Jul 4
Been ignoring Luke!
seen from United States
seen from Indonesia
seen from China
seen from China
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Indonesia
seen from Israel
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Japan
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Jordan
seen from Nigeria
seen from Russia
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
Been ignoring Luke!
how good does Luke look tho 😍😍
Luke sighting hit good 😭
Love that they seem to be having fun together this summer 🥰
NY hat will forever live on his head.
make it to the morning - lh43 x f!reader
★ A/N - i have not a lot to say ab this... anon 🐛 wanted lake house luke smut, so i ran with it❤️. i'm very grateful for all you divas who have been supporting me and read my stuff. i'll kiss each one of y'all if you'd let me.
☾ warnings - dryhumping (YALL DONT GET THE HYPE OF TS, HOP ON BOARD), dirty talk????????, sleepy smut, established relationship, unrealistic luke waking up... ik that guy would most definitely sleep through a tornado, not proofread properly (i am so tired and gave up)
APPARENTLY I DONT KNOW HOW TO LABEL THINGS AGAIN
✽ word count - 1786 words
The first time you wake up, it’s because of thunder.
Low and distant over the lake, vibrating softly through the walls of the lake house while the fan hums somewhere in the corner. The room is dark except for silver moonlight spilling through the curtains, enough to make out the shape of Luke beside you.
Bare chest. Curls sticking up all over the place. One arm heavy around your waist, even asleep, keeping you tucked close against him.
And god, that’s the problem.
Because you’ve been trying to behave all week.
Trying not to think about the way his swim trunks hang low on his hips when he’s carrying coolers down to the dock. About the lazy touches he gives you in passing, completely unaware of what they do to you. His hand settling on your thigh during movie nights. His mouth brushing your temple when everyone’s around. The teasing little “you okay, baby?” when he catches you staring too long.
You’ve been trying.
But now it’s the middle of the night, warm rain tapping softly outside, and you wake up aching.
Actually physically aching.
Your thighs press together instinctively beneath the blankets, and you let out the smallest frustrated breath into the dark.
Beside you, Luke shifts.
“Baby?” His voice is rough with sleep.
You close your eyes for a second. Of course he decided now would be the perfect time to be a light sleeper. “Go back to sleep.”
Immediately, he’s more awake, one hand sliding slowly over the surface of your waist. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Mm.” He pulls himself up onto one elbow, peering down at you with sleepy suspicion. “You’re squirming around.”
Heat floods your face.
“Lu,” you whisper miserably.
That alone tells him everything.
He softly exhales through his nose, his hand squeezing your hip gently, the mattress shifting when he tries not to laugh too hard.
“My poor girl,” he murmurs.
You groan quietly and bury your face in his chest. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not.” His lips brush your hair. “C’mere.”
He shifts onto his back and pulls you over him until you’re half sprawled across his chest, one of his hands smoothing slowly down your spine beneath your oversized sleep shirt that you had stolen from his closet earlier.
“You need me that bad?”
Your silence answers his question.
Luke lets out the quietest laugh, warm and sleepy and unfairly sweet. “Baby…”
“It’s your fault,” you mutter against his skin. “Walking around looking like that all day.”
“Looking like what?”
You lift your head just enough to glare at him.
His grin appears faintly in the dark.
“There she is.”
You try to hide your face again, but he catches your chin gently between his fingers before you can.
Moonlight catches the softness in his expression when he looks at you.
No longer teasing, just completely gone for you.
“My love,” he says quietly, thumb brushing your bottom lip, “you could’ve woken me up.”
“I just did.”
“Mm. True.”
His mouth finds yours slowly, lazily at first.
Sleepy kisses that melt deeper after only a few seconds because you can’t help it—you kiss him like you’ve been starving all week. Your fingers slide into his hair immediately, tugging softly, and Luke exhales against your mouth, chest rising sharply beneath yours.
“Easy,” he murmurs, though his hands tighten on your waist. “You’re basically shaking.”
“I know.”
“You wanna tell me what you need?”
Another whine leaves your throat before you can stop it, and Luke actually groans this time, forehead dropping briefly against yours.
“Jesus christ.”
Your hips shift instinctively against him, feeling out how hard he already is beneath his boxers, the sensation makes your head spin.
“Baby,” he breathes warningly, but he doesn’t stop you.
