#nhl one-shot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theemporium · 22 days ago

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[6.1k] most of the league welcome a bye week as all-stars hits the season calendar. with both brothers picked and the rest of the boys on the team flying out somewhere warm for the break, luke has a decision to make. and that decision ends up being a staycation in new jersey with you—not that anyone else in his life really understand why. (smut)

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“Whoever is in charge of this schedule sounds like a sadist.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” You repeated with a small huff, staring down at your phone screen where—he presumed—you were looking at the Devils’ game schedule. “Surely there’s a better way than playing, like, three back to backs in such a short time span.”

“It’s hockey,” Luke shrugged, like that somehow explained everything. “It’s just how it is. How it’s always been, to be honest.”

“This makes no sense,” you grumbled, your eyes narrowed in distaste. “You literally played four games last week! Four! In the space of six days!”

Luke snorted. “Yeah, Cherry, I’m fully aware. I was at the games. Playing.”

You shot him a look before letting your brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

“The schedule?” Luke asked.

“No, the hockey player sex god stereotype,” you retorted. “How the hell do they find the time to even have sex? How the hell do they have the energy to even have sex?”

Luke tried—and mostly failed—to bite back his grin. “That’s your big question about hockey players?”

“Yes,” you deadpanned. “I know you are professionals and all but surely this is a bit ridiculous.”

“Hockey is hockey,” Luke answered, shrugging once again. “It’s just always how it’s been.”

“So, hockey players are sex gods and sadists,” you muttered to yourself, your focus back on your phone screen. “Good to know.”

Luke only laughed in response.

“I don’t get why they don’t just move some of the games to the first week in February,” you pointed out. “You have nothing on then.”

“Because that’s when All-Stars is,” Luke answered. “They send a bunch of guys from different teams to compete in these challenges and stuff.”

“Like the Hunger Games?”

“I—” Luke’s nose scrunched up. “Yeah, but less death and violence. People usually stay nice for it.”

“Have you been reaped?” You questioned, grinning a little.

Luke rolled his eyes. “No, I have not. They choose the best.”

You frowned. “You are the best. You’re the best hockey player I know.”

Luke shot you a look. “I’m the only hockey player you know.”

“Semantics,” you waved him off. “My point still stands.”

“No, I get something better,” he stated. “I get a week off.”

You grinned. “Big plans?”

Luke shrugged. “Honestly, I was just looking forward to a week without Jack banging on my door for morning skate.”

“So you’re going to spend the week hibernating,” you teased, lightly nudging his thigh with your foot. But before you could pull your foot back, Luke had grabbed your ankle and easily maneuvered your feet onto his lap. “God, I’ll need to find someone else to cook for me for a week then.”

And the thing is that Luke knew you were just teasing. For all his claims of being a great cook (which he was, just in the few meals he actually knew how to cook), he had grown into a comfortable habit with you. He enjoyed spending time at your place. He enjoyed unwinding after bad games or grueling practices. He just enjoyed being around you, both before and after his recent realisation of his feelings.

But now he was staring at you from across the couch, watching the way you were lounging in one of his old Michigan sweatshirts and just felt that overwhelming urge to say something stupid.

Instead, he settled on, “you should come over.”

You paused, raising your brows. “Come over where?”

“To my place,” he said, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Jack will be gone and I’ll have the place to myself. We can just—” He paused, his brain going blank at the sight of your amused expression. “Chill.”

“Chill?” You repeated, grinning.

“Chill,” he nodded, squeezing your ankle. “Just…I feel like…I’m always imposing in your space, you know? You can impose in my space too.”

“You are a weird guy, Hughes,” you commented, though Luke liked to think you sounded fond when you spoke.

“Is that a no?” He asked before he could help himself.

You beamed in response. “It’s not a no.”

He felt something quite like hope spark in his chest. “So, it’s a yes?”

“Depends,” your eyes glinted. “Are you still Team Stefan? Because if the answer is yes, I will have to decline.”

Luke groaned. “I said that after we watched, like, three episodes! Stop holding that over my head!”

…

“This sucks!”

“Yes, it sucks so much being acknowledged for your skills,” Dawson deadpanned, watching the way Jack wandered around the locker room after practice, whining and complaining about everyone else making their Bye Week plans.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Jack huffed, narrowing his eyes at the boy before shifting his attention to Nico, eyes wide and hopeful. “Take me with you? I want to go somewhere warm. I want to go somewhere where the chances of freezing my balls off are lower than zero.”

“Dude,” Nate scrunched his nose, laughing. “We play ice hockey for a living, you can handle a bit of cold.”

“Suck it up, superstar,” Curtis called out with a huge grin. “Gotta pay up for having the Hughes name on the back of your jersey.”

“Moose lucked out,” Jack sighed. “I have Quinn and the bajillion Canucks players that are also going. I swear he rigged the thing.”

“Bajillion?” Nico repeated with a disgustingly fond expression.

“Bajillion,” Jack nodded. “There’s too many of them. No one needs that many Canucks in one place. It’s an infestation.”

“I’m surprised you even know what that word means,” Nate snorted.

Jack glared.

“You not going up to Toronto to support your brothers?” Dawson asked, turning his head to look over at Luke. However, the boy barely reacted. He repeated the question again, and one more time before finally throwing a ball of rolled up tape at the side of Luke’s head.

Luke tore his eyes away from his phone, snapping his head up to find half the locker room already staring at him. “What? What did I miss?”

“Jack complaining about All Stars,” Curtis answered.

“Oh,” Luke blinked. “So nothing new then?”

“You're not going to Toronto?” Nico asked this time, before Curtis could say whatever witty response he had ready to go.

“Uh, no,” Luke shook his head.

“Scared you’ll steal their thunder?” Nate joked, patting Luke’s shoulder as he walked past to get to his stall.

Jack snorted. “He thinks he’s too cool for Toronto. Probably following John to wherever the hell he is going.”

John’s ears perked, turning whilst he was still removing some of his gear. “What? Luke said he didn’t want to come with us.”

Jack paused, frowning a little before turning to Luke. “You’re not going away for the week?”

Luke could feel his cheeks burning up. “No?”

Jack’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“At least he also won’t be somewhere warm,” Nico stepped in, a hand on Jack’s shoulder providing more than enough distraction from Jack asking questions as he turned to look at Nico with the embarrassingly obvious heart eyes he has always had for the captain.

It gave Luke the short reprieve he wanted, avoiding the other curious looks he was getting as he glanced down at his phone screen for a moment, grinning at the messages before he locked it and put it back in his bag so he could finish getting changed.

cherry🍒: i hope you know that i am using this opportunity to steal as many of your hoodies as i can before the week is over

cherry🍒: consider this your one and only warning

…

It was surprisingly easy to prevent Jack from asking any more questions.

A little too easy, if Luke was being honest.

But Luke was also not an idiot so he didn’t question Jack’s silence after he mentioned a friend would be staying with Luke for the week. Jack had just stared blankly for a few moments before laughing, shaking his head and walking out the room, muttering something about needing to stop by Nico’s after he finished packing. Luke took it as the blessing it was and didn’t bring it up again.

Truthfully, it didn’t hit Luke how insane it felt to have you with him the whole week until he was running around the apartment, cleaning up whatever he could before his phone began ringing from the other room.

“Dude, you have shit timing.”

Ethan laughed on the other side of the phone. “You’ve been ignoring me! I feel abandoned. What happened to the Luke who said he missed me?”

“I never said that,” Luke retorted.

“Rude,” Ethan huffed. “Why do you sound so out of breath? Were you training or something?”

“Nah, just tidying the place up,” Luke replied absentmindedly, staring at the hoodie he picked up on the floor with a frown. If he was being honest, he didn’t know if it was his or Jack’s, and usually he didn’t care. But the image of you wearing it thinking it belonged to him when in reality it was Jack’s passed his mind and he quickly shoved it into the washing basket. That would be a problem he dealt with later.

“Ugh, don’t even,” Ethan whined on the other side of the phone. “I’m so jealous, dude. I would kill to be on a beach somewhere right now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke muttered as he continued to pick up a few empty bottles of gatorade on the coffee table before pausing. “Wait, what? What the fuck are you on about? Who’s going to the beach?”

Ethan sounded just as confused on the other side. “You?”

“No, I’m not?” Luke replied, frowning. “I just told you, I’m at my place.”

“Yeah, because you are tidying up before you fly out somewhere. For Bye Week.”

“Who told you that?”

“I thought it was obvious? Why the fuck would you not be flying out somewhere?”

And honestly, Luke didn’t have much of a comeback for that one. Because to everyone else, it did seem weird. He knew that. He gathered as much from the rest of the boys’ reactions in the locker room the other day. He gathered it from Jack’s reaction and Quinn’s message (‘wtf rusty’) when he broke the news in the brothers group chat.

He knew.

But somehow trying to justify it to one of his best friends over the phone made him realise how fucking dodgy it sounded when none of them really knew about you.

“So, let me get this straight.”

Luke let out a deep sigh.

“You declined on going up to Toronto with your brothers because you didn’t want to impose, or whatever dumb shit you said, and let them enjoy All-Stars.”

“Yes.”

“And then you had the offer to go to Cabo and the Bahamas with teammates, which you also declined.”

“Mhm.”

“And then you decided to stay in New Jersey instead of even visiting us up in Michigan with your week off?”

“Yup.”

“Dude,” Ethan squawked, offended and confused and downright discombobulated. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have a concussion? Is this like a mid-season breakdown? Do I need to call for help?”

Luke rolled his eyes. “You’re always so dramatic.”

“I think I am being perfectly reasonable here.”

Luke disagreed—majorly—but he valued his life so he stayed silent.

“You’re gonna get so bored staying in Jersey all week,” Ethan pointed out. “What are you even gonna do?”

Luke opened his mouth to reply just as the buzzer sounded through the apartment. If anyone asked, he would deny the way his face instantly broke out into a smile.

“Sleep my ass off. It’s hard being in the NHL,” Luke said in the snobbiest voice he could, letting Ethan cackle on the other side and try to get another word in before he spoke up again. “Look, I gotta run, I’ll call you later. Promise.”

“He plays in the big leagues and thinks he’s so much better than us.”

“I am better than you,” Luke grinned. “I remember winning beer pong.”

“That doesn’t fucking count! Mark was the one who—”

“Bye, Ethan!”

Luke couldn’t hang up and rush to open the door fast enough.

…

Deep down, he knew it was stupid for him to feel nervous about you staying over at his place for the week.

He had stayed over at yours more times than he could count on one hand. You had become an integral part of his life in New Jersey. You were one of his closest friends. He knew you. He knew you knew him. There should have been nothing that made the week weird.

But he couldn’t help but feel like it meant more. This was him inviting you to stay over for a few days, to stay at his place whilst his brother was out of town, to spend the week with him when he should be resting and drinking some overpriced cocktail on a beach somewhere warm.

You were his friend but spending his whole stay-cation with him in his apartment like the two of you were playing house was something far from platonic.

It was a bit of a mindfuck, but not as much as realising just how fucking easy it all was.

It was different from the various nights he spent at your apartment. It was different seeing you in his space, fitting into his life so easily. It was different seeing you relaxed and laid back, looking like you belonged.

It was different from the night at his birthday party, where you were one of many faces. It was just you and him, standing in his kitchen or sitting on his couch or lying in his bed. It felt so different but so fucking good.

Only a few days had passed and yet Luke forgot a time where you weren’t here, where you weren’t by his side throughout the whole day.

It was dangerous but the warning signs were easy to ignore when his attention was fully focused on you.

“Are you calling me lanky?”

“It was a compliment!” You insisted, but there was a smile on your face—not that he could see, considering your face was currently pressed against his chest as the two of you laid on the couch to watch the fastest skater skill event. “You would do well in this challenge. It would take you, like, five less strides than the rest of them.”

Luke snorted. “Geez, thanks.”

“You’ll see,” you murmured, nuzzling your head further into his chest. “You’ll do it one day and win and know that I’m right.”

“And then you’ll tell me ‘I told you so’?” Luke guessed, his eyes now on you rather than the tv screen.

“Obviously,” you replied, lifting your head so your chin was resting on the spot your cheek was squished against moments ago. “I’m always right, Hughes. The sooner you accept that fact, the easier your life will be.”

Luke raised his brows in amusement. “So when you very confidently said that you loved that movie where Andrew Garfield played Batman—”

“Shut up,” you groaned, lightly pinching his side but he quickly caught your hand. “We were watching Twilight! I was thinking about Robert Pattinson! I got confused!”

“Uh huh,” Luke beamed. “Just always so right—”

“You’re being a dick,” you huffed, even if you were smiling. “Here I was trying to give you a compliment—”

“By calling me lanky.”

“—and this is the thanks I get,” you shook your head.

Luke’s expression softened, his hand reaching up to tuck some hair behind your ear as he smiled down at you. “Thank you, Cherry. I appreciate the confidence.”

“Confidence is sexy,” you retorted, your palms warm and comforting against his sides. “Soon you won’t need me to remind you.”

“But I like when you say it,” Luke retorted.

“Professional athletes and their praise kinks,” you sighed, grinning a little when he reached down to pinch your side this time.

“I’m the only professional athlete you know,” Luke pointed out, trying to ignore the twist in his stomach at the mere idea that maybe he wasn’t. That maybe you knew more, that maybe you had experience with more, that maybe they were far more experienced than him and—

“And you have a praise kink,” you said, interrupting his spiralling thoughts. “Therefore, my theory has not been disproved. I’m right.”

Luke’s cheeks burned hot. “I do not have a praise kink.”

You snorted, grinning as you lifted a hand to playfully squeeze his cheeks. “Aw, baby, you do and it’s hot. Don’t get all shy about it.”

“Whatever,” Luke murmured, turning his focus back to the tv instead of the growing smirk on your face.

But the thought lingered in his mind even as the two of you continued to cuddle on the couch, watching whatever movie you had chosen after the All-Stars events ended. It picked at his brain, chipping away at the self-restraint he had to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the night until the two of you were getting ready for bed.

He was lingering by the doorway, watching you get your side of the bed (because apparently that was also something that came easily to the two of you) ready before you climbed into bed. And before he could stop himself, he was already blurting out the words that were on the tip of his tongue for most of the night.

“Do you really think the praise kink thing is hot?”

His cheeks were already blushy and pink and hot when you turned your head to look at him.

“How long have you been wanting to ask that?” You asked, something lighthearted and teasing in your voice that was oddly reassuring. You didn’t think he was a freak for asking. Not that he ever assumed you would judge him, you both were far from that point.

“Does it change your answer?” He asked, not sounding half as confident as he wanted to.

Your smile softened a little as you walked around the bed and towards him. You tilted your head back once you were in front of him, watching him with a look he couldn’t quite work out.

Luke swallowed a little.

“It doesn’t change my answer,” you answered honestly.

Luke could feel something in his chest tighten. “And what’s your answer?”

“I think it’s hot,” you told him, saying it so casually as though the two of you were discussing the weather. “I think everyone has a praise kink to some extent but…”

Luke could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “But?”

“But it’s different with you,” you said, your fingers lightly skimming against his stomach before curling around the hem of his shirt. “You’re so…responsive. It’s hot.”

His body twitched, like his skin was too tight for his body. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, smiling a little before using the grasp on his shirt to tug him closer and close the distance between you both. Not that there was much.

Luke was almost embarrassed by the noise he made the second your lips were on his, your hands fisting the fabric of his shirt as you used the leverage against him. He ducked his head down, trying to chase your lips as you continued to tease him and tempt him. He barely realised his feet were moving until the back of your knees hit the bed and you pulled back to look at him.

“So pretty,” you murmured, close enough to hear the way his breath hitched before you moved down onto the bed, with your grasp on his shirt enough to drag him down with you.

It was far from sexy, if Luke was being honest. An awkward maneuver of too many limbs and shuffling up the bed that should have ruined the moment, but it didn’t. Because it was you and you were laughing and smiling and snorting when Luke almost decked it on top of you after he got his foot stuck. You made it feel so normal. Like it was all just a part of the charm.

Maybe it was. Maybe feeling safe enough to be human and imperfect was a part of the charm.

Because despite the uncoordinated and clumsy scrambling onto the bed, you were still looking at him like you wanted to see how pink his cheeks could turn.

Luke barely put up a fight when you pulled him back down, happily following your movements as he settled between your legs and let you wind your arms around his neck so his nose was brushing against yours before you leaned in to kiss him again.

Unlike a lot of the other makeout sessions the two of you had, there was no rush. There was no lingering adrenaline from a game he wanted to work off or some bad plays he wanted to forget. There were no teasing messages or risky phone calls that were building up to this moment. There was absolutely nothing but just the two of you lying in his bed, making out because you wanted to.

Because you wanted to kiss him and he wanted to kiss you. Because you enjoyed the weight of him on top of you and he enjoyed the way your fingers entangled themselves in his curls. Because for reasons that were beyond his understanding, you wanted this as much as he did.

“Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, his tongue lightly skimming over the area of his bottom lip you nipped with your teeth.

You smiled up at him. “See? So responsive. It’s cute.”

He swallowed. “Cute?”

“Cute, hot, sexy, whatever word you want to use, pretty boy,” you murmured, one hand sliding down to cup his face as your thumb skimmed over the apple of his cheek. “All I know is that I like the noises you make.”

Luke responded by leaning back down, kissing you because he could, because he wanted to, because he liked the way your laugh vibrated against his lips before you kissed back.

But whatever control Luke thought he had on himself when he was with you quickly dwindled as you pulled him closer, letting his body fall on top of you and let your thighs squeeze his sides until he was rocking his hips against yours, until he was practically panting between kisses.

“Mmm,” you hummed, pressing one, two, three pecks against his lips before your lips traced along his cheek and down his jaw. “That’s it, baby. I can feel how much you like this. S’cute how worked up you get just making out.”

“You’re hot,” he gasped out, like it was self-explanatory. Like it justified why he could feel his dick twitching in his sweatpants, probably already making a mess that he would pretend didn’t embarrass him as much as it did.

Your smile was softer, your hand on his face feeling more intimate as you guided his eyes to meet yours. “I think,” you started, your thumb lightly tracing down his cheek and skimming his bottom lip. “You’re hot too. And that you can come like this. Make a mess f’me.”

And fuck, he could.

It wouldn’t be the first time he did, helplessly grinding against you whilst you kissed him and praised him and made his head fucking spin before he was coming harder than he really should be able to from a simple act. He could lean down, press his lips against yours and slide his tongue against yours and feel the way you cling onto him as he comes. He could do it.

But there was a buzzing voice in the back of his head, getting louder and louder until—

“I bought condoms.”

He could see the initial surprise on your face as you processed the words he just blurted out, the eyes locked on his kiss-swollen lips shifting to look up and watch the way he squirmed under the realisation of his words. He watched the way you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes narrowing slightly like you were observing him, keeping on edge until he spoke.

“You bought condoms,” you repeated, trying and failing to keep the smile off your face. “Big plans for this week?”

“I—” Luke’s face burned. “That wasn’t… didn’t mean…I was just—”

“Luke,” you said in a softer voice, your smile faltering a little into something more sincere. “M’only teasing.”

“Okay,” he whispered, a knot twisting in his stomach with every passing second. He swore he was moments away from just exploding out of pure embarrassment or something just as humiliating.

“Breathe for me,” you murmured, smiling a little when he let out a shaky breath. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to. Just because you bought them, doesn’t mean we have to do anything with them just yet.”

Luke swallowed, his whole body thrumming as he replied. “I…I want to.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, his brows furrowing slightly. “Only if you want to, too. Because consent is sexy, you know.”

You laughed a little, both hands now cupping his face so your eyes could meet his. “I do, if you want this. If you’re ready.”

“It is,” he whispered, nodding again. “I trust you, Cherry. I want this. With you.”

“Okay,” you whispered before kissing him again, slow and sure and content.

It made him feel a little less like his skin was shrinking all over his body.

And you kept kissing him until his body didn’t feel so tense, until he didn’t feel like a wooden plank on top of you, until he was relaxed and making those little noises between kisses that let you know he wasn’t as nervous as before.

You kept kissing him as you lightly nudged him back, letting him lean back on his knees until he was straddling your body, giving him enough movement to lean over and scramble through his nightstand until he found the unopened box of condoms.

He tried to tear the plastic covering over the box off, tried to peel it away but his hands were shaking more than he liked and his heart was pounding in his chest and—

“Hey, relax,” you murmured softly, sitting up and taking the box from his hands with little fight from him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled with a sheepish smile. “Nerves, I guess.”

“It’s okay,” you promised. “You know we can stop at any time, just say the word.”

He swallowed harshly. “No, I do—”

“I know,” you smiled. “But I also want you to know that.”

“Only if you do too,” Luke responded, looking completely serious as he said it. “If you want to stop at any moment too, you have to say something too. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this with me because it’s my…first time or whatever.”

“I promise,” you smiled before nudging him back, until he was settled with his back against the headboard and you were on his lap. “Don’t worry about the condoms right now, okay? Just focus on me.”

And Luke did.

Because, in complete honesty, it was very easy to ignore the box of condoms and the bubbling nerves and the growing realisation of what was about to happen. The voice in the back of his head saying ‘oh fuck, this is it’ was barely a whisper when his focus was on you.

It was easy to get lost in the familiarity of you. He was used to this. He was used to you sitting on his lap, straddling his thighs and kissing him senseless. He was used to you dragging your shirt over your head and throwing it to the side. He was used to you tugging his sweatpants down and letting your own follow and guiding his hand between your legs whilst you whispered filthy things against his lips.

He was used to the way you always targeted the spot just behind his ear, blowing cool air until he physically shivered. He was used to the way your eyes fluttered shut when his thumb lightly skimmed across your nipple. He was used to choking out a breathless moan whenever your thumb slid along the slit on the head of his cock. He was used to the way you tugged on his hair when you were close, letting the dull pain throb wonderfully at the base of his skull whilst you pressed your face against his shoulder.

You were right, all those weeks ago back at the start of the season, when you said he needed to build up to this moment. You were right about the different experiences and experiments the two of you had tried and tested over the last few months. You were right when you said it was just like practicing hockey.

It felt a bit fucking poetic and pathetic to compare his sex life to hockey right now, but he got it.

The same nerves that bubbled up before his first NHL game were no different. Because even though he had played hockey his whole life, it still felt nerve-wracking to play in the NHL. And even though he had spent the last few months doing so much with you, it was still kind of daunting to know it was all leading up to this.

But just like his first NHL game, it just felt right.

You felt right.

This whole moment felt right.

Luke knew he was not like his friends or teammates. He had spent years growing up with locker room talk, hearing about random hookups in the backseat of a car or halfhearted blowjobs in a bar bathroom. He heard about one night stands and casual flings and situationships that tended to go sour. He had heard it all and it was unsettling to imagine that was the future waiting for him.

But it wasn’t.

And it felt a bit comforting to know that he never had to look back on this experience and regret the person he was with or where he was or whatever stupid risk it could cause his career. All he had to think about was him and you and the way you were looking just as affected and turned on as he was right now.

“You still sure?” You whispered, soft and comforting and so fucking caring, it made his throat feel a little tight.

“Yeah,” he nodded, smiling a little as he leaned in to kiss you again to emphasise his point. “I trust you. I want this with you.”

You smiled, still looking so fucking genuine before you leaned over to grab the box of condoms, removing the plastic peel with an ease he was only slightly jealous of. He watched you grab a small foil packet, glancing at him every few seconds like you were waiting for him to jump back on his decision.

“I trust you,” he repeated, confident and sure.

His hands laid on your legs as you tore open the foil packet. His hands squeezed the fat of your thighs as you rolled the condom on him, stroking him a few times until he was bucking into your touch. His hands were on your waist, supportive and guiding as you slowly sunk down onto his cock.

“Shit,” Luke breathed out, his breath shaky and gasping. “Shit.”

“I’ve got you,” you whispered, one hand on his shoulder and the other gripping the back of his neck. “I—fuck—I’ve got you.”

The squeeze of your walls around his cock made him want to close his eyes. It made him want to lean back against the headboard, keep his eyes closed and fucking bask in the feeling of you being so warm and tight and intense around him. But the desire to watch the way his cock disappeared into you was stronger, to watch the way your eyes fluttered shut and your lips parted as you settled fully on his lap.

It was fucking memesiring watching the way you slowly lifted your hips and sunk down again. It made him feel like his head was spinning as he watched you continued to move, to sink up and down on his cock, to fuck yourself on his cock and moan his name and look into his eyes and—

“Can I—” He cut himself off, a pathetic and whiny noise leaving his lips when you squeezed around him. “Can I please—”

“Whatever you want,” you murmured, breathless and panting as you leaned in to kiss him like you needed it.

He let himself enjoy the kiss, to enjoy the feeling of being inside you and the weight of you on his lap and your lips on his before he moved. Before he reminded his brain that he can move, that he didn’t have to feel so boneless and helpless, as he shifted until the two of you had rolled over and you were beneath him and—

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, loud and shameless as he hooked an arm under your knee, lifting your leg out of the way enough for him to thrust back in as your head feel back against the pillow. “Shit, yes, like that.”

For a second, it was hard to remember he was even in his own body as he watched you. It was fucking mesmerising as he watched you moan and whine beneath him, as he felt your nails digging into his skin and scratching down his back as you demanded him for more, as you muttered his name between pleas and begs and whimpers.

Luke kind of wished this moment would last forever.

Unfortunately for him, he was utterly weak when it came to you. Because you were pretty and sweet and you felt fucking unreal around him, and you were looking at him like he fucking meant something and—

It was so much. Too much. Just fucking enough.

“I can’t—” He gasped out, his whole body feeling like it was buzzing alive as the knot in his stomach twisted tighter and his thrusts became sloppier. “I’m not gonna last long—”

“Come for me,” you breathed out, your hands cupping his cheeks as you wound your legs around his waist. “C’mon, Luke, wanna feel you come in me.”

And well, he stood no fucking chance lasting after you said that to him.

He could have sworn his ears were ringing when he came. It was intense and overwhelming and disorienting and, fuck, it felt so good. He could feel his muscles tensing, his body rigid and shaking as his orgasm washed over him. He could feel the wave of pleasure rushing through him, leaving every fucking nerve in his body buzzing as he let himself enjoy the way you were squeezing him around him.

He felt like he was on cloud nine when you ran your hands through his curls, your lips against his ear whispering god knows what. But your voice was low and humming and comforting and he could feel his eyes slipping close to enjoy the sound of it.

He could feel you running your hands over his body, feel the way every inch of skin was pressed against you, feel the way your legs were tightening around him like you didn’t want him to move just yet either.

After the rush of adrenaline and pleasure, his body felt syrupy. His movements felt slow and unhurried, his thoughts felt like they were floating away. His brain felt fuzzy and pleased and content to just lay on the bed with you, bask in the feeling a little longer before the grossness and desire to clean up took over.

Luke was more than happy to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, to close his eyes and let out a happy sigh and let himself relax after the really intense last few minutes the two of you had just experienced.

And if Luke was more awake, he would have noticed the way you tensed up the second he spoke. The way your eyes widened, the way your body instantly locked up, the way you went a little pale.

If Luke was more awake, he would have been able to think twice before he spoke.

But Luke wasn’t awake. He fell asleep after muttering the one thought that had been on his mind since New Years.

He closed his eyes and slept like a fucking baby and woke up to an empty bed and an empty apartment and not a single sign of proof of the night before except the marks on his skin and the used condom lying on his bedroom floor.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he had slurred into the crook of your neck, his voice barely louder than a rumble as the sleepiness really hit.

If Luke was more awake, he would have stopped himself from completely fucking everything up.

#luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #luke hughes smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl smut

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bewaryofpity · 7 days ago

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please can I request fluff prompt 16: “Move in with me.” with quinn hughes 💛

thank you for requesting ! 🤍

16. “Move in with me.”

Quinn liked his own space, his own quiet, his own routine — so much so that, right now, he found himself forced to reconsider.

It had been one of those days he couldn’t wait to see end. Bad games, bad practices on the road and he was beating himself up more than he had to because he was part of a team, he wasn’t alone in this. Or at least that was what you told him over the phone. They were simple words, nothing out of the ordinary and nothing you had never said before, but somehow this time it was different. He missed you —your touch, your comfort, his side of your bed, the small space in your closet just for him, his toothbrush next to yours. He missed you.

And when he landed back in Vancouver in the middle of the night, the last thing he wanted was to come back to an empty apartment. A cold bed without you to wrap himself around for warmth, without you kissing his face good morning, a lonely breakfast without you hugging his side— he couldn’t bear that.

Before he could think twice, he was already driving to your place. It was nearly two in the morning, and you were surely asleep, but he couldn’t wait for tomorrow, his heart could never wait for you.

As quiet as possible, he moved around your apartment with ease, scared of waking you up. He was quick, not wasting any more minutes to be close to you and changed into the spare pajamas he kept at your place. Quinn slid between the warm sheets, pulling the comforter up to his chin with a contented sigh. He reached for you, his hand combing through your hair and you nuzzled into him in your sleep.

“Quinn? What time is it?” You hummed, confused and drowsy from sleep.

“It’s me baby, don’t worry.” He whispered.

He lightly traced his fingers down your cheek, watching the way you leaned into his palm, the moonlight casting a delicate glow on you through the blinds. Your eyes fluttered open as he ran his thumb along your lower lip, his fingers trembling slightly, almost hesitant, almost apologetic for waking you up.

“Why’re you here?”

“I missed you.” He said, his voice soft. His hand rubbed soothing circles into the small of your back, so softly, so gentle and so sweet, while you pressed a kiss in the middle of his chest.

“And you couldn’t wait for tomorrow?”

“Nope.”

You let out a breathy laugh as he dragged out the p. “I have the day off tomorrow, well today, we could—”

“Move in with me.” He interrupted. You were wide awake now, taken aback by his words.

You and Quinn haven’t been dating for that long to be thinking about moving in, but it wasn’t something you hadn’t thought about before. You missed him when he was away, not only during roadies, but also when he went to practice or a game or when both of your schedules didn’t align. You thought that the idea of moving in so soon in the relationship was a bold move, but you felt so much better, so much lighter when he was with you. “Yeah, okay.”

You sealed your promise with a small kiss to his lips and, cupping your cheek, he leaned down to kiss you again when you parted, lips curling in a smile. He will get to do this everyday, kiss you, hold you, love you, finally come home to you.

