Series Masterlist

series masterlist

Summary: The New Jersey Devils have a new coach. He has a cute daughter. Luke Hughes is screwed.

Or, in which Luke Hughes walks in on you changing, laying the groundwork for an interesting barbecue night at your parent's Hamptons house.

A/N: Hello my lovelies, I hope you are all well. It's been a while since you've gotten a full-length fic and let me tell you this one was on the drawing boards for a very long time. I started writing it before we knew who the new coach was and just hoped it would be announced before I was ready to publish it hehe. I hope you guys enjoy this very much, and I hope you enjoy it enough for part 2 (and 3, and 4, and-) because I may or may not be planning on making this a little series, depending on how much you guys would like that. Anyway, I enjoyed writing this a lot, from the team dynamics to the meddling teammates and parents and everything in between. If you do find this to be something worth a place in your heart, leave a little feedback? Also do that if you wish you'd never read it in the end, but please be nice, I might be sensitive. Okay, that's all for the word vommitting, enjoy everyone's favorite little simp embarrassing himself in front of his soon-to-be crush and then experience a ray of conflicting emotions<3

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"They'll be here in ten!" "I won't be ready in ten!"

You can almost see the way your mom is no doubt rolling her big brown eyes downstairs, standing with a perfectly manicured hand on the stairwell and shouting up the large open space for you and your brothers.

"No amount of that will make it better," your brother, Alex, deadpans as he walks by, throwing a judgy glance at the fluffy makeup brush in your hand, halfway through sliding it across your cheekbone. "Might as well come downstairs now," he continues his verbal assault, once again reminding you just how ruthless 14-year-olds can be.

"Get lost, yeah?" Throwing him a cursory glance, you kick the door shut with your bare foot, only just reachable from your place at your old-fashioned vanity. The blue Maple Leafs cap that you keep on the hooks behind the door falls from the force, reminding you once more what exactly you're getting ready for:

Meeting your dad's new team.

Truthfully, you knew it was coming the second the Leafs blew their playoff series. You just hadn't expected your dad's new coaching gig to be finalized so soon, nor that it would be in a state so close to your college. The decision to apply to NUY came easy, as you have always held a love for the city. Besides, with your family's beach house in the Hamptons, the very same place you're sitting in your bedroom right now, the city has always been close and you feel comfortable there, confident, even.

Both of those feelings are nowhere near present in this very moment, though, as the dread of meeting the entirety of the New Jersey Devils roster, plus their partners and children, leaves you already wanting to stay hidden and cooped up in your coastal-themed room, the navy blues and whites of your sheets looking much more inviting.

It isn't that you're nervous, per se, or even shy or introverted or whatever it might be, no.

Usually, you like to call yourself an extrovert. Just, an extrovert with a social battery that drains quickly around new people. Especially, around new people you need to give the very best impression. You want the players to like your dad, and as always, that extends to them liking you and the rest of your family. Which is why you've been taking all day to get ready for this team-get-together-barbecue.

And why you're still not ready, despite starting your makeup roughly two hours ago. In your defense, there might have been a few musical performances in between those hours, though.

As you manage the finishing touches of your makeup, car doors slam, and booming voices carry into your room through the open window.

That definitely wasn't ten minutes.

You decide you might as well take your time getting ready anyway, sure half the team isn't even here yet. Besides, your other younger brother, Evan, is still deep into his Fortnite game, judging by the occasional yells and swear words coming from his room across the hall, and no one's come to get him yet.

Finally finished with your hair and makeup, you rise, stop to hang the fallen cap back on its rightful hook, then walk the few steps to your full-length mirror where your two outfit choices are neatly hanging, and examine your options. In the end, you decide on your favorite little white and red sundress, the sweltering August heat putting you off your other option of flowy pants and a top. You also figure the inconspicuous nod to your new team colors won't hurt.

Slipping out of your pink robe, you reach for the dress and let it pool by your feet, deciding to step into it so as to not ruin your newly styled hair.

Just as you begin to bend down, the door to your room swings open with force, the poor Maple Leaf cap once more meeting the floor.

"Oh!" A tall boy stands in your doorway, head full of curls and mouth parted slightly. You're aware of who he is, of course you are. Growing up with your dad being, well, your dad and living in the city of hockey for a good four years, it would be weird if you didn't.

Especially considering Luke Hughes happens to be a well-talked-about player in hockey circles. You never realized he would be this cute up close, though. Okay, maybe that's a lie. Maybe, you know who he is and maybe your insistence on looking your absolute best has a little to do with him being here. Only maybe, though.

He stops dead in his tracks, his eyes widening in shock and locked on your half-covered figure. You let out a startled yelp, grabbing the nearest thing—your discarded robe—to cover yourself.

"What the hell?!" you shout, your heart racing.

Luke snaps back into motion, his face flushing red, the color beginning at the base of his neck up to the tip of his ears. If you weren't otherwise preoccupied with preserving your modesty, you might've taken a little more time to appreciate his broad shoulders and lean figure. Or maybe you would let your eyes linger on his flexed arm as he's gripping the door handle, maybe his square jaw and prominent jawline. You might have even wondered how his nose had come about to have a tiny scar on the bridge (a hockey incident?) if his eyes are hazel or green, or if he has female help to care for his curls.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! Your mom, I'm assuming she's your mom - the nice lady with the blue pants and red shirt? - said I could use the bathroom up here - the two downstairs are both preoccupied -, and I thought this was it but I must have gotten the doors confused and-"

You lift your hand, effectively stopping his rambles without a word.

"It's fine-"

"I'm so sorry!" Luke backs out hastily and slams the door shut behind him before you can finish your sentence.

For a moment, you stand frozen, towel clutched to your chest, trying to calm your racing heart. Well, that's one way to make a first impression, you think wryly. Taking a deep breath, you quickly finish changing, trying to shake off the embarrassment that follows, even though you know it technically wasn't your fault. As you pull the sundress up, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, noticing the color on your cheeks matches Luke's.

Fully dressed, you smooth down your sundress and check your reflection one last time. With a final, steadying breath (and a small pep talk to yourself in the mirror) you head downstairs.  Already from the hall, the sounds of laughter and small talk reach your eyes, multiple rooms of the house filled with people.

Your mom spots you quickly as you near the door leading onto the patio, her eyes lighting up with approval (your choice of clothes) and a hint of relief.

"There she is," she announces, relief flooding her face now that she's no longer holding the fort as hostess all by herself. She's standing by the pool, the water sparkling in the August sun and making a quick swim seem more than tempting, surrounded by what must be a few of the players' significant others. As you reach them, your mom makes quick work of the introductions, well-practiced from years of being a coach's wife.  

You easily slip into the conversation, the girls not wasting time including you. A few of them must be around your age, you think, hoping it'll give you a few familiar faces at upcoming games. They tell you about how excited their respective players were to have a new coach, how they hope this might be the turning point for the team, and all the standard things you're sure there might be a secret manuscript for. But they also take you by surprise, inviting you to sit with them at the games and home to whoever's hosting some of their get-togethers when they learn you go to NYU.

Despite their friendliness, you find yourself mindlessly searching the outdoor party, not quite sure exactly what you're looking for.

Eyes bouncing over the small sea (maybe more a lake?) of people, never resting long on one thing, you soon come to realize it's not a what but instead a who that you're searching for, as you spot Luke from across the garden.

He's chatting awkwardly with your dad, who's starting up the grill, and a few of his teammates - who are trying to help your dad - and his face is still a bit red, but he's playing it off nicely. It seems that way, at least, as his hands move animately, his words backing them up. For the first time, you let yourself take him in, silently approving of the white polo shirt he's chosen and how it stretches across his chest.

You know you have to squash the attraction before it can fully manifest, your dad has always been uncompromising on where he stood on you and "doing stuff" (his words) with his younger players.

Well, all of his players, age-appropriate or not.

Yet, when Luke catches you staring and you grin at him, hoping it conveys forgiveness, a shy schoolgirl giggle threatens to leave your lips and you can't help but think maybe.

Yet, when his shoulders visibly relax and you receive a crooked, grateful smile in return that makes your stomach do a flip, you think what if?

And yet, when a wave of confidence seems to wash over you and you send him a wink that has his blush growing back in full force, you decide it might be okay to let a teeny, tiny, insignificant little crush grow. Besides, you're not going to act on it, and either way, your dad doesn't have to know.

A sharp bark of laughter echoes through the garden, refocusing not only your attention on them but your mother's too.

"You should go over there, introduce yourself," she nudges you, a smug smile on her face you can't quite figure out the reasoning behind. Deciding to let it go, you bid your group goodbye for now.

The smell of smoke from the firepit in the middle of the garden and the salty sea breeze mix as you make your way through various clusters of people, reminding you just how much you love summer nights and barbecues like this. It's a beautiful afternoon, the sun still high in the sky and bathing the entire garden in warmth.

Smiling, nodding, and trying to avoid getting run over by tiny little people zooming past, mini sticks in hand, you stay focused on your end destination.

"Dad!" you call out when you're a few feet away. He turns, his face breaking into a wide grin when he sees you. You keep your gaze on him, afraid your face might light aflame, should you lock eyes with Luke again. One thing is the confidence you can muster with half a yard between you. Being this close to him is another one entirely. You quickly figure he's much the same.

"Hey, sweetheart," he says, putting an arm around your shoulders and squeezing for dramatic effect. "This is my daughter, Y/n," he announces to the players surrounding him. His voice is light, proud even, and the chuckle that follows his words tells no story of the hard look in his eyes, a mute warning.

"Nice to meet you," an accented voice finally draws your attention to the players. Kind dark eyes meet yours as he extends his hand. "I'm Nico."

