the nhl and anaheim ducks are being sued by a former employee due to the sexual harassment that she was subject to while under the team's employ for three years, during which multiple members of the team including equipment managers also continually made homophobic and sexist remarks towards her. subsequently, due to these events she has ended up blacklisted from the industry and has been unable to secure employment since. there is no way around the fact that the culture around hockey, not just including the actual players and the sport itself, needs major reform.
what if you were an ANNOYING AMERICAN BOY who beat a SWEET CANADIAN BOY at THE junior tournament and he HATED you but then you SAT ON THE PLANE TOGETHER and you made him LAUGH and you became BEST FRIENDS and had a SECRET HANDSHAKE and a SHARED ROOFTOP PLAYLIST and DEBUT GOALS MINUTES APART and you both became the SUPERSTAR SAVIORS of your FAILING FRANCHISE but then he got TRADED away and you kept getting INJURED and said the injuries HURT LESS THAN THE TRADE and EVERYBODY called you WASHED while he THRIVED but THEN YOU GOT TRADED BACK TO HIM??
SUMMARY: Five-year-old Nico Dostál has his future completely figured out: he’s going to be an NHL goalie, just like his daddy.
WARNINGS: Pure fluff, family dynamics, proud dad Lukáš, adorable five-year-old logic, minor mentions of public attention
Requested: Lukáš Dostál + Your child proudly tells everyone they're going to play in the NHL one day because "daddy does"
Game days with a five-year-old were always a little unpredictable.
Normally, you had a routine.
You parked in the players’ family area, used the private entrance, said hello to the same security guards Nico had known practically his entire life, and made your way through the quieter hallways of the arena before eventually finding your seats.
It was easier that way, especially with Nico.
You and Lukáš had made a conscious decision pretty early on that, as much as possible, your son would have a normal childhood.
People knew Lukáš was married. They knew he had a little boy. There had been family pictures here and there, and Nico had obviously appeared at team events before, but neither of you went out of your way to put him in front of cameras.
Lukáš could handle attention, he had chosen a career where thousands of people watched him every night.
Nico hadn’t.
So you were careful. Which was exactly why walking through the main entrance of the arena on a game day wasn’t something you usually did.
But apparently, today was different.
Because Nico had decided approximately fifteen minutes before you left the house that he absolutely, desperately, urgently needed something from the team store.
“Mommy.”
You glanced down at him as the two of you crossed the plaza toward the arena.
His little hand was tucked securely into yours, his tiny Ducks jersey visible underneath the jacket you had zipped almost completely closed because of the cold.
“Yes baby?”
“I need goalie gloves.”
You nearly laughed “Nico, they don’t sell actual goalie gloves in the team shop.”
He frowned immediately “But Daddy has them.”
“Daddy gets his equipment somewhere else.”
Nico considered this, then looked up again “Can I get a little stick?”
“You already have three little sticks.”
“They’re different.”
You raised an eyebrow “They are?”
“Yes mommy" He said it with such confidence that you almost believed him.
You squeezed his hand “We’ll look.” That was apparently enough of a promise, because Nico practically bounced the remaining distance toward the doors.
The second you entered the arena, the familiar game-day energy surrounded you.
Fans were already arriving early, many wearing Ducks jerseys, some carrying signs, others stopping for pictures near the displays around the concourse.
You instinctively pulled Nico a little closer, he didn’t notice because he was far too interested in everything around him.
“Mommy, look!”
“I see it.”
“Daddy!”
You followed his pointing finger toward a massive promotional photo of Lukáš mounted near the entrance and smiled “Yes. That’s Daddy.”
Nico looked at the picture for several seconds, then at you, then back at the picture. A ridiculously proud little smile appeared on his face “That’s my daddy.”
“I know.”
“He’s big.”
You laughed softly “He’s bigger than you.”
Nico seemed mildly offended “I’m growing.”
“You are.”
“I’m gonna be that big.”
“Probably.”
“And then I’m gonna play hockey.” There it was, the declaration he had been making for months.
You crouched briefly to fix the hood bunching underneath his jacket “You can play hockey if you still want to when you’re bigger.”
“I do.”
“You’re five.”
“I still know.”
You kissed his forehead “Okay, mister NHL.”
His entire face lit up, because, unfortunately, giving Nico Dostál a nickname like mister NHL only encouraged him.