#v day special !#quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #bewaryofpity writes #quinn hughes

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sturnsbae · 2 months ago

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SPIN YOU AROUND - JACK HUGHES

summary: you and jack have been best friends since childhood. you’ve both always had suppressed feelings for one another, but when you suddenly become a country music fan, he finds his chance to actually confess.

warnings: use of y/n & underage drinking, not proofread sorry if there’s typos or mistakes :)

wordcount: 3.4k

—

for as long as you can remember, you’ve been best friends with the hughes brothers.

your moms were best friends in high school, and they always talked about their kids being friends growing up. your mom only ended up having one child, but it worked out perfectly seeing that she had a girl and ellen had three boys. despite her best friend playing it, your mom never cared much for hockey. but ellen made sure to have her sons teach you how to skate and how to understand the game. this led to your winter breaks always being spent playing pond hockey in a 2v2 game against the boys, which you wouldn’t have changed for the world.

you and jack are the same age, and this always made you two closer. maybe it was because you two somehow always ended up with the same elementary school teachers, or the fact that you two have the exact same humor, or maybe the fact that you guys have always had mutual friends. It doesn’t matter; he was your best friend, and you were his. although, you both took very different routes when you turned 18. he went straight to the nhl while you began college at penn state. you’re nineteen now, and so is jack. it’s finally the summer after your first semester, and you haven’t seen the boys since winter break.

as you and your parents enter the front door of your guys’ shared lake house, you smile at the familiar smell of ellen’s homemade cookies. “god it smells good in here!” you exclaim, making your presence known. “hey! you guys made it!” quinn smiles as he walks over from the dining room table towards you guys. being the gentleman that he is, he embraces your mother in a hug before anyone. luke quickly jumps off of the couch and runs over, picking you up slightly as he embraces you in a warm hug. your laughter fills the room as luke puts you down back on your feet.

“i swear, you get taller every time i see you,” you chuckle, making luke roll his eyes with a smile.

“maybe you’re just shrinking, y/n,” he shrugs before walking over to hug your parents. quinn walks over to you with a smile and gently hugs you, unlike his youngest brother. you say your hellos to jim and ellen as your dad and quinn bring in the suitcases. you furrow your brows and turn to luke, “where’s jack?” you ask.

“i think he’s in the shower, he should be out soon though,” luke shrugs before looking back down at his phone with a smile. of course, he’s probably texting a girl from school. you chuckle to yourself before walking to your room to settle in. as you walk past the shared bathroom between you, jack, and luke, you hear the shower running and muffled country music playing through the door.

you begin unpacking your suitcase, your door left open just slightly enough so that you can see the hallway. as you’re unfolding clothes, the sound of the bathroom door opening catches your attention. you look up and see jack walking out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist. clearly, he has no idea that you’re home yet.

you can’t help but stare for a second… when did his back muscles get so toned?

you immediately shake your thoughts and continue unfolding your clothes. about three or so minutes later, there’s a gentle knock on the door. you look up and see jack in the door frame with his usual smirk-like smile.

“thought you could come home and not say hi to me?” he questions, making you roll your eyes and jump off the bed to wrap the boy in a hug. his arms wrap your smaller frame in a tight hug, his body still damp from the shower and the smell of his body wash emitting off of him.

“how’ve you been, dork?” he asks, walking in your room and sprawling out on your bed. you sit down criss cross by his feet, organizing your bikini tops to their matching bottoms.

“i’ve been good! how’s the nhl life?” you tease.

“eh, i’ve been playing alright. i’m kinda offended you haven’t been to a game since my debut, though,” he jokes, raising one eyebrow.

you groan in response, “i know, im sorry. schools been so insane. i have so much to do for my sorority, i have like a million sporting events to go to, and i have so many tests too… i just haven’t found the time. next season ill be at more games, i promise” you smile.

“hey, it’s okay, i’m just messing with you, y/n/n. i know you’re a busy girl, being all studious or whatever,” he chuckles before looking down at his phone. you two then sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes as you finish unpacking.

—

you’ve done a lot of catching up with ellen and jim, all 8 of you sitting in the living room discussing the causal things. your mom and ellen spill their adult-life gossip, as if they don’t talk every day and meet for lunch once a week, while your dads talk about god knows what. you and quinn chirp luke about whoever he’s been texting, while jack is more focused on whatever video game he’s playing on his phone.

“jack, do you think you could go get us some pizza for dinner?” ellen asks, the room going quiet and the attention now falling onto jack.

“ugh, why can’t quinn go!” jack questions. ellen laughs, “you’re the one who insisted on bringing your jeep! you brought your car, which you never let anyone else drive, so now you have the duties of getting us dinner.”

“fine,” he groans before turning to look at you, a hopeful look in his eyes. you sigh loudly and stand up dramatically, “fine, i’ll come with you.” he grins cheesily as he grabs his keys and twirls them in his fingers on the way out to his car.

“can i have aux, pleaseeee,” you beg, making your hands look like you’re praying and giving him puppy dog eyes. he rolls his eyes and hands you his phone, “no stupid shit or ill take it back.”

jack is a country guy through and through, which you’ve never really gotten into, so you two tend to fight a lot about music. of course there are some songs and genres that you two both like, but when you put on some morgan wallen, jack looks at you like you just told him you killed someone.

“what the fuck? you- you’re- you’re willingly playing country music?!” he exclaims as he turns to look at you with a shocked expression. you have a shit eating grin on your face, “yeah, my roommate actually got me into it. i don’t know how, but she did.”

jack feigns a look of sadness, “oh, so some random girl you meet at college can get you into country, but the kid who’s been trying to get you to listen to it for like 12 years can’t?!”

you throw your head back laughing, “hey! in my defense, i was never stuck in a small room for an entire semester of college with you. of course i got her into some taylor swift though, don’t you worry. it’s only fair,” you shrug. he rolls his eyes at you jokingly before mumbling something about how you’re a fake friend, causing you to hit his arm playfully.

—

after dinner passes and the parents settle in for a movie night, you and the boys head outside for the annual first-night fire pit and beers, which started when you and jack were about 17. you and jack grab the s’mores ingredients while luke and quinn set up the fire pit. you take your seat around the fire, with luke and quinn sat across from you and jack on your right. quinn then hands everyone, even luke, a beer, making you chuckle.

“aww, lukeys first beer at the fire pit with us,” you fawn, making everyone laugh. “okay okay shut up,” the younger boy groans, his cheeks turning faintly florid with embarrassment.

“so, mrs party girl, tell us how college has been,” quinn says, roasting his marshmallow to perfection. you blush faintly at the sudden attention, humming a little as you think of what to start with. “well, my sorority is great. i love my roommate too, she’s like my best friend now. no offense jack, you’re still important i swear,” you chuckle, turning to look at jack. he flips you off before letting you continue to talk about your first semester.

“oh and, this shook jack to his core, but my roommate got me into country music. i don’t know how, im seriously convinced she put a spell on me or something, but she succeeded.”

luke’s eyes widen, “you like country now?! you used to swear up and down that you hated it!” he exclaims.

“i know! i know, but somehow she got me into it. or well, at least morgan wallen, that’s it. some country artists music i still can’t stand, i promise,” you laugh.

“i feel like this deserves a toast or something, because now we can finally listen to country on the boat without any complaints from her,” jack teases. everyone holds up their beer and takes a sip, before continuing on with the conversation. about an hour passes and the sun is completely down as you all still laugh loudly, faces illuminated by the orange glow of the fire.

you yawn, snuggling further into your sweatshirt. which is actually one of jacks old sweatshirts from high school. the logo is somewhat faded and cracked now due to how often you wear it, but he doesn’t need to know that. “you tired?” jack asks you, leaning over his chair slightly to talk to you.

you nod slowly, a telltale sign that you’re about to fall asleep. he sets down his beer and stands up, reaching out his hands for you to grab. you sigh and take his hands in yours as he helps you up. “i’m gonna take this one to bed. i can tell she’s had too many beers,” he chuckles.

“i have not!” you protest, your worlds slurred ever so slightly. jack just chuckles and walks you inside as quinn and luke are left to clean up the mess.

“they’re bound to get together one day, right?” luke asks his eldest brother.

“man, i hope so. im tired of this whole, ‘she’s just my best friend’ act. dude is whipped,” quinn shrugs. meanwhile, jack is sitting on the bathroom counter while you take off your makeup.

“you what?!” he exclaims.

“i kissed a random frat guy at a mixer with my sorority. it’s not that big of a deal jack!” you laugh, and jack just shakes his head. honestly, he would be lying if this didn’t make him feel oddly jealous. he’s so used to always knowing the guys that are involved in your love life. like for example, he was there during the alcohol induced game of truth or dare where you were dared to kiss trevor. you guys were 16 and drunk, so of course it never bothered jack. but now, he feels a weird pang of jealousy knowing that you’ve kissed another guy and he’s never even met him.

despite the fact that you’ve never talked to the frat guy since the kiss happened, jack still finds himself laying in bed scrolling through his instagram. “jesus christ, why don’t my abs look like that?” he mumbles to himself, quickly realizing how dumb he must seem right now. he puts his phone down and sighs.

this is gonna be a long summer.

—

the next morning is filled with laughter as the parents cook up breakfast, while you and the boys sit at the table with a deck of cards, playing your favorite game, BS.

“bs!” you call out as quinn puts down his alleged ‘two-fours,’ which you know is false because you literally have three fours in your stack. he groans in defeat as he takes the pile of cards, “you’re too good at this game. it’s no fun playing with you,” he whines, making everyone laugh.

“maybe you’re just a shit liar,” you shrug. as if on queue, the food is placed down in front of you guys as the parents take their seats. you all make your plates, of course the boys grab the most out of everyone. you chuckle looking at the two pancakes and two pieces of bacon on your plate, compared to jacks which has four pancakes and five pieces of bacon, along with a heavy stack of scrambled eggs.

“greedy much?” you chuckle, nudging jack slightly. he flips you off as he stuffs his face with food. a muffled, “i’m a growing boy, i can’t help it!” falls from his lips, making everyone chuckle.

after breakfast is finished, your guys’ parents go out for the day, leaving you all to fend for yourselves for entertainment. quinn suggests going out on the boat for the day, which you all agree with. you head upstairs to your room, slipping on your favorite bikini and grabbing a sweatshirt and sunglasses. you grab a book just incase, but you know that you’re definitely not gonna end up reading it.

“hurry up, y/n!” luke yells, making you groan in annoyance as you close the bedroom door.

“shut up luke, im coming i’m coming,” you say as you walk down the steps. you and luke walk side by side to the dock, where jack and quinn are getting the boat prepared. jack, per usual, demands that he get aux, and you all know better than to argue with him about it.

he queues up his country playlist, as expected. you chuckle a little as you hum a long to a few songs while quinn slowly exits the no-wake zone. about three minutes or so later, quinn speeds up the boat and your hair is flying. laughter escapes your lips as you look over at jack, who’s sitting next to you. “god i’ve missed this!” you say, making him smile and wrap an arm around you slightly.

he rests his head on top of yours, “i’ve missed you,” he says. this type of behavior is normal for you two, so quinn and luke don’t even bat an eyelash.

you guys come to a slow stop before luke throws the large tube out onto the water. him and jack get on it and grab the handles, laying down on their stomachs waiting for quinn to speed up. “everyone ready?” quinn asks, earning a “hell yeah!” and a “hurry up!” from the two boys. he looks at you and nods before speeding up. suddenly, the raft goes flying and they last a whopping twenty seconds before they both let go and belly flop into the water. you and quinn erupt into a fit of laughter, grabbing your stomachs in pain and wiping the tears that are falling.

“holy shit, are you guys okay?!” you ask, still calming your laughter as they climb back onto the boat. jack groans slightly as he rubs his now red stomach, giving you a perfect excuse to stare. you bite the inside of your cheek as he rubs up and down his abs with his hand in an attempt to soothe the pain, blissfully unaware that his entire vline is showing. he fixes his shorts and you quickly look away after you realize you’re staring, and thankfully he doesn’t notice.

“your turn y/n!” he smiles menacingly, and you quickly shake your head.

“absolutely not! personally, i don’t have a death wish today, thanks though!” you exclaim, immediately grabbing your book from your bag. “you’re so lame y/n,” he pouts before sitting down next to you and rubbing a towel in his hair to dry it.

you can’t help but slyly glance at his biceps, when the fuck did he get this hot?

suddenly, ‘spin you around’ by morgan wallen begins playing and you jump up with a smile. “i fucking love this song!” you say, immediately singing along as the words begin playing.

yes, you’re a few white claws in at this point, but you’re also just happy to be with the people you love. you’re dancing around on the boat singing the words, and jack is looking at you like he just fell in love. his smile is big and his eyes are glued to you, watching you dance and sing like a crazy person, yet he’s not judging you. far from it, actually. he thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen, and the fact you’re in a bikini isn’t helping either.

he chuckles to himself and pulls the beer bottle to his lips, admiring the smile on your face and the way your cheeks are flushed from the sun.

—

the house is quiet since everyone is taking a nap or just resting from the long day out. you’re currently sat on the dock, playing some music from your phone and watching the water ripple from the slight breeze. the sun is approaching the horizon and you’re cuddled into the same sweatshirt from last night, the one jack gave you when you were 15.

suddenly, footsteps appear behind you and you turn around to see jack. “you okay?” he asks, sitting down next to you. “yeah, just got bored,” you shrug, turning down the music slightly. he smiles at the sight of you in his sweatshirt.

“watcha thinking about?” he asks.

“everything, really,” you pause. “i mean, isn’t it crazy how you and quinn are in the nhl, im in college, and lukeys already seventeen? i can still vividly remember when we were seventeen spending summers here, and talking about where we would end up for college. you were listing off your offers with no idea that you’d go first overall, while i was stressing about my common app,” you chuckle.

he smiles softly at the memory, “yeah, i miss those days honestly. i kinda wish i got the chance to go to college. it seems fun. maybe one day you can take me to a frat party,” he says before nudging your shoulder with his. you giggle slightly, “frats are gross and dirty, you’d hate it.”

“eh, maybe i would, but at least i get to spend time with you,” he shrugs. your cheeks run hot at his words, was he just being nice or was he flirting? you couldn’t tell, and the moment fell silent.

“i miss you, y/n. i miss living three blocks away from you. its so weird being in different states. and like, now you have all of these friends that i’ve never even heard of before. it’s really weird,” jack admits. your stomach turns with butterflies at his words, and you turn to look at him, praying the heat in your cheeks isn’t visible.

“i miss you too, rowdy. it’s hard being away from my best friend.” he rolls his eyes at the nickname but bites back a smile. as if on queue, spin you around by morgan wallen begins playing through your phone speaker. your face lights up, and jack suddenly gets an idea. “c’mere,” he says, forcing you to stand up. you furrow your brows before suddenly he starts singing along to the words softly, and you follow suit.

jacks heart is racing, but he knows that if he doesn’t confess his feelings soon enough, he’ll never do it. he takes your hands in his and sings along to the lyrics, “well you might tell me ‘boy hell nah,’ but hell what can hurt?”

you giggle as he takes your hands and spins you while singing, “cause i just wanna spin you ‘round, and ‘round this dance floor, get you drunk on a love like mine… might wind up and steal a couple kisses…” the rest of the words that jack sings along to fade as your heart thumps in your chest. he spins you gently around and then pulls you into his chest, looking down at you.

“cause the way you stole my heart without a sign, girl it outta be a crime,” he says softly. you’re wrapped in his arms looking up at him, a soft smile plastered on your lips and a heavy blush on your cheeks. “is it bad that i really want to kiss you?” you whisper, and jack grins like the happiest man on earth.

“i’ve wanted to kiss you for as long as i’ve known you,” jack quietly replies, his hands finding their way to the small of your back.

as the sky is painted with faint hints of pink and gold, jacks lips find yours for the first time in nineteen years.

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fanfic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes one shot #quinn hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl

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sc0tters · 21 days ago

Text

Loved You Forever | Luke Hughes

summary: four times you and luke knew you both wanted more, the one time a move was made, and the one time you both actually remembered it.

request: yes/no

warnings: underaged drinking (if you're american), minimal swearing.

word count: 6.16k

authors note: happy February loves! I realised that this might have been a better valentines day piece but too late? I am actually in love with this piece though and it was seriosuly so much fun to do another 5+1 thing and I'm pretty sure that this is my first proper attempt at it. I am nothing but a slut for best friends to lovers with Luke! After the loss tonight I think we all deserved something sweet so I also think this might be one of my first attempts at tooth rooting of sweet?

Luke had been in your life for as long as you could have remembered.

The two of you met during a day at the park, you had been desperate to be on the seesaw but as your siblings got caught up with Jack and Quinn it left you alone, sat on the one side all by yourself “can I join?” Luke asked pointing at the seat that was in the air.

A grin spread across your face “you wanna sit with me?” You asked almost not believing him “yeah you seem sad.” It seemed that it was all it took for your friendship to be formed.

Hours were spend on that seesaw over the autumn months as you got to know him. You were no longer the sad lonely girl to him, now you were the fun and chatty one who had a dog.

𝟏

You had been a bundle of nerves the entire week.

In the week leading up to prom your dress was in need of alterations and your date had decided that going with the captain of the cheer team was far better suited to his taste than you. Your curling iron had also decided the morning of prom that it was going to stop working.

So while you felt like the world was against you, Luke decided to step him. He had gotten Ellen to drop off a brand new one courtesy of him of course, with a note saying that he couldn’t want to see you that night.

The moment that he learnt about you no longer having a date he changed his own plans, well first he actually did a happy dance because now you were single which he appreciated. But then he told the hockey boys that he was breaking from the pact of going as a group. At first they all gave him stick, but when they learnt it was for you they understood.

Because even if you were totally off limits and so clearly Luke’s girl, they all had eyes as a hormonal teen boy. And you were a total package.

So that was how Luke ended up on what was a date but didn’t feel like it because he felt like your second choice, even if he had never been the one to ask you in the first place. Gosh he had seen all of the cringey proposals online but he knew you would have loved one of those. Something to laugh about afterwards that could be cherished as a memory forever.

Jim placed his hand on Luke’s shoulder pulling him out of this thoughts “you okay bud?” He asked cocking his head as he furrowed his eyebrows “I’m good.” Luke nodded “just worried about the time.” It was a lie but it was enough to take the attention off of him and his thoughts.

Your mom looked at her watch “y/n are you coming down anytime soon!” She called up the stairs fearing that you’d end up late and miss the limo that your friends had arranged after pictures.

You turned down your music as you rolled your eyes. In your opinion you weren’t late, just pulling everything out of your drawers because you couldn’t find the perfect earrings to go with your dress “yeah, yeah I’ll be down there!” You yelled back focusing on what you were doing.

Luke stood between his parents and yours “sorry about her.” Your mom apologised as she softly shook her head, knowing that this was how you were “it’s okay I mean she’s.” Luke was lucky he was cut off because it meant that he didn’t have to come up with an end to his statement.

“I’m ready!” Your words traveled down to the group causing all of their heads to turn to your bedroom door. You were right by the top of the staircase so there wasn’t much of a walk for you before your dress was revealed in all its glory “wow.” Luke thought he had said it softly enough for nobody to hear. But the smile on Jim’s face said it all, he knew his son was in love as he watched you twirl all excited for him to finally see the dress.

The red dress hugged every part of your body that you wanted it to. And now with the alterations your slit showed the right amount of leg, it was enough to look hot but not enough to the point where the dress wouldn’t have been appropriate for a high school prom.

Luke felt his throat grow dry seeing you at the top of the stairs, with a smile painted on your face. You looked gorgeous, in every sense of the word as you radiated this glow that encapsulated your body.

His hands grew sweaty, gripping at your corsages packaging. Watching you walk down the stairs, the sounds of your mom in awe with your dad taking pictures turned to background noise. Luke couldn’t understand how you were panicking about your hairstyle to him at lunch all week, because it seemed like it was made for you.

You stopped on the final step holding your hand out to Luke, enjoying the moment of him in his navy blue suit. It was easy to see that he had just had his hair cut, but you weren’t going to make a comment about it as you appreciated the effort.

Sure you wouldn’t have cared if Luke showed up in jeans and his crocs, but he knew how important the night was to you so he made it important to him. His hand was soft against yours as he helped you down the final step “you look-” he cut himself off, opting to take the chance to bask in your beauty once more.

It made you rub your lips together nodding in agreement “you too.” The sight made Ellen place her hand on her heart. Her youngest son here stood tall and all cleaned up, in front of the girl that his parents wished he’d date.

Luke let out a soft gasp remembering that he was still holding your corsage “this is yours.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously, hoping you’d like it “it’s so pretty Lukey.” You held the plastic container in your hands pulling out the pink arrangement.

You handed it back to him “put it on f’me will ya?” You asked watching him nod “sure.” He obliged your request seeing how pretty it looked with your manicured nails.

Your eyes shone looking at it “it’s perfect.” You confessed leaning up to kiss his cheeks “thanks, Lukey.” You gave his arms a squeeze before you settled back in front of him.

He prayed his cheeks didn’t betray him as they felt warm “anytime.” Luke honestly would have done anything to bring that smile out and for you to kiss his cheeks again. Even as he hoped he’d be lucky to kiss you properly one day, he prayed that this wasn’t the last time he’d get to feel one of your kisses.

𝟐

Your high school graduation was not what you expected it to be. Sure you expected to be a little emotional leaving the place that had helped shape you into the person you were set to become. It was the place where Luke cemented his life long place as your best friend.

You held your diploma in your hand as you searched through the crowd for him “y/n!” Luke cheered causing you to whip around.

His smile matched yours as you let out a squeal before you ran into his arms. You almost knocked him over as you laughed “someone’s excited ‘eh?” He let out a soft laugh settling you back on your feet.

He had spent a portion of his afternoon wishing he told you how pretty you looked “I mean how can I not be we have like properly graduated.” If you looked back at the memory now you would have laughed, you felt so prepared for the big world when in actuality you were still so young with so much more growing to do.

Luke smiled “I mean we always knew you were going to.” Brains had always been your thing, much more than Lukes at least.

You looked at the athletics band around his shoulders “and you got this.” You toyed with the ends of it in your hands “I think we both should be proud today.” You had succeeded in your own fields, reminding each other why you did so well as friends because you were so different.

Luke could see that something else was on your mind “what is it?” He asked, seeing that there was a glimmer of excitement like you were trying to hold back a bomb of importance. You felt like a child who had been trying their best to hold off on telling the secret they promised their parents that they would keep to themselves.

You pulled the grad cap off of your head as you took in a deep breath “remember how I told you that I wasn’t sure where I was going because of those scholarship applications?” You were the more academically inclined out of the two of you, to the extent that you did have a good chance to get some scholarships.

This was why you hadn’t decided where exactly you were going, so Luke hadn’t been told of any of the places that had accepted you. This was the first and last time that you were ever going to be holding a secret from him, the last few weeks felt like your very own definition of torture “so you remember how we applied to some of the same schools?” You asked, reminding him that three schools appeared on both of your lists.

He nodded, raising his eyebrows and urging you to continue, “well one of those schools was UMich, and I got in.” Luke let out a gasp, knowing exactly where this conversation was about to go “yes?” He urged you to carry on so he didn’t celebrate prematurely.

You rubbed your lips together “well how do you feel about getting an apartment roomie?” It had been a conversation since you were both eight years old, if you went to uni together, then you were going to be roommates to some degree.

Luke finally allowed himself to cheer as he pulled you into a hug. He spun you around as he let himself celebrate the news “I can’t believe that we are staying together.” He was honestly in shock as he finally placed you back on the ground.

In the distance stood your mom and Ellen, who watched the interaction unfold in front of them “I wonder if this is what they need to take a step forward.” Everyone but the two of you knew about the undeniable feelings between you both. They knew it was asking for a lot, though, because you two had been around each other for so long that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be and maybe that was okay.

Ellen smiled as she watched Luke grab your hand before he pulled you into a group of people “I think that maybe they are only going to be friends.” She let out a sigh as the words left her lips. Boy did she hope that the two of you proved her wrong.

𝟑

Luke had yet to come down from the high that was being drafted to the same team as Jack. He was absolutely ecstatic and having you there too was the perfect moment for him. His family had all come along and they mixed with his friends, every one of his supporters were in that room.

He almost got emotional when he thought about it because none of you had to come, not to the bar afterwards and not to the draft itself either. But when his name was called by the New Jersey Devils Luke just remembered pulling you into this hug as Jack hit his back in excitement.

You were his absolute best friend and world so it was never a surprise that Luke hugged you first but still fans had been going on about how Luke basically blanked his future teammate at first. People who followed Luke’s days at Michigan knew who you were, if someone listened to Luke talk for long enough you were brought up in a conversation. And it wasn’t that it was weird for him but it was because you did everything with him so away from the ice, you were attached to every memory.

But for the people who hadn’t paid attention, you were the mystery girlfriend in their eyes. So you were also now the new target of everyone’s Instagram searches. Their comments to you saying they wished they were Luke’s girlfriend made you laugh, because you felt the same way. His name had been circled with hearts in the corners of your notebook pages. They were left in the math and English books because you knew that was where Luke would never have looked.

Luke would never have admitted it aloud but he knew whenever you weren’t in a room. The sound of your laugh burning at his ears, how you seemed to radiate this sense of light and warmth that could be felt through the room. He had been caught up in a conversation with his parents friends when he had lost that feeling.

It was clear to them that Luke had his mind somewhere else, or well they knew it was with someone else so they let him go. You were nowhere to be seen as his eyes scanned the crowded bar “she’s out front I think Lukey!” Jack slurred his words clearly drunk but still knowing all too predictable his younger brother was.

Luke felt his cheeks grow warm as his eyes went wide “relax dude, just go to her.” Jack laughed as he rolled his eyes, not caring about it before he went off again.

He tried to make it subtle to anyone who watched but Luke headed straight for the door where he of course found you. You were still in his devils cap as he put it on you when he finished his media interviews. An awful attempt at a joke was made when he said that you could be a player now too.

It looked so good on you as he smiled “there you are.” It was like a weight off of his shoulders when he found you.

You were in your own little world before you looked at him “shouldn’t you be inside?” You asked as you cocked your head “this is a party for you after all.” Luke rolled his eyes, turning the cap around so that he could see your face not covered by the lid of the cap.

He leaned against the wall next to you “I wanted to be with you though.” You blushed at the words, your hand reached for his “I just wanted a bit of air is all.” You explained putting his mind at ease as he had worried that you were overwhelmed.

You licked your lips “I’m proud of you tonight.” The confession made his ears ring as his head felt fuzzy “all I did was get drafted.” Luke always was one to downplay his achievements, but you never let him succeed.

A laugh escaped from you lips “Lukey you were drafted fourth and to your brothers team.” You reminded him in a duh tone “you’re actually gonna be an NHL player now.” It had been his dream for as long as he could speak, from the moment you turned seven it even had a space on your vision board cementing itself in the right hand corner. That’s how much you knew he was getting into the big leagues.

Luke looked up at the night sky before he let out a sigh “god everything is going to change isn’t it?” He chewed at the inside of his cheek feeling your eyes piercing into his soul.

The words echoed in your ears as you pushed off of the wall before you stood in front of him. Things didn’t need to change, in fact you didn’t want them to.

You smiled as you held your pinky out to him “what is this?” He asked mimicking your movements “a promise that I will always be with you.” Your voice was sweet as you nodded.

Luke knew he was wrong but part of him thought about how beautiful you looked in the light, how kissable your lips looked too “forever and ever?” Luke cocked his head letting a grin spread across his lips.

Your heart throbbed at the thought, you wanted Luke around for all that time and more “forever and ever.” You agreed locking your pinky into his before you both kissed your thumbs.

The gesture seemed small but it was something that you both could agree on. For you and Luke, it meant that the promise was written in the stars as if you had written it on sand. With every passing wave that came in with the tide, the message still stood.

𝟒

Luke hated the fact that he was leaving soon. He knew that his time with you at university was always going to have an expiration date, but he never thought it was going to come so soon.

You two spent all of your life together, often moving within six months of the other. So now if he really was leaving you then it felt like this was the last time.

Your paths had always been one of the same, with both of you never straying far away from the other. Luke had gotten so used to you being around that the only person who he was worried about leaving was you.

Life had always been the y/n and Luke party that he didn’t know how you were going to react if he left you “what’s going on in that mind of yours?” You asked finding him sat by himself.

He smiled seeing you stumble in his direction “I am just thinking.” He confessed watching you sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

A giggle escaped from your lips “ain’t that dangerous.” Those words made him scoff as his eyebrows furrowed.

You seemed so care free in that moment, it made him envy you. How did it all seem so easy for you as he felt like his head was barely above water, drowning with worry “I am kidding.” You rubbed his cheek against your thumb “what are you thinking about?” You asked urging him to let you into his thoughts.

Your hand squeezed his cheek reminding him that you were there for him “what if I don’t make the right call going.” Luke felt that a weight was lifted off of his shoulders letting that confession slip “I think that the universe is going to put you in the best position for you long term.” You truly believed that everything happened for a reason, so if the agent did come and ask Luke to join the devils like you knew they would, then it was the right thing for him.

It seemed that you always knew what to say to him “and what do you think I should do-” Luke hugged you not taking a chance to let him finish “you are going.” You stopped him from trying to hug you.

He raised his eyebrows “I am?” Your tone made him think you were going to be forcing him onto that plane if you had to.

Luke ran his fingers through your hair “y’know I’m happy that you’re going.” Your confession made him furrow his eyebrows “you are?” He cocked his head as he had of course told you all about the possibility of being signed the moment he learnt the agents were coming to Florida.

You nodded sending him a smile “I mean this had been your dream like forever and Jack will be happy to have you there.” Your explanation calmed his heart, practically brushing the worries from his mind “and how do you feel about it?” The two of you were feeling a little more open tonight as you had a bit too much vodka sprite in your system to think clearly.

A sigh escaped your lips “honestly I’m gonna miss you.” It was the first time you actually admitted that “but it makes me so happy that you get to live out your dream.” Your hand ran along his shoulder.

A smile formed on his face “I love you.” He blurted out unaware of the ramifications it could have had “I love you too.” You mumbled kissing his cheek.

Luke frowned knowing that you didn’t acknowledge what he meant, he was in love with you.

𝟓

Christmas with the Hughes family was something that you had always loved. It seemed to be a family tradition for you too as you always seemed to crack a nod to the event.

Selfishly you loved that it was in Michigan, the short drive from campus meant that it was where you spent the first half of your Christmas break. Your parents came down to them and then brought you back home afterwards and it was the perfect little routine.

This Christmas felt particularly refreshing as you had missed Luke, it was the first Christmas since he made the move to New Jersey and it meant that you two were forced to pack everything into the days he had off. Years of perfectly crafted Christmas traditions forced into three days that you usually put into two weeks.

The days felt jam packed not that you or Luke cared, the only time you weren’t with each other was when you went to the bathroom. Nights he had home were spent talking to you until the sun played peek a boo in the curtains.

Christmas night was by far your favourite highlight though, matching sweaters with Luke and eating so much that you were in a food coma. But this year something felt different, you couldn’t put your finger on it and part of you didn’t want to acknowledge it.

You were never one to push out of your comforts and you just assumed that Luke would share the details of his life if he wanted to “will you excuse me for just a sec?” You asked cutting off one of Quinn’s old friends as you saw Luke heading up the stairs.

The boy shot you a smile and motioned to you to go. Nobody ever needed to look hard into the relationship, you looked at Luke like he was the man who made the moon and the stars that sprinkled around the universe. It may not have been the case but he was the light of your universe and the stars of your eyes.

Jack and Quinn couldn’t help but watch, softly elbowing each other as they knew it was only you and Luke up there “think they’re finally gonna do it?” Jack asked sipping at the eggnog from his cup.

Quinn pursed his lips together “I think it’s been a little too long for that.” The captain craved to be proven wrong, this was probably the first and the last time he touch of that really.

