#I HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD YEAR TOO AVERY!!

[nervocat]

WAIT WAIT ITS YOUR BIRTHDAY TODAY???? OMG HAPPY 16TH NERVOOO!!! i hope you have an amazing day & a wonderful year 🎉🎉🥳🥳🥳

(i know it’s probably not jan 1st for you yet but it is for me so im sending this in advance HAHA)

TY AVIEEE OMG AND YES IT'S MY BIRTHDAY I'm celebrating with my friends and family early today for it and a couple friends are staying the night so ^_^

[moremaybank]

Any Dad!JJ? You’re just one of the best at writing him.

dad!jj for the soul !!!!! i hope you enjoy, angel! i really enjoyed writing this one! 🤍

jj's elated when he sees his six year old babygirl, avery, walking out of her classroom. it's three-thirty on the dot, a time jj looks forward to daily when he picks up your daughter and takes her to work with him while they wait for you to meet them there after work.

avery reaches him, and he crouches down to her height so he can press a kiss to her cheek. "hi, babygirl."

"hi, daddy!"

he loves how chipper his little girl gets when she's around him. she lets it be known that she adores his presence, and that's what he's always dreamed of as a parent.

"mama killed it on your hair today," he says. he yanks gently at one of the braids you'd put into her hair earlier this morning. "look at these. phew. think my babygirl's a model."

she giggles at her father's affectionate words, cheeks heating with love. her squeals grow louder when jj scoops her up and makes his way to his truck. he buckles her into her booster seat, ruffling up the top of her hair playfully before shutting the door and getting into the driver's seat.

"hey, daddy?"

"'sup, aves?" he asks, pulling out of the parking lot and starting on the journey to the auto shop.

"what colours do boys like best?"

he arches a brow. "what d'ya mean, sweet girl?"

"dunno...like what colour do you like most on mama?"

"hmmm," jj says, pondering out loud. "that's a hard one, baby. i think your mama looks good in everythin'."

an adorable huff escapes her pursed lips. "daddy. 'm serious. you have to pick one."

the truck zooms down the road, passing by avery's favourite fast food joint. jj can't help but speed up just a smidge, hoping and praying that she won't look out the window and wrangle a chicken finger combo out of him. 'cause then he'd have to get one for her. he's never said no to his princess and he doesn't plan on changing that any time soon.

"mm, i guess i'd say red. i like when she wears that matching lipstick too."

jj looks up at the rear view mirror, catching the way avery nods before a presumable heat takes over her face. the dimple she'd gotten from him peeks through as she smiles to herself.

"what're you smilin' about?"

"nothing, daddy. i just think i'm gonna wear red for the dance tomorrow."

he arches a brow, but he doesn't push her on her answer. "whatever you want, babygirl."

˖ . ݁ 𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

jj hears the click-clacking of high heels against the floors of the auto-shop, and he doesn't need to wheel out from underneath the station wagon he's working on to know it's you.

"hi, mommy!" avery greets cheerfully, getting off the spinning chair jj had secured for her from the break room. she runs over to you as quickly as her smaller feet can manage, and you meet her with an equally thrilled grin. you pick her up and squeeze her into a tight hug.

"hi, baby." you smooth down some of her frizz. "how was school?"

"it was good. chrissy shared her chocolate bar with me, and kyle gave me a flower at recess."

neither of you can see it, but jj makes a face under the car.

kyle? who the fuck was kyle?

"he's a good best friend to you, baby," you tell her. "did you thank him?"

"yes. and he's not my best friend anymore, mama. he's my boyfriend."

this time, you do see jj's reaction. or, rather, hear it anyway.

"what?!"

something that sounds like a bang rings through the air, followed by a shit (to which your daughter snickers, always one to find her father hilarious). then, he rolls out from beneath the vehicle, rubbing his forehead to ease the sharp pain. his eyes find your daughter's, though, and he's as stern as you've ever seen him.

"aves— you can't have a boyfriend!"

"daddy, i'm six. i'm not a baby," avery reminds him, sounding every bit like a teenager instead of her actual age. the sass never failed to make you smile.

just like her daddy.

"yes, you are still a baby! my baby!"

"j—" you interject.

"nah. nope. no way."

"why don't you go back over there and colour, angel?" she nods, and you set her down, watching as she runs back to her chair. she takes a sip of her apple juice, bringing her attention back to her artwork.

deciding she's not at all bothered by jj's theatrics, you walk over to him and help him stand. you look up into his cerulean eyes when he towers above you. "babe, relax. she's six."

"exactly! she's a baby! she can't have a boyfriend. s'just not happenin'."

you give him a knowing smile, your arms looping around the back of his neck. "you were my boyfriend when we were six," you remind him. "don't think you found anything wrong about that back then."

he frowns, but pulls you in closer by your hips anyway. no matter what, any time he's around you without touching you, it just seems like a waste.

"that's different. i was a nice boy."

you both realize avery's been listening quietly when she chimes in. "kyle's nice too, daddy. he kisses my cheek everyday at the end of school."

she says it like it's a fact. like kyle never misses out on what infuriatingly sounds like a tradition to jj.

jj thinks he's having a stroke.

"he's puttin' his lips on you, now?!" his forehead falls to your shoulder, and he slumps against you like the six-foot baby he is. "oh god, i think i'm gonna be sick." a beat passes, and then he distances himself from you. the sulk is still prominent on his face, and now, it's probably permanent. he pulls at his collar, shifting uncomfortably as he tries to fan himself off. "'m i sweating?"

avery hops down from her chair, strutting over to her father and tugging at the leg of his coveralls, silently requesting that he crouch down to her height. of course, jj immediately falls in line.

"don't be mad, daddy."

"wait, wait, wait— is kyle the reason you're wearin' red tomorrow?!"

"don't worry, daddy." she pats his cheek like he's the one who needs reassurance. to be fair, he clearly is. "kyle's nice. just like you."

and with that, she trots off back to her chair with a cheshire cat smile, clearly feeling accomplished.

"yeah. he better be," jj mutters bitterly, standing back up.

your hands reach out to grab a hold of your husband again, and it draws his attention back to you. your hands frame his face and you give him a smile. "you're gonna be a total nightmare when she grows up and gets a boyfriend or girlfriend for real."

"damn right, i will. like i said, she's my baby."

you raise a brow. "i thought i was your baby?"

his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and then his mouth forms into a smirk. "see now, she's my baby. but you're my baby." his hands migrate down to your ass and he gives you a squeeze. "you pickin' up what i'm puttin' down?"

"oh, i think i am."

concepts ; concepts (ii)

[wendichester]

hello!! i hope you're good and having a great day 🤍 i was wondering if you could write about how might possibly would dean and sam would react coming back to the bunker and being greeted by their senior dog (because senior dogs are awesome and i think they deserve more acknowledgement)? and the dog being the king/queen of the house or bunker in this case 👑 (maybe this dog was the only thing they could physically keep from their dad, idk just an idea) if it is okay for you and if you like the idea ofc 🫶🏻

also is it too obvious i am a dog person? hehe

་༘࿐ bunker's guardian,

summary. sam and dean come home to their trusty four legged bestie

pairing. sam winchester + dean winchester + senior doggo

wordcount. 445

notes. ma'am i love dogs and this was a pleasure to write 🐾

The bunker door creaks open, and Dean steps inside first, his boots heavy on the concrete floor. Sam follows, his arms full of grocery bags, and they’re both exhausted—another long hunt, another close call. But the moment they cross the threshold, the air shifts.

A soft thud echoes down the hallway, followed by the slow, deliberate click of nails on the floor. Dean freezes, his hand instinctively reaching for the knife at his side, but Sam just smiles.

“Relax,” Sam says, setting the bags down. “It’s just the queen of the castle.”

And then she appears—Roxy, their senior German Shepherd, her muzzle gray and her steps a little slower than they used to be. But her tail wags with the same enthusiasm as the day they found her, all those years ago, a scrappy little pup John Winchester had brought home after a hunt. She was supposed to be a guard dog, but she’d quickly become so much more.

“Hey, old girl,” Dean says, his voice softening as he crouches down. Roxy hobbles over to him, her tail wagging so hard her whole body sways, and Dean scratches behind her ears like he’s done a thousand times before.

“Missed us, huh?” Dean murmurs, and Roxy responds by licking his face, her breath warm and a little stinky, but Dean doesn’t care. He laughs, a real, genuine laugh, and it’s a sound Sam hasn’t heard in weeks.

Sam kneels beside them, running a hand over Roxy’s back. Her fur is thinner now, her frame a little bonier, but she’s still the same dog who used to sleep at the foot of his bed, who’d bark at nothing in the middle of the night. She’s the last living piece of their dad they have left, and she’s more than just a dog. She’s family.

“You been holding down the fort, Roxy?” Sam asks, and she turns to him, her brown eyes bright and full of love. She nudges his hand with her nose, demanding more pets, and Sam obliges, his smile widening.

Dean stands, brushing off his jeans, and Roxy follows him, her tail still wagging. She’s slower now, but she keeps up, her eyes never leaving him as he walks to the kitchen.

“You spoil her,” Sam says, watching as Dean pulls a treat from the cabinet and tosses it to her. Roxy catches it mid-air, and Dean grins.

“Damn right I do,” Dean says. “She’s earned it.”

And she has. Roxy’s been through it all with them—the hunts, the losses, the late nights and early mornings. She’s been their constant, their comfort, their reminder that some things, no matter how broken, can still be good.

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[jetblack4realz]

vanilla - bradley "rooster" bradshaw

okay, i'm just kinda posting drafts right now to get them out of here even though i don't really love them, so enjoy ig

summary - your dates never seem to take you wanting to go slow very well, but bradley is always there to make sure you're okay

inspired by "vanilla" by avery anna

warnings - TW - unwanted touching, harassment

word count - 2.1k

______________________________________________________________

when hangman caught rooster's arm, he instinctively pulled away with a roll of his eyes before spotting the worried look in his eyes. the mustached man furrowed his brows.

"what?"

jake nodded down the bar to where you had entered with a man neither of the two aviators had met before. you had told them you were bringing a guy down to the hard deck after your first deck, hoping to familiarize him with the group. as far as they knew, you really liked him. he was a friend of your brother's who you ran into as you were grabbing the daggers some coffee and supposedly you hit it off.

"i think it's going good," you mumbled to phoenix with a smile as you wrapped an arm around her, leaning back on the pool table with a beer in your free hand. "guys, this is jeremy. jeremy, these are my navy friends."

"you fly with her?" jeremy asked as he came to your side, pulling you away from phoenix and into his own side.

"every day," phoenix said with a smile, brows knitted slightly as she stood and crossed to where bob was standing with rooster and fanboy. "i'm phoenix."

"that's bob," you pointed with a smile. "fanboy, payback, coyote, hangman," you paused, settling your eyes on bradley with a softer smile, "and rooster."

"how long have you known dash?" hangman asked, crossing his arms in the same fashion as bradley and coyote.

"my callsign," you told him with a short laugh. he nodded, humming.

"i've known y/n for a few years. we go back," he answered.

"that's funny, she's never mentioned you before," rooster told him, standing straighter as he stared at the man pointedly.

jeremy met his stare, hand tightening around your waist.

"come on baby, let's go dance," he said, lips by your ear as his hand slid around your waist to your hand in a sultry manner. you stood quickly, stepping away from him slightly.

"i think we're gonna go dance," you said, setting your beer to the side. you threw hangman a teasing look as you continued, "don't change the music."

"no promises," he laughed, his hands up.

"it was good to meet you," bob said politely as jeremy pulled you away to the dance floor.

"yeah, you too," he said shortly, fully aware of the aviators' eyes on him as he dragged you off.

"i don't like him," rooster said as he watched the man's hands wander your body.

"i don't think you've ever liked a guy dash has gone out with," phoenix said.

"i really don't like him," rooster answered.

"can't imagine why," hangman said, standing next to his friend, brows furrowed in a similar fashion. "i don't like him either."

when you reached the dance floor, jeremy's hands were immediately on your waist, sliding up and down your hips as he entered your space again, lips on your ear. "what was that rooster guy going on about?"

"me and rooster grew up together," you told him hesitantly, stepping backward only for him to pull you in tighter. "i've known him my whole life."

"oh," jeremy said, turning to watch the man. bradley's eyes were already on the two of you, arms crossed over his chest. "and the rest of them?"

"went to flight school together and now we're a squad," you answered. "known them since i was twenty-four."

"been a while," he mused.

"yeah," you agreed, eyes flashing around the building as he pressed his lower body into yours, pulling you firmly against him.

"we got a lot to make up for then," he whispered, kissing your neck, then collarbone.

"jeremy," you said sharply, pushing him away. "stop. i thought we were gonna dance."

"oh come on baby," he said, pulling you back. you turned to catch bradley's eyes, but he was already making his way towards you. jeremy's hands were quickly approaching your chest, one hand firmly on your bottom to keep you against him.

"jeremy, stop," you said.

"don't be so vanilla baby."

vanilla.

--

bradley didn't like it when you went on first dates. it wasn't often that you did, which only made it worse. it always worried him - you barely knew the guy and yet you were supposed to spend the evening with him alone? he couldn't wrap his mind around letting you just go off with this guy. but you would always assure him, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you fixed your hair one last time.

"he's nice," you would insist. "monica said so. and monica rarely has anything good to say about guys."

"okay," he would answer with a nod of his head. "whatever. you know you can call me if you need anything, right?"

you always told him yes, laughed, and insisted he wouldn't be receiving a call. and every single time, he didn't. except for tonight.

"can you come get me?" he could hear the shakiness in your voice, the held back sobs in your throat. "can you come get me, bradley?"

"of course darlin', where are you?" he asked, standing quickly as he slipped on shoes and grabbed his keys, not even bothering to grab a jacket in the middle of winter in south carolina.

"i don't know, he just left me here."

"describe it to me." he started his car, driving out onto the main road that led to most of the usual bars and restaurants used for first dates.

"hold on, i think i see a streetsign. i'm on the corner of... roosevelt and broadway." he took a hard left onto roosevelt, waving a hand in apology to the car he just cut off.

"i'll be there in two, don't hang up," he said. "keep talking to me. what happened?"

you gulped, telling him as little as you could as you recalled the events of the night.

he'd pulled over randomly, just a few minutes before midnight.

"what are you doing?" you laughed. "i've got to be home soon."

"here, come here," he said, grabbing your hand as he climbed into the backseat. you followed hesitantly, following his lead. "look."

he pointed up through the sunroof. "i reckon a little stargazing couldn't hurt."

"that's cute," you said with a smile.

"you're cute," he told you. his eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips, hand coming up to cup the back of your neck. he leaned closer before roughly pressing his lips to yours. you weren't too surprised at first, slightly smiling as you kissed him back.

but, he only got more intense and you quickly realized you weren't back here to stare out the sunroof.

his hand climbed your thigh as he pushed you backwards in an attempt to lay you down. you caught yourself with a hand on the seat, pulling back.

"noah, no," you told him. "i-i'm not comfortable with this."

"oh come on baby," he purred, lips close to yours again. "don't be so vanilla. don't say no."

vanilla is what they called the girls who refused sex, who remained abstinent. and while you didn't know exactly where you fell in there, there was one thing you did know: vanilla girls didn't get hot guys like him. they didn't get any guys at all.

and so you let him push you backwards again, trying to enjoy the feeling of his mouth on yours, but you couldn't focus. the only thing you could focus on was the feeling of his freezing fingers slipping under your shirt and making their way towards your bra. one finger brushed the fabric and you sat up quickly, pushing yourself backwards and away from him, shaking your head.

"please, i don't want to do this tonight. can't we just watch the stars, and, and talk?" you asked. "i like you noah, i do, i just don't want this right now. please."

he sighed, sitting back with a nod. he got out of the car and crossed to your side, opening the door for you. you looked up at him with a confused yet relieved smile.

"get out."

"what?" you asked quickly, face falling.

"get out," he said, his expression lost of all the affection from earlier at dinner. when you didn't move he grabbed your arm and dragged you out roughly. you managed to get to your feet, looking at him with wide eyes.

he scoffed, looking you up and down distastefully. "all you carolina girls are the same - too vanilla."

and then he drove off.

