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#the Hughes brothers
puckarchives · 4 months
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the (infamous) hughes brothers sleepovers: l. hughes
blurb: in which you and luke introduce the daughter the world never even knew you had to the nhl.  / word count: 1.8k / pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader
When the tradition originally started, Luke was in his rookie year of playing with Jack for the Devils, and began entirely as an accident. Somehow, Quinn ended up passed asleep in the middle of your living room, flanked by Luke and Jack the weekend that the Canucks played the Devils, too worn out by their hours-long FIFA and Call of Duty battles, and high off of the inordinate amount of snacks the three had consumed.
This, however, quickly evolved into an actual planned sleepover; once a month, one of the boys would host the other two at their home, where they would all act akin to literal children— they would build a fire outside, and once they got inside, would build an actual fort— pillows, couch cushions, and blankets would litter the ground, and by the time you knew it, you would come down to find all three tangled together somehow, with Luke’s arm over Quinn’s face, Jack’s head hanging over the edge of his makeshift bed, and all of them in the same order: Jack on the left, Luke in the middle of his two older brothers, and Quinn on the right. 
In short, it was the cutest thing you had ever seen— you got to see the level of adoration and love that each brother had for the other two, and got to see the way they interacted outside of the rink, and outside of the cameras and fame. During the sleepovers, they were just that— three brothers who cared about each other, and who loved each other. 
This, however, brought you to your most recent predicament: here you were at 11PM on a Friday night, trying to herd the three Hughes brothers around a 24-hour Target, following behind them with a cart that was quickly growing in the amount of sugar it held. This month was Luke’s— and by extension, yours as well— turn to host, which meant that you had the opportunity to load them all of into your car, drive them to Target, and watch them go crazy trying to grab snacks. 
“Well, if you get those, then Jack won’t eat them. You know that, Q” Luke said to his older brother, who was holding a pack of Nutter Butter cookies, while Jack was in the aisle over, stacking his arms with the Smirnoff’s he would later try to ice his brothers with. 
“Good, more for me then,” Quinn replied, before dumping said pack into your cart. He laughed as Luke added two more packs of cookies— the chewy and regular Chips Ahoy, before sliding beside you, laying a pack on your forehead, and then following Quinn as he walked into the next aisle in search of their middle brother. 
When you followed them, however, literally only seconds later, you were met with an unexpected sight. As you steered your cart, you stopped midway, because there, in the middle of the drink section of a Target in the middle of nowhere New Jersey, stood all three Hughes brothers, with Nerf Guns pointed at each other, resembling that Spider-Man meme where they all stood in a triangle, pointing at one another. 
Before you could ask what the hell was going on, they fired— Jack ducking before Luke’s bullet could hit him, but hitting Quinn square in the chest as Luke ran to get behind you, using you as a human shield. After no more shots were fired however, they all stopped where they were, stood up, and continued to act as if nothing had happened. Jack loaded up the two pack of sodas and drinks, Quinn kept walking into the neighboring aisles, and Luke tapped away on his phone, all acting as if they hadn’t just had a full-on Nerf war right in front of you, and as if your boyfriend hadn’t been using you as a human shield from it. God, you were way too old for this, you thought, before sucking it up and laughing to yourself as you traversed the next aisles. 
By the time you were checking out of the Target, your bags were packed to the brim with overly-sugary snacks; ranging from the aforementioned cookies, (which Jack refused to even touch because of the vendetta he had against anything peanut butter related, apparently,) to three separate bags of Lime flavored chips that ranged from the original version, to kettle cooked and rice chips, and the three cases of Mountain Dew, Smirnoff Ice, and Vitamin Water— God, these boys bought snacks as if your house was entirely bare, instead of full of perfectly good food. Regardless, however, you watched as they all worked in tandem to scan, bag, and then push the cart back to your car, load everything up in a swift manner, and even get in the car with no complaints. As weird as the Hughes brothers were, they sure knew how to work as a team— to ensure that no single brother carried the load of the work, but instead simply work in what you could only describe as harmony. Each completing their portion fo the task, and doing so without even having to ask; a well-oiled machine you knew was built from their childhoods, and from the years and years of hockey camps, or cheering the others on, and of simply being brothers.
