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byunbaekby · 4 years

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Mythomaniac—childhood best friend!haechan x female reader.

summary: he’s your best friend, he’s always been. but sometimes you have to stop gazing through those rose colored lenses to see donghyuck for who he really is; a liar. warnings: recreational drug use, language, hyuck being an asshole maybe, depictions of a toxic relationship, peer pressure, happy ending? what’s that genres: childhood best friends to almost lovers (?), angst, fluff if you squint, coming of age word count: 10.5k author’s message: big thank you @yongiefilms and @gardenpebble for proofreading this and giving me the confidence to post this. this has been a work in progress for a long time, and i hope you all enjoy it! this story is inspired by the songs, “liar” by leon and “i swear i’ll never leave again” by keshi. i would recommend listening to these!

The first time Lee Donghyuck lies to you, you’re both eight years old and fighting over the playground swing.

It’s your turn, you argue, kicking the floor as tears well in your eyes. Recess is over in five minutes and you’ve been waiting for Juna to get off since it started! But then this random dark-haired boy suddenly shows up and is going to take it away from you.

“It’s my turn!” You screech again, on the edge of a temper tantrum.

Your shrill tone causes Donghyuck to wince, and being much more mannered than you, he sighs in defeat. “Fine, fine. I’ll push you. Tomorrow, you push me. Okay?”

Sniffling, you nod and make your way onto the swing. When you jump up and land your bottom on the seat, your toes barely brush the ground. You grasp tightly onto the swing, looking over your shoulder at the boy who’s disappeared behind you. “Not too hard, okay? Not too high.”

“I won’t push too hard.” You’re still unconvinced.

“Promise?”

His response comes out as smooth as honey. “Promise.” His hands are already on your back, pushing you forward ever so lightly. It’s okay at first, and a bright smile spreads across your lips as you register the breeze fanning across your face.

A boisterous laugh leaves your lips, like sparkling stars in the dark of the night. For a moment your small childish world is overrun by excitement and enjoyment; the only thing that exists in this moment is you and the swing. From the height you’re at you can almost see the whole playground.

Wait—the whole playground? Were you already up this high?

When you reach the highest peak of your pendulum you look down, and your eyes widen at the distance from the ground that you are. Your bright laugh now turns into a terrified shriek. “Too high! Too high! Let me down!”

Donghyuck is, at first, unaware of just how frightened you are, but when you start flailing around in fear, his eyes widen. It all happens so fast. You swing back and forth a few times but your limbs are flying around so impulsively in your moment of fear that the boy has to scoot away so he isn’t hit by your flailing figure. Then one more time, you’re at the highest point of the swing when your frightened flailing becomes too much and before either of you can register, you’re flying off the swing and freefalling toward the ground.

He’s afraid to look so he turns away, but your loud crying quickly turns him back to you as the recess bell rings, signaling the end of your playtime. When he sees you on the ground, his first instinct is to run away. But then he sees you grasping your leg and crying, crying, crying.

God, you sure do cry a lot.

“Are you… are you okay?” He asks, running to kneel beside you.

You shake your head furiously, still grasping onto your ankle which burns with pain. It’s the worst pain you’ve ever felt in all eight years of your life. Tears freely flow down the apples of your cheeks.

On the verge of panicking, Donghyuck tears your arm from where you’re grasping onto your leg in the moment of searing pain, and swings it over his shoulder. “Come on,” he says, as though encouraging not you, but himself. With the strength that a normal eight year old wouldn’t have, he stands and pulls you to your feet. Your eyes wince in pain as sharpness shoots up your right leg, but alongside Donghyuck, the two of you walk to the nurse’s office.

He had lied. He said he wouldn’t push you too hard. He promised.

Your parents had told you since you were a little kid, fibbing about whether or not you ate the last cookie in the cookie jar, that lying was bad. But that day, you find that maybe lying isn’t always bad.

Because Donghyuck’s lie brings you a new friend.

“Do you think things will change, Hyuck?”

Your sudden question causes him to open his eyes from where he lays in the grass. When he does, it’s as though the stars in the sky are reflected on his orbs. But no, that’s just your crush on your best friend making itself prevalent once again.

“Things change everyday, Y/N.” His answer leaves you unsatisfied, so you roll your eyes, laying back down beside him in the grass. The playground is only a few feet away, but who are you to play at the park? You’re thirteen years old, for God’s sake.

“I mean in high school. The first day of school is already next week, aren’t you worried?” You turn to him, eyebrows furrowing at his relaxed expression.

His chapped lips purse in mild consideration, before shrugging his t-shirt clad shoulders. Carefree Donghyuck and worrisome Y/N, that’s your dynamic.

“It’s just high school. Same people, different classes. Why are you worried?”

“It’s just—” You sigh, eyes staring up into the endless dark abyss of the sky. “Things change. People change. You’ve seen the teen movies! The childhood best friends go to high school, one of them is super smart and becomes a nerd, the other one goes and does drugs.”

All you get in response is a laugh. Donghyuck’s laughter is something you’ve become accustomed to over the years. He has the light, boisterous laughter where something is so absolutely funny that he can’t help but screech. There’s the mid-tier average laugh, which he often lets out around relatives to be polite, but it comes off a bit awkward. Finally, he has the low chuckle in his throat he does when he finds something amusing and almost pitiful—it’s almost always reserved for you.

“We can definitely tell which one of us is which,” he jokes, which causes you to turn and slap his chest lightly, playfully.

“Drugs are bad,” you respond gently, reeling back into your space on the grass. Hyuck doesn’t understand: he’s easygoing, an extrovert with a sunny disposition. He’ll have no problem making friends in high school. You, on the other hand, won’t have it so easy. You can’t lose your one and only best friend. Wrapping yourself in your hoodie, you sigh. Hyuck registers this pitiful sound and settles down a bit; he knows when you’re really upset about something.

Suddenly scooching closer to you on the grass, he speaks softly. “Listen.” You do. “Nothing is going to change. Not between us. Things will happen, we’ll meet people, but we’re best friends forever, okay?” Now he looks straight to you rather than the sky, and you stare back. There’s something in his eyes, determination clear as he speaks. “I promise there will come a day when we grow up and become old, that we’ll come back to this park and stargaze just like now. By then, we’ll be able to drive ourselves, and your mom won’t have to wait for us,” he says, nudging his head toward the curb where your mom sits in her car. This makes you laugh: it really is amusing, your mom waiting for the two of you. “So shut up and stop doubting.”

Hyuck knows your insecurity and that’s what makes him your best friend. Your only best friend in the whole world. Quietly you respond with a question, digging your hand out of your hoodie sweater paws. “You really promise?”

Easily does he intertwine his finger with yours before leaning back into his spot. “Do I ever break my promises?”

The answer is yes, because a month later it’s a Friday afternoon when Hyuck does just that—break his promise.

Your first month of high school wasn’t as bad as you had initially thought it would be, really. Your teachers seemed nice for the most part, and you had managed to make a friend. A real friend, other than Hyuck. His name is Mark, and you only meet him because he’s the TA for your biology class. He’s a year older and not completely comfortable speaking Korean yet, but you’ll take what you can get!

Sadly, you don’t have any classes with your best friend. You don’t even share the same lunch period, and it saddens you that you can’t pay witness to Hyuck laughing so hard to shoot carrot bits from his nose anymore. He made friends in his classes though, and tells you about them. Most of them are upperclassmen… it’s not a surprise that your outgoing friend would be so compatible with older kids. So, you don’t get to see him that often. But that’s what the time outside of school is spent for: your best friend.

The two of you are supposed to meet at the park like you normally do on Fridays. It’s not a long walk from your school, and you’re halfway there when your phone vibrates in your pocket. Fishing it out, your eyes focus on the message lit on the screen.

[ Hyuckie ] : Jaehyun hyung invited me to hang out with the guys at his house. Sorry! Next week, I promise.

You sigh.

It’s not the first time he’s rainchecked you for that group of rambunctious older boys. The first week of school, you were supposed to get ice cream when he suddenly pulled up with those guys in tow. Just last weekend, he had promised to take you roller skating for your birthday, only to cancel when you already had your shoes on.

It’s like he has no time for you anymore.

So with a bitter huff, you send a passive-aggressive response and turn on your heels, trudging the rest of the way home.

When the bell rings, you slip your airpods into your ears and put your hood on. Finally, the day is over. Sadly, it’s only Tuesday so you still have a ways to go before the weekend.

Music rings in your ears as you tread down the halls of your high school, hands tucked into your hoodie pocket. It’s quite hot outside, winter transforming into the buds of spring. Spring and the oncoming heat make it more difficult for you to limit your fashion to hoodies.

When you push open the front building doors, the heat hits you, but you immediately walk toward a little shaded area under a tree near the courtyard. It’s where you always wait for him after school.

As you make your way there, the group of boys leaning against the wall don’t fail to catch your attention. With their brightly coloured hair and dark shaded eyes, it’s hard to miss them.

You have to reject the urge to visibly scoff at their appearance—they don’t even go here anymore, having graduated years ago. Why do they still show up here and hang around like they own the place?

Even if they left the school a while back, they still have a vivid reputation at the school. Though you had never paid attention, there are a few you know. Taeyong, presumably the oldest with his bright red hair and clouded gaze. Johnny, who had quickly been recruited into this group of delinquents upon his transfer from Chicago. Among them are others who you don’t care at all about.

Though their gazes follow you as you walk directly across their line of sight, you ignore them and retreat to your spot. Flopping down, your bottom meets the grass and you lean your head back against the tree. Closing your eyes, music fills your ears as your eyes meet darkness. For a moment, it’s as though you can shut out the world and simply relish in your own company.

High school hasn’t changed you much, but the people around you have changed.

The moment passes soon enough, as you feel a light slap on your thigh causing you to open your eyes. Your gaze lands on the sight of your best friend, who plops down beside you. A gleeful smile spreads across your face as you take your airpod out.

“Mark,” you tsk. “You’re late.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes, though a smile rests on his face. “Mr. Moon wanted to talk to me about something.”

“What about?”

“Auditioning for the talent show.” You blink, your eyes widening a bit at his revelation. Mr. Moon runs the talent show every year; if Mark had caught his eye, there would be no doubt that he would get in, and maybe even win the show.

“Really? You should!”

“I don’t know,” he says, pursing his lips in thought. “Honestly I don’t think I’d be good enough.”

“Shut up, you will. Besides, it’s your last year, you’ll never know what could have been if you never try.” The thought sobers you a bit: because Mark is a year older than you, his senior year will soon be coming to an end. The idea of spending your final year without your best friend saddens you.

Speaking of what could have been, the same time that Mark shows up, someone else also makes an appearance.

Fleetingly your eyes flicker over the group in the corner. Lee Donghyuck joins the group, his purple hair falling over his eyes as he lets his backpack fall to the floor. You watch, lips pursed as Taeyong hands him a joint, then you turn away.

He doesn’t call himself Donghyuck anymore. Or Hyuck, or your best friend. He’s Haechan now.

“Hello, earth to Y/N,” Mark’s voice rings in your ear.

Shaking your head to rid your thoughts of what could have been, you look to your best friend. Black hair is more appropriate than purple, you decide then. “Hm?”

“I was telling you that I’m leaving, but you zoned out.” You know he has his job, shifting through vinyls at the record store, in twenty minutes. Slowly, you bob your head in a nod.

“Okay… Have fun at work.”

“I will. I work for the rest of the week but we’ll hang out this weekend, okay?” You nod in response. He’s been a bit busy recently, but you don’t worry too much about it. “Promise.”

Your smile must visibly falter a bit, even though you try not to let it show. Mark’s eyes immediately widen slightly—sometimes he forgets how you dislike promises. How they give you a sense of false hope, and how you’d rather not give them space in your heart to do so. “Sorry,” he sounds. He stands and places a hand on your shoulder with a gentle smile. “I’ll see you.”

Then he leaves, and you pop your music back into your ear. With a soft sigh you look out at the courtyard, at the students leaving and cars moving. Will there ever be anything more than this? You take in the sight: the students running across the yard to their friends, the school doors opening and closing, even the group of boys racketing in the corner of your vision.

Hyuck—or Haechan as he now calls himself, though you find the name to be dumb and pretentious—is the youngest of them all. It all started in freshman year, when he met them and the distance between the two of you grew. His promises had worn thin, and eventually the string of friendship between you ripped apart right before your eyes. You can’t say that you miss him.

Because you don’t miss Haechan, the replacement for the boy you once knew. You miss Hyuck.

Your best friend who snuck over to your house on his bike when you had gotten rejected by Huang Renjun. The person you could always trust to push you on the swings and know your limits.

But that’s not him anymore.

The thought puts a sour taste on your tongue so you turn your eyes away from the cloud surrounding them and close your eyes. You don’t need him anymore. All you need is the music in your ears and the warm sun soaking into your skin.

You’re not sure how many minutes pass, but suddenly the warmth disappears from your skin. Your eyes slide open and there he is, casting a shadow over you. The sun is gone, only cold filling your veins at the sight of the long-legged memory before you and the smell of weed filling your nose. You take your airpods out of your ears, sighing.

Your voice comes out harsher than you intend. “What do you want, Haechan?”

Your use of his name must catch him off guard. You’ve never called him that—even when you drifted apart, like lonely boats without anchors, you always called him Hyuck in your sweetest tone. Now all you reserve for him is indifference.

“Haechan?”

“That’s your name isn’t it?”

He blinks, eyes fluttering underneath his lavender fringes. “Oh—” Sheepishly, he nods. It’s unlike the normal persona he employs when walking around school. That Haechan is cocky, flirtatious. “It is.”

You’re not entirely sure what it is that ticks you off. Not him, but the memory of him. “I don’t want any weed, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Haechan has the nerve to scoff. “No, that’s not what I’m asking.” You raise your eyebrow at him; he had left you in the dust when he decided to become one with those drug-doing law-breaking fools, yet he has the audacity to stand in front of you now. He takes a deep breath, tucking his hands into the pockets of his dark ripped jeans, which definitely don’t fit the school dress code. “I want to ask if you want to hang out?”

“Hang out,” you repeat, eyebrow raised. You could almost scoff from how ridiculous it sounds.

“Yeah.” He nods. His eyes are big, almost sheepish, and for a second he looks like your old Donghyuck. Behind the chains, the hair dye, the eyeliner, and the weed scent, you wonder if he still is. “I promised you I’d take you skating, remember?”

“No, I don’t,” you lie curtly, rising to your feet. Skating, that was over three years ago. It’s upsetting, but something in the way he still remembers this broken promise pushes you to say your next words. “Fine.”

As though he hadn’t expected you to acquiesce so easily, he nods. “How about Saturday? I’ll pick you up at your house? You… you still live in the same place, right?” It’s both humorous and painful that he has to ask.

“Mhm.” You sling your backpack over your shoulder and stare at him. “6PM. Don’t be late. And leave the weed at home. You stink.”

With that, you turn on your heels and make your way home. Behind you, you can hear the group of rambunctious boys yelling, congratulating their youngest.

Saturday comes quicker than normal, and it’s nearing five when you’re still not dressed for your meeting with Haechan.

If it were four years ago, you would have thrown on a t-shirt and called it that. If you were hanging out with Mark, it would have been easy to just put on a hoodie and jeans. But something is different now.

Why are you nervous? You ask yourself as you stand before the mirror.

It’s not… a date, but something in you wants to dress up, to look nice. But why? You don’t own many fashionable items, and it’s not a date. You hold back a self-deprecating groan as you darken your lashes with mascara and slather some lip gloss over your lips. He doesn’t deserve it.

You had expected him to come to your door, but when Haechan pulls up to your house in his very own car, all he does is text you. You had deleted his number years ago. Had he kept your’s all this time? Is your contact name still the same?

Fluttering down the stairs in a pair of jeans and a nicer t-shirt, you have to stop to remind yourself not to get caught up in the moment. This isn’t a date.

“You drive now,” is your first comment as you slip into the passenger seat.

The air is dank, reminiscent of a clear weed smell but it’s masked, as though someone had tried to get rid of it. “You look nice,” he says.

All you say is, “Thanks,” then retire yourself to looking out the window. He drives you to the roller rink, the familiar streets sliding by. The ride is quiet, awkward. Four years ago, the two of you would have been chattering away.

By the time he pulls into the parking lot, you’re reconsidering why you even agreed to coming here with him. After he parks, you step out and walk ahead toward the entrance of the roller rink. He jogs to catch up with you, and it’s the first time you get a good look at his outfit.

He dons a blue flannel over a white t-shirt and blue skinny jeans. A chain hangs from his belt hook, and another by his neck. His hair is done up, unlike the purple fringe he wore over his eyes earlier in the week. The old Hyuck you knew was a fashion disaster.

“What’s up?” He asks, tucking his hands into his pockets again as the two of you fall into the line. You need something to do with your hands, and suddenly you regret attempting to dress nice; your hoodie was a lot more comfortable.

“Why did you bring me here?” You ask suddenly, turning to him.

“I told you,” Haechan responds. “I wanted to hang out. And I made a promise to you that I’d take you skating for your birthday, but I didn’t. I just want to lighten my conscience a bit.”

A laugh almost leaves your lips at this. His conscience?

“Does your conscience ignore the weed and loitering?”

“Loitering? When do I loiter?”

“No, not you.” You shake your head, correcting him. “Your friends. They don’t even go to school anymore, why are they always around? Waiting for you?”

He blinks, then shakes his head. “Taeyong and Doyoung hyung are helping Mr. Moon coordinate the talent show. They have meetings with him after school. Jaehyun hyung teaches a piano class after school and Johnny tags along.”

Somehow, his answers shock you. It’s hard to picture his “friends” helping out at the school. You don’t respond, and clearly he’s less happy than you to talk about his friends because he follows his words with, “Can we not talk about them? I wanted to catch up with you, not talk more about them.”

“Sorry,” you mumble half-heartedly as you approach the booth, grabbing your size in the roller skates. Then, you search for a spot to sit down and put them on. For a few moments before Haechan joins you with his own skates, you think to yourself, is he sincere? He keeps saying it, and you want to believe it. Does your old Hyuck, your best friend exist somewhere in there?

