You should’ve known something was wrong when Luke texted you:
LUKE: Date night tonight. Just us.
The emphasis on just us should’ve been your first warning sign.
You were ten minutes into the date,ten,when Jack ruined everything.
You and Luke were sitting at a small corner table in a quiet restaurant, the kind with dim lighting and soft music. Luke looked nervous in a way you found painfully cute, fiddling with his napkin, glancing at you like he couldn’t quite believe this was real.
“This place is nice,” you said, smiling.
Luke relaxed a little. “Yeah? I wanted something calm.”
“Mission accomplished,” you teased.
He grinned. “Good. Because I,”
“LUKE!”
The voice echoed through the restaurant like a fire alarm.
You froze.
Luke physically flinched.
Slowly, both of you turned.
Jack stood at the entrance, hands on his hips, eyes wide like he’d just discovered buried treasure.
“Oh my god,” Jack said loudly. “You are here.”
Luke closed his eyes. “No.”
You blinked. “Is that,”
“Yes,” Luke muttered. “That’s Jack.”
Jack marched over, pulling out the chair opposite you and sitting down without asking. “This is crazy. I was just walking by and thought, ‘Wow, that guy looks like Luke Hughes but less attractive.’ And then I realized,it was Luke Hughes.”
Luke stared at him. “Why are you here.”
Jack shrugged. “I’m hungry.”
“You live ten minutes away.”
“And yet,” Jack said smugly, “here I am.”
You bit your lip to keep from laughing.
Luke noticed. “Don’t encourage him.”
Jack leaned toward you. “She likes me. I can tell.”
“She tolerates you,” Luke corrected.
Jack waved him off. “Same thing.”
The waitress arrived, looking confused. “Um… is he joining you?”
“No,” Luke said instantly.
“Yes,” Jack said at the same time.
You smiled politely. “He’s… emotionally joining us.”
Jack snapped his fingers. “Exactly.”
Luke leaned back in his chair, exasperated. “Jack, go away.”
Jack gasped. “Wow. Rude. In front of your girlfriend too.”
You tilted your head. “You third-wheel a lot, don’t you?”
Jack grinned. “It’s a gift.”
Luke groaned. “It’s a curse.”
Jack pointed at Luke. “He pretends he hates it, but if I stopped, he’d miss me.”
Luke shot him a look. “I absolutely would not.”
“Liar,” Jack said. “You’d text me within a week.”
You laughed. Luke turned red. “Okay, this was supposed to be romantic.”
Jack nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah… I sensed that. That’s why I came.”
Luke stared. “You came because of that?”
“Obviously.”
You covered your mouth. “You’re evil.”
Jack beamed. “Thank you.”
Somehow, despite Luke’s best efforts, Jack stayed. He ordered food. He stole fries. He told embarrassing childhood stories. Luke spent most of the dinner glaring at him while you laughed so hard your sides hurt.
By the time you left the restaurant, Luke was halfway to dramatic resignation.
“Okay,” Luke said firmly as you stepped outside. “Jack. We’re going home. Separately.”
Jack blinked. “What? No. I’m bored.”
Luke pointed down the street. “Your apartment is literally that way.”
Jack squinted. “I don’t like that direction.”
You laughed. “Luke, just let him walk with us.”
Luke turned to you, betrayed. “You too?”
“I’m sorry,” you said sweetly. “He’s kind of entertaining.”
Jack fist-pumped. “YES.”
Luke sighed. “I need new brothers.”
You walked a few blocks together, the city lights glowing around you. Luke tried to hold your hand.
Jack immediately wedged himself between you.
“Oh my god,” Luke snapped. “MOVE.”
“What?” Jack said innocently. “I’m just existing.”
“You’re aggressively existing.”
Jack slung an arm around Luke’s shoulders. “See? We’re bonding.”
Luke shoved him off. “You’re ruining the vibe.”
Jack shrugged. “The vibe is overrated.”
You reached around Jack and grabbed Luke’s hand anyway. Luke squeezed back immediately, like he’d been waiting for it.
Jack looked down. “Wow. Disrespectful.”
Luke smirked. “Good.”
You stopped walking suddenly. “Jack.”
He looked at you. “Yeah?”
“Do you do this on purpose?”
Jack considered it. “Yes.”
Luke groaned. “WHY.”
Jack smiled. “Because you’re different with her.”
Luke frowned. “Different how?”
“You’re soft,” Jack said simply. “And it’s annoying.”
You raised your eyebrows. Luke stared at him.
“That’s… not an insult,” Luke said.
Jack shrugged. “Didn’t say it was.”
You smiled. “He’s protective.”
“Disgustingly so,” Jack agreed. “You should see him when she’s late replying.”
Luke turned red. “Stop.”
Jack ignored him. “He paces. Like a dad.”
Luke pointed at him. “You are never telling anyone that.”
“Oh, I’m absolutely telling everyone.”
By the time you reached your apartment, Luke looked exhausted.
“Okay,” Luke said, opening the door. “Jack. This is where you leave.”
Jack stepped inside. “Wow. Cozy.”
Luke froze. “Why are you inside.”
Jack shrugged. “I assumed I was invited.”
“You were not.”
You laughed, toeing off your shoes. “Jack, you want a drink?”
Luke whipped his head toward you. “NO.”
Jack gasped. “She wants me here.”
Luke stared at you, betrayed all over again. “You’re enjoying this.”
You smiled. “Just a little.”
Jack plopped onto the couch. “So. How long have you two been disgustingly in love?”
Luke crossed his arms. “We’re not,”
“Six months,” you said.
Luke blinked. “Why did you answer that.”
Jack nodded. “Knew it.”
Luke ran a hand through his hair. “Jack, please. I just wanted one night. One.”
Jack looked at him, expression softening just slightly. “You’ll get it.”
“When?” Luke asked.
“Eventually,” Jack said. “Probably when I get a girlfriend.”
You tilted your head. “And when will that be?”
Jack shrugged. “Never. I thrive on chaos.”
Luke dropped onto the couch beside you, defeated. “I hate you.”
Jack smiled. “Love you too.”
There was a pause.
Then Jack stood. “Alright. I’ll go.”
Luke looked up. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Jack said. “I’ve done enough damage for one night.”
You smiled. “Thank you.”
Jack grinned. “Anytime.”
He headed for the door, then paused. “Oh,and Luke?”
Luke sighed. “What.”
“You’re lucky,” Jack said. “Don’t mess it up.”
Luke blinked, caught off guard. “I won’t.”
Jack nodded, satisfied, and left.
The door closed.
Silence.
Luke leaned back, rubbing his face. “I’m so sorry.”
You laughed, turning toward him. “That was the most chaotic date I’ve ever been on.”
“And?”
“And I kind of loved it.”
He smiled weakly. “You’re insane.”
You leaned in, kissing him softly. “But I’m yours.”
Luke melted instantly, hands pulling you closer. “Worth every interruption.”
You rested your forehead against his. “Even Jack?”
synopsis: luke's always been clingy, borderline obsessed with you. up until this week that is. now, it's up to you to figure out why.
inspo: my man on willpower by sabrina carpenter
a/n: is it obvious my fav hughes brother is luke orrr? 😩
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Cold, distant, and clipped are the only three adjectives that can properly describe your boyfriend for the past week.
You don't get it. You hadn't disagreed on anything, much less argued.
Everything was great Sunday night in bed, but by the time he came back home from morning skate he had suddenly become someone else. Someone that's nothing like your Luke.
"Hey, babe?", you yell to the bedroom.
All you get is a grunt of acknowledgement, instead of the usual "Yeah, baby?". You don't think you can deal with this version of him for much longer.
You practically stomp your way to the bedroom. Before opening the door, you inhale and exhale three times. This one's going to be a doozy and a half.
"Luke? You okay?", you ask in your gentlest tone.
He nods, eyes fixed to the wall like it's his greatest enemy.
"I-Uh, I don't know what's going on lately with you, Luke. You were fine on Sunday, but you've been weird since Monday morning. Is there a reason?", you ask.
He pales a bit but shakes his head.
You decide if he won't say it himself, you won't force it out of him.
"Alright, if you do want to talk about it...I'm always here", you finish. You can't help the sadness on your face and the way you play with your fingers to hide how nervous you are.
Before you close the door, you hear the bed sheets rustle and Luke get up.
"I-I'm sorry. I'm being stupid", he mutters.
"You're not. Whatever's got you shaken up isn't stupid, Lukey. I just wish you would open up so I could help you, or, I don't know...at least share the burden."
