Uh Oh | Luke Hughes

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."

Will you go to prom with me?

matt rempe x college!student reader, friends to lovers

warnings : the fluffiest fluff to have ever fluffed for 7.5k words

an : in honor of the rangers playing their game 1 of the 2nd round, i’ve been writing this for the past week and omggggg there must be so many mistakes in it but im so happy with it it’s so cute. idk about the rangers wives and stuff so christine is obviously made up sorryyyy

How did you get so lucky ?

Matthew gave you a ticket for tonight’s game and made you promise to stay after the game to wait for him.

You have gone to see his debut at the stadium series and this was his second game so you would have gone to see him play even if he hadn’t gotten you a ticket.

The two of you met when he was first invited to the Rangers summer camp. You were having a picnic with friends in Central Park on a hot summer evening. Matt was playing football with his friends not far from you and when the ball fell near you he ran up to get it.

The first time he just excused himself then went back to his game. But the second time his friend threw the ball your way intentionally you asked him if they wanted to eat something but you weren’t going to finish all the food you brought by yourselves.

It took all your courage to ask the tall cute guy that question. Especially because he was cute. Your friends had teased you for blushing the first time he came to get his ball and to defend your dignity you had to show them he didn’t affect you that much and you could be chill around tall attractive guys.

That improvised picnic turned into an ice cream date the next afternoon as you bonded over the fact that you were both foreigners in the US. Then that turned into another museum date, and a shopping date when he asked you for help to find his sister a present.

Superficial conversation turned into long conversations deep into the night so naturally.

Yet he had never tried to kiss you. You wanted to think those dates were really dates and that he felt the same way you did. But he never expressed any further interest into you so you settled for his friendship. You knew he would leave after the training camp to go back to Calgary and you would leave too to go back home.

When he came back for the second time for the training camp, you had already left New York. He had texted you that he was in town again and asked if you wanted to go get ice cream with him. You wanted to smash your head against a wall for leaving a week too early and missing him. But he promised that he would try to go to New York before the start of the season so you could catch up together.

After that first catch up in New York, you also went to Hartford for a weekend a few times when you didn’t have too many assignments.

You surprised him once by coming to a practice and staying for his game. Some of your friends teased you that you were head over heels for him and you “really wanted to get that d” in the words of your best friend but you never made any attempt at flirting and neither did he.

However now, he played in New York, for the Rangers and you couldn’t be any prouder of him. He had texted you that he was called up to play for them for the stadium series and you told him that you already got tickets with friends to go see the match. You missed your morning class to get breakfast with him before the game and congratulate him.

So you are now waiting awkwardly by the VIP entrance because he didn’t get you a special pass since he didn’t dare ask for it and you have no idea where the locker room is in this place. You check your phone from time to time to see if Matt has texted you but you just assume that he’s still busy.

At some point, a security guard approaches you and asks what you’re waiting for. You’re about to answer him and you hear a voice answering in your stead.

“For me. She’s waiting for me. But thanks for taking care of her.” He’s always been kinda hot, but that sentence? The messy post game hair? The sweaty look and slightly tired eyes?

You thank the security guard and walk towards Matt with a big smile on your face. “Congrats on your second game and second win champ. Looks like you’re this team’s lucky charm.” You give him a hug when you reach him and he keeps his arm around your shoulder not letting you go.

“Hmm no I think it’s you. You’ve been for every win too.” He winks at you.

“When did you get this cheesy?”, you tease.

“Winning makes me emotional.”

You aww at his honest response and jokingly tickle him. But you love how he’s not afraid to show his emotions in front of you and you cherish that.

“So.. we won… Do you know what that means?”, he asks with an amused look in his eyes.

“Free and good food?”, you inquire hopefully, batting your lashes at him to go overboard with it.

“Better. Free drinks !! I wanted you to come celebrate with us. I got out the looker room as soon as I could to not make you wait and have some time to convince you. The guys are ready to go.”

“It’s a wednesday night.”

“Perfect night to go out the bars are less crowded.”

“Matt I have classes tomorrow.”

He has a resolute look on his face and you know you’ve lost the argument here. “I’ll bring you back to your dorm by midnight.”

You admit defeat by nodding your head yes and he pumps his fist in an overly exaggerated way. Then he puts his arm back around your shoulder and drags you towards the exit.

“Schneider knows a nice place not far from here apparently.”, he informs you.

“You’re new best bud?”

“I would never dream of replacing you”, he says with a funny smirk.

When you walk out of the building you’re met with huge, impressive hockey players and their beautiful significant others. You smile politely and wave your hand when Matt introduces you but nobody pays you too much attention as everybody is eager to get to drinking.

The bar you get to is nice, not too big but still pretty loud and the players overjoyed from their win only make it louder.

You sit squeezed in between Matt and one of the girlfriends. She doesn’t particularly pay you attention except when she asked you who you are and how you met Matt.

When Matt leaves to get you a drink at the bar, Chytil’s girlfriend approaches you and introduces herself.

“So have you and Matt been together for a long time ?” Luckily, the lighting is bad and she can’t see you blush at her question.

“We’re just really good friends”, you answer her after a beat.

“Oh sorry, my bad.. It’s just that usually guys don’t bring such beautiful friends to bars when they try to find other girls to hook up with”, she explains jokingly and you try not to get such thoughts into your head.

“First of all it’s so nice of you to call me pretty. And no honestly i’m really supportive of him trying to hook up with girls if he wants to. He just promised to get me back to my dorm before midnight so he’ll probably have to do that afterwards.” She laughs at your words a bit too much and you laugh awkwardly as well, confused look on your face. Until she looks behind you and you understand.

“Always knew I could count on you to be my wingwoman” You turn around at Matt’s voice, the awkward smile still on your face. “And here’s your cosmopolitan.”

“I'm not even sure you need a wingwoman now that you’re in the NHL.”

“That’s not something we are going to test tonight because i’m here to celebrate with you and not some random girl.” He grins at you.

You spend the rest of the evening dancing and drinking your cocktails with Matt acting as the best body guard to ever exist on the dance floor. It’s not often that you don’t have any weirdo trying to approach you but having a 6’7 guy built like a refrigerator definitely helps so you can enjoy the music and just dance. Maybe you should go to the club with him more often.

You don’t leave before midnight as promised. It’s closer to 1am when you bid goodbye to Chytil’s girlfriend. She asks you if she will see you around more and you promise her to attend the next game.

When you’re outside the uber is already waiting for you and you get in with Matt still talking and laughing.

He then walks you up to your door and you turn around before opening. “So now you know where I leave”

“Yes this was my plan all along now I know where to come to steal the most comfortable blankets”, he says with a smirk

“I knew you were evil. You can’t be tall, hot and ambitious without something hiding under the surface.” Did you just call him hot ? You can blame it on the alcohol even if it was only 3 cocktails.

“Obviously. Now go get some good sleep and drink a glass of water.” He turns around to leave “Good night”

You yell after him “Drink some water too big boy” you giggle to yourself and cover your mouth aware of how loud you just were.

The next morning you have a mild migraine but it hits you when you are brushing your teeth a song from last night playing on your phone.

The reason no guy approached you last night was because Matt always had his hand on you, your hand, your hip, your waist. It was just so natural to have him that close you didn’t even notice in the moment.

——

Almost a week later, as you sit on your bed, music playing on your speaker because your roommate is out, you hear a loud repeated bang on your door.

You jump out of bed, turn off the music and run to the door. “Who’s there?”, you ask warily.

“Open up the door you deaf dumbass”

“Great to see you too my sugar plum”, you stick your tongue out to Matt when opening the door.

He walks right past you into your dorm room and sets a bag on your desk. “I brought us snacks and video games.”

