#Luke Hughes story

[hockeylovee12]

Just A Pawn-Luke Hughes

Chapter Three

Summary: Once again Luke’s roommates express worry over his behavior, Luke shuts them down it isn’t until Luke gets a surprised visit that things start to turn around.

Warnings: mention of drug use, overprotective brothers, mentions of being used, implied sexual content

—————————————————

Luke sat on the couch in the living room of his shared house, his roommates and teammates surrounding him. Dylan Duke, Mackie Samoskevich, Ethan Edwards, and Mark Estapa exchanged concerned looks as they glanced at Luke. 

A few weeks had passed since they expressed concern over him and Remi, and instead of listening to them Luke had only continued seeing Remi, and they continued growing increasingly worried about his reckless behavior. 

Dylan cleared his throat, breaking the tense silence in the room. "Luke," he began cautiously, "we need to talk." Luke looked up from his phone, annoyance etched on his face.

“What now? Can't you guys just leave me alone?"

Mackie let out a sigh and took a seat next to Luke. "Look, man, we're your friends. We're just worried about you."

Ethan chimed in, his voice laced with concern. "We know you came home high last night, Luke. That's not like you."

Luke's eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms defensively. "So what? What's it to you guys?"

Mark spoke up softly. "We care about you, Luke. We don't want to see you go down a destructive path." Luke just rolled his eyes.

Knowing this conversation was going nowhere productive Dylan pulled out his phone and dialed Quinn's number.

After a brief conversation with Quinn over the phone, he hung up and looked at Luke. "I just called Quinn," Dylan said. "He wants to talk to you."

Luke scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Oh great! More of Quinn's infamous lectures! How exciting!" Just then, Luke's phone buzzed with a new text message from Quinn: 'We gotta talk, pick up the phone.' Luke clenched his jaw tightly as he read the text message aloud mockingly to his friends.

Dylan shook his head disapprovingly. "You can't keep avoiding this conversation with Quinn forever, Luke. He's just trying to help."

Luke's frustration boiled over as he stood up abruptly. "You guys are just a bunch of tattletales! I don't need any help, not from you and especially not from Quinn!" Luke lashed out, before storming upstairs.

———————————————————————

Over the next few days Luke's attitude had not changed. Luke still refused to listen to his friends, which resulted in him doing the exact same things he had done before.

One night, Luke found himself in his room, with Remi lounged on his bed, blowing smoke rings into the air. They laughed, talked and kissed, getting lost in their own little world.

Meanwhile, outside Luke's room, Dylan Duke noticed Quinn's arrival. Quinn, being in town for a game against the Detroit Red Wings, had taken this opportunity to confront Luke face-to-face.

Dylan opened the front door for Quinn and quietly gestured towards the staircase which led to Luke's room.

Quinn walked up the staircase and pushed open Luke's door without hesitation. His eyes widened as he took in the sight before him - Luke and Remi, tangled together on the bed in various stages of undress.

“Quinn!" Luke jumped up, scrambling to grab his shirt from the floor. Remi flushed red and attempted to cover herself with a blanket. Quinn's face turned a shade darker as he tried to process what he had just witnessed.

“What is going on here?" he finally managed to say through gritted teeth.

Luke stammered for an explanation. "I...uh...we were just..."

“I can see what you were doing," Quinn interrupted with a mix of anger and disappointment.

Quinn shook his head and turned to the door, “Get dressed and get out of here. Luke we gotta talk” Quinn said, walking out the door to give the two teenagers some privacy.

A few moments later, Luke and Remi were fully dressed and appeared in the hallway. Quinn stood there with his arms crossed, looking at the two of them with a scowl on his face. Remi said a quick goodbye to Luke and walked down the stairs. 

“So Luke, how you been?” Quinn asked sarcasm and anger mixed into his voice.

Luke flushed as he looked at Quinn, not sure what to say, instead staying silent.

“Don’t you have a game or something tonight?” Luke finally said.

Quinn shook his head, “It’s tomorrow night.”

Luke let out a sigh and an eye roll before walking back into his room, leaving the door open expecting Quinn to follow him. Quinn did, but stood at the door for a while before walking in, he noticed the bong sitting on Luke’s desk and a small baggie with a substance in it.

Quinn let a little smirk of disbelief come across his face, “You stop getting drug tested is that it? Or did you just think you could get away with it?” Luke looked down at the floor, before making eye contact again with Quinn.

“Come on I know you’ve smoked before” Luke accuses

“Once or twice and never during a season.” Quinn rebutled. Quinn stepped in the room, and closed the door behind him, before pulling out Luke’s desk chair and taking a seat.

“So let’s talk,” Quinn says. Luke lets out a loud dramatic groan causing Quinn to chuckle.

“you’ve been avoiding it for a while now. You’re dodging both me and Jack's calls and you haven't texted me in a while. Lukey you’re my little brother and I care about you alright” Quinn begins anger no longer lingering in his voice but rather genuine concern.

“I understand you’re growing up and Jack and I we’re overprotective of you, but please don’t go wrecking your life just to prove a point. We’ll work on the overprotective stuff if you quit this crap. No more weed, no more skipping class, get back on track Luke. Otherwise we can just keep going round and round until you get it through your thick head and who knows how bad things would have to get first” Quinn continues.

Luke looks at his brother, and for the first time in a month he doesn't feel angry, instead he starts to feel a pang of guilt washing over him, the weed, skipping class, slacking off in practice all of it made him feel embarrassed.

He knows that’s not who he is and if he’s being honest he didn’t even like the weed that much.

The only thing he didn’t feel a sense of regret for was meeting Remi, despite all of the bad things that came with it, a lot of good things came with it as well.

Remi didn’t see Luke as Jack and Quinn Hughes' brother, or a 4th overall pick with so much to prove, Remi saw Luke as Luke, even without the drugs and the sneaking around the moments they had together, showed Luke a sense of adventure he never experienced before, she showed him a new kind of freedom.

Luke takes a deep breath and looks at Quinn. “You’re right, Quinn I fucked up and bad I gotta get myself back on track, and I will no more weed, no more skipping class, I’m gonna talk to my coach, I gotta apologize to my friends and and you and Jack. I’m sorry,” Luke says sincerely.

A feeling of relief washes over Quinn. Quinn stands up and walks over to Luke, putting his arms around him and gives Luke a hug, and says “About time,” Luke let out a slight laugh.

Before needing to head back to his hotel Quinn offered to take Luke out to lunch, Luke happily accepted. For the first time in a month Luke felt like he was back in control of his life. 

———————————————————————

Over the next week Luke began to do damage control. He had stopped smoking completely, starting getting back into a routine, going to every one of his classes, apologized to his teammates, and coaches and made up with Jack and Quinn.

The only habit Luke has not yet managed to kick was his relationship with Remi. He still hung out with her a lot, although Luke was trying to be more cautious about when and how they spend time together.

Luke was not smoking with her anymore nor skipping class to see her.

It was almost like a healthy relationship.

Until later in the week after a long day of classes, when Luke was relaxing and got a facetime request from Jack and Quinn. Luke happily answered the call on his laptop propping it up on a pillow so his brothers could see him. 

“Hey guys!” Luke greeted his brothers 

"Hey little bro," Jack said with a grin. 

Jack and Quinn talked to Luke about how proud they were of him for getting his life back on track.

Luke offered a small smile, grateful for their support. "Thanks guys. It means a lot coming from both of you."

Jack's grin turned into a frown as he continued, more serious this time. "But we still have one question: what are you doing with Remi? Why are you still with her?"

Luke's smile faltered as he tried to find words that wouldn't betray too much about his true feelings for Remi. "I mean...at first...yeah, I was just using her to piss you guys off," Luke admitted hesitantly.

Unknown to him, Remi had quietly made her way up the stairs and stood just outside his room, listening intently to every word.

Hearing what Luke said she couldn’t help but feel used.

Without a second thought, Remi hastily turned around and rushed down the stairs and out the front door.

Luke heard the sound of a slamming door echoing through the house.

He furrowed his brows in confusion and excused himself, thinking he was alone in the house.

He rushed downstairs, hoping to find out what had caused the commotion.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, his eyes met Mackie Samoskevich's concerned gaze.

“Hey Mackie," Luke said quickly. "What was that noise?"

Mackie looked up from his phone and shrugged. "Remi came to surprise you, man. She looked pretty upset when she ran out."

Luke's heart sank as realization dawned on him. Remi must have heard everything he said about her.

Without hesitation, Luke bolted out of the house and onto the porch, scanning the surroundings for any sign of Remi.

His heart pounded in anticipation as he spotted her about to cross the street in a hurry. "Remi!" he called out desperately, running after her with determination in his eyes.

She turned slightly but didn't stop walking. 

“Remi! Stop please!” Luke begged rushing towards her

Luke caught up with her just before she made it across the street and grabbed her arm gently to make her face him.

"Remi, please listen to me," Luke pleaded, his voice filled with regret.

Tears welled up in Remi's eyes as she looked at him with hurt and anger cutting through her voice. “You used me!”

“Remi-” Luke started in an attempt to apologize, but she cut him off.

“You used me as a decoy to piss off your brothers! Well, Congratulations. You succeeded,” Remi snapped, 

"No...it wasn't like that," Luke insisted urgently, his grip tightening slightly on her arm.

But Remi jerked her arm away and backed up, shaking her head. "No, I’m done. I can’t believe you used me as some sorta fucking pawn. Don’t ever speak to me again"

A/N- I hope you enjoyed this series! I promise not all of my stories have overprotective brothers and sad endings even if my last two did lol. Feel free to reach out and give me some feedback please be nice though or ask me any questions! <3

All images are from Pinterest

[those-who-stay]

mark estapa instagram story, frozen four 2022

[puckinghischier]

angry luke brings something out of me i'm not gonna lie

i feel like we don’t see him show emotion like that often, so when he does it’s like we all just stop and go “oooooo”

[itsjusthockey]

Nights Like These - Jack Hughes

Summer Series Open Now

And another one...enjoy

Send in your requests, I'm super excited

w.c: 1,266

“We’ll be ready in a minute,” you hear Jack yell from the bedroom as you frantically apply a thick layer of mascara. “(Y/N) is just taking forever.”

You can hear his smirk through the last part, and you’re really hoping that he can see you flick him off through the doorway.

“Sorry, I was informed we were going out thirty seconds ago.” You throw on some deodorant as Jack walks into the bathroom shirtless.

“Don’t be annoyed at me,” he moves behind you in the mirror, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I was planning on having an eventful night in. You’re the one who said you’d love to accompany my brothers to the bar.”

You roll your eyes because he’s right, but who could blame you? When Quinn had said it’d been a while since you’d had a drink together, you’d practically run up the stairs to get ready. It isn’t very often that the Hughes brothers express love, and that was Quinn’s way of telling you he’s missed you dearly.

“I know. I’m sorry I wrecked your evening plans; one of these nights, we’ll be alone.”

A smile tugs on Jack's face, and he plants a quick kiss on your shoulder and smacks your ass as he leaves the bathroom, presumably to find some clothing.

A few minutes later, with a final touch of lipgloss and some sprits of perfume, you deem yourself ready to face the Michigan Summer crowd. You step out of the bathroom, and Jack catches your attention and does a little spin.

“This fine?” He gestures to his outfit.

You nod, throwing on your sneakers and grabbing one of Jack's sweatshirts for later. Soon, the two of you make your way downstairs, where Quinn and Luke are sitting on the couch watching something.

Quinn is the first to notice your presence, and his eyes widen in mock surprise. "About time. I’m surprised Jack actually managed to find someone who takes longer than him to get ready.

You scoff at the comment. “Well, Q, not all of us can be as naturally adorable as you are.”

Quinn rolls his eyes at your response, and the banter continues as you all head out to your favorite summer bar. When you get there, it’s pretty busy, but the night is still young. You manage to find a booth in a cozy corner, the perfect vantage point to observe the bar's vibrant energy.

“Everyone wants the usual?” Quinn asks, pulling out his card.

A chorus of yeses is heard, and he makes his way away from the table toward the bar. A few minutes later, he returns, drinks in hand, and you dive into everything you all have missed about each other's lives.

Less than half an hour later, the night takes a busy turn. The decently lively bar has become ridiculously crowded, and you’re overlooking the crowd wondering how the hell you’re going to make it to the bar.

“We need refills,” you shake your empty glass, eyeing the crowd. “but I’m not sure if we can wade through the masses.”