You saw Luke on his phone “hey,” your voice was soft wanting to check up on him “oh hi.” Luke smiled turning around to see you.

His phone got tucked into his back pocket “thought you were going to still be downstairs.” He added, having had watched you talk away with that boy most of the recent hour.

But you shook your head “I wanted to check on up on you.” The act was something meant to be innocent, like it always was. Because you cared for him, this was the what you were meant to do, and what you had always done.

It made him smile “look if you want a quiet day tom-” you were almost immediately cut off “I actually just want to spend time with you alone.” Luke explained making your heart feel so full.

You loved the way that he had with words even if you envied him, it made it so much easier falling in love with him “so you wanna stay up here for a bit?” The request made you nod, taking his hand with a squeeze as the two of you took the three step walk to his room.

His door opened letting the mistletoe drop from the frame that was only seen when the lights turned on, causing your eyes to go wide “shit.” Luke grumbled as it sat between the two of you. It was like a sign from the universe, begging for one of you to put it out of its misery.

The mistletoe stood above the two of you, shining like it was sent from the gods to put you both out of your misery “we don’t have to.” Luke felt his jaw go slack, not wanting to make you uncomfortable as you stared up at the leaf fixture “Jack thought it was funny to put it there.” He added remembering how he was actually planning on removing it the night before.

Oh how different that night would have turned out if he had.

A dry laugh left your lips “who are we to go against an age old tradition?” You asked letting your eyes lock onto his “are you sure?” Luke studied how plump your lips were and god he just wanted to kiss them.

You ran your fingers over the knitted fabric that was your Christmas sweater “I feel like I should be asking you that?” You shot back slightly raising your eyebrows as you felt that he was trying to tell you something in a softer way.

Oh god no, he thought to himself shaking his head “I do wanna kiss you!” The panic escaped in his voice, doing little to help his nerves as his heart and mouth betrayed his brain “but only if you want to kiss me too.” The boy straightened his shirt with a cough attempting to block the embarrassment that came over his cheeks.

You smiled with a nod “I wanna kiss you Lukey.” Your head buzzed as you drunk one too many vodka cranberries that night.

His hand cupped your cheek as he nodded “and we agree that this won’t make anything awkward right?” His words made you roll your eyes. Sure you knew he was being cautious and you should have appreciated how much he cared for your feelings, but god you just wanted to kiss him.

So that’s what you did, you wrapped your arms around his neck so that you could bring him down to you. The move took the boy by surprise as he steadied himself placing his other hand on your hip. His lips were rough against yours, reminding you that you needed to buy him a chapstick he’d actually like.

Luke always knew that your lips were going to taste good, but he never could have predicted that you could have taste that sweet. It caused this buzzing sense in his head that only stopped when you pulled away just as the sound of footsteps came from the stairs “oh good mom you found it!” Quinn called out going back downstairs.

You drank in the sight of Luke, your lip gloss shone on his lips as he fiddled with his hair “I guess we should go back down?” Luke asked with a shrug as you nodded “maybe just-” you brought your thumb to his lip. Brushing your finger against his lip to collect the product from his lips “there.” You took a step back with a smile seeing that there was now no evidence of the fact that you had kissed him.

The only issue with this kiss was that neither one of you would remember it. Well you both it, but because it was what you had longed for, it felt like a dream. And with the fear of rejection creeping up your neck like an uncontrollable rash, it was best to keep it all to yourselves.

Because after all how does one ask someone if they really did kiss last night?

+𝟏

The crackling noises of the burning wood echoed in your ears as you stared at the campfire “you should talk to her.” Quinn’s voice was soft, somehow still startling Luke who stood by the cooler.

His hand gripped at the new beer can “why would I do that?” Luke asked, adjusting his gaze to make out that he wasn’t looking at you “are we seriously going to do this again?” Quinn couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

He had spent what felt like Luke’s whole life watching the both of you dance around your feelings. Luke’s lips turned upright into a smile at the sound of your laughter, which made his heart bloom with joy, but that was short-lived when he saw Jack being the cause of what you found so funny.

Luke’s lips were quickly forced into a thin line as his hand tightened around his drink “Luke, Jack is the last guy that she would ever go for.” Quinn reminded his brother, placing his hand on his taller brothers back.

It made the Devils player furrow his eyebrows “you don’t know that.” Everyone in fact knew that, Jack was the kind of man that you would have ended up killing if you had to live with him for the rest of your life. Hell even Luke knew it, but he was willing to forget about the logic. He never seemed ready to acknowledge that there was a chance you could like him back.

A whine escaped your lips “y’know lying is just mean right?” You sunk back into your chair “yeah well I ain’t lying.” Jack shot back rolling his eyes.

You clearly didn’t believe the boy as your arms crossed “fine look at them right now and if he isn’t then I will shut up.” Jack clasped his hands together as if a lightbulb had turned on above him. You sighed sending him a nod as you turned your body back to the porch, allowing your eyes to scan the area for Luke. The boy cut himself off in the conversation with Quinn when your eyes locked with his “this means nothing.” You mumbled still in denial.

It honestly should have been so obvious to you both, I mean everyone around you both noticed but the two of you.

The night carried on with you trying to ignore Jacks comments as Luke did the same. Cole let out a yawn as he blinked “I think it is time for bed.” He announced placing his hands in his thighs as he got up watching a few of the guys agree with him.

As the last two besides for you and Luke, Quinn patted Jacks shoulders “why don’t we head up to bed too?” He asked, barely giving his younger brother a chance to say no. Jack was pulled up as he sent you both a salute “don’t stay up too la-” his tease was cut off when Quinn slapped his hand over Jacks mouth.

Luke watched Quinn and Jack walk back into the house before he turned back to see you smiling at him “what?” Luke asked pushing his curls out of his eyes.

He worried that he had something on his face “why don’t you come sit with me?” You offered, patting the camping chair next to you. It felt weird having him sat on what felt like the other side of the fire, he was way too far away from you for your own liking “do I have to?” Luke let out this dramatic sigh letting you know he was messing with you as he got up.

It was nice just being alone with him away from just your bedroom. Since he moved to New Jersey you really did appreciate the one on one time that you got with him “I’m glad you came this year.” Luke confessed finally taking his place in the chair next to you.

You rested your head against the back of your chair “I’ll always come for you.” Your hand reached for his wanting to reassure him “unfortunately for you the return policy on this friendship is long expired so you’re like really stuck with me.” You spoke in a serious tone that made him laugh.

Luke squeezed your hand “darn I was just figuring out how to write my reason for returning ya.” You reached out to hit him “and what was that going to be?” You cocked your head running your tongue along your teeth as you smirked.

He felt his heart pound sitting closer to you “don’t think it makes a lot of sense yet.” Luke shook his head, not having an actual answer for you.

The crackle of the fire served as the perfect background noise “well you’ve got to speak now or else you might really be stuck with me.” You pointed out sticking your tongue out at him making the boy grin as he shook his head.

Truthfully he was never going to return you, hell it was going to have to be you returning him if anything. Even then he was not going to leave you without a fight to stay.

Luke ran his fingers along your jaw “I think coming to Jersey would be good for you.” He knew it was one of your options for what you’d do after you graduated “oh god are we gonna be those friends who end up living next to each other and raise their kids together?” You laughed opting to cover the nerves that coarsed through your veins.

It made the boy shake his head “can I tell you something?” He asked sucking at his teeth “you know you can tell me anything.” You nodded ignoring how close your face was to his.

Luke could hear Jack and Quinn in his mind screaming at him to finally stop being such a baby and just tell you how he felt “and it can’t change our friendship.” You now grew worried at words “you’re scaring me.” That was also what Luke didn’t want.

So before he dug himself into a hole he just decided to jump off of the decision cliff he was on “I like you.” The words escaped from his lips “so when you talk about us living next to each other with our families it’s not nice.” He shook his head watching you listen.

But he didn’t stop there “and it kills me that you don’t feel the same-””you think I don’t like you?” You asked letting out a laugh as he nodded.

You threw your head back shaking your head “oh god Luke I’m mad about you.” The words were meant to be innocent but they lit a fire under his ass “but then why do you talk about us raising separate families together?” Luke scoffed almost thinking that this was a dream and you were joking.

But still it was your turn to explain to him “I thought that it was all I’d get.” You shrugged feeling your cheeks grow warm.

Under the moonlight as the fire illuminated your face, you looked beautiful “can I kiss you?” The question was something you had wanted to hear for such a long time now “yeah.” You nodded with a grin dropping your head as he cupped your cheek so that you could kiss him.

The kiss had you swearing that fireworks should have been going off around you guys. The boy was sweet letting the taste of whatever lipgloss you wore make him feel drunk. Was it vanilla? Or maybe even cherry? Well he didn’t really care, it taste good and he was getting to kiss you.

Jack and Quinn stood in the kitchen watching with smiles on their faces “who would have thought that it would take them this long to finally get together?” He laughed shaking his head “I am just glad that we don’t have to put up with another summer of these two and their puppy dog glances.” Quinn shuddered at the thought, mentally cringing at the idea of having to listen to Luke psych himself out of telling you how he felt.

But what both boys forgot, was that when you have been in love with someone for so long, when you finally get them you enjoy it “oh god.” Jack slapped his hand over his mouth watching Luke pull you onto his lap.

His hands cupped your ass, deepening the kiss as you were addictive to Luke “and just like that it got weird.” Quinn announced listening to Jack agree as they shut the blind of the kitchen window, opting to finally give you both some privacy.

#amber writes fics #luke hughes oneshots #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fanfic #nhl one shot #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagines #hockey one shots #hockey fic #hockey oneshot

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oraltraditionfiction · 1 month ago

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We listen and we don’t judge | QH43

Quinn Hughes x f! reader (fluff)

Summary: You and Quinn do the We Listen and We Don't Judge challenge.

WC: 453

Author's Note: Tbh we're not really on tiktok, but we thought this was a cute idea!! This is my first ever fic/blurb/piece of fanfiction so I would love to hear any feedback :-) Enjoy! - 🐇

You set the camera up on the kitchen counter, swiping under your eyes before backing up to Quinn.

“Ok! Are we ready?” You say, clapping your hands together. Quinn nods, arms slung around you and an indulgent smile on his face.

“This is the weird habits thing from TikTok, right?”

You nod, laughing, as you lean forward and press play.

“We listen and we don’t judge!” You say as you spread your hands theatrically, Quinn only jumping in halfway through the sentence.

You side eye the man next to you, leaning in close to the camera, “Sometimes,” a conspiratorial whisper, “I cheer for the Bruins when you aren’t home.”

Quinn drops his arms from around you, and turns towards you wide eyed, “Babe, that’s practically treason… they’ll kill you…” you laugh and shove him lightly, a finger in front of your mouth to mime secrecy.

“Ok your turn!” you push him forward.

“We listen and we don’t judge!” said together.

He chuckles, rubbing his neck, “Sometimes I use your face towel as a hand towel” You whirl towards him in shock, hitting his arm with the back of your hand.

“Quinn! I have acne because of you!” He dodges your playful hits, laughing at your mock outraged face.

Through giggles you spit out, “Sometimes I dog-ear our book pages because you lost all of our cute bookmarks.”

“Oh my god, babe, find a receipt or some shit. They don’t have to be cute” Quinn puts his head in his hands, heaving out a dramatic sigh. You laugh, tugging his hands away from his face as he thinks of his next one.

“One time I put your favorite bra in the dryer and it got ruined and instead of telling you I just bought a new one”

You gasp, actually floored. “You told me that I had probably just missed that tag! I can’t believe you!”

Faking indignation you turn away from him and say, “Sometimes I don’t wash our fruit before we eat it”

“You’re going to actually give us brain worms. Oh my god, babe… we could have brain worms right now.” He says hand over his mouth, your laughter ringing out across the kitchen.

Quinn wraps his arms around you, holding you close, “Sometimes when you aren’t here, I don’t use coasters.” You gasp, turning in his hold. He laughs as you begin gesticulating wildly,

“Quinn, that is so bad for the wood!” You begin lecturing him, saying that his apartment is much too nice for moisture rings to be on his nice wooden coffee table. He buries his face in your neck, smothering his laughter so he can listen attentively to your voice.

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bratbarzal · 2 months ago

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Let It Happen (LH43) 3/3

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

WC: 17k

>PART ONE< / >PART TWO<

I'll spare you from everything, if you would still have me, I'll be waiting all my life

General Warnings: pining and longing and fluff galore!!! I think maybe sexual references but who remembers atp. angst (slut shaming, mentions of past relationships and I can't think of a better way to say daddy issues we've all been there)

A/N: we did it, Joe!!!! desktop tumblr really didn't want this to happen!!! I can't believe I finished this!! thank you guys so much for reading, and liking, and messaging me and reblogging and all the commentary, and all the love!!! I appreciate it so much!!

if there is a crossover of readers of on your side and readers of this fic (first of all ily) there is a little oys easter egg in here!! did I think through the logistics of this being set in the same universe? no. did I have fun anyway? yes. I fell in love with writing Luke in that fic so it was only right for me to add it in here!!

Happy New Year to everyone, thank you for reading my work!! 2024 was the year I finally plucked up the courage to write all my random thoughts down and the fact that it spiralled into this blows my mind a bit, but I'm grateful to be here!!

You can distinctly remember the first time you had properly taken notice of Luke Hughes, and it wasn’t back in the restaurant at the club like he probably thinks.

It had been early November, in your freshman year.

Ellie had finally convinced you to join her at one of the games at Yost, and you were bundled up in a coat two sizes too big, the only thing you had remotely close to team colours, and the only thing likely to keep you warm enough to tolerate a whole game and warm-ups.

You were watching the boys skate around, and he had caught your eye in an instant.

“Who’s that one?” You had asked, pointing down to where number 43 was reaching out awkwardly to sweep up pucks with his stick. You could see the soft brown curls peaking out the back of his helmet from all the way in the stands, and his height made it unmistakable to realise that you recognised him.

He had come up to you at a Halloween party the week before, and if you hadn’t been so preoccupied by the fact that your only-just-ex boyfriend at the time was in the same room, his tongue down another girl’s throat, you might have been endeared by the boy in the dog costume.

Friendly smile, boyishly handsome features and warm eyes that under any other circumstances might have made your heart skip a beat. It wasn’t the first time you had seen him - you vaguely remembered the gift basket, and you knew he was in a couple of your classes, but you had never really spared him more than a fleeting glance before that party.

As soon as he had noticed your teary eyes upon approach, his demeanour had changed in an instant, and where anyone else might have backed off, might have been uncomfortable or deterred, done a u-turn and given up on his mission to approach, his expression had softened - worried and caring in a way that made your throat go dry, and you had to dash off to the nearest bathroom to splash your tears away.

“That’s Luke,” Ellie had told you, “Luke Hughes, Jack’s brother.”

“Oh,” You had pouted, disappointed. Jack had made it painfully obvious that he wasn’t your biggest fan the first time you had met him, and if you’re honest, you were hardly a great admirer of his, either.

Ellie had noticed your expression, had nudged you with her elbow until you took your eyes off of the figure on the ice, and had narrowed her eyes right at you. “Why?”

“He’s in a couple of my classes, is all,” you shrugged, eyes travelling back and finding him in an instant.

“Luke’s cool. You’d eat him alive, though, probably get bored within a week.”

“I wasn’t thinking about him like that,” you frowned, watching him skate around the ice with the grace and enthusiasm of a clumsy puppy dog. Cute. “Just curious.”

“He’s waaaay too nice for you,” she scoffed, and you had tried to swallow down the pang of offence you had felt, knowing she had very little of your past to compare him to. The two of you had only been roommates for a couple of months at that point, and she had only ever seen you interested in your ex. “He’s also kind of a like a little brother to me. Dorky and annoying, but I’m very protective of him.”

You had bit your tongue at how patronising that had sounded, knowing Ellie was one of the youngest people of your freshman class - a July baby - and Luke might even have been older than her.

“Like I said, just curious.”

You had noticed Luke a lot more after that, though.

A quiet, recurring presence.

A seat behind you in business comms, a figure against the wall in the corner of the room at different parties, on posters that lined the walls and the perimeter of Yost Arena, in articles you edited for extra credit in the Michigan Daily.

You had even made small efforts to get him to talk to you - never being the type to make the first move, yourself - started talking to his friends, some of the guys on the hockey team, had made sure his name was on the list for your sorority parties, you’d even dropped your pen once in class, and he’d just handed it back over with a soft smile, never uttering a word.

You wouldn’t call it a crush, but it was somewhere around the borderline of that - especially looking back after the summer you shared with him.

And you think, in retrospect, that if he’d have ever made a move, would have spoken to you even just once after the incident at the Halloween party, you probably would have developed one.

You hate to admit it, now, but he had been right all those weeks ago in the restaurant.

He’s kind of inevitable like that.

By the time he disappeared in your sophomore year that little spark of something had mostly fizzled out, but it didn’t entirely stop you unintentionally keeping tabs. Stats that cropped up on the sports channels, articles in the paper, posts on your instagram feed.

And you don’t know what you would call it, the way he kind of stuck with you, but when you’d seen him in that booth in the beginning of summer - when he’d spoken to you in full sentences, had met your eye and held contact in a way that sucked you in like a vacuum - you kind of felt that spark reignite.

The boy you almost, kind of, could have known, once upon a time, finally making the effort to get to know you.

And Luke Hughes is persistent. You have a detached admiration for just how much. He pushes, and he presses, and he perseveres until all your resolve is gone - resolve you’ve spent years mastering, with quick wit and snark protecting your heart from anyone who dares to take aim for it.

But that detachment is waining.

Especially as you lay on your front on your childhood bed, the NHL awards playing on the TV in your room back at your mom’s house, and you try to busy your hands with the crotchet kit you had picked up from the mall before you came home for a couple of days.

Your admiration is blooming and blossoming in the depths of your stomach into something intricate and uncontrollable.

And it has nothing to do with his name, his career, the award he is nominated for.

It’s just him.

Larger than life on your TV screen, but it still doesn’t capture him in his entirety, and you think for the first time that you miss him. You miss movies in his bed, you miss watching him from the passenger seat of his BMW, the sun shining from the window beside him, illuminating his profile until you burn from the glare. You miss his stupid jokes and his teasing smiles, and you miss the warmth in your cheeks when he looks your way.

And it’s only been like 2 days.

You miss Luke Hughes.

You kind of think you missed him before he even left.

You might have even missed him before you knew him, but that would be crazy, right?

Maybe he makes you crazy.

Maybe you need this week to recuperate, to attempt to build those walls back up before they’re damaged beyond repair.

Luke hadn’t given much thought to missing you before he and his brothers left for Vegas. He’d been so caught up, internally, about his and Quinn’s nominations, that he had thought it would continue to distract him the whole time they had been out there, but boy was he wrong.

All he remembers about his trip is thinking of you, and when the boys got back, and you had been visiting your mom for the weekend, all he could do was think of you more.

He thought of you when they sat at the table for dinner, and your place across from his was empty. He thought of you when he watched movies alone, thought of texting you some sort of commentary as he worked his way through the list of rom-coms you had given him, but you hadn’t texted him yet, so he gave up quickly on that idea.

He thought of you in bed, thought of the last time the two of you had been in there, together, and if he’s honest, he thinks of that almost all the time. Of messy kisses, wandering hands, and connection so deep he doesn’t think it will ever fizzle out.

And when he finally sees you again, he thinks he might have to get Quinn to source some sort of defibrillator for the house, because he swears his heart stops beating.

You poke your head into his bedroom, a shy smile on your face, and your bag is still on your shoulder, which means he had been your first stop, before you’d even gone to drop your things in yours and Ellie’s room.

He sees you in the reflection of his mirror, and turns immediately, clumsy fingers releasing the tie he’s been struggling to get right for a couple minutes, and steps toward you before he can even begin to tell himself not to seem so eager.

“You’re back!” He grins, and when your face lights up in return, he can hardly find it in himself to care anymore how down bad he comes across.

“Yeah,” you breathe, stepping into the room, discarding your bag by the door and shuffling toward him. “You didn’t have get all dolled up for my return.”

You reach to take both sides of the tie into your hands, and he feels himself go warm all over at the mere proximity of you after so long apart.

“It’s my cousin’s wedding,” he tells you as you start to knot the tie, knuckles brushing slightly across his chest until he’s holding his breath, lungs expanding so that he feels your touch a little more. “They’re having their reception at the club, later, you should come down.”

“You’re asking me to your cousin’s wedding?”

“Not like that,” he chuckles nervously as he looks down at you, eyes focused on the task at hand. “Just, haven’t seen you in a week, wouldn’t want to leave you here alone, it could be fun.”

Not to mention the fact he’s been watching the door for the past two days while he’s been home, waiting for you to get back and hoping it would be before the event, and he could figure out some way to ask you.

“You can’t just invite a random person to your cousin’s wedding reception, Luke.”

“She said I could!” He reasons, frowning when you raise a brow at him. “Not a random person, she said I could bring a friend.” He grasps gently at your hands as they straighten the fabric, halting your movements. “We’re friends, right?”

“If you say so.”

That wasn’t a no, he thinks, courage building within him in such a way that he starts to buzz with it. That would definitely have been a flat out no, before.

“You’d be doing me a favour.” He bargains, still holding your hands against his chest. “Quinn and Jack are bringing Josh and Turcs, I’d be like a fifth wheel,”

“So what you’re telling me is that you have no other friends?”

“Sure, if that’s what tugs at your heartstrings.” He has plenty of friends he could ask. Eddy, Duker, Luca - they’re all in town. None of them would look as pretty in a dress as you would, though. He wants to say there’s no chance of any of them kissing him after a few cocktails, but that would probably be a lie. “C’mon, they’re not gonna be checking IDs at the bar,” he wiggles his eyebrows in an attempt to convince you, “The free bar.”

“I don’t have anything to wear to a wedding,”

“What about that blue dress you wore to the formal last year?”

He remembers his throat going dry at just a picture - frosty baby blue silk against glowing skin, hair falling past your shoulders, the prettiest smile he’s ever seen in every photo.

And that is where misplaced courage gets him, he thinks. Letting slip that he has been creeping on your Instagram like some deranged stalker, because where else would he have seen you in that dress? He’d been in Jersey, by then. Scrolling down his timeline and swiping at every photo dump in what he didn’t even realise at the time was an obvious attempt to catch a glimpse of you.

Idiot.

“That was Ellie’s dress. I think she gave it to the Goodwill or something.” You frown, barely even picking up on his slip - unaware to the point that his heart rate can level back out to normalcy.

“You’ve got time to go shopping, you could get another,” he shrugs, reaching into the pocket of his pants. “Here, take my card.”

“Gee, thanks, Daddy Warbucks,” you push at his hand when he attempts to give it to you.

“I’m not adopting you. I’m more like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman.”

“Are you implying I’m a prostitute?”

“No,” he scoffs, only because, unintentionally, he totally was, and now he can’t get the picture out of his head - you in thigh high boots, legs for days stood out of the blue skirt, and the white top with the cutouts, soft summer skin he’s been missing the touch of peaking through - and he starts to wonder if that would be too much too soon to ask of you; to dress up for him like that. Maybe for halloween, if the two of you have progressed past whatever this is, by then. Keep dreaming, Hughes, he can already hear you saying. “More like a sugar baby.”

“I don’t need your money.”

“I’m trying to do something nice for you.”

“You don’t have to buy me things for me to like you.” You pout, and his own lips curl up at your defensiveness - so eager to prove yourself to him over something he isn’t even actually pressing.

“Because you like me already?” He can’t help himself, a small voice in the back of his mind telling him to push, push, push at your buttons until you practically malfunction - craving you in whatever disoriented state it was that he had seen you in last, pliant and willing and crumbling so nicely for him to scoop up and piece back together. “Because you missed me?”

He shouldn’t want that - want to have to hold you in place, that is, not really - but he does. He wants to be the one that gets you like that. The only one.

“What time’s the reception?”

That should also have been a flat out no.

Interesting.

You give in so easily, then, to the point where Luke gets giddy, letting you know when and where he wants you - always and anywhere, if he’s honest - and you roll your eyes as you agree, but you stay right in front of him long after you’ve finished with his tie, and he’s so tempted to kiss you that he’s buzzing with excitement.

He sneaks a kiss to the corner of your mouth - quick enough that you don’t push him away, or make any sort of comment about it, and darts down the stairs at Quinn’s calls for him, leaving you to figure out whatever it is you need to do to be ready for later.

And he thanks his lucky stars that later comes before he has the chance to really dwell on it. His day passes in a blur, the ceremony over in a flash, family photos taken before he even realises he doesn’t need to force a cheesy smile, and only brief moments spared over the course of the early afternoon to think about the things he’s lacking.

As he sits in the church between his brothers, he realises that he wants to be sitting with an arm slung around you and a hand in your lap - your fingers swirling absentminded shapes into his palm as the two of you watch the ceremony side by side. Wants to look down at you staring up the aisle in bewilderment, a soft flush to your cheeks, a dopey grin on your face and a far-off look in your eyes. Wants to mutter stupid jokes in your ear and watch you twist your lips to bite back a giveaway smile.

As he rides over to the club in the back of Quinn’s car, sandwiched between Alex and Josh with his brothers up front, he thinks he’d kill to have you in his lap - as illegal as that may be, but it’s only 5 minutes, and he’d make sure you were safe with an arm curled around your waist.

And when he’s waiting in the reception hall at the club, the late afternoon ticking into early evening, hearing speeches about falling in love and finding your person, he wants you in the seat beside him. Wants to rest his arm on the back of your chair, play with loose strands of your hair or stroke soft fingertips against your warm skin, and press gentle kisses into your temple.

It’s alarming how quick these thoughts consume him - his college years spent pining, his summer spent basking in whatever attention you choose to give him - and he can’t help but let himself be carried away with the hope of it all, that maybe he is wearing you down enough to give in to such thoughts.

Especially when he sees you walking in, and he swears the world has started moving in slow motion like a scene fresh out of one of those rom-coms you keep trying to subject him to.

His legs stretch without any instruction from his brain, pushing himself up onto his feet until he can make his way over and meet you halfway.

Your eyes light up and your hand lifts in a nervous wave as you start heading straight for him, the action causing the thin spaghetti strap of your dress to fall down your shoulder.

“Hey,” he breathes out, in what feels like relief, mouth breaking out into a dreamy grin until you’re right in front of him.

“Sorry I’m a little late, it took me forever to find a dress, and then my hair wouldn’t go right, and then the Uber took every back road known to man despite me literally telling him,” Luke reaches to readjust the fallen strap as you talk, fingers trailing ever so slightly against the soft skin of your shoulder, “That I knew a quicker way, and then we ended up at those lights over on Palmer for like 10 minutes, I think I was in that car so long I’m all crinkly.”

His eyes drop slowly down your figure, the silky fabric clinging to your curves in all the right spots, the soft yellow a perfect match to the tie around his neck. “You’re beautiful,” he reassures you with ease, cheeks flushing ever so slightly when your eyes meet his - but he’s used to that, by now, the way his head goes hot when you look at him. “I was gonna get a drink, do you want one?”

He extends his hand out to you in invitation before you even nod in response, and when your fingers slide between his, the heat that is swirling around his head and face starts to spread down, past his neck, into his chest, settling there as the two of you make your way over to the bar.

This last week without you has been hell.

Sat in his hotel room in Vegas, checking his phone for any sort of update - a text, an instagram post, a story - and wondering if that night before he had left had been playing on your mind the same way it had on his.

Soft, slow kisses pressed into reciprocated lips, hands memorising every inch of each other’s bodies, desperate but intentional movements into one another. It was hardly his first time, but God, had it felt like it. It was definitely the first time he had ever felt anything that deep for another person - felt so connected, so attached.

And, despite the lingering insecurity that he thinks he might always feel when it comes to you, he knew you felt the same.

You had told him in the simplest terms - you wanted him - but you had shown him so much more. Eyes stuck on his as he moved against you, foreheads pressed together, lips seeking his at every given opportunity, nails scratching at the broad expanse of his shoulders when he had taken the lead and flipped the two of you over.

Gasps and moans, pleading and pining, begging and singing for him as you came undone for the first, second and third time.

He doesn’t know how you can possibly even try to carry on pretending you don’t feel even an ounce of the infatuation he does.

Not when you look at him the way you do, eyes sparkling and wanting. Not when he had spent the past week pressing his fingertips into the bruises you had kissed again into the lowest part his stomach like that had become your spot, hoping he could aggravate them enough to linger until you could make some more.

Not when, even though the two of you have been stood at the bar now for a good few minutes, you haven’t made any efforts to take your fingers from where his are playing with them between the two of you.

“You never answered my question, earlier,” he hums as the two of you wait for your drinks.

“You talk so much, Hughes, you’re gonna have to remind me which question that was.”

“Did you miss me?” His head tilts with curiosity as he watches the hesitation cross your features, lashes fluttering as you look up at him with your lips pressed together to keep them from spluttering out the truth. “I missed you.” He admits, in the hopes that expressing his candour might elicit the same in you.

“I’m surprised you found the time, you looked very occupied on your brothers’ stories.” Bingo.

“You been keeping tabs on me?” The smirk that accompanies the question is instinctual, and he manages to catch the slight shift in your demeanour before you can retreat, closing his fingers around your hand before you can pull it away.

“No,” you scoff, and when you pull insistently for him to release your hand, the strap of your dress falls loose down your arm again, Luke’s eyes following before he fixes it for you once more. “Just stumbled across some pictures, I guess,”

“Yeah, you just tripped and fell into stalking me?”

“Don’t act like you weren’t doing the same, I saw those little 3 dots come up so often I was starting to think you were typing up the entirety of War and Peace.”

Which means you’d been lingering in your message thread with him, too. Gotcha.

“You know, the world won’t end if you just admit you missed me.”

“Fine.” It slips out before you know what you’re saying, eyes widening like a deer in the headlights as you realise you’ve already given in. “I missed you.”

He smiles, but doesn’t press, and it’s a smile that lingers as the two of you just look at each other, his eyes drifting down to watch your lips twist and press together, biting back whatever insult or chirp you’re just dying to throw his way to cover up. He waits for it to come, but loves that it doesn’t, and loves even more that you’re holding onto the moment as much as he is.

“Do you wanna dance?” Luke asks a while later, once the two of you have gulped down a couple of drinks, have sat with the others for a little, and he’s watched you watch the dance floor with a yearning gaze.

Your eyes meet his after he poses the question, a confidence in his demeanour that has you crumbling immediately.

You nod, allowing him to guide you over to where a few other couples are swaying on the dance floor, and you let him guide you into his arms, one hand in his and the other resting on his shoulder.

It should be awkward, you think, remembering back on all the times you’ve tried this before. School dances and proms, clumsily shuffling and trying to avoid being stomped on by your partner’s feet - but the two of you move with ease, and you’d like to think it’s because his body knows yours by now.

“This is so weird,” you mutter, eyes cast down to watch his feet move in his fancy Oxford shoes, a soft flush to your cheeks.

“What do you mean?” He asks, nerves heightening as he stiffens like he’s waiting for you to let him go - to step away and cut this short like it doesn’t make you feel the same way.