The team shop was busy, not overwhelmingly crowded yet, thankfully, but enough that you immediately became more aware of your surroundings.
You kept Nico close while he wandered between displays, examining everything as though he had personally been assigned to inspect the merchandise.
He picked up a miniature goalie stick, then another, then put the first one back, then picked it up again. You crossed your arms “Thoughtful decision?”
“Yes.”
“Very important purchase?”
“Very.”
You bit back your smile, a worker nearby noticed him and crouched slightly “That’s a pretty good stick.”
Nico nodded seriously “I need it.”
“Oh, you need it?”
“Yes Mommy, beacause I’m a goalie.”
You looked away for half a second because you already knew where this conversation was going. The employee smiled “You’re a goalie?”
Nico nodded enthusiastically “Like my daddy.”
“Oh yeah?”
“My daddy’s the Ducks goalie.”
The employee glanced at you, you gave them a small, slightly helpless smile. Nico continued before either adult could say anything “Lukáš Dostál.”
The employee’s eyebrows lifted, your son pointed proudly toward the back of his own jersey “Daddy.”
There was a pause, then the employee smiled much wider “Well, that’s pretty cool.”
“I know.”
You covered your mouth, Nico had absolutely no concept of humility when discussing his father.
None.
The employee gestured toward the miniature stick “So you’re going to be a goalie too?”
“Yes.”
“When you grow up?”
“I’m gonna play in the NHL.”
Another customer standing nearby looked over, Nico noticed which meant, naturally, that he now had an audience and Nico loved an audience when the topic was his father.
The man smiled at him “You’re going to play in the NHL?”
Nico nodded “Because my Daddy does.”
Simple, obvious and completely logical in the mind of a five-year-old.
The man laughed “Well, I guess you’ve got a pretty good teacher.”
“My daddy teaches me.”
That wasn’t entirely true. Lukáš mostly spent their backyard goalie sessions reminding Nico not to throw himself dramatically onto the ground every time the ball came within six feet of him.
But you weren’t about to ruin the story.
Nico turned toward you “Tell him mommy.”
You blinked “Tell him what baby?”
“That Daddy teaches me.”
You smiled “Daddy teaches you.”
“See?”
The man nodded solemnly “I believe you.”
Apparently satisfied, Nico returned to inspecting the sticks, you thought that would be the end of it but it was not. A woman recognized him near the hats “You’re Dostál’s little boy, right?”
Your immediate instinct was caution, your hand rested gently against Nico’s shoulder but the woman kept a respectful distance, smiling without trying to approach him.
Nico looked at you first, something you and Lukáš had taught him. You gave a small nod and Nico turned back “Yes.”
“Are you excited to watch your dad tonight?”
“Yes.” He held up the miniature stick he had finally selected “I’m gonna be goalie too.”
She smiled “You are?”
“In the NHL.”
You closed your eyes briefly “In the NHL?” she repeated. Nico nodded “Because Daddy does.”
Apparently this had become his official explanation, another fan nearby overheard “You’re going to be as good as your dad?”
Nico thought about that one, then shook his head. You smiled, expecting something surprisingly humble, Instead your son said
“Better.”
Your mouth dropped open “Nico!”
The adults around you burst into laughter, your son looked up at you, confused “What?”
“You cannot tell Daddy that.”
“I can.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“He’s playing tonight. We need him confident.”
Nico giggled, then the fan crouched slightly, still keeping distance “What number are you gonna wear?”
Nico froze, that was clearly something he had not properly considered, he looked down at his jersey. Then toward you “Daddy’s number.”
“You want Daddy’s number?”
“Yes.”
“What if Daddy is still playing?”
Nico stared at you, a genuinely troubled expression appeared on his face. You immediately regretted introducing logistics into a five-year-old’s NHL career plan.
Finally, Nico found the solution “We can both have it.”
“Perfect.” Crisis resolved.
By the time you reached the register, at least four different people had been informed that Nico Dostal intended to become an NHL goalie because his father was one.
And somehow, your usually fairly shy son had transformed into the unofficial spokesperson for the Dostál family.
The cashier scanned the miniature stick “You going to practice with this?”
“Yes.” Nico leaned slightly against the counter “I’m gonna play NHL.”
You rubbed your forehead, the cashier laughed “Really?”
“My daddy does.”
You mouthed an apology, the cashier shook their head, clearly amused “That makes sense.”