He gets close enough to get a hold of your hands and to interlace your fingers.
"It's the guys. In the locker room", he admits. You look up at him, confused.
"They were joking around and stuff about how we should all hit the bar downtown. I-I told them I'd skip out and go home. Told them you were waiting for me and that tonight's date night", he further explained.
"Yeah?", you gently allow him to continue.
"They said I was too in love. Obsessed. That they bet you're sick and tired of me being so clingy", he finally finishes.
You look up at him and brush the curls off his forhead. "And you believed them?", you ask.
He nods, suddenly looking unsure.
"Luke. I could never be tired of you, first of all. Secondly, I love how you are. All of it. I love how you hug me while we brush our teeth at night and how you wrap your legs around me while we sleep", you say.
"You don't wish I was more cool and distant?", he asks.
"God, no. I would hate that. Y'know Melanie, right?", at this he looks down at you and nods. "Well, her boyfriend's like that. She hates it. So much, Luke. To the point that she's been planning how to break up with him for the past week!"
He looks stunned. He hadn't thought that the way he loved you was right because of the guys. He thought loving you out loud less would result in you loving him more.
"God, I'm stupid. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let them get in my head like that", he apologized profusely. You swear you see tears start to well in his eyes.
"Don't apologize. Just talk to me next time, yeah?" He nods and wraps his arms around you.
"Noted. Never listen to the idiots in the locker room ever again." You chuckle and draw circles on his clothed back.
Sometimes all it takes is a bit of reassurance and a whole lot of willpower for your man to love you his way again. The right way.
Request: "hey girly pop! can you write a luke hughes fic where his gf takes care of him after his shoulder surgery? lots of fluff 🥺"
Summary: after Luke gets injured, he wants all the attention he can get, asking you to do small tasks for him. you're happy to take care of him as he recovers.
note: i don't know much about injury/surgery/recovery, so ignore anything that doesn't make sense. its fiction anyway :)
Warnings/themes: luke hughes x f!reader, afab!reader, established relationship, use of y/n, injured luke, lowkey cutsie i think
Word count: 2,556
The flight to Colorado for Luke’s shoulder surgery was quiet. He barely speaks unless prompted, so you remained quietly supportive out of respect for him. You had gone with him, obviously, because he could not go through something like this without you.
Even after landing, he barely talked. You knew he was pretty down about the whole situation, but you hadn’t realized how much it got to him until all the surgery plans were made.
After his last injury, he had explained that he was worried about getting so many injuries that his ability to play hockey would be permanently affected, so you pretty much knew exactly why he was upset, and it was understandable.
Sitting with Luke in the waiting room is even quieter. His gaze is fixed on the floor as his good shoulder leans against your side. You can sense his nervousness, so you pull his hand into yours and gently caress his palm.
Finally, when his name is called, you pat his knee as a way to tell him that you’ll be there for him when he wakes up.
Luke stands, looking down at you. “Thank you for coming with me,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead.”
You smile, catching his lips briefly before he pulls away. “Anytime, my love.” You gesture him towards the waiting doctor and watch as he disappears into the hallway.
—
As you walk into the room after Luke’s successful surgery, you’re greeted by the sterile smell before you see Luke lying on the clinic bed. He hasn’t woken up yet, but he looks calmer than he has in a long time.
There is a chair right beside the bed, so you take a seat, looking over his peaceful face. Your hand gently finds his cheek as you caress the soft skin with your thumb.
You had texted the Hughes family group chat before entering the room to let them know that the surgery was successful.
Your eyes jump to a stray curl that falls over his eyelid, and you gently brush it away with your fingertips. Just then, his eyes begin to flutter.
You smile at his scrunched expression as he takes in the bright lights along with the rest of his surroundings.
“Welcome back, love,” you say to him in a hushed voice, watching as his eyes drift over to you.
He manages a smile when he’s conscious enough to understand what’s going on.
“You stayed,” he says quietly, very pleased at the fact that you were there the second he woke up.
You lean in, pressing a quick peck to his lips. “Of course I did, honey.”
Just then, your phone rings. You sigh, annoyed at the interruption. But before you can ignore it, Luke tells you to look at it.
“It’s Jack,” you say, answering the phone and bringing it up to your ear.
“Hello?” You hear from the other end.
“Hey,” you reply.
“How’s my baby brother doing?” He asks in a teasing tone.
You smile, looking at Luke. “He’s doing great. Just woke up, actually. Wanna say hi?” You reply.
“Put me on speaker,” Jack demands playfully. You follow his instructions, tapping the button to put the phone on speaker.
“Hi, Jacky,” Luke says with a smile, eyes closing again.
“Hey, Lukey. How are you feeling?” He asks, a smile clear in his voice.
Luke huffs out a breath of air, almost a laugh. “Tired,” he says.
“Well,” Jack says. “I’m glad you’re ok. I was just calling to check in. I’ll let you go now,” he adds. “I love you, and I’ll see you in Michigan in a few days.
“I love you too, bro,” he replies, opening his eyes again to look at you.
You smile back at him, turning the phone off of speaker and pulling it back to your ear. “Thanks for checking in on him, Jack. It means a lot to him. We’ll see you soon.”
“See ya,” you hear before the phone hangs up.
—
After days of living in a hotel and going in and out of the clinic to make sure everything is still fine, you and Luke finally fly up to Michigan. You both sleep the whole flight, making the long-awaited summer destination arrival feel sooner.
You carry your own bag out of the airport and to the Uber, much to Luke’s dismay (since he only has one hand).
Alas, you arrive at the lake house, greeted by the rest of the Hughes family the second you step out of the Uber. Quinn grabs your bags from the car, rushing them up to the porch before running back over to say hello.
“Made it back in one piece, I see,” Quinn says to Luke as he pulls him into a side-hug, avoiding his injured shoulder.
Luke chuckles, patting Quinn’s back in return. “Luckily so,” he replies.
Then, Quinn makes his way over to you with a warm smile. “Hey, y/n. Thanks for taking care of him,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and patting your back.
“No problem, Quinn,” you say, hugging him back. “It’s good to see you!”
Then, Luke’s parents begin patting his back, kissing his face, hugging him, and fussing over him, as any worried parents would.
“I’m so glad the surgery went well, honey,” says a smiling Ellen. “We were worried sick.”
Luke smiles, hugging his parents and reassuring them that he is, indeed, doing great.
Suddenly, you hear the front door fly open and the very familiar sound of Jack yelling. Seconds later, Jack is wrapped around his little brother, carefully, of course, mindful of his injured shoulder.
“Lukey, you’re back!” Jack shouts gleefully with a laugh. “I missed you!”
Luke cackles, trying to push his brother away. “I saw you a week ago!” He exclaims, referring to their brief goodbye in their shared New Jersey apartment.
“Which means I haven’t seen you for a week!” He fights back, attempting to justify his earlier statement.
Everybody joins in on the laughter as Quinn walks over again to drag Jack away from his youngest brother.
“Don’t worry, Luke. When I got here, I got an even crazier greeting from this one,” he says, ruffling Jack’s hair playfully.
“I believe it,” Luke says, smiling and shaking his head.
After a couple more minutes of chatter, you all make your way inside, carrying your bags up to the room you and Luke share every summer.
As you begin to unpack your bag, Luke flops dramatically onto the bed, watching you with puppy dog eyes.
You glance at him briefly, only to look back down and continue your act with a smile.
“Sweetheart?” Luke calls, inching closer to you.
“Yes, Lu?” You answer, looking up at him as you neatly lay clothes on the bed.
“I’m hungry,” Luke says shyly, smiling at you hopefully.
You raise an eyebrow. “Then go get a snack, honey,” you tell him, focusing back on your chore.
Luke frowns and groans theatrically. “But it tastes better when you get it for me,” he whines.
You roll your eyes, but you don’t hide your smile. “Let me guess,” you start. “You’re gonna use this injury as an excuse to make me take care of you like a baby, and you’re going to milk it as long as you possibly can.”
Luke smirks proudly. “Spot on,” he says. “You’re so smart, baby.”
You grin, leaning closer to him. “I know.”
“Now, can you pretty please get me something to eat?” He pleads, puppy dog eyes returning.
You roll your eyes again while laughing. “Of course, honey. Come downstairs with me, I’ll make you something.”
Luke’s eyes light up with excitement as he jumps out of bed. As you make your way down to the kitchen, Luke follows right behind you like a lost puppy.
