#nhl fic

[scelebrini]

heyyyy girl i can’t remember if i sent a request to you or another account. i think it should be signed “thxxx” if it’s not to much of a hassle would you be able to let me know if it’s there and what the request was!? thank you queen🫶🫶

you didn’t!!!

[deepvend]

fraser minten and his five love languages

request: "could you maybe write about fraser minten but how he would treat a girl if he had diffrent love languages (gifts, quality time etc.)?" warnings: a few suggestive references (no actual smut) wc: 2.7k note: anon i owe you everything i have because this is one of my favourite fics ive ever written 🥹 hope it’s how you envisioned! it’s a little different than my usual format <3

words of affirmation

one thing fraser took great pride in was his ability to communicate. he had always felt incredibly glad to have grown up in a household where everyone’s feelings were always laid out on the table, and gratefulness was amongst the first principles he’d been taught.

whether it was in wholesome contexts or more unholy ones, whenever he spoke a word of praise towards you, which happened fairly often throughout the day, your brain turned into straight mush.

once you did something as easy as mixing up the salad at dinner while he handled the main course. he ended up humming with the morsel still in his mouth, saying you’d done so well and put just the right amount of salt. it was nothing, really, but his honeyed voice dripping with sweetness reached your heart.

the way he thanked you for every smallest thing, like taking out the trash or putting his toothbrush back in its spot made you feel loved, with a purpose.

when he came home from practice to find you leaned over a stack of books, eyes reddened and tired-looking after god knows how long you’d spent there, he didn’t question it. he didn’t force you away, he didn’t impose what he thought was right for you.

all fraser did was take a seat next to you, wrap his arm around you and pull you into a hug that you gladly sank into, face falling against the soft fabric of his sweater.

“you got this, sweet girl,” he whispered against the crown of your hair, pressing a small kiss there. “you’re the smartest person i know.”

taking a break felt easier, the weight and pressure and fear of failure lifted off your chest. and when all your hard work had eventually turned into an academic success, he celebrated with you by showering you in praise.

“i’m so proud of you, knew you had this in the bag.”

on another occasion, a few days deep into the first vacation at the beach you went on together, fraser’s mouth moved around the words before he could stop it.

“you look so stunning right now, baby.” he said, watching you step out of the bedroom.

his fingers traced the thin lines that marked the spots where the straps of your top had once been. your skin was golden, your cheeks were sun-kissed and flushed red. you were adorable, and fraser felt like he would die if he ever failed to remind you.

the red dress you had picked did nothing but emphasize how bronzy and glowy your skin was.

his arm instinctively wrapped around your waist and pulled you into him, in what could be described as a loose hug. his lips pressed right on the high point of your shoulder, breath tickling you and eliciting a giggle from you.

“stop it, you’re making me blush.”

“you’re adorable when you blush.” he muttered, lips still pressed against your skin. “you know how much i love you, right?”

“i might have an idea,” you chuckled, head leaning down to rest on his. “but never stop telling me.”

fraser listened to the sound. it was heavenly. his arm tightened and the other one followed suit, engulfing you in his hold. he wouldn’t have dreamed of stopping.

physical touch

the realization that having a direct form of contact with you was somewhere near a necessity hit fraser fairly early, two dates into what would have later bloomed into your relationship.

he hadn’t even meant to do it but, as he was driving you back home from the bar, his right hand left the gear stick and grazed your left thigh, half bare from your short skirt. he retracted his hand and apologized immediately, fearing he might have made you uncomfortable.

his eyes looked in your direction for a mere second, but you were sitting there smiling warmly at him. before his brain could register what was happening, your fingers wrapped around his palm and you moved his hand back on your thigh.