One large hand settles firmly on your hip while you move against him again, slow and desperate through the thin fabric between you both. The friction pulls a quiet gasp from your mouth, and Luke’s eyes close for a second, his jaw tightening while he fights for control.
“There you go,” he whispers. “That feel good?”
You nod quickly.
“So needy tonight.”
You kiss him again before he can tease you more, and he lets you climb further over him, lets your thighs spread around his hips while his hands drag slowly up and down your sides.
The rain outside gets heavier, but inside, everything feels warm and hazy and messy.
Luke’s mouth leaves yours only long enough to kiss along your jaw, your throat, lingering beneath your ear when you grind down harder against him.
“Fuck,” he mutters softly.
Your hands clutch at his shoulders.
“Lu, please—”
“I know, sweet girl. I know.”
His voice drops lower, soothing enough to make your stomach tighten.
One hand slides into your hair, tilting your head back gently so he can look at you.
“You’re so pretty when you need me.”
The praise goes straight through you.
Your movements get sloppier after that, desperate little drags of your hips making the bed creak softly beneath you both. Luke watches the whole thing with heavy eyes and parted lips, caught somewhere between calming you down and making it worse. He kisses you again, deep enough to steal the air from your lungs. When you whimper into his mouth, pulling back slightly to brush his thumb along your lower lip.
“So sensitive,” he whispers. “Look at you.”
Your thighs squeeze around him hard enough to make him groan.
“Baby,” he says against your mouth, voice strained now, "you keep moving like that and I’m not gonna last long.”
But his hands are still guiding your hips, still helping you grind against him slow and deep until your breathing turns shaky and uneven.
Every soft sound you make seems to hit him right in the chest.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Use me.”
Your forehead drops against his shoulder as you move faster without meaning to, chasing the pressure desperately while Luke holds you steady beneath him.
“There you go, my love,” he says softly, kissing the side of your head.
A shaky sound leaves your throat when he rolls his hips up into yours once, slow enough to make your stomach tighten painfully.
“Oh my God.”
Luke huffs out a laugh at that, though it sounds strained now.
“Yeah?” His hands spread wider over your hips, fingers digging in just enough to keep you moving against him. “Feel good?”
You nod helplessly against him.
The chain around his neck catches against the collar of your shirt every time your bodies shift together, riding higher on your thighs while his hands keep roaming over your waist and hips. Everything feels too warm, too tight, too sensitive.
Especially when Luke starts whispering to you.
“That’s my girl.”
“Pretty thing.”
“So desperate for me.”
Each one goes straight through you.
Your breathing breaks apart completely when he kisses under your jaw again, open-mouthed and lingering this time. He’s still half sleepy and still soft around the edges from being dragged out of bed, but there’s something wrecked in the way he touches you now.
He likes this far too much.
Your hips stutter when the friction finally starts building properly, enough to make your eyes squeeze shut. Luke notices immediately.
He whispers again, softer this time. “C’mon, sweet girl. Let go for me.”
You bury your face in his neck with a muffled whine.
“I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.” His hand slides up your back slowly, calming and grounding all at once. “I got you.”
The words hit something deep in your chest.
Suddenly it’s too much. His voice, the rain outside, the way he keeps kissing your forehead between every sentence as if he can’t stop touching you.
Your movements turn frantic for a second before Luke steadies you again.
“Easy,” he murmurs, repeating, “I got you.”
“Lu—”
“I know, baby. I know.”
Luke kisses you slow again, grounding and deep, but the second you grind down harder against him, he breaks with a low groan into your mouth. His forehead falls against yours, eyes squeezed shut for a second while he exhales shakily.
“You’re killing me.”
“Sorry,” you whisper automatically.
That makes him laugh softly despite everything.
“Don’t apologize.” His nose nudges against yours affectionately. “I like when you need me.”
Your hips move again before you can help it, a moan cracking from within you as your clit drags perfectly against his throbbing length through your clothes.
Luke curses quietly under his breath. “That’s the one, huh?”
You nod quickly, breathing unevenly now.
He keeps helping you through it, guiding your rhythm with both hands firm on your waist while his own hips start moving more openly beneath you.
Every rock forward pulls another broken sound from your throat.
You finally lift your head enough to see him properly.
His hair is messy, lips swollen from kissing you, chest rising hard beneath your hands.
Completely undone for you, and the sight nearly makes you cum alone.