Luke was the beginner of the group; he’d start the task, fall into his role, and wait for the other two to join him. Jack would follow— would see what Luke needed and do whatever he could to ease it, or to make it go faster; to be more efficient. And then Quinn, as older brother, would ensure that the other two were taken care of, before putting himself at the end— tying up their loose ends, making sure what was being done was done in a correct manner, and closing it off. A perfectly coordinated team. 
It wasn’t until the four of you got back to your shared home with Luke that all hell seemed to break loose once again. While the car ride back had been relatively tame, you driving because you had decided you were the only one who didn’t love hitting every single curb, and didn’t break like a semi-truck had rolled over right in front of you, Luke had sat in the passenger seat, connecting his phone to the aux and playing the signature Hughes Brothers Playlist— a playlist that seemed to disobey every single law of organization to have ever existed, as it would switch from some country song he liked at the moment, to LMFAO and Lil Jon’s “SHOTS,” until swiftly moving to Adele’s “Hello.” All three brothers sang to every single song, though. All without missing a single beat. 
Odd music choices aside, however, when the four of you ended up back at your house, you could hear the three of them yelling and moving around downstairs as you got ready for bed, before tapering off into the sounds of what was unmistakably Call of Duty. Before you went to bed, though, you made your way out of you and Luke’s shared bedroom, standing at the top of the staircase and looking down into the living room. You knew these sleepovers were sacred to them, and you wanted to give all three of them space— you knew, and could see, how much they cared for each other, and at times, these were the only opportunities they had to spend time together during the season, so you opted to spend time with yourself instead— even if that included letting them make a mess out of your living room.
Seemingly in the span of less than five minutes, all three boys had managed to not only push your sectional sofa to the wall, but also bring out all six dining chairs out, and set up the three pairs of sheets you had in the linen closet diagonally— laying them atop of the backs of the chairs, and adding support to their makeshift fort with the otterman, and the two kitchen bar stools. In the middle, however, you could see the three of them sitting side-by-side, all with a controller in their hands, and all trying to beat whatever game they had on— cheering on Quinn and he managed to take down their opponent, and then egging on Jack as he seemingly lost. 
As you made your way back to your room, however, the board under your foot creaked, and Luke’s head shot up to look at you— giving you a smile and you looked back down at him. “Going to sleep already, honey?” he asked, still looking up, and ignoring the looks that his brothers shared over his head. 
The other two Hughes brothers adored you— although they were a bit apprehensive when Luke first brought you home, only a few weeks after he left Michigan, you had grown to be apart of the family, and they saw you as the little sister, (and nuisance,) that was perfect for their little brother, especially when you joined Luke in egging them on as to why neither elder brother had bothered to find themselves someone yet. 
“Yeah, bub. Gonna head to bed. Remember boys, the blankets are in the hallway closet! And your toothbrushes are in the guestroom bath! Goodnight boys!” you said, yelling the last part a bit louder. You were met with a chorus of “Goodnight Y/N!” and “Thank you!” before the sounds of the three arguing won over the game once again, and you retreated back into your bed, falling asleep almost instantly.
Later, however, you were woken up by a sweltering heat. You didn’t remember it being so hot when you went to bed, and when you got up to move, you felt the arms wrapped around you— Luke, you thought. He only pulled you to him tighter, and when you turned to meet his face, you whispered his name quietly. 
“Luke, sweetheart,” you said, trying to get his attention, and asking why he was with you instead of his brothers. The only response you got from him, however, was a “Hmm?”
“Why are you in bed with me?” you asked quietly, trying to keep your voice down. “Missed you, sweetheart,” he mumbled back, his eyes still closed. While that didn’t answer your question in the slightest, the next voice that popped up did. 
“Can you guys shut up and stop being so coupley? Some of us are trying to sleep here,” he said from beside Luke, and before you could even ask as to why the hell he was in your bed to begin with, you heard Quinn’s voice next— “Lu dragged us in here. Said he didn’t wanna sleep without you” he yawned. 
You only stayed quiet, laughing at the situation. Here you were, encompassed by your boyfriend, while his two older brothers were laying on the other side of him, all because they wanted to sleep over with him, and all because he didn’t want to sleep without you. These Hughes Brothers Sleepovers sure were something, you thought, before joining the other three and falling back asleep.
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samanthasgone · 27 days
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Credit: 1929hockey
The Insta early days.