“Slow dancing is for old folk like war veterans and millennials.” Your lips twist as your eyes meet his, and his lips turn up into a slow smile, a deep, melodic chuckle following closely behind.

“If you’d rather bump’n'grind on me, I get it,” he smirks.

“You’re such an idiot,” you scoff back, twitching to shake the hair from your shoulder, assuming that’s what is causing the shivers currently shooting down your spine, and not the large, possessive hand resting in the dip of your waist.

“Y’know, I’ve realised something about you lately,” he starts, voice low as he leans in, angling into your exposed neck and stopping his lips within mere inches of your ear, “You have a tell.”

“A tell?” You turn, brow raised as your gaze meets his, faces close enough that you can feel the soft pants of his breath on your skin.

“For when you’re enjoying yourself more than you think you should be,” he hums, his eyes fluttering a little as they drop to watch your mouth, the swipe of your tongue wetting your lower lip. “You call me an idiot,” his hand on your waist squeezes ever so slightly, your back arching a little into his touch, “Or stupid,” he uses his other hand, the one clutching at yours, to pull you closer, “Or dumb, or a dork.”

You can feel your heart thudding at the call-out, beating in time to the music, in time to the way your bodies sway together, creating it’s own rhythm for the two of you to dance to.

“Maybe you’re just a stupid, dumb, dorky idiot.” You squeak out, immediately hating the way the words taste in your mouth, your face souring and eyes narrowing in deliberation. There’s no way that was at all convincing, and the smirk that tugs up his lips is all you need to know he sees right through you.

“Maybe,” he humours you, anyway. “And yet, you can’t get enough of me.”

“A smug dorky idiot.” You correct yourself, cutting out stupid and dumb, the sharpness of those words cutting at your tongue like a knife.

The pointlessness of such discussion almost waters down the exhilaration you feel at being this close to him, in public, nonetheless, where literally anyone else could call you out on your growing tolerance of Luke, could connect the dots regarding all the time the two of you have been spending together and wave the evidence of your growing affection like a chequered flag for all to see.

This definitely feels like you’re crossing the finish line.

And, of course, it’s Jack who does the honours, primed all night to find some way to get between you and Luke upon your arrival, stumbling up to the two of you at the end of the song you’re swaying to and laying a heavy palm on your shoulder.

“Isn’t this cosy?”

“Fuck off, Jack,” Luke scowls before you get the chance, a pointed glare directed towards his brother, the palming grip at your waist growing faint as you try to wedge a little distance between the two of you, fighting a losing battle with your instinct to run and hide.

“I need to talk to your girlfriend.”

“I’m not his-,”

“She’s not my-,”

The two of you speak simultaneously, and despite the fact that you were saying the exact same thing, him saying it kind of dampens your mood, putting a good couple of steps between you and Luke with your arms crossing over your chest as you look toward his brother.

“Whatever. Can I borrow her for a couple minutes?”

“I’m not property, Jack, you can ask me directly.”

“Please can we talk? Alone?”

“Let’s go outside,” you huff, storming off before he has the chance to say anything else and making it all the way outside before he speaks again.

“Sorry for interrupting, you and Luke looked kind of cute-,”

“What do you want?”

“I’m sorry I said you were messing him around, and that you were toxic.”

You frown at him, watching as he diverts his gaze to the ground, nervously shuffling on his feet and fingers fidgeting with the cuffs on his shirt.

“I’m sorry for all the things I said and did at that party, I didn’t mean them, I was just drunk and upset. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

You chew nervously on the inside of your cheeks as he talks, arms wrapped around yourself to shield from the brisk night air, and you watch as Jack starts to unravel before your very eyes.

For as long as you’ve known Ellie, for as long as you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him as anything less than cool, calm and collected - it’s kind of the main thing that grinds your gears about him if your honest, the fact that he never seems real. Like he’s putting on some sort of persona to seem like he has all his shit together, when you know he doesn’t.

“I really like Ellie, you know,” he sighs, and you scoff, because of course you know that. “And I was blaming you for putting this wedge between us when it’s really me that’s been fucking up.” You know that, too. “I’ve been thinking about her this past week, and I really wanna pull myself together and finally do something about it. Stop being such an idiot.”

You bite your tongue from questioning the reality of that. He’ll always be an idiot, you think, but that’s best left unspoken. It’s not even personal to him, that’s just part of being a man.

“She likes you too,” You tell him instead, despite the fact that it goes against all sorts of girl code to do so. You’re doing them both a favour, and the universe should really just let you off, you feel. “I don’t know why either of you have wasted so much time when you’ve both felt the same way all along.”

“You really think she’d say yes if I asked her out?”

“I do,” you shrug, “And it doesn’t need to be done on some romantic boat trip or some crazy elaborate scheme, you should just ask her when she gets back next week. Like as soon as she comes through the door, it will save us all a headache.”

“You sound like Luke.”

“Yeah, well, he’s rubbing off on me, I guess.”

“I don’t need to hear what the two of you get up to when you’re alone, that’s my little brother.”

You reach over and shove at his arm, and for the first time ever, when your eyes meet his, neither of them are narrowed. He’s smiling, and you’re smiling too, and it feels a little like a weight has been lifted from your chest, fresh air filling your lungs.

“Let’s go back inside, Luke’s probably thinking we’ve killed each other.”

“I’m just gonna take a second, it’s kinda stuffy in there.”

Jack nods, before making his way back to the reception, and you make your way over to the fountain, heels working through the gravel until you take a seat on the side.

It’s a couple of minutes before you hear footsteps, and before you see the fancy oxfords come into your view, eyes roaming up the long, lean body of the boy who has your brain running marathons.

When your eyes meet, his gaze is warm, and it feels like he can see right through you. Like he’s looking into the depths of your mind, holding a big cheesy sign as he waits at the finish line for your thoughts to come to an end.

He sits wordlessly beside you, his knees knocking against yours, and waits for you to speak - although the silence doesn’t feel awkward, or forced. He waits, patiently and understandingly, and you feel like he’s giving you the time to figure out what you want to say.

It feels monumental, this moment, like you’re teetering on the edge of something real and honest for the first time in a while.

“The other week, when we,” your voice feels heavy, thick at the back of your throat, “You know,”

“I was strictly advised to forget about it, so no, I don’t know,” he teases, and you’re kind of thankful that he’s trying to ease the tension you’re building for yourself. “But if you wanna jog my memory.” You shove lightly at his shoulder. “I’m kidding. What about it?”

“I’ve never really done that before?”

“What, snuck a guy up to his room in the middle of a house party and rocked his world?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You scoff, smiling to yourself, despite the weight of all that you’re about to admit to him. “I’ve only ever slept with one other guy, and he wasn’t very nice about it after, so I just,” you frown, “Don’t really do it.”

“You don’t-,” he frowns too, you can see it from your peripheral, eyes till on the hands fidgeting in your lap, “But I thought-,” You look over and meet his eyes, brows furrowed and lips parted in confusion. “What?”

“The first guy, Jamie,” you start, twisting to face him, knees knocking once more. “We started talking in the summer before my freshman year, got to know each other ‘cause he lived one town over from me and he’d come into work all the time, and then when I started college he was a sophomore, and he was the first guy to ever take, like, a serious interest in me. And we had a lot in common, he was on the soccer team, we grew up in the same area, we got on really well, it was the first time I ever really felt connected to anyone like that. But I’d never done anything before, so I wanted to take things slow,”

Jamie Reeves. Captain of the University of Michigan Soccer Team until he tore his ACL at the end of his last year, ruining all dreams of playing in the MLS, like it was entirely achievable for a player of his caliber anyway. You had been infatuated by him, though. The kind of infatuation that a younger you might have doodled little hearts around his name in all your notebooks.

And then he turned out to be a complete leech.

“Please don’t tell me he rushed you into it.” Luke straightens his posture, reaching to place his hand over yours in your lap, the touch immediately comforting, and his concern even more so.

“No. Not exactly.” You sigh, hating how dramatic you feel about the whole thing. “We went on dates, and things were going really well, so I figured I trusted him enough to be my first, then after we had sex he just went really off. He wouldn’t take me out anymore, wasn’t putting any effort in. And then people started asking me all these questions about him, and what we did, and I realised he was going around telling everyone all the details, like I was just some conquest he could tick off to the boys on the team.” You remember how ashamed you had felt, eyes on you in every corridor, whispers about you in every class. You couldn’t leave your dorm without someone muttering some obscene comment about you, and you just felt awful. “Every time one of them saw me they’d make all these dumb comments, and I just felt dirty all the time, like I’d done something wrong. Then I went to a party at Pike, the one at Halloween,” The party that Luke had approached you for the first time since you met, and you had stormed off in tears - not due to him at all, but due to the fact you had just seen Jamie sticking his tongue down someone else’s throat, mere days after you had seen him last. “And he was all over one of the girls on the field hockey team, didn’t even look my way again after that, not that I really wanted him to.”

“You haven’t been with anyone since?”

You shake your head. “Doesn’t stop people saying I have, though. I tried dating a couple times, but it always ended up the same way, rumours being spread about me sleeping around and being easy. And it’s so dumb, ‘cause it’s like I trusted one guy, and somehow it keeps backfiring on me.” You pay no mind, for the first time in a long time, to the crack in your voice as you say it, no longer afraid of showing any hint of vulnerability. Not to Luke. You need to get this out - get it out of the way, once and for all, so you can move past it. Move on, even, with someone you hope won’t treat you the same.

“Does that mean you trusted me?”

You try not to think too hard about all the times the two of you have shared any level of intimacy - the physical touch mostly initiated by you, and it’s hardly ever on a whim. You think a lot about Luke, if you’re honest. About how he’s honest, and he sticks by his word when he promises not to tell anyone anything. How he always tries to make you laugh or smile, even if it’s something stupid. He isn’t afraid to embarrass himself with you, isn’t afraid to give you power, to let you take the lead. And even though sometimes he jokes otherwise, the times you hang out, he has no ulterior motives. He likes talking to you, likes watching movies with you, likes meeting your eye in a crowded room and giving you one of those smiles that have started to make your heart stutter with something unidentifiable.

“I guess so.” Your shoulder lifts in a nonchalant shrug, your words anything, but. “I don’t know, I’ve been thinking about it since and I can’t explain why it happened but I feel like you and me are-,”

Connected? Compatible?

You know what he would say you are. You don’t know if you’re there, yet.There are so many things the two of you have become over the past few weeks, so many things you’ve wanted to be for longer than you even realised, so many things you’re afraid to say.

“I feel like out of everyone, you’d have no reason to lie to me. Or about me.”

“I wouldn’t. I didn’t know all that stuff,” he frowns, and it seems like his mind only just makes sense of all the times you threatened him after the fact, making sure he wouldn’t tell anyone that the two of you kissed, or hung out alone in an intimate space and maybe potentially enjoyed yourselves. He had thought you were ashamed of it - but all this time, you’ve been protective. Of yourself, of the trust you were building in him. “Why don’t you tell people, that those guys are all lying?”

“No one would believe me,” you shrug, eyes cast down to where his hand still rests on yours, and his touch prevents you from picking nervously at the skin around your nails.

“I do,” He assures you, “And I promise the next time I hear anyone say any of that stuff about you, I’ll beat their face in.”

“Yeah, you’d drop gloves for me?”

“Look at you with your hockey talk.” He coos, lifting a hand to caress your cheek, where you had barely noticed a tear trailing down until he wipes it away with his thumb, a proud smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. I would. We’re partners, remember? I’ve got your back.” He extends his pinkie out to you, and you curl yours around it until he’s tugging it toward him, leaning down to press his lips to your knuckle, his kiss like a promise as his green eyes meet yours.

It doesn’t gross you out, this time. If you’re honest with yourself, it hadn’t the first time he did it, either. It was cute, in an entirely dorky and childish and almost nostalgic way.

And you’re compelled to do the same, leaning and touching your pouted lips to his pinky, eyes fluttering closed as you kiss his skin, the rush of blood to your head somehow louder than the steady stream of the fountain beside you.

“Listen,” he starts, lowering his hand but keeping your pinkies interlocked, resting them between you both on the stone. “If whatever this is that we’re doing makes you uncomfortable, or brings all that stuff back, I can back off a little.”

Something akin to disappointment floods through your system, your heart rate picking up in a panicked staccato, but you try to stay cool - still, for whatever reason, holding your cards close to your chest.

“I can make sure my brothers don’t make any more stupid comments about us, they’re doing it to annoy me, not you. And I can,” he takes a deep breath, eyes flickering between yours as if to gauge your desires before he has to reluctantly pander to them. “I can stop, too.”

You nod, because it’s all you can do to shake away the tears threatening to flood your lash line at just the thought of him giving up on you.

It’s the lump in your throat that blocks the words coming out to tell him as much, and your lips twist in discomfort as you take in the way he’s looking at you - gaze filled with dwindling patience and waining resilience. There’s only so far you can continue to push him, you can see that now, and if you’d have told the version of yourself that first sat down with him all those weeks ago - the version of yourself that refuted any chance of ever warming up to him, that saw him as nothing more than an annoyance, a disturbance to your tips for the day - that the thought of him stopping whatever you have would make you feel like this?

That cold-hearted bitch would have laughed in your face.

“Hey, lovebirds!” There’s a shout from across the courtyard, and Quinn appears in the distance with hands cupped around his mouth. The intrusion has you retracting your hand, and you can see the way Luke reacts in your peripheral, a resigned nod given instinctually before he looks over to his brother. “I’m driving home if you two want a ride!”

Luke doesn’t look back at you before pushing himself up, but he offers a hand to help you stand, and the two of you walk in silence to meet Quinn by the exit.

The car ride back to the house is silent, too, save for the soft hum of the radio that filters through the car. Josh sits up front with Quinn, head lulling against the window as he falls asleep worryingly quick, and you’re squished in the middle between Luke and Alex, Jack having stayed back with their parents. It’s hard not to press your legs against Luke’s - his are so gangly and long that they take up more than their fair share of room, and it’s much less awkward despite the circumstances to be touching him than touching Turcs. You feel a lot less tense when you’re touching, anyway.

And when Quinn pulls up, Luke still helps you out of the car - ever the gentleman, even in the face of apparent rejection.

Quinn and Alex work at lugging an overly inebriated Josh up to his room, leaving Luke to guide you through the house, and the silence starts to become unbearable as he whispers a quick and quiet goodnight, leaving you at the door to yours and Ellie’s room as he makes his way down the hall.

“Hey, Luke,” you call out in a whisper toward him as he retreats, his tall frame turning, a gleam of what you interpret as hope flashing across his green eyes.

“Yeah?” He hums back, voice low as not to disturb anyone else, gaze meeting yours, locking in place with an almost audible click.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

You’re worried for a second you’ll have to expand, that maybe his slightly intoxicated memory doesn’t stretch as far back as to remember the conversation the two of you had had out by the fountain.

Elaborating on it would be embarrassing to say the least - because what, exactly, are you supposed to say?

I don’t want you to stop flirting with me.

I don’t want you to stop kissing me when no one else is around.

I don’t want you to stop being the only person I can talk to.

I don’t want you to stop bulldozing into my very secure and sturdy walls, thank you very much. They’re starting to tumble down in what could be a very calamitous fashion.

Worried you might have to expose a little more of yourself than you had originally anticipated, you chew at the corner of your lip, waiting.

But then he smiles - in that easy way that makes your bones feel like jelly, your knees weakening to the point that you lean against the still-closed door of your room. In the way that has that loudmouth voice you’re trying too often to suppress within you screaming, God, he’s so cute!

“I know,” he smirks, the bastard, liquid courage running deep through his veins, “Inevitable, remember?”

You scoff, almost instinctively rolling your eyes despite the endeared warmth that floods your belly. “You’re an idiot.”

“I know,” he says again, “You coming?”

And all you can do is nod, biting back a fully-fledged smile before you’re rushing over and slotting yourself under his outstretched arm.

You definitely enjoy him more than you should.

Living with boys for the first time in your life has taught you a lot over the weeks you’ve been staying at the lake house.

The first is that they’re weirdly messy - in ways that shouldn’t bother you, but they do. It isn’t clothes left around, or dirty plates - but it’s hand soap crusted around the spout by the faucet, shoes kicked off and discarded at random points throughout the house, and they, for some bizarre reason, never put the lid back right on anything.

The second is that they’re loud - and that should have been anticipated. Guys are notoriously obnoxious. But it isn’t just their voices that carry. It’s footsteps up the stairs, stomping in the dead of the night when one of them needs a drink. It’s chewing their food, or slurping their coffee, or scraping the feet of their chairs against the floor when they’re sat at the dining table. It’s tapping their hands on their knees in haphazard rhythm whenever there might be an ounce of peace that they, without a doubt, misunderstand for awkward silence.

And the third is that they probably couldn’t organise a fire in a match factory. And that goes for a lot of things - the kitchen cupboards, their laundry loads, and, most importantly, one of the many parties they love to throw.

It wouldn’t bother you so much - they usually work out in the end - but this time, it’s Ellie’s birthday, and the way they leave everything until the last minute is about to give you an aneurysm or something.

There’s no food, no drinks, no cake, no decorations, and the party is tonight.

And Jack, who’s grand idea it had been to throw her a party in the first place, seems to have kidnapped her - disappearing and leaving you to try and figure out what’s going on.

Cole is the one who finds you in the kitchen, spiralling out, frantically trying to put together some kind of list so that one of the guys can go to the store and pick up the bare minimum to throw a party together - and he manages to calm you down - gathers the rest of the guys and helps come up with a plan, sharing out different categories. Quinn and Josh are down to get drinks, Cole and Alex are down to get food, and you and Luke are down for decorations.

And then within the next five minutes, you’re back up in your room, transferring things from one of your bags into a tote, so you can carry more stuff back to the car without having to bring back a load of plastic, and Luke is sat on your bed, leaning back onto his hands as he watches you, green eyes still tickling your skin with their tangible watch.

“I know we’re on a time crunch, but could we make another pit-stop at the mall? I still need to find a present for this baby shower.”

“Oh, actually, I made you something.”

“You made me something?” You can feel him watching you as you dig through the bag you’d brought back with you from being home.

“Yeah, I was bored, when you guys were gone, I forgot to give it to you when you got back, got kinda distracted by the whole wedding thing,” you tell him, reaching blindly to try and find the little figure. “I went by that art supply store and picked up one of those kits,” You finally find it, pulling out the little crotchet animal that may or may not have been your fourth attempt. The first had a stubby neck, the second had uneven legs, and you don’t think the third one’s face was anywhere near appropriate to be gifting to a child. This one isn’t perfect, but you’d honestly reached your limit with it. “Don’t make it a thing, it was like therapy while I was back home to be honest.”

“Oh that’s adorable.” He pouts, accepting it from you and immediately turning it back, bobbing it’s head as if to greet you. “Why a giraffe?”

“Long neck,” you smile, reaching out to pat it. “Reminded me of you.”

“Ha ha,” he rolls his eyes, but the laughter feels real enough. “She’ll love it.”

“She?” It slips out by instinct before you can check yourself, eyes widening as his meet yours again, his lips twitching in the corners. “Thought you said it was for your captain,”

“It is.” He smirks, “Men can’t carry babies last time I checked.”

You nod, because of course men can’t carry babies. Of course the shower is for the mother of the baby - who you vaguely remember Jack and Luke talking about - someone who works with them back in Jersey. Someone they’re both close to, clearly, if Luke’s stressing this much about a gift.

“Wait, are you jealous?”

“No.” You scoff, frowning purposefully, lips turning down in forced denial.

“You’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

“You want to take this back now, huh?” He holds the giraffe in a way that it bends, adorably, like he’s trying to taunt you with it, and it’s wonky eyes do little to distract from the charm he gives it.

“Nope.” You shrug, “You can give it to whatever girl you want, doesn’t bother me at all.”

“Of course not,” he stands, stepping toward you slowly, “You couldn’t care less what I do away from this house, right?”

“Right.” You gulp, looking into soft green eyes, your legs starting to wobble at the knees, strength and integrity waining as the seconds pass. You really don’t know why you’re still keeping this game up. Ever since that night of the wedding, you’ve been sneaking off into Luke’s room as soon as Ellie falls asleep. You fall asleep by his side, and he wakes you when he gets up early, so you can sneak back without Ellie realising you’ve even gone.

You’ve kissed him every day, sometimes tender, sometimes torrid - over the centre console of his car when he drops you off at work, in his bed before you drift off to sleep, in the kitchen when you sneak off under the ruse of refilling your drink. He can tell the difference between the flavours of lip balms you wear, comments on it like he has a little ranking system filed away somewhere in the back of his mind. You both whisper your secrets in the dark of the night, and you had promised him that you would try to open yourself up more to him.

“I thought we were past this,” he hums, stepping closer, voice low in a way that buzzes through your bones. “Thought we were being honest with each other, now.”

“Honest?” You ask, voice weak, neck craning now to look up at him, eyes boring into your own as he advances on you.

His hand reaches to cup your jaw, to tilt your head just that bit further, and presses his lips straight to yours instead of elaborating any further.

He’s tentative, at first. Gentle, even. Fingertips ghosting along the side of your neck, pulling you closer, less with any physical force and more so with pure magnetic attraction, your skin humming - buzzing, even, to be touched by him in any which way.

Your chin tilts as your mouths slot together in a soft, slow kiss, and when his lips touch yours, everything else fits perfectly into place. The fingers of his left hand press firmly into the flesh of your hip, now, using a slight force to manoeuvre you how it suits him - as close as he can physically get you - and those on his right reach around enough to slightly curve towards the back of your neck, applying just enough pressure so that your chin angles upward to deepen the kiss, his tongue pressing a pleading invitation into your bottom lip.

An invitation you immediately grant him, your hands finding their place on his body with ease, one flat against the warm expanse of his chest and the other matching his, soft fingertips grazing the skin of his neck until they tangle in the slight overgrowth of curls at the nape.

Everything feels so fluid, so effortless, and yet, so new - like this is the first time you have kissed, an eruption of fresh feelings bursting through you. There’s still a familiarity that lingers - one of ease, where it’s like your bodies have each other mapped out, already. You know every cell of him and he of you, and it’s evident in the way the moment escalates.

Your bodies naturally gravitate towards the nearest surface, his fingers reaching out behind your hip to soften the blow of him pushing you into the dresser, your back arching, feet moving in sync as not to tangle and trip, or stumble and break the kiss.

But there’s nothing else clumsy about it.

He lifts you with ease, the cold surface only a slight shock to the system, and it brings you to the perfect height where he can seamlessly move his kisses from your lips, past your jaw, down your neck and into the crevice of your collarbones, leaving a trail of the sticky residue of your lip balm.

Strong hands cup your thighs, parting your legs until he can stand between them, and your fingers bury themselves into his curls, pushing into him however you can.

When his fingers graze the inside of your thigh, his lips part from the hot skin of your clavicle, and his head tilts slightly until his darkened green eyes meet yours.

“Please,” you breathe out before he can even ask, beyond caring for whatever particles of pride you’ve been desperately trying to cling to when you watch his lips curve slowly into the most panty-dropping smirk you think you’ve ever seen.

“Please what?”

Your lips part as if by instinct, a biting remark fizzling out on the tip of your tongue as your mind works for some kind of comeback, for some semblance of resistance to whatever this version of him is, but there’s nothing. Just a frantic plea for him to do anything to you. Whatever he wants.

Your hips shuffle forward as if led by a mind of their own, trying to force his hand up, only for him to follow the movement of your thigh.

“Touch me,” you find yourself pouting, spikes of heat flashing through you at the way you can see the thoughts crossing his mind, of all the ways in which he can torture you - putty in the palm of what you thought were safe hands.

“Tell me you were jealous,” he prompts, leaning forward to press a teasing kiss to your lips, “Tell me that the thought of me even talking to another girl makes your skin crawl.”

Don’t let him get cocky, a voice prevails in the back of your mind, despite the accuracy of his words. Tell him he’d have to have an ounce of game for you to be remotely worried, tell him the only thing that makes your skin crawl is his incessant need to mouth off all the time. Tell him, tell him, tell him!

“I was jealous,” you breathe out instead, chasing the victorious smirk that stretches across his lips in the hopes you can kiss it away.

Jealous of a girl you’ve never met, in a relationship with another man, pregnant with his child, not remotely interested in Luke.

A girl who gets to see him all the time, who knows him probably in ways you might never, who he cares enough about to want to gift her something meaningful. Who he casually texts and smiles at his phone as he’s doing so, who he and Jack talk affectionately about in ways they’ll never talk about you.

You’ve officially lost it.

“And if you don’t touch me in the next 3 seconds,” you carry on, scrambling to claw back one single iota of your dignity, your hands gripping at his broad shoulders, “I won’t let you touch me again.”

Luke laughs. Practically snorts at you, eyes crinkling in the corners in pure amusement. Your dignity is long gone.

“1,” you start, your voice shakier than you’d ever like it to be, and his hands move to either side of your hips, clutching at the edge of the dresser.

“2,” you didn’t think you could sound worse than before, definitely longer than a second ago, but you’re quickly proven wrong as you watch him leverage that grip to push himself upright, creating a distance between the two of you that drains all the heat from your body.

“3.” he finishes, taking a step back and watching you with unadulterated hunger in his eyes, daring you to follow through with your threat - and the smug idiot knows you won’t.

He knows it’s coming, even anticipates the way in which you pounce on him, arms ready to catch you when you throw yourself down onto the ground in front of him, landing with a quick thud that jolts you straight into him. Hands at either side of his face pull him down, and he does half of the work in bending his back so it isn’t as clumsy.

You tangle yourself up in him, legs twisting between each other until you’re stumbling toward the bed, and it’s as soon as you get your fingers back into his hair, as soon as his hands are pushing your top up, grazing at the warm skin of your back, that you hear a call of your name.

You falter back from him just as the door swings open, managing to create a reasonable amount of distance as Ellie swaggers in, voice still raised as she asks, “Have you seen my-,” It’s Luke that she sees first, eyes zeroing in on his flushed face with pin-point accuracy, her brows furrowing as she takes him in, heaving chest and messy hair and all. “Lip gloss?”

Lip gloss? Is she joking?

“You came all the way back up here for lip gloss?” You ask, still slightly breathless and brain fogged, and feeling very much like you’ve just put all your chips on the table and watched them get swept away in seconds.

You watch as Ellie’s eyes dart to Luke’s mouth, watch him grow conscious of the balmy coating smeared across his lips, and you feel your heart stop in it’s place, your chest squeezing in anticipation of a thump thump thump that doesn’t come.

“No,” she mutters, diverting her attention back to you with a sobering shake of her head. “Balm,” she corrects, “The kind with SPF, I think I’m burning, I didn’t realise me and Jack were gonna be gone all morning.”

“Uhm, yeah,” you breathe, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ears in the hopes it helps cool your head down, some. “I have some in my bag.”

Your tote is on the dresser you had just been placed on yourself, and you use the opportunity to dig through it to will the burning sensation in your ears away, levelling out your breathing as you root around for a tube of lip balm you know is in there somewhere.

“Could you check for my car keys, too? I was thinking we could drop by the mall for lunch. Catch up” She adds, with a forced wiggle of her brows, clearly what she had actually come up here for, and you fish those out too, throwing them across to her. “Quinn’s looking for you before you go, Luke, something about a list.”

“I should go check what he wants,” Luke mumbles, putting another few steps of distance between you before he offers an awkward wave, and departs the room with heavy feet that you hear stomp all the way down the hall, the last thing you see of him being a skinny, lopsided crochet giraffe poking out of his back pocket.

Apparently Jack’s plans of keeping some element of surprise for the party had gone out of the window as soon as he had got her alone - and you’re kind of grateful for the fact.

Keeping secrets from Ellie is stressful - you of all people would know, you’ve somehow managed to keep a pretty big one from her all summer - and she usually has a way of figuring things out on her own.

You probably would have folded to her - just the two of you out together, sipping smoothies in the food court at the mall - if he hadn’t already filled her in one the plans for the night.

It makes up a little for his lack of effort, earlier - especially now that your hands are clear of it. You don’t know how much you trust the guys to put something together while you and Ellie are looking for an outfit for her, but you have no choice but to leave them to it. Jack had reassured you he had everything under control, and despite the absurdity of that statement, it’s nice for that panic you had been feeling earlier to have been flushed away.

“I think tonight’s the night,” Ellie sighs dreamily, elbow resting on the table and her chin in the palm of her hand, “We had this really deep conversation while we were out walking, and he pretty much told me he has feelings for me, he was really nervous, it was kind of cute.”

“I’ll take your word for the cute thing,” you chuckle, sipping at your smoothie and smiling at how happy she looks. It’s nice to hear, her having hope about the situation for once, instead of dread or fear.

“He said you two spoke at his cousin’s wedding,”

“It was nothing,” you shrug, “He didn’t need any interference from me to realise he likes you, El, he just needed a nudge.”

“I can hardly call you out on interfering,” her lips twist, nervously, “I’ve kind of been doing the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you think I’ve been hanging out with Cole so much all summer?”

“Cole?” You frown, leaning back into your chair, “You’ve lost me.”

When you’d last spoken to Ellie about Cole, she had told you they just got along, and there was nothing more to it - and you had no reason to believe otherwise. When you and Luke had been in the midst of your own interference, and you had been playing third wheel to their hangouts, they had been getting along. Almost like siblings. Cole never flashed her those flirty winks or toothy grins that he gave everyone else.

“He’s into you.” She says, finger swiping in the ring left behind from her smoothie cup on the table, “And I was kind of giving him advice on how to approach you. I figured you wouldn’t mind, ‘cause he’s like your normal type, and you seemed like you liked him-,”

“I’m sorry, you think I like Cole?”

You’re taken aback. You don’t remember giving any sort of indication you were ever into Cole Caufield.

Maybe you could have been, before this summer - would have probably fallen victim to his cheeky smiles or his teasing banter. He’s probably closer to your usual type, if you even have one. Confident, with a presence that sort of demands attention. But you realise, now, your attention should be earned - in more than just a flash of cute teeth and boyish features.

In dumb jokes told just to bring you out of a bad mood, and a car with the AC dialled up waiting for you after a shift on a hot day. In hands that offer you help before you ever have to ask, and eyes that see so far beyond what version of yourself you try to put out there.

You could have liked Cole, in another world, or another life, if another boy wasn’t around.

“I did until I walked in on you kissing Luke, earlier.”

You blink slowly at her, mouth agape as she stares blankly back.

What the fuck?

“I wasn’t kissing Luke,” you scoff, denial making your face twist in funny ways that you can even feel look deranged. “We were talking.”

“Into each other’s open mouths?” She snickers, “Unless he’s been digging around in our stuff when we’re not around, I can’t think of any other reason he’d have left the room with Summer Fridays Vanilla Beige smeared all over his lips.”

“It was Brown Sugar, actually.” You correct her, guiltily, hoping the words you mutter next through pouted lips don’t quite make it to her ears. “He says it’s sweeter.”

“Oh my God.” She guffaws, mouth agape and eyes wide in realisation. “How long has this been going on?”

