#luke hughes x plus size reader

[hockeyluvrr]

The Moment It All Began

au masterlist all other works

pairing: umich luke hughes x plus size oc

summary: the first meeting and everything after...let's just say, feelings are hard huh?

warnings: mild language, internalised fat-phobia, body image/insecurity, self-isolation, angst, self-esteem issues, unresolved tension that is eventually resolved, mutual pining, vulnerable moments, emotional vulnerability, body image issues, panic response

word count: 4,690

It started, like most disasters, with a favour.

“He’s not dumb,” Emily had insisted, propping her chin on her palm as they studied in the common area. “Just… distracted. And you’re the only one I know who can explain physics without making someone cry.”

Phoebe snorted. “So naturally you thought of me?”

“Come on. You’re good at this. You make that professor sound like a guy who actually knows what he’s talking about.” She nudged her. “It’s just one session. Two, tops.”

“Fine,” she sighed, like it wasn’t already a yes. “But he better not be an asshole.”

Emily grinned. “It’s Luke Hughes. He’s literally a golden retriever in human form.”

That should’ve been the first red flag.

———

He was ten minutes late. She was packing up her notes, already annoyed, when he stumbled into the library lounge with a lopsided smile and wind-tousled hair.

“Sorry—practice ran late.” He dropped his bag like it had personally offended him. “You’re Phoebe, right? Emily’s friend?”

“That’s me,” she said, folding her arms, trying to ignore the way he smelled like cold air and something expensive. “You’re lucky I’m patient.”

Luke grinned, sheepish. “I’ll owe you big. Physics is kicking my ass.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess—you missed the lecture on Newton’s Third Law because you were doing, like, a triple axel on ice or something?”

He blinked, then laughed, a full-body kind of laugh that startled her with how genuine it sounded.

“Not exactly, but close.”

It was just tutoring. A few sessions here and there. Explaining concepts like vectors and momentum and resistance, drawing diagrams in her notebook because he said it helped him to see it. He was a little scattered, sure, but not in the way she’d expected—he listened. Took notes. Asked questions. And he was funny, in a boyish, easy way. Always a little bit of a mess but never mean about it.

Which made it so much worse when she caught herself watching his hands one afternoon, pencil tapping thoughtfully against his bottom lip, and thought: God, his mouth is pretty.

The thought hit like a freight train. She blinked down at her notes, horrified.

No. Absolutely not.

She shoved the thought down hard and buried it under the safe, familiar weight of physics.

———

The sessions continued. Luke got better. She got worse.

Not at physics—never that. But worse at pretending she didn’t notice the little things.

Like the way he leaned in when he was confused, brow furrowed, lashes dark and long. Or how he laughed with his whole chest, loud and unfiltered. How he always offered to carry her bag, even when she told him not to. How he looked at her—not like she was invisible, or just another tutor-for-hire, but like he actually saw her.

And that terrified her.

Because somewhere along the line, she’d started looking forward to him. To the texts that said “u around? i have no clue what a free-body diagram is”, to the quiet walks back across campus after late-night study sessions, to the smell of cologne and coffee and cold air that followed him everywhere.

And once she’d noticed that? Everything started to unravel.

———

The breaking point was stupid.

A Thursday afternoon. Mid-March. The sky was heavy with the threat of snow, and the library was almost empty. They were hunched over her laptop, going over sample problems, when he stretched his arms above his head and said, “You know, you’re really good at this.”

She shrugged. “I like it. Explaining things helps me learn too.”

“No, I mean…” He sat back, tilting his head. “You’re smart. And you’re nice about it. Most people make me feel like an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” she said, too quickly.

He smiled at her then—soft, grateful. That smile that cracked something open inside her every time.

“I like hanging out with you.”

It was such a simple sentence. But it hit her like a punch to the chest.

She looked away. “Luke—”

“What?”

She didn’t finish the sentence. Just stood up too fast, heart hammering, stuffing her notebook into her backpack like it had personally betrayed her.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “I forgot I—I have a thing. I have to go.”

“Phoebe?” His voice was puzzled, concerned. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” she lied, already halfway to the door. “You didn’t.”

———

She didn’t cry until she was halfway home.

And when she did, it wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was the kind of quiet sobbing that felt like shame in motion—tears she didn’t want, for a truth she didn’t want to admit.

She liked him.

God, she liked him.

And how pathetic was that?

Luke Hughes: 6’2”, soft-eyed, NHL-bound, with a smile that could melt glaciers. She could already hear the voice in her head: Delusional much?

Because girls like her—soft and wide and invisible in the way society decided some bodies should be—didn’t end up with boys like that. No matter how sweet he was. No matter how many times he offered to buy her coffee or walked her home or laughed at her dumb jokes. That was just Luke being Luke.

And she—she was ridiculous for thinking it meant something.

She curled up on her bed, stared at the ceiling, and hated herself a little for hoping.

———

She avoided him for four days.

No texts. No library sessions. No walking paths that cut across the hockey facility. When she saw his name light up her phone.

Luke: hey, everything okay?

She didn’t answer.

Because she didn’t know how to explain that she wasn’t mad at him. She was mad at herself. For slipping. For letting him get too close. For thinking—hoping—that maybe she could be the exception to the rule.

By Sunday, Emily cornered her in the hallway outside their dorm.

“You ghosted him.”

She looked away. “I’ve been busy.”

Emily crossed her arms. “He asked if he did something wrong. He looked like a kicked puppy.”

Don’t say that, she wanted to snap. Don’t make him sound sweet when I’m trying to erase him.

Instead, she muttered, “He didn’t. It’s fine.”

“Then tell him that,” Emily said, gentler now. “He’s not a mind reader.”

The thing was—she wanted to. She missed him. Missed his voice, and the way he chewed his lip when he was stuck on a question, and the way his laugh made her stomach flip even when she hated herself for it. But she also knew that if she let him back in, the feelings would follow. And if he didn’t return them—if she caught a flicker of pity in his eyes—it would ruin her.

Hope was a dangerous thing. She’d spent most of her life learning how to live without it.

———

Tuesday night, he caught her.

Literally—rounded the corner outside the library and nearly walked straight into her.

“Oh shit—Phoebe?”

She froze. Too late to run. And honestly, she didn’t have the energy to pretend.

“Hey.”

Luke blinked, then gave her a cautious smile. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she lied. “Just busy.”

“Right.” He shifted his weight, awkward. “You, uh… weren’t answering my texts.”

Her stomach twisted.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

A pause. She could feel him watching her—really watching, like he was trying to piece together a puzzle with half the pieces missing.

“Did I do something?” he asked finally, voice quiet.

“No,” she said, then forced herself to meet his eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath. “Okay. Good. I just—I wasn’t sure. You kinda vanished.”

“I know,” she said again. Her fingers curled around the strap of her backpack. “I just needed some space.”

He nodded slowly, and something about the way he stepped back—gave her that space—made her heart ache even more.

“Well,” he said, voice lighter now, “if you ever wanna go over the review packet, I, uh… I still don’t know what the hell potential energy is.”

She almost smiled. Almost.

“I’ll think about it.”

———

She didn’t mean to let him back in. But a few days later, she found herself at their usual table, notes spread out, laptop open, when he dropped into the seat beside her like no time had passed.

No questions. No guilt. Just his usual grin and a half-empty smoothie in hand.

“You’re a lifesaver,” he said, sliding the packet over. “You’re gonna keep me from flunking.”

“God forbid you be academically ineligible,” she teased, grateful for the normalcy. “Then who would they use in every single recruiting post?”

“Exactly,” he said with mock-seriousness. “You’d be letting down the entire future of hockey.”

She rolled her eyes, but her throat felt tight.

Because he was still here. Still looking at her like she mattered.

And she still didn’t know why.

————

It happened again the next week.

They were sitting in the back corner of Bert’s Cafe, rainy afternoon light bleeding through the windows, and Luke was chewing on the sleeve of his hoodie while she tried to explain electric fields for the third time.

“Okay,” she said, tapping the diagram on his tablet. “Think of it like gravity. But instead of mass, it’s charge. Opposites attract, remember?”

“So like… if I’m positive, and you’re negative—”

She gave him a look. “You calling me negative?”

He grinned. “You said it, not me.”

She shook her head, biting back a smile—and that’s when he said it.

“You’re cute when you’re frustrated.”

The words landed with a thud in her chest. She went still.

“What?”

Luke blinked. “What?”

“You said—” Her voice caught. “Never mind.”

But he was watching her now, head tilted, brow creased. “Did that make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” she said too quickly. Then again, softer, “No. It’s fine.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else. But the moment passed. And she was already pulling the conversation back toward electric fields and potential difference and the safety of things that didn’t make her want to cry.

———

Later that night, alone in her room, she stood in front of the mirror and tried to understand what he saw.

She wasn’t soft in the way magazines liked. She wasn’t curvy in the way Instagram liked. She had thick arms, a round belly, wide hips that pulled at the seams of her jeans. Her thighs rubbed holes in leggings by week two. She knew what people like her were called. Knew the names muttered under breath in middle school, the backhanded compliments, the jokes.

And Luke—he was tall and golden and seen. He existed in a world she’d only ever watched from the outside.

So why would he look at her like that?

She squeezed her eyes shut. Swallowed down the guilt of even asking the question.

It didn’t matter. He didn’t mean it. It was just a throwaway comment. A stupid flirt without weight. A joke.

It had to be.

Because the alternative—that he saw her, wanted her—was something she didn’t know how to live with.

———

The physics midterm came and went, and Luke passed—with a B+, no less.

He texted her the second he got the grade.

Luke: ur a genius. my saviour. my queen. how do i repay u

Phoebe: one coffee and maybe a sticker that says “I’m smarter than a hockey player”

Ten minutes later, he showed up at her dorm with two lattes and a pack of glitter star stickers.

“Put one on your forehead,” he said, grinning. “It’s only fair.”

She did. She didn’t even hesitate.

———

After that, the tutoring faded into something else.

They still studied. But now he invited her to late-night diner runs. Walks after class. Study breaks where he begged her to explain memes he didn’t get or tried to teach her how to flick a mini hockey puck across a table using only a spoon.

It wasn’t tutoring anymore.

But it also wasn’t anything else.

Sometimes, she caught him looking at her when he didn’t think she’d notice. And it wasn’t like the way people looked when they were comparing sizes or judging or assessing.

It was soft. Focused.

And God, did that mess her up.

Because she wanted to believe it meant something. Wanted to let herself fall the rest of the way. But the voice in her head always pulled her back.

Don’t be stupid. Don’t embarrass yourself.

She couldn’t afford to lose him. And wanting more? Wanting him?

That was a risk she didn’t think she could take.

———

One night, late April, they found themselves sitting on the grass outside his apartment building after a study session. The air was warm and smelled like budding leaves and cheap beer from a nearby frat house. Luke had his hoodie pulled halfway over his head, eyes squinting up at the sky.

“You ever think about how dumb stars are?” he said suddenly.

She laughed. “What?”

“They’re just… balls of gas. But people write poetry about them and make wishes and shit.”

“That’s not dumb,” she said, pulling her knees to her chest. “It’s kind of beautiful. That people want to believe in something that far away.”

He turned to look at her. “You believe in stuff like that?”

She hesitated. “I want to.”

Luke was quiet for a second. “I think I do. Believe in that stuff.”

She looked over, and he was still watching her. Really watching her. Like he could see right past all the things she tried to hide behind sarcasm and notes and perfectly rehearsed explanations of Coulomb’s Law.

“Do you ever wish for anything?” she asked before she could stop herself.

His eyes dropped to her mouth, just for a second.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I do.”

The silence stretched. The air went still. She could feel the pull between them like gravity—heavy, inescapable, terrifying.

She turned away before he could see the hope in her eyes.

———

After that night, everything felt different. Closer. Louder.

He texted more. Sat closer. Let his leg press against hers and didn’t move away. He played with her pen during study sessions, let his fingers brush hers when he handed her his notebook. All little things. All nothing, probably. But to her, they felt like cracks in the dam.

And still—she didn’t say anything.

Because what if she was wrong?

What if this was just how Luke Hughes was with everyone? Warm. Open. Easy to fall for. And what if she confessed and ruined it? Lost him entirely?

She would rather take the ache than the silence of a goodbye.

———

The day it nearly all came crashing down, it was raining.

Not just drizzling—pouring. She’d left class without an umbrella, already soaked by the time she made it to the library steps.

Luke was there.

Waiting.

He was holding an extra hoodie and a coffee, like he’d known exactly how her day would go.

“Jesus,” she said, breathless. “Are you psychic now?”

He grinned. “I knew you’d forget your jacket.”

He draped the hoodie over her shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was warm and smelled like him—mint and soap and something woodsy she couldn’t name.

She stared at him. Something in her chest cracked.

“Why are you so nice to me?” she asked quietly, almost too quiet to hear over the rain.

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… you don’t have to do this. Bring me coffee. Wait in the rain. Let me steal your hoodie. Why do you—” She broke off. Her throat was thick with it. “Why do you treat me like I’m—special?”

Luke was quiet for a long time.

And then, softly, he said, “Because you are.”

It felt like the world stopped spinning. Just for a second.

She stepped back. Shook her head.

“No,” she said, too fast. “Don’t—don’t say that. You don’t have to lie.”

“I’m not lying.” His brows knit, confused. “Why would I—?”

“Because I know how this works,” she snapped, voice sharp with hurt. “I’ve seen the girls you hang out with, Luke. I know what people expect you to want.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about me!” she said, voice breaking. “Look at me. I’m not—God, I’m not the girl guys like you fall for.”

Silence.

Luke looked at her like she’d said something impossible. Like she’d just told him gravity wasn’t real.

“That’s bullshit,” he said, voice low.

Her breath caught.

“You think I don’t see you?” he continued. “You think I don’t notice the way you light up when you explain something? Or how you make everything easier just by being around?”

She shook her head. “Don’t—”

“I’m not playing with you,” he said. “I don’t do that. Not with you.”

She stared at him, rain clinging to her lashes, hoodie soaked through. Her heart beat so loud she thought it might split her ribs.

“I don’t get it,” she whispered. “Why me?”

His voice cracked, just a little.

“Because you make me feel like I’m more than some dumb hockey player. Because I like you. I’ve liked you.”

The words were soft. Real. Terrifying.

She didn’t say anything.

Couldn’t.

Because if she opened her mouth, she might say I like you too—and she wasn’t ready for what came next.

So she turned.

And she ran.

———

She didn’t sleep that night.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Luke’s face—wet hair stuck to his forehead, eyes wide and confused and hurt. Heard his voice: Because I like you. I’ve liked you.

She pressed her palms over her ears like it would make it all go away.

It didn’t.

————

The next morning, Emily was already in their room, curled up with a blanket and laptop, when she stumbled in.

“You look like you fought God,” Emily said around a spoonful of yogurt.

She dropped onto the bed. “I ran away from Luke.”

Emily blinked. “What?”

“I mean literally ran.” She stared at the ceiling, voice hollow. “He told me he liked me. And I panicked and left him standing in the rain like a goddamn rom-com cliché.”

Emily’s spoon hovered in midair. “Wait—he said he likes you? Like, actually said it?”

She nodded.

“And you ran.”

Another nod.

“Okay. First of all, what the fuck, and second of all—WHAT THE FUCK.”

She groaned, pulling a pillow over her face.

Emily yanked it off. “Phoebe. I love you, but what the hell were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t!” she snapped, sitting up. “I was—scared. I am scared.”

Emily’s face softened. “Hey. I get that. But you’ve been pining over him for months. And now he says he likes you back and you think what—he’s lying?”

“Not lying,” she mumbled. “Just… confused.”

Emily narrowed her eyes. “You really think someone like Luke Hughes confuses liking someone with what? Friendship? Pity?”

She didn’t answer. Because that was exactly what she’d thought.

Emily sighed. “You know, just because you’ve been told you’re not the kind of girl someone could want doesn’t mean it’s true.”

She didn’t respond.

Because some truths lived too deep to root out in one morning.

———

She didn’t hear from Luke the rest of that day. Or the next.

He didn’t show up to their usual study spot. Didn’t text. Didn’t like her dumb meme about Schrödinger’s cat. His silence hurt more than anything else he could’ve said.

But she didn’t blame him.

Because she knew what it was like to reach out and get burned.

She’d just never imagined she’d be the one holding the match.

———

By Thursday, the guilt was eating her alive. So she did what she always did when she needed to think: she went to the library.

Their table was empty.

Her heart sank.

She sat down anyway, pulled out her notes, and tried to pretend she wasn’t scanning the door every five minutes.

And then—like her thoughts had summoned him—Luke walked in.

He looked tired. Not angry. Not even sad. Just… guarded.

She stood the second she saw him.

“Hey.”

He hesitated, then gave a small nod. “Hey.”

They stood there, books and silence between them, until she couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m sorry,” she said, voice shaking. “I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean to run like that.”

Luke didn’t say anything.

She tried again.

“I panicked. It’s not because I don’t—” She swallowed. “It’s not because I didn’t want to hear what you said.”

He looked at her then. “Then why?”

God, she didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want to lay herself bare like this. But he deserved the truth. Even if it came out ugly.

“Because I don’t understand why you’d like me,” she said, voice cracking. “I don’t look like the girls you’re supposed to want. I’m not skinny or pretty or—whatever.”

He stared at her like she’d slapped him.

“That’s what you think this is about?” he asked, low.

She blinked.

