there through the highs and lows of her life and her career. They had done practically everything together. Growing up she attended every single one of Mal's games and whenever she needed someone to help her practice Y/n was always there to fill whatever position was required. Y/n was Mal's first call after getting called up the National Team and you better believe your ass that Y/n was there in the front row cheering her on when she made her debut. It was only after Y/n surprised her at the game did she realised that she had fallen for her best friend.

Mallory had fallen and had fallen hard

So you can only imagine her delight when on Christmas Day 2017 after both being caught under the mistletoe together Y/n kissed her confessing how she's been harbouring feelings for the forward for a while now. Mal was so dazed by what was happening that she could only stare shocked at the poor girl leading her to believe she didn't feel the same. It was only when the girl started to stumble over her words apologizing profusely for her actions did Mal regain her senses and pull her back into a gentle kiss.

And that was the beginning of their relationship.

It also didn't hurt that it was the same day a year later that they told each other that they loved each other. Christmas for Mal was her favourite time of year for all those reasons. I mean how could you possibly hate Christmas after all that? She had everything she needed. But this year it was slightly different. She had the snow, she had the carols, she had the presents. She even had family.

But she didn't have Y/n.

See while Mal decided to join the Bruins and eventually The Spirit, Y/n enlisted in the Army. Ever since she was younger all she wanted to do was help people. She wanted to make people's lives better. She wanted to do some good in the world. So she became a medic for the Army. Running into battle to help the people who help serve and protect their country. And although it was tough they preserved. Y/n's selflessness was one of the reason she fell in love with her and as much as she hated being away from her, Mal knew that she couldn't stop Y/n from doing what she wanted to do and that was to help people.

She missed her girlfriend. But Mal knew that it wouldn't be for much longer. Y/n promised she would be here for Christmas. It was their holiday. She would never miss such and important day for the two of them. And she never breaks her promises. Which is why Mal as happy as could be answered the facetime request immediately after seeing her girlfriend's name flash on the screen.

She immediately stopped everything she was doing and smiled as she answered the facetime request. She practically squealed when she saw the image of her girlfriend who's been away from her for over a year now, "Hey Babe!" But her smile faltered when she saw Y/n give her a weak smile in return, "Hey Love". Mal scrunched up her eyebrows, "What's wrong?" Y/n sighed and bites the corner of her lip as she stares back at her long term girlfriend.

Immediately Mal knows something is wrong. Mal has known her girlfriend long enough to know that her has a habit of biting the corner of her lip when she's nervous about something.

Or something has gone terribly wrong

"What's wrong?" Mal asks as she frowns lightly at the screen. Y/n's shoulders slumped as she released a big sigh dragging her hand down her face. This did nothing to ease Mal's nerves, "Y/n?" Y/n looked sadly at the Mal as she wanted nothing more than to hug her in this moment after the disaster of a day she had today, "There was an attack on the base...".

Mal's eyes widen, "Oh my god! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" She quickly shakes her head, "No! No I'm fine. Everyone's fine. A few bumps and bruises but nothing we can't handle". Mal could see Y/n look down no doubt playing with her fingers before she looked back up at her sadly, "The plane on base that was planning on bringing us home was damaged in the attack". Mal's breath hitched as Y/n continued, "It was the only plane on base at the moment and there's a storm incoming and they don't think they can get a plane here in time before it hits".

"What does that mean?" Mal asked her voice dropping to a whisper. She tried to look anywhere else but her y/e/c met Mal's brown orbs lacking their usual sparkle, "I don't think I'm going to be home for Christmas".

It was that moment that Y/n wished nothing more than to tell her it was a terrible joke. She could feel her heart break as she watched as Mal's face dropped. The smile that never failed to light up a room disappeared in a second.

And the worst of it all was the fact that there was hundreds of miles in between them stopping her from comforting the love of her life.

"I'm really sorry Love. But because of the storm they can't get another plane to get us home. And it means that they're short on medics so they need me to stay until they can get someone to replace me. I swear Mal if there was a way-" she tried to soften the blow as if it would relieve the forward in some way.

Mal could see how distraught the medic was at telling her the devastating news. She knew that she would rather give her left arm than miss Christmas at home. She knew that she was trying her best to seem okay for her because as much as Mal hated the idea of not being together for Christmas.

She knew that Y/n hated it more

"Babe?" Mal says stopping Y/n from her ramble before she went into a downward spiral. She tries to put on her most convincing smile as she looks at her through the camera, "Y/n it's okay. I-its okay really. There's nothing you can do about it. It's just really unfortunate timing". Her face softens as she looks at me sadly, "You know I'm going to do everything in my power to get back home to you as soon as possible right?" Mal smiles lightly, "I know".

