#i’ve had this in my drafts forever but i always come back to it so i’m finally posting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

supernovafics · 6 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k words

summary: in which a moment at a party that led to a drunken kiss and a heartfelt admission pushes you and your best friend away from each other. after nearly a week of silence, it’s still hard to find the right words to say to steve and to find the right way to mend what feels as if it has been permanently broken. until you’re drunk at a bar and he is the one to come and get you.

warnings: bestfriend!steve, explicit language, underage alcohol consumption, angst with a happy ending<33

author’s note: this was sitting in the drafts for a veryvery long time and i’ve finally decided to let it see the light of day🫶🏾 (full “folklore” album series masterlist here)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i didn't know if you'd care if i came back, i have a lot of regrets about that.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The bar was comforting in a weird kind of way.

It was pretty dark and empty for the most part, which partly made sense since it was ten o’clock on a random Wednesday night. You didn’t mind the music softly playing and the stool you were sitting on actually felt comfortable, or maybe it was the alcohol making you believe that.

Somehow even with the number of drinks you’d had in the past hour, it still didn’t manage to effectively push your thoughts far away from Steve and what happened at Robin’s birthday party.

You couldn’t not think about the kiss with him, which you had abruptly and drunkenly initiated; it was a kiss that felt simultaneously wrong and right. And his words that followed the kiss played on what felt like an endless loop in your mind too.

“I’ve wanted this, I’ve wanted us, for practically forever. Ever since that moment our mom’s forced us to meet at that county fair thing when we were ten, I think I knew it was you.”

It was hard to think about what you did in response to that, but still the quick, “I’m sorry, I can’t,” you managed to stutter out before basically running away from him played on equal loop in your head.

The two of you hadn’t spoken since that Saturday night, with you returning back to your college that was two hours away from Hawkins early the next morning. And you were unsure if it was you leading this dance or if both of you were equally avoiding each other because the phone calls that would happen practically daily were reduced to nothing. It had barely been a week, but it was long enough for everything in your life to feel shifted; to feel a little emptier.

“You look like you need to talk to someone,” The bartender, a woman who you were certain couldn’t be older than thirty, said as she slid you the latest drink you’d ordered.

“No, I’m fine. It’s just…” You trailed off with a small sigh before taking a sip from the cold glass. “I did something stupid this past weekend and I regret it, but I also think it might have been the right thing to do.” You were unsure if you were referring to the kissing Steve part or the running away from him part. “I don’t know, I just wish that entire night hadn’t happened, actually.”

You knew that it wasn’t solely your inebriation that made your words seem as if they didn’t make any sense, because everything going through your head was so damn confusing even when you were completely sober. None of it, the emotions you were feeling or the situation itself, fully made sense to you and you forced yourself to not think about any of it by solely consuming yourself with your schoolwork for the last few days. And when doing that was no longer enough to silence your thoughts, you decided to come to this bar.

It was dumb and probably only making things worse, you knew that, but it also felt so much easier.

“Okay,” The woman said. “Can I have a lot more context?”

You were unsure why you had the immediate urge to tell her everything. Maybe it was the alcohol, or perhaps because it was just always so easy for anyone to pour their heart out to a stranger.

“My friend— my best friend, we’ve known each other since we were ten— me and him were at a party. It was actually our other friend’s birthday and she just turned eighteen, so of course, we had to make it a huge thing for her, and we did it at Steve’s house; my best friend, that’s his name. Anyway, it’s about two hours into the party and we’re all pretty drunk. Me and Steve are in his backyard sitting on one of his old patio chairs, and then I don’t know why, I blame it on my drunkenness and how close we were in that moment, but I kissed him. I pulled away almost immediately, but then he said that he has wanted this, wanted us, to happen for so long, and I didn’t know what to say to any of that. So, I just mumbled out a stupid “I’m sorry,” and then left.”

You had barely taken a breath as you spoke, spitting out what happened that night in one rushed go. Finally saying all of it out loud— recounting the story in pretty much its entirety— made you feel a little better. Everything was still a complete mess, but you felt like you could breathe the tiniest bit easier.

“Why did you leave?”

A part of you expected her to ask that question, and at this point, you should’ve had an answer to it that felt certain, but you didn’t.

“It just… It felt like the right thing to do, I think.”

The thought of anything more happening with Steve hadn’t ever crossed your mind, at least not consciously, and even now you still refused to think more about it. Because it wasn't just about Steve. You didn’t want anything more with anyone; you didn’t want feelings, a relationship, any of it.

It wasn’t that you hated love or the thought of it, it was more so that you had been burned because of it so many times that you refused to fall into it so easily again. Falling for boys that you thought actually liked you only to be proven wrong and left heartbroken.

“I get it,” The bartender ultimately said, her voice soft. “You guys have been friends for practically forever and if you started dating and then broke up it would probably change everything between you two.”

We would never break up.

The thought hit you so abruptly that it actually managed to surprise you.

The woman looked at you, confused. “Okay… So, then what’s the problem?”

“What?”

“You said that you and him would never break up, so what’s the problem?”

You hadn’t realized you said the thought out loud, and you couldn’t even feel embarrassed about accidentally saying it because all you could think about was how completely true it was. You and Steve would work so well together, you pretty much already did. You knew the ins and outs of each other; everything little that was annoying but also so endearing. It was what you loved about him— as a friend and as more.

But still, it was so fucking hard to admit that out loud, and you wanted to forget about the entire realization.

“I– I don’t know,” You finally answered before folding your arms against the countertop and then putting your head down. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that that action would be enough to will away the tears that you could now feel threatening to spill out.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“and i ended up here. pouring out my heart to a stranger.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Hey, you okay?”

The voice was soft and immediately comforting and oh so familiar. It was enough to put a smile on your face, but your head was starting to pound so you couldn’t bear to do anything but groan.

You lifted your head and mumbled out a soft, “Steve?”

You only vaguely remembered the bartender, whose name you eventually learned was Chelsea, asking for a phone number of someone that could pick you up. And although you should’ve given her your roommate’s number, you instead gave her Steve’s.

“I never thought I’d be the one picking you up from a bar,” Steve said as he sat down next to you. “I always thought it would be the other way around.”

“Y’know what they say about college, it changes people,” You told him with a nonchalant shrug. The two of you hadn’t talked in days, but it still felt like second nature to fall back into the joking cadence you had with him. “I’m a total badass now.”

Steve laughed a bit and looked at you amusingly. “Mhm, yeah, sure you are.”

You weren’t as drunk anymore but you were entering the early stages of a hangover that would be a bitch, and you already knew that there was no way you’d be going to your eleven o’clock Statistics class.

“I can’t believe you drove two hours to pick me up,” You said as you settled yourself in the passenger seat of Steve’s car after you paid your pricey tab and goodbyes were said to Chelsea.

Steve offered you a small smile. “What else are best friends for?”

You couldn’t help but look away from him as you mumbled out a soft, “I didn’t know we were still that.”

“We’ll always be that.”

There was so much certainty in his voice that it actually managed to soothe something inside of you. Only for a second, though, because then you were back in your head again.

The drive back to your dorm was quiet with only the soft sounds of the radio to fill the silence. It was a short ride, only about ten minutes, and the entire time you could only focus on your dull headache and what you wanted to say to Steve because you knew that you had to say something. Although you didn’t want to, that night needed to finally be talked about.

When he was parked in front of your building, you still didn’t know exactly what to say, but you decided to start with something. “Listen, about Robin’s party–”

“It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it. Let’s just pretend it never happened,” Steve interrupted you. He pushed a hand through his hair and then met your gaze. “It was really dumb of me to say all of that stuff, and I partially blame it on all the drinks we had— definitely way too many. We’re just friends, I know that. And your life is here now, for the most part, and mine is back in Hawkins, so yeah…” He trailed off with a small shrug.

You suddenly felt nauseous and you knew it had nothing to do with the alcohol. He was saying everything that you fully thought you wanted to hear— what happened at the party should’ve never happened, you two were just friends— so why did it feel so wrong?

Things became quiet and Steve was looking at you expectantly, and you were unsure how long you’d been silent for.

“Um, yeah, exactly,” You finally said as you unbuckled your seatbelt. Before you opened the passenger door to leave his car, you reached over and pulled Steve in for a hug. “Drive safe.”

“Thanks,” He said as his arms circled around you.

For some reason, there was a huge part of you that wanted to say “I’m sorry” in that moment, but you didn’t entirely know why, so instead you said nothing and simply got out of his car.

You headed to the entrance of your dorm building and then turned around, giving Steve a final wave before he drove away.

It was then— as he headed down the street and after a few moments his car became completely out of your view— that you wished you’d been honest; with yourself and with him.

Because it was in that moment of you yearning for him to turn around mixed with you sincerely wanting to go after him that essentially sealed it for you.

Steve was different and he always would be.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“and maybe i don't quite know what to say, but i'm here in your doorway.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You felt slightly lucky that you only had two classes on Thursdays because when you woke up after sleeping through your Statistics class, you knew that you wouldn’t be going to your Psychology class that started at three. And the reasoning actually had nothing to do with your hangover.

Aside from the slight headache, you woke up with your mind feeling completely clear for the first time in a long time. You knew exactly what you wanted and what you wanted to do, and before that feeling could go away, or you could convince yourself to push it away, you were in your car an hour before your class was supposed to start and driving to Hawkins. You were pretty much running off of impulse and hope.

The weather was terrible and you hated driving in the rain, but it didn’t matter to you right then because you needed to see Steve.

You had two long hours of driving in terrible rain to figure out what exactly you wanted to say to him, yet you still couldn’t form a coherent set of sentences in your head. But, similar to the rain, that didn’t stop you from ringing his doorbell.

In hindsight, it probably would’ve been smart to bring an umbrella because it was still pouring and from the short walk from your car to his front door, your clothes managed to become effectively soaked, but it didn’t bother you.

“Hey,” He said when he opened the door, it was easy to tell that he was surprised to see you. “Did you drive all the way here?”

You quickly nodded at his question. “Yes.”

“You hate driving in rain.”

“Yeah, but I… I just really wanted to talk to you, and didn’t wanna do it over the phone.”

“Come inside,” Steve said, pushing the door open wider so that you could step in.

You almost followed him but then stopped. “No, wait… I kinda just wanna say this here.”

Steve looked at you confused, but ultimately nodded. “Okay.” He then stepped out of his house and closed the door behind him; his clothes immediately got wet. “It feels wrong that you’re the only one getting hit by the rain.”

You laughed a bit. “Thank you. That’s very considerate.”

Things got quiet for a second and you suddenly felt nervous, but you pushed that feeling to the side.

“I know you said that we don’t need to talk about the party and we should pretend that it never happened. And although that’s exactly what I’d been doing for the past few days, I don’t wanna do that anymore.” It actually didn’t feel too hard to let all of this out; verbalizing exactly what had been going on in your head. In a way, it felt like a relief. “I think I kissed you that night because deep down I know that it’s you too. And that it’s always been you… Which is actually so scary to think about because we’ve known each other for so long and you’re the one person in my life that has been the biggest constant. You’ve seen every part of my very horrific love life and I don’t want us to end up like any of the stupid relationships I had before, and I think that’s why I ran away that night, which I do really regret.” You pulled your eyes away from his for a second. “But, what we have is different, and I want to try. I want us to try.”

You let out a long breath. “Okay, that’s it.”

Steve didn’t say anything for a few moments, and it was then that you realized how loud the rain was, and somehow it was actually a bit calming to hear the sounds of the heavy drops hitting the ground.

You searched his eyes to see if you could decipher what he was thinking, but before you could get a clear read on anything, he was closing the small bit of distance between you both and reaching up to cup your face in his hands before leaning in to kiss you.

The abruptness of the action slightly startled you, but you were completely okay with this nonverbal response to you pouring your heart out. You were kissing him back almost immediately and suddenly the sound of the rain was gone and instead all you could hear was your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

The kiss felt perfectly new but also so insanely familiar; even though this was the first time this was happening sober. And so many things were running through your mind, but it was also effectively blank and you knew you wouldn’t be able to form a coherent sentence even if you tried.

Most of all, though, everything happening right then— the way your hands fisted themselves in his rain soaked t-shirt to pull him impossibly closer to you, and how his thumb stroked your cheek so tenderly— it all felt so certain and sure and right; there wasn’t an ounce of doubt lingering in the air around you both or lacing its way within the kiss.

When you pulled away to catch your breath and smiled up at him, a smile that Steve immediately matched with an elated grin of his own, it slightly killed you that all of this hadn't happened sooner.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i just wanted you to know that this is me trying.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington

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greymoonfeelings · 11 months

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You and Me

pairing: Jake Seresin x fem! reader

word count: 0.7k

note: this is a little blurb I’ve had in my drafts forever and I wanted to get it published. I firmly believe Jake says says “give me some sugar” when he wants a kiss and you will not change my mind.

•••

You let out a huff, swirling the ice cubes in your drink around with the plastic straw. With your head in your hand, you watch as Jake celebrates his latest pool victory with his friends. He wasn’t ignoring you on purpose, but he was so wrapped up in the energy of his friends that he had yet to realize you weren’t feeling the same.

After Coyote slaps him on the back, Jake spins around to face you. He looks over to you expectantly, hoping to see you smiling at him, but instead notices the downturn of your lips as you stare down at your drink. Jake excuses himself from his friends before approaching you.

“What's wrong, darlin?” He slides into the booth beside you, throwing an arm around your slumped shoulders.

“Nothing.” You force a smile, not wanting to ruin his fun with your sour mood. Jake cocks his head to the side giving you a knowing look. There is no use lying to him. He has always been able to see right through you.

You sigh in defeat. “I thought tonight would just be us. I love your friends, but we’re with them so much and I miss spending time alone with you.”

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” His tone is soft, not accusing.

“I didn’t want to sound needy.” You peer down at your drink again, pretending to be interested in the condensation running down this side so you don’t have to look your boyfriend in the eye.

You’re terrified of Jake suddenly deciding that you’re too high maintenance. Maybe he wants a girlfriend who’s more go-with-the-flow and less clingy. Jake is a boisterous and extroverted person, why would he ever want to be with someone who was the exact opposite?

Jake recognizes that look on your face. The one you make when your order comes out wrong but you eat it anyway because you don’t want to be a bother. The one you wear when someone suddenly starts talking over you because they either didn’t realize you were speaking or they just didn’t care. Jake hates that look, hates that you feel like you’re not good enough to take up space.

“There’s no one else I would rather spend time with than you, darlin’. You can always tell me what you’re feeling, you don’t have to hide from me or feel embarrassed.”

“You’re so good to me, Jake. I’m not used to my feelings being considered.”

“Your feelings deserve to be treated with respect and I love you, I always want you to be comfortable.”

“I love you too.”

“Gimme some sugar.” Jake leans in, his lips searching for yours.

“Not here.” You duck away from him, looking around at the crowded bar.

“No one’s looking. They’re all too focused on themselves. C’mon, I missed you too, darling.” Jake whispers reassuringly as he presses kisses to the side of your face.

You take another quick look around the bar before deciding that he’s right. You lean into Jake’s side and press your glossed lips against his.

When you pull away, Jake licks his lips trying to savor the taste of you. “Mm, cherry. My favorite.”

“You’re not supposed to lick it off, weirdo.” You laugh and give your boyfriend a playful shove.

“Let’s get out of here. There’s a carton of ice cream back home with our names written all over it and I may have finally caved and subscribed to Disney Plus.”

Jake wraps his arm around your waist and tucks you against his side. After saying goodbye to his friends, he leads you out into the parking lot, his body warming you against the cool breeze from the ocean.

The two of you spend the remainder of the night curled up in bed sharing the tub of ice cream while your favorite movie plays. Jake makes sure you know just how much he cherishes his time with you. Being alone with just him refills your energy just the way you were hoping it would and you fall asleep feeling even more in love with your man.

#heather writes #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfic #jake hangman seresin fanfic #jake seresin fluff #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin

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mountsmase · 2 months

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a/n: hello 🫶🏻 this is the long awaited part 2 of Missed You! I’ve had the concept for this sat in my drafts for ages but I finally got around to writing it and it feels like it took forever but it’s finally here 🤭 I feel like my writing has changed loads since I posted the first part and I really hope you enjoy this fic! Feedback is always appreciated 💛 (this can also be read as a stand alone x)

word count: 4.5k

genre: smut (+ a teeny bit of fluff)

———————

Missed This - MM7

(Missed You Part II)

“Still just us” Mason smiles as he follows you through to the kitchen/living area, finding the villa still empty like he hoped it would be.

You hop up onto the counter, dangling your legs over the side and watching as he gets a glass from the cupboard and fills it with water, taking a few sips before coming over to you.

“Thank you” you take the glass from him when he offers it, drinking the rest of the water before placing it to the side and spreading your legs for him when he moves to stand between them.

You’re currently on holiday with his family, staying in a villa big enough to accommodate all of you and you’re having the best time, but after a busy couple of weeks leading up to the trip, Mason has been craving some quality time with you. He organised for you to have a little date night and after an evening at the beach, swimming and watching the sun set, you’re glad to find his family are still out for the evening, allowing for a little more time alone with him.

His arms wrap around your waist, tugging you closer to the edge of the counter and you instinctively wrap your legs around his torso, leaning into him when he presses his lips against yours softly before dipping his head into your neck.

You relax into him when his warm lips brush over your skin, tilting your head to the side to allow him more access and he hums against you when you bring a hand to the back of his head, nails scratching over his scalp the way he loves.

“Mase” You sigh, feeling him suck over your most sensitive spot, nipping at the delicate skin before soothing over the sting with his tongue, “Please”

He pulls back slightly, raising a hand to brush your flowy shirt away from your shoulder before resuming his kisses, his path now unobstructed as he trails his lips down your throat and over your collar bone.

“What do you need bubba?” He murmurs, already knowing the answer but needing to here you say it.

“Y-you, please”

You feel his lips curl into a smile against your skin. “How about you head upstairs and start a shower? I’ll just pop the left overs into the fridge and I’ll be right behind you”

“Okay” you answer, voice barely above a whisper and he leaves a lingering kiss to your cheek before letting you hop down from the counter. He taps your bum, sending you a wink as you walk past him and towards the stairs.

Excited butterflies swarm in your tummy when you step into the bedroom, throwing your little bag towards the bed haphazardly as you kick your flip flops off before heading into the bathroom.

It’s not long until Mason is joining you, having only just removed your over shirt and shorts when you see him walk into the en-suite, closing the door behind himself and flicking the lock just in case before moving towards you.