“keep it here,” you whispered, not wanting to interrupt the moment. “i like the way it feels.”

you liked the way it felt? fraser lived for the way it felt. for the light pressure of your hand over his, for your soft, tender skin under his palm, for your nails slowly and lightly scratching along his arm.

that moment was what started the exploring and tentative period where he would just try and touch you in any way he could, always making sure to check if something ever made you uneasy.

nothing fraser did in your company was ever flashy, or exaggerated, attention-attracting in any way. whether in public or in private, that was an unspoken rule between the two of you. but, there were always some parts of you touching, like magnets.

whenever you were out with friend and family it was his hand gently draped over your shoulder as you talked about something, your fingers intertwined and moving along each other’s hands under the table at dinner, or sitting so close your thighs were glued together and not making any effort to move further away.

in the quiet of your four walls it was his soft hand pressed against your stomach under your shirt, his thumb rubbing slow circles onto your delicate skin, you leniently running your nails through his disheveled curls, most times all leading to you wrapped around each other, skin to skin under the covers.

his favourite moments were in the kitchen, while you cooked together. well, while you cooked and he watched, occasionally leaning over and engulfing you into an unexpected, much appreciated embrace.

you were chopping up some vegetables on the counter, hands too busy to reach back and stroke his hair the way you always did.

“hug me back.” he whined about your lack of touching, drawing out the words.

you sighed, breath huffing your little chuckle as you placed the knife on the cutting board and dried your hands on the kitchen towel, before spinning around in his hold. his big hands found the small of your back, pushing you into him as if you weren’t way past each other’s personal space.

“you’re such a baby.” you mumbled against his lips, standing on your tiptoes just enough to press a quick peck there.

his warm breath fanned across your collarbones as his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, arms wrapping around your waist lazily, like it was a reflex. probably, it was.

“as long as i can get you like this, i’ll let you call me just about anything.”

receiving gifts

fraser had never really been one to enjoy gifts: he always felt awkward on his birthday and christmas day, when his family gathered to celebrate and hand him presents. he’d learned throughout the years that those presents were either useful equipment he needed for hockey or things that had nothing to do with him — anonymous gestures that screamed ‘here, i spent some money on you just to not come empty handed.’

that changed when you came around, drastically and unexpectedly.

he didn’t pay any particular mind to it at first when you showed up to his apartment with a cup of coffee for him, with the precise amount of milk and sugar he always went for. he thanked you, pressed a tender kiss to your cheek and went on with his day.

then, just a few days later, you’d called him and told him you were all done with your hike and could hang out together if he’d liked. when he drove over to pick you up, you got into his car with a wide, toothy grin and your hands behind your back.

“whatcha got there?” he inquired softly, corner of his lips pulling up at your joyous attitude.

“picked something up for you. close your eyes.”

he did what you asked, lids fluttering shut while he heard the fabric of your shirt shuffling with your movements. then, when you tapped on his shoulder to regain his attention, his eyes flew back open.

your right hand was outstretched towards him, fingers softly wrapped around the stem of a yellow daffodil. you could see clearly the way his expression shifted from curiosity to something sweet, soft, loving.

his smile widened, eyes drifting from you to the magnificent flower in your hand. “thank you, baby, you’re the sweetest.”

you shrugged quietly, leaning back into the leather seat. “my favourite flower for my favourite boy.”

it was right there and then that it hit him. he loved that you were thinking about him so often, showing it through these little gestures. it felt deliberate, intentional, every little thing you brought him was meaningful in a way or another. it made fraser feel known, seen.

everytime you showed up to his place unannounced with his favourite dessert, everytime you brought him old thrifted books that you remembered were the genre he was into lately, everytime you came back from a trip abroad a took a souvenir that reminded you of him, fraser fell more and more in love with you and your mind.

quality time

every single moment fraser got to share with you was something he treasured deeply, in a way that made him trace back the day just spent whenever he laid into bed at night.

he loved when you two went out to get coffee and sat down at a table, talking about your days and everything that had happened, recalling old memories and sharing stories from your past. he loved going on walks along wood trails, listening to you mention the documentaries you had watched and how surreal it felt to see new animals with your own eyes.

he wanted to be with you every chance he got. not in a clingy, worrying and claiming way, he just felt the most at ease when you were at his side. when his teammates proposed going for drinks, he reserved a place for you next to him before you could even walk through the door.

he called you once, early in the morning, while you were still half asleep and tangled in your sheets.

