daniiiboo

[daniiiboo]

better in my jersey - lh43

summary - Luke insists the reader wears his jersey to a game. The reader pretends to refuse, teasing him all day, only to show up proudly wearing it and cheering loudest when he scores.

dani's thoughts - Luke Luke Luke Luke !!! day three of my birthday fics <3

warnings - nothinn

word count - 430

read the rest of my birthday fic countdown : here !

"Just wear it," Luke complained from the edge of the bed, grabbing his jersey from his duffel bag and holding it above his head like an offering.

You, calmly sitting in the corner of the room with a wicked grin, crossed your arms.

"Mmm… I don't know. I already have a quite cute Devils crewneck."

Luke pouted , over-the-top, NHL-boyfriend pouting.

"But it's not my jersey," he reminded me, holding it high like a treasured artifact.

"Come on. Hughes on the back? It's a look."

You tilted your head in mock innocence.

"Is it?"

He scowled at you.

"You're messing with me."

You grinned, shrugging.

"Maybe."

Luke dropped the jersey onto the bed with a dramatic flourish and groaned. "

You are the worst."

You grinned, heading over to kiss his cheek.

"You'll make it through warmups without me in your name.".

He muttered something under his breath about betrayal as he stormed out, but you didn't catch the anxious glance he tossed back over his shoulder ,in case you ever changed your mind.

You did.

You just didn't tell him.

The arena was charged that evening, red lights strobing, the crowd dense and deafening. You slipped down to your regular place behind the bench just ahead of puck drop, hoodie up the entire way.

The game was frenetic. Fast. Tight. The Devils were flying.

And then, in the last moments of the second period, Luke scored.

Pure perfection. A pure wrist shot from the blue line, through traffic. The horn blared, the lights strobed, and the team mobbed him.

You jumped to your feet, peeling back your hoodie to show the #43 HUGHES jersey underneath it, his jersey, pulled straight from his bag.

You screamed louder than anyone else in the section.

When Luke glanced over at the bench and spotted you, his smile changed. It wasn't the on-ice grin. It was softer. Lighter. For you.

He once touched his chest, over the letters on his own jersey, and directed his finger at you.

Red-handed. Caught. In his name.

You blew him a kiss and mouthed,

"Worth the wait?"

He smiled, cheeks flushing, before he skated away.

Later that night, showered and victory-stinking, Luke almost tackled you onto the couch, his arms wrapped around you from behind.

"I knew you were gonna wear it," he breathed smug into your neck.

"You were so smugly proud of yourself," you goaded.

"Because I was!" He nuzzled quietly, his face in your shoulder. "You in my jersey?" Unbeatable.

You smiled.

"Guess I'll keep it, then."

Luke recoiled, his eyes shining.

"Only if you wear it to every game. And afterwards. And to bed."

You laughed.

"Luke!"

"What?" he grinned. "You said it suited you. I'm just agreeing."

[daniiiboo]

the cure for everything - js20

summary - Juraj comes home with a swollen face. The reader tries to fuss over him, but he just pulls them into his lap

dani's thoughts - Juraj my king!!!!! and day two of my birthday count down :) I love him so so so much <3

warnings - nothinnn

word count - 377

read the rest of my birthday countdown fics : here !

You heard the front door open after you glanced at the clock. Later than you ever came home. And quieter.

That was your first clue.

The second one was the definite thump of a duffle bag being dropped onto the floor with a little more weight than needed.

You poked your head around the corner from the kitchen.

"Slaf?"

Juraj's long body came into view, still in his Habs team hoodie, cheeks flushed with cold and effort, one arm locked against his side. His lip was split, but very slightly, the smallest bruise beginning to show under his eye.

And yet, he smiled when he saw you.

You strode three paces across the room.

"What's happening? Oh my god, your face-"

He shooed you away, and that only made you more suspicious.

"Just a hit in the corner. Happens all the time."