"that son of a bitch," bradley muttered.

he spotted you, pulling up and parking on the side of the street before throwing his door open and sprinting in your direction. he threw his arms around you, pulling away with his hands on your cheeks to examine you carefully.

"are you okay?" he asked.

you nodded slowly, but then your pseudo-smile lowered into a watery frown and you were violently shaking your head 'no'. tears slipped onto your cheeks as you thrust yourself into bradley's arms, the man instantly wrapping you in his hold.

he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "i'm so sorry, i'm so sorry darlin'. i'm never letting this happen again." his voice was a whisper as you cried.

"it was so scary," you whimpered, "i was so scared." his heart broke in that moment, his arms tightening around you.

"i'm so sorry sweetheart," he whispered again, cheek on your head. "i'm so sorry."

--

you pulled him closer to you, earning a smirk, before you effectively kneed him in the groin, causing him to double over in pain.

bradley's hands were on his shoulders holding him upright by the time your fist landed in his jaw. gasps filled the bar as he stumbled back up to his feet, trying to push bradley off but to no avail.

"you bitch!" he cried, earning a punch from bradley this time. he hit the floor again, lip bleeding as he clutched his face.

the bell sounded throughout the bar, penny glaring the man down from behind the counter and waving to the already-advancing aviators. the san diego crowd cheered loudly as hangman and coyote joined bradley's side, grabbing the man under the arms and legs and carrying him out to the door. as they chucked him into the sand, you joined them in the doorway.

"i'm not vanilla, you're just a douchebag!" you yelled after him as he scrambled to his feet.

"if we see you here again, we will personally see to it that you can't be a dick to anyone girl again!" bradley said, coyote snickering next to him.

"'cause he won't have one," he said. jeremy made a quick exit, flipping you off as he tore to his car.

bradley turned to you quickly, hands on your arms as he looked you over. jake and javi took this as their cue to leave, shutting the door behind them on their way back inside.

"are you okay?" he asked before he pulled you into his chest. "i'm so sorry. i promised-"

"nothing happened, you kept your promise," you assured. "thank you for rescuing me."

"i don't think you needed rescuing," he chuckled, holding you snugly  in his arms. "you took care of him."

"i'm a little more capable now," you answered with a shrug and soft smile as you pulled away. your hands found his as you looked up at him. "seriously, thank you. you've always been here and i appreciate you."

"i'd do anything for you darlin," he told you easily. "and i promise you, this won't ever happen again."

"i believe you," you said with a wider smile. "i don't expect you'll be leaving my side anytime soon."

"damn straight. unfortunately for you, that means you're not going on any more dates for a while," he said.

you shrugged. "fine by me. i've come to a rather mind-blowing realization in the last few minutes that makes me have an aversion to dating anymore."

"and what was that realization?" he asked with a breathy laugh, quirking a brow.

"that ever since we met, you've been my standard," you admitted with a shrug and small smile. "and no guy has ever lived up to you."

he didn't know what to say to that, stumbling on his words as he tried to figure out what you'd want to hear.

"you're my best friend, bradley," you said quietly, looking up at him carefully. "and i think over these last fifteen years i've slowly been falling in love with you."

wow. he really didn't know what to do with that. you were in a delicate state, you'd just been molested by your date and he had saved you. maybe this was your way of coping? he didn't know, but he didn't want to take advantage of it.

"are you sure?" he asked carefully. "i mean, a lot just happened y/n. it's okay if-"

"i'm sure," you said resolutely. "it's not just because you threw out the guy groping me. it's because you've always done that. you've always taken care of me and cared for me and made me feel better and i just - it just took to a long time to realize how much that meant to me. how much you mean to me."

"look, you mean the world to me, y/n," he told you. "and that's why i think we should revisit this in a few days. off of the high of things, a bit more sober, and-"

"dammit bradshaw," you muttered, moving forward quickly to grab him by the shirt, dragging him down to meet you lips quickly. you moved one hand to his cheek, giving him a moment to catch up. and he did. he circled a hand around your waist, another in your hair as he kissed you back.

when you pulled away, you grinned at him. "believe me now?"

"i guess," he laughed.

"look, i love that you're responding like this, but please believe me when i tell you that i am in love with you and i have been for years," you said. "and please say it back."

he laughed at your last phrase, thumb brushing you cheek as his smile softened. "of course i'm in love with you too. how could i not?"

"well, apparently i'm pretty vanilla," you laughed.

"taking your sweet time don't make you boring, sweetheart," he told you. "i love it. i love you."

you sighed contentedly as he pulled you into an embrace, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "i love you too, roo."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

thanks for reading! leave a request in the comments or message me privately! i love writing, so if you've got an idea you need fleshed out on paper i'd love to be the one to do that for you

masterlist!!

[wisteria-lodge]

do you think lucius only realize he don't want to be a death eater after voldemort was defeated in the 1st war or even during it?

speaking of what are your thoughts/hc on why narcissa didn't take the dark mark despite her sister and her husband doing it? tbh i always wondered how she could've avoided it? i mean she was part of it right, she was in the meetings too

I always thought it made sense that Draco was a difficult pregnancy.

I say that because Lucius and Narcissa seem like the sort of couple who would have loved more children. Narcissa was close with her sisters before things fell apart, and Lucius was an only child... but he's so social I think that must have been lonely for him. I think he would have loved it if Draco had a younger brother or sister. And the only barrier they'd be dealing with there would be a medical one, so.

(also, I love whenever the the Malfoys and the Weasleys are foils, and the idea of Draco and Ron being born at pretty much the same time - but Ron is one of many, a little neglected, mom is a little disappointed he's not a girl etc. while DRACO is so wanted and so special. That's good stuff.)

I also think that if the Malfoys were dealing with fertility issues, Narcissa suffering, maybe even having a miscarriage - that would have made early-twenties Lucius grow up REAL fast. Because yeah, I do think that when Draco was born - about a year before Voldemort's downfall - Lucius' priorities shifted completely, and he started looking for a way out.

And I say that because Lucius rode the wave of the first war really well, coming out with his money and prestige so intact, which would have taken some planning. Lucius is also one of very few Death Eaters who actually got off using the 'imperius curse' defense. (I think the only other one is Avery.) I like the idea that he did actually plan that. Like - okay. You could have someone you trust (Narcissa, maybe Severus) put the imperius curse on you for a couple months, and that way when you're asked "Were you directed to follow Voldemort's orders under the imperius curse," you can say yes, even if you're under Veritaserum.

(Nott senior also seems to have also come out of the first war basically unscathed, but he also seems much more cautious than Lucius. I'll bet he was very good at making sure that there was never much actual evidence against him. Crabbe and Goyle senior also seem to be doing fine, and I tend to think it's because Lucius got them out (possibly because their wives were close with Narcissa? All three women would have been pregnant at the same time.) Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle are *quite* committed to keeping Draco Malfoy in one piece. I love Draco, but he does spend several books being a little shit with no ability to defend himself, so they do have their work cut out for them.)

I also think a Narcissa who spent the first Voldemort war dealing with pregnancy-related health issues could explain why she doesn't have a Dark Mark, when honestly she really should. Her husband, sister, brother-in-law, underage cousin... they're all getting them. So why was Narcissa skipped (but still allowed to remain in good standing?) I think she she stayed out of the spotlight, using her delicate health as an excuse. And then the second war comes around and she... fades to the background again, makes herself useful, and hopes that the issue never comes up. I don't think she'd say no to a confundus, or even a memory charm if she were really put on the spot.

(but the real, Doylist reason Narcissa doesn't have a Dark Mark is because JKR has a very strong aversion to writing villainous mothers. See: the very odd framing of Merope Gaunt.)

[f4iry-bell]

WISHING ON GRAPES

pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader

summary: grayson's car stopped at a random party where he meets reader.

taglist: @unnoodles @nqds @alwaysthefangirl @clarissaweasley-10 @benny1989fredd @imaseabear @never-enough-novels @elysianwayy77 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07 @cassie6392 @objectinthemiracle @stargirl0479

a/n: hey guys!!! I'm sorry i haven't posted in a while 😭. I'll try to post all the reqs soon, and happy new year!!!

masterlist

Grayson left the small party that Jameson and Avery threw for new year's eve after 20 minutes. He drove around trying not to think about how it felt for him to just stand there all alone while everyone around him had someone. He couldn't take it anymore, he was happy for his brothers for they have found love but when will it be his time?

He was clueless of where he was going, he just drove around wherever the road led. But after sometime he realised that he was low on my petrol. He was hoping to find a station to pump some but it was too late as his car stopped somewhere he didn't know. He decided it would be better to get out, and call someone to pick him up but his eyes were fixed on the place he was. It looked like an entrance of a garden, decorated with fairy lights. He could hear music coming from the inside. It was obvious that there was a party going on inside. But it wasn't like the party that Avery and Jameson had, this one is filled with strangers. Something had pulled him in, his legs started to march forward.

Once he was inside he was immediately the odd one out like always because of his attire which isn't ideal for a new year's eve party. Ignoring that, he made his way towards a table on which drinks were placed, there was no bartender, no bar. No caterers, or anyone to help. He poured himself a drink, it was a bit foreign to him because how the place is just so simple. He was about to move away from the table but he heard a thud followed by an ‘ouch’, crouching down he pulled the table cloth above to find a girl sitting down there holding a box of what looked like grapes with one hand while rubbing her head with another.

“Are you okay down there?” He asked with a frown.

“Yeah, I didn't spill anything above, did I?” She asked, turning to him.

“No, you're good.” He answered, still so confused. Maybe she's anti-social.

“Okay, cool.”

He was quiet for a few seconds before speaking again with a deeper frown. “Pardon me, but why are you sitting under the table?”

She looked at him as if he asked a silly question when she was the one who was sitting under a table at a party. “Box of grapes, 20 minutes until new year, table.” She said that as if it's supposed to make sense.

“I still don't get it.” He admitted.

“Oh my god. Get in here.” She motioned him to get inside.

He didn't move.

“Buddy, you're wasting my time to think about what I want. So get in here, or go away.” Her hand waved inside once more.

Grayson reluctantly got inside, a part of him was curious.

“So?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Well, it's a belief that if you eat 12 grapes at midnight on new year's eve you'll find love, happiness, et cetera. You know? Each grape is for each month of the year.” Her eyes were wide with excitement when she explained it.

“You believe that?” He asked. His immediate thought was that this is another silly thing that people came up with to make new year's eve exciting like the kiss.

“Of course! I mean, it's my first time trying, but we'll see. I have extra grapes you know? You can have some.” She offered him.

“I'm good.” He sighed.

“Well, you're no fun. You're already under the table, it's almost midnight, you have grapes—”

“I don't have grapes.”

“I'm offering you grapes.”

“I don't want it.”

“Just try.”

“Why?”

“Because! Nevermind, stay a loser then.”

Grayson scowled. “Just because I'm not participating in a silly tradition, doesn't mean I'm a loser.”

“It won't hurt you to eat grapes, you know?”

“Fine, I'll have them.”

“YES!!”

He scoffed at her excitement. Before either of them could fill in the awkward silence they heard people counting numbers in descending order from 10.

“It's time!!” She shook the box of grapes.

Grayson couldn't have imagined anything that happened within the last 30 minutes, his car stopping right in front of this party, him finding this strange girl under the table, accepting her grape and certainly not pulling her closer when the chant was ‘5’ and kissing her at ‘1’.

It was unexpected, it was like his body was working on its own without telling him.

When he pulled back, he expected her to push him outside, or take back her offer but she opened the box. “Let's eat before it's late!”

He didn't realise that his heart was racing until it calmed down. He smiled, and grabbed one grape from the box to wish.

[s-rosie]

CRACK AJ HCSSSSSSS

this is my 100 follower specialllll. thank you so much to everyone who follows me i can’t appreciate it more. by popular demand, this is what was requested for me to make. i hope you enjoy 💖

at their wedding, they tossed cake at each others faces (which was already agreed upon) which turned into a massive cake fight and everything got messy but they got the cutest wedding photos out of it

avery once made up a spicy dance and posted it to her private tiktok and jameson had it on repeat for 3 days straight even while he was sleeping

jameson is allergic to lavender, but ave bought him a lavender scented plushie that looked like the one he had as a kid and he didn’t have the heart to tell her so he would just break out in hives and have his eyes water and his throat close up until nash mentioned his allergy in passing so that’s how she found out (she felt so bad but he thought it was a sweet gesture and he didn’t care)

jameson makes up stripper dances and has avery rate them (she in return bought him a push-up bra and a thong so he can look the part 😭)

one time ave cuffed jamie to the bed😏and he pulled so hard on them he broke the headboard of the bed and it came off but avery was too embarrassed to say anything so it was broken for 2 years until jameson finally convinced her to swallow her pride and get it fixed (this is my mandatory aj cuff hc it is my cannon event and can’t be stopped)

at school he would walk avery to class then sprint to his next class bc some of them were far away but he still wanted to walk her to class

he is always third wheeling ave and max bc they are doing a bunch of bestie stuff and he is just there

whenever avery has a perfume on jameson guesses the scent perfectly even if he didn’t know she had that scent in her collection

avery and jamie would cuddle in the back of the library and sometimes avery would fall asleep and jameson would just skip his classes to let her sleep bc he knew she had insomnia issues and would only wake her up when she had classes bc he knows she hates to miss school

he will wrap her up like a burrito in a blanket and cuddle her like that while she non stop giggles

they will make out everywhere especially when they were younger like one time they were invited to the met gala and made out in the bathroom bc it was “kinda boring”

avery calls him good boy and he loves it (i’m sorry) (but you cannot convince me he doesn’t have a praise kink) (or that she doesn’t dom him sometimes and he doesn’t love it)

they love candles and they almost burnt their room down bc they lit like 134 candles in their room for a spa day

i hc that jamie plays electric guitar and avery plays acoustic guitar so when they go against each other in guitar hero they always tie every time and they get so frustrated

they were lyra and graysons d1 wingmen and take full responsibility for them getting together (they helped but weren’t the full reason they started dating)

i really hope you enjoy and thank you so much for all of the support i really can’t stress enough how much you mean to me thank youuuu 💖

[violetvines]

wedding bells are ringing 🔔

summary: it's the day of libby and nash's wedding. libby is getting ready in her room, feeling nervous about walking down the aisle, pre-wedding jitters and all. she hears a knock at her door, and the last person she's expecting is standing on the other side... alisa ortega.

characters: libby grambs, alisa ortega, nash hawthorne

a/n: my first fic! I hope I represented them nicely <3

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

One. Two. Three. Four...

Libby counted her breaths in her head, steadying their rhythm, even if she couldn't seem to steady her erratic heart.

Today was the day. The kind of day she had carelessly dreamt about when she had been a girl. The kind of day she hadn't dared to even think about in recent years, because she didn't believe it would ever happen. She didn't believe this day would ever come.

She was getting married today. She was having a wedding.

It was funny, really, because just the night earlier, she had been laying in bed with Nash, and they had talked about the surreality of the situation. Or, as Nash would put it, a situation that was surreal to her, but very real and very true to him.

"What if it's not everything you dreamed it would be?" She had blurted that out almost immediately after Nash had rebuked her "surreal" statement.

He had proceeded to stare at her in the darkness, fingers still stroking her dark blue hair. "Libs..." he began, "no dream of mine is worth anythin' if you ain't in it."

"You are everything I could ever dream of."

"But-"

"Shhh," he shushed her, "I know what you're going to say. You're going to say that you're afraid because tomorrow, your last name becomes Hawthorne. You're going to say that you're worried you won't be able to live up to that name, and that you'll mess up and somehow cause the whole world to come crashing down."

"But you need to understand this. Tomorrow, I will no longer be just a man – I will be your husband, your sworn protector. And I will be there with you every step of the way to hold your hand. You will not mess up, and the world will not come crashing down, because I will be there. And if you're still doubting it, still thinking that something will go wrong, I will shield you from all their hurtful words and condescending stares."

Libby knew that when Nash pronounced his g's, he was being serious.

"You always think that you make a mess everywhere you go, but I need you to know that you turned my life from a mess to a blessing."

He had then kissed her forehead and she'd remained silent, tears forming in her eyes.

Libby sighed at the memory. Nash had such a way with his words. He always knew what she needed to hear, how to comfort her and be there for her.