Haechan approaches you, his skates in hand. You’re focused on tying your own, but you manage to scoot over on the bench you’re in to make room for him to sit as well.

But he surprises you.

He kneels, placing his skates on the ground and before you know it, your fingers on the laces are replaced by his as he ties them into a tight knot. You look up to him, but all your eyes fall on is his face, tightened in focused concentration. “What are you…” You start.

When he finishes tying the last lace into a tight bow, he looks up to meet your eyes. “You should tie them tight. Your laces used to always fall out when we were younger.” Then the corner of his lip tips up into a smile, and you can swear your heart races.

It beats out of your chest and you’re suddenly vividly aware of the fact that his face is mere inches away from yours.

But as quickly as the realization hits you, the moment is over.

He pulls away, taking the seat next to you before putting on his own skates. When he finishes, he pulls you up by the hand to the skating area and you let him. Your legs are a little shaky, but he looks over to you with careful eyes. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”

It’s not a promise, but it feels like one. Maybe, you decide, it’s okay to let down your walls and be with him. After all, he was, once upon a time, your best friend.

As much as you want to pull away from him, your legs are sliding, about to give out. You grip onto his arm with both hands, trying to keep your balance, and his hearty laugh is heard in your ear. In the midst of his laugh and your attempt to stand straight, your hand slides down to grasp his instead.

By the time you realize this, you’re already sliding halfway across the rink with gentle hesitant laughs on your lips. This is the first time you’ve talked to Donghyuck in years, yet it feels, you realize as your gaze down at your connected hands, as if you’d never stopped.

A couple hours later when you’ve both had more pizza than your stomachs can hold and both your knees are starting to bruise from how you’ve slipped onto them, Donghyuck brings you somewhere else.

Despite the curtain of dark over the town, you know where he’s taken you the moment he pulls into the street.

When he parks and you slide your feet out of the car to meet the grass, you look around and take in the appearance of this old place which hasn’t felt your presence in years. Your old park. Everything still looks the same, as if your late night stargazing sessions had never halted.

You’re still gazing when Donghyuck pulls you by the hand to the playground. “Come on,” he ushers.

“Hyuck, aren’t you a little old for the playground?” You question, not recognizing your slip.

He stops walking altogether and blinks at you, the light of the moon reflecting off his sparkling orbs. “You… You called me Hyuck.”

You hadn’t even noticed it yourself. Pursing your lips, you respond carefully. “Well… it is your name, isn’t it?” Somehow, your gaze finds your interlaced hands. By the time you look back up, you realize Donghyuck was also staring.

A soft smile graces the tips of his lips. “Yeah, it is.”

For a moment, a short moment, Haechan is forgotten. All that exists at the park with you is Donghyuck, your best friend since age eight when he had pushed you too hard on the swings and caused you to fracture your ankle. You had always blamed it on him in the following years, but it was never his fault.

It was always yours, for not being brave enough.

Even now, Hyuck pushes you on the swings after you give him a pointed look which clearly says, “Not too hard.” The force of his push reminds you how big of a role adrenaline once played in your life. Hyuck was your daily dose of adrenaline, of energy you never knew was missing from your life until it was gone. Now, he’s back again.

After a few minutes, the two of you find yourself lying on the grass gazing up at the stars, in a similar situation that your younger selves once experienced. You’re content to sit there staring at the glistening firmament above, but his velvet voice fills the silence between you.

“Is Mark a good best friend?”

His question catches you off guard. It could be a trick of your mind but is that… jealousy you hear in his tone? “Yeah, he is.” You nod, the cold breeze brushing your face. “He’s nice. Understanding… I’m just not looking forward to having to spend the next year without him after he graduates.”

“You don’t have to,” Hyuck replies quickly. You turn to meet his gaze, and find that he’s gazing at you with serious eyes. “You can spend it with me.”

The thought, however hopeful, causes a twinge of doubt to ignite within you. “What about the others?”

“What about them?”

“Are they good best friends?”

Like you, Hyuck takes a long moment to ponder over his answer. “They’re not my best friends,” he finally says when he comes to a conclusion. “They were always just placeholders. Just… people to spend time with.”

“Spend time as in vandalizing, smoking weed, and skipping school?”

He releases a scoff at your response, as though the idea sounded absurd to him as well. “Well… yeah. I guess that’s what it seems like.” You’ve never been the type to do those kinds of things, always too afraid of losing your self control for even a moment, so you ask: “What’s it like? Smoking weed?”

Your inquiry seems to throw him for a loop. You had always been quiet, comfortable living in a box which you knew to be safe. It was always him who had wanted to explore. He turns away from you and instead throws his gaze to the dark sky, though you remain watching him and the way the grass brushes his side profile from where he lays.

“It’s like… searching for something. You don’t quite know what you’re looking for. I don’t know—Nirvana, epiphanies, the meaning of life, or whatever. And for a second,” he pauses, his eyes matching the twinkle of the stars in the sky, but it’s a somber reflection. “When you reach that high, it’s… it’s amazing. It really is. You feel… calm. And relaxed, a bunch of things I’ve never felt before. But when you get used to it, and you come down from that high… it just feels… empty.”

Emptiness isn’t something you’d ever think Hyuck has experienced. In your memories he was always so bright-eyed and lighthearted, filling you up with everything you needed. Had you forgotten how to fill him up? Make him happy? Or, your hopeful heart suddenly asks, are you the emptiness in his heart? When he left you, was that when his heart had begun to feel hollow, as yours had? When had things changed so much, when had the two of you grown up? It seems just like yesterday that you were two little kids with hopes bigger than the world could hold, still playing on the playground.

Suddenly you lurch toward him, closing the space between you to lay shoulder to shoulder. The simple brush of your shoulder on his, a feeling that was once so familiar, speaks volumes to the both of you. “I wish things could go back to the way they were before.”

He sighs, a sound that’s supposed to somehow indicate that your words are easier said than done. “If only life was that easy.”

A thoughtful moment of silence passes over the two of you, the cold night air brushing on your bare arms. Your hoodies often kept you warm, but you don’t have them now. Instead, you have Donghyuck. “Are you cold?” He asks as he notices you shivering at a sudden strong gust of wind. You shake your head, not wanting him to give his flannel to you, but he does something else instead. “C’mere,” is all he says as he scoops you into his arms on the ground and presses your head into his chest.

You start to argue at first but you soon find yourself resting your head on the expanse of his chest. Eyes widened ever so slightly as you try to maintain the erratic beat of your heart, you whine quietly, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“We used to do this all the time.”

“Yeah,” you scoff gently with a roll of your eyes. “When we were ten and forgot our jackets.”

“Not much difference,” Hyuck responds. Suddenly a teasing tone occupies his voice, almost reminiscent of Haechan’s persona. “Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

You have the decency to be shocked, hitting his chest softly, playfully. “As if.”

He says things aren’t much different, but they are. Back then, things were simpler and easier. Your best friend was just your best friend. But now, seven years later, he’s a boy and an attractive one—that much you can admit. And, you have a history that makes your heart wrench; you had come to terms with the fact that you would no longer be able to envelope yourself in Hyuck’s bear hugs anymore, that sleepovers with him would be further nonexistent.

Hyuck doesn’t say anything after your hasty response, and it seems like he’s satisfied sitting in the silence with you, but you aren’t. Gently you speak up, “Hyuck.”

“Hmm,” he responds, eyes closed rather than gazing at the star-stricken sky.

“What’s your dream?”

He takes a moment to think about it. A couple seconds pass with his eyes still closed, and you turn your head to gaze up at his contemplative expression with tufts of dark grass tickling his ears. A couple minutes pass like this.

You’re almost convinced he’s fallen asleep right there, so you prod once again. “So?”

Hyuck takes a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? Everyone has a dream,” your brows furrow.

The next words to leave your best friend’s mouth sadden you to no end. His voice is soft but his tone is tired, as if he has all but given up. “I think somewhere along the line I stopped dreaming, wishing for things. It’s not the reality I’ve grown to know.”

By the end of the night, when the two of you arrive at your home, you’re starting to believe that a reconciliation with your best friend is possible. All these years, they were just… a break. A time for the two of you to learn yourselves and meet new people.

As he walks you to your front door, swinging your interlaced pinkies between the two of you, you speak first. The night, however sudden and strange, was nice. “I had fun.”

“Me too,” he quickly replies as he turns to face you though he doesn’t let go of your hand, your pinkies hooked around each other like a little unsaid pledge.

“I really missed you,” you confess. Before tonight you had never allowed yourself to consider how much you missed your best friend, how his absence left a gap in your life. “I want to do it again sometime.”

Hyuck’s eyes widen just a bit, and he blinks as though surprised. “You do?”

Giddily you bite down on your lower lip and nod. “I really do.”

His shocked eyes soften like sweet yellow honey, and he mirrors your smile. Here with the front porch light shining on his tanned skin and some lingering grass strands tangled in his hair, he doesn’t look like the cruel Haechan you’ve seen over your time in high school. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Why are you saying thank you?” you ask, a slight smile on your lips. “It should be me saying thank you.”

“I’m just glad you came along,” he explains, tapping his foot gently against the cement. “Taeyong would have gotten me in trouble if I hadn’t asked you to come.”

You blink. What?

“I’m just really glad you agreed to go out with me today. Even though I had no choice, I think it was really good for us, and I’d love to do it a—”

“Hyuck.”

He stops suddenly, having begun to ramble, and stares at you. “What?”

Anxiety begins to creep into your stomach, building a dark heavy pit. As your breath quickens, coming to your realization, you fall into the dark abyss of that hole. You tear your gaze away from him, your eyebrows forming a tight line as the gears in your head turn.

As he recognizes the way your chest starts to rise and fall rapidly, Hyuck leans toward you. “Y/N, are you—”

“What do you mean, you had no choice?”

“You’re shaking, you should go inside—”

You tear your hand from his, trying your best to control your accelerated breathing. Finally looking back at him, you feel despair begin to bubble inside you. “What the hell do you mean, you had no choice, Donghyuck?”

The look on his face is almost dumbstruck. He opens his mouth but no words come out. He closes it quickly, then parts his lips again after a moment. “I… I thought you knew…”

“Knew what?”

“That Taeyong hyung made me do it.”

If it’s possible for your entire world to crash in the fraction of a moment, it must be this. Suddenly your lungs feel heavy with burden and your eyes water, watching your ill-fated hope shatter before you. You want to scream at him, to yell at him, but you can’t find your voice. By your side, your hand which was once occupied by his, feels awfully, horribly cold.

Hyuck, on the other hand, still looks stupefied that you had no idea. Stuttering over his words, uncharacteristic of him, he continues desperately. “I-I… They know about us, about our friendship, and Taeyong hyung told me to ask you on a date or…or he’d make me deliver his next package. I already got caught once, I couldn’t get caught again! I couldn’t risk it,” he pleads.

Weed. That’s what this is all about.

“It was just for fun, they thought it was funny.”

Your throat feels dry, parched like the desert, and your voice feels like sandpaper as you speak. “I didn’t think it was funny.” A lonesome tear breaks the barrier, sliding down your cheek pitifully before being followed by another.

Clearly startled by the course of the conversation, he desperately reaches out to grab your hand. “Y/N, please let me explain—”

You whip your hand back, his touch making your skin crawl with betrayal.

“You’ve done enough.”

Of all the things he could say, he says the worst. “I thought you heard everything that day, in the courtyard.”

“I…” You start thinking back foggily. “I had my airpods on.” The pained look he wears at his realization of this would have been laughable if your tears weren’t threatening to flow down your cheeks.

All you want to do is run. Run inside, run away from him, run from this night and pretend that nothing had ever happened. But for some reason, your feet are stuck to the cement as though something holds you down. Burden-like weights, holding you down.

“I, I’m sorry,” he beseeches, only making it worse. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You want to yell at him, to curse him into the next life for playing with you. For not knowing your character enough to think that for even a second, you’d be okay being a pawn in his game of dealing and dares. For giving you hope, even the slightest burning sliver. But you can’t raise your voice at him. Rather than fury, it’s sadness which erupts in your chest. You cannot find it in yourself to scream. Because he did, he did hurt you.

This must be the emptiness he was talking about.

Any sense of blankness you thought you knew before was nothing to this. As if your heart and mind itself have been ripped out of you, you’re overcome by a horrible, horrible hollowness. Then, looking at his pitiful figure, you realize that you want nothing to do with Lee Donghyuck any longer. Whoever he is, good or bad, best friend or stranger, Haechan or Hyuck, he is no longer important to you.

Wiping your tears against the back of your hand with an indignant sniffle, you scowl at him, but there is no anger, no resentment. Just exhaustion. You’re tired of his lies.

“Leave me alone, Haechan. Leave me alone, and don’t ever bother me again. I can’t believe I—” You stop yourself. You can’t believe you had believed, even for the shortest moment, that things would be okay. No, not with him, nothing would ever be okay. Nothing would ever be true, nothing would ever be pure. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how close you were to falling into him.

All you do is stare once more at his cowardly figure then turn away, hiding your tears which you refuse to let him see. Just as you’re about to turn to disappear into your house however, he reaches for your wrist.

“Y/N, please—”

“Don’t,” you say softly. If he truly is your best friend, if he had ever known you for even a second, he would be able to recognize the pain in your voice, the fragility with which you’re about to break.

But if he was ever your best friend, by now you can never truly know.

For a third and final time, you tug your hand from his touch. “Don’t. I mean it.”

Then you disappear into your home, flying up the stairs to the confusion of your parents, and leave Donghyuck there alone, stranded and in the dark.

There was a reason why you never liked parties growing up, and why you tried avoiding them at all cost, but today is different. Today is for Mark, you have to suck it up and enjoy yourself at least for him. Besides, since hitting twenty three you’ve been trying to “adult” more, and that means putting other people’s desires before your own.

You’re sitting on a couch in the bar, clutching a water bottle when you hear Mark’s voice in your ear. “Hey, you made it!”

Immediately you turn and feel your lips spread into a wide smile at the sight of your best friend looking completely ecstatic. Standing quickly, you collapse into his open arms. He pulls you tightly into a hug and you smile feeling his familiar embrace.

“Hey, you,” you say when you pull away. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you, really.”

The beaming smile he wears back at you makes your heart warm. “Thanks, and thanks for coming! I thought you weren’t sure you were going to make it.”

“I cleared my schedule for you,” you admit cheekily.

“Aw, I must be so special,” responds Mark playfully, pulling you in for another quick hug. Mark has just been signed onto a record company as a producer. It’s only his biggest dream ever, and you couldn’t be prouder. His record label had insisted on throwing a party to welcome their newest hire, and from the smile on his face, it seemed like all his dreams had come true.

“But enough about me, how are you?”

With your busy post-college schedule, you’ve had little time to meet your best friend. “Just the usual. Work, eat, sleep.”

“Hey, at least you sleep, I’m up all night, every night working on music.”

“I believe that was your career choice,” you laugh and roll your eyes.

Mark laughs along with you. “I guess you’re right.” He suddenly eyes the water bottle in your hand. “Don’t tell me you’re not drinking at my party.”

“I—”

“No excuses! It’s a Saturday night, don’t say you have work tomorrow.”

“But—”

“Sounds like an excuse, you better go to the bar right now and get a drink.”

“I’m—”

“Now!”

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” You finally acquiesce, rolling your eyes at your friend’s behavior. “Do you want me to grab you something?”

He ponders it momentarily, sitting down in the spot on the couch you occupied earlier. “Just one of what you’re getting,” he says, already making conversation with the other person on the couch, one of his new coworkers.

You make your way over to the bar counter, basically shoving past the numerous people occupying the bar. With the prestige of the company that Mark has just been hired into, you wouldn’t be surprised if you were brushing shoulders with celebrities in your search for the bar.

When you finally find a spot at the crowded counter, you attempt to speak over the music to one of the two bartenders maintaining the counter. Flashing your ID at him, you sound, “Two Negronis, one with light ice!” You’re in the mood for gin tonight. You would have gotten your typical gin on the rocks, but you’re feeling a bit fancy and with the open bar, you’re fine not paying for the extra pizazz of a Negroni.

The one you originally speak to seems occupied but he hears you, nodding at you. As you pull out your phone to wait for your order, you register him calling out to someone, likely the other bartender with him. “Take care of that,” he says, likely referring to your order.

Only a few moments pass of you attempting to type out a text until you hear it.

Though it’s not loud, you hear it. Above the music, above the crowd.

“Y/N?”

Eyes leaving your phone screen, you find yourself face to face, eye to eye, with Lee Donghyuck himself. In front of you on the other side of the bar counter, clad in a dark apron and clutching a tall bottle of gin, with his light brain hair, tendrils falling over his eyes, it’s almost like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him. Your gaze hasn’t fallen on him in years, not since graduation, watching him walk across the stage. Your jaw visibly tightens.

“Y/N, is that really you?”

“Who else would it be,” you joke tightly, deciding momentarily to play nice for now.

The laugh he shares is almost believable. “Wow, I can’t believe it’s you. It’s been…”

“Five years,” you finish for him.

Astounded, all he does is nod. “Yeah…”

The last thing you want to do is sit here and take part in a tired conversation with Donghyuck of all people, so you make a show of pointing your attention to your phone as you type a couple text messages. He seems to get the hint, and busies himself making your drinks.

Despite the buzzing bar environment around the two of you, there’s no doubt of the tension in the air. The last time you had spoken to Donghyuck, you had demanded that he leave you alone. For the most part, he had complied. But now, five years later, you have to ask yourself, have you forgiven him?

In the past years since your final falling out you’ve somehow learned to manage the emptiness that sprung inside you, yet now seeing him, you feel something other than hollowness, a swallow feeling in your chest. Are you… ready?

Within minutes he slides two glasses across the counter to you, red liquid occupying its volume. As you tuck your phone away into your purse and reach out to grab your two drinks, it’s clear to you that he has something more to say from the way his eyes linger on the glasses.

“What?” You ask.

“Are you…” He starts, eyebrows furrowing as he suddenly pauses, as though thinking over his words. “You got two glasses. Are you… here with someone?”