“Jesus, Phoebe.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You think I care what other people expect me to want?”

“You’re you,” she whispered. “And I’m just—me.”

He stepped closer. Not touching. Just enough to make her feel it.

“You’re not ‘just’ anything.”

She looked away. “You don’t get it.”

“No,” he said. “But I want to.”

A pause. He softened.

“Let me get it.”

She blinked fast. “I don’t want to be someone you regret.”

Luke’s jaw clenched. “I could never regret you.”

The words sat heavy between them.

He looked at her for a long moment, then said quietly, “I’m not going to push you. But I meant what I said. I like you. And not in some passing ‘oh she’s cute’ way. I like the way your brain works. The way you ramble when you’re trying not to smile. The way you take care of people even when you’re breaking.”

She pressed a hand to her mouth, tears stinging behind her eyes.

“I don’t want this if it’s going to hurt you,” he added. “But if it’s just fear holding you back—please don’t let it win.”

Her heart cracked open.

“Luke…”

“I’ll wait,” he said gently. “Just tell me there’s a chance.”

She looked up at him. Really looked. Saw the honesty, the warmth, the hope he hadn’t let go of—even when she’d tried to push him away.

And for the first time, she let herself believe it.

“Okay,” she whispered. “There’s a chance.”

Luke’s shoulders dropped, like he’d been holding his breath this whole time.

“Okay,” he echoed, soft and sure.

————

They didn’t kiss that day.

He didn’t pull her into his arms or say anything grand or cinematic.

But he did sit beside her, closer than usual, and opened his notebook.

And when their hands brushed, neither of them pulled away.

—————

They didn’t define it right away.

There was no official we’re dating talk, no grand proclamations. But after that afternoon in the library, everything shifted.

Luke texted her good morning now.

He walked her to class, even when it was out of his way.

When they studied, he let his thigh press against hers like it belonged there. Sometimes he brought snacks. Sometimes she brought extra pens because he always lost his. He started saying things like missed you today or this song reminded me of you or you looked really pretty earlier, just so you know, and he said it so easily—so genuinely—that eventually, she stopped flinching when he did.

Eventually, she started believing him.

The voice in her head—the one that told her she wasn’t enough—still lingered. Some days it shouted. But when Luke looked at her like she hung constellations, it was easier to quiet it. Easier to say, Maybe he sees something I don’t. Maybe that’s okay.

————

One night in early May, he texted her.

Luke: come outside

She blinked at the message.

Phoebe: ??? it’s almost midnight

Luke: and? bring a hoodie. trust me.

She found him standing outside her dorm, hair tousled, smile soft, hoodie sleeves pushed halfway up his arms. He had a blanket tucked under one arm and two milkshakes in hand.

“You kidnapping me?” she teased.

“Nah,” he said. “Just stealing you for a bit.”

He took her to a hill just outside campus—secluded, grassy, high enough to see the city lights blur in the distance. It was quiet. Private.

He spread out the blanket. Handed her the chocolate shake. Sat so close their shoulders touched.

“Remember that dumb thing I said about stars?” he asked after a while.

She smiled. “That they’re just gas but people still write poetry about them?”

“Yeah.” He looked up. “I get it now.”

She tilted her head. “Yeah?”

Luke turned to her, and his expression made her heart stop. So open. So gentle. Like she was the only thing he saw.

“Some things are beautiful because of what they make you feel,” he said quietly. “Even if they don’t make sense. Even if they’re far away or hard to reach.”

She swallowed. “Are we still talking about stars?”

“No,” he said, soft. “We’re not.”

Silence fell again—but this time, it wasn’t heavy. It was full. Buzzing. A calm before something that felt like lightning.

Luke leaned in, slow and careful.

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away.

When he kissed her, it was gentle. No fireworks or fanfare. Just warm, steady lips and the feeling of finally, finally, landing somewhere safe.

Her fingers curled into the sleeve of his hoodie. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing just beneath her eye. He pulled back just enough to look at her.

“You okay?” he whispered.

She nodded, heart pounding.

“Yeah,” she said. “More than okay.”

He smiled. Pressed another kiss to her temple like he’d been waiting forever to do it.

————

After that, there were words.

He started calling her his girl.

Introduced her to his teammates—who, shockingly, didn’t bat an eye. If anything, they seemed happy to see Luke looking so settled. (One of them winked at her and said, “Thank God. He’s been unbearable. You’re doing God’s work.”)

Luke held her hand in public. Let her wear his hoodie even when he pretended to pout about it. Texted her things like thinking about you during team meetings and wanna come over and watch dumb sci-fi movies so I can pretend to understand physics.

He never made her feel small.

Never made her feel like he was hiding her, or settling, or choosing her in spite of something.

He just chose her. Over and over again.

And that did something to her.

Something healing.

————

Finals came and went in a blur of caffeine and highlighters and three a.m. breakdowns. She helped him study. He brought her snacks. 

On the last day of the semester, after they submitted their final lab report, he took her hand and said, “I think this is the first time I’ve ever liked physics.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Even after all the crying over projectile motion?”

He grinned. “Especially after that. You looked cute when you yelled at me about parabolas.”

She shoved him lightly, but she was smiling.

————

The night before she left for home, he showed up at her door with takeout and a bouquet of wildflowers.

She blinked at them.

“You know this is such a rom-com move , right?” she said.

Luke just shrugged. “You deserve rom-com shit.”

He kissed her like he meant it. Like they had all the time in the world. And when he whispered, “I’m gonna miss you like hell,” against her collarbone, she knew this wasn’t a temporary thing.

They’d figure out the summer.

Figure out everything else, too.

————

A week later, she got a text.

Luke: my mom wants to meet you. she already stalked your Instagram. she thinks you’re cute.

She laughed so hard she nearly dropped her phone.

And for the first time, that voice in her head—the one that told her she’d never be enough—didn’t say a thing.

Because maybe she was.

Maybe she always had been.

[voicemailfromluke-beep]

chipotle drama

req: yes | 💬 hi i was wondering if i can request the current boyfriend trend on tiktok with luke hughes?

pair: luke hughes x f!reader ; luke hughes x mid/plus-size!reader

genre: fluff, humor, soft domestic vibes, social media challenge.

warnings: extreme boyfriend energy, light teasing, mentions of surgery recovery, gentle body mentions (reader is mid-plus size and loved deeply), spoon-feeding cuteness.

summary: luke’s been begging to appear on your tiktok. when he finally gets the chance, you use it to prank him with the ‘current boyfriend’ trend, only to discover his dramatic side is no match for how serious he is about you. and your chipotle date turns into the sweetest reminder that you’re absolutely stuck with this man (and maybe a few little future hughes babies too).

🍅’s note: i’m loving this idea cause i can definitely see luke being so offended by it like the moment he hears you say he’s your ‘current,’ his jaw dropped. hand on his chest like he’s personally wounded. he’s spiraling a little bit. might need a hug. or five.

📮 chublets yap

you didn’t think it’d be that easy to mess with luke. but then again, your boyfriend was the most dramatic, emotionally soft 6’2” golden retriever on the planet. so when he asked for the tenth time in two weeks.

“babe, when are you gonna let me be in a tiktok?” and you knew exactly what to do.

camera was propped up. your chipotle bowls were ready. luke was like a golden retriever who thought he was going for a car ride.

“okay,” you said, checking your reflection in the phone screen one last time.

“let’s do this.”

“i look good, right?” luke asked, fluffing his curls.

“always,” you said, and he smiled like a kid.

“okay. i’m hitting record.”

you pressed the button and sat up straighter. luke leaned toward you, all excited and glowing with boyfriend energy.

“hey, guys,” you said to the camera.

“so i’m here today, as promised… trying my current boyfriend’s favorite chipotle order.”

luke blinked. like the word in his brain is in slow motion.

you didn’t even look at him yet. you were already working hard not to laugh.

“for those of you who are new here, this is my current boyfriend, luke hughes.”

you reached over to gently pat his arm in the sling.

“lukey, say hi.”

he smiled, kind of. but it was hesitant. “hi…”

you saw it in his face. the moment he realized what you were doing.

“…wait. current boyfriend?”

“yeah,” you said sweetly.

“my current boyfriend is obsessed with chipotle, so i have to try his order.”

he furrowed his brows. “what do you mean current?”

“as in—like, my boyfriend right now.”

he squinted. “right now? like temporarily?”

“what are you talking about?” you teased, fighting a smile.

“current sounds like i’ve got a replacement waiting in the hallway,” luke muttered, picking up a chip with his free hand.

you grinned wider. “well. i do have a list.”

his head whipped toward you.

“what list?”

you shrugged, totally calm. “just, you know… backup options.”

he gasped, clutching his chest. “you’re actually evil.”

“you wanted to be in a tiktok.”

“not at the expense of my relationship security,” he deadpanned.

you giggled, scooping a spoonful of rice and steak from his bowl.

“he’s being dramatic. as you can see, my current boyfriend just had surgery, so i have to help him eat.”

“i can feed myself.”

“no you can’t.”

“yes i can,” he said, popping the chip into his mouth.

you leaned in, pressed the spoon to his lips anyway. he accepted it, grudgingly, but still hungry.

“you’re lucky this tastes good.”

“and you’re lucky i love my current boyfriend,” you shot back, mimicking his tone.

luke stared at you for a second.

you scooped another bite and fed him again, watching his face scrunch slightly like he was trying to piece something together.

then, in the softest voice imaginable, he asked.

“babe… are you mad at me?”

you dropped the spoon. “what?!”

“i dunno.” he tilted his head.

“you’re calling me your current boyfriend like you’re about to break up with me after this bowl.”

“luke.”

he looked genuinely concerned. “did i do something?”

you softened immediately. “no. you’re literally perfect.”

“then why current? i don’t want to be your current. i want to be your always.”

you blinked. your heart melted. puddled. fully dissolved into mush.

“…you are,” you whispered.

he reached for your hand with his good one, eyes wide and honest.

“i’m your boyfriend, okay? your only boyfriend. and i’m gonna be your future husband. and the father of our future kids. just saying.”

you stared at him. “you’re really hitting me with the marriage and babies speech over chipotle.”

he nodded, completely serious.

“i need it on record.”

“okay, lukey. future husband. father of our hangry children. got it.”

“okay, okay, it’s a tiktok trend. relax.”

you leaned over and kissed his cheek. he blushed instantly, his ears turning pink like they always did when you got mushy in front of other people (even if the only audience was your phone screen).

“you’re forgiven,” you whispered.

“was i in trouble?”

you grinned. “you thought you were.”

he huffed, reaching for a napkin. “just saying, i’m gonna prank you back for this.”

you laughed, turning to the camera. “he won’t.”

“i will. and it’s gonna be emotional. like, tears-on-camera level stuff.”

you fed him another bite. “you’re literally incapable of being mean.”

“i’ll find a way,” he mumbled, mouth full of rice.

you ended the video there, but the moment didn’t stop.

after you turned off the camera, you both stayed perched on the stools, finishing your food. luke, as usual, kept glancing at you like he was in love for the first time.

you nudged his leg with your knee. “you okay?”

“mhm.”

“you sure?”

he nodded. then, casually, “so… did you mean it?”

you looked up. “mean what?”

“that i’m just your current boyfriend,” he said, his voice teasing, but his eyes soft.

you set your bowl down and leaned into him.

“no,” you whispered. “you’re my only boyfriend. my forever one.”

he smiled so wide it crinkled his nose.

“good. because i already texted my mom that we’re naming our first baby after your grandma.”

“you what?”

he winked. “just saying. future father things.”

you giggled, then wrapped your arms around his waist carefully so you didn’t bump his sling. he held you tighter, resting his chin on your head.

“my current boyfriend would never do this,” you whispered into his hoodie.

“you’re never living that phrase down.”

“maybe i’ll use it again,” you teased.

“in our wedding vows.”

“then i’ll cry. on stage. in front of everyone.”

you smiled, closing your eyes, soaking in the warmth of your big, soft hockey boyfriend who was absolutely, undeniably, not temporary.

and honestly?

you were fine with being stuck with him forever.

[fiastomatocheek]

THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PERSON I’VE EVER LOVED

requested: yes | req: hello! i’m sorry to hear you got shadow banned on your original account, i hope that gets resolved soon! could i please request something w luke hughes where reader overhears someone (a wag or a player) comment on her looks/say luke could do better and she starts pulling away which rlly hurts luke until he finds out what was said? maybe like a mid/plus size reader if you’re comfortable with that. no worries if not or if you’re not feeling the request!

pair: luke hughes x f!reader, luke hughes x mid/plus size!reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, romance, insecurity, fluff (slow burn).

warnings: body image insecurities, rude comment from a side character, emotional hurt/withdrawal, soft confrontation, plus-size reader (no specific physical descriptors), lots of comforting dialogue, luke being the softest human alive.

summary: dating luke has been a dream, until one overheard comment from someone in his circle chips away at your confidence. you try to brush it off, but it sticks. you start pulling back, shorter kisses, less eye contact, fewer sleepovers. luke feels it. he doesn’t understand why the warm, confident person he fell for has grown so quiet. until he finds out the truth.

fia’s note: this one’s for all my mid/plus-size lukey girls out there, just a little reminder that no matter what you look like, you’re always beautiful and unique in your own way. the best thing you can be is yourself, and the most important thing is doing what makes you feel good. loving yourself? that’s the prettiest thing in the world!! enjoy this new luke fic!! love you all!! xxx

tagging team fia ! — @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @dancerbailey3 @mashmashi @hopefulsuitcasemoneyzonk @kell9rs @alwaysclassyeagle @nokiaholland @macka @smiley-roos

“Hey, you almost ready?”

He’s leaning against the doorframe of your apartment, his tall, lanky frame filling the space, navy blazer hugging his shoulders just right.

“We’re gonna be late if you keep fussing with that dress.”

You glance at him through the mirror, your hands pausing on the hem of the deep green dress you picked out last week. But tonight, the confidence you usually carry feels fragile. The team dinner means being surrounded by Luke’s teammates and their partners, a crowd that sometimes feels like it belongs to a different world.

“Almost,” you say, forcing a smile as you smooth the fabric over your hips.

“Just… making sure I don’t look like a total mess.”

Luke steps into the room, his sneakers scuffing lightly on the hardwood. He slides his arms around your waist from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder, his warmth grounding you.

“You? A mess? Impossible.”

He presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck, his voice dropping to a murmur.

“Gosh, you look incredible. Like, steal-the-show incredible.”

Your heart flutters, but the knot of nerves in your stomach doesn’t loosen.

“You’re biased,” you tease, turning in his arms to face him. His hands stay on your hips.

“Nah, I’m just honest.”

He grins, that lopsided smile that always makes you feel a little lighter.

“Seriously, you’re gonna be the best-looking person there. I’m gonna have to fight off my teammates to keep them from staring.”

You roll your eyes, but his words wrap around you like a warm blanket, easing the tension for a moment.

“Okay, smooth talker. Let’s go before Jack texts you again about being late. You know ‘7 o’clock means 7 o’clock Luke.’”

He laughs, grabbing your hand as you head out the door, his fingers intertwining with yours.

“Jack’s just jealous he doesn’t have a date as cool as mine.”

The Devils have reserved a private room, Luke’s hand rests lightly on your lower back as he guides you through the crowd. He introduces you to a few new faces, a rookie defenseman, a coach’s assistant and you smile, nod, and try to keep up with the small talk. But you can’t shake the feeling of being watched, like some of the WAGs are sizing you up, their perfectly manicured hands and sleek dresses making you hyper-aware of every inch of yourself.

You’re seated at a long table, Luke on your left, his teammate Nico across from you, and Nico’s girlfriend, a willowy blonde named you don’t even remember, next to him. The conversation was all about hockey talk, upcoming games, some light ribbing about Luke’s obsession with his pre-game playlist. You laugh along, sipping your wine, starting to relax. Luke’s hand finds yours under the table, his thumb brushing your knuckles, and you hold onto that small gesture like a lifeline.

“I’m gonna hit the restroom,”

You say after a while, squeezing Luke’s hand before standing. He nods, his eyes lingering on you with that soft, adoring look he always has when he thinks you’re not paying attention.

You’re about to push open the bathroom door when you hear voices around the corner, two women, their tones gossipy, like they’re sharing a secret they don’t expect anyone to overhear.

“Luke’s girlfriend? Honestly, I don’t get it,”

One of them says, her voice dripping with judgment. You freeze, your hand hovering over the door handle, your heart plummeting.

“She’s… I mean, she’s nice, I guess, but she’s not exactly his type, is she? He could do so much better. Have you seen the girls who hang around the team? He’s got options, a lots of options.”

The other woman laughs, a low, conspiratorial sound that makes your stomach churn.

“Yeah, I know. She’s a little… big for him, don’t you think? He’s so cute, and she’s just… there. Like, come on, Luke Hughes could have anyone.”

Your breath catches, and you press a hand to your chest, like you can physically stop the pain from spreading. The words hit like a slap, eachone slicing into the confidence you’ve spent years building. You’ve always known you don’t look like the typical WAGs, petite, polished, like they stepped out of a magazine. You’re curvy, real, with hips and thighs that don’t fit into sample-size dresses. Most days, you love that about yourself. Luke’s never made you feel anything less than beautiful. But now, standing alone, their words feel like truth, like a mirror reflecting every insecurity you’ve ever buried.

You stay in the bathroom longer than you need to, letting the cold water calm the heat in your cheeks. When you finally return to the table, your smile is practiced, brittle. Luke notices immediately his had this concern looks, his hand finding yours under the table again.