“You know I don’t have anything to play video games on right?”, you look at him eyebrows raised, hands on your hips.

“That's why I brought my Xbox in my backpack?” He starts unpacking his stuff and setting up his gaming corner. Luckily you had a small TV you and your roommate chipped in together to buy.

“Make yourself at home I guess… I also hope you’re aware I won’t be playing with you I have to finish this essay for tomorrow morning.”

“I know. You said that you had to finish it tonight. I just thought it would be more fun to have company. And I haven’t seen you because of the roadie.” You smile at his logic. It’s non arguable. You would rather do anything and everything with him around than without him. And you missed him too.

Once he’s done setting it up, he sits at the end of your bed and looks at you expectantly. “I won’t be noisy I promise. Now can you bring the snacks?”

You smile like an idiot again, hand him the snacks and get back to your previous position in your bed.

He takes your feet on his lap and starts his game. Without even looking your way, he pushes the bag of your favorite candies towards you.

You sight contemptuously, a small smile adorning your face. This was so comfortable. A little too cozy for you to just see him as a friend.

Around 1am, you finish your assignment and Matt is already asleep at the feet of your bed. You lightly tap his shoulder and tell him to get under the covers because it’s too late for him to go home.

Still sleepy, he takes off his hoodie and gets comfortable while you go to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Then you get back to bed and try falling asleep but you are far too aware of his tall presence right next to you.

He is fast asleep when he sneaks one of his arms around you. Your bed isn’t large enough for you not to touch anyway so you decide to enjoy his warm, comforting cuddles and fall asleep much faster now that you’re not stressing over it.

When you wake up for your class in the morning, Matthew has already left for practice.

——

The game against the Devils has been brutal. You couldn’t attend but you were watching on your phone while at the library. You try to get done as much as you can before leaving the library and going to your closest 24/7 store.

You are ready to go around the whole city. You have a mission in mind and you will accomplish it : finding a Lego set (and food of course).

Luckily you only have to try two convenience stores before finding a good enough set. You also grab some snacks and head to Matt’s apartment.

You are already waiting in the lobby of his apartment building when he comes in.

He looks nasty and you can’t help but cringe.

He drops his bag on the floor when he’s near and wraps his arms around you. For a while, you just remain like that, hugging, passing your fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him.

“You wanna go up? I got us lego sets to build”, you ask in a small voice. He nods and pulls away without meeting your gaze.

You haven’t seen him since his huge fight in Toronto so the black eye is shocking at first. And now he’s been suspended for four games. You know that even if he likes causing chaos, he likes the game more.

You silently follow him up to his apartment. It’s a small studio, nothing crazy but it’s cozy and it’s clean.

You set your bags near the couch and go to the kitchen to look for something to cook dinner with. In the meantime, Matt gets another cold shower and changes into a pair of sweats.

When he comes out of his room, wet hair falling across his eyes, his t-shirt half up, your breath catches in your throat. Your gaze moves downwards and then you catch a glimpse of the bruises on his side as he finishes putting his shirt on.

“I left clothes for you on my bed if you wanna change into something more comfortable. I looked for the smallest sweatpants but hoodie might be just enough.”

He walks up to you and smells around, “What you’re cooking there?”

“Mac and cheese. Didn’t have too much choice” A pleasant smile appears on his face. “I can finish it, go get comfortable.”

He nudges you lightly so you let him take over and go to take a shower and change.

You had stayed at his place in Hartford the last two times you went up there. But this was different. You had always brought your own clothes and you would eat out with his friends before coming and crashing on his couch before leaving the next morning.

Now you are changing into his clothes, and as he said the hoodie almost reaches your knee so you don’t bother with trying on the pants. It smells of him and you try not to be weird about it but it brings you such a sense of comfort you can’t help but wrap your arms around yourself.

When you walk back into the open kitchen Matt is done with the Mac n cheese and getting the table ready.

“You can sit down. I’ll be ready in a minute.”

You listen to him and sit down and a few moments later so does he. You eat in silence until he asks you about your day.

You don’t want to press him about anything or upset him so you just go with his flow, letting him welcome you in when he’s ready.

When you’re done eating, it’s your turn to tell him to go get comfortable on the couch while you clean up the kitchen. Once you’re done you join him on the couch where he already started taking the legos out of their boxes.

You talk about your childhoods and how you used to play with legos and other toys, about your favorites and the ones you lost but just remembered how much you liked them.

When you finished the set, he put it on the shelf next to his TV and you both went to bed.

You insisted on sleeping on the couch to not bother him but he argued that he would.

Of course you wouldn’t let him, knowing the physical state he was in. So you agreed to both sleep in the bed.

Once you’re under the covers and the lights are off you can’t stop the words from falling out of your mouth as you turn towards him, “Does it hurt a lot?”

He turns around to face you too, “Where?”

It breaks your heart to hear him say this. Are there really so many hurtful part?

You slowly bring your hand to his abdomen under the covers. “Here?”

“I didn’t think you would see it”, he shuddered at your touch so you pull your hand back.

“I’m sorry”

“It’s okay.” your voices are no louder than a whisper.

“Can I hug you?”, there’s timidity in your voice that he has never heard before.

“Please”

You wrap your arms around him and press his head under your chin. You fall asleep in that position only a few minutes later.

——

Now, you are waiting for him by the north entrance after his game against Florida as he had asked you but you have no idea what to expect nor where he is taking you. It didn’t really matter anyway as you get to spend time with him.

He walks out the building wearing his suit, his bag slung over his shoulder.

“Congrats ! You played until the end” You laugh at him throwing your arms around his torso. God how you loved his hugs. It feels like being engulfed in the warmest cloud.

“And I got an assist”, he says pulling back from the hug and grinning at you.

Your smile widens as well as you crank your neck to look up at him “You did great champ!”

You pull away from his arms feeling yourself getting hungrier by the second. “Come one now take me to eat. You know cheering on you is such a physical activity.”

You catch sight of his crooked tie once you are completely out of his arms and reach to straighten it. “I changed as fast as I could so you wouldn’t have to wait long.” He explains looking down at you.

You can’t look up to meet his gaze, too busy trying to hide your blush.

When you’re done, you ask him to lead the way and he points to the left and tells you to follow him because “he knows a place”.

You walk for a few blocks until you’re in Times Square and then he stops.

“Matt don’t tell me you wanna play tourist right now. I swear I’m not kidding when I say I’m famished.” You look up at him with a pout.

He checks his watch, “Can you keep the whining down, I’m the one who’s paying for dinner, please?” He looks around at the billboard like he’s never seen them before.

“I’m hungry, come on let’s go I’ll pay for my meal if it’s what it takes.” You try to argue.

He stops turning around and you get in front of him to try and get his attention back on you. He checks his watch again. What is he waiting for?

“Matt the hell are you looking around for ? This is not your first time in Time Square. I hope the place you wanted to take me doesn’t close too soon…”

He looks behind you and his eyes light up. “This is where I wanted to take you.” He says grinning like a devil.

You want to ask what’s going on, mouth half open but he tells you to turn around so you do.

Mouth still hanging agape, the first thing your eyes lay on is a huge billboard with your name on it. And the question “Will you go to prom with me?”. You heart skips a beat there.

You’re speechless for a second and very confused when you turn back around to look at Matt. “What is this? What prom, Matt? Colleges don’t do proms and I’m in my senior year. What do you…”

He cuts you off seeing the frown on your face “You told me once that you never got to go to prom during high school. And I know how much you love those fancy dresses and dancing to 2000 music. I didn’t want you to feel sad again because you feel like you missed out on something.”

Oh you are so about to cry.

Tears are brimming your lashes already. Your stomach is doing somersaults.