Nico nodded, exactly, someone finally understood.
You paid, and Nico insisted on carrying the little bag himself and before leaving, you crouched in front of him and zipped his jacket again “You happy now?”
“Yes.”
“You got what you needed?”
“Yes.”
“You’re ready to watch Daddy?”
He nodded, then suddenly wrapped both arms around your neck, you smiled, holding him close “Love you.”
“Love you, Mommy.”
You kissed his cheek “Come on. Daddy’s probably wondering where we are.”
That immediately got his attention “We see Daddy?”
“We’ll go downstairs for a few minutes before warmups.”
Nico grabbed your hand “Daddy needs to see my stick.”
“I’m sure Daddy is desperately waiting to see your stick.”
“He is.”
Lukáš was already partially dressed when you reached the family-access hallway near the locker room. Nico practically vibrated beside you while you waited for one of the staff members to tell Lukáš you were there.
The second his father appeared at the end of the hallway, Nico abandoned all attempts at walking normally “DADDY!”
Lukáš’s expression immediately changed, whatever game-day focus had been on his face disappeared the moment he saw his son running toward him
“Nico!” he bent down just in time for Nico to crash into him, Lukáš wrapped both arms around him and lifted him easily from the floor “Hey, buddy.”
Nico immediately started talking “Daddy, look, look, look!”
“I’m looking.”
“My stick.”
Lukáš examined the miniature goalie stick “Wow.”
“I bought it.”
“You bought it?”
“Mommy did.”
You laughed, Lukáš looked over Nico’s shoulder at you “Sounds more accurate.”
You stepped closer, he shifted Nico onto one arm and reached for you with the other. You immediately leaned into him and Lukáš kissed you softly “Hi love.”
“Hi.”
“You came through the front?”
“Nico needed something from the team shop.”
Lukáš looked at the stick “Needed?”
“Apparently.”
Nico nodded “I need it because I’m gonna play NHL.”
Lukáš smiled “Oh, are you?”
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
Nico looked personally offended “Daddy.”
You started laughing, Lukáš pressed his lips together, fighting his own smile “Sorry. Of course. I forgot.”
“I told everybody.”
Lukáš paused “You told everybody?”
“Yes.” You stepped closer, resting your hand against Lukáš’s arm “Everybody.”
Lukáš looked at you “How many people?”
“Anyone who made eye contact with him.”
Nico interrupted “I told them my daddy is goalie.”
Lukáš’s smile softened “Yeah?”
“And I’m gonna be goalie because Daddy does.”
Something in Lukáš’s face changed immediately, that playful smile became quieter, warmer and his eyes stayed on Nico “You wanna be like Daddy?”
Nico nodded “Yeah.”
Lukáš pulled him closer and kissed his temple “You don’t have to be like Daddy, buddy.”
Nico frowned “I want to.”
That nearly destroyed him, you could see it, Lukáš swallowed, looking briefly toward you before returning his attention to your little boy “You can be anything you want.”
“Goalie.”
“Okay.”
“NHL goalie.”
“Okay.”
“Better than you.”
You choked on your laugh, Lukáš slowly turned his head toward you “You let him say that?”
“I specifically told him not to tell you before the game.”
Nico giggled, Lukáš narrowed his eyes playfully at him “Better than Daddy?”
“Yes.”
“Wow.”
“I’m fast.”
“You are fast.”
“And I save pucks.”
“Sometimes.”
Nico gasped “Daddy!”
Lukáš laughed and hugged him tightly “I’m joking buddy, you’re the best goalie I know.”
Nico immediately looked satisfied, then he held the tiny stick between them “You teach me tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
Lukáš pretended to think “After Daddy’s practice?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“Promise?”
Lukáš kissed his cheek “Promise.”
Nico wrapped both arms around his neck, you watched them quietly. There were moments when Lukáš’s career felt enormous.
The crowds, the travel, the cameras, the pressure that came with being the man standing alone in front of a net while thousands of people watched every movement he made.
But Nico didn’t understand any of that yet.
He didn’t understand save percentages or contracts or standings, he didn’t care whether his father had allowed one goal or five.
To Nico, being an NHL goalie meant one thing, daddy did it and therefore it had to be the coolest job in the entire world.
Lukáš lowered Nico carefully onto the floor “I have to finish getting ready.”
Nico nodded seriously “Save everything.”