His arms wrap around your waist as he steps up behind you, fingers brushing over your soft skin as you lean back into his body with a sigh. You drop your head back against his shoulder, tilting it slightly so that you can look up at him. Your eyes flicker from his freckles that you adore so much to the reddened patch of skin on the bridge of his nose before meeting his gaze.

His eyes are dark, swirling with an emotion that you don’t quite have enough time to make out because he’s leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, breaking you out of your little trace.

He keeps the kiss soft, just a simple brush of his lips over your own and then he’s pulling away again, scattering a couple of kisses against your jaw before nodding his head towards the mirror and you straighten up, facing forward when he speaks.

“Can’t believe I’ve had to watch you walk around in these pretty little bikinis all week and not be able to do anything about it” he tells you, lips right next to your ear, “you’ve made it so hard not to just pull you in here and fuck you senseless”

His gruff voice and dirty words have your thoughts spiralling. You’ve not had much time to be intimate together recently, just the occasional quickie here and there with busy schedules wearing you both out on the lead up to this holiday, and thinking back to the last couple of days, you’re impressed you’ve made it this far without giving into your temptations.

With all of his lingering gazes and those teasing touches when no one’s paying attention. The way he’s been driving you crazy without even trying, wearing nothing but swim shorts for the best part of the day with his sun kissed body brushing against yours whenever he’s close to you. The way he kissed you back at the beach and the silent promises of what’s to come next.

The feel of his fingertips moving against your waist snaps you from your brief train of thoughts, goosebumps erupting over your skin as he brushes them down your sides until he finds the thin material of your bikini.

“Do you have any idea,” his dark eyes meet yours in the reflection, “what you do to me when you wear this?”

He toys with the knots that hold your bottoms together, the flimsy material threatening to fall apart under his touch and you swallow nervously, that all too familiar look in his eyes telling you exactly what kind of mood he’s in.

“I don’t think I do,” You definitely do “Why don’t you show me?”

He lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head at your innocent act, but your facade soon falters when he takes a hold of your hips, pulling you one step back so that your body is flush with his. The closeness has you feeling more of him, his crotch now pressed against your lower back and you can feel his length straining through the material of his shorts.

You try your luck, wiggling your hips back against him and his eyes flutter closed, losing his composure for a moment before he quickly regains it and tightens his grip on your waist, halting your movements.

“Stand still” he murmurs, your tummy flip flopping at the tone of his voice and you have to stop yourself from repeating your actions, switching your focus to his hands that are still sat on your hips.

“As much as I love when you wear this, I’d prefer it off” he motions to the black fabric that’s still covering your body and you lift your arms, reaching to untie the knots but he’s quick in stopping you, moving your hands back to your sides and sending you a pointed look.

He tuts, “I thought I said stand still”

“Sorry”

“No you’re not” he fights back a smile, watching through the mirror as you tug your bottom lip between your teeth and shake your head. “Keep them there”

You shiver when he grazes his fingertips back up the sides of your body, your eyes following his every move as he finds the strings of your bikini top and you feel it loosening when he pulls them undone. It drops to the floor, leaving your top half bare and you want to protest against the fact that he’s still fully clothed, but you think better of it, a quiet gasp escaping your lips when he slides a hand around your body.

He cups his palm over your boob, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and he smirks to himself when he feels the nub hardening under his touch, his other hand coming up to the neglected side and mirroring his actions.

You can tell that he’s not rushing, taking his time to love on you the way he pleases, and for a while, you let him. Relaxing into his touch as he continues teasing and pinching over your nipples, tracing patterns into the sensitive skin around them until you grow impatient and begin squirming against him in a silent plea for more.

His hands drift back down your waist, a certain warmth spreading through you as he unties the first of the bows on your bottoms, the second one coming undone soon after as he discards the material to the growing pile of clothes by your feet.

His eyes burn as they rake along your body, taking you in through the reflection, and your skin grows hot under his intense gaze, leaning back into his warmth when his arms circle your waist. He takes in every inch of you, every curve, every tan line, all of your little freckles and moles. To him, you’re perfect.

“So fucking pretty,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your shoulder “my gorgeous girl”

Your entire body lights up from his words, cheeks burning as he presses a few more kisses to your shoulder and steps away. You miss his touch immediately, pouting at him as he turns and starts the shower, making sure the temperature is right before coming back to you.

“Get in” his words are short, the instruction simple as he nods to the shower and you follow his request, stepping under the stream of water and watching through the glass as he quickly rids himself of his own clothes before stepping in behind you.

His lips are on yours instantly, swallowing your gasp as he backs you up against the cold tiled wall, one of his hands finds your hip whilst the other gravitates up to cup your cheek, holding you to him as you melt into the kiss.

He works his lips against yours, humming into the kiss when you reach up and thread your fingers into his hair, tugging on the short locks when he coaxes his tongue between your lips and brushes it against yours.

His kisses are intoxicating, robbing the oxygen from your lungs with every drag of his tongue over yours, overcoming your senses until all you know is him. He tastes sweet, like the strawberries that you shared earlier, and you find yourself trying to pull him even closer, one of your hands sliding up his tattooed arm and gripping his shoulder as the other continues to pull and tug at his hair.

His lips never falter as he nudges his knee against your own, your thighs separating automatically and you moan into the kiss when he presses his leg between yours. His warm thigh presses against your core, tingles shooting down your spine and you can’t stop the way your hips buck from the friction.

“Easy baby, I’ve got you” he coos, tightening his grip on your hip and helping to calm your actions, rocking you against his thigh at a steadier pace, “That’s it”

His hot lips leave yours, trailing kisses over your jaw and you tilt your head back, giving him more access when they wander down your throat, nipping and sucking over your damp skin. He ducks his head further, kissing down your chest and leaving a small love bite just above your nipple before taking the hardened nub between his lips.

Your back arches as you grind helplessly against his thigh, pleasure tingling through your entire body when your clit brushes against the firm muscle and the series of moans and whimpers that slip past your lips have his cock jumping against your hip.

When he suddenly steps away you let out a groan in protest, disliking the lack of contact, but your frustration is short lived when his hands wander to your waist to gently turn you around, the stream of water now hitting your chest as he faces you away from him.

With one squeeze of your hips, he has you leaning into him, your back flush to his chest as he slides his hands around to your front. They work over your chest, his warm palms cupping over your boobs as he pinches and tugs at your nipples before moving south, the gentle caress of his fingers over your tummy causing you to tense up in anticipation of his next actions.

“Relax for me Angel, going to make you feel so good I promise” he murmurs right next to your ear, his fingers brushing lazily over your mound until he feels you sink back into him.

“Good girl” his voice is raspy, the praise sending tingles straight to where you need him as his hand dips lower.

His fingers tease through your wet folds, your breath catching in your throat as he coats them in your juices before circling over your sensitive nub.

“So wet for me baby” he coos, “Been waiting for this all week, huh?”

You can only nod as he lightly pinches your clit between his thumb and fore finger, resting his chin against your shoulder so that he can gaze down at where his hand disappears between your thighs.

“Mase” You moan, his length twitching in response to the drawn out sound that slips past your lips when he eventually dips a finger between your warm folds, burying it to the knuckle before starting to fuck you slowly.

“God, Y/N, you’re so fucking tight” he teases, inserting another digit and you sigh deeply when he curls them again your walls, “Can’t wait to be inside of you baby”

“Yes Mase - fuck - keep going, please” you pant, your body melting back into his when he attaches his thumb to your clit, brushing over it in quick circles that match the pace of his fingers.

Your knees go weak but he’s quick in bringing his free arm up to steady you, wrapping it around your waist securely and when you clutch onto it he’s not even bothered by the slight sting of pain caused by your nails digging into his skin.

He’s unrelenting, alternating between pulsing his fingers inside of you and curling them to brush against that spot that has you has you seeing stars, his thumb never stopping as he works you towards your release.

“M-Mason” you choke out, head falling back against his shoulder and your eyes flutter closed as your moans become more and more desperate. When he feels your walls clenching around his fingers, he knows you’re getting close to your high.

“Are you gonna cum for me, bubba?”

You nod, unable to form other coherent words but when he nips at your earlobe in warning and slows his movements you stutter out, “Y-Yes, please”

With a growl of approval, he leans down, his lips latching back onto your neck and you hit your high when he suctions them over your sweet spot, pleasure shooting through your entire body as he works you through your orgasm until you’re whimpering from the sensitivity.

He removes his fingers from you slowly, soothing them over your folds to collect your wetness before bringing them up to his mouth. You watch him over your shoulder, your cheeks flushing a deep shade of red when he hums around them, eyes fluttering closed when he gets a taste of you.

“Taste incredible baby” he murmurs, using the same hand to take your chin between his fingers, tilting your head slightly so that he can kiss you and you moan into his mouth when you taste yourself on his tongue.

He moves you both a little further under the water, arms wrapping tightly around your waist and he sways you softly as he gives you as long as you need to recover from your high.

“Feeling okay, bubs?” He whispers after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah, but I need you” You respond, wiggling your hips a little and he chuckles at your impatience.

“But you’ve already got me, Angel” He tells you, and you huff out a sigh, not liking his teasing.

“Need to feel you inside of me, please Mason”

“Needy girl” He tuts, and you’re prepared to start begging him but he doesn’t let you, wasting no more time before nudging you forward once again.

Pressing on your lower back, he prompts you to lean forward, your arms instinctively reaching out to steady yourself against the wall as he nudges your legs apart slightly. His hand finds it’s home on your hip, massaging into your skin as the other wraps around the base of his cock, giving himself a few slow pumps.

“You ready, baby?” He hums, your heart fluttering at the simple question.

You nod, but that’s not enough for him. His hand comes down to leave a single slap to your bum and you jolt forward, teeth digging into your bottom lip to stop the moan that threatens to escape.

“You know I need to hear you say it”

“I’m ready, please Mase” You plead, just wanting to feel him, and he doesn’t need to be told twice as he lines himself up with your entrance, taking the time to brush his head over your clit before moving his hips forwards.

You moan simultaneously as he pushes into you slowly, his length filling you inch by inch until he’s buried to the hilt inside of you and the stretch is so sweet.

“Let me know when I can move, baby” he leans over you, scattering kisses over the top of your back whilst he gives you time to adjust to him, which you’re grateful for after a couple weeks of not having him like this, but it’s not long until you’re pushing your hips back against him.

“You can move, Mase” you whisper, tilting your head to try and catch a glimpse of him behind you and the sight has your heart thudding in your chest.

His wet hair is messy on top of his head, droplets of water falling from the strands and landing on your lower back as he towers over you. He’s still wearing his chain, the thin silver metal that you brought him earlier in the week standing out against his tanned chest. His cheeks are flushed and the bridge of his nose is red, his eyes clouded over as he looks down at where your bodies meet.

A groan rumbles in his throat as he pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in, repeating that same action as he builds up to a steady rhythm. He keeps his pace slow at first, his hand tightening it’s grip on your hip and you’re sure there will be bruises there in the morning, but you can’t bring yourself to care as he fucks into you.

“Fuck, baby” he grunts, moving his free hand to your other hip, “So fucking tight for me” he pants, every word just making you clench around him tighter.

“N-need more, faster please” you whine, pushing your hips back in time with his.

On any other day you would love this pace, and that’s not to say you don’t right now, but you’re feeling especially needy today, just wanting him to have his way with you and he does not disappoint.

Each of his thrusts are as powerful and unforgiving as the last, your hands sliding against the tiled wall from the force of his hips against yours as sounds of slapping skin echo around the shower, mixing with your moans and cries.

It makes your head spin. The way he fucks you at such an aggressive pace, yet with so much love and intensity. Worshipping every inch of your body with his hands and lips as he pounds into you with no sign of stopping. But you don’t want him to.

He moves a hand from your hip, sliding it up the front of your body before closing it around your throat and tilting your head backwards, pulling you up so that you’re stood with your back to his chest as he gently squeezes.

“Mase. Mason. Fuck, right there” The words barely make it past your lips, cut off by a cry when he gives a deep, hard thrust. “So cl-close already, Mase”

“Yeah Angel? Gonna cum around my cock?” He drawls, slowing his thrusts slightly. He’s dangerously close to his own orgasm, but he wants to hold out a little longer for you, not wanting this to be over quite yet.

“Yes, p-please, need it”

“Gonna turn you around Angel, need to see you when you cum” he tells you, and you nod eagerly.

He’s gentle in pulling out of you, trying to be quick but as careful as he can be as he turns you around to face him again and backs you up against the tiles. His warm palm slides up the back of your thigh, finding the curve of your bum and giving it a squeeze before hooking your leg around his waist.

One of his hands lands on the wall beside your head, steadying himself as he reaches down with the other and he lines himself back up with your entrance, pushing himself in and quickly working back up to a strong pace.

The new position has his tip brushing against your sweet spot with every thrust, and you can feel every ridge of his length as he rocks his hips against yours. Your arms wrap around his neck, desperately needing something to hold onto as he works you towards your high, one of his own falling around your waist to hold you against him.

“I love you” he growls, forehead resting against yours, “so fucking much”

“Fuck, I love you too” you sob, your eyes fluttering closed when he moves his hand from the wall and slides it between your bodies, his thumb easily finding your clit and brushing against the sensitive nub.

“Mason…”

“I know baby, I know. Taking me so well” He gasps, lips brushing over your cheek. “Such a fucking good girl for me”

Your mouths meet desperately, his tongue pushing through your already swollen lips as he swallows your cries, his thumb still rubbing light circles over your clit and he can tell by the way you’re fluttering around him that your orgasm is fast approaching.

“Mase, shit” you pant against his lips,

“I’m right there with you” he tells you, his voice low and thick, “Let go for me Angel, I’ve got you”

That’s all you need, his arm tightening around your waist to pull you impossibly closer to him as your body goes limp against his. Your orgasm hits you with a cry of his name, his thrusts unrelenting as he chases his own high. It’s intense, your limbs turning to jelly as a wave of pleasure rolls through your entire body and you tremble against him as he works you through it.

He isn’t far behind you, the feeling of your walls hugging around him sending him tumbling towards his own orgasm and he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck as he hits his high, his hips faltering as he thrusts through it before eventually coming to a complete stop.

He keeps himself buried inside of you for a while, head still nuzzled away in your neck with his arms wrapped tightly around you and you take a few moments to steady your heart beats and catch your breaths, coming down from your highs.

His lips brush over your temple when he eventually starts to pull out of you, soothing you with reassuring whispers when you whimper from the sensitivity and emptiness. He moves you both under the still hot stream of water, pulling you into his body and you collapse into his arms as he massages over your back and any inch of your skin that he can reach.

“I wasn’t too rough was I?” He suddenly whispers, not wanting to disturb the calmness of the moment, and when you look up at him his eyes are already locked on yours, cheeks flushed and his brows furrowed, a tell tale sign that he’s concerned about something.

He knows deep down that he has nothing to worry about. You would of stopped him if it was too much and he’s pretty confident in himself that he knows your limits and would never let it get to that point, but he can’t help but want the verbal confirmation from you that he didn’t take it too far. It’s one of the many reasons why you love him. He can be an absolute beast, and you love it when he gets rough with you, but at the end of the day he’s still your Mason. Your soft, loving, wouldn’t hurt a fly Mason who you know is just trying to look out for you.

“Not at all” you reassure him, pushing up on your tiptoes to brush your lips over his and you swear you can see the relief wash over his face, his features relaxing again as he gazes down at you.

You stay in the shower for a little longer, cleaning yourself up and quickly washing your hair - with Mason’s help of course - before climbing out and getting ready for bed.

He helps you slip into one of his t-shirts and a fresh fair of panties, brushing through your hair which you only bother to towel dry before using the loo and climbing into bed. You watch from under the duvet as he pulls on some boxers and grabs your laptop, then slides under the covers next to you. He starts up Netflix, pressing play on a series that you’ve been watching and places the laptop on top of the sheets so that you can both see it before settling down beside you.

You tuck yourself into his side, laying over his half naked body with your head resting against his chest and he wraps his arm around your waist, attempting to pull you even closer to him and you happily melt into his warm embrace.

“Thank you for today” you whisper, tilting your head up to look at him and he meets your gaze with a soft smile.

“Did you like it?” He asks, a slight hint of uncertainty in his voice which you shut down straight away.

“I loved it, it was perfect”

You lean up to press a kiss to his stubbly jaw, but he wants more, his palm framing your cheek and pulling you closer so that he can touch his lips to yours. The kiss is softer than the others that you’ve shared throughout the evening, a lazy brush of his lips against your own that has you sinking into him.

“I love you, so much” you whisper when you eventually pull away, leaving one last kiss to the corner of his mouth before settling down on his chest.

“Love you too, night bubs”

“Night Mase”

His hand slides under the material of the t-shirt you’re wearing, tracing patterns into your soft skin and he feels you grow heavy against him not even two minuets later, falling asleep to the sound of his steady heartbeat and he’s not far behind you, drifting off after one final brush of his lips to your forehead.

———————

a/n; I really hope you enjoyed! 💛 feedback is appreciated as always 🫶🏻

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #mason mount x you #mason concepts #mason mount fluff #mason mount concepts #mason mount fic

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goldenroutledge · 2 months

Text

par for the course

pairing ⤜ rafe cameron x fem!kook!reader

word count ⤜ 3.2k

summary ⤜ in which you forgive your childhood nemesis, rafe cameron.

a/n ⤜ season one reminiscent? i’ve had a draft of this piece forever so i decided to finish it!

rafe cameron masterlist

The slam of your bedroom door echoes through your house and the fall onto your bed is cushioned by the decorative throw pillows on top of it, drowning out your exasperation for the moment. A deep exhale fell past your lips as reality sunk in. The nags of your parents reached an all time high so far this summer, as they went on and on about how you were going to be stuck in the house with nothing to do.

Unfortunately, your explanation didn’t cut it. In the back of your mind, you were well aware that your friends would be busy doing their own things. You just chose not to believe it until it came true. John B and JJ became camp counselors for some group of kids over the summer, those poor kids. Pope decided to fill his free time with summer classes, and Kiara was tied up at The Wreck. And with John B going away, Sarah didn’t have a reason to stick around either, much to your displeasure. She’d decided to visit her cousins overseas. Not that you really blamed her, or any of your friends for that matter.

But it was slightly embarrassing to have nothing to say when it was your turn to reveal your plans for the next few months. Any other time, you’d always assumed your plans would be with any one of them.

And now, your problems were a whole lot bigger. Judging by your lack of plans, your parents went ahead and made some for you. And with the last person you would’ve wanted to spend your summer days— or any days at all— with, Rafe Cameron.