“Nothing’s going on,” you deny, although you can feel heat creeping up your neck, already. “We just get along-,”

“We get along, and you don’t welcome me home with an open mouth.”

“Ellie-,”

“Listen, he’s not just some guy that you can mess around with, he’s way deeper into you than you probably realise, and-,”

“I like him, okay?” you blurt out, voice just loud enough to be heard over her rambling but not enough to carry anywhere else, and the silence that follows is almost deafening - prolonged in a way that you can’t even remember if you said anything, or not.

But the way Ellie is looking at you tells you enough.

Why is everyone so caught up on you breaking his heart?

As if you aren’t putting the entirety of yours on the line.

“Luke?” She asks, like the two of you haven’t just been talking about him. “You like Luke Hughes?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, leaning onto your elbows and pressing the palms of your hands to your face, eyes scrunching tight to try clear up some mind space to make sense of what it is you’re admitting to.

It makes sense already, to you. Verbalising it is the problem.

He’s charming, he’s funny, he makes you laugh, most times unintentionally but that doesn’t make your feelings dwindle in the slightest.

He’s weirdly passionate about that one horse movie and won’t shut up trying to get you to watch it with him, but it’s endearing in a way that you want to kiss him to shut him up. Or maybe even watch it, God forbid.

He literally never stops eating, but it’s like his body is in tune to yours now, and he always makes double if he feels like you might be hungry so you don’t ever have to ask, which is weirdly sweet.

When you lay beside him in the middle of the night, you don’t feel pressured to do anything other than talk.

And when you do, he listens to you - retains information and checks up in a way that makes you feel seen, makes you feel a way you haven’t in a really long time. He doesn’t talk over you, or dismiss your feelings, or try to change the topic when things go a little too deep or get a little heavy. He shares the load, asks questions that make you think and process things in a new way, and he isn’t patronising when he does so. He doesn’t say things that sound like they’re straight out of a Psych 101 textbook like your feelings are valid or what makes you think that?

And he compares your wildly different worlds in a way that doesn’t feel like a competition. His troubles aren’t worse than yours, his life isn’t harder.

You’re equals.

You’ve never felt like anyone’s equal, not even Ellie.

It’s like with all the other parts of your life that make you hurt, make you feel small and insignificant - they fade away when you’re with Luke.

His corner of your world is bright - despite the seemingly inexhaustible snark-meter constantly ticking between you two - it’s easy, doesn’t weigh down on you or make your chest feel tight, not in that way, at least.

You’ve been introduced to a whole new influx of feelings in your chest by Luke.

You can give in to the ugly side of yourself that wants to bite at him until there’s nothing left, to push whenever he gets a little too close, and you don’t have to worry that you’ll scare him off or push too far, ‘cause he’ll just pull you with him and bite back - only, it doesn’t hurt like when anyone else does it. Somehow, you think he savours the parts that other people might spit out - chews and swallows and rubs at his belly in satisfaction like you’re the best meal he’s ever had.

Despite all the other things that have shattered your heart, Luke Hughes makes it feel whole, again.

And it should make you feel sick - lovey-dovey stuff like that usually does, your walls shooting straight up at the first sign of affection from anybody, metaphorical sneakers on and carrying your legs as far and as fast as they can run - but this doesn’t.

You don’t want to run from Luke, not really.

“I thought you said he was dorky and annoying.”

You’re pretty sure she had been the one to say that, at some point, but you don’t remember arguing the fact, so you don’t bring it up.

“He is.” You pout. He’s also apparently inevitable. “He kinda crept up on me, I guess.”

Ellie is quiet for a minute as she watches you, eyes narrowing as she takes you in - shoulders slumped, lips pouted, defeated.

“Why not just tell him, then? Why hide it?” She asks, leaning onto the table too until your faces are level when you peak up at her, “You know he likes you back, right? He’s got the biggest crush on you, it’s borderline problematic.”

“I don’t know, I don’t really understand why he likes me.”

“Does it matter?”

It does. You don’t want to keep running, but you can’t really help it. There’s something ingrained deep within you that is trying to shelter yourself from all the ways in which succumbing to these feelings will inevitably hurt you.

“Luke’s way smarter than me, and he’s way more successful, he’s kind and he’s generous, he comes from a great family, has this great house, we have literally nothing in common, and he doesn’t see that now because he just thinks he’s attracted to me, and he likes that I don’t just fold to him because he’s some superstar, but the second that’s gone,” you sigh, trying to swallow down the hurt in your voice, blink away the onslaught of tears, “He’ll just get bored of me like everybody else does, and then he’ll be gone. And I’ll just be some girl he broke up with and left behind, and that’s all I’ll ever be.”

Ellie frowns, a strained mutter of your name called as her hand falls to yours in an attempt to comfort you. “You’ll never know if you don’t try, babe.”

“No, I know.”

It’s all you’ve ever known.

Men who start off treating you like some prized possession - cherishing you, making you feel valued and loved - and the second the shine wears off, the second something even newer, even brighter, even sparklier, crosses their path, they’re gone.

And you’re left behind wondering what it is about you that keeps driving them to leave.

It happened with your dad, with his new wife and their perfect kids - the boys he always wanted, who he never had to force himself to like. The dream family he abandoned you to pursue. It happened with Jamie, with all the girls he saw after you, with the way he never even looked your way again, even after all the secrets you shared, and the promises he made. With all those other boys who never saw you as anything more than a fabricated story to spread for a few brownie points with their buddies in the locker room.

It will happen again.

These feelings you have for Luke - the comfort he gives, the contentment, the ease in conversation, the warmth he bathes you in until your skin prunes and he seeps in through the cracks - they’re better kept to yourself. It’s easier that way, to keep this whole heart under lock and key, not giving anyone a chance to break parts off and keep it for themselves.

It’s almost perfect the way it is.

Safe, even from the clutches of the boy who pieced it back together, brick by laborious brick.

“There isn’t long left of the summer, anyway,” you go for a nonchalant shrug, but your shoulders feel heavy, and it turns out more like an arduous huff. “I doubt he’s shy of female attention back in Jersey, he’ll forget I ever existed before he even knows it.”

“You should talk to him,” Ellie suggests, “At least let him know where you stand, even if it’s to tell him things can’t go further.”

The thought of it is too daunting. Looking into those gleaming green eyes and laying your heart on the line.

You can pretend all you want to Ellie, to yourself, even, that you wouldn’t want more, but you don’t think you could keep up the show with him.

“He deserves at least that.”

And damn it, she’s right.

Maybe he even deserves a proper chance.

Luke never thought he’d regret kissing you for any reason, but he’s wishing he had practiced some restraint up in your room, earlier.

If he hadn’t advanced on you, had let you pack your bag and got you out of the house before Ellie and Jack got back, he could have followed through on his plan of action for the day.

A plan he’d been hyping himself up for, all week - getting you on your own, talking things out, maybe even asking you out. Properly. Not just dinner at the mall, but a real date. Planned, perfected. A fancy dinner, or a trip to the movies. A picnic blanket laid out somewhere with a nice view, and an abundance of your favourite snacks.

He wants to kiss you without having to hide it, anymore.

He wants to walk with you tucked under his arm. Wants to have you in his lap when there’s too many people over at the house, and the group are struggling for space on the couches in the den.

He also sort of wants peace of mind, but what’s that compared to not having to sneak around, anymore.

He’d made his mind up in the morning, waking up beside you at 5am, rousing you from your sleep with soft mutterings of your name, and lips pressed to your cheek until he could feel you smile.

“Hi,” your voice had been croaky, and your movements slow, shuffling against him as your skin became illuminated by the soft glow of the rising sun slipping through the gap in the curtains. Your legs had been tangled with his under the sheets, and you did little to untangle them, and he was tempted to lock his so that you couldn’t.

“Hey,” he mumbled, lips still moving against your skin, nipping at your cheek, your jaw, your throat, and your fingers rose until they clutched at the back of his hair, curls wrapping around them as you held him in place.

“What time is it?”

“Around five,” his own hands landed on your waist, slipping under the hem of your tank, and trying to savour the warmth of your skin, your body hot from being against his all night. “Figured you’d need to be a little earlier today with it being Ellie’s birthday and all.”

“Thank you,” you used your soft grip on his curls to tug, until his face left the crook of your neck, and you blinked softly, smiled sweetly, and he felt his heart beat at twice the normal speed. You leant up and kiss him, straight on the lips, and he smiled against you just as you pulled away.

He felt cold all over as soon as you detached yourself, and he rolled onto his side to watch as you stood, arms raised to stretch and lifting the bottom of your tank top to rise up your belly.

He felt robbed. Like he deserved longer with you, and it had been as you crawled back over your side of his bed, and had kissed him once more before leaving, that he had decided he needed to do something about it.

His original plan had been to steal you away at some point in the night, everyone else too distracted by the party to notice or care, but being teamed up with you to go get decorations seemed like it would work too.

Until Jack came back and fucked his plans up.

Jack said that he would go get the food with Turcs, that he had already paid for a cake, and he had to show his ID when he picked it up. He said Ellie shouldn’t have to do anything, and that you would be the best person for her to do nothing with, which left Luke picking up decorations with Cole.

It wasn’t that he minded Cole’s company, but Cole isn’t you.

He probably could have tucked Cole under his arm as they walked side by side through target and picked up a bunch of of banners and streamers, given the logistics of their height difference, but it wouldn’t have been as cute.

He has managed to get a lot of unexpected information though. And of course, his only thought is that he can’t wait to share it with you.

Cole tells Luke how he and Ellie have only been hanging out all summer to make Jack jealous.

He bites his tongue to refrain from telling him that sort of trick doesn’t work on his brother, but Cole seems too pleased with himself for Luke to rain on his parade, and he finds it kind of funny that everyone’s been working to get the two of them to wake up to their feelings, not just you and him.

Cole might have even ended up putting more effort into it than you and Luke did, acting as a go-between for Jack and Ellie, and raising the stakes for both of them to make a move.

“And what do you get out of any of that?” Luke chuckles as he works at taking the banners out of their plastic wrapping, Cole taking the plastic and putting it straight into the trash.

The smile drops as soon as Cole says your name, though, and Luke’s hands stop in place. “Ellie’s been giving me insider info. I’m primed and ready to make a move.”

“Wait, I’m sorry,” Luke frowns, “You like her? Since when?”

He tries not to let the panic stirring in his chest reflect on his features, but it’s hard.

Cole and Ellie had been hanging out for a long time, now. He can’t have been into you that whole time, right? Not without saying anything to anyone else - Cole is kind of mouthy, like that. Word would have got back around to Luke if Cole’s liked you for months.

“Since I met her. She’s a really cool girl, really funny.” Cole scoffs, hand reaching out for more trash. “And she’s, like, one of the hottest girls I’ve ever seen, you know?”

Of course Luke knows. He’s seen the most beautiful sides to you - soaked head to toe from a garden hose, eyes crinkled from laughter, or the aftermath, curled up on a couch with just-dry hair and heart opening up to him for the very first time. In an orange baseball cap and a Mets jersey, twirling as you exit one of the fitting rooms you had found in the mall, a big cute grin on your face as you allow yourself to dorky with Luke, and only with Luke. Sat out on the fountain at the club, skin bathed in the glistening moonlight and your heart thumping in the palm of his tender hands. Laid beside him in the early hours of the morning, soft snores falling from between your lips and hair splayed out against his pillow.

But he can’t exactly say that to Cole - who has apparently been working to pursue you this entire time without Luke ever catching on.

“Ellie says I’m her type, so I don’t know why I’m stressing about asking her out-,”

“Out like on a date? Like you want to date her?”

Luke knows he sounds like an idiot without Cole giving him the weirded-out look he gives, but he’s starting to lose out to the dread that is flooding the pit of his stomach. He stumbles to follow Cole out of the kitchen and into the living room, where they had set up a step ladder before to hang the decorations.

“You really think I’d be trying so hard if I didn’t?” Cole scoffs, “Catch up, Luke, I’m trying to end my summer with a girlfriend-,”

“She’s hardly girlfriend material.”

The words taste sour in the mouth that moves before his brain has time to think - sour enough that he has to try not to grimace, wishing he could suck them back in and swallow them back down like they never came out.

“What do you mean?” Cole asks, his features dropping into a frown. “I thought you two were getting along.”

“We are,” he agrees, despite it seeming like an understatement, but words are starting to pour out before he can filter them, and he can already feel himself getting carried away. “And she’s a nice enough person, don’t get me wrong, but I just don’t think it would work out with her like that.”

“You think she’d be hard work?”

He knows you are. But he likes you that way. He doesn’t want anyone else to worm their way into your good graces like he has.

“Yeah,” he huffs, “She’s always out, and always flirting with guys at the club, you’ve seen it.” He knows he’s pulled that out of his ass, but what else is he supposed to say?

“I think she’s just fishing for tips, Lukey,” Cole chuckles, and Luke’s cheeks flush with humiliation at the pet name. He feels small, like he’s just something that Caufield can steam roll straight over without much protest. “Can’t blame her, some of those guys have deep pockets.”

“I’ve just heard stuff, you know.”

“Like what?”

Jesus Christ, Cole, he thinks, wishing he’d just take his word for it and get over you, already. As if it would ever be that easy. He doesn’t particularly enjoy saying these things out loud - using the words you had so carefully confided in him against you - but there’s a panicked desperation creeping up within him, becoming possible to ignore, and it’s cancelling out all other rational thoughts in his brain.

The second you find out Cole Caufield is interested, you’ll no longer have any need for Luke.

Luke, who your every conversation with starts or ends with some sort of bickering argument, who annoys you to no end, who riles you up like it’s what he was put on this very Earth to do.

Cole is charming, he’s always had an ease when it comes to talking to girls that Luke never quite found in himself, and he’ll win you over in no time - and that’s if you aren’t interested, already.

But Luke is building up to that.

He’s been building up to it all summer.

Even before then, without entirely knowing it.

The two of you have something, even if you refuse to admit it. You wouldn’t have kissed him all those times, otherwise, wouldn’t have come to his bed in the middle of the storm those weeks ago, and almost every night since he came back from Vegas, wouldn’t have slept with him before he left, wouldn’t have begged him to give in to you - not if you weren’t interested in him.

You’ve shared parts of yourself he knows no one’s ever seen, and he can’t let that be for nothing.

But now the rug is being pulled out from under him, and all he can do to cling on to the edges with an idiotic possessiveness that curls his upper lip and brings his heart to a screeching stop.

“Like how she’s with a different guy every week at Michigan. Apparently she gets around.”

“Oh,” Cole frowns, and Luke watches as his face turns, his own fists clenching at the urge to take it all back, to defend her and call Cole out on his immediate shift despite it being his own fault.

He’s made his bed, now. He has to lie in it.

“Ellie didn’t mention all that stuff.”

“She’s hardly gonna call her friend easy.” Luke scoffs, and he thinks the way the words are spat out of his mouth is some sort of reflection of the way his lips don’t want to say them. Like they’re disgusted that his brain would even conceptualise them enough to be spoken. “Especially when you were doing her a favour with the whole Jack thing.”

“I don’t know man, I think you’ve got the wrong idea of her.”

Luke rolls his eyes as Cole makes his way back toward the step ladder, banner in hand, jaw tensing as he scrambles to think of something to stop this.

“She’s not the kind of girl you date,” he manages to call out, despite the tremor in his voice, every fibre of his being fighting the words from being spoken. “And there’s like a month left before we all leave for camp, so if you were to start anything, it would just be for the summer, anyway.”

“Jack and Ellie have started something with just a month left.”

“That’s not the same thing, they’ve been into each other for years, they text and call all the time, nothing’s really changing for them except for a label, you really think you’re gonna keep that up after just a couple months of knowing her?”

He reaches out for the other end of the banner and holds it as Cole positions his side, lip tugged between his teeth and a frown on his face as he mulls Luke’s words over.

“You’ll be in Montreal, and she’ll be here, and you’ll be focusing on hockey, and training, and you won’t have time to keep up something serious with a girl you barely know.”

He tries not to think about how it’s the same distance to Jersey - an almost 2 hour flight - and how he’d be doing the exact same thing, swept up into the season before he knows it and potentially doing nothing but letting you down.

“And you know what she’s like, she’d find something to argue about with a monk, for God’s sake,” he scoffs, brows furrowed so hard he can feel the tension in his forehead, “All you’d get from her is an earache. She’s not worth it.”

Cole turns to narrow his eyes at Luke, but something else over the top of his head catches his attention, instead, and the surprised muttering of your name turns Luke’s blood to ice.

Frozen in place, eyes wide, heart thudding in his ears, he waits with bated breath for something to happen - for Cole to break into a shit-eating grin, and tell him he’s just fucking around. For the ground to swallow him up. For anyone - literally anybody else - to respond.

But your voice carries straight over to him. Travels through his ears, ricochets around the cavern of his skull, shoots down his spine and makes his legs go numb.

“We uhm,” your tone is shaky, and Luke, for the first time, maybe, ever, hates the way you sound. “We were just checking if you needed a hand with the decorations.”

He turns slowly, and it’s Ellie’s eyes he meets first. Pointed, narrowed, betrayed, even, she glares at him like he’s just kicked a wounded animal right in front of her.

“You can’t decorate your own party,” Cole laughs from behind Luke, as Luke’s attention drifts slowly your way.

His eyes meet yours, and he can see the watery glaze over them from across the room. Can see your throat working to gulp down your hurt as your lips twist.

Ellie says something in response, and he vaguely hears Cole speak too, but all that he can focus on is the blood rushing around his head, a whooshing and whirring that makes him feel like his ears are about to pop, or his brain is about to explode. His lips part to speak, to say something, anything, to explain what you had clearly overheard, but your gaze drops to the floor, and he sees your walls build back up right before his eyes, brick by brick, cementing themselves back in place.

He’s such an idiot.

He’s such a monumental asshole.

The last time he had seen tears in your eyes had been sat by the fountain at the club - he had wiped them away, and had promised you he had your back, and you had just caught him having anything but with Cole. And all that after you had told him why you had ever been hesitant to let anyone in the first place.

He doesn’t think he’s ever messed up like this.

He steps forward, unsteady on his feet, and you step back, still not able to look him in the eye again, before turning on your heel and making your way upstairs.

Luke hears the stomp of your feet as you go, watches Ellie go after you, wishing it could be him, and stands, motionless, until he feels a firm pat on his back.

“Don’t worry, man,” Cole says, “She’s cool, she’ll be over it after a couple of drinks.”

Luke doesn’t even think he says anything coherent when he responds, a grunt or a grumble - it can’t have been words, because he can’t even form them in his brain.

“I’m gonna ask her out tonight, anyway,” Cole chuckles, “So what you said won’t even mean anything.”

Great.

He’s just fucked things up with one of the greatest people in his life, the girl of his dreams, and it doesn’t even mean anything.

Not the kind of girl you date.

Not worth it.

All that from the boy who supposedly had your back not that long ago. The first guy in a long time, maybe even ever, to make you feel secure, and safe, and like you could trust someone again.

Luke thinks you’re an earache.

He thinks you’re argumentative, and only worthy of a brief, summer fling - that keeping up anything with you when he goes home would be a waste of the time and energy he should be dedicating to hockey.

And he’s probably right, you think.

It’s only what you’ve been telling yourself in the back of your mind all summer. Self-deprecating thoughts about how he’s far too good for you, and you’re only interesting when he can’t have you, and he’ll get tired of you before you can even realise he’s already drifted off.

Ellie had told you all the way back in your freshman year that the two of you weren’t a good fit. Jack had been telling Luke the same all summer. And you had only just managed to convince yourself otherwise on the drive back to the lake house from the mall.

You can hardly blame him for being two steps ahead.

You think that’s why you can’t bring yourself to cry - the sting of tears prickling persistently but never pushing through, eyes watering so much you can’t even put on mascara without the fear of it trickling down your face and ruining the rest of your makeup.

You’d tried crying, before. Had ran up to your room and had sat on the other side of your bed, hidden from the door and knees pressed to your chest. Your breath had stuttered, and your lips had trembled, but the tears wouldn’t fall, try as you might to have made them.

And when Ellie had found you, had sat beside you with an arm stretched over your shoulders, you had tried, then, too.

And it would be your luck that as soon as you press the inky substance into your lashes that they would finally fall, so you’ve been sat trying to wish them away for the past ten minutes - the tube clutched in a death grip in your hands as you sit at the makeshift vanity you and Ellie had set up all those weeks ago when you had moved in, taking deep breaths and willing the hurt to go away.

It’s where Luke finds you after knocking with no response - you barely remember hearing it - shuffling wordlessly into the room and perching himself down behind you on the edge of the bed.

You see him in the mirror, your eyes darting away before his can meet them in the reflection, and you stiffen your shoulders, bracing yourself for the blow.

“I didn’t mean any of what you heard.”

You breathe out a humourless chuckle, bitterness settling into the pit of your stomach and your lips trembling with resistance.

“I mean it, I don’t think those things about you, I promise, I-,”

“It doesn’t even matter,” you cut him off with a roll your eyes, pushing the mascara tube toward the mirror and figuring you’re just gonna go without.

“I was panicking, and it just came out like word vomit, and I feel really sick about it, and really stupid, and I wish I could take it all back-,”

“I said it doesn’t matter.” You meet his eyes this time, trying not to fall for just how distraught he looks behind you in the mirror.

“Of course it matters,” he frowns, and you look away as soon as he pushes himself up, knowing he’s coming for you. “I need you to know that I would never have said those things-,”

“You said them, Luke,” you scoff, “What do you mean you would never have said them, you literally did.”

“I know-,”

“It doesn’t matter-,”

“Can you stop saying that!” He frowns, appearing at the side of you, hands gripping your shoulders to get you to face him. “I’m trying to explain this to you, I’m trying to fix things, and you’re-,”

“What, giving you an earache?”

All those weeks ago, the backs of your legs sticking to the bench in the booth in the restaurant, leaning over the table and sparring back and forth with him, you had convinced yourself that he liked it.

That the glint in his eye was indication of as much, the twitch at the corner of his lips, the way he would bite back without a second to think about it, and had matched your every effort to get one over on him.

You had thought the two of you had something real. Something you had never found with anyone else. Quick wit, and similar senses of humour, shared boundaries, a mutual level of respect.

You had thought his persistence had been something that would stick.

And clearly, you thought wrong.

He whispers out an utterance of your name that hurts like fingers wrapped around your throat - clenching and squeezing until you go hot in the head.

“I keep saying it doesn’t matter because it doesn’t, Luke. You were right, we wouldn’t have been able to keep this up past the summer, anyway.”

Luke’s brows furrow your way, eyes darting between yours as his lips part to speak, but nothing comes out.

“You’re going back to Jersey soon, I’m going back to school, it was fun while it lasted but things have run their course.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“We both do.” You shrug, wearing your feigned indifference like armour, just like you know so well to do. “You don’t say the things you said on a whim, Luke, some part of you has to believe that they’re true.”

“I don’t-,”

“I’m giving you a chance to cut things off with no hard feelings-,”

“No hard feelings?” His disbelief cuts through you a little, the hurt in his eyes and the scrunch of his features, too, but if you give in, now, you’re setting yourself up for a world of hurt.

You had barely just built up the courage to give your heart to him, in whatever shape he had scrunched and squeezed it into before, and he had already managed to bruise it. Giving in will only result in it breaking.

“I have feelings. I have feelings for you. And I know you have feelings for me, too, you can’t pretend you don’t-,”

“It doesn’t-,”

“It matters.” You don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound like this - so sure, so serious, so raw - and when he takes a hold of your face, hands cupping your jaw, tender but firm, and forces you to look at him, you see the same in his features. “Cole is into you. And he said he was gonna ask you out, and I panicked trying to convince him not to. I should have had faith that you would have turned him down. And I should have been honest, and I should have told him that I’m into you. More than into you, I think I-,”

“I wouldn’t have turned him down.”

You lie with such ease that it makes your heart ache more than the truth, but it’s the only thing you can do to protect it.

If you let Luke carry on, you’ll let him back in.

You can’t let him back in.

Not with the tears that now well his eyes, or the way his face drops like you’ve just struck him in the gut - pained and powerless.

“What?”

Your hands shake in your lap so much you have to clench them shut, knuckles turning white as Luke’s touch slips from your skin.

“If he asked me out, I would have said yes.”

Luke runs a hand through his hair, blinking repeatedly before he tears his gaze away from yours, and you feel like you can see his walls building - a sight that should flood you with relief, but doesn’t.

“So, what, everything we’ve been through together, all the things we’ve done, all the things we’ve said, you’re just gonna throw it all away like none of it matters?”

You can hear the hurt - can feel it even, clawing at your skin as if it’s trying to find a way to dig past the barriers you’ve put in place.

But you have to do this.

“I guess not.”

Luke was always going to hurt you. Was going to burrow himself through whatever cracks you left bare to him, weasel his way into your heart and tear it from the inside out. And maybe you were always going to do the same to him.

“Alright then,” he mutters, robotic and distant, with his eyes stuck on the floor.

He stands from where he had been crouched beside you, backing away before turning completely, and he walks away in long strides, the door to your bedroom closing with a soft click behind him.

The tear that falls when he’s gone does so slowly. You feel it trail all the way down your cheek from the corner of your eye, until it drops, almost audibly, from your jaw and onto your lap.

And then the rest follow, uncontrollable and unrelenting.

Inevitable, just like he had said.

A/N: so...... please don't hate me I wrote the ending first lmao!! I imagine this will cause riots in the streets tbh but please let me know what you think hahahah this whole story has become my baby!! she's problematic but she's mine!!!!

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #luke hughes fluff #*writing #luke hughes one shot #luke hughes fanfiction

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rafescvntyclubgf · 3 months ago

Text

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕨𝕠: 𝔼𝕟𝕘𝕒𝕘𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥

𝙽𝙷𝙻!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙵𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚌é!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warning: swearing

📖 based on an ask from @babygorewhore: Haiiiii I’d love to request a little fluffy December Rafey piece. Maybe we’re celebrating our engagement because I’ve always wanted to be proposed to in the winter 🥹

Masterlist

Rafe’s POV:

The rink smells like ice and childhood memories. Usually, I’m tuned in to the sharp edges of my skates cutting through frozen water, the slap of the puck, the sound of a hundred fans chanting in unison. But tonight? Tonight, none of that shit matters. Tonight, I’m just a guy in love, watching my fiancé skate toward me with the brightest smile I’ve ever seen in my life.

I still can’t believe it. My mom’s ring glitters on her hand like a beacon, catching the overhead lights with every wobbling stride she takes. It feels surreal. Moments ago, I’d dropped to one knee on this very ice. No cameras. No press. Just her and me. And the answer that made my world spin.

“Yes," she whispered through her tears— voice shaking, just like her little finger while I was sliding the ring onto it.

Now here we are.

The public rink is swirling to life: kids pressed against the boards, eyes wide as they watch me push towards the net in my date night outfit. Their little eyes widen as they look up at me. But I'm not the guy they've seen on TV, all cold stares and clenched jaws; split lipped, screaming at some jackass on the other side of the blue-line. Tonight, I'm a man who can't stop smilin’. Not when she's out there, teetering in her rented skates like a baby deer, determination written all over her pretty face.

She’s adorable. Not exactly a pro on the ice, but the effort counts for everything. Every time she stumbles, my heart jumps, but she always catches herself, laughing at how unsteady she feels. I’ve played in packed arenas, faced down some of the toughest assholes in the league, but watching her? This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Not because she’s bad — she’s perfect. It's hard because I'm so damn distracted by how delighted she looks.

"Come on, baby girl," I tease, waving her forward. "You got this."

Her eyes narrow, mischievous but determined. She's going to try like hell. She wants to score so damn bad on me. I can tell.

But tonight, I'm feeling generous.

She gets closer, the tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration. The kids on the side are cheering her on—tiny fists banging on the boards. I bite back a smirk as she takes a shot. It's slow, the puck sliding toward me, waffling like a shot from a kindergartener… like it's out for a lazy Sunday stroll…

I could stop it. Should stop it? But where's the fun in that? I poke my stick just enough to miss, letting the puck glide between my legs into the goal, putting up a slight struggle. The kids erupt into cheers, jumping up and down. She throws her hands in the air victoriously.

"I scored!" she shouts, eyes wide with disbelief. “Did you see that?” She asks the kids and they scream more.

I skate out to meet her, catching her waist in my hands and pulling her close. "You got lucky," I drawl; a smile tugging on my frozen lips just begging for hers.

"Oh, sure. Lucky," she teases, rolling her eyes. "You totally didn't let me win, Rafe."

"Didn't have to." I lean in, pressing my forehead to hers. "You're just that good, princess.

Her laughter bubbles up, and before she can protest, I kiss her. Soft, sweet. Whistles and applause ring from the crowd around us.

When we finally pull away, she's breathless from more than just the chilly air. I brush a stray piece of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear under her hat. "Ready to get off this ice before you fall and break somethin’, pretty?"

"Probably a good idea, baby.”

We skate to the bench, and I help her unlace her skates, my fingers moving quick despite the cold biting them. Her feet are ice, I pull them into my lap, rubbing them between my hands to warm them up while she scrunches her nose. She watches me, eyes twinkling, full of something I can't quite put a finger on but know I feel too.

"You don't have to do that," she says, but doesn't make any move to stop me.

"I want to," I reply as I tilt in, pressing a kiss on her cold little nose.

We leave the rink hand in hand, crossing the street to a restaurant that feels too fancy for how we’re dressed but fuck it… This is our night.

We’re led to a table by the fireplace. The flames flicker, casting an amber glow over everything. It’s cozy, intimate — the perfect spot for us.

We order drinks—something warm and a sweet— somethin’ I would never get but she swears it’s good. And my baby’s right, she's always right…

She holds hers between her hands, soaking up the heat, and I can't stop staring. The ring catches the light again, and it hits me all over. She said ‘yes’. She's going to be my wife.

"What?" she asks as she catches me in the act.

"Nothin’, sweetheart," I lie but I'm a terrible fuckin’ liar.

"Tell me," she smiles as she leans in closer, making my heart beat faster.

"I'm just happy," I admit shrugging nonchalantly. But there’s nothing nonchalant about it. It's the biggest deal. The best moment of my life. "M’really happy, princess,” my voice breaks.

She reaches across the table, resting her warm hand in mind, my thumb quickly fiddling with the diamond as I she lives in my words for a bit. "Me too, Rafe."

"I love you," I whisper, the words easy and true.

She looks back at me, eyes brimming with tears mirroring mine. "I love you too."

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lukesvangelista · 3 months ago

Text

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧ʷˢ²

in which will's arm becomes your canvas in the moments you need it most.

warnings; anxiety, bullying (pre-school), BRIEF mention of parents fighting, but other than that, pure fluff. if you can think of others, please don't hesitate to let me know!

You had met Will Smith in pre-school. On the first day that you had stepped inside the classroom, you had been captivated by his blond hair and blue eyes. His hair had been neatly cut, safely tucked behind his ears, while his eyes matched perfectly with his charming smile. Even at four years old, he had you wrapped around his finger.

