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"Friends with feelings" - Luke Hughes x Reader
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Summary: In which forgetting a glass of water before bed might just be the best thing you've ever done. Based on this blurb.
Warnings: Kissing, a lil ass grabbing, alludes to self-pleasuring, mentions of abs, nipples and pretty curls.
A/N: Hi! It's been a while since I've written a longer fic (it's 5.5K words, that's a lot for me HAHA) like this, and I would be sososososo very appreciative of any feedback at all<3 Also, I've written Luke slightly differently than I usually do, a little bit more cocky and confident and probably a bit more like how he'd be with his actual friends/ a girl he's liked for a while and is close with, but anywassss, I hope you enjoy! __________________________
Usually, you like to think you're a person with little to no regrets, always finding a way to appreciate the memory or use the situation as a valuable life lesson.
Not bothering to go downstairs and get a glass of water before you got into the air mattress on the floor next to Jess, your best friend and designated roommate for the week, though? That's probably the biggest regret of your life. Or, at least that's how it feels when you wake up at two-thirty in the morning, mouth dryer than the Sahara (the effect of a few too many beers and cups of Pink Whitney trying to exit your system, no doubt). The last two days have mostly consisted of varying types of drinking; day drinking, night drinking, drinking games, you name it, but that also always seems to be the case when your college friend group meets up over summer break.
This year, Luke Hughes, despite not actively being in college anymore but still a valued member of the friend group, has so graciously been allowed to borrow his big brothers' lake house for the week, saving your group money on an Airbnb and the struggle of finding something big enough to accommodate ten people. Despite not having enough rooms for everyone to get their own (hence the air mattress and the sharing of a room with four girls), the lake house is by far better than whatever cramped shoebox of a house Mark and Ethan managed to book you into last year.
Truth be told, you were thankful for Luke even asking his brothers in the first place, especially since you had been walking around with a slight fear of not getting to see him this summer, considering the whole NHL-Star-Rookie-Thing. You and Luke had always had a weird thing going on, good friends, maybe slightly more but also...not?
 The youngest Hughes had never made a move on you, despite people telling you on multiple occasions that he "definitely has a thing for you" and that "it's obvious you like each other". And sure, you hadn't chanced your luck either, too worried about a possible rejection, that people were overanalyzing his feelings and it all would end up one awkward mess you would then have to navigate on top of your broken heart and bruised ego.
So, Luke and you stayed just friends until his inevitable departure to the big league, your daily coffee meetups now replaced by the occasional call or Facetime.
 Despite the inconsistent calls, your string of texts never seemed to waiver.
 Luke telling you about the smallest, seemingly insignificant, updates in his life, you complaining about school and the dad-joke competitions, all came together to silence the voice inside your head yelling at you that he'd forget you into nothing more than the faintest of whispers.
Nevertheless, it's nice to see him again, to hear his voice and his laugh, and to see his smile in real life and not through a tiny pixelated screen. The way you had fallen straight back into your old rhythm is nice too, if you're being honest.
Combined with the presence of your other most precious friends, the amazing weather and having the big lake house all to yourselves, you can't be happier about how great this summer is going.
Well, except for one teeny, tiny, insignificant thing: seeing him again made you realise your feelings for him hadn't disappeared one singular bit, as you have otherwise spent months trying to convince yourself and your friends off. Every touch, laugh, look into his eyes and comments from your friends about how "close the two of you look" disguised as friendly banter throws you off your game, making you nervous and self-conscious about how much your feelings are showing and if he notices. You're still debating with yourself if you want him to or not.
But that is also a lot of deep thoughts considering the time of the night, and as five minutes of laying wide awake turn into ten (mainly contemplating the pros and cons of getting up), you finally decide to do something about your predicament. You're hardly going to be able to fall back asleep now anyway, the dryness of your mouth combined with the constant quiet psst of the air slowly leaking out of the mattress beneath you and thoughts of your crush coming together in a lovely way of torture you like to call sleep deprivation.
Pushing the duvet aside and trying to make the least amount of noise as you rise, you decide to forgo the effort of putting any additional clothing on besides your oversized t-shirt and panties (because, really, who would be up at this hour?) and walk on your tippy toes towards the door. Slow, slow, slowly you turn the golden knob, freezing instantly when a loud click echoes throughout the otherwise dead silent room.
"Where are you going?" Jess mumbles, face pressed into her pillow, making the voice slightly incoherent.
"Water," you whisper back, hoping to not wake any of your other friends, could you help it. A brief pause leaves you wondering if Jess is even actually awake, but then her sheets rustle and she hums. After a few seconds, a mumble meant to sound like Bring me some comes from her general direction, your best friend no doubt already crossing back over the border to dreamland before the sentence is fully out. You nod in confirmation, not sure why considering she can't see you in the dark, and once more move slowly and quietly when opening the door.
The feeling of success from not waking anyone else doesn't last long, though, replaced by remorse of not at least finding some socks. Silently cursing the Hughes Brothers and trying not to yelp as your feet leave the warm fluffy comfort of the guest bedroom and are instead met by the cold hardwood floor of the hallway, you try to navigate your way to the kitchen through the still-unfamiliar house.
 Despite it being your second night here, the layout of the upstairs interior still confuses you, even more so in the dark, and it takes you a while longer than it would in daylight to find the correct staircase. Which, by the way, seems a ridiculous thing to even have. What house, what people need not one, not two, but three whole staircases? It's like those idiots (affectionate) want their guests to get lost.
 You're still grumbling about the absurd amount of staircases when you turn the corner into the huge eat-in kitchen, foregoing turning on the lights, and your faux annoyance only fueled by the water glasses of course having to reside in the top cabinet. The poor brothers receive a string of new curses.
Ever the problem solver, you swing one leg over the white marble counter, plant both hands on the cold stone, pray the limited hours in the gym working on your biceps could just be a little help, and count to three before hoisting yourself onto the counter. With it taking far more effort than you're proud of, your knees hit the marble, the wood of the beige cabinets scratching against your palms as they close around it for balance. So far so good.
 Despite a fair amount of wobbling, you manage to grab a glass, choosing the one looking most like it will help bring your ice-cold-water-chug-in-the-middle-of-the-night desires to life.
 "I was planning on asking if you need help, but this is far more amusing to watch," a voice brings you out of your deep concentration on your mission, startling you and having your neck turning so fast a whiplash almost sounds. Your mouth drops open, eyes going wide and cheeks heating up faster than the new induction stove your mom was recently raving about to you.