Both of your fathers had worked together in the past, and they still kept a friendship because of it. If that’s what you call two middle-aged businessmen drowning in drinks and making small talk at the occasional kook event.

To put it simply, Rafe had it out for you. Just the mention of his name made you shudder; your horrific childhood experiences with the boy forever carved in your memory.

His bratty behavior towards you began at about age 9 or 10. For instance, when you wouldn’t budge off of his favorite swing at the park. It would be impossible to forget how he popped one last bubble from his piece of bubblegum, faded pink and chewed thin, before wading it up and planting it right in your hair.

You lunged off the swing towards him immediately, screams of terror piercing the serene island air. He ran in circles, cackling mischievously as you chased him. All for Rafe to ‘take back’ his spot on the swing while he had you distracted.

As years went on, the memory became less and less vivid— except for that moment when he popped in another piece of gum, one bigger than all his teeth combined, before shouting: “Thanks for keeping’ it warm for me.”

And without an inkling of remorse, he began swinging gleefully while you ran to find your mother, hot tears cascading down your cheeks. The tear stains remained for another day or so. The sadness and frustration was simply too much for your nine year old self to handle. Not to mention the wad of gum that had to be cut out of your hair later that day. And it was all Rafe’s fault.

So it couldn’t be chalked up to anything less than betrayal, really. For your parents to coordinate summer golf lessons with your childhood nemesis. It was pure treachery. Especially after your strong argument of course, not failing to mention the dreaded gum incident. Only to be told off by your mother, as she assumed any child of Ward’s would mature into nothing short of an upstanding citizen. If she only knew.

Days later, you were throwing on a Ralph Lauren polo and a tennis skirt to match, hating every minute of it as you knew what was to come. You couldn’t deny how the material hugged your body just right; and a shred of your subconscious hoped that Rafe would notice too.

For no reason other than revenge, of course. How dare he terrorize you as a child and not be consumed with regret years later? His unforgivable acts couldn’t go unpunished.

Grabbing your keys and phone, you sped off in your car without so much as a goodbye to your mom before leaving. No amount of time could help you process what you were in for, and no amount of forethought would make this reunion any more bearable.

Scanning the cream colored walls of the Island Club, it didn’t take long to spot the tall Cameron leaning up against one of its pillars, scrolling on his phone with an expression of pure boredom. His foot tapped the floor occasionally, his eyes lifting every minute or so in search of you.

Just two taps on his shoulder was all it took to grab his attention. Rafe’s lips spread into a smirk just as quickly as he turned around to meet your irritated gaze. That stupid smirk, one you knew all too well.

“Long time no see, Y/n. Missed me?”

“Not a chance in hell. I’m here against my will.”

“Yeah, right. I bet you were just begging for a chance to see me again.” Rafe whines dramatically.

“Delusional as ever, huh, Rafe? I guess some things never change.”

“Childish as ever, huh, Y/n? Good to know we agree about something. And to think I had hope that you’d leave the hostility at home.”

“Didn’t you get suspended from the Academy for fighting? Twice?”

His expression shifts from smug to scowl.

“That was a long time ago. You ready to get started or what?”

You smile at him with faux innocence, glad to have landed a punch in this endless match between you two.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

—

The silence remained as thick as molasses, tension lingering that not even the sharpest of machetes could slash through.

Rafe steered the golf cart in silence, movements hasty and abrupt as an expression of his frustration. Your memory wasn’t as short as he’d expected; and now he was subjected to a summer of what he anticipated to be vengeful torture.

Lost in thought, he came to a stop at your destination. And by the looks of it, you were more than ready, willing and able to carry on without him as you began teeing up.

“Aren’t I supposed to be teaching you how? Isn’t that the whole reason why we’re here?”

With a sigh, your eyes darted to the clear blue sky, silently praying to a higher power to keep you sane. “I’ll ask for your help when I need it.”

You resume lining up your footing and the club with the ball, envisioning your swing before Rafe interrupts once again.

“Why bother showing up here if you’re gonna act like a bitch?”

“I was sent here against my will, remember?”

“So you say.”

“And I’m not a bitch. Not to those who don’t deserve it.”

“I couldn’t tell the difference.” Rafe scoffs. “And I never said you are a bitch, I said you’re acting like one.”

A cold chuckle makes its way out of your throat at his blatant contradiction. “You do not wanna go there with me, Cameron.”

After the mumble fell from your lips, you were set on taking a swing at the golf ball. Until Rafe opened his mouth once again, as if he was just waiting for you to swing, to piss you off even further. Provoking you at this point.

“Actually, let’s go there. I’d love to go there. Please enlighten me as to why you feel entitled to be so rude to me. Especially since I am the one doing you this little favor, aren’t I? Giving you a break from those losers on the Cut you love so much.”

“Isn’t it disrespectful to talk when I’m trying to hit a ball?” You query, quoting his very own words during an encounter with the notorious blond pogue. “Learn some etiquette, my friend.”

“Pathetic. So it’s Maybank? He’s been whispering in your ear? What, is he your boyfriend?”

“As if I haven’t experienced enough of your obnoxiousness firsthand. Trust me, I hate you plenty on my own. And he’s not my boyfriend, idiot.”

Rafe raises an eyebrow, his smirk returning at your defensiveness. “Though from what I hear you have some ‘losers’ of your own these days. Barry, isn’t it? Would be a shame if Uncle Ward found out.”

Rafe rolls his eyes at your disingenuous mention of his father. Sure, your fathers were somewhat close friends, but for some reason, it made his blood boil. “What’s it to you? Don’t tell me this is your attempt at blackmail.”

You shrug, grip still firm on the golf club. “Not necessarily. Have to admit it does feel good to get under your skin, though.”

“Touché.”

—

You moved through the golf course rather quickly, nearing its end. Both of your intentions were evident that you were eager to get home, and best of all, away from each other. Rafe slides into the driver's side of the cart, but doesn’t pull off immediately.

“You never actually answered my question, by the way. About why you’re being such a pain in the ass to me.”

You stop scrolling on your phone to look at him, trying to understand his purpose for bringing this up again. “You don’t happen to have some sort of short-term memory loss, right?”

“You said you hate me plenty on your own. But what fucking reason have I ever given you to?”

“Oh?”

“I told you to go there, didn’t I? I’m giving you a chance to let out your grievances. And that’s one more than I should, you know patience isn’t my strongsuit.”

“Can’t a girl just hate Rafe Cameron with no strings attached? I’m sure it’s not the first time.”

He looks over to you, blue eyes staring into yours. “You and I both know there’s always strings attached.”

“What can I say, Cameron? Guess it’s just par for the course. Or are you so desperate to know because you crave my validation?”

“What can I say, Y/l/n? I guess you wouldn’t be able to understand what it means to learn from your mistakes.”

“You’re full of it.”

“No more than you are, peach cake.”

“Just drive us back to the club already.”

“Not until you confess.” He protests, dangling the keys in your face before sliding them into his pocket. Rafe leans back, unintentionally manspreading as he does so, and drapes an arm over your shoulder. “We could be here all day.”

The exasperation was pretty much dripping off of you. His antics felt so familiar in the most intense way possible, and it made you want to scream. He was the same Rafe bullying you out of the playground a decade ago. The same Rafe you were now wondering had you misjudged. Or judged a little too harshly over some measly childhood rivalry.

“Primrose Park.”

“Excuse me?”

“Primrose Park.” You reiterate. “Don’t feign amnesia. I know you know.”

“How could I forget? I was the king of that place for years.”

“King? More like dictator.”

He shrugs. “I had a delicate ego back then.”

“As well as no patience or manners. If I didn’t know any better I would’ve thought you were raised by wolves.”

Rafe chuckles, amused by your memory of him as a child. “Blame it on Uncle Ward.”

“Sarah and Wheezie were always sweet as pie, so I don’t know if that’s fair.”

“Probably just caught me on a bad day, Y/n. I, too, am sweet as pie.” He defends, eyes twinkling as he smiles.

“Like hell you were! Do you recall wading up your gum and sticking it in my hair? Does that ring a bell?”

His eyebrows furrow as he recollects the memory.

“When we were kids at the park, you got all pissed that I wouldn’t give you a turn on the swings, so you spit your gum in my hair.”

He chuckles at first, but his laughs grow much louder as he ponders the memory.

“It’s really not that funny, Rafe. My mother had to cut that chunk of gum out of my hair.” You remind him. “You’re lucky I don’t shave your damn head right now!” You take a swat at his cap, knocking it to the ground as he’s struggling to get his laughter under control.

“And after all these years you never forgave me? It’s been decades, Y/n.”

“You never apologized.”

“Well I’m sorry, now. If that means anything.” He mumbles the last part, apologies being a foreign art to him. “But you should be thanking me, actually. You have no idea what you were in for had you stuck around.”

“What?”

“Henry Haberstroh. He was gonna give you another one of those stupid bouquets of weeds.”

“The dandelion bouquets?” Your mouth hangs open at the revelation, remembering the boy with an incessant crush on you. A crush so intense in fact that he wouldn’t stop giving you bouquets of dandelions he’d picked from the grass— not until you’d agreed to a playdate with him despite being painfully uninterested.

“The gum idea was more of a last resort but I thought you might wanna get out of there. I mean, dandelions? You’re allergic to bees.”

“And how do you know this exactly?”

“As King of Primrose Park I was privy to information. And was subtlety ever Henry’s thing? The kid was a blabbermouth. He never shut up about you.”

“Well I must say I’m impressed, Cameron. That’s quite a scheme you pulled off. Not that you’re forgiven or anything. But Henry was a creep.”

“Couldn’t take a hint to save his life, either. I don’t think I’ve seen you run away from someone so fast, not even from me.” Rafe teases, nudging your arm with his as you giggled.

“The bees!”

Rafe gives you a look of disbelief, knowing damn well it wasn’t the pollinated dandelions you were running from.

“Seriously, I’m really allergic! But you already knew that?”

“What kind of secret admirer doesn’t know his admiree’s allergens?”

His blue eyes lock with yours, smiles replacing the scowls on both of your faces from earlier. You raise an eyebrow at him in question.

“Shame on Henry.” Rafe critiques, realizing the implication of his words.

“Yeah. Shame on Henry. But I wouldn’t call us even quite yet, so sleep with one eye open just in case.”

The two of you share a genuine laugh for the first time all day, before Rafe begins driving towards the next hole.

“Remind me to lock my windows when I get home.”

—

You move towards your ball once again, but gaze at your target uneasily. Maybe you still had a thing or two to learn about the sport. Rafe leans up against the cart, arms crossed and biceps stretching the fabric of his shirt much thinner. The tension was almost gone in comparison to how you started the afternoon. Almost.

Now looking at Rafe, it felt different. How could you be angry anymore? Holding a vendetta against him took too much energy at this point when it was no longer warranted.

To your luck, you could excuse the fiery feeling rising to your cheeks as a result of the sweltering sun. No matter how hard you tried, your former memory of him melted away. You could no longer see Rafe as the pesky little boy he once was. Perhaps a symptom of heat stroke, you thought. Hopefully it would be temporary, you still had the whole summer with Rafe ahead of you.

“I almost forgot you’re supposed to be teaching me how to play this joke of a sport.” You gripe. “Will you show me?”

Rafe bites his bottom lip to avoid cracking a smile. That you had finally cracked, giving in to ask him for help. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Leaning off the cart, Rafe saunters over to you. “I need you to start on your form first. May I?” He offered, gesturing to set his arms over yours for some adjustment.

With a slow nod, you decide to taunt him further. He’s not gonna get away that easy. “You’re not chewing any gum are you?”

“No, Y/n.” He responds, and you can just hear the smirk in his tone. Hearing your name roll off his tongue makes your stomach flutter— now feeling his body against yours, the heat increasing tenfold.

“Hold the club firmly, and swing through the ball, not at the ball.” He guides your arms with his, mimicking how to prepare for a swing. As his head peers over your shoulder, you swear you hear his breath hitch at the faint aroma of your perfume. Rafe almost seems relaxed, doing the movements with you a few times over again before stepping back to let you try it.

You do just as he taught you, and Rafe repeats the instructions under his breath as he watches you take your swing.

From the woosh of the ball leaving the grass, your eyes follow as it lands in a close proximity to the cup. With a scream of victory, your hands collide with Rafe’s in a high five, before wrapping your arms around his neck, his hand instinctively falling to rest at your waist as he pulls you into a hug. “Atta girl!” He marvels.

“I did it!” You cheer, smile beaming off your face. Once the initial shock wears off, you realize whose arms you’re engulfed in, stepping back from the embrace abruptly. “Uhm- I’m sorry. I didn’t…” You begin, trying to explain yourself and your sudden outburst of physical affection.

“Don’t apologize.” Rafe assures, reaching his hand out for yours. You accept it with a shy smile. “You did great for your first big swing. Can’t say I’m surprised, though, you do have one hell of a teacher.”

“He’s not bad.” You confess. “Actually, better than I thought.”

Rafe quirks an eyebrow, his cerulean orbs gazing into your eyes, finding for once they held not one drop of bad blood while looking back at him. He steps forward, the space keeping you both apart dwindling. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Don’t tell him I said that, it’ll go straight to his head.”

His eyes flicker from yours then to your glossed lips, which is the final straw before giving into your growing urge to kiss him. Rafe’s free hand clings to your cheek immediately as he deepens the kiss; as if a magnetic pull between you two had clicked.

Pulling away, the surprise on Rafe’s face is evident, but the confidence in his voice made it impossible to tell a difference. “I’m glad to see you came to your senses and forgave me.”

“Jumping to conclusions already? What makes you think you’re forgiven?”

Rafe shrugs, and that familiar look of pride returns to his expression. His thumb grazes across the apple of your cheek, and his hand gives a gentle squeeze to your waist. “Call it a wild hunch.”

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x f!reader #outer banks #obx #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #drew starkey #rafe cameron fluff

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marvelous-slut · 5 months

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Rekindle - Opie Winston x Reader

Y’all I’ve underestimated just how sexy Opie is. Like, stop for a minute and look at him. I’ve literally had this in my draft forever and I’m glad to finally get her out.

Warnings: MINORS, as always DNI! 18+ ONLY! Smut head folks.

_________

You turn the engine to your car off as you finally made it to the familiar garage. Teller Morrow. It had been at least 10 years since you’d gotten out of Charming and never looked back, even sitting in the garage brought back too many memories for your brain to count. Most were horrible memories, your father Otto being arrested right outside the club house/garage. Your mother coming in late into the night, drunken and loud. Knocking over things she didn’t need but wouldn’t throw away. If she didn’t come home, you knew she was right inside the club house sobbing for your father who was constantly in and out of prison. The more you thought about the horrible memories, the more pissed off you felt yourself becoming. You decided it was time to go in and face the members of SAMCRO, find out exactly what had happened to your mother. A part of you figured she’d gotten killed due to something with the club, or maybe one of her porn costars had beaten her to death. Whatever it was, you couldn’t allow yourself to feel one hundred percent sad about it. Your parents were never really parents, who could be when they were so invested in the club life?

You walk in to the club house, not much has changed since 10 years ago. The same smell of pussy and booze, the same mug shots hanging on the wall with the exception of a few who you assumed to be members. One struck you, taking it in as you looked at the familiar face. Harry Winston.

“Jesus Christ Ope.” You say softly, before you have any time to think about what he did or if he was still in, a voice brings you out of your thoughts.

“Well look at who’s here!” Piney, it was so good to see him. Even if he looked sick with the oxygen tubing sticking out of his nose. You walk over to him, opening your arms for his warm embrace. “How you doin’ kid?” He asks, smiling largely.

“I’m good Piney, how’d you end up with that shit hanging from your nose?” He chuckles deeply, letting out a cough once he’s done.

“Lung issues, too many Marlboros I guess.” You laugh and he pats you on the back, before you can ask any questions about Opie you get your answer. He stands outside the door of the chapel, leaning up against it and seeming like he’d rather be anywhere but here. Seeing you wasn’t something he was looking forward to like the rest of the club.

“Well, glad to see you made it out for someone’s funeral.” He speaks coldly before walking out of the club house completely. Piney can see the discomfort on your face and speaks up.

“Ignore him, he’s been a real prick since Donna died.” Donna, it had been two years since she passed. He was still mad about that? You sigh and shake your head. You didn’t attend Donnas funeral and maybe you should have, maybe you should have been there to support Opie. He’d called you after it happened, drunken and slurring almost every word that come out of his mouth. You felt it was disrespectful to Donna to come to her funeral and comfort her husband, who you dated for years and considered your first love. It didn’t feel right no matter what way you thought about it, so you didn’t come. That was the last time you’d heard from him until today.

“I guess death can do that to a person. I’ll see you later Piney, I have to go get started looking for a dress to bury mom in.” He hugs you once more, this time a little more tight than before.

“He still cares about you kid. He loved Donna, but he loved you too.” He whispers, making you go cold. You break the hug and smile at him softly, heading out the club house doors as fast as you could. Hoping Piney didn’t notice the grief written all over your face.

__________

You had been through many challenges before, but trying to find your mother an outfit for her funeral that wasn’t completely revealing may be something you weren’t able to do. She’d turned the house into an even bigger dump than it was before you left, ashtrays filled to the brim with butts, beer cans and bottles scattered everywhere. Clothes thrown to the side, on the tv, in the floor. It was a wreck. You prayed it wouldn’t be yours to deal with now. You move a pile of books on the bed to the side to lay out what clothing looked appropriate to bury someone in when a stack of photos falls out. You pick them up, looking at each one. A photo of you and Otto on his Harley, you were maybe 6 years old in the photo. It made you smile, even if there was a lot of shit memories connected to your father you did know he loved you. You knew it was shitty not to call or even visit him, if they’d even let you. You look to the next picture, feeling like someone had just hit you in the chest. A photo of you and Opie on your senior prom night.

“God, my hair. My face.” You say softly, laughing at how much different you looked. Your eyes roam over to Opie, he was much smaller than he is now. Hardly any hair on the poor boys face compared to now. You sigh, folding the picture and sticking it in your pocket. Maybe you’d get to show it to him, if he lets go of the issue of Donnas funeral before you leave. The knock at the door takes you away from reminiscing. You’re in shock at who stands behind the white, dirt covered door.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for earlier. I guess I’m bad at letting shit go.” Opie says, he leans against the frame of the door, before you can suggest for him not to do it. “Can I come in?” You move out of the door way, noticing him looking around the disaster of a house.

“It’s a fuckin’ dump. Luann couldn’t keep a house up worth a shit apparently.” You say, he laughs a little bit. “There’s no way I’m staying here. Guess I’ll get a hotel till I go home.” You say, moving around some clutter, scared to sit on the couch even after it’s gone.