As you start digging for the things you need, you half expect Luke to sit patiently at the island. But you couldn’t be more wrong. He is very much in the way, trying to stay as close to you as possible.
“Luke, honey, I love you,” you say, cupping his cheek in one hand. “But you are really getting in the way.”
Luke melts into your touch, placing his good hand over yours. “I just like being near you, pretty,” he replies.
You smile up at him. “I like being near you, too, but I can’t make you food if you’re in the way.”
He sighs with feigned annoyance, stepping back until he can sit down at one of the stools against the counter. He props his chin in his non-slung hand, looking at you with love in his eyes.
You smile at him for a moment before returning to your task.
—
After thirty minutes of cooking, you finally place an easy meal in front of Luke, taking your seat beside him.
He smiles and nods at you to show appreciation for taking the first bite. You see the way his eyes light up immediately as he eats what you provided him. When he swallows, he turns to you with a soft smile.
“Thank you, my love. This tastes amazing.” He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. He may be injured and needy, but you never stopped being his baby.
“Anytime, honey.” You smile proudly.
—
After eating and getting everything put away, the two of you travel back upstairs for an early bedtime. Traveling has made you two very understandably tired, so getting to rest up before having fun all summer sounds very nice.
Luke flops down onto the bed again, right when he gets to the room. You chuckle softly, walking over to sit beside him.
“Lukey,” you call, rubbing his back gently.
“Yes, baby?” He replies.
“I think we should shower before we go to bed,” you tell him, grimacing at the thought of going to bed without showering after being on a plane and in an Uber.
Luke groans. “But how am I supposed to do that with one arm?” He asks, looking at you with frustrated eyes, but you see right through him.
You sigh, smiling. “Do you need help?” You ask him, already knowing the answer.
Luke perks up, smiling bigger than ever. “Yes, please,” he says.
You giggle, standing up again and beginning to walk towards the bathroom. You turn around, beckoning him to follow you.
He listens, joining you in the doorway before you continue walking to the bathroom. You flick the bathroom light switch and search for towels in the cabinet, and Luke decides to be helpful and turn the water on so that it can start warming up.
Luke tries to pull his hoodie with low effort, and he obviously fails. “Y/n, can you help me?”
You laugh, walking over to help. You gently pry away his sling, setting it neatly on the counter. Then, you very carefully pull his hoodie over his head, making sure to avoid injuring his shoulder again.
You succeed at your task, placing the discarded hoodie beside his sling on the counter. You let him finish undressing as you do the same for yourself. Then, the two of you step into the shower together.
Luke pulls you close, resting his chin on your shoulder and inhaling calmly as the warm water runs down his back.
“I love you,” he says peacefully, already winding down for the day. You can tell he’s super tired, and you find it sweet.
“I love you too, honey,” you reply, playing with the hair on the back of his head.
—
The two of you wash up, getting rid of all the airport germs. Finally, you stand in the water, washing your hair as Luke watches. When you finish rinsing out all of the shampoo, Luke speaks softly.
“Can you help me wash my hair?” He asks shyly.
You can tell he is more sheepish asking for this because it is something he actually needs help with. “Of course, baby,” you say.
You gather a pump of shampoo into your hands as he bows his head down for you, since he is quite a bit taller. When you can reach, you begin gently massaging the shampoo into his hair. You hear him sigh contentedly, and you smile.
“You’re too good to me,” he tells you as you continue running your fingers through his hair.
“It’s nothing,” you reply.
“No, seriously,” he says. “I keep asking you to do ridiculous things, and you just… do them.”
You smile again. “It’s called love, honey. I’m here for you always.”
He lifts his head as you remove your hands from his hair, smiling at you with a mess of curls and suds atop his head. “Seriously, thank you. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Lukey,” you reply. There is a brief moment of silence before you begin rinsing the soap out of his hair. He looks unfairly beautiful with the water running over his closed eyes.
When you finish, the two of you step out onto the floor mat. You wrap a towel around yourself before helping Luke wrap one around his hips.
You pick up everything left on the counter and make your way back to your shared room together. You set the things down on the dresser before digging for pajamas.
For Luke, you find a hoodie and sweatpants, and for yourself, you find short shorts and one of Luke’s t-shirts. You lay them all out on the bed as Luke sits on his side.
You put your pajamas on first, and then, without asking, you walk over and help Luke put his pajamas on. As you finish, you look up to see him smiling down at you with a lovesick look in his eyes.
You smile back. “What’s that look for?” You ask.
“You’re so good to me,” he says, pulling you in with his good arm, resting his chin in your head. You wrap your arms around his middle, gently running your hand over his back.
“You’re worth it,” you reply, muffled into his chest.
Luke presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, running his hand through your hair. “I love you,” he says.
“I love you too, Lukey,” you reply. When the two of you finally pull apart, you help Luke put his sling back on as he sighs in disapproval. You know how uncomfortable it is, but you both know he has to wear it.
Finally, the two of you climb into bed together. You lie on your back, and Luke curls up carefully against your side. He nuzzles his face against your neck, doing his best to get comfortable.
“What do you think about sleeping in really late tomorrow?” You ask Luke.
“I like that idea,” he replies, sleepy and barely there.
“Goodnight, Lu,” you say to him.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he replies.
You lie awake, waiting to fall asleep until he does. It doesn’t take long at all. Only minutes later, you hear his breathing even out and feel his heartbeat steady against your arm.
The sound of him breathing and the warmth of him sleeping next to you lull you to a deep sleep as well, peaceful beside your favorite, injured boy.
As much as you hate to admit it, you are happy to be the doctor he has at home.
a/n: lovedddd writing this, i'll prob make it a 2-3 part series overtime! I am pretty busy though so who knows when i'll get to it...
request -> hey! can you write a luke hughes x athletic trainer!reader where he comes and sees her almost after every practice claiming his shoulder hurts? thanks!!
Luke Hughes Masterlist
The air is thick with sweat and antiseptics, the scent overtaking the physical trainer room. You’re cleaning your exam table, getting rid of all the sweat and grime that your last patient, Dawson, left on the table. Chatter from the hallway mixed with the sound of sticks being set against the wall signals the end of practice. You busy yourself by organizing supplies and writing your latest report of Dawson’s minor injury while you wait for your newest patient since you started this job: Luke Hughes. The youngest Hughes brother has been coming to your exam table after every practice claiming his shoulder hurts, yet every time you tell him that you need to inform Keefe, Luke blanches and tells you it no longer hurts.
Luke always comes in 10 minutes after the team gets off the ice, walking into the exam room like a sheepish little kid who was caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar. “Knock knock.” You turn to face the door where a sweaty, tired looking Luke Hughes stands. “Good morning Luke! How may I help you today?” He smiles shyly and gestures to his shoulder, the one he’s been claiming that hurts. “My, uh, my shoulder hurts.” You motion him forward and pat your exam table, urging him to sit down and let you look at his shoulder. Luke walks forward and immediately sits down right where you patted the table, listening to you like a well trained puppy. “Luke, I'm going to need you to be a little more specific. Where exactly does it hurt? What’s your pain level? If you want me to help you, you have to give me the tools to help.”
Luke nods and shyly flickers his eyes up to you before looking back down at his lap. “Um yeah, sorry.” He rolls his shoulders back, winces, and raises his other hand to poke at the area surrounding his labrum. “It hurts right here, like it did when I hurt my shoulder last year. Oh, and I would say it hurts like a, uh, 4 out of 10.” You nod, write down what he’s saying on your chart before carefully moving his shoulder, occasionally asking if what you’re doing hurts. “Okay Luke can you please take off your shirt for me.” Luke’s head snaps up to look at you, his cheeks flush into a bright red color, his mouth gaps open like a fish out of water. “W-Why, um, why d-do you need me to?”
You smile at him, “Your shirt is constricting your movements. In order for me to work I’m going to need your shoulder to move around freely.” Luke nods and forms an ‘O’ with his mouth before shrugging off his shirt. The moment your hands touch Luke’s bare shoulder and upper chest he shudders, a full body shudder. You hesitate for a second, “Sorry. Are my hands cold?” Luke shakes his head and mutters a quiet ‘no’ before looking back down at his lap. You move gently but diligently, making sure not to miss a single twinge or quirk Luke makes. “Well Luke, your shoulder feels fine and is moving perfectly. I can give you some minor pain medication but other than that I just recommend doing your shoulder exercises.”