He’s curious if you’ve found someone. If you’ve brought them here and if they’ve managed to replace the empty space in your heart once occupied by him. You purse your lips, offering a tight smile as you shake your head. “No, one of these is for Mark.”

You’re unsure if the look on his face at your answer is a relieved one, but you’re sure it won’t bring about good things. “Oh,” he says. “That’s… interesting.” What is that supposed to mean? You have no idea, but when you’re about to turn and make your way back to your friend who is surely waiting for you, he speaks up again. “I have my break in thirty minutes. Can we… talk maybe?”

Talk. He wants to talk, but at this point you’ve learned that accepting any offer from Donghyuck will only lead to trouble. What is there to talk about? Will he apologize? You’ve already told him that you don’t want his apologies. Will he try to fix things? Regardless you’re sure that whatever it is, he will attempt to make his way back into your life, your life that you had worked so hard to create without him.

Every atom, every part of you screams at you to reject him.

But perhaps it’s the heavy feeling in your chest that tells you to say yes. You have unsaid words, words you have held within you for years, and now you might finally have the courage to say them.

Cautiously, you nod. “Fine. Thirty minutes?”

He’s visibly relieved at your easy agreement, and bobs his head in response. “Thirty minutes.”

Because you’re made uncomfortable by his gaze you feel the need to thank him for the drinks in your hands. With a slight gulp you hold the glasses up in a slight gesture. “Thank you for the drinks… Haechan.” His name feels foreign on your tongue.

“Oh, it’s just Donghyuck now. I stopped going by that name a long time ago.”

Over the following thirty minutes, barely sipping on your drink, you try to recollect all you’ve ever felt about Lee Donghyuck.

Once upon a time, he was your playground buddy. Pushing you on the swing high above the play area, he showed you the most thrill an eight year old could have. His excitement did lead to your broken ankle of course, but he had carried your backpack for eight weeks after that.

For many years he was the person you considered to be your best friend. The only person you could trust to share secrets with, like how your first kiss was with Huang Renjun of all people and how you were still, after all these years, afraid of the heights that came along with flying high on the swings.

In high school he was almost an enemy to you, someone you disregarded. Someone you had no respect for, with his smoking habits and dyed neon purple hair.

Then, for the shortest moment so fleeting it felt like a blink of an eye, he was someone you wanted. Someone you desired, someone you could have seen a future with not as a best friend but as a… partner. Laying there in the wet grass beneath the stars with your head on his chest and his voice in your ears, you could have accepted him. Could have forgiven all the distance between you and made it work. Could have become one again.

Then in the moment of truth all you could remember was anger and the pain of the betrayal. At that moment you were set on cutting Donghyuck out of your life. You could no longer take his lies, his habit of coming and going as he pleased. You cut him off.

But that didn’t mean he no longer occupied your thoughts.

Now, standing in front of him in a private room somewhere in the bar, you realize you no longer have anger for him. He is just someone who has hurt you, someone who is part of your past. From the way he gazes at you, he wants you in his future.

You’ve long since graduated from your hoodies and leggings. Now you don a dress, comfortable but also dressy enough for the occasion. But just because you’ve grown doesn’t mean you want him to watch you the way he does.

“You look nice,” he starts. Familiarity rings in your mind, and you purse your lips slightly.

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s true,” retorts Donghyuck quickly.

“Sometimes it’d be nice to hear a compliment not involving my appearance from you,” you respond almost a bit too harshly.

Taking the loud hint, he quiets and doesn’t continue the topic. Instead he asks, “How are you?”

Unable to control the lilted chuckle that leaves your lips, you raise an eyebrow at him. “That’s what you brought me here for?” There’s no hostility in your tone, yet he winces.

“Well, uh… yeah. I just—we haven’t talked since—”

“Since you broke my heart?”

This seems to be news to him, because his eyes widen ever so slightly, outlined slightly in dark kohl that seems reminiscent of your high school days. “I broke your heart?”

He didn’t know. It’s almost laughable and you could almost be upset at him for not knowing just how strong of an effect he’s had on your entire life, if not for the fact that he looks absolutely pitiful, staring with wide eyes at the damage he’s done. You gulp, and nod tightly. “Yeah, you did.” After a moment, you add, “Tore it to pieces.”

A timeline of silence persists, before he speaks, voice low. “I’m sorry.”

He even sounds it, and from the way he looks, still clad in his apron and standing straight in front of you whilst you’re leaning on the wall, you could believe it. But at this point you’ve learned better than to believe anything that comes out of his mouth. Has he matured? Perhaps, but something tells you that he’s still the same kid you’ve known since the time before you could do long division.

Yet despite this, perhaps to settle the disruptive fire in your heart that has been burning, aching since the moment you turned your back on him, you nod. “I forgive you.”

Still, you continue with a scoff. “You didn’t even know. Didn’t even know that every single relationship, every promise, every smile from anyone since I’ve met you, I’ve had to reconsider. You didn’t even know, probably still don’t, how hard it is to trust someone, anyone. You were my best friend, Hyuck, and you betrayed me. How was that supposed to make me feel? Especially when you didn’t even come find me after that? You just… expected to just get away with it? You thought it’d be easy to just leave and never say anything, never apologize?”

He simply stands there, eyes trained to the ground in what seems to be shame as he takes in your words. You’re not done.

“And to think, I almost thought that things could go back to normal, that we could be friends again. Maybe…” You catch yourself on your words. You had never admitted them out loud. “Maybe even—even…”

His eyes move up to meet yours.

“Maybe even more,” you finally release in a breath.

“More?” The familiar emotion of surprise flashes over his dark ochre stained eyes. “You… you wanted to be with me?”

The truth is, yes. You did. In some way, perhaps you still do. You’ve always wanted him, you’ve always been ready to freefall into him at any moment. But he doesn’t deserve it.

“I really wanted to. But clearly that’s not possible at this point.”

“No—” He runs a ring adorned hand through his dark locks, a contrast from the neon purple you associated with him. Other things you associate with him—sadness, betrayal, lies, yet still stars in a night sky. “Y/N, I… I love you. I’ve always loved you. I meant it when I said you were my only best friend, you’re the only one. Not Taeyong, or Johnny, or Jaehyun, or anyone. It’s always been you.”

He… loved you.

It hits you like a truck because as much as he claims it, he has a horrible way of showing it. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying, fuck—I swear. I know I was a horrible friend, and I know I hurt you. Y/N, please, please listen to me. Please believe me.” Suddenly he’s grasping at your hands, beseeching you with pleading eyes. “I’m different, I promise. I’m not that old me, I’m better. I can be better.”

You rip your hands from his grasp.

“I said don’t lie to me! I told you to stop making promises you can’t keep. You’re doing it again, just like always did. You had your chance, and you lost it. You lost me, Hyuck, it’s over.” He stares at you with widened eyes at your sudden outburst, his brows and lips downturned in an expression of sadness. “I was always willing to make things better, I was ready to take you back the moment you stepped in front of me that day at school and forced me to go on a date with you. I never stopped loving you, and you never stopped being my favorite person, Hyuck. But this—” you say, gesturing to the two of you. “—was doomed from the start.”

You sigh, but this time you calm yourself with a breath and grab at his hands, though you had pulled away from him earlier. “It could have been, you and me. We could have been the perfect trope of childhood best friends who fall in love and spend the rest of their lives together, but that was clearly always out of the question for us. And it’s okay, Hyuck. It’s okay. It’s okay that we’ve grown apart, and that you’ve hurt me more times than I can count, and that we won’t be able to fulfill that fantasy. It’s okay, it really is. Please, just… accept it.”

The way he stares at you, the passion that he holds in his eyes causes a yearning feeling to infiltrate your heart. Yet your mind is clear enough for you to discern it’s not him that you miss, it’s the simpler times with him that you long for.

His eyes are pleading when he finally opens his mouth to respond. “You’ve called me Hyuck four times now. That leads me to think that it’s possible. We’re possible, Y/N…”

“I called you that because it’s your name,” you tell him softly, eyes moving down to where your hands are comfortingly rubbing small circles on his skin. He still has the most rough, callused hands you’ve ever felt in your life. “And because I’m going to choose to remember you as Hyuck, my best friend. Not Donghyuck, the kid who pushed me off the swings. Not Haechan, the boy who hurt me. Just Hyuck, my best friend who… made me happy for a really long time, and who will always,” you say with a slight squeeze to his hands. “Always be special to me.”

His eyes are soft as you look back up to find him. “Y/N…”

“I’ve got to go,” you tell him with a small smile. Finally, everything you’ve needed to say for years has been said.

The tears which layer upon his eyes are evident to the both of you, though you choose not to comment on it. You’re his best friend, and you’re about to walk out of his life. The last thing you offer is a comforting squeeze to his hands before you tear away from him, making your way to the door.

“Y/N.”

You stop, not saying anything before his voice pervades through the silence of the room, despite the raucous party outside. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

This time, you really believe him.

You slide the key into the keyhole and unlock the door, twisting the doorknob as you step into your apartment. To no surprise, it’s dark and empty. With a sigh leaving your throat, you slip in and slide off your shoes.

As you make your way through the apartment you flick on the lights you pass to observe your home, before clicking them off to immerse yourself in the temporary darkness again. In the hallway, books and various clutter have been arranged carefully on the shelves. Entering the living room, you take note of the way the couch cushions have been straightened and a folded blanket rests neatly on one of the lounge chairs, awaiting your arrival. A quick glance to the kitchen tells you that the floor’s been mopped and the dishes put away.

A small smile pervades across your face.

Finally, the bedroom.

Your calm, harmonious smile remains present on your face as you slip into the walk in closet, allowing the fabric of your dress to slide off your figure. Instead, you reach for your pajama bottoms and a thin tank top.

After brushing your teeth and clearing your visage of any remaining makeup, you peel off the blanket and glide into the space between the comforter and the mattress. Finally, you’re home.

You’re closing your eyes, ready to fall asleep with a newfound peace, when a hand slides around your waist. Your smile grows wider as you turn in your spot to meet the sleepy face of your fiance, Jaemin.

“Hey,” he hums tiredly.

“Hey. Sorry for waking you,” you respond lightly, pressing a kiss to his nose.

A small shake of his head and a smile is all that’s needed to settle your guilt of waking him. “It’s okay,” he says while pulling you closer to him, gathering you into his chest.

“You cleaned the apartment,” you muse in amazement at him.

The sound which comes out of him is both smug and proud. “I did. And did you have fun?”

You nod. “I did.”

“How was it?”

“It was nice. I… I met Donghyuck.”

This piques his interest. “Oh? Your best friend from high school who broke your heart?”

A pitiful laugh leaves your chest, and you nod once more. “Yeah, that one.”

“Mm, how was that? Do I need to go punch someone, teach him a lesson?” His words intend to sound menacing, but the fatigue in his tone only makes you chuckle.

“No, honey, it’s okay really. I… I told him how I feel.”

“How’d he take it?” He asks, resting his chin upon the crown of your head. He’s more than knowledgeable about your heart wrenching past toward your friend.

“It was difficult for the both of us but I think everything’s okay. Finally.”

You don’t have to look, but you know he’s smiling.

Where Hyuck is a dark night sky of stars, signifying all the possibilities of the universe, Jaemin is the dawn; the sun reappearing after an arduous night to bring you hope. Where Hyuck is a world of lies, Jaemin is your truth.

He had struggled for many years to make you see, to make you forget the scars that your time with Hyuck had inflicted on your heart. Though you had worried for many years that you were unlovable, Jaemin taught you the opposite.

He is the truth, he is all that’s good, and he is yours.

“Yeah, finally. I’m proud of you, honey. Can we sleep now?”

A laugh leaves your lips, and you nod. “Yeah, go back to sleep, love. Goodnight.” With this, he presses a kiss to your forehead. This small touch, the slightest brush of his lips over your skin, causes a world of love and emotion to erupt within your chest.

So, you say proudly, “I love you.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, replying within a second. “I love you too, with everything I am.”

With your entire heart, you believe him. You have no reason to doubt him.

He is your last and final truth.

984 notes · View notes

berrynarrybanana · 3 years

Text

Holiday Wishes, Mistletoe Kisses

A/N: This was meant to be a blurb, but I got carried away. I honestly don’t know how I feel about it, but I wanted to post some Christmassy stuff in between now and Deck the Halls, so here’s a little something. It’s basically over a thousand words of Harry pining for some girl he just met. That seems to be my favorite trope, yeah? Anyways, I hope you enjoy and I hope that you all remember that Christmas isn’t about what you have or what you’re able to give, it’s about spending time with the people you love the most. I’m always here for you all if you need me and I love you loads. Thank you!

Word Count: 5.1K+

Warnings: A little smut, pining, flash forward, ofc

Prompt: “You’re wearing the Santa hat, whether you like it or not” | Taken from this post here!

It wasn’t that Harry hated Christmas.

He loved spending time with his family, drinking mulled wine and talking shit with his Mum and Sister on the couch until the morning light. He loved the Christmas cookies that everyone seemed to bake just for him. Every single one of his friends would wrap them up in cute, candy cane striped cellophane bags with a little bow as if they were worried he’d been deprived of sweets. He loved the warmth that enveloped him when he stepped into any building, dodging the cold winter winds and brutal snowflakes that hit his skin. He loved most things about the season, but he truthfully hated the actual holiday itself.

He hated the music, each song covered by about twenty different artists, (yet, they always sounded the same, somehow), playing on a loop on every single Christmas station. He hated how rude people were in the shops and on the road, as if their time was more important than anyone else's. He hated the stigma around giving expensive gifts, stressing over the perfect thing to get each of his friends. If he could, he’d give them all something homemade, but he was shit at doing anything crafty.

His boots crunched against the snow as he walked towards his mother’s front door.

He let himself in, kicking his shoes off before he removed his scarf and his winter coat. He could hear laughter from the kitchen, Gemma and his Mum giggling far too loud. They must have cracked into the mulled cider a little early, and truthfully, he was jealous. He’d spent the last four hours stuck in traffic listening to white Christmas over and over and over again. He shut the front door as Evie wrapped herself around his legs, her soft purring catching his attention as he glanced down at the black and white kitten.

“Hiya, darling girl.” He crouched down, scooping her into his arms before he delivered a series of kisses over her head. “Daddy’s missed you, eh. Have you been good for your nan?”

She meowed in response, causing Harry to coo at her before he scratched under her chin.

“That’s my girl.” He pressed another kiss to the top of her head before setting her back to the ground.

He knew they would indulge in several cuddle sessions over the next few days, so he wasn’t worried about missing his one and only pet this holiday season. He walked through the house, finding his way into the kitchen where Gemma was tipping back a glass of dark red liquid, and his Mum was rolling out cookie dough with a bright smile on her face. What Harry wasn’t expecting, was the curly haired girl with a cookie cutter in her hand next to his Mum.

“Hello!” He called out, offering a smile as he walked over to the kitchen island. “I see we’ve started having fun already.”

“It took you forever to get here!” Gemma said defensively, picking up a chocolate kiss before tossing it at Harry. “Do you want a drink?”

“Something hot, it’s like the bloody tundra outside.” He shivered at the thought of the harsh wind, his eyes trailing back towards the new girl.

“Stella makes the best peppermint hot chocolate you’ve ever had in your life.” Gemma groaned out, her eyes rolling back in her head. “She puts peppermint vodka in there.”

“I can make you one if you’d like?” Stella’s voice was soft and painfully american. “We’ve got a slow cooker full of hot chocolate.”

“If you don’t mind.” Harry gave her a smile as he pulled out a stool, sitting next to Gemma. “Nice to meet you, Stella. I’m Harry, by the way.”

“She knows who you are.” Gemma reached over, pinching Harry’s side. “Stella is a new transfer at work. She’s new to England, and we thought we’d show her a proper English Christmas.”

“Stella, love, you should probably find another family to spend Christmas with if you want a proper English Christmas.” Harry snorted. “Ours is half arsed at best.”

“We have a lovely Christmas, thank you.” Anne piped up, flicking flour in Harry’s direction as Stella laughed softly. “Don’t scare the poor thing off, we’ve just made her feel at home.”

Stella turned her back, walking towards the stove.

“I suppose we do have a good time.” Harry hummed out. “I can’t wait to watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas for the millionth time.”

“They’ve got an animated one now!” Gemma exclaimed. “We’re going to do a double feature.”

“Lovely.” Harry rolled his eyes.

Moments later, a steaming mug of hot chocolate laced was placed in front of Harry.

He looked down at the grinch mug before looking back up at Stella.

“Thanks.” He offered her a smile, but she merely nodded back at him before taking her place next to Anne again.

He watched her, sipping at his drink as Gemma and Anne chatted about some Hallmark movie that was meant to premiere at some point during the week. She wasn’t normally the type of girl that he dated, but he had to admit that she was beautiful. Her cheeks were round, a soft blush smeared over them that he assumed came from a makeup product. Her lashes were thick, and long, shadowing her hazel colored eyes. She had thick brows that seemed a little unruly, and plump lips stained with a plum colored lipstick that matched her smoky, purple eyeshadow. He wasn’t a huge fan of the plum color, but he had to admit that it brought out a lot of the warmer tones in her eyes and in her beautiful, brown skin. He also thought that it complimented the lighter strands in her curly brown hair that bounced about everytime she turned her head.

He tried not to be too obvious with his curious gaze, but he couldn’t help it. He was almost mesmerized by her beauty, but he was more so confused by his attraction to her. She was far too quiet for his taste, her eyes cast down on the cookies she’d been cutting out for the last few minutes while everyone else chatted.

He watched her place them on the tray carefully, obsessing over how they landed before she reached for the colored icing. He watched her pipe onto the little shapes, her tongue nestling in the corner of her mouth as her unsteady hands worked diligently on the cookies.

This was a Styles family Christmas, and the Styles were a rowdy and messy bunch. He’d never seen his Mum or Gemma put that much work into sugar cookies before, and it was almost painful to watch her perfect each and every one before she slipped the tray in the oven. He watched her reach for the cheeky little chicken shaped oven timer that Gemma bought when his Mum fist moved into this house. In all of those years, he’d never seen anyone actually use it.

