#LUKE MY BOI | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

quintinh43 · 13 days

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Washing their back/hair in the shower.

oooo i could see luke loving his girlfriend washing his hair and she always does he curl routine for him

Toast my love 🥹 Thank you for requesting

The buzzer blared through the speakers of the TV, and you winced. The devils lost 5-4 in a shootout. Luke looked absolutely exhausted in his post game interview. It ticked you off a little that they made him do them so often. It's like they forgot he was a rookie sometimes.

Lukey The Loml: Be at urs in 20

You: Ok, drive safe love. See you in 20 ❤️

You paced around your apartment anxiously while you waited. You heard his footsteps in the hall, and before he even had a chance to stick his key in the lock, you were flinging the door open and holding your arms out to him.

Luke stepped over the threshold of the door, dropped his bag, and collapsed into your arms with a sigh. The height difference has him hunching over awkwardly for him to bury his face against your neck. His arms lock around your waist, and he sighs, melting further into the warmth of your body.

You card your fingers through his curls, fingers catching on all the knots from wearing his helmet for so long. You tug him further into your apartment, kicking the door shut as you go. He doesn't protest when you lead him to the bathroom and detangle him from your embrace to turn on the shower.

"You played so well, my darling boy," you say softly, helping him strip.

He gives you a tired smile, "Thanks, baby."

You make quick work of your own clothing and pull him into the shower. He groans, rolling his shoukders as the hot water hits his back. "Fuck I'm tired," he mutters attempting to run a hand through his hair. His fingers catch on the tangles, and he grunts frustratedly, yanking at his hair.

"Sit down, darling, I got you," you say, tugging his hand from his hair gently, and guiding him to sit on the shower seat, he does so without complaint, closing his eyes and ducking his head under the hot stream of water. He rests his hands on your hips, rubbing gentle circles with the pads of his thumbs.

You pop open the shampoo bottle, squirting some in your palms and lathering it up. The scent of coconut and vanilla melds with the steam, and your fingers delve into his curls once again, massaging at his scalp expertly. He melts against you with a happy sigh, his forehead resting against your torso.

Luke will never get tired of having you wash his hair, and honestly, you'll never get tired of washing it for him. Your fingers move in gentle cirlcles from the top of his head to his temples to the back of his neck. You detach the shower head and rinse the shampoo out of his hair before reaching for the conditioner.

You spread it all over your palms and drag your hands through the ends of his hair, working out all the knots with practiced ease. Luke had never been a post game ritual guy. As long as he had a shower, snack, and got to sleep, he was good. Until you came along, with your whirlwind of hair products and showed him the wonders of having his hair washed by another person.

Now, whenever he had the opportunity, he pulled you into the shower with him and made you wash and style his hair. You scrub him down gently and rinse out the conditioner. If he notices the floral scent of the body wash, rather than whatever the fuck Night panther smells like, he doesn't comment. Although you know he likes your bodywash better.

You hand Luke a towel and wrap one around yourself before padding to the bedroom and grabbing a change of clothes for the pair of you. Sweats and a hoodie for Luke, and one of his sweat shirts and shorts for yourself.

Luke takes the change of clothes from you and plants a kiss on your temples, "Thank you, baby."

As soon as the two of you are clothed, Luke is hoisting you onto the bathroom counter and standing between your legs patiently, his hands rest on your thighs, tracing shapes absent-mindedly. You lock your legs around his hips, ensuring he's as close as possible while you run product through his still wet hair.

Leave in conditioner, scrunch, then gel and scrunch again.

You twirl a couple of wonky looking curls around your finger to make them coil neatly. You twist around to wash the product off your hands and then pull him in for a sweet kiss. Luke kisses you back softly, cupping your face with so much care that it makes your heart gooey in your chest.

You pull away, panting softly as you rest your forehead against his. "Come on, i'll make you a snack and we'll cuddle on the couch and watch a movie. Ok?"

Luke can't resist pressing another kiss to your lips, hoping he can pour all the love he feels into it. "Thanks for making me feel better."

"It's nothing darling, that's what I'm here for," you shrug.

"I love you so much," he murmurs, pressing fluttering kisses to your cheeks, "more than I have words for,"

Your cheeks warm, and you smile shyly.

"I love you too, my darling, with my whole heart."