“So will you go to prom with me? The one I organized just for us so you can’t really say no…” You hear the small quiver in his voice and how he slows down at the end. He is feeling unsure. It’s the sweetest thing ever.

The tears staining your face are happy ones so you nod your head vigorously, unable to speak because of the knot in your throat. A smile cracks its way onto your face and at the sight of it he leans down to hug you. You jump into his arms and wraps yours around his neck.

“I can’t believe you did this for me” You’re now sobbing into his shoulder, pushing your face into the crook of his neck to hide your tear stained, all red, face, from the crowd around you.

It feels like it’s just the two of you in the world. You don’t hear the crowd over your own beating heart anymore.

How did you get so lucky?

You want to tell him how much this means to you, how much he means to you. Yet it’s not the time to confess your feelings. You can’t ruin this moment with your selfish emotions when he’s done this for you as a friend. So you settle for thank yous.

“You’re the best, really.” You squeeze harder before trying to pull away but he still has you in his arms and your feet don’t even touch the ground.

Your faces are inches away, and you feel an itch you can’t quite scratch, because he’s not your boyfriend and kissing him could ruin all this.

“Thank you. Genuinely. I don’t know what I did to deserve you but you’re really the best Matt” You think he can probably feel your breath on his face. You hope he can’t hear your pulse this close. You hope you don’t smell of the beer you drank earlier at the game.

Oh no, you realise as he puts you down, your breath probably smells of the beer.

He shots the toothiest smile you’ve ever seen on him. “Good let’s go get you some food now.”

May the universe help your poor little heart, as you melt internally at his smile, words and actions.

——

You knew Matthew was a man of his word and if he said he would do it he will. But what you didn’t expect was for him to go so overboard with it.

A few days after his promposal, he texts you that after class you’re both going shopping the next day. He had called you after the game when they clinched the first spot and said that your fake prom would be before the playoffs.

He waits for you in front of your building, baseball cap sitting backwards on his head, two coffees in his hand.

Your heart skips a beat when you first catch sight of him, easy to notice him with such a height. You think you would recognise him even in the dark anyway, when everything in your body pulls you to him in the way it has done since you’ve met him.

He’s right here and so close and yet so out of reach because you can’t run up to him and kiss him like you would like to.

It has gotten harder to ignore your feelings since he started acting like the best boyfriend in the world while simultaneously not being your boyfriend.

You walk slowly to give yourself time to recompose yourself. He smiles broadly when he sees you too.

He doesn’t know how much he affects so you can’t blame him. He’s just being friendly, like he always was.

When you reach him, he hands you your cup of coffee then pulls you into his chest and your giggle gets muffled by his warm sweater.

He asks you about your day, your classes, why you’ve been up since he went away. He listens to your every word even though you’ve already told him all of this through texts.

You walk the streets of New York together until he stops in front of a dress shop.

“No, no, no Matt, I cant afford this.” You stop him before he walks inside, hand on his arm. “And ai’m not letting you pay for my dress. Just putting this out there hopefully before the thought even crosses your mind”

He takes your hand off his arms and wraps it with his. “Let’s just see what they have.”

He tugs you inside and you don’t have any other choice but to follow.

The shopping assistant greets you and after giving you a few minutes to look around she starts asking question about what you want, the type of event, the color preferences, the length.

Sure you had imagined the type of dress you would have worn if you ever got invited to prom when you were a teenager. But you were never invited by anyone and as you were starting to think about going alone your mom got very sick and you had to stay home while your dad went to work.

But asked this way on the spot you have no idea. You say blue for the colour. It’s you favourite one and Matt has a nice blue suit that could match.

The sales assistant picked out some dresses for you while you and Matt looked around. He made you promise to not look at the price until you’ve tried on all the dresses that you liked but you knew you wouldn’t be getting anything from here.

After going around the whole store, the sales assistant directed you to the back to try on the dresses. Struggling to tie up the dress, you peak your head outside the door to ask her for help but only see Matthew.

“She went to get you heels. Do you need help?” You nod, open the door wider as he gets closer and slowly turn around making sure the dress stays in place.

He gets on it with expert hands pulling the laces tight. “Tighter?” His voice is low, near your ear. It sends shivers down your spine.

You nod not trusting your voice just yet. You feel hot all over but you also shiver.

“Sorry my fingers are cold…”

He is almost done now so you want to break the awkward silence.

“You’re good at it.” Great remark, way to go.

“Yeah I helped my sister a few times.”

Did he just compare you to his sister? Amazing.

With perfect timing your sales assistant comes back with a pair of beautiful black heels. “Sorry for making you wait. Your boyfriend told me you shoe size but I had to find something that would match.”

So much for helping with the awkwardness…

“He um… we’re not um…” You tried articulating your thoughts pointing between you and Matt.

Instead of helping you, he looks at you with an amused look on his face then thanks the woman while taking the shoes from her.

“You can hold onto my shoulder.” He says kneeling down and setting the shoes on the ground in front of you. You lift your dress with one hand, grab his shoulder with the other one as he so kindly suggested, and then extend your foot to put the shoe on. He even helps you get the shoe on.

You were trying not to overthink his every move but it was impossible. Why is he acting this way all of a sudden ? Why didn’t he tell the sales assistant that you were just friends ? Why ..?

Your thoughts are cut off when Matthew stands up and you lose your balance and almost fall.

He extends an arm to catch but you stop him with your hand and a chuckle.

He steps back and he and the sales assistant both look at you. You start feeling flustered so you turn around to look for a mirror.

As you walk over to it, you can feel Matt’s gaze on your black, and the ghosts of his fingertips on your skin.

The dress looks beautiful but something is not right. It’s a bit too over the top and you just don’t feel it. Matthew sees it in your eyes when you look at him through the mirror.

You change into the second dress but you don’t like how it looks around your chest so you don’t even get out of the dressing room.

The third one was beautiful. The flowy fabric, the sea green color of the dress, the thin straps and square neckline accentuating all the right places. You look down at yourself one last time and take a peak at the price tag before walking out of the dressing room to show it to Matt. It breaks your heart to act like it’s not the most beautiful dress you have ever worn. But you can’t afford it.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Matthew looking at you this way. His mouth is slightly agape which gives you an insane boost of confidence.

“Yeah I’m not gonna take this one. You wouldn’t be able to handle it.” You tease him which makes him slightly blush. Oh this is getting funny.

“Should I do a spin ? Let me do a spin”

Maybe you could not eat for the next month or two ? Because if it triggers this type of reaction from Matt you would wear it everyday.

When you look at him again, he stares at you and gulps.

“You look.. you look like a washed up algue on the Jersey shore” He deadpans. A smirk threatens to crack his serious appearance.

You explode in laughter, “You sure know how to talk to a woman. But that settles it I’m not buying it.” You turn around to go back into the dressing room without seeing his disappointed look or leaving him the time to argue with you.

You try on the rest of the dresses but none of them are what you are looking for so you bid goodbye to the sales assistants and exit the store.

“This was very cute of you Matt but I promise I’ll find the perfect dress in a thrift shop without having to starve for the next month.” You assured him.

“Yeah sure sorry…” How dare he be this cute??

“I know that we went to this type of store with my sister for her proms and she loved it.” He argues

You smile at him, “So you wanted my experience to be as authentic as it gets.”

“Exactly” he gives you that cheeky childish grin. He’s proud of himself and he can be.

You shake your head at him and urge him in the direction of your favorite coffee shop.

“It’s too late for coffee I think”, he remarks which makes you look at the time on your phone.

“Wow I didn’t think we wasted that much time in the store” you were surprised, but then again time moves so fast when you were having fun with Matt.