"Nice to meet you too, Cap," you reply, shaking his hand firmly, hoping the nickname doesn't cross a line but rather relaxes the otherwise awkward air.

"Uh, this is Jack, Alex, Dawson, Timo-" he's pointing the guys out for you one by one. You don't tell them you know who they are, a combination of watching the occasional game of theirs and studying their roster this morning.

"-and this is Luke," he claps him on the back, a shit-eating grin on his face, which instinctively has you raising your eyebrow in question. Had Luke told them about how he walked in on you?

You don't get an answer -not that you were planning on asking him about it in front of everyone anyway- because barreling out into the garden comes Alex, dragging Evan behind him.

They're quick to join you, and you introduce them to everyone. Alex immediately starts talking about his favorite players, not one of them being the guys he's standing in front of. They take it in stride, though, and let him ramble about Mitch Marner and Sidney Crosby to their faces.  

Evan, always the more reserved of the two, stands beside you quietly. You know it's a combination of him being uncomfortable around all these new people, but also because his favorite player is Jack, who's only a few feet away from him.

"He's nice, you can talk to him," you murmur to Evan when the conversation flows and no one pays the two of you any mind.

"I'm not cool enough."

"You're cooler than me and I talked to him." You nudge him, hoping he'll take the chance to talk to his favorite player. Not that he won't have one again, but you know he'll be sad when the barbecue is over and he still hasn't told Jack he plays hockey too.

Evan rolls his eyes, and mumbles "Everyone is cooler than you," but smiles slightly nonetheless. Squeezing his shoulder, you return your attention to the conversation, not missing the way Luke's eyes seem to be permanently stuck on you.

A while later, Evan is fully engaged in hockey talk with Jack, who looks just as excited about the subject as your brother does, Alex has somehow roped John Marino into telling him stories from when he played with Sidney Crosby, and you're currently on the sidelines along with Simon Nemec's girlfriend and Jesper Bratt's fiancee, watching the game of the night. Okay, maybe a third watching, one-third talking to the girls and getting to know them better, the last third being your eyes drifting to one specific player every once in a while.

The game of the night is a tournament in cornhole. Fancy, you're awake. And if you were to guess, tipsy cornhole. Either way, the teams are as follows:

Luke, Simon and Alexander Holtz

Nico, Timo and Jonas Siegenthaler

Jesper, Dougie Hamilton and Brendan Smith

Dawson, Curtis and Erik Haula

A little too many players, but somehow they've acquired six stars and stripes colored bean bags and that seems to make it work.

From what you're gathering, they're playing three rounds, the winners of the first two playing against each other in the finale.

So far, they're halfway through game two, chirps and lighthearted insults flying through the air. All the guys are competitive, hockey players after all, and it's shining through in the way they're playing the simple yard game. At one point, after Holtz stretched a little too far mid-throw, they even had to get Ondrej Palat to be the unbiased referee. He ruled in favor of the Swiss team, though. Words of disagreement were spoken. Bean bags were thrown. It was a sight.

The end of game two is nearing, team Jesper versus team Dawson, the teams currently tied. As Haula prepares to throw his last mini bean bag, the deciding one, everyone seems to pause and hold their breath.

He throws, and as if it was nothing, the bean bag lands square in the hole.

Team Dawson erupts in cheers, having moved on to the final round against team Luke.

The two losing teams join you on the sidelines, not wanting to miss the grand finale, and the two winning teams begin to set up for the final game.

You watch, hopefully discreetly, as Luke passes the bean bags around to his teammates, muscles flexing and face shadowed by the Yankees baseball cap he's acquired from somewhere. When he lifts his shirt to wipe his face, a tiny bit of abs showing, you quickly avert your eyes, though.

I should talk to him, you think, wondering how mad your dad would truly be, wondering if Luke would even want to talk back to you. As you ponder, you accidentally space out, retreating into your mind and completely missing the commotion happening in front of you. It's not until Haula's walking away and Dawson and Curtis are frantically searching for a replacement teammate, that you realize what's happening.

Still, then, it's Nico's nudge to your arm that brings you back to reality, a scheming smirk on his face.

"Y/n wants to play!" Nico speaks up, authoritative and captain-like, leaving no room for argument. You snap your head towards him in disbelief, mouth dropping open and eyes narrowing, trying to figure out what he's playing at. He simply shoots you another grin, identical to the one from before.

"Really? That would be awesome!" Dawson catches your eye, looking relieved and so puppy-like you can hardly let him down.

"Oh, uh. Sure?"

You let him drag you to your feet and throw his arm around your shoulder and he leads you the short distance to their board. The grass tickles your bare feet as you follow him and perhaps if that wasn't distracting you, perhaps if the sun didn't shine directly into your eyes, you would've noticed how Luke sends him a not-so-subtle glare.

"Alright," Dawson says, leaning down and a little closer than necessary. You get the strange feeling he's playing the closeness up, but brush it off under the impression that he might just be a little drunker than the rest. "The trick is to aim for the board but don't be afraid to go for the hole if you feel confident. It's all about the arc and the release," he tells you, voice solemn. You burst out laughing.

"I've played cornhole before," you tell him, but keep your voice light so he knows you're joking around. Still, you remove his arm from your shoulder (much to the relief of the tall boy down by the other board) and take your position after Curtis.

"I'm just trying to make sure we win," Dawson tsks and pats you on the head like you're a child. You roll your eyes and shove him back, pleased with the sibling dynamic you've started to develop with him.

"We're playing against Luke, he's got the aim of a toddler. We'll be fine," Curtis can't resist but says and raises his voice a little to make sure his victim hears. You snicker.

"Ha ha, you're so funny," Luke deadpans, but his eyes still flicker to yours, trying to gauge what you think. He visibly relaxes when you smile at him softly, then gets ready to shoot.

Turns out, Luke doesn't have the aim of a toddler.

In fact, he seems to be the best player they've got on his team, much to the annoyance of your teammates. Okay, you're annoyed too. After all, your dad's competitive streak runs in your blood too.

Eventually, it's your team's turn, and your turn to shoot. Holding one bean bag in each hand, you get in position. Trying to squint and see the hole while fighting a war against the sun, you launch the bean bag.

The sun wins the battle, though, and the beanbag lands next to the board with a depressing thump. Curtis is quick to defend your bad shot, yelling something about how your team has a clear disadvantage and it's a rigged game.

Your opponents laugh it off as you get ready to take your second shot. Stopping you just before you can shoot, though, Dawson offers his cap to you. Before you can even attempt to deny his offer, the argument of how he then won't be able to see dying on your tongue as Luke marches the thirty-something feet over to your side and promptly places his Yankees cap on your head. He doesn't say a word and doesn't offer any explanation to his teammates who complain about their loss of advantage as he returns to them. You're sure your face is beet red as you adjust the cap, trying to gauge what his stony face means and simultaneously trying to shake the butterflies in your stomach.

Nevertheless, you're thankful for his sacrifice, now able to see the board. As was it child's play, your next shot lands the bean bag right in the hole. Your teammates cheer as you move to trade places with Dawson.

The Canadian is quick with his two shots, one landing in the hole and the other resting comfortably on the top of the board.

Soon, he's returning to your side as you wait for Luke's team and their turn.

"Nice hat," Dawson whispers as you watch Simon throw his first bean bag.

"Suits you," Curtis joins in as Simon prepares for the second throw.

"I don't want to hear a word," you whisper back, hoping the heat in your face disguises itself as the effects of the sun and that your voice comes out authoritative enough that they'll listen.

"Noted." You love Dawson.

"Hey Luke, can you even see with all those curls falling in your eyes now?" Curtis? Not so much. Oh well, one out of two is good enough.

Smacking his arm lightly, you risk a glance at Luke. Pretending not to hear his older teammate, he tosses the bean bag. It lands just shy of the board.

"I'm sure that's not what he's blinded by!" Timo yells from the sideline, earning a few hearty laughs from the other guys. His own is short-lived, though, as he soon has to put those quick hockey reflexes to use and duck to avoid the bean bag Luke sends his way. Not quite fast enough, the bag hits him square in the chest.

"Oops." Luke shrugs as Nico throws the bag back to him, no one telling him he technically used one of his two shots.

You're getting bored. Honestly, you should've known playing a competitive game with a bunch of competitive man-children would end in an argument sooner or later. Somehow, someone, messed up the score and the final result is proving harder and harder to decide by the second.

"What about a shoot-out?" Dougie's suggestion cuts over the multiple loud voices, all of them stopping at once. "How would that even work?" Holtz questions, but it isn't a total dismissal of the idea. "Best out of five?" "Best out of three?"

"Or up the stakes, fastest to five?" Evan suggests, voice timid. You turn your attention to him, pleased he feels comfortable enough to butt in and acknowledge his idea.

"That's a good one little man," someone calls out, and you realize it's Luke.

Evan is beaming and you're pretty sure you're the definition of heart eyes as you turn to look at him.

A few more proposals get thrown around before you collectively agree on the fastest to five option.

It's arranged so that each team picks one shooter, and they each have three bean bags at the same time, shooting them in quick succession and at the same time, then all over again if no one gets more points than the other.

"Okay, pick your shooter." Nico uses the captain's voice again. He's somehow managed to assume the rule of game official and is now leading the game.

"We'll go with Y/n!" Dawson says before you have a chance to huddle up and agree. You shoot him a look, but come up short of an argument when he and Curtis both say you've been the most reliable shooter of theirs. Not to toot your own horn, but you're still wondering how they managed to make it to the finale. It must be Haula's merit, you think.

"You've got this, champ." Dawson grips your shoulders from behind, imitating a boxer coach, as you turn around to face the other team's chosen shooter. Rolling your eyes, you lift them to find Luke in the same position as you, Holtz behind him the same way Dawson is prepping you.