"That's not just a hit, Juraj. You're, wait, are you bleeding? Did they even give you ice?" You were already tugging at the sleeve of his hoodie like a stubborn ER nurse.

He chuckled, soft and rasp

"Baby, I'm fine."

You scowled.

"You tell me that, but your expression says you fought with a vending machine."

He inched closer and kissed the crown of your head.

"And I won."

You snorted, but your worry didn't cause you to forgo hugging him around the waist carefully, taking care around his shoulder. He moved into the hug, resting his chin on your head, great arms enfolding you.

"Get you some ice," you grumbled, already up to grab a towel.

But Juraj caught your wrist, restraining you.

"No ice."

"Juraj."

He sprawled on the couch and scooped you onto his lap, wrapping you in his arms like a big hug blanket. You tumbled into his arms naturally, attempting to be gentle against his battered muscles.

He breathed a deep, contented breath into your hair.

"Cuddles do it better."

You blinked up at him.

“That’s not science.”

“It is now.”

You sighed, smiling despite yourself.

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he murmured, eyes fluttering closed, “you’re still in my lap.”

You stayed there, tangled up together, his heartbeat steady against your cheek. Eventually, your fingers found his and laced together. His injured side pressed carefully to the couch, your weight tucked against the other.

He didn't require the ice. Not when you were warm and present and holding him like that.

Perhaps he was correct.

Perhaps cuddles did cure.

[daniiiboo]

mv1- every race, every hug

summary - max cant get his gloves on properly, so reader helps him.

dani's thoughts - first fic in my birthday countdown :)) i honestly love max, and this fic is so cute to mee

warnings - nothinn

word count - 610

read the rest of my birthday countdown fics : here !

It starts like it always does.

Max is pacing the floor of his motorhome in his race suit, one glove on, the other dangling from his fingers, his brows furrowed like something isn’t quite right. You’re leaning against the doorframe, watching him spin in little anxious circles.

"Max," you call out. He stops running, glancing over at you with that familiar look, like he requires help but is too arrogant to say so out loud.

You tilt your head. "Trouble?"

He raises his gloved hand in frustration.

"It's stupid," he mutters. "I can never get this one tightened up right. It's as if the glove has a sixth sense and knows when I'm rushed."

You smile and walk toward him, already reaching for the strap. “Here let me help you, I got it.”

Max chuckles under his breath. “You should be on the payroll.”

Pay me in hugs," you joke back to him, already getting the way the glove fits correctly, drawing it up tightly around his wrist like you have a dozen times. It's become a ritual now, quiet, intimate, something known by only the two of you before he faces the paddock storm.

When the glove is on and the strap buckled just so, you strike his knuckles and spread your arms.

"Okay. Now the other half of the bargain."

He comes in without thinking. Arms tight around you, helmet against your shoulder, his whole body unwinds in your arms. The tension before the race melts away to something more concrete.

"I hate how much this comforts me," he growls.

You grin. "Love you too."

The race is chaos.

There's rain on the track, there's a mid-race safety car, there's disaster narrowly avoided in Turn 11. Your heart's racing half the time, but your fingers are still tingling from tying his glove.

And then, he wins.

Not just a win, him dominating. Sprints a blistering last lap, crossing the line with space to spare before the next car even spots the checkered flag. The garage erupts. You're cheering along, but there is only one destination your eyes wander: the screen showing his face, red and flushed beneath the helmet.

You hardly realize he's pursuing you until you turn and see him running along the paddock walkway, helmet already off, rosy-cheeked and grinning.

He doesn't say anything. Just picks you up and holds you in his arms tightly enough that your feet lift off the ground for an instant.

"You were watching?" he asks, still panting.

"Of course," you laugh against his chest.

He belittles you but won't let go. No, he takes off one glove and shoves his fingers between yours.

"You're going to all the races now," he announces.

Your eyebrows jump. "What?"

Max edges closer.

"No more weekend skippings. I need you. The gloves won't fit on properly without you, and I don't win without the hug."