“Did you hear me, my little turtle dove?” Anne brushed her hand over Harry’s back as he sipped at his cocoa. “They’re calling for a huge storm this weekend, are you packed for that?”

“I left some stuff here the last time I was around.” He turned his head, smiling back at her. “I think I should be fine if I get stuck with you lot.”

“Good.” She nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too, Mumma.” He wrapped an arm around her back, pulling her into a hug.

The warm scent of vanilla and musk greeted his senses, flooding him with comfort and nostalgic memories of cuddling with Mum on the couch. He missed having her around him. He missed having his best friend around to comfort him when he needed it the most. When he let go of her, his heart sank a little in his chest. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head before moving back to work on more cookie dough.

“Why are you making so many cookies?” He asked, brows furrowing as he brushed his fingers over the sickly green mug with the cartoon characters face on it. “Do you plan on feeding an army?”

“No, but Stella suggested that we take some down to the local homeless shelter on Christmas Eve.” Anne smiled over at the girl. “That’s her family's Christmas tradition, and since she’s not with them this year, we thought we’d make it happen for her here.”

“Thank you again, for agreeing to this.” Stella smiled at Anne. “It really means the world to me, and I can’t thank you enough.”

“You’re a part of the family now, dear.” Anne teased. “Even if you’re not spending Christmas with us, this little tradition of yours has been officially integrated into our own Christmas tradition. We’ll always have a little bit of Stella with us during the Holiday’s now, eh.”

Stella laughed at that, reaching her arms out to wrap Anne in a hug.

Harry almost felt a little jealous at how seamlessly she fit in here.

“If you keep staring at her, she’s gonna want to run back to America.” Gemma nudged her elbow into his side. “We get it, she’s hotter than you.”

“Oh, shut up.” Harry rolled his eyes at Gemma as she smirked. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Okay, Casanova.” She snorted. “Whatever you say.

Harry wasn’t sure why he was hard.

He just wanted to close his eyes and go the fuck to sleep.

After a long day of travel, and an even longer evening filled with Harry pulling down Christmas decorations from the attic, he just wanted to sleep. He wasn’t looking forward to taking the annual trip to the Christmas Tree Farm tomorrow. Since Robin passed, Harry was the only man in the family, which meant that he often had to do the heavy lifting. He found that most of his strength lay in his core, despite the amount of lifting he’d done to buff up his arms, and he wasn’t looking forward to tossing a tree on top of his car while everyone watched.

Truthfully, that was the worry that should have been plaguing his mind as he lay in bed. Instead, his mind was lost in hazel colored waves that crashed on dark plum shores. He couldn’t stop thinking about Stella’s eyes or her perfectly shaped lips. He spent most of his night watching her drink from a wine glass, her cheeks turning a shade darker with each joke that she shared with his family. If there was one thing that he was shocked about, it was the dry humor that tumbled from her perfect plum colored lips. She was a funny girl, despite being quiet, and he laughed at every single joke she told without shame.

As he shifted his about, trying to avoid any further thoughts about her lips, the tip of his cock brushed against the warm flannel of his pajama pants. He let out a throaty groan, reaching down to push his palm into the crotch of his pants to soothe the pressure building in his lower belly. He couldn’t jack off to the thought of Gemma’s new friend, it would be awful, and it would surely land him on the naughty list. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best not to picture her lipstick staining his lower belly, his upper thighs, and eventually...the shaft of his cock. But after a few minutes of trying not to think about it, that was the only thing he could see behind closed eyes.

With an annoyed grumble, he dipped his hand into his pajama pants, tugging his cock out while his free hand pushed the band of the pants down his hips. He licked over his dry lips, making a mental note to buy some chapstick tomorrow as he gave himself one, swift stroke. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to moan as he brushed the pad of his thumb over the weeping slit of his cock. He was pathetic, dripping down his cock over a girl that he barely knew. He couldn’t believe that he was being that guy right now, tugging at his cock desperately to the thought of a beautiful girl on her knees for him. He wanted so badly to have her there, whispering filthy words in that gentle tone she had, encouraging him to cum on her tongue.

When he did cum, her name spilled from his lips.

His chest was heaving as he came down, the tinkling of Stella’s laughter filling his ears.

Seconds later, he heard her bid goodnight to Gemma before the door next to his own shut.

He was totally fucked for this girl.

The next morning, he didn’t expect to see Stella sitting at the breakfast bar when he came downstairs.

He stopped in the doorway, his cheeks growing warm as he looked over her sweater covered back. Thoughts of her name tumbling from his lips last night flooded back as he looked at her. She was wearing a lavender colored, cable knit sweater, and her curls were tied up in a messy ponytail on top of her head. Most of the curls had fallen out, covering up some of her neck alongside her fingers. Her cheek was propped on her palm, her gaze focused on her laptop as she lifted a mug of steaming liquid up to her mouth with her other hand.

Harry cleared his throat, walking toward the stove so he could put the kettle on. No one else in the house would be up for hours, but Harry couldn’t turn off his internal alarm clock no matter how he tried. He also hoped that he might find a moment of peace from the very girl sitting in his Mother’s kitchen. She haunted his dreams, her face playing on the silver screen in his mind all night long. He hated how infatuated he was with this woman that he barely even knew.

“Morning.” She spoke up first, her voice scratchy and tired. “Did you sleep well?”

“Splendid, yeah.” He nodded, filling the kettle with water. “You?”

“I’ve slept better, but that’s to be expected.” She said softly. “I spent a little bit of time on a skype call with my brother’s, so I was up longer than expected.”

“But you’re up fairly early this morning, aren’t you?” He put the kettle on the stovetop before turning around, his eyes landing on hers. “Why’s that?”

“I wake up this early anyways.” She smiled at him. “I usually like to go for a walk in the morning to wake myself up.”

“That’s nice.” He lifted his hand, scratching at the stubble on his jaw. “I usually like to go for a swim or a run in the morning, too.”

“Where do you swim?” She asked.

“There’s a men’s swimming club not too far from my home in London.” He said. “It’s freezing cold, but you get used to it after a while.”

“Jeeze, you swim outside in this weather?” She lifted her head from her palm, her eyes growing wide. “I could never.”

“It’s an acquired taste.” He chuckled softly. “What are you working on?”

“A new piece for my blog.” She said. “I started out using it as a diary of sorts, but people apparently love reading about the disaster that is my life.”

“I��m sure it’s not all horrible.” He hoped that he sounded encouraging and not rude. “You seem like a lovely, and positive person.”

“I try to be.” She shrugged, reaching for her mug. “I could say the same about you.”

“I try to be.” He smiled at her. “Would you like some breakfast?”

“Oh, I was actually thinking of popping down to this little bakery Gemma told me about-”

“Mandeville’s.” His heart picked up, a smile stretching across his lips. “Had my first job there.”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” She laughed, wrapping both hands around her mug as she leaned back in the barstool. “I figured I’d go grab some pastries for everyone. I know it’s kind of a busy day with the Christmas Tree Farm, so I thought it would be best if your Mum didn’t feel the need to cook.”

“She would love that.” Harry said. “Maybe I could go with you? We could both get our walks in, and I can see Mary before she hunts me down and drags me to the bakery.”

“I would love the company.” She smiled. “But enjoy your tea first, I’ll just be working on this until we’re ready to go.”

“Cheers.” He nodded, watching her eyes drop to her computer screen.

She wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup this morning, and Harry almost wished that she was.

He wished that she had covered up her beautiful, freckle covered skin so that he didn’t fall harder for her beautiful face. He wished that she was hiding away those little blemishes that made him swoon, because she was actually a human after all, not some angel sent down from heaven to torture him. He wished that she covered those beautiful lips in that plum lipstick again so that he could imagine kissing it off of her. He hated the feeling stirring inside of his belly, the butterflies a tell tale sign of his feelings.

He had a crush on Stella.

And there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling for her.

Stella’s gloves were precious.

They were a bright red, little snowflakes and reindeer stitched into them.

She offered to let Harry borrow a pair of her gloves, claiming that she’d brought plenty of pairs for the winter, but he politely declined before shoving his hands in his pockets. She looked so cozy, wrapped up in her winter coat with a beanie on top of her head and a matching scarf tied around her neck. Harry wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and cuddle her so that they could both stay nice and toasty on their walk. He wanted to kiss her bare cheeks, paying special attention to each freckle on her skin as the winter sun cast over them.

He was so infatuated with her that it was almost embarrassing.

“I can’t even imagine what it was like, growing up in a place like this.” Stella turned her head towards Harry, the tip of her nose a little red. “It’s so picturesque.”

“It’s alright.” He gave her a small smile. “I always wanted to get out when I was a kid.”

“Of course you did, we all do.” She chuckled. “I think everyone should run away for a little while, it really gives you all of the tools you need to really appreciate your hometown when you go back. I don’t know that I’ll ever move back to my hometown, but when I visit it, I feel a little bit more appreciative of the pivotal role it had in raising me.”

“I feel the same way about Cheshire.” Harry nodded. “It’s a big part of who I was, and that helped make me who I am. I wouldn’t be the same without this place.”

“Exactly.” She said.

“So where exactly are you from?” He asked. “I mean, obviously America-”

“Is it that obvious?” She asked, narrowing her eyes playfully, her lips pursed. “I don’t think it is.”

“It’s a neon, flashing sign above your head kind of obvious, love.” He snorted. “But I can’t place what your accent is.”

“It’s not really an accent.” Stella shrugged, turning her attention back to the sidewalk. “I grew up on the road for most of my life, but my family settled in Georgia when I was about twelve.”

“Interesting.” He said. “How did you like Georgia?”

“I didn’t, at first.” She laughed. “I hated it so much. I loved being on the road with my family, traveling places like Hawaii and Los Angeles. When we moved to the south, I despised everything about it. It was so plain and boring compared to places we’d lived before. But like I said, moving away has made me learn to love it more when I go back.”

“How long have you been gone?” He asked.

“About three years.” She said. “I lived in Amsterdam for a year, and then Paris, and now I’m here.”

“Which place is your favorite?” He asked. “Be honest with me, now. You don’t have to say London just because you’re trying to get on my good side.”

Stella tossed her head back, laughing loudly.

“I think it’s truthfully London, Harry.”

His name sounded like honey falling from her lips.

“Why is that?” He asked.

“Because I’ve found my chosen family.” She turned back, giving him a smile that thawed out the chill creeping up from his toes. “Starting with Gemma, of course. She was the first person to take me under her wings, and I’m so happy that I have her in my life. Then I started to find other people, and we all became this really close knit group of friends that felt more like family than my actual family does. I don’t know how I’ll ever leave this place.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” He said softly. “Maybe this is home.”

Please don’t go, Stella.

Stay here with me forever.

Love me.

“My contract is up at the end of the year, but we’ll just have to see how things go.” She said. “I might be convinced to stay.”

“Well, I guess I have a lot of work to do.” He chuckled.

“Why are you so keen on me staying?” She asked him, her brows raising as she gave him a knowing smirk. “Do you have a crush on me, Styles?”

His cheeks grew hot against the cold wind.

“Alright now, don’t let that go to your head.” He grumbled, tucking his neck into his scarf as Stella’s smile grew wider. “It’s all your bloody fault, you know?”

“What have I done?” She laughed louder. “I’m just me.”

“That’s exactly it.” He let out a breathy chuckle. “You’re you, Stella.”

The Christmas Tree Farm was going well.

That was up until Gemma decided that they absolutely needed to take a family picture in front of the big Christmas tree, Stella included. They had picked up a few little trinkets and such while walking around the market included in the farm. Anne picked up a reindeer headband with bells stitched in, plopping it on her head the second she found it. Gemma found an elf’s hat with little ears attached to the side, putting it on her hair before fussing with her hair. Stella found a crown made of poinsettias that she plopped on top of her curls, the red and gold working perfectly with her red lipstick and gold eyeshadow. Harry, however, wasn’t exactly in the spirit.

“You’re wearing the bloody santa hat, whether you like it or not!” Gemma shoved it towards him with a frown. “If you stand next to Stella, you’ll like Mr. and Mrs. Claus!”

“Shut up, Gemma.” Harry sneered, snatching the hat from her hands. “I didn’t tell you about that so you could throw it in my face!”

“Well, I’m doing it for the greater good of our family photo!” She glared at him. “Put that hat on before I shove it on your head myself.”

“Fine.”

“Are you two alright?” Stella smirked, adjusting her crown on her head as she walked up to Harry and Gemma. “Santa is still putting people on the naughty list you know?”

“If anyone’s going to be on the naughty list, it’s Harry.” Gemma tossed her arm around Stella’s shoulder with a proud smirk. “He’s being a pain in the arse.”

“Is the hat really necessary to the photo?” He groaned, dropping his head back.

“Yes.” Stella and Gemma said at the same time.

“Alright, alright.” He groaned, tugging the hat over his curls. “Are you both happy now?”

“Ecstatic.” Stella smiled brightly at Harry. “I think you look handsome.”

“I’m going to just point out…” Gemma pulled her arm from around Stella, tucking her hands behind her back. “That there’s mistletoe hanging from that piece of wood above your heads.”

“Gemma-” Harry’s eyes grew wide.

“And I’m promptly going to walk away.” She smiled at Stella. “Meet us at the tree in ten minutes.”

“Gemma-” Stella held her hand out as Gemma walked away, her eyes growing just as wide as Harry’s were. “What a sneaky little elf.”

“Tell me about it.” Harry shifted, adjusting the hat on his head. “Devious little-”

“Well, I guess we can’t break tradition.” Stella looked up at Harry, shuffling forward slowly with a little smirk on her lips. “I mean, what would Santa say if we didn’t kiss under the mistletoe?”

Harry licked over his bottom lip, his fingers twitching.

“You really want to kiss me?”

“I might.” Stella’s toes were almost touching Harry’s now. “But the question is, do you want to kiss me?”

“I do, yeah.” He nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since I laid eyes on you, Stella.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She raised her brows. “Now is your chance, Mr. Grinch, lay one on me.”

Harry lifted his hands, pressing them to Stella’s face hesitantly before he lowered his lips to hers in a soft kiss. It was a gentle peck, one that anyone would share underneath the mistletoe, but Harry wanted more from Stella. It seemed that she wanted more as well, her arms sliding around his neck as she pressed up on her toes. He let his hands fall to her waist as the kiss grew more intense, his hands holding onto her tightly as she brushed her tongue over his lower lip. He tried his best not to smile into the kiss, letting her have what she wanted by parting his lips. When her tongue slipped over his, he let out a tiny moan, gripping her hips tighter.

“Get a room, you two!” Harry groaned, pressing his forehead to Stella’s.

“Gemma, I swear to god-” Harry turned his head, whipping his santa hat off before he threw it in her direction. “Go bother someone else!”

Stella laughed, ducking her forehead down to Harry’s chest as he rubbed his thumbs over her side gently. He felt her body shaking underneath his hands, his heart hammering in his chest when he realized just how close they actually were. He turned his head back, lifting a hand up to guide Stella’s chin up. He pressed his lips to hers once, twice, three more times before she pressed her palms to Harry’s chest.

“We’ll never stop if we don’t move away from the mistletoe.” Stella whispered. “And I think Gemma might physically pull us apart if we miss that Christmas picture.”

“Let it be known that I’m only partaking in this picture because I want to stand next to you for as long as I can.” Harry smiled. “I think I have a little more than a crush on you, Stella.”

“I think I have more than a crush on you, too.”

“Madeline, stop right there.” Stella let out a frustrated sigh as she looped her arm under the baby carrier, her eyes falling down to the sleeping infant. “Milo, promise Mumma that you’ll listen when you get to that age?”

“Give him here.” Harry brushed a kiss over Stella’s temple, his hand massaging her lower back gently. “You go catch up with speed racer, okay? I’ll be right behind you with the baby and the diaper bag.”

“Thank you.” Stella turned her head, puckering her lips out. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He hummed out. “And our beautiful babies, even if one of them has a death wish and two left feet.”

Stella snorted out a laugh, pulling her arm from the carrier before she stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I better go help her up the stairs.”

“Please, we don’t need a repeat of last year.” Harry smiled.

“Yeah, I would like to avoid a trip to A&E this year.” Stella snorted.

He watched Stella walk over to an antsy Madeline, her pigtails bouncing about as she jumped from foot to foot in excitement. Harry chuckled softly at his daughter, amused by her excitement. He was happy that she found so much joy in Christmas, just like her Mother did. He watched Stella hold a hand out, waiting for Madeline to take it before they both conquered the brick steps outside of his Mum’s house. When they got to the top, Stella lifted Madeline up, kissing over her cheeks as their daughter giggled. Harry lifted Milo’s car seat from the base, his eyes falling down to the six month old with hazel eyes and soft cheeks just like his Mother’s.

“We’ve got our hands full with those two, mate.” Harry pulled the soft, wintery blue blanket up to Milo’s chin, tucking it around his shoulders so that he would stay warm. “Gonna keep us both on our toes, I know it.”

Milo cooed up at him, causing Harry to smile wider before he ducked his head down to kiss his son's soft cheeks.

“Let’s get you into Nan’s before you turn into a popsicle, my love.” Harry said. “Mumma won’t be happy if we have to spend Christmas thawing you out.”

As Harry made his way up the stairs, he couldn’t help but remember five Christmases ago.

He was walking up the exact same steps on his own, unaware of the magic that was waiting inside for him. He was unaware that the girl Gemma brought home for Christmas would one day be his wife, and the mother of his two beautiful children. He had no idea that they would spend long nights together, planning their future and holding each other tight. He opened the front door to his Mum’s house, smiling at the sound of Madeline telling his Mother a story with animated gestures, her curly pigtails bouncing around as Stella tried to wrangle her jacket off.

“And then Daddy told me we could get a puppy next year if I was good enough!” Madeline squealed out as Harry shut the door.

He dodged the steely gaze he got from Stella after she heard the word puppy.

“Sorry.” He mouthed over at her, causing her to shake her head as she tried to fight off a smile.

“You’re a menace.” She mouthed back. “But I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He said it outloud, his heart soaring in his chest.

