#Loved this thank you so much ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[mosabsdr]

🚨 We Need Your Kindness to Survive 🚨

Hello, My name is Mosab, and I live in Gaza with my family. Life here has become harder than I ever imagined, and I’m writing this with hope in my heart that you might hear our story.

The ongoing war has devastated my family. We’ve lost 25 family members—each one a beloved part of our lives, taken too soon. I miss them deeply—their laughter, their presence, their love. Every day is a reminder of this unimaginable loss.

We are now facing daily challenges to survive—things that most people take for granted, like food, clean water, and a safe place to sleep. The harsh realities of life here have replaced our dreams with the constant fight for survival.

Our Current Situation:

💔 Lost Stability: The war has left us without work or a stable source of income.

📚 Dreams on Hold: Like so many here, my family’s dreams have been replaced by the need to simply survive.

😢 Unimaginable Loss: Losing 25 loved ones has left a void that can never be filled.

How You Can Help:

I’m sharing our story with the hope that someone out there might care. Even $10 can make a big difference for us, and if you’re unable to donate, just reblogging this post can help spread the word.

Your kindness, no matter how small, is something we’ll never forget.

What This Means to Us:

Your support is not about changing our entire situation—it’s about giving us a little relief, a little hope, and a way to keep going. We are not asking for much, and we understand if you can’t donate. Sharing our story is just as valuable to us as a donation.

Thank you for reading this far. It means the world to us to know that someone is listening. Your kindness gives us strength and helps us believe in a better tomorrow.

With all our gratitude,

Mosab and Family ❤️

[ditzydoe444]

Hey girlie love your writing can you do an ak verse normal jasons on eating pussy headcannons, thank you ❤️🎀

MDNI 18+

jason vs ak! jason eating you out ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

jason eating you out

• he would be more soft and gentle, savouring the way you taste and how you felt on his tongue. he would explore your gummy walls with his tongue and fingers making you scream and see stars. he ate you like a man who yearned, treating you like a prize and his dessert.

• he would make you come as much as you could, dragging out as many orgasms as possible. he loved the way you screamed his name and tugged his hair, feeling your legs squirm and move as he held them tightly boosted his ego.

• he would give you soft praises, mumbling words like ‘my pretty girl,’ ‘you taste so sweet,’ ‘all this for me sweetheart?’

• he would gently knead either the globes of your ass or your thighs depending on what position the two of you were in, savouring the soft feeling of your flesh on his rough calloused hands.

ak jason eating you out

• he ate you out like a man starved, his nails would dig into the flesh of your ass whilst his tongue explored your cunt. he savoured every single part, feeling you drench his face whilst he held you down tightly forcing you to take him.

• he would spit on your pussy as well, watching your hole clench around nothing before giving a harsh spit that makes you gasp.

• instead of giving soft praises it would be more derogatory, ‘my pretty little whore’ ‘you want to get eaten out that badly huh? what are you a slut?’

• he would eat you out for his own pleasure, but he wouldn’t admit it out loud. instead, he would make you work for it, forcing you to repeat his harsh words begging him. ‘say please eat my pretty little cunt sweet heart,’ jason cooed as he separated your legs roughly.

•it would also be free use anywhere as well, waking you up by eating you out, on the kitchen counter, watching tv … literally everywhere and anywhere he has no shame.

[trulyy-yourzz]

✿fluff - b.e x reader

I know we all need a little something to make us feel better (I'm still mourning😞), so as a fellow billie writer, and for the requests in my inbox, here you go my loves 💕 I hope you enjoyy. Mwa!

ʚɞ

Billie sat hunched on the edge of her bed, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She had just gotten back from the Grammy Awards, seeing all her friends and peers winning awards left and right while she came away with nothing. It stung more than she ever could have imagined. And she didn't expect it to.

There was a soft knock at her bedroom door before it opened, revealing you, her girlfriend. Billie looked up at you with a sad smile, trying to be strong even though she felt like crumbling inside.

"Hey, can I come in?" You asked softly, your voice filled with concern.

Billie nodded, wiping at her tear-stained cheeks. "Yeah, of course. I could use the company right now."

You entered the room and closed the door behind you. then making your way over to sit beside Billie on the bed. You wrapped a comforting arm around the singer's shoulders, pulling her close. "I'm so sorry about tonight, Bille. I know how much the Grammys meant to you," you murmured, rubbing your hand soothingly along Billie's arm.

Billie let out a shaky sigh, leaning into your touch. "I just...I don't get it. I poured my heart and soul into my album. I thought for sure I had a shot at winning something, anything really. But... nothing. It's like, what's the point?" Her voice cracked with emotion as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. You tightened her embrace, letting Billie cry into your shoulder.

"You can't think like that," you said firmly but kindly. "Your music means everything to so many people, including me. The fact that you didn't win an award doesn't diminish your talent or your impact."