“are you doing anything? i’m about to drive past your house but i thought i could come and say hi.”

you sat up straighter, free hand rubbing your eyes in an attempt at pushing the sleepiness out of you. “don’t you have practice right now?”

“i’m a few minutes early and i want to see you.”

when he knocked on the door, you opened up to find him standing there with breakfast in hand, a content smirk splayed over his face. you realized that he hadn’t accidentally left home early for practice, but he’d meant to come over all along.

on the occasions where you were busy with friends for the evening, he always insisted on driving you and picking you up. you thought he was just thoughtful, considerate, but the truth was that even those ten minutes he got with you alone in the car turned his entire day upside down.

he loved hearing you next to him singing along to songs he would usually deem bothersome. he loved when you looked over at him, batting your beautiful eyes and leaning over to kiss him goodbye before getting out of the car. he loved the way you wrapped yourself around him and went all in for hugs when he came to get you, fruity cocktail strong in your breath, kissing him like you’d spent ages apart.

he entered your living room one friday evening, equipment bag still slung on his shoulder. he could barely suppress a grin. “pack a bag for the weekend.”

“i’m sorry?” you asked doubtfully, lowering the book in your hands until it rested on your lap.

“i’m taking you somewhere. bring some light clothes.”

“that’s… mysterious.” you observed, and he just shrugged.

that warm spring weekend was spent in a beachside small resort that fraser had managed to book without you finding out about it. he’d drove the two of you a couple of hours away from the city and to the coast, which was quiet and pleasant and everything you needed.

“why here?” you asked that night, as you got ready for bed while staring at the slow waves softly crashing against the shore outside your window.

“you love the beach, and i love being with you and watching you happy.”

the look of pure adoration you gave him, and the long conversation about memories from family holidays on the seaside that followed you two into bed was one of the dearest things to fraser.

acts of service

anything that could help make your life easier immensely interested fraser. you barely had to mention having to pick up something, or having an errand to run, before he could go and take care of it for you before you realized it.

the occasions when you’d wake up from a nap to a text that said ‘just filled up your tank’ or ‘i took care of the oil change, don’t worry about it’ weren’t sparse. they were actually so continuous it almost felt like a habit.

what stuck with fraser, despite the frequency of times he handled chores for you, was how joyous and deeply grateful you were towards him every single time.

you’d smother him with kisses, keeping him into a bone-crashing hug for as long as your muscles let you, thanking him what seemed to him like a thousand times. the more he told you that you didn’t need to say ‘thank you’, that it was a pleasure for him to ease off some of that everyday pressure from you, you just said it more and more.

there were obviously boundaries that fraser didn’t dare to step on, like snooping through your drawers or your closets to organize things for you when you complained about not finding some of your belongings.

every other little thing that he could do personally to raise some workload off of you was on the table.

like the one time you were on the couch and saw him walk into your apartment with your laptop under his arm. you shot him an inquisitive look, eyes darting between his steady face and the computer while he set it down onto the coffee table.

he looked at you like nothing had happened, with a barely visible little smile. “you mentioned your laptop being slow lately, no?”

“yeah, no, i did.” you nodded briefly, brows still furrowed as he wandered into the kitchen.

“so, i have a friend that’s good with that stuff and i asked him to fix it.”

his voice was nearly flat, in a way that you couldn’t quite understand. your heart was fluttering in your chest because of his attentive gesture and he was rummaging through the fridge in search of a snack.

you stood up and made your way to where he was standing, arms wrapping around his middle from behind. you pressed a kiss right above his shoulder blade, then rested your cheek flat against him.

“thank you so much but you didn’t have to, baby. i was going to sit down and figure it out.”

he shifted slightly, turning in your hold to grab your face in his hands. “i see smoke coming out of your ears everytime you even open the settings on that thing.”

“you’re bullying me.”

“‘m not,” he hummed, tip of his nose rubbing against your own before placing a kiss there. “i just worry about you.”

likewise, you woke up later than usual one morning to a little sticky note attached to the fridge. it said ‘morning sleepy girl! i took care of those dishes for you, breakfast is in the pantry. love you, fras.’

when he came back home you ran across the hallway and threw yourself in his arms, nearly knocking him off his feet. he steadied himself with a hand against the wall, his free arm tightened around you while your lips pressed insistently against every inch of skin you could reach.