Because there Luke stands, not only proving your nonchalant dismissal of anyone being awake wrong but also making you incredibly aware of a few things you'd like to change at this very moment. Like the fact you're currently perched on top of not his, but his brothers' marble counter, gripping a glass like it's a precious painting stolen from a gallery. Or maybe like how his stare, amused and holding your own, ever so often dipping down a few inches, reminds you how you aren't wearing pants. With that realisation, you drop your arms, hoping the t-shirt is long enough to provide you with some sort of modesty. A sort of half-smirk paints his lovely face, eyes shining with amusement, as he leans against the archway into the kitchen.
Mouth opening and closing a few times, you try your best to come up with something witty, anything to not let it show how his mere presence in the room affects you - or how you feel a little guilty for sneaking around in the middle of the night, despite his instance of make yourselves at home!
"How long have you been standing there?" you land on instead.
 A hint of accusation laces your words like he's the one who should be ashamed in this situation.
Luke cocks his head to one side, sleep-riddled messy curls bouncing a little at the motion, drawing your attention to them and the way you would really, truly, like to run your fingers through them. They've grown to the perfect length since he sent you a picture of the fresh cut earlier this summer, still holding the mullet form but longer overall, only adding to his attractiveness.
 "Long enough to watch you calculate how to climb the counter," you jump at his words, not having noticed how he's slowly been stalking towards you, now across from you, leaning against the island parallel to the counter you still reside on. Crossing his arms over his chest, Luke carefully watches as you gently place the glass down next to you like this is the most intriguing yet amusing thing he's seen in a while. The remaining steps of the plan don't involve accidentally splintering a glass into tiny little pieces, so you're playing it safe, okay?
Deciding to ignore him, you focus on the next task at hand: getting off the counter. Or, at least turning around. You sorta manage to do it without much damage, the only victim a small pot with salt falling over after contact with your knee, leaving a trail of the white mineral on the blank surface.
"Not helping a damsel in distress isn't very gentlemanly of you," you say matter-of-factly once you've managed to manoeuvre around on the limited space, finally facing him without having to turn your neck in an uncomfortable direction.
 Luke simply shrugs at your words, his chain, one you gifted him, you realise with gleeful pleasure, catches in the moonlight shining through the window, in return making your breath catch in your throat. It has you questioning if he's been wearing it since Christmas when you gave it to him, or if he just recently thought to put it on. Maybe to make you think he enjoys the present, wearing it in your presence and all. Or perhaps, it's been a permanent fixture around his neck since the cold months?
 Could the silver jewellery be joining him at games? On road trips, in the shower, in his bed- electricity shoots through your mind as it wanders too far, conjuring up images of him in bed, but soon turning sour at the thought of him sharing those sheets. The green monster inside you jolts awake, clawing at its bars, begging to be let out and riot at the thought of him with another girl. Somehow, some way, you manage to silence it, throw on some extra locks and throw away the keys.
If Luke wants to sleep with other girls, he can. Now, that's a bitter pill to swallow, but nevertheless, the reality is that he can do anything he wants. After all, he isn't yours.
 He could be, Holden the Hope whispers, caressing your mind with lovely images of shared confessions of love, kisses of adoration and tangling in sheets.
 Don't let flowers bloom in the false spring, Reese the Realism scolds, burning the images with a snap of her fingers.
"You're not a damsel," he finally says, clearing his throat like the words hurt him to sound out. Molten eyes meet yours, so green and distracting that you don't even notice yourself leaning forward, less than a centimetre, but enough to make the fun little thing called gravity suddenly decide it wants to play. Fate, or maybe just pure clumsiness, seemingly joins in, giving you the final push, and before you know it, your arms are flailing, your body unable to stop the descent towards the floor.
Strong arms move quickly, engulfing your waist and bringing you to a stop, steadying you against the counter with the added press of a body against yours. "Just in distress then?" your voice comes out breathy and unsteady, craning your neck to look up at him, the closeness of your bodies rendering you unable to do anything else if you want to see the self-satisfied smirk on his face, obviously proud of his heroic action and quick reflexes (thank you, hockey).
 And you do, gosh do you want to stare at any and all expression he makes for the rest of his, and your, life. "You had it under control," he drawls, noticing your body shaking at the same time you do. His first instinct seems to be to tighten his arms around you, muscles twitching at the motion. You hope your peeking isn't noticeable.
Instead of thirsting over your friend's arms, you try to focus on not shaking (the near-fall may have shaken you a bit more than you'll willingly admit), grounding yourself in the feel of the cold tile beneath your feet, toes scrunching to limit the contact. On the other hand, you can't help basking in the way Luke's body seems ten degrees hotter than yours, engulfing your body and sending heat throughout it- okay, maybe that isn't the best thing to focus on either.
"Yeah, until I fell."  "Can't all be perfect."
A smile threatens to break free on your lips at the lighthearted banter returning to your conversation, willing you out of your Luke-induced haze and giving you enough strength to push him away with a soft palm flat in the square centre of his chest. Mentally, push him away, that is. Physically, it would have been impossible without his compliance.
A funny look flashes briefly across his sharp face, something looking a lot like disappointment, but the likelihood of you misjudging that is high. The mop of curls dances once more as he shakes his head, letting that gorgeous lopsided grin out of its box and completely disarming you. The executive board of directors in your brain forces you to look away.
"Why are you up, anyways?"
 The inquiry brings you back to your briefly forgotten quest, having you spring into action, hurriedly turning to locate the abandoned glass. Luke snickers at your eagerness but stays silent, awaiting your answer.
"Getting water, overthinking," you explain, keeping it vague, as you turn the tap to cold and wait for it to forget its previously warm preference. The stark sound of running water fills the otherwise quiet kitchen and even quieter house, and you internally wince, hoping it doesn't wake anyone up. You'd be lying if you said that hope doesn't stem from a bit of selfishness, quite like the way this little meet between Luke and you is panning out. Like a little pocket in time, it's almost as if anything goes, anything can be said and maybe, just maybe, anything can be done.
"You?" You interrupt him just before he opens his pouty mouth and asks just what you're overthinking exactly.
 So, maybe not everything can be said, you think, suddenly finding yourself not fully prepared to take the embarrassment of telling him he's a part of the whole not-sleeping thing.