Billie sniffled and pulled back to look at you with loving eyes. "You really mean that?"

You nodded, cupping Billie's face in your hands. "I do Billie, you're an incredible artist and an even more incredible person. Don't let one night or a silly little award define you or your career. Your album is beyond amazing."

Billie felt a small smile tug at her lips as she gazed into your earnest eyes. "Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You don't have to do anything without me," you said with a warm smile, cupping her cheek and leaning in to plant a soft kiss on her lips.

"We're in this together, love..."

°

°

°

Notes: screaming, crying, and throwing up!

That's all❤️

[rainydayathogwarts]

hi !! congrats on 3000🎉

i’d like to request an autumn - “this is going to sound controversial but i think that went well" with james potter please! thank you in advance❤️

Softening the blow - James Potter

ʀᴀɪɴʏᴅᴀʏᴀᴛʜᴏɢᴡᴀʀᴛꜱ' 3ᴋ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ!

summary: remus isn't the only one you accidentally expose your relationship to. lupin!reader wc: 0.9k+ gosh do i love myself a cyclical structure

James sighed, fingers twitching in a desperate attempt not to reach out to you, but you needed space, even if it were minimal. He cleared his throat, but still, you refused to meet his eyes. “This is going to sound controversial,” he started, and you raised your gaze up to look at him. Now he was forced to continue. “But I think that went well.” You squinted your eyes at him, scoffing in disagreement. With all the conversations and careful consideration you and James had taken to tell Remus, your protective werewolf brother, that you were dating, of course the truth was bound to come out in the worst way possible.

There was no softening the blow, there was no ‘Me and James have something to tell you’. No, there was just the reveal. You buttoned up the last two buttons of your shirt, shutting your eyes as you remembered the incident.

James had gotten you both distracted; it was his fault. You had insisted that your Potions essay needed finishing and like an idiot, you believed your boyfriend when he told you that you’d focus better in his dorm, where the loud chatter of the common room wouldn’t distract you. Of course, you’d gotten suspicious when he sat on his bed, patting the empty space next to him, but you obliged, oblivious to the way his eyes were instantly attracted to the sliver of skin that was revealed as your skirt rode up. James draped your legs over his, caressing your soft skin as you explained to him all the points you needed to include in your essay.

That was when the first warning sign appeared. James leaned in close to you, pressing a soft kiss on your lips and interrupting the words coming out of your mouth. You smiled sweetly at him, intertwining your fingers with his as you continued speaking. James leaned his head against the headboard, looking at you with so much love and admiration in his eyes, and he couldn’t resist the urge to kiss you again. “James.” A single call of his name was warning enough, but he ignored it. James knew that he wasn’t the only affectionate one in the relationship, and with just enough touch, you wouldn’t be able to resist him.

And he was right.

It only took two other kisses to your neck for you to begin chasing his lips with yours, a hand tightly gripping his shirt. God, were you bad at ignoring him. The shirt wrinkled under your hold and James brought a hand up to cup your cheek, moulding his lips with your parted ones. That’s when you knew you were done for. James’s shirt was off in seconds, leaving him in his trousers and tie, which you tugged on to bring him impossibly closer to you, tongue sliding against his. His large hands were gripping your thighs, using his strength to pull your body atop his, completely ignorant to the door knob turning on the other side of the room as he began unbuttoning your top.

Now, normally you and James weren’t so bold, however Remus had been gone for hours, and you were confident that he’d be gone for even longer. He made his rounds speaking to all his professors about upcoming assignments and catching up on missed lessons from the last full moon. However, when Remus reached Professor McGonagall’s office, he found her halfway out and on the way to the Gryffindor common room to look for Sirius Black. So like anyone would, he decided to walk with her. Discussing Sirius’s owl from home and Remus’s trouble with the newest piece of homework, the pair quickly made their way to the common room. That eradicated more or less half an hour of time for you and James to have the dorm to yourselves, secret kisses on the brink of revelation.

Unfortunately for you, Sirius was nowhere to be found so Remus, ever the gentleman, invited Professor McGonagall up to their dorm to check. The same dorm where his sister was currently making out with one of his best friends. Remus hadn’t seen it coming. Opening the door to the dorm, he only turned to look at what happened when he saw Professor McGonagall’s eyes widen, hearing her mutter “Oh dear” as she turned away from the sight.

Remus was silent, watching you turn on your boyfriend’s lap to look at him standing in the doorway. James had bit his lip to suppress the moan that had surfaced when you moved, but the sound was still heard in the small space. You gasped, rolling off James and desperately buttoning up the first few buttons of your shirt, leaving James to cover his chest with his hands. You didn’t have the heart to laugh at the ridiculous sight, because you not only had your brother caught you making out with his best friend, but so had the school’s deputy headmistress.