“If you need a place to crash, I’m sure the club wouldn’t mind if you stayed at the house. My house is pretty empty too, wife being dead and all.” You weren’t sure how to react to the last comment, so you didn’t acknowledge it.

“Thanks Ope. I found this going through moms stuff.” You hand him the photo, as soon as he looks at it he laughs. You feel your chest tighten when he does, even after all the years apart he still had an affect on you.

“Jesus, look how fuckin’ scrawny.” He says, you remember the first time he’d ever put his kutte on, how it was so baggy on him. He’d definitely grew into it over the years. “You were pretty, still are.” He says, you can’t help but smile at the comment.

“Don’t kiss my ass just cause you were being a shit head.” He grins, knowing you were half right. He felt awful for being so cold toward you, especially this being the chance to let you know that he’s never forgotten you. How you’d haunted him nearly everyday for the last 10 years.

“Listen, I gotta get going. Got some shit with the club that needs handled. If you need to crash at my place, you know where I am.”

“Thanks Ope. I really appreciate it. I’ll see you later?” He nods his head and closes the door behind him. You place your back to the door, hanging your head down. It shouldn’t be this way, the high school sweet heart still having some stupid affect on your mind years later. You look up, opening your eyes to a large rat sitting in front of you.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You scream, grabbing the dress you’d found for your mother and slamming the door behind you.

__________

The porch light is barley shining when you step up to the door. You knock on the door, not having to wait long before it’s answered. Opie stands in the door way, only in a towel. Hair still wet from showering. You feel your eyes widen, looking him up and down. You knew it was obvious even if you had been praying it wasn’t.

“Sorry, didn’t think you’d stop by.” He says, moving out of the door way. You step in, the place was much different than your mothers. Clean, neat, no reason to be scared of being on the couch.

“So you just answer the door for anyone half naked?”

“Just the pretty ones.” You feel your face heat up at the comment. Embarrassed that you’re blushing like this. You place a hand on his thigh, rubbing it gently.

“Ope, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” You say softly, he brings your head up to face him. Looking into his eyes makes your heart go faster than it had in years. He places his hand on the side of your cheek, caressing it gently.

“It’s okay.” Before you can respond, you feel yourself move closer, kissing him. He moves his hands to your hips as you stratal him, gripping them tightly. You run your fingers through his damp hair, the last time this had happened was when the two of you were 19 years old, what you’d thought would be the last time you ever got to be this close to him. You break the kiss and head down to the towel that covered him, uncovering his hardened cock. Turns out, everything about him had grown some in ten years. You lower your head down, running your tongue up his cock as he moans out. One thing you love about Opie, he never was afraid to be loud. He’d let you know how good you made him feel. You wrap your lips around his cock, moving your head up and down. Slowly, trying to get him going and eager for you. It worked very fast, he grabs a fist full of your hair, tugging it gently trying to get you to pick up the pace. It was hard to take him in your mouth without choking, you hadn’t been blessed with no gag reflex like most. Taking him little by little however, was driving him insane.

“Too big for you to handle now?” He asks, you can just in-vision the smirk plastered across his face. You decide to take it as a challenge, taking him until he hits the back of your throat. You hold in your gags, but the tears forming in your eyes can’t hide that you’re struggling with taking every inch of him.

“Fuck.” He mutters out, leaning his head up to watch the sight in-front of him. A sight that as much as he was ashamed to admit, thought about from time to time even while he was married to Donna. You pull your mouth off of him, slowly, letting him feel every movement as you do. He groans out, as you straighten yourself up, he’s pulling at the waistband of your shorts. Silently, he begs you to take them off. You begin to unbutton them and he helps get your underwear and shorts off swiftly. Eager to be inside of you. You reach your hands down to discard your shirt before you slide yourself down onto him. Your walls stretching with every inch you take of him. Moaning out, you rest your hands on his chest. He places his hands back onto your hips, helping you move and watches your face as you adjust to him.

“Oh my God. Ope.” You whimper out, moving yourself faster and more steady onto him. A hand finds its way to your breast, grasping it firmly. He moves his hand farther up to your mouth, he drags his thumb over your lips slowly. You open your mouth far enough for him to graze it over your teeth. Before you know it, you’re flipped onto your back. The feeling of him reinserting himself makes you whine out, arching your back as he picks up a steady pace. You turn your head, closing your eyes and taking in the feeling of pleasure that’s overwhelming your senses. He uses one of his hands to turn your head back to him, holding it there.

“I want you to look me in the eyes. I want to see how good I make you feel.” The words make you even wetter than you were, which at this point you’d thought was impossible. He feels your nails digging into his back, using your hands to pull him closer to you. Looking at your face and the way you tightly had your legs wrapped around him, he knew you were close to cumming. He speeds up, thrusting into you faster and a touch harder than before.

“Fuck! Ope-“ You’re unable to get another word out before you feel yourself tighten around him. You grab him, pulling him down and smashing your lips against his. You grind against him, making sure to ride the orgasm as long as possible. Feeling you grind against him sends him over the edge, he groans out as he releases into you. You would thank God later for the birth control pills, but right now that was the last thing on your mind. He pulls himself out of you, laying down beside you as you both try to catch your breaths. You try to make the shaking in your legs stop, but it’s useless. You decide to just lay there until you don’t feel shaky or hazy.

“So much for small talk huh?” You ask, he chuckles and stretches out his arm for you to come over. You do so, resting your head on his chest. The feeling feels so good, so familiar and you hate to think about it ending. Suddenly dreading going back home.

“Yeah. Maybe we can do that in the morning.” He says, kissing the top of your head.

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader #opie winston #opie winston x reader #sons of anarchy smut #sons of anarchy imagine #opie winston smut #opie winston imagine #soa smut

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rafedaddy01 · 7 months

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“I think I Love you Baby”

Summary: Rafe finds a new toy that he can corrupt, but he doesn’t expect to fall madly in love with her..

Requests are always welcomed!

A/n: this is something that’s been in my drafts forever and tbh I’m pretty proud of it, lmk what you guys think.

Rafe Cameron.

The boy who you’ve been in love with since grade school. The most popular boy in school.

He never paid any attention to you. Why would he? You were just a low life.

Sure you were a kook, but you weren’t like the girls he had his arm around every week.

You were invisible to him.

That is until you got invited to a party by mistake.

You entered the party wearing a white sundress with a matching headband. Your long hair flowing in the back, ending just above your butt.

You looked hot. Not your usual attire, but you were feeling rather bold tonight.

As soon as you entered a drink was put into your hand.

You don’t usually drink alcohol, but you figured if you’d try to get Rafes attention tonight a little liquid courage wouldn’t hurt.

After about 5 drinks you stumbled onto the dance floor.

“Oh I love this song!” You squealed as you started swaying your hips.

The alcohol running through your body making you hot and your vision blur as you swayed left to right, left to right.

Too caught up in your own drunkness and not caring who was watching you, a familiar smell enclosed from behind you.

“You sure know how to get a guys attention” his voice whispered in your ear as he pressed up behind you.

He rested his hands on your waist, rocking his hips with yours.

You giggled as his nose nudged your neck, laying small kisses onto it.

You leaned your head back against his chest and gave into his touch.

The song ended and he flipped you around.

Coming face to face with Rafe, Your cheeks flushed red as your nerves got the best of you.

“Ah baby, don’t tell me your getting all nervous now. After grinding up on me and giving me this..” he raised his eyebrows as you both looked down at his growing erection.

You had yet to speak.

“It’s okay. I like the shy ones” he leaned into your ear, brushing your hair off your shoulder

“Easier to corrupt” his whisper sent goosebumps to your skin and caused the wetness in your panties to flood even more.

A small whimper left your lips.

“I- please” you weren’t sure what you were asking for, but it sure had some effect on rafe.

He groaned as he looked at your face.

‘So pure, so innocent’ rafe thought as he watched you squirm and your thighs clench shut.

“Let’s go upstairs” he said, grabbing your hand and leading you through the party and up the stairs to a spare room.

You walked in and Rafe locked the door behind you.

“I realized I don’t even know your name” he said turning around to face you.

He smiled, a genuine smile.

“Y/n” you squeaked out as you looked down at your feet.

“Rafe” he answered back

“I know” you muttered as you built the courage to look up.

He pressed his tongue on the inside of his cheek and laughed as he walked a bit closer.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around, you must be new” he said pushing a stand of hair behind your ear.

You shook your head

Unable to form any words from how close he was to you, from how he was touching you, from how is smell encased your nose. It was all too much and it felt like a dream.

He smirked at your awkwardness.

“Your so cute” he said coming a bit closer to your face.

“Ca- can I kiss you?” He asked

You nodded your head as you made eye contact with him.

His baby blue irises piercing into yours.

He tangled his fingers into your hair and brought his free hand up to your chin, gripping it with his thumb and lifting your head up

He brought his lips down to yours.

The kiss was soft at first.

Eventually his tongue slipped into your mouth, dancing against yours.

A small moan left your throat as he pushed you back against the bed, never separating your lips.

He pulled back and examined you.

Your hair sprawled out on the comforter. Your cheeks flushed and your lips plump.

His eyes went lower as he stared at your tits, nipples pebbling against the fabric.

“I can’t wait to ruin you, gonna turn you into my little sex kitten” he growled as his lips attached to yours once again

“Rafe..” you huffed as his kissed travelled lower to your neck, collarbone and chest.

“What is it baby?” He purred in between kisses to your shoulder.

“I- I need you to touch me” you said nervously as you bit your lip.

You were so desperate and embarrassed you couldn’t look at him, instead your eyes focused on the ceiling above you.

“Look at me” he said sternly as his fingertips danced on your thigh.

You looked down a took a deep breath as you made eye contact.

“Where do you need my touch baby?” He said as his fingers danced higher.

“Here?” He asked as he touched your inner thigh

You shook you head.

“Words” he said staring at you

“If you want something you need to learn to ask for it”

You swallowed hard as your panties soaked even more.

“I- I need you to touch my pussy!” You all but shouted.

He chuckled darkly as he bunched up your dress.

“Now we’re talking”

Part 2

@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @eventualoptimism

#outer banks #rafe cameron #drew starkey #dark rafe cameron #outerbanks #smut #drewstarkey #drewstarkey smut #rafecameron #fanfic #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe x reader

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90s-2000s-barbie · 1 month

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I wanted to post my more in-depth thrift tips.

I had an ask a while ago asking for my advice on tips. And I’ve had this in my drafts for a while just to make sure I really added everything I wanted to. So I’ve been going to thrift stores and garage sales my whole life but really picked it and collecting up as a hobby in 2009. Starting with basics. When I personally thrift, I go to local flea markets, thrift stores, garage sales, church sales, goodwills, any place near by that re sells used items. It’s cheaper in person than looking online. 100%.

My Main Rules:

Never pay full price. This stuff is USED and older for that matter. I don’t care if people think it’s rare, it’s used. Some things are on their last legs of life. I can’t tell you how many times I bought a vintage item or even clothes and they break, tear ex as soon as u get home, test it out, wear it then it breaks! It happens!) always keep that in mind. I also like to keep E6000 clear glue around just in case it’s something I can fix. (If u also try E6000, make sure to follow instructions on bottle exact and it will hold up forever. I glued heavy glass and it’s still together years later)

Only possibly think of spending a little more if the item is in a box and old stock or if it’s super meaningful to you. BUT if u use my tips, u can find old stock in boxes cheap even or decent priced when thrifting. I only pay little more or seek something out if it’s meaningful to me or extremely sentimental. (Old favorite toy or I got rid of and want back, something I always wanted and can now cause I’m 30! Ex….) 😂 otherwise, I don’t buy if the price isn’t right.

If you aren’t sure if it’s actually vintage, look for the year on the item, tag ex, or if u have a phone, look it up, look up the brand! Some super old stuff don’t have years on them too so keep that in mind, helps to use google.

I feel like if u go thrifting enough, u will find whatever you are looking for eventually so if the price isn’t right, don’t buy! You will probably see it again eventually and if you also do this as a hobby, u have a lifetime to come upon it again. lol

Go when u can afford it or really want to. I use to go WEEKLY, I would find things every week cause they constantly have different stuff. lol but now I have bills now and things are expensive, so it’s just not realistic for me anymore. I go once or maybe twice a month if I’m lucky. BUT I will admit, u will find a lot of items if u go weekly and can get first dibs but it can get pricey as it all adds up of course.

Leave no stones unturned. So when I go to the thrifting, I look EVERYWHERE. I spend HOURS. lol Sometimes u find the best stuff in the weirdest spots! I found a ADULT Powerpuff girls sweater from 2000 in the kids xl section! I’ve found vintage bedding on random clothing wracks. Sometimes things get moved, you will be surprised on what u will find.

So this use to be one of my rules when I had a better phone plan lol but if I feel like I’m questioning a price on an item, I use to look it up on eBay or google. (If you use eBay, their is settings they show what items actually sell for and not just what they r listed as. THIS HELPS. Sometimes people put insane prices but they definitely aren’t selling for that much! Helps to see the actual value if u need to.)

If u go to garage sales or flea markets, don’t be scared to ask for prices or make offers. If u like it, ask! If the price isn’t right, just say thanks and go on ur merry way. Key is always be nice and respectful if they don’t budge on price. You’ll probably see it again. lol. Least u asked! I use to be too shy to ask and I’d regret it! Also I’d go home empty sometimes cause of it. But now, I seem to really connect with people and try to be nice, talk to them like a potential friend! Sometimes the interaction makes my day and I can get a laugh out of some people. Even sometimes being nice and funny person can go a long way with others. One time I went to a small town and it was the last day of garage sale weekend and people just seemed so nice and liked me, they gave me stuff for free it kept happening throughout the day! lol Sometimes people won’t budge on prices though and that’s fine. And other times, people just want stock or items gone! lol They want money, they don’t wanna take the junk back inside their home and I get it! lol for example, one place gave me stuff for free cause she was trying to get rid of kids toys, her kids had so much she gave me stuff for free, some powerpuff girl plushies for 25 cents! One time, I had a guy tell me a doll I was looking at was worth $200. (Which He was right they sold for that much in box, I looked it up when I got home) he said was worth $200 but he was asking $20 cause he wanted it sold. He had no attachment and needed extra cash as he kept buying to resell but hasn’t sold much. I told him she’s cute but idk. I kept looking at his other items. Finally when I walked away, he shouted $10! I bought her up! lol One day, I bought a giant box of McDonald’s toys, (second photo from top right above the TMNT bag) for $2 for the entire Box!! Completely full! Was a family at the flea market that was just having a garage sale so to speak, they were moving so they didn’t want anything! lol Also an example too of the opposite scenario, an older lady was selling all spice girls dolls in box for $80 dollars all together (at the time the whole lot was cheaper on eBay, they were $45 for the lot and this stuff wasn’t popular so it just wasn’t selling at the time.) I asked price of baby spice alone and she wouldn’t split the band. I said ok thanks and went on my merry way! I later in life got 3 of the girls for $10 to $6 a piece in box. lol

HAVE FUN. This is my hobby. I’ve been doing this as a hobby since 2009! Of course it takes a while to get as much as I have. But I really only recommend thrifting if u REALLY enjoy it and collecting. You really have to enjoy it and to keep going! It’s like a treasure hunt to me! I do it as a collector cause it’s a blast. I‘ve met such interesting people, I’ve seen such cool things even if I didn’t bring it home and couldn’t afford the item. It’s fun! It’s so exciting to find something on a shelf u haven’t seen in years. Also fun to find things u forgot existed or just speak to u personally! I literally buy anything that just feels like it belongs with me anymore. I fall in love with the moment I look at it. I use to think, oh people will think I’m weird? and I still remember those items I passed up YEARS later and say why did I leave that behind? lol 😂 It’s such a cool hobby. I can tell u what I paid for just about everything! 😂 I remember it all cause I really do love it and I LOVE deals.

Also, all the pictures above are mine and things I thrifted, do not steal! If u have any questions about how much I paid for some of these items, or have any questions in general, don’t be afraid to ask. If u wanna know tips about thrifting on toys, clothes, ex, please ask! I will try to help to the best of my knowledge. The 2nd photo, 6th, 7th, 9th and 10th photo are perfect examples cause it’s everything I got at ONE flea market or thrift store, just one stop. Sometimes I find full collections! Each photo are from different days but are definitely good examples. Also if I forget anything I feel is super important to add, I’ll probably post another part 2 or something. ❤️ hope this helps someone.

I think it it would be cool, if any followers decided to thrift or if you use any of my tips and find some cool stuff, to make a post and tag me! Show me ur cool finds, what tips helped the you the best if u feel like adding that.

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st4rgzer · 2 months

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PROM QUEEN (matt sturniolo)

summary: loosely based on the song “prom queen” by Beach Bunny

genre: angst but fluff at the end!

cw!: self deprecating, insecurities, this is a heavy one!!

a/n: had this one in my drafts for forever and i’m not sure if i’ve ever posted this or not so sorry😭

I looked in the mirror and barely recognized the person looking back at me, my eye bags were far more visible then normal, my skin, pale, I had not gone out in at least a week. I had about 15 missed calls from Matt, nothing happened between us, I just didn’t feel like responding, life doesn’t feel real. I feel heavy when I walk and every step is a mile, mirrors have always been my biggest enemy but since I’ve started dating Matt it had gotten better, for some reason, I’ve started to fall into my bad habits again. I’m once again the kid that would always insist on being the one piggybacking, always the one at the bottom of the pyramid, and in high school I was never cut out for prom queen.

Pretty wasn’t a word I’d use to describe me, even if people insisted in calling me that, I never thought the same way, what were they seeing that I wasn’t?

Matt always seemed to ease these thoughts when he thought I was getting self conscious, or saying negative things about myself. Him being a popular public figure, girls are all over him, pretty girls, why was he wasting his time with me when he could be with them?

“don’t think that baby, you know I love you, only you, I promise I wouldn’t change you for anyone” he’d say. But he had to say that, it’s his duty as a boyfriend, i doubt he even means that.

After rotting in my bed for another good hour I decided to pick up one of his calls, I didn’t want him to think I was dead.

“y/n? where are you? are you ok-? why haven’t you been picking up?” He said, the panic evident in his voice.

“I had my phone on silent and I was- I was taking a shower” I responded hesitantly, seeing if he was buying it or not, I didn’t want to make up something so bizarre but I didn’t want to have to tell him the truth. I realized how hoarse my voice sounded.

“well, open up. I’m at your door.”