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matthewshisch · 8 months
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WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF
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soupy-sez · 7 months
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Dead Presidents (1995)
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holy-puckslibrary · 5 months
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𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭
here's a list of the uploads for this year's fic-mas event, as well as a link to the list of additional ficmas uploads available on patreon.
hope you enjoy, and happy holidays!
˗ˏˋ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˎˊ˗
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again, this is a list of ficmas uploads that are available now (or soon-to-be, depending on when you see this post) on tumblr.
if you'd to pursue the content available on patreon (and will remain there exclusively for the time being), please refer to 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓.
please note the upload date listed for each.
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˗ˏˋ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐑𝐒. 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 ˎˊ˗ 
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — nathan mackinnon x claus!reader
𝐰𝐜 — 2k
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — when she took the reins as the world's chief claus, her father forgot to disclose one very important, pressing hidden clause in the job contract... 
available DECEMBER 1, 2023
read it ˗ˏˋ HERE ˎˊ˗
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˗ˏˋ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 ˎˊ˗
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — best friend!jack hughes x reader
𝐰𝐜 — 2.3k
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — in order to avoid the annual interrogation into his love life, jack hughes enlists his longtime friend to be his totally platonic plus-one for the holidays.
available DECEMBER 6, 2023
read it ˗ˏˋ HERE ˎˊ˗
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˗ˏˋ 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌 ˎˊ˗
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — teacher!jeff skinner x teacher!reader
𝐰𝐜 — 2.4k
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — their students decide to play matchmaker before a school dance; will their scheming pay off?
available DECEMBER 13, 2023
read it ˗ˏˋ HERE ˎˊ˗
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˗ˏˋ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐅 ˎˊ˗
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 —grumpy!erik johnson x sunshine!nanny!reader
𝐰𝐜 — 1.1k
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — in erik's absence, his nanny takes over staging the family's elf on the shelf in order to keep the magic alive for his children. according to his daughter, erik's return is as disappointing as his staging.
available DECEMBER 20, 2023
read it ˗ˏˋ HERE ˎˊ˗
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˗ˏˋ 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ˎˊ˗
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — silverfox!DBF!sidney crosby x reader
𝐰𝐜 — 4.2k
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — it may not the right plant, but it's close enough to justify upholding the festive tradition.
available DECEMBER 25, 2023
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All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.
©2023 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted, or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.
⤑ to my inbox 💌
⬸ back to the catalog
⬸ back to the main blog
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scenesandscreens · 10 months
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Menace II Society (1993)
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Directed by The Hughes Brothers, Cinematography by Lisa Rinzler
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"Being a black man in America isn't easy. The hunt is on, and you're the prey. All I'm saying is... All I'm saying is... Survive! All right?"
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lobbycards · 2 months
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From Hell, Spanish lobby card. 2001
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nine-frames · 8 months
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"Teach him the way we grew up was bullshit."
Menace II Society, 1993.
Dir. The Hughes Brothers | Writ. Allen Hughes, Albert Hughes & Tyger Williams | DOP Lisa Rinzler
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vendriin · 2 years
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From Hell (2001)
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redpool · 1 year
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5,6,7
5. top 3 favourite captains
Gabriel Landeskog is the best NHL captain out of all of them.
then Sidney and Anders Lee.
6. favourite hockey siblings
hands down either the Tkachuks or the Hughes brothers
7. favourite hockey duo
I want to say Nolan & TK but they're not together anymore, and all the other ones that I liked aren't together either, so if we are talking hocky duo that's still together, I'm going with Brady & Tim. Or Sid & Nate.
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ulrichgebert · 2 years
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Dann brauchten wir schon wieder einen Gedenkfilm, für den herrlichen Robbie Coltrane, der in der fabelhaften Krimiserie Cracker war, zwei James-Bond-Filmen und in Flash Gordon, aber es hilft ja alles nichts. Im viktorianischen Schauerkrimi From Hell löst er gemeinsam mit dem brillanten, aber opiumsüchtigen Inspektor Johnny Depp durchaus überraschend die bis heute unaufgelöste Mordserie von Jack the Ripper auf, aber -die Zeiten sind hart und ungerecht- es hilft letztlich auch nichts.
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framesdump · 3 months
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Menace II Society (Allen Hughes & Albert Hughes, 1993)
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flyinpucks · 4 months
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his little laugh at the end
he is so🫠🫠
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holy-puckslibrary · 5 months
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━ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄
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˗ˏˋ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˎˊ˗
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — best friend!jack hughes x reader 𝐰𝐜 — 2.3k 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — in order to avoid the annual interrogation into his love life, jack hughes enlists his longtime friend to be his totally platonic plus-one for the holidays.