The Swede is talking lowly to Luke, most likely a pep talk, but then Luke's eyebrows fly into the air and he turns to look at his friend with an incredulous look. Huh. Interesting.

"You guys ready?" Nico asks. You hum. Luke nods.

"Don't go easy on me just because I'm a girl," you holler at Luke. The chirping part of hockey was always the only thing you were good at.

"I'd never," he smirks back.

"Go easy on me because I'm your coach's daughter," you say instead.

His eyes widen in fear. You laugh so he knows you're joking.

"3...2...1...Go!"

You take Luke's momentary surprise as your chance, shooting your first bean bag before he's collected himself. It hits its intended target, but that also seems to snap Luke out of his stupor, and he's quick to fire his first bag too.

You pout as it goes through the hole.

He apologizes.

You can tell it's sincere.

Simon chastises him for doing so.

Drowning out the cheers and hoots from the onlookers, consisting of pretty much the whole party now and most of them seeming to cheer you on, you focus on hitting the hole once more, and quickly.

Luke is just as fast as you, though, and somehow the beanbags manage to collide mid-air, stopping each other's momentum and falling to the ground in the middle of the two boards. A groan escapes you as the both of you scramble to throw the last bean bags. Just as you shoot, your eyes lock with Luke's green ones, and a flicker of something you can't quite place passes through them.

You both shoot.

Your bean bag lands in the hole.

Luke's bag falls a few feet to the left of the board.

"We won! You did it!!!" Dawson grabs your shoulders and shakes you as Curtis excitedly slaps his back and ruffles your covered hair, the cap sliding around, your head smaller than its owner's.

"Wait- what do we win?" Curtis turns to Nico, then to the losing team, who's mid-interrogating Luke on how he missed that shot. Truthfully, you're wondering the same thing.

"Umm, how about they carry your bags the first month of away games?" Nico suggests, Dawson and Curtis nodding along in agreement. You step towards Nico in protest, though.

"Uh, no, how does that get me anything?" You jokingly scowl, throwing a quick look at your teammates.

Curtis gets a contemplative look on his face as he shifts through ideas for a prize in his mind, while Dawson nods along to your words.

"That's true, she did win for us," he says.

"We buy you food?" Simon asks more than suggests and you turn to them, just missing the way Holtz smacks him on the back of the head.

You don't miss the quiet "No, Luke's the only one who'll do that," and the smirk accompanying his teasing. Nor do you miss the way Luke dishes out a smack to Holtz's head.

"Come to the first practice and you get to decide their drills," your dad cuts in. You're unclear on if it's to stop the not-so-subtle thing everyone's got going on about Luke and you, or if he's simply wanting to see his three youngest players suffering. Either way, you like the sound of his proposal.

So, it's decided: Luke, Simon and Holtz will be carrying Dawson and Curtis' luggage and whatnot for the first month of away games, and (after a little bargaining) you'll decide the three boy's drills for the first two practices.

"You're the hot Swede?!" You exclaim, trying to keep your patty in your mouth as you look at Holtz, or Holtzy as you're calling him now, in disbelief. He chuckles and takes a big bite of his own burger, wincing slightly at the charred taste. You love your dad, truly, but a master of the grill he'll never be. You know it, he knows it, your mom knows it, everyone knows it.

Why he insisted on grilling the food tonight and why anyone let him you have no idea.

Having sat down next to Holtzy at one of the tables scattered around the garden, you had quickly fallen into comfortable small talk, with Dawson, Jack and Evan (who haven't left Jack's side all night) joining.

Your conversations mostly consisted of random subjects, hockey taking up a majority of the words. That was until you had mentioned your freshman year roommate, and best friend, Claudia, and Holtzy's eyes had lit up with interest. He had asked if there was any chance you were talking about Claudia Dupont, and when you confirmed it was indeed her, he told you he'd been having an "arrangement" with her since he came to Jersey.

You know she has a semi-regular hookup and that it's been going on for a while, after all, you tell each other everything.

Well, almost everything, because for some reason, she never wanted to tell you the name of this mystery hookup, or anything about him. Besides the fact he's from Sweden, that is. You understand why now. Still, you were going to tease her endlessly about this.

"What can I say, it's the Swedish charm."

You fake gag, but it only eggs him on. Jack mumbles something about it probably just being something she's checking off on her naughty bucket list and the rest of the table collectively lets out an "oooh".

Except for Evan, his ears were covered by Jack before the forward spoke up.

Their chirping continues back and forth, and you decide it's your opportunity to grab another drink. Rising from your chair, you head towards the outdoor fridge, only stopping to have a brief chat with Simon's girlfriend, who you're coming to like more and more as the night goes on.

Promising to bring her back a Dr. Pepper, you leave her for your original destination. Finding her drink quickly, you take a minute to peruse the fridge for anything interesting and you end up trying to decide between a lemonade and coke.

"I'd go with the coke."

You jump at the sound of his scratchy voice, hurrying to turn around and bumping your knee against the fridge door in the process. Pain shoots through your leg and you wince, losing your balance in the process.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

Luke grabs ahold of your bicep, the action meant to steady you. Instead, it leaves you more disoriented, his cologne filling your nostrils and has your knees weak. If you were a betting woman, you'd put your money on him wearing Dior Sauvage and while it's cliche and you're trying not to roll your eyes at the predictability of him wearing that scent, you also can't deny that he smells good. Aaaaand you've been quiet for way too long analyzing his cologne and this is getting embarrassing for you the longer you don't say anything.

"You're good, don't worry," you tell him as you regain your hold of yourself and manage to take a step away from him. Not that you don't want to be near him, but you're pretty sure if you keep standing so close you can feel the heat radiating from his body, you might do something stupid.

Like touching the scar just to the right of his chin.

Stealing a glance at him, you're surprised that you have to crane your neck so much, even while standing a few feet away. He's tall, which you knew, of course, but he's tall and has such a cute smile, and his shoulders are so broad, his eyes are so pretty and his curls are practically beckoning you to touch them. His curls. His curls that you can see, because you're still wearing his cap, you realize.

Luke's lips, which are sporting his crooked smile that you've come to adore in the last few hours, quickly slide south as you reach up to remove the hat from your head.

"Here, you'll want this back-"

"No, no! It looks better on you! I mean, it looks better than the Maple Leafs one does, I'm sure. Not that you don't look good in that, I think you'd look good in anything, but-"

"Luke," you giggle and he stops, the realization that he's been rambling once more in your company settling in. You don't mind, the way he seems to be much more confident when you're further away and surrounded by his teammates intriguing you. Maybe you're more alike than you realized.

Besides, it means, at least you hope it means, that your blooming crush isn't entirely one-sided.

"I'm sorry," he says again, large palm moving to the back of his neck and his eyes not quite wanting to meet yours again, long fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. The motion brings forth flashbacks of when you got a peek at his abs earlier, and it suddenly feels like the temperature rises a few degrees.

Deciding to bail him, and yourself, out, you change the subject.

"You let me win."

It sounds more accusatory than you'd like, but you mean it as more of a statement. You've been replaying the cornhole game over and over in your head, specifically Luke's last toss and it's the only explanation you've come to believe. Luke lets out a strangled cough and you think your change of subject didn't get him as much off the hook as you had planned.

"I wanted you to be impressed with my cornhole skills so I was playing my best. But then you joined the enemy and put me in a tough spot," he mumbles, color flooding his cheeks.

"And you thought the impression would be better if you let me win?"

"Eh, I try to be a gentleman."

"Oh reaaally?"

He shoves your shoulder gently when you teasingly arch a brow at him.

"Did it work?" He asks anyway.

"The impressing or the gentlemanning," he laughs at your made-up word, and the corners of his eyes crinkle sweetly. Maybe you're already more down bad than you realized.

"Both?" There's a vulnerable note to his voice, and in a moment of weakness, you lay your hand on his bicep. He tenses the muscle, leaving you unsure if he's trying to show off or is simply a little uncomfortable.

"I was impressed," you admit, hoping it'll instill a little more confidence in him again and that he'll get the double meaning. He flexes once more. Showing off. You smile. Your hand slides down his arm, briefly touching his hand on its way back to your side. His fingers momentarily stretch out to chase yours, a movement you're sure he doesn't even realize he's doing, and yet.

Yet, you let hope bloom in your chest.

"And the gentlemanning?" Getting bolder, Luke takes a step towards you.

"To be decided." Your head tilts back as he invades your space, not willing to break eye contact, not willing to back down from whatever's changed between you within the last minute.

"Do I have any say in which way the judge sways?" His hand comes to lay beside you, resting on the fridge you're leaning up against. It feels like you've just finished running a marathon, your heart about to beat out of your chest, air leaving your lungs and your voice coming out a little breathy. You're acutely aware of where you are, who you are, who he is, and who may be watching.

"I'll be back in the city beginning of September," you say, answering his question without an answer. His brows briefly furrow, but then a look of realization spreads on his handsome face and your heart does a weird thump thump thump as his smile widens.

Deciding you've put your heart enough on the line, for now, at least, you grab the Dr. Pepper and your own Coke and head back towards the party. You can't resist but glance at him over your shoulder, though.

He's standing frozen, hand still on the fridge, watching you walk away. You smile at him. He winks. You wonder once more about the confidence from afar. It's better than lingering on the giddy feeling in your chest.

As you drop off the Dr. Pepper to Simon's girlfriend and return to your table, Dawson nudges you, letting you know he saw that entire thing.

You shrug him off. "It's nothing," you whisper.

"Sure, and I suck at hockey," he whispers back.

"Weeell..." Your eyes drift to where Luke sits next to Simon, two tables over.

"Rude. You know Luke's-" He starts, a mischievous smile breaking free from its restraints.