“Oh my god, I just showed Professor McGonagall my sister and best friend making out.” Remus cried, slapping a hand on his forehead. “Oh my god, my sister and best friend were making out!” And with that, the door slammed shut. You heard Remus’s hurried footsteps leading him away from the dorm, and probably towards Professor McGonagall, where he’d aimlessly attempt a weak apology before ranting to her about how he didn’t know about you. Slumping down on the bed next to James, you dug your face in your hands. You heard the shuffle of the covers as James sat up next to you, his fingers twitching in a desperate attempt not to reach out to you, but you needed space, even if it were minimal. He cleared his throat, but still, you refused to meet his eyes. “This is going to sound controversial, but I think that went well.”

taglist:

@ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @superlegend216, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl

[daeniradraconis]

I just read age is just a number and I loved it! I would love to see more with them as y/n meets Luke’s parents and friends and the anxiety that can come with that.

Also seeing y/n in the wag life as she seemed to not know they were NHL players!

❤️

Age Is Just a Number… Right? - Part 2.

Summary: Luke Hughes, 6 years younger, seems like the perfect match—effortless and sweet. But when the reality of family, friends, and public attention creeps in, the simplicity starts to fade, and things get more complicated than expected. Welcome to Part 2 of Age Is Just a Number...Right? Warnings: Implied sexual situations, age gap (6 years), online harassment, bullying Note: Hey Lovelies! So here’s Part 2, and I’m so excited you asked for it! Thank you for requesting! Honestly, writing this was a total blast. This one’s a bit different though—it dives deeper into the challenges of the age gap and all the NHL pressure. It’s definitely not all smooth sailing, but I hope you still enjoy the drama!

Also, I swear I wanted to keep it short... and somehow ended up with 20,056 words. I just can’t do short, can I? 😂

For more fun: masterlist❤️

Six months. It’s almost impossible to believe how quickly time has passed since you first stumbled into Luke’s kitchen, skeptical, unsure of what would come next. Now, here you are—half a year into a relationship with him, and yet, some days, you still can't believe it's real.

Luke is perfect. Maybe too perfect, sometimes. He’s mature beyond his years, grounded in a way you’ve always admired but feared was too good to be true. When you first met, that six-year age gap felt like a huge mountain between you—something that might trip you up before you even got started. You worried there would be moments when he'd act too young, too impulsive, and you'd find yourself questioning whether you had made a mistake or whether he was ready for something serious.

But Luke? He’s proven you wrong over and over again.

His calmness, his commitment, and his quiet strength—it all made you realize that maybe age really is just a number. With him, you’ve never felt rushed, never pressured. It’s like he understands the pace you need to move at. He’s steady and unwavering, always ready to meet you where you are, to take it one step at a time. And that’s exactly what you needed. You weren’t ready to dive headfirst into something this serious until you knew it was real.

So you’ve taken things slow. Six months in, you’re still navigating the early stages of your relationship. You haven’t met his parents yet. You haven’t gone to one of his games—though you’d love to, just to see him in that element, doing what he loves. But you’ve both agreed that when those things happen, when you step into those parts of his world, it will be because you’re both sure of what you have. You’re building something strong and lasting.

And it hasn’t been all easy. There’s Jack, of course. He found out about you and Luke pretty much the moment you tried to sneak out after your first date. The cat was out of the bag before you even had a chance to process it. And naturally, that meant Quinn knew too, because Jack was worse than a tabloid. That boy couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended on it. Though you only saw Quinn a handful of times—mostly through FaceTime when you would pop into the background of Luke’s calls—you could always feel his eyes on you, sizing you up, assessing whether you were really what Luke needed.

You never blamed Quinn. You understood the brotherly protectiveness. It was clear from the start that Luke meant a lot to him, and anyone who stepped into his life had to be worth it. But still, you felt that unspoken judgment. That quiet skepticism that weighed on you, even if it was never voiced aloud. Jack reassured you, though. "He’s just protective," he’d say with a grin. "He’ll warm up to you. Trust me." And sure enough, as the months passed, the tension started to melt away.

It took five months before Quinn finally invited you to dinner. Just a simple gathering—Luke, Jack, you, and Quinn—while Quinn was in the city playing with the Rangers. At first, you weren’t sure how it would go. You knew it wasn’t just a dinner; it was a test. A chance for Quinn to see if what you and Luke shared was the real thing.

The moment you sat down at the table, you felt it: Quinn was watching you. Not like Jack did, with his easy humor and teasing grin, but in that calculating, watchful way that only a protective older brother could. You could almost feel his doubts lingering in the air. Was this just a phase for Luke? Something fleeting? Or was it something real?

You didn’t take it personally. It was hard, but you understood. You knew what came with being in Luke’s life. You’d heard enough stories from Jack and Luke to understand the whirlwind of the NHL lifestyle—the crazy girlfriends, the fleeting connections, the messiness. But you were different. You weren’t here for the money, the fame, or the excitement of it all. You saw Luke for who he really was—the person, the man he was becoming. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but you were willing to take it slow, to fight for something real.