She had fallen asleep shortly after that. Still, no amount of talking could change the fact that it was real and it was happening.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door.

"That must be Avery," she thought. Her sister had gone off to meet with the other three Hawthorne brothers, presumably in Nash's room. She hadn't seen him since morning and he wasn't allowed to see her in her dress until the altar. Avery was probably back now, so she was ready to bombard her with questions... if she could get her nerves to calm down.

Libby looked in the long mirror, smoothing down the front of her wedding gown. It was black, matching the glossy dark blue and black colour on her nails. She liked it. The makeup artist had done a great job too, and she felt like a queen. (As she should.)

"Come in!" she called, while opening the door.

The figure outside her door made her freeze. It was Alisa Ortega, better known as her sister's lawyer or her soon-to-be husband's ex-girlfriend.

She and Alisa hadn't always been on good terms, and honestly, she could understand it. Who would want to be friends with their ex's new significant other?

"Nash Hawthorne has never loved anything he didn't leave."

Alisa's words from the past echoed in her ears. Libby curled her fingers into fists. She didn't have time for backhanded remarks or snide comments right now. She needed to calm down because soon, it would be time to walk down the aisle.

Alisa was dressed formally, as if she had just finished a meeting at the law firm. She had an eyebrow raised. Great. "Are you going to invite me in or...?"

Libby stepped aside to let her in, not saying anything just yet. She took another deep breath.

"Look, Alisa, if you're here to talk to me about keeping up appearances later, I got it. I've been going through my vows everyday for the past week - I won't forget them. I've been practising my walk down the aisle with these killer shoes too - I won't fall. Don't you worry, I won't embarrass anyone. Not Avery, not the Hawthornes, not the family's reputation."

Libby hadn't realised that she was panting heavily.

"Oh, and also, please don't make a comment on my unconventional wedding dress. I know you don't approve, but here I am anyway." She spread her arms, displaying herself.

Alisa looked at her carefully. What she said next surprised Libby, and she almost pinched herself awake.

"You look beautiful, Libby."

"Wait... what?"

Alisa sighed. "I said that you look beautiful." She said it so matter-of-factly, like Alisa Ortega was someone who usually dished out compliments like that.

This wasn't the Alisa that Libby knew.

"You can get to it, you know. You can tell me what you came here for."

At that, Alisa gestured for Libby to have a seat.

"I came here to give you something," she began, but paused as Libby snorted.

"By something, do you mean... an NDA? After I marry Nash, I'm practically Hawthorne and I'll know all their secrets." She said, lightheartedly.

How was she joking around with Alisa minutes before her wedding? Then again, it was possible. Alisa didn't like to joke.

Libby waited for a cutting remark, but none came. Alisa only grimaced. Grimaced? Since when did Alisa Ortega grimace?

Why was Alisa acting so weird today? As far as Libby knew, Alisa was over Nash... unless... she wasn't, so that's why she was acting this way. She habitually brought her fingers to her mouth. When she was nervous, she bit her nails.

She didn't manage to do so, because Alisa gently set her hands down. "Hey... we don't want you ruining your nails before the wedding."

"Here, take this." Alisa reached into her pocket and procured a small box, one that could fit in the palm of her hand. Noticing Libby's curiosity, she explained.

"It's a small music box. I thrifted it from somewhere, and I thought you'd like it. The designs at the sides of it are very... gothic." That last word sounded like it troubled her to say it.

Libby laughed with disbelief. "Alisa... you mean to say that you got me a wedding gift?" Her giggling died down, as she was suddenly overcome by an unexplainable feeling. Gratitude? Shock? Wonder? All three?

Alisa shrugged. "It would be rude to attend the wedding without bringing a gift." At that, Libby's mouth fell open. She hadn't thought that Alisa would even set aside time to attend her wedding.

Alisa didn't let her deal with the shock for more than three seconds. "Go ahead and open it."

She did. Her fingers trembled as she wound up the crank.

The first notes played and she immediately noticed that it wasn't just any music. It was wedding music.

"Here Comes The Bride" was playing and the tinkling notes filled the room. As Libby watched, the room shined with a sort of ethereal glow. The music faded, and she turned to watch as Alisa stared at her wistfully.

She could have sworn there was a tiny smile pulling at the corner of her lips. "Thank– thank you." Libby stuttered, because what else could she say? None of this had been expected.

She now expected Alisa to leave but that didn't happen either. "I also wanted to say that I'm happy for you. Truly."

"Everything you said just now made me realise that I haven't been the best person to you, and for that," she took a deep breath, "I'm sorry."

Here was Alisa Ortega opening up. Here was Alisa Ortega apologising to her. Alisa Ortega was apologising to Libby Grambs.

"I wish you and Nash a happy marriage." Libby sat there in silence, still processing her words.

Alisa looked at her wristwatch and caught herself then. "I should be going now. Before things get out of hand down there."

She was at the door when she turned around and said, "you don't have to forgive me. Having you around wasn't the worst, you know? You made life at Hawthorne House happier – I can see it in their faces. When Nash talks about you, he has a sparkle in his eyes, something that was lost long ago. Xander loves your baked goods and I see him popping his head in the kitchen every evening, with hopes that you're there, baking something. Even Grayson and Jameson love having you here."

"You're not an embarrassment, Libby Grambs. You are everything they never knew they needed."

"You're a wonderful sister. And I'm sure you will also make a wonderful wife."

With that, Alisa stepped out of the room, not leaving space for Libby to reply. She didn't need to turn around to know that at that second, Libby had mumbled a million thank-you's, feeling touched at what had just passed between them, diamonds glistening in her eyes.

"You're not half as bad either, Alisa Ortega." She whispered to the empty room, eyes still on the space that Alisa had vacated.

And somehow, she didn't feel nervous anymore.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

"You may now kiss the bride." The priest announced.

Before Nash could pick her up in his arms and plant a kiss on her lips, she scanned the crowd one final time.

There, in the middle of all the chaos, sat Alisa Ortega.

Libby grinned at her, not expecting anything but a small smile back.

She was surprised again, when she was met with the sight of Alisa grinning back. It was the first time she had seen a genuine, happy smile on Alisa Ortega's face.

She hoped it wouldn't be the last.

lace divider by @kodaswrld

[cherryhazee]

Kiss Her You Fool | Luke Hughes

Warnings: Mature language, use of alcohol, and sexual references or implications.

wc: 3.2k

Part 6 of The Art of Loving series

After what felt like the longest road trip of his life, Luke finally found himself back in New Jersey. The comfort of being home didn’t fully sink in as he hauled his bag through his apartment.

He was halfway through unpacking when his phone buzzed in his pocket. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Avery’s name flash across his screen.

Glad you made it back safe. How’s New Jersey treating you so far?

He smiled as he typed a response, his fingers moving quickly.

Feels good to be back. I’ve missed the routine. But I might’ve missed something else too.

He hit send before he could overthink it. The reply came quickly.

Something or someone?

Luke’s heart did a small flip. He couldn’t help but smile, his thoughts turning to the girl who had become, once again after a few years, a quiet but constant presence in his life over the last few months.

Definitely someone.

There was a pause before her next message popped up.

Good answer. So... will I see you at the party next week?

Luke grinned, leaning against a wall. He hadn’t expected to see her this soon, but the thought of spending New Year’s Eve with her made his pulse quicken.

Yeah, I’ll be there. I wasn’t sure if you’d be going.

Her reply came quickly.

The girls kinda roped me in weeks ago. I figured you’d be too tired from the roadtrip for the party.

I wouldn’t miss it.

Before he could slip his phone back into his pocket, another message popped up.

Good. I was hoping to see you :).

Luke felt a warmth spread through him as he typed his next message.

I was hoping to see you too. Counting the days.

He hit send, his heart racing just a little. The anticipation was building, and for the first time all week, he felt a sense of ease settle over him. He couldn’t wait to be with her again.

–

The music pulsed through the room, a blend of bass-heavy beats and laughter from every corner. Luke stood near the bar, sipping his drink with a quiet detachment. He wasn’t much for parties like this, but Jack had insisted he come and Avery would be there. It was New Year’s Eve after all, a night for fresh starts.

Avery stood by the edge of the dance floor, her chestnut hair spilling over her shoulders in loose waves. She wore a sleek black dress, simple yet stunning, paired with golden heels that caught the light as she moved. She was laughing at something one of the guys was saying, her expression bright and unguarded.

Luke froze. His heart did that stupid fluttering thing it always did when he saw her, no matter how much time had passed.

Jack materialized at his side as if summoned by his hesitation. He shot Luke a knowing grin, nudging him with his elbow. “You know, you two are just about the only ones who don’t realize how you look at each other.”

Luke shot him a sidelong glance, not trusting his voice to stay steady. "We’re just friends."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Don’t you get tired of saying that? You two happen to have this... undeniable chemistry every time you’re in the same room." He paused, giving Luke a mischievous look. “Man, I gotta say, it’s getting kinda obvious. Everyone’s talking about it. The girlfriends even have a bet going on.”

Luke felt heat creeping up his neck. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, his gaze flickering back to Avery, who had just spun around to face him, catching his eye for a brief moment, sending him a wink before turning back to the conversation.

“Dude! She painted the fucking sky from the night of your first date.” He definitely shouldn’t have told him that.

”It wasn’t a date” Luke quickly interrupted.

“That’s not the point and you know it” Jack quickly replied. God his brother was totally blind.

Luke opened his mouth to argue, but the words caught in his throat as Avery started making her way toward him, the crowd parting around her. She reached him with a smile, her presence like a sudden warmth.

“Hey,” she said, her voice light but with that familiar undertone that always made Luke's heart skip. “I thought I saw you standing over here looking like you were about to start a nap. Want to join me for a drink?”

Luke swallowed, trying to act casual. “I’m fine, thanks.”

Avery raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking between him and Jack. Was this the same guy who a few days prior had told her he was counting the days to see her again?

“You sure? It’s New Year’s Eve, Luke.”

Jack grinned, leaning in a bit too close. “I think he’s just waiting for the perfect moment to be alone with you.”

Luke shot him a glare, but Avery just laughed, her gaze lingering on him a moment too long. "Alright, well, if you change your mind, I'll be over there," she said, her voice sounding small as she turned back to the crowd.

Luke couldn’t help but watch her walk away, the way she moved effortlessly through the room, her golden heels tapping lightly against the floor. Jack was still beside him, practically vibrating with amusement.

"So," Jack started, "when are you going to admit it?"

Luke didn't answer, not sure what there was to admit. Was it that obvious? Would it be so terrible to just let himself admit that he maybe, kind of... wanted more than friendship?

“Clock’s ticking,” Jack said, leaning close so only Luke could hear. “Gotta make your move before midnight.”

Luke swallowed hard. Midnight was coming, and with it, the promise of a new year. He just had to decide if he was brave enough to take the leap.

–

A couple of hours had passed and Luke was yet to approach Avery. Not even the few drinks he had on him could make him make the move.

The music had only gotten louder and the crowd more energetic, but Luke stood there, nursing his drink, stuck in his own head. The whole party felt like a blur. He kept glancing at Avery, but she was lost in conversation with his friends and teammates, her laughter bright, her smile even wider.

How had they gotten here? So many times, he thought he'd almost said something, but then it was always too late.

Luke couldn’t shake the image of that moment at her apartment, the way her lips had almost brushed his, how the air between them had changed. It felt like a lifetime ago, but in reality, it was only a few weeks. Still, the memory was enough to make his heart ache with longing. The almost kiss. They’d both backed away. He was unsure. What if he messed this up?

The clock on the wall behind him blinked closer to midnight, the seconds ticking away, each one mocking him. The world seemed to be holding its breath. Half an hour til midnight.

Luke watched Avery again. This time, she was glancing over her shoulder, her expression softer, more knowing. Something had shifted. Her gaze lingered, just for a moment longer than it should have.

The seconds kept ticking away.

Luke stepped away from the bar, the weight of his hesitation sinking in deeper. He couldn't stay like this forever. His eyes scanned the room one more time, but before he could dwell on the situation, he found himself moving toward Curtis, who was standing near the champagne table.

“Rusty!” Curtis spotted him almost immediately, his face lighting up with a knowing grin. “You look like a man who’s trying to avoid something,” he said, raising his cup toward him in greeting.

Luke gave a small, strained smile, leaning against the table next to Curtis. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

Curtis cocked his head, clearly curious. “Avoiding something? Or someone?”

Luke looked over at the dance floor where Avery was, her smile so effortlessly magnetic. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I keep thinking about... everything that’s happened. What if I mess this up? We have such an amazing friendship going on…” He hesitated before continuing, “I don’t know if I can just... risk it,” Luke muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, I’ve been avoiding this for so long, and I don’t want to mess things up."

Curtis took a step closer, lowering his voice. “Look, you’ve got something real with her. But if you want more, you’ve got to be willing to risk it. The longer you wait, the harder it’s going to be. She’s not going to just magically know how you feel if you don’t show her.

I’m not saying you need to spill your heart out right this second, but you’ve got to do something, or you’re gonna keep wondering what might’ve been.”

Curtis’s words hung heavy in the air, cutting straight through Luke’s spiral of self-doubt. He knew Curtis was right. Hell, Jack had been saying the same thing for months, teasing him relentlessly about Avery. But hearing it now, in this moment with Avery standing just across the room, radiant and out of reach—it hit differently. More urgently.

Luke exhaled, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. “You’re right. I know you’re right.”

Curtis smirked. “Of course I’m right.”

“No, seriously,” Luke said, straightening up. “I’ve been stuck in my head for months, maybe years, making excuses. I’ve got to—” He glanced across the room toward Avery. “I’ve got to go talk to her.”

Curtis grinned wide, stepping aside with a sweeping gesture. “Then what the hell are you still doing standing here? Go!”

Luke didn’t need to be told twice. His heart pounded as he started weaving through the crowd, eyes locked on Avery. She was still near the dance floor, her laugh floated above the music, bright and familiar pulling him in like a magnet.

Just walk over. It’s not that hard.

Except it was that hard. His mind raced as he made his way through the crowd, replaying their moments together like a film reel on a loop. The late-night conversations. The way she teased him about art. Her smile when she saw him at the rink, bundled up in layers but still radiant. The way she’d looked at him that night in her apartment, their almost-kiss lingering between them.

It wasn’t just a crush anymore. He was in deep.

He moved faster, weaving past clusters of people, but the party seemed determined to work against him.

“Yo, Lukey!”

Luke’s head snapped up, spotting Brett near the bar. His teammate waved him over, his grin wide and sloppy. He was clearly a few drinks in, already flushed from champagne and laughter. “Come do a shot with us, man!”

Luke gave a quick shake of his head, backing away. “Not now. I’ve got… uh, something to do.”

But Brett wasn’t letting him off that easy. He stumbled closer, throwing an arm around Luke’s shoulder. “Come on, it’s New Year’s Eve! You’ve gotta celebrate!”

“I’ll catch you later,” Luke said, prying himself free.

Brett squinted at him, then followed his gaze toward the dance floor. His grin turned knowing. “Ohhh. I see.”

Luke didn’t bother answering. He was already moving again, dodging another group of people passing out noise-makers and party hats. The clock was ticking, each second slipping through his fingers faster than he could catch it.

Each interruption felt like a small eternity, and with every delay, his anxiety climbed higher.

Come on, come on...

But fate seemed intent on making him wait longer.

“Luke!”

Another voice. This time it was Dawson, cutting through the crowd to greet him with a quick bro hug. “Where’ve you been, man? Haven’t seen you all night.”

“I’ve been around,” Luke muttered, already looking past him toward the dance floor. Avery was still there, her head tilted in laughter. Jesper’s fiancee leaned in, saying something to her, but Avery’s gaze drifted, like she was scanning the crowd.

Their eyes met.

Luke froze. For a second, everything else melted away. The noise. The crowd. The distractions.

It was just Avery.

His heart thudded harder with each step, adrenaline coursing through his veins. The party felt like a maze, bodies shifting and moving around him, every second feeling like an eternity.

The countdown clock near the DJ booth read 11:54.

Six minutes.

Luke’s pulse quickened. His fingers flexed at his sides as he made his way toward Avery, his path finally clearing.