You didn't get the chance to talk to him, however, until the winter of that school year. You had always been the anxious type, finding it hard to reach out and speak to your classmates. So, you didn't. Ultimately, that led to a group of boys catching you on the slide, alone, during recess one day. It was a typical Massachusetts day for that time of year - a white blanket of snow enveloped the state, and the ice on the ground was as smooth as glass. But in that moment, none of that had mattered. A brown-haired boy in the group had approached first, asking the question everyone wanted to know the answer to.

"Why don't you talk?"

Those words stung. It wasn't like you didn't want to. It just felt like your mouth was zipped shut and someone had thrown out the key to unlock it every time you tried to speak.

So, naturally, you didn't answer.

A few moments later, another boy stepped forward, "Aww, is the little baby too afraid to speak?"

You took a deep breath, trying to gather yourself, but it was clear that you weren't going to get out of this one easily. Despite your observation, you carefully hopped off of the slide you were perched on and turned your back to the boys as you attempted to walk away. You had only made it a few steps when you felt a hard shove from behind - one that made you fall face first onto the ground. Your face burrowed itself into the thick layer of snow that had blanketed the ground, the cold powder stinging your face. You tried to burrow into the safety of your heavy winter coat, but not even that worked.

You could hear the muffled laughs of the boys behind you, one shouting, "Mute freak!" and the other shouting, "Scaredy-cat!" Suddenly, however, a third voice had joined the conversation. The voice was both recognizable and unrecognizable to you, both comforting yet oddly familiar. That was enough for you to gather the strength to look up from the ground.

"Leave her alone!"

It was Will.

His neatly-trimmed blond hair had grown shaggy over time, the wisps of it curling at the nape of his neck. A white winter hat was covering the rest, but you could almost see the way it was curled at the top of his head. A flame of anger was dancing in his usually icy blue eyes, and his smile was no longer charming, only frustrated.

He shoved the two boys back, but not hard enough for them to fall to the ground. That didn’t matter, however. Will had the upper hand - he had a few inches on both of the boys, which meant that in their eyes, he towered over them. Without any other words being spoken, the two boys ran off in fear, occasionally looking back only to find Will glaring at them as he carefully walked over to you.

As he approached you, he offered a compassionate smile, one that would’ve made you feel better if your face wasn’t going numb from the snow. He grabbed your hands and helped you sit up, his gloved hands immediately going to gently brush the snow off of your face.

You flinched in surprise, but the soft material felt comforting against your rosy cheeks. He glanced at you as if to ask if it was okay for him to continue, and you nodded softly. Once he was done, he wiped his snow-covered gloves on the material of his puffy coat - no doubt one his mom made him wear - and offered a gentle hand to help you up off of the ground.

“I’m William, but I go by Will,” he smiled, his hand lingering in yours until he knew for sure that you were safely off of the ground. When he let go, your hands immediately went to fumble with the hem of your hoodie in both anxiety and relief.

You weren’t sure what, but something washed over you, and timidly yet undoubtedly, you raised your voice.

“I’m Y/N.”

And that was the first time you talked to one of your classmates. That classmate just happened to be Will Smith.

As the year went on, you and Will grew inseparable. He continued to be the only classmate you talked to, but he didn't seem to mind. Everyone around you wondered why Will received your special treatment, but the truth of the matter was that he was the only one who made you feel safe. He never judged you for your anxiety, but instead welcomed it because even at four years old, he knew it was apart of you.

Later in spring, you were having a particularly bad day when Will handed you a pack of markers. He had recently turned five, a milestone you were still waiting on, and he received the package of colored ink as one of his gifts. He opened the table's cubby to reveal some coloring books, but as he placed them down, he felt your hand grab his wrist.

Without a word, you had taken the cap off of a light blue marker and began drawing a flower on his skin. Will hesitated for a moment, but when he took sight of your face, he could see the way your eyes visibly drained of worry as you traced the ink. So, naturally, he continued to let you do it.

Little did you know that that tradition would last for fourteen years.

Even at 19, the tradition of drawing on Will’s skin had become second nature, something neither of you ever questioned anymore. He constantly had markings on his skin from you, but he didn’t mind. It was a quiet way for you to find your balance in waves of emotions and for him to remind you that you were never alone.

It had been a long day for you. You had come over after a family dinner that had left your nerves frayed, your usual quietness amplified to the point that Will could tell something was wrong the second you walked in. Now, hours later, you sat on his bed, your legs cocooned into your chest as if that would provide you with any sense of comfort. Your mind was racing with more bad thoughts than good. The faint glow of “Ratatouille” illuminated the room through the screen of Will’s laptop, but neither of you seemed too interested.

Will glanced at you, catching the way your knees were pulled up to your chest, your fingers picking at the hem of your sweatshirt like they had the first time he met you. Without a word, he reached over to his desk, opened his top drawer, and grabbed the same pack of markers that had been sitting there since you were kids — the ones he had received for his 5th birthday — and held them out to you.

You glanced up at him slowly, your eyes meeting his blue ones. The flames of worry dancing in them almost matched the yellow marker you had grabbed from him. Will leaned back against his headboard, watching you through half-lidded eyes. “You’ve been quiet tonight,” he said softly, his voice breaking the silence but not the calm.

With the marker in your hand, you forced arm down until his wrist was stretched out in your lap. You were focused, your brow furrowed in that familiar way as you worked on filling the empty space of his skin with tiny, intricate designs.

You didn’t look up, the marker stilling for only a second before continuing its careful strokes. “Just thinking,” you murmured, the words barely audible over the scratch of ink against his skin. Will sighed softly, gently grabbing your chin with his free hand to get you to look at him.

“About what?”

You hesitated, your hand pausing again. Your eyes flickered up to meet his, and for a moment, you looked like you might change the subject. But then you sighed and went back to drawing, your voice low, “Dreams, I guess. The future. If my parents stop fighting. If I’ll ever feel… well, less like this.”

Will didn’t need to ask what this meant. He’d been your best friend long enough to know—this was the restlessness, the anxiety, the weight you carried in moments like these. Hell, it was the weight you carried all the time. He watched as you traced another flower on his wrist, your hand steady despite the storm you clearly felt inside.

His heart broke, but he didn’t falter.

“You will,” he said simply, the steadiness in his voice making you chuckle slightly.

Your lips curved into the faintest smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes, “You make it sound easy.”

Will smiled softly, the compassion he’d always held for you radiating through him, “It’s not. But you’ll get there,” he said, leaning forward just enough so that your knees touched. “And until then, you can keep putting your dreams on me.” He tilted his head, gesturing toward the growing garden of flowers and stars you were creating.

You let out a soft laugh, the sound warming the room. It was the first time Will had heard you laugh all day, “Dreams?“

Will shook his head, his grin small but sincere, “These are the outlines of what’s in your head, Y/N/N — your dreams, your worries, all of it. You’ve been doing it since we were five years old.”

You laughed, your eyes meeting his again, “But what makes you think they’re my dreams?”

“They constantly change,” he explained, a wisp of his blond curls falling in front of his eyes. He looked exactly like the four year old you had met on the playground that winter day. “When we were six, you drew rocket ships because all you wanted was to be an astronaut. And when we were 11, I constantly had drawings of cats and dogs on my wrists because you wanted to be a veterinarian. And last year, you drew the Boston College logo over and over again because you wanted me to be happy at B.C.”

“And what about my worries?”

“They remain more steady, but I don’t mind carrying them for awhile,” he whispered softly, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Your marker stilled, and for a moment, you just looked at him, your chest feeling a little lighter in a way only Will could manage. Then, with a soft smile, you added one last detail to the sunflower you’d been working on—a tiny heart at the center.

“You’re so corny,” you said, placing his arm back in his lap.

Will smirked, lifting it to admire your work, “And you’re the one who just drew a heart. Who’s corny now?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the quiet laugh that slipped out. You tucked your legs under you, leaning back against the headboard beside him. He might’ve been corny, but he meant more to you than you could ever know,“You’ll always be my favorite sketchbook, you know.”

Will nudged your shoulder lightly, the marker still in his other hand, “And you’ll always be a flower on my skin.”

Neither of you said anything else after that, the room settling into a comfortable silence. But the outlines of your dreams stayed etched on Will’s arm, just like they always would.

a/n; this might be one of my favorite works that i’ve ever written. i hope you guys enjoyed this as much as i did!

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puckinghischier · 4 months ago

Text

Quick Study

Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

WARNING: SMUT! minors DNI. 18+. unprotected sex, fingering, oral fem!recieving, oral m!receiving, p in v, smut with the smallest sliver of plot. praise kink if you squint sideways and upside down.

summary: quinn loves to help you experience new things

notes: so…i don’t know what happened i think i blacked out tbh. this is kinda on theme with the request but also kinda not?? more so inexperienced!reader than in innocent!reader. idk my fingers had a mind of their own okay? enjoy 🫶🏼

request: I read a post that headcanons Quinn getting off on teaching you things and how to do things well, and that has just convinced me he has a thing for innocence… feel like that could be a great premise for smut

[4.4k]

Quinn has always been praised for his patience and willingness to teach those around him. It’s likely what landed him his new captain residency, but he likes teaching. He always said if he didn’t make it in the league he’d like to be a teacher and a coach, spreading his knowledge of history and hockey to the next generation.

What he didn’t realize until he met you, though, was how much he really enjoyed teaching.

He loved explaining the game to you, seeing your eagerness to pay attention and learn for him. Watching you glance at the cheat sheet he made you on your phone during games, making sure you’re able to keep up with the various penalties called, has him puffing out his chest a bit.

He loved explaining to you the most recent book he was reading, telling you all about the time period and the historical context of whatever story piqued his interest that week. He’d notice the empty space on the bookshelf after he finishes the book, glancing over to your side of the bed to discover the book with your bookmark tucked neatly between its pages, heart swelling when you’d bring it up over dinner, wanting to learn about his interests.

What he loved the most, though, was figuring out everything he could teach you.

He knew when the two of you first met that you were fairly inexperienced, not having ever really dated much before, but once he realized how inexperienced you really were? His mind went wild with the possibilities.

There was a certain pride he felt in being the person to guide you through all of these new experiences, never rushing you, always making sure you were one hundred percent comfortable before he tried anything new. He encouraged you to ask as many questions as you needed, telling you there’s never any reason to feel embarrassed around him.

He’d note the way you’d sit there and take in every word as he explained the different scenarios and sensations certain actions could elicit from your body, eyes wide and hungry. The second he would open the conversation for any questions or clarifications he could see the nervousness creep in, almost retracting into yourself out of embarrassment.

“I just…I don’t know exactly what you mean. You can…you know…feel that just from your mouth?” you’d ask him, voice barely above a whisper and eyes darting all over the room.

“Oh, darling, I can’t wait for you to experience the amount of things I can make you feel with my mouth,” he would nearly groan out, both angered and thankful that no other guy you’ve ever been with allowed you to experience all that the body has to offer.

Your cheeks would instantly heat, but not out of embarrassment. Quinn could see the gears turning in your head, the slight adjustment of your thighs coming closer together hinting to him how much you’re enjoying the picture painted in your head.

The day you told Quinn you had never experienced an orgasm, though? He was nearly seeing red.

“What do you mean you’ve never ‘gotten there’” he repeated your own words, not realizing the harsh tone of his voice until you looked away from him, watching your face contort into an expression of guilt.

“I- I don’t know. I mean, the couple of times I’ve actually…you know…went there with a guy, it never really happened. I guess I was doing something wrong, I don’t know,” you spoke softly, shrugging meekly.

Quinn took a deep breath, calming himself the way he would on the ice, before scooting closer to you and grabbing your hands. “You could never do anything wrong, you hear me? The fact that the fools you were with before were too sorry to make sure you were taken care of, and apparently didn’t know what the hell foreplay was, is not your fault.”

Nodding slowly, you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth and chewed on it lightly. “I think…I want you to show me,” you said so quietly Quinn thought he imagined it.

“Say that again?” he needed you to clarify, wanting to make sure he’s not just hearing what his dick wants to hear.

You inhale, preparing yourself to put on your brave face and finally find the courage to tell a guy what you want. “I want you to show me. Teach me what it’s like. I want to experience it with you.”

And damn. If that didn’t get Quinn’s dick rock fucking hard. The idea of showing you everything you’ve been missing, everything he knows he can make you feel? He could almost come right here on the couch, never even having to touch your skin.

Quinn didn’t say a word, simply grabbing your hand and prompting you to stand, leading you to the bedroom that was practically shared at this point, considering how often you stayed at his apartment.

He sat you down on the edge of the bed, standing in front of you and looking down at your big, round eyes. He had to remind himself this was about you, and not to get too ahead of himself.

Bringing a hand up to caress your face, brushing away a small strand of hair, he rests his hand on your jaw, thumb brushing over your soft, pink lips. Using the slightest bit of pressure, he wedges his thumb in-between them, causing them to part just enough for him to slip it into your warm and inviting mouth.

He feels your tongue swirl around the tip of his finger, never once breaking eye contact with him. He closes his eyes, the image in front of him overloading his brain. The second you start to suckle on the rough pad of his digit, he jerks his hand back, surprising you.

“Sorry, did I do something wro-“

“No, never,” he interrupts you, voice low and gravely. “But this is about you and I can’t let myself get carried away.”

Opening his eyes, he sees the flush come back to your cheeks, watching the outline of your tongue rolling around in your cheek. “I want to learn,” you look at him with pleading eyes.

“I know, baby, we’re gonna get there, promise,” he assures you, catching your chin between his thumb and index finger.

You shake your head back and forth, “No, I want to learn how to please you.”

Quinn can feel every ounce of blood in his body make its way straight to his already near painful cock. The innocence and eagerness on your face making his knees buckle.

“I’ve never…given a…a blowjob before,” you stuttered, your bashfulness from earlier coming back. “I never felt like I’d do a good job, and I didn’t want to disappoint anyone and scare them away, so I always said no. But I want you to teach me. Please?” you pleaded, using your eyes to convey your willingness.

If there was ever a world record for how fast a man can come without even being touched, Quinn would say he’s a pretty close contender right now.

He clears his throat, trying to choke down the groan that nearly came out. “I- uh. Are you sure?” is all he’s able to sigh out, feeling like an idiot because he can’t even form words.

You nod your head silently, not knowing if you could find the courage to ask again.

“Fuck, baby,” Quinn shudders, swallowing thickly, bringing a hand down to readjust himself in his sweats.

Figuring you need to show some sort of initiative, you bring your hand up to replace his, cupping him over the thin material.

Quinn’s entire body jerks forward at the feeling of your small hand covering him, resting his hands on your shoulders for support.

Your breath catches, not expecting to receive such a reaction from him, but it only encourages you to keep going, squeezing just enough to apply a slight pressure to his length.

Quinn grunts, shuddering at the sensation. “Fuck, Y/N.”

The sound of his voice, a slight whine but still deep and powerful, shoots a bolt of arousal straight between your legs. You start stroking his still clothed shaft, enjoying teasing him.

“Show me what to do, Q,” you whisper seductively, his actions only growing your confidence in your actions.

With his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, he wastes no time in moving your hand and ripping the sweatpants down so roughly his dick literally springs free. He sighs at the lack of constriction, creating a sweet friction with his own hand.

Seeing him bare for the first time, you feel the extra saliva form in your mouth, wanting nothing more than to wrap your lips around him and find out how his skin tastes.

Too lost in the beauty of the man in front of you, you don’t realize he’s gazing down at you, watching how in awe you are of him.

“Babygirl, you can’t look at me like that and expect me to last longer than three seconds once you start touching me,” he snaps you out of your daze, drawing your eyes to his face.

You blush, focusing on the bedroom floor to hide your eyes from him.

Bringing his hand back up to your face, he forces you to look up at him, the intensity of the moment making you squirm.

“Touch me,” he commands, rubbing his thumb back and forth on your chin.

Following his instructions, you grasp him in your hand again, moving your hand gently across the textured skin.

You pump slowly, waiting for Quinn to tell you your next move.

“Shit, faster,” is all he whimpered, moving his hips to meet your motions.

Moving your wrist a little faster, you’re so taken with the sounds he’s making you hardly feel the bruising grip he has on your shoulder, grounding himself to you.

“Quinn, wanna taste you,” you whined, watching the precum leak from his pink tip, tongue darting out to lick your lips in anticipation.

“Okay, just-” he shudders, interrupted by a moan, “just, no teeth. And don’t take too much, hollow your mouth out a bit, and keep using your hand if you need to.”

Belly swirling with nerves and excitement, you position yourself a little farther onto the edge of the bed, face to face with his strained cock.

Taking a deep breathe, you test the waters by placing a chaste kiss on his tip, licking the salty precum off of your lips. Opening your mouth, you take the plunge and follow his instructions, hollowing out your cheeks as your mouth rolls over his length, your tongue feeling the weight of his thickness.

You look up at him as he watches you, waiting for any hint of praise in what you’re doing, wanting to make sure you’re doing it right.

“Shit, just like that, baby, keep going,” he encourages, feeling you stop when his tip tickles the back of your throat.

You will yourself not to gag, enjoying the feeling of your tongue against his cock too much. Trying to combat the feeling, you swirl your tongue around him, feeling every ridge and vein.

Quinn is fighting against every muscle in his body, from wanting to bring his hands to your head and push your mouth further onto him, to wanting to snap his hips forward and bury his dick in your throat.

“Can move a bit if you want,” he hisses out as your tongue runs across his sensitive tip once again. “Doing so good, though. Feels unreal. Don’t know how you’ve never done this before.”

You want to smile, but can’t with your mouth full of him, so you start bobbing your head instead, slow and careful. You bring your hand up to cup his balls, remembering one of your friends telling you guys seem to like that.

Quinn jerks his hips forward at the feeling, not being able to control his actions at that point, dangerously close to blowing his load down your throat.

He removes himself from your mouth, watching the spit trail down your chin. The sight is so pornographic he almost finishes anyways, digging his nails into his palms as a distraction.

“Was-,” you start, wiping the dribble off of your mouth, “was I not doing it right? I remember someone telling me once guys liked when you touched them like that. Did I scrape you with my teeth? Did I-“ your hoarse voice is abruptly cut off by Quinn shoving his hands under your arms and lifting you to your feet.

“You were amazing. Too good. If you would’ve kept doing that for even thirty more seconds I would have come in your mouth, and while the thought drives me insane, there’s only one place I want to come tonight,” he tells you, bringing his hand down to untie your soft pajama pants as he finishes his sentence, fingers ghosting over the exposed skin of your stomach.

You suck in a sharp breathe as he starts rolling the pants down your hips, exposing your simple, cotton underwear.

“Well, if I knew this is what we were doing tonight I would’ve dressed more appropriately,” you said softly, wanting nothing more than to bring your arms down to cover the exposed skin.

Quinn chuckles. “You could be wearing a diaper for all I care. I’d still be rock hard at the sight of you like this.”

“Weird, but sweet?” you respond, trying to break up the intensity you feel as you kick the bottoms off of your feet.

Amused smile on his face, Quinn shakes his head at you, toying with the hem of your shirt.

“Can I?” he asks, tugging at the thin material.

You shake your head yes, knowing there’s no going back after this moment.

“Words, babydoll, ‘member?” he mumbles, staring at your taut nipples through the shirt.

“Yes. To everything. I trust you,” you breathe out.

Quinn’s heart jumps to his throat, surprised at how excited the confession makes him. Knowing he has your complete and total trust with something as important as this adds a whole new level to what he’s about to experience with you.

The shirt is over your head before you can think twice, standing almost bare in front of him.

“Shit baby, knew you were stunning,” he starts but pauses, letting his eyes rake over every inch of exposed skin. “but think you were painted just for me,” he worships your body, trailing his fingers over the dips in your collar bones in awe, watching the goosebumps rise in their wake.

“Your turn,” you whisper, feeling the flush on your cheeks, not wanting to be the only one on display.

Not being able to take his eyes off of the smooth skin of your body, he removes the rest of his clothing before you can even blink, staring at the toned man standing in front of you.

Of course you’ve seen him shirtless before, considering he never likes to wear a shirt to bed, and having spent a weekend at his lake home a few months ago. But to see him completely naked before you is a sight you never want to forget.

Breaking the stare you both hold on each other, he moves your body to lay down on the bed, guiding you to move further up the bed as he crawls over you, stopping when your head rests on one of the million pillows.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” he pants from above you, bringing his mouth down to place wet kisses along your neck.

You inhale deeply, the feeling lighting all of your nerves on fire.

Too distracted by the feeling of his tongue darting out to swirl along your skin, you don’t notice his hand has made its way to the band of your underwear, slipping a finger just under the barrier.

“Off, take them off,” you pant out, wanting the fabric gone.

“Yes, ma’am,” he obeys, sliding the material off of your body in record time.

Quinn forgot everything he was supposed to be doing when he saw you bare before him. He could practically smell your arousal, watching your pussy glisten in the low light of the bedroom.

“Bet you taste so good, hmm?” he rasped out, sounding like a man starved.

Squirming, your body fights to find some sort of friction to ease the ache between your legs, never having felt so turned on before.

“What do I need to do? Tell me what to do, Quinny,” you whimper, wanting to know what you’re supposed to be doing, desperate for relief.

Your desperation makes his cock throb, having forgot how hard he was, too distracted by you. But to watch you writhe and whine and look to him for guidance makes him painfully aware of how much this is all affecting him.

“Absolutely nothing. Now it’s my turn to make you feel good, darling,” he all but pants, licking his lips like he’s about to eat a five-star meal.

He moves his body down yours, shamelessly dragging his lips down your warm skin, taking his time and savoring every inch.

Once he reaches your soaking cunt, he teases you with hot breaths, wanting to admire every fold and crevice before exploring you with his mouth.

Placing small kisses on both thighs, letting his scruff scratch the sensitive skin, he finally lets his mouth find your core.

Licking a clean stripe up from your hole to your clit, he grips onto your legs, baffled by how good you taste on his tongue. He dives in like he’s never known such a luxury, slurping and sucking every inch of your perfect pussy.

You’ve never felt anything like this before, the pleasure overwhelming. You don’t know what to do with yourself, feeling like you’re flailing your limbs all over the place. Moaning and grunting, Quinn can sense your frustration with not knowing how to express your pleasure.

“Touch my hair. Pull it, tug it, hold on to it. Whatever you need to do. Just touch me,” he instructs you, the vibration of his words on your clit causing you to cry out, tangling both hands into his soft hair.

Quinn groans at the delicious pull on his scalp as you use his hair as your outlet, feeling his dick brush against the comforter as it twitches. He starts to grind against the mattress, not enough to push him over the edge, but enough to provide him with temporary relief.

He continues his assault on your dripping core, not caring if he were to drown in your arousal, loving how it practically leaks out of you, not wasting a single drop.

Once he feels you’re ready, he brings a finger up, slipping it inside of you and feeling your walls instantly clench around him. The sensation only drives him further, burying his nose deeper into you, if that was even possible.

Pumping his finger in and out of you slowly, he adds a second, ensuring you’re ready for him in the minutes yet to come.

Arching your back at the fullness of two of his long, thick fingers, you carry out a particularly rough tug of his hair, earning a moan so loud you want to do whatever you can to hear it again.

“Feel so good, Q. Never – ah! – knew I could feel like this,” you groaned, digging your heels into the bare skin of his shoulders.

“C’mon, know you’re almost there. Gotta let go f’me,” he grunts against you, feeling the flutter of your walls around him.

The unfamiliar pit in your stomach grows at his voice, never wanting him to stop talking to you.

“Oh, like that, huh? Like when I talk to you, pretty girl? Like when I use my voice while pressed up against your pussy?” Quinn asks you, feeling how you clenched when he spoke.

His vulgarness made the ball of pleasure grow even larger, threatening to pop at any moment.

Quinn hummed against your clit, wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud, inhaling just enough to create a small vacuum of suction.

The new feeling caused something inside of you to explode, a pleasure burning throughout your whole body so intense you think you lose your hearing for a few moments.

Quinn rides you through your orgasm, licking and sucking every drop of physical pleasure from your body. When he removes his mouth from you, you’re laying limp under him, the look of bliss on your face sparking a feeling of pride within him.

You have no clue what just happened to your body, not registering a single thing until you felt Quinn’s fingers running through your damp hair, fluttering your heavy lids open.

“There she is. Thought you went and fell asleep on me,” he chuckles, caressing your bright red cheek.

“mmmm” you hummed out. “Think I can taste colors. What did you just do to me?” you ask him, starting to gain control over your body again.

Quinn full on laughs at you, hiding his face in his bicep. “I think that’s the nicest thing a woman has ever said to me,” he marvels down at your state, knowing he was the first man to ever make you feel like this.

You’re trying to think of a clever or sexy response, but get distracted by something poking your leg. Looking down, you notice how hard and red Quinn’s dick is, remembering that he never finished earlier when you had him in your mouth.

“Oh!” you say in surprise, drawing attention to his…situation.

“What can I say? That was the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed,” he references your intense release.

You bite your lip, almost embarrassed. “Well, I can think of something hotter,” you say quietly, reaching your hand down to grab his length.

Quinn gasps as the contact, the most sensitive he thinks he’s ever been.

“Now I want to watch you,” you can recognize the sound of your voice, not knowing what having an orgasm did to you.

Crashing his mouth onto yours, the first time he’s kissed you all night, your grips falls from his shaft, bringing your hands up to pull his shoulders closer to your body. The friction of his skin on your hard nipples alone is about to drive you over the edge again.

“Gonna wreck you, you know that? Wreck you like you’ve wrecked me,” Quinn says on your lips, bringing your bottom lip between his teeth before letting it snap back into place.

You don’t know where the sudden rush and roughness came from, but you can’t say you’re disappointed. Something within him snapped hearing you express wanting to watch him come undone under your influence, and Quinn can’t control himself anymore.

“Show me, Q. Show me what I’ve missed all this time,” your mouth is operating on a mind of its own, not sure what part of your brain has been unlocked by Quinn’s magical mouth.

Quinn growls, hiking your leg up to rest around his waist, leaving the other flat on the bed, standing on his knees as he brings his hand to line himself up with your still dripping cunt, causing your hands to fall from his body. His own hand finds one of your full breasts, toying with the nipple, causing a sharp gasp to fall from your lips.

“Ready?” his voice goes soft for a second, wanting to make sure you’re still good.

“Please,” you whine in response, shaking your head yes.

As he slowly sinks himself into you, he realizes that he’s found his new favorite place. Buried deep inside of your heat, the warm squeeze against his rigid cock, is what he was put on this earth to enjoy, he thinks to himself.

Your whimpers are the perfect soundtrack as he slides himself in and out of your slick, worried he’ll slip right out if he pulls out too much. The ease with which he glides through convinces him you were made for him. Every inch of you, made to be ruined by him.

“Tell me how to move,” you moan out. “Tell me how to make this – shit! – better for you. Teach me.”

Just like before, hearing you whine and beg for him to teach you, wanting to learn from him, has him losing all of his resolve. He completely slips himself out of you, slamming back into you with such force it takes your breathe away.

Hearing your gasp, Quinn brings his hand down, pressing on your lower belly to intensify the feeling of how deep he is inside of you right now.

“You’re perfect. Doing so good f’me. Best little student ever, know exactly what to do without even being told,” Quinn praises you, causing your brain to short circuit.

“Just wanna make you feel good, Q. Don’t wanna take all the fun for myself,” you respond to him, bringing your arms back up to the skin of his broad shoulders, raking your nails down the clammy skin, not realizing the burn of your nails down his back is the final string for Quinn.

He cries out, not wanting to come before you, but he’s so close he doesn’t think he can hold out any longer.

Mustering all the resolve he has left, he removes his hand from your belly, bringing it down to circle your clit, pinching it every so lightly.

He feels it the second you reach your second release tonight, the squeeze of your walls as they clench around him making it impossible for him to pull out, triggering his own orgasm to leave his body and leak into you in spurts.

His body shakes from the sensation, letting out some of the most pornographic noises even he’s ever heard. And he was once a teenage boy with unlimited access to the internet.

The two of you come down from your highs together, Quinn’s hand letting your leg fall back down onto the bed, and slowly removing his softening cock from you, both of you whining at the loss of contact.

He flops down next to you, needing a moment to recover before he made any move to clean either of you up.

“So…that’s what I’ve missed out on for all these years?” you asked out loud through shallow breaths, not even turning your head to look at Quinn.

Quinn managed a small laugh, replying with a small “Told you it was them, not you.”

You turned on your side to finally look at your sexed out boyfriend, admiring the way his hair was damp with sweat and his lip was swollen and red from biting it out of pleasure.

“Well…I don’t think I quite grasped the concept. I think we need to do it again,” you proposed. “You know, for study purposes,” you shrugged.

And Quinn knew you were (mostly) joking, but he’ll be damned if his dick wasn’t already half hard again, not knowing what he was going to do with you now. A monster of his own creation.

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theemporium · 3 months ago

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[4.6k] as the season dwindles on and the new year approaches, luke comes to a handful of realisations. some of them were unsurprising. some of them were not. one of them leads to a very interesting interaction during his captain's new years party. (smut)

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Whoever said it was better to be self aware was a fucking liar.

It had been a few weeks since the Hughesbowl and Luke had come to a few realisations in that time. Some epiphanies that had been tormenting him over sleepless nights as the season dragged on into December and quickly approached the end of the year.

One: No matter how many times he had said it before, Luke still couldn’t quite grasp just how different NHL hockey was to the hockey he had been playing his whole life. And it sounded stupid to say, considering he had grown up being around NHL players and had two brothers in the league before him too. But it was tiring and rewarding and, fuck, he didn’t think he had ever been so hungry in his damn life before he joined the NHL.

Two: Adulting in college versus adulting in real life was weird, different and not as fun as he liked to think it was when he was growing up. He felt like he spent most of his free time fighting the washing machine, wondering if groceries had always been this expensive and bribing Jack to do things for him when it got too overwhelming or confusing. Which, also wasn’t great considering his brother was just as helpless as he was, and Quinn was too far away to bother.

Three: Despite the concerns tucked away in the back of his mind when he signed his first contract with the Devils, none of the team had made him feel like he was just Jack’s younger brother. He knew Nico had said as much at the start of the season, but experiencing it and really feeling like a part of the team brought a fuzzy warmth in his chest that he wasn’t quite ready to confess to anyone—but it was a nice feeling that followed him through the season, even after the losses.

Four: Figuring out you were kind of in love with your friend who also offered to take your virginity was not exactly the best crisis to be having in the middle of your rookie NHL season. But he was having said crisis regardless and there wasn’t much he could do about it.

And five: the Devils took New Years very seriously.

As in serious enough that Jack was looking at him like he was the crazy one at this current moment.

“Did you hear what I just said?”

Luke blinked, his spoon hovering awkwardly over his bowl of cereal as he stared at his brother across the table. “Yeah no, I heard you. I am just trying to wrap my head around why you decided to tell me at—” His eyes glanced over at the clock on the wall before returning to Jack. “Seven in the morning that I am banned from leaving the state for New Years?”

“Because you’ll make Nico sad,” Jack said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Luke put his spoon down. “Nah, you’ve still lost me.”

Jack let out a deep sigh. “You can’t upset him like that, Luke. He’s our captain.”