You held your ground during that dinner. You laughed, you talked, and despite the nerves, you found yourself connecting with Quinn more than you expected. Before long, you were exchanging book recommendations and recipes with him, finding that you shared more in common than you thought. For a moment, the tension eased. You realized you weren’t just some outsider in their world. You were part of it, in your own way.

By the end of the night, Quinn wasn’t just the overprotective older brother anymore. He was someone you could see yourself getting along with, someone you could trust. And he realized it too. What you had with Luke was more than just a passing fling. It was real.

As you looked across the table at Luke during that dinner, his smile so full of pride and warmth, you knew the slow burn of the past months had been worth it. Every carefully measured step, every moment of uncertainty had led to this. The connection you were building with Luke was undeniable, and you were ready for what came next.

With him. For the long haul.

—

The apartment is quiet, save for the soft rustle of pages turning.

You’re curled up on one end of the couch, a book in your hands. At least, it looks like you’re reading, but not a single word has registered in the last fifteen minutes. Across from you, Quinn is stretched out in the armchair, legs casually crossed at the ankle, his own book open in his lap. He’s in town for a game—the Canucks played the Devils last night—but instead of heading straight home for the short break in the season, he decided to stay an extra night. It made sense, with the Michigan trip tomorrow. The four of you—Quinn, Luke, Jack, and you—would be flying out together to celebrate Ellen’s birthday. And since he doesn’t get to see his brothers often, he’s crashing at the apartment for the night.

Unlike you, Quinn actually seems to be reading, his face neutral, focused, like he’s in his own world. Meanwhile, you’re pretty sure you’ve bounced your knee up and down at least twenty times in the last half hour.

Quinn doesn’t even look up when he says, “You’re fidgeting.”

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

He finally glances at you, raising an eyebrow. “You keep moving. And you’ve been staring at the same page for about ten minutes now.”

You sigh, closing your book with a little more force than necessary. “Didn’t realize you were keeping track.”

Quinn shrugs without breaking his gaze from the page. “Hard not to when you’re sighing like someone just called you for a penalty in overtime.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, but it doesn’t last long. Instead, you stare down at your book again, running your fingers over the creased edges. “I’m just… nervous about tomorrow.”

Quinn doesn’t react immediately, but you can tell he’s listening.

You take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “Meeting Ellen and Jim, the whole Michigan trip. Luke’s friends. It’s a lot.”

“They already know about you,” Quinn points out. “Jack made sure of that.”

You roll your eyes, dragging a hand over your face. "Yeah, because Jack never shuts up. Honestly, I'm surprised it took him seven months to blurt it out on FaceTime."

Quinn chuckles, the sound soft and amused. “Yeah, he’s not exactly the type to keep things to himself.”

You smile faintly but shake your head. Jack could be annoying as hell sometimes, but you'd grown to appreciate his cheeky style—though you’d never let him know that. Giving him the satisfaction would only make him worse.

"Still," you continue, "knowing about me is different from actually meeting me. I don’t know... I guess I just feel like I have to prove myself. Like, I need to show your parents I’m good enough for Luke."

At that, Quinn tilts his head, his expression softening with something you didn’t expect—understanding.

“I get that,” he says quietly.

You glance at him, surprised. “You do?”

You blink, taken aback. Quinn always came across as confident, wise—sometimes quiet, but never unsure.

You’re about to ask him to elaborate when he continues, his voice slower now, more reflective.

"Jack’s always been the effortless one, you know?" he starts, a hint of admiration in his voice. "He walks into a room, and people are just drawn to him—like it’s second nature. That charm, that ease… he’s always had it."

There’s no bitterness in his voice—just truth. And you get it. Even though Jack can be a lot at times, Quinn’s right. He’s got that natural charm that makes it impossible not to like him, even when he’s being the most annoying person on the planet.

“And Luke…” Quinn’s voice falters for a second, but he recovers quickly."Luke’s a phenomenal player—and the kindest person you’ll ever meet. I can still hear Dad saying, ‘Look at him, Quinn. He’s only eight, and he’s already better than you were at that age.’"

You frown, your heart tightening slightly, but Quinn keeps going, his words surprisingly soft.

"I had to work my ass off just to keep up," he admits, his gaze dropping to his lap. "Growing up with brothers like mine... it was impossible not to notice the difference. Jack walks into a room, and people light up—he doesn’t even have to try. Luke picks up a stick, and it’s like the game was made for him. They were special. Everyone saw it. Everyone told them. And me? I was good, but never in the way they were. Never effortless. Never undeniable…So I pushed myself. Skated longer, trained harder, did everything I could to close the gap. Because if I wasn’t a prodigy like Luke or magnetic like Jack, I had to be something. I had to earn my place. Prove I belonged. Not just to everyone else, but to myself."