#luke hughes #lh43 #lukey pookie #our curley haired boy #this was so fun to write #my uni assignment is staring holes into my skull as i write this #yes im poking fun at old spice names #nhl imagine #luke hughes x you #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x reader

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hugshughes · 7 months

Text

my tears ricochet R. McGroarty

Rutger McGroarty x fem!reader

synopsis - Based on “my tears ricochet” by Tay obvs. Reader is on the umich soccer team and when they lose the NCAA championship game, and Rutger is there, reader is confused and sad in a way that he would come to this game after their terrible breakup.

wc - 3.0k!

contains - reader is on the umich soccer team! lightly edited! angst!!!!!!!! then a sprinkle of fluff. reader has a panic attack and has trouble breathing, crying, descriptions of a terrible breakup, kissing, happy ending, lmk!

an - this was probably the hardest one so far, other than the last great american dynasty, which i promise is coming soon! ALSO. 200 FOLLOWERS????? THANK U GUYS! I swear I’m trying to speed up the process of writing these but it’s harder than I thought. I've been getting more requests than usual lately! You guys are all so cute btw. I've gotten multiple about Behind My Back with Nolan part 2 and it's on the way! I'm so slow at writing smut. Anyways hope you enjoyyyy!

we gather here, we like up, weepin’ in a sunlit room. and if i’m on fire, you’ll be made of ashes too.

The final whistle blew, the game was over. You crouched to the ground, palm flat on the field as you wept. You could barely breathe as the UNC team flooded the field, screaming in victory, group-hugging 10 feet from you. 4-3 in overtime. You dropped to sit on the ground, arms loosely wrapped around your knees as you stared at the crowd.

The sea of Carolina blue jumping up and down, smiling, shouting. The motionless pit of maize and navy, crying, grief, disappointment. In you. They’re all disappointed in you, that’s what you tell yourself.

Your best friend sits next to you, enveloping you in a hug, you hear her whimpers, you feel her tears.

“I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head at you, hugging you tighter than ever before pulling away, holding your face, wiping your cheeks.

“No, don’t say that. This isn’t your fault. Okay? It isn’t. You scored 2 of our goals tonight, and you just did so good okay? This isn’t your fault.”

You looked at the ground, trying to catch your breath. You’re only a sophomore, you’ll have more championships to win. She didn’t though, she was a senior.

“This was just your last game, and I just- I let you down and coach and-”

“Honey, it’s okay. I’ll be okay. You cannot blame this game just on you.”

You hesitantly nod, letting her help you to your feet. The rest of your team is hugging, some crying, some seething, some trying to smile.

You run to your coach, she opens her arms wide to hug you. She’s trying to smile, trying to tell you that it’s okay as you heave out the word sorry over and over, sobbing as you try to catch your breath, to no avail.

Your chest heaves as you try to breathe, but nothing is going in or out, you’re about to have a panic attack. You grip your jersey where your heart is, the navy material soiled from tears and sweat. Your coach lets out a curse as she realizes what’s going on, your best friend sees you, running over, holding your arms, trying to calm you down.

You can’t, you were warm before, but now it’s like you’re suffocating.

“I- I can’t! Fuck, I-”

The worse you cry the less you can breathe, but the less you’re breathing the more you’re crying.

Your trainer runs over, hand on your back as she urges you off to the sidelines. You know there are dozens of cameras on you, making everything ten times worse.

It’s time for you guys to shake hands but instead, you are urged off the field, down through the tunnel, and to the locker rooms. They sit you down in your designated stall, offering water, fanning you with random papers, holding your hands, everything as you start to breathe again. When you’re finally steadily breathing again, you feel embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry! Shit- I just-”

They just shush you, hugging you tight. You, as the star player of Michigan Women’s Soccer are informed you’re doing press with your best friend, the captain, now. You almost cry again, you know someone is bound to ask about your leaving the field early.

But here you are, sitting next to your best friend, holding hands under the table for some form of stability as you look at the reporters and flashing cameras in front of you, fans behind them.

Your best friend answers the majority of the first chunk of questions, you only chiming in a few times. Your name is called by a reporter, a question just for you.

“Would you like to comment on what happened with your early departure after the game?”

You tense, your best friend’s hold on your hand tightens, comforting you as much as possible.

“Oh um, yeah. So uh, I was having some trouble breathing and stuff and I needed to go back to the locker room. I apologize if I came across as rude to any of the UNC girls, I still definitely want to congratulate them.”

The reporter nods, and you get sad smiles from almost everyone you can see. You get another question about your performance.