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — this is so cavity-inducing it makes me sick (affectionate) and why did i do the boys so dirty in this oml
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“Why is Luke hitting on your girlfriend?”
Jack Hughes groans.
Not this shit again.
Was it really that strange for him to bring a friend home for the holidays?
A strictly platonic, no ulterior motives friend. A good friend, one who also saw him as nothing more than a friend.
He didn’t think so, but with how his family reacted, you would have thought he rode in on a unicycle dressed like a clown. All he did was invite a plus-one.
Sure, it was the first time since high school, but still. The sky didn’t turn purple, and Jack was pretty sure the planet would keep spinning. Not to mention, this is exactly what they wanted.
His family pestered him relentlessly about his love life—or, more accurately, a lack thereof—so he assumed they’d shift their interrogation to one or both of his brothers if he brought someone home, romantic or not. 
The whole point of a “holidate” (you) tagging along was to avoid questions, not elicit more. His plan was back-firing.
Epically.
Though less evident in your presence, not once had anyone asked him something unrelated to you.
His great-aunt wanted to know how he asked you to be his girlfriend, and Husband #4 wanted to know how he tricked you into going out with him in the first place.
(Jack was offended by this. He thinks himself to be quite a catch.)
His gaggle of younger cousins needed to know when the wedding was and if they’d get to be in it, a line of questioning that quickly evolved into an open audition for Flower Girls and Ring Bearers.
The older ones weren’t any better. Their onslaught was overtly critical and lacked the endearing innocence of its predecessor. One had a problem with the gift he picked out for you (it wasn’t “romantic enough,” as if a sixteen-year-old even knew what that meant), and another was disappointed he hadn’t taken advantage of the mistletoe above the garage door. A few swiftly agreed you were too good for him after Jack let slip you decorated his apartment because he was too busy—and aesthetically-challenged. 
His nana asked if he had "acquired a ring yet." When he told her he hadn’t, she offered one straight off her finger before he could explain why jewelry wasn’t necessary. She then launched into a spirited pitch for “finally getting some grandbabies.” 
Apparently, the rest of his family had a hefty bet going on who out of the three brothers would settle down first. Quinn, by default as the eldest, seemed like a sure thing for a few years, but seeing as his date for this year’s Christmas Eve dinner was a six-pack of Bud Light, it wasn’t challenging to put Jack, unwittingly, in the lead.
“For the millionth time, she is not my girlfriend,” Jack replies, not bothering to water down his irritation.
His older brother was annoying, so that did factor into his sour mood, but Jack was mainly frustrated with his younger brother for robbing him of his holidate and monopolizing her charm for his gain.
If Luke wanted someone to cart around the room, he should’ve brought one of his own instead of stealing his. You agreed to be Jack’s smoke and mirrors, not his little brother’s.
The thief has you roped into a conversation with a second cousin’s fiancé surrounding her impending nuptials. He knows this because the interaction began with her holding out her left hand so you could admire the massive rock weighing down her ring finger. You’re listening attentively as she goes on and on about the frivolous details. At one point, she pulls out her phone to show you something, and you visibly and genuinely gush, a hand over your heart.
Luke looks bored but satisfied with himself. 
Jack would be, too, if he had you as a human shield. Without a buffer, he was fair game.
Quinn smirks. “True, but you want her to be. Oh, that reminds me. If you are actually as platonic as you claim to be, you might want to remind Mom you need separate beds before she auctions off our guest room to the drunkest bidder. Unless, of course, curling up on Spider-Man sheets directly in front of a lifesize cardboard cutout of Crosby is some kind of freaky kink of yours.”
“Fuck off,” Jack hisses as he shoves his brother away from him.
“What? I don’t think it's that crazy to assume you’d get off on that, given how much of a die-hard you were growing up. You hero-worshiped the guy,” Quinn says between bouts of laughter. "I don't judge. Whatever foreplay you need, dude." 
“Do me a favor, would’ya?” Quinn nods, too tipsy to see he’s walking straight into a trap. “Go bother literally anyone else before I dunk your head in the eggnog.”
He does, head thrown back, cackling at his younger brother’s melodramatic threat. Jack doesn’t care if Quinn makes fun of him so long as he does it from six feet away. At least.