A tightness settles in your chest as his words sink in, striking a little too close to home. You loved being with Luke—he was the best thing that had ever happened to you. But sometimes, the weight of not feeling special enough to be with him was suffocating.

“It’s easy to get caught up in that,” Quinn adds, looking at you now. “Thinking you have to earn your place, like if you don’t, people will start to see you for what you ‘really’ are—not enough.” He gives you a sharp look, and his voice drops a little, more serious. “It’s good to have that drive in sports, but if you start believing you only deserve love and kindness if you prove it every day, it’ll eat you alive.”

Your throat tightens as you meet his eyes. There’s something in Quinn’s expression that feels like he’s not just talking about you—but about himself, too.

“But it’s bullshit,” Quinn continues, the gentleness in his tone surprising you. “People who matter will love you for who you are. You don’t have to prove yourself. Not to Luke, not to anyone. If they don’t see you for what you’re worth—what you bring to the table—it’s their loss.”

You let his words sink in, the knot in your stomach loosening just a little. You want to believe him.

But before you can say anything, the front door swings open with the usual creak, and Jack’s voice fills the apartment.

The familiar sound of Jack and Luke bickering fills the apartment. You steal a quick glance at Quinn, trying to pack everything you feel into one look. You want to thank him for opening up, for comforting you. You want to say something that might ease whatever’s been weighing on him too—tell him you’re sorry he had to go through all of that, and that if he ever needs someone to talk to, you’ll listen.

Quinn meets your gaze, and for a moment, he just nods, a small but genuine smile crossing his face—one that says more than words ever could. Then, without a word, he turns back to his book, flipping the page as if nothing happened.. 

“Dude, you definitely ate half of my roll!” Jack complains, his voice sharp with outrage as he and Luke walk in.

“I didn’t eat half your roll,” Luke counters, rolling his eyes as he kicks the door shut behind him. “I paid for the sushi, Jack. That means I can eat whatever I want.”

Jack huffs dramatically, holding up the takeout bags as if they’re the most precious thing in the world. “You hear that, Quinn? Our baby brother is robbing me blind. I’m practically starving over here.”

Quinn, still curled up in the armchair, doesn’t even glance up from his book. “Sounds like a you problem.”

Luke grins, completely unfazed by Jack’s theatrics. “Yeah, because that makes total sense. I’m here plotting to steal all of your sushi.”

Jack dramatically sighs, but there’s a grin tugging at his lips despite his best efforts. “Whatever, dude. You owe me a roll. Just keep track of it.”

Luke shrugs, tossing the sushi bags onto the counter as if it’s all water under the bridge. “I’ll pay you back next time. Maybe.”

With that, Luke crosses the room and heads straight for the couch where you're sitting. You glance up just as he sits down next to you, his body naturally leaning into yours. Before you can even process it, his lips brush softly against your temple, the gentle touch making your heart skip a beat.

“Miss me?” Luke asks, his voice light, teasing, but there’s something warm behind his words.

You smile, leaning into him slightly. “You were gone for like five minutes.”

Luke gasps, pretending to be hurt. “Five minutes is a lifetime! You should’ve missed me way more.”

You laugh, nudging him with your elbow. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Maybe. But I’m dramatic because I love you,” he says, his voice turning soft as he tucks a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “I’ll never apologize for that.”

You feel your heart soften, the quiet between you settling in. It’s easy with Luke. Too easy, like you’ve always been meant to share moments like this.

Meanwhile, Quinn is still immersed in his book, but you can hear the soft chuckle in his voice when he finally looks up. “You two are ridiculous.”

Luke grins, glancing over at him with a playful spark in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Captain. Did we interrupt your important reading time?”

Quinn rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re lucky I have important things to do.”

Luke nudges you gently. “Guess we’ll leave you to your important work then.”

Just as you’re about to respond, the bathroom door flies open, and Jack steps in, fixing Luke with a sharp look. "I swear, you took half my roll, but I’ll let it go—just so you can appreciate what an amazing brother I am."

Luke doesn’t miss a beat, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, thanks for your endless generosity, Jack.”

Jack shakes his head,“You’re impossible. But whatever, I’ll live.” He glances at Quinn. “You guys hungry?”

Quinn looks up from his book and shrugs, a small smirk on his face. “Yeah, alright. Let’s eat.”

Luke’s arm stays comfortably around your shoulders, pulling you in a little closer as Jack starts unpacking the sushi. He hands you a roll, and without hesitation, you take it, offering a piece to Luke, who grins at you.

“You sure you want to give me that? I might eat it all,” he teases, leaning in to take the piece from your fingers.

You roll your eyes but laugh. “It’s yours, baby. I’m just being nice.”