My thoughts froze. I hung up, repeating the word “no” in my head, I got up, I wasn’t going to just leave him hanging. As I went downstairs I remembered how much of a mess I looked like, absolute rubbish. I reluctantly opened the door with my head down, I couldn’t bare to look him in the eyes.

When he caught a good glimpse of me I could see the way his face softened, feeling pitiful for me.

“baby…”

He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me in tightly, closing the door with the back of his shoe. As i felt my breath becoming quicker, I let it all out, sobbing against his chest, his heartbeat guiding my breath somehow.

“okay look at me love, follow my breathing ok?” he said softly, grabbing my shoulders slightly and tilting my chin up so I’d look at him. I did as he said, my shaky breath trying to slow down and imitate his.

“good, you’re doing so good baby” he whispered. Eventually my breaths slowed down, my eyes stung and my head was hurting from the previous crying, my hair was messy and frizzy, my cheeks were swollen and wet, yet he held me, he kissed my forehead and just held me, he didn’t force me to say anything right now. He didn’t insist on telling him what had happened. He whispered sweet nothings and “i love you”’s in my ear every once in a while.

I’m grateful for Matt, im going to to take more care of myself, for him, and then eventually, I’ll be able to do it for me.

a/n: if this is shit i apologize but have this while i finish my other fics i have coming up😭

taglist: @dwntwn-strnlo @eyelessdemon @gabbylovesreading @ssturniolo @thetriplets3 @strnlsblog @stvrni0lo

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo image #matt sturniolo fluff #Spotify

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beaconfeels · 3 months

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@like-lazarus kindly tagged me in a “Messy Draft Monday” and even though I’ve been too stressed to be actively working on anything right now, I wanted to share something. So have a little bit of one of the random steter stories floating around in my brain:

Peter finishes loading the last bag into his car and leans against the trunk for a minute. Overall, he feels satisfied. His revenge is complete, plus he’s an alpha, which is a nice little perk.

It’s a little galling to have to leave the Hale territory instead of ruling it, but if he stays here his nephew and that merry little band of budding psychopaths will kill him eventually. He’s lucky, but he’s not that lucky.

The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps catches his ear first, then a quick heartbeat. He knows that heartbeat. He memorized that heartbeat one night that seems so long ago, but really wasn’t that long ago at all.

He turns around.

“Stiles,” he says, low, dangerous. Because he likes Stiles, but Stiles is most likely to come up with a murder plot that will actually work, so he’s not to be trifled with.

The boy pulls up short, staying well back from Peter. He’s breathing hard, and those pretty pink lips are parted, his cheeks flushed. He really is very lovely, Peter thinks.

Stiles has a large duffle bag weighing down one shoulder, his grip on it white-knuckled. “Take me with you,” he says.

Peter blinks. He thought he was beyond being surprised.

“You want me, right?” Stiles goes on. “You wanted to turn me. I can’t let you bite me, but I can be pack. Just take me with you. Let me stay with you and I’ll be pack. I’ll cook too, and clean.”

“Can’t let me bite you?” Peter asks. It’s not the only question he has, but it’s the one that sticks out the most in what Stiles has just laid on him.

“I don’t think so. Maybe? But right now it’s a no.” He bites his lip, taps his fingers on his leg. “Yeah. Definitely a no right now. Maybe forever. But humans can be pack, right?”

Peter doesn’t know why he’s even still standing here. Of course he’s not going to take Stiles with him. “You don’t even know where I’m going,” he says instead of what he should be saying, which is obviously no. It’s definitely not happening.

“I don’t fucking care,” Stiles says, and he sounds suddenly weary. “As long as it’s not here, I’m cool.”

Peter tilts his head. Stiles is such a mix of scents it’s always been hard to get a read on him, but Peter has noticed the anguish that radiates off the boy in waves. It’s a layer that runs under everything else— a steady, overwhelming sadness. “And what would your father have to say about that?” He still doesn’t know why he’s even engaging in it, why he’s giving the boy any hope.

Stiles snorts. “I left him a note that he’ll find whenever he finally realizes I’m gone. He won’t come after me.” He looks down and to the side, his hand clenching into a fist.

“Listen,” Stiles says, and he raises those big brown eyes to look right at Peter, “I can’t stay here anymore. Please. Just please, take me with you. I know I can’t promise not to be any trouble, you’d never believe that, but I can be useful. I can be good for you. I can be pack.”

He’s desperate, and that shouldn’t matter. If it were anyone else it wouldn’t matter, but this is Stiles. Stiles is unusual. He’s interesting. Now that he’s had his revenge, Peter is at a bit of a loose end. Not without plans, never without plans, but the future already looks a little boring. Stiles is many things, but boring isn’t one of them.

Plus, Stiles is the Sheriff’s son, and absconding with the son of the sheriff sounds like a delightfully mischievous, if misguided, end to his run in Beacon Hills. “Alright, you can come along.”

#my writing #steter #wips #I’m usually here for good dad Noah #but listen sometimes you need to take your dad issues out on innocent characters #for both catharsis and plot #also the irony of Peter calling Derek’s pack budding psychopaths is not lost on me

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writingonleaves · 5 months

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will you take a moment? promise me this (that you'll stand by me forever) - the blue au

universe: the blue au (clementine sandoval x hughes brothers x nico hischier)

warnings: swearing, mentions of death, more sadness than i intended originally, mentions of covid during one particular part, so so much fluff!!

title + based on: "long live" by taylor swift, "i'll always remember you" by hannah montana, "ribs" by lorde, "vienna" by billy joel, "home" by edward sharpe & the magnetic zeros and "a letter to my younger self" by ambar lucid. title from "long live"

word count: 14k

author's note: graduation / draft moments that technically take place before the first installment. though you should read the first part for context if you haven't yet! romance who? we ride and die with found family. i def made myself cry a few times writing this. happy american thanksgiving to all those who celebrate. hold your family and loved ones close. hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you think <3

2018 - dallas, texas

i wish you love, i wish you luck

for you, the world just opens up

- “i’ll always remember you” by hannah montana

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Dallas. The time is currently 12:26 p.m. and the current temperature outside is a very toasty 91 degrees Fahrenheit.”

Clementine tunes out after that. 91 degrees? She’s gonna die when she gets out of the airport.

As soon as she exits the plane, she follows the signs to the baggage claim, waiting for her luggage that isn’t only for this next week, but is for the entire summer as well before she returns to UCLA in the fall. After the draft, she’s heading back to Massachusetts to work in a clinic for the summer.

Fuck, she just had her last final three days ago. She feels like it never stops. Sometimes she wishes it would.

But she shakes her head to herself, watching as her bag comes closer. None of that now. She’s about to celebrate one of her favorite people making their dream come true. She smiles to herself as she wheels her suitcase and adjusts the straps of her backpack, not quite running but pretty close to it as she walks through the arrivals terminal of Dallas Fort Worth International Airport.

“Clementine!” She whips her head over to see Ellen’s unmistakable blonde hair and wide smile, waving enthusiastically. Next to her is Maeve, her own mother with a more subdued smile, her carry-on suitcase beside her. They had scheduled their flights so that they’d land around the same time. To Clementine’s absolute delight, she sees Jack and Luke right before Luke comes flying at her.

“Oof,” she groans as Luke hugs her tightly, burying his head into her shoulder. “God. You need to stop growing.”

“Never,” he mutters into her neck before letting go with a bright smile. “Hi Clemmy!”

She grins back. “Hi Lukey. I’ve missed you.”

“My turn!” She laughs as Jack shoves his brother aside and sways her around. He messed up her hair before pulling away. “I’m so pumped you’re here.”

“Me too, Jackson.” Both moms finally get to where they are and she hugs Ellen before hugging her own mother. “When did you land?”

“About an hour ago.”

Clementine cringes. “Yeah, we were delayed back at LAX. Sorry.”

Ellen waves her apology away as they start heading out of the airport, Jack grabbing her suitcase and Luke grabbing Maeve’s. “No worries. We’re just excited you both are here.”

“El, we wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Maeve says. And her mom’s right, Clementine thinks. Quinn’s getting drafted into the NHL. She can’t remember a time when this wasn’t his dream.

“How have you been? How’s college?” Jack asks. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever.”

“We literally all FaceTimed last week,” Luke says while avoiding Jack’s slap.

“It’s not the same,” Jack whines. Clementine rolls her eyes at his tone, but he kinda has a point. FaceTimes and texts are never the same as their in-person debriefs, which have become fewer and more in-depth since all four of them are in different-ish places now (though Jack and Luke technically still live under the same roof and Quinn isn’t that far).

Clementine feels a pang in her heart, knowing that the amount of debriefs will only get fewer and fewer as the years go on.

“College is good,” she automatically squints against the sun the second they get outside. “Same old, same old. Didn’t fail any classes somehow, which is always a win.”

Ellen snorts. “Honey, you’re literally the smartest girl I know. I don’t think failing is in your vocabulary.”

“No, literally.” Luke adds.

“Aw, not true. Thank you, but not true. And this weekend isn’t about me.” Clementine whips out her arm in front of Jack’s front so that he doesn’t get run over by a car. “I didn’t expect to see you two until dinner.”

Jack shrugs. “We were gonna tag along with Dad, but we already did to some of his stuff yesterday and it was so boring.”

Clementine snorts. “Well, he’s technically kind of working this weekend, no?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think it would be that boring,” Jack says.

“You two better get used to it then,” she swings an arm around both Jack and Luke’s shoulders. “Especially you, Jacky. This is gonna be you next year.”

Jack groans, but Clementine knows he secretly loves it. “Ugh. Don’t remind me. You’re gonna be here, right?”

“Where?”

“Next year. At the draft.”

“What? Of course I will.” How dare he think differently? “And whenever Luke’s is. You guys are silly for thinking otherwise.”

“But what if you’re too busy saving lives?”

“It doesn't matter where I am. I’ll be there,” Clementine promises, as they all climb into the car.

“Clem’s right, boys.” Maeve says, turning around from the passenger seat as Ellen starts the engine. “You can’t get rid of us that easily.” Luke responds by putting his chin on Maeve’s shoulder as she reaches up to tap his cheek fondly. “Have you all gotten the chance to see Quinn much?”

“Here and there,” Ellen says. “Media and last minute meetings with teams have been keeping him busy though.”

Clementine has naturally always known more about the hockey world than the average person purely from her circumstances, but within the last month or so — mostly when she’s been procrastinating on studying for final exams — she’s been poking around online to see people’s pre-draft predictions. Obviously, she knows they’re just speculations, but she wanted to get an idea of what the general world has been thinking of Quinn. She thinks he’s the best at everything, but she’s aware she’s incredibly biased.

She hasn’t really talked to Quinn, or the other two, about it, knowing that it’s all they’ve been thinking or hearing about and there’s no use adding onto the noise. But Clementine wants to be prepared. From her research, people have Quinn going to places from Arizona to Vancouver to Ottawa. She’s seen Detroit a good amount. One or two said New York or Chicago.

But at the end of the day, truly, it doesn't matter. For her at least. He’s getting drafted into the National Hockey League and Clementine brought two waterproof mascaras to prepare.

“God, El.” Maeve puts a hand on her best friend’s shoulder. “You must be so proud.”

“It’s definitely a big week,” Ellen says. Jack puts his head on Clementine’s shoulder because she somehow ended up in the middle seat. But she doesn’t shove him off like she usually would.

Every time she sees these boys — this family — again, she feels more grateful to have them.

“Thanks for picking us up,” Clementine says. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Oh, it was nothing.” Ellen says. “Now tell us about college, honey. Only one more year to go! Well, of undergrad at least.”

…..

Later that night, they’re about to go inside a nice restaurant for dinner when Clementine squeals, launching herself at Quinn. She feels his laughter as she squeezes tight and she holds on longer than normal.

“Hey Clem,” he says.

She pulls back and smiles, before hugging him again. “Hi Q.”

“It’s so good to see you,” he says, as Clementine lets go to let him hug Maeve, who sways him. Clementine thinks she sees her mother’s eyes water.

Clementine turns to beam at Jim. “Hi Jimmy!”

“Hey sunshine,” he says with a laugh, hugging her and kissing her on the cheek. “Glad you and your mom made it.”

“Of course.” They all file into the restaurant and take their seats. She sits inbetween Quinn and Ellen with Jack directly across from her. She narrows her eyes when he kicks her foot and purposefully avoids her eye contact.

She turns to Quinn with a wide smile. “Look at you. You’re such a star.”

Quinn laughs nervously. “What are you talking about?”

“We’re here. In Dallas. To watch you get drafted. This is a big deal!”

“Are you gonna cry?” Luke teases.

Clementine snorts. “Of course I am. Stupid question, Lukey. I’m gonna be crying all weekend.” She wraps an arm around Quinn and leans in for a side hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to come to see you play at Michigan this year. I’ll try my best next season.”

“What?” Quinn asks, genuinely confused. “It’s okay. I-I didn’t expect you to. You’re busy at school.”

She shrugs, thanking the waitress for pouring out her glass of water before turning back to Quinn. “I want to, though. Jack and Luke and even Trevor keep texting me that I need to come to one.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Quinn says. And Clementine knows he means it too, the sweet boy. “I’m serious. You already stream the games and that’s completely unnecessary.”

“Sorry I want to support my best friend slash brother.”

Quinn pouts, “Well now I feel like an asshole.”

Clementine just smirks as everyone looks over the menu.

Dinner is simply wonderful. The food is yummy but the company is even better, as she finds herself laughing loudly at all of Ellen’s classic stories and Maeve bouncing off of her old friend seamlessly. Clementine just giggles under her breath as she watches Jim sit there in amusement and sometimes exasperation, ordering a second beer before their main courses even come. The boys are the boys, lively as ever and filled with love. The feeling of anticipation and excitement in the air has Clementine just putting her chin on her hand, observing the love around her.

Her father would’ve loved this.

As if he knows that she’s about to go too deep in her thoughts, Luke pulls on her ponytail. She shoots him a look as she’s swallowing her bite of gnocchi. “What?”

He beams. “Nothing.”

She rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless. Luke will always be her baby, but it’s moments like this when she realizes that he’s growing up so fast. As Quinn laughs at something his dad said and she watches Luke’s eyes drift towards him, she bites her lip. Soon enough, it’ll be Luke in his oldest brother’s shoes seeing what team will draft him.

She blinks as a hand waves in front of her. “Earth to Clee,” Jack says.

“What’s up?”

Jack gives her a hopeful look. “Can I try some of your pasta?”

“Cut me a piece of your steak and then we’ll talk.”

…..

The next few days, Clementine and her mom explore Dallas. Ellen, Jack and Luke join them when they can, Jim comes on the rare time that he doesn’t have meetings and Quinn is just too busy to join at all. Clementine’s surprised Ellen, Jack and Luke are even tagging along with them. But she welcomes it.

Until Jack is nudging her way too close to the edge of the sidewalk and she stumbles. Luke just laughs and both Ellen and Maeve don’t see it because they’re walking up ahead. Assholes.

The day of the draft comes quickly, and her and her mom are staying in the same hotel the Hughes family is. They get ready right after lunch, as Maeve and Clementine take charge of being the communication liaison for the rest of the Hughes family who’s here on this special day to let Ellen and Jim handle what they need to. Ever since the day Ellen introduced Maeve to her family, Maeve’s become one of them. Clementine smiles as she watches Geegs, Ellen’s mom, and her mom hug, opening her own arms happily when it’s her turn.

“Hi Sweetie.”

“Hi Geegs,” she lets the older woman place her hands on her cheeks.

“You look more like your father the older you get. Beautiful.”

Clementine swallows as she reaches up to squeeze her pseudo-grandma’s wrists, before turning to greet the various other family members. Most of them she knows, some she doesn’t. Many she hasn’t seen since she went to college.

She volunteers to wait downstairs for everyone to come while her mom makes a few trips to and from the hotel room where Ellen, Jim, Quinn, Jack and Luke are. Once she’s 99% sure everyone is at the hotel, she makes the trip up to the room herself. In the elevator mirror, she glances at her outfit. A blush pink wrap dress with white heeled sandals. She’s decided to keep her hair down, a hair elastic around her wrist that will no doubt be used the second she steps outside into the Dallas heat. Earrings that Ellen gave her for her 18th birthday are dangling from her ears.

And of course, the three friendship bracelets tied around her left wrist. They don’t match any part of her outfit, but it doesn’t matter. She rubs over them with her right thumb as the elevator door opens.

When she knocks on the door, it’s swung open immediately by one of their many cousins. Emily, who can’t be more than five years old, immediately wraps her arms around Clementine’s legs.

Clementine laughs, maneuvering carefully so that she can shut the door behind her before bending down to fully hug the girl. “Hi Em.”

“Hi Clee!”

“How are you?” Clementine stands back up. “You look so pretty.”

“Thank you,” Emily reaches out to tug at Clementine’s hand and she obliges. “Everyone’s been looking for you.”

“Really?” Clementine asks skeptically as she follows the young girl down the short hallway.

“Well, maybe just me.” They come to a stop and there’s a big call of her name echoed throughout the room. Clementine smiles bashfully. The Hughes extended family has always been nice to her, but this isn’t her day. She eyes the camera out of the corner of her eye and blinks.

Sometimes she forgets that the three boys she calls her brothers have outside attention on them. Which is dumb, because duh. But she forgets they’re not just… Quinny, Jacky and Lukey.

Though today, out of all days, nothing will let her forget. She thinks she’s okay with that.

The sound of Luke calling out her name puts her a bit more at ease. “I was starting to think you got lost.” She rolls her eyes, ignoring him as she gets pulled into hugs.

She eventually stops in front of her mother, who just raises an eyebrow and lowers her voice. “You have the cufflinks?”

She nods, blindly reaching into her purse and feeling around for her small gift for Quinn. “Yeah. I’ll give it to him when he starts getting dressed.”

Jim, who overhears the exchange between mother and daughter, eyes them suspiciously. “Cufflinks? Mae, you already got him-”

“Not from me,” Maeve sings with a mischievous smile. “Technically, this one is all Clem.” Jim rolls his eyes as Clementine smiles innocently, before she gets pulled into a conversation with Lara, one of the aunts.

She notices immediately when Quinn is ducking into the attached bedroom to change and quickly scurries in his direction. She stops in the doorway, watching as Quinn starts unzipping the garment bag that’s holding the suit that Maeve gifted him for this very day. “You have a second?” Clementine says.

Quinn turns around quickly with a small smile. “Of course.” Clementine walks in and reaches into the outside pocket, taking out the small black pouch. Immediately, Quinn is shaking his head. “Clem, no.”

“You don’t even know what it is!”