Stella gave him a heart warming smile, Madeline’s coat still in her hands.

Seconds later, Milo let out a tiny cry causing Harry to snap back into dad mode.

He rested the carseat on the ground, carefully pulling his son out before pressing a kiss to his chubby little cheeks. As if Gemma could sense his presence, she barreled into the living room with her eyes set on Milo.

“There’s my little man.” She held her hands out, wiggling them as Harry rolled his eyes. “You get to see him every day, Harry. Pass him over to his auntie.”

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Please be careful with him, I kind of like this one.”

“Piss off.” Gemma snorted out, sliding Milo onto her hip before pressing a bright red kiss mark into his forehead. “Has Daddy told you that without auntie Gem, you wouldn’t exist?”

“Gemma-”

“Can you believe that?” She looked up at Harry, a hint of something nostalgic and genuine sparkling in her green eyes. “If I’d never brought Stella to family Christmas, we wouldn’t have two beautiful babies to dote over every year.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what life would be like without them.” He whispered. “Thank you, Gemma.”

“Harry, I really didn’t-”

“Gemma.” He said her name sternly, pressing his palm to her bicep. “Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She said softly, her eyes watering. “Now, if you could do me a favor and bring a hot friend around, I’d really appreciate it.”

“I’ll see what I can manage.” He let out a wet chuckle, his own eyes watering.

“What are we managing?” Stella wrapped her arms around Harry.

“We owe Gem a favor.” He sniffled, turning head to press a kiss to Stella’s forehead.

“Why are you crying, baby?” Stella frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing at all.” He pressed his lips to hers, softly brushing his nose against the tip of hers as his. “Just so incredibly grateful to have you in my life, that’s all.”

“You’re so sappy around the holiday’s.” Stella brushed her palm over his belly. “I love you, Mr. Styles.”

“I love you, too, Mrs. Styles.” He said. “Merry Christmas, Darling.”

“Merry Christmas.”

#not edited #as per usual #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry fic #harry one shot #harry imagine #harry styles X ofc #harry styles christmas fic #harry styles blurb #harry blurb #harry styles christmas blurb

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lilsuzn · 3 years

Text

MLQC Boys as Fathers

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen's Choice

Warnings: In the post below I decided to make girls like stereotypical girly things and boys stereotypical boyish things, but it doesn’t mean I believe it’s how it’s supposed to be. I personally had periods when I was very girly and ones when I was very tomboyish and that’s okay. What’s not okay is forcing your children to act certain ways and like certain thing just because they represent a certain sex.

Dedication: anon

Gavin

baby girl

Have you even seen that nail-painting Karma with him? This cutie!

If you guys had a daughter, she would be the happiest little girl on earth.

He would be unable to deny her anything. Don’t let these two go to the mall alone. Unless you don’t care for electricity or hot water. Then you do you, I guess.

I even can see him dressed in pink tutu, sitting by a small, pink table and sipping on nonexisting tea. Anything to make his little angel happy

I overall don’t see him as a parent who actively takes part in his child’s school life - like helping with organizing plays or sawing costumes or parent-teacher association associating or other stuff alike, BUT...

He sure would never miss a single performance of his baby girl and would support her along the whole way there.

And yes. He will watch YT tutorials to learn how to do some pretty hairstyles for his princess, even though initially he wouldn’t want to do them at all.

And yes. He will paint her nails when she’s old enough not to stuff her hands into her mouth all the time.

baby boy

They are collecting figures. Like, motorcycles and cars at first. Then also planes when the boy gets a little older.

He would look upto his daddy very much. Would adore that he’s a police officer and could fly and was just basically flawless - at least in your son’s eyes.

They would play with his plane toys, which boy could all name. His favorite would be the Supermarine Spitfire. Gavin could never play with that one. Dad is great and all, but it’s HIS plane.

When your sun gets a bit older, his dad would take him to aerobatic aviation shows and historic planes displays.

He surely would be a daddy’s boy, if you didn’t figure it yet. You’re cool and he loves you… BUT GAVIN?

Their bond remains strong throughout the years. They keep alot of secrets from you, but you benefit from it from time to time. Especially in saving nerves. So it’s cool. Unless it’s not…

When grown up he sure would become a police officer like his dad or a soldier. I sure see him in military aviation. Dad would be a bit worried, but would give him his full support and all the help he could.

I also believe you and Gavin would have more than just one child, but that’s just a side note.

Kiro

baby girl

He’s not a regular dad. He’s a cool dad.

Not a reckless dad tho. He knows it’s not good for kids to eat as much sweets as they want to. He knows it’s not the best idea to say yes to every single whim of theirs…

But his little princess is so pretty. And so cute. And so sweet.

Remember when I told you how Gavin would be not so happy to attend her daughter’s tea parties?

Kiro would live for those! He would buy himself dresses for those occasions.

And they would do fashion shows for you.

This dad is going to ask his daughter to do his makeup.

Takes her to get ice cream behind your back after picking her up from her ballet practice.

baby boy

I don’t know why, but I see his son as that shy, artistic type. That romantic boy with an acoustic guitar kind of trope.

He would have a voice of an angel and a talent surpassing even his father’s. He literally doesn’t need Kiro’s evol to have his charm.

This dad would be so proud. A little sad that his modest, little boy doesn’t want to perform on stage with him, but still - so extremely happy to have such a talented son.

He would get him the best tutors, and the finest instruments and every other equipment his little angel might need. Not even necessarily ask for.

If that was what wished for, he would help him start a career. He surely has what it gets to make someone famous.

If that wasn’t what his son wanted however - he would never push him. He knows the price that comes with money and a large fanbase and he wouldn’t force anyone to pay it.

Lucien

baby girl

I see Lucien as the best dad of all 4, and before you get mad at me for being biased, know that he's not my fav. I like being called an idiot and men in uniforms.

Big part of it would surely be his psychological knowledge, not gonna lie. Second one would be his outstanding intelligence that helps him with application of upbringing’s roles into life.

He just knows exactly how and when to be soft and when and how to be firm.

He would take his daughter for walks and movies. He would love to take her to an amusement park from time to time.

It’s important for him that his daughter would be well socialised.

And surprise, surprise - his daughter would be a genius. Doesn’t matter if you are biological parents or not. It just happened. And he’s very happy to be destroyed in a chase game by his nine year old.

He helps her with preparing for math contests. And any other contests there are.

They often sit together on the couch and read books. She even makes the same face as she focuses. Yes - even she’s adopted.

It’s a Christmas miracle, I don’t know. Ask Lucien, he probably does.

baby boy

Wouldn’t it be absolutely cute and a little bit ironic if his son would be a little trouble maker?

Wouldn’t want to study. Just spent all day on the playground with other kids. An tradic picky eater. Can fall asleep wherever he is, in whatever position he is.

I could see Lucien struggle to find a way to get to his child, but I couldn’t see him ever give up.

He would enroll his son into some school sports team and would very actively support it. They need a parent to go with them to attend a sports contest in another school. Sign him up. Lucien is a very busy man, that’s true, but not too busy for that.

He would learn the rules and tactics of whatever game his son plays.

Would help him practice outside his practices. Even if he might not enjoy it.

And obviously, would eagerly help him if he had any problems in school.

Overall, I see Lucien as a very loving father, who doesn’t shy away with expressing just how important his kids are for him.

Victor

baby girl

The one who would constantly motivate his children.

They are learning languages, participating in at least one sport, playing an instrument and traveling around the world with him to experience many different cultures.

His little girl would be confident, smart, self-disciplined and an absolutely cute dork who thinks daddy doesn’t know she figured how to get to that cookie jar on the highest shelf.

She started drawing things for him since she was too small to even talk properly… and she was really good for such a small poppet.

He quickly decided to add art classes to her already long list of extracurricular activities.

At some point she was absolutely wonderful. Daddy was swelling with pride.

A perfect student, remarcable artist… Obviously a Li.

She would then study architecture at the most prestigious university in the country. Victor would spare no expenses. She deserves it.

baby boy

A quiet but intimidating kid that sits in the first row in class and gives his teacher a challenging look.

Destroys in chess even Lucien’s daughter… sometimes.

Has no friends because he’s disgusted by other people.

Daddy’s boy lvl. 100 Future LFG CEO.

If he could he would even sleep with daddy… but daddy doesn’t let him because he needs “privacy” with you. Good thing you sometimes make him sandwiches, because you might get taken care of…

Victor would have his kid’s photo on his desk. Two of them actually. One facing him and one facing anyone who sits on the opposite side. People need to know just how cute they looked in their matching shirts during last year’s father’s day celebrations.

They would go to the movies together. Victor who usually makes sure your kids are eating healthy would buy him a huge popcorn… and sometimes even M&M’s.

Victor would be a principled dad with high expectations, but don’t make a mistake. Even if his kids weren’t as ambitious and success focused as he’s he would love them just as much and care for them just as much.

There would also be no favoring if you had more than one child. Everyone must feel equally loved and he would make sure it’s exactly the case.

#mlqc li zeyan #mlqc victor #mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mr love victor #mr love queen's choice #mlqc ling xiao #mlqc bai qi #mlqc gavin #mlqc kiro #mlqc lucien #mlqc fluff

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broxklynn · 3 years

Text

The End Of My Candy Love

Warning!

Alright, so. This post will contain a lot. First of all, it's gonna be really sloppy. I'm very emotional person and I easily get attached to games, movies and stuff. I know it's a bit weird, but yeah, I'm a weird person. Anyway, that's why there's a warning: there's gonna be a lot of sloppiness, grammar mistakes (at least I think so, specially since english isn't my native languange) and it's probably going to be long. So, if you're intrested in reading my thoughts about everything - good luck.

First Adventure

I first heard about "My Candy Love" in 2015, six years ago. So, I was basically a baby (I'm pretty young). And I started playing a year after, I got totally obssesed with Lysander and I fell in love, seriously, haha. I was into writing back then, but I couldn't find any ideas on "what to write?" and MCL gave me just that - inspiration (that's most likely why I'm just a romance freak).

My Story

You know, I was a child so I couldn't really pay for AP, but I always found some kind of way to get them. But then I got my phone I just used money from that, geez, I was nuts. The old AP system was so iconic, looking for Nathaniel, finding Kiki, I'm gonna miss it.

Anyway, I got along with Castiel pretty well (which suprises me 'cause I found about walkthroughs in 2017, like year after, so maybe it was because I was a brat?), but I adored Lysander. Oh, I also loved Ken (I was so sad when he went away) and Nathaniel. After I met Armin, I liked him too.

Again, being a child and playing a game like this I came across all diffrent kinds of emotions. I was laughing, crying, dying from embaressment (this thing with Nath and locker room, aaa) and getting seriously mad (Deborah's arc, Priya, Charlotte). I remember impatiently waiting for new episode to come out or crying my eyes out during Lysander's amnesia plot. Jesus. I loved the way Castiel was teasing Candy, I loved this cute-clumsy Kentin, I loved the old Nathaniel, I loved Armin and most of all - I loved my precious Lysander. I adored the interactions between characters, how funny or cringy they were and how much fun I had. I even like this secret-dating plot even when it got on my nerves. I still remember staying up late to watch videos like "lysander illustrations" and stuff. I also really enjoyed reading MCL manga and I spent hours trying to translate it from Spanish to English or my native languange (funfact: I still haven't finished it! I don't know where to find those mangas) or trying to draw something from the game up ending up terribly failing. Anyway, I was crying during the prom thing, my Candy was so grown-up, I got emotional, haha. So, 40 episode came in. I was pretty excited 'because, me, being extremely naive (I got to say, I've never had a problem with Beemoov before, I started playing MCL in 2016 and Eldarya in 2017, so there were no major issues with them, only the price of PA, I think) thought that my Lysander is going to propose (I was a child, ok?) and maybe, there's going to be a second season with us living together. Haha, how naive I was. Whole episode 40, really got me tearing up, I was a wreck, seriously (When Kentin couldn't take Candy's bra off I lost it or this whole ananas thing in Castiel's route, omg). But I finished it feeling happy. I truly enjoyed spending my time on this game. But, then this whole university thing came out. And the fact, that Lysander, Armin and Kentin won't be with us foe the next season. I spent entire vacation crying (I was a kiddo, ok?) and being mad at everyone. I felt like I got robbed. It was horrible.

"A New Chapter"

I was one of these people who just couldn't accept the change. Not in the world. Never. They stole my Lysander, Kentin and Armin from me and changed AP system to some kind of bullshit. God, I was mad. Really mad. Seeing Castiel was quite nice, but I didn't fill the void of my baby. But, oh, my, God. When I saw Nathaniel I just couldn't believe. I said I was mad? Then I was furious. I really liked the old Nathaniel, he had his own vibe, his backstory, his character and it was just, damn, amazing. But they changed him completely, for what? They wanted the second Castiel? Yeah, they got it. Priya as a love interest was quite a good move, tho. I even though I didn't like her (in highschool or in university) I liked the idea of adding a female interest. But the thing that hurted me, was the fact that Lysander was taking care of the farm. Like, no! He didn't want that. He didn't like the countryside. He had such a potential to become a author and Beemoov didn't let him. God, that broke my heart. Anyway, I didn't spent a single penny on MCLUL, but I have to say - I kinda enjoyed it. You know, it was the guily-pleasure kind of thing. I didn't like it as much as I liked highschool, but there were some good or funny moments. I loved Rayan's kiss scene. I adored Chani. Or Hyun making us watch "Toy Story". Nathaniel's ulgy green hair or all these crazy threesomes. I liked it. Kinda. I hated Nath tho. The ending, hm, it was okay, I guess? I do feel sort of nostalgic thinking about it 'cause I got some nice memories from it, in the end. But yeah, going on.

Love Life

Oh. My. Lord. I was so sceptical about it. Like, I was sure that, at this point they're going to do "My Candy Love Mid-Life Crises" next or some other shit. But in the end, I "kinda" like it. It wasn't good like highschool or fresh like university, but I was nice to see new chapters with our annoying-cringy Candy, that I love (btw, I started playing other otome games and I realized that Candy wasn't that bad). Meeting Eric was nice, even tho, this whole cheating plot really got me ragging. Like, damn, Beemoov, seriously? And if you going this, why not with old LIs? Just kidding. Anyway, I truly enjoyed meeting Dan and Eric, the two of them were quite a characters. I won't forget them, hah. I was happy with single ending, 'cause I think about it as a "open ending" when my Candy can go back to my baby and everything's going to be alright.

Regrets & Complaints

Now, now. Where do I start? AP system was a freaking nightmare. Replacing old Nathaniel with some kind of weird Castiel was a nightmare. Removing Lysander, Nathaniel, Armin and Kentin was a nightmare. Not finishing plots was a nightmare. And why in the whole Love Life I haven't seen Amber once? Why Alexy never mentioned Evan like they're not brothers? Why Castiel doesn't care that I was dating his bestfriend? And why, in the world, after changing the system finding Kiki is so damn easy? Why AP is so expensive? So many questions!

All The Good Times

But, I got to say. I will never forget this bitchy Castiel, cookie-monster Ken following us around. Or cute Nathaniel. Castiel buying Candy some kind of weird McDonald's. Or Lysander's parents exposing him having crush on Candy. Or seeing Kentin kissing Amber (ew). This super akward-funny sex ed lesson. Deborah's arc and losing my shit over it. Or Thomas (this weird child) stalking my Candy and her LI in the park. And Lysander asking us how to hide a body, aaa. Or Armin telling us he loves us. Or Kentin. And Cookie ripping this huge teddybear apart. Or the water fight in Kentin’s spin off. And crushing on Alexy and later on finding out he’s gay. Or spin-the-bottle game and Lysander getting jealous. Or Dake, being a creep for entire game straight. Or guessing what was guy's surnames. And for sure, I will never forget this demonic Kiki dog.

What it worth it?

In the end, yes. Have I ever told you that I want to become a professional writer? Silly dream, I know, but writing is a huge passion of mine, and well, my first story was based off My Candy Love (it is cringy as hell, but I feel kinda nostalgic thinking about it). All these years spending on playing game that I wasn't supposed to be playing was amazing. It was one of the best experiences I had in life and I will never, ever forget that.

What now?

Well, Beemoov is working on a new game and I'm kinda optimistic. I know, it's really naive of me, but I want to believe that they won't f*ck this up, this time. And going back to Sweet Amoris, well, I truly missed this place! And the teachers... And Kiki. I wonder, when it will be released and will Beemoov finally open up about telling us surnames and ages of love interests. Anyway, I want to believe they learnt from their mistakes.

In the end. Thank you, My Candy Love, for creating so many memories. I will be forever grateful.

(I just re-read this post and it seems like I have really love-hate relationship with this game)

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miracleonice87 · 3 years

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’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.

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.

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jessbakescakes · 3 years

Note

the recent prompt list - 40 with j/d please!!! what you said when you met my parents!!!

40) Things you said when you met my parents from this post.

Okay, I got this prompt about four different times (that's a good thing, you all have great taste and I love it), so consider this my response to all of them. I did a little twist on it, so I hope you enjoy it. Post-series J/D on this one with bonus Mama Lyman.

Yup, you read that right. Post-series. You'll see.

Thanksgiving 2006

“I probably should have brought wine,” Donna muses, taking a right turn into the quiet retirement community subdivision where Josh’s mom lives. “We should have stopped at the store.”

Josh laughs. “You know she doesn’t care about that.”

“She may not, but I do,” Donna counters. “It’s rude to show up without a gift when you’re a guest in someone’s home. We’re looking for number 683, right?”

“Yes. Red shutters. You’ve been here before,” Josh reminds her. “You’ve been here before, and you’ve met her before.”

“Not as your girlfriend, I haven’t.”

He reaches over and takes her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I promise you, she’s going to be thrilled.”

Donna looks at him, wide-eyed, for a split second before turning her gaze back to the road. “She doesn’t know I’m coming?”

“I wanted to keep it a surprise!” Josh argues. He’s not sure that this is the best strategy, showing up with Donna for Thanksgiving without a word of warning, but he’ll be the one who’s under the microscope, not her. In Rachel Lyman’s eyes, Donna Moss can do no wrong. As soon as they’re alone, Josh’s mom will give him the third degree about marriage and babies, when he plans to propose and why it took him so long. He’ll obfuscate a little, lower her expectations, maybe throw his mom a bone toward the end of the conversation just before Donna finishes.

