Chapter 1: Surprise! (jack And Quinn Belong In Hell)

Chapter 1: surprise! (jack and quinn belong in hell)

Series Masterlist

Summary: Deciding to take a leap and surprise your best friend doesn't end the way you hoped.

A/n: Hello hello, it's me! Mario! Just kidding, it's just me, and I am once again back with the first chapter of a new lil series! This one is near and dear to my little heart because it's full-on friends-to-lovers (with lots of idiocy sprinkled in there somewhere) and boy am I excited for you guys to follow along with this lil story. This one is a little extra special to me because there are some real-life things I've experienced thrown in there, and also because I spent a long time (three months to be exact) coming up with not only the storyline but also the fake Lake and the history surrounding it. So without further ado, I hope you enjoy:)

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June 14th

Jack Hughes had been in your life since you were born and he was an annoying little two-year-old. As the years passed and you grew up, he never stopped being annoying. When you were a teenager, you thought there must come a day when he wouldn't be a pain in your ass. That day had yet to come, and for all intents and purposes, today wasn’t that day either.

Because Jack Hughes had been calling you nonstop for thirty minutes.

You supposed you could have picked up and put yourself out of your misery, but you were no fool; Jack wanted something from you, and while you would have done anything for him, a brother from another mother and all that jazz, your willingness was significantly less present at 6:30 am.

At last, the agitating noise of his specially chosen ringtone (Party in the U.S.A, which you otherwise loved, but again, not at 6:30 am) finally stopped and silence once more encapsulated your tiny childhood bedroom. A sliver of sun slipped into the room from a crack in your blackout curtains, leaving a soft glow and promise of the summery weather to come later in the day.

You were too comfortable to get up and start said day, though, so you snuggled further into your pink and white sheets, determined to get at least two more hours of sleep. Just as you were halfway to drifting off, your phone once more lit up the room, and you were prepared to chuck it somewhere far, far away. But then the lyrics of Party Rock Anthem blasted through your phone's speakers, and you sat up so fast your vision filled with temporary black spots. Frantically searching for the device, your fingers closed around the pinkly colored titanium, and you accepted the call.

"Quinn? Is everything alright?"

"Wow, Chippy, answering Quinn right away but not me? Guess he truly is the favorite," Jack's mock-offended voice crackled through the line. You groaned and let yourself fall back onto your pillow with a huff.

"You stole Quinn's phone? Really?"

"No, he willingly gave it to me. We have important business to discuss with you," Jack tsked, "now answer the call."

"What, Jack-" A new call, this time a request for FaceTime, came through and you sighed deeply before answering. You weren't too worried about your less-than-impressive morning state; they'd seen you looking worse.

The call connected and soon the two idiots you (sometimes) liked to call your honorary brothers popped up on your screen.

"Asshat. Hi Quinny." Jack rolled his eyes at the endearment, Quinn greeting you with a small wave. Rolling over and onto your side, you propped your phone against one of your decorative pillows and waited for Jack to present whatever "important business" he had.

"Great, now that the committee is gathered: How soon can you be in Michigan?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Has NYU really hindered your sense of understanding that much? I thought it was supposed to do the opposite," Jack mused and stuck his tongue out at you when you did it first. You looked to Quinn for some clarity.

"Can you be in Michigan soon?" he asked, leaving you no more and no less understanding than before.

"Um, well, I was going to this week but my parents aren't going to the lake until the fourth and I don't know if I want to be alone at the house," you told them, brows furrowing, mainly because you had already told Luke this and had up until now been pretty sure he'd told his brothers.

When you were three years old, your parents bought a lake house by Lake Wesding, a smaller lake in central Michigan, wanting to have a designated spot for when you came to visit your dad's side of the family. Growing up in New Hampshire, you had seen your mom's side the most, and buying a lake house in Michigan allowed you to spend extended amounts of time with your dad's side too.

The lake house quickly became your favorite place in the world, second to only the Hughes household, and ever since you could remember, you'd spent every summer there, and sometimes Christmas too. When the Hughes family moved to Toronto and away from your neighborhood in New Hampshire, the lake house soon became your designated meeting spot. Most of those summers you spent there were often in the company of Jim, Ellen, Quinn, Jack, and Luke.

When Quinn and Jack signed their first NHL contracts, they had grown to love the lake just as much as you and decided to buy their own house there. And so the last few summers began, with you (or them) spending every waking moment running back and forth between the two houses. Or rather: sailing, as your family's house happened to only be two docks away.

"You can bring friends?" Jack suggested, wiggling his brows and having you visibly gagging. You knew how he felt about your friends, Annie in particular.

"Or, just stay with us?" Quinn suggested, the smack he landed on the back of Jack's head not going unnoticed by you.