"Eat your food." Luke turns his head, curls bouncing a little, and catches you staring. Shit. You return your attention to Dawson.

"Yes, Ma'am." He salutes you, but the grin remains as he digs into his food.

Following his lead, you try to immerse yourself in the conversation around the table. Still, you can't help but occasionally find Luke across the tables. If Dawson notices he says nothing, and for that, you're grateful because your mind is busy running a million scenarios through.

You've just set yourself up for the biggest heartbreak of your life, or maybe, just maybe, your happy ever after.

Chapter 2: 'twas a dark, stormy night...

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Summary: As a storm moves over Lake Wesding, you have no choice but to spend the night at the Hughes' house. Might the bout of bad luck lead to reconciliation between two friends?

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For as long as you could remember, you'd hated storms.

They never seemed to bring anything but trouble with them, and throughout the years, this theory of yours had only proved to be true again and again.

When you were four, a storm prevented you from spending Christmas Eve with your dad's family in Michigan.

When you were six, you broke your leg while riding your bike at the onset of a storm.

When you were ten, a tree fell on the roof of your house during a bad storm, forever instilling fear of the weather in you.

When you were twelve, there was such a violent storm the night before your birthday that none of the decorations you had helped your mom put up in the tent in the backyard survived.

When you were fourteen, your beloved kitten somehow got out during a storm and didn't survive the night.

When you were sixteen, you and Luke had your worst (and first) fight just before a storm broke out. He wasn't there to comfort you over the phone as he usually did. You both felt terrible still.

When you were eighteen, your most important soccer match yet got canceled due to looming bad weather.

This one looked to be no different. When Luke had left you high and dry shoreside with his brothers, not even sparing as much as a glance in your general direction, and steered the boat away from the dock, you had truly thought your day couldn't get any worse. He'd left you with a bunch of unresolved feelings, the biggest of them all burning embarrassment, that had made you want to crawl into a hole and disappear forever. Or maybe just burst into tears. So when you'd gotten more bad news, a text saying that a storm was moving over central Michigan and all flights were canceled, that's exactly what you did.

For thirty minutes, you had been inconsolable, tears streaming down your face and jumbled blabbering no one was able to decode spilling from your lips. Quinn had looked at you in concern, Jack had seemed unaware of how to handle your current state, and so it was Trevor and Cole who assumed the roles of court jesters to get you back in good spirits. They tried everything: poking fun of Luke, making fun of each other, pushing each other in the pool, and still, nothing helped.

Finally, Quinn got the bright idea of getting Annie and Isa on the phone, and while that helped a bit, the damage had already been done. Because as much as you loved the guys, Luke's hot and cold behavior had you looking forward to debriefing with Annie and Isa, and they simply couldn't compare. Not that you'd ever spill your inner tumult about Luke to the guys, though.

You talked to the girls for a bit, but with their plane never going airborne, they were scrambling to find other options. It resulted in them being rebooked to a flight the following day, meaning you'd have to spend a night all alone at your lake house.

With a storm soon to come.

Alone.

With a storm.

Did you mention you were going to be alone in a big empty lake house with a storm raging outside?

Thankfully, knowing how enthusiastic (not) you felt about that whole thing, Quinn had been quick to offer you a room at their house for the night, much like his initial suggestion had been when they were trying to convince you to come to Michigan in the first place. You didn't even try to pretend you were fine with going back to your own house.

The only flaw in the oldest Hughes' plan was that, although a big house, it only consisted of five bedrooms, all of which were currently occupied by various hockey boys. Quinn, Jack, and Luke all had their own, with Trevor and Cole sharing one of the guest bedrooms and Dylan, Ethan, and Mark sharing the other.

Fortunately for you (or unfortunately, depending on how you viewed the situation at hand), that had been the exact moment Luke and his friends had returned from their boating adventures, wandering into the living room right as you were telling Quinn you could just sleep on their couch.

"No, take my room," Luke grumbled as he passed you, trying to get to the fridge. Opening it and taking a slow perusal, you eyed the perfect opportunity to shoot daggers into his broad back. Who was he to come in and be all bossy with you? What if you didn't want to sleep in his bed?

But then again, you did want to. Somehow, his bed was the most comfortable one you'd ever laid in, but to be honest, your hurt and upset were clouding your rational thoughts. Which explained why you decided to be a pain in his ass and go the stubborn route.

"No, I'll take the couch," you bit back, only to receive a roll of his green eyes as he turned back around, Tupperware filled with some sort of leftovers in hand. "No, I'll take the couch. You take my room, end of discussion."

You huffed and opened your mouth to argue once more, but he simply held a hand in the air and pointed his fork at you.

"End of discussion."

Truthfully, you had thought he deserved a night on the uncomfortable, slightly dirty (it was the party hook-up spot) pull-out couch they kept in the basement, so you decided to let him win said discussion. Sure, the two of you could have shared his room, not strangers to sharing beds and the occasional cuddle, but it also didn't take a genius to realize the vibes were off between you.

And you hated it, hated how you hadn't gotten a proper hug from him or had him tell you about everything he had seen in Prague. Well, had him tell you a second time, but in your mind, Facetime hadn't properly counted, and it certainly hadn't compared to seeing the emotions flicker across his face in real time, in real life.

The rest of the day had gone no better, with an awkward, tense atmosphere lingering in the air. The boys had walked around on eggshells around Luke and you, no matter how much you could tell they tried to hide it with their usual jokes and weird antics. It had all felt strained and forced, and you worried the rest of the summer might continue like this.

Fights between Luke and you had been rare and far between, and you could only count the ones where you'd gone days without speaking on one hand. This also meant that everyone else around you seemingly forgot how to act.

Usually, you would have been nestled under Luke's arm during stormy movie nights, but due to the current circumstances, you were instead situated between Quinn and Cole, with Luke sprawled out on the other end of the big couch in the den. As everyone else filed into the room, ready for your Mighty Ducks marathon, they all shot you weird looks, trying to determine where to sit. You felt bad for making them uncomfortable, but Luke was still half-ignoring you and you weren't going to be the one to crack first and demand an explanation. Besides, Quinn and Jack had invited you, and sure, it was with the intent of coming for their little brother, but they had invited you nonetheless, and if Luke wasn't thrilled you were here, at least they were.

All day you had been passed around, a hot commodity (or more likely: someone new to talk to), and by the time evening had rolled around, Jack had been non-stop talking your ear off about all the weirdest little hobbies he'd acquired since his shoulder surgery had left him partly immobile. Quinn softly told you about the playoffs, Trevor tried to make you catch popcorn he was throwing from a two-person distance, and Cole not-so-subtly inquired about Isa's current love life.

The storm had officially begun not too long ago, washing in over Lake Wesding and the house, casting a gloomy glow over the room. Despite the loud noise of the TV and feeling safe with Quinn and Cole trying their best to distract you, you were still shaking.

On the other side of the couch, you briefly registered Ethan showing the rest of the Umich boys someone's Instagram, but the teasing words you had prepped and ready to go got stuck in your throat as lightning struck, thunder soon following. Immediately, Luke's eyes moved to yours, concern written all over his face.

Ignoring him, you pulled the blanket Cole and you were sharing tighter around you and moved closer to him in the process. Luke didn't get to be concerned if he couldn't even try to act happy seeing you. But as Cole tried his best to distract you, showing you dumb cat videos on his phone and wrapping his arm around you, you completely missed the way Luke's eyes hardened, his mouth forming a thin line, and his jaw clenching.

˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡°

It was late. Everyone had gone to bed, and you regretted not taking Trevor up on his suggestion to spend the night in his and Cole's room, joke or not.

The rain came down hard on the roof, and thunder and lightning continued to light up Luke's room before the clapping of thunder followed, making you jump each time. You were nestled in the middle of his bed, his comforters drawn up tight around you, and wearing his hoodie (his most recently used one that you'd stolen from the giant mountain of clothes piling on a chair in the corner of the room) with the hood up around your ears, trying to muffle the sounds. It wasn't helping in the slightest.

Had it not been for the alarm clock on Luke's bedside table flashing bright red lights of 2:03 am, you would have swallowed back your pride and ventured downstairs to find him. Luke had always been the one thing, the one person, who could distract you from a bad storm and simultaneously make you feel safe during it.

What you weren't going to do, though, was wake up the whole house in the process. And, perhaps, you were trying to cling onto the last shred of dignity you had left too.

Luke's room lit up once more, and you mentally prepared yourself for the boom of thunder that would inevitably follow. It did, only a few seconds later, telling you that the storm was moving closer. But this time, it wasn't the loud noise that sent a fright through your body. No, it was the way the bedroom door cracked open, and all you could see was a dark silhouette in the dim light coming from the hall.

"Can I come in?"

Luke. The person was Luke, and at the realization, you released a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding.

"Y/n? Are you asleep?" You both knew you could never sleep through a storm this bad.

"No, you can come in." Your voice was shaky, and you cursed yourself for it, hating the way you were twenty years old and still afraid of rough weather.

The door creaked as he carefully shut it, once more encapsulating the room in darkness. Neither of you said anything as he tiptoed towards you, the silence almost sacred, something not to be broken. However, that didn't stop the small giggle you let out when you heard him bang his toe against the bedframe, a small curse leaving his lips.

"Are you okay?" he whispered once he found the bed, not asking for permission to lie down next to you and wiggle under the navy covers.

"Uh-huh," you were cut off by another flash of light, this one illuminating his sleep-riddled face and messy, laid-on curls. You almost felt bad that you had him awake at this time of night, but then you remembered he chose to come in here himself. Damn him and his thoughtfulness.