“I don’t have to. Clem, the fact that you’re here and I’m wearing a suit your mom made me. That’s enough. That’s more than enough.”

Clementine pouts, “It’s never enough. Open it.” With a skeptical look, he carefully takes the pouch for her hands and opens it. He gently lays the cufflinks out on the palm of his hand. They’re silver, a Q and an H written out in cursive on each. “It’s nothing too crazy, but-”

“It’s perfect,” Quinn breathes out. He closes his fest and looks up, pulling Clementine into a very tight hug. “Thank you so much.”

She can feel herself starting to tear up. Dammit. “I’m so…god, I don’t know.”

He pulls away and laughs. “You’re already crying?”

“I’m trying not to,” she whines, watching as he puts the cufflinks back into the pouch and places them on a nearby table. She clears her throat. “I’ll let you get ready.”

She smiles at him one last time before turning around to walk out of the room. “Clem?” He says.

She whips her head back around. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

She swallows and puts a hand up. “Don’t,” she says, trying to keep her voice steady. He laughs and she laughs with him. “I love you too, Quinny. So much.”

He nods and she leaves the room and enters the other bedroom. Immediately, she’s met with Jack. He takes one look at her watery eyes and cackles. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Jack’s eyes widen as he clasps his watch around his wrist. “Little ears!”

“You’re a big boy. You can handle it.” She sits down on the edge of the bed across from him, eyeing his formal attire. Only his blazer is missing. She softens. “You look great.”

Jack beams. “Thanks, Clee! You do too.”

“You think?” She says playfully, smoothing down her dress.

“Yes,” he says genuinely, causing her to look at him. “You look beautiful.”

She just smiles, making grabby hands at him. Jack obliges, collapsing into her for a tight hug that has a tear falling down Clementine’s face. A few other ones slip out as Luke walks in and immediately wraps himself around the two.

The ride to the arena is quick, Maeve in charge of driving her daughter, Aunt Lara, Uncle Rich and Emily. Once they’re parked, Maeve sees a text from Ellen saying that that the Hughes family who were riding on the bus also just got there and asks if she and Clementine can meet them for a second before they all go their separate ways — the Hughes family to their spots and the others to the designed family and friends area on the other side of the arena. Maeve furrows her eyebrows, muttering about what her old friend could possibly want, but obliges.

Clementine hears the crowd before she sees them, knowing that Quinn is somewhere in the thrall. Before Clementine and Maeve can be confused about where they go, they see Ellen waving them over.

“What’s up? Did you forget something?” Maeve asks.

Ellen shakes her head with a smile. Suspicious. “No. Come on. They just opened the doors.”

“What?” Maeve and Clementine ask in unison as they follow Ellen.

“Surprise! You two are sitting with us.”

“El-”

“Nope,” Ellen glares at Maeve. “No arguments. Quinn wanted you both with him when his name gets called, and it’s his day, so what he says goes.”

Clementine snorts. Dirty move pulling that. But she knows Ellen knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Are you sure?” Clementine asks softly.

Ellen pulls her into a side hug as they walk into the building together. “Of course, honey. You’re family. You know that.”

The only three people who are actually in their seats when the three of them go up to their row are Jack, Luke and Geegs, who all just smile and direct them both to their designated seats — Clementine inbetween Jack and Geegs while Maeve is inbetween Ellen and Jim. Maeve sits on the other side of Geegs, the seat momentarily open and Ellen immediately leaves because she’s getting signaled to do media.

Thank god that she doesn’t have to do that, Clementine thinks. She thinks she’d rather die.

Clementina takes her seat and narrows her eyes playfully at Jack and Luke. “You little secret keepers.”

Luke laughs as Jack smirks. “Good to see you again.”

“Yeah,” she breathes out, looking around and taking in her surroundings for the first time. “This is bananas.”

“Pretty cool, isn’t it?” Luke says. And yeah, it is cool. And wonderful. But also scary? And Clementine’s not the one being drafted.

Clementine sees Quinn and the Tkachuk brothers coming up to where they are. She’s only met Brady and Matthew a handful of times, but everytime has been as lovely as the last. Brady is immediately occupied by Jack and Luke so Clementine turns to Matthew, standing up and giving him a quick hug.

“Hey Clementine. Long time no see,” Matthew says into her ear.

Clementine chuckles. “Hi Matty. It’s good to see you.”

“You look beautiful. Most stunning woman in the room.”

She rolls her eyes. Fucking charmer. “The flirting didn’t work when we were 17. It’s not gonna work when we’re 20.”

Matthew pouts playfully. “At least I tried.” He smiles genuinely. “You excited? It’s a big day.”

“Yeah. It’s quite something.” They both look at Quinn and Brady and she nudges Matthew. “Big day for you guys too. I bet your parents are excited.”

“Yeah, they are. I’m sure you’ll see them later. Last I heard you were in college?”

“I am. Just finished my junior year at UCLA. One more to go.”

Matthew whistles. “Damn. You still wanna be a doctor?”

“That’s the plan.”

He shakes his head with a smirk. “Smartest Hughes by far.” She just shoves his shoulder playfully.

“Clem!” Brady interrupts them by corralling her into a hug, causing Matthew to almost fall.

Clementine giggles. “Hey Brady. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Brady beams. Clementine finds him absolutely endearing.

“Whatever team calls your name is lucky to have you.” Brady just keeps smiling and it’s so damn infectious.

Ellen and Jim return and Brady and Matthew take that as a signal that they should head back to their seats. Clementine smiles as the boys all exchange hugs — Quinn and Brady’s lasting longer than all the others — and settles back into her seat. Geegs offers her a bottle of water and Clementine thanks her with a grin.

“I’m nervous,” she mutters to Geegs, so the boys can’t hear and make fun of her.

“Me too, sweetie.” She says, patting her leg in such a grandmotherly way that makes Clementine miss her own. She catches Clementine looking down the row at Jack, Luke and Quinn, in that order and takes her hand to squeeze it. “They’re always gonna need you, you know?”

She whips her head back, Geegs with a light smile on her face. “What do you mean?” Clementine asks.

“It doesn’t matter what team all three of them will eventually get drafted to, they’re always gonna need their big sister.”

Immediately, Clementine shakes her head, trying not to fucking cry at an event that has nothing to do with her. “They’ve been doing just fine on their own.”

“Sweetie.” Geegs just says, looking at her with that look.

And Clementine realizes the last time she saw that look, three years ago, a day before she was on a flight to LA, her father dying nine months prior but it feeling like yesterday. She had broken down in her childhood bedroom in Toronto, where everyone was downstairs about to have a farewell dinner to send her off. Geegs had seen her first before getting Maeve and Ellen, and then the three women were just holding Clementine and letting her cry. She had gone on a ramble about leaving home and going to LA and how she misses her dad and how her brothers are going to be so far away and are gonna forget about her. It was a lot for her at that time and the three most important women in her life helped her through it.

She just leans her head on Geegs’s shoulder, before placing a kiss on her cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you too, sweet girl.”

Geegs is about to say more before Jack starts incessantly tapping on Clementine’s shoulder. She rolls her eyes but catches Geegs’s knowing look before turning. “What?” Jack pouts at the snap in her tone and Clementine sighs. “Oh don’t give me that.”

“Why not? It works everytime.”

“What’s up?”

He just nudges her shoulder. “Just, I don’t know, wanna make sure you’re good.”

Clementine smiles, leaning her head on his shoulder as he rests his arm around the back of her seat. “I’m perfect.”

“You sure?”

She bites her lip. “Yeah. I just, I don’t know, not trying to bring down the mood but, I wish Dad was here, you know? He would’ve loved all this.”

Jack swallows and she feels him lean his head atop of hers. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “I was thinking that this morning, when we were all at the hotel and everything. I wish he was here too.”

She sneaks a look at Quinn, who’s chatting with his mom. “He would’ve been so proud.”

Jack hums. “Love you, Clee.”

It’s the second time she’s heard that from someone in the Hughes family in two minutes, but it still makes her emotional all the same. “Love you too, Jacky.” She breathes out and tries to gather herself. “God, can we get this show on the road? I’m getting antsy.”

Jack snorts. “Already? It’s gonna be a long night for you then.”

She narrows her eyes. “Careful. If you want me to sneak you a sip of alcohol later, you have to be nice to me.”

Jack huffs. “I can’t wait until the day I’m legal. The drinking age being 19 here is ruining my vibe.”

“Got a couple more years until that, buddy.” And then the arena lights start dimming and a tribute for the Humboldt Broncos tragedy starts.

It begins.

When Quinn’s name gets called seventh overall to the Vancouver Canucks, Clementine jumps out of her seat and immediately starts crying as she watches him hug his brothers, before hugging her tightly.

“I’m so proud of you, Q.” She mutters into his shoulder.

“Thanks, Clem.”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” And she lets go to let him hug his grandmother.

Clementine catches Ellen’s gaze right after Quinn hugs his mother and they share a watery smile, as she watches Maeve squeeze Quinn and kiss him on the cheek. As she watches him go down the stairs and give Brady a hug — she cheered extra loud when Ottawa called his name out earlier — she takes a deep shaky breath but laughs when Luke urges her to take Quinn’s seat. She sits down and squeezes Ellen’s hand, before Ellen kisses her on the cheek.

Clementine is so overwhelmed and proud and excited for what’s to come, while also being very emotional about how much hard work it took for Quinn to get here. She’s had a front seat on seeing him grow up and it’s been the most incredible ride.

Later, when they finally all meet up with Quinn again at one of the suites in the arena, she’s about half a vodka cranberry in and just watches all his admirers greet him, the Canucks jersey and hat adorning him nicely. When he finally comes up to her, she beams.

Quinn laughs as he hugs her, “Already starting to drink?”

“It’s a big day,” she says, pulling away to look him up and down. “Holy shit, dude.”

“Careful. I’m mic’ed up.”

She rolls her eyes. “They can bleep that out. I’m so happy for you. How you feeling?”

“Good, good.” That’s all the words they exchange before other family members rightfully step in to offer their congratulations.

She knows it won’t fully sink in until later, probably when he makes his NHL debut. But what a special day that will live in Clementine’s memory forever.

(It’s not until they’re transferring the celebration to a nearby restaurant / bar does Clementine remember. She literally stops in her tracks, and Quinn, who’s walking beside her and was talking about all the media stuff he had to do, looks at her, confused.

“Everything good?” He asks.

Clementine digs into her purse to pull out an envelope. “Yeah. I just almost forgot.”

He takes the envelope, still confused. “What’s this?”

“It’s from Dad.” Quinn blinks at the familiar scribble of his name. “I’ve been keeping it safe this whole time.”

“Fuck, Clem. I-what’s in it?”

She shrugs. “Whatever he wanted to say to you during this moment. I got one when I graduated high school. I’m almost certain your parents probably got theirs today or will eventually from my mom.” She smiles sadly as Quinn sniffs, still staring at the envelope. “Read it later,” she urges softly. “It’ll still be there tomorrow.”

Quinn nods, putting it inside his suit jacket as they continue walking. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.” He pauses for a few seconds before hugging Clementine the tightest he’s hugged her today. “Thank you.”

“I’m just the messenger,” Clementine says, but she hugs him back. “I know he’s so proud of you, wherever he is.”

Quinn just nods into her shoulder and Clementine feels like they’re kids again)

2019 - los angeles, california

you’re the only friend i need

sharing beds like little kids

and laughing till our ribs get tired

but that will never be enough

- “ribs” by lorde

Clementine’s trying to stifle a yawn as the speeches start. At least they got over the majority of the speeches yesterday during all-university commencement.

She knows her mom, Ellen and Jim are in the crowd somewhere, from the selfie she got from them as she was waiting to walk to her seat. Thankfully it’s not that hot out, especially for LA, otherwise she’d be more restless than she already is in her lace white dress. Having a ceremony outside is kinda nice, actually, especially with the wind brushing around her legs.

She walks on the stage, shakes the dean’s hand, gets her diploma and doesn’t faceplant at all, so she takes that as a win. She cheers for her friends when they walk across, and she’s still trying to wrap her head around the fact that four years have gone by so slowly yet so quickly. It’s been filled with great and tough moments, but she’s grateful despite it all.

They throw their hats up and she embraces her friends, thinking about how they’re all gonna be spread out around the country in just a few months. Clementine’s staying in California, at least, heading to Stanford for medical school in the fall, but it’ll be so different.

But that’s the beauty of it all, right?

After exchanging a few texts with her mom to establish a meeting place, she briskly walks over to the area, eager to see her family. But she stops in her tracks when she sees Quinn, Jack and Luke.

They’re not supposed to be here. She blinks, wondering if she’s imagining it. But she hears Luke scream her name and it’s real. All in various colors of a button up and slacks and they’re fucking here.

“Oh my god,” she says to herself before running over — as fast as she can in these heels — and absolutely crashing into Luke. Her cap falls off but she can’t even care. Jack’s next and hearing his laugh so close to her ear makes her fully start sobbing. By the time Quinn is swaying her side to side and handing her a huge bouquet of flowers “from all three of us,” she’s afraid her eyeliner is ruined.

She quickly hugs her mom, Ellen and Jim, accepting two more smaller bouquets and turns back to the boys. “You guys are not-how are you here?”

“This was the plan all along,” Quinn laughs. “Come on, Clem. We weren’t gonna miss this.”

“B-but you’re supposed to be, I don’t know, somewhere! Jack, you’re supposed to be doing whatever the hell people do a week before their draft. And Luke, I swear you told me you had a tournament.”

Everyone’s laughing at her disbelief. “Just a few white lies here and there,” Jack says with a proud smile. “Quinn’s right. We wouldn’t miss this.”

“Congratulations, Clemmy!” Luke beams and Clementine wants to squeeze his fucking cheeks. “You didn’t trip walking across the stage.”

“And isn’t that a relief,” Jim jokes.

Clementines points at the parents in mock accusation after adjusting her hold on all the flowers and her diploma. “You guys knew about this all along, didn’t you?”

“Of course we did,” Maeve rolls her eyes with a grin. “They’ve been planning this for months. Jack literally said he wouldn’t go to Worlds if it was at the same time as your graduation.”

She whacks him lightly across the back of his head with her diploma. “Stupid.”

“Hey!” Jack whines, rubbing the back of his head.

“Okay, pictures! Before Clem completely cries her makeup off.” Ellen exclaims as they all laugh. Pictures take way too long but Clementine can’t even complain, even when Jack blows raspberries on her and she wants to strangle him.

As they all walk around campus, Clementine giving an unofficial tour, she points out her old residences, where she used to study, where she’s cried, where she’s laughed. This campus means so much to her and houses so many memories that they’re not a part of. She also gets updates since the last time she saw them over her brief winter break. Luke officially committed to the NTDP, Quinn made his debut with the Canucks that she’s still upset she couldn’t make it for, both Quinn and Jack went to the World Championships, not to mention that Jack’s draft is literally in a week.

They’re so interested in hearing about her last semester of college and congratulate her officially on Stanford even though Clementine thinks that’s nothing compared to what they’re accomplishing. She voices that, and Quinn immediately gives her a disapproving look that is kinda funny coming from someone younger than her and Luke rolls his eyes with the bold sass of a 15 year old.

Maybe that’s a good thing, Clementine thinks as Jack starts saying how he always talks to his friends about how his “smart, cool older sister” is gonna be a doctor and go to one of the top schools in the country. They all have their talents and they see each other’s accomplishments as the coolest thing in the world.

She knows not everyone has that kind of support system. She is so blessed that she does, especially today.

She’s surprised even more when she’s told her mom booked a reservation for one of her favorite farm to table places nearby for dinner, and she indulges herself with two glasses of wine, turning a blind eye when Quinn sneaks a sip. She glares when Luke tries though. Quinn’s at least closer to legal age.

As she gets healthily tipsy, giggling at every single thing being said and Quinn subtly filling up her glass of water, a tear slips out again. Luckily, no one notices because she wipes it away very quickly.

Everything’s moving so fast. She wishes it would slow down.

2019 - vancouver, british columbia

slow down, you’re doing fine

you can’t be everything you wanna be before your time

although it’s so romantic on the borderline tonight

- “vienna” by billy joel

Clementine likes to think she’s more prepared this time around. But deep down, she asks herself if she really is.

The vibe leading up to this draft compared to last year has been a bit different. While there was a good amount of focus on Quinn last year, it’s ramped so much higher this time around for Jack. She’s heard all about the hype. The draft of the Americans. The draft where Jack’s projected to go first.

And she really applauds Jack for handling it as well as he has. Clementine turns 22 in two weeks and she doesn’t think she could be as collected as Jack is at 18. But then again, all three brothers have been preparing for something like this their whole lives.

Her and her mother are sitting with the family again with the draftees and this time it’s not a surprise. Maeve once again bought Jack’s suit and Clementine gifted him a watch this morning, and also gave him the letter from Miguel because she vowed to herself that she wouldn’t almost forget like she did for Quinn’s. Jack had just given her the longest hug.

Jack’s been smiles all morning, confidence radiating off his skin. Clementine knows that most of that is genuine — Jack has always worn his fearlessness the most outwardly compared to his brothers. So when he says he isn’t nervous, she believes him.

At least this time she has a clearer idea of where Jack will be. It’s either going to be New Jersey or New York. She, and everyone in the hockey world, would be shocked if he ended up in Chicago.

New Jersey would be extra special. Her dad grew up there. So she hopes all the prediction articles she’s read are correct.

So now here they are. A different country and arena this time around. She’s sitting next to Luke and Geegs and there’s a lot more media that’s paying attention to them. Like right now, where it’s only her and Geegs at their seats because the entire Hughes family is doing media. Being on the bus with them this time around instead of driving to the arena herself, Clementine got more of a look into the behind the scenes stuff before the draft starts. She watched with pride as Jack walked down the carpet, signing autographs and probably charming every single person out there.

As she walked into Rogers Arena, she got more nervous, smoothing down her olive green dress with her sweaty palms. She’s wearing the same white sandals she wore last year because of some sentimental thought she had in her head while figuring out her outfit. Friendship bracelets are on, hair is fully up this time in a high curled ponytail and her head’s all over the place.

But she also is distracted as Jack has wanted to introduce her to everyone. She’s met a lot of the kids in the program at least once, but it’s been awhile and it feels like she’s meeting them again. Everyone except for Alex, who has crashed some of Jack’s FaceTimes with her since he’s lived with the Hughes’ the last two years. Because of that, she’s inadvertently adopted him as another younger brother of sorts. Cole has the widest smile on his face and Clementine just wants to put him in her pocket. Trevor’s laugh is so contagious that Clementine understands why Jack always says him and Trevor are almost the same person.