Luke nods and grabs his shirt, putting it back on before standing and walking to the door. He stops in the doorframe and looks back over his shoulder at you. You’re standing with your back towards him, writing something down on your charts. Luke breathes in, the scent of your perfume short circuits his brain. It makes him forget, for only a second, what your hands felt like on his body and the way he yearns for your hands to travel and canvas the rest of him. He takes one last look at you before opening his mouth, words leaving him the moment right when he decides to finally ask you the question that’s been on his mind for months. He shakes his head before finally walking out of the exam room and back into the locker room. “Struck out again, huh?”
“Shut up Jack.”
────────── ❤︎ ──────────
Luke is going through withdrawals. Specifically, you withdrawals. He hasn’t seen you, talked to you, or even heard your voice in a week. You are all that Luke has talked about making Jack feel like he is losing his mind. But now? Now, Luke is hurrying Jack out of the car so they can enter the Prudential Center for their afternoon practice. Jack just laughs to himself as he watches his love struck brother race through the back halls of The Rock so he can see you again. Luke’s mind is racing but that doesn’t stop him from talking a million miles an hour about everything that includes you. Your hair, your smile, your laugh, everything. Jack has to jog to catch up with Luke’s long strides in order to physically hold him back from entering your exam room like a bull in a china shop.
“Luke, bud, we need to practice and we’re already late so we can't waste anymore time.” Luke whips his head back to look at Jack, “Speaking to her is not a waste of time!” Jack rolls his eyes at Luke’s whiney outburst and just throws an arm around Luke before leading him towards the locker room, “After practice Luke, then you can go see her.” Luke hesitates before nodding his head, casting one more glance at your room before walking with Jack to practice.
Luke swears this has been the longest practice he’s ever attended, it also wasn’t the best he’s ever performed at practice. He was constantly zoning out, missing passes, and stumbling around the ice. You consume his thoughts, nothing could tear his mind away from the thought of you. Well…except one thing. “HUGHES!” Keefe’s voice shatters Luke’s thoughts like a glass bottle shattering on the floor. He looks up at his coach in alarm, the team has gone silent and are now awkwardly looking between Luke and Keefe.
“Luke! Where the hell is your head? You’re playing like shit!” Luke gulps and looks down in shame. Luke apologizes, hoping that will appease his coach but Keefe just shakes his head in response and dismisses the team. Luke sulks off the ice, unlike the last time Luke was leaving the ice after practice, his excitement to see you is now trumped by getting screamed at by his coach. He walks slowly back to the locker room, as if he was physically wounded by Keefe yelling at him. He undresses slowly, his mind swarming with thoughts of his sloppy passes and ruined practice exercises.
When Luke finally makes his way to your room he is 20 minutes later than his usual time. You notice his unusual mood the second he walks through the door, no shy smile or cute stutter, just a blank look on his face as he sits himself down on the exam table. “Hey Luke, are you okay?” Luke sighs before saying “Yeah. My shoulder hurts.” in a very non-convincing tone. This time you sigh and set your chart down on a table as you make your way over to Luke’s side. You set your hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look at you. “Again? Luke, what’s wrong? I hate seeing you like this.”
Luke was already shook when you put your hand on his shoulder but now that you’re asking him how he feels, showing you care, Luke’s shitty mood turns into pure unfiltered joy. Luke can barely keep the smile off of his face when he explains what happened at practice. “Aw Luke I’m so sorry,” you hug him unaware of the effect you have on him , “I think I know something that’ll make you feel better.” Luke’s head was resting on your shoulder but lifts up when you pull back from the hug. He looks at you confused before asking “What would that be?”
“You, me, and a date.”
The look on Luke’s face is almost laughable, his eyes are wide, his cheeks are red, and his mouth is open. He has trouble speaking as he stutters out a ‘yes, oh god yes’ in response to your question. He jumps up from the table, a wide smile on his face, his slightly damp curls bouncing as he moves around the room. He runs out the room, heads down the hall towards the locker room before turning back around and going to your exam room. He rushes back through the door, enveloping you in a hug and pressing a kiss to your cheek shouting “You won’t regret this!” as he rushes back down the hall, shoving a poor Nico out of the way.
Nico only laughs and gestures over his shoulder, “What’s up with him?” he asks. You hum as you way Nico over to your table, “Oh nothing, we’re just going out on a date.” Nico smiles at you, noticing the way you light up at the mention of your upcoming date. “He finally asked you out, huh?” You only smile and shake your head. “I asked him.”
HI im obsessed with your writing could u do one where luke doesn't realize he's in love with you until he sees you cry over someone else
open your eyes | lh43
requests are open | navigation
a/n: i'm BACK BITCHES !!! i feel like i've been away forever but i did in fact post a fic less than a month ago
The knocking is frantic.
Not polite. Not measured. Not the kind of knock that belongs to a friend who forgot their keys or a delivery driver with the wrong address.
It’s desperate.
Luke is halfway through a mindless scroll on his phone, legs stretched across the couch, the low hum of the TV filling the apartment Jack abandoned an hour ago for dinner with teammates. He frowns at the sound, glances toward the door, waits for it to stop.
It doesn’t.
It comes again, harder. Faster.
He’s on his feet before he’s fully thinking, crossing the apartment in long strides, a thin thread of unease pulling tight in his chest.
The moment he opens the door, everything inside him shifts.
You’re standing there in heels you clearly can’t feel anymore, hair styled, makeup smudged beneath red, swollen eyes. You look like you were supposed to be somewhere warm and dimly lit and romantic. Instead, you look wrecked.
Your lip trembles.
“Luke—”
That’s all you get out before you collapse into him.
It’s instinct more than thought. His arms come up, catching you before you can fully fold in on yourself. You hit his chest with enough force to knock the air from him, fingers fisting into the fabric of his t-shirt like he’s the only solid thing in the world.
He freezes for half a second, shocked by the suddenness, by the way you’re clinging to him, by the wet heat of your tears soaking through cotton.
Then he wraps you up.
Both arms. Tight.
He kicks the door shut behind you without breaking contact, one hand sliding up the back of your head, fingers threading carefully through your hair. You’re shaking. Actually shaking.
“Hey,” he murmurs, pressing his lips softly against your crown. “Hey. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
You don’t respond. You just hold on harder.
He stands there like that for a long minute, swaying slightly without meaning to, your breathing jagged against his chest. The apartment feels smaller suddenly. Quieter.
“Come on,” he says gently. “Let’s sit down.”
He doesn’t lead you to the couch. He doesn’t know why. Maybe because the living room feels too open, too exposed. Instead, he guides you down the hallway and into his room, keeping one arm firm around your shoulders like if he lets go you might fall apart completely.
He sits on the edge of his bed and eases you down with him.
You don’t let go.
You’re still clutching him, your forehead pressed beneath his chin, breaths coming in broken little gasps.
He tips his head down slightly. “What happened?”
The question seems to unlock something.
Your hands tighten in his shirt and the words come out tangled and soaked in tears.
“He— he broke up with me.”
Luke stills.
The room feels like it tilts.
“What?”
You pull back just enough to look at him, your mascara streaked, lips trembling. “His childhood best friend. From his hometown. She texted him and— and he just—” You choke on the words. “He just left. He said he needed to see if there was something there. He said he couldn’t ignore it. He—”
You break.
The sob that leaves you is raw and wounded, like it’s coming from somewhere deep in your ribs.
“He never loved me,” you cry. “Not really. Not the way I thought. You don’t leave someone you love like that. You don’t just drop them the second someone else calls. I'm such an idiot.”
Luke’s jaw clenches.
He doesn’t even realize he’s pulling you closer until his back is pressed against the headboard and you’re half in his lap. He shifts you fully there without thinking, one arm around your waist, the other cupping the back of your head.
He rocks you.
Slow. Steady.
“That’s not true,” he whispers. “That’s not true.”
“It is.”
“It’s not.” His voice is low, firm, almost protective in a way that surprises even him. “What he did says everything about him. Not you.”
You cry into his shoulder until your words dissolve into hiccups. He keeps murmuring reassurances, little things, soft, repetitive comfort, until your breathing evens out against him.
He doesn’t realize you’ve fallen asleep until your grip loosens.
He stays there.
Holding you.
Like he’s guarding something fragile.
For a long time, Luke doesn’t move.
The apartment is quiet in that late-night way that makes everything feel suspended. The city hum is distant. The refrigerator clicks on and off somewhere down the hall. Your weight is warm and real in his lap, your cheek pressed against his chest like you’ve always belonged there.