The boom brought you out of your thoughts, catching you off guard, and a pathetic little yelp escaped you. Luke didn't waste any time and quickly found your body in the darkness, pulling you closer and wrapping you in his toned arms. Deciding not to dwell on how this was the first time you were this close to him all day, you instead focused your attention on smushing your face into the center of his chest and taking in his comforting smell. You were both quiet as Luke rubbed soothing circles along your back, keeping you safely tucked into his body, and for the first time since the storm rolled around, you could relax.

That was until Luke decided to bring up the elephant in the room.

"You're upset with me." Not a question, not a pondering, merely a statement that was painfully obvious. The soft fabric of his t-shirt rubbed along your cheek as you nodded into his chest, foregoing words. He didn't deserve them yet.

"I'm sorry."

Pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, Luke held you closer, already having anticipated the clap of thunder that followed not even two seconds later.

"I really am, I acted like a shithead."

"Yeah," you whispered into his shirt, and he breathed out, the beginning of a laugh coming out choked as you continued.

"It's okay if you weren't happy to see me or if you do not want me here, Luke. We don't have to be together twenty-four-seven—" Your fingers found his shirt, and you grabbed onto it, bunching it up into your fist as you tried to play off the vulnerable note in your voice as sleep.

"No! I mean, I do want you here. God, I'm so happy you are here. I was going crazy without you," he was quick to interrupt you, pulling away a few inches so he could look you in the eye, or at least in the general direction of them, seeing as his room was pitch black. You could imagine his without any light, though. They were clear as day in your mind, the dark green orbs and the way they'd be ridden with guilt and regret.

"Then why—" Your voice cracked as a wet, hot tear landed on your cheek, momentarily distracting you. Always having been an emotional crier, whether said emotion was anger, sadness, or happiness, you were sure Luke had anticipated it.

"I—" Luke started, but he didn't seem to have an end to his sentence ready. Instead, you could feel him mentally check out of your conversation, mind going somewhere you couldn't follow, couldn't read him like an open book as you were usually so good at. Maybe to a place where he had an excuse.

⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡° Twelve hours earlier ⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡°

"So what is it with her?"

Luke would say he was pretty good at drowning out the nonsense his friends tended to spew. He'd been around them for three years, they never seemed to shut up. Learning by conditioning, he liked to say.

"He's into her," Ethan declared. Luke was still only listening with half an ear. It was a beautiful day, the sun shining hitting the lake just right and making it like someone had dumped a truck full of glitter into it. He should take a picture of it for Y/n, he thought, knowing it's one of your most treasured phenomenons.

"Yeah, he's been crushing die-hard on Y/n for ageees," Cole agreed, and at this, Luke snapped to attention and immediately lifted his head from the pool floatie it had been resting on. The floatie wobbled, and he tried to shift his weight evenly so it would stop.

Looking around at the gathering of guys (his brothers, Trevor, Cole, Ethan, Mark, and Dylan) in frantic bewilderment, he tried to gather his wits to defend himself.

"On Y/n? What? No! We're best friends—" His argument fell on deaf ears.

"Who said we were talking about you?" Well, except for Trevor's, but he ignored that. He knew they were. The way they were all sending him shit-eating grins confirmed as much.

"No, not a crush—" Dylan said, and to that, he listened, agreed, even.

"Thank you."

"—he's practically in love with her." Maybe he had spoken too soon.

"I'm not in love with her!" Somehow, his body reacted to the force he put behind those words, and the pink floatie Y/n tended to favor wobbled once more. This time his attempts to save himself bore no fruit, and soon he was standing on the floor of the pool, drenched from head to toe.

"Yes, you are; you talk about her all the time," Dylan deadpanned. The rest of his so-called friends murmured their agreement.

"That's not true," and yet, despite his words, Luke had a hard time coming up with evidence that disproved them.

"Hey Luke, where should we get lunch?" Trevor interrupted, momentarily distracting him from his efforts.

"Oh! Y/n mentioned wings the other day, and I've been wanting to go." Luke realized too late he'd been conned. Trevor spread his arms out in front of him as if to say, "See?"

So maybe Luke did talk about Y/n a lot, but she was his best friend. That was no crime; Jack mentioned his best friends all the time too.

His best friends aren't a girl, a gorgeous one at that, are they now? a traitorous voice in his head said. He shooed it away. Girls and guys could be platonic friends their entire lives without feelings ever being involved. They could share beds and cuddle and talk almost all hours of the day, and so what if one random New Year's Eve party ended up with them slee-

"How come we've never met this girl?" Mark asked, breaking the repetitive conversation of how much on a scale of one to ten Luke was down bad for his best friend. The question hung in the air, as still and expectant as the calm waters of the lake. Yet, Luke felt a storm brewing.

"Luke likes to keep her to himself," Dylan snickered. Luke splashed water onto him. It didn't shut him up, but it was worth a try. The dirty look he got from Quinn, who unfortunately ended up being collateral, had him retreating to the floatie, though.

"No, last year you guys just left before she got here," Luke avoided telling them he had planned it that way on purpose and that the plan came about after Ethan's "she's kinda hot" comment when he saw a Polaroid of her in Luke's college bedroom. It was simply an insignificant little detail, not one important to the overall explanation. Besides, Luke knew she was hot; he had eyes. That didn't mean he was in love with her, though. Did it?

---

"Luke?"

He had been quiet for a few minutes, and if it weren't for the way he was still caressing your back, your first thought would've been that he had fallen asleep.

The sound of your small voice seemed to bring him out of whatever haze he was in, and he cleared his throat as he pulled you closer once more.

"I don't know. I guess I was surprised to see you, and I didn't handle it well. I'm sorry." He was lying through his teeth, you could tell. Not about the sorry part; you knew that was sincere. A few years back, you had made a promise to each other that you'd only ever say the word sorry if you truly meant it.

No, he knew why he had acted off, and you could respect it if he didn't want to tell you. That didn't mean your mind wouldn't be racing 300 miles a minute trying to figure it out, though.

"Can we just... start over?"

Wondering for a brief second if you should push him to come clean, you decided to take the high road and instead nodded into his shirt. A deep breath escaped the boy curled around you, limbs relaxing into you in a more comfortable hold. But then, he rolled away from you, catching you off guard and leaving you wondering if you had done anything wrong.

As Luke moved to the other side of the bed, the cold quickly encapsulated you, your body mourning the loss of his heat.

"What are you—" You barely got the words out before he slung his long, lanky body on top of yours again, the weight of it crushing you and making you let out an oof.

"Ohmygoshyou'rehereImissedyousomuchwhatareyoudoingheresoearlyI'msohappyyourehere," Luke rushed out, cradling you into him, holding your head in his grasp like you were a precious thing. Your confusion quickly subsided as you realized he was quite literally starting over, pretending this was the first time today that he saw you. The ridiculousness of it all had you laughing, unable to stop once his fingers attached themselves to the side of your waist and started hurriedly moving up and down your sides.

The bastard was tickling you.

Soon, your laugh turned into cries of pleas, begging him to stop his assault, but there was no real force behind your request. It was nice having your dynamic back to normal.

"I missed you," Luke said once he had finally stopped and you were back in his arms, covers wrapped around you once more, despite them being all twisted and messed up from your antics. His face was closer to you now, and you could feel his warm breath on your cheek. The heat from it traveled all over your body, not just staying at the place it touched, and you scrambled to distract yourself from it.

"So I've been told," you teased him, squirming when his hand quickly shot down to poke your waist. "I missed you too."

Your admittance hung in the air for a second, and then, almost like magic, it was as if the past few hours had never happened. Like you were just Y/n and Luke again, no weirdness, no nothing. Despite the late hour, the two of you were quick to launch into a hushed catching up, telling each other what you had been up to in the last few weeks in such detail the other could almost pretend they were there.

You told him about your two weeks in New York and how you had found a bunch of food spots the two of you needed to try once the season and your school year started back up. You told him about the Yankees game you had gone to (he pouted and told you he wished he had been there. You shared the sentiment) and the elderly woman across the street whom you had started helping with groceries. You told him about how you hadn't realized you had missed your parents and your childhood home so much until you stood in the hall and had them welcome you back. You told him about all the hikes you had taken Wayne, your elderly Labrador, on and how excited you were for him and your parents to come to the lake.

And then he told you about Prague, about the city and how different it was from New York. He told you about getting to play in the World Championship again, how he had wished at least one of his brothers had been there but having Trevor and Cole had helped a little. He told you about how horrible he had felt when they had lost, and how happy he had been to be back on US soil. He told you that being in Jersey for a few days without you there had sucked, that he had been counting down the days until he came to the lake and you would be there.

Soon, you both went quiet. Except for the occasional thunder and light patter of rain, the only sound you could hear was Luke's heavy breathing and the feel of the steady rise and fall of his chest beside you in the darkness. You were so sure he was almost tipping over the edge into dreamland.

But one thing lingered in your mind; how he hadn't mentioned going to the Duke Lake House during Memorial weekend.

Maybe he forgot, you thought. Maybe it wasn't interesting enough to recount. Or maybe the nausea you'd been feeling the entire time he was there hadn't been unwarranted. He'd been texting you the entire weekend, Facetime was not an uncommon occurrence either.

But you knew Dylan's sister's friends were there that weekend as well, and you knew they were all pretty sorority girls, with long legs and no doubt experts in applying fake tan without it ending up patchy.

And as much as you were telling yourself you didn't care, that Luke was just your best friend and nothing more, nothing less, you couldn't help but wonder if he hadn't told you because he'd met someone there.

Talked to someone. Shared a bed with her.

Like he was doing with you right now.

“Did you have fun in Ohio?" you asked him when the tip of your tongue almost fell off from biting it. Your question lacked all the tact and nonchalance in the world, but you hoped he was too tired to pick up on it.