Then—

“Champagne?”

A server appeared out of nowhere, thrusting a tray of glasses toward him. Luke blinked, startled, before shaking his head. “No, thanks.”

Finally, after what felt like forever, he broke free from the crowd and reached the edge of the dance floor.

Avery was gone.

Panic flared in his chest.

No. No, no, no!

His eyes darted around the room, scanning for any sign of her. The crowd shifted and swayed with the music, voices growing louder as the countdown drew closer. He spotted Jack near the bar, laughing with a group of friends. Curtis was still at the champagne table, arm draped around his wife's shoulder.

And then—

There she was.

Near the hallway, just outside the bathroom door, Avery stood with her back against the wall, tapping her golden heel softly against the floor. Her back was turned, but he’d recognize her anywhere. The tilt of her head, the way she shifted her weight, the calm patience in her stance as she waited for the bathroom to free up. It was all so distinctly Avery.

Luke exhaled in relief, his chest loosening.

Five minutes.

This was it. No more interruptions. No more waiting.

As he got closer, Avery glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of him out of the corner of her eye. She looked surprised to see him, but there was something else in her expression too, something curious. Something hopeful.

He stopped a few feet from her, nerves bubbling up again. His hands flexed at his sides, sweat gathering in his palms.

“Avery,” he called out softly, his voice cutting through the distant hum of music and chatter from the party.

She turned fully toward him, her eyes locking on his. “Hey.” Her voice was warm, familiar. It steadied him.

Luke stepped closer, feeling the weight of every unsaid word hanging between them. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he said, his voice quieter now, but steady.

Avery tilted her head, studying him with that same calm curiosity she always had. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His pulse raced. Now or never.

The bathroom door opened, and someone slipped past Avery, giving Luke a quick glance before disappearing back into the party. Avery glanced at the door briefly, then back to Luke, a soft laugh escaping her lips.

“Are you cutting the bathroom line, or is this about something else?” she teased lightly, her eyes sparkling.

Luke smiled despite the knot of nerves tightening in his chest. “Something else.”

The crowd in the main room erupted into cheers as the final minutes melted into seconds.

The countdown clock glowed from across the room.

11:59.

The energy shifted, growing more electric, more urgent. But Luke barely noticed. “I don’t want to wait anymore,” he said quietly.

Avery’s expression softened, the teasing edge fading. “Wait for what?”

Luke took another step closer, his heart hammering.

“You.”

The words were out before he could second-guess them. They hung between them, raw and honest. Avery’s lips parted slightly, her eyes widening in surprise.

The countdown began.

“Ten… nine… eight…”

Luke’s breath hitched. The noise around them blurred into static. It was just her.

“I need to tell you something before midnight,” he murmured, his voice low but urgent.

Avery’s gaze never wavered. “Okay,” she said softly. “I’m listening.”

“Seven… six…”

Luke swallowed hard, taking another step closer.

“I—”

“Five… four…”

The crowd cheered, voices rising in unison, but Luke only saw her.

There was no time.

Luke closed the distance between them in one swift motion, his hand brushing her cheek as he leaned in. Avery’s eyes widened for a quick moment before fluttering shut, her breath hitching as their lips met.

It all melted away. The noise of the party, the countdown, the world beyond them.

Her lips were soft, warm. Everything felt like it finally clicked into place. The years of longing, the months of tension, the lingering glances, the almost-kisses—it all led to this.

Avery responded instantly, her hands slipping up to his shoulders as she pressed closer. Luke’s heart pounded in his chest, but all he could focus on was her. How right it felt, how long he’d been waiting for this.

His mind was just screaming her name.

Avery. Avery. Avery.

The crowd behind them erupted into cheers as the clock struck midnight. Confetti burst into the air, streamers flying across the room, but neither of them noticed.

Avery tilted her head, deepening the kiss, her fingers tangling in the nape of his neck twisting his curls. Luke let out a groan, his grip tightening on her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

When the cheers grew louder and people started spilling into the hallway, Luke’s mind snapped back. They needed to move, needed privacy, needed to not have their moment interrupted.

Without breaking the kiss, he gently tugged her toward the bathroom door, pushing it open and pulling them both inside. The door clicked shut behind them, muffling the sounds of the party outside.

Avery broke the kiss for a second, breathless, her eyes searching his.

“Happy New Year?” she whispered, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.

Luke let out a shaky laugh, resting his forehead against hers. “Happy New Year.”

Their lips met again, more urgently this time. Luke backed her against the counter, his hands sliding down to her waist, feeling the fabric of her dress beneath his fingers as he moved it upwards.

He then moved his lips to her neck. Avery tugged him closer, tilting her head back to give him more access.

Luke’s lips brushed her lips before trailing down to her neck, his breath warm against her skin. Avery closed her eyes, her head tilting back to give him more access, a quiet moan escaping her when he nipped gently at her skin.

He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe he’d waited this long.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, Avery traced her fingers along his jaw, her touch soft and grounding.

“I’ve been waiting for you to do that,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Luke laughed softly, shaking his head. “You have no idea.”

She smiled, her eyes shining. “I think I do.”

For a moment, they just stood there, the weight of what had just happened settling between them. The tension that had simmered for months was gone, replaced by something new.

“I guess we missed the countdown,” Luke murmured, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

Avery shrugged, her fingers still tracing slow circles on his chest. “Who needs a countdown anyway?”

Luke leaned in, pressing another kiss to her lips, this time slower, savoring every second.

It was a new year, a fresh start, but neither of them could have imagined what this year had in store.

[haddonfieldwhore]

winter things - matthew tkachuk

matthew tkachuk x gn!reader

summary: your best friend matthew brings you home to celebrate the holidays with his family. their only christmas wish is for the two of you to finally get together

warnings: mentions of drinking, use of y/n like twice? (this is my first time including the whole tkachuk fam in a fic and i’m not super confident with it so please take it easy on me)

i hope you all enjoy the fic! happy holidays🌲♥️❄️

word count: 2.8k

you smiled at the familiar house that came into view as matthew pulled the car into the driveway. you had spent so much time here growing up with the tkachuks that it was almost a second home, welcoming you back with open arms as you stepped out of the car, a thin crust of snow crunching beneath your boots. matthew sniffled as he walked up the driveway next to you, and you laughed, watching as he struggled to carry all of the gifts that he insisted to bring all in one trip from the car.

“calm down, florida. it’s not that cold,” you laughed, careful not to drop the tin of christmas cookies your mitten covered hands held tightly. you and matthew had traveled from the sunshine-state to st.louis, where you had grown up together. whenever you came back to visit, despite all the years he spent living in calgary, it always took him a day to get used to the snow again.

“shut up,” he pouted, but even he couldn’t contain the smile that spread across his lips. even with his hands full of gifts, matthew held the outside door for you, and before you could even raise a hand to knock the inside door opened, revealing taryns smiling face.

“hey! took you guys long enough to get here,” she laughed, and matt sent her a mocking glare. “let me take that from you”, she offered, grabbing the cookie tin from your hands as you and matthew walked inside. you shook off the light dusting of snow that had gathered on your shoulders, before you felt matthews hands slide your jacket off your arms, hanging it up in the closet for you. keith stood up from the couch and walked over to greet the two of you as you dusted a few snowflakes out of matt’s hair. keith embraced his eldest son in a hug, which matthew happily returned, before he gave you one as well.

“we almost thought you two weren’t coming. did matthew forget how to drive in snow?” keith asked, causing you and taryn to laugh, and matthew to roll his eyes.

“i haven’t been here 2 minutes and that’s two florida jokes,” he raised his hands in disbelief.

“i didn’t hear dad say that word, did you?” taryn asked you, and you shook your head, and matthew narrowed his eyes at you playfully.

“why is avery one ganging up on me?” he asked, and you heard the thump of footsteps coming down the stairs behind him, as brady and his wife emma appeared.

“that’s what happens when you show up late, buddy,” the younger tkachuk brother teased, and matthew grabbed him in a headlock in response, but it quickly turned into a friendly hug.

“y/n got here at the same time as me,” matt argued, and you raised your hands in mock surrender, as chantal walked into the living room to see what all the commotion was.

“we don’t pick on our guests, that’s the rule. it’s so nice to see you!” she smiled, and gave you a warm hug.

“mom!” matt protested, and she walked over to hug him too.

“oh, relax. come here,” she pulled him into her arms.

taryn brought you into the kitchen, and after each of you washed your hands, she helped you take the cookies out of the tin and put them out into a festive plate.

“have you been home from school very long?” you asked, and taryn shook her head.

“just a few days. how was the drive from the airport?” she asked.

“it was pretty good,” you said. there wasn’t too much snow this year so driving conditions were good. “my driver wasn’t great, but he was cheap so i can’t complain-“ you teased as matthew walked into the kitchen and within earshot.

“i heard that,” he smiled.

“good,” you smiled back, scrunching your nose up as he stuck his tongue out at you.

“you two should take your bags upstairs to matthews room. there’s a little early christmas present for each of you up there,” chantal instructed, and you smiled, laughing as matthew stole a cookie off the plate on his way past. you followed after him, protesting as he grabbed both his bag and yours from by the front door, before heading up the stairs.

you knew this house like the back of your hand, and you smiled as the familiar scent of the tkachuk family home mixing with the smell of christmas cooking and baking filling your nose. you turned the corner and saw matt already sitting in his bed, your bags placed on the floor neatly as he read the tags on two gift bags that sat next to him on the bed.

“this one is for you,” he said, holding out the green gift bag to you, keeping the red one for himself. you opened them together, each pulling out flannel pyjama pants, yours green with a plaid pattern and his red, just like the bags had been. it had become a tradition for chantal and keith to buy christmas pyjamas for each of their kids every year, and then for emma as well, and you felt honoured each time you were included.

“we get to match this year,” he smiled, and you set the pants on top of your bag to wear later, and looked around matthews room. while his decorating had changed since you were younger, there were things that remained the same; the small dent in the ceiling from when matthew and brady had decided to play hockey inside and sent a puck flying up into the plaster. there were pencil marks on the door frame with the three siblings initials next to them, even a few with yours.

you walked over to desk and admired the bulletin board with pictures push-pinned to it, most of them containing the two of you, ranging from when you were kids until last time you had visited his parents with him for his birthday a few years ago.

“is it weird being back here?” matthew asked, coming over to look at the pictures with you. his hand rested half on top of your as you leaned on the desk, and you smiled, shaking your head.

“no,” you answered. “it kinda takes you back in time though, doesn’t it? like nothings changed?” you asked, and he turned his head to look at you.

“yeah. i feel like i’m a kid again whenever i’m here with everyone.”

“thank you for inviting me,” you leaned against his shoulder, and you felt him rest his head on yours.

“of course. it wouldn’t be the same without you here,” he replied, and you hummed contently in response.

“hey, dinners almost ready,” you heard taryn’s voice from the doorway, neither of you having noticed her come up the stairs to find you. you turned towards her, a smile on her face as she looked at you and matthew standing together. it had come up a few times between her and matt’s family if the two of you were ever going to realize you were in love with eachother, and as the years went by, taryn was convinced the two of you would never figure it out.

“okay, we’ll be right there,” matthews arm had snaked around your waist at some point, and he pushed you towards the door after taryn, following his younger sister downstairs to eat.

-🧣🧦🌲❄️-

after dinner, keith and chantal watched as ‘the kids’, meaning the three tkachuk siblings along with you and emma, decorated the tree. the lights had already been strung a few weeks before, but it was a family tradition to hang the ornaments on christmas eve. chantel had requested everyone get changed into their pyjamas for pictures, and you noticed that the pattern on brady and emma’s matched, as well as hers and keith’s having a matching design. still, neither you or your best friend figured out that they were in fact meant to be couples pyjamas.

“this one’s yours, brady,” matthew said, handing his brother an ornament with his name on it.

“what movie are we thinking this year?” keith asked from his recliner, holding a few dvds in his hand. “home alone, the grinch, elf…”

“i like home alone,” emma offered, and brady and taryn agreed.

“any of those are fine with me,” you smiled, choosing an ornament and hanging it on the tree.

“sweetheart, why don’t you put the star on the tree this year,” chantal suggested, passing you the tree topper. “you’re the guest after all.”

“are you sure?” you asked, and she nodded with a warm smile. carefully, you stepped up onto the small wooden stool next to the tree so you could reach the top, and you were relieved to feel matthews hands on your waist, gently steadying you so you wouldn’t fall. keith looked at chantal with a knowing glance, watching matt take your hand to help you down from the stool after you had successfully placed the star on top of the tree.

“okay, i want a picture of all you kids by the tree, while it’s still snowing outside. it will look really pretty in the window behind everyone,” chantal said, getting her phone camera ready.

taryn stood in the middle, while brady had one arm over her shoulder and the other arm holding emma close to his side. matt stood behind you with his arms hugging you and his chin on your shoulder as you all smiled for the photo. you and emma made the siblings and their parents take a photo together as well, before taryn put the movie in, home alone winning the vote. keith was sat in his recliner, while taryn and chantal sat on the loveseat. emma and brady sat on one end of the large couch while you sat in the middle of it and matthew leaned against the armrest at the other end.

maybe it was the flight from florida, or the spiked eggnog you’d had after dinner, but you began to feel sleepy about an hour in to the movie, and tried not to make it too obvious that you were yawning as not to be rude. matthew still noticed however, and he gently placed a blanket over your legs, stealing some of it for himself as you curled up under the warm material. while you appreciated the gesture, the added warmth only made you more tired, and you soon drifted off, matthew catching your head just in time as it fell to the side. he rested it safely in his shoulder, and smiled down at you as you snuggled into him.

emma elbowed brady in the side gently, pointing at the two of you, completely in your own little world. chantal glanced over, her eyes meeting emma’s with a quiet laugh before she watched her eldest son place a gentle kiss on the top of your head, oblivious to the two women watching him. the movie ended with you still fast asleep, and as it neared midnight, everyone said goodnight and went off to bed, leaving you and matthew alone on the couch.

“hey, sleepyhead. time to get up,” he shook you gently, and you mumbled incoherently in protest, your fingers digging into the material of his hoodie as you snuggled impossibly closer. “unless you want to sleep down here, but i warn you - dad wakes up at like 6 am,” he laughed, and the sound pulled you out of your slumber.

“why didn’t you wake me up sooner? i feel bad for falling asleep.”

“don’t feel bad,” he laughed again. “you could probably set the house on fire and my family would forgive you, they love you so much. but maybe don’t- i kinda like it here,” he teased.

“i promise not to set the house on fire,” you mocked him playfully, and his hands tickled your ribs, causing you to fall backwards onto the couch with him on top of you. “please, i’m sorry, please stop-“ you pleased through tears of laughter.

“fine, but only because it’s christmas and you asked nicely. lets go up to bed, mom will want us up early to open presents,” he surrendered, getting up off the couch and extending a hand to help you up.

matthew didn’t let go of your hand as you both walked into his room, only letting go of it to go into the attached bathroom to brush his teeth. you did the same after him, walking out to see him already under the blankets.

“come here,” he held his arms open for you to crawl into, his hoodie discarded in a pile on the floor, leaving him in just the flannel pyjama pants. it wasn’t an unusual sleeping arrangement; having shared a bed with him many times when you were kids, and anytime you came to visit his family. you switched off the bathroom light and laid down, curling up next to him as his arms pulled you close, tucking you securely under his chin. the soft facial hair on his chin tickled your forehead as you wrapped your arms around him, his body invitingly warm as you felt yourself getting sleepy again.

matt squinted his eyes, looking at the clock on the nightstand that read 12:03am.

“merry christmas, bug,” he mumbled softly, and you hummed in response.

“merry christmas matty.”

-🧣🧦🌲❄️-

you woke up to the sound of the alarm matthew had set on his phone going off at 8am, the time chantal had requested everyone be up for presents and then breakfast. you tried to get out of bed but matt refused to let go of you, his arms holding you tight as you tried to squirm out of his grip.

“come on, before brady eats all the cookies,” you argued, and that woke matt up, but he still grumbled and groaned as he finally let you of you and rolled out of bed. he pulled a t-shirt over his head, tossing you one from his dresser to throw over your tank-top. running a hand through his messy curls to tame them as best he could, and you rubbed your eyes as you followed him towards the hallway. you bumped into his muscular frame, not realizing he had stopped in the doorway, and you looked at him with confusion, realization flooding over you as he pointed upwards.

