Still yours, almost || Nathan MacKinnon
Author: Sydney / @sydnikov
Pairing: Nathan MacKinnon / fem!Reader
Word Count: 5.1k
Warnings: poorly proof read, cursing, angst, a kiss, I think that’s it?
A/N: This is so late I'm so sorry 😭 work was insane the past month so I really struggled to find the time to write. Anywayssss… I had the honor of writing for the lovely owner herself, @wyattjohnston for her summer fic exchange! Kinda just winged it with the whole wedding schedule, I haven't been to one in 6 years and I especially don’t know what the makar’s wedding was like lol. Other than that, I really hope you like it! It was an honor to write for you 🫡
You spot him before he spots you.
He’s wearing a navy suit that fits just a little too well, the tie slightly loosened. Typical. Effortlessly sharp. Irritatingly magnetic. Standing at the bar with a few of his teammates, most you recognize but some are new, too.
It’s just another reminder of how you’re no longer in each other’s lives. You’d know those new teammates if you weren’t so distant, so cold, and yet you still can’t help but watch from afar, unable to let go.
You force your eyes away and breathe deep. It’s been years since you last saw Nathan MacKinnon, your last time together being an emotional, fiery break-up despite how you tried so hard to keep you together.
The scenery of the very western, very nature-themed wedding does little to distract your thoughts now. Refusing to linger, you make your way through the socializing crowd dispersed throughout the outdoor space, wondering if you can find a familiar face.
Faces you think you might know occasionally cross your line of sight but you can’t quite tell if it’s wishful thinking on your part, just desperate to see a friend.
The wedding of an old acquaintance, Cale Makar, found you back in Colorado before you could blink. In truth, it was too tempting to not return to your old stomping grounds, the curiosity to see how everyone was doing was too strong to ignore.
Unfortunately, that also meant the likelihood of you running into your ex was practically guaranteed. It’s hard to say if that was the only reason you decided to come to begin with.
You never really did get over Nathan. The break-up wasn’t even your idea—it was his, claiming how hockey (it’s always hockey) was getting to his head, that he needed to be alone and think. The season was getting hard, there was pressure from his coaches, his teammates, the media… It was something you should have seen coming; everyone warned you that getting with a professional hockey player was a bad idea.
But you saw past all the warnings, and you fell for the sweet words, the romantic gestures, the warm look in his eye every time he’d talk to you. Nathan is everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner: smart, driven, unabashedly loyal, a good lover, and most of all? Unafraid to show to the world how much he loved you.
That’s why it caught you so off-guard when he asked you to come over one night and dropped the mega bomb that was wanting to break-up. The ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech made several rounds that night as you questioned him, unable to comprehend how his decision came out of nowhere.
To this day, you’re still sure he regrets doing it. You can’t prove it, but you know Nathan, and despite your friends and family telling you not to, you kept up with him in the media. Read every microexpression on his face, saw how tense and uptight he became in those weeks after leaving you.
He kept up with you, too. Liked all your posts on social media, watched every one of your stories, and one of the girlfriends you kept in touch with on the Avalanche even reported to you he had asked how you were doing one time.
So, despite how one-sided the break-up appeared at the time, you trust your gut and just know that ‘I need less distractions’ was just a ruse. You’re not sure if you’re ready to unveil said-ruse just yet.
Seeing Nathan again still sends a violent swarm of butterflies churning in your gut, though, so you quickly decide you need a few drinks before even thinking about being in a conversation with him. If you still want one with him.
The bar is taken, however, unofficially by the very man you want to avoid, so you’ll have to wait. You swiftly turn around and walk in the opposite direction, weaving through the crowd to put as much space between you as possible.
Just as you’re passing under a rather pretty arch of dangling vines and flowers, a call of your name has you pausing in surprise. You look over to where the call came from to see a smiling face and eager wave beckoning you to come over.
You think you recognize her; her hair is longer than you last remembered, the blonde color lighter than the shade you last saw her in, but you’d remember her face anywhere because it mirrors the same one you’ve been trying to avoid.
“Hey, Sarah,” you greet with a smile, truly happy to see an old friend in such an unfamiliar place. “How are you doing? It’s been a bit.”
“‘A bit’?” she says, arching an eyebrow at your choice of words. “It’s been years, you practically disappeared.” Sarah says this all lightly, but there’s an undercurrent of pity and concern you’re able to pick up in-between the lines.