"And why would I do that?" you played along, already planning the trip in your head. You missed the lake, the feeling of summer, the boys, and especially-

"Luke is driving us crazy!" Jack threw up his hands in despair, a pained expression on his boyish face. "And before you ask, more than he normally does," Quinn added and you broke out in a small laugh, more so at the mention of your best friend than his brothers' current feelings about him. Because truly, you missed Luke so much it hurt to breathe, and you'd only been away from him for a mere four weeks.

As his season ended and he packed up to head to worlds, you stayed back in your college apartment in New York for a few weeks, wanting to spend a little extra time with your roommates and best friends before not seeing them until the beginning of your senior year. And then as he'd gotten back to Michigan, less than a week ago, you'd taken the trip up to your childhood home in New Hampshire to be with your parents until you'd fly with them to Michigan.

But Luke was also your best friend since diapers, the one person you trusted most in this entire world and could never live without. After being spoiled for the hockey season with him close by, the distance seemed further than ever. Further than even when he was living in Toronto and you in New Hampshire, and then again when they moved to Michigan.

"Why was he driving you crazy? I figured he'd be sleeping most of the day." Your comment made the three of you chuckle, all knowing that that's exactly what Luke Hughes liked to do on his days off.

"He does, but the 20% of the day he's awake, he does nothing-" "And we mean nothing," Quinn butted in, "-but complain about how much he misses you."

"Surely you're exaggerating," you deadpanned, but their words still sent a little ball of fire through your chest. Especially since you felt the same way, and not telling your parents a gazillion times a day that you missed Luke was almost as hard as the act of missing him.

"No, we counted. Yesterday, he said your name 72 times."

"And the day before 85."

"And today ten times."

"That's a lie; he's not awake yet." He would've texted you the very second his eyes opened, you knew that. So did they.

"Okay, but I heard him saying it in his sleep when I went to get water this morning!"

"Do you not have anything better to do than count how many times your brother says my name?" You tried to divert them, thinking before your cheeks caught on fire and they'd figure out you enjoyed hearing how much Luke thought and talked about you when you weren't there. Jack sighed and ran his hand down his face, groaning into his palm. "Are you coming or not? We're going insane here."

You wanted to scream yes, to pack your bags and be on a plane to Michigan tonight. One little detail had you hesitating, though.

"Are you guys sure he'd want me there?" You tried to question them like you didn't care, but a bout of insecurity hit you like a truck. Rationally, you knew Luke wanted you at the lake, considering he asked when you were coming at least three times a day. Not so rationally though? You were worried he'd rather want to spend time with his brothers and friends for a little while before you joined them.

Quinn saw right through you, though, an annoying skill he'd somehow managed to pick up throughout his years of knowing you. He smiled, kindly, letting you know his next words were serious, not just the product of overdramatics and siblings who (affectionately) wanted to strangle their little brother.

"Promise, once he sees you he won't let go of you the entire summer."

⋆｡𖦹 °. 𓇼 ⋆❀˖°

And so it was decided. The plan was for you to move your already booked flight to Detroit up, and after light persuasion (aka name-dropping of Jack and Cole), so were your two friends, Annie and Isa. Since they both opted to stay in your shared apartment in New York after your final exams, they were to fly in together on the evening of the 16th, with you arriving earlier the same day.

As soon as you had finally gotten dumb and dumber to hang up the phone (not before a little catching up as well as some light gossiping, though), your first call had been to your friends before you went straight to packing. It had been slightly stressed and a lot rushed now that the time you previously thought you had to plan your summer outfits had been condensed to a mere two days. Yet, you somehow managed, and before you could say Lake Wesding, it was June 16th and you were standing on Michigan ground, having just stepped out of your Uber from the airport.

You breathed in the lake air for a few minutes, taking in your favorite place: the garden and the flowers your mom tended to as if they were her children. The white wooden exterior with blue shutters and the big wraparound porch, home to your precious porch swing, stood in contrast to the green and blue of the garden and lake in the background, and as with every time you were there, you just felt at peace.

Said peace didn't last too long, though, as "Hey Baby" once more blasted through your phone speaker and replaced the serenity with guilt. Truth be told, you were ignoring Luke's calls and only answered the occasional text, too afraid you'd spill your carefully crafted surprise. Jack and Quinn had assured you that it would be fun for all (mostly them, probably) if none of you told Luke you were coming. But you also hated lying to the curly-haired boy, and when you had turned off your location, almost immediately having him blowing up your phone in concern, you had almost cracked right then and there. Somehow, you had managed to play it off, and now you were only minutes away from seeing him, relieving yourself of the guilt, and hopefully, him of his worry.

Well, after a quick shower. The airport air was lingering on your skin, and reuniting with Luke while feeling icky wasn't something you wanted. Maybe a small, tiny, little insignificant part of you also wanted to look nice, but you weren't ready to dwell on that particular thought.