Luke's eyes flicker away as you bring the now-filled glass to your lips, fixating on a spot above your head, suddenly very interested in the cabinet you have yet to close. A few seconds pass before he deems it safe to look at you once more (criteria? unknown) and answers your inquiry.
"Was wondering why a robber would be yelping each time they take a step down the hallway, needed to see I would have to defend the house," he teases, immediately bringing a pout to your face and getting you defensive. Placing the glass back down on the counter with a thump, you close the distance between you and press your pointer finger into the middle of his chest.
"Hey, you guys keep this house concerningly cold!"
 Luke catches your hand in his before your finger can do any more damage to his chest, all amusement flickering out of his eyes as quickly as a gust of wind passing by a fickle flame.
"Yeah..." he trails off, eyes moving downwards, like something's drawing his gaze in and he can't control it the moving of his pupils.
Suddenly, you find yourself acutely aware of the way your nipples have hardened from the low temperature, now straining against the thin material of your sleep shirt and you silently beg, plead and pray like a sinner about to enter hell, that he doesn't notice. Okay, who are you kidding here, he definitely does, he's practically making eye contact with them, but to his credit, though, it looks like he's trying really hard not to. Jaw clenching and unclenching, he almost manages to tear his eyes away each time he tries.
 Hopefully, he thinks it's just from the cold.
If you guys could stop standing attention just because he keeps looking, that would be great, you mentally scold, choosing not to dwell too hard on the fact that A) you're scolding your nipples and B) how Luke can't stop staring.
You decide it means nothing, part B, at least, (you should probably deal with the slightly concerning part A), because Luke is merely a boy and honestly, you should probably be concerned if he didn't stare. Yet, a tiny flicker of hope blooms in your chest, fueled even more so by the way he clears his throat a few too many times to be casual and lets go of your hand to drag his own over his face.
 Your wrist burns from where he held it, branded by him and his touch and god do you wish you could feel that brand everywhere.
Not sure where to go from here, you decide to put him out of his apparent misery and make light of the situation once more.
He almost beats you to talking, though, and your voices blend as you ask, "Well, you've established I'm not out to rob you. Going back to bed?" at the same time Luke asks "This my shirt?"
 You didn't realise it was his, or maybe you did and you didn't realise he would notice the plain fabric once belonging to him. You stole it way back at one of your first visits to his dorm.
"Don't think I can sleep now." "Yes."
Time stops and words seem to have different meanings, the lightheartedness you went for not having the desired effect, only adding to the tension slowly building between you, leaving the air hot and heavy. You're not sure what the change is this summer, and if your mind wasn't currently clouded and preoccupied with having him so close and looking at you like that, you'd probably reason your way into it being the fact you had been a part for months. Seeing him again has surely unlocked a part of your heart, the part wanting to throw caution to the wind and finally feel what it would be like to not be just friends. Seemingly, hopefully, a similar part has been unlocked in Luke's as well.
Summer being his best season didn't help your case either. Luke always looks more relaxed in the warmer months, healthier and more vibrant, the tan he so quickly manages to obtain has you wanting to lick him all over, the sun practically dripping from his skin and his curls, your favourite curls, looking their best. You never fail to notice his happiness in the off-season either. Sure, he loves hockey and he loves playing it all season, you know that, but he's also confessed to you on multiple occasions that the pressure gets to him, residing just under his skin like a rash never quite going away.
Here, at his brothers' lake house, surrounded by his favourite people, he laughs more, smiles more and reminds you more of the boy you knew in those very first few months of your college career. Summer Luke is the real Luke, your Luke and the Luke you so desperately want to pull close and kiss silly.
Yet, it's also the Luke in front of you now, confident and with all the power in his hand, as he, at once, brings you back to your previous question and both of your apparent dilemmas of not being able to sleep.
"I'd challenge you to a game of ping pong to get us tired, but you tend to get loud when you get worked up."
 White, hot flashes of embarrassment fill you up from the inside out, wondering if he's alluding to yesterday's weak moment of self-pleasure. You had allowed yourself it after seeing him shirtless on the boat wakeboarding, the motions making his hard abs twist and turn deliciously, droplets caressing his stomach and- "losing, I mean..." he clarifies, the smirk on his face making a return, hinting that he may or may not know exactly where your mind went just then. He had definitely heard.
Seemingly deciding to cut you some slack, Luke offers you an out. "What do you usually do when you can't sleep?"
 It doesn't help, not at all, because now you're thinking of your usual way of tiring yourself out, and that looks a lot like what he apparently heard you doing last night. The pink on your cheeks deepens to a healthy red and Luke no doubt notices, judging by the small grin appearing on his face. You huff out a nervous laugh, one that quickly dies out as a yawn stretches over Luke's face. He wipes it off, or at least tries to, by bringing a hand to his mouth. The motion makes his shirt rise the tiniest of bits, just as you open your mouth to speak.
"Usually I'll try to distract myself, try to get my brain to stop working overtime," you say, eyes finding a life of their own, drifting down to the peak of skin between his plaid pyjama pants and white t-shirt. That would make for a nice distraction.
"Are you still drunk?" your face scrunches up in confusion at his words, the change of subject catching you off guard. Turning your head, you search his face with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out his angle. "No, it wore off a few hours ag- oh," you cut yourself off as the counter hits the top of your ass, not even having noticed Luke backing you into it until he's right there. Caged in, you once more have to tilt your head to stare at his pretty face. The intense look he's giving you leaves you stumped, lips parting slightly- maybe in a silent invitation. At this point, your brain has switched off, his closeness and the way his cologne overpowers your senses leaving you completely at his mercy.
The little people in your head seem to have taken over your actions, leading you like a puppet on a string and you don't mind. Not when Luke moves his hand to rest on your hip and the other on the column of your throat and they allow him.
Not when they move your hands to rest on his broad chest, his heart pounding against your hands and letting you know he isn't as unaffected as he appears.
Not when he leans down and hovers over your lips and they don't make you pull away. Luke's hot breath mingles with yours and you can almost feel the way he's holding himself back, letting you decide if you want this. In the end, you regain control from your puppeteers, rising to your tiptoes, just that last bit needed, and meet Luke's soft lips.
It's like the restraint he's been having over himself snaps, the hand on your hip tightening and bringing you close, close, closer until he's got you completely caged between him and the counter. You get braver too, your fingers finding the curls you've been so desperate to touch. As you tug ever so slightly, Luke lets out a gasp and you can't help but use the opportunity to slide your tongue into his mouth.  