You shrug sheepishly, wanting to avoid the topic you know will inevitably be brought up. “Yeah… Sorry about that. I’ve been travelling, you know, it just kind of got hard trying to keep up through all the timezones.”
It wasn’t a lie. You took time off work - a luxury you don’t take advantage of often - moved a good chunk of your savings into your checking, and booked your first trip as far away from Colorado as possible.
Catch planes, not feelings, they say. You remember thinking you should’ve taken that saying more literally a lot sooner.
“Well,” Sarah says, suddenly pulling you into a tight hug. “I’m just glad I found you. Let’s catch up, yeah?”
You nod, grateful at her attempts to not make you feel more uncomfortable than you already are. She walks a few steps ahead of you, leading you through the crowd when you realize she’s heading towards the bar, where he still occupies.
“Sarah?” You quickly walk up behind her, tapping her arm. “Can we… Um, can we talk somewhere else?” Your words are weak, soft and shameful, as your eyes dart from your old friend to her brother and back.
You two were close for a reason, though, as even after all your time away, she still reads you like a book. Her confusion turns to sympathy and all she does is nod before pivoting directions, leading you back the way you came except this time you fully pass through the arch until you’re outside.
“Tracy did so good choosing this venue.” Sarah says as she breaks the silence, a serene smile on her face as she takes a moment to admire the scenery.
You don’t quite agree with her sentiment, finding it all just a bit tacky and very Canadian despite being in Colorado. Regardless, though, you can’t argue that parts of the venue are gorgeous, including the area the two of you find yourselves in.
“I’m glad they finally decided to tie the knot,” you reply, thinking back to when you first met Tracy and Cale and immediately admired the connection between them. “They’re so good for each other, honestly.”
Sarah turns to look at you then, her easygoing smile turning to a slight frown as she regards you with what looks like concern. You hate the look on her face as you’d rather just pretend the last few years never even happened.
That you never fell in love with her brother, that you never got your heart destroyed and ran away without saying goodbye.
She says your name cautiously, coming to stand more closely in front of you. “You… Are you okay? Genuinely. I—we all think about you, and you just left without ever really talking about it.”
You stay silent, unable to reply. What would you even say? ‘I’m actually still in love with Nathan, sadly, so talking about him feels like a million knives stabbing my heart at once’.
“He made a mistake, a big one. Said it himself.”
Your eyes snap towards her at once, the shock on your face confirming something inside Sarah as she seems to nod to herself before continuing.
“I don’t—”
“He’s always done that, even as a kid. Self-sabotaging anything good in his life because he thought he had to earn it, not just have it given freely.”
Sarah stares at you. You stare back.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Sarah,” you finally say, crossing your arms in defeat. “It was always going to be hockey for him. It would always come first, I knew that, even if his excuse was shitty, and at the end of the day that’s what he chose.”
Never one to curse, your friend’s next words shocked you. “He fucked up with you. Big time. I know he still regrets it, would probably die just to have the chance to speak with you.”
“He doesn’t know I’m here?” you ask, surprised. Cale is his best friend, surely he’d tell him if his ex-flame was coming to his wedding?
Sarah shakes her head. “I don’t think he ever asked, and Cale definitely wasn’t going to bring it up. Nathan’s still so torn over you.”
“You two must talk about me a lot.” you say dryly, deflecting the opening she’s trying to give you.
“We don’t have to. I know him so well I can just tell what he’s thinking without having to ask. Perk of being siblings,” she replies flippantly, giving you a wry smile in response.
“Well,” you say with a sigh. “I’m not going out of my way to talk to him. He’ll have to find me himself, if he ever even realizes I’m here.”
Sarah gets a contemplative look on her face that quickly turns to mischief. You narrow your eyes at her, immediately suspicious. “And don’t go telling him I’m here either, yeah? I know you.”
She puts her hands up in defense, merely turning to walk with you as you make your way back inside for the reception dinner. Time passed a lot more quicker than you realized, as the social hour before the dinner was entirely spent talking with your friend.
The tables have finally finished being set up as you look around. There’s a seating arrangement chart on the other side of the room but it’s currently surrounded by a large crowd also trying to find their seat, so you settle for walking around the tables and reading the name tags to locate yours. Sarah, already knowing where she sits, keeps you company as you look for your name while making idle small talk.