"Max—"

“I’m serious,” he cuts in, smiling but sincere. “You think it’s a coincidence I’ve had my best starts when you’re there? It’s the glove. It’s you. It’s us.”

You blink, overwhelmed for a second by how serious he is.

“But it’s, like… twenty-two races.”

He shrugs.

"Then we'll get you a paddock pass. Your own headset. I don't care. I just—" He stops, looking down at your clasped hands. "I'm better when you're there. And I drive better when I'm better."

You look at him, all windswept hair and pink cheeks and fireproofs unzipped halfway, and your heart actually aches with how much you love him.

"Okay," you whisper. "Every race. Every glove. Every hug."

He kisses your forehead, and your nose, and your lips.

"I'll win every damn time."

[daniiiboo]

dani's writing countdown!

about --> hi im dani, and my birthday is on the 27th, which is this friday!! because of this i wanted to celebrate by writing 5 stories, each of them being one of my favorite athletes. thank u for staying and enjoy!!!

day one --> max verstappen

Where max struggles to put his gloves on properly, so the reader helps him.

day two --> juraj slafkovsky

Juraj comes home with a swollen face, and when reader tries to fuss over him, he just wants to lay down.

day three --> luke hughes

Luke insists on reader wearing his jersey to the NJ devils game. The reader playfully refuses all day, only to show up to the game wearing it and cheering the loudest for him.

day four --> charles leclerc

The reader surprises the driver by showing up at the race when they weren’t supposed to be there.

day five --> quinn hughes

Quinn calls reader from his hotel bed on a long roadie, missing them.

[daniiiboo]

hey guys!! omgg I'm so sorry for the break, literally everything made me so busy I couldn't get to writing, but dw dw I got smth planned :)

[daniiiboo]

It's my 3 year anniversary on Tumblr?! I guess I'm three guys? I'm so so so sorry for the absence, betweens sports , classes, and performing I have had no time to be online :( but thank you to all the friends I've made throughout my three years and all the love and support given to me, I'm going to try to be more active so watch out >:)

[daniiiboo]

at this point... i have no faith in ferrari... anything can happen...

oscar piastri wdc 2025. it will happen.

[daniiiboo]

dont tell my friend, but i have a $15 dollar bet that mclaren wont win today, and im not that confident right now guys..

[daniiiboo]

https://x.com/suzukfield/status/1904303535262400897?s=46&t=-V2NAQQlLt2yK_JFnHTqcg

Ill be the first to sign the petition

[daniiiboo]

love letters- lh43

summary- luke leaves for his roadie, but he writes little notes around the house for you to find.

trigger warnings- reader is a little sad Luke left, but nothin elsee

dani's thoughts- ive been so busy, i havent had time to finish this fic, but I'm so happy with how it turned out!!

word count- 1.3k

Luke had left earlier this morning to make it on time to leave with his team. The road trip schedule was booked solid, and even though he promised to call and text as frequently as he could, the apartment nevertheless felt too very empty without him, even though he was gone for a couple hours.

You woke up to sunlight filtering through the curtains, the sharp sting of late winter air that sent shivers down your spine. Without Luke's warmth beside you, the bed felt cavernous. You rolled onto your back, letting out a breath, but then your eye was caught on something , a little wadded-up ball of paper on his pillow.

In his unmistakable handwriting, it read:

Good morning, love. I'm sure you're missing my obnoxious snoring about now. Have a good day and know that I'm thinking of you.

A smile tugged at your lips. It was so characteristic of Luke , sweet, thoughtful, and goofily charming. You clutched the note to your chest, his words seeping into your heart like a warm hug.

After dragging yourself out of bed, you went to make coffee. But when you opened the cupboard, another note fell down.

Don't forget, you make the best coffee in the world. I love you more than my morning cup. And that's saying something.

You smiled to yourself, imagining his sheepish grin as he wrote it. The apartment no longer felt so empty.