“oh-“ you breathed, looking at the small green bundle of mistletoe that had been hung from the doorframe while you were sleeping.

“that wasn’t there before, was it?” matt asked, looking down at you, and you shook your head, your eyes meeting his.

“why would someone hang it there?” you asked, and he laughed, finally getting it.

“i think maybe my family is trying to tell us something,” he said, reaching for your hand with his.

“matty-“ you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper as you looked at your lips, and then up to your eyes again.

“can i kiss you?” he whispered, stepping closer in the small doorway, leaving almost no space between your bodies. you mind was racing a mile a minute, unable to form words as you nodded, and he leaned forward, pressing his mouth against yours so softly, his lips only ghosting yours before he pulled back, waiting for a reaction.

“do that again,” you smiled, and his hands went to your hips this time to pull your body flush against his, as he kissed you again. his lips lingered on yours longer this time, and your hands rested against his broad chest as you kissed him back, never wanting to let go.

like all good things, the moment had to end, as you heard taryn call from downstairs.

“are you guys awake?”

“yeah, be right there,” matt called back, his eyes never leaving you as you stared up at him, everything making sense as you both put the pieces together.

“i love you, matthew.”

he smiled warmly, and kissed you once more, like he was making up for all the times he should have done it before.

“i love you.”

“i think we’re the last to know,” you admitted, looking down at the matching pyjamas, and up at the mistletoe, before looking back at him, a smile permanently plastered on his face.

“i think you’re right,” he laughed. “come on, before they send a search party.” he dragged you gently by your hand down the stairs, taking a seat on the couch and pulling you to sit in his lap.

taryn and chantal each looked at you with a raised eyebrow, and you had a sneaking suspicion they were behind the mistletoe. taryn watched matty place a kiss on your cheek, and she sent you a wink.

maybe it was the warmth from the fireplace, or matthews arms around your waist holding you close to him, but your heart felt warmer than you could ever remember. brady and emma began passing out the gifts, and you took one for matt from her hands.

“you go first,” he said, gesturing with a nod for you to set it on the coffee table. emma placed a present with your name on the tag in your hands, as matthew whispered in your ear.

“i already have everything i want.”

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

[luveline]

hi! i know ur not from the us so pls feel free to ignore this but i think a kbd fic where steve and the girls are doing sparklers for the fourth of july would be so cute! absolutely adore everything u post 🫶🏻

thank u!! sorry i know it isn't the fourth anymore bit I hope u enjoy regardless!! kbd —dad!steve and mom!reader show their daughters how to use sparklers for the first time, 2k

Steve isn't a huge fan of fireworks because of how dangerous they can be, but sparklers are just fine in his book. He buys a box of thirty. The girls can do ten each if they feel like it, though he knows Dove won't be interested, and he guesses Bethie will be too scared to hold them. 

Still, he hopes. You're hosting a banquet of food when he arrives, a mixture of things you made and stuff he prepared yesterday. It's a feast of hotdogs and burgers, cupcakes and donuts, macaroni and cheese and chilli with white rice. The table is crammed with plates and the radio is on, playing fun pop music a little too loudly for Dove's taste, her hands over her ears.

You turn down the radio, and ask her where she sits on your hip, "Is that better, sweetheart?" 

"Hey," he says, putting the box of sparklers on the counter. 

"Hey, Stevie," you say, in a rare tone. You always talk to him with love but he adores how you say his name now, like you've never been happier to see him in your entire life. "They had some?"

"Lucky, right? Guess I'm not the only schmuck who forgot to buy some." 

Avery rushes for his legs, a chocolate donut in one hand and a cup of juice in the other. Despite her luggage, she expects to be picked up. Steve grabs her. 

"You're cold, dad," she says. 

"Really? It's not cold out," he says. 

"You need something to warm you up." 

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Sure I do. Give me a hug, but don't get icing in my hair, please." 

Avery hugs him, sticky cheek pressing into his as her arms strain around him. He pats her back, meeting your eyes and returning your happy smile. Steve turns on the spot to see Bethie practically elbow deep in a bowl of chilli. She loves anything that comes with rice, and she eats it like someone's going to take it away from her, chilli staining her lips and cheeks, a grain of rice stuck to her chin.

"Did you get a photo of that?" he asks. 

"Of course I did," you laugh, putting Dove down to brace yourself against the counter. You stretch your neck in a tight circle. 

"Thank you. Beth, that looks so nice! Are you saving any for me?" 

"No!" she says happily, smiling wide as an ocean. 

"Good girl. Alright, you tell me when you're finished, I have something fun for after dinner." 

Dinner gets put on pause. You wipe Bethie's face clean, giggling the whole time and telling her how cute she is in your saccharine mommy voice that melts her, "We should have that more often, huh?" It's always a good day when Bethie eats well.

Steve helps Avery put her shoes on and together they step out into the backyard. It's small considering the house is a four bedroom, but maybe that's why you'd been able to afford it in the first place. You work with what space you have. There's a light wood fence, the perimeter half lined by pansies and the other side with a slim shed full of their bikes and scooters and a small bed where the girls attempted to grow strawberries last year. They didn't take, but Steve has hope for this summer. 

The yard is clean though slightly neglected, and Steve has to work spider duty before Avery will agree to step off of the doorjam. You follow soon, Dove at your shins, Bethie cautious as she steps out in her socks behind you.

"Where's your shoes?" Steve asks her. 

"I told her she didn't have to wear them," you say. "She says they're pinching her toes." 

Steve had Beth's feet measured specifically to avoid that. He assumes it isn't pinching so much as not wanting to wear them. He shrugs. "Okay. Stay on the stones then, Beth, I don't know what's in the grass. You might step on a snail." 

"Ew," she says, sitting down in the doorway.

Steve lights a sparkler for no one first of all, wondering how each girl will react. He hands it to you as the sparks jump to life, white and bright in the shade of the garden, the shadow of their house. You wave it around gently, but when each of your daughters gasps in unhappy shock, you hold your hand under the sparkler and let a spark kiss your palm. 

"They aren't dangerous," you promise. You wave it into a heart, a star, the letter A. "Does anyone wanna try?" 

"Me!" Avery shouts, holding out her hand. The sparkler burns remarkably quickly down to the stem.

"Dad will give you a new one. Hey, baby?" you put the sparkler down on the glass patio table as it sputters out. "Don't you have those gardening gloves?" 

Soon, Steve's outfitted each girl in a glove too big for their hand. He passes Avery a sparkler, and her bravery and subsequent joy prompts some jealousy in Bethie, fighting her fear to take one too. You crouch down to stand with her as she waves it around, her eyes like saucers as white sparks fly. 

"It's so pretty!" you say. 

Dove is interested, but not in holding one. Steve picks her up and lights a sparkler, raising it away from her curious hands to draw her name. Avery squeaks with happiness and proclaims it as magic. "Dad, I'm a fairy!" 

"I can see! Try not to put it by your hair, okay?" 

She squeals some more until it dies in her hand. "Can I have another one?" 

"Ooh," you coo, watching with pride as Bethie draws a circle with hers, "my girl's brave today, I'm super proud of you. Isn't this fun?"

Steve lights another one for Avery and gives Dove a loving kiss, thrilled to see them all this happy. He's really surprised Bethie's enjoying herself, but he supposes it would be hard for her to have a bad time with your hands on her shoulders, your encouragement soft and shining as angora silk. 

They must use up four or five each like that. 

"Daddy," Dove says, imploring as she touches his face. 

"What?" he asks, thinking of tacking 'my little princess' on the end but withholding. Lately every sentence he says has a pet name squeezed in the middle. He has a lot of love to give. 

She looks at him. He pats her small back, wondering if she's going to bless him with a sentence or two. She's old enough now to be talking, but she's quiet like Bethie most of the time. Or, she's not talkative —Dove is far from quiet. 

"Hotdog, please."

Steve laughs loudly. "You want me to make you a hotdog?" 

"And ketchup." 

"Yeah, I can make you a hotdog. You don't want to stay for another sparkler?" he asks. 

"No." 

He laughs again, pressing another kiss overtop the first one he'd laid on her chubby cheek. "Thank you for saying please, sweetheart. You're such a good girl." 

"Can I have a hotdog, too?" Avery asks.

"Sure you can, whatever you want. Beth? Mom?" 

You've sat down on the floor. You're probably cold, but your smile would never show it. "I think me and Bethie are going to have another helping of chilli and rice, aren't we?" you ask hopefully. 

Bethie's sparkler fizzles out. "Can we do more sparklers again?" 

"Yeah. Tell you what, let's go back inside for food and when everyone's full, we'll come outside and do some more before bed. Sound good?" 

The girls head inside, and Steve makes some hotdogs on the stove. Dove falls asleep with a bun in her hand, Bethie with her cheeks painted in sauce. Avery doesn't tire so easily, and while the others sleep, you and Steve take her out to the back door to light another sparkler. You write your names, you draw clumsy constellations. Steve writes 'I love

Avery,' grinning as she sounds out each letter. 

Avery relishes in the delight of having your unfettered attention. She stays up for hours after her sisters with you and Steve, long enough to watch stray fireworks shoot up into the sky over your backyard, her head on your shoulder, her hand in Steve's hand. 

"This is the best day ever," she says. 

Steve wants to cry. Genuinely. He meets your eyes over Avery's head, and you shuffle closer to her without speaking, enveloping her in a hug from either side. 

"Every day is the best day ever with you around, Ave," Steve says. 

"The best. Me and dad tried some fireworks, when you weren't born." Steve and Avery look at you with mirrored interest. He doesn't remember what story you're going to tell. "You would've been very small in me at the time," you say, looking up as a pink and white firework blossoms across the night sky like a peony. "Like a strawberry seed. We… didn't know you were coming. I knew. I knew, but I didn't know. I could feel you right here," —you point at your stomach— "but I had no idea what you were going to be." 

"Hey, you're right," Steve says. He forgets you were pregnant before you knew it. 

"But me and dad lived together already," you say. "We were always going to get married and have babies and stuff, but you came really quickly. You were excited." 

Steve grins. Avery hangs on your every word. 

"But anyway, me and dad lived together. Not here, but somewhere, and we didn't have a yard but there was a little patch of grass and we figured we'd buy some, but he burned a stripe of my arm hair off by accident with a long lighter, and the we didn't have a fence to nail the Catherine wheel down, and he accidentally dropped the firecracker box on the way home so it didn't work anymore, and the rockets wouldn't light." 

"Oh, no," Avery says. "You didn't have any fireworks?" 

"None. But we had a pack of sparklers. We did it just like we did with you. I wrote 'I love Stevie' in big letters, and your dad tried to hug me and jabbed me in the stomach with his burned up one." 

"Your hoodie," Steve remembers finally. "Your white hoodie, I bought it for you the week before at the mall after you threw up in Dairy Queen. I remember." 

"I had it for a week, and he got this huge ash smudge on it." 

"But you wouldn't let me wash it with bleach." 

You give Avery a kiss on the top of her head. "I wanted to remember how happy we were. I thought the smudge was a nice reminder. Turns out I got much more than a smudge." 

"You got me," Avery decodes.

"We got you," you say. "You're a thousand different things, Avery. You're smart, and kind, and pretty, and you're also a really good reminder that your dad loves me." 

"Do you need a reminder?" Steve asks, genuinely worried, and kind of in awe. How you can sit there and say something that romantic off the cuff is beyond him. He really might cry soon. 

"No," you say smugly. "You tell me all the time." 

Not enough, he decides. After this, he'll be sure to tell you more. 

Steve falls in love with you for the thousandth time.

"What I'm trying to tell you, Ave, is that dad is right. Every day with you in it is a really good day. I love you so much," you start to fizzle, which is to say your voice gets tight. You won't cry, but Steve teeters. "I'm really, really happy you had the best day ever, 'cos you make every day the best for dad and your sisters and me." 

"Really?" Avery asks softly. 

"Really," Steve says, rubbing the space between her shoulders. 

A rocket squeals into the air and fractures into a ring of spectral colours. 

Avery climbs onto her feet, and, torn between who to hug, wraps an arm around both of your necks. 

Steve wraps his arms around you both, squeezing your hip. He's gotten used to being loved, to feeling it, but tonight might be an all time high. Sparklers become a Harrington tradition that year. 

[celesomnis]

anon thank you VERY MUCH for the ask!! 🥹 It had so many good questions in it, and was very thorough in detail /pos!!! I hope you don't mind me breaking it up and answering different individual questions in it over several posts! I want to give each q some real time and answer :D BUt here if the first answer to the first inquiry~!

Cinder and the Second Years －•・

[character dynamics under the cut!]

Cinder is not quite eighteen yet when he's hired as the NRC janitor, which would put him alongside all the Second Year crew, age-wise! Unsurprisingly, the princess boys have an almost supernaturally high connection. They're first meeting does not go . . . as peacefully I think people expect (cough cough hints at a fic i'm writing c o u g h) but besides that initial hitch, they DO become very quickly close. It's almost like their souls were friends before their persons were. (The odd, mutual influence over small cute creatures is also a bonding point.) Silver is also one of the few people to call Cinder by his real name Avery, because true names are important to Silver. Jamil as well! Since he and Cinder have a lot in common socially/expectation'ally. The servitude situation would definitely mirror some of Jamil's own experiences. Not nearly to the same extreme of course, but it does give them a direction of bonding during their initial friendship! It's very possible they become venting buddies lolol. Cinder's resolve of unwavering kindness and keeping a pure heart during HIS situation might eventually begin to butt heads with Jamil's long simmering resentment over his own circumstances though. ... Or, he'd envy Cinder for it ...... Or admire it?? Idk. Some more advanced-knowledged Jamil girlies (gn) may have to pipe in for that!  Cinder and Kalim are friendly, but there is the small case that Jamil got to Cinder first, so Cinder's impression of Kalim was a little colored by what was told to him. But! (Unless for in extreme cases) Cinder isn't someone who lets that affect him into being impolite to anybody. So he and Kalim are kind to one another! It's sorta the equivalent of meeting your good friend's coworker, who is very nice, but you've also very mentally privy to everything your friend has complained about them whilst they've worked together lol lol RUGGIE! I love ruggie 🥺 so my bias might have affected Cinder into being extra nice to him lol. he's innocent of all crimes, your honor. Trust, I was there. In all seriousness, I like to think Cinder would be sweet to him and care for him - much alike Cinderella did to GusGus and the other mice in the movie! Leaving him little snacks in a special cuboard in the kitchen, sewing him some new clothing items when Ruggie's stuff starts to weather. Affectionate big brother vibes, even though Cinder is like only two months older than him lol. So,,, Cinder and the Heartslabyul crew would be great pals, but purely from repeated plot related accidents - they just keep ending up on opposing sides of situations. 😭 There was the unbirthday mouse kidnapping situation with Ace, a secondary "chandelier situation" with Deuce, a haywire Magicam post incident with Cater that almost got Cinder fired, and a smaller kitchen fire mishap that partly involved Trey. Riddle specifically though ---- they're cool with each other. There's no incident that associates a negative memory between them. Cinder wasn't hired yet during Riddle's overblot, so they bypassed that whole drama. Riddle admires Cinder's work resolve and adherence to the integrity of the school too, so if anything, I think the fact that so many Hearts students keep accidentally inconveniencing Cinder is mildly embarrassing for Riddle 😭 Cinder does not really have the fondest impression of the Octavinelle boys, and it's solely because of the AMOUNT OF MOPPING HE HAS TO DO around their Dorm entrance. There's a good, long while between when Cinder is hired, to when Dire Crowley starts permitting him to clean within the actual dorms. So luckily that saves Cinder from having to deal with the lounge for awhile, but yeah.. also, Floyd lowkey make Cinder feel a liiiittle unsafe fhjddhjsk So Cinder doesn't start getting to know them until much later.

Thank you for reading~! 🩵✨ ;v;

[hockeygirl101]

The Lake House

Part two: fight or flight

Walking down stairs, I can hear my mom and dad talking in the kitchen. I walk through the living room, passing Bella, our old black lab. I bend down and pet her giving her a quick kiss. I walk into the kitchen and sit beside my brother at the island.