You scoot up a little bit to get a better vantage point, and once you do, you see a small opening in the sea of people leading to the bar.

“I see a path. It’s go time.”

You’re quick to slide out of the booth, Jack following behind. As you navigate through the crowded bar, carefully maneuvering between people, Jack's hand remains securely in your belt loop, ensuring he doesn't lose sight of you. Finally reaching the bar, your favorite waitress spots you and approaches with a warm smile.

“Another round?" she asks, her voice barely audible over the music and the noise.

You nod eagerly, handing her Jack's shiny black card; you playfully remark, "I love paying with your card. Makes me feel not poor."

Jack chuckles, leaning in to give you a quick peck on your pout. "You're not poor. You're just in college. Besides, what's mine is yours."

You playfully jab his ribs in response, savoring the feeling of being with him. The pretty waitress swiftly returns with your drinks, and after signing the bill and leaving a generous tip, you lead Jack back toward your cozy corner booth.

As you return to the table with the freshly replenished drinks, the wild energy of the bar surrounds you once again. The music seems to have gotten louder, and the crowd has grown even more lively. You finally settle back into your booth, Jack's arm wrapped securely around your shoulder, when you suddenly realize you must pee.

You lean towards your boyfriend's ear, “Let me free. I have to pee.”

He drops his arm, but before you can fully move, he interjects.

“I’ll come with.”

You nod, tell the others where you’re off to, and return to navigating through the crowded bar. When you reach the bathrooms, you almost groan when you see the line for the women’s stretches far beyond what you anticipated.

“Fuck, I have to pee so bad.” You complain.

You sigh again, accepting defeat, and get in the line, watching as your boyfriend steps into the men’s bathroom and reappears in front of you a second later.

“Go.”

He nods his head toward the men’s bathroom, standing protectively in front of the door, creating a barrier between you and anyone else. You shoot him a grateful smile and a quick peck on the cheek before slipping inside the bathroom.

You’re done a minute later, and you emerge from the bathroom feeling better than ever. As you exit, you find Jack waiting patiently, a small grin on his face.

“Mission accomplished?" he asks, offering you his arm.

“Mission accomplished," you confirm, linking your arm with his.

Together, you make your way back to the table where Quinn and Luke are both talking about something related to hockey. You’re the first to notice that the night has taken its toll, and everyone is starting to wind down.

After a minute of sitting, you all decide it's time to call it a night, having had your fill of laughter and drinks. The bar has become even more crowded, and the air is thick with a mix of music and voices, and you’re honestly sick of people. So, you bid farewell to the vibrant atmosphere, weaving your way through the crowd, and step out into the cool night.

Arm in arm, you and Jack make your way to the car, the others trailing behind. The drive home is filled with comfortable silence and the soft hum of the radio. As you arrive home, Jack parks the car, and you make your way inside, hand in hand.

Once you step through the door, Jack is quick to snake his arm around your waist.

“How about we ditch these losers and head upstairs.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and you nod in agreement. You both make your way to the bedroom and have a quick shower, much to Jack's dismay and soon you’re slipping under the bed's covers.

Once you’re in, Jack pulls you into him, and you settle yourself into his warm embrace. You stay that way for a while, and pretty soon, you realize you’re losing the battle to the sleep demons.

Jack, of course, has already lost and is already knocked out. You smile at his serene state, knowing he always sleeps better when you’re with him. You gently peck his nose, watching as it scrunches up a bit, and settle deeper into his hold. It’s been a long day, and now, you’ll sleep.

[slaymiedrysdale]

The other day I was grounded (yes at my big age) and I decided to clean my closet and I found this picture on the floor of my closet.

[violetswritingg]

Why is Am I okay? By Megan Moroney so Luke coded?

[wqxianvents]

bingo!

// might be spoilerish! mentions scenes from chapter 2 (02-04)

finally playing luke’s personal story today since i caught up to main yesterday! thought it’d be nice to do luke’s since he’s the ML in the next main story update and i’ve been meaning to get to his anyway.

i absolutely love his story so far 😭 he has taken marius’s crown of having the funniest PS. (episode 4 of artem’s will always be superior tho LMAO)

i adore Aaron. if they made the escape room for reasons that i think, that is the funniest shit ever. the clocks took me out and luke’s face 😭 also “future” being on the envelope, like it probably is bc it’s supposed to be a “futuristic” (or something) type of escape room but luke in a room abt time and the word future just made me ugly cry & laugh the most 💀🤭

also seeing bits and pieces of the past has me in shambles. one thing i LOVE abt his PS is it bringing out my angsty loving self. if you put fluff or angst/no comfort in front of me, i’d pick fluff in a heartbeat but if you put fluff or luke pearce angst/fluff/slow burn/open ending/possible happy ending infront of me, guess what i’m grabbing?

that’s right, the fluf- i’m kidding. it’s just so good like angst be making me giggle thru my tears 😭 like i’m really eating his suffering up and i’m sorry but ily 🥹

he’s so cute tho, like playing his story is reminding me why i loved him in the beginning and how my heart will always have a safe space for him 🫂

short anniversary talk under ->

OH! how is saving for second anniversary going? 🤭 i’m debating if i should pull for 1st anni cards (artem & luke! sorry vyn) or just keep saving… might do the latter. i think depending on how 3rd anni cards are looking, next year i’ll try and pull for the first cards but i wanna try and get all the second cards. IF NOT ALL I NEED MARIUS, LUKE AND VYN 😭😭 first and second anniversary wanters will be havers!! (third too!!) my saving is getting there…

make sure you play personal stories and cards to get extra s-chips! do your dailies and weeklies too :) good luck everyone 💜

[zebraszegras]

Introduction

Young Shelly Hennig as Allison 'Allie' Brannon

The girl on the team

"Put your hands on me again and next time I won't be so nice"

Matt Cornett as Levi Brannon

The twin brother

"My sister is a menace. Trust me I would know"

Mark Estapa as Himself

The new bestfriend

"She seems nice to me. I don't see the problem"

Ethan Edwards as Himself

The sassy one

"Sorry I wasn't aware I was required to give a fuck"

Luke Hughes as Himself

The hairless cat

"Oh leave me alone you piece of shit"

Dylan Duke as Himself

The happy guy

"I think she's very nice actually"

Evan Peters as Harvey Nelson

The bully

"Not my fault shes a weak little girl"

The rest of the Umich boys as Themselves

Somehow they're still alive

"She's about to beat his ass"

[hockeylovee12]

Crossing Enemy Lines

Chapter Two

Luke Hughes x Original Character

Warnings: Cussing

A/N This chapter was updated on 04/11 to replace the photo and then improve the text. The story line remains there's just a few minor adds.

November 11th, 2023

The mid-morning sun filters through the curtains in Luke’s room, casting a gentle glow across his face, as he slowly stirs awake. 

His eyes flutter open and he immediately feels the dull throb of a slight headache. 

With a groan, Luke rolls over and buries his face into the soft pillow. He silently thanks the hockey gods that his coach-even if it was done reluctantly-gave the team the day off, allowing him to nurse his minor hangover in peace. 

Fumbling around on the nightstand, his long fingers finally find his phone. He squints at the screen, taking a moment to adjust to the brightness as he swipes through his notifications. 

A text from his brother Quinn catches his eye: Tough game last night bud. 

Luke sighs, remembering the bitter taste of defeat, his team suffered last night at the hands of their fucking rivals the Rangers. 

He makes a mental note to call Quinn later, and check in on how his game went, knowing the Vancouver Canucks played the reigning cup champs last night, but having no clue how it went. 

The next message is from his mom: Hi sweetie, Dad and I are so excited to see you and Jacky this weekend! How’s everything going? 

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, as he types out a response to his mom indicating his excitement to see her too, before hitting send and returning to check the rest of his notifications. 

As he scrolls a text from an unknown number appears on his screen: Hey it’s Jordan. I had a great time tonight, let’s do it again :) 

Luke’s heart skips a beat as he reads through the message, and a flutter of excitement courses through his veins. Memories of the previous night flood his mind-the laughter, the easy conversation and the undeniable spark he felt between him and Jordan. His smile widens as he types out the response: I’d like that. 

Just as he hits the send button, the door to his room swings open and Jack strolls in, uninvited of course-a habit Luke has had to become reacquainted with since joining the Devils, and moving in with Jack. 

“What’s got you smiling so early in the morning?” Jack asks, his voice equal parts teasing and curious. 

Luke quickly locks his phone, trying to play it cool “Don’t worry about it,” he mumbles

But Jack, ever the perceptive older brother, narrows his eyes and in one swift motion snatches the phone from Luke’s grasp, ignoring his younger brother’s protests, as he types in his password. 

“Lets see what we have here” he says, a mischievous glint in his eye as he reads the text from Jordan “Ah is this the girl from last night?” 

Luke swiftly stands up and lunges towards Jack trying to grab his phone, but Jack holds him at arm's length. 

“Fine, yes, now give me back my phone” Luke grumbles, his cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance. 

“Not so fast,” Jack grins, his eyes still glued to the screen “You like her, don’t you?” 

Luke hesitates, his mind racing. He likes Jordan, he likes Jordan a lot. There’s something about her-about her laugh, about her smile, about her energy, the way she carries herself. As he ponders for a response, his phone beeps, signaling a new message. 

“She’s asking when you’re free” Jack informs him, his eyes scanning the screen. 

“Today?” Jack says, his fingers flying across the keyboard, to type out the very question he said aloud. 

“Wait. Jack don’t-” Luke tries to warn, but it’s too late. Jack hits send, a triumphant grin on his face. 

Luke finally manages to snatch his phone back, his heart pounding as he stares at the screen. 

Three little dots appear, then disappear, and for a moment Luke forgets how to breathe. 

Then, a white bubble pops up, with a single word that sends his pulse racing: Sure.

Jack leans over Luke’s shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips “You’re welcome” he says his tone equal parts smug and supportive. 

Luke playfully shoves Jack away, a genuine smile spreading across his face “Get out” he laughs, guiding his brother towards the door. 

As the door clicks shut behind Jack, Luke leans against it, his eyes fixated on his phone, as his smile widens. 

He quickly types out a message, asking where they should meet, and Jordan’s response comes almost immediately suggesting a cafe in New York City. 

Luke responds: Sounds good. How’s 1pm? 

Jordan replies: Works for me! I’ll send you the address. See you soon. 

With a grin Luke types out Looking forward to it, and sets his phone down, a flutter of anticipation rises in his chest as he thinks about seeing her again. 

He takes a deep breath, then pushes off the door, making his way to the bathroom, to start getting ready. 

 *****

Luke’s breath forms a cloud in the crisp New York air as he pushes open the door to the quaint cafe nestled on the corner of a bustling street. 

His heart races with anticipation as he scans the room for Jordan. 

He spots her at a table, her face lighting up with a smile, as she waves him over. 

“Hey” Luke greets her sliding into the seat across from her 

“Hi,” Jordan replies, her eyes sparkling. 

They order their drinks- an ice tea for Luke and a matcha latte for Jordan, before easily falling into a conversation.

“Oh before I forget,” Jordan says, reaching into her bag. She pulls out a well-worn paperback and hands it to Luke. “You asked me to recommend something for you and uh this is one of my all time favorites” She explains

Luke smiles, turning the book over in his hand, and looks at the title The Great Gatsby

“Thank you Jordan, that was really kind” Luke expresses 

“Well, you did promise me you’d actually read it” Jordan teases her eyes twinkling with mirth. 

Luke chuckles setting the book down on the table, “I’ll dive into it as soon as I can”

 They continue chatting, swapping stories and laughing at each other's jokes. They delve into various topics from their favorite movies, to their most embarrassing childhood memories.

"...and then I tripped, face-first into the cake," Jordan recounts, laughing at the memory. "My mom was horrified, but my brother couldn't stop laughing."

Luke chuckles, imagining a young Jordan covered in frosting. "Siblings, they never let you live anything down, do they?"

“Definitely not, do you have siblings?” 

“Ya I uh, I got two older brothers” Luke tells 

“Baby of the family?” Jordan teases. 

“Something like that” He jokes

“Don’t worry I’m the baby of mine too” She says, eliciting a laugh from Luke. 

They continue their conversation, shifting the topic to their favorite places. 

At one point their hands brush against one anothers on the table sending a jolt of electricity through both their bodies. Luke looks up, his eyes meeting Jordan’s, and for a moment the rest of the world fades away. 