“Thank you, again, for doing this. I know my family is a lot—and don't really understand the concept of boundaries," Jack says in greeting when you manage to slip away from Luke and back to his side. 
Your expression lifts into a pretty smile.
“There’s no need to thank me, Jack. I’m enjoying myself. Everyone’s been so warm and welcoming.” 
“Really?”
“Really,” you affirm with a nod. “Your family has been on their best behavior.”
That’s because they want you to join us indefinitely, Jack muses.
However, now that he’s thinking about it, you becoming a more permanent fixture of Hughes holidays wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. It might devolve into that for you eventually, but Jack would never tire of having you as an anchor.
He was already planning on asking if you were interested in tagging along next year, but why put an expiration date on the invitation? It's not like he would have an actual date to bring. 
Before Jack can broach the subject, you’re pulled away by the herd of Flower Girl hopefuls. He expects you to look back with a pleading “Save me!” look in your eyes, but you don’t. You don’t even glance over your shoulder, already too engaged in whatever game of make-believe his cousins conjured up this time.
Jack's body warms as he stands in the corner of the living room. The happy kind of heat that spreads from your chest down to your toes and out to your fingertips. The kids are having a blast dancing between the couches and around the other guests, but you’re having just as much fun twirling them around. There’s so much giggling and smiling; it's infectious.
“Your girlfriend is a natural,” his dad says fondly as the children crowd you like their very own celebrity.
“Huh?” Jack murmurs, only half listening.
He’s too busy watching you hoist a giggling five-year-old into the infamous Dirty Dancing lift. Your arms are straight, glued to your ears. Jack smiles. He taught you that in his living room.
“Don’t let her be the one that gets away, okay?”
Jim wanders off to help his wife gather everyone for dinner, leaving Jack to chew on his dad’s request in solitude.
He winds himself so deeply into his head that he doesn’t notice you coming towards him until you’re face-to-face.
“Shall we?” you ask, eyes as bright as the tree behind you.
Jack nods, gulping down the strange feeling, and holds out his arm. He thinks he hears your breath catch as you thread your arm through to rest a hand in the crook of his elbow. 
You’re probably just surprised and maybe even a little confused. He’s never overtly chivalrous with anyone unless it's for a bit. Or in front of his mom. Neither of which is at play presently. You're alone in the hallway.
Jack just felt like being a gentleman. It's the least he could do after talking you into spending the holiday weekend with his nutty family and their big mouths. 
As Jack guides you through his childhood home, he does his best to ignore how much he likes the feeling of your shoulders brushing.
In the dining room, he pulls out a chair for you. While tucking you in, he catches his brothers mocking him in his peripheral vision.
Sensing his vexation, you snatch the bottle nearest you and fill a glass with wine. Wordlessly, you slide it into his palm. He takes half the heavy pour in one gulp and affectionately squeezes your shoulder. Immediately, Jack wishes he would’ve waited to do that until he could blame it on a buzz. It’s one simple touch, but that’s enough to make him feel like a complete weirdo.
He didn’t want you to misinterpret the gesture. Your friendship works so well because neither of you has tried to make it more. Maybe it was his anxiety talking, but Jack’s reasonably certain he’s wrecked everything.
The remainder of the wine goes quickly. 
“But I wanted to sit next to her!” Jack’s youngest cousin whines to his aunt from across the table.
“You’ve hogged her all night, honey. She’s Jack’s date; we should let him spend time with her. Maybe she’ll help you build your fort later if you behave during dinner.”
You nod and wink at the little girl. She, aglow with glee, claps her little hands together. Her mother quietly mouths her gratitude to you. 
“Who knew I was such a hot commodity?” you lean over and whisper to Jack.
It’s a lighthearted joke, but Jack feels a twinge of jealousy. He wasn’t a jealous person, especially with you. And, objectively, it was stupid to be upset over the demands of a child. 
The sole purpose of a “holidate” is to shift the attention away from him and, presumably, onto you. Jack hadn’t thought about how possessive the blatant division of your attention would make him feel.
Something shifted tonight; he wants to be selfish with you. 
As his mom pulls you into a conversation about your plans for New Year's Eve, Jack takes your hand in his. He waits for you to pull away. Instead, you squeeze his hand. Once, twice, then a final time. The fluttery nerves in his stomach dissipate.