“woah, hey there!” he wheezed, hands running down your back. “what’s up with you?”

“thank you for this morning. i love you so much.” you mumbled between kisses, lips trailing along his jaw.

he smiled against your hair, hold growing stronger around your frame. “i love you more, my sweetest girl.”

[scelebrini]

kaner worshipping his partner's body sexually (or the other way around if you'd like!)

PK88.||patrick kane.

smut.

patty loves his gf body.

“Mmm,” I wiggled around in the middle of mine and Patrick’s king-size bed, his hands gripping my hips as his lips kissed my stomach.

“You’re so hot,” he said, pulling away, looking at my naked body under him.

His hands gripped my boobs, squeezing lightly. “Perfect tits, so round and full,” he said, licking my nipple and sucking teasingly as he massaged them.

“Patty,” I whined, and he continued.

“And look at this tummy.” His fingertips brushed over my skin before his mouth attached, and he left slow, wet kisses on it, making me whimper.

“Oh, and your tiny hands.” He sucked on my finger before pulling it out, tapping on my thigh. “Turn over, baby, let me assess your ass,” he said softly, and I rolled over for him.

His hands gripped my ass, kneading, making my back arch. “Good girl, arch for me,” he said, and I listened, doing exactly as told.

“Mmm, pussy so pretty and pink.” He blew on it, making me shiver.

“Please,” I cried, wanting him to touch me so bad.

“You want my cock, baby?” he asked, and I whined.

“Okay, needy girl,” he said, laying me down on my back again.

“Open your legs for me, let me see,” he said, and as I opened my legs, his thumb rubbed my clit as he slid inside, my moans filling the room, and he fucked me so nicely.

“You’re so pretty, everything about you,” he said as he panted a bit, and I nodded.

“Mmm, ugh, uh,” I moaned, the knot in my stomach already forming.

“Do I feel you clenching around me?” he asked, and I nodded as I came with a loud moan.

idc what anyone says i love patty.

[scelebrini]

could you please write more mack lactation kink but like… fluff hurt/comfort vibe though.

Like maybe mack is feeling like a baby or being insecure about enjoying it, so he tells reader he wants to stop and she agrees, but it gets super hard for him not to and he gets really sad about it and reader comforts him and lets him do it?

Sorry if thats confusing lol

MC71.||macklin celebrini.

fluff.

mack wanting to stop nursing.

“Baby,” Macklin said, playing nervously with his fingers as I looked up at him from the couch.

“Yes, love?” I replied gently.

He let out a heavy sigh before speaking. “Um, I think I should stop using your boob now, because I’m 20 now, and I’m not a baby.” He said, hesitating and biting down hard on his knuckles.

I nodded slowly. “Okay, you can stop.”

His face instantly went pale, and the familiar flush of his rosacea flared bright red across his cheeks. “O-okay, yeah… because it’s embarrassing,” he stammered, nodding stiffly.

I decided to just go along with it, keeping my voice soft. “Whatever you want, Mackie,” I smiled.

He shuffled over and sat beside me on the cushions. “Um, y-yeah,” he muttered, his eyes drifting to the television. He went quiet for a long moment, the only sound being the muted hum of the show, before he spoke up again in a small, miserable whisper. “I—uh—I didn’t want you to agree.”

He shoved his knuckle right back into his mouth, sucking on it softly with a whimper.

“Well, it’s up to you, my love. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don't want to,” I said, turning fully to look at him.

He nodded rapidly, his lower lip trembling. “Yes, but I don’t want to stop,” he pouted, tears welling up in his eyes.

I couldn't help the gentle giggle that escaped my lips. “Well, why would you say that you wanted to, then?” I asked, tilting my head.

He shrugged miserably, his shoulders hunching. “So I could feel strong… but I’m not strong. I’m a baby, and I don’t want to stop.”