He takes it anyway, his lips brushing your hand for just a moment. “I’ll always accept nice,” he says, his voice warm and low.

Meanwhile, Quinn and Jack are fully engaged in their own conversation across the room.

“Wait, seriously? You're not hooking up with anyone?!” Jack asks, biting into his roll and glancing over at Quinn. His tone is a mix of playful curiosity and teasing challenge.

Quinn furrows his brow, unsure where this is headed. “Jack…I’ve got other things on my mind right now,” he replies, trying to sound casual but ending up a little too defensive.

Jack raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “Other things, huh? Like you are too busy brooding about your love life?”

Quinn shoots him a look—part amusement, part mild annoyance—but it’s clear there’s no real heat behind it. “I’m not brooding, Jack.”

Jack leans in, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Sure about that? You’re the type who could use a little fun, y’know. Just a little something to shake things up.”

Quinn sighs, pushing his sushi aside and leaning back slightly. “I’m having fun, Jack. But I don’t need drama or... random hook-ups like you.”

“Oh, come on,” Jack waves a dismissive hand, grinning. “Hook-ups aren’t drama. They’re just... passing moments. You should try it.”

You glance at Luke, stifling a grin as the brothers bicker. Luke notices and leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “Bet you ten bucks Quinn secretly thinks Jack needs a relationship.”

You chuckle softly, meeting his gaze. “You’re probably right.”

Luke shrugs, his grin sly. “He’s a good big brother, always looking out for Jack. But Jack’s more about living in the moment. Quinn doesn’t get that.”

As Jack continues —now full-on teasing about a girl he’s seeing—Quinn leans back, his patience clearly wearing thin but he’s trying to remain composed. “It’s not just about fun, Jack,” he says, his voice steady but earnest. “You need stability. You can’t just hop from one person to the next and think it’s gonna mean anything.”

Jack leans forward, his grin not faltering. “Who said anything about it ‘meaning’ anything? I’m just here for the ride, bro. You should try living in the moment sometime.”

Quinn shakes his head, voice calm but resolute. “Living in the moment is fine, but you can’t run from what really matters forever.”

Jack shrugs again, his smirk widening. “The ‘real thing’? Overrated.”

Luke leans in closer to you, his voice dropping to a soft whisper. “I’ll never be ‘overrated,’ right?”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “Never,” you reply, your voice light with amusement.

Luke’s fingers brush yours as he takes another piece of sushi, then presses a quick kiss to your cheeks, his breath warm against your skin.  “Good. Because you know, you’re my real thing,” he says, so quietly that only you can hear.

Your heart flutters as you look up at him, the familiar comfort of his presence pulling you away from the noise around you. Jack and Quinn’s voices fade into the background. Everything feels easy and relaxed, like you could just stay in this moment.

You lean back against Luke, resting your hand on his thigh, your fingers moving in soft, slow circles. You let his words sink in, the quiet meaning behind them making you feel warm, sparking something inside you.

Luke’s voice drops again, near a whisper in your ear. “You’re not listening, are you?”

You shake your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Too distracted.”

Luke’s grin widens, his arms tightening around you. “I’m distracting, huh?”

“Definitely,” you reply, the heat of his touch quickening your pulse just a little.

In the background, Jack’s voice rises in exaggerated complaint. “You really need to get a life, Quinn. I’m starting to think you’re allergic to fun.”

Quinn chuckles under his breath, the familiar rhythm of their sibling banter carrying on.

You close your eyes for a brief moment, listening to their back-and-forth, the warmth of Luke’s body beside you, the comfort of silence between you two that feels more intimate than words ever could. This moment—this quiet, easy, perfect moment—feels like something you never want to let go of.

—

Quinn was wrong. Ellen didn’t just dislike you—she made it clear from the start that you weren’t welcome. You still couldn’t figure out why.

You’d arrived in Michigan just a day ago with the boys. Jim, their dad, picked you all up from the airport, and he couldn’t have been kinder. He gave you a big, welcoming hug and even cracked a funny joke about his son. He said he’d always known Luke would end up with an older woman because he was the smartest and most mature of the bunch. Jack and Quinn didn’t seem too thrilled with the comment, but you couldn’t help but feel relieved by Jim’s warmth. He reminded you a lot of Luke—witty, laid-back, and effortlessly easy to talk to.

But when it came to Ellen, it was a completely different story. From the moment she saw you, she made sure you knew you weren’t welcome. Her “kindness” was stiff and calculated. She didn’t ask a single question, didn’t accept your offer to help clean up after dinner, and every time you spoke, she responded with nothing more than the bare minimum. It was so painfully obvious that, by the end of the night, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. The boys didn’t seem to notice at first, but the tension between you and Ellen only grew, and it soon became obvious to everyone.

After everyone had gone to rest, you sat down on Luke’s childhood bed, the weight of the evening settling heavily on you. Your chest tightened, and you almost couldn’t hold back the tears.