And maybe, just maybe, he’ll ask his mom to find his grandmother’s engagement ring at some point before they leave.

Donna turns into the driveway and turns the car off, turning to look at Josh before they step out of the car to grab their things. “Are you sure…”

Josh almost lets her finish, but gives her hand, still intertwined with his, a gentle squeeze. “I’m positive. It’s gonna be fine.”

She gives him a half-smile and lets out a long exhale. “Okay.” Donna opens the door and walks around to the trunk of the car to grab her bags.

Before Josh can make his way back there with her, the front door to the house opens, and his mother steps outside. “You’re here!” Rachel says, making a beeline toward her son and pulling him into a hug. “I just saw on the news that there was heavy traffic, I assumed you’d be stuck in that for a little while.”

“We managed to avoid too much traffic,” Josh says. “I think we got on the road right before it got too bad.”

Rachel pulls away from Josh, leaving a hand clasped on either one of his arms. “We?” she asks, her eyebrows raised. She looks around Josh toward the back of the car and gasps. “Donna!” Rachel lets go of Josh and darts toward where Donna is standing. “What a wonderful surprise!”

“It’s so good to see you,” Donna says, returning Rachel’s enthusiastic hug. “Thank you so much for having us.”

“Oh, of course, it’s no trouble at all,” Rachel says. “This is the first time I’ve seen you since you changed your hair! You look fantastic, sweetheart.”

Donna beams, her cheeks flushing pink as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ears. “Thank you.”

Rachel grabs Donna by the arm, leading her toward the front door. “Are you hungry? I’ve got some cookies out on the coffee table for you, so hopefully, that will hold you over until dinner.”

“That sounds great,” Donna says, allowing Rachel to pull her into the house.

“Joshua, hurry in with the bags, we don’t want bugs in the house,” Rachel calls over her shoulder.

Josh grabs the luggage and brings it inside, shutting the door behind him as Rachel and Donna walk into the living room. He places their bags in the guest room, then stands back and watches as his mom leans toward Donna and whispers, almost conspiratorially, before Donna takes a seat on the couch. Whatever she says before she heads to the kitchen elicits a laugh out of Donna, along with Donna’s first genuine smile since they left their apartment early that morning.

Josh walks into the living room and takes a seat on the couch, reaching for Donna’s hand as he settles in. “What’s she doing?”

“Grabbing us some coffee,” Donna says.

Rachel walks into the living room, a mug of coffee in each hand, and places them on the coffee table in front of Donna and Josh. “Josh, if you need any more cream or sugar, you’ll have to…” Rachel stops for a moment, looking at their intertwined hands and then back up at Josh.

“Mom,” Josh starts. “Don’t get…”

“Finally!” Rachel interjects, her tone exasperated but the grin on her face revealing her true feelings about the situation. “Took you two long enough.” She takes a seat in the chair adjacent to the couch, reaching for a mug of tea sitting on an end table to her right.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Josh laughs.

Rachel shrugs. “The rest of us have just been waiting for you to catch up for years.”

Josh pauses for a moment. The rest of us? Who is 'the rest of us'? Before he can ask her this question, his mother is already on an entirely different train of thought. “Donna, I think I remember how you take your coffee, but if you need anything else for it, feel free to grab whatever you want. That goes for everything, towels, blankets, plates, silverware… Josh, show her where everything is tonight before you two turn in, would you?”

“Okay,” Josh agrees, still trying to process the ease with which his mother has accepted this big change.

“Oh, also, Donna, I actually meant to show you something. It’s this tea set I found at an estate sale,” Rachel says. “Well, it’s not a set, really, just a teapot and two teacups. They were just so pretty, and I thought of you when I saw them. I’ll go get them.” She stands up from her chair and disappears down the hallway.

Josh turns to Donna, whose smile has grown bigger and brighter than it was a few minutes ago. “I’m so sorry, she’s going to do that annoying thing where she tries to send you home with a teapot and teacups, and whatever else she saw and bought because she thought of you. Just remind her we flew here.”

“It’s okay,” Donna laughs. “I think it’s sweet. Makes me feel… I don’t know, like she likes including me. It’s nice.”

Rachel has been including Donna for years. That started sometime after Rosslyn, in the weeks they spent together at his place taking care of him. It happened after years of birthday gifts for both of them, mailed in the same package, with one shared note, always signed ‘Love, Mom’. It happened between their rushed thirty-minute coffee dates on the campaign trail (where they undoubtedly talked about Josh) and weekly phone calls and ‘I know you don’t celebrate Hanukkah but I thought of you anyway’ gifts to be followed by a round of Christmas gifts shortly thereafter. It’s been ages since she stopped considering Donna a guest and started considering her family.

There’s something that feels right about watching the two of them together - he’s seen them together at least a dozen times over the years, watched them bond during his recovery, but this time it feels different. Donna isn’t his just assistant anymore, she’s not simply his best friend. She never was only those things, if he’s being honest with himself. She’s always been so much more.

Now he gets where his mom was coming from.

“Well, I think you’re stuck with her now,” Josh teases.

“I’m okay with that,” Donna says softly.

#josh x donna #my fics #the west wing

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch7: Eight Letters, Three Words, One Meaning

Summary: Katie and Steve’s relationship is blossoming, but they’ve still not come out to the rest of the team. Well, not yet anyway…

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Bad language, spiders (yeah, okay, I need a warning for those eight legged freaks) Smut (NSFW, 18+)

A/N: More credit to my edit partner, @angrybirdcr

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 6

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

June 2013

Katie was trying to listen, she really was, but the warmth of the June sun was lulling her to sleep, despite the fact she had only gotten up two hours or so ago. She was trying to focus on the intelligence that had come out of the Department of Damage Control, that a Warehouse in Columbia was housing a load of the alien based weapons for sale on the black market.

Maybe if she just closed her eyes….

She found herself daydreaming. About her favourite thing to day dream about. Steve. It was now five weeks since they had started dating and two weeks since they had been caught by Tony. Since then they’d spent pretty much every other evening wrapped around one another post making out. Sometimes it would just be a bit of heavy kissing, sometimes there would be a little more. Like when he had lain over her on the bed, kissing her neck, lips, chest, before slipping his hands into her panties for the first time as he’d coaxed her to completion that way before she’d returned the favour, wrapping her palm around him, bringing him off.

And then yesterday had been her birthday, which had brought her one hell of a present.

Katie had been on at him for as long as she could remember for a ride on his motorbike so, amongst other presents, Steve had Clint help him research the best helmet he could get and he’d bought her one, much to her excitement. She’d squealed and then squealed some more when he had revealed they were off out for the afternoon. He’d packed an evening picnic and taken her up to Rock Creek Park where they’d eaten subs, muffins and were now laid back on the blanket, her head resting on his chest.

“Your hair smells different…nice different…” He nuzzled his nose into it.

“Oh, it’s a different shampoo…” She grinned “It was in the hamper of ridiculously expensive toiletries and make-up that Tony sent me. Or should I say Pepper, as he will have had no idea about any of that stuff…”

“Smells of cookies.”

“It has oatmeal in so you’re not far off.” She smiled, looking up at the sky.

The pair of them stayed still, his hand straying into her hair before he broke the calm silence.

“You know, when I was a kid…me and Bucky used to play a game, spotting shapes in the clouds” he said

“Tony used to do that with me.” she smiled, shifting her head so that the back of it still lay across his chest but she could see upwards “See, there’s a dog…”

“Looks more like a cow to me…” He cocked his head to one side.

“A cow?” she snorted, “Where have you ever seen a cow look like that?”

The two of them stayed like that for another hour or so, playing shapes and making conversations before the sun began to stray behind the trees. Reluctantly Katie agreed it was probably time to go home.

“I’ve had,” she undid the strap on her baby blue and silver helmet, pulling it off with a flourish as she stepped off the bike outside her apartment, “the most amazing birthday, thank you…”

She reached up and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it doll.” He said gently as she reached into her back pocket for her key card. Smiling he dropped his hand to her waist as they walked to the elevator. When the doors opened, Katie tugged on his hand gently and led him in after her. Once in her apartment, he allowed just enough time for them to remove their jackets and for Katie to hang her new helmet in pride of place on the hooks before his lips crashed onto hers, the kisses growing deeper, and he hooked his hands round the back of her thighs and easily picked her up. She giggled, wrapping her legs round his waist, her nose brushing against his as he carried her up the stairs, dropping her gently on the bed. She spread her legs making room for him so he could settle his hips in between the space they made as she wrapped her arms round his neck, his hands gently running up the side of her ribs, pulling off the t-shirt she was wearing, cupping her face in his hands. He let out a soft moan as her hands started to slide down his chest and it was clear she had intentions of using her hands, if not her mouth as well, on him again but that wouldn’t do, not on her birthday.

“Uh-uh not tonight baby girl.” He said, gently grabbing her wrists.

She frowned and looked genuinely pissed off that he was stopping her. As she pouted at him, he simply smiled “It’s your birthday, after all.” He whispered into her mouth before setting her hands down on the pillow on either side of her head before turning his attention to her chest, sucking and biting through her bra, listening to the sounds she made right by his ear. He continued his affections downwards, pressing small kisses all the way down her body until his nose was skimming along the waistband of her jeans. She let out a groan of delight as he brought his hands up to undo them and started guiding them down.

The idea of tasting her like this had been on his mind since she had first done it to him but he was utterly lost, with no idea on what to do next. He glanced up at her, swallowing slightly and instantly understanding that he needed encouragement, Katie reached down to tangle her fingers in his hair, raising her hips to help him remove the jeans and her underwear. She knew he had never done this before, but now, as she gently bent her knees to allow him access she heard him let out a soft moan of his own and watched him as he snuck one glance up at her and then set his mouth on her.

It took a while, her guiding him gently, telling him what she liked, what was working and what wasn’t but she didn’t really have to give him too much direction. What he lacked in skill he made up for with dogged determination and eventually, her breathy directions died in her throat and then she was moaning and writhing in pleasure as his mouth worked her over, one hand in his hair and the other gripping the sheets. Her sweet, salty tang on his tongue set every nerve in his body on edge and the more he tasted the more he wanted.

Katie could hear and feel him groaning with each lick and suck he gave her. He was aroused, really aroused and surprised to find the warm feeling across his stomach was getting harder to ignore the more he worked her. When he focused his attention back on her little bundle of nerves, licking at it before closing his lips around it and sucking it into his mouth she was done. Her body convulsed, her back arched and she let out a strangled cry, his name on her lips and it made him slightly smug to hear. Steve held her down gently, one strong arm over her small waist and as her hand gripped his hair harder and she groaned brokenly once more, he felt himself go, tipping over the edge and he shuddered gently as his own release washed over him. Katie pushed her hand into his hair, having become too sensitive, gently moving his mouth away from her. Taking the hint, he obliged, kissing his way back up her body, pressing his mouth onto hers.

“Good?” He asked breathlessly, staring at her, seeking confirmation despite the fact she lay completely and utterly undone beneath him.

“God, yes.” Her voice was gruff, as she kissed him, the fact that he could still clearly taste her on his tongue meant that she would be able to too, and the fact that she didn’t care made him shudder, though that also might have something to do with the mess he’d once again made in his pants like a horny schoolboy.

As they kissed she began to trail her hand back down his chest reaching for his buckle but he stopped her again, pulling away.

“I err….” he trailed off, dropping his head slightly embarrassed. But he needn’t have been. The fact that he’d gotten off on giving Katie what was, frankly, the best orgasm she could remember having made her grin and she cocked her head to one side as she eyed him, tipping his head up to look at her.

“Best birthday present ever.” She smirked, drawing a laugh from him before he kissed her again.

“Agent Stark!” Fury barked, jerking her awake. Damned, had she actually fallen asleep in briefing? Steve was perched on the edge of Fury’s desk, and Katie could tell he was fighting to keep a smirk off his face.

“Sorry Sir, didn’t get much sleep last night.” She avoided looking at Steve as she spoke, her mouth tugged upwards at the corners.

Besides her she heard Clint give a snigger which he hastily turned into a cough. Of course he knew about the pair of them. Him, Natasha and Evans being the only people on the team that did although Katie and Steve had both admitted they didn’t really know how much longer they could keep it clandestine.

“So as I was saying,” Fury shot Katie another look as Natasha played along, patting Clint harshly on the back. “Salaad Ali.” Fury pointed at the picture of the main man responsible for the arms ring we had been tracking over the middle East . “Do we know much about him?”

“He’s a sick bastard” Clint sat up, suddenly all business. “Came across him on an op in 2009. Apparently when he was active as part of the regime under Sadam Hussein he was tasked with taking out a Kurdish fighter cell that was stockpiling munitions. He was undercover for a month. Then one night he kidnaps a guard, peels off the skin from his right hand, completely, and wore it like a glove to gain access to their stores using the biometric scanners.”

“That’s about power.” Katie took a breath as she rose from her seat. “Mocking and goading the people who he’s stealing off. Look at me, not only did I infiltrate your organisation, I maimed your security guard in the process.”

Fury invited her to take the floor and she stood up and spoke confidently. “From what I’ve read he’s obviously an organised offender.” Steve had to smile, before she had trained as a sniper after Clint had discovered she had a natural eye for a shot, she had joined STRIKE as a Mission Analyst-slash- Target Profiler. And she was good at it. “He’s sophisticated in his approach, and is a meticulous planner.”

“You have to be to pull off the sort of crimes he has, these are big jobs.” Clint said. Katie nodded as she paced slightly, the way she always did when she was thinking.

“I also believe from the other things he has allegedly done, the murders, rapes…he’s a control freak, a sadist, type of person who will always want the last word in the argument so to speak. Therefore, if he knows someone is on to him, he won’t come quietly.” She stopped by Steve and looked at Fury, then round the room at the assembled team. “We should be prepared for a fight. And they’ll be fighting to kill, not wound.”

“Can’t the air force just blow the place up?” Rumlow asked as Steve adjusted his stance slightly, his hand’s dropping to the buckle on his belt as he studied the man before his attention turned to Fury.

“If it was that simple we would have already sent in an air strike.” The Director shook his head, pushing a button to show a map. Besides him, Steve felt Kate shift a little and he stole a glance at her to see she was concentrating on the screen, her chin resting on the closed fist of her left hand, elbow supported on her right arm which was crossed over the front of her body. Steve watched as her eyes flicked over the details and he turned to the screen as well, immediately spotting what the problem was.

“There’s a civilian village less than five hundred yards away.” He sighed. “That place goes up so do they.”

“Exactly.” Fury nodded.

“Not to mention those weapons are really volatile.” Katie took a deep breath. “If they have as many as we suspect, then if they go up, it’s gonna leave one hell of a hole.”

“Which is why you need take the base and clear out the weapons.” Fury nodded. “And bring Ali in, I have some questions for him before we turn him over to the Authorities.”

*****

They decided to operate under the cover of darkness, to give them the element of surprise. Once they had some form of plan- a heat scan as they hovered over the building told them how many people were in the building and once they had established that they moved in. They operated as a well-organised unit, quickly and meticulously flushing out the hostiles.

It was all going too smoothly, especially as Ali was still in the building. Capturing him was surprisingly easy, even if it was Natasha that found him. In hindsight, that should have been a warning sign they probably should have spotted. As Rumlow and Natasha were leading him away, the team already having dispatched the rest of the hostiles, Steve, Clint and Katie headed deeper into the warehouse to locate the weapons themselves when, just as they found a hidden room off the main service corridor, there was a loud clicking noise and Clint stopped dead.

“Shit.” He muttered and Katie wheeled round and he held his hand up to her. “Don’t move.”

“What…” Katie followed his gaze and swallowed when she saw his foot resting over a small metal pad on the creaking floor boards of the first floor room they were in.

“Yeah…we have a problem.” Clint sighed, looking at her then to the Captain “Should have seen that one coming.”

He’s the type of guy that will want the last laugh, so if he knows someone is on to him, he aint coming quietly

Steve scanned the floor and spotted another trigger a few feet away from Katie. Pulling her to the left away from it he looked around the room.

“What’s going on?” Rumlow asked over the coms.

“The son of a bitch has the place rigged.” Clint wiped his brow “ I’ve triggered some kind of sensor pad.”

“If he’s laying traps in here then the weapons have to be nearby…” Steve said, as Katie dropped to her hands and knees, torch shining through the dirty, well-worn floorboards.

“The device has to be under here…” she said, and she began to follow the wire across the floor, keeping her eyes peeled for more booby-traps, as Steve carefully made his way into a small room off to their right avoiding another trigger as he went. His eyes scanned the various crates of the familiar shining metal weapons and he sighed.

“Found the jackpot…”

“So have I.” Katie said, stopping crawling as the wire ended. She could just about make out the metal box, a red light flashing ominously through the gaps.

“Ok, we’re coming to you.” Rumlow spoke again

“No!” Steve hastily turned and walked back into the main room. “We don’t know how many of these he has laid around the place. Wait for my instructions.”

He glanced over at Clint who was stood, motionless, his eyes focussed on his foot.

“Barton, you okay?”

“Peachy, Cap” he said, looking up “Guess my Hawk eyes let me down”

“Happens to the best of us.” Steve looked at him as Katie stood up, pointing to her foot.

“It’s under there.”

“How big is it?” Steve asked.

“It doesn’t matter how big”. She said gently “It explodes then those weapons go up…” She trailed off.

And Clint dies no matter what, and as they wouldn’t ever leave a man behind, so did they.

"We need to start evacuating civilians.” Steve took a deep breath, “Rumlow…”

“We can start clearing the village but how many we’ll clear before-“

“Do what you can.” Steve cut him off. “Romanoff, have a chat with our prisoner, see if you can get him to talk, tell us how we turn this thing off”

“Yeah, not gonna happen.” She replied, not a trace of her usual biting sarcasm in her voice. “He’s out cold. Suddenly decided he didn’t fancy being captured after all and got a bit rough on the way up. I had to take him out.”