“Hey come on it wasn’t a waste of time you got to try on beautiful dresses” he argued again, heading back in the direction of your dorm.

“You’re right but not walking faster to get to Phil’s surely is a waste of time” You saying grinning.

“When it comes to getting food it always sounds like you’re the 6’7 hockey players who needs to eat a lot of calories” He’s already caught up to you so you can punch his arm at the teasing.

“Yeah well where would I get the energy to annoy you if I didn’t eat this much?”, you give him the same sassy energy back.

The banter and the laughter doesn’t stop and suddenly he’s already walking you back to your dorm and hugging you goodbye.

Once you are in your pyjamas you get your laptop out and get to work on your assignment.

To your dismay, pretty boys don’t make uni work disappear…

——

You were looking at your eyeshadow palette, indecisive. Maybe you should just do a simple eyeliner ? You wanted to do your best, look your best, impress Matt after everything he’s done for you.

You were lucky to find a dress similar to the sea green one you had found in the store but just a tad lighter in colour. You put on your highest heels so the pictures with Matthew looked better. He promised to make it look as authentic as possible so he got one of the older guys on the team to let him borrow the apartment. Pictures by the fireplace are a must according to him.

So you gathered all the belongings you needed after your only class this morning and came to the address he had sent you. You called the number he had sent along when you were in front of the building and a nice woman who introduced herself as Christine told you what apartment to go to.

You were sort of starstruck when she first opened the door and wondered how these hockey players really bagged all these 10s. She wasn’t amongst the girls and women you had met both times you have gone with Matt to the bar to celebrate after a game and you understood why when you heard two kids arguing in the background.

She had quickly let you in and apologized for the noise they were making while taking you to the room where you could get ready. You had thanked her a million times over for welcoming you this way but she told you that they couldn’t say no when Matthew had explained his plan so sweetly. She had commented about how lucky you were to have him with a wink and you nodded, cheeks flustered.

Now you are almost done. You had begun with your hair, finally decided to just do a soft look on your eyes with some glitter and put on your dress.

You are putting on your pink gloss, looking at yourself in the mirror. You promise yourself that this is the night you will tell Matt how you feel, when you hear a knock on the door.

“Honey, are you ready? Matthew is here.” Christine calls out to you.

“I will be out in a minute.”, you answer as you put on your perfume finally.

You take a deep breath before opening the door and shake your arms in a manner to get the anxiety out of your body. You walk to the living room slowly to not scrap the parquet with your heels, looking down at your feet, dress in hand.

When you get there, you raise your head to find Matt already looking at you. He looks stunning in his suits, you already knew that. But there something that made him look particularly handsome. Probably knowing that he dressed up for you.

A smile creeps its way in your face as he stares at you in awe. You pat yourself on the back internally for doing a good job on the hair and makeup.

“You look um… you look beautiful.”, he finally manages to get out.

You giggle and thank him. He really makes you feel like a high schooler, you think.

“You don’t look bad yourself.” You smile.

“You see me in a suit every other day”, he’s being modest.

“But you have something particular about yourself today”

Oh god, you’re gonna be the death of him. Complementing him so effortlessly. He made more of an effort today it’s true. He wanted to look half as good as you at least. He also made a point of not fighting in his last games so he doesn’t have a bruised face on these pictures.

“Oh I got something for you.” He reaches out behind him on the fireplace and grabs a box. You walk closer, curious to see what it is and your eyes lay in a beautiful corsage for your wrist and a matching flower for his pocket.

You give him your hand and look at him while puts it on “It’s beautiful thank you.”

“Okay kids, let's take some cute pictures,” Christine says, clapping her hands, even though she already took ten pictures of you interacting.

“I see you’re fully playing your role” you laugh at her antics.

“Just rehearsing for the future”, she retorts with the same cocky smile you gave her. “Okay now get in front of the fireplace. Matt stands behind her.” She was giving instructions like a pro and you assumed she’s already done this for her own prom.

Just like she said, Matt walks up behind you and sneaks his arms around your waist. Instinctively, he spreads his fingers but his hands awkwardly cover your whole tummy so he holds your hips.

You try to relax for the picture but you’re overly aware of every inch of his body touching yours.

“Come on guys, give me your best smiles now!” Christine encourages you.

You try to focus on the pictures, the camera, your hair, your smile. You rearrange your dress to be sure it is okay.

Once she says she has a few good ones, you change your pose and you get used to it. You look at a few before takes and they do look beautiful.

Once you’re done, Matt thanks Christine and you both head out to the restaurant he had made a reservation for.

The taxi ride is not too long since you were already in a nice part of the city. The restaurant looks way too over priced and you feel bad for how much money he’s spending on you.

Once you’re sitting at your table, you can help but tease him, “I’m amazed you even managed to make such a reservation.”

“Schneider helped”, he admits.

“So this evening really is a team effort. If I wasn’t enjoy it so much, I would probably feel bad for bothering everybody”, you say half jokingly.

The whole dinner is amazing and delicious. You don’t think you’ve ever eaten in a place this fancy and frankly both of you probably look out of place.

More than once you laugh a little too loud and swear a little too often which earns you some pointed glances from the old rich people around you. That only makes you laugh even more.

By the time you’re out of them, you feel the slight buzz of the overpriced wine and can’t wait to see what Matt has planned next.

The next taxi ride takes you back to his apartment and you’re sad you didn’t get to dance. You think you might still convince Matt to put on some music to dance in the kitchen too.

You think of your arguments all the way up and when he makes you wait in the hallway. But you don’t need any once he opens the door and lets you see what he prepared inside.

There was glitter everywhere, colorful light effects and you couldn’t even catch a glimpse of a photo zone next to the bathroom door.

“I know we don’t have a prom party with all the people dancing around us and our friends but I hoped this would make do.”, he says looking at you from behind, studying your every emotion.

You turn to him, your brightest smile on your face “This is perfect Matt.” You grab his hand and drag him inside.

“Let’s take a picture first. We can set the timer and flash on my phone.” You set your phone in the place he prepared for it and push on the timer. You take your dutiful place in front of him in front of the photo zone and there’s no awkwardness as earlier.

Then you go back to the leaving room to put some music on, he goes to the kitchen and comes out with punch.

“Don’t we face the chaperones too? For the more authentic experience…”

“You plan on doing such naughty things you need a chaperone?” Oh, you weren’t expecting him to clap back this way.

“I don’t have enough alcohol in the system, bring that punch over here”, cowardly move but you didn’t lie. You need more liquid courage to tell him everything you think.

You take the drink from his hand when he extends it to you and down half of it.

You cradle the rest of your hand while Give me everything tonight plays in the background but it doesn’t take long for you to finish that too.

You dance to your favorite songs until a slow by Def Leppard comes on. “Wouldn’t be a full prom experience if we didn’t slow dance”, Matt defends his choice of putting it in the playlist.

“You’re right. Let’s dance”c you nod getting closer to him. Your fingers are intertwined behind his neck and his hands settle in your lower back.

With each sway to the rhythm, your bodies get closer.

You look amazing. He used beautiful earlier but that hadn’t been enough to describe how truly gorgeous you look. He wants to use every word he knows, compare you to stars and flowers and yet it still feels like it wouldn’t be enough. You are giving him your brightest smile and he feels proud at the thought that he is the one who put it on your face. He made you happy. He wants to make you happy everyday in the future.

You are so close to him. Right in front of him. He thinks he should gather his courage and tell you he likes you. He can feel the warmth radiating from your skin through your thin dress, your fingers running through his hair at the nape of his neck.