Throughout the day, the notes seemed like little explosions of Luke's presence. On the floor beneath the remote on the coffee table was another one:

I'm not there to pick the movie, but I have faith in you to make the right choice. Unless you pick a rom-com. Then we'll need to have words.

By lunchtime, you found a note on the fridge:

I know you're probably waiting here, suffering from takeout agony. But remember the way I bragged when you got that pasta recipe right? You can do this, baby.

You took his advice, smiling to yourself as you cooked. It wasn't perfect, but with Luke's belief in you, it was all the sweeter.

You'd spent the hour leading up to lunch attempting to prepare, but then you had to get things accomplished. Fold laundry, one of them being. And there, among the clothes, was another note shoved into Luke's hoodie pocket.

Miss me yet? Don't worry, this hoodie still smells like me. Bonus cuddle material. But remember, I'm the real deal.

You buried your face in the hoodie, taking a whiff of the top notes of his cologne on the fabric. It stung less.

Later, while cleaning the bathroom, you found a small sticky note taped to the mirror:

Look at that beautiful face. Even the toothpaste splatters can't detract from how beautiful you are. Smile for me, love.

You rolled your eyes, smiling, playfully blowing a kiss to yourself.

While grabbing a book from the bookshelf in the living room, yet another note floated to the floor.

I'm sure you've read this one a dozen times already, but did you know that I adore the way your eyes sparkle when you reach your favorite part? It's the sweetest thing.

That night, the sun fell below the horizon, and lights in the apartments shone golden. You curled up on the couch, at last giving in to a rom-com you knew Luke would roll his eyes over. But at the end credits, you missed his laughter, the teasing way he'd deride the plot.

And then, as you reached for the blanket, another note protruded.

Hi, if you're seeing one of those sappy movies when I'm not around, I hope you're recalling all the times I pretended that I didn't like them. Spoiler: I secretly love them if it's for the opportunity to watch them with you.

Your eyes watered with tears — not tears of sadness, but of the emotional warmth his words brought. Luke was not present in body, but his love was everywhere.

At bedtime, your phone buzzed with a FaceTime call. His face appeared on the screen, his smile wide even though he was obviously exhausted.

"Hey, love," he whispered.

"Hey," you replied, the warmth of his letters still coursing through you. "I've found all your letters. You're the sweetest, you know that?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, a flush climbing to his cheeks.

"I just wanted you to know that I was still here."

"You were," you replied. "You always are."

Later in the evening, after your phone call had concluded, you got back into bed. As you snuggled into the blankets, one final note poked out from beneath his pillow.

I miss you so very much. Any empty hotel bed makes me homesick, just to be under your arms in our home again. But that will happen. I love you, forevermore and always. Sweet dreams.

You held the note to your chest. Luke's love reached every nook ,the messages he wrote, the memories filling your home, and the reassurance that all too soon, he'd be where he should be. At home. With you.

[daniiiboo]

the right height- qh43

summary- Quinn loves giving you forehead kisses, here is five examples of that

trigger warnings- nothinn just pure fluff!!

dani's thoughts- i put the poll up and you guys wanted Quinn first so here we are !! I'm in love w this fic so enjoy <3 !! ALSO PLEASE REQUEST SOMETHING REQUESTS ARE OPEN !!

word count- 696

Quinn Hughes had a ritual, one that he didn't seem to be breaking anytime soon. It was simple, in fact. Wherever possible, he'd plant a kiss on your forehead, like he'd been doing it his whole life. At first, you suspected he hadn't even realized he was doing it. But eventually, you realized, Quinn knew exactly what he was doing, and he enjoyed it.

When He Leaves for Morning Skate You did not like waking up early, and Quinn knew it. While he was lacing up his shoes, getting ready to head out to the rink, you were still fast asleep in bed, slowly waking up.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with me?" he joked, standing by the bed, already dressed in his Canucks hoodie.

You groaned, your head in the pillow.