“Shit.” Katie muttered as Steve let out a long sigh, turning to face her as she stood, thinking something over. It wasn’t a great idea, but was the only chance they really had. So she decided to roll with it.

“Can you help me get the floor boards up?”

“Won’t that disturb the bomb?” He asked, frowning a little.

“Not if you do it here.” she moved about six foot to her left. “I can get underneath, see if I can disable it.”

Steve looked at her, then to Clint before sighing. It didn’t look like they had a choice.

“Alright.”

A minute later, Vibranium shield and steel knives had worked their magic as Katie and Steve had prised a space big enough for Katie to lower herself into, head first, torch in her mouth, phone held in front of her, on her stomach. She crawled over to the bomb and looked at it.

“It’s on a fucking timer too!” she sighed, swallowing as the timer had less than 5 minutes on it.

“How long?” Steve asked.

“Long enough…” she said, deciding not to tell them. She snapped a photo before dropping the torch to the boards beneath her so that it illuminated the dark space in front of her.

“Someone patch me through to Lawson …now.” she spoke

Less than forty seconds later Lawson’s British accent hit her ear.

“Nova.” he said.

“We have a situation.” She spoke calmly, although she was anything but. She didn’t like tight spaces at the best of times and there was a huge spider sitting to her right. And she fucking hated spiders. And she was facing a bomb, now with three minutes left on the clock. Swallowing her fear she sent the photo to Lawson’s computer, her hands shaking “Hawkeye triggered this, can we disarm it?”

A moment’s pause.

“Yeah, we can. I can talk you through this…”

Steve swallowed and looked at Clint, the man seemed surprisingly calm considering, but then he was used to staying still for long periods of time on stakeouts. He gave Steve a slight shrug and the Captain looked back to the hole Katie had shimmied into.

“You’re gonna need a knife or something sharp to cut the wires”

“Got it.” Katie wriggle to free the standard issue Swiss Army Knife which contained every single gadget known to man from her thigh pocket.

“Ok so first thing is first, you’re going to need to lift it out slightly to get to the wires ok. There should be 3…blue, white and red….but this is important Stark so listen.”

“Listening”

“The blue wire has to remain intact and in contact with the sensor under Hawkeye’s foot. So don’t cut it or pull it ok?”

“Don’t pull or cut blue, right.”

“You need to gently lift it out towards you, watching that blue wire, and turn it to the side so you can see the red and white wires…”

Taking a deep breath, with trembling hands she gently reached out and slowly, carefully turned the bomb to the side, letting out a small squeak of fear as the huge black spider moved closer.

“You okay?” Steve asked, hearing her noise.

“There’s a spider in here the size of a fucking Chihuahua.” Her voice was a slightly higher pitch than normal. Steve sighed, any other time her fear of spiders would amuse him. Not now.

“It’s gonna be more scared of you than you are of it.” He tried to placate her, but as he spoke he knew that was utter bullshit.

“ Lawson…I’ve got it…what now?”

“Cut the white wire first and then the red.”

Katie took a deep breath, her hands really where shaking now, and she took a deep breath trying to focus, ignoring the timer which was now counting down from one minute thirty. She reached out with her left to hold the white still and her right clutched the knife as she went to work. The wire was tough but in 3 cuts it was severed. She moved to do the same to the red, but on the third cut the knife slipped and slashed into the palm of her left.

She let out a yell of pain. “Shit”

“Katie?” Steve dropped to his knees, trying to see into the space but all he could see was her back.

“My hand slipped, I’m okay.” She assured him. Taking another breath she took another three slashes at the wire and eventually it gave. The light on the bomb went out and the timer stopped on twenty-five seconds.

“Boom.” She exhaled, her head dropping in relief, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Nice work Nova.” Lawson let out a breath.

Katie swallowed, “Thanks Lawson…errr boys, a little help?”

Steve moved first as she shuffled backwards and managed to get one strong arm round her waist and gently she folded herself up so that he could lift her out.

“You alright?” He asked and she nodded, breathing heavily, but he could see from the tears in her eyes she wasn’t. Before he could say anything, Clint had pulled her into a hug as Steve instructed the team to move in for extraction of the weapons.

“Thanks Nova.” Clint said as she stepped back.

Steve gently moved towards her and turned her to face him, “It’s okay, Doll, you did it.”

“Guess I did.” Katie’s breathing was still deep as the magnitude of what just happened overwhelmed her. She began to shake and Steve simply wrapped her in his large arms and she pressed her face into his Kevlar clad chest and he rest his chin on her head, looking at Clint who gave him a little jerk of the head, before he wandered out into the corridor to find the team.

Steve pulled back and gently took her hand, looking at the place her knife had gashed through the leather on her palm gloves. It looked fairly superficial, the leather having protected her in the main “That doesn’t look too deep but we’ll get the medic to look at it.”

Katie couldn’t feel it. She was numb, numb from how close that bomb had been from going up.

“Seconds…” she said, swallowing “Seconds, that’s it, we were seconds away from going up.”

“Hey…” Steve moved back slightly so he could look at his girl. “That doesn’t matter now, you stopped it. Everyone’s okay.”

The blood was pounding in her ears as she looked up at his helmet clad face, his eyes warm as they locked onto hers. She was starting to lose it, and if she didn’t find a way to ground herself she knew she was going to break down into sobs, and she didn’t want that. Not on a mission. Steve watched as she reached up to undo the clasp at the side of his chin strap and before he could say anything, although he really didn’t have anything to say, she’d pulled his helmet off. She looked at him, hair tousled, bottom half of his face slightly grubby compared to the top.

“Baby,” he said quietly but his words died as she ran her non-injured hand up the side of his jaw and then leaned up, catching his lips, hand on the back of his neck. Steve was surprised, but didn’t push her away, he never could. His arms instinctively pulled her closer as he kissed her back, everything else zoning out, until they heard footsteps and a voice which was slightly amused.

“Ok, nothing to see here.” Clint spoke. Steve instantly pulled back and looked over Katie’s head at the assembled team of STRIKE agents, Rumlow, Rollins, Evans and Nat stood at the front. Rumlow’s face was a picture and Steve, despite the fact he was kind of embarrassed about being caught snogging his girl in the middle of a mission, felt a smug sense of satisfaction.

My girl, asshole.

“Told you Rumlow.” Rollins was next to speak as Katie closed her eyes and pressed her forehead into Steve’s chest, the moment of adrenaline fuelled passion ebbed away and was replaced by a sudden worry of her effectively outing them without asking him first.

“Fuck me sideways.” Rumlow muttered “Didn’t see that one coming.”

“Rumlow, you’re an idiot.” Lawson’s voice hit their ears “I aint even there and even I could see that a mile off. Mate, Fury only has one eye and I bet he could see it all the way from DC.”

Steve let out an exasperated sigh, but his arms didn’t let go of his precious charge as he issued an instruction. “Alright, wrap it up. Let’s get those weapons and move it out.”

His grip on Katie released as the team bustled into the room and he stopped to pick up both their helmets, handing Katie hers.

“I’m sorry…” she stuttered. “I didn’t mean to do that, I didn’t know they’d see.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay.” He spoke gently, brushing her face with his gloved palm

“You’re not mad?”

“No.” He shook his head as she took her helmet off him with an air of surprise. “I mean they had to find out eventually, right. Maybe it isn’t exactly how I would have chosen to do it but…”

Katie snorted “Better or worse than being caught in the kitchen?”

He gave a small laugh “Undecided. Come on, let’s help them pack up those weapons and we can go home.”

******

The two of them were careful to keep a distance for the rest of the mission and trip home, a professional front was imperative to Steve and Katie was also keen to keep it that way too. She didn’t want anyone saying that either of them were impartial or unable to keep themselves objective. That said, on the flight home they took the inevitable teasing that naturally was always going to come their way when the team found out that its Captain and Sniper were together on the chin. It was all well natured though, and there were no smutty remarks beyond Evans asking Katie if she’d had her bed reinforced now she was sharing it with a super-soldier. In response, she hit him square in the face with a well-aimed granola bar, as Steve flushed at the back of the jet when he overheard. The Captain’s sharp eyes, however, clocked that one person who wasn’t joining in the joking and teasing was Rumlow. He looked like he’d been slapped in the face, and all Steve could do was hope he wasn’t going to be a complete prick going forward.

At the debrief Fury was pleased they had gotten a result and surprised the entire team by handing Steve a wad of notes and instructing them to go celebrate a job well done, but the wink he gave the Captain as he left the room before looking at Katie in that way he did, with a smirk on his face left them both in no uncertainty that he knew what had gone down.

The team hit their favoured bar, Loris. Katie and Steve sat together, Steve casually resting his arm round the back of the bench they sat on, as the drinks flowed, food arrived and Clint and Rumlow organised a pool tournament. Pool was one thing, along with art, that Steve had been pretty good at before he got the serum so after a bit of coaxing he joined in, eventually winning after thrashing Lawson in the final. Declining the money, he told Clint to use it to get the team another round of drinks, but they were drinks he had no intention of partaking in. He wanted to take his girl home because he could tell she was still a little shaken from the day’s events.

He wasn’t wrong. Whilst she had sat and eaten and drinking, she wasn’t really listening. The sight of that bomb timer in front of her eyes, and that fucking spider… she gave an involuntary shudder and looked up to see the tournament was now over and Steve was making his way to the table she was sat at, Natasha nodding to him as she headed to the bar.

He dropped onto the seat next to her, leaned forward and whispered “Wanna get out of here?”

She looked around, glancing over at the bar where Rumlow and Rollins were chatting up a group of girls. Clint and Natasha were sat a few seats down, in discussion with Lawson about something whilst Evans was leaning on the bar talking to a few of the other STRIKE team. She nodded. Steve stood up, took her hand and pulled her off the bench, the pair of them making their exit quickly and quietly, jumping into a perfectly timed free cab.

They sat in silence, his thumb skating over the back of her knuckles on the short ride home, his hand releasing hers only when he had to pay the driver. He caught up with her inside the lobby, just as the elevator door was opening and he stepped in behind her, her breath catching as he dropped his head, nose nuzzling into the side of her neck below her ear before he placed a single, soft kiss on her neck. Her arousal was obvious as she bit her bottom lip and let her eyes fall closed as his lips grazed her neck a bit higher. Then higher still until they placed a chaste kiss on her jawline, and that was all she could take.

She turned round, eyes dark with lust and lips met his gently at first before the kiss grew more urgent and she brought her hands up to his face, sliding them back to tangle her fingers into his hair. The way she did that set every one of his nerves on edge and he found himself pressing closer and moved quickly so that he had her pinned against the metal wall of the elevator. His left hand gripped her hip tight, his right winding its way into her hair giving a gentle tug as he pressed his lips against hers, causing the kiss to deepen, a small whimper escaping her mouth. The doors opened to the elevator, and the two of them stumbled out, lips locked, her hands clawing at his hair still, the pair groaning as they went.

His lips started to stray, kissing the corners of her mouth, dipping down to her jaw and neck but she always pulled his face back to hers, kissing him encouragingly, and he knew there and then that there was only one way this was going to end. Which right now was absolutely fine with him, but he needed to know it was with her too. He pulled away and looked down at her, his eyes bouncing between hers.

“You sure?” He whispered, wetting his lips slightly.

“Stevie…” she replied, her voice barely audible over her deep breathing. “Shut up and take me to bed.”

And he knew then he was a goner.

He surged forward again, spinning them both round, pinning her to the panel in the wall which hid the closed elevator doors with his body. His mouth trailed down to her neck, softly kissing, drawing a sigh from her at the sensation as he continued to skate his mouth gently across her collarbone which was exposed on one side due to the slouching top she was wearing. His hands reached down to her thighs and he effortlessly hoisted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, nuzzling into his neck before kissing across his jawline and his cheek as he carried her across the apartment and up the stairs. He was aware vaguely of two small thuds as she shucked off her boots as they went, before he reached the bedroom his lips back on hers, urgently kissing her as he carried her inside, kicking the door shut before he crossed the room and gently fell forwards, depositing them both onto the bed.

His lips claimed hers again, a moan of his own escaping into her mouth and his hands strayed to the bottom of her top. She nodded eagerly, hands going to run through his hair, before she shifted and held her arms up so that he could pull the top over her head. He tossed it to the floor as she reached for his before he pulled back, allowing her to slide it up and over his head, both of them smiling into the kiss as he settled back down on top of her, his hand running up the side of her torso.

She pulled away from him this time and he watched as her eyes followed her hands downwards before she looked back up at him as her fingers gently grazed his stomach, lingering there before moving down to his jeans. He bucked at the touch as she slowly undid his belt, taking her time as she locked her eyes onto his again, lust had turned into softness as she looked at him. He stared right back at her, her eyes reminding him of emeralds, deep green, speckled with dots of brown, the slight ring of amber surrounding her pupil reminded him of the sun. Telling him of the power she exuded over him and the warmth she brought to his life.

He was aware that his breathing had quickened and he let out a low growl before he kissed her, harder and his hands moved down to her jeans, deftly undoing the button at the front. He moved, pulling them down in one go over her legs before he stood slightly, ridding himself of his, the sensation of finally being free was a God send. Katie sat up, eyes trained on him and he swallowed thickly as she undid her bra. He took a second to take her in, he loved her tits, he’d always had a thing for a good “rack” as Bucky put it, and she was a sight to behold. All soft pink curves and rose bud nipples. He was achingly hard now, and he needed to do something about it. In a flash he was on her again, mouth hungrily covered hers as his hands trailed up her legs, to her hips, up the side of her body and then onto her breasts teasing gently. She groaned, rolling her head back on the pillow at the sensation, her hips bucking upwards.

“Fuck.” He seethed out at the feeling of her grinding up against his rock hard crotch, and he nuzzled at her neck with his nose again. She dragged her fingers up his spine as he buried his face in the side of her neck working at the pulse spot beneath her ear, the little noises of pleasure she was making were music in his ear. Her hips moved again and he decided to help her out, his hand moving down and dropping below the waistband of her panties making her gasp as his fingers worked her. She was warm, wet, and he loved the fact he had this effect on her.

Her hips began to move in time with his motions, groans falling from her lips at the sensations lancing through her body as he nipped slightly at her neck and then moved his mouth to her chest, taking her right nipple in. Her groans were growing louder now and Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to be in her, surrounded by her, feel her. His hands both shot to the side of her panties, completely forgetting his strength and he heard them tear. He dropped his forehead onto her sternum, letting out a groan at his stupidity before he heard a laugh, his head shooting up in surprise at the fact she found it funny.

“I’m sorry…” he blurted out as she continued to giggle.

“You literally just ripped my pants off”

“Guess I forgot my own strength.” he offered as explanation, looking at her, an apologetic look on his face.

“You know they were Victoria Secrets?” She quipped, looking at him. Steve had no idea what that meant, but he assumed it was some kind of expensive lingerie shop. A sudden joke popped into his head and before he could stop himself he shot it out.

“Sucks to be Victoria then.” and this made her laugh even more.

Eventually their laughter died down, and they shared another quick glance, and then her lips were back on his, still smiling as she flipped the waistband of his boxers down, and he shimmied out of them, before settling into the space in between her hips. She moved underneath him, telling him exactly what she wanted and he was so ready to oblige. He kissed her hard, his right hand tangling into her left as she reached down with her right, grasping him in her hand causing him to hiss slightly. She guided him to where she wanted him and he gently pushed into her. The feeling caused both of them to gasp and groan, Katie leaning back against the pillows as he stretched her, his girth and length filling her completely.

“God,” Steve breathed, temporarily paralysed by the way her tightness gripped him. His arms shook and he dropped down to his elbows, the hand around hers tightening as his entire body felt coiled tight like snake ready to strike.

The stillness gave Katie time to adjust to his size, but one she had she was aching for him to move, needing to feel him. She whimpered a little, her fingers digging into his lower back urging him on. “Stevie, please?”

He started moving his hips, slowly at first, building up speed as he gained more confidence, their hips rubbing together with every thrust. With every rock into her, moans of delight and pure pleasure filled his ear as his head rest in the crook of her neck, every inch of their bodies pressed as close as they could get. When she groaned his name, Stevie, the pet name that sounded so much sweeter coming from her, it was like a hot wire to his groin and he felt the tell-tale heat striking across his lower stomach he groaned again, wanting to hold out longer, wanting to get her there first. He brought his lips back to hers plunging his tongue into her mouth and she dug the tips of her nails into his back and he was completely overwhelmed by her. Not the sex, but her.

“Katie, I’m not sure how long I’m gonna…” He began to try and explain but then groaned again as she pushed up against him, his head dropping slightly as he struggled to fight it.

“Let me see you.” she said, nudging his nose with hers, her voice ragged. “Wanna see you let go baby…”

At her words he groaned and raised his head to look at her, her eyes soft and shining. He managed a few more shallow thrusts before he lost himself, stiffening and groaning as Katie watched him, his lips slightly parted as he bit his bottom lip, and then the eyes that had been locked on hers fluttered shut before he pitched forward to bury his face into her neck.

She held him running a hand through his hair as a final shudder ran down his body, the waves of pleasure finally began to subside. Her own heart was pounding with affection for her man. She didn’t particularly care that she hadn’t gotten off, nor did she care that it hadn’t lasted very long either, but he had made her feel good. He took his time, had tenderly caressed and loved every part of her, had appreciated her in a way no one else had before.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out before he could stop himself, “You didn’t even – I’m sorry.” He said again still kicking himself.

“Steve, stop. Just enjoy the moment. Please.” She whispered, kissing his temple.

Steve sighed as dropped his head to her chest, still inside her, as she ran her hand through his hair and down his neck. He stayed still for a while before he rolled off her and onto his back, pulling her with him so she could lie her head across his chest.

“It doesn’t matter you know” she spoke again, hand running through the soft smattering of dark blond and light brown hair on his chest “It was perfect because I was with you.”

“I just wish it had lasted longer.” he said, her words like a talisman in his chest as he cradled her close.

“It didn’t need to.” she looked up at him and felt her cheeks burning. She wanted to explain to him, exactly how she felt, but wasn’t sure she could find the words. She dropped her gaze from his face and he gently reached out with his spare hand.