They lean in, drawn to each other like magnets. Luke’s heart races as he inches closer, his gaze dropping to Jordan’s lips. 

And just as they're on the brink of sharing what would most likely be a magical kiss, the loud buzzing sound of a notification on Luke’s phone startles them both. 

Instinctively, he turns the phone face up, his brightness fully illuminated, and as he clears the random alert, his lock screen comes into view-a picture of him in his New Jersey Devils uniform, standing proudly on the ice. 

Jordan’s eyes widen as she catches a glimpse of the image, and her heart skips a beat. 

Luke notices her reaction and realizes his mistake. 

"Alright, um, I guess you kinda caught me," he admits sheepishly. "I'm not a student. I, uh, I play in the NHL."

Jordan is silent for a moment, processing this newfound information. Luke laughs nervously, trying to lighten the mood. "You know, most girls think it's pretty cool. Did you have a terrible experience with a hockey player or something? Promise not all of us are the same."

Jordan hesitates before speaking. "You play for the Devils?"

"Yeah," Luke confirms, studying her reaction.

"Don't tell me you hate hockey?" He somewhat jokes, hoping to god and beyond her answer isn't yes cus that's the biggest deal breaker in the world. 

Jordan hesitates, her expression unreadable. "No I um, I don't hate. My, uh, my brother plays," she reveals, her voice soft.

Luke's brows furrowed in confusion. "Oh, cool. In the NHL?"

"Yeah," Jordan sighs.

"Who's your brother?" Luke asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Jacob Trouba."

Luke's jaw drops, his eyes widening in shock. "Your brother is Jacob Trouba?!" he exclaims, a hint of anger creeping into his voice.

"Guilty," Jordan half-jokes, trying to diffuse the tension.

Luke runs his hands through his hair, muttering under his breath, "What the fuck."

Jordan bristles at his reaction. "Hey, it doesn't really change anything."

"Are you kidding me?" Luke scoffs, his frustration mounting.

"What?" Jordan challenges, her own irritation rising to the surface.

"Your brother is the captain of the Rangers, and I'm a Devil," Luke points out, as if it should be obvious.

Jordan laughs, but there's an edge to it. "So?"

"So? What do you mean, 'so'?" Luke asks incredulously.

"What does it change?" Jordan counters, her eyes narrowing.

"Wh-what? Everything!" Luke sputters. "Why didn't you mention this?"

Jordan's face hardens. "Are you kidding me? I didn't mention my last name because I had no fucking clue you gave a shit about hockey. In case you forgot, you told me you were a college student. Failed to mention you're actually in the fucking NHL."

Luke tries to defend himself. "Yeah, but that's different. I didn't tell you cus I figured you be some kinda fan girl, which by the way would be a hell of a lot better than you being the sister to the captain of my biggest rival" 

Jordan lets out a harsh laugh, "Rival? Oh My God! Are you serious? Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?" 

"It's not ridiculous" Luke claims

Jordan scoffs "You're right it's not ridiculous, it's just fucking comical" She stands abruptly, grabbing her purse "Grow the fuck up, Luke" 

With that, she turns on her heel and storms out of the cafe, leaving Luke sitting there, stunned. 

The copy of The Great Gatsby still lies on the table, a painful reminder of the moment that had slipped away.

With a heavy sigh, Luke stands, tossing a few bills on the table to cover their drinks and picks up the book, scoffing at the irony of it all, as he walks towards the exit of the cafe, and steps back out onto the bustling streets of New York, a scowl plastered across his face, at the unfortunate turn of events. 

 *****

Luke returns to his and Jack’s apartment, his mood sour and his thoughts consumed by the disastrous end to his date with Jordan.

As he enters the living room, he finds Jack sitting on the couch, his phone propped up in front of him. The familiar voice of Quinn filters through the speaker, indicating that they're in the middle of a FaceTime call.

Jack looks up, a smirk playing on his lips. "Hey, Lukey! How'd the date go?"

"Shut up," Luke grumbles, plopping down on the couch beside Jack.

Quinn's voice chimes in, concern evident in his tone. "What's wrong, Luke?"

Luke sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Just didn't go well," he says vaguely, not wanting to delve into the details.

Jack and Quinn exchange a glance through the screen, their brotherly instincts kicking in. "Come on, man," Jack prods gently. "Talk to us."

Luke shakes his head, his gaze fixed on the floor. "It's not gonna work out, that's all."

"Why not?" Quinn asks, his brow furrowed.

"Just... not going to," Luke responds, his tone indicating that he doesn't want to discuss it further.

Jack and Quinn sense Luke's reluctance and decide not to push the matter. "Alright, bud," Quinn says, his voice sympathetic. "I'm sorry, but maybe things will still work out?"

"Not gonna happen" Luke mumbles, anger creeping into his voice. 

Jack leans back on the couch, trying to lighten the mood. "It's probably for the best, come on, man. You don't gotta be hung up on some random girl when we're trying to win a Cup."

Luke nods, forcing a small smile. "Yeah." He stands up, stretching his arms above his head. "I'm gonna go lay down for a bit."

"Okay," Jack says, understanding in his eyes. "We'll be here if you need us."

Luke makes his way to his room, and decides to take a shower, hoping the hot water will help clear his head.

As the steam fills the bathroom, Luke's internal monologue takes over. He knows he doesn't need to be in a relationship, but the idea of having someone by his side isn't entirely unappealing.

His thoughts drift to his past relationships, or lack thereof. It seems like everyone around him has someone - Quinn with his girlfriend, Jack with his rotating roster of dates. But for Luke, finding a genuine connection has always been a struggle.

The last real relationship he had was back at Michigan, and even that ended in heartbreak when he discovered the girl was only using him for his family name. But now, with Jordan, he thought he'd finally found something real, something special and the fucking irony that for once it wasn’t his last name that ruined something, it’s stupid, it’s fucking stupid. 

As he steps out of the shower and changes into comfortable clothes, Luke can't shake the feeling of loneliness that settles in his chest. He lies in bed, scrolling aimlessly through his phone, trying to distract himself from the ache in his heart. 

It doesn’t work, he tosses his phone to the side, staring at the paperback book he threw on his nightstand. 

Suddenly, his phone buzzes with a notification. For a brief, hopeful moment, he thinks it might be Jordan, reaching out to apologize or explain. But instead, it's a message in the Devils' group chat,

Reminder practice tomorrow 9 AM. 

Luke groans, his disappointment palpable as he tosses his phone onto the nightstand and buries his head in his pillow.

A/N Part 3 coming soon

[those-who-stay]

luke hughes instagram story 10.14.22

[star2fishmeg]

Dating Luke and just being so adored by his brothers and Ellen and Jim

You and Luke are perfect for each other. His friends notice it first, how soft you make him, how you blend with his friends socially and vice versa. You aren't just 'the girlfriend', you're one of his best friends, his refuge and shoulder to cry on, his comfort too. He's your first and last thought, comfort, and person too. That's what makes you two work, you suit each other in every aspect, and have the balance between your own lives and your life together.

Jack adores you, from the moment you two met you clicked. You have this unique banter between you that no one else gets but falls victim to. It warms his heart that you always try to include him in New Jersey when you stay over. You'll cook him dinner along with Luke's, you'll buy him a little gift with Luke's and if you're doing yours and Luke's laundry, you'll throw his in too, especially in times when hockey is intense. If it's not a date, you always invite him out or to watch movies too. When you turn up to games, you're cheering for both of them. He just loves how you never make him feel like he's third-wheeling or just watching from the outside. It's like you have your own little family.

Quinn's been rooting for you since Luke first let your name slip. He's watched how you build Luke's confidence outside hockey, and he adores how his little brother has someone to navigate the world with, constantly smiling and giggling with. You don't have to be so selfless, but you are, and Quinn smiles every time he gets a text from you congratulating him on a Canucks win, or when you pitch up at the dock in the summer, at the crack of dawn to help sort the boat out before everyone wakes. To him, you're a friend, not just his brother's girlfriend. He cherishes the little moments where you're both sitting on the sofa, watching some hockey game over the summer and talking hockey for three hours straight.

Ellen and Jim couldn't be happier that you and Luke made it official. They spent many days hearing about you, and seeing photos and the moment they met you they knew Luke wasn't letting you go, not with the way he looks at you. When you spent the first summer at the lake, they were pleasantly surprised at how involved you were, making it easy to know you. Ellen hadn't asked, but you helped her fold laundry, and you happily and quietly learned a lot about each other (and you got to hear some of Luke's embarrassing moments). Jim appreciated how you let him tell his many stories after he'd lost to Jack at golf, in return asking you many questions about your life and specifically how you met Luke, enjoying your company until the sunset. Now, they're always asking after you and whether you'll be around when they visit the boys in New Jersey, how you're doing and if you'll be joining them in Michigan during the summer.

It's safe to say that you've captured the hearts of all the Hughes' and they're more than happy to have you join their family.

[puck-luck]

home for the holidays | luke hughes

warnings: holiday quickie, gotta be quiet bc there's family around so like semi-public sex, fingering, unprotected p in v, dom!ish luke, light dirty talk, marks, light gag (fingers in mouth), talk about using toys

pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: you and luke make a no-sex pact during your time at luke's home, but that quickly breaks after you exchange christmas presents.

wc: 2027

It’s your first Christmas with Luke’s family and the agreement was that you wouldn’t have sex in Luke’s bedroom with all of his family around. You’re already feeling lucky that his parents are the kind of people who allow partners to share beds during the holidays, rather than splitting them up and sending the partners to the guest room. Given the fact that there are a couple of girlfriends visiting this Christmas, it would be a tight fit in the guest room. You love a sleepover with the girls, obviously, but you’d rather have a sleepover with your boyfriend.

The fast pace of the NHL only breaks for three days– Christmas Eve, Christmas, and Boxing Day– so the “No Sex” pact should have been easy. Three days is nothing. It’s only 72 hours, six of which you spend in the car or on the airplane, so it’s more like 66 hours. You also have eight hours of sleep per night, and you’re staying for two nights, so that’s another 16 hours lost. So, really, you only have to make it through 50 hours without having sex. 

You make it through the first 24 hours just fine. You’re done with Christmas Eve dinner and you’ve all hung out for a little while, drinking eggnog and exchanging stories and laughter with Luke’s relatives. 

His hand had grown heavier on your thigh or waist throughout the night, as you consumed more of the cream-colored drink. It was rare for Luke to leave your side, except to refill your drink, and he’d had the wherewithall to cut you off after two cups of the spiked eggnog, knowing that you’d hate to have a hangover in front of his family the following morning. 

By the time the clock struck midnight, you were beyond ready to go to bed. The relatives had left the house with kind “see you tomorrow”s for the formal Christmas dinner that would take place at Luke’s grandmother’s house. Luke’s parents had gone to bed, too– Jim climbed the stairs right away, while Ellen hung out with the boys for about thirty minutes before going upstairs herself. That had just left the boys and the girlfriends, who had shot the shit for as long as they could, but you all were yawning after such a long day, so the party was cut short.

You and Luke had decided to do one more thing before bed on Christmas Eve. You were going to exchange gifts.

You’d gone first because Luke had insisted. You’d gotten him one of those handheld massage guns. Jack had one for their apartment already, but he was always hogging it because technically it belonged to him, so Luke wanted one of his own. 

The delighted surprise on his face and his earnest thanks, as well as the sweet kiss he’d given you, already had you hot and heavy. Luke’s body was no stranger to you and, probably partially because of the eggnog, you were in the mood to reconnect with him.

Then you’d seen the necklace. You’re still gaping at it when Luke speaks.

“It’s a sapphire,” Luke says softly. “I know you said you didn’t want an ‘L’ necklace, so I got you something more subtle. Sapphire is my birthstone– I looked it up– and I thought the blue would look pretty on you.”

“I love it,” you tell him. You carefully extract the necklace from its box and hold it out to Luke. “Will you put it on me?” You turn from him, moving your hair to the side and baring your neck. 

With gentle hands, Luke reaches around and sets the necklace in place. The sapphire heart rests between your collarbones. After he fixes the clasp, Luke’s fingers trail along the nape of your neck. You feel his lips brush against your skin, reverent and loving, and your “No Sex” pact goes entirely out the window.

The kiss is rushed and, while you’re the one leading it, Luke is not far behind. He’s actually rather quick to cover your body with his hands. His right goes to your behind, laying on your cheek and groping the flesh. He splays the fingers on his left hand, which engulfs a good expanse of your back. 