Exactly 57 minutes later, freshly showered and redressed in your favorite bikini and shorts combination, you found yourself standing in front of the Hughes residence, your baby pink bike discarded by their garage. Their lake house, composed of dark brick and serving as a stark contrast to your own family's, had always exuded the same amount of comfort, homey-ness, and brought forth the same amount of happy memories.

Trying to ignore the way your hand shook as you reached up to knock on the brown oak door and simultaneously trying to quell the nerves climbing up your throat, you braced yourself for whoever might open it. When a full minute without a response went by, you pressed the doorbell an annoying number of times. A few seconds later, the door swung open and revealed an irritated Quinn Hughes, scowl that almost seemed permanently stuck on his face. It was quickly replaced once he realized it wasn't a random door-to-door salesman, and the corners of his mouth tugged up into a warm, inviting smile.

"Chippy! It's so good to see you! You don't usually knock?"

Quinn pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, and before you even had a chance to react or answer his half-question, you were pulled from his arms and into Jack's instead. If you thought the passing around was finished then, you were sorely mistaken, because the next thing you knew, you were tugged into Trevor Zegras' side (accompanied by a ruffling of your carefully crafted braid), eventually ending your destination in the arms of Cole Caufield. You greeted them all with the same enthusiasm, having missed them just as much.

It was a strange thing, growing up with the same people and continuing to meet at the same place every year. Like clockwork, you instantly fell into your old routines, the same bickering and sibling-like teasing, chirping, and distribution of roles. There was nothing you loved more.

As the reunion in the hall of their house came to an end (only after a good few minutes of you trying to catch up with the lot of them and answering their many questions as well), Jack threw his heavy (non-recovering) arm over your shoulder and started leading you through the house.

"Luke has been moping around all day, even though the guys are here," he told you in a hush-hush tone, pushing the sliding door to the side and stepping out with you, still under his arm, onto the porch.

You were quick to spot Luke, his height setting him apart from the three other guys standing around by the pool. Despite only having met Dylan, the shorter, dark-haired one, you still recognized Ethan and Mark. Luke and you had spent countless hours on FaceTime telling each other about every single thing in your lives, including his best friends from college.

It was Mark who noticed your presence, smacking Dylan on the chest to get his attention. Without thinking, Dylan hit him back, mumbling "ow" under his breath. Mark rolled his eyes and pointed in your direction, the move catching Ethan's attention too.

A mischievous smirk formed on Dylan's face, the only one to recognize you, as he flipped the shade of Luke's cap up and poked his side, sing-songing, "Ooohhh Lukeeyyy, look who's hereeee!"

Your best friend turned, and you found yourself in a scene from a movie, where the guy turns around and suddenly everything is in slow motion. You saw the curls first, how they bounced a little with his quick movement, the way they seemed even curlier than just a few weeks ago. Then came his face, with his kind eyes and prominent nose, the sharp jaw, and his smile. Your favorite smile in the entire world.

It took Luke a few seconds to comprehend what was in front of him: You, here, in Michigan. Then his face split open into an earth-shattering grin at the sight of you, leaving you with no choice but to send him back one of your own. You continued your perusal of his figure, now realizing that he was shirtless, abs on full display, and somehow even more prominent than last summer, no doubt due to the past hockey season.

It was only when Luke said your name in disbelief that you realized you were staring at his stomach, and heat immediately travelled from your neck to your cheeks.

"Surprise!" Jack yelled from behind you, clasping a hand on your shoulder and pushing you towards his little brother. You stumbled a few steps but quickly regained your balance, just in time to hear Ethan's question.

"That's Y/n? Now it makes sense."

Dylan and Mark snickered at their friend, but the words seemed to flip a switch in Luke, who was in the process of closing the space between the two of you with quick steps. He faltered and looked back at his friends, then to you, and you could almost see the war going on inside his head. Stopping a few feet away from you, Luke sent you a small, almost dismissive smile.

Your brows knitted in confusion, the line between them only deepening once he leaned in for a half-hug. Luke and you never did half-hugs, only full-on attacks of affection, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't hurt a little bit that he didn't seem thrilled to see you after so many weeks apart. Truthfully, it had you confused too. Were his texts and tired drawls over late-night FaceTime sessions all just words he didn't truly mean?

"Hey, what are you doing here?" he asked, eyes half on you, half warily eyeing the boys behind him.

"Um, I came early. I thought you wanted me—I wanted to come early," you interrupted yourself, already pulling an invisible guard up. Something was off about him.

"To see me?" Luke didn't sound happy, didn't sound excited or thankful, or whatever silly little feelings you had been feeling inside up until two minutes ago.

"Well, yeah, but Jack and Quinn too, and Annie and Isa are coming later-"

"Cool, cool." Cool? That's all he had to say? You moved your flight up for him and all he could muster was cool? His eyes went distant, and it felt like you'd been slapped as he continued, avoiding looking you in the eyes at all costs. The light breeze you had been thankful for on the way over here suddenly felt too cold, not providing relief from the Michigan heat.