“I’ll try.”
“No goals.”
You laughed “Nico, give Daddy reasonable expectations.”
“No goals.”
Lukáš pointed at him “Okay. But if someone scores, you still love me?”
Nico’s face softened immediately “Yes.”
“How much?”
He stretched both arms as wide as he could “This much.”
Lukáš crouched and opened his own arms “That’s not enough.”
Nico immediately ran into him again, Lukáš caught him, laughing as he squeezed him tightly “This much?”
“More!”
Lukáš kissed both of his cheeks “Okay, okay.”
You eventually managed to separate them, Lukáš stood and kissed you once more before heading back toward the locker room “See you after.”
“Good luck.”
Nico cupped his hands around his mouth “GOOD LUCK, DADDY!” Lukáš turned around, walking backward for a few steps “Thanks, buddy!”
Then Nico shouted “I’M GONNA TAKE YOUR JOB!”
Lukáš stopped, you covered your face. A staff member farther down the hallway burst out laughing, Lukáš pointed dramatically at his five-year-old son “Not yet!”
Nico giggled wildly, Lukáš disappeared around the corner, you looked down at your child “Are you trying to motivate Daddy or emotionally destroy him before warmups?”
Nico grabbed your hand “I’m gonna be goalie.”
“I know.”
“In the NHL.”
“I know.”
“Because Daddy does.”
You smiled and squeezed his little hand “Yeah, baby.”
And as the two of you started toward your seats, Nico carried his tiny goalie stick proudly beside him, because as far as your five-year-old was concerned, his future was already decided.
He was going to grow up, he was going to wear goalie pads, he was going to play in the NHL and there was no bigger reason necessary than the one he had proudly told every person willing to listen.
summary: your big lovey foreign boyfriend doesn’t understand anything about social media, especially tiktok and the silly pranks that come along with it—making him the perfect victim to your sneaky recordings. AKA you being your boyfriend’s number 1 stress in life.
[word count] 3.7k
warnings: SFW! pre-established relationship | bad descriptions of tiktok trends | modern day phrases | kissing | mentions of sex | intimate touches | mature themes and dialogue | read at your own discretion
pairing: lukas dostal x reader
authors note: this is written in the 5 + 1 style because you guys know that’s like my favourite things to do! also this is my first dostal fic so yay me—I hope you all love this because it was so fun and cute to write. lace dividers from @cursed-carmine
prank no.1: the tinder debacle
you don't even try to hide your grin when you open the tiktok camera silently, angling it just enough to catch the couch and your boyfriend, naturally.
lukas is stretched out beside you, completely relaxed with one arm thrown behind his head, and the other resting across your legs like it belongs there. he's half watching tsn highlights on the tv, half paying attention to you—entirely unsuspecting to the way you're scheming right next to him.
perfect.
lukas isn't much of a social media guy. never has been from the moment you met him years ago and every second since. sure, he's got instagram, but he doesn't ‘get’ the reels you send him. tiktok may as well just be another form of watching hockey highlights. he doesn't find the silly pranks—girlfriends who rage bait their significant others for sport—not like you find them.
so when you found a video of a girl telling her boyfriend she saw his friend on tinder, warning her a very enthusiastic, delayed response, you just had to try it on lukas.
"—oh my god." you gasp suddenly, playing into the faux shock. you don't look up, keeping your eyes on your phone.
his head turns immediately. "what?" he asks, already pushing himself up a little. "what happened?"
you keep staring at your screen like you've just uncovered something scandalous. "babe," you start, wide eyed, "I just saw mason on tinder."
that gets him. lukas sits up properly now, attempting to lean closer, elbow digging into your thigh slightly."what? no way. let me see."
but you want to keep this going for another minute, so you obviously don't let him see your screen, because then he’d discover you’re just pulling his leg like a brag. brushing off the comment, you look up at him instead.
"doesn't he have a girlfriend?"
he hums, thinking, before settling on a single shoulder shrug. "don't remember. maybe—since when is he on tinder?"
you shrug as well, biting back a smile. "I don't know. that's so—" you shake your head, "—that's so weird."
lukas keeps looking for a second longer, processing, and then you can see the shift in his head. he leans back slightly, eyes flicking from the phone, and back to you. then again, slower.
"y/n?"
you hum, pretending not to notice, but you're watching the reaction through the camera like your own personal sitcom.