As she watches all of them together, she feels sad that she’s had to miss out on stuff like this, watching her younger brothers find their friends and their way and her only appearing in the stories the boys tell but not actually being in the stories. But what can she do? She chose to go to California for school. She’s choosing to stay in California for school. All with their full support and encouragement.

That doesn’t mean she can’t be sad that she’s missing things back home. Wherever that is.

She snaps herself out of it though, those pangs of sadness she’s felt throughout the morning. It’s not fair on her emotions that she literally just packed her own stuff up from UCLA a week ago and now is here for one of Jack’s biggest moments. He’s so excited. She doesn’t want to cloud that.

Jack’s ability to be so happy and excited is one of the best things about him.

Once everyone’s back to their seats, she’s bouncing her leg. Without looking, Quinn just puts a hand on her thigh to calm her down and she wonders for the 100th time in the last week when the fuck he got so observant and mature.

(He always has been. Clementine’s just in a state of constant denial lately.)

Jack gets picked first overall to the New Jersey Devils and Clementine, to no one’s surprise, starts crying.

“Let’s go, baby!” He practically screams into her ear as he hugs her.

She laughs through her tears. “Congrats, Jacky. Love you.”

“Love you more, Clee.”

Jack walks down and makes his way onto the stage and Clementine is having the most intense case of deja vu in her life. Maeve hands her a tissue and she knows that some camera is capturing her wiping her eyes carefully. Hopefully the camera captures her whacking Quinn as he makes fun of her as well. She puts her hands over her heart watching Jack shake Gary Bettman’s hand. She can feel her dad’s love and happiness as if he’s here.

And maybe he is, even if not physically. He’s here somewhere.

(Hearing “Coming Home” by Diddy - Dirty Money and Skylar Grey playing as Jack walked down had Clementine wanting to slam her head through a wall. She knows Jack probably didn’t put too much thought into the song, but as she hears Skylar’s voice crooning on about letting the rain wash the pain away and coming home and forgiving mistakes, what else is she supposed to feel?)

She watches one by one as Jack’s friends get drafted with a big smile while enjoying the quiet commentary that Jim is offering. She’s still trying to wrap her head around the fact that Jack will probably be playing in the NHL this year and she still clearly remembers him hiding her shoes when they were younger.

Clementine laughs as Jack launches himself at her when she sees him later, laughs even more when he and his buddies are being stupid and so boy-like that it makes her heart ache. At some point, someone has control of the aux and “The Spins” by Mac Miller starts playing and Clementine feels fond. Quinn appears beside her and she leans into him.

“Is this how you feel all the time when you see us?” He asks.

She breathes out. “Yup.”

“I don’t know how you do it.”

“Me neither, Q.”

He chuckles. “The curse of being an older sibling.”

“You have no fucking idea.”

“The first thought I had when his name was called was that Miguel would’ve screamed.”

She snorts. “Probably true. I gave Jack his letter this morning.”

“I know. I accidentally walked in just as he was finishing reading it.” He pauses suddenly. “Will you come watch when I come to play the Sharks?”

She looks over at the vulnerable look in his eyes. “Of course.” She realizes then where Quinn’s fears are going. Michigan is only an hour and a half away from Jersey by plane, while Vancouver is four hours away by plane. She’s gonna be the closest to him out of the seven of them. “Of course I will, Quinn. Always.”

“Thanks,” Quinn replies, voice a bit rough. She just presses a kiss to his cheek.

…..

The next morning, Clementine’s woken up by a knock on the door. She groans, but the knocks keep happening so she kicks herself off the bed, throws on a UCLA sweatshirt over herself and opens the door. Jack’s standing at the doorway, hair all over the place and t-shirt and shorts wrinkly.

“What the fuck, Jack?” She asks bluntly.

“Sorry.” At least he looks apologetic. “Shit, sorry. I’m just a bit restless.”

“Get in. Quietly. We can talk on the balcony.” Jack gives her a thankful smile as he follows her into the room. They tiptoe past so that Maeve doesn’t wake up, Clementine grabbing her phone along the way.

She groans as he closes the balcony door and she sinks down into one of the seats. “Jack, it’s 8 in the goddamn morning. Did you not see Ellen and I knocking back shots yesterday?”

Jack snorts. “Who didn’t? I’m pretty sure at least 10 people were filming.”

“What can I say? Your family and friends think I’m entertaining.” She yawns. “What’s up, superstar? What’s got your mind racing at this ungodly hour?”

He shrugs and Clementine wants to roll her eyes. But her semi-awake brain reminds her that this is how all three of them, but especially Jack, has always been. When there’s something bothering him, she always gives him time and lets him come to her.

A few minutes of silence, before:

“I’m not in over my head, right?”

“About?”

“Everything.”

Clementine blinks. Frankly, she’s too tired and hungover to be a big sister right now. But she’ll try her best. “Jack Rowden Hughes. Don’t tell me you were just drafted number one in the National Hockey League, which is something that had been predicted for at least two years now, and are telling me you’re in over your head.”

He flinches. “Don’t full name me. It’s too early for that.”

She kicks him in the ribs. “You’re a good player, Jack. Which is honestly probably an understatement. I’ve seen you play since you were literally a child. It’s almost freaky how good you are.”

“But you have to say that.”

“I don’t have to say anything,” Clementine says. “I don’t have the time and energy to be bullshitting people anymore, especially you.”

Jack looks down at his hands. “I guess the expectations have always been there, especially recently. But it’s so much more now and that’s kinda scary, Clee.”

“Everything new is always gonna be scary,” Clementine says softly, the breeze waving with her words. “Always. I don’t care how ready for it you’ve been. I’ve been wanting to be a doctor since I was 16. You think I’m not scared to go to Stanford in the fall?”

He furrows his eyebrows. “B-but you’re so smart. You’re gonna be fine.”

“And you’re so talented. So you’re gonna be fine.” She says pointedly. “Realistically, no one can predict the future. Of course I hope that you and Quinn have a great rookie year and a long, successful career ahead of you. Same with Lukey when it’s his turn. But inevitably, there’s gonna be hard moments. That’s just life. You and I both know that. Hell, we’ve been through that together. Will people talk shit about your hard moments more than mine? Yeah, unfortunately, which I hate and wish I could change. But those people, you need to remember, don’t know you. The people who do know you and who love you whether you have skates on your feet or not? Those are the people you should be listening to. And we all love you and are so, so proud of you, Jacky.”

He scooches his chair over and leans his head on her shoulder. “How do you always know what to say?”

“I think I’ve known you all long enough just to know what to say so that you’ll listen to me.” She plays with his hair, staring out into the harbor the hotel borders. “You got all the time in the world to be who you want to be, Jack. And maybe sometimes that requires being in your head a bit. But you’ll come out okay in the end. You always have.”

She swears she feels a few of his tears drip onto her shirt. “I love you, Clee. I know I say it a lot but I mean it everytime.”

“I know you do.”

“I cried when you got your diploma last week.”

“I know. Luke told me.”

“Traitor,” he says with no heat. He throws his legs over her lap and tucks himself into her. “I-I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she parrots back.

He looks up at her from where he’s tucked his head under her chin and Clementine smiles sadly. He looks so young when he does that. He pouts. “You look sad.”

“I’m not sad.”

He gives her a look. “Clementine Ana Sandoval.”

“Hey. You can’t do that,” she protests weakly. He waits. “I’m not sad, really. It’s just been an emotional week. In a happy way.”

“You can still be emotional in a happy way and be sad.”

She smiles. “I guess you’re right.” She kisses the top of his head. “I am so proud of you, Jack. Truly. I love you so much.”

“I love you the most, Clee. I’m serious.”

She looks at him with a smile, because she knows there’s just no way. He smiles back brightly in the morning light.

His lips quiver and she frowns. “We’re gonna be so far apart now.” He whispers.

“We haven’t lived close to each other in awhile.”

“But it’s gonna be even farther.”

“Like I told Quinn, whenever you come play at San Jose, I’ll be there. I promise.”

“And what if I need you other times?”

“When have you called me and I haven’t picked up? Or haven’t called back within the hour?” Silence from him, because he knows she has a point. “Doesn’t matter how far apart we are. I’ll always be there for you.”

He nods, once to indicate that he heard, twice to inject those words into his veins. He kisses her cheek and she bites her lip. She’ll always love him.

(They end up dozing off. Maeve wakes up and is very confused when she looks to see her daughter’s empty bed. Her gaze shifts to the balcony beyond the glass door and she smiles, watching Clementine and Jack’s chests fall and rise in sync.

Maeve snaps a picture and sends it to Ellen, before getting out of bed to shower. She’ll give them some more time to rest.)

2021 - canton, michigan

laugh until we think we’ll die

barefoot on a summer night

never could be sweeter than with you

- “home” by edward sharpe & the magnetic zeros

The second her mom pulls into the Hughes’s driveway after 13 hours of being in the car, Clementine immediately runs to Ellen, who’s standing by the doorway waiting to greet them.

She breathes in Ellen’s familiar citrus perfume and melts into her arms. A year and a half into the pandemic has felt like 30 years, and Clementine just feels lucky that she can be here. She steps aside to let Maeve and Ellen embrace, getting the luggage from the car.

“Where are Jimmy and the boys?” Maeve asks as they all gather in the kitchen and Ellen starts reheating some lasagna.

“Playing golf. They’ll be back soon.”

All three of them are collectively a bottle of white wine in deep when they hear a call pull into the driveway. Clementine can hear the moment the boys see the Massachusetts license plate because she hears Luke scream “Maeve and Clemmy are here!” and three car doors slamming before they barrel into the house.

Clementine just waves her fingers and giggles. Quinn reaches her first, hugging her and lifting her off the stool as she laughs into his neck. Luke’s next — has he grown even more? — and she places three consecutive kisses on his cheek. Jack’s smile is as bright as ever and she threads one hand in his hair as he spins her around.

Then finally, Jim, who’s been patiently waiting his turn. When she hugs him, she turns her cheek so that it’s against his chest. He places a fatherly kiss in her hair and she feels like a little girl again.

In her wine drunk stage, she happily listens to the boys babble on about whatever, Maeve chiming in from time to time with stories about what it’s like trying to teach ten year olds over Zoom. At one point, Jack spits out a mouthful of beer and Quinn’s grimacing while Clementine grabs a paper towel without missing a beat in her retelling of how she should’ve gotten an A on a final paper she submitted last semester.

(Jack had rolled his eyes, muttering “fucking overachiever” under his breath which Clementine glared at him for. Mr. Number One Pick shouldn’t be talking)

It sucks that Luke won’t be able to get the same draft experience his brothers did, but in a way, it’s a wonderful compromise. He gets to be at home surrounded by his family and friends. Sure, media is still somehow finding their way in because it’s the draft and because he’s a Hughes but it won’t be nearly as much as it has been before.

Clementine finds a bit of comfort in knowing that Luke won’t immediately jump into the NHL like Jack did. Not that she doesn’t want him to. She wants them to get everything they want in life. But Luke is her baby. He’s perpetually eight years old in her mind.

And this isn’t the time to dwell on this, but Jack’s rookie year was so tough on him. She’ll never forget getting a call at 2 am his time, absolutely hyperventilating over the phone. After that, she demanded he call her once every week for at least two months after. Luckily, Quinn had a great rookie year and Jack’s second year was better, but goodness, she needs a bit more time to prepare before she starts getting middle of the night calls from three Hughes brothers involving a world she’s still learning about day by day.

The next week is relaxing and lovely, Clementine having nothing to do for the first time in awhile having taken two weeks off from her summer job at Boston Children’s for this. She lets herself sleep in, takes naps in the backyard and on the boat, moves around slowly in the kitchen to help prepare dinner and cherishes the sounds of Quinn, Jack and Luke’s laughter echoing through the house.

…..

The night before the draft, Clementine feels a bit restless. She tosses aside her blanket and tiptoes downstairs in a Michigan sweatshirt that she’s stolen at some point this week. Wiping her eyes, she quietly opens cabinets and pokes through the pantry, concluding that the Hughes household has all the ingredients she needs to make brown sugar cookies. Luckily, sound doesn’t travel much in this house, she’s learned. Clementine starts to get to work.

By the time she’s waiting for the oven to finish preheating so she can put cookies into the oven, she hears footsteps coming down the stairs. She’s about to open her mouth to apologize but snaps it shut when she sees Quinn, all cozied up in a black t-shirt and gray sweats, hair absolutely all over the place.

He blinks. “Why are you awake?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Quinn scans over the three trays of cookies waiting to go in. “Didn’t both our moms bake a gigantic cake today?”

“Yup.”

He hums. The oven beeps and before she can react, he slides the trays in. As he shuts the oven door, Clementine pours him a glass of water as she sets a timer on her phone.

“Why are you awake at this hour, Quinny?”

Quinn shrugs. “I was up to use the bathroom. Thought I heard something downstairs and wanted to check it out.”

She yawns. “Yeah, sorry.”

“I didn’t know you baked.”

“Newer habit. One of my roommates, Allie, you’ve met Allie over FaceTime, she’s a stress baker. Whenever exam season hit, there were baked goods all over our apartment. Picked up on a thing or two.”

Quinn hums. “What’s Allie up to this summer?”

“She just started her residency in Florida.”

“So she graduated?”

“Yup. Now I’m all alone.” Quinn rolls his eyes because he knows that’s not true. It isn’t. Clementine still has two other roommates as they continue looking for a third.

“I still can’t believe you had time to do med school applications as well as a full course load,” Quinn says. “Like, I know you said that’s kinda normal. But how did you have the time?”

Clementine snickers. “I’m not sure how I did. Pure rage and fumes? ”

“I mean, you’re superwoman. You always have been. But damn. There are really no breaks for you, eh?”

“Coming here is a break.”

“Good,” she ruffles his hair. Quinn sighs. “Can’t believe it’s finally little Lukey’s turn.”

“Yeah. I’ve been having a crisis about it all summer. Makes me feel old.”

“You’re only 24?”

“Exactly,” she deadpans. “Old.”

Quinn rolls his eyes. They both look up as someone else comes down the stairs. Alex, who came in just a few hours ago, rubs his eyes with his fists. “What the fuck are you two doing up awake?”

“Clem’s making cookies.”

Alex blinks. “And you are?”

“Keeping her company.”

Alex just shrugs before sitting down across from her. He nods in thanks when Clementine fills up a glass of water for him. “Haven’t really gotten the chance to catch up with you. How’s Stanford?”

Clementine snickers. “Good. Well, as good as it can be in a pandemic. School’s school. First two years were mostly by the textbooks. Next two will be textbooks and clinicals so I’ll be in the hospital. Hopefully.”

“Clinicals?”

“Like, actually working with patients. Or like, observing in the hospital with a supervisor. The good stuff.”

“Sounds smart,” Alex hums. “How do you feel that all your babies will have been drafted 24 hours from now?”

Fucking asshole. She doesn’t know why Ellen has a soft spot towards Alex when he’s clearly a nuisance. He just laughs at her pout and Quinn shakes his head with a close-lipped smile. “Don’t get her started. It’s 1 a.m.”

Her eyes roll so hard they might as well fall out of her head. “Don’t you have siblings?” He nods. “Are they younger or older?”

“Older. I’m the youngest.”

She huffs and Quinn grins. “That makes sense,” she says. “You don’t get it.”

Alex gets up and pulls Clementine into a quick side hug as he gets more water. “I only got to hear about how you were crying when Quinn and Jack got called. Now I’ll get to see for myself.”

“Careful,” she says wearily. Careful of what, she doesn’t know, but she needs to instill some sort of dominance as the oldest here. Quinn snickers into his sweatshirt.

Her timer beeps a few minutes later and she shuts it off. Quinn ushers her aside while he grabs the trays and sets them on the counter to cool while Clementine digs around for a large tupperware container to store them. Alex just stares at them hungrily and she can’t even be annoyed. She sees that look in all the Hughes brothers’ eyes all the time in the kitchen. And Alex might as well be a Hughes.

Once they each finish a cookie, Clementine shoos them both upstairs as she follows behind them to try and go back to sleep. Tomorrow’s a big day.

…..

The next morning comes quickly. She’s sharing a room and bed with her mother but she’s nowhere to be found. Instead, Clementine gets woken up by Jack jumping on her bed. Thankfully, he avoids anything that could really hurt her, but she still grunts, whacking him in the stomach and shooing him out of the room before beginning to get ready. She can already hear various family and friends coming through the front door downstairs.

She gets dressed in a cream romper she found on sale a month ago and pulls out, of course, the white sandals. She rummages through her backpack to find the letter — the final one she’s in charge of — and quickly debates on when she’ll give it to Luke.

Now, she decides, putting it on the bedside table. Before the cameras turn on. She slips her phone into the pockets of her romper — she’s pumped they even have pockets — and walks down the stairs. Immediately at the front door, she’s met with Emily. She’s nine now and Clementine just goes on her knees and holds her tightly. Clementine then quickly runs into Ellen, who wants to introduce her to some people — some she’s met a handful of times, some she hasn’t met once.

It’s lovely, in a way, knowing that while their lives are so intertwined, there’s always someone new to meet or someone to reunite with. The support system for all of them is so much larger than she could’ve ever dreamed of, as she grins when Sophia, who she last saw at Quinn’s draft, hugs her tight like they just saw each other yesterday. She’s in her second year at Michigan on the lacrosse team and so smiley and lovely.

Once she spots Luke, she taps his shoulder and he excuses himself from talking to one of Jim’s old friends. Luke’s constant smile this whole week has been small but genuine. As his eyes drift down to the envelope in her hands, she sees him swallow.

Clementine hands it over and claps a hand on his shoulder. “Later, yeah? When you have a minute.”

Luke just nods expectantly. Like almost everything in life, his brothers have gotten their letters before him. If Clementine sometimes thinks too much about it, it makes her almost sad that Luke’s always had someone do something before him, whether it’s her or Quinn and Jack. But it’s also a blessing, in a way, she thinks, because in her eyes, Luke is the best out of all of them in pretty much every single way possible because he’s seen how the older three have messed up and can take from that. She knows Quinn and Jack agree.

“Thanks for being here.”

“Of course.” She pulls him into a hug and breathes in. “Is that the cologne I gave you yesterday?”

“Yeah.”

“Cute.” Clementine gives him one last squeeze before pulling away. The house is filling up more and more and she knows her time is limited. “If I don’t catch you before, just remember that I love you, okay? And I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Clemmy.”

“I’ll look at the schedule soon and try to come down to see a game when I can.”

His eyes light up. “Really?”