With a soft sigh, I reached out and gently removed his wet, chewed-on knuckle from his mouth, wiping his damp chin with my thumb.

“Do you want some milky, sweet boy?” I asked softly.

At the question, a few stray tears spilled over his lashes, and he nodded eagerly. He practically launched himself forward, clinging to me desperately as he buried his face against my chest and latched on.

I wrapped my arms securely around him, pulling him flush against my body. “You’re such a big baby,” I murmured fondly, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of his head and rubbing soothing circles into his back as he nursed softly and let out a contented sigh.

i know you guys love these hahah.

[scelebrini]

Hi, could you do one for will smith, where he has a breeding kink, and a reader who absolutely doesn't want kids/to get pregnant? Thank you!

WS2.||will smith.

smut.

will has a breeding kink.

“Oh, fuck... mmmguh,” Will moaned as he thrusted in and out of me. I gripped his back, scratching at his skin, acutely worried that he was going to cum soon—and I knew he wouldn't pull out.

Will loved cuming inside me, and I hated it. I didn’t want to get pregnant, and I honestly didn’t really want kids either. Condoms weren't really an option for him because he always complained that "it just wasn't the same."

“Baby... oh, ugh,” he moaned again. I nodded, looking up at him already knowing what was coming.

“Pull out,” I whispered urgently, tapping his shoulder. He just shook his head.

“Will, please pull out,” I whined, my voice cracking with rising panic. But instead of an answer, I got a soft whimper, followed immediately by the undeniable, heavy warmth of liquid filling me right up.

“Ugh... mmm... ugh,” he groaned, his entire body jolting with the aftershocks. I stayed completely still underneath him, numb with frustration.

A moment later, he pulled out, and I immediately pushed him off and got up, rushing to the bathroom to shower, desperately trying to clean everything out as fast as I could. When I finally walked back into the bedroom, towel-dried and tense, he looked up at me with a pathetic, practiced expression of guilt.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

I just nodded silently, pulling a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie on. “Yeah, you never can,” I said, a bitter, humorless smile touching my lips as I grabbed my car keys from the dresser.

“Where are you going? I said I’m sorry,” he protested, scrambling up from the bed. I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to stand right in front of him, staring him down.

“William, you know I don’t want kids, and you can't just refuse to use a condom and refuse to pull out. So I’m on my way to the pharmacy to buy a freaking Plan B,” I snapped.

He swallowed hard, looking chastised but panicked. “I’m coming with you.”

He grabbed his sneakers and jacket to follow me out the door, and I just let out a sharp, exhausted sigh, nodding because I was too tired to argue, yet entirely annoyed by the whole mess.

kinda different then what i normally write.

[scelebrini]

hey! babes you’re out here doing the lord’s work. your writing is impeccable and lord knows i love a submissive man <3

anyhowwww i saw you added ryan leonard to your list and i got cookin. could you write one where reader is friends with benefits with ryan and he’s upset (about something idk) and needs comfort, but he’s scared to open up to her because they’re supposed to be a casual hookup thing?

(& then when he does finally break down in front of reader, she just loves on him and kisses it better.) it can be a little spicy/smutty too if you want, I love some feel better sex. hope that made sense/wasn’t too long, take as much time & creative freedom as you will!

<3 ~ mitsy or caf ☕️

RL9.||ryan leonard.

fluff.

ryan cries to his fwb.

“hi ryan,” I said softly, pushing open his bedroom door. He had texted me about twenty minutes ago asking me to come over, and without a second thought, I had immediately gotten into my car and driven across town.

“hi,” he replied in a tone I had never heard from him before. We usually kept things casual—mostly hooking up, occasionally grabbing brunch, or just passing the time. But I had never seen him look so utterly defeated.

“what’s wrong?” I asked, lingering near the foot of his bed.

He just shrugged, his shoulders heavy. “bad day,” he muttered.

I nodded, noting the tight, defensive set of his jaw. “you told me to come over,” I prompted gently, climbing onto the mattress and moving to sit beside him. My hand instinctively slid across his stomach, but he immediately caught my wrist and pushed it away.

“don’t want to have sex,” he said, biting his lip nervously, refusing to meet my eyes.