“What is it?” HHhe asked, gently reaching out to tilt her face up to look at him.

“Just…no one’s ever made me feel like that, like this before” she said gently, her eyes shining. “You were so soft and gentle and…well I don’t think I’ve ever felt so wanted…” she trailed off, shrugging.

The band tightened across his chest slightly, how could anyone not want her? Gently he dropped a kiss to her lips.

“I like being your first.” he said, and she smiled.

They lay still for a while, his fingers gently combing through her soft hair before an idea suddenly hit him and it made him swallow nervously.

“We err…we didn’t… you know, use any…protection?” he said, stilling and Katie turned her head up to look at him.

“I got that covered, don’t worry…”

“How?” he frowned, confusion filling his features.

“Stuff has moved on since the 40s Steve.” she said, simply.

Her head returned to its spot on his chest and she gave a soft yawn. He dropped a kiss to her head and closed his eyes, pulling her closer, relishing the feel of her skin against his as their legs tangled together, the pair of them satiated and completely at peace

****

He was aware of her moving. He had his face pressed into the back of her hair, breathing in her gorgeous smell, revelling in her warmth and softness as her bare back was pressed to his chest, his arm wrapping around her, laying just under her breasts. It was all he could do not to moan as she untangled herself and he cracked an eye open, watching her bare ass and back as she made her way into the en-suite. Smiling softly through his tiredness he rolled onto his back, one hand straying to his hair as he lay still. Eventually he heard her make her way back into the room and felt the bed dip again. He could feel her eyes on him, simply watching. And it was all he could do to keep the smirk off his face.

“You get a good look?” he mumbled, shifting slightly, voice thick from sleep, eyes still closed.

“Sorry…” she said softly and he felt her finger gently tracing his jaw. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Well he was awake now, her touch igniting that desire once more. He shifted onto his side and cracked one eye open, taking in her appearance. Her long hair was cascading in slightly tangled waves round her face, and she looked absolutely stunning.

“I can think of worse things to wake up to.” he said honestly before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She responded willingly, his hand dropping to her hip before moving to her back and pulling her closer to him, the other arm snaking under her neck and angling her head to deepen the kiss. He rolled her over onto her back, one leg positioning itself between hers and he dropped his lips to her neck, nipping at that magical spot again. She let out a soft moan before she sat up slightly, pushing on his shoulders. It was just a hard enough shove to make him understand she wanted him lay on his back, and he was more than happy to let her take control this time. As she straddled him his hands tangled in her hair, pulling her face down to kiss him and as he did so she reached down between them, taking him in her hand and stroking him into full hardness which didn’t take much. He groaned but didn’t release her mouth as she adjusted position to take him in.

Slowly she slid down onto him, groaning into the kiss as she stayed pressed against him, and she began to work herself on top of him. She was quick to find a rhythm and her mouth fell open against his lips and she let out a shaky moan before sitting up fully.

This was another first for him and the sight of her on top, illuminated by the early morning sun sneaking in through her curtains was divine. He wanted to touch her, so he did, bringing her hands up to run them up her sides until his hands cupped her breasts, thumbs running over her nipples as she let out another moan. As she picked up the pace his hands went to her hips, pulling her down onto him harder, thrusting upwards to meet her for every move she made. She continued to move, quickening, her eyes never leaving his.

“Steve…”she groaned, as he tilted his hips up harder and he let out a groan himself, increasingly determined to get her there this time. As he felt himself beginning to tip over the edge, his hand moved from her hip to stroke at that spot between her legs and that did it. He felt her tense up and tighten around him, crying out loudly and unbridled as she shook. The sight of her coming undone on top of him, her cheeks flushed, lips pink, mouth open in a now silent scream, was simply incredible and quite possibly the single most exquisite thing he had ever seen. All of that, coupled with the force of her heat tightening even more made him lose himself again.

“Fuck, Doll…” the curse fell from his lips as he thrust upwards, before he spilled himself inside her again, the wave of pleasure deeper than anything he’d felt before. Katie collapsed forward onto his chest, her tremors subsided, both of them panting. He held her close, his fingers running up and down her spine as she let out a soft “hum” of contentment and he sat up, wanting to see her face to face. Still cradling her close he pushed the hair that had fallen over her face back behind her ears and she reached up, running her hands through his, causing him to close his eyes at the sensation of her nails on his scalp.

When he opened them again and looked at her something flashed in her eyes as the slight gleam of light through the curtains caught her face. She was looking at him, features soft, almost as if she was seeing him for the first time. His breath quickened slightly and he knew then that he was head over heels in love with her. No one had come close to ever making him feel like this and as he gazed at her, seeing the adoration in her eyes, he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Katie,” he said quietly, almost nervously, as he pulled her closer, his nose rubbing up against hers, “I love you.”

She didn’t hesitate to reply, she didn’t need to. If she was honest she’d loved him now way before they’d even started any of this. So without missing a single beat, she spoke in return as their noses continued their lazy dance, the words coming easily.

“I love you too, Stevie.”

Her reply lit a fire in his chest and he kissed her softly, grinning like a total idiot as she was smiling too, the kisses growing softer and shorter until she pulled away completely, her hand on his cheek, her eyelids heavy. He glanced at the clock, it was little past 6 and they could sleep in today. He had no desire to run, no desire to leave at all, so he set them both and slid a hand under her neck and pulled her to him, chest pressing into her back. He swept her hair to one side and placed a soft kiss on the back of her neck before he pulled the covers back up over them and closed his eyes.

Right there Steve would have challenged any man on the planet to prove they were happier than him.

**** O/S Phobias

Chapter 8

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #katie stark #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #chris evans #chris evans characters

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uswnt-keeper · 3 years

Text

Holiday Surprise

Requested by: @mari-victoria-13

Prompt: can you write lindsey x reader celebrating the holidays w readers family??

This is my SECOND TIME posting this cuz it won’t show up in tags which is very annoying. I hope it does this time. Went a little off the prompt, but that’s what you get if you leave me with little to no detail 😂. Hope you enjoy! Also if anyone knows how to make the post shorter so it says “keep reading” rather than have a whole ass paragraph on my page, please let me know. Thanks, enjoy! 💜Also this is NOT proof read, sorry...

“Finally, the adults turn to open presents,” my brother, Owen, complained standing up from his position on the couch to go search through the presents.

“Hey, you decided to have two cute kids,” I retorted as his wife laughed across from Lindsey and I.

It was Christmas of course and usually it was the cheeriest time of the year, and it still was, but this year I was nervous, very nervous. I had a plan, in fact a very elaborate one to propose to my girlfriend of 4 years, Lindsey.

Lindsey has been a shining light in my life since I met her all of those year ago. I remember being 16 when she was 18, hearing she went pro out of high school. I didn’t know it at the time, but we’d end up meeting for the first time four year later when I was 20. I got my first national team call up and we became attached at the hip. Of course, she had solid relationships with Tobin and Sonnett which 100% threw me off at first, especially because I thought Sonny and Linds were together. But after sometime, she expressed interest, and my oblivious brain didn’t read it right. I didn’t realize what was happening until I got shovel talk by the entire team, I was 21 by then, and confused as hell.

When I finally figure out what the hell they were talking about, it was clear I had no solid plan to ask Lindsey out, and so it became a game of what if’s, the whole team giving me ideas of what to do. I got so overwhelmed by the ideas and what could go wrong that when Lindsey walked in I just asked her... mostly by accident, and since that day we’ve been together.

Yeah, we’ve had some arguments and fights, like any normal relationship does, but we never go to bed angry at one another. We’ve helped each other through a lot, everything really. When my dad passed away 3 years ago, she was there, she lost the championship, I was there. Now, I want to promise her that I’ll be there forever, until death do us part and I can only hope she’ll agree.

We all stacked the presents in front of us which were ours and started to open them, collecting things of course from everyone. I got a nice watch, some jewelry, but I was most excited to see Lindsey’s reaction to the final gift.

“That’s it,” Lindsey said looking around at everyone’s wrapping paper on the floor, of course, everyone was in on this proposal except for Lindsey, I had something extravagant planned, and it would take a few days.

“No, there’s one last thing for you babe,” I said looking at her.

“Where? I don’t see it,” she looked around, unable to find it until she looked at me, holding a small box, wrapped in white and gold, “You’re sneaky, what is it?” She chuckled and I smiled.

“Open it,” I told her, she did, and found a small necklace in there, she seemed shocked, eventually finding the engraving on the back of important dates for us. When we met, our first kiss, when we both moved in together, etc.

“This is beautiful,” she said with a well of tears as she hugged me and I pecked her lips.

“There’s something else in there love,” I said, putting the necklace around her neck as she looked back in the box.

I watch on as she read it, everyone watching the exchange as I gave them a cheeky grin, “An I Owe You?” Lindsey asked and I nodded to the paper again as she started to read it, “Okay, ‘Mrs Lindsey Michelle Horan, I owe you a little trip up to the Delicate Arch’...” she looked at me with a confused face before looking at the paper again, “Oh, ‘You’re final present will be there, ready to pick up on December 31st’ New Years?” I nodded.

“Yep, I got one final thing for you, but it won’t be ready for some time,” I said, “Sorry, I really couldn’t get it in until later,” I smiled.

Obviously that was a complete lie, I had to organize everyone to be on the arch for New Years, which was hard convincing for some as it was gonna be cold. But the New Years fireworks would be perfect to help me out with this proposal, and it would be expensive, but totally worth it. Yeah, I had to get the whole team to fly out here, and Lindsey’s family who were fully on board, and get them up to the arch in time, literally just in time, for the fireworks.

It was a precarious plan, but I felt good about it.

“I have to wait for it?”

I nodded and she groaned, making the room laugh.

“I hate waiting,” she sighed and I chuckled, kissing her cheek.

“I know love, but I promise this is going to be the best present you’ve ever gotten... or at least I hope so.”

It was her time to kiss my cheek now, “I’m sure it’ll be great.”

The days passed by rather quickly, almost so quickly that I wasn’t ready when New Years rolled around. We’d spent a lot of time together, baking cookies with my family, splaying with my twin nephews, and honestly walking around Utah. A lot of that time was spent distracting Lindsey, and Im sure she got suspicious when I left her with my mom for a full day to make sure everything was in place. That was yesterday, December 30th, and that was also the day I picked up the ring.

When I got home that night, I didn’t think Lindsey was too happy with me. I’d gotten home and instead of greeting them rushed upstairs to my moms room where I knew the ring would be safely hidden. I felt bad though, as I’d literally been gone all day preparing, only coming hope around 10:30pm, to a grumpy looking Lindsey and my sleeping mother on the couch.

“Hey,” I said nervously and Lindsey gave me a look as if to tell me to meet her upstairs as she walked off, I sighed, waking my mom up.

“Huh what?” My mom always woke up startled, she always had since my dad died.

“You fell asleep,” I said, “Come on I think its bed time.”

“Where’s Lindsey?”

“Upstairs waiting for me so she can be angry I was gone all day,” I said with a small smile, my mom looked at me concerned, but so waved it off, “She’ll be happy when she get my present tomorrow.”

My mother smiled, “I’m so excited for it Y/N, you’re gonna do great,” She smiled and kissed my cheek as I helped her up. We walked upstairs together in silence, turning off the lights as we went, and I waved her goodbye when she went to her room and I went to mine.

When I walked in the bedroom, Lindsey was there, on the bed, looking at me with a stern face, looking down to her phone when I caught her eyes.

“Hey baby,” I said a little nervous, “You want to brush your teeth with me?”

“I already got ready for bed,” she replied, looking to her phone for a distraction and I sighed, going to get ready on my own.

When I did finally finish getting ready, it was already almost 11, and I slipped into bed next to Lindsey as she had turned away from me, I didn’t like the feeling, we’d always talked about our issues before bed.

“Linds.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry,” I sighed, softly placing my hand on her shoulder, she turned over and I couldn’t help but smile as her drowsy looking face, “I had to go out.”

“And leave me all day?” She pouted, “You’re mom is lovely, don’t get me wrong, I just missed you,” she sighed, turning fully to cuddle into my chest as we got comfortable, I wrapped my arms around her.

“If it’s any consolation, I did it because I needed to make sure your present for tomorrow was perfect, it has to be.”

She opened her eyes to look at me with her icy blues, “That’s what this is all about?” She had a slight smirk on her face and I nodded.

“Trust me, it has to be great.”

“Whatever you say,” she said, “I’m sorry for being mad, I really did just miss you.”

I chuckled, “I missed you too,” I said, a long pause after that before I said, “I could spent the rest of my life with you... like this.”

I could feel her smile against my chest, “I could too.”

And with that, we fell asleep.

timeskip

The next morning had anxiety written all over it, I was nervous and scattered, but pulled myself together in the morning. We laid in of course until around 10, everyone getting out of the house before we got up as planned.

My mother would take the ring up to the mountain so I wouldn’t be caught with it. I got up first, leaving Lindsey to sleep a little longer, I went downstairs and made breakfast, avocado toast, eggs, coffee, her favorite.

“Whats all this?” I looked up to find Lindsey, already gotten ready for the day, standing at the bottom of the stairs, “Where is everyone?”

“Part of the gift,” I said, as she sat down at the dining table, “They all wanted to go shopping apparently and I didn’t want to get you up.”

“Thanks baby,” she said, pecking my lips before we did go to our food.

After breakfast Lindsey cleaned up while I got ready. When I came downstairs, I was excited to start dragging Lindsey into the day, almost overly excited.

“You ready?” I asked.

“For what?” She laughed as she looked up from her phone, her dazzling smile and cute laugh almost making me pass out completely.

“You really are so beautiful you know,” I said dopy, as she stood up, I pulled her into a tight hug, and she pulled back, scattering kisses on my face that made me laugh.

“Stop, it tickles!” I giggled and she laughed again as we embraced, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said head on my shoulder, “So... what are we doing today? This is the ist I’ve seen you plan for anything.”

“I know,” I laughed, “All you have to do is follow,” I smiled.

“Oh god,” she laughed, “Is this gonna be a mess?”

“I hope not,” I smiled, pulling her to the front door, “Now come on, let’s go!”

Our first stop was the ice rink at the mall, I hated ice skating, but Lindsey was a Colorado native who adored these winter sports. I didn’t want to rent the whole rink because I felt like that’d give the proposal away, and anyway, it was a good excuse to get to the next activity when it got crowded.

We skated for at least an hour and a half, and I never got use to it, fumbling and falling over my own feet as Lindsey skated right by, laughing as she watched me absolutely bomb.

“Okay, as much as I love skating, I love you more and cannot watch you face plant on the ice anymore,” she laughed as she hoisted me up from the ground.

“Thank god,” I mumbled as we got off the ice, thanking the front desk before leaving.

“What next muestro,” she asked and I chuckled.

“You’ll see,” I replied.

Our next stop was the Red Butte Garden, a beautiful garden with many types of evergreens and flowers, mostly inside greenhouses due to the cold weather. But it was beautiful, and after buying some hot chocolate, we were able to spent hours in there looking around. I found ways to sneak around a bit, going to the bathroom at one point just to check everyone was almost in place.

Lindsey and I spent hours in that garden, something she just adored. After that we went to go get churros before heading home to watch a movie or two before we’d head to the mountain trail.

By the time the second movie was over, I stood up, “One last thing babe.”

“It’s almost midnight, what else could you possibly have?” She asked with a laugh.

“I know your tired, but I need you to get on some really warm clothes and then put this blindfold on.

“A blindfold?” She asked as I tossed it at her, “That’s a little weird,” she smirked and I rolled my eyes.

“We’re going out Linds, don’t get any ideas, trust me okay.”

She sighed, “I’m tired, but now I’m interested, I’ll bite.”

“Okay, it’s literally a two minute walk, just trust me okay,” I said.

“I’ve been doing that up to this point so I might as well,” she laughed and I kissed her cheek, holding her hand as I guided her up the mountain, it was perfect, 10 to 12.

I was so happy to see the whole team on the mountain, both Lindsey’s family and mine standing there too in coats and warm clothing.

“You warm enough babe?” I asked as we got to the top, me waving at everyone with a huge smile, this was successful as far as I was concerned.

“Yeah, can I take it off now?” She asked.

“Yeah go ahead,” I said, and she did, of course she was facing the arch looming out to the moonlight.

“Wow,” she said breathlessly, “This is beautiful,” she said.

“Turn around,” I said next to her.

“Hmmm?” She asked confused.

“Look behind you,” I whispered, she did, gasping.

“OH MY GOD,” she yelled and everyone laughed.

She kissed my lips before running around to greet everyone, we managed to get around everyone until Ashlyn stood on a rock to count us down to midnight. We all had champagne in our hands, ready for the new year.

I stood there with Lindsey, my mother passing behind my back and dripping the ring in my back pocket. We looked out from the arch towards the night sky.

“3...2...1... HAPPY NEW YEAR!” We yelled, I pulled Lindsey in for a kiss, the fireworks sparking just at the right moment and as we pulled apart she smiled, I leaned in close.

“Look at the fireworks,” I said, backing up behind her and finally being able to do what I’d planned for weeks.

“Will,” she read with the first boom, cameras clicking and recording, “You,” she read next, still not getting it until the last boom, “marry me.”

“Linds,” I said and she spun around, eyes wide as she clasped her hand over her mouth in shock, “Lindsey Michelle Horan. Ive been with you for four years and in that time I’ve realized that I want to be with you for the rest of my life, through thick and thin, good times and bad. I want to watch us grow, I want to be with you and only you. And so now I’m asking, if you, Lindsey, will marry me?”

I looked at her waiting, and through tears and a gasps she managed to respond, “Yes,” she replied, coming over as I slipped the ring on her finger, standing up and wrapping her in a hug, pushing our lips together amongst the wolf whistles and cheers.

“This was the present?” She asked wiping tears away and I nodded, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” I smiled, tearing up myself.

“And you were all in on this?!” She yelled at them, gaining laughs from them as they nodded.

“Nice holiday surprise then huh?” I asked.

“The best,” she smiled.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #lindsey horan

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