Your clothes seem to fly off, as do Luke’s. You’re left in your bra and panties, while Luke is in his boxers, and he pulls you to the bed. Tongues tangled, Luke lays atop you and brings his hand to your core.

You moan aloud when Luke sheaths two fingers into your pussy, working quickly to open you up. You and Luke freeze, eyes wide. Your legs are spread and his fingers are still inside of you, so anyone who wakes up and comes to check on you would get an eyeful.

Luckily, no one does, and Luke chuckles in relief. “You gotta be quieter, baby,” Luke mumbles before kissing you again. “I don’t want anyone interrupting us.”

“I will,” you promise hurriedly, tangling your fingers in Luke’s curls and tugging him closer.

Luke curls and scissors his fingers inside of you. You honestly try your best to stay quiet, but Luke’s digits always manage to draw noises from you without much effort. You kiss him. You press your lips together. No matter how you try to stifle yourself, noises leak from your mouth anyway. 

It isn’t until Luke plants his other hand over your mouth that you’re silenced. 

“You never shut up,” Luke says with a goofy smile, sounding more proud of himself than upset that you can’t follow his suggestion. “Do I make you feel good, sweetheart?” He strokes your g-spot after asking, which has you moaning into his palm like an answer to his question and arching your back. Luke grins. “Ready for my cock, baby?” Another stroke to your spot and another moan.

You feel his fingers withdraw from your cunt, which leaves you feeling empty and wanting for more. He’d nearly brought you to orgasm and now he’s taking it away. “Luke,” you whisper against his hand. He goes to remove it, but you grasp his wrist and hold him in place.

Luke quirks his eyebrows. He wipes the slick from your cunt on his boxers before pulling his cock from the flap in the front. “So no one sees my ass if we wake them up,” he explains, stroking himself. He makes sure the crotch of your panties stays to the side, then begins to inch forward.

Your eyes flutter shut and you melt into the mattress. You sigh, lips slackening at the sensation of his cock rubbing against your insides.

“Gonna be quick,” Luke tells you, dipping his head to kiss against your jawline. “You feel so good.”

You nod, blinking at him and maintaining eye contact. He feels so good. He’s the one who makes this feel the way it does.

His hips roll into yours rapidly, sending sparks through your being. Now that Luke doesn’t need to line himself up with your core, his hand has found its way above your shoulder, planted securely against the bed and keeping himself steady. 

Your nails find his arm, then his bicep, then his back. Angry red lines rise on his skin, which will hopefully fade by tomorrow. It would be terrible and scarring for one of Luke’s parents to catch you in the act now, but you’d feel pretty embarrassed if they were to notice the scratches and ask Luke about them tomorrow. You bring your hands back to Luke’s hair.

Chancing it, Luke groans under his breath and removed his hand from your mouth. He kisses you, trailing his tongue along your bottom lip. 

Tilting your chin down, you capture his mouth and suck on his tongue. 

He uses his free hand to draw your knee up over his hip, which brings his cock to a new spot inside of you. It’s deep and he’s constantly hitting your walls, sending jolts through your stomach. 

“Oh, fuck, Luke,” you whimper, louder than intended. 

Luke quiets you with a hush, then pushes his index and middle fingers between your lips. The pads of his fingers press down on your tongue, stealing some of the breath from your lungs. 

Your tongue starts to move, sucking on his fingers like you would suck on his cock. 

“Greedy girl,” Luke coos. He pistons his hips into yours. “Touch your clit for me, baby. Touch it like I would.”

Spit pools in your mouth when your jaw drops at the allure of his words, hand finding the apex of your legs and circling the bundle frantically. 

“No,” Luke chastizes. “You know that’s not what I’d do.”

You draw your eyebrows together and whine petulantly, but you halt your movements anyway. 

“Go on,” Luke encourages. “Do it like me or don’t touch at all. I’ll make you come regardless.”

He slows his hips and eyes you, challenging you. You know that he’ll stop if you don’t listen and you cannot fathom having his cock leave you.

Closing your eyes, cheeks burning a little bit, you pinch your clit between your fingers and roll it. It’s a move that Luke discovered when he was toying with you after morning practice one day, edging you mindlessly and testing to see what you like. It was relatively early in your relationship and you swear that Luke’s “discovery” was just the culmination of a bunch of near-orgasms that he had torn away from you. He’s been using this move for months and it has brought you to the edge more times than you care to admit. 

Smiling devilishly, Luke begins to fuck into you quicker than before. “That’s my girl,” he says. “Can’t believe you’re going to come in my old bed. So slutty, baby. I love it.” He pushes his fingers further into your mouth, silencing your response to his dirty talk. 

As embarrassing as it is, the pinching and twisting of your clit provides a bizarre mixture of pain and pleasure, which make your nerves feel abused and overcome in the best way. 

You start to breathe heavily, panting around Luke’s fingers as his cock batters your insides and your fingers stimulate your clit. A bit of drool pools between Luke’s fingers, mouth as wet around his fingers as your pussy is around his cock. 

Luke gags you on his fingers, his thumb pressing against the soft skin under your jaw while his digits flatten your tongue. You suck desperately, whimpering around him. Your cunt clenches in time with your swallows, which pulls Luke to the edge.

He comes undone first, orgasm starting as a trickle then turning into a series of spurts inside your pussy. It feels scalding against your sensitive inner walls, mixing with your juices. 

“Come with me,” Luke tells you as his orgasm hits. He comes closer and bites over your neck, refusing to suck and mark since he knows it’ll bother you the following day. “Come, babe. Keep touching your pretty, swollen clit and milk my cock when you come.”

His words tip you over the edge, tinging your eyesight with black spots. His fingers act as a wonderful gag, as they’ve been doing all night, but the addition of his ring finger keeps your wanton moans from shaking the house. 

Luke fucks into you through the aftershocks, truly allowing your entrance to squeeze every last drop from his member. He pulls out only to plug you again with his fingers, the ones that had just left your mouth. They slide inside you easily, aided by your spit and the mixture of cum that resides inside of you.

Plastering himself to your side, Luke kisses you sweetly. “So, you like the necklace?” He asks. 

You breathe out a little laugh. “Love it. It’s so cute, Luke.”

“Aw, just like you,” Luke says with a shit-eating grin.

You hit his shoulder, blushing. “Shut up. You’re so weird.”

“Just complimenting my pretty girlfriend,” Luke continues. He bends his arm at the elbow and props his head up on his fist, looking down at you. “Hey, do you think we can use my massage gun as a vibrator?”

notes: merry christmas to those who celebrate and happy end-of-year to everyone who DOESN'T celebrate christmas but still wants to be included! love you guys. i hope this was a satisfactory christmas present <3

[itsjusthockey]

45 Days Later - Jack Hughes

Summer Series Open Now

Here is the official beginning of the Summer Lakehouse Series.

Send in requests

I’m ready to rumble.

w.c: 1,571 (dont steal my work)(credit to gif maker)

Part 1

You slightly want to kill someone when you awake to your iPhone ringing incessantly. It's early. Way too early. Too early even for your very specific set of alarms.

Groggily, you sigh, accepting defeat and fumbling around for the device on your bedside table, cursing under your breath when you see who has woken you up much earlier than needed.

“What?” You groan, rubbing your eyes to chase away some sleep as you answer the FaceTime call.

“Hello to you too, sunshine,” Jack smirks at your screen, obviously incredibly pleased with himself.

You let out an exasperated sigh, looking at the time. "It’s 4:30, Jack. What do you want?”

Jack is practically beaming as you continue to squint at your phone's brightness.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I decided that if I’m awake, you’re awake.”

“Well, mission accomplished," you hiss at him, sitting up in bed, stretching your arms. "I'm awake now. Happy?"

“Ecstatic," Jack retorts, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "How are you even able to sleep? I’ve been up since Tuesday counting down every second.”

You roll your eyes playfully, knowing exactly how Jack gets when he's excited. "Well, some of us need our beauty sleep before we have to face the public.”

Jacks snorts. "Oh, believe me, baby, you don't need any more beauty sleep. You're already perfect."

You roll your eyes as far back as possible.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Hughes.”

He lets out another laugh as you crack a few muscles.

“Well, now you’re already awake-“

“Thanks to you.”

“You can get up and get ready because you have a very important flight to catch in 2 hours.”

You glance at the clock again, realizing that trying to sleep again is pointless, and now, despite the early hour, a surge of excitement fills your veins as the reality of the day ahead sinks in.

“You’re so annoying,” you say, sliding out of bed. “But I suppose it would be tragic if I did miss this flight“

You see Jacks's face drop a bit. “Don’t even joke. I think I’d die.”

You can't help but smile at his eagerness.

“J, it’s been forty-five days. You can wait a few more hours.”

He rapidly shakes his head. “Really don’t think I can“

The words melt your heart, and you can't help but feel another surge of excitement. "I miss you too, loser. Five hours, give or take.”

With a little more back and forth, you finally hang up the phone, the grogginess finally leaving you, and start your morning routine. Though you’re a little upset about the early wake-up, now you don’t have to rush, which is slightly lovely.

You shower, get dressed in comfortable travel attire, and double-check your bags to ensure you haven't forgotten anything important. As you go through the motions, your mind can't help but wander to the fact that in just a few hours, you’ll be at the lake house. The thought of surfing on the water, laughter-filled late bonfires, and being with your boyfriend again makes you giddy.

Time moves quickly, and soon enough, you're ready. You grab your suitcase and head out the door, heading to the airport and praying the day runs smoothly.

The airport is busy, but you navigate through check-in and security easily, and the excitement in the air is contagious. You find yourself grinning as you walk to your gate, and the many hours of separation are dwindling. Soon, you'll be reunited with the idiot you’ve missed so dearly.

You get coffee, and some snacks, find a comfortable spot, and less than an hour later, you board the plane. You find your seat, shoot off a text to Jack and turn on your shared playlist.

Minutes later, you’re in the clouds, and you feel yourself at peace for the first time in a while, so with a slight smile, you close your eyes and try to sleep just a little more.

————————————-

A shortish flight later, you barely step ten feet in the Delta terminal baggage claim when you get a text that immediately sends you into panic mode.

-I see u-

You snap your head to survey your surroundings and try your best to prepare yourself for the attack, but you know it’s futile. You’re proven correct when, within five seconds of seeing the text, you’re thrown to the ground, a hand coming to cover your mouth to silence your scream.

To onlookers, this may seem like a kidnapping attempt but not one single person even bats an eye as you’re wrestled to the dirty airport floor.

Jack makes quick work of laying his entire body weight on you and crushing you between his body and the floor. You struggle to breathe between your laughter and all the extra weight that is being dramatically laid out on your chest.

You both stay this way for a second and finally, you smack him in an attempt to push him off of you. He does, jumping up quickly and pulling you into a hug that crushes every bone in your body.

When he lets you pull back a little bit, you finally take in his face for the first time in over a month. His eyes are filled with happiness, and he smiles so hard you’re afraid his face might break open. You notice he hasn’t shaved; growing slightly along his jaw and upper lip is a little hair that has you immediately wanting to pull out the razor you know is somewhere in your checked bag.

“God, you hate it, don’t you?”

You realize you must have been staring a bit too long at his face, and laughter bursts from your lips.

“No, it’s um,” you pause, a teasing smile crossing your face. “It’s fine.”

Jack lets out a groan, pulling you into him and dropping his head into your neck.

“It’s coming off immediately,” he mutters, the light vibrations sending a chill down your spine.

After several seconds of sulking, Jack pulls back, looking deeply into your eyes. He doesn’t say anything, but his soft smile somehow grows even more, and he leans back to kiss your forehead.

You try your best not to melt, pulling him back for another hug. His grip is so tight, as if he thinks you might slip away.

You stay there for another few moments before he pulls back slightly, and both of his hands remove themselves from your waist and go to cup your face. He stares hard for a second, his beautiful green eyes scanning over every inch of your face until they stop at your lips, and after a moment, he connects yours together, and fireworks explode in your entire body.

You kiss him for a few seconds, then remember you’re in the middle of a crowded airport and pull back from his firm embrace. When you part, you see he’s got a slight smirk on his face that makes your heart stutter. He always is a little cocky and a whole lot clingy when you first see each other after a long time apart, but you love the combination. 

With a playful grin, you nudge Jack's side and motion toward the exit. "Come on, Romeo. Let's get out of here, and let's save the rest of this reunion for the privacy of the Lakehouse, shall we?"