"Hey," Luke said, his voice gentle as he cupped your face. He sat beside you, pulling you into his lap. "I’m so sorry, darling," he murmured, his voice soft with concern. "I don’t get it. I’ve talked about you with her, and she never said anything. I thought this would be easy... but I’ll talk to her. I promise."

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into him as his warmth surrounded you.

You nestle into Luke’s chest, letting his warmth pull you in. His arms tighten around you, offering comfort, but a familiar knot forms in your stomach—one you hadn’t expected to feel again. The way Ellen had treated you, the coldness in her eyes—it hit you harder than you wanted to admit. The doubt that had been lurking in the back of your mind since the beginning, started to creep back in. The same insecurity, the same fear you’d been trying to shake off for months.

You swallow hard, but you don’t let your voice shake as you speak. “It’s not your fault, Luke,” you say, your words soft, almost too soft. “It’s just... she made it feel like I don’t belong here, you know? Like I don’t fit with your family.”

Luke brushes his fingers through your hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “You do belong here. I want you here, always,” he murmurs, his voice steady, but you can hear the underlying concern in it.

You nod, but deep down, you’re questioning everything. Am I really good enough for him? That age gap—the thing that had once seemed so insignificant now feels like an undeniable wall, one you can’t climb over. And if Ellen can see it, if she can feel it, maybe it’s a sign that you don’t truly fit into his world after all.

“Maybe... maybe I’m just not what you need,” you whisper, the thought slipping out before you can catch it. “Maybe it’s just harder for me than I thought.”

Luke freezes for a moment, his breath catching as he pulls back slightly to look at you. His eyes are soft, searching, and he lifts your chin with his fingers so you’re forced to meet his gaze.

“What do you mean by that?” His voice is low, gentle, but there’s an edge of worry in it.

You take a shaky breath, fighting back the wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. You can’t explain it without sounding ridiculous, so instead, you focus on the doubt tormenting you. “I just... I don’t know. I keep wondering if I’m enough for you. If the age gap will always be something that... that people notice. Or if your family will ever accept me for who I am, not just because I’m with you.”

Luke’s expression softens even more, and he pulls you close again, this time more firmly. “Listen to me,” he says, his voice serious but full of tenderness. “I don’t care about the age gap. I don’t care about what people think or what my family thinks. All that matters is us—what we have together. And if they can’t see that, it’s their problem, not ours.”

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to absorb his words, but the uncertainty still lingers, tucked into the corners of your mind. Luke’s arms tighten around you again, and you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours. He doesn’t say anything more, just lets the silence settle around you, and you let yourself lean into him completely, allowing the weight of everything to fall away—if only for a little while.

“I just want you to know that I’m here,” he adds quietly, his voice almost a whisper now. “No matter what, I’m here. And I’m not letting you go.”

—

The next morning, as the birthday party for Ellen kicks off, the energy in the house is a bit brighter, but your nerves are still on edge. The situation with Ellen hasn’t improved, and you're doing your best to push the unease to the back of your mind. Guests begin to trickle in—family, friends, everyone buzzing around and chatting—but you feel like you're still on the outside, quietly observing.

As soon as Luke’s friends walk in—Ethan, Mark, and Dylan—the room instantly fills with their loud, boisterous energy. You feel a flutter of nerves, but Luke catches your eye, offering you a warm smile and a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. You stand a little taller.

Ethan is the first to notice you, his gaze flickering between you and Luke.Luke gives a quick, casual introduction, but before you can even get a word in, Ethan’s brow arches, and a kind smile spreads across his face.

"Well, look at this," he says, his voice teasing but laced with curiosity. "Didn't think you'd go for someone a little... more seasoned."

Mark grins and nudges Luke’s shoulders playfully. "Of course he would, Ethan! Luke’s always been Mister Serious when it comes to love. But man, you really hit the jackpot here. Didn’t think you had it in you."

You can’t help but blush a little at their teasing, your cheeks warming. “What can I say? He’s got great taste,” you reply with a playful smile, then turn to Luke, your gaze warm. “And sure, he’s younger—but trust me, he’s all man. And he deserves someone who sees that.”

For a moment, the teasing fades. There’s a brief pause as the words settle in. Luke’s expression shifts, his eyes lighting up with something close to pride. A slow, knowing smile spreads across his face. Without hesitation, he pulls you a little closer, his arm resting around your waist—not for show, not to prove a point, just because it feels right.

Ethan lets out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. I get it. Guess Luke’s not the only one serious about this. You finally found someone who’s in it for real.”

Mark nods, his usual joking tone giving way to something more genuine. “Yeah. Honestly, I wish you could’ve heard all the whining before you two got together.”