"What are they talking about" i question Theo, grabbing one of the grapes off the plate of fruit my mom laid out.

"Something about dad wants a new boat but mom doesn't want to get rid of the old one" Theo whispers back, taking a piece of apple off the plate.

"Let me guess, she wants to keep it because we all learned how to drive on it?" I smile at Theo, knowing how mom can get a little too sentimental about things.

"Of course that's why, dad-" Theo gets cut off by my parents turning around.

"Averie sweetie what do you think?" My mom ask in her soft gentle tone, one that is usually only saved for Company.

"I think we should get a new boat" I say, looking at dad, "it makes sense, that boats so old now mom, it's a safety issue" I say, my dad winks at me and turns around to the stove.

"I'm making you the big steak tonight Bear" my dad tells over his shoulder, reminding me of my nickname everyone called me while we were here.

I stand up and tell them I'm going for a run, like I have for my entire life. I always go for a run before dinner, helps me clear my head. I quickly run up states to my room and put on some running shoes and shorts. I walk back down stairs and bump into Theo.

"You know, they asked about you" he says quietly in passing me on the stairs. I freeze, figuring no one would bring them up. Knowing how bad i never wanted to talk about them before,

"Ok? So what T?" I glare at him and keep walking.

I start my run through the path in the forest, my head spinning from what Theo said. Had they really asked about me? For how long? Just today? And when he says them does he mean all three? My thoughts are cut off by a twig snapping behind me. I expect some wild animal to jump out at me, though I suppose one did, an old Wolverine.

"Hey bear" Luke Hughes, standing in all his glory. He moves towards me, cautiously, as if not to spook me.

"Hi Lu" I smile stepping closer to him. I wrap my arms around him, growing up, Luke was always the closets to me. Him being only a year older than me made both of us feel less alone, especially when out older brothers would leave us to go do something cool, like rock jumping. To this day I still don't know what it is.

Luke's arm wrap around me, having them on my back makes me remember how good everything was before it happened, that summer. I can feel tears pricking my eyes, I pull back from him and sniffle.

"Did you get taller?" I giggle up at Luke, he stands at about 6'2, his dark brown curly hair matches mine, he smiles down at me.

Luke laughs, his eyes crinkling in the corners, he seems happy. He's wearing an old Umich hoodie, black sweats and Nike running shoes. He looks good, he always has.

"No way, you've shrunk bear sorry" he smiles at me, I bark out a laugh.

"Oh come on, I'm very tall." I frown at him and cross my arms. "You're just freakishly tall" I shrug, start to walk back to the house.

"Yea yea, always running your mouth" Luke jokes with me.

It's almost like for Luke, nothing happened. I never hurt him and his brothers, I never left them, I never picked myself over them. I had always hoped when I saw them again, they would t bring it up. How that last summer of 16 was the worst period of my life.

"So when did you guys get here?" I asked him, hoping he wouldn't see what I was asking truly.

"Late last night, came up with some of my buddies from college." Luke says looking down at me, I nod and look straight ahead.

"Oh good, and jacks here then too?" I ask, avoiding who I want to ask about.

Luke doesn't say anything, he just nods and takes my hand in his. "So did you watch us play this year?" He looks over at me, his eyes narrowing.

"Of course I watched you Lu. I always have, just like when we used to watch Jack and Quinn. I always watch." My hand tightens around his, I smile up at him. "I never stopped. Never. Not even after that summer, not even after the horrible move in day freshman year. I'm always cheering for you." I feel my self get emotional, this is why I never came back before. I can't handle the hurt in my chest when I look at Luke, knowing how close we were.

It was always easy for my and Luke to open up to each other. He just understood me in ways other people don't, or can't. Every look he gives me makes me want to tell him everything.

"I didn't think you would, but it was hard. We love you, and you just left. The next time we see you, we're helping you move into your freshman dorm room. It hurt Bear." He says looking forward, letting go of my hand.

"I know, I'm really sorry Lu. I was always there for you" I stop walking and grab his hand, pulling him to look at me, "I will always love and admire you, and your brothers. No matter what happens or has happened between the four of us." I say, gently pulling him down into a hug.

Luke wraps his arms around me, letting out a deep sigh as he tightens around me. "I know, I do, we all do." I feel him take a deep breath in, before pulling back. "Now let's get you back for dinner, my parents are already there" he grins.

Fuck. Fuck.

"Your parents are at my house now? Like right now?" My voice picks up, I hate being caught off guard like this. Shit.

"Oh yea, plus the guys who are here. Guess you can finally meet Nico." Luke laughs gently, knowing how I'm feeling.

"I hate you, you know that right?" I smile at him as we start to walk up my street, passing lake houses along the way. I wave to the people I know, or rather I remember.

"Yea yea, you always say that then you come running back" he jokes as we walk up my drive way. "Nice car" he says as we walk past my truck.

"Thanks, it was a birthday gift last year" I mumble as we reach the porch. I stop, pulling Luke back.

"So who's in there? Tell me" I say, demand really. I need to know if he's in there.

"Quinn's not here yet. If that's what you're asking. Which it is" Luke smirks at me, thinking he's got me all figured out.

"Ok. I can do that then." I say as I pull him over to the door and through, "into the lions den then" I mutter and Luke's laughs. Though he knows I'm not kidding.

Fuck.

[adddddiiii]

hey can i request javery parenting teen kids? ty

like an older son and younger daughter

The Art of Negotiation

Contents: Jameson Hawthorne x Avery Grambs

It was an unusually quiet Saturday morning at the Hawthorne estate. Avery was in her home office, reviewing some contracts for an upcoming project, while Jameson was lounging on the couch, casually scrolling through his phone. Maya, their eight-year-old, was busy with her latest obsession: building a massive Lego castle in the living room. Noah, their fourteen-year-old son, was still asleep upstairs, he had probably stayed up too late with his friends on the phone the previous night.

Avery glanced at the clock on her desk. She had a few more hours of work ahead of her, but there was a lull in the day, and she felt the itch to take a break. She leaned back in her chair and decided to check on the kids.

“Maya, you’re still going with the Legos?” Avery called out as she walked into the living room.

Maya looked up from her castle, beaming. “Yeah, look! It’s almost as tall as me!”

Avery smiled but raised an eyebrow. “That’s impressive, but I think you need a break soon. It’s a Saturday, sweetie. Want to do something else?”

“I’m building a kingdom, Mom!” Maya said with determination. “I can’t stop now.”

Avery chuckled, kneeling down beside her. “Alright, alright, I’ll let you keep going. But only if you let me get some work done without interruptions.”

Maya was about to respond when the unmistakable sound of Noah stomping down the stairs echoed through the house. He was dressed in a hoodie, his hair tousled from sleep.

“Morning,” Noah muttered, grabbing a glass from the cabinet.

“Morning,” Avery said, giving him a brief smile. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” Noah mumbled, his eyes still half-closed as he reached for the fridge.

Avery glanced at Jameson, who was still sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone. “You planning on doing anything today, or is it another day of gaming and texting your friends?”

Noah sighed dramatically. “Mom, I’m not five. I don’t need a schedule.”

Avery shot him a playful look. “Not a schedule, but I’m hoping you can help out with a few things around here. It’s the weekend, and we all pitch in.”

Noah groaned, clearly not thrilled by the idea. “Fine. I’ll help with whatever, but I’m not going to spend the day cleaning.”

Avery and Jameson exchanged a glance. She had learned a long time ago that, with Noah, negotiations were key.

“How about this,” Avery said, leaning against the counter. “You take a break from your phone and gaming for an hour and help me with a couple of things around the house. After that, you have the rest of the day to do whatever you want.”

Noah hesitated, but the thought of uninterrupted gaming time was tempting. “What do you need me to do?”

Avery smiled, crossing her arms. “It’s simple. Just tidy up the garage, and then you can help Maya clean up the mess she’s made in the playroom. Nothing too difficult.”

Noah made a face but agreed reluctantly. “Fine. But you owe me one.”

Avery laughed. “We’ll see. Go grab your shoes. Maya, you good to keep building?”

Maya nodded, still deeply invested in her Lego world. “Yeah! I’m building the largest castle in the whole world. Noah can help after."

Noah rolled his eyes but headed upstairs to grab his shoes, and Maya went back to work on her massive Lego creation.

Jameson, still lounging on the couch, looked over at Avery. “I swear, I don’t know how you do it. How do you make them actually want to help?”

Avery gave him a sly grin. “It’s all about the art of negotiation. I make them think they’re winning.”

Jameson chuckled. “I should take notes from you.”

Avery winked. “You’ll get there, Hawthorne. Just takes practice.”

[onechicagolife]

ABSENTIA | JAY HALSTEAD

Detective Jay Halstead is a senior member of the Intelligence Unit, where he is partnered with Detective Hailey Upton after his former partner went missing undercover. While he never wanted to give up hope, the CPD assumed her dead and he was resigned to accept it. Now, two years later, Jay gets a sudden phone call with news that changes his life forever. Avery Clarke is alive. want to be tagged? link in bio <3

Chapter 15

Jay rounds the corner to his apartment, exhaustion weighing down his movements as he drags a hand down his face. The last few nights have blurred together—hours spent in his truck with Avery, watching and waiting. They haven’t seen Nikolai again since that first night, which he’s not sure is a good or bad thing. Bad for their investigation, yes. But he couldn’t deny Avery’s reaction when she saw him for the first time. The way she completely froze, her shoulders tensing and her breaths quickening.

The cruelest part was that when Jay asked about it, she refused to tell him anything. And that every time he looks at her, he still feels everything. Being with her feels overwhelmingly familiar, too much like how it used to be. Because she sits back in the seat with her feet thrown up, she steals his coffee without thinking. She pushes his buttons, challenges him in the best and worst ways.

He knows he shouldn’t be spending so much time with her. He tells himself that he has to, even though he knows it’s not fair to Hailey. Knows it’s wrong that every night, as he sits in the freezing car with Avery, he doesn’t want to leave. That despite the anger, the confusion, the betrayal—he feels more like himself than he has in a long time.

Pulling his keys from his pocket, Jay lifts his head and his stomach drops. Hailey is leaning against the wall outside his door, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her ponytail sways slightly as she straightens at the sight of him, and the look on her face—anger barely concealing hurt—makes his breath hitch. Dinner.

He exhales sharply, quickening his steps as guilt settles heavy in his chest, “Shit, Hailey, I’m sorry.”

Her expression doesn’t change. “I called you,” Hailey says flatly.

His fingers tighten around his keys, “My phone died.” Lie. He turned it off.

She scoffs, shaking her head as she pushes off the wall. He sees the way her eyes glisten under the dim hallway light, the way her jaw tenses as she turns to leave. Panic flares in his chest. “Wait.” He reaches out, catching her wrist gently, just enough to stop her, “Just… come inside. Please.”

Hailey hesitates. For a second, he thinks she’s going to walk away. Maybe she should. Maybe he should let her.

Reluctantly, her feet stay rooted in place as he unlocks the door and opens it. He stands in the doorway, waiting for her with hopeful eyes. After a few moments, and against her better judgement, she steps inside.

Jay closes the door behind them, lingering for a second before he turns to face her. He barely gets his jacket off before she whirls on him.

“Where have you been?”

His shoulders sag. He should have known she’d cut right to it. “I’m sorry I forgot about dinner,” he says weakly, knowing full well that it isn’t good enough.

“That’s not an answer,” her voice rises slightly, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “You’ve been blowing me off all week. You disappear after work, you don’t answer my calls or texts. You come in every morning looking like you haven’t slept. What the hell is going on with you?”

Jay rubs a hand over his face, already exhausted by this conversation. “I’m—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” she cuts him off harshly. “And don’t say you’ve been with Voight.” Hailey takes a deep breath, her anger cracking just slightly under something more vulnerable. Her voice is quieter as she forces out the next words, “Just tell me if you were with Avery.”

He hesitates. It’s only for a second, but it’s enough to make her eyes harden. “It’s not what you think,” Jay says quickly, trying to reassure her that he would never.

She crosses her arms tighter, her nails digging into her skin. She didn’t think he was cheating, not really. She knows him well enough to know that. “Then what is it?”

His jaw clenches. He doesn’t know what to say. He knows she deserves to hear the truth, but he can’t bring himself to say it. “Hailey,” he swallows, “I can’t.”

“That’s bullshit,” she snaps, her voice rising again. “You don’t get to pull the ‘I can’t talk about it’ card with me. I’m your partner, Jay. I’m your girlfriend. You’re shutting me out, and I deserve to know why.”

His mind races, eyes desperately searching her face for some—any—hint of understanding. “I can’t tell you,” Jay settles on with a helpless half-shrug. “You just have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” Hailey laughs—a bitter, broken sound—and narrows her eyes. “Do you even hear yourself?” When he doesn’t say anything, it only takes a few moments before realization washes over her. She lets out a disbelieving breath, “You’ve been helping her investigate Volkov.”

The way Jay tightens his jaw and clenches his hands into fists at his sides is confirmation enough.

“Jesus, Jay,” she shakes her head with a scoff. Hailey starts pacing, running both hands over her hair. “Do you even realize what you’re doing? You’re putting your career—your life—on the line.”

“I’m not putting my life on the line,” he says defensively.

“You’re lying to me,” she yells at him. “You’re lying to Voight. You’re impeding a federal investigation. All for her.”

Jay flinches at her words, guilt and anger swirling in his chest. “It’s not that simple. She’s my—” he cuts himself off, the words dying in his throat. He swallows hard as the air between them thickens. They both know what he was about to say. She’s my partner.

Hailey stares at him, something breaking in her expression. She squares her shoulders, trying to hold herself together even as her voice wavers. “You know, I’ve tried to be supportive. I’ve tried to be understanding. But I’m not going to sit here while you lie to my face. I’m not going to sit here and pretend.”

He blinks, knowing that this conversation is going somewhere he doesn’t want, but he can’t stop it. “Pretend?”

She exhales shakily, bringing up a hand to quickly swipe away the tears she is so stubbornly trying to keep at bay. “You were shot,” her voice trembles slightly, but she forces it to steady. “You were laying there, and I was holding your hand. You said her name.” She closes her eyes as the memories wash over her. “I tried to convince myself that I heard it wrong. But I didn’t. And I know that you know I heard it. And you still haven’t explained why.”

The air seems to leave the room, and for a moment, Jay can’t bring himself to look at her. His mind flashes back to that moment. His throat tightens as he finally meets her gaze. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about her,” he admits even as it kills him, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”

The words hang heavy between them, and Hailey’s breath hitches. She blinks rapidly, trying to process what he just said. “So, what? You’re still in love with her?”

Jay inhales sharply at the question. He wants to tell her no. He wants to tell her he loves her, that she’s the one he wants. But he can’t. “I don’t know,” he says finally, his voice breaking. “But I know she needs me right now and I can’t…” I can’t leave her. I can’t say no to her. I can’t let her be alone again. “I have to help her.”

Hailey nods slowly, like she expected that answer but hoped she was wrong. “I love you, Jay,” she whispers, her face crumbling as fresh tears well in her eyes. “And I thought—” she stops herself, shaking her head as a tear slips down her cheek. She doesn’t bother wiping it away.

His chest tightens, heartbeat pounding loudly in his head, “Hailey, I care about y—”

“Don’t,” she cuts him off, stepping back. “You can’t have both.”

The words cut deep. Jay opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He doesn’t want to hurt her. He never wanted to hurt her. But he can’t lie anymore. To himself, maybe. But not to her.

Her lips tighten into a thin line as she tilts her head, nodding slowly. “I’m done.”

He doesn’t stop her as she turns and walks toward the door, her footsteps echoing in the quiet apartment. He can’t bring himself to, no matter how much he wishes he could. When the door clicks shut behind her, the sound feels final as it echoes throughout the apartment.

Jay sinks onto the couch, elbows braced on his knees as his head falling into his hands. He knows Hailey had every right to walk away. He can’t even blame her. And he’s left wondering how the hell he got here.