“You okay?”

He whispers, leaning close so only you can hear. His voice is soft, but there’s an edge of worry in it.

“Yeah, I’m fine” you lie, squeezing his hand.

He doesn’t push, but his thumb keeps tracing those small circles on your palm, a quiet reassurance. You hold onto it, but the rest of the night, you’re only half there, you catch glimpses of the WAGs across the table, their perfect hair and effortless confidence, and you wonder if they all think the same thing, if everyone in this room is wondering why Luke’s with you.

After that day, that event, you don’t mean to pull away, not really, but the hurt festers like a bruise you can’t stop pressing. You start making excuses to avoid Luke’s invitations. When he asks you to come to his game against the Rangers, you tell him you have a work deadline. When he suggests a movie night at his place, you claim a headache. Your texts become shorter, your phone calls less frequent. You hate how distant you feel, but everytime you think about being close to him, those women’s voices creep back in, that you’re not enough.

Luke feels it too. He’s not the type to demand answers or push you into talking, he’s too gentle for that, too patient. But you see the hurt in his eyes when you brush off his attempts to hang out. He tries to keep things light, sending you goofy texts about his teammates or silly memes to make you laugh, but you can tell he’s confused.

You want to tell him. You want to spill everything, to let him hold you and make it better like he always does. But the fear of being vulnerable, of admitting how deeply those words cut, keeps you silent. What if he agrees with them? What if, deep down, he knows he could ‘do better’?

The thought is irrational, you know Luke loves you but it’s enough to keep you locked in your own head, pulling further away.

It comes to a head two weeks later, on a rainy evening. When there’s a knock at the door, you open it to find Luke standing there. He’s holding a takeout bag from your favorite Thai place, but his expression is anything but casual like he’s been carrying a weight he can’t hold anymore.

“Hey,” he says, his voice soft but firm.

“Can I come in?”

You nod, stepping aside to let him in. He sets the takeout bag on your counter, but he doesn’t move to unpack it. Instead, he turns to you, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Okay, what’s going on?”

He asks, and there’s a quiet intensity in his voice that makes your chest ache.

“You’ve been… distant. For weeks now. You barely answer my texts, you’re never around, and I feel like I’m losing you. Did I do something? Because I’m freaking out here, babe and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Luke’s always been the steady one, the one who holds things together when you’re falling apart. Seeing him like this makes you feel worse. You shake your head, turning to the counter to fiddle with the takeout bag, anything to avoid his eyes.

“You didn’t do anything, Luke. I’ve just been… busy.”

“Busy?” He steps closer, his voice rising slightly, not in anger but in frustration.

“Don’t do that. Don’t give me that excuse. You’ve been avoiding me, and I deserve to know why. If you don’t want to be with me anymore, just say it. I can handle it. But I can’t handle this… this nothing.”

His words hit like a punch, and you spin around, your own emotions bubbling over.

“It’s not about not wanting to be with you!” you snap, your voice shaking.

“It’s about me not knowing if I’m enough for you!”

He blinks, caught off guard. “Babe. What… What are you talking about?”

You take a deep breath.

“At the team dinner, I overheard some of the WAGs talking. They said… they said you could do better than me. That I’m not your type. That I’m too… big.”

The last word comes out small, like it’s burning your throat to say it.

“And it’s been eating at me eversince. Because maybe they’re right, Luke. Maybe I don’t fit in your world. You’re this hockey star, and I’m just… me.”

Luke’s face falls, his eyes widening like you’ve just shattered something inside him.

“What?” he breathes, stepping closer. “Who said that? Who the hell said that about you?”

“It doesn’t matter who,” you say, your voice trembling as tears prick at your eyes.

“The point is, they said it, and it’s been stuck in my head. I’ve spent my whole life feeling like I’m too much or not enough. Too big, too loud, too… whatever. And I thought I was past it. I thought I was okay with myself. But hearing that? It made me feel like I’m not good enough for you. Like everyone in that room sees it, and maybe you will too, one day.”

Luke’s jaw tightens, and for a second, you think he’s angry at you, at the situation, you’re not sure. But then he steps even closer, his hands reaching for your, his touch so gentle.

“Look at me,” he says, his voice low and fierce.

“Those people? They don’t know us. They don’t know you. And they sure as hell don’t get to decide what we are.”

You shake your head, tears spilling over now.

“It’s not just them, Luke. It’s me. I keep thinking, what if you wake up one day and realize you could have someone who looks like those girls? Someone who fits in better with your world? Someone who doesn’t have to deal with this… this constant battle to feel okay in their own skin?”

Luke’s hands slide to your face, cupping your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears.

“Hey, hey listen to me,”

“I don’t want someone else. I want you. I love how you cheer louder than anyone at my games, even when I’m having a terrible night. I love how you make me feel like I’m more than just a hockey player. You’re not just ‘enough’ you’re everything to me, my everything.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, warm and overwhelming, but the doubt still lingers, a stubborn shadow.

“Luke, I—”

“No, I’m not done,” he interrupts, his voice cracking with emotion.

“I hate that you heard that. I hate that you’ve been carrying this alone for weeks. I hate that I didn’t notice how much you were hurting. I should’ve seen it. But I’m here now, and I’m telling you, I love every single thing about you. Your smile, your curves, your heart, everything. And anyone who says otherwise is full of shit.”

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch despite the storm in your chest.

“I want to believe you, but it’s hard. I’ve spent so long fighting to feel okay with myself, and those words… they brought it all back.”

“I know,” he says, pulling you into a hug.

His arms wrap around you, and you let yourself sink into him, your cheek pressed against his chest, it’s so familiar, so safe, that it makes your throat tighten again.

“I know it’s hard. But I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. And I’m gonna keep telling you how much I love you until you believe it. And if I hear anyone talking like that, I’m shutting it down. No one gets to say that about my girl, not while I’m around.”

You manage a small laugh, wiping at your cheeks.

“You can’t fight everyone, Luke.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his green eyes fierce but soft around the edges.

“Watch me,” he says, a grin tugging at his lips, but there’s a fire in his gaze that tells you he means it.

“I’d take on the whole damn team for you.”

You shake your head, but you’re smiling now, the first real smile you’ve felt in days.

“Okay, fine. But no starting fights at team dinners. I don’t need you getting benched because of me.”

“Deal,”

He says, his grin widening. He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle.

“Now, can we eat this Thai food before it gets cold? Because I’m starving, and I’m not eating without you.”

You nod, the knot in your chest loosening for the first time in weeks. “Yeah, let’s eat.”

Move to the couch, the takeout spread out on your coffee table, and Luke sits close, his knee brushing yours as he hands you a container of pad Thai. You eat in comfortable silence at first, but as you pick at your food, you realize there’s more you need to say.

“Luke,”

You start, setting your fork down. He looks up, his mouth full, and you can’t help but smile at how ridiculous he looks, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.

“I’m sorry I pulled away. I didn’t want to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

He swallows, his expression softening.

“I get it,” he says. “I just wish you’d told me sooner. I was starting to think I did something wrong, like I messed this up somehow.”

He pauses, looking down at his hands.

“I’m not perfect, you know? I get insecure too. I keep thinking I’m not good enough for you either like, you’re so smart and funny and put-together, and I’m just this awkward hockey kid who trips over his own feet half the time.”

“Luke, you’re not just some hockey kid. You’re… you. You’re kind and thoughtful and way more than just a player. You make me feel like I’m enough, even when I don’t believe it myself.”

He reaches for your hand, his fingers lacing through yours.

“And you make me feel like I’m enough, too. So maybe we’re both a little messed up, but we’re good together, right?”

“Yeah,” you say, squeezing his hand.

“We’re good together.”

He smiles, that lopsided grin that makes your heart skip, and pulls you closer, tucking you against his side.

“Okay, then. No more shutting eachother out. If you’re hurting, you tell me. If I’m being an idiot, you tell me. Deal?”

“Deal,” you say, resting your head on his shoulder.

[letsyapthenightaway]

could we please have all the guys reaction to the - "Somebody point me to the best ass eater" trend please lovely? x

This is going to be weak because I think most of them wouldn't participate but let me imagine.

Luke Hughes- if you are holding the phone he's shaking his head with a smile and pushing it out of his face. If you are doing the little dance that goes with the trend he'd react the same way but walk away.

Jack Hughes- ... he's iffy for me. I think it would be depending on his mood. He'd either go "No" and shut it down real quick or he's going all in. I mean all in! Laughing while doing the head shake thing and tongue out.

Quinn Hughes- I can't picture Quinn anywhere near this trend. I have a feeling he ran away before you could get to him.

Matt Rempe- I think he'd laugh, do the trend for like 3 seconds, get embarrassed and pull away instantly regretting it. I can picture him laughing with a slight blush and doing that little thing he does when he's nervous. Like running his hand through his hair and hand on his hip.

Connor Bedard- He's standing there with the most awkward smile but when he hears the lyrics he's going "What?" With wide eyes and an awkward laugh.

[paladin--strait]

#5 with luke hughes 🫶🫶

the distance between us - luke hughes

in which luke is in need to comfort.

-

"i miss you."

the three words that he speaks make me crumble, the barely noticeable tremble in his tone, then the silence right after. "i miss you too, luke...more than you know."

i hear a shuffling on his end, like he's getting in the bed or something. a sniff, then silence. "luke..?" i whisper.

"yeah?"

"i know that this...this is a hard time for you. since jack and quinn are both hurt and now jacks in denver...but i can come up there and be with you, if you want me too?" i say, hoping my words come off as reassuring instead of insensitive.

there's silence on his end, then he speaks. "i'll be okay." i know his words don't mean to come off as mean, his voice unsure. "but if you want to come, you can."

and that's the only thing i need to hear before i set down my phone, putting it on speaker and opening my laptop. i purchase tickets that are a few hours from now, giving me just enough time to pack. "i'll be there tomorrow, about 3am at the airport."

i hear a now reassured sigh, like a breath of relief. "okay, i'll meet you there."

"luke, you stay home and get some rest. i'll use my spare key to let myself in." i say, shutting off my laptop and getting up, bringing the phone with me to grab my suitcase out of the closet.

"won't matter, i'll be too happy to see you to sleep." he laughs softly. "are you packing?" he asks. i can only assume he heard the zipper of the suitcase.

"yeah, my flight leaves in about three hours so..." i trail off, throwing clothes and toiletries in the suitcase. "and i still haven't eaten dinner. i'll probably just eat on the flight, the website said a meal or snacks would be included." he hums, then more shuffling. "it'll be a few hours, you should get some sleep."

"i'll set my alarm so i can come pick you up." his words make me smile, and i zip up the suitcase. i grab my bigger purse, throwing in some essentials like a portable charger, earbuds, and few more things. "sweetheart?" he whispers.

"yes?"

"please be careful."

"i will, i love you..." i sit on my bed, rubbing my tired eyes.

"i love you too. text me when you board."

"alright, i'll see you soon." i smile softly, ending the call. i sigh, rubbing my temple. i change into clothes that are suitable for the plane, but comfy enough for me to sleep in.

-

the flight lands, and i get a text from luke telling me that he's already got my suitcase and he's waiting at the luggage claim for me.

i can hardly contain my excitement for seeing luke, despite the situation he's in, especially when i see the familiar bunches of soft curls that poke out of his hat. he's faced away from me, looking around. "luke...!" i call out, practically running to him.

he turns, eyes wide as he opens his arms, dropping my suitcase handle to catch me. my carry-on hits the floor beside it, my arms wrapping around his neck. he breathes in, his face tucked into my hair. his arms are tight around me, like he's afraid of losing me.

after what feels like forever, he pulls back to look at me. his eyes are tired and sunken in, glassy with unshed tears. i can almost feel his sadness, the loneliness radiating off of him. a pang of guilt tears through me, guilt that i haven't come to him sooner.

i cup his cheeks, looking up at him. "oh luke..." my voice trembles, "let's go home." i whisper, watching him nod in agreement. we grab my bags, and walk to his car. the ride back to his apartment is silent, but it's not uncomfortable.

the car halts to a stop in the apartment complex's parking garage, a sigh leaving his lips. he takes my hand, my suitcase in the other, leading me to the apartment. it seems so empty without jack and his happy-go-lucky personality, his laugh usually echoing throughout the apartment.

i frown, immediately noticing his absence. the multiple vases of half dead get well soon flowers litter the apartment. the room is very clean, like luke has been trying to figure out ways to busy himself since jacks absence. i look over at luke, who's looking down at the floor.

"i'm sure he misses you too, luke..." i whisper, my eyes watering at the sight of my sweet boy, who's normally so happy and excited, so lonely and upset.

there's silence from him, only the shaking of his shoulders. sniffles leave him and a single tear that falls from his cheek hits the floor, then another, and another. i pull him into my arms quickly, feeling his body shake. tears leave not only his eyes, but mine too. his hat hits the floor as he places his face into my hair.

after what seems like hours of tears, i can tell luke is starting to calm down a bit. it's like he's been holding in his emotions, trying to hide them. i lead him back to his room, my luggage sat at the entrance of the apartment. we don't even bother to change, immediately getting into his bed. the sheets are still a little warm.

he grabs me, pulling me as close to him as possible. his hands grip the soft fabric of my hoodie, his face tucked into my neck. i play with his curls softly, a hum leaving his lips. i can tell he's tired, the tension in his body slowly slipping away. "i love you, luke..." i whisper softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

with the distance between us now closed, there's a strange sense of almost comfort, a feeling that the both of us have each other with no worries. we both sleep soundly in each others arms, content with just being in each others presence.

[tastytoxicwaste]

Call me a hypocrite or whateva, but if I see a plus size reader fic, I'm reading it.

But seriously, gorgeous writing, and it was super cute.

welcome back | luke hughes

summary: when someone insults you at the devil's welcome-back party, luke doesn't take it lightly.

warnings: rude comments about weight, pretty much straight-up bullying, a stranger being a complete dickwad, swearing, making-out

wc: 1.3k+

Luke absolutely adored you. In his eyes, you hung the moon and painted every last star. That’s why he often got distraught and confused when people felt the need to comment about your appearance. Now, it was very clear that you were bigger than the typical girl, but it just made Luke love you that much more. 

The ceiling was littered with glittering lights, and the walls were covered in black and red decor. The annual welcome-back party was in full swing, couples and players alike mingling in every corner of the large room. 

It was quite obvious that the Devil’s organization spared no expense in planning this event. It was grand, to say the least. A highly sought-after DJ stood at his booth in the center of the room, playing any song imaginable. Yet, you were too enamored with the brunette in front of you. 

Luke was dressed in a sleek black suit with a jacket perfectly tailored to cling to the hard muscles on his arms, displaying them with any slight movement. His white dress shirt was slightly unbuttoned as the room got hotter. Luke’s tie had been ditched within the first five minutes of arriving, as he claimed it was “choking him.” You could barely tear your eyes away, even for a moment. However, the feeling was very much mutual. With the dress you had on, Luke was practically drooling all over the table. 

You wore the very dress that could make Luke fall to his knees. The material hugged every curve of your body in the most flattering way. Luke could have sworn he fell in love with you all over again the second you walked out of your apartment. Anyone in the room could see the love swimming in waves around the both of you.

You quietly talked amongst yourselves, at least until Jack and Nico made their way to your table. The conversation quickly changed to the upcoming opener, the boys eager to start the season. Only half-listening, you noticed the food being restocked. You figured Luke was probably starving since the two of you had spent almost all day getting ready. 

You lightly gripped the arm that rested next to you, gaining his attention. “I’m gonna go make us some plates.” You nodded towards the freshly made food. He agreed immediately, solidifying your previous assumption. You stood, placing a gentle kiss on the top of Luke’s head as you made your way to the buffet.

You grabbed two pearly white plates, setting them in front of you as you began to put all of Luke’s favorites onto his plate. You piled as much as the porcelain could handle, then proceeded to fill your own. You balanced the two plates, getting ready to walk away when a male voice sounded from beside you. 

“Two plates, seriously?” You turned towards the rough voice, clearly confused as to what you thought you heard. 

“Excuse me?” You replied, a slight edge to your voice. 

“I mean, c’mon, you obviously don’t need that much food. Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you, but you fill out that dress a bit too much already. It wouldn’t hurt to cut back on the carbs.” 

Shock flooded your body, causing you to freeze. There was absolutely no way a complete stranger just said that to you, let alone to your face. The shock was quickly replaced with anger. You set the plates down, careful not to spill Luke’s food. 

“Apparently, I’m doing just fine if you felt the need to stare at me for that long.” You crossed your arms, biting the side of your mouth in an attempt to control your irritation. 

“It’s kind of hard to miss you. You’re one of the biggest girls in the room.” Your anger dissipated, shame rushing to take its place. You felt your cheeks and ears begin to burn with embarrassment.

Normally, comments like this didn’t bother you, but something about the look in this guy’s eyes made you feel a brand new form of humiliation.

“What the fuck did you just say to my girlfriend?” The sound of a voice you couldn’t be more happy to hear echoed from behind you. Luke came to stand beside you, slightly putting his body in front of yours. 

Luke’s jaw ticked with rage. His eyes were dark, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this angry. Not even on the ice. The guy’s eyes widened, noticeably in fear and… excitement? 

“Oh my, you’re Luke Hughes! I’ve been trying to find you all night! I wanted to see if you would be interested in coming on my podcast next week?” The stranger's audacity caught you by surprise.