A thousand tiny explosions go off in your body, angels sing and the sun comes out behind the dark clouds. Too cheesy? Perhaps, but it’s like your world is clear again, your focus turning sharp and honing in on Luke, his touch (soft, urgent, guiding), his taste (mint, did he brush his teeth before coming down here?) and the delicious way his teeth are tugging on your lower lip.  “Been waiting…so…long,” breathy words tumble out through breathy kisses, Luke's confession spreading warmth throughout your whole body. Sure, you are putting two and two together just from the heavy make-out session you’re currently partaking in, but either way, it’s nice to know that it isn’t just you who has been harbouring the very same desire. 
Taking you by surprise, Luke grabs ahold of your shirt and in one swift motion lifts you onto the countertop so you’re both in a more comfortable position. His big hand slides up your thigh and under your shirt, stopping just over your panties. Hesitantly, Luke pulls away from your lips to look you in the eye, removing his other hand from your waist in favour of running it through his hair. The messy curls fall all over the place, even though he tries to shake them out, and you can’t help but grin at the fact that you messed them up.
Reaching behind you to rest his hand on the counter, effectively caging you in, Luke opens his mouth to no doubt ask for permission to move his hand higher. The words yes, god yes are on the tip of your tongue, but instead of sticking to the script, Luke yelps out instead. His eyes go wide, quickly shooting to his hand beside you before an annoyed expression overtakes his face.
"Salt," he mumbles into your lips, already on them again like he just can’t help himself. Reaching under your shirt, you guide his hand higher, silently letting him know it’s okay. Your whole body feels on fire with the way he’s touching you, thumb swiping over your underboob, goosebumps erupting in its wake. If you could stay like this forever, you would, with no hesitation. It feels like you’re sinking, deeper and deeper into the abyss that is Luke Hughes. The harness is off and you’re barrelling straight to the bottom with no regard for your safety. But that’s just the thing; you feel safe. So very safe with the way Luke is touching you, kissing you and wordlessly assuring you that he’s got you. Forever, if that’s the case.
Unfortunately, the universe isn’t a fan of forever. Or at least, it just has a very poor sense of humour. Because just as you’re about to spread your legs a little more, let Luke in a little closer, the kitchen door bangs open. Two drunk idiots, otherwise known as your friends, tumble inside, arms around each other holding on for dear life, one more gone than the other. You would later learn they had been out and about crashing all the nearby house parties.
“Dude, I so could have taken him- what the fUCK?” Mark screeches when he notices Luke and you, who just barely manage to tear your lips apart before Ethan straightens himself up and turns in your direction. 
And so a period of awkward silence and confused glances begins. Mark and Ethan are not quite sober enough to put the evidence presented before them together, their brows drawn together in funny angles. Mark lifts his hand and motions between you and the boy still pressed to you, now just with his back facing you. Probably to spare your friends from seeing you in just your panties, you realise and just like that, your heart turns to mush. You sneak your hands around his waist and prop your head up on his shoulder. Luke leans back into you, hands going to your knees, as he levels Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum with a warning look. 
Never one to let his friends off easy, though, Ethan flashes a megawatt grin before copying Mark’s actions.  “What’s going on here?” 
“Late night snack.” “Luke had something in his eye.”
Silence. Luke’s hands squeeze your knees, you press your eyes closed. Surely they would catch on.
Then, a slow nod from a contemplative-looking Mark and a slap to Ethan’s chest as the blonde’s too-talkative mouth starts to open once more. “Sure, have a good night, guys!” Mark rushes out, a firm hand on Ethan’s shoulder guiding his friend out of the kitchen and up the stairs to their room. There’s no way Mark believed that lie (your suspicions would later be confirmed when you walk past their room and hear him explain how it “would make no sense since the lights were off”) but as Luke lets out a deep sigh and turns around, you can’t find it in you to care. 
The second he’s fully facing you again, his hands come up to rest on either side of your head, pressing a soft, much sweeter and slower, kiss to your awaiting lips. As he pulls back, a different Luke stands before you, all traces of his previous confidence leaving him, nervousness taking over as he brings a hand up to the back of his neck. Your favourite crooked smile returns, but this time filled with awkwardness and uncertainty. 
“Would you, um- Would you want to go out with me? Tomorrow, maybe? Or later today, I guess, considering the time and all-”
“Yes, god yes,” You say, finally getting the chance to voice the words, immediately getting flashbacks to a mere ten minutes ago when they had been on the tip of your tongue and his hand had been under your shirt. At your agreement, confident Luke returns, not wasting any time before he’s diving back in for your lips.
Half an hour later, you’re standing in your bedroom, leaning up against the door. Touching your fingers to your lips, no doubt a dazed expression on your face, you will your heart to stop galloping like a thousand wild horses. Maybe, if you pinched yourself- nope that just hurt. Luke kissing you in the kitchen hadn’t been a dream and neither had it been when he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and then your forehead, only a mere minutes ago. You had said goodnight with the promise of seeing him when you’re both well rested. When you asked him about the upcoming date, he only smiled and told you it was a surprise. You do not doubt that the speculation will keep you up for at least another few hours. Or perhaps that will have more to do with you replaying every kiss and touch over and over in your head.
“Did you get me water?” A voice croaks out in the darkness, duvets and sheets shifting loudly in the silence. Water, Jess. You had completely forgotten. 
"Shit, I’ll be right back," you promise, this time determined not to get swept up in stolen kisses.
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eleutherafairy · 1 day
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luke being so in love with the new media girl at the devs? she was the media girl from umich so she known him for awhile and they are friends and she always got him out of media, and then this season she got an offer to join the nj devils media team, and jack is like holy shit my baby brothers in love and maybe like finally asked her out after pinning after her for three years
THE "i love media" SOCIAL GIRL & THE "i hate media" HOCKEY BOY — luke hughes
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SUMMARY! in which luke is in love with the media girl who works for the devils  
INVOLVED! luke x reader 
WARNINGS! N/A
BEFORE YOU START! don’t know how the hughes act irl this is just an imagination!
extra! this is part 1 of a new series!!! lmk what you guys want to see :)
find my masterlist → here!
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You and Luke had known each other since your second year at UMich. You were a year older, double-majoring in social media marketing and statistics. You were lucky enough to work with the UMich hockey team as a social media manager where you basically spent your time as a babysitter– trying to get the attention of child-like boys to do silly tiktoks and answer questions. It was probably your favorite past-time and you wouldn’t change it for the world. 