After hesitating for just a moment, Jay walked towards Voight’s office. He stopped in the open doorway, eyes bouncing between his sergeant and the other man in the room. His hands clenched so tightly where they hung at his sides that his knuckles ached. He had been called in without much explanation—just a simple order to come in from Voight. The urgency in his voice made his stomach churn with unease. And now, seeing Chief Lugo standing beside the desk Voight sat behind made his pulse quicken unnaturally.

“Jay,” Voight started gruffly. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something dark, something resigned. “Take a seat.”

“I’m good.” His bosses exchanged a wary glance. Jay narrowed his eyes, “What’s going on?”

Voight didn’t speak at first, just cast another look towards the chief before sighing heavily. He opened a manila folder in front of him and pushed it forward on the desk.

Jay took a step and a half forward. Inside was a single, grainy photograph that made his stomach twist violently. It was a surveillance shot—a woman being dragged into a warehouse by two armed men. The image was blurry, the lighting terrible, but the height, the build, the hair—it was all too familiar. “Where did this come from?” he demanded.

Lugo spoke this time, his voice even, measured. “The FBI received this from one of their sources inside the Volkov organization. The timestamp places it three months ago.”

His breath stilled. Three months ago. Avery had already been missing for six. That meant she wasn’t killed on the spot like everyone else feared—she was taken alive. She was out there. Jay forced himself to focus, pulling himself away from the memories of that day. That day when he was too late. “So, what the hell are we doing sitting here? We finally have a lead, we go after it—”

Lugo held up a hand, stopping him cold. “The intel didn’t stop there.”

His heart pounded as Lugo flipped to the next page in the folder.

Unidentified female remains recovered from a Volkov warehouse overseas. Burned beyond recognition. No DNA match found.

Jay shook his head, immediately rejecting it. “No. No, that’s not proof. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Jay—” Voight started, his voice low.

“No.” He pushed the folder roughly across the desk, breathing hard as his chest tightened. “We’ve been through this before, and every single time, it’s led nowhere. You don’t have a body, you don’t have DNA, you don’t have—”

“The FBI is taking over the investigation into Volkov from Major Crimes. The brass agrees that the evidence is conclusive,” Lugo interrupted, his voice final. “Detective Clarke was likely killed while undercover. The case is being closed.”

The word rang in his ear, and his entire world stopped spinning. Closed. No. No.

He turned to Voight, his eyes pleading. “We don’t… we can’t just stop,” his voice cracked, barely managing to get the words out.

Voight held his gaze for a long moment, and that was when Jay knew. The fight had already been lost. The lines on Voight’s face looked deeper, heavier, and for the first time since Avery disappeared, there was defeat in his eyes. Even after Justin, he still hung onto the hope that his other child was still alive. But that hope was gone.

“It’s over,” Voight said quietly.

No. His breath came in short, shallow bursts, his hands trembling at his sides. Jay shook his head, refusing to accept it. “No. No, you don’t get to decide that. You don’t get to just—just declare her dead without proof.” His voice broke, rage bleeding through the cracks.

“Detective—” Lugo started.

“No, fuck that!” Jay slammed his hands onto the desk, the sound echoing through the office. His entire body was shaking. “You don’t get to make this call! She’s out there, she’s waiting for us to find her, and we’re just—we’re just giving up?” His voice bordered on hysteria as he looked towards Voight in disbelief, “You’re just gonna let this happen? After everything—after Justin? You’re just going to let them give up on her?”

Voight’s breath hitched in his throat as he blinked, barely managing to hold himself together. He never allowed himself to break before, and he won’t do it now. He can’t. Chief Lugo’s jaw tightened as he cut in, “This isn’t giving up, Halstead. This is the reality.”

Jay let out a sharp, bitter laugh, taking a half-step back in a desperate need to distance himself before he lost control. Reality. The word felt like poison in his mouth. Nothing about this felt real. “You don’t know her,” he spat. “You don’t know Avery. She’s a fighter. She wouldn’t just let them—” he stopped himself, unable to say the words. Wouldn’t just let them kill her.

Chief Lugo sighed, straightening, “I understand the nature of your relationship to her. I know this is difficult to hear, but the department is making it official. Detective Clarke is being ruled as killed in the line of duty.”

His breath hitched and he swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. This was it. This was the end. The fight left him all at once. His shoulders sagged, his knees suddenly weak, and for a moment, he thought he might actually collapse. He turned to Voight, his last hope. His voice was wrecked, desperate, “Hank.”

Voight’s face was etched with something almost like guilt. When he finally spoke, it was low and final. “It’s time to let her go.”

Something inside Jay broke. A sound tore from his throat—a ragged, guttural noise of sheer devastation—and he turned sharply, storming out of the office. He didn’t see where he was going. Didn’t feel the burn in his throat, the pressure behind his eyes, the way his chest was imploding in on itself.

All he knew was that he had to get out. Had to breathe. Had to escape the words still ringing in his head, threatening to tear down his entire world.

How the hell is he supposed to let her go? The woman he loved. The only woman he ever loved. She was gone. She couldn’t be gone. Jay picked up speed before bursting through one of the stalls just in time to hunch over the toilet, knees hitting the tile with a painful, sickening crack. His body convulsed as he gripped the porcelain with white-knuckled hands, waves of nausea wracking through him. His stomach clenched painfully, but there was nothing left to bring up. His breath came in ragged gasps, each one sharper than the last. His head was spinning, his vision blurring, the fluorescent lights overhead too bright, too harsh.

He felt like he was suffocating. Drowning.

The stall walls felt like they were closing in, pressing down on him and squeezing the air from his lungs. His entire body trembled as he sat back on his heels, his arms bracing against the sides of the stall. The cold tile bit into his knees, grounding him in a reality he desperately wanted to reject.

Avery was dead.

Voight believed it.

Chief Lugo signed off on it.

Major Crimes, the FBI—they all believed it.

The weight of it crashed down on him again, harder, heavier. A low, guttural sound ripped from his chest, something between a sob and a scream, raw and uncontained.

Six months of searching. Of fighting. Of holding onto hope—thin, fragile, fleeting hope—only for it to be ripped away in an instant.

He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He couldn’t breathe. Every inhale was a battle, every exhale a painful reminder that he was still here—and she wasn’t.

He could still hear her voice, so clear that it was as if she was sitting right beside him.

Well, it really is your lucky day, Halstead. Avery Clarke. Your new partner.

His throat closed up, another sob tearing through him. A thousand moments, a thousand memories flooded his mind, each one sharper, more painful than the last. He saw her everywhere. Heard her everywhere.

But she was gone.

A sudden burst of anger surged through him, cutting through the grief like a blade. His hands shook as he pushed himself up from the floor, his vision darkening at the edges from the force of his rage.

His fist flew before he could stop it. The bathroom mirror shattered on impact. Glass shards scattered across the counter, some embedding in his knuckles, but he barely felt the sting. His reflection was fractured, fragmented—just like him. He stared at it, his chest heaving, his pulse hammering in his ears as the blood dripped down his fingers, warm and sticky.

This wasn’t real.

This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be real.

The sky is still gray, the Chicago winter settling in thick and heavy as Jay pulls into the district parking lot. His truck rumbles to a stop, the engine ticking in protest as he cuts the ignition. He stays there for a moment, gripping the wheel with both hands, staring blankly at the brick wall in front of him.

He’s running on fumes. The sleepless nights, the weight of Hailey walking out, the relentless gnawing in his chest whenever he thinks about Avery—it’s all catching up to him. His body is sore, barely recovered, and his mind is wrecked. He doesn’t even want to think about what he is going to face when he walks in that building. And yet, somehow, the idea of stopping isn’t even an option.

Not when she still needs him.

With a heavy sigh, he grabs his gym bag from the passenger seat, shoving open the door and stepping into the biting cold. His breath clouds in front of him, but the crisp air does nothing to clear his head. He’s barely made it a few steps when he hears the familiar rumble of another engine pulling in. Jay glances up just as Voight’s black SUV rolls into a nearby spot. The older man climbs out, pulling his coat tighter against the wind, his sharp gaze landing on Jay instantly.

They both hesitate for a beat. A silent acknowledgment.

Jay sighs, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. He knows what’s coming.

“You look like hell,” Voight remarks, shutting his door with a solid thud.

He huffs out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well… it’s been a rough few weeks.”

Voight studies him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, instead of making his way to the door, he jerks his chin toward the entrance on the other side of the lot. “Walk with me.”

He exhales through his nose, knowing there’s no getting out of this. Jay falls into step beside the older man, their boots crunching lightly against the frost-dusted pavement. The silence stretches, bordering on uncomfortable as the cold air wraps around them.

Jay knows Voight isn’t the kind of guy to push, but when he speaks, his voice is steady, carrying that same unshakable authority he always has. “She told me.”

He doesn’t react right away, treading carefully. He keeps his gaze forward, hands still shoved into his pockets, “About what?”

“About you helping her,” Voight nods slightly. “About the deposit box.”

His jaw tightens. He shouldn’t be surprised but knowing what that secret cost him, that he lied to Hailey, makes his stomach twist in anger. “She wasn’t supposed to—”

“Relax,” Voight cuts him off, his voice calm but firm. “I’m not going to stop you.”

Jay frowns, glancing over at him. “You’re not?”

Voight gives a small shrug, “If I wanted to stop you, I would’ve done it already.”

He scoffs, shaking his head, “Then what? You’re just gonna let me keep breaking all the rules for her?” Maybe he wants Voight to stop them. To force him to walk away. Because he knows he’ll never do it on his own.

Voight stops walking, turning to face him fully and stopping him with a hand on his chest. “I’m here to make sure you don’t lose yourself in this.” His gaze is steady, unwavering. “You’ve been through a lot lately.”

Jay swallows hard, looking away. He exhales sharply, his breaths visible in the cold air. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore, Voight.”

Voight nods, like he’s been expecting that, “I know.”

He lets out a bitter chuckle, running a hand over his face. “I mean, jesus. I thought she was dead. And it took a while, but I made peace with that. And now she’s back, and it’s like—” he stops himself, shaking his head as frustration boils over. “Like I don’t even know her anymore.”

 “She’s been through hell, Jay,” the older man says after a beat of silence, “You know that.”

“What about what I’ve been through? What she put me through?” Jay lets out a sharp exhale, staring at the pavement, trying to keep his emotions under control because it is too damn early for this. “I’m trying to be there for her,” he mutters. “But it’s not that simple.”

“No, it’s not,” he agrees. “But nothing worth a damn ever is.”

Jay stares at him, his eyes dark with something unreadable. “She lied to me.”

“I know.”

“She let me believe she was gone. She didn’t give me a choice. Didn’t give us a choice.”

“I know,” Voight repeats, his voice steady.

Jay shakes his head, “And now she’s asking me to risk everything to help her with this.”

But Voight doesn’t flinch, “She’s not asking you to do anything she wouldn’t do for you.”

“That’s not the point,” he snaps, his frustration finally breaking through. Even though he knows it’s true, knows they’ve already been here before. Derek Keyes, Lonnie Rodiger, Terry, Ellie… She backed his play without question, without a second thought, whenever he needed it. She jumped in feet first, and he didn’t even have to ask. He takes a step back, raking a hand through his hair. “I can’t forgive her for what she did, Voight.”

Voight studies him carefully, his next words measured. “You’re angry. And you should be. But that anger isn’t just about what she did.” He pauses, letting it sink in, “It’s about how much you still care about her in spite of it.”

The heavy truth in the statement is too much and Jay has to look away, clenching his jaw.

“I know what you went through when we lost her,” Voight takes a step towards him. “I saw what it did to you. And I know you’re still carrying that with you. If anyone understands, you know I do.” A haunted look flickers in his eyes, memories of Justin and Alvin threatening to swallow him whole.

Jay swallows hard—two years of emptiness, of staring at an empty grave that shouldn’t exist, of drinking himself into numbness just to get through the night. “She’s not the same,” he murmurs. His voice is quieter now, tinged with something almost vulnerable. “She’s… harder. Colder. She refuses to let me in. And I don’t know how to reach her.”

Voight exhales, nodding slowly. “I know she’s different. And so are you.” He holds his gaze, “But if anyone can get through to her, it’s you.”

Jay lets out a sharp breath, shaking his head, “Why?” Why does it have to be me?

Voight’s voice is unwavering, “Because she trusts you. Because you know her better than anyone.”

Jay stiffens. His throat tightens, his stomach twisting in protest. He wants to argue, wants to deny it. The words are on the tip of his tongue. Not anymore… But they don’t come out. Because maybe, just maybe, Voight isn’t wrong.

He looks down, his hands curling into fists in his pockets, “I don’t know if I can do this, Hank.”

“You can.” His voice is gentler, in that gruff, Voight way as he claps a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring, “And you will. Because she needs you. And whether you want to admit it or not… you need her too.”

He stands there, frozen, as the words sink in. Jay doesn’t know where he and Avery stand. Doesn’t know if there’s a way forward. But as he watches Voight walk inside the garage, his words echo in his head.

Because she needs you. And you need her too.

Jay exhales, his breath shaky. Then, finally, he heads inside.

The locker room is quiet, a stark contrast to the usual chaos of the district. Jay leans against the metal bench, head tilted back against the cool lockers as he lets out a slow, controlled breath. He should be at his desk. He should be doing something productive, catching up on paperwork. Instead, he’s here, hiding.

Avoiding.

It’s been like this for days. Ever since Hailey left his apartment, ever since their relationship officially crashed and burned. Every second between them is tense and awkward, leaving him wishing he was anywhere else. And when they aren’t forced to be interacting for work, he can feel her gaze watching him. Studying his every move, every interaction. And Avery? That’s been worse.

She hasn’t done anything wrong. No probing questions, no comments, no knowing looks. Nothing. She’s just there, in his space, existing like things are supposed to be normal when nothing is. And even though it shouldn’t, even though he should be more affected by the dooming of his relationship, that kills him more than anything.

Because of that, he’s been keeping his distance at work, making sure their conversations stay short. Professional. But it doesn’t matter. He can feel his partner’s eyes on him whenever Avery’s near, can see the tension ripple through her every time he and Avery so much as breathe in the same direction.

And now? The guilt is suffocating.

So he’s here, in the goddamn locker room, hiding like a coward.

The door creaks open, and he immediately straightens. He’s not sure who he expects, fearing it’ll be Hailey with another conversation he’s not ready for, fearing she’ll tell him that their partnership is over too. But instead, Adam strolls in, his expression casual but his movements deliberate.

“Got a minute?” Adam asks lightly, but there’s an edge behind it.

Jay narrows his eyes, already bracing himself for whatever’s coming. “Yeah.”

Adam doesn’t sit. He stands across from him, arms crossed, lips pressing into a thin line before cutting straight to it. “What’s going on with you and Avery?”

Shaking his head with an eye roll and a scoff, he stands and moves to root around inside his locker. “What are you talking about, man?”

“You drove her to work this morning,” the younger man says with an unimpressed eyebrow raised.

“She had a migraine last night and didn’t want to drive, so I gave her a ride home,” he lies without skipping a beat. The reality is that they left straight from work to spend the night in his truck, watching the warehouse for any sign of Nikolai Volkov, both of them pretending the distance between them wasn’t getting growing with every second of silence.

Adam eyes him, his protective side outweighing anything else. He can’t stand to see his best friend get hurt when she is just barely finding her footing. But he can see how much it’s killing her. He lets out a long sigh, “Look, I get it. I know it must’ve hurt when she wanted me to be her partner and asked for some space. I know you want to be friends. But if this is going to mess with her head—”

“Mess with her head?” Jay cuts him off, his voice rising slightly as he turns to face him. “I don’t need a lecture from you of all people.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks, annoyed at whatever implication lingers in the air.

Jay tilts his head, gritting his teeth painfully. He wonders just how much he can push this, how far he can stretch the lie in order to get the truth. “She told me what happened between you two,” he says carefully, baiting.

Stiffening, his eyes flicker with surprise for a brief moment before he schools his expression. She said she wasn’t going to, but maybe she changed her mind once he decided to tell Kim, wanting a clean slate as they try to make their relationship work. Adam narrows his eyes, “She told you?”

“Yeah.” His jaw clenches, knowing by the reaction that he was right to suspect something happened between them. “So don’t sit here and act like you’re just her protective big brother.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Adam shakes his head defensively, his frustration mounting.

Jay crosses his arms tightly over his chest, “Then what was it like?”