He thinks about all the times you’ve made him happy. The first time you ever talked to him and offered snacks to him and his friends who were just strangers in the park. The time when you first surprised him by coming to Hartford to see him play. He wasn’t seeing you in that light at the time. However recently, when you came to comfort him after he had been suspended for four games. He had wanted to kiss you then right in his lobby when he saw you. But he couldn’t use you like that to drown his sorrows. And what were the chances that you wouldn’t push him away and leave him all alone?

He always thought you were hot, even Schneider and Lafrenière commented on it when he had brought you to the bar with them to celebrate. He had told them to back off right then and there, to not even think about it. He thought it was due to friendly protectiveness. He later realised that he hated the thought of anyone else putting their hands on you and make you happy in that way.

“Why didn’t you ever kiss me?”, you interrupt his train of thought. He is completely caught out. Did he hear you right? He takes another few seconds to process but he can see the concern taking over your features.

“I could do that? I didn’t know I could?” he looks dumbfounded which makes you laugh. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Do you want to?”

“Stupid question. Can I kiss you?”, his breath is ragged.

“Stupid question.” you giggle, “Lose some more time asking others like this o-“.

He doesn’t let you finish before crashing his lips on yours and stealing your breath away. It’s passionate but sweet and oh so soft at the same time.

It’s so much better than you couldn’t have ever imagined. Sparks fly. Butterflies erupt in your stomach. Shivers run down your spine. You have wanted this for so long, was tempted to do it a million times and it is finally happening.

You need more. You wish he would never stop kissing you.

When he pulls away for air, slightly panting and lips and the skin around them sparkly from your gloss, you can’t help the chuckle.

“It tastes like cherry”, he says through a small laugh of his own.

“Oh yeah? wanna taste it some more?”

spit kink jamie doing something to me. it’d be so funny to see what his friends would say the first few times you guys did it in front of them

spit saga masterlist

patreon saw it first! (on may 1, 2024)

ashdhdjk i love love love thinking abt this <3 ty for prompting me to actually write abt it (+ spit kink origin details — if you want more of a narrative, lmk!)

cw — alcohol consumption, doing lewd things in public places, sexual experimentation + kink exploration, d/s dynamics + smidge of brat taming, manhandling, having meddling menaces for friends

i feel like the very first time was accidental? or, at least, not premeditated. it just sorta happened, and its not inherently sexual.

like, maybe you both are a lil tipsy and you want a sip but he's being a jerk (affectionate) and trying to keep it away from you, eventually spilling it. all but what's in his mouth still... he taps your thigh and tilts his head back towards the kitchen, silently telling you to get up and he'll make you another one to share and you're like... or not? (bestie girl's really letting those intrusive thoughts win) and he's like oh 🤨 oh 😏

then he just... does it? casually. zero hesitation. no fanfare. jamie doesn't even check for on-lookers or think before he grabs your jaw, leans over, and spits whatever he'd been sipping straight into your mouth. and he definitely laughs at your shocked expression and the not-so-subtle clench of your thighs.

"i think you might've liked that more than you should."

"you're one to talk." — drawing attention to the tent in his pants :)

for some reason, i don't think y'all were necessarily "kinky" before this became a thing. you were comfortable and adventurous and playful, sure, but you never ventured too far off of the beaten path. this kinda unlocked a door for you... and everyone could tell and they constantly make jokes about it. like, "who would've thought jd and his girl, of all people, would swapping spit like birds on the reg" or jokingly patting him on the back because they "didn't think he had it in him" with regards to ~brat-taming~ because it was so out of left field (for them — we all know its the "quiet," normal-looking ones you gotta watch out for). i think they saw him do it from across the room/yard the very first time, but didn't think much of it because it was SO casual and it could be chalked up to drunkenness (but don't think this means they don't tease you both the next morning). then they saw it a second time... and a third... and it just kept happening?? (def get called "sick" and "disgusting" because if twenty-something boys are gonna do one thing, its hypocritically kink shame! and you know it comes from a place of jealousy, duh) but they never seriously protest because #freeshow

i do think there's a bit of shyness the first couple of times (back before you abandoned all sense of decorum). you don't ask for it upfront: you quietly ask for "sips" from his water or whatever he's drinking at the time. but everyone (and i mean everyone) knows what you're actually asking jamie for. or, rather, what you're asking him to do. even if they can't hear you or missed the initial request, your and jamie's eyes say enough (+ jamie keeps adjusting himself, and is bright red. for a little while, you cling to the ruse, bashful as you hide behind an innocent front. that is, when jamie isn't a menace who makes you "use your words" to ask for what you want 😵‍💫

jamie's no better, always tapping your jaw or your cheeks, or parting your lips with his thumb. no words necessary. procedural knowledge. as mindless as brushing your teeth or riding a bicycle. it brings you both immense satisfaction to move like this, to be so effortlessly in-sync. its a different kind of intimacy, like having a secret language, and it just makes everything else (sexual and not) feel better.

when you're in public or around friends, its short and sweet (usually — because there are... exceptions), intended to scratch the itch without causing too much of a scene, and that's about it. but when you're alone? he drags that shit out. makes you work for it, makes you cry for it. he wants you squirming and pouting and begging like a puppy desperate for a treat before he indulges you both. this, too, is done without conscious thought on his part. he acts in the moment, responding and reacting to your behavior, then recalls what he learned the next time an opportunity arises.

the "pleading period" grows as time goes on (as his resolve strengthens and your embarrassment fades). sometimes, its just because. because he can, because you let him. for his own amusement, to test your endurance, as foreplay. and he's not afraid to use your neediness against you whenever you're a brat (which is often — y'all get off on the push-and-pull / verbal sparring).

eventually, you have zero shame. sometimes, you'll ask nicely for it (jamie says this is his favorite, but everyone knows he LOVES when your claws come out). other times, you just walk up to him, open your mouth, and blink at him expectantly. he'll act all put-out and annoyed, sighing and rolling his eyes, but he stops what he's doing to tend to you, his sarcastic "happy now?" dripping with lust. jamie acts like its some big, annoying inconvenience, as if he didn't do it repeatedly of his own volition the night before?? or that he didn't walk into the room, grab your jaw from behind, then go about his business like nothing happened...

once your friends realize this shenanigan is here to stay get used to it, they definitely goad you both. not necessarily because they want to see the actual spit situation, but because its too damn fun to rile you up and pit you against one another. i feel like you n tz get into a lot of mischief in general, so its no surprise he's probably the main culprit when it comes to egging you on / pushing jamie's buttons for shits n giggs :) and i would't put it past anyone to create situations that make you irritable and bratty just to piss off your boyfriend — they think him trying to be a disciplinarian and being all authoritative top tier comedy.

it takes a lot to trigger a jd outburst, and this spit kink is like a cheat code...

i'm never gonna shut up abt this (and neither should u!!)

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

_____________________________________

"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.

Farmer's Market - Quinn Hughes

a/n: trying my hardest to find motivation for these so i can keep getting them out :) i'm still 10 days behind but it doesn't entirely matter. anyways. enjoy as always! <3

sumarry: you and quinn tape a trip to your local farmer's market and he buys you a special present when you are distracted

word count: ~1.4k

Every Saturday in your little Vancouver town, there’s a farmer’s market that’s filled with fresh fruits and vegetables, homemade goods like jams, chocolates and baked goods, and even handmade items, ranging from jewelry to shirts, and even decorations.

When you first moved here, Quinn wasn’t too keen on the idea, mainly because he liked to go on a run Saturday mornings and then clean things around the house. But the third week that you had been living there, he agreed to move his routine around and went with you.

Since then, he’s made it a habit of going for a run early in the morning before you are even awake, coming back to shower, get ready with you, and head into town for the market. There are some days where the weather is bad so you are unable to go, but weather permitting, you try to make it every week, just to have some fresh fruit in the house.