It looked like she wanted to say more before her name was called sounding very urgent, "Shit Love I'm really sorry I have to go. His condition just dropped-". But I shake my head, "It's okay go save a life". She snorted at the saying her girlfriend had taken to telling her everytime she had to go away. She quickly kissed her hand putting it to the camera before quietly whispering, "I love you superstar". I smile at her softly, "I love you too Hero". She gave me one last smile before the call disconnected.

Mal sighed as she dropped her phone burying her head in her hands. The most important holiday of the year and she's missing the most important person in her life. Mal loved Christmas.

But this Christmas already seemed off to a bad start.

............

"Is everything okay Mal Pew Pew?" Sonnet asks as she dropped into the seat across from the sombre forward. Everyone noticed that the forward's mood had dropped significantly since the day before. Everyone knew how excited she got at Christmas. The already happy going forward just seemed to shine even brighter at Christmas.

So what happened between yesterday and now that made the forward do a complete 180?

"Yeah what's up? There's been something off with you since yesterday" Lindsey adds as the rest of the team listened in on the conversation. Mal just checks her phone once more only to see that there is still no new message from Y/n. The forward sighs as she runs her hand through her hair, "Y/n's base was attacked".

Everyone's eyes widen as they look at the younger player. "What? Is she okay?" Rose asks sitting up. Mal nods, "Yeah she's okay but she won't be home for Christmas". Everyone was silence. They all knew how important Christmas was for Mal and Y/n. They saw how much the two loved each other. They were the light of each others lives. And they knew how devastated they must be being away from each other at such an important time of the year.

"Awe we're sorry Mal" Christen says as she drops into the space beside the forward with Tobin right beside her as always. Mal shrugs trying to play it off, "It's okay. There's nothing we can do about it. Just really unfortunate timing". Nobody says anything knowing that nothing could make up for the loss of a love one on the holidays. All Christen did was pull the younger forward into a hug.

After all the hell that was the Corona Virus the team decided to hold a massive team celebration for the holidays. All the player's families were all going to join at the end of camp and all spend Christmas together. And while Mal was grateful she would be surrounded by so much friends and family, nothing could replace Y/n being there.

If only she knew how much Y/n was busting her ass trying to get home to her....

...........

Y/n stood back straight hands behind her back as the general looked her over. He eyed one of his top medic up and down, "Are you sure this is what you want?" But all she did was nod respectfully, "Yessir". Even though he look a bit reluctant he nodded nonetheless, "Although I don't like it". Y/n  tensed up before he continued, "I respect your decision and understand why you want to". Y/n relaxed the tiniest bit as she nodded at her superior, "Thank you sir". He starts to nod before he starts filling out some paperwork, "Go pack your bags".

Y/n scrunched her face lightly, "Sorry sir? I don't understand". He just glances up at me with a small grin, "You have a plane to catch". He looks back down going back to writing, "You better hurry. The planes going to be here soon and you need to leave soon to beat the storm". You couldn't stop the smile spreading across the young medic's face, "Thank you sir. For everything". He looks up from his paperwork, "Go home to your girl L/n". Y/n gave him one last salute before rushing out to go pack her bags. The General shook his head with a small smile. Although he hated losing his best medic he knew that where she needed to be was home.

It was the best news she had ever heard. They were somehow able to scramble a nearby charter plane to bring some troops home. Y/n being one of them. Within 15 minutes Y/n had all her belongings packed and was running towards the plane which was scheduled to lift off in 2 minutes. She had just make it into the plane as they were about to lift off. As she had got on the plane she took out the small Polaroid picture of her and Mal. She smiles as she ran her thumb over the creased photo showing just how many times she had taken this photo out. She quickly placed a gentle kiss to the precious photo before tucking it away again and instead swapping it out for her phone.

It was a long flight home but it was okay because Y/n had some major stuff to plan and it would all be worth it in the end to be able to see Mal on Christmas Day.

............

"Christ" Y/n mutters as she pulls her jacket closer to her. Being away from home for so long she almost forgot how cold it was in her home state. However the cold Colorado weather did nothing to deter the medic though as she felt a wave of warmth flood through her as she knew she was so close to seeing her family again. She was close to seeing her Mal again.

Although it seemed like the world was against her today.

It was hard enough for Y/n to find a taxi to drive her to where she needs to be. She blamed it on the heavy snow falling and the fact that most people were probably at home, all bundled up in blankets surrounded by their loved ones enjoying one of the best holidays of the year.