“And me leaving the state in the three days off we have between games around then will upset him?” Luke deadpanned. He wasn’t even planning on leaving. He doesn't even know where he would go. But his sleepy brain almost wanted to pretend he had plans just to spite Jack right now.

“Duh,” Jack huffed. “He throws a New Years thing every year. Jonas missed it once when he had some family in town and Nico was pouty as fuck after, even if he didn’t admit it. It’s, like, a team bonding thing for him. Hockey families and real families coming together.”

Luke blinked. “It’s way too early for me to understand half the words that just left your mouth.”

“Plus we have a game on his birthday,” Jack added with a shrug. “It will probably be a double celebration.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke grumbled as he shoved another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “I’ll be there. You know I’d be there. I don’t get why you’re asking.”

Jack didn’t say anything for a moment before he spoke again, trying (and failing) to sound casual. “He doesn’t mind if you bring some guests. The more the merrier.”

Luke bit back his yawn. “Who would I even bring?”

Jack shot him a deadpan look. “You’re so dumb.”

“Whatever,” Luke murmured, almost tempted to lay his head down on the counter and fall asleep right there. “M’not gonna miss Nico’s New Years party, don’t gotta get defensive about your boyfriend.”

Jack let out a noise that sounded vaguely close to a squeak. “He is not my boyfriend—”

Luke zoned out after that.

…

It wasn’t until a few days later, when Luke was sprawled on the floor in some feeble attempt of stretching his muscles after a late morning gym session, that Jack’s words made sense.

He stared up at the gym room ceiling, listening to the various noises around the room: machines humming, metal clinking, guys talking. It was oddly soothing, almost mindful. These were noises Luke was familiar with, that he sought out to cling onto when the noises in his head were a little more irritating. It reminded him that he was actually there in the moment.

“Are you stuck down there?”

Luke blinked as a shadow suddenly casted over him, taking a few seconds before he saw Nico staring down at him with an inquisitive look, though he seemed more amused than concerned.

“Cardio days suck,” was all he was able to supply, his hands resting on his stomach as he made no move to sit back up or head towards the locker room to shower and change.

Nico just snorted, shaking his head in a way that almost seemed fond. “Welcome to the big league.”

“Every league has cardio,” Luke replied, a little snottily if he was honest with himself. “And it sucks no matter what age you are.”

Nico’s grin just widened in response.

For a moment, Luke was happy to just lay there for a few more minutes and let Nico wander off to go check on some of the other guys dotted around the gym. He knew his captain, knew he was doing his rounds and knew that he would have done them anyways, regardless of the ‘C’ on his chest because that was just the type of person Nico was. Luke was happy to let him shift that attention onto someone else.

But then Nico turned to head towards Haula and Bastian on the treadmills and a thought suddenly entered his head and Luke was opening his mouth before he even realised it.

“Hey, are you still doing your New Years thing?”

Nico paused, his face brightening up. “Yeah, I am.” He paused, his smile faltering a little. “Why, can you not make it? I swear Jack said you could—”

“No, yeah, I am,” Luke answered quickly, scrambling to sit up a little so he would feel less exposed. He ran his fingers through his curls, wincing a little when his pinky nabbed a tangle before making his eyes meet Nico’s curious gaze. “I was just wondering if it would be okay if I brought someone.”

Nico’s shoulders dropped in relief but his head tilted in interest. “Brought someone?”

“A friend,” Luke supplied.

“A friend,” Nico repeated, looking as though he was biting back his grin. “Yeah no, bring her with you. The more the merrier.”

Luke raised his brows. “How did you know it was a her?”

Nico smiled knowingly. “Call it a captain’s hunch.”

Luke frowned. “That’s not a thing.”

Nico just shrugged in response.

He tried not to let the question linger too much, instead finally forcing himself to finish his stretches before heading towards the locker room. The noise of his teammates blurred in the background as he reached for his phone, typing out a message before heading towards the showers.

hockey boy: u got any plans for nye?

…

“You suck.”

“I literally don’t know how else you expected me to answer the question.”

“I asked you what the dress code was and you said ‘nice’,” you scoffed, shooting the boy a look as you settled into the passenger seat of his car. “Nice isn’t a dress code. Nice doesn’t tell me if I should be wearing jeans or a dress.”

Luke tried—and failed-–to bite back his grin as he glanced over at you. “I see you went with the dress.”

“No thanks to you,” you retorted with a small huff, but your lips were already twitching upwards. “I would rather your teammates think I am weirdly overdressed than weirdly underdressed.”

“They won’t think you are weird,” he assured you, deciding not to point out the fact you had been around them on previous occasions and had never ran into that issue before. He didn’t think you would want him playing know-it-all. “But maybe stay away from Curtis.”

He could hear the glee in your voice, even if he didn’t turn his head around. “Scared he will give me some ammo against you?”

“Yes.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “My new favourite Devil.”

Luke rolled his eyes, also deciding not to mention the small burn of jealousy that bubbled in his stomach at your obvious joke.

“Don’t worry,” you said after a few moments of silence, playfully knocking your hand against his thigh. “I wouldn’t embarrass you in front of your people.”

Luke snorted. “My people?”

“Yeah, you athletes are all super weird about your teammates. You guys kinda seem more like a cult than a family but it’s cute,” you teased. “Does this mean I get to join the cult for the night? Special access?”

“We aren’t a cult,” Luke scoffed, choosing to also not mention the handful of weird superstitions half of his teammates complete before every game.

“But they are important to you,” you retorted.

Luke nodded, smiling a little softer. “Yeah. They are.”

“Then I’ll keep the fact you thought the Titanic was a documentary a secret,” you concluded, snickering when the boy let out an exaggerated groan.

“It’s based on a real ship, okay!”

“Yeah but Leonardo DiCaprio wasn’t on the ship back in 1912 when it went down.”

“Whatever, there was room on that door and everyone knows it,” Luke grumbled, sniffling slightly before he turned to glance at you once again as the car came to a stop at a red light. “You’re important to me too, you know.”

You turned your head to look at him, wiggling your eyebrows. “Working towards a midnight blowjob instead of a midnight kiss?”

“I—no,” his cheeks burned hot and he was suddenly glad the car was too dark for you to see the full extent of how red his face must have been as memories of you on your knees—of his number on your cheeks—flashed to the front of his mind. “I mean it. You’re important to me.”

You blinked, your smile faltering a little when you realised he was serious. “Oh.”

“Like,” Luke quickly cleared his throat. “We’re friends, right? My friends are important to me.”

“Yeah no, of course,” you laughed, and maybe it was still a little awkward and stilted but he was glad you weren’t jumping out of the car and running off. “I didn’t realise I reached cult level though.”

Luke smiled. “Maybe just for tonight.”

“Knew it!”

He turned his eyes back to the road for the rest of the journey to Nico’s place.

…

Luke knew he shouldn’t have been eavesdropping. He knew that. He didn’t even mean to. It just kind of happened somewhere between him disappearing into Nico’s kitchen to look amongst the weird European beers and ciders until he could find two flutes of champagne for you both and walking back with said flutes in hand to overhear you talking to Jack.

Jack, who he remembered being on the other side of the room almost on Nico’s lap, before he left to grab your drinks.

“You watch our games?”

Luke paused, a voice in his head telling him to take that step forward, to walk back into the room, to intervene before Jack inevitably embarrassed him. The other—and louder—voice kept him put, holding onto the champagne flutes tightly as he listened.

“Yeah, the ones I can.”

“Really?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Guess I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“I mean, I don’t understand a single thing that is happening.”

“Luke hasn’t explained the game to you?”

“Oh no, he has. I still don’t get it. But hey, the commentators tell me you guys are pretty good.”

Luke listened to the way Jack laughed, noted how it sounded more like his actual laugh rather than the stilted media one.

“I’m surprised Luke had the balls to invite you.”

Luke’s eyes widened, his cheeks growing hot again as he silently vowed to trip Jack up during their next practice for that line.

“Am I that scary?”

Jack didn’t respond for a moment. “I don’t think it’s you he’s scared of.”

“What? He thought you guys would scare me away?”

“We can be overwhelming.”

“You guys fight other grown men on ice for a living, I think I can survive.”

Jack laughed again. “Mom would love you, you really know how to keep a guy humble.”

“You mean keep his ego in check.”

“Professional athletes with egos? Unheard of.”

This time it was you who snorted out a laugh.

“You’re not what I expected, Cherry.”

“Is that a good or bad thing?”

But before Jack could say anything, before he could possibly embarrass Luke any further and continue whatever weird interrogation he had going on with you, Luke quickly rounded the corner and practically shoved a champagne flute into your hand whilst shooting his brother a look.

“Shouldn’t you be bothering Nico or something?”

Jack shot his brother a knowing look, glancing between the two of you before he took a step back. “Yeah, I guess I have a few things to tell him.”

Luke narrowed his eyes.

“It was nice to meet you, Cherry,” Jack said earnestly, tipping his beer bottle towards you. “Maybe I’ll catch you at the house. It would be nice to see Luke around instead of running off to yours.”

You snorted. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Luke watched the new but playful camaraderie between you and his brother. The banter and the shared laughs at his expense. He watched it as he chugged a mouthful of champagne, hoping the bubbles would drown the other fluttering feelings he was feeling in his stomach.

…

“I’ve been looking for you.”

You snapped your head around, your smile widening a little when you found Luke standing by the door of the guest room. His sleeves were now rolled up, a few more buttons of his shirt unbuttoned and his curls looked as though they had been ruffled by a drunk and very handsy Haula more than once.

“The main bathroom was occupied so Nico said I could come in and use the guest room bathroom,” you explained, nodding your head towards the other door.

“And you decided to hide in here afterwards?” Luke asked, mostly playful and teasing but there was a hint of concern in his voice. The team could be a lot sometimes and, despite the fact you seemed more than capable of holding your own, the last thing he wanted was for you to feel uncomfortable and as though you couldn’t leave.

“I got intrigued,” you shrugged as you gestured towards the bookshelf that seemed to take over a large portion of the guest room wall. “How many languages does this guy know?”

Luke snorted as he walked deeper into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed with a small huff. “I think three?” He shrugged, leaning back against his hands.

“That must be so cool,” you murmured, your eyes flickering over the book spines before turning back to look at Luke. “Do you know any other languages?”

Luke shook his head.

“None?” You laughed in disbelief. “Buddy, most of your teammates down there speak English as a second language and you haven’t picked up anything?”

“Do three words in standard German count?” Luke retorted, playful and sheepish all at once. “Jack tried learning on Duolingo for, like, two weeks to try to impress Nico during summer before realising Swiss German and standard German are different.”

You shook your head, trying to bite back your smile as you wandered closer. “F for effort on your part. I’m pretty sure Jonas taught me more in one conversation than you’ve learnt all season.”

Luke rolled his eyes, his fingers twitching against the comforter with the urge to reach out for you. “It can be my New Years resolution.”

“Yeah? You have a list?” You questioned, watching as he spread his legs without thinking and let you into the space like it was instinctual.

He shrugged. “I try. Achievable stuff, you know?”

You raised your brows. “Like?”

“Eat better, workout more, start a new hobby,” he listed off, trying and failing to keep a straight face as he finally gave in, as he finally reached for your waist to tug you even closer to him. “Learn a new skill. Or improve on ones I already know.”

You hummed, your hands resting on his shoulders as your fingers skimmed the fabric of his shirt. “Hockey skills?”

Luke glanced up at you, swallowing a little. “Not all of them.”

Your lips twitched upwards.

His thumb smoothed over your hips, feeling the small details of your dress under his touch. “What’s on your list?”

“I don’t have one,” you admitted with a shrug. “No point to it. If I want to do something, I’ll do it.”

“Sounds like one of the media trained answers we are forced to give,” Luke teased, pressing his thumb a little harsher to gain your attention when your head tipped back with a laugh. “No, but really. There’s nothing new you wanna try?”

“Are you offering?” You retorted, lighthearted and teasing.

“Yeah,” he rasped. “Maybe I am.”

Your head tilted slightly, your hand moving to lightly grasp the back of his neck. “We probably shouldn’t. I hate to break it to you, Hughes, but you’re not very quiet once you get going.”

His cheeks burned but he didn’t tear his eyes away from you. “Who said I was the one getting off?”

And that seemed to catch you by surprise.

“Pretty boy is feeling confident, huh?” You mused, your fingers brushing against the curls at the nape of his neck. “As hot as it is, I don’t think we have time.”

And your words sent a spark through, soft and buzzing and persistent. A spark that he knew very well, a spark that made his grip on your waist tighten. A spark that he felt every single time he stepped onto the ice.

“Is that a challenge?” Luke asked, his voice a little lower than he intended.

You smirked, shaking your head. “Depends what you have in mind.”

His heart was pounding in his chest, loud and strong and overwhelming, but it didn’t stop him as he leaned his chin against your stomach. “I want to make you come.”

Your eyes wandered over his face, at the pure determination in his eyes. “Oh?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, his hands trailing down the side of your thighs. “That’s on my list too.”

Your lips twitched. “Thinking of becoming a ladies man? Live up to the hockey sex god stereotype?”

He shook his head. “No. Not other girls. Just wanna make you come.”

You didn’t have a reply for that.

“I wanna make you come right now. In here.” There was a flicker of something else in his eyes that you couldn’t quite read.

Your brows lifted slightly.

“If you want to,” he added, his hands squeezing the back of your thighs. “Consent is sexy, you know.”

“Show me what you’ve got, pretty boy,” you murmured, leaning down to close the distance between you as you pressed your lips against his.

The rest of the world was a distant buzz in the back of his mind once you finally kissed him, his shoulders dropping with some unexplainable relief that only being around you seems to bring. Your fingers were already in his curls by the time his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, leaving the boy groaning and gasping into your mouth as you tugged him closer.

You pulled back for a second, to catch your breath and appreciate the flush on his cheeks before leaning back in. But it was enough. It was enough to have his mind spiralling faster than he could even keep up with.

For a split second, you weren’t smiling down at him. For a split second, the two of you were back in his car and you were staring at him with an expression he didn’t understand, an expression that made his stomach turn nonetheless. For a split second, he was just staring helplessly at you as you doubted the words he said.

And whilst Luke never claimed to be the sharpest tool in the shed, he knew it would be a monumentally stupid idea to repeat the words. He knew that if he repeated the words he said in the car, if he tried to insist on their truth, you would shut down again.

And he didn’t want that.

Not at all.

But the overwhelming and insistent need to show you what you meant to him was bubbling inside him, swirling along with the bottled up feelings and glasses of champagne he had drank over the course of the night.

And if he couldn’t tell you, he would show you. He would make you see that you were important to him, that this unlikely and unconventional friendship may have started with you helping him but he was in this for you too.

That your pleasure was important to him too.

He swallowed your gasp with another kiss as he tugged you closer, as he finally broke whatever restraint the two of you had until you were finally on his lap. Or, almost on his lap. But when you tried to shift in his hold, when you tried to straddle his lap properly, Luke’s strong grip on your waist kept you locked in place.

“Stay,” he murmured, swallowing harshly as he leaned back enough to watch the confusion wash over your face.

“I thought—” You started but he was already shaking his head.

“Like this. I want to get you off like this,” he confessed, his voice rasping as he tried to pretend like his whole body wasn’t thrumming with excitement and nerves and something else he wasn’t quite ready to name. “On my thigh.”

You tucked your lip between your teeth. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Fuck, Luke,” you murmured under your breath before pulling his lips back onto yours through the hold you still had on his curls.

He sunk into the kiss as easily as he breathed, moaning softly when he felt your tongue against his own. His hands clung onto you, squeezing your waist like he needed to make sure you were actually there, like this was real and not some sex-crazed dream he would wake up from, half-hard and alone in his room.

But the silk of your dress remained under his touch, soft and smooth and bunching in his fists as he clenched the fabric in his hold. And then his hands started wandering as you continued to kiss him senseless.

He pushed the skirt of your dress up until it pooled at your waist, until his hands were engulfing and squeezing your thighs. His fingers continued to skin upwards, until his fingertips were brushing against the waistband of your panties, until he could hear the small gasp you let out as he lightly traced them.

It made his head spin the way you were straddling his thigh, the way he could feel the warmth of your cunt pressed against his leg, feel it through the fabric of the dress pants he wore for the party. It made his head spin how he wished he could pull them off, how he wished he could just feel you with no boundaries between.

His hands were pawing at you before they started to guide you, rocking you back and forth on his thigh. It was slow and deliberate, almost unnoticeable until the first choked out noise you let out between the soft kisses he was giving you.

“C’mon,” his voice was low, rough, full of desire. “Want you to take what you want.”

One hand remained entangled in his curls but the other shifted down to grip his shoulder, to dig your nails into the fabric of his shirt as you continued to follow the pace he set. It shouldn’t have felt so good, but it did. It felt so fucking good with his sweet words smothering the slow pace he refused to relent.

“Shit, Luke, I—” You cut yourself off, biting down on your lower lip as he continued to guide your hips, as he continued to let you grind yourself against his flexing thigh.

“Whatever you want,” he murmured out, feeling like he was in a daze as he watched your eyes flutter shut. You were breathtaking when you let the pleasure take over, when he got to see you with no walls up and unguarded. “Just tell me.”

“More,” you managed to mutter out, your head falling back as you continued to ride his thigh, to feel the rush of what you were doing just down the hall from his teammates wash over you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Look so pretty like this,” he whispered because he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t hold the thought back even if he wanted to. “Wanna make you come more, Cherry baby, shit.”

Because he did. He wanted to do this a million more times if he could watch you like this for the rest of his life. He wanted to see you riding his thigh, unashamed and unabashed, so lost in your own pleasure—pleasure that you were receiving from him—that you had no other worries in the world.

He wanted to watch you lean your head forward against his shoulder, his name leaving your lips between soft moans and a list of curse words as your orgasm washed over you. He wanted to watch the way your body shook with the after effects, the way you clung onto him like a lineline.

He wanted to watch the way you lifted your head, giving him a smile so soft that he felt like the rug was pulled out from underneath him.

“I have been severely underrating hockey thighs all these years,” you muttered, your smile widening a little more when Luke let out a disbelieving laugh.

Luke couldn’t tear his eyes away from you if he tried. “What? No thank you?”

“That’s your thing, pretty boy, not mine,” you teased before you relented, leaning forward to press a soft but lingering kiss on his cheek. It was somehow the most intimate act you shared in the last fifteen minutes. “Ten out of ten for your thighs.”

Luke swallowed harshly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good, because that won’t be the last time we are using them,” you said to him, so sure of yourself and unaware of the muddle of thoughts in his head at that moment.

“Happy New Years, Cherry,” he managed to mutter out, not even sure if the clock had passed twelve or not. But it was the last of his concerns when you smiled at him.

“Happy New Years, Luke,” you murmured softly.

And yet, all he could think about was how he wanted to hear those words leave your mouth every year.

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bewaryofpity · 2 months ago

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HONKY TONK FLAME - L. HUGHES

[2.6k] when you hit the bar with your friends to let loose, you certainly don’t expect to catch the eye of a cute cowboy.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, public sex (kinda?), unprotected p in v (wrap it y'all), oral fem receiving, cum play (blink and you'll miss it), slightly unedited

a/n: i’ve seen a lot of cowboy!luke lately so here are my two cents ! also this is my first time writing something and posting it so be nice pls. if i missed any tags pls pls let me know. enjoy 🤍 !

“I didn’t order this.”

“It’s from the gentleman over there.”

As you turned around, you spotted a guy near the pool table looking in your direction and tilting his cowboy hat at you. Raising your glass in thanks, your friends snickered at you, after all you were all here for a specific reason: find you a hookup.

“Just go there and talk to him.”

“What? No!”

It wasn’t like you were completely inexperienced. You’d had your fair share of moments, but you were shy, and your friends teased you for it, but never pushed too hard. You just didn’t have enough alcohol in you to go up and talk to strangers, not yet anyways.

Some country song was playing on the bar’s speakers, almost clouding your thoughts as you looked back at the guy now hunched over the pool table to get his shot in. That’s a nice ass.

Downing your drink in record time —and failing miserably, leaving just two fingers of liquid in the glass— to hopefully muster the little courage you have in your body, you sat up and started walking in his direction, just to turn back around midway.

“I can’t do it, it’s fucking embarrassing.”

“Just go, Y/N! How many men do you know that buy drinks for ladies nowadays?”

That was true. You were quite dumbfounded when the bartender approached your table, let alone when you found out it was from a young guy, and a good looking one at that. What’s the worst that can happen, anyway.

You turned back around and continued your mission towards the pool table, now feeling the alcohol slowly rushing to your head. As you got closer he started to feel your presence next to him, standing back up after potting the 8 ball.

“You alright there, Sweets?”

His hat cast a shadow over his face, leaving out the smirk painting his lips, toothpick dangling between them. You kept staring at them, tongue playing around with the small wooden stick and rolling it side to side.

“Uh, yeah, just… thank you for the drink.”

“Pleasure’s mine.” Smirk turned into a full smile after your awkward approach and now you seriously couldn’t stop staring at the way he was rolling that toothpick between his teeth, darting that tongue around.

“Well, Sweets, wanna join me in a game of pool?”

“I don’t know how to play.”

“I’ll teach you.”

You didn’t have time to answer that he already took your drink from your hand, placed it over some table behind him, and put one of his hands on your back to nudge you towards the pool table. You were paying little to no mind to whatever rules he started to explain to you, instead focusing on how his hand covered almost your entire lower back.

You were sure your cheeks were totally pink and burning because the same hand traveled up your back, leaning you forward, almost all the way bent over the table. Your brain short circuited when you felt his body press into you, cold belt buckle pressed onto your back. His hat came to your view as he leaned over, completely engulfing your body.

“You following me, pretty girl?”

“No”

He let out a breathy chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. Your face was mere inches away from his, and you wished you had the power to tilt your head up to enjoy that smile of his, but your only focus now were his hands on the table caging you in.

“Sweet girl, I need you to pay attention to me.” He murmured in your ear before he straightened himself, bringing you back up with his hand splayed over your stomach. You weren’t one for pet names, but if he called you any variation of sweet again you were going to lose it. And that hand on your stomach wasn’t helping you at all.

“You haven't told me your name.” You said, turning around to face him, resting your weight on the ledge of the table.

“You didn’t ask, Sweets. It’s Luke.”

“Well, Luke,” you started as you took his hat off his head to put on yours, “I’m sure you’re a great teacher, but I don’t think I wanna play pool tonight.” Not much alcohol was left in your body to justify your boldness, but the reminder of his hands on you made you dizzy, your mind completely forgoing reason.

“Is that right?”

You nodded. Now that his hat’s shadow wasn’t hiding his face, you could make out his features a lot more. Curly hair a bit unruly, eyes so green and clear you could get lost in so easily.

“I didn’t think my Sweets was a naughty girl.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t know? Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.”

Oh. Sure, you were thinking of getting to know each other more before getting to the point, but this could work too. It was the whole reason for you being here tonight, right?

Luke caged you again with his arms, his head tilted down to look at you. He removed his toothpick, throwing it somewhere on the ground, before leaning over, lips brushing your ear.

“So, are you down for some fun tonight?”

You sobered up completely, now face to face. He was enjoying how he rendered you speechless, the corners of his lips tugged upwards as your eyes stared at them. He raised his brows in question when you kept staring instead of answering him. Not trusting your voice, you nodded.

With his arm wrapped around your waist, he led you to the door. You started to feel like a teenage girl again, you were desperate to feel him closer, to feel his body weight press you down like earlier. You were not ashamed of the ungodly thoughts that were running through your mind. The tight shirt he was wearing was leaving little to nothing to the imagination, hugging him tightly, you needed to feel those muscles.

The chill air from outside hit your still burning cheeks. The back of the bar was illuminated by a single light on the wall you could barely make out Luke’s truck. If it wasn’t for his arm wrapped around you, you wouldn’t know where to go.

You opened the passenger seat’s door just slightly when Luke slammed it shut and turned you around and simultaneously nudged your back against the door. His lips fell to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses on his way to your jaw. You let out a soft moan when he reached that spot under your ear, feeling his smile on your skin.

Your hand grabbed at his curls, grunt silenced by your impatient lips on his. Luke trailed his hands down your spine until he reached down to your ass, squeezing the flesh and rutting his body into you. The growing bulge between his legs grazed against your thighs, his jeans rough against your skin.

“Get in the backseat.”

“Huh?”

“The backseat.”

And honestly, you don’t think you could’ve waited any longer. Luke pressed one last fiery kiss to your lips before letting you go. You crawled in the backseat and turned around to find Luke already on top of you. Locking eyes with you, he placed one hand on your thigh, the other found support on the window, before he leaned down to kiss you again.

You delved deeper and deeper into the kiss, tongues sloppy. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his middle, heels of your feet digging into his lower back, while your hands played with the hem of his shirt. Luke bit your lower lip and you whined when he pulled away.

“Patience, my girl. I wanna know if you taste just as sweet here.”

His rough hands roamed and touched every inch of your skin, tantalizingly rubbing his thumbs against the inner side closest to your core. He pushed your dress up, coming into view with your lace panties. Crouching between your legs and pressing a kiss to your clothed core, you let out a soft moan, desperate for him to touch you where you needed most.

Luke brushed the tip of his nose against your clit through the lace and moved away to graze his teeth across the inside of your sensitive thighs, lips nipping at your skin, and you were certain he was marking you up nicely.

“Please, Luke, I need you.”

“No need to beg, ma’am.”

He chuckled softly, warm breath fanning out across your core, making you squirm. His fingers nudged the lace to the side and swiped two between your folds, teasing at your entrance.

“So wet f’me.” Luke murmured, kissing your hip. You took a deep breath, your back arching as he slid two digits into you, working them in and out of you gently. You jolted as he pressed his mouth between your legs, clasping his lips around your clit and pressing his tongue flat against you. You whined, your fingers slid up into his curls trying to keep his head close. Rolling your hips down against his tongue, his left hand held your hips down as his fingers drove deeper into you, curling up against your g-spot, making you moan loudly.

Luke looked up at you from between your legs, groaning at your sight. Your eyes were closed, head thrown back in pleasure, one of your hands massaging your breast. And it took everything in him to focus on something else so he didn't cum in his pants right then and there.

“Let me hear how pretty you sound when you come.” He gave your thigh a kiss before putting his mouth to work again, and you squirmed at the sensation. You were in heaven. Luke kept thrusting his fingers deep, curling them and working his tongue against your clit. His left hand kept pushing on your lower stomach to keep you still.

“Fuck, I’m so close.” You admitted, lips parted as you looked down at Luke, your fingers knotting in his soft brown hair. You were hit by your orgasm, desperate moans spilled from your lips and he still didn’t stop, tongue flicking at your clit in fast motions. Both his hands now focused on keeping your thighs spread for him, definitely leaving finger marks on your skin. You cursed, pushing yourself up on your elbows, trembling when he finally gave you mercy.

You called out to him with a shaky voice as he stood up between your legs and pressed his lips to yours instantly. Your fingers trailed along the lines on his stomach through the shirt, reaching for the hem and pulling it up over his head, discarding it haphazardly. You kept kissing him while you popped open the button of his jeans. He was silent, lips toying at a smile as you dragged the zipper down.

He sat back up, motioning for you to come and sit in his lap. His cock had been straining at that denim for too long, if he’d let you touch him now he could cum in his boxers, and Luke had other plans. Holding onto his shoulder with one hand and onto the roof of the truck with the other, you felt his cold belt buckle press onto your bare thigh.

Luke smashed his lips onto yours again and your fingers slid up into his curly hair, tugging lightly at his roots, the other hand busy stroking him through his boxers. He whined as you pulled away, more interested in sucking and nipping, lips pressing to a straining vein in his neck.

His hands pawed at your breasts over the top of your dress before pulling it down for easier access. You mewled, shivering as his thumb swiped over your nipple. He grazed his teeth along your nipple, wrapping his lips around the pert skin, flicking his tongue over it.

“Please.”

“Tell me what you need baby”

“I need you inside me please.” You begged as he kept leaving open-mouthed kisses on your breasts.

“Mh, so polite.” He hummed, leaving wet kisses on his path to your lips and he rolled his hips slightly, grinding himself against you. He curled one hand into your hair and tugged softly, making you moan.

You pull at his jeans and boxers, enough to free his aching cock, and you wrap one of your hands around its base. Luke groaned softly, lips on your throat as you rocked yourself against the head of his cock before lining him with your entrance, bottoming out completely with a gasp leaving your lips. He tugged at your hair once more, turning your head and kissing your mouth. You mewled quietly against his mouth as he lifted his hips just slightly, pressing himself deeper into you, your fingers digging into his shoulders for leverage.

Luke’s hands moved down to cup your ass and squeeze your cheeks hard between his fingers, pulling you more into him. He growled shifting his hips to change the angle deeper as he threw his head back in pleasure. Lowering your head and kissing his neck with fervor, sucking small bruises, you lifted your hips and lowered yourself onto him at a slow pace. Despite being impatient, Luke let you set the pace, rocking his hips up against you. Your desperate moans filled the truck, mixed with his soft grunts.

He sat up slightly, lips parted as he watched you lost in pleasure riding his dick. His brows knitted together as he looked down between your bodies and groaned softly. He smacked your ass harshly, leaning forwards and attaching his mouth to your skin, desperate to get a taste of you. His left hand reached blindly for his discarded hat from earlier and you giggled as he put it on your head again.

“Shit,” Luke took his lip between his teeth, as you squeezed him, “you feel so fucking good.”

He bit at the skin of your shoulder, grinding himself up to meet you each time you came down on him, and you cried out at the feeling.

“More.” You whimpered. You were so close as Luke kept hitting all the right spots, his hands grabbing at your hips and squeezing firmly at your plea. He interrupted your rhythm, making you whine even more, and digging your fingers into his bicep as he changed the pace by buckling his hips upwards. He was all that you could focus on, guiding you as you bounced on his cock, his eyes on your face as you rode him.

“Shit, that’s it,” Luke nodded his head, watching as your lips parted and your head dropped back, “good girl, just like that.”

He pressed his mouth to your throat as his other hand fell to your clit as he kept pounding into you. His soft groans pushed you to the edge as he fucked you through your orgasm before he pulled you off, stroking himself to chase his own. Ropes of cum coated his stomach as he came undone with a grunt. He looked so hot like this, heavy breathing, curls stuck on his forehead.

And Luke felt like he could go for more already as you brought two fingers to his lower stomach, picking up his cum to get a taste.

“If I knew you tasted just this good, I would’ve begged to suck you off.” You moaned.

He chuckled at you, thumb stroked at your throat as he sat forwards, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You keened against his lips, breathing hard as he moved back to observe you again, lust never leaving his eyes.

“Next time, Sweets.”

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes smut #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x you #luke hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl smut #luke hughes #bewaryofpity writes

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sweetestcaptainhughes · 5 months ago

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Please # 51 “I’m your husband. It’s my job.” ☁️For Quinn Thank you !

ooo this is very Quinn Hughes - eldest daughter, protector of everyone coded for sure!

Drabble Masterlist.

"I'm your husband. It's my job."