“How about the guys abroad? Did you meet anyone? Have a favorite country?”
Only half listening to her as you scan the tables, your replies are short and offhanded. “Spain or Denmark, maybe,”
Finally, you find your name with a triumphant grin. Placing the strap of your bag along the back of the chair, you take a moment to examine the other names on the table, only to be extremely surprised to find Sarah’s nametag right next to yours.
You look up to your friend with a frown. “You let me wander around looking for my seat all while knowing I was right next to you?”
Sarah shrugs guiltily. “Surprise?”
“Nathan is probably sitting at this table too, I bet,” you say mockingly, chuckling a bit to yourself until you see the expression on her face.
You immediately scan the room in panic. “Sarah,” you hiss. “Is he sitting here?”
“I didn’t make the seating chart!”
“But you made a suggestion to Tracy, didn’t you?” Tracy is Cale’s fiancée, now wife.
Heaving a sigh, your friend pulls out her seat to sit down, gesturing for you to do the same. “None of us liked how you two ended. So, yeah, maybe we meddled a bit.”
If you were ready to face him you’d thank her. Definitely not now, though.
You go to anxiously rub your eyes before remembering your make-up. Looking at the other nametag to your right, you release a quick breath of relief to at least see he won’t be right next to you. “Where’s he sitting, then?”
Sarah points across the circular table. You can’t read the name tag to confirm, but you believe her when she points out a few of the other names of some teammates you know Cale is close to, too.
You refrain from sprinting in the other direction as you see everyone begin to sit in their seats. Against your better health, you scan the room for Nathan. It doesn’t take you long to find him as he towers over most people, and you could recognize that blonde hair and chiselled jawline anywhere.
He still hasn’t noticed you yet. He’s distracted by what looks like another teammate who is also sitting at the table with you, and he hasn’t even looked away as they walk closer.
You decide to play nonchalant. You grab the glass of water to the right of your plate, feigning disinterest as you sip slowly and look off into the distance. His voice becomes distinguishable as he gets closer; you think he’s talking about hockey.
Shocker.
You can tell the moment he sees you because he abruptly stops speaking. You aren’t looking at him but you know he’s taking you in, eyes roaming over your face, hair, the manicured hand holding your water, the dress you’re wearing that flatters your body quite nicely.
He’s completely silent. You know Sarah, Nathan’s teammate, anyone else having come to sit at the table is eyeing the tension between you nervously.
Finally, you decide to look at him before it becomes obvious you’re avoiding him. You meet Nathan’s eyes, clear blue swallowed by blown pupils which swell as you hold eye contact for the first time in years.
Nathan looks anguished as he stares at you. He doesn’t speak - you don’t think he can - and he doesn’t move. It’s slightly unsettling as you squirm in your seat from such intense examination. Nobody dares to break the ice; they wait for either you or him to speak.
After several long, uncomfortable seconds, he finally says your name. It’s whispered, soft, and ten other emotions mixed in that you can’t even begin to unravel. You settle for merely giving a small smile, taking another moment to appreciate the man before you even if it’s painful.
“Hey,” you say, quiet and unsure.
“Hey,” Nathan says back. His mouth shuts immediately after, and you know that’s the end of this very short, very tense exchange of words. You’d call it a conversation, but you don’t think saying your name and ‘hey’ really counts.
Someone taps their glass with a fork, the resounding ‘ding!’ effectively quieting all conversation in the room. You breathe a small sigh of relief, happy to not have to stare awkwardly at everyone around the table for ten minutes until dinner is served.
A woman you don’t recognize but who you can safely guess to be of importance to Tracy, the bride, starts to tearfully speak. It’s not a long speech as everyone is antsy to eat, but it’s enough to tug at everyone’s heart strings as servers bring out dishes of food to hand out to everyone.
Against your better judgement, her words also sent a sharp pang of longing through your chest. You wish you could have your best friend give an emotional speech for you at your wedding, you wish you were the lucky bride getting married to the love of your life.
Your eyes shift to Nathan out of instinct. He’s already looking at you, broody and intense and wanting. You swallow past the lump in your throat and look away.
He already had his chance with you, you tell yourself. A few desperate looks and longing expressions won’t get you to fold that easily.