Exactly where Y/n should be right now

Thankfully her prayers were answered as one car pulled over and allowed her in. She quickly told the driver where she was heading before slumping against the seat. They were driving comfortably for a while and Y/n struggled to sit still in the seat.

That was until she faced her next problem

"Shit.." the driver mutters quietly but Y/n was able to hear him over the popular Christmas songs playing quietly from the radio. Y/n leans forward, "What's wrong? Why are we stopped?" The driver gave her a sympathetic, "Sorry but the snow's too heavy and is blocking the roads causing traffic. It pretty much bumper to bumper right now". Y/n sighs as he turns to her fully obviously seeing how important it was for her to get where she needs to be.

Y/n flops back against the seats, "Fuck..."

.............

"Okay time to hand out presents!" Vlatko calls out to all the families scattered around the room. Mal grudgingly gets up from playing with Marley who had been doing well from distracting the girl from missing Y/n right now to now sit beside her sister as everyone moved to the Christmas tree they had set up.

Brianna who could see how much Mal was struggling to get into the Christmas spirit without Y/n present, "You okay?" Mal plasters on a fake smile even though she knows that her sister knows just how fake it is, "I will be". Brianna doesn't say anything and instead turns to her daughter who looks at her aunt confused tilting her head, "I think Aunt Mally needs a hug right now. Don't you think Marls?"

The small girl smile and jumps into her aunt's arms never one to deny a hug. Mal chuckles lightly as she hugs the small girl back, "Thanks Marls". Marley smiles brightly as she turns so she's sitting in Mal's lap as she starts to fiddle with the forward's fingers to keep her occupied.

Mal sat and watched as people one by one exchanged gifts which lifted her spirits the tiniest bit. The team had made it their mission to help their crestfallen teammate. They had done everything and anything which came with the perfect Christmas. They had baked cookies, made gingerbread houses, sang Christmas carols, built snowmen, everything. Which Mal appreciated very much as it relieved the ache in her heart slightly.

And before she knew it, it was her turn to pick presents. "Want to help me open my presents?" Mal asked the little girl in her lap who nodded enthusiastically. But just as they started tearing into the first present the door burst open.

Mal's face scrunched up as she heard her teammates gasp looking at something behind her. She shifts around turning to see how has her teammates attention. But her eyes widened as she saw who stood behind her staring straight at her.

Because there stood Y/n L/n

Brianna was the first to recover as she moved her daughter out of her sisters lap and into hers. At this Mal scrambled to her feet and ran into Y/n who had her arms open waiting for her. "Your here" Mal cried out into her shoulder as she clutched onto her for dear life, "your really here".

Y/n had never felt more complete in her life as she wrapped her arms around the girl she so desperately loved, "I'm here Love. I'm home". Hearing this Mal pulled back and kissed Y/n harder than she ever had before. In any other moment they would have been mindful that they were in a room filled with the family and friends but all that mattered in that moment was each other. After being away from each other for just over a year, all they cared about was that they were back in each others arms.

Once they separated Mal looked into Y/n's eyes as both their eyes started to water, "But how? I thought-you said you couldn't-". Mal just couldn't get the words out but Y/n chuckled, "Did you really think I wouldn't move heaven and earth to make it back to you for Christmas?" Mal laughs but as she wrapped her hand around her neck and Y/n held her face in her hands she flinched lightly, "Why are you so cold?"

Y/n looked a bit sheepish as she gave her a small smile and her cheeks flushed but Mal could tell whether it was from the cold or her question, "Well I was in a rush and I didn't get time to change. And then we got stuck in traffic and then the taxi broke down. So I kinda ended up running here".

Mal pulled back a bit shocked, "You ran here? Babe it's snowing outside!" "Oh trust me I know" Y/n laughed making her girlfriend shake her head at her in disbelief. "Beside" Y/n grinned, "it's not the first time I ran through a snow storm to tell you I loved you". Mal smiles at the memory of how when they first said that special 4 letter word with Y/n almost killing herself in the process as she ran through a snowstorm to Mal's house to tell her before Mal could even get a blanket around her to warm her up.

"Your so stupid" Mal mumbles as she brushes from snow out of Y/n's hair. But that doesn't stop the massive face splitting smile from spreading across Y/n's face, "I love you too". Mal smiles as she presses another kiss to her girlfriend's lips, "I love you more than anything in the world".