 Luke’s fists tightened, glaringly angry. 

“Are you serious right now?” Luke’s voice was harsh, “You just openly insulted my girlfriend, then you have the audacity to ask me to come on your podcast?” The stranger’s eye drifted to you, then back to Luke.

“She’s your girlfriend? I heard you had one, but never would I have guessed she would look like that.” 

Crack! 

The sound of Luke’s fist colliding with the guy's face was all you could hear. The room went silent, all eyes on Luke’s visibly enraged body towering over the guy clutching his nose on the ground. 

“I swear to God, if you ever come near me or my girlfriend again, you’ll fucking regret it.” Luke grabbed your hand, leading you past your table where he quickly snatched up your belongings. He whispered something to Jack and Nico, to which they responded with understanding nods. He continued to lead you through the large building until you reached the parking garage. 

Luke had yet to say a single word, the tension in the air became suffocating.

He remained silent the rest of the way to the car, helping you into the passenger side. Once he was in the car, he let out a deep sigh, gripping the steering wheel. 

“I’m so sorry, baby” His voice came out barely above a whisper. You looked over, noticing his eyes tightly shut. 

You shook your head, “Sorry for what? Nothing that happened in there was your fault.” He turned his head towards you, opening his deep eyes to meet yours. Conflict fought battles within his orbs, causing you to reach over and cradle his face. “Lukey, listen to me. I’m okay, you’re okay, we’re okay. He was just some jackass that isn’t happy with his life so he felt the need to take it out on me.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows, “I don’t get it. You’re the one who got insulted, yet you’re comforting me. It’s supposed to be the other way around.” You smiled, leaning to place a soft kiss on his nose.

“I’m just used to it, I guess. I have tough skin.” Luke frowned at this. 

“You shouldn’t be used to it, y/n.” He reached to hold your hands in his, “You’re so fucking beautiful, I just don’t understand how anyone could say those things about you. You don’t deserve any of it.” 

Overwhelmed by his statement, you couldn’t do anything but press your lips against his. He kissed back immediately, pulling you as close as the car would allow. The kiss was desperate and needy, expressing every emotion you both were feeling. Your hands gripped at the curls on his neck, causing a low groan to escape his throat. 

You pulled away, leaving both of you with heaving chests as you attempted to catch your breath. “Thank you for defending me, Lukey.” 

“I’ll always defend you, angel.” He looked deeply into your eyes, before leaning back to turn on the car, “But now it’s time to go get as much food as we can stuff down our throats.” You laughed at his antics. 

This boy was gonna be the death of you.

[captain-huggy-bear]

The Sleeves

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Short Fem!Reader

Warnings: Quinn thinking you're hot af, so slightly mature in that sense but nothing extreme.

Summary: Jersey sleeves are just a little too long for you.

Notes: Reader is described as short but not a specific height. I, a short person, could be wrong here, but I assume the taller you are the longer your arms are hense the height focus in this fic. Also it's a 43 Hughes jersey not Quinn's own one because we're all different sizes and I don't want anyone to be unable to imagine it, y'know????

Had this idea cause my Jack Jersey has super long sleeves and it makes me feel safe and silly (I'm getting a Quinn jersey for X-mas from my brother and i'm very excited)

It's baffling actually, when you really think about it, that you'd been dating a pro-Hockey player for nearly 8 months and hadn't owned a single jersey until now. Sure, Quinn had tried to convince you to just borrow one of his, his desire to see you in his jersey practically an obsession, but half the time they were sweat stained and stinky and you kind of just wanted one designed for you and your body. So you'd gone to his games in just your normal clothes, sometimes you wore the stupid t-shirt Jack and Luke got you with Quinn's face on it for your birthday, but you'd never worn a hockey jersey.

This had seemed a shame and you'd decided enough was enough. You went to all Quinn's home games and tried to go to as many away games as possible, you thought that surely you should, as a dutiful girlfriend wear a #43 jersey. It felt wrong, somehow, not to have at least one, to wear one at least once.

So you'd bought one, taken your time considering which version to get, which size you preferred. You hadn't told Quinn because any time you wanted to buy something for yourself he always did it for you, claiming he had more money than he knew what to do with. As sweet as it was, sometimes you wanted to spend your own hard earned money. Plus, you'd wanted it to be a surprise. It was practically on his bucket list at this point, it felt like something...big.

So you'd kept it quiet, bought a #43 Hughes black skate jersey in a size just this side of too big, oversized for the comfort factor. What you hadn't anticipated was how you felt wearing it...or Quinn's reaction.

It was just fabric, just a jersey but the moment you slipped it on you felt...safe. The fabric was soft against your skin, not tight or claustrophobic and the sleeves...oh the sleeves were your favourite part. You were short, that was a fact of life, you hadn't grown upwards since you were 14 and you'd made your peace with it. Didn't really have a choice, given that you spent all your time around hockey players. Some of whom were absolute giants, Meyers came straight to mind. Quinn was considered a smaller player in the business and even he made you feel short. Being short, had the effect though of making the sleeves of your jersey gigantic.

You couldn't really describe the sheer joy you felt when the sleeves went past your fingertips absolutely swallowing your hands. You felt like a little kid again, you felt comfy, and safe. Maybe it was scratching some sort of anxiety itch in your brain or maybe it was that you'd missed this feeling from when you were a kid, the feeling of being so so small that everything else felt giant, but you loved it either way.

Your plan was to hide the jersey until Quinn's next game, ready to surprise him when he looked for you during warmups, ready for him to realise you were finally wearing his name and number. Something he'd been not so subtly pushing for months every single time he conveniently left a jersey out next to your game day clothes before he left for the rink.

The moment he left for the game after a goodbye kiss and some I love yous, you'd put the jersey he'd left on the bed away (no matter how many times he washed it it still had the lingering smell of hockey...) and reached into the back of the wardrobe, underneath a series of boxes and miscellaneous items, for your own. You'd hidden it well, so far back, it was actually a struggling to get to.

You'd slipped it on over your jumper and layers, letting the sleeves fall over your fingertips. That familiar safe, giddy feeling filling you as you twirled in a circle in front of the mirror before dropping your shoulders, closing your eyes and just enjoying it. There was something about the physical sensation that was enjoyable, the way it felt, the sense of comfort it brought, but it went past that. It felt good to look in the mirror and see Quinn's number on your arms, across your back, his surname plastered in the large font. It felt good to wear a reminder of him.

You opened your eyes after a few moments of flapping the long sleeves about, a childish joy in the flap of fabric. Your sight snagging in the mirror on the doorframe behind you, Quinn leaning a shoulder against it, kit bag at his feet. He had softest smile on his face, the sort of smile that made his eyes crinkle gently and had his teeth poking out just so.

You spin around to face him startled, not expecting him to be back. Your fingers meeting and twisting together, hidden beneath the lengths of sleeve fabric.

"Did you...did you forget something?"

It's obvious to him that you're trying to avoid the elephant in the room, the surprise he's clearly ruined. It's not his jersey, but it is and it's all he's wanted to see you in for months now...Fuck, you look good in his jersey. You've brought it in a size that's just the right sort of oversized, swallowing familiar curves under layers of black, yellow and red fabric. How you make something that hides every part of you look so good he doesn't really understand, but he thinks that maybe that just says more about how he feels about you than anything else.

Your hands are invisible, swallowed by fabric and his name and number across your back were practically searerd into his retina. A memory pressed into the pages of his mind. It's stupid, possessive, ridiculous, caveman-ish but, fuck, he likes that you're saying you're his, likes that everyone can see it. That it's his name across your back.

"My number looks good on you..." Quinn bites down on his bottom lip, tilts his head to the side as his eyes trail over you. The way he's looking at you, you'd think you were stood there naked, not swallowed in fabric. It makes your cheeks warm.

"Quinn..." You let out and embarrassed whine, hands coming up to cover your face as he trails his way closer, feet padding softly across the carpet. His gear forgotten in the doorway, the sense of urgency to get the last piece he forgot and get to the rink, gone. Game? What game?

You feel his presence first, feet stopping close to your own, his form towering over you as he wraps his hands gently around your wrists and tugs them free from your face. He's practically grinning at you, that one strand of brunet hair falling across his brow as he leans down towards you.

"The sleeves too, you look cute in it, fuck..." He tugs on the ends of the sleeves, examining the way your hands are swallowed by the fabric. The cute wiggle of them from underneath before being swallowed whole.

"This for me, pretty girl?"

You nod, feeling oddly shy in front of him as his eyes keep following your form like he can't quiet get enough. It's surreal, you've had boyfriends who didn't even look at you like that when you were dolled to the nines, you're just in a jersey, some ordinary clothes, everything covered, nothing special, "...It was supposed to be a surprise...for tonight."

"Ah," he fills in the blanks. He's ruined it by coming back unexpectedly, because he forgot his stupid mouthguard of all things. He imagines it though, being on the ice, looking for you like he always does, his eyes gravitating towards you like he's stuck in your orbit. He can see the way you'd look in the lights of the rink, his number proudly displayed. Could see the way he'd probably stop dead on the ice, probably get a bunch of shit from the guys, can see Petey shoving him with a laugh, but he'd not care at all because you're finally wearing his jersey and he's been waiting for this for months.

"Can you, uh, never take it off?" he laughs, tugging you closer, arms wrapping around you as his fingers trail across the letters making up his name on the back. Memorising the feel of it, his name on you, finally.

"Quinn..."

"What? You look...fuck, you look so good in my jersey, baby, like...unreal..." He means it and you know he means it because he's got that sparkle in his eyes that screams his feelings out loud without a single word.

"...you have a game to get to.." you mumble, face pressing into his chest, trying to hide from him because only Quinn can make you quite this bashful after this length of time together. Only Quinn can seemingly disarm you completely.

He presses a kiss to the top of your hair, cheek pushing against the crown of your head as he rocks you side to side.

"Mmm, you're not gonna take this off, right? You're still going to wear it to the game for me, baby?" There's a little slither of fear that he might have embarrassed you, that you'll hide the jersey away somewhere and he'll never see you in it again.

"...Yeah, i'll still wear it for you..."

He thinks this might just be what he wants for the rest of his life. You in his jersey, you with his name across your back, you...with the name you might one day share proudly taking up space for everyone to see.

In that moment, he realises, he's a complete fucking goner for you. He's well and truly fucked in the best sort of way.

[laceyhearts]

౨ৎ THE HOODIE ; LUKE HUGHES

➪ summary: she'd always thought she wasn't pretty enough for luke, but that all changes with an invitation to the hughes' lake house and luke's hoodie

➪ pairing: luke hughes x fem!mid-size/plus-size!reader

➪ warnings: reader is insecure, uhhh i think that's it? not proofread (what's changed)

➪ word count: 3.6k

➪ emma's notes: the first fic back 😛 PSA: this is not to shame any of my mid-size or plus-size readers, especially because i am one, this is personally just my experience with how i’ve gone through my journey with insecurities and whatnot. be proud of your body, but it’s okay if it gets a little hard at times 🫶🏻 this is one of my favorite fics i've ever written so of course it was the first one i rewrote. speaking of that, i rewrote this fic HEAVILY so if it seems like a totally different fic, it basically is! thank you guys for understanding the blog switch, and i hope to see you all in the future <3

© laceyhearts ; do not copy, repost, translate, or put my work through ai generators. do not copy or remake my themes, graphics, or layouts.

It didn’t matter how many times she walked into a room, how many times she twirled her hair as a distraction, how many times she broke the ice; everyone’s eyes defaulted to the obvious - her stomach, her cheeks, her thighs, her hips. 

It felt like once you looked a certain way, a way that made you conventionally not attractive to the male gaze due to your size, it was the only thing people noticed about you. It didn’t matter if you could make people laugh with the simplest of jokes, didn’t matter if you could copy a landscape perfectly with a set of paint and a canvas, didn’t matter if you could look at a problem and solve it within 10 seconds, it was the fact that you were “curvy”, “on the heavier side”, “full-figured” - or whatever way society wanted to skirt around saying overweight to make it seem like they didn’t want to offend you. 

And maybe it started in high school when she sat down, and the chair creaked, causing everyone to snicker softly. Maybe it started in middle school when she couldn’t run the mile in the “desirable” amount of time. Maybe it started in elementary school when other parents would ask her parents in a worried tone about her physique. 

Or maybe it started in her head.

She couldn’t tell you when the insecurities started, somewhere between losing her child-like innocence that allowed her just to be and health class when they talked about which foods you should be eating and how you should stay within a certain weight limit.

But she could tell you when they lessened, when she stopped obsessing over them the moment she woke up until the moment she went to bed, when she threw on an outfit and went out with her friends without so much as a second thought. 

The whispers of high school hallways when she accidentally brushed up against someone, the whispers in stores when she’d pick out a small bag of cookies because she’d been eating like she was supposed to that week, were left behind once she left for college. 

It was a new start, new people, new experiences that would allow her to feel comfortable in her own body, get away from the negativity that was her hometown, filled with people straight from a teen romance movie. 

It happened fast, meeting Luke, in a way that she could tell you every little detail of the moment. The color of his shirt (dark blue, yellow Michigan written across it), the shoes he was wearing (black gym shoes), how his fingers twitched when his hand brushed hers as he picked up her book from the concrete beneath their feet. 

Unbeknownst to her, he could tell her every detail too, the exact day it happened (September 3, 2021, 6 days before his birthday and 27 days before hers), the pattern on her socks (white with black polka dots because they were the only ones she could find that morning), the book she was reading (Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix), how she tucked her hair behind her ear.

And ever since then, they’ve been best friends, attached at the hip. She went to his games, he went to bother her during her shift at the dining hall. She went to his place to watch their show, he went to hers to get her help with homework. She made him soup when he was sick, he bought her soup when she was sick. She stayed up late to call him after an away game, he woke up early to send her a “good morning” text before she woke up. 

For a moment, she didn’t think about how she looked, didn’t notice the way people looked at them with a curiosity-filled gaze, didn’t hear the laughs behind her back when she walked by. It was like being with Luke helped her block out all the noise, like she could be herself around him. 

⎯⎯⎯ ౨ৎ ⎯⎯⎯

She hadn’t expected him to ask her to the lake house, not in the slightest. Her decision was hesitant; she wasn’t sure if she could spend a week or two with Luke, his brothers, and his friends in shorts and tank tops, things that made her uncomfortable even in her own room. Yet, if she didn’t, she wasn’t sure she could take the wrath of Luke’s constant text messages that would leave her to give in anyway.

So there she stood, in the airport, waiting for any sign of Luke as her thoughts raced. It’d been a while since she’d last seen the boy, almost 6 months since she hugged him goodbye at the Newark airport and left for Michigan for the start of a new semester.

Her leggings hugged her tightly, pressing against her stomach just enough to leave indents of the seams. Her sweater hung loosely on her, a size or two too big to cover the width of her hips, creating the beads of sweat that dripped down her back. 

It didn’t take long for her to find him, towering over almost everyone else surrounding him. He spotted her, too, his lips subconsciously turning upwards into the grin that could make her melt more than the summer sun could. 

Luke’s eyes did a once-over, scanning her from head to toe, eyebrow raising, “Aren’t you hot?”

She hesitated for a second before shaking her head, “No. I run cold.”

“Right… and that’s why I used to have to turn the fan on every time you stayed at mine because you complained you were too hot.”

“Shut up, I was nervous I’d get cold on the plane.”

“Mhm, sure, y/n/n. Sure.”

He grabbed her bag, slinging it over his shoulder and reaching for her hand as if they’d done this multiple times before, like it was natural.

The walk to the car wasn’t long, but with the sun beating down on her, it felt like every step she took lasted 5 minutes. And without even asking, Luke turned the AC on full blast, knowing damn well that if she lasted another minute without cold air on her, she’d pass out.

⎯⎯⎯ ౨ৎ ⎯⎯⎯

They pulled up to the house not long after, Luke grabbing her bag from the backseat before opening her door, leading her up the steps, and into the lake house, shutting the front door with his foot. He didn’t even blink an eye as he shot his hand out, easily catching the football that was being hurled at the two of them. 

Y/n stood, slightly awestruck and shocked, blinking slowly as she turned to face the culprit who threw the ball, only to find a sheepish-looking boy, no more than 3 years older than her, with slightly shaggy brown hair and a resemblance to her best friend. 

“Heads up?”

“She’s here for two seconds and you’re already trying to kill her.” Quinn walked in only a few steps behind, smacking him upside the head, “Nice to meet you, y/n. I’m Quinn, that’s Jack.”

“Yeah, I uh- kind of got that. I mean- Luke always says you’re the calm one, so I just assumed- Yeah, I’m not much of a talker…” She trailed off, cheeks heating up from embarrassment instead of the heat for once.

The three boys just smiled at her, trying not to fluster her more than she already was. 

“Trevor and Cole are around here somewhere, but don’t pay too much attention to them, I try not to. I’ll take you to your room and then… I actually don’t know what we’re doing tonight.”

“Boat,” Jack replied simply, grabbing a water from the fridge, all but chugging it, and leaving the half-empty bottle on the counter. 

“That settles it, then.”

Luke led her to her room, placing her bags on top of her bed, “Here you are, m’lady. You can nap, shower, get settled, whatever you want. I’ll come get you when we’re about to go.”

Y/n nodded, slight panic flashing in her eyes as she turned to start unpacking, hoping he didn’t notice her change in demeanor. 