“Luke…” Your voice breaks around his name.
“I know.” His hand slides into your hair again immediately, gentle despite the tension running through him. “I know, my love. I got you.”
The praise and softness and pressure all blur together at once.
Your movements lose rhythm completely, desperate now. The second your forehead drops into his neck with a choked little sound, core snapping, twitching from your orgasm with unsteady breaths, Luke’s composure finally snaps too.
“Oh, fuck.”
His hands grip your hips hard enough to still you for a second while a sharp breath punches out of him. His head tips back against the pillow, spilling into his boxers while he rides it out beneath you, every muscle tense under your hands.
“That’s it,” he whispers hoarsely, pulling you back down against his chest almost immediately after. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.”
You can feel the uneven rise and fall of his breathing against your cheek while his hands rub slowly up and down your back again, gentler now.
Rain fills the silence for a few seconds.
Thunder rumbles somewhere out over the water.
Then quietly, still catching his breath, Luke presses a kiss to your temple.
“Feel better?”
A sleepy little laugh leaves you against his skin.
“So much better.”
“Yeah?” His arms tighten around you beneath the blankets. “Good.”
You stay tangled together in the dark for a long time after that, Luke lazily tracing shapes onto your spine while the storm rolls softly over the lake outside.
Every few minutes he kisses your forehead absentmindedly, warm and lingering.
“My sweet girl,” he murmurs eventually, his voice drifting and sleepy again. “Next time just wake me up sooner.”
thank u for reading!! feel free to chat in my inbox!! i am always down to be a freak or talk whenever! ✭
2026 © MALUVV all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate on any other platform pls & thank you!
hands to myself - lh43 x reader
★ A/N - 3 times you can't keep your hands off luke type beat. i'm still jet lagged even tho i've been back in toronto for a week now HELP ME PLEASE. yall know the drill; IF THIS IS SHIT DONT TELL ME I'LL CRY I CAN'T HANDLE CRITICISM (this is a joke)
☾ warnings - I DID NOT PROOFREAD A THING. this has sat in my drafts for about a week now and i warned yall I AM LAZY. anywho, touchy reader, lots of smooching, nothing explicit, baby fever, yeah yeah yeah yeah!
✽ word count - 2372 words
It starts as something small.
Your hand lingering too long at his waist. Fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie when he walks past, like you need something to hold you in place. The way your body instinctively leans toward his, even in rooms full of people, even when you know there are eyes on you.
Luke notices before anyone else does.
Of course he does.
He always does.
It’s in the way his mouth twitches when you slide your hand into his back pocket without thinking or how his breath catches just slightly when you press your face into his neck like you’re trying to disappear there. He doesn’t pull away, if anything, he leans into it subtly and quietly, like he’s just as hooked on the closeness as you are.
But there’s a difference between wanting him and whatever this is.
Because this isn’t just affection. It isn’t just habit.
It’s a kind of need that sneaks up on you at the worst possible times. A pull in your chest, low and insistent, that makes it hard to focus on anything except him—his hands, his voice, the way he looks at you like he already knows what you’re about to do.
And maybe that’s why you keep getting caught.
Because no matter how many times you tell yourself to rein it in, to act normal, to remember that there are other people around…
You always seem to forget.
And Luke never really stops you.
⋆⭒˚.⋆
The game is loud and fast.
You watch from the stands, heart caught somewhere between your ribs and your throat. When the Devils pull ahead and the final buzzer sounds, the arena erupts—but all you can focus on is him.
Your Luke.
He looks for you before he’s even off the ice.
It’s quick, just a flick of his gaze toward the glass, but it lands, and something hot and restless blooms in your chest.
By the time he’s out of the locker room, you’re already waiting.
You try to play it cool at first. You really do. You stand there, arms crossed loosely, acting like you haven’t been thinking about how broad and solid he looks in his gear, how easy it is to pick him out of a crowd, or how your eyes keep finding him without even trying.
But the second he walks toward you, hair still damp, jaw a little flushed from the cold.
You fold.
It’s immediate.
All that pretending, all that effort to act normal, gone in a second.
Your arms uncross before you even realize it, your body is already moving toward him like it’s instinct, like it doesn’t need your permission. He barely has time to say your name before your hands are on him.
"Hey," he starts, a smile already breaking through, like he knows.