"why are you on tinder?" lukas practically pouts.
you glance back up at him like the question barely registers. "huh?"
his light brows pull together. "you're on tinder?" he repeats, more firmly now. "why are you on a dating app?"
you let the silence stretch just enough to make him overthink it. you have to hold your bottom lip between your teeth to try not to burst out laughing.
"hey," he sighs, softer but more serious, reaching for your wrist to get your attention. "why are you on tinder baby?"and he just looks so defeated and confused and you can't help but to finally break. not just because it's funny, but because you're starting to feel a little slimey.
"babe," a laugh slips out, then another, while you shake your head. "it's a prank, i'm filming." you turn your phone to show him you're not lying.
lukas blinks, looks at the phone and then towards you. "you're kidding."
you're still smiling. "nope."
there's a beat where he just stares at you, processing, before he exhales and drops his head back against the couch. "you're actually insane," he mutters, dragging a hand down his face.
you untangle yourself from the cushions and then wrap your arms around his neck, then you're pressing a million kisses to his jaw and cheek because you love him so much.
he huffs out a quiet laugh despite himself, shaking his head as he glances down at you. "my heart like stopped baby. I thought you were cheating on me."
there's something real in that, even if he tries to play it off. and it has you softening even more, still wrapped around him, holding him close. phone long forgotten by your socked foot.
"I would never."
he watches you for a second, like he's making sure. then he nods once, a slow smile settling on his face before he presses a tender kiss to your lips.
"good," he mutters against you, "don't do that again."
prank no.2: the all salad diet
the restaurant table is loud in that warm, familiar way—cutlery clinking, low conversation overlapping, one of the guys flirting with the brunette waitress as she goes around the table taking food orders. you already feel sorry for her getting stuck with your table—consisting of the entire ducks roster and their WAGS.
you're only half listening, half making sure you've got lukas in frame under the table. because of course you have to get him with another prank—the girlies on your tiktok page were so obsessed with your sexy, pouty boyfriend after the last one, you have to deliver again. and you can't even blame them.
hell, the little video you're getting ready for now was even sent to you by one of them.
lukas has never been big on pda, but he's got an arm hooked over the back of your chair anyways, thumb absently tracing along your shoulder like he's not even thinking about it. he's mid conversation with troy, nodding along, completely unaware of how you’re giggling to yourself.
the waitress makes her way down to your side of the table then, notepad in hand, smiling politely as she looks around the group. "alright, what can I get for you guys over here?"
a few of the guys and their gals start listing their orders—burgers, steaks and pastas. very normal and delicious sounding—but you don't plan on doing normal. when the waitress looks at your boyfriend expectantly, lukas promptly looks over at you, letting you go first.
it's your time to shine. with as much innocence as you can muster, you tilt your head up towards your boyfriend. voice sweet and casual, like it's a conversation you've had a hundred times.
"baby," you start, "do I have to get the salad this time or can I have the fries?"
it doesn't take as long as you thought it would for lukas to realize what you just asked him, and once he does, his head snaps back towards you with so much speed it's almost impossible.
the waitress grins like she's seen the trend, which, thank god.
he waits a second, like he's not entirely sure he heard you right. "what? why are you asking me that?"
you just blink at him innocently before continuing. "I kind of want the fries," you repeat, like it's obvious. "am I allowed that? or do I have to be healthy?"
his eyes flick briefly toward his teammates—then back to you—then to the waitress, who is still very much standing there, pen hovering, waiting with an amused twinkle in her eye.
he straightens slightly, completely thrown and therefore missing your phone angled at him under the table.
"I—" lukas starts, then stops. because he has no idea what the correct answer is."I didn't—" he tries again, lowering his voice a bit, leaning closer to you. "what are you talking about?"
you frown a little, like he's the confusing one. "you said I should get the salad."
"I did not say that," he says immediately, a little too quickly.
one of the guys across from you lets out a quiet, poorly hidden laugh, making you grin because everyone is catching on now except your poor boyfriend—who's getting a little pink in the cheeks.