Luke was quiet for a second and took a beat to process your words. Possibly to figure out an answer. Or a lie, Negative Nancy whispered. But why would he lie to you if he had hooked up with someone? You were best friends, they talked about stuff like that. Except, that had never been the nature of your relationship. Ever.

“No," came his simple response at last.

“Oh, why not?” Stop pressing, you thought to yourself.

“Too many people."

You should've known that would be his reasoning. After all, Luke was your favorite introvert, and his social battery tended to drain quicker than a sieve. Not with you, though, never with you. Unless he just hid it better. But then why would he drag you with him when sneaking away from events and large family gatherings? Why would he come over to your house to seek refuge from the craziness going on in his own?

Big questions for three a.m., and you were losing track of the original conversation.

“Lots of people in this house too. You didn’t have a little fun?”

Luke hummed and scooted up so your head could rest in the crook of his neck. His nose had brushed against your hair, and you had quickly found yourself so comfortable that you'd almost forgotten you asked a question.

“Rather be here with you. Like the people here more."

You had been lying so close together that you could hear the words rumble up his throat, hear how it took him much more effort to get them out than a few minutes ago. He had been tired, and so had you, so you had taken his words at face value and had tried to convince yourself they weren't a deflection.

Either way, you had been the one he was lying wrapped around in that very moment, and that very thought was what finally had put you to sleep.

would you ever consider writing for Luke x hischier!sister again? I loved ur fic on it and honestly Nico gives huge protective big bro vibes to me 😭

CAP’S SISTER — luke hughes x hischier sister!reader

Summary: two times Nico was a certified Luke hater and the time he got a grip.

note: I always love writing sister fics so enjoy!

1. the date aftermath

Luke’s arm was around your shoulder, your hand reaching up to interlock your fingers with his as the two of you rode up in the elevator. You leaned into his warmth, basking in the post-date bliss.

Luke had taken you out for lunch and a walk around the city, the two of you immersed in one another. The winter chill did little to deter you two as he ensured you were wrapped up well in one of his hoodies and beanies and your own jacket and scarf. He had the entire day off from hockey, allowing the both of you to relish the free time.

The elevator dinged as it reached your floor and the two of you stepped out, still wrapped up in each other. The only noise in the hallway was the soft shuffle of your steps and the faint hum mindlessly escaping Luke’s lips. His hand slipped from your fingers to your waist, pulling you closer as you approached the apartment you shared with your brother.

He turned you so that your chest brushed his, his eyes twinkling with that familiar affectionate gleam. Your head tilted up to look at him with a soft smile pulling at your lips, as he lifted his hand to cup your cheek.

“You going to kiss me, Hughes?” You whispered, your eyebrow raising as he emitted a low chuckle.

"Come here," Luke murmured, pulling you closer into his comfort. His lips gently pressed against your forehead, then your nose, before finally meeting your lips in a familiar kiss. It was slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that stroked the embers of your desires.

"Today was fun," you mumbled, you pulled back slightly, resting your forehead against his as he bent down to reach your height.

He smiled, his fingers tracing patterns on your back. "I’m glad you enjoyed it," he replied softly. "Are you sure you can’t come over to mine tonight?" You shook your head carefully as Luke’s lips downturned.

“I promised Nico a family only night,” you explained, as Luke tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Between hockey and everything else, it’s been a while.”

"I love you," you said, the words coming out effortlessly, as you leaned into him, savoring the moment. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble of happiness.

"I love you too," Luke’s voice was filled with sincerity, his warm eyes softening.

The door to the apartment swung open revealing a disgruntled Nico.

“And I love it when you don’t linger outside,” He huffed, “I can already hear the complaints from the neighbours about inappropriate touching in the hallway.”

“Nico!” You laughed out, your hand covering your mouth as you glanced between your boyfriend and brother.

It’s not like your brother disliked Luke, that wasn’t the issue. Nico simply enjoyed his role as the protective older brother, and his gruff exterior was just part of his charm. Luke chuckled, his arm still securely around you as he looked over at Nico.

"Sorry, man," Luke apologised with a grin. "Just saying goodbye."

"Yeah, yeah,” Nico rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He turned his gaze to you. “Just get her inside before you guys freeze out there."

“I’ll be in, in a second,” you hummed, watching as Nico slowly nodded and closed the door. You waited for the click of the door before chuckling and facing your boyfriend once again.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Luke ducked his head to look you in the eyes, his hand faltering on your waist for a moment longer. "Text me when you can."

"I will," You nodded, giving him one last kiss before he reluctantly let you go. “Night, Luke."

"Night sweet girl," he replied, his eyes lingering on you before he turned and walked back down the hallway.

2. the team night out

As a team, the Devils didn’t often get to go out where everyone could attend, this night, however, was the exception. Every player and significant other was in attendance in a small bar they’d cordoned off just for the team night out.

You sat at a table beside your brother, laughing away at something his teammates were saying. Music filtered through the air and happiness wove in and out of every conversation floating around.

Luke and Jack were running late, per usual. It was nearing an hour into the night and they’d only just pulled up outside the bar. Luke was antsy as he ran a hand through his hair and smoothed down his shirt for the umpteenth time. Jack slapped him on the back with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Relax, man,” He shook his head knowingly. “She’s not going anywhere.” Luke shot his brother a glare as they exited the car.

“I know, I know. It’s just…” he huffed as he shoved his hands in his pockets nervously. “I haven’t seen her in almost a week because of away games.”

Jack rolled his eyes in his typical good-nature as they walked through the entrance and into the bar. The room was buzzing with the team's energy, laughter echoing off the walls, and glasses clinking in toasts. Luke’s spared not a single second as he instantly began to look around the room in search for you.

His eyes continued to scan the crowd until they eventually landed on you at your table. You were seated beside Nico, your face alight with a pure joy, whilst you engaged in animated conversation with your brother and a few of his teammates.

Luke's heart skipped a beat. No matter how many times he saw you, the sight of your smile, the smile he adored, always had a way of grounding him, filling him with the feeling that he was the luckiest guy in the world.

“I’m going to go say hi to the team and get some drinks,” Jack called over his shoulder as he passed by, heading towards the table you’d abandoned with a knowing smirk.

You were mid-laugh when you inevitably spotted your boyfriend in the crowd. Your smile had immediately widened, and you found yourself quickly excusing yourself from the conversation, rising from your seat to meet him. Luke's eyes followed you as you approached, his pace quickening to meet you halfway.

“Hey,” you spoke softly as you reached him, the noise of the bar fading into background noise, your sole focus being your boy.

“Hey,” he echoed, his arms pulling you into a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to reach as you cling onto him. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his warmth and familiarity.

“How’s the night been?” Luke asked, his voice low and only for you to hear as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands resting lightly on your hips.

“Good,” you replied, your eyes shining as you combed through the curls at the back of his neck. “Better now that you’re here, I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”

“I would never leave you alone with these idiots,” Luke smiled through a laugh as he leaned down to give you a quick, sweet kiss which you gladly reciprocated.

As this entire exchange occurred, Jack had plopped down in the seat you’d once sat in beside Nico who was watching his youngest sister with hawk eyes, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Dude, you have to lighten up,” Jack drawled, tilting his head towards the captain. His eyes flickered towards you and Luke who were immersed in their own little bubble. The world seemed to not exist when you two were in each other’s orbit.

“She’s his baby sister and Luke is Luke,” Lazar cut in, placing his round of drinks in front of the table. His teasing voice caused a few of the people at the table to stifle their laughter. “Lightening up isn’t possible.”

“They’ve been dating for almost eight months,” Jack argued, “they’re good together, I mean look at them.”

All eyes fell on you and Luke as he pulled away from kissing you, a beaming grin plastered across of your face as he softly smiled and listened to you speaking.

“You have to admit that they’re happy, Cap,” Marino reckoned, his head turning to face a grumbling Nico.

Nico sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know, I know," he admitted, his voice carrying a hint of resignation. "It's just... she's my little sister, you know? I can't help but worry."

"We all get it, man.” Jack clapped a hand on Nico's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “But Luke’s a good guy. He cares about her a lot. She’s in good hands."

Nico nodded, though the protective brother in him wasn’t entirely convinced.

Luke and you oblivious to the tables conversation, made your way back to it, your hands still intertwined. The moment you sat down, he kept his arm around your shoulder, his thumb gently caressing your skin in absentminded circles as you instinctively leaned into him.

“Hey, everyone,” you greeted, your smile lingering son your face. “Sorry for disappearing.”

“No worries,” Mercer answered with a grin. “We know you had important business to attend to.” Laughter rippled through the group, easing any tension remaining.

3. acceptance

“I’m going on a run,” Nico announced, adjusting his headphone as he walked out into the living room of the apartment. You looked over your shoulder at your brother, who had yet to look up from his phone.

“Have fun,” you chirped, a stifled chuckle caused Nico’s head to dart you. You were curled up on the couch, engulfed in an oversized hoodie with Luke’s arm draped over your shoulders as the two of you watched a movie.

“I didn’t realise Luke was here,” Nico awkwardly scratched his head as he glanced between you and your boyfriend.

“He only came over five minutes ago,” you explained, entangling your hand with Luke’s.

“Oh, okay,” Nico inwardly cringed at the awkwardness and popped in his other headphone. “Well, I’ll be back in a hour or so.”

With a quick nod, Nico jogged out the door, leaving you and Luke to the quiet of the living room. The movie droned on, a soothing background hum as you leaned into Luke's shoulder, his warmth cocooning you. You felt your eyes grow heavy, the dreariness of the day pressing down, lulling you into a peaceful haze.

Luke shifted slightly, pulling you closer, and you glanced up to see a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Comfortable?" he murmured, his voice gentle rumbling against your temple.