Quinn also loves picking out a new dessert to snack on for the week, talking with the people that make his favorite goods about how it was, if he disliked anything about it, and what he was wanting to try this week.

Your favorite item from them was slices of banana bread that they make fresh every Friday, with pieces of walnut mixed into the soft, cake-like structure; that was one thing you made sure to get every week.

As you and Quinn drive into town, it was a cloudy spring day, and both of you were dressed appropriately, in cozy sweaters, yours you actually bought locally made from the market by a vendor who no longer has a stall there due to family emergencies.

Quinn finds a parking spot and you walk around the front of the car to grab his hand, resting your head on his shoulder as you walk to where the stalls are located. You go right to the fruit section, parting ways with your boyfriend to pick out your favorite fruits independently.

He has his reusable tote bag and after paying for everything altogether, he puts the fruit in the bag and guides you over to the vegetables.

“I found this recipe for sautéed green beans and steak that I want to try this week,” he says, walking past a large lot of string beans, pausing to look at the price. He picks out a good handful and sets them in the basket provided. You pick out some cucumbers and broccoli as well, ringing out with that vendor shortly after. 

After getting the rest of your usual things, including a new dessert for Quinn, a peach cobbler that they made specially for him, you stroll around, looking at the new stalls and scanning over the handmade items they have.

Quinn spots a new jewelry stand and smiles to himself, suddenly getting an idea

“Hey, weren’t you mentioning how you needed a new bag?” He asks you, pointing in the opposite direction at the stall he was needing to look at. “It looks like they have some new stuff.” You cheer quietly and run off to the booth that has tote bags with different sayings and designs on them.

Quinn waits until you are far enough away to walk to the jewelry stall, looking down at all the silver and gold gemstone rings.

“Wow,” he whispers to himself, picking up a pink sapphire ring.

“All are handmade sterling silver or gold-filled, stones are ethically sourced, and these,” the guy gestures to a different section, “are sea glass I collected from different parts of the world.”

“They’re beautiful, oh my gosh,” Quinn compliments, looking over everything. He glances over his shoulder to make sure you were still distracted. “I’m looking for a ring for my girlfriend as an anniversary present. She loves gems and I think she’d love one of these.”

“Do you have an idea of what color she’d like?”

“I’m not sure…” his voice tapers off, running his fingers over different shades of blue and pink stones, to clear quartz and finally, he lands on a peridot ring, a simple band with a smooth bezel and a hammered band. It was slightly rustic but still quite elegant. “This one.”

The guy looks down at it and smiles.

“That’s peridot.”

“I remember her saying she wanted a green ring because it matches my eyes,” Quinn blushes as he thinks back your words. “It’s perfect.”

“Great! That’ll be…” the guy looks up the price of the ring on a sheet of laminated paper, “Forty-five dollars.”

Quinn sticks out the exact amount of cash to the guy, who carefully sets the ring in a small ring box, handing it off to the brunette.

“I hope she enjoys it,” the guy grins as Quinn drops the box into his bag.

“Thanks so much, I’ll let you know.” 

Quinn walks over to you, still standing at the designed tote bags that you have a large collection of at this point, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“Find something you like?” He asks, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

“I did.” You show him the bag that you spent some time picking out, a simple design on it with some saying about reading. “We can share it.”

He laughs, taking it in his hands to get a better look at it.

“Nice choice. Think we’re done for the day?” He wonders, glancing around at the rather quiet market space. Suddenly, you feel a drop of rain on your forehead, both you and Quinn looking up to the sky and then to each other.

“I guess so,” you giggle, grabbing his hand and heading for his car. The rain picks up rather quickly, but luckily, you shut the doors and are sheltered just as it starts to pour down rain. Quinn looks over at you and laughs loudly, running his hands through his hair.

“Looks like got lucky,” he says, starting the car and putting it in reverse to back out of his spot.

“I didn’t think it was supposed to rain,” you say, staring out the window as he drives back home.

“I thought they said in the afternoon, so it must have changed.”

As soon as you get home, Quinn takes the liberty of stocking the fruits in veggies in the places that you keep them, taking the small black box and putting it in his pocket. He wanted to wait to give it to you, but he was so excited and he knew it was going to be difficult to sit on it.

You step into the kitchen just as he shuts the fridge, walking over to give him a hug. His arms circle around your shoulders, holding you close to him.

“I bought you something today,” he whispers against your forehead. Raising your head, you narrow your eyes at him.

“You were with me the whole time…?” Your voice tapers off into a question, confusion crossing your face. 

“Not when you went to go look at tote bags. I got this for you.” He pulls the ring box from his pocket and hands it to you, allowing you to open it up. Your eyebrows furrow together when he places it on your hands, but as you open it, a gasp escapes you and your hand flies up to your face.

“Wh…” you are rendered speechless as you stare at the gorgeous ring in front of you.

“I wanted to give it to you for our anniversary, but I really couldn’t wait, I wanted you to have it,” he says, stepping closer to you and setting his hands on your waist.

“It’s beautiful, Quinn. Where did you even find it?”

“There was a new jewelry stall and I had to distract you, which is why i sent you over to pick out a bag,” he chuckles nervously, his fingertips fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“I love it, holy shit.” He laughs and you slide the ring onto a finger to try and gauge the size, and surprisingly, it fit your ring finger perfectly. Quinn smiles, relief washing over him when he sees that it fits at least one finger, and brings your hand up to his face.

“It looks perfect on you,” he whispers, kissing your knuckles just below the ring, gazing lovingly at you.

“It reminds me of your eyes,” you say, staring down at it, admiring the way it sparkles ever so slightly in the light. Quinn’s cheeks heat up and he looks down at the floor.

“That’s, uh, that’s why I picked it out. I knew you would think that.” Your hands cup your lover’s cheeks and you kiss him sweetly, his hands tightening around your waist.

“You know me so well, darling.”

taglist: @petite-potato4

Sunburnt

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: reader gets a little too excited on her first day at the lake, resulting in a nasty sunburn

notes: hi!!!! long time so see!! my writing slump has been brutal, but i had a lil pool day today and was sitting there thinking about what a summer at the hughes lake house is like while sunbathing and this little piece popped into my head. it’s not much and probably a lil all over the place, but i hope you enjoy!! i missed all of you 🥺

[3.3k]

(also, unedited bc it’s late and i’m going to bed. i might edit it in the morning, we’ll see)

You’ve waited all year for this. You have absolutely nothing on your agenda but two straight months of lake house fun and working on your tan.

Your move to New Jersey had really put a halt to any tan building for a majority of the year. You learned quickly that the winters were long and brutal, leaving little room to feed your sunbathing addiction.

You had tried to find a salon to tan at, but you quickly got bored of the bright lights and sterile smell. You even tried spray tans a couple of times, but you always felt you had more of an orange tone than a golden one.

You didn’t have to worry about any of it for a second longer, though. You were finally in the place you craved to be year-round.

Since the season ended early for the boys this year, the Devils losing their shot at the playoffs, you and Jack had packed your things and left Jersey the second all of his current post-season duties were over with.

Jack had managed to secure himself a pass on any other post season activities the players might be pulled for. He wasn’t required to return to the city until pre-season started.

Luke and Quinn were set to join the two of you whenever they could, but with Luke playing on the U.S. national team, and Quinn’s playoff run with the Canucks coming up, it would be weeks before either brother made their way to the beloved lake house.

Ellen and Jim were also set to join at some point during the stay, but weren’t yet sure of when they could escape their work for a few weeks.

This leaves you and Jack with the entire house to yourself for the beginning of your stay. You loved the other Hughes brothers, but with Luke living with Jack and your own roommate being a homebody, the two of you were rarely ever awarded with true alone time.