He studies the ceiling.
He doesn’t know what to do with the anger crawling under his skin.
Not loud anger. Not the kind that shouts or breaks things. The quieter kind. The steady, simmering kind. The kind that tightens his jaw and makes his hand flex instinctively at your back.
He would never do that to you.
The thought lands heavy.
He adjusts slightly so you don’t slide, one hand moving to brush the last of the dampness from your cheek. Your lashes are clumped together. Your lipstick is smudged against his collar.
You look wrecked.
He swallows.
Very carefully, he shifts, sliding you sideways onto the mattress while keeping one arm under your shoulders so you don’t wake. He eases a pillow beneath your head. You stir faintly, frowning.
“I’m right here,” he murmurs.
You relax immediately.
He exhales slowly.
He grabs a blanket and pulls it over you, then sits beside you on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.
Morning arrives in thin stripes of light through the blinds.
You wake slowly this time.
For a few seconds you don’t remember where you are. The ceiling is wrong. The room smells faintly like detergent and Luke’s cologne and something clean.
Then it all rushes back.
Your chest tightens.
You sit up too quickly and the blanket slips down your shoulders.
Luke’s still there.
He’s leaned back against the headboard now, arms folded loosely across his chest, clearly having not slept much. He looks over when you move.
“Morning,” he says quietly.
Your voice is hoarse. “Did I—”
“You cried yourself out,” he says gently. “It's okay.”
You press your palms into your eyes. “God. I can’t believe I just showed up like that.”
He studies you for a long second.
“I’m glad you did.”
You look at him.
There’s no teasing in his tone. No casualness.
Just sincerity.
Your throat tightens again, but this time it’s different. Softer.
“I feel… stupid,” you admit. “Like I should’ve seen it coming.”
Luke leans forward, forearms on his thighs.
“You’re not stupid for trusting someone,” he says. “You’re not stupid for loving someone. That’s not how that works.”
You laugh weakly. “It kind of feels like it.”
“Yeah. That’s because you’re hurt.”
You shake your head. “Fuck him. I don’t even care.”
He lifts an eyebrow.
You glare at him.
He doesn’t budge.
“You showed up at my door at midnight in heels,” he says calmly. “You care.”
Silence stretches.
Then you sigh. “Fine. I care. I care that he picked someone else. I care that I wasn’t enough.”
Luke’s expression changes at that.
Sharp. Immediate.
“You're more than enough.”
“He didn’t think so.”
“He doesn’t get to define that.”
You look away, jaw tight.
He stands, walks to his dresser, and pulls out a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants.
“Here,” he says, holding them out. “Shower’s down the hall. I’ll make coffee.”
You hesitate. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to.”
His tone makes it final.
When you walk into the kitchen twenty minutes later, hair damp, face bare, wrapped in clothes that hang slightly too big on you, Jack nearly chokes on his toast.
“What the hell happened?”
You glance at Luke.
He gives you a small nod. Your call.
So you tell Jack.
Not the sobbing version.
The steadier one.
The part where your ex said he “needed to explore something.” The part where he claimed he’d always wondered about her. The part where he said you’d understand.
Jack’s face moves from confusion to outrage in under thirty seconds.
“You’re kidding.”
You shake your head.
“He left you for a text?”
“It wasn’t just a text,” you say hollowly. “It was history.”
Jack scoffs. “History’s not what makes a relationship last.”
You snort before you can stop yourself.
He points at you triumphantly. “See? Must be true if you're laughing.”
Luke sets a mug down in front of you. His fingers brush yours for half a second longer than necessary.
Jack leans back against the counter. “We should egg his house.”
“Jack,” Luke warns.
“I’m serious.”
“You’re insane.”
“You can stay here,” Jack says abruptly, looking at you again. “Like actually. As long as you need.”
You shake your head immediately. “No. I can’t impose like that.”
“You’re not imposing,” Luke says, firmer this time. “You’re family.”
The word lands heavier than he expects.
Your eyes flick to his.
Something shifts.
You look down quickly. “I’ll be fine. I just needed… last night.”
Luke doesn’t argue.
But the idea of you being alone in your apartment sits wrong in his chest.
And that night, you stay anyway.
The thriller movie plays, but none of you are really watching it. The lights are low. The three of you share a blanket. Your feet are tucked under Luke’s thigh without either of you commenting on it.
When Luke gets up to use the bathroom, Jack pauses the movie immediately.
You glance at him. “What?”
Jack hesitates.
Then exhales.
“Okay. So. I don’t tell a lot of people this.”
Your expression softens instantly.
He tells you about his last breakup. About the plans he had. About thinking he’d already met the person he was going to build a life with. About how blindsided he felt.
You listen quietly.
“I felt stupid,” he admits. “Like I’d built this whole future in my head and she’d been halfway out the door.”
Your eyes fill again.
“I did that,” you whisper. “I built it. I saw it so clearly. The house. The stupid backyard. The kids. I knew what the kitchen would look like.”
Jack pulls you into his side.
“And I knew it wasn’t perfect,” you continue, voice breaking. “There were things that annoyed me. Things I ignored. But I just— I wanted it to be him anyway. I wanted to choose him and have him choose me back. Even if it wasn’t fairytale perfect.”
In the hallway, Luke stops walking.
He hears every word.
Something deep inside him cracks open.
Because the life you’re describing—
He can see it.
That night, his dreams are vivid.
Sunlight through kitchen windows.
You laughing.
Bare feet on hardwood.
Your voice calling his name like it’s always belonged there.
Luke wakes up abruptly, heart racing.
He sits up, staring at his ceiling, breathing hard.
“Shit,” he mutters.
Jack sees his face in the hallway an hour later.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Luke runs both hands through his hair. “I had a dream about her.”
Jack groans. “Don’t.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Luke says quickly. “It wasn’t— it was normal. Like… domestic. I was making coffee. She was talking about paint colors.”
Jack stares at him.
Luke’s voice lowers. “It felt real.”
Silence stretches.
“Dude,” Jack says carefully, “she just got her heart ripped out.”
“I know.”
“She needs her best friend.”
“I know.”
“Not some guy projecting a fantasy because she cried in his arms.”
Luke bristles. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it?”
Luke doesn’t have a good answer.
“I don’t know,” he admits quietly.
Jack watches him for another second.
“Just don’t screw this up.”
Luke nods.
But something inside him has already shifted.
The egging is Jack’s fault.
Fully.
It starts harmlessly enough.
You’re all sprawled across the living room floor, empty takeout containers pushed to the side, a half-finished bottle of wine between you. The TV is playing something none of you are actually watching. The air feels lighter than it has in weeks—like something inside you has finally unclenched.
Jack is the one who brings him up.
“Okay,” he says suddenly, pointing at you like he’s presenting evidence in court. “Can we talk about the fact that his hairline was retreating at, like, a concerning pace?”
You blink at him.
Luke snorts before he can stop himself.
You try to hold it together. “That is so mean.”
“It’s not mean if it’s accurate,” Jack insists. “I noticed it the first time I met him. I was like, ‘This guy does not have long-term structural integrity.’”
Luke leans back on his hands. “Structural integrity.”
“I’m serious,” Jack continues. “And it got worse every time I saw him I swear.”
You press your hand over your mouth, laughing harder than you have in days. “Oh my god.”
“The shoes were bad too,” Luke adds casually, as if he’s been waiting for his turn.
You turn to him, eyes bright.
“The square-toed loafers,” he says flatly.
“Yes,” Jack nods in agreement. “Those were criminal.”
“I think they were European,” you defend weakly.
“They were tragic,” Luke counters.
Jack sits up straighter. “And the way he said ‘expresso.’”
You fall back against the couch, laughing so hard your stomach hurts. It’s loud and unrestrained and reckless in a way that feels almost rebellious.
Jack watches you for a second.
Then something shifts in his expression.
He stands abruptly.
You squint up at him. “Where are you going?”
“Stay here,” he says ominously.
Luke narrows his eyes. “Jack.”
Jack disappears into the kitchen.
There’s the unmistakable sound of the refrigerator opening.
Then the cabinet above the stove.
Luke sits up straighter.
Jack returns carrying a carton of eggs in one hand and a multipack of toilet paper in the other.
He sets them down on the coffee table like a magician revealing a trick.
“I wasn't joking the first time I brought it up. We ride at dawn,” he says solemnly.
Luke’s eyes go wide. “Absolutely not.”
You stare at the eggs.
Then at Jack.
Then at Luke.