⎯⎯⎯ ౨ৎ ⎯⎯⎯

It was two hours before she saw anyone again, and in those two hours, all she had done was lay out her outfit choices and try them on over and over again until she determined she didn’t bring any good outfits with her on this trip. 

Finally, a few minutes before she knew Luke would knock on the door, she settled on a pair of light-washed jean shorts that were long enough to pass as “classy” but short enough to draw people’s gaze to her thighs, and her oversized dark blue UMich hockey shirt Luke had gotten for her a while back, the lettering fading due to the number of times she’d put it through the wash.

She’d just begun braiding the right side of her hair, her left already done in a simple 3-strand braid and a few pieces pulled out to frame her face as always, when she heard the knock, Luke opening it after he heard no protest. 

“Hey, you ready to-” He froze, eyes trailing over her frame, unsure where to look.

Y/n flushed, her hands itching to drop the hair they held and wrap her arms around her waist to avoid his gaze. She focused her attention on the task at hand, trying not to glance up at him through the mirror, trying not to envision the disgust written across his face.

“What?”

Her voice snapped him out of his trance, eyes finally finding hers, a small smile spreading across his lips, “You look…”

Her mind instantly spiraled, maybe I shouldn’t have come, maybe I should change into leggings, maybe I should-

“Pretty.”

Huh? She blinked a few times. “What?”

“I said you looked pretty.”

“Oh.” She didn’t say much else, securing her braid with a small hair tie as she reached to grab her bag, no doubt filled with her favorite book and her Kindle, just in case she ended up locking herself in her room the next two weeks.

“You're seriously bringing your Kindle? Aren’t you gonna go in the water?”

She followed him out of her room, closing the door behind her after slipping her gym shoes on. “I hate the water.”

“You hate the water?”

“I- yeah, it’s fine. I’ll just read, you guys can swim, cannonball, whatever you guys do.”

“Y/n/n, we can do something else if you don’t want to go out on the boat. We don’t have to do what they do.” His voice softened, stopping in the hallway, a few feet shy of where everyone was waiting in the living room. 

She couldn’t help but feel butterflies erupt in her stomach; the thought of him changing his plans just because she was uncomfortable with the thought of being around water - even if it was for a different reason than what she said - was enough to have her swooning. It was something small, something that many people wouldn’t bat an eye too, but to her? It meant more than she could explain. 

Her fingers laced with his, gaining courage to brush her lips against his cheek, “I appreciate it, Lukey, but I swear it’s fine. I just don’t want to go in.”

A faint blush covered his face at her action, but he played it off and nodded, “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

⎯⎯⎯ ౨ৎ ⎯⎯⎯

Time flew by on the boat, y/n reading her book, eyes occasionally looking up to see one of the boys jump into the lake, or to see them splashing around in the water like immature middle school boys, or just in time to see Luke walk by before plopping down next to her, his arm finding its way to rest behind her.

As the fun increased, the temperature decreased, and the breeze left goosebumps on her arms. She didn’t notice it at first, or tried not to let it show, nose buried in the pages, too interested in the same plot she’d read thousands of times before.

But after a while, a few rays of sunlight were all that was left of the day that passed, the cold finally settling around them, y/n shivering more than she was mere minutes ago. She closed her book, unable to continue to make out the black ink across the pages, opting for her Kindle instead. 

That was all it took for Luke to realize how cold she felt, her hand brushing against the skin of his arm where his sleeves were rolled up, her hand somehow even colder than the wind blowing through the air. He pulled his sweatshirt off with ease, handing it to her without another thought, “Here.”

She looked between his face and the fabric in his hand, weariness settling in her mind as she shook her head, “I’m okay.”

His eyebrows knitted together, head nodding to her arms, “You have goosebumps, I think that qualifies as being ‘not okay’.”

“I like the breeze, it’s nice.”

“Y/n/n, please.”

She relented, setting her Kindle beside her, taking the hoodie into her hands as she looked at its size inconspicuously. She never thought about fitting into other people’s clothes as an option, she knew she wouldn’t, they knew she wouldn’t, so why would she ever think that she would need to? 

Luke was taller than her, as he would like to say “by a mile”, something she was acutely aware of since the moment she met him. Something that she never really thought would be her saving grace until now. Because hopefully, the several inches he had on her was enough to counteract her own body.

She slipped it on, arm after arm, pulling it over her head, baseball cap being pulled into the hood. He watched as she fixed it, tugging on the front of it to create more space between the fabric and her skin. He frowned slightly. “Is it uncomfortable?”

Y/n shook her head, because it wasn’t uncomfortable, she was. It was baggier than she thought it would be, not as much as she would’ve liked it to be, but just enough to become one of her favorite hoodies she’s ever worn, and no, that was not because it was Luke’s.

“You sure? I can always ask Quinn or Jack for theirs-”

“Luke, it’s perfect.”

He just nodded, slightly skeptical at the look on her face and the way she kept tugging lightly on the hoodie like it was suffocating her. She avoided his gaze, trying to memorize the lines on the boat floor through the last bits of light on the horizon. 

“Y/n/n, can you please just tell me what’s wrong? If it’s not the hoodie, then-”

“Fine, it’s the hoodie!” She raised her voice just slightly to get her point across, but not enough to attract the attention of the others.

“Is it the fabric? Is it itchy? Is it-”

“It’s the size, Luke!”

He frowned, still confused, “It looks fine.”

“That’s-” She sighed, playing with the frayed edges on her shorts, “That’s not the point, Luke.”

“Then what is the point, because I’m struggling to see it.”

“I’ve never been the skinniest girl out there, Lu.”

And that got him to pause, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to gather his thoughts, unable to form any coherent ones, because to him? She’s always been the prettiest girl he’s seen. Always been the one who his mind defaulted to when his brothers asked if any girls caught his eye. Always been the one he described when someone asked him who his type was.

“Y/n…”

“It’s okay, Luke. I’m not trying to hide from it or anything.”

“I know you’re not, but you didn’t let me finish.” He slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her into his lap as if it were a common day occurrence. 

Her eyes widened, her body stiffening as her legs straddled his, trying to shift her weight off of him. But Luke, being Luke, his hands tightened around her hips, anchoring her in place and giving her a smug look, daring to challenge him.

“Let me go.”

“No.” His voice was stern as he spoke. 

“Please, Lu.” 

“I’m not letting you go until you see yourself how I see you. I am not letting you go until those negative thoughts are expelled from that beautiful head of yours.

“Listen, y/n/n. I know it’s hard, believe me, I’ve dealt with my fair share of insecurities myself, and I know it can’t be exactly what you’re going through, but… my point is the same. You are the most gorgeous person I have ever met, and I love every single part of you there is to love, okay? I cannot tell you a moment that I have thought you were ugly.”

Her mind barely registered the “I love” portion of his speech, already trying to find a moment to prove him wrong, “What about that time when-”

“Nope, doesn’t exist.”

“Oh! How about when you showed up, announced-”

“No.”

“That time-”

“No.”

“Fine, what about-”

“You can keep trying to grasp at straws there, pretty girl, and my answer is still going to be the same.”

She flushed at the nickname, finally relaxing into his hold, but her thoughts were still stuck on a negative loop, “Why?”

“Why, what, beautiful?”

“Me. Why me?”

“You wanna know my favorite memory of you?” 

She nodded hesitantly, eyes finding his.

He removed one of his arms from her waist, wrapping his fingers around the back of her neck and rubbing his thumb against her cheek before continuing, “Freshman year. First game you ever went to. I had just bought you your first-ever Michigan hockey shirt and used a Sharpie to write my name and my number on the back. It wasn’t the prettiest thing in the world, couldn’t hold a candle to you, but it made sure everyone knew you were there for me.

“You wore it with jeans the same color as these,” he tugged on the belt loop of her shorts with his free hand before flicking the brim of her hat. “This hat, your hair in two pig-tails, and you wore the same beat-up black Converse that you’re wearing right now. 

“And every time I looked up at you, you looked a little tired, probably because you had pulled an all-nighter beforehand, but you stood for the whole game with this little pompom thing in your hand, cheering every time we got a goal and booing every time OSU got one.

“After the game, I met you outside where you proceeded to tackle me in your infamous bear hugs, all because I got a lousy hit on some player. Then, we went out for ice cream, and you got vanilla with sprinkles. We sat on a bench, and I kept eyeing your bowl until you finally gave in and let me try some.

“We went back to your dorm once we were done, and you stole my beanie, which you didn’t give back for another two weeks.”

Her eyes watered at how detailed his memory was, hanging onto his every word like she was a little girl listening to her mom read her the most magical bedtime story about a princess and a prince. 

“You can’t cry on me yet, I haven’t finished.” He wiped a stray tear from her cheek, smiling as she let out a choked laugh filled with emotion.

“You made me watch The Little Mermaid because you like singing 'Part of Your World’ and then you fell asleep for the first time in my arms and I don’t think I’ve ever looked back.”

Her breath hitched because she remembered that, remembered how Luke grinned at her whenever a song came on and she started singing it, whenever she’d quote a line or make a random, out of pocket comment because Ariel said something that made her think of something else, whenever she would explain to him how stupid or thoughtful an action was. She remembered everything about that day, just as well as he did. 

“That wasn’t the first moment I thought you were gorgeous, not even the second or the third or the fourth, but- it’s my favorite one because you looked happy, you looked like you couldn’t care what anyone else thought, and that is infinitely more beautiful than anything else.”

“Luke…”

“Yeah?” He played with the end of one of her braids, twirling the hair around his fingers.

“You really think that?”

“There’s nothing that I think that is truer than that, pretty girl.”

Their eyes met again, and he couldn’t help but lean in, his lips pressing against hers softly. 

The kiss didn’t last long, y/n barely getting a chance to kiss back before splashes of water hit her, both of them jumping in sync to see the three 22-year-olds staring at them with innocent expressions. 

“Whoops.”

“Leave it to them to ruin the moment,” Luke grumbled, leaning his forehead against her shoulder, causing her to laugh and tangle her fingers in his curls.

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[letsgetrowdy43]

I've been thinking a lot about men who yearn, specifically Luke Hughes and the way he is down bad for his woman in inconceivable ways!!

I'm thinking Luke x plus size!reader. Maybe she's very not used to receiving love so outwardly, and luke literally can not keep all the love he has for her to himself.

Like she is a blushing mess every time he tells her how pretty she is, or anytime he unpromptedly wraps himself around her, even a gentle hand brush has her so flustered!!

And a little bit in Luke likes to see the effect he has on her, but also he can tell she's never received such romantic and unconditional love and he wants her to know just how much love he holds for her!!

I imagine they are at a bar, lights are dimmed, everyone is either dancing or mingling amongst themselves, and Luke is just holding her by the hips and inching her closer and closer till her back is flush against his chest, as he talks along with his teammates.

She's not uncomfortable, but she always has this little voice in her head that hates to let her relish in this love sick carelessness.

“You okay?” she asks the man, as he squeezes her hip and presses a kiss to her cheek.

She's immediately red, looking at all of his friends for their reaction, but they are in their little world.

“You're very clingy lately,” she said with a quirked brow as her hand moved to flatten the collar of his shirt.

“Not clingy,” he shook his head, “just wanna love on you,” he said before pulling her in for a life-altering, heated kiss in the middle of the bar.

He pulls away momentarily, holding her face in his hands and mumbles a short, “my pretty girl,” before kissing her once again.

And the beautiful thing is that no one is watching, and the moment is totally theirs to cherish :)))

[ruinix]

❀Drabble Masterlist ❀

Can you believe it? A masterlist for this lil blog 🫨🙂‍↕️

#ruinix drabbles - i wrote because i was asked

Before sending things over. I have rules: Inbox Rules; Request Format; Filtering Tags Guide

Requests: OPEN

Writing energy comes and goes, depending on how active my two braincells work. I write for my faves in my nav (except for my children, i simply can't). All works shall be considered 18+ (MDNI), even with fluff. Fics are arranged from oldest to newest per section. [Smut, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst]

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Quinn Hughes

Everything Else | Q x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Smut, Size Kink, Mild choking, Unprotected sex]

Treat | Q x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Smut, Kisses and Oral (fem receiving)]

One. Two. Three. | Q x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Smut or smut(ish), Sloppy kisses and (kiss)Marking, Slightest bit of choking]

Perfectly Divine | Q x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+ , Smut, Implied Unprotected Sex, Oral (fem receiving), Face-sitting, Cum eating.]

Trouble | Q x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+ , Smut, Masturbation, a dash of Breeding Kink, Unprotected Sex, Brief Choking, Use of ‘hubby’]

Payback | Q x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+ , Smut, Oral sex (m receiving) / Blowjob, Hair tugging, Choking (on dick) / gagging, slight Overstimulation (m)]

Fifteen | Q x Fem!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Smut, Handjob with spitting, Hair tugging, Overstimulation (both), Oral sex , slight Choking, slight Dominance] | Part 2 of Payback [A part of a whole or A standalone]

Forbidden Feelings | Male Stripper!Q x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+ , Smut, Stripping, Love Confession, Dry Humping, Unprotected Sex, Mild Choking, Quinn falls first and falls harder]

Blues and Ease | Q x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Fluff (cuddles and kisses), Hurt/Comfort, showering together, a dash of separation anxiety Quinn]

Popcorn and Sweets | Q x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Fluff (cuddles and kisses), Slight brat behavior, very slight suggestive tone]

Breakfast & Tattoos | Q x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Smut, Unprotected sex, Tattoo healing inaccuracy]

Beers and Dares | Q x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Fluff, Alcohol Consumption (just Quinn shotgunning lmao), A bit suggestive]

Beers and Kisses | Q x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Smut, Alcohol Consumption (heavy on this), Unprotected Sex, Drunk sex, Semi-Public sex, Praise Kink] | Part 2 of Beers and Dares

Stay with me | Q x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Fluff (hugs and kisses)]

Broken Promise, Broken Cards | Q x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Smut, Spanking and pussy slapping, Edging, Unprotected sex, Squirting]

Spoken Gestures | Q x Deaf-and-F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Smut, Slight description of a past injury (blood and stitches), Choking, Oral sex (fem receiving), Unprotected Sex]

Cramped Space | Q x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Smut, Semi-Public Sex (car sex), Unprotected Sex]

Burning Touches | Q x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Body worship (m!receving), Teasing, Unprotected Sex, Overstimulation (m)]

His Little Princess | dad!Q x Pregnant/mom!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Fluff, a bit suggestive tones. Pregnancy and birthing (mentions of cravings, pain during labor, epidural)]

Fairylights and Wildflowers | Q x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Smut, Exploration of Hobbies (shopping, crocheting, puzzles), lots of Kisses, Semi-Public sex / Pool sex , Unprotected sex]

Outfits & Evasions | Q x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Fluff, lots of kisses, Tiktok Challenge: Think fast, I'm a random girl. Slight suggestive tones]

Lines plus Chances | Q x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content (omitted / only kisses), Suggestive tones, Mentions of blind boxes]

Jack Hughes

Caught | Jack x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Smut, Masturbation (usage of toy), Dom-Sub dynamics (dom!Jack), Cockwarming as punishment, Degradation then Praises, Unprotected sex, Aftercare]

Luke Hughes

Cookies, Coffee, and Milk | Lukey x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Fluff (cuddles and kisses), Slight Overthinking Luke]

Nico Hischier

In His Arms | Nico x F!Reader | [Warnings: 18+, Hurt/Comfort, Cuddles and Kisses, Crying, Protective Nico]

© 2025 ruinix. All rights reserved. I do not authorize all and any of my works to be used, copied, plagiarized, reposted, and/or modified on any platform. Do not claim my content and/or do not use it in AI.

[puck-luck]

Forever yearning for a jealous, dominant Luke Hughes. I mean spitting in your mouth, edging, mirror sex, etc. I need the filthy, down bad luke.

Scenario: maybe you’re becoming close with one of the other players (completely innocent-just forming a friendship) but Luke doesn’t see it as that way…

👉🏻👈🏻

warnings (in no particular order): spit(!!), jealousy, dom!luke, edging, mirror sex, one (1!) slap to the face just for the enjoyment of my friend jo, spanking, drinking (technically underage hiii luke turn 21 already stop being lame), beating yourself up, pet names and nicknames as FUCK (always bro do y’all even know me), road head, face fucking, unprotected p in v, dare i say breeding kink, implied subspace, allusion to size kink (probably established size kink to be fair), I THINK THAT’S IT BUT I’M NOT SURE! pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader summary: the one when luke gets jealous at the bar and doles out a bit of a punishment (code: luke is insecure about his performance on the ice, so when his gf starts talking with another teammate who is her friend, he gets jealous and feels like he has to prove himself by making her feel good, but he’s still a dom bc HOTTTT) wc: 6416

The Devils’ last game of the season was at home this year. There was no chance that they would make the playoffs and Jack was out in Colorado for his shoulder surgery, plus Luke’s parents weren’t able to make it from Michigan for his final rookie game. He was depending on you to be there, so there you were. You were cheering, you were yelling at the officials when they missed a call, you were laughing at Luke when he took a trademarked Hughes spill on the ice with barely anyone around him. Yeah, you were disappointed at the end of the game when the Islanders won (and it wasn’t even close), but it was just one game. It wasn’t the end of the world. It was a disappointment, but it wasn’t life-changing.

Luke, however, was much more upset with their performance when you met up with him after the game. He drove the two of you to the bar where the team was meeting for one last celebration before the off-season and he tried, he really did, to keep his complaints inside. He was stewing, just letting it well up inside of him and fester in the silence between you, until it spilled over.