Alcohol is served at the same time as dinner. You’re able to place drink orders with the servers for only an hour after food is handed out, and after that you have to order at the bar. People start to finish their dinner shortly, as everyone begins to disperse again. Most head towards the bar, others head to the dance floor where a hired DJ is already blasting music, and the rest are content to either stay in their seats or mingle around the room.
You were attempting to rush towards the bar along with everyone else but Sarah grabs your arm and redirects you before you even get in line. She drags you towards the dance floor, where of course ‘Cupid Shuffle’ has already started.
“Isn’t this a little basic? I think they played this seven times during my senior prom.” you ask Sarah with a laugh, and despite your criticism eagerly participate in the steps.
She merely grins, shrugging with a laugh of her own. Time slips away and the next thing you know you’re sweaty, face flushed red, and feet aching in your heels when you finally have enough and exit the floor.
Sarah, somehow, has as much energy as when you first started dancing. She gives you a questioning look, to which you just gesture that you’re heading out to give your body (mostly your feet) a break.
By this point the crowd at the bar has mostly dispersed, so you’re able to order a drink with little wait time. You receive it within seconds and then make your way to the outside area of the venue. Pushing open the glass doors off to the side of the room, you step out and take a giant breath of fresh air.
The light layer of sweat over your body cools as a light, chilling breeze sweeps through, sending goosebumps up and down your arms. It feels too refreshing for you to care, so you simply sip on your drink and serenely admire the environment around you.
You don’t miss that the whole situation is entirely too cliche, straight out of a Hallmark romance movie. Especially as you lean over the balcony, resting your arms on the railing like the protagonist waiting for their lover to find them.
Perhaps it’s not too far off the mark, though. Your heartbeat picks up a little at the thought, that maybe he will seek you out after all. It definitely would fit the theme if you were in a Hallmark movie, right?
The universe would agree with you, apparently. You hear the doors open behind you. You already know who it is without having to look.
“What are you doing out here by yourself?”
“Breathing. Drinking,” you reply, exhaling loudly. You still refuse to look at him and take a long sip from your glass. “Kinda fitting, no? Happy wedding, happy guests, all except for one who has to go outside and brood. ‘Fresh air’ being the main excuse. Am I in a Hallmark movie?”
Nathan, who normally pulls off expressionless quite effortlessly, looks at you with wide eyes. He’s not sure what to make of the slightly tipsy you after all these years, firing off questions like they have a timer.
“I guess if we’re going off of timely coincidences that have vague undercurrents of romantic tension,” he starts, tentatively. “Then yes, you are in a Hallmark movie.”
“Fucking fantastic.” you mutter. He hears you, though.
“At least we’re co-stars together.”
You finally turn to face him. He’s standing next to you, copying your stance and leaning over the railing of the balcony. “Since when did you get a vocabulary like that?”
Nathan suddenly laughs. He’s clearly caught off-guard by your question; god, how he missed your quick wit.
“I read some books,” he answers. “Finally looked at that recommendation list you gave me, what? Three months into dating?”
You don’t have an answer for him. You just keep staring, taking in the features you’d missed now that’s right in front of you. Damn, he still looks good.
“Funny how it took you leaving for me to check it out.” This one is said softly, like he’s afraid of the reaction he’s going to get for saying it. There’s caution in his eyes, trying to read the new lines and twitches of your face he’d missed over the years of you being gone.
With an exhale, you turn back and face the scenery before you. You’re staring particularly hard at an oddly shaped leaf when you reply. “You’re the one who wanted me to go, Nathan,”
“I know,” he says, his voice ever so slightly breaking at the end. “I know. And I regret it more than anything.”
You shake your head immediately, as if you could shove the words he just said back into his mouth where they came from. “I… I don’t think I’m sober enough for this conversation.”
Nathan takes a step away immediately, trying to respect your space.
“Okay,” he runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tick that never went away. “That’s okay. Whenever you’re ready to talk. If you’re ready to talk.”
Taking a moment to breathe, you fully turn to face him. Despite his size, Nathan looks small under the heat of your unrelenting gaze as if he wants whatever you’re looking for to be approved. You think back to your conversation with Sarah and the brokenness you felt, the hurt, and decide that speaking on better terms would be a good thing.