"You're probably wanting to go unpack. We're gonna go on the boat for a bit, but I'll see you around, yeah?" A pat on the arm was all the goodbye you got as he left you standing there on the deck, frozen and unsure of everything you had changed and moved and planned to come here, and if coming here was even a good idea in the first place.

One thing you knew for sure: You were going to kill Jack and Quinn Hughes.

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

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

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

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

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

Meeting your dad's new team.

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

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

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

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

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

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

That definitely wasn't ten minutes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's fine-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm not cool enough."

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

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

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

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

Luke, Simon and Alexander Holtz

Nico, Timo and Jonas Siegenthaler

Jesper, Dougie Hamilton and Brendan Smith

Dawson, Curtis and Erik Haula

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, uh. Sure?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Noted." You love Dawson.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'd never," he smirks back.

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

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

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

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

You pout as it goes through the hole.

He apologizes.

You can tell it's sincere.

Simon chastises him for doing so.

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

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

You both shoot.

Your bean bag lands in the hole.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'd go with the coke."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Here, you'll want this back-"

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

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

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

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

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

"You let me win."

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

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

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

"Eh, I try to be a gentleman."

"Oh reaaally?"

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

"Did it work?" He asks anyway.

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

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

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

Yet, you let hope bloom in your chest.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

family | luke hughes

luke hughes x fem!reader

you feel happy that your boyfriend’s brothers like you

You stood in front of the mirror, carefully applying the final touches of your makeup. The room was filled with the sounds of Luke humming a tune and Jack’s playful teasing. Luke was sprawled out on the bed, flipping through channels on the TV while Jack lounged on the other bed, tossing a hacky sack with his good arm.

“You almost ready?” Luke asked, watching you with such love.

“Almost,”you replied, glancing at him through the mirror with a smile. “Just need to fix my hair.”

Jack smirked and chimed in. “Come on, Y/N, it’s just a game. You don’t need to impress anyone.”

You rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “It’s family night, Jack. I want to look nice.”

Luke sat up and moved behind you, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You always look beautiful,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Ugh, you two are so gross,” Jack groaned, adjusting the sling that held his arm. “Get a room!”

“We have one, and you’re in it,” Luke shot back with a grin, catching the pillow Jack threw at him and tossing it back.

-

Family nights at games were always a highlight for the Hughes clan. Tensions buzzed in the air as you arrived at the Rogers Stadium.

you felt slightly uncomfortable going, but Ellen insisted saying that you’re “practically family” at this point with how long you’ve been with Luke.

Ellen helped you onto the ice while Luke tied his skates. Quinn skated over toward Ellen, giving her a hug, then Jack, Jim, Luke, and finally, you. He pulled you into a hug, which was rare for Quinn but made you feel giddy knowing that your boyfriend’s brother liked you.

Quinn pulled away, giving you a small but genuine smile. “Good to see you, Y/N.”

You returned the smile, feeling warmth spread through you. “Good to see you too, Quinn. Excited for the game?”

Quinn nodded, glancing around at his family. “Yeah, it’s always better with everyone here.”

Luke skated over, slipping his arm around your waist. “You wanna skate around with Dad and me?” he asked. You looked over at Luke. Quinn watched how much warmth radiated from you when you were with Luke; it made him happy.

You nodded, grabbing Luke’s outstretched hand. He gave Quinn a nod and you smiled at Quinn. “Hey, be careful out there,” Quinn called out, knowing how reckless his younger brother could be.

Jim helped you stay steady on the ice when Luke decided it would be funny to pick up the pace, Jim tighten his hold on you as you scolded Luke to slow down.

eventually the family hour was coming to a close and the game getting closer, photographers swarming to get photos of players and their families.

A photographer approached. “Can we get a Hughes family photo?” he asked, camera at the ready.

You instinctively stepped back, giving the Hughes family space for their moment. You watched as Luke, Jack, Ellen, and Jim gathered together, a perfect picture of familial love and support.

Just as the photographer was about to take the picture, Quinn looked up and noticed you standing off to the side. His usual stoic expression softened. “Y/N, get in here,” he called out, his voice carrying a tone of insistence that left no room for argument.

You face scrunched in confusion, he waved you over once more, quickly skating to Luke’s side. Luke wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. The photographer snapped the picture.

after the photo was taken Quinn hugged all of you before y’all were guided off the ice and into your seats.

-

Later, as you left the arena, you felt a warm hand slip into yours. You looked up to see Luke smiling down at you, his eyes filled with love.

Luke cleared his throat . “Quinn doesn’t usually do things like that. He really cares about you.”

you looked up, cheeks heated, “Yeah, I’m really happy. I’m just kinda bummed he just started liking me,” you said, half-joking, half-not.