“I think I definitely could’ve played better, I’m disappointed in my performance tonight, I’ve apologized to teammates and coaches. I did as well as I could in the moment, Carolina is a really talented group of girls. I-”

You see him, Rutger fucking McGroaty, standing at the back of the group, Ethan, Mark, Dylan, and a few other hockey players with him. Your voice catches, and your mind is blank.

even on my worst day, did i deserve, babe, all the hell you gave me? ‘cause i loved you, i swear i loved you. ‘til my dying day.

The eye contact is full of pain, you feel your heart stutter. Your breathing that had finally started evening out is suddenly picking back up, but also somehow slowing down? It just, hurts. Why was he here? Why would he do that to you?

What was he trying to do? Was he trying to see you? Was he just trying to watch the game?

You looked to your coach, the attention of the reporters on your best friend, with pleading eyes. She nods for you to leave, and you silently thank her, slipping out of the seat and discreetly exiting the room, having to walk right by the guys, and some fans along the way. You wave at a little girl dressed head to toe in maize and blue, your jersey adorning her little body.

You crouched down next to her, letting her grab your hand.

“Hi sweetheart, how are you doing?”

She smiles brightly, making your heart swell. She has your number drawn out on her cheek, and a Michigan temporary tattoo on the other.

“I’m good! It was fun watching you play, even if you couldn’t win. I saw you crying, are you okay? You still did really really awesome, even my brother thinks so!”

She gestures to her slightly older brother, a boy who looked about 8.

“Oh yeah, I’ll be okay. Well sweetheart, if you’d like it, I would love to sign your jersey.”

Her face lights up, she squeals and hugs you, which you accept. She turns around and you sign right next to your number on her maize jersey. She thanks you and squeezes your hand while taking a picture with you. You’re finishing up with them when her brother almost shouts.

“Are those the Mich hockey guys?”

You freeze, eyes darting from the ground to the little boy and then up to Rutger's shocked face. Rutger quickly puts his fan persona on, greeting the kids.

'cause i loved you, i swear i loved you. 'til my dying day.

You realize you're position, frozen and staring at Rutger in front of all these people, and you quickly turn to go. You get about ten feet when you hear someone quietly shout your name, then twice. Someone, being Rutger. You didn't wanna talk to him. You really did want to talk to him, you just knew you couldn't.

You are in the tunnel at this point, striding a few more feet to make sure no one can see you before stopping when he says your name once again. When you turn around he stares at you silently, his eyes filled with hurt. You wish you could run into his arms, but you can't, you can't.

i didn't have it in myself to go with grace, and you're the hero flying around, saving face. and if i'm dead to you why are you at the wake?

"What are you doing here Rut?"

You could feel the tears lining your eyes, pushing to break past your waterline. He has the same tears, which hurt you even more.

"I'm sorry."

That you lost? That he came here? That he called for you? That he broke your heart?

"For what, Rutger?"

The tears were close to spilling for both of you. He lets out a shaky exhale, wiping his nose and sniffling.

"I- Um, everything? I just, I'm sorry."

cursing my name, wishing i stayed. look at how my tears ricochet.

You didn't know what to do. Part of you was about to throw yourself into his arms while another part was about to sprint as far away from him as you could.

He stood there, quickly wiping a tear that fell. In this moment, losing the game was the farthest thing from your mind. Everything in your mind was just completely overwhelmed with him. At one point he was everything to you, you knew in part of you he still was.

we gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean. some to throw, some to make a diamond ring.

When you and Rutger had broken up, it had been terrible for both of you. Rutger wasn't allowed to be alone afterward for two weeks, not that you knew that, his friends wanted to tell you and try to get you back to him but he wouldn't let them. He was too embarrassed by the idea. His friends begging for you for him because he couldn't handle a breakup? Please. What Rutger doesn't know is that you would've run straight back to him if you'd known. He was your lifeline.

Your relationship was like a dream, you'd started dating in July of 2022 and broke up the next May. You guys were inseparable, in a cute way. You guys were always there for each other, no matter what. But out of nowhere, in April, Rutger started freaking out about everything happening in his life. The team had just lost the frozen four, and he was just hurt from that and he was not himself. Even weeks after, when the other boys had seemingly gotten over it, he couldn't seem to shake the feeling in his chest.

The feeling started affecting other parts of his life, too. Specifically, your relationship. He'd become way cut off from you, and a lot more mean. It went on for three weeks before you broke up with him. You just couldn't keep trying when you were getting nothing back, even though it hurt you so badly to do it.

you know i didn't want to have to haunt you. but what a ghostly scene. you wear the same jewels that i gave you, as you bury me.