You were currently putting sheets on the bed in what will be yours and Jack’s room for the next two months while Jack unloads his car.

You were nearly done when you hear the sound of a suitcase being dragged up the stairs.

“God, Y/N, I know we’re going to be here a while, but it feels like you packed your entire apartment in here.”

Poking your head out of the open doorway, you watch as your boyfriend heaves your gigantic suitcase up the double flight of stairs.

“Well, I was going to only pack a few swimsuits and pjs, but I figured I should pack some real clothes for when the rest of your family gets here.”

Jack responds with a glare as he climbs the final step, stopping to take a breather. His face was a light shade of red and there were a few beads of sweat on his top lip.

“You know, I figured since you just finished your season you’d still be in pretty decent shape, but it looks like you’re going to have to stay in the gym all summer. Maybe do a bit more cardio and weight lifting, seeing as you’re struggling to carry my lil’ ole’ suitcase,” you tease, retreating back into the bedroom to place the decorative pillows on the bed.

“Maybe if you didn’t shove a dead body in your luggage I’d be able to carry it up the stairs like a normal person. But no, you had to pack cinderblocks.” He rolls the oversized suitcase into the corner of the room, placing his own measly duffle bag next to it.

You let a small giggle slip out, walking over to where Jack was standing with his hands on his hips.

Once you reach him, you place your hands through the opening left by his arms on either side of his torso, hugging him close to you. You let your chin rest on his chest as you look up at him, his own face tilted down so he could meet your eyes.

“Thank you, my big strong hockey player boyfriend, for carrying the dead body in my suitcase up the stairs. I’ll make sure to leave your name out of all this in court,” you joke, leaning up to place a small peck on his lips.

“Oh, how kind of you. How will I ever repay you?” Jack places his own arms around you, pulling you even closer.

“Hmmm…” you pretend to think. “How about helping me rub tanning lotion on my back and laying in the sun with me for the rest of the day?”

Jack acts like he’s mulling it over, raising his eyebrows while tilting his head to one side.

“I guess I can manage that. Considering the circumstances.”

You smile up at him, pulling out of his embrace.

“Yay! Okay, I have to go get changed. Set up the chairs for us?” You ask him, clapping your hands together out of excitement.

“Your wish is my command,” Jack says with a bow, playfully rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

You turn to open your suitcase to fish out one of the many bathing suits you brought as Jack makes his way out of the room.

“Find the sunniest spot you can! I need to make up for lost time!” you shout after him, hearing a laugh as he makes his way down the stairs.

Only 10 minutes later, you walk out of the sliding glass door leading to the backyard. You spot Jack on the dock down near the lake, putting the final touches on your sunny oasis.

You make the small trek down to him, pool bag in hand and sunglasses on your face.

“Wow, all this for me?” you announce your presence as you reach the end of the lengthy deck.

Jack had set up two tanning chairs on the end of the dock, an umbrella in-between them for when you inevitably claim you’re too hot and sweaty to sit in the sun any longer. He had a small cooler set up with waters, beer for himself, and some of your favorite fruity seltzers.

He had even found a small fan that he clipped to the arm of your chair to keep you cool while you laid out in the sun. He was fiddling with the small speaker he had under the umbrella as you approached, a country song flowing out around you.

“Only the best for my little felon,” he recalls your earlier conversation, raising up to give you his full attention.

Once his eyes fall on you, his mouth snaps shut.

You had picked your skimpiest bikini, wanting to get all of the risqué swimsuits out of the way before the two of you had company later in the summer.

The number you were currently sporting was a pale pink matching set. Two tiny triangles covered your chest, while a high-legged thong covered the rest of you.

You watched as his darkening eyes raked over your body, his tongue poking out to wet his dry lips.

“Hell, baby, you can stuff my dead body in a suitcase if you’re going to look like that while doing it,” Jack breathes out.

You laugh at his response, walking over and setting your stuff on your chair, patting his bare chest as you walk past him.

You bend over to grab your tanning lotion out of your bag when you feel a light smack on your ass cheek, straightening up to find Jack standing right behind you, his hand finding its place on your exposed hip.

“Y’know, we could skip this whole tanning thing and go make use of that big, empty house while we have the chance,” Jack lowly whispers in your ear, sliding his hand around to ghost his fingers up and down the soft skin of your belly.

You lean your head back on his shoulder at the touch, allowing yourself to enjoy it for a few more seconds before turning around in his hold and placing your hands on his freckled shoulders.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea and would absolutely love to….” You trail off, standing on your tip toes and letting your lips touch his ear as you speak. Jack gulps, closing his eyes as he feels your hand slip from its spot on his shoulder and continue to move downward, almost reaching the band of his swimming trunks when you stop.

“…..after we tan” you finish, bringing your hand back up to pat his cheek, causing his eyes to shoot open.

“Okay, not fair,” he pouts as you push him back so you can continue digging through your bag.

“You told me you’d tan with me, so tan with me you shall,” you remind him, finding the bottle of lotion and holding it out to him.

Jack fulfills your wishes and very thoroughly applies the dark lotion to your skin, only being reprimanded for wandering hands a few times.

The two of you lay out on the dock for hours, enjoying each other’s company while feeling the rays soak into your skin. You talk about Jack’s team and this past season, what the upcoming season might hold, what the plan is for when the rest of the Hughes family joins, and various other light topics.

At one point you let the soft music and warmness of the sun lull you to sleep, only waking up when Jack comes over and gently shakes your shoulders.

“Y/N, c’mon, time to go inside. You’ve been in the sun for way too long, you’re going to get burnt,” Jack softly speaks to you as you come back into consciousness.

“Mmm, don’t wanna. Too comfy. Warm. Five more minutes,” you fight him, turning your head over to face opposite him.

“Nope, not an option. Can’t let you get too fried on your first day. You won’t be able to do anything for days if we don’t go inside, Lovey,” Jack uses the nickname he stole from your own family.

You grumble in protest, but peel yourself from the chair nonetheless. You notice how much lower the sun is in the sky and wander what time it is. You pull your phone from your bag to see you’ve been out here well into the evening.

You realize you and Jack forgot to go grocery shopping after you got here, your excitement about the sunshine causing you to forget any other chores you intended on doing today.

You grab your bag and follow Jack back up the dock, admiring the way the muscles in his back are flexed due to him carrying the still full cooler on his shoulder.

“Hey, J, what are we gonna do for dinner? We don’t have any groceries and I’m not sure if you want to go out, but-“ you’re cut off by your own stomach, the growl loud enough for the two of you to hear over the music still flowing through the speaker in Jack’s pocket.

“Yeah, looks like we’re going out, huh?” Jack laughs as your cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink than they already are from the sun.

You reach the house and help unload the cooler into the fridge before making your way up the stairs to rinse off and change.

When you step into the bathroom and undress, you’re shocked to see the extremely present tan lines already formed on your very red skin. You hadn’t noticed it outside, but your entire front half is a fiery shade of red.

You lightly press two fingers to the skin in-between your breasts and notice the two white fingerprints left behind. Your eyes widen when you realize how badly burnt you are.

You exit the bathroom to grab the after-sun lotion you packed before returning and turning the shower on, making sure you remember to lather yourself in the lotion after you’re done showering.

You peel back the curtain and step under the warm stream of water, but the feeling of the water hitting your sensitive skin causes you to cry out, trying to remove yourself from the water’s harsh sting.

Your scream of pain grabs Jack’s attention, causing him to rush up the stairs and burst into the bathroom, panic evident on his face.

“Y/N, what’s wrong, are you okay?” he steps into the bathroom, looking around for the source of your scream.