"Very," you whispered back as your fingers traced idle patterns on his arm. "I could fall asleep."

"Then do," he encouraged, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. "I'll keep watch."

“How chivalrous,” You let out a soft laugh, the sound mingling with the faint dialogue from the screen. "But, we both know you’ll nap too.”

"Maybe so, but I’m just doing my duty, sweet girl," he joked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. It only took a few moments for the rhythmic rise and fall of Luke's chest beneath your cheek to be the last thing you registered before sleep fell upon you, drifting off in peace.

—

Nico returned from his run an hour after he initially left, a light sheen of sweat on his brow and a flushed red face. He quietly entered the apartment, turning off his music and heading towards the kitchen to grab some water.

As he walked deeper into the apartment, he noticed the darkness shrouding it, all apart from the soft glow of the TV. He paused in the doorway, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. A small smile tugged at his lips as he noticed you lying atop of a sleeping Luke, the two of you holding hands as you remained fast asleep on the couch. Luke’s other arm held you close, grasping you as if you were his most treasured belonging.

Quietly, Nico sighed and grabbed a blanket from the closet and gently draped it over you and Luke.

He turned off the TV, plunging the room into further darkness, and made his way to his room. As he closed the door behind him, he couldn't help but feel something settle in his chest.

It was nice to see you happy and if Luke was the source, then who was he to deny you it.

uh oh | luke hughes

luke hughes x lazar!reader

you're trying to sneak out your boyfriend but their is one thing standing in your way, Curtis.

my masterlist!

You're not sure how all of this happened, but all you know is that you were trying to get your boyfriend out of your brother's house before morning skate.

You tiptoe through the dimly lit hallway, every creak in the floorboard causing your heart to race. The morning sun filters through the curtains, you glance back at Luke who’s following your lead, trying to make as little noise as possible.

You grab Luke's hand, tugging him down the stairs, his hair messy and wearing last night's clothing that was scattered around your bedroom floor. You hear Curtis's bedroom door shutting. You turn to Luke, whose eyes are wide. He motions for you to go upstairs. You and he quickly and quietly make your way back upstairs.

You shut your bedroom door behind you, closing your eyes in relief. When you open them, you find Luke staring at you, a sly boyish grin on his face. "I feel like I'm 16 again," he jokes, pressing himself against you and placing soft kisses all over your face and neck.

You push him away playfully. "You didn't get any play when you were 16," you tease.

He lets out a huff, pulling you in for a kiss. It's sweet, his hands dancing around your back, but it becomes more needy. Then you hear a knock. "Hey, sissy, I'm gonna get going," Curtis calls out.

Your voice is hoarse as you reply, "Okay, Curt, see you later." You feel Luke's breath fanning against your cheek as he presses harder into you, trying to stay hidden.

"Hey, are you okay?" Curtis asks, and you see the door handle beginning to twist.

Luke slams you against the door, pressing harder into you if possible. "Curt, I'm changing, give me a second," you call out, and the door handle stops twisting.

Luke stands in the middle of your room awkwardly. You push him into your closet, giving him one last peck on the lips before closing the door.

You grab your robe, wrapping it around your body, and open the door. Curtis steps in, his expression concerned. "You feeling alright? You sounded a little nasally," he says, placing a hand on your forehead to check your temperature.

"And your lips are looking pinker than usual," he presses on, his eyes narrowing slightly. Your cheeks flush, flashes of the night before still in your memory.

You can almost see the face Luke is making inside the closet, trying to stay quiet and unseen.

"I'm fine, Curtis," you say, trying to sound nonchalant. "Just a bit tired."

Curtis frowns, still not entirely convinced. "Alright, if you say so. Just make sure you get some rest. And drink plenty of water."

"I will, thanks," you reply, ushering him out of the room as quickly as you can without seeming too eager.

Once Curtis is finally gone, you open the closet door. Luke stumbles out, looking both amused and relieved. "That was close," he whispers.

"Too close," you agree, shaking your head. "We need to be more careful."

Luke nods, pulling you into a hug. "Definitely. But it was kind of fun, sneaking around like that."

You laugh softly, leaning into his embrace. "Yeah, it was. But next time, let's avoid getting rocked by my brother."

"Deal," Luke says with a grin, kissing the top of your head.

The two of you quickly get dressed, fixing his wrinkled shirt you say, "Alright, you should get going before Curtis gets suspicious. Where did you park?" you ask, giving Luke a quick peck on the lips.

Luke pulls his keys out of his pocket. "Around back. Why?"

Your eyes widen. "Curtis takes the trash out today," you remind him. Luke's jaw drops slightly, and his gaze shifts to your window. Without hesitation, he opens it. "It's not that far down," he reassures you.

You stare at him bewildered. "So, are you just gonna stand there and not kiss me goodbye if I die?" he asks with a smirk.

You roll your eyes playfully and give him a chaste kiss. Closing the window behind him, Luke gives you a wink before climbing out and jumping down. You watch as he tumbles through the grass but quickly gets up, giving you a thumbs up.

"Dork," you giggle, shaking your head fondly.

Luke dusts himself off and heads around the house to where he parked. You stay by the window for a moment, watching him disappear from view before letting out a sigh of relief.

-

At morning skate, Luke is in the locker room changing into his gear. The room is filled with the usual chatter and chirps, but it doesn't take long for his sharp-eyed teammates to notice a few things.

"Hey, Lukey," Jack calls out, smirking. "What happened to your neck? Looks like you've been attacked by a vampire."

He knew Luke was sneaking out to meet someone, he just didn't know it was you, yet.

Luke tries to play it cool, tugging at his collar to hide the faint love bites scattered around his neck and chest. "Oh, you know, just an overly enthusiastic mosquito," he jokes, but his attempt at nonchalance only draws more attention.

"Yeah, right," Timo chirps. "Must be some mosquito."

As Luke continues to change, pulling on his practice jersey, Dawson, points out something else. "Hey, man, nice socks. Didn't know you were into... strawberries?"

Luke looks down, realizing too late that he's wearing your themed strawberry socks. He quickly tugs his hockey socks over them, but the damage is done. The locker room erupts in laughter and playful teasing.

"Nice touch, Luke," Jack adds, nudging Curtis. "You see those socks? They look like something your sister would wear."

Curtis, who had been lacing up his skates, glances over at Luke's feet. His eyes narrow slightly as he takes in the strawberry socks peeking out from under Luke's gear. A moment of realization crosses his face.

"Wait a minute," Curtis says slowly, his gaze shifting from the socks to Luke's face. "Are those... my sister's socks?"

The locker room falls silent, all eyes on Luke. He freezes, unsure of how to respond. His mind races for an excuse, but nothing comes to mind.

Curtis stands up, his expression a mix of confusion and dawning comprehension. "Luke," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Why are you wearing my sister's socks? And why do you have those marks on your neck?"

Luke swallows hard, realizing there's no easy way out of this. "Curtis, I can explain," he starts, but Curtis holds up a hand to stop him.

"Save it," Curtis snaps. "I think I just figured it out."

The room is tense, everyone waiting to see what Curtis will do next. He takes a step closer to Luke, his eyes hard. "You and my sister? Really?"

Luke nods, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, we've been seeing each other."

Curtis's jaw clenches, but then he surprises everyone by letting out a long sigh. "Out of everyone on this team, she chose you," Curtis says, unable to resist a teasing jab at his teammate. "You gotta be kidding me. I gotta deal with you at home now too. You better take care of her, man, or else you're gonna go flying into a wall."

Luke nods earnestly. "I promise, Curtis. I care about her a lot."

Curtis studies him for a moment longer before finally stepping back. "Alright. But I'm watching you."

The tension in the room eases, other teammates exchanging relieved glances. Practice goes on, but the dynamics have shifted. Luke feels the weight of Curtis's gaze on him, but he also feels a sense of relief. The secret is out, and now, you guys can move on without sneaking around.

As they pile into the locker room, Luke walks over to Curtis. "Thanks for understanding," he says sincerely.

Curtis nods, his expression softening slightly. "Just remember what I said. And maybe next time, don't wear her socks."

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬 - 𝐫𝐲𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐝

☄. *. ⋆ synopsis: 4 times ryan's friend wouldn't leave the two of you alone, and the one time they did

☄. *. ⋆ warning: slight swearing, not proofread

☄. *. ⋆ disclaimer: this is my first time writing a 3+1 type of fic, so if it's shitty sorry

☄. *. ⋆ wc: 2.5k

ONE

ryan grinned as he walked into a small cafe right off the edge of campus, spoting you right away in the same corner as always. he had just gotten out of his only class for the day, and he could not wait to hold you in his arm again.

"hi, baby." he mumbled with a smile as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. you looked up from your book at his presence, a smile of your own appearing.

"hi, bubba." you smiled as he sat down next to you, letting one of his arm fall to the back of your chair. you leaned your head onto his shoulder as a reflex, hanging him his coffee. "how was class?"

"teacher made gabe improv in front of everyone, you really missed something, babe." your boyfriend laughed as he let his eyes drift to your notebook in front of you. "exam soon?" he questioned, he knew you only took color coded notes when you had an exam approaching.

"monday at like 8:30." you groaned, closing your books so all your attention was on the freckled man next to you. "i'm dreading it already."

"you're gonna do great, like always, love." he whispered, placing a kiss against your temple. you lifted your head from his shoulder, looking up at him with a smile before pressing a peck to his lips.

"okay, yuck." you heard someone exclaim from behind you, making you and ryan pull apart. your eyes fell into a couple of his teammates taking seats next to ryan.

"what do you want?" your boyfriend asked, pulling you a little closer to his side as one of your hands fell onto his thigh.