“Hi,” you breathe, but it comes out softer than you meant it to, threaded with something a little too honest.
He huffs out a quiet laugh, hands coming up to steady your waist, thumbs pressing in just enough to ground you.
“Miss me?” he teases, but his voice is low and warm, he’s already leaning into you and giving in.
You nod too quickly.
“Yeah.”
It’s not even embarrassing anymore how fast you admit it.
By the time you make it out to the parking lot, the cold air hits your skin. Everything feels more heightened, more real, and too exposed.
Your grip tightens as you walk, your arm sliding around his middle, fingers pressing into him like you’re trying to make sure he’s still there. He glances down at you, a little amused, a little curious.
“You okay?” he asks.
“No,” you admit quickly.
That gets his attention.
“Not okay how, baby?”
You don’t answer with words.
Instead, you tug him toward the car, a little harder than necessary, your back hitting the side of it with a soft thud as he follows. His brows lift, surprised, but he doesn’t resist you.
“Hey,” he starts, but you cut him off, your hands sliding up his jacket, gripping, pulling him down to you.
And then you’re kissing him.
It’s not soft. It’s not subtle.
It’s the kind of kiss that steals the air right out of your lungs, all urgency and heat and desperate. His reaction is immediate, one of his hands bracing against the car beside your head, the other finding your hip, pressing you closer.
“Okay,” he breathes against your mouth, like he’s trying to catch up.
But he’s kissing you back just as hard, the two of you don’t even think about where you are… not until later.
Until you’re curled up beside him that night after your shower together, your head resting against his shoulder, his phone in his hand.
“Uh,” he says.
You glance up, admiring the dark, wet curls forming around his face. “What?”
He turns the screen slightly toward you.
An Instagram post.
And there, grainy, slightly blurred, but unmistakable, are the two of you.
You, pressed against the car, hands tangled in his jacket. Him, leaning into you, one hand on your waist, the other braced beside your head, kissing you like nothing else exists.
Your stomach drops.
“Oh my God.”
Luke just stares at it for a second, then he huffs out a quiet laugh.
“Yeah,” he says. “That’s… pretty bad.”
You groan, covering your face. “Quinn’s gonna give us so much shit.”
He shrugs, tossing his phone somewhere on the couch, his arm sliding around you again like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Worth it,” he says simply.
You peek at him through your fingers. “Yeah?”
His gaze flicks down to your mouth, then back up.
“Yeah.”
⋆⭒˚.⋆
Summer at the lake house is supposed to be easy.
Slow mornings. Long afternoons. The hum of boats in the distance and the constant movement of people in and out of the house. Jack, Quinn, their parents, and friends dropping by like it’s second nature.
It’s comfortable.
Familiar.
But it’s awful.
You haven’t seen Luke all day.
He left early that morning to go golfing with his brothers and his dad, pressing you a quick kiss on your head before he went, promising he wouldn’t be gone too long.
That was hours ago.
And now you’re sitting inside, half-listening to a conversation you’re not really part of, your knee bouncing slightly, your attention drifting every time you hear a car outside.
You don’t even realize you’ve stood up until someone asks where you’re going.
“Water,” you say quickly, already moving.
But you don’t make it to the kitchen.
Because the front door opens.
And there he is.
Sun-warmed, slightly flushed, curls a mess from the day, laughing at something Jack says as they step inside.
Your chest tightens.
There it is again.
That pull.
That need.
You don’t think.
You just move.
"Hey, baby—” Luke starts, but you’re already there, your hands on him, tugging him away from the entryway before anyone can really process what’s happening.
“Hi,” you say, breathless, like you’ve been waiting all day just for this moment.
He blinks at you, caught off guard, but then he smiles.
“Hi,” he echoes.
You don’t stop.
You pull him down the hallway, past the kitchen, past the living room, until you find a quieter corner where the noise fades just enough.
And then you’re kissing him again.
“Miss me?” he murmurs against your lips, clearly amused.
You nod, your hands sliding up his chest and around, gripping the hair on the nape of his neck like you need to make up for lost time.
“Yeah,” you say. “A lot.”
He exhales, his forehead resting briefly against yours. “We were gone for like… six hours.”
“Too long.”
That makes him chuckle.
But his hands tighten on your waist anyway, lips pressing back into you with hunger, slower this time.