"Too early. I love you, but not quite enough to get out of this bed right now."

Quinn smiled, leaning down so that his face was inches from yours. "Fair enough," he whispered, then, he kissed you softly on the forehead.

You looked up at him, still struggling with your voice.

"You always do that."

"Yup," he grinned, squeezing your hip before standing fully up. "See you later, sleepyhead."

When You Complain About Being Short You were at the grocery store, trying to get a box of cereal from the top shelf, when Quinn appeared behind you and brought it down for you.

"You've got to be kidding me," you grumbled, placing your hands on your hips. "This is not fair."

Quinn chuckled.

"It's not my fault you're little."

You glared up at him.

"I am not tiny."

He simply hummed in amusement before leaning down and giving you a kiss on the forehead.

"Sure, whatever you say, short stack."

You rolled your eyes.

"Quinn!"

But he was already walking away, talking under his breath.

After a Tough Game You had waited for Quinn outside the locker room after a hard loss. He was exhausted, his hair still damp from a quick shower following the game, his face set in anger. Without saying a word, you spread your arms, and he hugged you instinctively, his face buried in your shoulder.

"You played great," you whispered, rubbing his back.

He let out a slow sigh, finally pulling back to look at you. His fingers brushed over your cheek before he dipped his head and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.

You smiled.

"Feel better?"

"A little," he admitted, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before sighing. "Mostly just glad you’re here."

When You’re Trying to Stay Mad at Him Quinn had eaten the last of your favorite snack, and while it wasn't the end of the world, you were dramatically pouting on the couch about it.

"I'll get you more," he said, sitting down next to you.

"You always say that," you sighed, crossing your arms.

Quinn simply smiled, leaning in closer.

"You're really upset with me, huh?"

"Yes."

He leaned in further, tilting your chin up a bit before delivering a kiss to your forehead.

You gasped roughly.

"That's cheating."

"Nah," he grinned. "Just strategy."

You complained.

"I hate you."

"You love me," he said, planting an extra kiss on your forehead for good measure.

And, well… he wasn't wrong.

When He Says "I Love You" You both were on the couch and it was evening, you resting on your head on Quinn's shoulder and you were watching a film. You felt like you were drifting off to sleep when Quinn quietly shifted so the blanket settled on you.

You breathed softly sleepily.

"You're comfy."

Quinn chuckled softly, his voice a whisper.

"You're warm."

A couple of beats went by before he leaned forward and kissed your forehead slow and long.

"I love you," he murmured against your skin.

Your lips curled up in a half-asleep smile as you wrapped your arms closer to his chest.

"Love you too, Q."

And, as always, his tendency continued. For even though all the times he made jokes about your height, Quinn Hughes would trade having you at just the right height for forehead smooches for everything in the world.

[daniiiboo]

one of those days - lh43

summary - you have had a terrible day, but luke is finally home to help you

trigger warnings - reader is tired, done w it all, and sad

dani's thoughts - i havent really wrote anything this deep for tumblr so smth newwww, but i am in LOVE with this fic sooo and yall love the luke so

word count - 990

It's been one of those days. The type where all you can do is yell into the abyss and hope that somebody will hear you. Yet all the abyss has done is reply with silence.

To start with, the alarm didn't ring and because of this, you fell behind on your morning meeting. And then, halfway to work, the car broke down and you waited for an hour for a tow truck, doing calculations in your head, and how much this was going to set you back. At the office, it didn't get any better. The email server was down, you couldn't access half your files, and your boss wasn't happy with your progress. It felt like everything was falling apart around you.

And the icing on the cake? Your phone died, and you knew Luke wouldn't be able to text you. You hadn't heard from him all day. It was a roadie for the New Jersey Devils, and you knew he was somewhere on the road, city to city, working long hours for the team. You felt the emptiness in your apartment without him. It was just you, your cluttered kitchen, and the pile of stuff you had to go through that seemed endless.