Healing, or being confronted with hard things. Whatever your therapist says.
“When are you flying out?”
“Not until Monday,”
You nod, thinking of when you yourself are flying back home. Or, it’s not really your home but rather your parents. You haven’t exactly had a home as you were travelling abroad. Your flight doesn’t leave until Sunday night, or tomorrow—the whole day is practically free.
“Okay,” you say. “My flight doesn’t leave until tomorrow night, you can buy me coffee in the morning. Does that work for you?”
Nathan nods immediately without even taking a second to think. “Yeah, that’s fine. Not hotel coffee, right?”
Your lips quirk up into a small smile. “You remembered?”
The smile he gives you is criminal. Sweet, caring, everything underneath the hard exterior he puts up for others. “Of course… I never forgot.”
You wake up early the next day, unable to sleep. Your mind is running rampant with all the possible scenarios for how coffee with Nathan will go.
Does he even remember your order, like he said?
He confirms the time with you as you’re in the middle of brushing your teeth. Your motions pause as your phone lights up, a text from an unsaved number coming in. As you quickly wipe away the toothpaste mustache on your upper-lip, you type a response that you hope sounds casual.
Hey, it’s Nathan. I got your number from Sarah. Does 9 work for coffee?
Yeah, 9 works fine. Thank you
Checking the time, you see it’s only eight thirty. As you’re only meeting in the hotel lobby, you don’t bother panicking yourself with rushing (or at least try) and take the time to do your makeup.
No, you’re not trying to impress him. You just… Want to look good. Because you’ll be in public. That’s it.
When it’s eight fifty-five you leave your room to the elevators, pressing the button for ground floor and tap your fingers rhythmically to the elevator music.
Your heartbeat speeds up as the doors open to a scarcely populated lobby. You figure that most people have flown out earlier, or are just sleeping in.
Crossing into the breakfast lounge, you do a quick scan and find that Nathan hasn’t arrived yet. Choosing a cute, circular booth next to a window, you exhale nervously and wait.
Luckily - or not - you don’t have to wait long.
The moment you spot him walking in, you know he’s seen you too. He hesitates for only half a second before heading your way, nervous excitement on his face.
He slides into the booth across from you, his eyes searching yours like he’s still trying to confirm you’re real. You force a small smile, breaking the tension before it grows unbearable.
“Morning,” you say, voice lighter than you feel.
“Morning,” he echoes. He looks tired—not in the post-wedding-party kind of way, but in the bone-deep way you remember from those long stretches in the season when the pressure was eating him alive.
You gesture toward the coffees he’s set down in front him. “Which one’s mine?”
He nods his head towards the one on your right. “That one. I remembered your order, too, like I said.”
That makes you blink. “Really? I thought you were just bluffing. Just trying to get me to meet up with you, y’know.”
Nathan doesn’t even look smug from your response. He just shrugs, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I said I remembered, didn’t I?”
There’s a moment of silence as the two of you reach for your respective coffees. You wrap your hands around yours, letting the warmth soak into your palms.
“I wasn’t sure you’d actually show up,” you admit finally.
“I wasn’t sure you’d actually ask me,” he says back, quiet but firm. “But you did.”
You take a sip, the familiar flavor grounding you. Huh, he did remember after all. “Why now, Nathan? You had years to call, text, email—hell, carrier pigeon. But you waited until a wedding to… what? Catch me alone on a balcony and tell me you regret it?”
His jaw works, like he’s chewing over the right words. “Because before now, I didn’t think I deserved the chance.”
Your chest tightens, the air between you feeling heavier. He leans forward slightly, elbows on the table, every line of his face serious.
“I thought letting you go was me doing the right thing for both of us. That I couldn’t be the guy you needed while trying to keep my career together. I told myself you’d be better off. But I…” He huffs out a breath. “I was miserable without you. And I kept telling myself I’d get over it. I never did.”
You look down at your coffee, unable to meet the weight of his gaze. “That’s a nice speech, but it doesn’t erase the fact that you were the one who walked away. You made that choice for both of us.”
“I know.” His voice is low, almost raw. “And I’m not asking you to forgive me today. I just… I didn’t want the last time we ever talked to be that night.”
The words hang there, daring you to believe them.
You take another sip, watching him over the rim of your cup. He’s older now—not just in years, but in the lines carved into his face, the way his eyes hold both regret and hope like he’s terrified one will win over the other.