Jack chuckles and nods, intertwining his fingers with yours. Together, you find your checked bag and make your way through the bustling airport. You let him lead you to his parked car, and he opens the door for you, and you slide into the passenger seat of the Range Rover.

As Jack pulls out of the airport parking lot, you lean back in your seat, taking in the familiar sights of the city passing by. His hand rests on your thigh, and the drive to the lake house is filled with laughter, catching up on missed stories and stealing stolen glances at each other whenever the traffic allows.

You drive for a while, but you soon turn onto the familiar road leading to the Lakehouse. You’re practically bouncing in your seat when Jack pulls into the driveway, and before the car has even come to a complete stop, you're unbuckling your seatbelt when Jack quickly grabs you before you can rush out.

“Wait, (Y/N).”

You meet his eyes, and you can see all the love and longing in the world in his gaze. Without a word, he captures your lips in a tender, passionate kiss, sealing the moment and igniting a fire that had been smoldering within both of you during the time apart.

As you break the kiss, you can't help but smile, knowing that this is just the beginning of an epic summer. You feel yourself leaning back in, and your lips barely brush when what you assume is a ball hits the windshield in front of you. You both are a little shocked, but a smile breaks on your face when you see Luke standing about ten feet away, with his arms crossed, looking less than impressed.

“You guys wanna stop making out and come see everyone who’s been waiting just as long as Jack to see you?”

You laugh at his annoyed tone and move to get out of the car when Jack grabs you once more, stealing a quick peck and whispering in your ear.

“We’ll finish this later.”

[freeabortionslol]

Injury Report (quinn hughes x actress!reader)

summary: fluff!! childhood bsfs to lovers, mutual pining, you go to a Canucks game during one of your free days to see your best friend, quinn hughes play. unfortunately the game results in a knee sprain. you and quinn go back to your house where you take care of him, and he realizes he can't spend another day without you.

warnings!! baby fever, domesticity, injury (knee sprain), makeout, kinda suggestive

a/n why is the reader always an actress? why are they always best friends to lovers? why is the team always playing the ducks? idk man leave me alone

wc: 4.4k

It was supposed to be a good night, at least a normal one. That’s what you thought as you were sitting up in the box seats with your hair curled as you smiled wide in Quinn’s jersey. Ellen and Jim were tucked away in New Jersey to see Jack and Luke, so you took it upon yourself to go see Quinn play. It was an away game in Anaheim, and you just happen to have a small home in Los Angeles, so you thought it would be the perfect time to go to a game. You and Quinn had planned this about a month out, realizing the game fell during a week where you had absolutely nothing going on. It was rare to have these moments considering you’re constantly working on new projects, but you were more than happy to spend that time with Quinn. You were cozied up in between Bella Boeser and Natalie Miller, watching as Natalie tried to tame her small children. One of her daughters, Scarlett, sat in front of you staring as you spoke with Bella about the latest fashion trends.

“Do you really have super powers?” Scarlett cut off your conversation, referring to your role in the marvel films.

“Man, I wish! I just play pretend for the movies.” You shifted your focus to the small blonde girl who was sitting in front of you. In her eyes you could see the infatuation she had for you. You let your attention slip away from the game as this little girl asked you question after question. No doubt you had serious baby fever. It was hard not to when Natalie and J.T somehow made the most well behaved children on the planet.

“Who's your favorite player on the team?”

“Ooh probably Quinn Hughes because he’s one of my best friends, but your dad is pretty cool too.”

“Um, did you know that um Mr. Quinn has um two other brothers that play hockey too?” her T’s coming out as D’s.

“Yes I did! I’m also very good friends with Jack and Luke.”

“Do you like the brothers teams better or daddy’s team with um Mr. Quinn?”

“That's tough. I can’t pick or they’ll all get mad at me, but tonight I'm a Canucks fan.”

You didn’t know at the time, but while you were in deep conversation with Scarlett, the stadium's camera panned to you. This was always bound to happen whenever you went to one of the boy’s games, considering you were an A list actress with an impressive catalog. Quinn, who had just gotten off the ice, shifted his attention to the screen above him and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you being so gentle with the little girl. He was so hopelessly in love with you and everyone knew it, except for you. Watching you being so good to the small child made his mind create the scenario of you being the mother of his own children. It’s all he’s ever wanted, but the dynamic between the two of you always made him hesitant. Worried that it might create tension between himself and his brothers. Unfortunately for him, the tv camera quickly shifted to the smile he wore while watching you. The media was constantly trying to conjure up stories about the two of you. That you were secretly dating, hookup buddies, engaged, pregnant, but the sad truth is that the two of you had always just been friends. You and Quinn weren’t the type of people to talk about each other to the media, so you always left it up to the people to keep guessing. All they knew was that the two of you grew up together, and the rest was up to their imagination. 

“Hey! That’s my kid!” J.T yelled, pulling Quinn from his trance. “And my wife!” He waved up at the screen. “Wait, why are they showing my family?” Quinn’s attention was still on the screen, focused on the woman who was now cut slightly out of frame as Scarlett climbed into Natalie’s lap.

“Look who’s next to em.” Quinn pointed to the screen causing the realization to hit J.T.

“Oh! It’s little miss Movie Star.” He nudged Quinn’s shoulder “Huggy bear’s bunny.”

“She’s not my bunny. She’s just a good friend.” Just. The word stung as it came out of his mouth. He didn’t want to be just a good friend, he wanted to be your person.

The game continued as normal now five minutes into the second period. You sipped on a terrible IPA that Bella grabbed for you, as you attempted to fix the beanie on top of your curled hair. You weren’t too nervous about tonight considering the Canucks were on a winning streak and were already leading 3-0 with Quinn scoring one goal. The feel of the night made you wish you could do this all the time. You wished to be wearing Quinn’s jersey in a way that said “He is mine. I love him and I claim myself as his.” instead of in a “I’m a famous actress who just wanted to go to a hockey game and I didn’t have anything to wear so I wore your jersey because we're friends.” way. You watched as the small children focused on the ice from the barrier in awe, casually throwing out a “Mommy, look at how fast daddy skated!” You wanted little hockey stars and movie stars to watch Quinn skate on the ice every night. You let your mind drag you to a world where you became a Canucks WAG, had your own last name on the back of your jersey, sitting back as your children cheered on their dad from the box. They would probably have the signature Hughes chestnut colored hair and striking smile. You wondered if they would want to be a hockey player like their dad, or an actress like their mom. You were kidding yourself knowing damn well that Quinn would have those kids on the ice before they could even walk. You let yourself get wrapped in the imagery of white picket fences and family dinners with Quinn, you almost missed the moment that shifted your entire night. 

You heard a loud bang and several “Oooh”s from the box, and looked down to see Quinn kneeling on the ice. He was in the neutral zone with the puck when one of the Ducks slammed their body directly into him causing him to fly over another player's back, landing legs first onto the ice. You immediately sprung from your seat, hand covering your mouth, as you made your way toward the barrier. You placed your free hand on the rail, leaning as far out as possible. Your heart began to race and your eyes filled with tears of shock as you watched the scene before you. As he tried to get up, Quinn’s face shifted from disgruntled to agonized in an instant. You felt a lump in your throat watching as he couldn’t manage to lift himself from the ground. You’d never seen him so hurt. His face tightened as he kept trying to pull himself up. You wished you were closer so you could scream at him to stop, but he was never one to throw in the towel. He was clearly trying to convince himself that he could get up and keep playing, but his body was failing. A mix of terror and sadness creeped through your entire body as the trainers pulled him from the ice. You stayed silent watching him disappear to the locker room, each breath shakier than the last. The media was going to have a field day with the shot of tears in your eyes watching him leave, but you weren’t thinking about that at this moment. Natalie walked over to you, placing a hand on your back to try and reassure you that he would be okay, as she guided you back to your seat. You couldn’t speak and frankly you didn’t want to. You didn’t even know what to say because everything you wanted to pour out was suggestive to the fact that you were really in love with him. 

The game was now 7 minutes into the third period, and Quinn has yet to emerge from the locker room. At this point, you assumed he wasn’t coming out at all. You sat back in your seat still staying silent as you anxiously watched the game in front of you. Your mind kept drifting to the sight of Quinn broken down on the ice like that. He was in so much pain and your fears heightened as you glanced back to the memory of him not being able to lift himself from the ground. You couldn’t just sit there waiting for an answer any longer, so you decided to pull out your phone in the hopes that maybe Quinn had his in hand. Your fingers shaking as you carefully typed out a message.

You: hey i dont know if you have your phone or not but im just really worried. are you okay? please please please tell me it’s not something serious?

quinny <3: Miss me on the ice? Bet the game is boring without me.

You: OMG YOURE ALIVE whats wrong? is it bad??

quinny <3: Luckily, I didn’t break anything. I sprained my knee. I'll be out for 2-4 weeks. The pain isn’t too terrible at the moment thanks to the meds they gave me.

You: meds?

quinny <3: Advil. Meet me outside the locker room after the game. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Canucks won 5-2 without Quinn on the ice. Now, you stood outside the locker room with Bella and Natalie, waiting anxiously for him to walk out. Brock came out first, giving you reassurances that Quinn would be alright before walking out with Bella, hand in hand. J.T arrived next, swooping his two daughters off the ground after greeting his wife with a victory kiss. He teased you about the way Quinn smiled at you when you were on the screen. Natalie sent him a slap to his chest and the family made their way out. It was only you left standing. All the other players had exited along with their families. You tapped your foot on the carpet below you, pulling your phone out to the time every couple seconds. Finally, your gaze caught Quinn’s as he walked out of the doors with crutches at his side and a brace on his knee. His eyes soften at the sight of you.

“Hey, Quinny.” Your tender voice trembling out at the sight of his injured knee.

“Hey Y/n/n” He says before placing his crutches against the wall to bring you into a tight embrace. You stuffed your face into the crook of his neck, getting a whiff of his designer cologne. His grip on your waist tightened at the comfortability of your touch. You moved your head to rest on the soft fabric of his hoodie as you gave him one final squeeze. As you pulled back, hands resting on his arms, you caught a slight smirk on his face.

“Nice jersey. That mine or yours?”

“Might’ve maybe stolen it last time I was at your place.” Your smile widened as he let out a soft chuckle.

“Was wondering where that went.” He grabbed the crutches from off the wall, leaving your touch. You stared at him and grew a frown at the thought of him being in pain. When he was settled you grabbed his hand, subtly rubbing against his fingers.

“I was so scared, Quinn.” You gave him an empathy filled half smile.

“Yeah, I know.” His eyebrows raised as he reached towards his back pocket to grab his phone. He quickly handed it to you so you could see the photo of you in the box with the caption “Y/n L/n in tears after Quinn Hughes’ injury” Your mouth gaped open as you underestimated how quick they would be “That’s the official NHL instagram account, by the way.” He laughed as you stared down at the phone. He quickly snatched the phone from your grip when he caught you looking through the comment section. “Nope. Not doing that.”

“Hey I was still looking.” You protested, crossing your arms.

“No, because when you read the comments you get all sad, and then you cry, and then I have to comfort you.”

“You don’t like comforting me?” You tilted your head to the side with a fake frown.

“That’s not what I meant. I would just much rather hang out with the happy version of you.” He gave you a soft smile as he squeezed your hand. “I don’t mean to be pushy, but I was promised a bed tonight.”

“Alright then” You laughed and turned your body towards the exit “Onward we go captain!” Quinn’s hand left yours as the two of you exited the arena

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arriving at your small, cozy home in LA you quickly raced to the door to hold it open for Quinn. Faint noises from the city rang through your ears as he slowly pulled himself towards the door in silence. You couldn’t help but frown at the state he was currently in. You shut the door behind him, taking in the scent of your fresh linen candle. You walked over to the back porch to crack it lightly, allowing the fresh California air to fill the small home. You turned around to find Quinn making his way to the kitchen.

“No no no.” You quickly walked to him and grabbed his shoulders to lead him to the couch. “You need to rest.”

“Y/n I’m fine, seriously.” He protested as you pushed him closer to the cushions. He took his spot sitting on the couch, placing the crutches on the ground as you stared at him on your feet.

“Let me take care of you, please.” His gaze shifted towards the back porch. “Do you want food?” Your hands on your hips as you gave him a stern look. He sighed as his eyes softened, looking back at you accepting defeat. 

“What do you have?” He shifted his position to where he was laying on his side to face you, kicking off his shoes.