“It was,” he hesitates, “complicated.”

He throws his head back, barking out a humorless laugh. “Complicated? Kim’s having your kid, and the best you can do is complicated?”

Temper flaring, Adam grits out, “It was one time. It was right after she came back, we were drinking—”

“That makes it better?” he shoots back with a step forward.

“Look,” his patience snaps, voice rising, “she needed someone. Someone who actually gave a damn about her when she was falling apart. Where the hell were you?”

The words nearly knock him off his feet, and Jay stops breathing for a moment. His hands curl into fists, because he can’t think about that. He can barely stomach the guilt he is already feeling. So instead, he focuses on the pure anger that threatens to overtake him at the image that flashes behind his eyes. “So, you—what? Decided to help her with your dick?”

Adam’s face darkens, his fists twitching at his sides. “Oh, fuck off, Halstead. You weren’t there. You didn’t see how broken she was seeing that you moved on.” His voice lowers, but the intensity remains. “So yeah, I was there for her. Not for some hookup. Not for whatever bullshit you think this is. But because I actually care about her. And maybe if you weren’t lying to yourself, wrapped up in your own guilt, you’d see that too.”

The jealousy, the frustration, the anger—it all collides, white-hot and uncontrollable as the words are like a match to gasoline. Jay doesn’t think. His fist collides with Adam’s jaw before he even realizes it. The impact reverberates through his arm, fingers flexing at the dull ache already forming.

Adam stumbles back, his hand flying to his face. His eyes blaze with fury as he whirls back around. “Bro, what the fuck is wrong with you?” he shouts, shoving the other man’s chest roughly.

“Hey!” Avery’s voice slices through the air, her footsteps echoing as she storms into the room. “What the hell is going on in here?”

Both men freeze, their heavy breathing filling the silence as Avery moves between them without hesitation, her eyes darting between their tense, furious faces. Her gaze locks on Jay, narrowing as she takes in the flush on his face and the way his fist is still clenched. “Did you punch him?” she demands sharply.

Jay doesn’t answer, his jaw tightening as he finally breaks away from Adam’s glare. But he can’t look at her, can’t see what he knows is in her waiting eyes.

Already knowing the answer, Avery scoffs before rounding on her partner. “And you—what did you say to him?”

Adam rubs his jaw, moving it back and forth gently. “Nothing he didn’t deserve.”

She groans in frustration, running a hand through her hair, fingers getting caught in the tangles. “Unbelievable. You two are supposed to be professionals, friends, and you’re in here fighting like children. Over what? Me?”

When Adam opens his mouth, she places a strong hand against his chest with a light shove that forces him a half-step back, and Jay tries to hide the fact that he notices. “I don’t need you to defend my honor,” she chastises, only turning away when he lowers his head sheepishly. Avery narrows her eyes at Jay, “What is your problem?”

Jay’s eyes finally snap to hers, his frustration and jealousy lingering below the surface. He grits his teeth, his pulse still pounding with the low hum of adrenaline. He knows this isn’t about Adam. Not really. It’s about… everything. The distance, reminding him that he doesn’t know her anymore. The nights spent in his truck, twisting him into thinking that no time has passed. The way she keeps looking at him like they didn’t leave each other in pieces. Like she didn’t leave him in pieces, shattered like that blood-smeared glass.

Clearing his throat, Adam’s voice is quieter now, more resigned. “I’m gonna go.” He throws Avery one last glance before turning and walking out, his footsteps heavy as the door clicks shut behind him.

Avery doesn’t take her eyes off Jay, her frustration crackling in the stale air. “I told you to stop making this about Adam,” she seethes. “You don’t get to pick fights with him just because you’re pissed at me.”

“You really think this is about Adam?” he asks, voice low and rough as he takes a step toward her. She folds her arms, but there’s something else in her eyes now. Wariness. Hurt. A challenge lingers, though, and Jay huffs out a bitter laugh when she just arches a brow, shaking his head before dragging a hand over his face. “You really don’t get it, do you?

“Then enlighten me,” she bites out quickly. She thought they were over this. That they were moving forward—or at least settling into something more tenable, an understanding that they could co-exist in.

He takes another step closer, the heat between them palpable, the space between them charged with everything they still haven’t said. “You come back from the dead, and you act like I’m the one who changed,” he grits out. “Like I’m the problem. You push me away, tell me we need distance, and then what? Drag me back in like this is some kind of game?”

She flinches, just barely, but it’s enough for him to see it. “You think I planned that?” Avery snaps, stepping toe to toe, pretending like she isn’t afraid. Not of him, no. But of them—the two of them, together. “You think I wanted to wake up in a hospital bed with two years of my life missing?”

His jaw clenches impossibly tight, the pain somehow grounding him. “Then why the hell have you spent every second since you came back acting like I’m the one who left you?” Her breath hitches audibly, but Jay doesn’t stop. He can’t. He’s done holding this in. “You chose Adam as your partner. You kept your distance. It took days for you to come see me when I almost died, and then you just walked out,” he spits out, his voice breaking. “And now you want to act like I’m the bad guy? When I’m still putting everything on the line to help you?”

Deafening silence stretches between them, heavy and suffocating. Her lips press into a tight line, her hands clenching at her sides. “You think this has been easy for me?” she finally whispers, her voice shaking. “I know what I did, the choices I made. But I didn’t choose to have my entire life ripped away from me.”

His chest tightens as tears well in her eyes, “Avery…”

“No, you don’t get to be the victim here,” she says, voice raw, stepping even closer until there’s barely a breath between them. “You didn’t have to wake up in a nightmare. You didn’t have to piece together a past you don’t even remember. You didn’t have to see the man you—” she stops herself, sucking in a shaky breath before continuing. “The man you thought was still yours, standing in the hallway, holding someone else’s hand.”

His throat goes dry at the realization. She saw him. She woke up confused and hurt. And instead of opening her eyes to him at her side, she saw him with Hailey.

“I woke up like it was one day,” Avery’s voice breaks.

His hands tremble at his sides as he swallows roughly, “Ave.”

Her face twists, her walls slamming back into place. “You want to be mad at me? Fine. But don’t you dare pretend like you’re the only one who got hurt.”

Jay looks away, his jaw tight as he forces himself to breathe. She’s right. Of course she’s right. But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.

“You should go,” she mutters, stepping back in desperate need of space. “Before we say something we can’t take back.”

But Jay doesn’t move.

He should. He knows he should.

Instead, he does something stupid.

He reaches out.

His fingers brush against her wrist, and she sucks in a sharp breath, her entire body going still. Her pulse beats wildly under his fingertips, and for a second—just a second—she lets him hold on.

Then she yanks her arm away like he’s burned her.

“This isn’t fair,” Avery whispers, voice barely audible.

Jay swallows hard, “No. It’s not.”

She takes another step back, putting real distance between them now. “We can’t keep doing this.” I can’t keep doing this.

He exhales slowly as something twists in his stomach. A heavy, overwhelming sense of dread. Finally, he nods, “I know.”

Neither of them moves. Neither of them leaves.

The locker room door creaks open again, and they both snap their heads toward it.

Kevin’s slightly wide-eyed gaze flicks between them, eyebrows raising high into his forehead. “Uh… is this a bad time?”

Blinking rapidly, Avery shakes her head before turning on her heel and forcing a smile. “No. I was just leaving.”

Jay watches her go, his stomach dropping as she pushes past Kev without another word.

The bass from the speakers pulses through Avery’s chest, the thrum of the music matching the erratic rhythm of her heartbeat. The bar is crowded, bodies pressing together on the dance floor, voices raised in laughter and conversation that blurs into a dull roar. She sits at the bar, her half-empty glass of whiskey in front of her, the amber liquid catching the flashing neon lights that paint the room in shades of red and blue.

Her head was heavy, spinning slightly as she takes another sip, the alcohol burning its way down her throat. It doesn’t taste good—not really—but it helps. Helps blur the sharp edges of her thoughts, dulls the ache that’s been clawing at her chest all week.

She hasn’t talked to Jay since their fight in the locker room. Since he grabbed her wrist. Since she yanked away. He hasn’t come to the stakeouts the last two nights, leaving her to sit in her car alone, the silence screaming at her. He hasn’t offered, and she hasn’t asked.

She should be glad. Should be relieved.

Instead, she feels like the tight coil that was barely holding her together is unraveling.

More memories have been coming back every single time she closed her eyes, jagged and painful, clawing their way to the surface no matter how much she tried to bury them. Her mind flickers to Nikolai, to the sound of her own screams echoing in that cold, damp room. To his voice, low and cruel, asking her over and over, Who are you?

Avery squeezes her eyes shut, pressing her fingers to her temples as if she could will the images away. But they are relentless, invading her thoughts like a storm she couldn’t escape. Everything feels tangled and messy, her emotions an unbearable weight she can only lessen with alcohol.

She hates herself for how much she thinks about Jay. Every moment they spend together feels like a lifeline, but it also reopens old wounds. She thought she was doing the right thing by pushing him away, by letting him move on with Hailey. But now, she isn’t sure. She misses him. But it’s clear how hurt and angry he is. She doesn’t know how much longer they can do this back and forth before one of them breaks, shatters into so many pieces that it’ll be impossible to glue back together. What they have now isn’t sustainable, not in this job. Not with both of them in this unit.

“Avery.” The voice comes from beside her, smooth, familiar. She blinks, looking up to find one of the club’s regulars Mark—or maybe Matt?—leaning against the bar next to her. His lips curl into a knowing smirk. “Didn’t expect to see you here again,” he says, tilting his head as his eyes rake over her. “You good?”

She forces a smirk, even though her stomach is twisting. “Do I not look good?”

He chuckles, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small baggie. A few little white pills clink together inside. He holds it between two fingers, offering them to her like a gift. “Here. This’ll help.”

Her breath catches in her throat, her pulse quickening as her eyes narrow in on the bag. Her body reacts before her mind can catch up, her hand curling tightly around her glass as she fights the urge to reach for it.

It would be so easy. One pill. One small pill to take the edge off. Just enough to forget. To stop the memories, the guilt, the pain.

The man leans closer, taking out two of the pills and slipping them into her hand, “On the house. You look like you could use it.”

Avery stares at them, rolling them in her palm experimentally. The urge is a living thing, crawling up her throat, sinking its claws into her skin.

Just one.

She needs to get out of here. Slamming her palm on the table, she quickly jumps to her feet. His words of protest come, but she doesn’t hear it. She’s already backing away, shoving through the crowd of drunk people, her breaths coming painfully fast.

Her feet carry her out of the club and into the cold Chicago night, the icy air slapping her in the face. Her hands shake as she digs her phone out of her pocket. She barely registers what she’s doing, who she’s calling. Her fingers move on autopilot.

The call rings twice before Adam picks up, his voice groggy, “Hello?”

“Can I come over?” she asks, her voice hoarse, barely above the pounding of the music that can still be heard from the sidewalk.

There’s a pause on the other end, then a quiet sigh. “Yeah. Of course.”

She nods even though he can’t see it, mumbling a quick, “Be there soon,” before hanging up. She stares at the screen for a moment, her breath hitching, before she slips the phone back in her pocket. Avery’s feet start moving before her mind can catch up, the wind biting into her skin and sobering her up just slightly. With every step, she has to fight the desire to turn around. To go back inside that club, back to that guy and back to those magic little pills that can take away all the hurt and the anger and the guilt.

The streets are quiet, the snow falling softly around her as she makes her way through the city, still on edge. Her breath comes in short, visible puffs, her boots crunching against the frozen pavement. She doesn’t know what she was going to say when she gets there. She’s still pissed at him for starting a fight with Jay. How am I the bad guy when I’m the one who got sucker punched? His disbelieving voice rings in her head making a small smile tug at her lips, just enough to distract her for a moment.

When Avery reaches the apartment building, she stares up at the brick and blinks slowly, trying to make sense of her fragmented thoughts. She bites her lip, realizing that she probably shouldn’t be here. Before she can decide to cut and run, though, an older man with a dog opens the door and she slips inside with a casual smile. Her mind races as she climbs the stairs, the beat of the club’s music still thrumming under her skin. By the time she reaches the door, her breathing is shallow, her emotions a tangled mess. She raises her hand, hesitating for a split second before knocking.

prev . . . next

[gigglesandfreckles-hp]

hi abi! hope you're doing good! since I'm curious, I wanted to ask for a prompt with number 100 from your wrapped!

(what was that one song that just barely made it onto your most listened to list? 👀)

And I am freaking out in the middle of the street With the complete conviction of someone who's never had anything actually really bad happen to them But I am committed now to the feeling Choreomania by Florence + the Machine

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Shit.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god. James!”

The voices sound distant, warped, like echoes trapped in a seashell. He used to press them to his ear on the beach as a kid, listening to the rush of waves with his mum and dad. Sandbanks. He hasn’t been there in years.

“Sirius!” Lily’s voice sharpens, louder now, though still strangely far away. “Go get a teacher! I’ll stay with him—I’ll…Rennervate.”

Warmth floods through him, pulling him out of the cold, aching numbness. His joints feel sluggish, his muscles protesting as they remember how to move. Lily is on the ground beside him in an instant, pulling his head into her lap, her hair cascading down like a curtain around his face, obscuring his view of her.

He feels an odd surge of frustration. He wants to see her.

She’s so pretty.

“James. James, look at me.”

“Trying,” he manages, his voice hoarse and barely audible.

She lets out a laugh, a sound of relief so raw it makes his chest tighten. Her forehead drops to his, her breath warm against his face.

“You’re freezing, Potter,” she murmurs, her hands cupping his cheeks. He wonders if she knows they’re icy, the touch almost jarring, but he doesn’t want her to stop touching him.

“Say something,” she demands, giving him a small shove even as her lips brush against his in a kiss that’s searing but far too brief. “What happened, James? Talk to me.”

He wants her to keep kissing him.

“James,” she repeats, and her voice wavers now, breaking. “Please. You’re—you’re scaring me.”

“They hexed me,” he croaks. “Body-bind.”

“Who?” she asks, her tone instantly snapping to fury. She hisses through her teeth. “I’m going to burn Slytherin House to the ground, I swear to God. If Slughorn doesn’t get his shit together and—” She stops abruptly, shaking her head and turning her focus back to him. She brushes her hair behind her ears, and he smiles faintly. He can see her now.

“I don’t understand. How did they find you? What were you doing out here?”

“I was flying,” he mutters. “Didn’t even see them—”

“They hexed you while you were flying?” she cries, her voice rising in anger. “They could have fucking killed you.”

He doesn’t know if he should tell her that was probably their intent or let her draw her own conclusion.

Lily’s grip on him tightens. “Sirius has gone to get a teacher,” she says quickly. “Can you walk? Did they—” Her voice falters, trembling. “I mean, was it just a body-bind? You’re not bleeding. I don’t—please open your eyes and look at me, James.”

He obeys, blinking up at her, but the sight only seems to make her sadder.

“Jesus,” she whispers. Her fingers leave his cheek, and for a moment, he panics, but then she retrieves her wand and casts a warming spell over him. The heat seeps into his limbs, dulling the worst of the cold. She sets the wand aside, her hand returning to his hair, softly carding her fingers through his curls.

“They have my mum, Lily,” he says suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her fingers freeze. “What? You found out—”

He shakes his head, the motion weak. “No. Not any names. But they—Mulciber and Dolohov. Avery. They were talking about her. After they attacked me. Saying my Christmas… that it—”

“Oh, James,” she sighs, her voice breaking as her thumbs brush over his cheeks. He realises belatedly that he’s crying.

“What if she—’’

“No,” Lily cuts him off firmly.

“Lily, I—” His breath hitches, a sob escaping. “I’m not strong like you. I can’t…I can’t—”

“Sh,” she soothes, her voice low and steady. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, James Potter. Besides, you heard the Aurors. Mad-Eye himself is on the case. They’ll get her back, and your family will have the loveliest Christmas of your life. All three of you. And Sirius,” she adds, a wet laugh escaping her.

“You’re my family, too, Evans,” he says.

A small, shaky smile crosses her lips. “I love you, you know.”

“Do you really think she—”

“I do,” she interrupts, leaning down to capture his lips in another kiss, this one softer, lingering, and full of promises he desperately wants to believe.