“It should have been a better game,” Luke finally said, the harsh edge in his tone rubbing you in all the wrong ways. “We could’ve done more. If I had just–”

“Lu, baby,” you interrupted, voice soft. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was out there the longest, other than Jake,” Luke argued. “They depend on me and I let them down.”

“You were only on the ice for one goal, Lu. You couldn’t have done anything about at least the other three.”

Your statement was not something he wanted to hear. Your boyfriend, sweet as he was, always saw the best in everyone else and the worst in himself. Where he could have been blaming Brendan for the loss, since Brendan was on the ice for three of the four goals, he was instead blaming himself. He was never one to hold a grudge against his teammates or his friends or his family, which was part of the reason why you were so in love with him.

He grunted instead of giving you a real response, but you knew it was coming from a place of knowing you’re right but still feeling hurt.

“I love you,” you told him, just a reminder that his performance would never affect your affection towards him. 

“I love you too,” Luke replied, and you two fell back into silence. It was less tense this time, but his shoulders were still tense and he was frowning, almost pouting. He was so pretty, even now, but you hated how this expression marred his face.

When you pulled up to the bar, you were met by Luke’s teammates. While some of the men had gone home after the game, it was mostly the ones who had families. You knew their wives and girlfriends would have encouraged them to go out with the team rather than stay home with the kids, but you understood. If Luke had wanted to go straight home after the game, you would’ve gone with him and cuddled him until you fell asleep.

“Do you want to get out and get me a drink, baby, while I find parking?” Luke asked, always so considerate. 

“Yeah,” you agreed easily, leaning over the center console to peck his lips before you left the car. 

Waiting outside the entrance of the bar, Nico and John smiled as you got out of the car and walked over to them. You hugged each of them before entering the bar, Nico walking in ahead of you and John following you with a hand on your back. 

It didn’t mean anything to you or to John, but when Luke watched John guide you into the bar before he drove away to search for a parking spot, something sharp and green poked at his heart.

Luke finally made his way into the bar about ten minutes after you walked in, and your face had lit up when you saw him like it had been much longer. He didn’t see you at first, so you had the chance to watch him scan the room. His brow was furrowed as he scanned each person’s features. You knew that he was trying to spot you without looking for the other boys at first, but it was proving difficult with how crowded the room had become.

Timo appeared at his side and patted Luke’s shoulder in greeting. Luke talked to him for a minute before Timo pointed your way. Luke’s face split with a smile when he saw you and he gave Timo a pat before beelining towards you.

You looped your arms around Luke’s neck when he joined you, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“Gross,” Nico complained from next to you. “It’s only been a few minutes since you’ve seen each other.”

“You’re not in love,” Luke replied, snarky and sarcastic like he tended to be when it wasn’t just the two of you. He then turned to you. “Where’s my drink?”

“What a priority,” you teased, rolling your eyes at him. He pinched your side. “I sent Johnny to go get it.”

Luke’s expression changed for a split second before he schooled his features. You wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t so in tune with his emotions, experience that comes only after years of dating a person. 

You let it go, knowing that it can’t be too important, or Luke would have said something. He knew you were friends with guys on the team. After being around them for almost a year, having moved out here with Luke at the start of his rookie year, it was bound to happen. Plus, Luke wasn’t the jealous type. He knew that you loved him and you’d love him forever, saying yes in a second if he chose to propose.

But to him, there was something about the way you said “Johnny” instead of John. It was that and John’s hand on your back as he guided you into the bar, on top of an already hard night, that had Luke questioning himself.

“I asked him to get you a rum and coke,” you said, tilting your head up to poke Luke’s nose with your own. “Is that okay?”

“It sounds good, thank you,” Luke replied. 

You resume conversation with Nico, turning to face him but staying tucked into Luke’s side. He had a hand on your hip and the other accepted the drink that John handed Luke when he returned. He nursed it quietly for a while, engaging in conversation here and there, but mostly just enjoying his time with his friends. 

The game was the last time that his whole team would be together like that, but this night out was the last time that his team, his friends, would be together in the way that mattered. Even if no one was traded, if no one changed in the slightest (except Jack, coming back from injury), things still wouldn’t be quite the same. It wouldn’t be his second year, his presence wouldn’t be new or exciting. He would have to try harder, do better, and be consistent to show that he wasn’t just an example of beginner’s luck.

He clutched you a little tighter to his side at that thought. He was comforted by the way that you melted into him, moving to lean back against his chest. Your hand covered his and the other polished off your drink. He took the empty cup from you and kissed your cheek before pulling away to toss your cup, and his, in the trash can behind him.

When he returned, he was taken aback by the sight before him.

You had stepped forward and were carding your fingers through John’s curls and Luke saw red before he saw the thoughtful look on your face. John had just said to you and Nico that he thought his hair was getting too long, too unruly. You didn’t agree– it was a good length, the curls were just settling into their shapes.

“I don’t think you should cut it, John,” you were saying before Luke grabbed your other wrist and yanked you towards him. “Luke!” You exclaimed, startled by the movement.

“Time to go,” Luke announced, loud enough that the other boys could hear. He clutched your wrist, not your hand, your wrist, and pulled you along as he stomped toward the exit.

“Luke, what is going on?” You asked, voice resounding in your ears like it’s much louder than it actually is. 

Luke kept walking like he didn’t even hear you, pushing through the door and leading you down the block to the car. He opened your door for you and helped you in, but he slammed it shut once you were buckled into your seat. He rounded the car and opened his own door, glaring at you in a passing glance before settling into the driver’s seat.

“Lu,” you implored, pressing your hands against the top of your thighs. 

When he didn’t reply, you tried again.

“Babe, talk to me–”

“I don’t want you to speak unless you’re spoken to,” Luke said. He refused to look at you. “You think you can touch John’s hair the way you touch mine? You’ll let him guide you into the bar the way I would? I’m not enough for you, huh, baby?”

You blinked, suddenly shifting up to sit a little straighter. Luke, your sweet angel Luke, the baby of his family who would never hurt a fly, who avoided hockey fights at every cost, had flipped his switch.

“Answer me. I asked you a question.”

“No, sir,” you said. Your eyes flickered down to where Luke’s knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. You inhaled sharply as you made eye contact with the veins decorating the back of his hand.

“No?” Luke repeated, mocking. “I’m not enough for you?”

“No! Lu, you’re more than enough, you know you’re the only one I need.” Your words came out scrambled and you tripped over them. 

Luke clicked his tongue, disapproval written all over his face. “Can’t even speak, can you?” He scoffed, reached down with one hand, and popped the button on his jeans. “Let’s put your mouth to a better use until you can find your words.”

“You’re driving,” you pointed out, casting a worried look at the road ahead of you.

“It wasn’t a question,” Luke threw you a glance. He looked back at the road, then back to you, this time holding your gaze. He cocked his head to the side, eyes softening for a moment. “Was it?”

“No,” you breathed out. 

“Good girl.” A smile spread over Luke’s face and he turned back to the road. “Get to it.”

You clenched your thighs together and unbuckled your seatbelt so you could twist towards Luke and lean over the center console. You reached out to unzip his pants, but he knocked your hands away.

“I didn’t say use your hand. I said,” he paused, grabbing your hair and tilting your head up so your eyes met his, “Use your mouth.”

The noise that escaped you was involuntary. You moved forward that extra inch and carefully took Luke’s zipper in your mouth, dragging it down. His boxers were revealed by the action, but that was the extent of it. 

“Come on,” Luke encouraged, growing impatient. What you couldn’t see from your position was the smug tilt of his mouth, knowing there was no way to get his cock out of his pants with just your mouth. “Take it out.”

“Can’t,” you whimpered.

“Oh, you can’t?” Luke mocked, feigning sympathy. “Poor baby needs my help, yeah?”

You nodded and hummed an agreement.

Luke’s grip tightened on your hair and he gave it a sharp tug. “Use your manners.”

“Please, Lu, help me,” you conceded.

“Help you what?”

“Help me take your cock out so I can suck you, please, sir.” Your voice was close to breaking, you were itching to get your mouth on him and make him feel good. 

Luke obliged, revealing himself to you. You opened your mouth and he pumped himself twice just to tease you before slapping the lip of his cock on the flat of your tongue. He fed you his cock, returning his hand to your hair when you had taken as much of his length in your mouth as you could. He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail with his one hand, the other still on the wheel, and began to guide your head up and down. 

You gagged when he guided you to his base, nose touching the fabric of his boxers around his cock, but the groan he let out made the discomfort worth it. It was low and desperate, just pure relief.

“Wanna fuck your mouth,” Luke breathed out, pulling you up so just the tip of his cock remained in your mouth. 

You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, swiping your tongue over his slit and relishing in the taste of his precum in your mouth. 

He moaned aloud, the sound seeming to echo throughout the car. You could feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. You let out a sigh, suddenly overwhelmed with contentment for your situation. Luke was perfect. He was the perfect boyfriend, whether he was his soft and cuddly self or this dominant version of him that wasn’t afraid to tell you what to do, to communicate what he wanted. 

“Would if I weren’t driving, too,” Luke mumbled, mostly to himself. “Fuck, baby, make me come. You know how.”

Luke returned both hands to the steering wheel and allowed you to move your head freely, to go at your own pace. You bobbed your head with enthusiasm, spit dripping down his shaft and soaking the fabric around him. You gagged at times, but the tight squeeze of your throat around him just added to Luke’s pleasure. He wasn’t shy about telling you how good you felt, either, making you more determined to make him come.

“Fuck, pull off,” Luke said, his voice a little shaky.

You couldn’t. You couldn’t, not when he was so close. The idea of having his come in your mouth, on your tongue, the manifestation of how you made him feel, was too alluring. 

“Y/N, pull off,” Luke commanded, reaching down to yank you off of him by your hair. He clenched his jaw as he held you just far enough off his cock that you thought, with just one bump in the road, you could capture it again. He steered out of the lane and parked on the side of the road. “You don’t want to listen? You’re so cockdumb that you can’t follow my orders?”

All you could do was look at him, eyes wide. 

He spoke through his teeth, never once blinking or breaking eye contact. “Since you want me inside you so bad, I’m gonna fuck your mouth until I come. You’re gonna take it. Even if you gag, even if you cry, I’m not going to stop until I come. Then, you’re going to sit back and buckle yourself in and I’m going to finish driving us home. You will not swallow. You’re going to hold my come in your mouth until I say so. Do you understand?”

Your jaw dropped at the words, the tips of your ears growing hot. “Yes, sir.” It’s nearly inaudible and you can feel your panties growing damper with just the thought of it– minute after minute ticking by, Luke’s come coating your tongue, not being able to speak or swallow. You’re completely under Luke’s control.  

He leaned back in the seat and motioned toward his cock. 

You allowed him to guide you onto his length again, getting comfortable with its size. You hollowed your cheeks and looked up at him, pausing your movements and staying statue-still.

A smirk took over Luke’s face. “That’s my girl.”

He took your head with both hands, keeping your hair out of your face and keeping you from moving an inch, and began to thrust into your mouth. It was sharp and hard and you tried to create a vacuum-type suction around his cock, as tight as you knew he liked it, but it was hard with the head of his dick hitting the back of your throat with every buck of his hips. You ended up gagging, and crying, and drooling all over his cock, just like Luke had said, and he fulfilled his promise that he wouldn’t stop.

“Look at you, making such a mess of yourself,” Luke scoffed. “Such a mess all over my cock, just to make me feel good. You’d let me do whatever I wanted, wouldn’t you, baby? You’d never let anyone else take you like this, just me, yeah? No one else gets to see you just leaking all over my cock because you’re mine.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at that and the moan you released around Luke’s length caused his hips to stutter, made him unable to hold back his orgasm any longer. He came in stripes all over your tongue, some of it leaking down the back of your throat before you could stop it. He pulled you off of him and crashed his lips against yours, a close-mouthed kiss because you wouldn’t dare disobey, couldn’t handle the idea of disappointing Luke.

“My good girl,” Luke cooed when he pulled away.

You offered him a lazy smile, head foggy and bones mushy. You were sated, an elevated version of just happy, and so, so comfortable. You loved him. He was everything.

“I’m not done with you yet, am I?” Luke asked softly, thumbing over your bottom lip. 

You shook your head.

“Open,” Luke said. “I want to see my come on your tongue.”

You hesitantly opened your mouth, pushing your tongue out so he could see the milky white substance coating the muscle. 

Luke captured your cheeks with one hand and leaned in with the other holding your head in place. You stared at his eyes, which were watching your tongue as a line of his saliva mixed with the come in your mouth. When his eyes rose to meet yours, it was the embers of desire that made your head roll back and the instinct, the pure instinct of having something in your mouth, that caused you to swallow.

Your head snapped forward, eyes wide and not doe-eyed, not purposefully innocent to make Luke’s heart jump. No, your eyes were wide with worry because you disobeyed him. It wasn’t something you did to spite him or push him further over the line. 

“I’m sorry.” The words leaked from your mouth and you scrambled to take Luke’s hand in yours, clutching his right with both of yours. “Luke, it was an accident, you know I’d never–”

His mouth was open in shock, briefly, before it snapped shut and his eyes twinkled with something downright predatory. His hand was limp in yours (though not pulling away) and he was still.

“But you did,” He interrupted. “You did.”

“I didn’t mean to.” You were trying to reason with him, but you knew the damage was done. Whatever he had planned for you when you got back to the house, it was going to be ten times worse now.

Luke just shook his head and removed his hand from your grasp, pulling back onto the highway and resuming the drive home. You weren’t far, the area around you looking more and more familiar with each passing second. The minutes stretched for what seemed like hours with Luke’s silence. You held your own hand nervously, pinching at the skin of you knuckles and avoiding Luke’s face. You couldn’t handle seeing the disappointment etched into his features.

Luke pulled into the garage of the apartment complex after just about five minutes. Suddenly, it hits you– you have the apartment all to yourselves tonight. There’s nothing to stop Luke, or you for that matter, from being as loud or as public as he wants. There’s a window in the living room, one that Luke mentioned after your last session. A spark traveled up your spine when you realize that tonight might be the night that he fucks you out in the open, for anyone to see.

When he shifted the car into park, Luke turned to you expectantly.

You apologized again, softly, once he looked at you.

His features softened then, seeing your apprehension. He reached out and took your hand. “Are you okay?”

“I feel bad that I didn’t listen,” you replied. Your eyes fell on your shoelaces, which were an off-white color after plenty of use. You made a note to yourself that maybe you should wash them soon. You wondered if they’d return to their original color. The shoes were much more interesting than looking up at Luke and meeting his eyes.

He tilted your head upward with a guided hand anyway. “You’re still my good girl,” he reassured. “Are you okay to keep going? Or do you want me to stop? I won’t be mad. Whatever you want, we can do it. We can leave this in the car and I can take care of you, baby.”

You could cry at his words, how great he is about your slip-up. You did want him to be sweet, but you knew that he needed this. He needed to work through whatever was going on in his mind and if he could just be in control of this, just for a little while longer, it would be so much easier for him later.

“I want to keep going,” you admitted.

“You know your word?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me?”

“Flower.”

“That’s right, baby.” Luke pecked your lips, but when he pulled back he was back to business. “Now, are you ready to listen to me?”

You nodded, eyes trained on his. Neither of you blinked, a silent contest that he ended up losing (something that would normally cause you to gloat, but now doesn’t seem like the right time).

“When you get to the apartment, you’re going to strip. You’re going to sit on the edge of our bed. You’re going to touch yourself while you wait for me and I want you to watch yourself in the mirror. If you come, and you know I’ll know if you do, you’re not going to come at all tonight. I want you to bring yourself right to the edge and stay there. Can you do that for me?” He spoke slowly and clearly, his voice gravely and dominant. He didn’t stumble over his words or pause and “um” like he did in interviews. No, this was when Luke was at his surest. This was when he knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say.

“I can do that,” you agreed, unbuckling your seatbelt and gathering your things.

“I’m going to give you a five minute head start.”

You nodded at Luke, opened your door, and left the vehicle. When you got up to the apartment, you didn’t bother to hang your coat or purse on the hooks Luke put up just for you. You didn’t put your shoes neatly like the door like you normally did. Instead, you dropped your belongings and kicked the shoes off one by one on your walk to the bedroom. You shed your clothing in a similar manner, leaving a trail behind for Luke to chuckle at when he walked in the door. 

Fully naked, you stared at yourself in the mirror that faced your bed. You read once that it was bad luck to have a mirror face a bed, that your reflection could like… capture your soul, or something, but you kept the mirror there anyway because if there was anything Luke enjoyed, it was seeing himself fuck you in the mirror. He liked to watch you ride him in reverse cowgirl, so he could see your ass jiggle as you bounced on his cock with his own eyes and your whole body in the reflection. 

Sometimes, his hands would drift up and he would hold your tits, watching how he could envelop them in his palms. You tilt your head to the side, watching your own hands slide up your body to do the same. 

For everything you could imagine Luke doing, there your hands were trying to satisfy yourself. If you closed your eyes, you could convince yourself that it was him instead.

His cock would disappear into your pussy, thrusting in and out and causing you to whine. His fingers would circle your clit or pinch your nipples. He would palm your ass, or reach up to wrap his hand around your neck. He would reach just that spot…

You didn’t ever hear it when Luke opened the door and joined you in the room. He thought you knew he was coming, with the way you were whining his name and begging for him. Your eyes snapped open as he closed the door behind him and you quickly pulled your fingers out from inside of you.