There’s a beat.
A slow, dangerous smile spreads across your face.
“We’re gonna need more eggs.”
Luke groans, dragging a hand down his face.
But he’s smiling.
You're in the car ten minutes later.
It feels absurd. It feels juvenile. It feels like something you would’ve done at seventeen, not now. But your pulse is pounding in your ears and there’s something electric in your chest, like you’re taking back something that was stolen from you.
Luke drives while Jack gives directions from the backseat.
“You sure about this?” Luke mutters as he turns onto your ex’s street.
“No,” you and Jack say at the same time.
You park half a block away.
The house looks the same. Quiet. Suburban. Unbothered.
Your stomach flips.
Jack cracks the carton open. “Operation Hairline.”
“Shut up,” you whisper, already laughing.
Luke hands you two eggs. “Quick in, quick out.”
You creep up the driveway like criminals who absolutely would not survive actual crime.
Jack throws the first egg.
It splatters against the garage with a wet, satisfying crack.
You gasp.
“Oh my god,” you whisper-yell.
Luke throws one next.
It explodes against the front door.
You don’t even hesitate after that.
You hurl yours at the window.
It bursts in a dripping, yellow mess.
Jack whoops.
“Quiet!” Luke hisses.
Jack starts unraveling toilet paper with dramatic flair, tossing it into the nearest tree. It catches on the branches like white streamers.
You grab a roll and fling it upward, watching it unspool midair.
“This is so unhinged,” you breathe.
“I’ve waited my whole life for this,” Jack says reverently.
A porch light flicks on two houses down.
“GO,” Luke snaps.
You all bolt.
Actual sprinting.
Jack drops the remaining eggs as he runs.
You’re laughing so hard you can’t breathe as you pile back into the car.
Luke slams it into drive.
“Seatbelts!” he shouts.
Jack is still cackling in the backseat. “Did you see the door?! Direct hit!”
Your heart is racing so fast it feels like it might burst.
As Luke turns the corner, you glance back.
The house is shrinking behind you.
On the drive home, Luke rolls the windows down.
Music blares, too loud, off-key singing filling the car.
Jack is half-hanging out the back window, yelling something incoherent.
You’re laughing, hair whipping across your face.
At a red light, Luke glances over at you.
You’re flushed from running, eyes bright, grin wide.
Alive.
Not broken.
Alive.
Something in his chest tightens painfully.
Without thinking, he slides his hand across the console.
Your fingers lace with his immediately.
No hesitation.
You squeeze once.
He looks back at the road quickly.
Shit.
Weeks later, things feel steadier.
You’re over at their place again, takeout containers spread across the coffee table. The TV is playing some ridiculous reality show you’re half-mocking. Jack is arguing about strategy like it’s a playoff game.
You’re sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning back against the couch where Luke sits behind you. His knee presses lightly into your shoulder blade.
It’s comfortable.
Easy.
Your phone is face-up on the table.
It lights up.
All three of you see the name at the same time.
Silence drops like a weight.
Your stomach sinks.
Jack’s mouth goes flat.
Luke goes very, very still.
The phone keeps ringing.
No one moves.
The sound feels louder than it should.
You stare at it.
Luke stares at it.
Jack glances between you.
“Don’t,” Luke murmurs quietly.
The ringing stops.
The silence after is worse.
Two full minutes pass.
Then the notification appears: voicemail.
Jack lunges first.
“We have to.”
Luke’s jaw tightens. “We could just block and delete. We don’t have to listen to whatever that loser has to say.”
“We do,” Jack insists. “We need to know what angle he’s taking.”
You swallow.
Your hands feel cold.
They both look at you.
Your voice is steady, even if your heart isn’t.
“Play it.”
Jack hits speaker.
There’s a long pause.
Then your ex’s voice fills the room.
It sounds smaller than you remember.
“Hey. I—I don’t even know if you’re going to listen to this.”
He exhales shakily.
“I’ve been thinking a lot. And I know I messed up. I know I don’t deserve to even ask this. But I need you to hear me out.”
Luke’s hands curl into fists on the couch behind you.
“I made a mistake,” your ex continues. “I thought I needed to chase something unresolved. Something from my past. And I picked a whim over the sure thing I had with you.”
Jack grimaces.
Luke’s jaw ticks.
“You were it for me,” the voicemail says. “You were the future. The house. The life. I panicked. And I blew it up.”
Your chest tightens.
“I know I hurt you. I know I don’t deserve another chance. But I’ll do anything. Coffee. A walk. Just let me apologize in person. I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t sleep.”
His voice cracks.
“I love you. I was stupid. Please. I love you.”
When he starts sobbing in to the mic, Jack reaches forward and stops the playback screen.
“Well,” he mutters. “That’s enough of that.”
Luke feels sick.
Sure thing.
He looks at you.
Your face is unreadable.
You stand slowly.
“Let’s eat,” you say quietly.
Like nothing just shifted the ground beneath you.
Dinner is painfully normal.
Too normal.
Jack overcompensates with jokes.
You laugh at the right moments.
Luke barely tastes anything.
That night, after Jack disappears down the hallway, he pauses beside Luke.
A look.
Don’t screw this up.
Luke nods once.
He offers for you to stay.
You hesitate only a second before agreeing.
In his room, the lights are low.
You sit on the edge of the bed.
He stands in front of you.
“How are you feeling?” he asks gently.
Your eyes gloss over immediately.
“I don’t know,” you whisper. “Can we just… not?”
He nods.
“Yeah. Of course.”
He doesn’t sleep.
The next morning, the kitchen smells like coffee.
Jack is leaning against the counter when Luke walks in.
Luke looks pale.
Jack frowns. “You look like you saw a ghost.”
Luke drags a hand through his hair.
“I’m going to throw up.”
“Why.”
Luke exhales sharply, pacing once before stopping.
“I’m in love with her.”
The words hang there.
Jack straightens slowly. “You cannot be serious.”
“I am,” Luke says, voice hollow. “I don’t know when it happened. I don’t know how. But listening to that voicemail? The thought of her even considering going back to him—” He swallows hard. “It makes me feel like I’m suffocating.”
Jack studies him carefully.
“This is the worst possible timing dude.”
“I know that,” Luke snaps. Then softer: “I know that.”
Jack rubs a hand over his jaw.
“If you tell her, you risk losing her.”
“I know.”
“But. If you don’t, you risk watching her choose him.”
Luke presses his palms into his eyes.
“What do I do?”
Jack is quiet for a long moment.
“If what you feel is real… you don’t use it to sway her. You don’t guilt her. But you tell her. Because she deserves the full picture before she makes a choice.”
Luke nods faintly.
Terrified.
Because loving you suddenly feels like the most dangerous thing he’s ever done.
Later, it’s peacefully quiet. Not the strained quiet from earlier. Not the heavy, suffocating silence after the voicemail. This one is softer. Thinner.
Jack left an hour ago, something about needing air, or giving you both space, though he didn’t say it outright. The apartment feels different without him. Less buffered. Less distracted.
The TV hums low in the background, some late-night rerun neither of you are actually watching. The lights are dim, just the lamp in the corner casting a warm glow across the living room.
You’re curled into the corner of the couch, knees tucked to your chest, one of Luke’s hoodies wrapped around you again. Your hair is loose, falling messily over your shoulders. There’s a glass of water on the coffee table you haven’t touched.
Luke sits beside you, not too close, not too far. Close enough that your knee brushes his thigh every so often when you shift.
He hasn’t said much since dinner.
He’s waiting.
For you.
You stare at the TV like it might hand you an answer.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” you whisper finally.
Your voice is small. Honest.
Luke doesn’t respond right away. He doesn’t interrupt the space. He knows you’re not done.
You swallow.
“What he did was shitty,” you continue, eyes still on the flickering screen. “I know that. I know I deserve better. I know everyone keeps saying that.”
You let out a shaky breath.
“But what if that was it for me?”
The words land heavier than you mean them to.
Luke’s chest tightens.
You laugh softly, but it’s fragile. “What if that was my big love? And I messed it up. Or he messed it up. Or we both did. What if I don’t get another chance at something like that?”
Your fingers twist in the sleeve of the hoodie.
“What if I don’t get something close to that ever again?”
There’s a tremor in your voice now.
You turn your head slightly toward him, not fully meeting his eyes.
“You think that’s pathetic, don’t you?”
He’s looking at you now.
Fully.
And there’s nothing mocking or judgmental in his expression. Just something aching.