“Frozen pizza?” You asked quietly, brushing his hair back with your fingers. He leaned into your touch, nudging his head closer to your hand.

“Sounds good to me.” He gave you a soft smile, watching as you removed your hand from his hair walking towards the kitchen. He picked the remote from off the coffee table, his gaze still centered on you, as you reached for the pizza in the fridge. He laughed quietly to himself watching you prepare him food in his jersey. He wanted this to be every night for him, coming home to see your face after a bad game. He admired the way your highlighter beamed off your cheekbones from the soft glow of the sink light. You began preheating the oven while he turned his focus to the tv in front of him. Quickly turning on The Office, knowing you’d seen it a million times, so you would be okay with having conversations with him during the show. You made your way back to the couch, stopping at your tracks in front of him, giving him a good stare while the TV played softly in the background.

“Can I help you?” He laughed watching you stand directly in front of him.

“Do you have a shirt I can wear?” You asked, squinting your eyes at him.

“This is your house. I know you have your own shirt.” He smiled looking up at you.

“Not any comfy ones! All my good clothes are in New York. You know I'm never here.” You huffed out crossing your arms. Quinn let his head hang in defeat, pointing at the bag towards the door. He moved his head to prop on the arm of the couch to watch you walk to his bag. He stared with a soft smile as you unzipped the bag, finding his white tee with a blue Canucks logo in the top corner. It was one of his favorites and he knew he wasn’t getting back. He admired your figure as you brought the shirt to your chest to see how it would fit you. What he didn’t expect you to do, was rip off your jersey right there at the entryway. The sight of you in only a bra and leggings made his heart drop and his face pink. He quickly turned his attention back to the TV, propping his head up with his hand. He glanced at you in his peripheral vision, trying his hardest not to look. Were you doing this on purpose? He didn’t know, but if you were, it was killing him. He glanced as you pulled the shirt over your head, pulling your leggings off to leave yourself in only your underwear. You decided that since the shirt cut just above your knees, there was no need to put in a pair of shorts. You left your clothes on the floor and made your way back to the couch where Quinn was sitting. His face flushed as he stared at the screen in front of him. You took your spot on the other end of the couch, lying down and letting your legs tangle in his. Your eyes were locked on the TV, but Quinn was only watching you. Admiring the way you looked, the way his heart dropped every time you shuffled your legs, and thinking back on the sight of you half naked in front of him. The two of you stayed in this spot for a while, with you getting up to put the pizza in the oven, and then again to get it out. As you walked back to him with two plates in hand, his mind was only on the fact that you had no pants on under his T-shirt so casually in front of him. 

“Thanks, Movie Star.” He grinned wide as you handed him the plate. The two of you sat up, close to each other but not touching, as you ate. “Seriously, I mean. For taking care of me.” He nudged your shoulder, as you leaned into his touch letting your head fall to his bicep.

“Anything for you, Quinny.” He laughed at your comment as you took another bite of your pizza. The two of you sat in silence, finishing every last bite of your pizza. Well, you ate it up to the crust and Quinn stole the leftovers from off your plate. When you both finished, you brought both plates to the kitchen to set them down in the sink. Quinn shifted his position back to lying down as you returned empty handed. So very naturally, you made your way back to the living room, lying down in between him and the back of the couch. You rested your head on his chest and wrapped your arms around his torso. He maneuvered himself so he was able to place his arm around your back. You and Quinn had been in this position before, it was normal for you to cuddle up with each other when you watched TV. Tonight however, things felt different. Like there was a new found spark between the two of you. Quinn felt his nerves tense up in a way they had never before as you played with the bottom of his hoodie, your fingers slightly brushing against his bare skin. You could feel his heart beating against your ear which was always bound to make your body relax against him. You shifted the attention of your fingers from his hoodie down to his knee. Your touch grazed over the brace, a feeling of pity washed over you.

“Does it hurt?” You asked quietly, your eyes never leaving his knee.

“No. It’s not too bad. I’ve dealt with worse.” He let out a soft chuckle. “What’s gonna get me is the fact that I can’t play, but i’d like to distract myself from that right now.” He took your hand in his, moving from the brace back up to his side. Your thumb rubbed the soft fabric of his hoodie back and forth as you took in the scent of his laundry detergent. His hand lightly tracing up and down your back while the two of you watched the TV. You melted into his touch, having to fight the urge to keep your eyes open as he tickled your back in such a comfortable way. You moved yourself slightly, to where you were now lying on his shoulder. Your head was tucked into the crook of his neck, his beard subtly scratching your forehead as he tightened his hold on you, bringing you closer to his body. 

“I love you, Quinn.” you murmured softly.

“I love you too.” He nuzzled his head in closer to yours. It made you sad, but it shouldn’t. He loves you, but he doesn’t love you in the way that you want him to. You carefully played with the strings of his hoodie as he absentmindedly leaned into your touch further. The two of you let the show play, not saying a word to each other. Just appreciating the peaceful moment. It caused Quinn to realize that he couldn’t play pretend anymore. He couldn’t keep acting like there was nothing between the two of you, because there most definitely was. He knew he wanted to marry you, have children with you, see your beautiful face at every Canucks game, and have every night be exactly like this. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, and he wanted the rest of his life to start now.

“Are you asleep?” He asked quietly, part of him hoping you were.

“Almost.” You nuzzled deeper into his neck

“Well, wake up. I got some things I want to tell you.” His voice was shaky, knowing that he was about to indulge in his childhood fantasies, or ruin a 15 year long friendship. You shifted yourself up looking down at him. Your hands on either side of his body.

“What’s on your mind Quinnifer?” You asked innocently, blissfully unaware of what was about to come. Quinn let out a long sigh, throwing his head back before looking back at you. Seeing you in this light, in his t-shirt, you looked more beautiful than any other woman he’s ever seen. He thought for a moment about saying nevermind, but he was already locked in to his plan at this point.

“Do you remember that time we both went to that gala in New York two years ago?”

“Mhm.” You nodded your head, still not understanding the situation.

“We went separately. Each of us dateless.” you laughed, making his face blush at the sound. “I walked into the room which was so crowded. Mostly with women, and Brock was teasing me asking which one I was gonna bring home that night.” He took your hand in his as you crinkled your nose. “But my eyes were only searching for you in the sea full of people, and when I finally found you standing by the bar in your silky navy blue dress, I thought none of these women compare.” Your face quickly turned red, your heart beating fast as you realized what he was getting at. “You were the most beautiful woman in the entire room. I stared at you for as long as I could before you caught me and ran over. You basically leapt into my arms and said…”

“Are you here with a date? Cool. Me neither. You’re my date now.” You finished his sentence, letting out a small nervous laugh.

“Let me finish!” He scolded with a smile. “When you placed your hand in the crook of my arm, that was the moment I knew I was in love with you.” Your face grew a shocked expression. Butterflies swarmed throughout your stomach, not expecting him to be this direct. You also had no idea that he felt this way, and it was the most blissful surprise you’ve ever received.

“Quinn, I-” you started but he quickly cut you off.

“Y/n, I wanna be your person.” A small smile grew across your face. “I don’t want to be ‘best friend Quinn’ anymore. I wanna be ‘boyfriend Quinn’. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I'm sorry if this is weird o-or if it makes you uncomfortable, but it’s the truth.” You cupped his face, hinting at his nervousness. “I just love you so much, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t. It actually pains me to walk around telling people that I'm just your friend.” You bit your lip, smile growing wider. “Oh and by the way, you're an asshole for taking your shirt off in front of me like that.” Your mouth gaped open and you started laughing. “Do you know how hard it was not to look?” His voice grew from anxious to relieved at your reaction to his speech. You moved in closer, now with each of your legs on either side of his body.

“Does it make me evil if I told you I did it on purpose?” You scrunch your nose. 

“Yes!” He laughed making you laugh along with him. You nervously began playing with the strings of his hoodie, his hands moving to your waist.

“Quinn, I’ve waited for you to say those words since the day you taught me how to drive the boat in eighth grade.” His smile grew wide in relief pulling you in closer. Your faces now only inches apart. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Please.” He said eagerly as you closed the space between the two of you. Melting into his lips immediately, the kiss was one that had clearly been held back for far too long. His hands squeezed your waist while yours ran up through his soft hair. You parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth. You let out a soft moan at the feel of his hands moving down to your ass, a touch that you’ve wanted for so long, but could never express. You both pulled back, resting your foreheads against each other. The sound of the TV drowned out by the heavy breathing from the two of you. Quinn managed to steal one last peck from you, moving one of his hands up to cup your face.

“I love you so much, Quinn.”

“I love you, Y/n.”

[capquinn]

In Between | Q. Hughes

summary: your friendship with quinn is slowly transforming. there is an unspoken tension and feelings that simmer beneath the surface, keeping you on the edge of friendship and something more. the in-between is where you both linger, uncertain yet drawn to each other. based upon the song in between by gracie abrams [request] pairing: reader x quinn hughes content: friends to lovers, mutual pining, bit of fluff, easy reading word count: 4.9k ↪masterlist

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Quinn has felt it for a while, though he’s tried to push it aside. It’s subtle at first — small changes in the way he anticipates your messages, the way his heart skips when his phone buzzes, hoping it’s you. He finds himself checking his phone more than usual, almost unconsciously, just to see if you’ve sent something. And when you haven’t, there’s that quiet ache in his stomach, a flicker of disappointment that he tries to ignore. It’s ridiculous, he tells himself, we’re just friends. But the more he talks to you, the more he’s beginning to realise that, whatever it is, feels different.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

"I just can't come between 'em, they got their own thing I wish he'd stop pretendin', he won't let his phone ring For more than a couple seconds, oh, I think maybe two Two hearts just fallin' in and out of love for somethin' new"

Quinn’s back home for the summer, a rare stretch of time when he’s free from the constant grind of the season. His brothers are sprawled out on the living room floor, teasing each other as they dive into a game of cards. It’s loud, it’s chaotic, and it feels like home. He loves it — this easy, familiar rhythm of being back with his family.

His phone buzzes on the coffee table, cutting through the noise. He glances at the screen and, without hesitation, picks it up. Your name flashes across the screen, and there’s no delay in his reaction — he’s quick to answer nowadays, barely letting it ring twice, his voice immediately softening as he presses the phone to his ear.

“Hey,” he says, and the easy grin that spreads across his face doesn’t go unnoticed by his brothers.

Jack and Luke exchange a knowing glance. It’s subtle, but it’s enough. They’ve seen this look before. The way Quinn’s whole demeanour shifts when he’s talking to you, how his voice drops to that soft, relaxed tone that only seems to happen when you call and a beaming smile that reaches his eyes. 

“Everything okay?” Quinn asks, his attention fully on you, completely oblivious to the smirks forming on his brothers' faces.

“Yeah, just wanted to check in,” you reply on the other end, your voice a little muffled, but he hears the warmth in it. “You doing anything important?”

Quinn leans back in his chair, ignoring Jack’s playful elbow jab as Luke mutters something under his breath that he chooses to ignore. “Nothing important. Just hanging out.”

Since Quinn has been away, you’ve been in more contact than usual; trying to stay connected despite the distance. Calls that stretch late into the night and texts exchanged throughout the day. What were once quick updates are now filled with small, meaningful details and random moments from your day, like you’re inviting him into your world. At first, it felt casual, like old friends catching up but somewhere along the way, it all started to feel different — more intimate and filled with silences that seem to say more than words.

The conversation flows easily, the kind of back-and-forth that’s always existed between you two. You talk about the little things in your day, sharing stories, inside jokes, and quick laughs that come effortlessly, just like always. Quinn’s responses are natural, his voice relaxed, his words flowing without hesitation. It feels familiar, comfortable — like home. But there’s something more beneath the surface now. 

Quinn has felt it for a while, though he’s tried to push it aside. It’s subtle at first — small changes in the way he anticipates your messages, the way his heart skips when his phone buzzes, hoping it’s you. He finds himself checking his phone more than usual, almost unconsciously, just to see if you’ve sent something. And when you haven’t, there’s that quiet ache in his stomach, a flicker of disappointment that he tries to ignore. It’s ridiculous, he tells himself, we’re just friends. But the more he talks to you, the more he’s beginning to realise that, whatever it is, feels different.

He’s trying to pretend it’s just the distance. It’s easier that way, less complicated. You haven’t seen each other in a while — of course he misses you. That’s normal, right? It’s been months since he’s been in the city, and he hasn’t had the chance to hang out with you like he used to. That’s all it is, he tells himself. He’s just missing his friend. But deep down, he knows it’s more than that. This longing he feels isn’t just about the physical distance between you; it’s about the emotional closeness that’s been growing steadily with every call, every shared laugh, every moment that feels more intimate than the last.