I pulled my hand back, blinking in surprise, though my confusion quickly melted into concern. “okay, that’s fine.”

“I’m sorry I called you. I just... I wanted to be with somebody,” he murmured, staring down and anxiously fidgeting with his fingers.

“don’t be sorry, it’s okay,” I said, shifting closer to rub a soothing circle into his arm.

“it’s just... you’re kind of the closest person that I have here who won’t judge me, and I just wanted some comfort.” His voice cracked sharply on the last word, and my stomach dropped as I watched his eyes well up with heavy tears.

“oh, ryan, come here,” I whispered, opening my arms and pulling him against my chest. He broke down completely, burying his face in my shoulder as silent sobs wracked his frame. I held him tight, pressing soft kisses to his hair and murmuring that everything was going to be okay.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out between breaths, his hands clutching weakly at the fabric of my shirt. “you thought I called you here for sex, and now I’m just... I’m just sitting here crying.”

“no, ryry , it’s okay. Listen to me,” I said, pulling back just enough to look into his tear-stained face, my hands framing his cheeks. “I don’t just see you as sex. You’re so much more than that to me.”

His breath hitched at the words, and a fresh wave of emotion crossed his features before he buried his face in my neck again. I wrapped my arms securely around his waist, rubbing his back in slow, rhythmic circles.

I gently rocked us from side to side, whispering sweet nothings into his hair, letting him lean all his heavy weight against me until the storm of his emotions finally began to pass.

We stayed like that for a long time in the quiet room, the tension slowly draining out of his muscles. When he was finally ready, he pulled back, wiping his palms awkwardly over his face.

I reached up, my thumb gently brushing away the lingering moisture from his cheeks, before leaning in to place a tender, lingering kiss on his lips. He sat in the quiet aftermath, just looking at me with a soft, bewildered vulnerability in his eyes.

“thank you,” he said softly, his voice still rough and laced with lingering nerves.

I smiled, offering him a reassuring squeeze of his hand. “you’re welcome, ryan. I’ll always be here for you.”

A small, genuine smile finally touched the corners of his mouth, and he nodded, visibly lighter. “let’s get something to eat,” he suggested, his stomach letting out a small rumble that broke the remaining tension.

“sounds like a plan,” I said, standing up and holding out my hand to pull him up with me.

i’m horrible at titles if you couldn’t tell.

[hockeygirlyyyy]

could you write reader and luke hughes have been friends for like two years or so and honestly they're strictly just friends until like has a bad game and it resting his head on readers lap while she's playing with his curls and he starts to get hard so he presses kisses up her thighs and it leads to them having sex!!

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, teasing, kissing, tit obsessed.

You and Luke had been friends for a while, you'd been with him through the good and the bad. And tonight had been the bad, Luke turned the puck over numerous times and got benched during the third so he was very upset when he came over. He'd immediately laid his head in your lap a signal that he wanted you to play with his hair and you had felt all the tension leave his body once you started playing with his hair.

Luke let out a soft groan as he felt himself getting hard, "Y/N" he says.

"Yeah Lukey?" you ask

Luke doesn't answer as he kisses your inner thighs, you moan softly as he nibbles on your thigh.

"Can I fuck you please?" He begs

"Yes please" you say. Luke removes your pants and pulls his pants down far enough to free his cock before pulling your panties to the side and smacking your clit with the tip of his dick.

"So wet for me" he says kissing your neck.

"Lukey" you whine.

"Patience baby" Luke says as he slowly inserts his cock causing you both to moan loudly. Luke pushes your shirt up so he can see your tits as he begins moving slowly.

"Lukey faster please" you say.

Luke groans before he begins thrusting in and out of you at a fast pace, "Fuck so tight" Luke watches your tits bounce with every thrust, "Fuck you have such beautiful tits."

"Luke" you moan as he finds your g-spot. He reaches down and starts circling your clit, "Cum for me baby."

You moan before cumming all over his cock, Luke groans as he feels you clenching around him. He thrusts a few more times before stilling inside you and filling you up with a groan.