Jack, walking behind you, snorted. “Quinn liked you since the very first time he met you. He kept on saying, ‘I like how Luke’s girl doesn’t post only when she’s with us. Luke’s girl this and that.’” Jack mocked him in a teasing tone.

“Shut up, dude,” Luke said, laughing. “But as he was saying, Quinn really likes you.” He smiled, kissing your cheek.

Jack obnoxiously gagged. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s get to the car.”

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.

Happy Graduation! Can you do “i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do.” with “you taste like heaven” with Luke Hughes?

For The First Time - L. Hughes

hockey masterlist || g's graduation celly

synopsis: You and Luke have been together for a while, and decide to take the next step in your relationship.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: smut! oral sex (f receiving), piv, virgin reader, cursing, protected sex, small mention of blood after sex (it's normal!)

When you first met Luke Hughes, you thought he was going to be like every other hockey player you had ever met. He was tall, lanky but muscular with unruly curls falling in front of his eyes. He stuck out like a sore thumb in the bar, constantly looking over his shoulder as if someone was going to kick him out. He was a New Jersey Devil, no one would even attempt to kick him out of the bar. Even before actually introducing yourself to him, you had already sized him up and came to a conclusion; he was a young hockey player, he only wanted one thing and you weren’t about to give him the time of day. But, he proved you wrong the moment your brother pulled him over to introduce him to you. 

“And this is Luke!” Nico said, a drunken smile on his face. You already knew you were going to be basically carrying him back to his room. But you weren’t going to stop his celebration, they had just clinched their spot in the play-offs, “This is my little sister!” 

“I know,” Luke nodded, “She’s the team photographer.” 

“So you met!” You shook your head. The word ‘met’ was one way to put it, you had said all of two sentences to him. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Luke,” You said, holding your hand out and shaking his. 

“You too.” 

“Nico!” Jack shouted, “I need you to be my beer pong partner.” 

“Coming!” Nico slurred and turned towards Luke, “She’s off limits and I know where you live, Hughes.” 

“God, Nico,” Heat was rising in your cheeks as you looked at him, “Go! Before Jack starts pouting.” 

Luke nervously chuckled as your brother walked away and over to Jack. You looked back towards your drink as Luke sat down next to you. There was an awkward tension in the air, as he sat close but far from you. The two of you sat in silence, you twirling your straw and Luke scanning the crowd. 

“So, you take pictures for the Devils,” Luke said, “That’s cool.” 

You looked at him, and couldn’t help but giggle. His face fell for a moment, before laughing as well. He had no idea what he was doing or why he was so nervous sitting here and talking to you. Maybe it’s because you were the captain’s younger sister, or maybe because he’s had a crush on you from the moment he saw you. 

“It is cool,” You smiled, “It’s really cool.” 

Ever since that night you and Luke had been inseparable. It was a shock to no one when the two of you announced you were together. Nico and Jack had a bet going on to see how long it would take for you two to tell everyone. Both the brothers approved of your relationship, Nico happy that you had found someone who looked at you like you hung the stars and the moon. And Jack was happy seeing his younger brother look happy, and that he had someone by his side during his rookie season. Jack knew first hand how tough being a rookie can be, and he was happy that Luke had someone he could confide in when it all got to be too much. 

You were currently laying on Luke’s bed, his lips against yours as you made out. He had just come back from spending the summer at the lake, and you in Switzerland. The two of you had only seen each other twice over the summer, you going to the lake for a week and him coming to visit you in Switzerland. But the phone calls, facetimes and texts weren’t enough. You had been wishing for this day all summer. 

“I missed you,” Luke mumbled, his lips on your jaw, “So, so much.” 

“Me too,” You sighed at the feeling, “It’s been too long.” 

Luke’s lips found yours again, as his hips rocked against yours. His hands roamed your body, moving up and down your sides, before one slipped under the hem of your shirt. A warmth grew in your body, a tingle in your core as his hardened cock rubbed against your clothed cunt. Soft moans fell from your lips as you lifted your hips to meet Luke’s. His hand trailed up higher, his thumb rubbing at the band of your bra. It was as if the lust had cleared from your mind, and you were suddenly all too aware of Luke’s body and his hands on you. 

“Stop,” You said, and Luke immediately sat back, looking you over. 

“I’m sorry,” He apologized, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I’m sorry.” 

You nodded your head, “Y-yeah I’m fine it’s just. . . god,” You covered your face with your hands as an embarrassing blush coated your cheeks. Luke was still looking at you with concern as you pulled your hands away, “I’ve never been touched there. . . or anywhere.” 

Luke’s eyebrows furrowed at your words, and then it clicked in his brain, “Oh. . .” He said slowly, “You’re a virgin.” 

“Oh god!” You dramatically exclaimed, “It’s so embarrassing.” 