You rub your eyes before looking up from the ground to him, and then you see it. The ring he once gave you on a chain around his neck. He'd kept it when you gave it back to him.

You remember every detail about the night he gave you that ring. Where he'd taken you, how he held you in the cold of February nights in Ann Arbor. You remember his confession of love to you. How he was worried you'd think he was proposing, how he shakily opened the ring box when you got back to his room, and how he said he wanted to give it to you in your scenic snowy walk through a local park but had gotten too nervous. You remember how you kissed him, and how he brought tears to your eyes.

i didn't have it in myself to go with grace. 'cause when i'd fight, you used to tell me i was brave. and if i'm dead to you why are you at the wake? cursing my name, wishing i stayed. look at how my tears ricochet.

Him being here, crying, apologizing, you losing the game, everything was just so much, but when you looked into his eyes he was still your everything. Your boy, the one that made you fall in love with every part of him, every crack and crevice, every flaw. He was still yours, no matter if you were together or apart. And you were his too, you knew that, you both did.

You can't imagine what your friends would think if you'd told them how close you were to kissing Rutger right now. They would never believe you, not after the months you spent trying oh so hard to convince yourself you were better off without him, no matter how false that statement was.

You knew you would need him, always did. He didn't know that though, when he would stalk your social media all summer, seeing you post in your little white linen dresses, having fun at the beach with your friends, he convinced himself he'd never get another chance with you. And you knew that if he tried hard enough, he could completely win you back, 100 times over.

and i can go anywhere i want, anywhere i want, just not home. and you can aim for my heart, go for blood, but you would still miss me in your bones.

He was your safe haven, whenever you were with him everything was just good, you didn't have to worry about anything with him, he wouldn't let you. He was your person.

You just stared at him, thoughts running a thousand miles per minute. You wanted him, you needed him. You knew it, too. He was always gonna be the only man that ever came to mind when you heard a love song by Taylor Swift, the only man you thought of when you saw a husband and wife with a little baby on your for you page, the only one.

i didn't have it in myself to go with grace.

He sniffled again, and you practically lunged at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and tucking your head into the crook of his neck. You started to cry again as his arms went around your hips, holding you so tightly. He was so warm, he smelled so good, he was definitely home for you if you had one. You felt his tears fall onto the base of your neck. He was mumbling i love yous and i'm sorrys like prayers. You just said the three words back, telling him it was okay because you knew it would be. As long as you had him.

and so the battleships will sink beneath the waves. you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same. cursing my name, wishing i stayed.

You pulled away from him, just a little, his tight hold on you barely let up, he couldn't let you go. You cupped his cheeks with your hands, looking into his now bloodshot, but otherwise beautiful blue eyes. You giggled, this was so crazy, you couldn't even believe it. Your amusement at the situation must've made Rutger feel embarrassed because he shook his head from your hold and buried his head into your neck. You could see his rose tinted ears. You ran your hands through his hair.

You had not the slightest idea what this meant for you two, but it definitely felt right, like you were whole again. You knew that he would come back to your life, you always felt it. And you knew you guys were gonna have to have a serious long talk about everything, but right now it just felt so good to take solace in him, acting like you were never broken up.

you turned into your worst fears. and you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain. crossing out the good years.

If you knew one thing, it was that Rutger McGroaty was your boy, and you were his girl. No matter how much time kept you apart you'd always find each other again. You loved him, too much to lose him. Especially now that you were both given another chance.

"Rut?"

He moved his head a little, adjusting his arms around your hips, grumbling out an 'mhm?'

"I'm really happy you're here."

He came out of hiding at that, smiling at you, you smiled back, partially because of how cute he looked with slightly puffy eyes and rosy cheeks.

"For real?"

You gave him a pointed look, 'duh', written all over your features. He smiled brighter, his perfect teeth on display, oh you so hoped he would never experience any teeth loss during his hockey career, even though he'd probably look fucking adorable.

"I love you. I'm not letting you down ever again, I promise. I'm gonna be perfect, okay?"

You looked at him like he had just hung the stars one by one. You shook your head mumbling something about how you loved him so much and he'd never let you down and he was already perfect in your book before pulling him into a kiss. He smiled so hard into the kiss, and so did you.

Even though you'd just lost one of the most important soccer games in your life, you'd just won someone that was more important than any soccer trophy you could ever receive.

and you're cursing my name, wishing i stayed. look at how my tears ricochet.

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