“Duh. I gotta put all this Michigan merch I have to some use.”

Luke shrugs. “I don’t know-I just figured, you saw Quinn at Michigan and you’ve seen Quinn and Jack in the show. Why would you come to see something you’ve already seen, you know?”

“Because it’s you, Lukey.” She squeezes his arm. “You’re always going to be my baby brother.”

She feels him relax as he folds himself into her arms again.

The day passes by in a blur as Clementine is enjoying catching up with everyone. And there’s a feeling of gratitude in that everyone can gather with each other again after so much isolation in different parts of the continent for so long. She sees Josh for the first time in literal years and happily spends time catching up with him.

For most of the day, she forgets that it’s draft day. She’s just bouncing around, sipping casually on her cider and snacking. The cookies she made the night before are gone very quickly, which makes her laugh to herself.

Once Luke disappears upstairs to get dressed, she finds herself leaning against a doorway, staring out into the living room that’s filled with people but not really looking at anything.

“You okay?”

She turns to see her mom, pearl earrings matching her deep red blouse. Clementine grins. “Yeah. Just zoned out for a minute.”

Maeve lets out a heavy breath. “Last one.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s weird. I always knew he’d get here. All of them. But then it happens. And you think you’re prepared, but you’re not.” Clementine perks up. Her mom doesn’t often get into these types of moods, always the fun-loving, energetic woman. Her dad was more the outwardly perceptive one. Maeve just continues with a small smile. “From the most adorable little boys to incredible young men.”

Clementine laughs. “They’ll always be little to me.”

“Take how you feel and multiply that by three hundred and that’s where I’m at as I’ve seen all of you together this week,” Maeve says with a snort. She hooks her chin on Clementine’s shoulder. “Love you, Clementine.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

Soon enough, everyone’s gathered in front of the TV, with a few cameras around and someone on standby who’s gonna do an interview right when Luke’s name gets called. On the couch and chairs at the front, from right to left, are Geegs, Ellen, Quinn, Luke, Jack and Jim. Her and Maeve are standing right behind Jim and Alex and Josh are next to Clementine.

This time, it could be Anaheim or Columbus or Detroit. Maybe San Jose.

Or it could be New Jersey.

She knows Jack has been pretty outwardly casual about it — he knows nothing, he’s just hoping. But she knows Jack. He wants his younger brother with him. And it would be lovely for those two to play on the same team. What are the odds?

(Apparently, pretty good.)

Luke gets drafted to New Jersey fourth overall. The whole house explodes with cheers. She’s never seen Jack so excited. Maeve puts her hands on Jim’s shoulders as Luke is hugging Quinn and Jim turns around, eyes wet. That’s what sets Clementine off crying. When it’s her turn to get a hug from Luke, she rises to her tiptoes and throws her arms around his neck.

“Congrats, Lukey. Proud of you.”

“Thanks, Clemmy. I love you.”

She smacks a kiss on his cheek. “I love you too.” Luke then hugs Maeve, Alex and Josh before continuing down the line.

From there, there’s media to be down and they quickly set up. Most of the family stays in the room as the three boys adjust themselves on the couch, ready to answer some questions. After Geegs gives her a big hug and Luke throws on Jack’s Devils jersey, Clementine bites her lip and suddenly spins on her heel, feeling overwhelmed.

Alex notices, furrowing his eyebrows as he lightly grabs her arm. “You okay?”

Clementine nods with a smile. “Yeah. I’m just gonna get some air.”

Alex just nods. “Okay,” he squeezes her shoulder in a side hug. “Don’t be too long or we’ll all come looking for you.”

“I won’t,” she promises, before quietly slipping out the screen door in the backyard.

She takes a deep breath, wiping her eyes and deciding to take a little walk around the block. She stares out at the sky, currently painted in hues of pink and purple as the sun is starting to set. Michigan is beautiful. She can understand why they all love it. She fiddles with the three friendship bracelets and her vision blurs as she starts lightly crying again.

It’s been a long time coming. All of this always has. But like her mom said, it doesn’t mean she’s ready for it.

After a nice walk, Clementine sits down on the swing in the front yard. She can hear the commotion happening inside the house and in the backyard, but she’s not quite ready to go back in yet. She watches the sun continue setting, thankful that it’s just windy and cool enough to not have the mosquitos attacking her.

Quinn’s in Vancouver. Jack’s in New Jersey. Both of them are looking to stay long term. Luke will be going to Michigan for at least a year. If Clementine’s inkling is right, it’ll be two, just like Quinn did. And then Luke will be in New Jersey. She’s in California for two more years. And then who knows where for residency afterwards. Ellen and Jim are mainly based in Michigan and her mom’s out in Massachusetts.

Will they ever all live close enough to each other again? Will there ever be more than just the holidays, which started already looking different ages ago when the boys started having tournaments at that time of the year? Will there ever be a time where they’re all able to be together for more than two — maybe three if they’re lucky — times a year?

She’s accepted by now that no, they probably will never live near each other again or see each other more than they currently do. But she can hope, right?

Because she’s made a home for herself in a few places now. Massachusetts, where Mom is. California, where she’s been for six years, She hasn’t lived in Toronto for six years now, but that will always be home too.

But home, Clementine realizes, as she hears Quinn’s contagious laughter filter from the house, is this. Home is Quinn’s subtle loyalty and kindness that knows no bounds. Home is Jack’s contagious vivacity and love that envelopes every room. Home is Luke’s steadfast resilience and empathy that pulls everyone in. Home is Ellen’s warm hugs and Jim’s proud eyes. Home is her own mother’s…everything.

Home is the way her father lives in all their memories, even six years after he’s gone. All the people he loved the most. That’s home.

The front door opens. She looks up as Luke walks out and immediately smiles. He looks good in Devils red. “Hey.”

He grins. “Hi. I was looking for you.”

“Just needed some air. Are you done with media and interviews?”

“Yeah,” he slides in next to her. She watches his handle fiddle with the envelope, “Luke” written unmistakingly in Miguel’s handwriting. “I wanted to read this with you.”

Clementine shakes her head. “Nope. I was given very specific instructions. Your-”

“Eyes only,” Luke finishes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. But could you stay here while I read it to myself?”

She softens with a smile. “Of course I can.”

She watches as his shaky hands carefully tear open the envelope, biting her lip as he unfolds the paper. She then purposely looks away as Luke leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes scanning the words. She places a hand on his back, rubbing small circles to let him know that she’s here. Once she hears the sound of him folding the paper, she turns to look at him. His lips are quivering and she corrals him into a hug.

“I wish he was here,” Luke chokes out through tears and Clementine tilts her chin up to the sky to try to hold back her own. “I miss him so much, Clemmy.”

“Me too, Lukey,” she whispers, letting him place his head on her lap. “Me too.”

“It’s so unfair how little time we had with him,” he says and well, Clementine’s fully crying again because yeah, she was 17 when her dad died. But Luke was 11. Not even a teenager. “All I could really think of when I got picked was that Miguel’s from Jersey.”

Clementine smiles. “Yeah.”

“Kinda feels like fate, maybe?”

“Fate sounds good,” she says softly, stroking his cheek with her thumb as she smiles at him. “I really like the sound of that, actually.”

There are footsteps coming closer and Clementine turns behind her to see Quinn with Jack behind him. She gives them a bittersweet smile and nods at them to come sit. Quinn slides in next to her and Jack sits on the other side of Luke.

“You okay, Moose?” Quinn asks softly.

“Yeah,” Luke says in a scratchy voice. “I’ll come back in in a few minutes.”

“Take your time,” Jack says, exchanging a look with Clementine as she starts playing with Luke’s hair. “No rush.”

“Did all your letters make you feel like this?” Luke asks.

“Yup.” Jack snorts.

“Yeah.” Quinn sighs. “It still does.”

“I had to reapply my mascara before my grad party,” Clementine says lightly. All four of them chuckle. She swallows, “I love you guys. So much.”

Quinn kisses her on the cheek as Jack reaches out behind Luke to squeeze her shoulder. “We love you more, Clem.” Quinn mutters.

They stay out on the swing for a little while, just the four of them. Only when the sun sets do they make their way to the backyard to rejoin everyone. Before he gets pulled away again, Clementine holds Luke one last time.

bonus - 2028 - new york city, new york

ya no quiero que llores

the universe is gonna give you muchas flores

quitate ese miedo

you’ll be a lot more, trust me, yo te entiendo

- “a letter to my younger self” ambar lucid

Clementine really didn’t need everyone to be here. It’s only a lunch after all.

But “it’s not like we have anything going on anyways,” Quinn had said, the lunch NYU is throwing to mark the end of people’s residencies taking place at the end of June during the off season. So when NYU said she could bring up to eight guests, she didn’t really have a solid argument.

And here they are now, sitting in a small but beautifully decorated ballroom. Clementine’s wearing a dark purple jumpsuit as she looks around the table. Nico’s to her right, talking happily with Jim on his other side. Then it’s Jack, then Luke, then Quinn, then Ellen and then finally her own mother on Clementine’s left. They’re all dressed up a bit, the guys in button ups and Ellen and Maeve with nice blouses on. It makes Clementine smile.

It’s really not a formal thing. But she’s grateful to have them all here anyways.

“Okay, real talk.” Jack says across the table, grabbing Clementine’s attention. “Your attending physician who stopped by earlier? I would hit.”

Maeve snorts. Ellen sighs and just says his name in disappointment. Jim takes a sip of his beer trying to hide a smile. Quinn and Luke roll their eyes and Nico scoffs.

“Really?” Clementine says dryly.

Jack, like the menace he is, just smirks. “Absolutely. I mean, I know you’re engaged or whatever, but if you weren’t…”

“The person she’s engaged to is right here,” Nico says as Jack cackles.

Clementine rolls her eyes. “Well, Dr. Butterfield is happily married with kids. Sorry to burst your bubble. Though I’m sure Amelie would also not be thrilled.”

Jack waves her off at the mention of his girlfriend. “Amelie would probably agree with me.”

“I don’t know how Amelie deals with you,” Nico shoots back.

“Settle down,” Clementine says in a monotone voice. Even after so many years, Nico and Jack love finding anything to bicker about off the ice. “Let me eat my pasta in peace.”

“Better listen to Clem, boys,” Jim chuckles. “It’s her day.”

“It’s her month,” Luke clarifies, elbowing Jack. “Are you trying to get uninvited to her wedding?”

“Clee would never!” Jack exclaims. Which is true, but Clementine’s glad Luke is backing her up.

“Nico would,” Nico grumbles. Good thing they’re not seated next to each other right now or she’s sure Jack would be smacking him. Which is hilarious, considering Jack is one of Nico’s groomsmen.

Five years. Five years since she walked into Langone for the first time. Five years since she moved into Hoboken with Jack and Luke. She may not live with them anymore, but sometimes, with the amount they’re over her and Nico’s house, it feels like she still does.

Five years of great moments and really, really tough ones. Five years of highlighters in her mouth, pencils twisted in a bun atop of her head, dark under-eye circles after overnight shifts, delirious conversations with her fellow residents and so, so much coffee. And before that, eight years of school, sometimes forgetting what it was all for. But here she is.

Doctor Clementine Sandoval has a nice ring to it.

She’s brought out of her own world when she feels Nico squeeze her thigh lightly. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

“You zoned out again.”

She hums lightly. Nico always knows when to bring her back to the present. “Thanks.” He just kisses her temple.

Along with eighteen other new doctors, Clementine’s called up on the stage to receive her certificate. Dr. Butterfield says a few words about her in front of everyone that she thinks are far too kind and she can’t help but laugh when she hears her whole table cheering as her picture’s being taken.

“You have a lot of loud supporters,” Dr. Butterfield jokes as he shakes her hand.

She snickers. “You have no idea.”

“They seem lovely. Keep them close.”

“They are. I will.”

“Enjoy your time off. You deserve it. We’ll see you back at NYU in September.”

Clementine beams. “Thanks Doc. I’m looking forward to it.”

After lunch is over, they go outside and take pictures right by Battery Park, where the lunch was held. Unlike the three brothers, she doesn't complain about the amount of pictures Ellen, Jim and Maeve want to take, just grinning and laughing as Nico pokes her side. They split up to drive back to Nico and Clementine’s in Jersey — Ellen, Jim and Maeve in one car and her, Nico, Quinn, Jack and Luke in the other. Nico is somehow roped into driving and Clementine knows he probably regrets that. You put five 25-31 year olds who see each other simultaneously too little and too much in the same car when there’s an annoying amount of traffic and it’s an interesting ride.

“Someone must be throwing a party,” Clementine comments as they turn onto the cul de sac, cars lining up the curb. She squints at her and Nico’s driveway at two familiar cars. “What are Dougie and Bratter doing here?” Nico just gives her a shrug. The brothers in the back don’t respond either. “What are you guys not telling me?”

“Chill, Clee,” Jack says. “We have no idea what’s going on either. We’ll find out in two seconds anyways.

She almost believes him. Instead, she falls in step with Nico, who locks the car. “What’s going on?” She mutters.

Nico just smiles, hand on her lower back naturally. “It’s all good. Just trust me.”

And the thing is, she does. She trusts Nico with her life.

The second she walks through the door, she jumps as a chorus of “congratulations” echoes through the home. She scans the room quickly. The house is decorated with streamers and balloons, there are food and snacks all over and their home looks so filled.

Maeve, Ellen and Jim beat them here, all looking very proud. Next to them are Quinn, Jack and Luke with big smiles, next to their significant others — Amelie snapping pictures with her camera, Jordyn leaning back into Luke’s chest, and even Grace is here, Quinn’s arm wrapped around her waist that’s starting to show her small, beautiful baby bump. Grace is supposed to be on tour singing in front of a sold-out crowd in Florida right now.

And then there’s Dougie. And Jesper and Nicole and their toddler son. And Timo and Steph. And Erik and Kristen and their kids. And Seamus. And Jonas. And Ethan. And Nate and Dawson and their significant others. And seemingly almost every other Devils player, most present, some past. And then there’s Trevor, Alex and Cole and Clementine feels like she’s 21 again.

Then there’s her family, blood related and not. Her Uncle Thomas and Aunt Mariana — Thomas is Miguel’s younger brother. Her Aunt Aoife, who was in California literally two days ago. Those are the only blood-related family members who live in the US, and they’re all here. Then there’s Lara and John and Emily, who’s somehow 16 now. Other various members of the Hughes extended family who she’s always loved are dispersed around.

And then a smattering of her friends from UCLA, Stanford and NYU, all cheering enthusiastically. The ones who made all those years filled with light even in the darkest crevices.

The house is filled with so many people she loves. As she turns back to look at Nico, she feels overwhelmed. “What’s all this?” She chokes out.

“To celebrate you,” Nico says with a twinkle in his eye.

“His idea, by the way.” Emilia calls out with a grin. Clementine has to laugh. Because of course it is.

“I love you,” she whispers to Nico, pecking him on the lips.

“I love you.” He repeats back. “Now go celebrate with everyone.”

And celebrate with everyone she does. As she does that, she can’t help but steal glances at Nico from wherever she is in the room. Because she’s been blessed with having a wonderful support system — the people currently in this house prove that — but there’s never been anyone quite like Nico who just loves her so wholly and wants to celebrate her all the time.

Later that night, after she bids goodbye and a gracious thank you to Jesper and Nicole, who stayed to help clean up, she lets out a deep breath. It’s just her and her brothers and all the significant others now, Ellen, Jim and Maeve having retired up to bed half an hour ago. She collapses on the couch next to Nico. She stays quiet as she listens to Luke and Grace arguing about something that really reminds Clementine that Grace may be married to Quinn, but Grace met Luke first at a bar in New York years ago and has refused to stop making fun of him since then.

It was just her and the boys for so long. She’s so happy that they’ve all found their own counterparts throughout the years.

“Thank you for today,” she mutters to Nico. “Seriously. It was…thank you.”

“Of course,” Nico says, his thumb going over the ring on her left hand. “You’re so loved, baby. Any chance to remind you of that is worth it to me.” She just leans up to kiss him.

“Ew,” Luke says, ruining the moment. Jordyn slaps him for that one.

Clementine scoffs, “Fuck off. We’re literally getting married next month.”

“Okay and?” Even at 25, Luke is still her annoying little brother. “I know today’s your day and all, but sucking face with my captain is not something I really want to see.”

“Then look away.”

Quinn snorts under his breath. “You guys are impossible.”

“Learn to deal with it, Quinny,” Jack smirks. “You have a child coming soon. If they’re anything like Grace, they’re gonna be fighting you all the time.”

Grace reaches over her husband and shoves Jack. “Watch it, Hughes. Unless you want your backstage pass taken away when you come to my show in two weeks.”

Jack gasps dramatically. “But I haven’t gotten to see you perform in ages!”

“Exactly. So zip it.”

Amelie makes eye contact with Clementine and Nico with an eye roll. “They exhaust me.” And Clementine has to laugh, because they’ve all made the choice to be exhausted by each other.

Soon after, everyone’s tired out from the day’s festivities and starts heading to their respective rooms for the evening. Clementine trails behind everyone, shutting the lights off and making sure the doors are locked.

She’s about to shut the light off in the living room when she stops, catching sight of a photo frame hung on the wall opposite the couch. They don’t have many frames hung up around the house, but the photos they do have hung up are important.

She stares at her father’s face. The picture was taken when Clementine was fifteen. The three of them were about to go to Thomas and Mariana’s wedding, Maeve in a long blue dress, Miguel in a dashing suit with a matching blue tie and Clementine in a glittery pink dress. They’re all smiling at the camera in front of a sunset. It’s one of Clementine’s favorites.

Suddenly, her throat closes up as her father’s voice echoes through her brain. “The universe is gonna give you muchas flores,” he always said. All the flowers, he would say. She thinks he said that on the hospital bed on his last day. She’s long forgiven herself for not remembering every word from that day anymore.

Nico comes from behind and his hands wrap around her shoulders as she grabs his wrists. She then turns her head to the picture right next to it and smiles. It’s of her and Nico almost two years ago on New Year’s Eve, four hours before Nico would get down on one knee and ask her to spend the rest of their lives together. And then lastly, to the right of that picture, a frame with three pictures in one. Her, Quinn, Jack and Luke all during their respective drafts. The same photoset is hanging in their homes as well.

She feels Nico kiss the back of her head and she smiles, before turning and heading to bed, Nico’s arm around her shoulder.

long live the walls we crashed through

i had the time of my life with you

#k writes #hockey fanfiction #hockey fanfic #new jersey devils #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes #jack hughes #luke hughes #nico hischier #the blue au #hockey blurb #nhl fic #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb

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