You were sick, sicker than you have ever been. It was some type of stomach bug that was going around and for some reason your body just couldn't shake it. This was one of the first times in your entire life that you truly had relay on someone fully to help take care of you.

Quinn was amazing throughout the entire experinece. He brought you soap and made sure you ate things that you could actually keep down. Since you felt so sick he kept a bucket next to your side of the bed for you to throw up in if needed, he never complained when he had to clean it out even though if roles were reversed you defintely would. Your body was so fatigued that you even had to get Quinn to help you to the bathroom. He helped you shower, he made sure even though you felt like crap you still showered everyday because he knows that's important.

He made sure you took all your medicine on time and listened to all the doctors instructions. Even though you told him not too because he would get sick, he never left your side almost always cuddling you as you watched whatever you wanted on T.V. You were so out of it you didn't even realize at one point you were watching a Canucks game and Quinn was cuddling up next to you instead of on the ice in Seattle. But once your mind realized you gasped in shock.

Quinn tore his eyes from the t.v. quickly, "what's wrong?" he asked frantically ready to jump up to help in anyway he could.

"Quinny! That's your team!" you tried to raise your voice but it came out more dry and raspy then you would of liked. A smile slowly creeped on his face.

"Yeah that's why I'm watching it gotta make sure Brock and Petty are doing a good job for me." he chuckles still looking down at you.

"No. Your suppose to be there not here. It's your job to be there! People are counting on you. If you leave now you'll make the Kings game for tomorrow." you argue, you try to push him so he leaves the bed but even if you weren't weak from being sick you wouldn't be able to move Quinn unless he wanted you to.

"Yes it's my job. But I'm your husband. It's my job to take care of you. Remember, sickness and health, they'll be okay for a few games without me." grabbing your and pulling you so you were pracatically laying on top of me. "Both are my job, but your my most important job. Okay?" he asks making sure your paying attention even in your delirious state due to the stomach flu.

"okay." you whisper, turning your head trying to focus on the game on the t.v. but you fall asleep before the current shift was even over.

#quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hughes fanfiction #hughes imagine #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes one shot #schwritingsqh43

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sc0tters · 7 days ago

Text

Captains Orders | Quinn Hughes & Nico Hischier

summary: what happens when quinn learns he isn't the only captain you've been hooking up with?

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, threesome, dismissive kink, dom!quinn, p in v (unprotected!), oral (m receiving!), masturbation, in general filthy smut.

word count: 6.77k

authors note: we have been in the thick of the threesomes recently but you won't hear me complain because this one i am pretty sure i lost my ability to have a filter so some of these points were simply the cause of my brain and of course @sweetestdesire who is back in the seat of helping with these threesomes so as always thank you to brynn for listening to the shit that comes out of my mouth while i plan these �� this was a version of threesomes i have never fully gone at before so lets hope the plot landed.

You really didn’t know how you ended up like this.

Well, that was a lie. You knew exactly how you ended up chasing after the eldest Hughes boy in the lake house as you tried to apologise. Quinn had come down to see you standing in the kitchen as Nico recounted the days when you spent most evenings in his bed. As Jack’s best friend, your sex life shouldn’t have mattered to Quinn, especially the stuff that you did back when you lived with Jack as you got your degree. But Quinn did care; in fact, he cared so much because now that you resided in Vancouver, you were doing the same thing with him. Gone were the moments of feeling special, that you were the one who helped him feel better during the darker days within the season. Craving your company and your bed as your sweet sweet cunt was the best therapy he could have ever gotten.

Because now he wasn’t special, Quinn was actually the second person you had been doing this with and he had seen the way that Nico had been looking at you all week. From the moment that the Swiss man walked into the house, his eyes seemed to settle on you for a little too long. So now knowing that there was something between you both, it all made sense to Quinn. He hadn’t bothered to ask before because he thought that he was just dreaming things up. But that sense of hope seemed to just bite him in the ass.

Quinn heard you walk into the room behind him “I didn’t think that you needed to know about a relationship that means nothing to me now.” You let out a sigh, watching him grab the tv remote before he started to flick through the channels “please Quinny.” You begged, wanting a response as you pulled your hoodie off of your head, leaving you in the little sundress that he loved so much.

But still, he remained focused on the screen that stood behind you “fine.” You grumbled, dropping onto your knees without a second thought. You knew he was mad but there was only so much that he could ignore when it came to you. And you weren’t above crawling to him, so that was what you did.

The dress you wore climbed up your ass revealing the white panties that you wore. Quinn’s eyes did break from the screen to you it but still, he didn’t talk and when you noticed him looking, his eyes went back to the screen. It took everything from him to not grunt. The sight of you on your knees was something he always loved “please Quinny I’m sorry.” You whined, letting your lips form a pout.

His fingers dug into his hand as he stayed quiet wanting you to work for his attention “you want me to suck your cock huh?” Your fingers were delicate against his shorts. The sound of your freshly manicured nails against his waistband.

He licked his lips when you pulled his shorts and boxers down to let his cock spring up against his pubic bone “god Quinn please just talk to me.” You begged, pumping his cock in your hand.

His silence made you feel bad, as if your past relationship was something that could have been held against you. So you licked at his cock as if he was your lollipop, your tongue swirled around the head of his cock. Hoping, almost even praying that you’d draw out a response from him, when you weren’t even sure if you got a cut breath.

Quinn had done this before, ignored you until he thought that you had sucked his cock well enough to be spoken to again. So as you looked back up at him you set yourself the challenge of breaking him sooner than you ever had done before.

You wrapped your lips around his cock, arching your back in a way that allowed you to take his cock much easier than normal. He felt your tongue run along the underside of his cock as your nostrils flared. His head rested against the cushion behind him while he gripped at the remote trying to not show you the effect that you really did have on him too early on.

Your mouth felt like your cunt to him when he was desperate to just feel you so now when you were all methodical it was close to sending him over the edge especially as your eyes remained on him. When your hands reached down to massage his balls, he stopped you, one hand went on top of your as the other pressed on the back of your head forcing you to hit his pubic bone with your nose.

Quinn loved the feeling and the soft effects as you gagged on his cunt and as he watched the replay of the tennis game on the tv in front of him he couldn’t help but begin to fuck your throat. The feeling your mouth gave him was addictive, like he had morphed you into his personal toy.

The walls of your throat tightened around his cock but with how harshly he fucked your throat Quinn barely felt it. Even in his state of getting have your mouth at entirely his own mercy, he still noticed what happened around him. That is why he saw your free hand leave his thigh before travelling between your own legs.

Your panties came down to your knees as your clit ached for attention. But you knew that you couldn’t give into yourself, not until you had earned it. The sounds of your own gags had you focusing on Quinn. You weren’t able to see his face with how he had positioned his hand on your head and you wondered if that was how he liked it.

But Quinn was strong, even if he fucked your throat like it was the last thing on earth. You weren’t going to hear him even squeak, even if that meant he was gnawing his own lip off in the process. His throbbed as precum oozed into your throat, not giving you a chance to savour that taste of it.

Your nails dug into the side of your thigh to keep you from rubbing at your clit, tears formed in your eyes because you wanted nothing more than to just make Quinn cum. At least then you’d get some kind of release, too. Your pleads came out muffled but even Quinn could make out that you were begging him to finally cum, it wasn’t going to be the last time of the night for him anyways.

He tugged at your hair when his thrusts became erratic. His thighs began to shake and he was dangerously close to cumming when he felt your tongue hit his balls. You wished you had a bigger mouth because then you would be able to take more of him. Quinn felt his jaw tense as you hollowed out your cheeks and shifted your legs back to let him thrust more freely. The boy watched in awe as the sounds of your whimpers and gags sent him over the edge.

Quinn loved the feeling of cumming down your throat, but on days like this he preferred to not let his thrusts slow until he has finished painting your mouth and throat with his release. That way some of it ends up on your tongue and eventually your mouth feels so full that he can’t even fuck you with any easy anymore.

He finally halted his movements to catch his breath as he let you have his cock comfortably in your mouth while he slightly turned your head to let breathe more comfortably. His eyes never trailed down to yours however, Quinn was far more entertained by the tennis on the screen, watching the players move with ease.

But when he turned you, your jaw began to grow slack, almost wanting to rest for what you knew would be a long night. The captain could feel that his thighs were damp and he originally thought it was just your saliva pooling onto his shorts, but instead, it was your tears.

At first, he worried that he had pushed you too far when he saw how your mascara was a goopy mess on your cheeks. Quinn was ready to pull you onto his lap and treat you like his princess for the rest of eternity if he had to. But as his cum slipped from your lips, Quinn watched how you caught it with your fingers. Trying to stealthily bring them back down to your cunt.

His hands ran through your hair as he held back a laugh, Quinn should have felt relieved in that moment but deep down he just knew that you were his little slut. He knew you were only teasing your clit as you waited for him to start fucking your throat.

So the captain decided to play nice as his cock felt hard again as he gripped at your hair, reforming your makeshift pony at the back of your head. Quinn wanted to smile feeling your free hand grip at his knee as you moved your head, causing his cock to throb at the feeling of your jaw tightening again.

His pace started off slow as he began to move his hips, still feeling a little bit sensitive from the first orgasm that he had. He watched your hand move making him wish that he could see how your fingers strummed against your clit. Sometimes, if there was a roadie when he desperately needed you, he’d get you on Facetime and make sure that your phone was set up so that he could see how your pretty face would react while you did a mix of rubbing at your clit and listening to his orders of how you needed to finger yourself.

It was what he thought of while he listened to you whimper against his cock, carefully focusing that you continued to pay more attention to him than yourself. He chewed at his cheek, desperate to touch you, but still he had to keep himself restrained.

Quinn listened to how you brought your fingers into your cunt, it was two because he was the only one who went for three. Your jaw tightened around him as your palm brushed against your clit.

You moaned again feeling how each of Quinn’s thrusts forced his cock past your uvula, somehow not causing you to gag. The room felt hot as you both settled into your own movements, each working towards your own orgasms. The captain made sure that he didn’t lift his hand from your head as he wanted to watch you, but you couldn’t know he was watching you. He imagined that it was his own hand getting you off as he let out the first grunt that was loud enough for you not to need to confirm it. You were finally breaking down his facade he out up that night, and you weren’t stopping there. You lapped at his dick, constantly making sure that he knew the sheer amount of work that you were putting in. Begging him without even having to say a word.

Those movements continued on of you fucking your hand and turning his cock into your new favourite lollipop until Quinn felt his chest heave when you cried, whimpering around him as you came down from your own high and trigger his own with his hand now running through your hair.

You were left in a puddle of your own mess, desperate to look at Quinn and how you made him feel “poor schatz.” The words made you freeze, whereas Quinn laughed with his sense of cold that sent a shiver down your spine “probably isn’t even turned on with how neglected she is.” That made Quinn pull your head off of his cock.

Strings of spit connected it to your mouth still “should we check your pretty fucking pussy to show him how you feel when I fuck your face like this?” Quinn smirked, watching you nod. To him, in that moment, you looked gorgeous with your ruined makeup, dishevelled hair, and that mix of saliva and cum on your chin.

The Canucks captain leaned down to run his fingers through your folds as he kissed you. It was the first time that night that he had done so, and you savoured that. Quinn could taste his release on your tongue, and he had to remind himself that you two were not alone when you moaned feeling his fingers against your slit. Nico’s eyes watched how Quinn’s fingers glistened with your release “what were you saying about how she is feeling today?” Quinn asked as he smirked “since I am feeling generous.” He licked his lips, looking back at you.

That blue dress that you wore was something Quinn wanted to rip off of you, but tonight he was going to play nice and show some self-restraint “why don’t you show Nico how well you suck cock now.” Quinn ran his fingers down your jaw before he turned your head to where Nico stood “schatz you don-” Nico went to tell you that you didn’t need to do what Quinn had said, but you were quicker than him.

The smile that formed on your face was the same one that had Quinn thinking that you were a fucking minx, his fucking minx. How was there a reality where you were this innocent girl, but that look on your face always had him thinking otherwise? As you stood up, Quinn helped you out of your panties as they needed a final kick before they were left on his floor. You turned to face Nico again, but you couldn’t even get one step before Quinn had to remind you of his expectations “nuh-uh, baby. I didn't say you could walk, now did I? You know better than that.” There was this sense of disappointment in his voice that made you frown as you dropped back onto your knees “I’m sorry.” Your lips formed a pout looking back at Quinn, almost scared to go to the older captain if the Canucks one was irritated with you.

But instead, he smiled “that’s okay, sweet girl.” He ran his fingers along your cheek making you lean into his touch “just go bring him over here, okay?” You looked eager as your eyes lit up when you acquired the task. Nico stood still, almost intimidated by the hold that Quinn had over you making it seem like you were some kind of prey that the boy had gotten as the American began to pump his cock with his hand watching how pretty your ass looked from this side of the dress. Your orgasm’s aftermath was present, glistening through your folds, making him lick his lips. Nico, on the other hand, watched you with a sense of curiosity; your days with him had him worshipping you, and it was not the other way round. He could see in your eyes that you were eager for him, for this. Your breasts were perfectly framed in the dress that Nico wondered if it was made for you “hi.” You smiled when you stopped at his feet.

Nico was quick to give you his hand to help you back onto your feet “hey.” He ran his fingers through your hair as he looked at you almost trying to see what else had changed when your fingers ran over his cock. His boner was present through his shorts. He may not have agreed with what Quinn was doing to you, but he couldn’t deny that you were hot. The Swiss man felt his head fall forward at your touch “you gonna let me suck your cock?” The words were so vulgar from your mouth making him feel so dirty but somehow Nico felt his brain turn off as his cock took over the thinking.

His hands were bigger than Quinn’s when he cupped your cheeks. You could taste his beer on his tongue, already comparing how it tasted to the one that Quinn preferred which was drier, Nico felt himself get carried away when he brought his one hand down your back; you had deepened the kiss so this felt natural. As his tongue fought with yours he let his hand continue down your back to your ass. He was purposeful with his touch, if he touched you, he wanted to feel all of you and that was how his hand ended up under your dress while he squeezed at your ass.

It made you moan loud enough for Quinn to hear as the Swiss man fondled your skin in his hand “I don’t remember saying you could touch her.” Quinn’s words made Nico pull away from you with a smirk as his lower lip was caught between your teeth “careful, Hughes your jealousy is showing.” Nico looked to the American as you reached down to grab his hand.

There was a look in your eyes that told him to keep calm and just let you lead the way. You stopped back at the couch, the simple two seater now felt tiny as Nico thought you were going to make him sit next to the Hughes boy in some sick kind of joke. Luckily for him, you didn’t let Nico stew in his misery for long, as you ended up back on your knees but on the couch next to Quinn. The only difference was that you were facing Nico as you used the arm of the sofa to lean against “she doesn’t like waiting Hischier.” Quinn teased looking at him for only a moment before he let his eyes fall back to the hem of your dress, it was just too long as it covered your sweet pussy that he wanted to see so desperately “who says I am making her wait.” Nico spat as he undid the button of his shorts before he pulled them down with his boxers.

You rubbed your thighs together as the thought of both boys fighting over you lit this fire in your pussy, the thoughts of them both fucking you made your mouth water as you didn’t know if you could even take both of them at once. But, boy, were you willing to try. Nico ran his hand over his cock, spreading his precum over the swollen head that was in front of your face “neeks let me.” Your voice was soft when you looked at him, bringing your hand over his before you brought your lips cock.

Nico watched as you did these pathetic little kitten licks, almost taunting him in the process. His hands gripped at your hair while he sent you a glare until Quinn did the first thing that Nico could actually agree with that day “just because you aren’t sucking my cock baby don’t mean that you can go off acting like a brat.” Quinn warned as he pushed your dress over your ass so he could hit your ass.

He lay a smack against your skin, making your eyes go wide as you moaned. Your body jolted, and as that happened, you took as much of Nico as you could in your mouth. Quinn smirked as he readjusted, letting his knees sit on the couch. He smirked as he watched your pussy flutter around nothing while his hand massaged your ass. He honestly thought that you were so cute doing this for him.

Quinn knew that you had your ass like that so he could get the perfect view of your cunt “fucking hell.” He ran his thumb over your slit while he smiled hearing you moan around Nico’s cock.

You almost felt conflicted, wanting to stretch your body to both boys. You wanted Nico in your throat and Quinn to be against you too “you can fuck her face.” He pumped his cock in his hand, resting his one foot on the floor.

Nico went to snap back but he was quickly stopped when Quinn slotted his cock into your cunt. Quickly bringing his hips against yours before you got a chance to adjust to his size. Your response was to tighten your throat around the head of Nico’s cock, digging your nails into his thighs.

It knocked the breath out of him as his hands tugged at your hair. You breathed through your nostrils, using Quinn’s thrusts to force Nico’s cock deeper into your throat. Quinn’s lips turned upright when he settled into a good pace “sweet girl you seen how good you sucking his cock?” Quinn cooed running his fingers over your ass as his fingers gripped at your hips.

Your cunt clenched around him as you looked up at Nico through your thick eyelashes. Nico ran his tongue over his lips feeling your tongue swirl around his cock before you let him hit deeper in your throat. The boy tried to pull away when you gagged but your fingers gripping at him was enough to stop him.

The pain in his thighs made his stomach tighten “fuck you are perfect.” Nico grunted hearing how the squelches of your cunt mixed with the gags of your mouth “and you thought she wasn’t a slut.” Quinn laughed, bringing his hand around to brush at your clit.

His cock throbbed against the slick walls of your cunt “she was waiting around for you to finally-” Quinn let out a moan watching how your back arched to get more of both cock “get unleashed by someone who could fuck her properly.” The American slapped your ass again making you whimper around Nico.

Nico would never have admitted it, but Nico used to think that your mouth was good, but now it was heavenly. You hollowed your cheeks as if his cock was a straw and you were drinking out of it “you wanna let him cum?” Quinn could see the look Nico gave you, how his lips were attacked by his teeth.

Swallowing his moans as he swore that you were going to make him cum harder than he ever had before. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you nodded, begging for Nico to cum on your tongue. For him to mark your throat, even if Quinn had already done that twice before “then I think he should let you hear how well you are making him feel.” Quinn brought his fingers from your clit to your boob. Taking your wetness to spread it around your nipple.

You whimpered as your body began to shake “she’s so responsive.” Quinn licked his lips “cause you love hearing how much of a cockslut you are don’t ya?” Your muffled whimpers echoed off of the walls as you nodded.

Quinn stood back up straight bringing his hand back to your clit “didn’t think you used to be with such a rude boy before baby.” Quinn’s taunts finally broke Nico “don’t stop using your tongue like that.” Nico begged, letting his head fall back.

The Swissman was now relying on you and Quinn’s thrusts to allow him to fuck your throat. His stomach tightened as his hair threw slick with sweat “your perfect fucking mouth is bringing him close.” Quinn teased, forcing himself to control his thrusts, feeling that you were close. He was, too, but he wanted to watch Nico finish first.

It was a total stroke to his ego watching Nico nod “just like that.” He encouraged you to continue hollowing your cheeks as your eyes didn’t leave his face. Studying his every reaction “think you should ask if you can make a mess in her mouth.” Your cunt clenched around Quinn feeling his calloused fingers against your clit, the roughness sending shivers through your body “you gonna let me cum in your pretty throat schatz?” You moaned hearing the question as your mind felt disconnected from the pleasure that you felt.

Your brain was foggy and Quinn knew that you were just desperate to cum too at that point “you’re asking the wrong person Neeks.” Quinn’s tone fucked with the boy, urging him to react. With one step out of line, Nico knew that it was all going to be over for him tonight “you think I’m going to ask you?” Nico laughed as he shook his head.

But watching the younger captain remain quiet, the Devils captain realised he was serious “I’m not fucking-” Nico went to argue but Quinn was quick to cut him off “doll stop sucking his cock.” Even as you were focused on being used by both boys, Quinn’s order was something that you were almost hardwired to respond to.

So you begun to pull away as you made your lips form an o shape “fuck Quinn please.” Nico looked at the younger boy “I just wanna cum.” You whimpered at the thought of him spraying his messy ropes of release down your throat.

Quinn clicked his tongue “such a shame that it just isn’t good enough.” He sighed as he shrugged still letting your his hips hit the curve of your ass “try again.” The Hughes boy ordered holding his hand against your chest to remind Nico that he really could pull you off of him.

Nico was getting frustrated, desperate to cum “sir.” Your words were muffled, but as Nico looked down at you, he could see that you were trying to say something. You let your tongue move so that you could speak even with his cock in your mouth “sir.” Quinn let out a dark chuckle, seeing that Nico had heard you properly this time.

The Swissman thought about it as Quinn let you slowly move your mouth against his length, hoping to encourage him “I can pull her-” Quinn’s threat that came for a second time seemed to finally break the boy “fuck let me cum sir.” The words slipped from Nico’s tongue in a way that he almost didn’t even care about what he had just said.

Quinn nodded as he sucked at his teeth “sweet girl you can finish him off.” The Hughes boy cooed finally letting Nico cum. Nico would have cringed if he had been told that this is what he would be doing, but in that moment god he just wanted to cum “don’t stop yes!” Nico gasped, sticking your head against his pubic bone.

The little bit of hair that he had tickled your nose as he forced his hips against you desperate to cum. Desire filled his sense as he squirmed, screwing his eyes shut so that he could imagine that he was the one in your cunt.

It didn’t take him long to feel his hips jitter as his fingers dug into your scalp, the pain making you moan against his cock sending him over the edge. His grunts bounced off of the walls of the room, Quinn felt slightly grateful that his room was away from everyone else’s. It meant that nobody else was going to be interrupting you once Quinn got the Swiss man out of there.

The older boys cum painted your throat “fuck schatz.” He ran his thumb over your cheek to wipe away your tears. You went to let his cock slip from between your lips but Quinn pressed his hand against your head, forcing you to have Nico’s cock right in the back of your throat “be a good little thing and keep his cock in your mouth while I destroy your pussy.” Your ears rang as you felt your stomach tighten while your cunt clenched around him.

You swore that Quinn’s cock was bigger, hitting spots in your pussy you had never felt him hit before. So as the head of his cock brushed against your g-spot you couldn’t help but moan, watching Nico keep your head flush against his cock.

Quinn hit your ass as he scoffed “be a good girl and stay fucking quiet okay?” His pace seemed to get even quicker as he turned animalistic, practically fucking you senseless.

Nico and Quinn all of a sudden seemed to be on the same team with the Swiss man tugging at your hair each time you moaned which was usually followed by Quinn smacking your ass “someone is starting to be a good girl now.” You nodded, hearing Nico’s words as your thighs ached, burning while Quinn’s hands held you up “you’re lucky I’m feeling generous.” The Canucks captain gritted through his teeth.

He was painfully close but he would never let them know that it was the reason why Quinn was going to let you cum “because now you get to see how fucking pretty this slut is when she cums on my cock.” The American patted your back as his hips drove into you.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as your body spasmed, clenching around Quinn’s cock so hard you swore you could have broken it. He hissed feeling how your gummy walls cream around his dick, spurring on his own orgasm “holy fuck-” Quinn cut himself off when he shot his creamy load into your cunt.

Quinn finally slowed down his thrusts, pulling out of you to see that Nico had already slipped his cock out of your mouth “how you feeling pretty girl?” Nico asked watching you rest on your arms as your ass was in the air “fucked.” A soft laugh left your lips when he ran his fingers through your hair.

He nodded, slipping his cock back into his boxers and shorts before he looked between you and Quinn “think I’ll get this one to bed.” Quinn ran his fingers along your back, making you shiver.

The Swiss man pursed his lips together “goodnight, you two.”Nico knew he had lost when he saw that you were so free “we will see you in the morning.” Quinn didn’t give two shits if Nico was taking this maturely and with grace, the Hughes boy wanted to have more of you and this time privately.

Nico stood at the door looking at you both “and if when you come back to Jersey.” He let his lips form a smirk “make sure to bring her along too.” Nico shot you a wink before he finally walked out of the room.

The door shut behind him as you looked at Quinn “he really meant nothing.” You sighed sitting flat on your ass when Quinn joined you “I mean we fucked a few times while I was there but it was just when we both needed someone.” That confession made his nostrils flare because that was what you both currently boiled down to.

After wins, defeats, lonely nights when he just didn’t want to be at his place, Quinn was at yours “you really mean that?” Quinn tucked your hair behind your ear as you nodded “and I haven’t spoken to him since I left because he had gotten a girlfriend.” Your words seemed to light a fire beneath him.

Did you really mean that if Nico didn’t have a girlfriend when you left, things would have been different? That you’d be in the Swissmans’ room as opposed to Quinns? Surely, you wanted Quinn the way he wanted you? Quinn shook his head as he kissed you, starting with your shoulder, slowly making his way up your jaw “Quinny.” You moaned, moving into his lap as if you were desperate to kiss him.

Quinn smiled as he brought his hands up your sides “hey pretty girl.” He cooed, hooking his fingers in the straps of your dress. He sucked at his teeth pulling them down your arms to reveal your pretty perky tits that bounced as if they praised Quinn for releasing them. You felt your cheeks grow hot “not fair, you’re still in this.” You softly laughed as you ran your fingers along the hem of his shirt.

He wasn’t going to argue; he didn’t want to argue with you, so he took his shirt off and as he did that, you pulled your dress off. Now you both sat there naked, but somehow you were feeling the most vulnerable that you had ever felt in front of someone “kissy?” You begged, running your fingers over his lips, making him smile.

The boy took your jaw between your fingers so that he could kiss you. There was no lust driving this kiss, there was just a want to be close to one another. Quinn’s tongue and fought with yours, it was this fight of back and forth that ended as he squeezed your ass in his hand.

A moan escaped from your lips as he smirked, his hands moved to your glutes so that he could pick you up. Your legs instantly wrapped around his hips when he stood, locking behind his back as if he was going to drop you since he focused on how your lips felt against his. He walked you back to the bed with such ease that if this was a Quinn, you didn’t know you would have been impressed. The boy dropped you onto the bed as if you were nothing more than his phone or wallet, watching how your breasts bounced when you landed on the soft mattress. Quinn smiled in awe, drinking in the sight of you naked and practically calling for him to come to you.

So the boy let his knees hit the bed, mattress dipping as you felt your mouth water “you gonna let me fuck this pussy again?” His words made you squirm as you forced your thighs together until his hand managed to get caught between them “can’t do that if you shut your legs on me, sweet girl.” Quinn made it seem so easy as his words turned you into putty, and with a deep breath, you let your thighs open again.

Allowing the boy to be faced with your cunt that so glistened for him “please Quinn.” You whined, wanting some kind of friction or move from him “please what?” The captain knew what you wanted, but you were going to have to spell it out to him if you wanted any kind of success tonight.

You chewed at your lip while your hands trailed over your nipples, which made him flick your thigh “use your words to ask me, or else I am gonna make sure you can’t touch anything.” His belt sat on the floor and you knew that Quinn wasn’t above using it and you weren’t in the mood to test him tonight “wanna watch you fuck me please.” Your works made him lick his lips, the offer was so inviting that he didn’t know how any sane person would turn it down.

So the boy made light work of moving you so that he could sit between your legs “such a well mannered girl.” The boy complimented you as he ran his fingers across your stomach. Your breath hitched, watching him move his torso so that he hovered over you “kiss?” He asked, puckering his lips as he watched you crack a grin. You nodded and this time the kiss was soft, you could have sworn there was love in it even as you gasped at the feeling of his cock’s head lazily dragged over your clit.

Quinn softly bit down on your lower lip when he let his cock sink into your cunt “fucking hell.” Your eyes screwed shut feeling how he felt letting your cunt cling to every inch of his dick “you feel so good.” Quinn confessed, kissing your forehead as he rolled his hips into yours.

You opened your eyes to see him hovering over you “w-want more.” You begged, feeling like the world around you had been sucked into this room leaving you as the only two people that mattered “is that so?” He asked with a smirk, letting his pace pick back up to what it was when you were on the couch.

In that moment you knew you sounded like a porn star but you didn’t even care. Gripping at your tits as you bounced with each thrust like he was going to fuck you into his bed “never gonna get over this perfect pussy.” Quinn let his head drop against your shoulder, his teeth grazing at your skin.

It was clear that both of you were still sensitive from your previous orgasms of the night as a slew of incoherent curses came from your lips “fuck I want it forever.” The captain confessed letting his cock ram into your cunt while he picked up your leg to bring it over his shoulder “you gonna let me have it sweetheart?” Quinn teased letting himself fuck your cunt even deeper than he had before.

Whimpers escaped from your lips as you nodded “please.” You mumbled feeling his one hand travel down to your slit. Pressing against your pelvis while his fingers toyed with that sensitive bud “what was that?” Quinn smirked, bringing his other hand up to your throat.

Pressing his thumb and middle fingers against the sides of your neck, “couldn’t hear ya.” He brought his face down to yours as he nipped at your jaw.

Softly sucking at your skin, it felt like a stark contrast to the abuse he was inflicting on your pussy “it’s yours Quinn.” You nodded and in that moment the American swore he was ready to cum and let his body give out from above you “fuck you are so dangerous.” He grunted letting out a hiss as your cunt clenched around him.

The boy could see it in your eyes “you gonna cum?” Quinn asked speeding up his fingers against your clit. You couldn’t get out a solid response just a string of whimpers as you nodded “make a mess on my cock so I can fuck you full.” His eyes traveled to your breasts, which he thought about growing bigger.

Neither one of you wanted kids at the moment, but that would be the truest act of staking his claim on you “go on.” He sucked at your ear lobe as your moans echoed against the walls of the room.

You should have felt embarrassed thinking about what this room had seen tonight, but instead you were arching your back while your free leg pressed against his lower back keeping him close to you. You cried feeling yourself cum as white spots scattered across your eyelids when you screwed them shut. Quinn couldn’t last when you squirmed, feeling your cunt flutter around his cock “just like that.” He nodded, chatting out those words while his cum coated the walls of your cunt.

Quinn moved his head so that he could kiss you as his thrusts came to a halt when you smiled “there you are pretty girl.” He mumbled pulling his cock out while he sat up to study you like a piece of art, his art.

His eyes burned into your pussy making you push yourself onto your elbows “what?” You cocked your head seeing him smile “I need to clean you up but don’t want to ruin this just yet.” The boy huffed as he got up off of the bed.

Before you could offer any kind of protest, he scooped you into his arms and brought you into his ensuite.

It was a room you knew fairly well, but usually, you were sneaking back to your own one at this point “something on your mind?” He asked, feeling you staring at him as he ran the rag into the tap “like this side of you.” Your confession made your cheeks turn red as he smiled, turning to look at you.

Quinn moved to be in between your legs as the warm cloth ran against your slit “think that you have one more in you?” The question was genuine, as he didn’t want to push you too far.

But you nodded “what do you have in mind?” He held his hand out to pull you off of the counter. Quickly turned you around as you instinctively spread your legs for him “you wanna watch how your boy fucks this pussy?” Quinn smirked running his now hard again dick against your clit.

Your head fell forward but still your eyes remained on him “fuck me like you mean it captain.” Oh, you were going to be the death of him, but he couldn’t have cared.

In fact, Quinn was ready to dig his grave for you because this man was yours.

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