Luke nudges Quinn, pointing his fork at your conjoined hands resting atop the table. They grin but say nothing.
Throughout the meal, his thumb absentmindedly rubs over yours. He hadn’t meant to, and when he realizes, Jack is hit with a sudden rush of clarity. 
He isn’t bothered that everyone assumes you’re together; he’s bothered that you aren’t.
The epiphany terrifies him.
The feeling of falling in love is very much like the feeling of a nightmare, like being sucked into an all-consuming black hole, entirely at its mercy and unable to save yourself.
He worries that once he starts falling, he might never stop. He’ll lose his bearings and his mind along with them. Jack couldn’t handle that kind of uncertainty. He couldn’t imagine forfeiting so much control over his own life.
Jack never wanted to fall in love, but he already had.
After dinner, Ellen sends the two of you to fetch more firewood from the shed. He can feel your unease as he trudges through the snow ahead of you.
It rose to the surface when he yanked his hand away before dessert and mounted steadily the quieter he became. You attempted to coax him into small talk with witty jokes and anecdotes from the time you spent separated tonight, but he couldn’t bring himself to participate much, if at all.
Eventually, you gave up and turned back to his mom for conversation. Jack didn’t blame you. He wasn’t the best company.
“Jack?” Your voice quivers.
It’s distant, literally and figuratively. He wonders when you stopped walking, but it doesn’t matter.
He halts his movements, but he’s too afraid to turn around. If he sees your eyes, he might say something he won’t be able to take back.
“Did I do something wrong? I feel like you’re mad at me. Or, at the very least, upset with me. Please, Jack, tell me what’s wrong so that I can fix it.”
His heart sprinters at your sincerity. In an instant, Jack relinquishes his fears and strides across the yard to cup your face with his hands. Your cheeks are freezing, but so are his palms. There are tears in your eyes threatening to spill over and meet his touch. He’s so close he can smell your perfume, perforated by his shampoo that you borrowed this morning.
Strange look on his face, he whispers as though divulging his most intimate secret, “You’re my best friend.”
Because, in every way that matters, he is.
The dam breaks, then. Salty streams escape your eyes, slipping between your lower lashes to pool on his fingers. If it weren’t for the faint smile pulling on your lips, Jack would’ve thought you didn’t understand what he meant or that you didn't feel the same.
“I know,” you tell him softly. “You’re mine, too.”
Jack doesn’t even get to react before your lips catch his. He repays your courage so instantaneously and urgently that your mutual admission hasn’t fully sunk in when his tongue slips in to greet yours.
You fist his sweater as if he might pull away any second. Jack strokes his thumbs over your skin to assure you he won’t. Now—or ever.
This kiss—wonderful and everything—is the culmination of every smile shared in confidence, every terrible karaoke duet, countless movie marathons, and too many midnights to count. It feels so natural, so obvious. How he never once thought you’d arrive here is an enigma.
A chorus of whistles and applause erupts from the back porch.
Embarrassed, you attempt to separate from him, but Jack’s insistent lips persuade you to stay despite the growing audience. Now that he’s gotten a taste—of both your mouth and honest affection, Jack’s not budging for anything. 
When he was a kid, his mom told him that people only get a few “snow globe moments” in their lifetime. Perfect glimmers of happiness that you want to encase in a bubble and keep pristine forever. Jack never knew what she meant, not really.
Not until you kissed him. 
“Fucking finally!” Quinn shouts.
Behind your back, Jack flips him the bird.
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dmercer91 · 4 months
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can we get a part 2 of luke liking jacks best friend??? maybe where they end up together 🤭
got the girl, lh43
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in which luke's behaviour finally clicks and you mess with him until he can admit his feelings out loud (2.0k)
soft, almost needy/naive luke is becoming my favourite cause i love me a boy that's deeply reliant on his snuggles despite being tall and man shaped. a little unproofread and a little silly in the middle, for flavour
when you woke up, you found yourself tucked under lukes arm, your face now a little hidden into his neck so that he could be far up enough on the bed that his legs didn't teeter the edge.
he was sound asleep, a little less of a morning person than you despite his hectic schedule during most of the year.
the summer was his time to sleep until ludicrous hours, and you took note throughout the years that he always took advantage.
he was always the last one of the brothers to hobble downstairs for breakfast, sleep frequently prominent in his eyes and his hair a tangled mess of his curls that were drying out due to the lake water and lack of caring for.