"...you can order whatever you want," he tells you finally, careful, measured, like he's stepping through a minefield.
but you don't let up."but you said—"
"I didn't," your boyfriend is now insisting, a little more urgently now, turning toward you fully. "I never said you have to get a salad. why would I say that?"
a couple of the WAGS start hiding their faces with their hands to conceal laughter. troy is very obviously confused and looking at his goaltender like he's crazy. which is just the cherry on top.
lukas notices that, obviously, and he's full blown panicking. he rubs a hand over his jaw, clearly flustered, then glances at the waitress again, like he's aware she's still stuck in this. "just—get the fries," he says, quieter, to you. "please. get the fries. get whatever you want baby."
a laugh slips out, then another, before you can stop them. its only then that he notices your phone, and he's immediately shooting you an annoyed look that holds no real bite because the sight of your unfiltered joy gives him butterflies.
his large palm covers the camera and pushes it away. making you laugh harder.
you manage to mutter the words prank between laughing, rubbing your boyfriends spine when he drops his head and exhales hard—half-laughing but also half-mortified.
the table looses it.
you lean your head on lukas shoulder once he straightens, and despite everything, he wraps his arm around your hips, thick fingers sprawled over the crease of your thigh.
"you're so cute." you say, just for his ears while the waitress takes the last few orders down.
he looks back at you, narrowing his eyes slightly—but there's a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth now. "my panic is cute?"
"the cutest." you grin.
prank no.3: I don't love you back
his bag is already by the door, half zipped, an extra skate lace hanging out like he packed in a rush—even though you know he didn't. lukas always double checks everything before a road trip, which is why it's half open as he makes sure he's got what he needs; charger, headphones, passport in case things go funky, which happens too often to discuss.
you and your schemes, though? they’re the two things he doesn't double check.
your phone is tucked casually on the entry table, between a wicker basket he claims is pointless but you claim is decor, and the lamp—camera angled just enough to catch all of him and most of you in frame.
you're already recording, which he doesn't notice. mostly because he's too busy moving around the condo in that familiar pre roadie way—grabbing his jacket, checking his pockets, glancing back at you every few seconds like he's memorizing something.
you lean against the wall, arms crossed loosely over his oversized shirt, watching him. trying not to smile like a crazy woman.
"text me when you land," you say instead, like always.
"I will," he replies, like always.
lukas steps closer then, hands finding your waist automatically, pulling you in like it's second nature. presses a quick, soft and familiar kiss to your lips.
lets you go, then drags you in for another kiss because he's greedy, making you giggle into it.
"okay," he murmurs, pulling back just slightly. "I gotta go."
you nod, watching as he bends down (hello toned man butt!) to grab his bag. with the front door half open now, he looks back to you. "I love you baby."
and instead of saying it back like you desperately want to, you just hum softly, like you didn't even notice.
lukas buffers at that, eyebrows pull together slightly. "I said I love you."
"yeah," you nod, way too casual. "have a safe flight."
a thick beat of silence sits between you, his eyes burning into yours before he shuts the door and drops his back again. because what?
"okay," he says slowly. "and?"
you tilt your head, even going as far to look confused down at his bag. "and what?"
"no, don't do that," he says, shaking his head a little, a nervous half laugh slipping out. "say it back."
you shrug lightly, picking at your cuticles. "say... what?"
his eyes widen just a fraction. "what do you mean ‘say what?"
you have to bite back a smile at your boyfriends clear distress and utter confusion—because he’s just so easily gullible. lukas runs a hand through his hair, pacing one step back like he needs a second to process.
"I just said I love you," he repeats, pointing at himself like that clarifies everything. "you're supposed to say it back."
"am I?" you ask, way too innocent.
"yes," he stresses immediately. "you are if you love me back."
but you just look at him, still not saying it and trying really hard to not look at your phone.
"okay, wait—" he cuts himself off, stepping closer again, searching your face like he's missed something. then, in the most gentle, tender way, he grabs your waist, looking down at you as he mutters—"are you mad at me?"
and you just melt. you shake your head, half smiling as you wrap your arms around him. "i'm just pranking you, of course I love you. I love you so much, you big softie."
he deflates against you, "you're fucking brutal."
you laugh, leaning all your weight onto him. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry. they wanted it!" you point to your half hidden phone, and he follows your line of sight and groans.
"i'm leaving now."