You don’t hear anything around you anymore until-
"EUGHHHH, are you serious?!” Jack’s voice breaks through the quiet.
You jerk back instantly, your hands dropping like you’ve been burned.
He’s halfway down the hall, one hand over his eyes, the other thrown up in the air in pure disbelief.
“Come on,” he groans. “Like—right here? In the hallway? This is a shared space!”
Your face heats up immediately, embarrassment crashing in all at once as reality snaps back into place.
“Oh my God.”
Luke just exhales, dragging a hand down his face, somewhere between annoyed and amused.
“Get a room, you freaks," Jack shouts back, already turning away.
He disappears toward the bathroom, still muttering under his breath.
Silence settles for half a second.
Then a small but growing chuckle bubbles out of Luke.
“Well,” he says, “at least it wasn’t my mom.”
You groan again, swatting his arm.
“This is your fault.”
“My fault?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow. “You pounced on me the second I walked through the door.”
You nod, but you’re smiling.
Then he glances down the hallway, toward the noise of the house, before looking back at you.
“C’mon,” he murmurs before pressing one more gentle kiss to your lips.
His hand tightens around yours. When he starts walking, you follow without question.
⋆⭒˚.⋆
The third time sneaks up on you.
Because it doesn’t start with him.
It starts with her.
Grits’ daughter.
She’s small, all soft curls and bright eyes, tucked comfortably in Luke’s arms like she belongs there. He’s talking to her in that low, gentle voice you don’t hear often, there’s something warm and careful in the way he holds her, like he’s afraid of doing it wrong somehow.
But he’s not.
He looks like a natural.
Your chest tightens as something deep within you shifts.
You don’t expect it. You don’t prepare for it. It just hits you all at once, a quiet, overwhelming thought that settles somewhere deep and refuses to leave.
You want that.
It’s ridiculous.
You know it is.
You’re only 21, he’s 22. Your lives are barely settled, constantly moving, and still growing into yourselves.
But watching him like this, it doesn’t feel out of reach.
Luke glances up, catching you staring.
“What?” he asks, smiling slightly, still rocking Yesenia gently back and forth.
You shake your head quickly. “Nothing.”
But it’s not nothing because from that moment on, something in you shifts.
The rest of the evening you stay closer to him than usual, your hand always finding his sleeve, his wrist, his hand, or the back of his shirt. You lean into him more, rest your head on his shoulder, press your face into his neck practically huffing him.
And he notices.
“You okay?” he asks quietly at one point, his hand settling over yours.
You nod.
Too quickly.
“Yeah…” You hesitate, searching for wording that makes sense and doesn’t sound outright bizarre. “I just want to be near you.”
His expression softens.
“You are near me,” he says playfully, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, tucking you in closer to his chest.
It’s almost unbearable, your need to be alone with him, to have his full attention.
You shift closer, fingers curling into his shirt, tugging lightly.
“Lu,” you murmur.
He turns immediately to you. “Yeah?”
You hesitate. “Can we go?”
His brows knit slightly. “Go where?”
You glance around, lowering your voice.
“Anywhere. Just somewhere else.”
He studies you for a minute, green eyes boring into yours, before something clicks.
“Oh,” he says quietly.
You nod, your grip tightening just slightly.
“Please.”
There’s no teasing this time, no joking. He just understands, a kiss being pressed on your temple before he stands, offering a quick excuse to the group—something about being tired, about an early morning tomorrow. It’s smooth and believable enough despite the clumpsy delivery.
But the second you’re out of sight, your hand is back on him, pulling at him.
“Hey,” he says softly, stopping just long enough to catch your face in his hands. “What’s going on in that pretty head?”
You shake your head, already leaning into his touch.
“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly. “God, Luke.”
His thumbs brush over your cheeks slowly, eyes fixed on yours, adoration and all his attention laid thick on you.
“You’ve been all over me since dinner,” he says, his crooked grin cracking, voice lower than before. “Not complaining.”
Heat rushes to your face, but it only makes you press closer.
“I can’t help it.”
“No?” His brows rise in pure amusement.
You shake your head again, fingers bunching tighter in his shirt. “You holding her earlier really got in my head.”
Something flashes instantly across his face.
“Grits’ daughter?”
“Yeah.”
Luke exhales a quiet laugh, but it catches slightly when you step closer again, nearly flush against him now. “Baby fever?”