You and Luke had met each other at some party during the summer, marking the beginning of the semester and Luke had approached you. You were in a random corner of the house and he made a joke about you looked like you had a fuck you sign on your forehead.
Sooner or later, you found out that he was on the hockey team and you guys quickly created a bond. You loved to pick on Luke whenever you had the chance, just because he would turn so flustered and red whenever you asked him a question– whether it was unserious or not.
A year or so passed and you graduated two semesters early while Luke went off to play for the Devils with his brother. You guys never stopped talking– relying on your phone calls and facetimes to keep your friendship going. You always looked forward to when Luke would call you randomly throughout the day and you would always answer, even if you were busy studying for midterms or exams. 
Now, Luke was on his way to pick you up from the airport. You hadn’t told him that you were actually moving here. All you told him was that you wanted to come visit and he paid for your ticket and invited you to stay in his apartment with him and Jack (you turned him down, he was really upset about it).
You stood impatiently at the pick-up area, waiting for Luke’s jeep to come round the corner. As you looked up from your phone, you saw Luke’s car swing around the corner and stop in front of you. You felt your excitement as he stepped out of his car and came running to give you a hug.
“Holy shit, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you in person,” Luke said, wrapping his arms around you.
“I know, Lukey,” you replied back. “I’m so sick of seeing your face through the screen.”
He held the two of you guys in an embrace until the car behind him started honking his horn. The two of you rushed to the car and Luke shoved all your suitcases in.
“Why did you bring so much luggage?” Luke asked, getting into the driver’s seat.
“I’m just a girl,” you said shrugging. “Plus, I just have a few things to do while I’m here,” you continued.
“What things?” 
“You know, just some media shoots and whatever,” you said absentmindedly. “I have a few opportunities in the New York area.”
“That’s big, y/n. Why didn’t you tell me anything?”
“I didn’t want to make it a big deal until it was actually set in cement,” you said, shrugging. 
You could feel the urge to just tell Luke the truth, but Jack had convinced you that this would be the biggest surprise ever. So, for now, you were going to keep it a surprise from him. 
Luke dropped begrudgingly dropped off at your apartment– he had spent the whole drive trying to convince you to stay with him and Jack instead. You almost caved, but you continued to tell the pleading boy that you were only a street down from his own apartment and that you would come later on in the day.
- - - 
It was currently four in the afternoon and you felt your nerves as you fiddled around with your camera settings. It was your first day working with the Devils and your first job out of college. You were called to come at five to photograph the guys during prior to their arrival to the arena. Chugging down the rest of your energy drink, you headed down to catch your Uber to the arena. You would be photographing their arrival. 
Luke had invited you to watch tonight’s game– he got you tickets and everything, and you had to decline, telling him that you made plans for tonight. 
Was he upset? Yes. Did he try to convince you with his puppy eyes to watch? Yes.
You called Jack right away after that conversation with Luke and he told you to just hold it in until tonight because apparently Jack has something to surprise him.
Arriving at the arena, you took your place at the entry way to the team room and you adjusted your camera settings, making sure that your camera was well suited for the lighting in the room. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and you quickly went to look at it.
── ★
lukey boy: Heading to the arena rn… are you sure you can’t make it :( 
you: sorry lukey… i’ll be there for the next one, promise
lukey boy: You better be. Still down for dinner tonight?
you: ermm… we might have to raincheck
lukey boy: :////////
you: have a good game, lukey. will be watching!!!
── ★
You tossed your phone back into your pocket, getting ready for the arrival of the boys. The first wave of boys came in, smiling as they made time to introduce themselves to you.
“Y/n?” Nico asked, coming to shake your hand.
“That’s kind of freaky you know my name,” you said, shooting him a weird look.
“Luke doesn’t shut up about you,” Nico said, shrugging. “He also didn’t tell me that you would be working with us this season,” he continued, shooting me a look.
“He doesn’t know,” you said, nonchalantly. “Jack is the only one who knows.”
“Well, that’s exciting. Nice to finally meet you.”
You shot the man a smile as you continued to photograph the trickling players coming down the hall.
Soon enough, you saw Jack come through the doors and shot me a smile, grabbing me a good picture for all the Jack girlies. 
“He got caught up in an interview, but he should be coming in like two minutes,” Jack said, coming to give me a hug.
“Hey, Jacky,” you said, giving him a wide smile. 
“I can’t believe you’re actually here,” Jack said, “I really though you finally being here would lessen Luke’s yapping, but somehow it has increased and I didn’t know that was possible.”
“What do you mean?” You asked, cocking your head.
“Nothing,” Jack said, coughing nervously.
Your eyes peered to the door that had just opened.
“Jack get the fuck out of my way,” you muttered, pointing the camera at the door.
You saw Luke coming down the hallway, his face glued to his phone.
Jack mumbled under his breath before calling Luke’s name.
Your camera caught Luke’s expression change from confusion to pure happiness as he spotted you and his face lit up.
“Y/n?” Luke asked, coming towards you with a wide smile.
“Hey, Lukey.”
“You’re telling me that your new media job is working with us?” Luke said, excitement engulfing his face.
“You’re stuck with me and my stupid questions for a bit longer, Luke,” you said, laughing.
“You’re gonna be watching?”
“Yeah,” you said, lifting your camera. “Taking cool pics like before, too.” 
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Luke said, giving you a quick hug before hitting his brother.
“You knew and you didn’t tell me?” He said to Jack.
Jack shrugged as he shot me a smile. “I told her not to tell you.”
“Wait does that mean, you’re moving here permanently?” Luke asked, his excitement now running rampant.
You gave him a nod before he literally started trembling with excitement.
“Okay calm down, Lukey,” you said, laughing. “You got a game to win.”
Luke smiled at you once more before making his way into the player’s room.
“He’s going to have a hell of a game,” Jack said to you.
“Hm??”
“He’s going to have a hell of a game because you’re here,” Jack said once more.
“He better or else I might take up the Islanders offer instead,” you said, jokingly.
“Shut up, y/n,” Jack said, lightly pushing you. “I’m so glad you’re here. Luke hasn’t shut up ever since he bought your ticket four months ago. He’s glad that his favorite girl is finally here to watch him.”
“Favorite girl is pushing it,” you told the older Hughes, giving him a look of confusion.
“You really don’t know, huh?” Jack asked.