Maybe, you think, you’re not ready to forgive him. But you’re not ready to walk away either.
“Okay,” you say at last. “Then talk.”
The relief in his eyes is almost enough to undo you.
Nathan takes your ‘then talk’ like a challenge, but not the kind he’s used to winning on the ice.
He leans back a little, giving you space, but his eyes never waver. “You already know I regret it. I’ve said that. But what I don’t think you realize is how much you were… part of everything. I’d have a bad game, I’d come home, and just hearing you talk about your day made it feel better. I didn’t get that when you left.”
You stir your coffee with a tiny wooden stick provided at the table, watching the swirl of cream blend into brown. “I didn’t leave, Nathan. You left me. You told me you wanted to focus on hockey. The pressure was becoming too much, apparently I was becoming too much. Remember that?”
He flinches. Not dramatically, but enough that you know you’ve struck clean through.
“I know,” he says again, softer this time. “And I’ve had a lot of time to sit with that. I guess I was just scared you’d … hate me. Or worse, that you wouldn’t care anymore.”
“That’s worse?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” he swallows, voice turning rough. “At least hate means you still feel something.”
You let out a slow breath, feeling the sting of his honesty. The truth is, you did try not to care. You tried so hard, but the universe clearly had other plans.
“Sarah told me you still talk about me,” you say, testing him.
His lips twitch into something that’s almost a smile. “I do talk about you. I think about you more, though. Constantly. Talking about you just makes it worse.”
You tilt your head, studying him. “And what do you think is going to happen now? That I’ll just, like… slide right back into your life?”
“No,” he says immediately, shaking his head. “I’m not expecting anything. I just want a chance to earn you back. Even if that’s months from now. Even if it never happens.”
That last part hits something deep in your chest—because he sounds like he actually means it. Not as a manipulative hook, not as some hollow promise, but as a real acceptance that he might have to live without you.
You glance toward the window, the morning light spilling across the table. “You still drink your coffee too hot?”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “Scalding.”
You smirk despite yourself. “Some things never change.”
His gaze is steady when he answers. “Some things shouldn’t.”
You look down at your hands, gripping your cup like it’s the only thing tethering you to the ground. Your heart is beating too fast, your brain screaming at you to keep your guard up, but there’s something else—something you’ve been ignoring for years—that’s louder in this moment.
Maybe that’s why, after another stretch of silence, you find yourself saying, “Walk me back to my room?”
Nathan’s brows lift, surprise flickering before he nods once. “Yeah. Of course.”
The hallway to your room is quiet, save for the muffled hum of the hotel. You stop outside your door, fumbling for your keycard, but your hands are shaking—not from nerves exactly, but from the way the air between you feels charged.
When you finally look up, Nathan is standing close enough that you can see the flecks of darker blue in his irises.
“Thanks for the coffee,” you say, voice lower now.
“Anytime,” he murmurs. And then, after the smallest pause, “Can I—”
You don’t let him finish. You lean in first, closing the gap, your lips brushing his in the softest, most hesitant kiss imaginable. It tastes like coffee and all the years you’ve wasted pretending you didn’t want this.
He freezes for a second—just one—before kissing you back, his hand coming up to cup your jaw like he’s afraid you’ll vanish. It’s not urgent, not desperate, just deliberate. Familiar.
When you pull away, your breath catches. Nathan’s forehead rests against yours, his voice a whisper meant only for you.
“Don’t let that be the last one.”
And you’re not sure yet if you will.
A/N: I really like this one, I think it’s cute. I don’t end fics on super crazy cliffhangers usually where fate is up in the air but I like this one specifically just for that. I hope y’all enjoyed! :) reblogs & comments appreciated!!
────────────────────────────────
Taglist: @grittysbattinggloves @stars-canucks @besthockeyfics @ilyasorokinn @drei-mrssvechii @tanninetanya @insomniren @sidcrosbyspuck @the-jarvy-party @yagetintoit @2manytabsopen @huggy-hischier4394 @estapa94 @dexthtoyounglings @ellswilliams @cixrosie @poufsouffle21 @jovye @bunting58 @alexxavicry
Add yourself to my 18- (SFW) Taglist here!
Add yourself to my 18+ (NSFW) Taglist here!