so you let him rest, carefully untangling yourself from his grasp and heading to wash your face, and brush your teeth. it would be a while before quinn was up, usually the most responsible brother who knew that if he got up early enough he could poach some of your breakfast and have a little while of peace in the gym or front yard.
you cleaned up some of the water bottles that had been left in the living room from the night prior, folding the throw blankets and fixing up the pillows before starting to cook your breakfast, deciding on a simple one for today; eggs, toast and some fruit.
what you didn't expect was to hear the creak of the stairs within a few seconds of you frying your eggs, your eyebrows furrowing as you examined the microwave for the time.
a little early for quinn, but you figured it was him anyways. "quinny?" you said, your voice travelling far enough to make it to the stairs but not to make its way upstairs and wake anyone.
when he didn't answer, you turned your head and saw that it was luke, rubbing exhaust from his eyes and sleepily making his way over to you.
you smiled, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and tug you into him, and sharp whine echoing into your ear as he saw that you were cooking breakfast.
"it's so early.. come back to bed w' me," he pleaded, tugging you away from the oven and pawing at the knobs of the stove, trying to turn it off.
you giggled, adjusting his arms on you and turning back to your pan, shaking your head.
"i'm making my breakfast, lukey. i can make you some, hm?" he shook his head, tucking his face into your neck as if the natural morning light was too harsh on his eyes.
his arms unravelled from your waist, hands planting on your hips and soothing up and down, pulling your shirt up on your waist a little with each passing.
you bit your lip, his actions from now and last night finally coming together in your brain.
snuggling up with you, staring at you instead of watching a movie he picked out, agreeing to spend the night with you, calling you baby by accident. you weren't sure how you hadn't picked up on it before.
everything was confirmed for you when the stairs croaked once again, now under the feet of the eldest hughes brother. when he saw you, luke still trying to pry your attention away from anything that wasn't him, his face lit with an amused smile.
he knew
you started to ponder on if jack knew, or even trevor and alex. if everyone was painfully aware of luke's eyes always being trained on you and decided to keep it from you.
you blinked back into reality, turning off the stove and plating your eggs. "lu?" you mumbled, offhandedly like you had a question you'd been meaning to ask him for some time, even though it only just come to you.
he hummed, hopeful eyes peeking up at you and his hands coming to a halt. "how about you go get ready and ill make you some breakfast, n' we can have it out on the boat," you murmured, cupping his head in your hand and playing with his curls.
you were gonna see how long it took until he broke, admitted how he'd been feeling.
you watched as his eyes dilated, scanning down to your lips with a deer in headlights-esque look of infatuation. he licked his lips, eyes darting back up to yours as soon as he caught his own staring.
he then nodded, blinking away the evident look of euphoria on his face at the feeling of your hands in his hair.
"oh," he murmured, still nodding along to your question. it was like he was under a spell. "okay," he finished, your hand retreating from his curls and pressing to his chest.
"i'll meet you out there, alright? gotta change once i'm done making your food," you instructed, earning one last nod of confirmation before he finally tore his body away from yours and lugged himself back upstairs and towards his own room.
"don't tell me you're gonna do this until he tells you himself," quinn's voice came from behind you once luke's bedroom door was shut and he couldn't hear the conversation.
"what's the fun in telling him i know? and plus, you can't tell me you didn't love watching that," you gestured to where luke had been standing, calling back to the blindingly obvious pining that the older brother had watched from the stairs.
he nodded a little, smile cracking at his lips as he took the plate of food you had already made for yourself.
you glared at him, mixing together another couple eggs into your bowl now that yours were gone.
"what! they would've been cold by the time you got to the boat anyways," he defended, shovelling a fork full of eggs into his mouth and sitting down at the island.
"y/n?" he asked, swallowing his bite.
you hummed, looking back at him as you poured the eggs into the pan. "you won't just lead him on, will you? like, you feel the same," he asked quietly, eyes avoiding yours after a quick second of eye contact.
your lips pulled back into a smile at his attempt at nonchalant protectiveness over his youngest brother, and you shook your head. "silly question. remember the girl who's face i shoved into a pile of snow? when we were kids?" you recalled, and quinn chuckled.
"yeah. i guess he's kinda always been yours," he stated, much more comfortable now that he knew two of his favourite people would soon stop dancing around each others requited feelings.
when the stairs could be heard again, you were expecting luke, but instead you saw your best friend, gloomy as he stared at you.