“Spit it out, idiot,” You said, looking down at your phone to check the time. “Your time is running low.”
“You’re telling me, idiot. Michigan to Jersey, huh? Just know, he hasn’t shut up about you since that first night in Michigan,” Jack said shrugging as he walked off, giving you a smile.
That first night in Michigan.
Luke’s first night at the University of Michigan. The first time Luke met you.
You shrugged off the funny feeling you felt before uploading the pictures from your camera to your phone. Scrolling through the pictures, you picked around five guys to post on the Instagram. You posted the pictures and updated the story before scrolling through the comments.
── ★
njdevils: Boys on the move
comments:
fan1: everyone say thank you admin
njdevils: you’re welcome :)
fan2: Luke looks so excited to see the camera for once
fan3: the Luke girls are eating rn because why does Luke look soooo good
fan4: bro whoever is behind the camera… luke might be in love with u because HE IS CHEESING
fan5: media admin woman we love u 
── ★
You laughed as you read some of the comments of the post. Walking past the player’s room, you were stopped as you heard commotion behind you.
“Y/n.”
You turned around to see Luke coming out of the room with his tuxedo jacket already off. You shot him a confused look.
“Luke?”
“Am I not gonna get a good luck?”
“I already texted you good luck, dummy,” you said, crossing your hands over your chest.
“It’s not the same,” he said, giving you the famous Hughes pout.
“Good luck, Luke,” I’ll see you tomorrow.
“Tomorrow?” Luke asked, pouting once more. “We’re not getting dinner?”
“Luke you act like you aren’t going to come to my apartment tomorrow morning for breakfast. Uninvited by the way. I have things to do tonight. I’m just here until the first period so put on a show for me, okay.”
“Okay, but you’re literally my best friend,” Luke said, whining. “I haven’t seen you in person for almost six months and I’ve barely seen you even when you’re here. It’s not fair.”
“Clingy ass,” you muttered before waving at the boy. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“I can’t believe you’re not staying,” Luke said, pouting as you walked away.
“Luke,” you yelled exasperatedly. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow, sweets.”
“Shut up.”
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leaentries · 1 day
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headcanons | nico hischier
summary: boyfriend!nico
warnings: some sexual content included
more boyfriend!player headcanons
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✮. stares at your lips when you talk because he’s so obsessed with how pretty they are. especially when you lick or bite them? he’s a goner.
✮. loves to grab your thighs while making out in bed. yk just hiking one up on his hip while he grounds down into you? yeah. also loves the feeling of your body weight on top of his, how full and soft you feel.
✮. always make sure to guide you by the small of your back when in public places. never loses you out of his sight if you’re at a bar or somewhere super crowded. he gets worried very easily if he can’t keep tabs on you. not in a weird stalker way, but in a protective way. just to make sure you’re safe.
✮. with this, he also can get jealous semi-easily. he’s not overly jealous, but def the type to barge in and make sure his presence is known if another man tries to hit on you. will not hesitate to defend you, no matter the circumstance.
✮. has been know to throw a few punches on the ice when chirps start flying around from the other team and your name comes into play. does not joke around about you.
✮. always make sure to watch your drink if you leave to go to bathroom with your girlfriends at the bar. if it’s just the two of you, he will stand guard outside the bathroom door to make sure no creeps walk in on you.
✮. one word, hugs. his hugs cure everything. and bonus: hugging you is his favorite past time. (other than being inside of you) i’m talking big ole bear hugs that spread warmth and love through your soul. his hugs feel like vanilla and autumn. he’s the definition of a comfort person.
✮. the kind of guy to keep the bathroom stocked with your desired feminine products bc he tracks your period. he downloaded an app so he can help you.
✮. loves to cuddle and hold his big, warm hands on your tummy when you’re cramping. he’ll act like he hates doing it, but 100% loves it. will cater to almost every need/want you have because he just wants you to be happy.
✮. always keeps extra hoodies in his car, bags, suitcases, etc. that way if you ever get cold or want one he is prepared. also keeps little bits and bobs like your favorite lip products, hair ties, lotions, touch-up makeup, and stuff like that in his glove compartment and console.
✮. basically, he’s perfect.
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heavenlyhischier · 2 days
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Luke Hughes intermission interview.
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Connor Ingram, “X” 12.21.23
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cherry-hischier · 3 days
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luke scoring and then almost falling over before going to hug nico...this team is so dear to me
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jhughesangel · 2 days
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devs win☺️☺️
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ohmypuckingod · 2 days
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26 Mar '24 // NJ vs. TOR ↳ 6-3 win
"[Jake] kept us in the game. They were all over us in the first period... Obviously, it's not the way you want to start...but we know from a lot of experience, the game is sixty minutes."
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fiapartridge · 1 day
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2/2. May I please request something with Jack? His girlfriend being nervous/insecure because not only does she not know his family/team mates/friends etc but she has no prior knowledge/experience with hockey (any sports/sport activities really) and boating etc. Just feeling out of place in a world where her boyfriend and his family are some of the best/most famous. Obviously take this in whatever direction you wish or ignore it. (I come from a family of artistic city people and my only extracurriculars were volunteering at libraries and museums, I am as boring as they come lol)
obsessed | jack hughes
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"i'm so obsessed with your ex..."
jack hughes x reader
summary: realizing that you have nothing in common with jack, you start to wonder why he even likes you in the first place.
warning(s): angst with a happy ending, cursing, luke and quinn being dicks sorry lol
fia's note 💌: VERYYY loose interpretation of this request LOL SORRY IF THIS IS ASS okayyy enjoy!
not proofread (i got lazy sorry lol)
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You should’ve known what you were getting into once you got into your relationship with Jack. You should’ve known that it would be hard; that dating a hockey player—a famous hockey player—would be hard, but you, for some reason, didn’t let that stop you. During times like these, you wish it did.
“So, Y/N, how’d you get into hockey?” Ellen asked from across the dinner table. You were too busy stuffing your plate to hear, and once the table fell silent, you knew she had asked you something. 
Embarrassed, you set your plate down, taking Jack’s hand instead. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
She laughed, and then the whole table laughed, and you felt your cheeks grow warmer and your body more tense. Was it that bad? “I asked how you got into hockey, honey.”