The truth is, it’s not just in his head. The way you talk to each other now — the pauses, the laughs, the silences that stretch a little too long — it all feels different. There’s a tension building beneath the surface, and no matter how much Quinn tries to downplay it, it’s there. He knows it, and he’s pretty sure you do too.

“Alright, I’ll let you get back to it,” you say after a few minutes, your voice carrying that familiar warmth that always makes Quinn smile. “Talk soon?”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice softening even more, trying to sound indifferent that the phone call is ending sooner than he’d like. “Talk soon.”

As soon as he hangs up, he’s met with the inevitable barrage of playful nudges from his brothers. Jack leans over, raising an eyebrow in Quinn’s direction. “You could’ve pretended not to be so eager, you know.”

Luke snickers from his spot on the floor, tossing a card into the pile. “She calls, and it’s like everything else just disappears.”

Quinn rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide the slight blush creeping up his neck. “Shut up.”

But Jack isn’t done. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, grinning widely. “Come on, man. We all see it.”

“There’s nothing to see,” Quinn insists, leaning back, trying to brush it off like he always does. But he knows it’s a weak deflection. He’s never been able to hide much from his brothers, and when it comes to you, they’ve seen right through him for a while now.

"Their past is cold and empty, they know it's been enough Of waitin' on somebody, someone who doesn't care But he knows her name, she knows he'll always be there"

The bar is buzzing with life — the hum of music, the clinking of glasses, the laughter of people drifting through the air — but it feels distant, like a backdrop to the moment unfolding between you and Quinn. Tucked away in a quiet corner booth, it’s just the two of you, like the rest of the world has blurred out. Ever since Quinn got back to town, it’s been different. The usual rhythm of your friendship has shifted, and you both feel it — the weight of something unsaid, the way every glance and touch feels like it carries a thousand unspoken words.

You’ve been trying to ignore it, trying to convince yourself that maybe you’re imagining things, but the way Quinn’s knee has been brushing against yours under the table, staying there a little too long, makes you question it. It feels deliberate, intentional, as if he’s just waiting for you to acknowledge it. His eyes keep flicking to yours as he talks about training, about the grind of the upcoming season, but you can sense his focus isn’t on hockey. He’s distracted — and so are you.

You take a deep breath, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass as you try to steady yourself. “I ended things with that guy.” You watch Quinn as the words leave your mouth, a little too quickly, a little too nervously.

His reaction is subtle — just a slight pause in his movements. His fingers tighten briefly around the glass in his hand, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he quickly schools his expression back into something more neutral. But you’ve known Quinn long enough to catch the shift. The easy smile he wore just a second ago falters, and his eyes flicker away from yours, just for a moment. He’s listening, but something has shifted in him now, and you feel it settle in the air between you.

You should feel relieved, like you’ve gotten it off your chest, but instead, your pulse quickens, and the warmth in the room seems to move with it.

Quinn leans back in his seat, taking a long sip of his drink, his jaw tight. “Yeah? You weren’t happy?” His voice is calm, but there’s an edge there, something quiet and careful, as if he’s trying not to show too much. His eyes meet yours again, and though he’s trying to keep his usual steady demeanour, you can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his body has gone just a little bit rigid.

You hesitate, unsure how to answer. It wasn’t about being happy or unhappy with the guy, not really. It was more about how that relationship never stood a chance, not with the way your thoughts have been tangled up in Quinn. But you can’t say that — not here, not now. The tension between you both is palpable, and you’re not sure how much more you can handle.

You shrug, trying to play it off casually. “I guess it just didn’t feel right, you know?”

His gaze sharpens, and you swear you see something flicker behind his eyes, something that makes your breath catch in your throat. “Yeah,” he says, a little too quickly, his voice low and almost distant. “Sometimes it’s like that.”

There’s a beat of silence, and in that moment, everything feels heavy. His leg, which has been brushing against yours under the table, remains there. He doesn’t move away, doesn’t shift, and it sends a wave of awareness through you. You don’t move either. The tension is thick now, humming between you, filling the space that once felt comfortable, but now feels charged with everything you’re both avoiding.

Quinn’s fingers tap against the glass, a telltale sign of his discomfort, but his eyes are locked on yours. The casual ease of your conversation is gone, replaced by something deeper, something unspoken that neither of you can quite name. His usual calm demeanour is cracking, but he’s still trying to hold it together, just like you are.

“You good with it?” he asks, his voice softer now, but there’s a heaviness behind his words, like he’s asking about more than just the breakup. Like he’s asking if you’re okay with the way things are between you and him — the way they haven’t been acknowledged, the way you’ve both been skirting around the inevitable.

You feel your heart skip as you nod. “Yeah. I think it’s for the best.”

He looks down at the table, lips pressing into a thin line, and you wonder if he’s disappointed or if he’s relieved that you’ve dodged the real issue again. The tension between you feels almost unbearable now, like it’s right there, ready to spill over if either of you says the wrong thing. You can see it in the way his posture has shifted, more closed off than usual, and you know he’s doing the same thing you are — keeping it all locked up inside.

The longer the silence stretches, the more aware you become of the weight of his gaze, the subtle shift in his demeanour. His leg remains pressed against yours, and now it feels more deliberate, like he’s testing your boundaries without crossing the line. It sends a shiver through you, but still, you don’t pull away.

You clear your throat, trying to break the tension that’s winding tighter between you both. “So... hockey. You’re ready for the season?” It’s a weak attempt to redirect, but you can’t handle the intensity in his eyes any longer.

Quinn lets out a quiet breath, almost like a sigh of resignation, and his lips curve into a small, humourless smile. “Yeah,” he says, though it’s clear his mind is elsewhere. “Always ready.”

But he’s not talking about hockey anymore. You know it. He knows it. The tension between you is almost suffocating now. You’ve both sidestepped it once again, pretending everything is fine when you both know it’s not.

Still, the silence stretches, and his eyes drift back to yours, holding your gaze for just a moment longer than before. His leg stays where it is, pressed against yours, warm and steady, like an unspoken promise.

You don’t move. Neither does he.

And the tension, the thing you’ve both been avoiding for so long, continues to simmer beneath the surface, waiting for the moment when one of you finally decides to break.

"She toes the line between 'em, he says he's new at this There's holy ground beneath them, and sparks fly when they kiss"

It’s an unusually free Friday night for Quinn — no games, no media commitments, just a rare quiet slot of time that you had both been looking forward to. You’re both on his sofa, a bottle of red wine shared between you, glasses resting on the coffee table as the conversation ebbs and flows. The city is muted through the window, the distant hum of the nightlife outside contrasting with the stillness in his apartment.

The warmth of the wine is settling in, buzzing just beneath your skin, making everything feel a little softer, a little easier. You’re both relaxed, more than you’ve been in a while, and the absence of his usual responsibilities means there is nothing pulling him away. It’s just you and him, and this moment that feels long overdue. 

The conversation has slowed into something quieter now, the playful banter from earlier fading as the night deepens. You’re sitting closer than usual, your legs brushing his, your bodies naturally leaning toward each other in the comfortable warmth of the room, and while you’d like to blame it entirely on the wine, you both know that isn’t true. The drinks are just an excuse, a convenient explanation for the shift that’s been happening between you for weeks — the simmering tension that neither of you have acknowledged yet.

The wineglass in your hand feels warm, the liquid swirling as you take another sip, and you glance over at Quinn. He’s leaning back against the couch, his arm draped along the top, not quite touching you, but close enough that the proximity feels charged. 

You laugh at something Quinn says, the sound filling the quiet space between you, and without thinking, you scoot closer, resting your head on his shoulder. It feels natural, effortless, and you can feel his body relax slightly next to yours. 

“This is nice… being here with you,” you sigh softly, your words lingering in the air, more meaningful than they might seem.

Quinn shifts beside you, turning slightly as if to make more room for you to settle in even closer. His hand, now just brushing against your knee, lingers longer than before. His arm draped along the back of the couch still isn’t quite around your shoulders, but it’s close enough that anyone watching would assume the two of you were already past the point of casual.

There’s a silence between you, the kind that speaks louder than anything either of you could say. The tension, the closeness, the feeling that everything has led up to this moment — it’s undeniable.

Then, softly, Quinn breaks the silence, his voice low and a little hesitant, as if he needs confirmation of what’s already clear. “You feel it too, right?”

He looks at you, his eyes searching yours for clarity, for reassurance. His question isn’t just about tonight — it’s about everything that’s been building between you. The tension, the unspoken connection that’s simmered for a while now. His question hangs in the air, waiting.

You nod, the answer already written across your face before the words even come. “Yeah,” you say, your voice sure. “I do.”

The relief on his face is immediate, and for a moment, everything else fades away. The space between you closes, the weight of the unspoken words dissolves, and suddenly, you’re no longer just two friends dancing around something more.

Quinn’s eyes remain locked on yours, and there’s a vulnerability in his expression that wasn’t there before. He shifts again, his hand moving fully to rest against your thigh now, his touch warm and steady. The question had been lingering between you both for so long, and now, with the truth out in the open, it feels like something is shifting beneath your feet, like you’re standing on the edge of something new, something sacred.

He lets out a small, almost nervous laugh, and his lips curve into a soft smile. 

“I’m new at this,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. It’s not just about admitting he’s new to this kind of intimacy. It’s more than that. It’s about navigating uncharted territory, stepping into something that feels both familiar and foreign all at once. Moving this friendship into something more, and for the love of all things holy, not messing it up. His eyes flicker down for a moment, as if he’s trying to gather himself before looking back at you. “I don’t really know how to...”

The words trail off, but they don’t need to be completed. You can feel the weight of what he’s saying.

There’s a silence, but it isn’t uncomfortable. The ground beneath you feels as is its trembling with anticipation, and the moment stretches as Quinn inches closer, his breath warm against your skin. There’s a pause — like he’s giving you one last chance to pull back, to stay in the safety of what you were before — but you don’t.

Quinn's lips meet yours, and the world seems to tilt on its axis. The kiss is soft at first, almost hesitant, as if he's still unsure, but that uncertainty dissolves almost immediately. The tension that’s been coiling between you for weeks… months… finally snaps, unraveling with each second that passes. His hand tightens on your leg, fingers pressing into your skin like he’s grounding himself in this moment, tethering himself to the reality of what’s happening between you.

The kiss deepens, slow but intense, and it feels like every suppressed emotion, every lingering glance, every accidental touch is being released all at once. There’s a heat between you that wasn’t there before. It’s something that goes beyond the warmth of the room or the haze of the drinks. This is raw, electric, and it pulses through you with every breath you take.

His other hand, the one draped over the back of the couch, finally moves, slipping down to gently rest on your shoulder before sliding around to your back. His fingers trace a slow, deliberate path along your spine, and it sends shivers racing down your body. The contact is firm but tender, pulling you in closer, until there’s barely any space left between you.

You respond instinctively, your hands moving to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your palms. His heart is pounding just as hard as yours, and the realisation of that shared vulnerability only intensifies the moment. The air between you buzzes, charged with every unspoken word, every unsaid feeling. Your hands slide upward, fingers finding their way to the back of his neck, tangling in his hair, pulling him even closer.

There’s no hesitation now. The pent-up tension that’s been simmering for so long unravels in waves, and it’s not just the kiss. It’s the way your bodies move together, how every touch feels deliberate, meaningful, like you’re both making up for all the moments you held back.

Quinn shifts slightly, pulling you with him, deepening the kiss, and you feel the weight of him, the heat of him, pressing against you. His hands roam more freely now, one slipping from your back to rest on your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt, tugging you closer, needing you closer. Your legs brush against his, and it’s as though every point of contact is sparking something more urgent.

The world outside fades, and all you can feel is him. His warmth. His breath. His heart beating against yours. The tension between you isn’t just releasing — it’s transforming.

There’s no need for words. Everything is being said in the way his hands move over your body, the way your fingers press into his skin, the way the kiss deepens and slows, and deepens again. The tension that’s been keeping you apart for so long has unraveled, and now all that’s left is this — this raw, electric pull that neither of you are resisting anymore.