"love you!" you chirp over enthusiastic, waving him off.
lukas hauls his bag over his shoulder, "yeah, yeah. love you too."
prank no.4: take me home
your phone is half tucked between two of the million fluffy pillow on your shared bed with lukas—all white and plush and comfy. it's angled just enough to catch him beside you, not under the blanket yet, like you, but lounging on top in his light gray sweats and no shirt.
he's scrolling through his emails, completely oblivious to the way you're getting ready to annoy him once again. behind the screen, you're already in a matching pj set, skin care still dewey, eye patches on and setting—you'll inevitably make lukas throw them out because you'll be too tired later. your state is what makes this prank too good to pass up, mostly because it just won't make any sense.
which is the point.
it's mostly quiet, save from the tv humming lowly in the background, until you shuffle around, camera picking up the rustling noise. "lukas?"
he looks up immediately. "you okay honey?"
you make show of glancing down at your hands, then back at him, like you're debating something. he puts his phone down, pushes higher up onto his elbow, eyebrows drawn together at the sight.
"I think I wanna go home." you manage after a beat.
like you predicted it would, confusion flickers across his face. "what?"
you give a small shrug. "I just...I don't know. I wanna go home."
he blinks at you, looks around the room and then back at you. lukas lets out a short, amused laugh, reaches out and runs a knuckle over your cheekbone. you just about melt. "we are home." he reassures you sweetly, like there’s a chance you’re sleeping talking or something.
you shake your head slightly. "no, like...I wanna go sleep at my parent's house."
he stills against you, absorbing the confession. it sits heavy in his chest, concern starting to creep in now. "hey—why? what's wrong?"
"nothing," you say quickly.
"that doesn't sound like nothing." he leans in closer now, probably shifting your phone without noticing. lukas pouts down at you, sweet and gentle, and you have to look away so you don't immediately crack, damn it.
you shrug again, still not meeting his gaze. "I just need some space, I guess"
he studies you for a second, trying to piece it together. "from me?"
you hesitate just enough to make it worse. make it believable. "I don't know," you tell him quietly.
lukas sighs, runs a hand through his hair and then kisses your temple. once and quick. "okay, i'm sorry." but as he leans back, the mattress dips and your phone reveals itself. immediately he eyes it, sees that you're recording and instantly knows what's happening.
"I thought you were serious," he all but whines, looking back at you, a little incredulous. "what is wrong with you?"
you giggle, "i'm so funny."
at that, he flops down on top of you, smothering you with all his weight. you squeal, "get off me. you're heavy!"
"and you're a mean girl," your boyfriend says, but he's smirking so there's no real bite to it. he pushes himself up, hovering you now. "must be looking for a punishment, yes?"
you gasp like you're scandalized, but your nipples pucker automatically. "baby! i'm filming."
prank no.5: get pantsed!
unlike the usual pranks you choose to rage bait lukas with, this one doesn't need a hidden camera. your phone is already set up on the kitchen island, leaning against a flower vase, very obviously recording already.
behind you, lukas is raising a skeptical eyebrow, watching as you move to stand beside him. he's got on sweats and a team branded long sleeve, which is somehow drool worthy on him.
"what are you doing?" he prompts.
you gently place your hands on his hips, "i'm trying to prove something."
"what's that?"
you peer up at him, "that I can lift you up."
at that, he barks a loud laugh—full and disbelieving—already attempting to pry you small hands off of him. "you can't lift me."
scoffing, you take a step back. "yes, I can."
"no, you can't," lukas contradicts immediately, shaking his head. "that's not happening."
"why not?"
"because I'm bigger than you," he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "that's why."
you roll your eyes. "okay, rude. first of all—strength isn't just size."
he snorts. "okay, sure. go ahead then." he uncrosses his arms, gesturing at himself. "lift me then."
you step closer again, squaring up like you're actually about to try. you round to his backside and place your hands on his hips again—lukas smiles, completely unconcerned, and most of all, oblivious. also momentarily distracted by how tiny you looks behind him, completely swallowed up by all of his broad self.
"careful," he adds, teasing, "don't hurt yourself."
you bend slightly—because he's a fucking giant—arms wrapping around his waist like you're getting into position. and then you try, or at least, you make it look like you're trying. a little huff of effort, a small shift like you're attempting to lift him. of course he barley moves.
"yeah," he says, grinning now at the camera like a smug bastard, "that's what I thought—"
and that's when you hook your fingers into the waistband of his sweats and yank them down in one quick and clean motion. it almost takes his boxers down too, which makes you cackle.
thankfully—or unfortunately, depending—lukas grabs them before anything scandalous makes an appearance. "what are you doing?!" he jumps away from you and pulls his sweats back up at the speed of light.
you're doubled over, laughing so hard you can't breathe. "oh my god," you gasp, pointing at him, "your face!"