“Oh,” you smiled, turning to her. “I didn’t really get into hockey until I met Jack,” you said, leaning closer to him as he smiled softly in return. To be honest, you were glad that you hadn’t been into hockey, or any sports in general, prior to meeting Jack. He taught you how to score a goal, how to celly, and even how to take a hit on the ice. (Jack said he was hitting you just how he would any guy, but you knew he didn’t even put a 1/10th of his weight onto you. Then, he called you Hulk for not even realizing how hard it was. You thought he was bluffing; you still do.)
“You don’t play, or skate, or anything?” Jim asked, cutting into his steak and stuffing the small slice into his mouth.
You shook your head. “No, I, um, my family wasn’t really big on any of that.”
Poking his head up, Luke smiled towards Jack as he pointed his fork at the older boy. “Katy knew all about hockey.”
Katy? You tilted your head to Jack, silently asking who Katy was. It was like he was trying to not make eye contact with you, like he was embarrassed. For who? For you? For him? Slipping your hand out from his, you placed both of yours under your thighs, trying to still yourself from shaking. You shook when you were nervous. Jack knew and he was scared—scared that his family was gonna go ahead and ruin it all. 
Sensing your confusion, Luke nodded at you. “Katy was Jack’s girlfriend in high school. Lead scorer in her team’s league. She was legendary. Whatever happened to her, Jack?”
You felt your chest clench, and your hands underneath your thighs weren’t helping anything, and you couldn’t stop bouncing your knee, and Ellen was staring at you again. You just wished they would stop staring at you, like they were waiting for a reaction from you. 
“Luke, shut up,” Jack scolded, trying to grab your hand from under your thigh as you shook your head. You just wanted this to be over. You shouldn’t have agreed to meet his family. You shouldn’t have agreed to be with him. You were never going to be enough; not when there’s Katy; not when he had the most perfect girl for him, and he still chose to break up with her. When was he going to break up with you? Probably after this dinner. Probably after his family tells him that you’re not the one; that you’re not like Katy at all.
“I’m sorry,” you interrupted as Luke was just about to spew his rebuttal. You stood from your chair, laying your cloth napkin on the table as Jack looked up at you with concern. “Um, can I go to the bathroom?”
Quinn laughed. He laughed. He fucking laughed at you.
“Sure, honey,” Ellen smiled, silently scolding Quinn. “It’s in the hallway by the kitchen, third door on the right.”
“Thank you,” you said, not even looking up at anyone before quickly racing to the bathroom. 
Locking the door, you sat on the toilet cover, pulling out your phone, and immediately going to Instagram. He has to be following her. Someone has to be following her. And right when you searched up “Katy” on Luke’s Instagram following, there she was, in all of her hockey glory. The perfect girl. 
She had sandy blonde hair, ocean blue eyes, and she looked at least 5’8, maybe even taller. She wore designer brands that your bank account wouldn’t even allow you to look at, and God, she looked amazing in that dress. But somehow, in some possible way, she looked even better in her hockey gear. She still had posts with Jack in her tags. She’s sitting on his lap at a party, red Solo cups in hand as he stares at her with a look he had never given you. You can see the way she’s loved by everyone around her; the way Ellen holds her like a daughter; how Luke plays games with her like a sister; how Trevor carries her over his shoulder like they’re best friends. You’ve never felt that way with anyone close to Jack.
Even back in New Jersey, every time you went out with the team, you felt like you were just there. Like you were just wasted space. Sometimes you wondered if they even knew your name. You told them plenty of times, but Dawson still asks every time you see him, and Nico still gives you those sad pity smiles, like it’s another reminder that you don’t fit in with Jack and his friends.
Sometimes you even question it. Why are you with Jack? You’re total opposites. He loves hockey, you know nothing about the sport. You think staying in and knitting is fun when his ideal nights are going to parties and getting drunk off his ass. You guys don’t even look good together. You know who he looks good with? Katy. 
Katy. Katy. Katy.
You’ll never be Katy.
“Y/N?” A knock at the door took you out of your spiral as you stared at the wooden slab, too scared to open it and be met with his entire family laughing at you from the hallway. “Baby, it’s Jack. I,” he stammered. “I’m so sorry,” he apologized, his forehead resting on the door in front of him. I lost her, he thought. There’s no coming back from this. She hates me and my family, and I blew it. “I screamed at Luke; he had no right to talk to you like that. And Quinn’s getting yelled at by my mom as we speak. Please just—please let me in.”
Slowly, hesitantly, you opened the door, being met with a distressed Jack whose eyes were red and whose lips were swollen with the amount of chewing he was doing to them. It broke your heart to see him that way, but his family was right. Katy was perfect, and you’re nothing like her.
“Baby,” Jack stepped closer as you took a step back, ripping his heart into pieces. “Y/N.”
“You’re family’s right, Jack.” “No, they’re not,” he argued.
You nodded, frowning, and holding back a sob because it felt over. It felt so over. “They are. They are because what do we have in common, Jack? Nothing! We have nothing in common, and everybody sees it! Jack, I—”
“Don’t,” he shook his head. “Don’t say it. Don’t break up with me.”
“Jack—”
“Who the fuck cares?” he exclaimed. “Who cares if we have nothing in common? I like you, I want to be with you, you’re my person! I don’t see that with anyone else.”
Rolling your hand down your face, you let out a tired sigh. “You’re gonna see it, Jack. You’re gonna realize that I’m not your person; that I’m not the one you want; that I’m awkward and boring and don’t get along with anyone you care about, and you’re gonna break my heart. And that’s just how it is.”
“Are you listening to yourself right now? You think I could ever get tired of you? I like you because you’re nothing like my friends, or my family, or anyone I’ve ever dated. I broke up with Katy because her life was just hockey, and my life was just hockey, and everything was just hockey.” Stepping closer, he held your hips as your back hit the sink behind you. “I don’t want my life to be hockey. You’re the part of my life that I need. If I didn’t have you in my life, I think I’d go crazy,” he laughed as you rubbed your sleeve against your wet nose.
“You’re friends don’t like me.”
“Fuck them,” he grinned, running his thumbs up and down your waist. “Plus, you haven’t met Coley yet. Think he’d like you more than he likes me.”
“What’s he like?”
“Taylor Swift karaoke—”
“Sold,” you chuckled as he shook his head, smiling at you like you were the only girl in the world, because to him, you were. “So this Katy girl,” you said, raising your eyebrow slyly.
“Is irrelevant,” he answered. “I only have eyes for you, pretty girl.”
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theemporium · 2 days
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Ahhh can I order a violet fluff with jack and #7?? 💜
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
7. “I can hardly wait to put a ring on that finger.”