"She loves how he talks late at night, when there's no one else to say How she's beautiful and funny and smart like nothin' he's ever seen He's good to her and she wants it more than everything in between"

The phone buzzes softly on your nightstand, and you don’t hesitate to grab it, your heart skipping a beat when you see Quinn’s name lighting up the screen. You’ve been in bed for a while now, trying to lose yourself in a book, but the pages blurred as your thoughts drifted to him — away on a road trip for a series of games, alone in some unknown hotel room, hundreds of miles between you. Though it’s not the first time he’s been gone for a stretch, this is the first time you’ve been apart for so long since everything changed between you. The distance feels like more than just time zones. It’s a physical ache, an emptiness that lingers.

You answer on the second ring, eager to hear his voice. “Hey,” you murmur, the late hour making your voice rough.

“Hey,” Quinn’s voice comes through, low and familiar, and just hearing it feels like a balm to the loneliness that’s been creeping in. You can hear the soft rustle of sheets, maybe the distant murmur of a TV on low, and you imagine him in some anonymous hotel room, far from you but somehow closer with every word.

“How’s the trip?” you ask, trying to keep the conversation light even though your chest tightens just hearing his voice.

“Same as usual,” Quinn responds, a hint of exhaustion creeping into his tone. “Long flights, long days. But…” There’s a pause, and you know what he’s going to say before he even says it. “I miss you.”

There’s something so vulnerable in those three words, something that makes your heart clench, and you find yourself smiling into the phone. “I miss you too.”

You can picture him there, lying back in bed, maybe one arm draped over his forehead like he does when he’s trying to hide how tired he is. 

“I love this,” you murmur into the phone, your voice soft, barely cutting through the quiet. Your fingers absentmindedly trace the pattern of the blanket draped across your lap.

“What’s that?” Quinn’s voice, low and a little rough from the day, comes through the line, and even though you can’t see him, you can hear the curiosity in his tone.

“This,” you say with a quiet smile. “Just you. Talking like that.”

On the other end of the line, you hear Quinn chuckle softly, the sound rumbling through the phone in a way that makes you wish he was here, with his laughter vibrating against your skin. “You love hearing me talk, huh?” There’s a teasing lilt to his words.

You press the phone closer to your ear, as if somehow it could make him feel closer. “Yeah, I do,” you admit, feeling the warmth of your confession. “Especially when you get all sweet on me.”

There’s a pause, a beat of quiet between you, and you can practically see Quinn shifting, running a hand through his hair the way he does when he’s caught off guard. “I don’t get sweet,” he protests, but there’s no conviction in his voice. You both know better.

“Mhm, sure you don’t,” you tease gently, heart fluttering. “You don’t tell me I’m beautiful, funny, smart — none of that?”

He sighs, but you can hear the smile in his voice. “Alright, maybe I’ve said that once or twice.”

The air feels lighter between you now, but it’s not enough to shake the ache in your chest, the emptiness of the space beside you. Even through the phone, you can feel the weight of his absence like a shadow, clinging to every moment. This is the part of loving him you didn’t expect — the way missing him would feel so physical, like something tangible pressing against you in the quiet.

Time feels fluid, stretching and slipping away as you talk with Quinn. His voice, low and familiar, wraps around you like a blanket, and the distance between you feels inconsequential, almost forgotten. The conversation is effortless, a mix of soft teasing and the easy exchange of stories from your day — his tales from the road, your small updates, and the shared laughter that punctuates each moment. It's the kind of talk that feels more intimate than the miles would suggest, as if his voice alone closes the gap between you.

Every now and then, the conversation drifts into comfortable silence. You can hear the soft rustle of sheets on his end, the quiet rhythm of his breathing, steady and even.

For a fleeting second, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep — the stillness of his breathing so steady it lulls you, too, into a softer state. But just when you think he’s drifted off, his voice breaks through again, raspy and warm. The sound of it tugs at your heart, a gentle reminder that he’s just as reluctant to let go of this moment as you are.

“You should be sleeping,” you murmur gently, the words laced with both affection and concern.

Quinn chuckles softly, and the sound is so familiar that it tugs at your heart. “Yeah, I probably should,” he admits, though neither of you move to end the conversation. You hear the faint rustle of sheets as he shifts, settling deeper into bed, but there’s still no rush to say goodnight.

Eventually, you give in, your voice thick with exhaustion, still playful. “Goodnight, Quinn,” you say, the words rolling off your tongue in a sing-song tone.

“Don’t go,” he whines softly, and you can hear the smile in his voice, even though he’s clearly just as tired.

“It’s late,” you remind him, knowing he’s been dreading the blare of his alarm in just a few hours.

“Don’t care,” he half lies, and you know he’d stay on the line as long as you let him.

You let out a small laugh. “I’m going to hang up now, but I’m doing it for your own good, so you can’t be mad at me.” 

Quinn sighs on the other end of the line, a sound that’s both exasperated and warm, like he’s really not ready to say goodnight. But before he can protest again, the words slip out — “goodnight. Love you.” 

And for a split second, the air goes still, and your heart skips, freezing in this fragile moment where everything feels suspended. You realise what you’ve said, what’s just hung in the silence between you. Panic flares in your chest, sharp and hot, and before Quinn can respond, you fumble to end the call, your finger hitting the button too fast. 

You toss your phone under your pillow, rolling over as if you can outrun the wave of mortification crashing over you. Your mind spins, replaying the words, each syllable sharper than the last. How could you say it like that? Blurt it out so casually, without thought? What if it was too soon, too forward? What if you’ve pushed him away, scared him off when everything was finally right between you?

The thoughts whirl through your mind, gaining speed as you lie there, squeezing your eyes shut like it’ll stop the embarrassment creeping up your spine. But just as the spiral begins to tighten, your phone buzzes from beneath the pillow. You freeze, your breath catching in your throat. 

With trembling hands, you pull the phone out, dread settling like a heavy weight in your stomach. The screen lights up, and for a second, you hesitate, afraid of what you might see. But then your eyes land on the message, and your breath hitches.

Quinny: Love you too

Relief floods you so quickly it makes you dizzy, your heart swelling with a mixture of disbelief and happiness. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding, a quiet laugh escaping your lips as the tension in your body melts away. The words linger in front of you, simple and sure, and you feel the warmth of them settle into your chest, softening everything.

Quinn’s message glows softly in the dim light, and though your relationship has been official for months, it still feels like a quiet, pivotal moment. The in-between — the space you both danced around for so long — has long since disappeared, but the echoes of it remain. It wasn’t just a transition from friends to something more; it was the space where your connection deepened, where the foundation of everything you have now was laid. The friendship that came first is woven into every moment of this relationship, grounding you both in something real, something steady.

You think about that, about how the laughter, trust, and late-night conversations that once kept you in the comfort of friendship are now the very things that make this love feel solid. The in-between was where you found your footing, but it’s the friendship that carried you here, to this place where being with Quinn, loving him, feels as natural as breathing.

[aliaology]

RISK

summary: in which you and luke have been exchanging texts and calls back and forth after you stalked his instagram and accidentally liked a post from 2020. now you’re absolutely hooked but is it a good idea?

pairings: lhughes x fem!reader

look at me know. know i shouldn’t do it, but i hunted you down. know you had a girl, but it didn’t work out, know you bought a house, but you had to move out, and

you didn’t really know luke hughes. you knew who he was, due to being really good friends with his brother, jack. but you didn’t know the person behind the name.

so, when jack posted the boy for his birthday, you thought he was pretty. that being said, you clicked the tagged people, his profile, and went on a small little stalking moment.

luke didn’t really post a lot, but as a girl who thought he was cute, you were able to figure out a few things. he had a girlfriend, key word, had. she seemed to be in posts until she just wasn’t.

some of the comments from his friends had confirmed a split by making single man jokes. men.

not only that, but when he was with his girlfriend, they got an apartment together. his name must not have been the one on the lease as you learned from jack about luke moving in.

you continued to scroll through his instagram. going further and further back. you stopped on one photo. it was a cute one of him and his brothers. you double tapped the photo, until you realized it was from 2020. instead of unliking it, you threw your phone to the ground and hid your face away in embarrassment— as if he could see you.

you knew there was no point in taking away your like. he definitely saw it and is definitely wondering why one of jacks mutuals is liking posts from 2020.

you groan against your sheets. how could you be so stupid? your phone dinged. you got off of your bed and grabbed your phone. he texted you.

[ yn.username ] lhughes_06 ill admit i stalked your ig too but liking a photo from 2020? amateur move

holy fuck.

isn’t it fun? thinking i’m right when i’m probably wrong. holding my breath like i met someone, knowing damn well that i haven’t been touched by you.

after that day, messages were sent back and forth constantly. at first, it started as a small convo. you lied, saying your friend had your phone and showed you the picture. you told him you saw jack and liked it so you could use it as blackmail against the older hughes.

luke didn’t really buy it, but for your sake, he pretended. from here, the interactions weren’t that big. you two followed each other. you’d repost his and jacks posts, as a good friend does. he’d do the same.

you’d like his stories, reply to them every now and then. again, he did the same right back. then, you two finally began talking. starting with the fact that you posted on your story a picture of yourself and your best friend.

luke was tapping through numerous stories, landing on yours as jack was looking over his story. you and jack were extremely close, but he had no idea who your girl best friend was.

“dude ask her who her friend is.” jack told.

so he did. then you two didn’t stop texting. it got to the point jack had to force luke to get ready for practice.

[yn.username] lhughes_06 jack here, stop flirting with my brother you freak. he barely moved for an hour so he could talk to you

it’s easy to say that you didn’t in fact listen to his words.

in truth, you were giddy and continued to text the boy—even if you had yet to touch him, or even meet him. how were you jacks friend without meeting his family?

i’m not proud, guess i’m just scared of you shooting it down. you can just talk, and i’ll stare at your mouth. it could be bad, but i wanna find out.

you really wanted to meet up with luke. it was almost sad how desperate you were to meet him. in reality, you really just wanted to touch him. to feel his skin, to feel his hair. you wanted to see what he wore outside of hockey, and in person.

but you were scared. the idea that maybe he wasn’t talking to you, but just replying, was enough to scare you and make you keep your mouth shut.

so every time you both facetime, your eyes are on his lips. watching them move with every word he says, every quirk of the lip when he smiles, every small movement, you’re watching it.

luke caught onto it. he didn’t stop you though—hell he liked it.

in my head, you’re in the car and you’re coming to me and you get to my door and you can’t even speak but i think that it’s sweet. yeah, i think that you’re sweet.

your little obsession with luke continued to grow. making way to begin fantasizing moments like a high school girl would about her crush.

maybe the image of his driving to your house just to see you was a bit of a reach…but then the image of his at your door, seeing you and being speechless—it was cute.

unfortunately, that’s not what was actually gonna happen. you two couldn’t make a plan up for your lives. he was so busy with hockey that he was either in another country for games, or at four hour long practices.

you were also slammed. school was kicking your ass, and if you weren’t at school, you were interning for a law firm. if at neither of those, you were working your job at a cafe to help make money for school.

so in all, you two wouldn’t have the time to see each other. so was this crush.. really smart? or was it a bad decision? to be honest, you didn’t care enough. you practically called him ‘your boy’ to your best friend.

i’m gonna bend ‘til i break and you’ll be my favorite mistake. i wish you could hold me here, shakin’, you’re the risk, i’m gonna take it. why aren’t you here in my bedroom? hopelessly boring without you. too soon to tell you ‘i love you.’ too soon to tell you ‘i love you’

you threw all thoughts that this could be a mistake right out the window. you stopped caring because the urge, the desire for him was becoming unbearable.

so instead of wondering why he wasn’t with you, in your bedroom, you packed a bag and talked to jack. jack was going out of town for the day, so he approved of you going to his apartment to see luke.

you could feel the pit in your stomach as you got closer and closer to the apartment. the anxiousness rising. what would you say to luke? it was too soon to say you loved him, but did you truly care?

you took a deep breath and stepped out of the uber. you thanked the driver and grabbed your backpack before walking away. you entered the apartment, entering the door code jack had given you.

you continued on your small adventure, rushing up the stairs to the forth floor. you panted slightly as you got to the top. it was hard to run up four flights of stairs.

after gaining your breath back, you walked down the hall. you got closer and closer, anxiety rising with every step until you finally stopped in front of the door.

you raised your hand, knocking on the wooden door with your knuckles. it took a moment, but then the door opened. the curly hair boy stood in front of you.

both of you were wide eyed, your cheeks still pink from the small workout you had. this was a big risk.

“i love you.”

and you were gonna take it.

lol hey guys