“No it’s not,” Luke said, laying down next to you on his bed, “It is not embarrassing at all.” 

“Yes,” You looked at him, “It is. I am twenty years old and a virgin.” 

“It’s better than being forty and a virgin,” Luke shrugged and you shot him a look, “Baby, it’s not embarrassing at all. I’m not with you just to get in your pants. It’s okay that you’re a virgin.” 

His words only made some of the unease lift from your belly. It wasn’t that you were waiting for marriage, you just never felt the need to jump into bed with the first man that showed you interest. Sure you had boyfriends before Luke, but you never felt the level of attraction and love as you did for Luke. The moment the other boys found out you were a virgin, they were already blocking your number and running for the hills. 

“You promise?” You asked, holding up your pinky for a pinky promise. 

“Yes, I promise,” Luke said, locking your pinkies together, “And you don’t have to ask me if I promise that it’s okay that you’re a virgin. It's your body. I’m not going to force you into having sex with me. You get to decide that when you’re ready.” 

You nodded your head, letting out a slow breath, “Well, I guess I completely killed the mood.” 

Luke chuckled, “Not totally,” You looked at him as he sat up from the bed, and climbed off of it. He walked over to your side and got down on one knee. 

You sat up quickly,“What are you-” 

“Y/N Hischier,” Luke started, grabbing your hands in his, “You know I love you with all my being. You are the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. . .” He paused for a moment, “Well, second greatest,” You rolled your eyes, “But, till you please make me the happiest man alive and be my date to the season opening gala?” 

“You’re such a dork,” You gently pushed him, laughing, “Of course I’ll go to the season opening gala with you. Who else would you take?” 

“Well Dawson asked-” 

“Over my dead body.” 

— — — 

The season opening gala was one of the biggest events for the Devils. It was when the team got to meet with donors and executive members. It was one of the last moments to come together as a team before the craziness of the season ensued. Several of the wives and girlfriends get together and plan the gala all through the off season. It was almost like a competition on how they could outdo themselves from the year before. You had attended the event in the past with your brother Nico, but this year, you were by Luke’s side. 

“Nervous?” You asked him as you sat in the back of the blacked out BMW. 

“A bit,” Luke sighed, running his hands over his gray plaid dress pants. He looked handsome in his designer suit, Nico had dragged him out to go get his first designer suit and said something about “you’re in the league now, kid”, and his fresh haircut. You had never been a big fan of mullets, until Luke walked through your front door supporting one. 

“Don’t be,” You assured him, grabbing his hand, “They’re gonna love you.” 

Luke looked at you. He had been speechless when you opened the door to your apartment. You had picked out a dark red dress, with a deep v cut that showed off just enough cleavage and a thigh high slit that showed just enough thigh. You wore most of your gold jewelry including the dainty necklace with a gold “L” charm. Your makeup was simple, not wanting to over do it, but made sure to put on lipgloss that would drive Luke wild. 

“Easy for you to say,” Luke scoffed, “You’re the team’s little sister. Everyone loves you.” 

“And now you’re the team’s little brother. Everyone is gonna love you,” You smiled up at him. Luke shared your smile as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your glossy lips. 

The moment you walked into the ballroom, you gasped. The wives and girlfriends had outdone themselves again. The theme this year was “Old Hollywood”, and the room was decorated with various reds, golds and black items. You and Luke stood on the red carpet, your coworkers taking pictures of the players and their dates as they arrived. You felt bad not helping them, but they assured you that they would be okay without you for one night. 

The night went off without a hitch. You and Luke easily found your brother and his, who decided to be each other's dates instead of finding some girl to bring. You guys sat with them throughout the dinner and the speeches from the coach and the GM. Once the dancing portion of the night started, Nico and Jack disappeared, no doubt to find one of your female co-workers to dance with. 

You dragged Luke out to the middle of the dance floor, his hands on your hips while yours draped over his neck as the band played a cover of a pop song. You giggled as Luke twirled you around, your hands resting on his chest. His smile was so bright, it could’ve lit up the whole room. 

“I’m having fun,” Luke said in your ear. 

“Me too,” You said back. You weren’t sure if it was the bit of champagne in your system, or the excitement in the air, but you were feeling bold. You were very aware of Luke’s hands on your hips, and the way his hand had felt on your thigh earlier at the table. 

“Luke,” Your voice wavered a bit as he looked at you. You were about to say something when the band switched their tempo, to play a sensual slow song. The tension in the air seemed to grow, and you swallowed thickly as Luke’s eyes seemed to grow darker. His hands pulled you in closer to him, your chests nearly touching. 

“Luke,” You said again, and he hummed in response, “I. . . I want you.” 

“You have me, baby,” Luke answered, his eyebrows knitting in confusion. 

“No, I. . . I want you, Luke,” You said, putting emphasis on the word, “I’m ready.” 