.
“I’m in love with you.”
You snorted, but smiled anyway. “I’m in love with you, too.”
“No, like, I’m in love with you.”
You blinked, pausing your movements as you turned to look at your boyfriend. Neither of you had said anything in the last thirty or so minutes, both lost in your own tasks. Music had been playing from the speaker Jack set up in the middle of the room, accompanying you two in the semi-empty apartment. 
It wasn’t the first apartment you two shared together. Your lease had ended and the decision to move in together had always been there, but neither of your apartments felt right. But with Jack’s place locked in for a few more months, it had been an easy decision for you to move in with him until you found a place together. 
But life got in the way, as it did. The move happened at the end of the summer and then the season started, and you got a promotion, and none of the places you viewed felt right. It felt like the universe was working against you two until you found this apartment in downtown Jersey City. 
It was cute and perfect, and needed a little work done before it was fully yours to enjoy together. So, when the boys finished up for the season and the two of you had more free time on your hands, you thought working on the apartment yourselves as much as you could would help make your first apartment a little more special. 
“Jack, babe,” your voice was a little softer than usual as you slowly placed the paint roller down on the tray. “You feeling good?” 
He frowned, like you were the one acting odd here. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 
“Because we’ve been dating for almost four years and I’m pretty sure we did the ‘I love you’s ages ago,” you said to him as you stepped over the stray tools scattered across the floor until you reached him. You raised your hand, pressing the back of your palm against his forehead. “Did you hit your head? Is this a memory loss thing?” 
“I’m fine,” Jack huffed, but leaned into your touch nonetheless. His hands dropped to your waist, pulling you that bit closer before you could try to step away. “I’m just saying, it’s kinda hit me.”
“Four years to realise you’re in love with me?” You asked, your eyes narrowing slightly.
“Yes,” he answered instantly before frowning. “No, like…I know I love you. I know I’m in love with you. But it's just hit me that I am in love with you.”
You blinked. “You lost me, babe.”
“Like, look at us. Look at this,” he emphasised as he waved at the room around you both. “This is our real lives. I get to live with you. I get to kiss you. This is all real life. This is our reality! Isn’t that just crazy?” 
Your face softened a little. “We’re lucky.” 
“I’m lucky,” he corrected as he wound his arms around your waist to close the little remaining distance between you. “Most guys don’t even know what love is and I get you. I get us. I get Saturdays spent painting our apartment that we bought together. That’s fucking insane.”
“You’re feeling awfully sappy today,” you noted, though your chest tightened at his words as you placed your hands on either side of his face. “I’m glad it’s all with you.”
“I don’t want it with anyone else but you,” Jack confessed, his voice dropping to a quiet whisper even if it was only the two of you in the apartment. “All of it. Like, even the future stuff.” 
You bit back your smile. “The future stuff?” 
“Yeah, the proper serious adult shit,” Jack nodded with a completely straight face. “Like marriage and kids. And adopting a dog.” 
“Adopting a dog is more serious than marriage?” You laughed, trying to pretend like your whole face wasn’t heating up at the idea that he wanted to marry you, that Jack imagined that future with you too. 
“I mean, we can change the rules. I’m down for a dog after we get engaged,” he bargained, a boyish grin taking over his face as the two of you softly swayed on the spot.
“Depends on the proposal,” you joked.
“Hm,” Jack hummed before he turned his face to press a kiss to your left hand. “I can hardly wait to put a ring on that finger.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “For the dog?”
“For you,” Jack corrected. “For us to be forever, baby.” 
“I like the sound of that.” 
“Good,” Jack grinned. “Cause it’s gonna happen and it’s gonna be the best goddamn proposal you have ever seen. And then we are gonna get our dog to make the day perfect.”
You snorted. “Deal.”
.
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hughes86-43 · 2 days
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saw this on Twitter but they look so good
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scudevils · 2 days
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it was at this moment john regretted being locker buddies with luke
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annesart · 14 hours
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𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 || J. Hughes
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SUMMARY: Y/n is trying her best to make little Em asleep, but as much as tired is she, she's not successful and Jack needs to help.
WARNING: angst, fluff
PAIRING: dad! Jack Hughes x mom! reader
Since the time Emma was born it was harder to sleep for sure. She, like every other baby, has sometime problems with falling asleep, crying all night long. Tonight was no different. Em cried, nothing helped her sleep. And you were already desperate, tired, exhausted, angry, sad, helpless.
Jack usually didn't wake up much, his sleep was more sound. But today's crying, which had been going on since 1 am when Em woke up and continued until now - until 3 am, did not let him sleep.
"Shh, sleep baby, please," you said with a tear on your cheek. You had to fight yourself to keep from crying. You sat on the end of the couch in the living room so Em's crying wouldn't wake Jack. But he was already standing in the doorway and saw how tired and desperate you were.
"Let me help you," he whispered, his voice hoarse, kissing your forehead and took your guys daughter into his arms. He rocked her and little Em stopped crying in about 2 minutes. Jack carefully carried her to the bedroom, where he placed her in the crib. He then went back to you where you were now the one crying.
"Honey, what's wrong?" he asked and sat next to you, placing his arm on your back. You sobbed and couldn't let a wrd out of you. "Y/n?" he repeated. “I'm a terrible mom,” you whined. "I put her to sleep for two hours, nothing helped. I did everything necessary, changed her diaper, fed her and nothing helped, then you come and she stops. She hates me, Jacky."
Jack smiled softly and pulled you into a hug. "That's not true. You're a great mom!" he has begun. "It's not your fault that you're tired and you just couldn't do it. The more tired you are, the more energy you lose and so you can't put her to sleep properly. Don't blame yourself, honey. I'm here, for you two, to help. I always will be, and you know that. And seriously- you're the best mom I could ever ask for for my kids."
His words calmed you down. But you stopped. "Kids? We have more?"
"No, but we will. I mean only if you'd like to." That made you laugh. "Maybe one day, but I'll get a good night's sleep for that." You said and you both laughed. "Alright, let's get some sleep." he said and took you in his arms. His touch was so nice that just transferring to the bed closed your eyes down.
He laid you down, and cuddled up to you as you slowly fell asleep.
"I love you," you breathed out.
"Love you more." Jack kissed your cheek. He was all you needed, and everything will be okay again.
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be still my beating heart
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heavenlyhischier · 3 days
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Luke’s first intermission interview!
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misschino · 2 days
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