"you watched top gun without me, and you had our movie night with my little brother," he pouted, going up to you and ruffling your hair, tugging you into a side hug.
"even?" he asked, looking down at you hopefully.
"you threw me into the pool while i was wearing white. and zegras was there. even," you stuck your hand out, watching as he bashfully took it up to his lips and kissed your knuckles.
"not my brightest impulse decision, i have to admit," he sighed, reaching over your head for a plate and stealing the toast that had come out of the toaster, then some eggs.
you gave him the same glare you'd sent quinn, earning a similarly mischievous grin.
"why'd you make so much if s' not for me?" he wiggled his eyebrows, eyeing luke's bedroom door.
you rolled your eyes, a response you seemed to have needed to resort to one too many times this morning. for future reference, you'd keep in mind that one brother at a time for this hour of the morning was more than enough.
"her and lukey have a breakfast boat date," quinn teased, the two of them looking at each other with excited looks, both with hints of relief that something finally stirred between you and luke.
"at long last was getting a little long, munchkin. good for you," he kissed your forehead, sitting next to quinn at the counter.
"you're both just.. so insufferable" you grumbled, now having to finish off the carton of eggs you'd been using since two plate fulls had been stolen from you.
you popped more toast into the toaster, frowning at the empty plate of strawberries you’d cut up and grabbing the container of unsliced ones to make up some more.
switching focus back to the eggs, you scrambled them up and shook the pan around, ensuring a more even cook.
then, thing one and thing two came jogging downstairs in a full fledged conversation at the top of their lungs
“no, no. i totally kicked your a- ooh, fruit,“ he went to grab a piece of strawberry, earning a slap on the hand.
you spun around, spatula drawn like a sword at his face
“zegras, if you touch my food, this spatula is going down your throat.” his eyes went wide for a second, index finger pointing to your utensil and slowly lowering it down
“i liked you better yesterday,” he grinned, winking and grabbing an apple from the fridge, tossing one to alex. “touchy, this morning.” he grumbled under his breath as you glared at jack
“come on, man. you’re gonna get my top gun privileges revoked. again,” jack got up to put his plate away, shoving trevor’s shoulder on the way by.
“i like that that’s what you’re worried about, that’s really cool of you, j.” you rolled your eyes once more, finally greeting alex with a ruffle of his hair.
then finally, after the string of hockey boys coming down to steal your breakfast, each adorned with bottomless pits for stomachs- luke made his way back to the kitchen. he was now in a hoodie and swim shorts, his hair wet from his shower.
“could you finish up plating everything, lu? your brothers stole our original plates so i’m running a little behind,” you smiled sarcastically as the two eldest waved to you
luke chuckled, nodding and taking your place in front of the stove.
while you changed, he finished cutting up the fruit, he put whatever spreads you’d taken out on the toast, and he split the eggs.
when he was done, he turned to see his brothers, along with trevor, alex and cole- who came down as you went back up, staring at him.
he turned his shoulders inward, suddenly a little too self aware.
“.. what?” quinn grinned, cole coming to pat him on the back as he made his own meal.
“look who finally got the girl,” trevor teased, alex wiggling his eyebrows after taking a bite of his apple.
he furrowed his eyebrows, looking at jack who nodded in confirmation.
“i got the girl?” he asked softly, arms falling to his sides, slightly limp in his state of shock.
“yeah, you did.” you smiled from the entrance to the kitchen, coming up and massaging his shoulder a little.
“you are no fun,” you pointed at quinn, who raised his hands in defence.
“what? why?” luke asked, looking down at you with his head tilted adorably.
“i was gonna mess with you just a little longer. wanted you to admit it,” you grinned, hand on his abs
he smiled a little, pecking your lips.
you tugged at him, grabbing your plate and nodding to his.
“c’mon, now.” you pulled him towards to patio door.
the boys whistled after the two of you and you giggled, looking back to see jack with a proud, almost bashful smile. his favourite people, this’d mean a lot to him even if he never said it.
to save face, the last thing you heard from him on your way out of the back was ‘wear protection!’
you shook your head with a smile, turning to luke now that you couldn’t be seen.
“my lukey,” you murmured, cupping his face and kissing him softly, still more intense now that there wasn’t an audience.
he nodded into your kiss, returning the favour with a hint of desperation.
“my girl,”
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