You groan, hiding your face briefly against his chest. “Shut up.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Yes.”
His laugh is warmer this time, quieter too, and you feel it under your cheek. Then his hands slide down your sides slowly before settling firmly on your hips.
“Look at me,” he says softly.
You barely have time to look up from his chest before he’s kissing you, all heat and want. The sound you make is embarrassing, but Luke just hums against your lips. Your hands fly into his hair automatically, tugging hard enough to make him inhale sharply.
“Jesus,” he mutters against your mouth.
"Sorry."
“Don’t,” he cuts in instantly, kissing you again before you can finish the apology. “Don’t apologize for that.”
You melt a little at the roughness in his voice.
Luke backs you up slowly until your shoulders brush the wall, his hands spreading across your waist like he needs to hold onto as much of you as possible.
“You were killing me out there,” he murmurs between kisses.
You blink up at him, dazed. “Me?”
"Mhm," he hums.
One of his hands slides up into your hair, gently tipping your head back so he can kiss you deeper, slower, until your knees feel weak from it. You clutch harder at his shirt instinctively, causing him to groan softly at the feeling before pulling away.
“Looking to see you constantly eyeing me down like prey does a number on me.”
He kisses you again anyway before grabbing at your hand, guiding you towards his car. “C’mon,” he says softly, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Before I stop being patient.”
thank u for reading!! feel free to chat in my inbox!! i am always down to be a freak or talk whenever! ✭
2026 © MALUVV all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate on any other platform pls & thank you!
dont worry guys, i didnt forget about my luke hughes imagines that are genuinely things that happened to me!
be by you - lh43 x reader
★ A/N - luke and luke combs makes like... a lot of sense. specifically this song, i can just see him being really shy and awkward but wanting to play it for you. and then quinn being tipsy, like think his press immediately after winning gold LMFAO.
☾ warnings - um kissing. & drunk quinn... also a little suggestive idk?
✽ word count - 1262
The first thing you notice about the lake house is how loud it is.
Nearly overwhelming. Screen doors slamming, overlapping voices, footsteps on old wood, laughter that spills out loudly. It feels worn in, familiar in a way that makes you aware you’re the only new thing in it.
And still, somehow, you don’t feel out of place.
Luke’s hand catches yours as he leads you through the kitchen, his fingers hooking loosely around your wrist like he needs that small point of contact. You’ve only arrived a few hours ago, but already you’ve been pulled into hugs, handed a drink, and exposed to at least three childhood stories Luke definitely didn’t want shared.
“Mom, we’re gonna take the boat out,” Luke calls, grabbing the keys off the counter.
Ellen turns from the sink, drying her hands. “Before dinner?” she asks, but she’s already smiling at you two, softer than she looks at her sons normally.
“It’ll be quick. Just wanna catch the sunset."
Her eyes flick between you two suspiciously but kindly, not prying.
From the living room, Jack’s voice cuts in immediately. “Oh, yeah, sunset.”
Quinn laughs, the few high noons he consumed loosening him up. “Better bleach the seats when they get back.”
You freeze for half a second, heat climbing your neck causing your already sunburnt cheeks to turn deeper. Luke groans.
“Can you two not—”
“I’m serious,” Jack continues, leaning over the couch. “We just got that boat detailed.”
Quinn adds, “I’m not sitting where you’ve… been.”
“Okay!” Ellen snaps, sharp enough to cut through all of it. She points the dish towel at them. “That’s enough. Leave them alone.”
Jack raises his hands, still grinning. “I’m just saying—”
“You’re done saying.”
Luke doesn’t even look back. His hand finds yours again, squeezing as he pulls you toward the door. “Ignore them,” he mutters, half laughing, half apologizing.
“I’m trying,” you say, even though your face is still warm.
Behind you, Quinn calls, “Love you guys! Be safe! Make good choices!”
The door shuts before anything worse can follow.
⋆⭒˚.⋆
Out on the boat, everything settles.
The air cools, the noise fades, and the lake opens up wide and endless in front of you, catching the sunset like glass. Luke moves easily, confidently—one hand on the wheel, the other resting near your thigh as you sit on his lap.
When he cuts the engine, the quiet is immediate.
You exhale, walking to one of the benches and plopping down against the padding. “Okay… this is way better.”
He glances at you, smiling a little. “Yeah?”