Mal took her girlfriend's hand and dragged her towards their friends and family, "Cmon let's get you warmed up". But they didn't make it far before something collided with Y/n's legs, "Y/n!" Y/n smiles as she picked up the small girl in her arms, "Hey Marls". The small girl tucked herself into the crook of Y/n's neck and she wrapped her arms around her neck in a tight hug, "I missed you". Y/n just kissed her head and hugged her back gently, "I missed you too Marley". "Not as much as me" Mal said quietly leaning into the medic's side causing her to wrap her arm around the soccer player.

After greeting her family and friends from her long time abroad she found her place right beside Mal as they resumed opening Mal's presents. The two were making sure that they were always touching in some sort of way as Marley help the two open Mal's presents. Once Mal opened her last present Y/n gave her a small smile, "I'm sorry I don't have a present for you..." But Mal simple shakes her head intertwining their fingers, "The greatest gift I could ever receive is having you home for Christmas".

Y/n smile brightly, "Well that's good because..." Mal frowns as Y/n detaches theirs and stands up in front of her for a second. But that all changes when Y/n bends onto her knee.

There was a pin drop silence as everyone watched in awe as Y/n pulled out a small box smiling at the forward who's eyes started to water once more with her hand clasped tightly in front of her mouth.

"Mallory Pugh" she starts, "you have been an essential part of my life since I was 6 years old. I couldn't possibly imagine my life without you there. Through the highs and lows, through the best and worst of times we have been there for each other. And the thought of not being home for Christmas with you made me realize something". She takes a deep breath as she sees tears stream down Mal's face, "I don't ever want to worry about missing another Christmas with you. I want to be home for every Christmas for the rest of our lives. I want to be there cheering you on at every match. I want to be the one you come home to and argue about with one of us do the dishes". Everyone laughs while Mal snorts remembering all the playfully arguements they have over who's turn it is to do the dishes only to end up doing them together in the end.

"I want to start a family with you. I want to give you all the things I promised you if you'll let me. So..". She opened the small box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring, "Will you, Mallory Diane Pugh, make me the happiest person alive and marry me?"

Mal doesn't even say anything and instead flings herself into Y/n's arms. The force of which sends the two of them toppling to the ground. But Y/n barely had anytime to recover as Mal smashed her lips against hers. They were vaguely aware that everyone else was cheering like mad for the young couple. When Mal finally broke the kiss, the two of them gasping for air, Mal nods frantically, "Yes. Yes! I will marry you". Y/n smiled before bringing her into another kiss.

As Y/n lifted them up off the ground they were immediately swarmed by their family. "It's about time!" Horace laughs as he hugs Y/n. Mal's eyes widen, "You knew?!" He shrugged sending a wink at the medic, "She's had our blessing since you were 18". Mal looked at Y/n who blushed, "I asked ages ago but I wanted to wait a little longer until we were both stable". Mal nods and interlocks their fingers kissing her cheek.

"So how long do we have you for?" Rose asked after looking at the ring perched on her friend's finger. Mal's smile falters slightly as she looks to her now fiancée. But Y/n smiles brightly down at her soon to be wife, "How about forever?"

Now this catches everyone's attention

"What?" Mal breathes out. Y/n smiles, "As of today I have been honourably discharged from service". Mal jumps up again wrapping her arms and legs around her, "Your staying?" Y/n nods kissing Mal's temple, "Forever Love. I'm staying forever".

Once again everyone smiles the young couple as Vlatko smiles, "I guess now is a good time to introduce our teams new addition to the medical staff". Everyone turns to Y/n who smiles. All the youngsters plus Kelley jump on top of Y/n and start cheering. "I'll also be taking over diets and fitness training alongside Dawn so I don't know if you'll be cheering for much longer" Y/n laughs.

Once everything gets back on track, Mal takes residences in Y/n's lap as they move onto Tobin's gifts. "I love you so much Superstar" Y/n whispers in Mal's ear as Tobin unwraps a new skateboard from Ash. "I love you too Hero" she whispers back. Y/n presses a kiss to Mal's shoulder as she wraps her arms around the smaller girls waist. This had to have been the happiest moment of their life so far. Nothing could top this not even winning a World Cup. But what did you expect.

They both loved each other more than they love Christmas

Hey guys!!! First off Merry Christmas or happy holidays!!! (Whichever). I wrote this a few days ago in the build up to Christmas and I hoped you enjoyed it. Christmas has always been a special time for me so I hope this brought you a little joy whether you celebrate the holiday or not. Even though it's been quite strange this year I hope you enjoy the day and get to spend it with the people you love. Anyways I hope you enjoyed. Once again Merry Christmas and until next time, bye!!!

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #mallory pugh imagines #mallory pugh #mallory pugh imagine #Mallory pugh x reader #mal pugh imagine #mal pugh x reader #mal pugh imagines