“It’s not pathetic,” he says softly.
You finally look at him.
His jaw is tight, like he’s holding something back.
“It’s not pathetic to want love,” he continues. “It’s not pathetic to be scared you won’t find it again.”
He swallows.
“But I promise you,” he says, voice lowering, “there’s someone out there who will love you better than that.”
Your breathing falters slightly.
He doesn’t look away now.
“Someone who won’t leave,” he says. “Someone who won’t treat you like an option. Someone who won’t panic the second something shiny from their past shows up.”
His hand flexes against his thigh.
“Your epic love isn’t choosing someone else,” he says, more firmly now. “He’s not walking away. He’s not making you question your worth. He’s sitting somewhere, probably terrified he won’t measure up, just waiting for you to close this chapter so he can step in.”
Your chest rises and falls more quickly.
“So he can give you everything you deserve,” Luke continues, voice beginning to waver despite himself. “So you can look back on this and realize it wasn’t the love of your life. It was just the one that taught you what you won’t settle for.”
His throat tightens.
“So you can finally see that there’s something bigger and better out there for you. If you just—”
His voice catches.
He exhales sharply, like he’s lost control of something.
“If you just open your eyes.”
Silence falls between you.
Thick.
You stare at him now.
Really stare.
“Luke?” you say quietly.
He looks away.
That’s what gives him away.
You reach out slowly, your fingers gentle as they touch his jaw, turning his face back toward you.
He resists for half a second.
Then lets you.
His eyes are glassy.
Red at the edges.
Your breath leaves you in a soft, stunned exhale.
“You didn’t tell me,” you whisper.
His lips press together.
“I didn’t know,” he says, voice barely steady. “I didn’t know until I saw you crying over him and something in me just—” He breaks off, shaking his head. “I realized I would never do that to you. Not ever.”
Tears spill down his cheeks now, unchecked.
“I would choose you,” he says hoarsely. “Every time. Without hesitation. If I’m in it, I’m in it. There’s no second option. There’s no ‘what if someone else texts me.’ There’s just you.”
Your heart is pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it.
“You deserve someone who doesn’t even consider walking away,” he continues. “Someone who looks at you and thinks, ‘That’s it. That’s my person.’”
His voice cracks on the last word.
Your eyes burn.
“You think that’s you?” you ask softly.
He doesn’t hesitate.
“Yes.”
The certainty in it steals your breath.
You move before you fully think about it.
You slide across the couch and into his lap like you did that first night, knees on either side of his hips, hands bracing on his shoulders.
He inhales sharply but doesn’t pull back.
Your arms wrap around his neck.
You press your mouth close to his ear, your voice low and trembling.
“Prove it.”
He stills.
“What?” he breathes.
You pull back just enough to look at him.
“Prove to me you’re my bigger, better love.”
His face shifts.
Not into hunger or triumph.
Into something steady.
Certain.
His arms come around you slowly, deliberately, hands settling at your back like he’s memorizing the shape of you there.
He pulls you in, chest to chest.
He buries his face in your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs into you. “Not when it’s hard. Not when it’s messy. Not when you’re scared. I’m not leaving.”
Your fingers curl into his shirt.
“You don’t have to decide anything tonight,” he continues softly. “But if you choose me, I’m choosing you back.”
what i think your Instagram feed would look like over the summer if you were dating luke hughes !
Offseason Diaries masterlist
a/n: i don't fuck with the Hughes brothers like that, so I made them actually likeable in this!! also i kinda just use them as faceclaims LOL, if you no longer like the Hughes brothers & don't want to consume content surrounding them, don't!
yourusername: posted 8 hours ago
♫: You're Still The One - Shania Twain
yourusername: Luke just refuses to take a cute picture
liked by lukehughes_, yourbestfriend, _quinnhughes, trevorzegras, jesperbratt, nicohischier and 123,628 others
COMMENTS...
lukehughes_: Delete this 🔥🔥
yourusername: 🔥🔥 no 🔥🔥
colecaufield: What is he looking at 😭
yourusername: He's just full of hate
jackhughes: This is performative 🙌
yourusername: shut up chud
mackcelebrini: You're so cool!! Luke is there too.
liked by yourusername
fan7382: Wow this ruined my day 😍
fan5477: screaming & creaming this summer ✌️
VIEW 8,749 OTHER COMMENTS
yourusername: posted 3 hours ago
♫: Cinema - Harry Styles
yourusername: Baby the only thing I see when I look behind me is 50 pounds of ASS
liked by lukehughes_, jackhughes, tatemcrae, mackcelebrini and 119,927 others
COMMENTS...
lukehughes_: BEND OVA👅
yourusername: what dat mean
yourbestfriend: hi I'm wet
yourusername: PROOF??? DM ME??? PIC???
trevorzegras: 🎠
yourusername: What could this possibly mean
_quinnhughes: 🔥👌
fan626: her ass is NOT reading 😭😭✌️🤔🤔
VIEW 7,892 OTHER COMMENTS
yourusername: posted 19 hours ago
♫: Summer Nights - John Travolta, Olivia Newton-John
yourusername: maine root soda will singlehandedly get me through this summer
liked by lukehughes_, jackhughes, _quinnhughes, colecaufield and 122,739 others
COMMENTS...
lukehughes_: Oh god please don't make me watch Grease again
yourusername: Grease 2 it is 😈
trevorzegras: Maine Root blueberry soda >
yourusername: real it makes me bust a nut lowk
tatemcrae: 🤍
yourusername: 👩❤️💋👩
quinnhughes_: The water is very blue
yourusername: good observation numb nuts
fan25940: lobster rolls & root beer all summer
VIEW 8,920 OTHER COMMENTS
yourusername: posted 5 hours ago
♫: Super Trouper - ABBA
yourusername: Lobsert🤔
liked by lukehughes_, yourbestfriend, trevorzegras, nicohischier and 128,739 others
COMMENTS...
lukehughes_: I love you
yourusername: ew normal luke comment the economy is crashing
A kind of long (my bad 😭) summer request for Healthcare!Reader where she's hanging out with all the usual suspects in the Michigan lake house and she's baking cookies for all the boys but they're too impatient so they tell Luke to be all cutesy with her to distract her so they can steal some cookies without her noticing so Luke starts giving her cute kisses and telling her how much he loves her and how cute she is and stuff like that (not that that's new lol) while Jack and Trevor try to sneak into the kitchen and at first she responds to Luke's cuteness but she already knows what they're doing so while she's clinging onto Luke without even looking she calls them out for their plan and they all freeze bc they didnt think she'd figure it out
Anon, please never apologize for long requests, I love them it makes it easier to write what you want! Write me a goddamn book if you want! Never apologise. All the Lukey requests I have are elite and I will be hearing nothing less. There's like 6 tiktok trends in there and I AM SO EXCITED about it~ but ofc clingy Luke and grossed out Jack wins over every time. 🤣🤣 Enjoy!!!!
Word Count: 1833
Warnings: Use of (Y/N), AFAB! Reader, SICKENINGLY sweet fluff no angst in sight
Summary: Jack and Trevor recruit Luke to distract Y/N so they can steal cookies. It doesn't exactly work the way they want.
----
The Michigan lake house was loud.
It was always loud.
Music drifted from somebody's speaker out on the deck. Quinn and Nico were arguing over whose turn it was to grill later. Trevor was trying to convince Jack that he could absolutely beat him at cornhole left-handed. Arseny was laughing so hard at something Dillon had said that he nearly fell out of his chair.
You were in the kitchen making cookies. "You know," you called over your shoulder, sliding another tray into the oven, "normal people wait until the cookies are baked before asking for cookies."
"We're hockey players," Trevor answered.
"Different species," Jack agreed.
Luke wandered into the kitchen with a glass of water, watching you mix another batch of dough. He leaned against the island with that soft smile he always wore whenever he looked at you.
"You've already made two dozen."
"I know."
"So..."
"So you can wait."
Collective groans echoed through the room.
"You are literally the meanest person I've ever met," Jack sighed dramatically.
"You'll survive."
The boys gathered in the living room like they were planning a military operation.
Trevor lowered his voice. "She's not leaving that kitchen."
Jack nodded. "We need a distraction."
Nico looked between everyone. "...Why are you all looking at Luke?"
Because everyone already knew Luke could distract you from just about anything.
Jack leaned toward his younger brother. "Go be disgustingly in love for five minutes."
Trevor nodded seriously. "Maximum boyfriend."
Quinn snorted. "Weaponized affection? Really?