It took Luke a moment, until the light bulb went off in his head, “A-are you sure? Cause there’s no rush. We don’t have-” 

You cut off his rambling with a soft kiss on his lips, “I want to,” You said again, “I promise I am sure.”

Your heart was pounding as Luke grabbed your face in his hands and brought his lips to yours for a passionate kiss. You both knew that this kiss was different as Luke’s hand wrapped around your waist, and pulled you close to him. Before things could escalate in the center of the ballroom, you pulled back, biting your lip and looking at Luke.

“Oh don’t do that,” Luke teased, pulling your lip away from your teeth, “Drives me fucking insane, I’d take you right here on the floor.” 

You whimpered at his words and rested your hands on his chest, “Take me to bed, Luke.” 

Luke pulled you quickly out of the ballroom, all but running for the elevator. You didn’t even stop and say goodbye to your brother or his, which you guess was a good thing. You didn’t really feel like explaining to them or telling them that you two were leaving early. There was a certain excitement as Luke put his arm around you, as you watched the floor numbers take them up to their room. The second the elevator doors opened, Luke grabbed your body and put you over his shoulder. 

“Luke Warren!” You exclaimed as he playfully smacked your ass. 

Luke opened the hotel room door and walked over to the bed, laying you down gently. He quickly climbed on top of you, putting his knee between your thighs as he leaned down to kiss you. Your hands tangled in his curls, tugging on them slightly. This part, you had done before, making out like teenagers. You felt comfortable doing this, but when you felt Luke’s hand skim up the slit in your dress, you froze a bit. 

“Wait,” You sucked in a breath, and Luke pushed off of you. It took everything in you not to frown at the loss of heat from his body. 

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t-” 

“I want to,” You assured him, placing a hand on his cheek, “It’s. . . you’re going to wrinkle my dress.” 

Luke chuckled, climbing completely off the bed and holding out his hand to you. He pulled you to your feet and you turned so your back was to him. Without even saying, Luke’s hands went to the zipper at your shoulders, carefully sliding it down your body. He leaned forward, placing soft kisses on the back of your neck and shoulders as he slid the straps down your arms. You leaned back into his embrace, letting the fabric of the dress fall to your feet. 

“Luke,” You whined, “It feels good.” 

“Does it?” You could feel his cocky grin against your skin, “If you feel this good from me kissing your neck, just you wait.” You looked over your shoulder at him, his green eyes a shade darker, “Lay down for me, baby.” 

You nodded, laying back on the center of the bed. Luke kicked off his shoes, making quick work of his dress shirt and pants, tossing them across the room. Luke hovered over you, taking in the sight of you under him. You tugged him down, until his lips were on yours. 

Luke’s hips grinded against yours, getting a moan to leave your lips as one of his hands pulled your leg over his hip and the other groped your breast. You had never been touched like this, and it made Luke’s cock stiffen even more, knowing that he was the first one. That you trusted him that much with your virginity. His other hand went around your back, and unclasped your bra. He leaned back on his heels as he gently pulled the bra off your body. Your hands went right away to cover yourself and Luke shook his head. 

“Don’t hide from me, sweetheart, don’t ever hide from me,” Luke said, “You are perfect. So fucking perfect,” Luke leaned down, his tongue swirling around your nipple before sucking it into his mouth. You gasped at the feeling, your hands going to the back of his head to hold him there. He looked up, seeing the blissed out look on your face. His fingers pinched and rolled the nipple of your other breast. 

“Luke, please,” You moaned, thrusting your hips up. You had felt this feeling before when you’d make out. The feeling of wetness and gentle ache between your thighs. You clenched your thighs together to try and relieve some of it but it wasn’t helping. You needed more. You needed Luke. 

“I got you, okay,” Luke assured you, “I’ll give it to you, but I gotta make sure you’re ready first,” You nodded as Luke began kissing down your body. The lower he got, the more you ached for him. His fingers tapped at the top of your black lace panties, and looked up at you. 

“Can I?” 

“Please,” You nodded your head. 

Luke pulled the garment slowly down your legs, before tossing them across the room. Your core was glistening and Luke let out a groan. It was hard for you to not try and cover yourself, especially with how Luke was looking at you. He ran a singular finger through your soaked folds, and you let out a moan. He circled your clit a couple of times in lazy circles, watching as your body withered from the pleasure. 

“Can I touch you here?” He tapped his finger at your opening and you nodded. Slowly, Luke pushed a finger inside of you, feeling you stretch around him. It felt foreign to you, and Luke didn’t start moving his finger until he felt you somewhat relax. He moved his finger in and out, slowly curling it against the spongy spot inside of you. 

The pleasure was nothing like you had felt before. It was beautiful and you were craving more. It felt like butterflies in your stomach, like when you’d go down a large drop on a rollercoaster. Luke watched you, and leaned in between your legs, his tongue licking your clit. 