As the night drew in, you'd had enough. You sat defeated on the sofa and wondered why things will ever get any better. You stared blankly at the TV, not even interested at what was on, just wishing you had someone to talk to, someone who'd be there and make it all feel less overwhelming. You closed your eyes and attempted to imagine the comfort of Luke's presence, the way he'd always known how to make you feel better.

But then passed an hour. And another. And another. You hadn't heard from him. Your heart sank a little.

Just when you were about to lose all hope, immersing yourself deeper into the frustration of the day, you heard the familiar sound of keys jingling, unlocking your apartment door.

The thud of a bag got your heart racing.

You forced yourself to walk to the door, your feet dragging as if you were walking through molasses. And when you made it to the door, you saw Luke Hughes. His eyes, wide and bright, softened at the sight of you, your slumped posture, and the exhaustion mapped on your face. He had that look. a look that said I've missed you but also I'm here to make it better.

"Hey hey", he said gently, his voice full of warmth and concern. "How's my favorite person doing?"

You didn't answer immediately. Instead, you took a shaking breath and wiped a stray tear from your cheek that you hadn't even noticed had fallen. You weren't used to letting him see you like this exhausted, defeated version of yourself. But today was too much.

Luke's brow furrowed, and he reached for your hand.

“I’m here now. It’s all going to be okay, alright?”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"It’s just… it’s been one of those days. Everything is falling apart, Luke. And you’re out there on the road, doing your thing with the Devils, and I’m just here, trying to hold it all together.".

Luke's grasp on your hand tightened as he pulled you into a bear hug. Immediately, the heat from his arms sucked the stiffness out of your body.

"I know it's tough," he murmured into your hair. "But I'm here now. Let me get you through it."

He pulled away and gently tipped up your chin so that you were looking into his eyes.

"Tell me everything. What happened?"

You blinked, and took a trembling breath before you started telling him about the frustration of your day. About how your morning had spiralled out of control. About how you couldn't even find any peace in your own home. And about how, in the back of your mind, you felt the emptiness of him being away, even though he was out there doing his best for the team.

Luke didn't say a word, he was speechless, and his thumb caressed your hand. When you finished, he smiled a little.

"That's a lot to carry on your own," he said softly. "But you don't have to. And you're so much stronger than you think you are."

You weakly smiled, tired.

"Sometimes I don't feel very strong."

Luke shook his head, pulling you back and hugged you again, and his hands gently made contact on your back.

"You don't have to be strong every time. It's alright to have days when you need someone else to lean on."

His words hit a little harder than you expected, and you clung to him, the heaviness in your chest gradually lifting.

Now, after several minutes, Luke slowly pulled it out and smiled slyly. Just hold the date off for a little while.

You blinked at him confused.

"I ordered takeout," Luke said with a wink. "And. I have a surprise for you."

You lifted an eyebrow.

"A surprise?"

"Yes." He drew out a tiny bag that held inside it a small plush animal, a New Jersey Devil plushie, with a tiny little jersey on it that had Hughes on the back with his number.

Your heart melted.

"Luke, you're such a dork," you laughed, your mood already starting to lift.

He laughed, bumping into you in a playful manner.

"I know. But if it's going to make you smile, I'll keep being a dork.

After a comfortable evening of eating together, Luke stuck around. He offered to help you with all the chores that you had been avoiding, like sorting through emails, washing the dishes, or just sitting with you while you did the little things that had before seemed so overwhelming.

By the time you guys went to bed, your universe seemed slightly less overwhelming. You still needed to accomplish things tomorrow, but it wasn't as if the world rested on your shoulders now. Above everything else, you knew that even during bad days, you weren't entirely by yourself. Luke always returned to you, his presence, his touch, and his warm smile when you most needed him.

And with that, you could breathe again.

[daniiiboo]

new theme new me, new luke fic dropping in ten

[daniiiboo]

the one time I miss the game... HOLY COW THO 😍😍😍😍

Get you someone who supports you like Arber supports Slaf❤️