Luke blinked. "...You guys want me to flirt with my girlfriend so you can steal cookies?"
"Exactly."
Luke shrugged. "I was gonna do that anyway."
"You have our blessing."
Luke wandered back into the kitchen like nothing was out of the ordinary.
You were rolling another tray of cookie dough when his arms slipped around your waist from behind, pulling you flush against his chest.
"Hi, pretty girl."
You smiled without missing a beat. "Hi."
Instead of letting go after a second like he normally would, he stayed exactly where he was.
His chin settled on your shoulder while one hand lazily rubbed circles over your stomach beneath the oversized T-shirt you'd stolen from him. "You smell like vanilla."
"I smell like butter."
"And vanilla." He kissed your cheek. Then another. Then one just below your jaw.
You laughed, tilting your head enough to give him better access. "Someone's feeling extra cuddly today."
"Mhm." His fingers intertwined with yours where they rested on the counter, gently tugging your hand away from the bowl. "You've been baking for like an hour."
"I have hungry hockey players to feed."
"I think you've been ignoring your boyfriend."
You turned in his arms with a grin. "Oh, have I?"
"A little." He pouted dramatically. "I've barely gotten any attention."
You laughed. "You've been playing cornhole with Jack for the last forty-five minutes."
"I know."
"So how exactly have I been ignoring you?"
"I don't know." He shrugged. "I just wanted an excuse to hug you." Before you could answer, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering against your cheek. "You know you're cute?"
"You tell me every day."
"I should probably tell you more." He leaned down for another kiss, slow and sweet, smiling against your lips when you smiled first.
When he pulled back, he didn't go far.
His forehead rested against yours while one arm stayed firmly around your waist, the other hand absentmindedly tracing little circles along your back. "I love you."
"I love you too."
"So much."
"I know."
"I don't think you do."
"Oh?”
"I think you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."
"You need your eyes checked."
"I think they're working perfectly." He stole another quick kiss before nuzzling his nose against yours.
Across the room, Jack slowly crept toward the cooling rack. Trevor followed behind him with both hands already reaching for the cookies.
Luke's hands drifted from your waist to your hips as he gently swayed the two of you from side to side. "You've got flour on your nose."
"So wipe it off."
"Gladly." He brushed it away with his thumb before kissing the tip of your nose.
You giggled, wrapping both arms around his neck. "You are being suspiciously adorable."
"I'm always adorable."
"True."
"But today it's... extra."
"I just really like my girlfriend."
"Mhm."
"And she's making cookies."
"For you?"
"For me."
"And...?"
"And unfortunately everyone else."
You laughed, resting your head against his shoulder. He hugged you tighter, rocking you gently while pressing another kiss into your hair.
Behind him, Jack's fingertips were inches from a cookie. Trevor had already grabbed the spatula.
Without lifting your head from Luke's shoulder and opening your eyes. You said calmly, "Jack, if you touch that cookie, you're baking the next batch."
Both boys froze. Trevor's hand hovered over the cooling rack. Jack looked like he'd been caught by a security camera.
You continued, still comfortably tucked against Luke, "And Trevor... the spatula isn't exactly subtle."
Silence.
Luke slowly turned his head toward the living room, trying, and failing, not to laugh. "...Guys?"
Jack pointed at him. "You suck at distractions"
Luke blinked. "I thought I was doing a great job."
"You were," you said with a smile, giving his hoodie strings a playful tug. "I just also know all of you way too well."
Quinn burst out laughing from the couch. "I told you this wasn't gonna work."
Nico shook his head. "You held a strategy meeting fifteen feet from the kitchen."
Arseny was already doubled over laughing.
Trevor sighed dramatically. "So... all the cuddling wasn't fake?"
Luke looked genuinely offended. "I cuddle her like this every day."
You smiled up at him. "He really does."
"For the record," Luke added, tightening his arms around you one more time, "I would've been attached to her whether you idiots wanted cookies or not."
"And that's exactly why we picked you," Jack groaned. “I'd argue you suck at distractions," Jack said, pointing at Luke like he'd personally betrayed the team.
Luke looked offended. "I absolutely do not."
"You were supposed to keep her from noticing us."
"I did keep her from noticing you."
You snorted into Luke's shoulder. "No, he didn't."
Luke looked down at you. "...I didn't?"
You smiled innocently. "I noticed the second you walked in."
His eyebrows shot up. "What?"
You reached up and poked his chest. "You've been attached to me all day."
"I have not."
"You've hugged me at breakfast, on the dock, while I was making coffee, while I was looking for my flip-flops, and then again because you said I 'looked huggable.'"
"I stand by that."
"I know you do."
"So how'd you know something was up?"
"Because," you laughed, "you came over here and didn't ask for a bite of cookie dough."
Luke blinked. "...I forgot."
"Exactly."
The room erupted.
Trevor doubled over. "He forgot the cookie dough!"
Jack threw both hands in the air. "The man was so committed to the mission he skipped his favorite part!"
Luke gasped. "I was focused!"
"You were staring at your girlfriend," Quinn corrected.
"I was multitasking."
"No," Nico said with a grin, "you were gazing."
"I was not gazing."
Arseny nodded emphatically. "You were gazing."
"Dillon?"
Dillon didn't even hesitate. "You were definitely gazing."
Luke sighed dramatically. "I can't believe none of you have my back."
"We do," Jack said. "We're just also honest."
You laughed as Luke rested his forehead against yours.
"So..." he murmured.
"So?"
"...Can I at least have a cookie?"
"You've been buttering me up this whole time."
"I butter you up every day."
"Fair point." You reached behind you without looking, grabbed one of the warm cookies from the cooling rack, and held it up.
Luke smiled victoriously. "I knew loving you would pay off."
Before he could take a bite, you snapped the cookie cleanly in half.
Half went to Luke. The other half you popped into your own mouth.
Luke stared at you in mock betrayal. "...Really?"
"You said you wanted a cookie."
"I wanted the whole cookie."
"You should've specified."
Behind you, Jack groaned loud enough for the neighbors to hear. "This is torture."
Trevor nodded solemnly. "They're flirting with baked goods now."
"I can't live like this."
Luke chuckled, draping himself over your back again while he happily ate his half anyway.
"You know," he said between bites, "I still think my distraction worked."
You leaned back against him. "Oh?"
"Mhm."
"How?"
"You haven't moved from this spot in like ten minutes."
"Because you're holding me hostage."
"I'm hugging you."
"Hostage."
"Affectionately."
You rolled your eyes, though the smile tugging at your lips gave you away.
Jack noticed. "There!" he exclaimed. "See? She's distracted right now!"
Trevor's eyes widened. "Round two!"
The two of them lunged toward the cooling rack.
Without turning around, you pointed behind you. "Don't."
Both of them froze mid-step.
Luke laughed so hard he had to bury his face against your shoulder. "I don't know why you guys keep trying," he said through his laughter.
Jack sighed dramatically. "Because one day..."
Trevor finished for him. "...one day she'll actually be distracted."
You reached behind you blindly, grabbed the wooden spoon off the counter, and held it up over your shoulder. "You wanna test that theory?"
Jack and Trevor took three synchronized steps backward.
"No, ma'am."
"Smart choice," Quinn said, grinning as he reached over and stole a cookie while everyone was watching the argument instead.
Nico spotted him first. "...Quinn."
Quinn was already halfway through his first bite. "What?"
"You stole one."
"I did."
"She didn't yell at you."
Quinn shrugged. "I waited."
You looked over at him and smiled. "Exactly."
Jack looked utterly defeated. "So patience actually works?"
"It usually does."
Trevor sighed. "I hate life."
Luke pressed one last kiss to your temple before stealing another tiny piece of his cookie and smiling to himself. "Worth the failed mission."
You looked up at him. "Because you got a cookie?"
He smiled softly and shook his head. "No." His arm tightened around your waist. "Because I got to hug my favorite person for ten uninterrupted minutes."
Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can't believe this is my life."
"I can," Trevor said. "He's hopeless."
Luke didn't even bother denying it. "No arguments here." He looked down at you with an easy smile. "I like my girl."
"I noticed."
"And I'd choose hugging you over cookies every time."
A beat of silence.
Trevor looked at Jack. "...He's lying."
Luke answered without looking away from you. "I'd choose hugging her… Then I'd ask if she'd share the cookies."
You laughed so hard you nearly dropped the next tray, and Luke was already reaching over your shoulder to steady it, his free arm never leaving your waist.