"You okay?" He asks as he pulls out.

"Yes I'm okay" you say.

He helps you upstairs and to the shower before treating you to another orgasm.

[scelebrini]

could you do like subby mack who come homes drunk and he just wants you but like make it fluff if you can! love your work 🤍

MC71.||macklin celebrini.

fluff.

macklin coming home drunk and clingy.

The doorbell rang sharply, piercing through the quiet of the night at around 1:00 AM. Groggily, I pushed the covers back, padded across the hardwood floor, and unlocked the front door. Standing on the porch were Will and Macklin, illuminated by the porch light.

“Oh, hi guys,” I smiled, letting out a soft sigh of relief.

Macklin immediately reached his arms out for me, a sleepy, affectionate grin spreading across his face.

Will chuckled, holding Macklin steady by the shoulder. “I brought your man back safe and sound. He might have drank a bit too much tonight, but I swear he’s in one piece.”

“Thank you so much, Will. I'll see you tomorrow—unless you want to crash in the guest room?” I offered, eyeing the late hour.

Will shook his head, offering a reassuring smile. “No, it’s okay, I'm completely sober and ready to head home. Have a good night!”

With a quick wave, he turned and headed down the steps. I shut the heavy front door and locked it behind him. Instantly, Macklin wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, burying his face and resting his head comfortably on my shoulder.

“Hi, love,” I whispered softly, gently rocking us side to side in the entryway. I smoothed my hand down his back, soothing the tension away.

“Help,” he mumbled against my collarbone, pulling back just enough to tug clumsily at the zipper of his jacket.

“I've got you,” I murmured, helping him shrug out of the jacket. I tossed it neatly over the back of the couch before guiding him down the hallway toward our bedroom.

As soon as we reached the edge of the mattress, Macklin slumped down, his eyelids heavy. “Baby, hug me. Don’t go,” he whined, catching my wrist as I bent down to untie his sneakers.

“I'm right here, look. I'm just taking your shoes off,” I coaxed, slipping his shoes off one by one, followed by his socks. I gave his tired feet a gentle rub.

“Mmmm,” he sighed, his whole body relaxing backward onto the comforter at the soothing touch.

I let out a soft giggle, standing up and heading over to the dresser. “Let’s get you changed out of these stiff clothes, please.”

Before I could even pull a drawer open, Macklin was stumbling up behind me like a lost puppy. “Wait for me,” he whined, instantly looping his arms securely around my waist, needing to keep physical contact at all costs.

I turned around in his embrace. “What would you like to sleep in tonight?”

He blinked slowly, a mischievous little smile playing on his lips. “I want to sleep in you,” he announced, puckering his lips earnestly.

I pressed a quick, affectionate kiss to his mouth while reaching into the drawer for a soft cotton hoodie and a pair of boxers. “As great as that sounds, we’re going to have to save that for another night, okay, bubs?” I gently guided him backward until the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress.

He nodded compliantly, letting me do the heavy lifting of peeling off his heavy jeans and pulling the comfortable hoodie over his head. Once he was dressed, he immediately scrambled under the covers—though he promptly claimed my side of the bed.

“I want to sleep here,” he declared, burrowing his face deep into my pillow. “It smells like you.”

I stood by the bedside, unable to suppress a fond smile. “Okay, baby, stay right there. I'm just going to turn off the hall light.”

I flipped the wall switch, plunging the room into darkness, and slipped into bed on his usual side.

Macklin immediately propped himself up on one elbow, pouting dramatically in the dim moonlight. “You're so far away.”

With a soft laugh, I opened my arms wide. “Come here, then.”

That was all the invitation he needed. He eagerly crawled right on top of me, settling his weight comfortably and tucking his face securely into the curve of my neck. His fingers found their way into my hair, gently tangling and untangling the strands as he played with them.

“Mmmm... I want a story,” he mumbled sleepily, his eyelids fluttering shut.

With a quiet smile, I began to weave a rambling, soothing tale, running my fingers through his hair until his breathing grew heavy and even, and he drifted off peacefully into a deep sleep.

be ready for a bunch of mack content.