“Oh!” You exclaimed, your hand going to his curls, “Fuck, yes, Luke.” 

“You taste like heaven,” Luke said from between your legs. His tongue lapped at you like he was a starved man, and you were the first meal he had in weeks. You felt the pleasure build, your legs beginning to tremble against his head. His large hands pushed your thighs down, keeping you open to him as he ate. 

“Luke!” You whined, “I- fuck!” Luke pulled away from your thighs, and you let out an exasperated whine. 

“Oh don’t start whining,” Luke chuckled, “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna take care of you,” All you could do was nod and watch Luke as he climbed off the bed and over to the overnight bag he packed. He pulled out a condom, and discarded his boxers. Your eyes went straight to his dick, and you unabashedly licked your lips at the sight of it. He smirked, noticing your lust filled eyes on him as he opened the condom and rolled it on his shaft. 

Luke crawled back on top of you, placing one of his hands by your head. He grabbed himself in his hand, lining up with your entrance. You took in a deep breath, as you felt the tip of his cock nudging at your cunt. 

“If it hurts or becomes too much, tell me, and I’ll stop. If you don’t want to do this anymore, you tell me to stop.” 

Your hands skimmed up and down his muscular back, as you tilted your head back to look at him, “I want this, Luke.”

Luke placed a kiss on your lips as he slowly pushed himself into you. He let out a sharp breath at the feeling of your warmth and tight walls. You dug your nails into his back, tensing up at the feeling. Luke thrusted slowly, letting himself slip in little by little and then pulling back out. 

“Don’t pull back,” You whimpered, and Luke nodded. He pushed himself about halfway in, and you squeezed his bicep. 

He looked down at her in a panic, and could see the tears pricking in your eyes, "Baby, tell me how it feels. It hurts, doesn't it? I can stop."

"No," You sighed, "It just feels weird. Keep going please, and just. . .  wait for a moment."

Luke nodded and continued to push into your body, then becoming flush with your hips. You both let out gasps, and Luke caressed your cheek. He didn't even care about sex at this point, he was content with staying right here inside of you the whole night. You were keeping him warm and squeezing him just right. But then he felt you start to wiggle underneath him, moving your hips to try and get some friction.

"Move," You said softly, "Please."

"I'm going slow," Luke said, "I'll fuck you hard and fast another day. But I want to take my time."

You nodded and pressed your lips to his collarbone as he slowly drug his hips back, thrusting in and out of you. Your hands moved up his back and tangled in his hair. Grunts and moans left your mouths and mixed together in the air. Luke grabbed your thigh and hooked it over his hip, to reach a new angle. You closed your eyes as you felt the intense feeling in your lower body.

“Fuck,” Luke groaned, his hand gripping your thigh, “I love that no one else has seen you like this,” He was placing kissing on your neck, right below your ear, “That no one else has felt you before, been inside you.” 

“Luke,” You cried, feeling the pressure grow and grow. 

“They don’t get to have you, but I do,” Luke nipped at your neck. 

Everything felt so good from the way your body felt below his, to the way he seemed to hit all the right spots. The impending orgasms rose in your bodies and Luke smashed his lips to yours, swallowing your moans. Luke felt the rubber band in his stomach snap, and himself spilling into the condom. You could feel the warmth fill your body and Luke tried hard to not let his body collapse on top of you.

"Fuck," Luke moaned out, "I'm so sorry. I usually don't-" you cut him off with a kiss, and held his face in your hands.

"It was perfect," you said and Luke leaned his forehead against yours.

"Want to take a bath," Luke proposed and you nodded, "I'm going to pull out now, okay." Luke easily moved his hips back and you whined at the feeling, "Does it hurt?"

"Yeah," you answered, "It's okay."

Luke nodded and pulled back the blankets enough for him to slip out of bed. He could see the tiniest bit of blood on your thighs.

"Lay right there, I'll be back," Luke said, and went to the bathroom. He threw away the condom, and cleaned himself up. He slipped his boxers back on and grabbed a washcloth to clean you up. You were tapping your fingers on your tummy when Luke came back. You smiled up at him, as he kneeled between your thighs and cleaned you up. You hissed as the rough washcloth came in contact with your core.

"Sensitive?" Luke asked.

"Yes," You said, "D-Did I bleed?"

"A bit," Luke answered and kissed your cheek, "It's normal. Nothing to worry about, sweets. Do you want to get dressed?"

“No,” You shook your head, feeling comfortable laying naked on the soft sheets. 

"Get a snack and some water. I'll start the bath," Luke said, kissing your cheek. 

"I love you,” You said, placing a hand on his cheek before he could walk away. 

Luke smiled that half smile that made you weak in the knees, “I love you too.”

a/n: what do you guys want to see more of? blurbs, one shots, series, interactive series, insta edits? let me know!! :) (I am planning on a series hopefully soon)