"that's no way to talk to your friends, leno." will smirked as he patted the boy on the back.

"dude, seriously, we're a bit busy here." ryan said through gritted teeth. his teammates just looked at him with innocent looks, making ryan a little angry.

"it's fine. i need to go to class anyways. i'll see you late, ry. bye, boys." you said, placing a hand on ryan's thigh, hoping it would calm him down, before packing your bag and making your way out the door.

once ryan was sure you were gone, he smacked his best friends behind the head, making all of them groan.

"you guys are the worst."

"what'd we do?" gabe knew he was pushing the limit, but he had never seen his best friend act like this because of a girl before. they all found it so cute how ryan was such a menace on the ice, getting in everyone's faces, always being in the middle of a scum, but he was always so gentle with you.

"we've barely spent time together because of hockey, and the one minute we get alone you guys just have to show up?" ryan mumbled underneath his breath as he started standing up from his spot.

"come on, leno. we're just messing with you." aram said, which only worsened the freckled boy's mood.

"i'm leaving."

TWO

you threw your head back, laughing at a story ryan was telling you about one of his classes this week. it was monday night, meaning date night. the two of you were currently sitting in a movie theater, waiting for the movie to start. you each had your own drinks, but shared the same popcorn, mainly because ryan insisted on it.

ryan had been away for the weekend because of hockey, meaning the two of you had barely seen each other in the last five days. of course, you always face timed or texted whenever you could, but nothing compared to spending quality one on one time with each other.

"i missed you." ryan mumbled, throwing his arm around you shoulder and bringing you close to his side. you smiled up at him before pressing your lips to his cheek.

"missed you more, ry." you answered with a smile and ryan leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. there were maybe three other groups in the room with you, a family of four, an old couple, and a group of friends about your age. it was pretty silent, only for the small whispers within the groups.

you and ryan were in your own little world, you sat in the back corner of the room, everyone else choosing the middle of the room to sit. no one around the two, truly having being able to just focus on each other.

of course, all of that quickly ended when almost all of ryan's team walked into the theater, their eyes obviously looking for the two of you. they quickly made their way over to the two of you once the captain spotted you.

"i'm gonna kill them one day." ryan let out a frustrated sigh. he had made it very clear that tonight was only for you and him, granted he made the mistake of telling the guys which movie you were going to watch, where, and at what time.

"let me know when you wanna do it." you mumbled as the guys started sitting around you.

"hi guys!" will said sitting behind the two of you and reaching for the popcorn between your bodies.

"no." ryan was quickly to pull the bag away from his friends reach, making the blond frown.

"that's not nice." gabe intervened from besides the blond boy.

"why do you guys always have to just ruin everything? i told you it was just me and y/n tonight."

"are we not allowed to come enjoy a movie as a team, ryan?" drew said from besides the boy.

"you couldn't have picked any other movie? it had to be this one? at this cinema, seriously?"

"it's a very popular cinema, ryan." cutter said, smirking at his teammate. you rolled you eyes, your boyfriend doing the same, before shushing the boy since the lights were starting to dim.

thankfully, the boys were quiet while watching the movie, which surprised you a lot, well for the most part. they would whisper between each other whenever one of them did not understand what had just happened in the movie, and of course had little reactions every time the two of you interacted. some of them even going as far as gagging whenever you leaned your head on his shoulder.

"where're you guys going?" will asked as you and ryan quickly left the movie theater once the movie ended.

"far away from you guys." ryan said harshly before quickly hurrying the two of you out of the cinema, and quickly making your way to his car, where he was fast to drive off in the direction of your dorm.

THREE

you cheered loudly as your roommate scored yet another goal, ryan cheering as well from besides you. the two of you were among few in the crowd for the women's lacrosse game, the only other people in the stands being family and friends of the players.

you had came to almost every game this year, always ready to support your roommate, and now best friend. ryan had started coming along after the two of you dated, the games being another way the two of you could be alone.

the two of you should have figured that these games alone would not last long once the guy realized the two of you disappeared every time there was a game, but you choose to ignore it. probably one of the reasons why you were both so frustrated when some of ryan's teammates joined the two of you in the stands.

"seriously?" ryan called out, dropping down to his seat, a slightly frown on his face.

"are we not allowed to come cheer on our school?" drew said with an innocent smile.

"and you had to do it here?" you spoke out, shocking the guys a little. ryan was always the one who protested, never you. you always just stayed quiet, not wanting to say things you would later regret, but you had enough.

"wh--"

"i mean seriously? you guys never come to these games, but since we do, you guys wanna start coming too? you never go to the movies, but when we do, you suddenly want to as well? do you not have anything better to do in your lives than bothering us? it's pathetic." you said, anger filling your veins, before grabbing your bag and making your way to the bathroom, leaving all the guys dumbfounded, even your own boyfriend.

"shes' right, ya know. you guys are annoying. it was funny the first couple of times, but you're taking it too far. i mean, we barely get to spend time together, and when we do you guys just have to ruin it all the time. sometimes she doesn't even want to hangout with me because she knows you guys are just gonna show up and ruin everything. so, please, just leave us alone." ryan said, before getting up and following after you.

your boyfriend walked around the stadium for a bit, before eventually hearing some sniffles coming from one of the bathrooms. "Y/N?"

"in here." you confirmed, and ryan was quick to make his way inside, he did not care if there was anyone else in there, he needed to make sure his girl was okay. "oh, baby." he whispered when he saw a tear rolling down your cheek, quickly bringing you into his chest.

"i'm so tired of them, ry." you whispered into his chest, letting out a sigh of frustration.

"i know, hons, me too." he said softly, one hand rubbing down your back while the other landed on the top of your head, softly combing through your hair.

"i'm sorry i snapped at them like that." you said after a couple of minutes of silent, the two of you just holding onto each other. this was probably the longest the two of you had been able to hug each other for weeks without any of the guys interrupting.

"don't be, y/n. they're assholes... and it was hot. very hot." he giggled, making you look up at him only to see him smirking down at you. you knew that look all too well, making you roll your eyes.

"ryan." you warned him, smiling slightly, which only made his smirk grown bigger. the two of you had not been able to be intimate with each other in a long time, and after all, ryan was just a teenage boy.

"your rooms empty." he whispered, bring his lips down to yours. you took a deep shaky breath, trying your best to control yourself. "and the game's not even half way done." he added, letting both of his hands fall lower and lower on your back.

"promised the girls i'd meet up with them after." you mumbled as ryan attached his lips to your neck. you had grown close to the other freshman on the lacrosse team, finding your own little friend group.

"they'll understand, baby." he whispered against your neck as he brought your bodies even closer together. you were about to say something when his phone started ringing loudly from his front pocket, making him groan into your neck.

"what?" he grumbled as he answered the phone, making you let out a sigh. "no, i don't want to go to dinner with you guys. i don't care, will. well, tell eamon that i can't make it. then, i'll do suicides, i don't care. whatever, bye." he argued before letting out yet another groan as he hung up the phone.

"what was that about?"

"stupid team dinner or whatever, i'm not going."

"ryan." you said sternly. you had made it very clear throughout your relationship that missing team events to hangout with you was not something you were okay with.

"it's not an official one, babe. the coaches aren't gonna be there, they don't even know it's happening! eamon can't expect all of us to just stop our lives to go to dinner with him. someone of us have more important people to go on dates with." he said, his voice going from angry to soft at the end.

"you're an idiot."

"you love it."

"mm, i do." you smiled before finally connecting your lips together.

FOUR

"hide." ryan whispered loudly, hiding his face with the menu in his hands.

"what?"

"the guys are here!"

"what?" you exclaimed before turning around to the door, quickly spotting a small group of hockey players. some of them were quick to spot the two of you, smiling before following their host. "you'd tell them we were coming here?"

"no! i picked a different restaurant just so they wouldn't know where we are!" ryan said, quickly looking at his friends before hiding behind his menu again.

"ryan, idiot, they already saw you, there's no point in hiding." you said, grabbing the menu from his hands.

"oh." he said before the two of you looked over at them again. you saw a couple of them about to get up, before someone of the freshman said something, quickly making all of them sit back down. the next second, ryan's phone dinged, a message from jacob appearing on his screen.

sorry, though you guys would be going to the same place as always. we won't bother you, enjoy your night

your boyfriend read the message out loud, shocking the two of you slightly. you both looked over at them again, only to find none of them looking over at you, instead focused on the menus. then, ryan's phone rang again.

also i think drew's scared of y/n now

ryan laughed as he read the message in his head, before turning his phone so you could see it. you giggle slightly, a small blush taking over your face.

"i guess we're both menaces now." ryan smiled, making yours drops.

"absolutely not." you gasped, making your boyfriend laugh out loud. surprisingly, the boys kept their, leaving the two of you alone for the whole night. but not without sneaking a couple of pictures of the two of you, which they later sent to ryan. they did not even bother the two of you when you walked near their table to leave the restaurant, none of them even looking up at the two of you.

when the two of you made it back to his dorm, you talked for almost an hour at how you could not believe they had somehow managed the be in the same room as the two of you and not bother you guys. it felt great, it truly did, to finally have some time alone with ryan, some real quality time where all you had to focus on was each other.

and you were soon very thankful that found out it would not be the only time the two of you would be left alone. of course, the guys still popped out every now and then, but if one of you ever gave them a look, they'd be gone the next second. especially if they came from you.

consequences masterpost

cover made using @art-and-the-hockeys​ amazing wallpapers!! go check them out <3

summary:  you absolutely hate Matthew Tkachuk so it’s just your luck when you wind up pregnant with his child.

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

part 6

part 7

part 8

epilogue

Outtakes: the proposal, another one, instagram edit 1

instagram edit 2, instagram edit 3