Luke walked over to you and sank onto his knees between your legs. “Gimme a taste, love.”

You offered him your fingers, which he took into his mouth. He sucked on them softly for far too short a time, in your opinion, with the way his cheekbones became more prominent as he cleaned your fingers of your wetness.

“Tastes good,” he told you with a smile when he was finished. 

“Thank you,” you replied, practically a whimper. Your chest felt tight, like someone was squeezing your heart in your chest. You were waiting, just waiting, for Luke to tell you what was next.

He rose to sit on the bed next to you, guiding you to shift over so you were sitting on his lap. “I’m going to spank you,” he whispered against your lips. “Just ten times. That’s all. It’ll go fast, but I’m not going to go easy on you. I know you can take it.” Luke kissed you again, snuck his tongue into your mouth for a quick, far too quick pass, before pulling back. “Turn over, baby, and lean over my knee, yeah?”

Your movements were slow, your brain turning foggy again like it was in the car. Luke helped you over his knee, still clothed. The contrast between how clothed he was and how naked you were almost made you drool. It was nearly embarrassing, being this down bad for Luke when he seemed to be completely fine, unaffected.

Luke snapped you out of your thoughts with a spank. The pain was only there for a split second before Luke was rubbing soothing circles over your skin. You shivered when he dipped his hand lower and trailed a finger through your folds.

“So wet,” he murmured.

You clenched down and he pulled away, only to deliver a second slap to your cheek. You shivered, goosebumps rising over your arms.

“So, baby, tell me,” Luke began, bringing down his hand again. “Why am I spanking you?” He waited for you to answer before bringing his hand down again. “Because I swallowed– oh– when you told me not to.”

“Mhm. Why else?”

Another spank. Now, it was starting to sting. Your ass had turned a pretty shade of pink that caused Luke to bite his lip and run his hands over your skin, feeling the heat radiate off the surface.

You were quiet. You weren’t quite sure. Holding his come in your mouth had been the punishment for not pulling off when he told you to. You had been slow to say please in the car, but that wasn’t ever something Luke would punish you for, just something he’d remind you to do. “For, um…” You trailed off, not sure what to say.

Luke scoffed and spanked you three times, harsh enough that his handprint stayed imprinted on your body for longer than it normally did when he spanked you. You cried out, your head dropping and tears welling up in your eyes. 

“‘For, um,’” he mocked. “You don’t know? You’re that fucking dumb that you can’t remember what happened less than an hour ago?”

“Lu, please,” were the words that escaped your mouth instead of an answer to his question. They were teary and he almost stopped, almost, just because of how your voice shook. 

“Please what?” He spat, another slap echoing throughout the room. 

“I don’t know,” You sobbed. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me.”

“Five more,” Luke warned you and you nodded. 

It took a lot out of you, agreeing for five more, but Luke wouldn’t do anything he didn’t think you could handle.

“How about this, baby?” Luke said. Slap. “For touching John’s hair the same way you touch mine?” Slap. “For letting the boys guide you into the restaurant like you’re their girlfriend, not mine.” Slap. “For sending John off to get me a drink when I told you to do so?” Slap. “For not listening?” Slap. “For being a fucking brat?”

You wailed, slumped against Luke. He got a good look at you in the mirror, boneless over his knee. He took in the red skin of your ass, tracing the line of his raised handprint. 

“You’re mine,” Luke continued, sounding off. You turned your head towards the mirror, eyes hazy but still able to make him out. He was waiting for you to look at him, for your eyes to meet his. “You can’t– you can’t treat him like he’s special.”

And suddenly, it all clicked. Luke was jealous because he was scared of the same thing you’d skated around in your conversation right after the game. Luke wanted to be special, wanted you to see him and need him. He needed you to need him, to let him take control and take care of you and decide things for you, all because he didn’t want to be the person who lost everything because he wasn’t good enough. Even the idea that John could possibly take Luke’s place, as preposterous as it was to you, sent Luke into a spiral.

“Fuck me, Luke,” you said, voice shaky and light because of the headspace you were in. “Take me. I’m yours. Prove it.”

Gently, so gently in contrast to his prior actions, Luke helped you up and lay you down on your back on the bed, placing a pillow under your hips. You lay there for a few minutes, blinking slowly and watching as Luke shed his clothes and rummaged through his dresser drawers for something. His back was to you and you smiled to yourself, too fucked out to let out a giggle, at his backside. When Luke turned around, two of his gameday ties in hand, he cocked his head to the side at your smile.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked.

“Boy butts are so funny,” You answered. “They’re just so small. Like… where are your hips, Lu?”

Luke blinked a few times, then shook his head. “Oh my God, you’ve lost it.”

“I’ve been thinking it. We need to get you in the gym.”

“You’re being a brat.”

“And your butt is small.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Luke scoffed. He had walked to the bed and was tying one of your hands to his headboard.

“I’m waiting.”

Luke huffed out a laugh at your response. “You’re making it hard to dom you, baby.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was the road head not enough?”

Luke shushed you, moving to your other hand and tying that one with the other tie.

“What about the spitting in my mouth and spanking me?” You continue, goading him. 

Luke crawled up your body, kissing up your stomach and chest and neck as he went. 

One more sentence, and he wouldn’t find it so difficult to dominate you for this final stretch. 

He’s hovering over your lips, his breath fanning out over them.

“I bet Johnny could do it better.”

Luke pulled back, jaw dropped. His mouth returned to a strait line and his eyes turned murderous. There it was, there’s the dominance that he thought he lost.

 You smirked at him, proud of yourself for the comment you made, until Luke’s palm made contact with your cheek. Your head turned with the impact and you swore your heart stopped. You were too surprised to say anything. As the seconds of silence passed where you and Luke just stared at each other, same shocked expression on your face, you realized: huh. That’s not so different from when he spanks me.

Then, another second after that: That was kind of… hot.

“Are you okay?” Luke breathed out. He’s practically frozen in place.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Oh my God, Luke, yeah.” You pulled on the restraints above you, itching to get him inside of you. You circled your legs around his waist and raised your hips, trying to make contact with him. “Fuck, Lu, that was so hot, please fuck me.”

Luke blinked twice and searched your face for any discomfort, anything that would show him that you were upset or hurt by his slap. He hadn’t even done it intentionally, just driven by the pure rage of you mentioning John, saying that John could be better for you than Luke was.

It wasn’t until your wiggling hips caused his cock to make contact with your weeping pussy that he began to move.

He started by pinning your hips down.

“Greedy,” he chastised. 

“I need you in me, don’t treat me like I’m made of glass,” you whined.

Luke positioned himself at your entrance and snapped his hips forward, burying himself inside you in one fell swoop.

It knocked all the breath out of you. Even after dating Luke for ages, his size still surprised you.

“How’s that, huh? Can you feel me? Do you think I’m treating you gently?” Luke asked, grinding his teeth as he fucked in and out of you. His skin was slapping against yours and he moved one of our legs so your knee was thrown over his shoulder. “You think Marino could fuck you like this?” He practically spat out John’s name, disgust coating each syllable.

“Probably,” you quipped, your voice snarky. You were itching for Luke to slap you again, or something, because he wasn’t giving it everything. He was still shaken up by the fact that he hit you at all.

“‘Probably,’” He repeated, incredulous. “You’ll never know, will you, baby?” He snaps his hips harder, faster. “This is my pussy. It only gets wet for me, you only spread your legs for me, you can be a slut all you want but only in the confines of these four walls. You can be bad, only right here… where I’m able to fuck. it. out. of you.”

You moan, wanton and long in the back of your throat. Your hands are aching to grab his hair, to twist the curls between your fingers. “Lu, my hand,” you told him.

“What about it?” He asked, not slowing his pace.

“Untie it, please!”

Luke looked down at you, confused. “Why?”

You whined, keening as your back arched and you squeezed his cock. “Need to get a hand on you, Lu, fuck. Wanna pull your hair. So pretty, so much prettier than John’s.”

“Oh,” he whispered, his stomach turning. He reached up to undo the knot, trying to continue to fuck you and untie it at the same time. When your hand came free, it immediately found purchase in his curls. Your fingernails scraped his scalp and his eyes rolled in the back of his head as he bucked into you with uncoordinated thrusts. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned. “Gonna make me come.”

“Please,” you begged. “Inside me, inside me–”

Your vision went white and your pussy was like a vice around him as you came.

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke agreed, voice strained. He watched the bliss wash over your features and whined. “Fuck you til you’re full, show everyone you’re all mine.” 

It’s the thought of pumping his seed into you, making you round with his child, that sends Luke over the edge. No one would think to take you from him then, not that you’d ever go. No one would ever be able to call you theirs like he could call you his, not when he’s fucked you full, not when you’re carrying his baby.

“So perfect for me,” Luke mumbled in your ear, collapsing on top of you as he came down from his orgasm. 

“Just for you, Lu.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You paused, rubbing his back. “You know we have to talk about this, right? You’re more than enough and I don’t want you to feel insecure anymore.”

Luke pulled himself out of you, wincing at the sensitivity. “Can we talk about it tomorrow? I think we could both use some rest.”

He got up from the bed and walked into his bathroom, grabbing a towel and coming back to wipe you clean. 

“Can it wait that long?” You fixed him with a look of concern.

“Baby.” Luke cut his eyes at you, then finished wiping you down. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

You shrugged. “Okay,” you agreed, then made yourself comfortable, pulling the covers over your body. You turned over, back to Luke, and spoke like it was an afterthought. “I loved it when you slapped me, you know.”

Luke groaned, leaned over to give you a kiss on your cheek. “I’m sorry I was mean.”

“Mmm, mean Luke gets me hot just like sweet Luke,” you replied. You turned your head and kissed his lips. “I like sweet Luke more, though. Sweet Luke cuddles me while I’m asleep.”

Luke laughed, going to toss the dirty towel in the dirty clothes hamper. “Sweet Luke will be back to cuddle you after he brushes his teeth,” he said.

When he returned, your breath was even and you had already fallen asleep, the ghost of a smile still gracing your lips. Luke bit his tongue, joined you under the covers, and threw his arm over the curve of your waist. Within just a few minutes, he was fast asleep next to you, softly snoring with his nose pressed into your hair.

notes: so, I, uh..... got a little carried away. I just kept having ideas. And I hope it worked out for me, to be fair. Hiiiiiii anon I hope this was good for youuuu love you bigggg I felt so awky-tawky writing some of this because as much as I would looooove a man to treat me like this, it feels so silly to write. Anyway. Loving y'all.

SEND MORE REQUESTS! I'LL GET TO THEM EVENTUALLY (they might not all be this long LOLLL)

[hockeyluvrr]

Meeting the family

au masterlist all other works

pairing: umich luke hughes x plus size oc

summary: meeting the family? terrifying. but at least Luke’s there to keep her calm.

warnings: mild language, body image/insecurity, anxiety, jack being jack (lol), that’s it I think idk…

author’s note: I decided to split it into two bits, one where she meets Jack and Luke and one where she meets Ellen and Jim. I just couldn’t find a way to write the two as one so you get two different meetings (yay!!)

word count: 1,536

MEETING THE BROTHERS

She almost backed out on the drive up.

Not because she didn’t want to go, she wanted to. Luke had been talking about this summer trip for weeks, practically vibrating with excitement. “You’ll love it,” he’d said. “Jack and Quinn are so chill. They’ll love you.”

That’s what he said.

But her brain was much louder.

They’re NHL stars. They’re tight as hell with Luke. They’ve seen the kind of girls hockey players date, gorgeous, model-adjacent types. Not someone like her.

Not someone plus-size, not someone who still sometimes flinched when a mirror caught her wrong, not someone who looked like her.

But Luke had held her hand the entire drive up. Kissed her knuckles. Sang embarrassingly loud to early 2000s hits when he could tell her thoughts were spiralling.

And now they were here.

The lake house was bigger than she expected. White siding, big windows, the sound of water gently slapping the dock in the distance. It looked like something off a postcard.

Luke helped her out of the car like they were arriving at a gala, not just walking into a house with his brothers.

“You ready?” he asked.

“No,” she said honestly.

He grinned. “Too bad.”

———

Jack opened the door.

Shirtless. Hair wet. Grinning like a devil.

“There he is!” he yelled, pulling Luke into a hug that was more of a headlock. “And this must be the girl we’ve heard so much about.”

Luke groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Don’t be weird, please.”

Jack stuck his hand out. “Jack. Middle child. Arguably the funniest and most charming.”

She laughed, instantly a little more at ease. “Nice to meet you.”

Quinn appeared behind him, slower, quieter, towel around his shoulders.

He gave her a polite smile. “Hey. You want something to drink? We’ve got water, soda, beers…”

“Water would be great,” she said, grateful for something to do with her hands.

Luke leaned in, whispered, “Told you they’d be normal.”

She elbowed him gently. “You told me Jack was normal?”

“Okay, technically I said Jack was manageable.”

———

The first hour was a blur.

Jack was loud and playful, constantly throwing jabs at Luke that only made Luke pull her in closer. Quinn was more reserved, but asked quiet questions. He asked her about her major, how she liked Ann Arbor, what books she was reading.

She noticed the way Quinn watched Luke when Luke wasn’t paying attention. The way his gaze would flick from her to his little brother and back again, like he was measuring something.

Not judging. Just…assessing.

She understood that. If she had a little brother and he brought home someone serious, she’d be doing the same.

At one point, Luke got up to grab something from the kitchen, and Jack immediately dropped into the seat next to her.

“So,” he said, “how’s he doing?”

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

Jack smirked. “You’re his first real real.”

“First…?”

“First one he actually brings home. First one he won’t shut up about. First one where he looks like a kicked puppy if we so much as yawn when he’s talking about you.”

She felt her face heat up.

“Oh,” she said.

Jack bumped her shoulder. “I like you. Just don’t break him. He’s a pain in the ass when he’s heartbroken.”

She smiled. “I’ll do my best.”

———

Later, she and Quinn ended up alone on the back deck, sipping drinks while the sun started to dip over the lake.

He was quiet for a while, then said, “He’s been happier since he met you.”

She looked up.

Quinn wasn’t smiling, but his eyes were soft.

“I haven’t seen him this…settled. It’s a good look on him.”

She shrugged. “He makes it easy. Most of the time.”

Quinn’s gaze didn’t waver. “You don’t have to pretend you’re not nervous.”

She swallowed. “That obvious?”

He nodded. “But I get it. It’s a lot, coming into someone’s family. Especially ours.”

There was a pause.

Then he added, “But you’re doing fine. Better than fine. And Jack’s already planning some nickname for you, which means you’re in.”

She laughed, the tightness in her chest loosening a little.

“Thanks, Quinn.”

He nodded once, then leaned back, tipping his beer toward the sky.

———

That night, after dinner and a movie and too many smores by the fire pit, Luke pulled her aside, into the cool quiet of the upstairs guest room they were staying in.

He wrapped his arms around her from behind, nose tucked into her neck.

“You did amazing,” he whispered.

“I don’t think I said more than five words during the entire movie.”

“Yeah, but they were all very intelligent words.”

She turned in his arms, rolling her eyes. “Jack thinks I’m a goddess and a threat to your emotional stability.”

Luke grinned. “He’s not wrong.”

“And Quinn said I passed.”

He tilted his head. “He graded you?”

“More like… evaluated me silently with wise older brother judgment.”

Luke kissed her forehead. “You passed with flying colours.”

She hesitated, fingers curling in the fabric of his hoodie.

“Do you really talk about me that much?”

He blinked. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I just… I don’t know. I guess I didn’t realise how serious this was for you.”

Luke’s brow furrowed. “You’re serious to me. Always have been.”

Her heart twisted, soft and a little raw.

He leaned in, kissed her slow.

“You’re not temporary,” he said. “You’re not a footnote. You’re the headline.”

And for the first time that day, the nerves stopped whispering.

Because his brothers didn’t just like her.

So did Luke.

Completely.

MEETING THE PARENTS

She almost backs out twice.

Once in her apartment, standing in front of the mirror and reapplying lip balm with shaking hands. And once more as she walks toward the café and sees Luke already inside, seated by the window with his parents.

She knew they were visiting. Luke had mentioned it earlier in the week—casual, offhand, like it wasn’t a big deal. “They’re here for a couple nights. Probably gonna grab dinner, maybe walk campus a bit. You should come.”

And somehow, she’d said yes.

Now she’s panicking.

Because it’s Ellen and Jim Hughes. Hockey royalty. Actual, real-life parents of NHL players. And she’s just…her. A physics major with anxiety and a thrifted denim jacket who still doesn’t totally understand icing.

She hesitates outside the door, heart pounding.

Then Luke looks up. Spots her.

And smiles.

Warm and wide and just for her.

He pushes up from the booth, excuses himself to his parents, and walks straight outside like he knew she might need him.

“Hey,” he says, voice soft. “You came.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I’m not. I’m just really glad.”

She exhales, lets him take her hand.

“They’re gonna love you,” he says, like it’s a fact.

She stares at him. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” Luke replies, and kisses her cheek before guiding her inside and over to the booth.

Ellen stands first. Pulls her into a hug that’s firm but not overwhelming. “We’ve heard so much about you,” she says, smiling like she means it.

Jim’s handshake is warm. “You keeping him out of trouble?”

She laughs, surprised by how easily it comes out. “Trying my best.”

They sit. The café is cozy, quiet enough for real conversation but not so quiet that her voice will shake and echo.