“No peanut gallery watching over my every move.”
“Debatable,” he says, glancing back toward the shoreline. “They’ve definitely got eyes on us.”
You laugh, but it softens as he settles beside you, your legs brushing, then tangling. His arm slides around your shoulders as you shimmy in between his legs, cheek to his chest.
Music starts quietly from the speakers, low and steady, blending into the soft lap of the water.
Luke Combs hums in the background, warm and easy.
You tilt your head slightly. “You picked this?”
He nods, a little shy about it. “Felt right.”
The sky is painted in soft golds and pinks, mirrored perfectly in the lake. Luke’s thumb starts tracing slow, absentminded patterns on your arm.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
“Yeah,” you say, softer now. “I am.”
He exhales like something in him settles.
“I’ve never brought anyone here before,” he says.
You shift, turning to look at him. “Here, like… the lake?”
He shakes his head. “Any of it. The house. My family. This.” He gestures lightly around you. “You’re the first.”
It lands heavier than you expect.
“Lu…”
“I don’t do this unless it means something,” he says, meeting your eyes fully now. “And it… means something with you.”
Your fingers curl into his shirt slightly, grounding yourself in something real.
“Your family’s trying to scare me off," you try to joke, but your voice is soft.
He smiles. “They love you.”
“You asked them?”
“I didn’t have to.” His hand finds your hair, brushing it back and out of your face absentmindedly. “My mom’s obsessed with you already. My dad likes you… that’s huge. And Jack and Quinn…” He smirks. “This is them being nice.”
“That’s nice?”
“Exactly.”
You laugh, leaning into him again, your head resting against his pec, listening to the steady thump of his heart.
“I was nervous,” you admit.
“I know.”
You lift your head slightly. “You did?”
“You were squeezing my hand like you were about to bolt.”
“I was not—”
“You were,” he says gently. “But you didn’t.”
You look back out at the horizon, the sun dipping lower now. “No. I didn’t.”
His arms tighten around you.
“I like you here,” he says after a moment. “With me. With them. It feels right.”
You turn your head, your nose brushing his jaw. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He pauses, then adds quietly, “I like who I am with you.”
That’s the thing that gets you.
Your hand comes up to his cheek, guiding him toward you. He leans into it instantly, eyes soft, like he’s been waiting for you to do that.
“You’re kinda stuck with me then,” you murmur.
“Good,” he says, barely above a whisper before leaning in and gently pressing your lips together.
The kiss is unrushed and soft. Like everything about the moment—the way the sun sinks, the way the water barely moves, the way his hand slides up your back to pull you closer like there’s nowhere else you should be.
And just as you go to deepen it further, in the faint distance—
“EUGHHHHHH!”
You both freeze for half a second.
Then Luke pulls back just enough to look past you toward the dock, squinting.
Two tiny, barely visible figures throwing their arms up in exaggerated disgust.
You stare for a beat… and then laugh, the sound breaking right out of you.
“No way,” you say, covering your face. “They are not watching us right now.”
“They absolutely are,” Luke says, already shaking his head, but he’s laughing too. “I told you.”
From across the water, another faint, drawn-out “GROOOOSSSS!” echoes.
You drop your hands, still smiling. “Your brothers are insane.”
“Yeah,” he says easily, his hand sliding back to your waist, pulling you in again to gain your attention back. He leans in, brushing his nose against yours. “Pretend they aren’t there.”
You huff a laugh. “Luke—”
But he kisses you again anyway.
This time, you don’t hesitate. You melt into it, even with the distant heckling, even with the faint splashes and exaggerated gagging noises carrying over the water.
Because it doesn’t really matter.
Not when his hand is warm against your back, not when the last of the sun is slipping below the horizon, not when everything about this feels steady in a way you didn’t expect.
When you pull back, you’re both smiling now.
“Think they’re done?” you ask.
Luke glances back once more. “No chance.”
Right on cue, a faint “GET A ROOM!” drifts across the lake.
You laugh again, softer this time, leaning your forehead against his.
“Your family is nuts.”
“Yeah,” he says, quieter now, his thumb brushing gently over your hand. “But they don’t do this to just anyone. And they’re really glad you’re here with me.”
That settles deep in your chest.
You don’t answer right away, you just tilt your head, pressing one more soft kiss to his lips as the sky fades from gold to blue, the music still humming low behind you.
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