"that's so—" he cuts himself off and exhales sharply, tugging his shirt down like that somehow restores his dignity. "that's so not funny."
you make eye contact with him and immediately start laughing harder.
lukas tries to stay annoyed. he really does. but there's a smile fighting its way through."you're actually unbelievable," he mutters, shaking his head.
then while you’re still caught off guard, he darts forward like a linebacker and then promptly tosses you over his shoulder. you squeal while lukas walks you both over the the camera, where he then flexes the bicep that’s not aorund your upper thighs, and then slaps your ass like a neanderthal.
bonus: can you hear this?
the phone is already recording when you flop down onto the bed beside lukas, and you’re also already looking mischievous when you burrow into his side.
he barely glances up from where he's scrolling, one arm tucked behind his head, completely relaxed. "what are you doing now?" he hums, suspicious—but not that suspicious, because he knows you’re filming.
"science," you say seriously.
that gets his attention, because literally what could you possibly be going on about. slowly, lukas lowers his phone to sit flat against his chest and then turns his head towards you. “science?”
you sit up a little, and hook your leg over his hips. keeping him from escaping your clutches—not that he would, because your boyfriend is exactly where he wants to be. "I saw this thing," you explain, "and I need to test it."
he squints at you, big mitt rubbing over the globe of your ass absentmindedly. "that never ends well for me."
you ignore that. "okay, so apparently," you continue, already trying not to laugh, "if I scream into your mouth, the camera won't pick it up properly."
there’s a long pause where your boyfriend just stares at you, absorbing the absurdity that came out of your mouth. “you want to…scream into my mouth?”
and it’s not even a prank, truly. you’re straight up just curious to see if lukas will let you do this silly trend with him. so you’re fully serious when you answer—"I need to see if it works."
he blinks, looks at the camera and then back at you. “you come up with the craziest things baby.”
giggling, you lean in closer, already getting ready. “come on, just open your mouth.”
"no," he says immediately, turning his head away slightly. "i’m not doing that."
you follow him, persistent and pouting. "please. it’ll take two seconds."
"I don't trust you," lukas breathes a laugh, narrowing his eyes.
you gasp. "when have I ever—" the look he sends you cuts you off. "...okay, fair," you admit, then grab his wrist lightly. "but this isn’t a prank."
he hesitates. “this is so stupid.” but then, slowly, he leans closer. opens his mouth, just slightly, like he already regrets every life decision that led him here.
you immediately light up with glee.
"make it quick." lukas mutters, but he’s already smiling seeing you so worked up.
"okay, ready?" you ask, small hand reaching up to steady his jaw—keeping him still for when you inevitably put your mouth against his.
he nods once, already bracing himself.
so you lean in, slot your mouth over his, and then scream louder than humanely possible.
he jerks back instantly, choking on a laugh and the sheer shock of it, slapping a hand over his mouth as he coughs. "babe—" he coughs again, laughing now, completely thrown. "what was that?!"
you fall back onto the bed, laughing so hard you can barely breathe. "oh my god—do you think it worked?!"
lukas is still trying to recover, wiping at his mouth like that somehow fixes it. "you just yelled into my soul," he tells you, voice hoarse, half laughing yet half offended.
"wait—wait—" you reach for your phone, just needing to check the recording, still giggling to yourself at the idea.
lukas watches you, shaking his head, a smile breaking through anyway. "you’re actually unbelievable," he mutters, but he’s already crowding you, peering over your shoulder to watch the playback as well.
obviously, the sound can be heard in the video because your sounded like a banshee, and needless to say, you and lukas can’t stop laughing at the video for an hour afterwards—cuddling in bed, doubled over and loosing it.
comments
user1: he trusted you 😭😭
user2: the way he just sat there processing..
user3: he’s rethinking every life decision right now
—> user4: nah he’s exactly where he wants to be
user5: the size difference 😍😍
user6: protect lukas at all costs
user7: girl he’s in LOVE with you
—> yourusername isn’t he just so precious 😭
user8: straight to jail. no trail.
user9: you can see the exact moment his soul left his body
user10: they’re my roman empire
user11: wait why is nobody taking about that ass slap 😍😍 I don’t know who i’m more jealous of