Luke sits beside her. Not across from her, beside her. His hand rests against her leg under the table, thumb tracing small circles. Always anchoring her.

Ellen and Jim ask questions, easy ones. What’s your major? How long have you been in Ann Arbor? What’s your favourite part of campus?

She answers as best she can. Tries not to fidget. Luke helps fill in the gaps.

“She tutors me in physics,” he says proudly. “Basically the reason I passed midterms.”

“She’s also the reason you eat three meals a day,” Ellen teases.

Luke grins. “And the reason I get up for my 8 a.m.”

Jim hums. “Sounds like someone important.”

She blushes. Luke squeezes her knee.

———

They all walk together for a bit, just down the street, a lazy campus loop.

Eventually, Ellen hangs back with Jim, letting Luke and her walk a few steps ahead. She can feel the buzz of approval in the air, even without words.

Luke bumps her shoulder gently. “You okay?”

She nods. “I think so.”

“They loved you.”

“You think?”

“I know. You’re smart, sweet, and you didn’t stumble over your words once. That’s a win.”

She laughs, finally feeling her nerves start to drain. “You sure they didn’t think I was weird?”

“I’m in love with you,” Luke says, like it’s nothing.

Like he’s just talking about the weather.

She stops walking. Blinks up at him.

“I’m just saying,” he adds quickly, a little breathless now, “that you didn’t need to be nervous. Because I love you. And they saw that. It’s enough.”

She kisses him softly before she can stop herself. “I love you too,” she mutters against his lips.

When she pulls back, he’s smiling.

“So,” she says. “I passed the parental exam?”

“Flying colours,” he murmurs, leaning in again. “A+.”

[voicemailfromluke-beep]

and when the moon loved the sun, even more

pair: luke hughes x f!reader; luke hughes x mid/plus-size reader

genre: angst, fluff, comfort

warnings: emotional hurt/comfort, crying, body image insecurity, sweet pet names, healing.

summary: after everything she said, it’s hard to believe you were ever enough. but when luke finds you hiding from the hurt, the truth starts to come to light and your heart had the right instinct all along.

🍅’s note: okay i know i said no new fic today but… i had to drop this one because why not 😭 feeding the softest luke to all my mid/plus-size babygirls out there. enjoy!

part: 2 of 2 | read part: 1

a soft knock at the door.

you didn’t answer.

“chublet?” luke’s voice was muffled through the wood.

“can i come in?”

you sat up a little, quickly wiping your face even though the tears had already dried into the pillow. your heart squeezed just hearing him say that name. the one only he called you. the one that made you feel seen, even on your worst days.

“…yeah,” you said, barely loud enough for him to hear.

door open, he stepped in, hair still wet. he looked concerned,without a word, he sat gently on the edge of the bed.

his hand rested near your knee, warm and careful.

“hey, you okay?”

you nodded, even though it was a lie. “yeah. just tired. nothing to worry about.”

he tilted his head.

“you were smiling like thirty minutes ago. now my chublet looks like she lost her favorite hoodie. what happened?”

you tried to smile. failed. “i told you not to call me that.”

“you secretly love it.”

“seriously,” he said, nudging your leg lightly.

“why’s my chublet so sad?”

you stayed quiet, eyes fixed on the blanket in your lap. your fingers twisted the edge of the fabric, knuckles white.

“luke…” your voice cracked before you could stop it.

“did you… did you ask cass out?”

he blinked. “what!?”

your throat burned.

“she said you did. that you wanted to get to know her better. and it’s fine. really. i just wish you told me instead of letting me hear it from her.”

he stared at you for a long second, mouth slightly open, processing your words.

“she told you that?”

you nodded, still not meeting his eyes.

“and she said someone like you would never date someone like me anyway.”

luke’s whole expression shifted. his jaw tensed. “she said that to you? to my chublet?”

you gave a weak shrug. “she’s not wrong, though.”

he reached out slowly, fingers grazing your arm.

“hey. chublet. look at me.”

you shook your head, blinking fast to hold back the tears. it was all unraveling now, your heart, your courage, your carefully built confidence.

“please, look at me.” he whispered, softer this time.

you turned your head, eyes red and full of everything you’d tried not to feel.

“i would never hide something like that from you,” he said.

“you know me better than that.”

“and you wanna know something else?” he leaned in just a little.

“she’s not even my type.”

your brows pulled together. “don’t lie, luke…”

“i’m not,” he said, serious now.

“you think i’m into girls who tear down other people behind their back? that’s not who i am. and definitely not what i want.”

you sniffed. “but you’re… you’re you. luke hughes. nhl player. golden boy. it wouldn’t surprise me if you did want someone like her. she’s everything.”

he gave you a look then, one that made your heart ache with how sincere it was.

“chublet, i might be an nhl player, but i’m still human. off the ice? i’m just a guy. a guy who’s got a soft spot for the girl who always forgets her sunscreen and thinks she’s not enough when she’s more than enough every damn day.”

“you’ve always been my favorite part of this group. not because you’re quiet. not because we’re close. but because you’re you. and if i haven’t made that clear before, i’m saying it now.”

tears slipped but this time, you didn’t try to stop them.

“you mean that?” you whispered.

“with everything i’ve got,” he said, his voice barely more than a breath.

“so… can i take you to dinner sometime? for real? just us?”

you smiled through the tears, cheeks burning with disbelief.

“yeah. you can.”

luke reached up and gently wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

“good. because i’ve been wanting to ask for a while.”

you laughed, the sound shaky and real.

“so i’m not just your chublet?”

“nah,” he said, grinning.

“you’re my chublet. and maybe… something more, if you’ll let me.”

[fiastomatocheek]

SNOOPY AND THE SUMMER GIRL

requested: yes | req: dad!luke request plsss. okay, so luke, reader and the other hughes brothers, taking their toddler onto the lake for the first time, and she gets scared when luke falls off while wakeboarding. and because she can't swim that well yet, everyone takes turns letting her sit on their shoulders. maybe also something cute with reader and luke while the boys take care of her??? love your work!!

pair: dad!luke hughes x f!reader

genre: fluff, family, slice of life, domestic.

warnings: none (unless extreme cuteness counts).

summary: every summer, the hughes family gathers at quinn’s lake house and this year is no different, except now lucy, your four-year-old daughter with luke, is old enough to make real memories. when luke falls off the wakeboard during a family day on the boat, luce panics, leading to a cascade moments with her uncles and a tender lakeside moment between you and luke.

fia’s note: okay, here’s another dad!luke hughes fic for you all! in this one, instead of calling jack ‘uncle jack,’ luce gives him the nickname ‘uncle rowdy’ because, of course, she thinks it’s the funniest way to tease him. even if she doesn’t always act super sweet around jack, she still loves her uncle a lot (just… maybe not as much as uncle quinny, sorry jack 🫣). i really hope you all enjoy this one! and if you ever want to yap about dad!luke or any of the players, my inbox is always open!. also to all of my mid/plus-size luke girlies out there, and for anyone who’s looking for more luke x mid/plus-size reader content, i actually opened a separate blog just for that! 🥹 i’ll be posting all my fics for that theme over at @voicemailfromluke-beep, so feel free to check it out.

tagging team fia ! — @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @dancerbailey3 @mashmashi @hopefulsuitcasemoneyzonk @kell9rs @alwaysclassyeagle @nokiaholland @macka @silvenyy

fia’s masterlist | join fia’s taglist | fic discussion | fia's nav.

“Daddy! Snoopy! Guess what!”

Lucy’s came running on socked feet, nearly slipping on the hardwood in Quinn’s lake house kitchen as she skidded to a stop in front of Luke. You were pouring juice into her pink thermos with a smiling Snoopy sticker on it, while Luke bent down, catching her mid-jump into his arms.

“What, baby?”

Luke asked, grinning as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“I saw a fishy outside! It went like zoom!” She flung her arm out dramatically,

“And I think it was tryin’ to talk to me, Snoopy. Maybe it said hi.”

“Really? A talking fish? You’re special, Luce?” he replied, raising his eyebrows.

“I am very special,” she nodded, dead serious, poking his nose.

“And I need you to be very brave today, Daddy. ‘Cause I’m gonna watch you do the fly board thing.”

“Wakeboard,”

You corrected gently, laughing under your breath as you handed Lucy her thermos.

“Yeah! Wakeboard! But no fallin’, ‘kay? ’Cause I’m little and I don’t like when you fall.”

Her voice dropped, suddenly serious as her little brows furrowed.

Luke scooped her up, kissing her cheek.

“I promise I’ll be super careful for you, Luce.”

It was a tradition now, every summer at Quinn’s lake house.

The first time you came, you were newly married. The second, you were pregnant. The third, Lucy was just learning to walk. Now, four summers in, your daughter had her own bedroom in the house with hand-drawn ‘Peanuts’ characters on the walls (a surprise Quinn had organized with a local artist after Lucy’s first birthday.)

Quinn, Jack, Luke, and you had packed the boat that morning, snacks, sunscreen, floaties, towels, and of course, Lucy’s pink life jacket with sparkly hearts. It barely fit her anymore, but she refused to wear anything else.

You got her into her swimsuit early, layering a t-shirt over it just in case the wind picked up on the water. She was practically vibrating with excitement, hopping up and down on the deck while the boys prepped the wakeboard gear.

“Careful, Luce,” you warned playfully.

“You bounce any harder and you’ll launch off the dock.”

She stopped to point dramatically at her father, who was already climbing into the water.

“Look! Snoopy’s gonna do his slidey dance!”

Luke stood on the board, grinning back at her.

“Slidey dance, huh?”

Lucy nodded solemnly, arms crossed. “Just don’t fall, ‘kay? I don’t like when you fall.”

It was all going great… until, of course, Luke did fall.

You felt it instantly. The shift in your daughter’s joy. One second she was squealing with delight, sitting backwards on your lap with her arms wrapped around your neck, and the next the moment Luke hit the water with a splash, and she stiffened.

Her face turned into your shoulder, her little voice muffled.

“Snoopy fell. Mommy, he fell!”

“It’s okay, baby,” you cooed softly, rocking her.

“He always falls. That’s part of the fun.”

But she sniffled, and you heard it, very small, building cry of someone overwhelmed by love and fear.

“I don’t like it when Snoopy’s gone under. What if he doesn’t come up?”

“He’s already up,”

You murmured, turning her head gently toward the sound of Luke’s voice as he climbed back on the boat.

“Look, he’s waving.”

“Luce, I’m okay!” Luke called.

“Promise. Wanna come swim with me and uncles?”

She hesitated, eyes still glistening, until you crouched to zip up her life jacket.

“Daddy’s in the water now, and guess what? Uncle Jack and Uncle Quinn are going down there too. If you go in, you’ll have all your silly boys in one place.”

Lucy wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“Can I go on Uncle Quinny’s shoulders?”

“Of course.”

You handed her down to Luke, who whispered something to her that made her giggle mid-sniffle, and then she was splashing around between all three Hughes boys, each taking turns letting her sit on their shoulders like royalty. Jack tried to do flips with her, but she screamed everytime and clung to Quinn like a koala.

Meanwhile, on the boat…

Luke flopped down beside you, shirtless, damp, exhausted, and grinning.

“I survived,” he said, leaning over to kiss your temple.

“Barely.”

“She was really scared,” you murmured.

“I know,” he replied.

“That’s why I let her be with them for a bit. Give her a chance to feel brave with her uncles.”

You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“And you wanted an excuse to cuddle me.”

“Also true.”

Luke pulled out his phone, the two of you squishing your heads together for a salty, sunlit selfie.

“By the way,” he said casually.

“I was thinking… Paris. For your birthday.”

You blinked. “Paris-Paris?”

Luke’s smirk curled. “Actually, without Lucy.”

“Without?”

“I miss just us. Don’t get me wrong, I love our girl more than anything. You know we sneak away. Just you and me.”

“…A proper couple’s trip. I love her more than life, but I miss us. I want to drink wine with you on a balcony and maybe…”

His hand gently rubbed over your belly.

“Make Lucy a sibling.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re trying to seduce me with the Eiffel Tower?”

“It’s working, isn’t it?”

“Gosh, Luke Hughes, you’re so funny.”

When the sun was down and the boat docked, Lucy was already snuggled in a towel in Quinn’s arms, licking a watermelon ice cream cone.

“Thank you, Uncle Quinny,” she said sweetly, then turned to Jack.

“You can’t have a lick. You made fun of my Snoopy.”

“Oh—I’m sorry,” Jack pouted.

“Nope,” she said with a shrug.

“You not sorry enough, Uncle Rowdy.”

Ellen and Jim met you at the dock, having just arrived. Lucy bolted into their arms the moment her feet hit land.

“Nana! Papa!” she squealed.

“My little Luce!” Ellen cried. “Did you have fun?”

Lucy nodded, launching into a chaotic, breathless retelling.

“Snoopy fell! It was scary! But Uncle Quinny gave me ice cream, and I didn’t cry a lot, just a little, and then I was brave and then I got on Uncle Rowdy head but I ‘accidentally’ pulled his hair, Nana, but he teased my Snoopy so it was fair.”

You, Luke, and the brothers stood nearby, watching her perform like a little storyteller on a stage, and Luke’s hand found yours.

“She’s turning into the best parts of both of us,” he murmured.

You smiled, threading your fingers with his.

“No,” you said.

“She’s turning into herself. We’re just the lucky ones who get to love her.”

[letsyapthenightaway]

The Hockey Boys x Plus size!Reader

TikTok Trends

Quinn Hughes - "Give a Bitch Some Head Or Something"

He would have the biggest smirk on his face. Is caught off guard for like a second before he's doing that smirk laugh he does. He'd pull you closer and have a sly "bet?" To him. Idk how this fandom decided he's munch but apparently so. Makes some kind of comment after the TikTok "so...can I really?"

Jack Hughes - "Somebody point me to the best ass eater"

There's 2 ways this can go. He's 100% for the TikTok and he exaggerates like crazy. Just a joyful Jack that is cracking up by the end. Would rewatch it with the biggest smile "I look so crazy" Or He just stands there shaking his head then walks away. He is NOT about to do this trend with you. "No, that's not happening"

Luke Hughes - "No one would hear you scream"

Stands there for a second "Babe what did you say?" Has the most confused face to him as he side eyes you. "What are you going to do? I'm taller, stronger, and quicker" Lowkey thinks of escape routes. Your plus size and he's your boyfriend he knows your stamina, he knows how far he'll get. Once in the car he scuffs and shakes his head with a small laugh.

Nico Hischier - "Damn I'm so hungry I could eat a BF"

Has the most sheepish smile and laughs. Rubs the back of his neck "Really?" I wanna say he'd try to pull you closer (specifically by the thighs idk I just feel like he'd drag you closer by them with a grip) then notice your phone. Slightly disappointed it's for a TikTok but I can also Lowkey picture him saying the same thing back but with GF. You owe him and he's sly he'll get it.

Matt Rempe - "Jacked and kind"

Everyone agrees this would be the trend for him? He'd agree so quickly! He can pick you up and flex his muscles while at it? Yes. Honestly might offer this TikTok to you, it wasn't your idea. You had seen it and liked it but were nervous because of your size. You knew Matt was strong but it was simple quick pick ups. With that one he'd have to actually hold and lift. But he's confident and would Lowkey guilt you into it "come on babe! Wouldn't it be so cute? We can be one of those cute couples"

Connor Berdard - " H.S.K.T By LeeHi"

He's so awkward during the filming that it's adorable. Fans notice how stiff he is but the way he admires you is so cute! It took him a GOOD minute to figure the trend out and what he needed to do. Honestly feel like he'd make sure you're the center fixing your outfit, hair, and stepping back more than necessary. At the end he either pulls you in close by the waist or lets you pull him in for a kiss.

[paladin--strait]

welcome home

luke hughes x mid-size/plus-size!reader

description: luke can't help but adore your chubby body, the way his jersey clings to you when you wear it, just like his other shirts that you throw on just to wear around the house.

-

luke watches silently as i dance around the kitchen, throwing my arms up in the air, making luke's shirt that i'm wearing tug just barely up to my hips as i sway to the song i'm singing, my pretty underwear on display.

this is the type of thing luke looks forward to see the most when he comes home from a game, a roadie, or even practice when he saw me just a few hours prior. he leans against the wall, waiting for me to notice his presence. once i finally turn around with my eyes open long enough, it makes him laugh as i practically jump out of my skin, finally figuring out that i'm not alone anymore.

he walks towards me while i cut off the music, a smile on both of our faces as he wraps his arms around my chubby waist, tugging me close to him as he looks down at me. luke's face displays pure adoration and happiness, a silent plea for me to never change.

he wraps his arms around my neck, hugging me tight and smiling as he feels my arms wrap around his waist. i quietly speak, "welcome home, my love...i cooked about an hour ago. i can heat it up for you if you want?"

i can feel luke nod against the top of my head, letting go of me as i make my way around the kitchen, putting the food back in the oven and turning it on, letting it warm up.

luke eyes my chubby thighs when i cut on the oven light, bending over to watch the food bubble alive with heat through the little window, smiling wider at a little laugh that leaves my throat at the sight of a large cheese bubble. he walks over to me quietly, surprising me with a loud smack to the ass that makes me yelp.

i turn, looking up at him with a small smile and a laugh. he hears his name leave my lips, making him pull me close again as he waits for his food to finish heating up.

needless to say, luke will love me no matter how i look. he adores everything about me and the way my plush body molds against his when be pulls me close will always be a plus.