“Jack, we have a problem….” You whine, pulling the curtain back to reveal the state of your skin.

Jack’s eyebrows shoot up, eyes widening at the angry, red color of your skin.

“Oh Lovey…”

You stand with the curtain open, shivering despite the elevated temperature of your skin. You had turned the water to cold to avoid the searing pain again, but the cold felt like small knives poking into your flesh.

“I think we got a little too excited with the tanning lotion….” You squeak out, trying to wrap your arms around yourself, but any touch to your skin felt like fire.

Jack’s eyes fill with sympathy, but also guilt.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have woken you up sooner. You just looked so content I didn’t want to make you go inside just yet.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I should have set a timer or something. You know how I get,” you wave off his guilt, knowing you can get a little sun-drunk sometimes.

Although, you had never let yourself get this burnt before.

You blame the New Jersey climate and its lack of warm weather for your tanning needs to prevent this from happening once you do manage to get somewhere warm and sunny.

Jack still looks at you, not sure what to do for you, but not wanting to leave you by yourself, seeing as you’re stuck standing with your arms held out a few inches from your torso to avoid any unwanted skin contact.

“I don’t know how I’m going to shower, Jack. The water burns so bad, even on cold. But I have to get this sticky lotion off of me,” you whine again, frustrated that you’re burnt so badly you can’t even wash the tacky lotion off of your body.

“I’ll go get a soft washcloth, hang on,” Jack leaves the bathroom for only a second before returning with a soft, blue cloth in his hands.

He adjusts the water temperature and holds the cloth under the lukewarm water for a moment before applying some of your body wash to it and handing it to you.

You take the cloth from his hands and attempt to wash yourself, but any movement of your limbs causes your damaged skin to pull, making you whimper out in pain.

“Okay, don’t worry baby, I got you,” Jack takes the cloth from you, stepping into the shower, standing in-between you and the water streaming out of the shower head.

“Please, be careful, J, it hurts,” you whine out, eyeing the cloth in his hand.

“I got you, Lovey, trust me,” Jack tells you as he drags the cloth over your skin so lightly you’re not even sure it’s touching you.

He continues the feather-light motion slowly, until he’s cleaned your entire body.

“I have to rinse you now, okay? It might sting, but we’ll go slow,” he turns to rinse the cloth, letting it soak with water once more after there’s no traces of soap left.

You close your eyes as he squeezes the water out of the cloth onto your arm, the sting only slightly better than before, but bearable enough you only have to have him stop once.

After he rinses all of the soap off of your body, Jack turns off the shower and finds the softest towel in the cabinet under the sink. He pats your sore skin dry, then rubs the after-sun lotion all over your body before helping you into your pajamas.

“Jack, I don’t think I can wear this, hurts too bad,” you tell him when he hands you the matching button up shirt to the shorts you’re currently wearing.

“Okay, go topless, then. Won’t hurt my feelings any,” he winks at you, causing you to roll your eyes with a smile.

Once you were as dressed as you could stand to be, Jack helps you to the bed sitting in the middle of your bedroom. Luckily your back wasn’t burnt, so he helps you into a partial sitting position, piling several pillows behind you to prop you up.

He starts to pull the blanket over you, but you stop him, knowing anything touching your skin right know would bring you to tears.

“Babe, you’re going to get cold if you don’t cover up with something. As soon as the sun sets you’ll get the chills,” he eyes the large window on the other side of the room, knowing it’ll be dark in another hour.

“Jack it hurts too bad, I can’t,” you cry out, pouting at him.

“Okay, fine. We’ll figure something out later,” he gives in, walking over to the other side of the bed and sitting down.

He turns on the tv and attempts to find something for the two of you to watch when your stomach growls again, reminding you that you still hadn’t eaten since this morning.

“Jack, I’m still hungry.”

“Do you want me to go grab something?”

“No, don’t leave me here by myself, what if my skin starts melting off?” you exasperated.

Jack laughs at you. “Your skin isn’t going to start melting, but fine. I’ll go find the take out menus and see who delivers.”

Thirty minutes later the doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of your Chinese food.

Jack goes to grab the food and bring plates upstairs so the two of you can eat in your bed, knowing you don’t feel like trying to walk downstairs to the dining room table.

He sets everything out like a small buffet. You manage to sit up a little straighter and try to reach for a plate, but the movement brings a new stinging warmth to the skin of your arm.

“Jack, I can’t even reach for a plate, how am I supposed to fill said plate and feed myself,” you say, frustrated.

Jack doesn’t say anything, but he takes the plate you were reaching for and puts all of your favorites on it. He grabs a fork and moves so he’s sitting cross-legged beside you.

“Here, open up,” Jack brings a fork full of food towards your mouth, motioning for you to open your mouth as the fork gets closer to you.

You open your mouth and he shovels the food in, going back in for more food once you had chewed and swallowed the first bite.

“Are you really going to sit here and feed me that entire plate?” you ask him, slightly embarrassed that this is how your first night at the lake house is going.

“Well, yeah. You said you were hungry, right?” Jack responds, looking at you as if he thought your question was stupid.

“I am, but you don’t have to do this. You can eat your food. I’ll figure out something. I feel like a kid sitting here being fed,” you tell him, wishing you could cross your arms the way you usually do when you pout.

“Y/N, you’re sitting in front of me with no shirt on. I’m trying my hardest not to stare at your boobs right now because I feel it would be wildly inappropriate to be sporting a boner when my girlfriend is clearly in pain. I can assure you, the last thing I’m thinking about right now is you resembling a kid,” he says, seriousness lacing his tone.

You laugh at your boyfriend, causing the skin on your belly to burn slightly, but you don’t care. You love how Jack can always make you feel better about any situation, even one as embarrassing as this.

“Now, c’mon and open up. Your food is gonna get cold,” he fusses, bringing another fork full of food towards your mouth.

He feeds you an entire plate of food, then eats his own. He takes the dishes and leftovers downstairs before coming back up to take a shower of his own.

Once he’s done with his own shower, he brings the bottle of after-sun back into the bedroom and lathers your skin in it once again, hoping this will help soothe your skin a bit more before the two of you try to sleep.

He settles in the bed, and as he predicted, you’ve started violently shivering.

“Can I please put a blanket on you now? I know you said it hurts, but you’re going to shiver right out of this bed if you don’t cover up,” Jack pleads, hating to see you shaking like this.

“Yeah, we can try. But maybe just the top sheet only for now,” you tell him, still apprehensive.

He gently pulls the top sheet over your body, letting it fall right at your collar bone.

You thank him for that second coat of after-sun because you can actually bear the thin cotton on your skin this time.

“Better?” he asks, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from you.

“Better. Thank you, Jack,” you tell him, causing him to relax a bit.

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he shrugs it off, moving to get himself settled on his side of the bed.

“No, I mean it. I’m sorry I let myself ruin our first night here. I just got too eager, I guess. Forgot I haven’t laid out in a while.”

“It’s okay. Really. It’s partially my fault, too. For letting you sleep for so long without making you move under the umbrella with me,” he turns the light off, sliding down next to you, but not touching your skin.

“Well, I promise, I’m wearing sunscreen and sunscreen only for the rest of the summer,” you swear to him, moving your hand to loop your pinky through his, not being able to handle not touching him.

“I mean, I’m all for it, babe, but I don’t know how my parents and brothers will feel about that,” Jack quips back. You can hear the amused smile on his face, even though the room is pitch black.

“Goodnight, Jack.” Is all you say, rolling your eyes and smiling even though you know he can’t see you.

Jack lets out a laugh, squeezing your pinky.

Your skin may be on fire due to your love of sun soaking, but your heart has been sunburnt for years; Jack’s own personal sunshine setting it on fire every second you’re together.