“Oh, it was painful,” Dylan adds, shaking his head dramatically. He drops his voice lower, mimicking Luke in an exaggerated, desperate tone. “‘Oh, guys, I just want someone who actually wants something real…’”

Ethan clutches his forehead like he’s in distress. “‘Yeah, all the hot girls only want situationships. It’s terrible. I don’t know how I’ll survive…’”

The group bursts into laughter, and Luke, instead of arguing, just grins wider. He shrugs, completely unfazed. “Laugh all you want,” he says, voice steady. Then he turns to you, his smile softening just a little. “But all the work I put into finding the right person? It was worth it. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

His words land like a gentle touch against your heart, a warmth spreading deep in your chest.

The next hour passes in a blur of laughter and easy conversation. You find yourself caught up in wild university stories, each one more ridiculous than the last. The guys tease you, you fire back just as quickly, and before long, you’re all grinning like old friends. You’re relieved they don’t take the whole situation too seriously—it’s a welcome break from the weight of everything else on your mind. And right now, you could use a little lightness.

But after a while, Luke reaches for your wrist, his touch gentle but firm. “Alright, I’m stealing her for a bit,” he announces, giving the guys a pointed look. “Gotta introduce her to some family members.”

Mark groans dramatically. “Ah, yes. The official tour. Good luck.”

"Don’t let Aunt Carol talk your ear off," Dylan smirks before taking a long sip of his beer.

Ethan leans back with a knowing grin. “And watch out for the cousins—there’s like a hundred of them.”

You laugh, but as Luke leads you away, you quickly realize they weren’t exaggerating. The Hughes family is much bigger than you expected.

For the next forty minutes, you meet what feels like an endless stream of aunts, uncles, and cousins, each one greeting you with warmth and curiosity. But what surprises you most isn’t the size of his family—it’s how effortless Luke makes it all feel.

He guides you seamlessly from one introduction to the next, never once leaving your side. He carries the conversations with ease, knowing exactly when to jump in, when to steer the small talk, and when to give you space to speak. Any moment you start to feel overwhelmed, he’s there—a reassuring glance, a hand resting lightly on your back, a quiet squeeze of your fingers. It’s not just about introducing you to them. It’s about making sure you feel comfortable.

And that’s when it truly hits you.

Luke isn’t just proving something to his family and friends. He’s proving it to you.

Every touch, every word, every small moment—it’s all a reminder. A reminder that this isn’t temporary, that you’re not some passing phase in his life. You belong here, with him, in his world, and he wants everyone to know it.

More than that—he wants you to know it.

And as you watch the way he looks at you, the way he proudly keeps you close, the way he makes sure you feel seen, heard, and respected—it’s undeniable.

Luke isn’t just proud to be with you.

He’s protecting this.

Protecting you.

—

After what feels like the hundredth introduction in a row, you realize you need a break. The constant smiling, small talk, and endless new faces are starting to wear on you. Luke has been incredible—steady, attentive, making everything easier—but even with him at your side, you need a moment to breathe.

“I’m just gonna grab some water,” you tell him softly, squeezing his hand.

He studies you for a second, like he knows you’re feeling overwhelmed, but he nods. “Take your time. I’ll be right here.”

Slipping away, you make your way to the kitchen, relieved to find it empty. You lean against the counter, inhaling deeply, trying to shake the exhaustion creeping in. Just a few seconds of quiet. That’s all you need.

But then, voices drift in from the hallway.

Ellen’s voice.

And she doesn’t sound happy.

“I just don’t understand it,” she says, frustration dripping from every word. “What does she even want with him?”

There’s a pause, then another voice—her friend, quieter, hesitant. “Maybe she really does care about him?”

Ellen lets out a bitter laugh. “Oh, I’m sure she cares. Why wouldn’t she? He’s young, successful, and comes from a good family. But let’s be real—she’s not stupid. She knows exactly what she’s doing.”

Your stomach tightens.

“What do you mean?” her friend asks cautiously.

Ellen huffs. “She’s older. She knows time isn’t on her side. She’s probably already thinking about ways to lock him down before he wakes up and realizes what a mistake this is.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Oh, come on,” her friend murmurs. “That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”

“Is it?” Ellen’s voice sharpens. “You know how these things go. Maybe she’s already hinting at the next step—moving in, getting engaged. And then what? A baby? Accidents happen all the time, don’t they?”

Your heart pounds.

No.

She wouldn’t—she couldn’t think that.

"That’s just the natural progression of a relationship, Ellen," her friend says, though there’s a hint of hesitation in her voice. "And she doesn’t seem like the type who would do that."

Ellen doesn’t hesitate. “Maybe not now. But give it time. She’ll make sure she’s set, one way or another. And then what? Luke’s stuck. Tied down before he’s even had the chance to live his life. He’s too young for this—he should be focused on hockey, his future, not playing house with some woman who’s way older than him.”

Your hands tremble against the counter.

She thinks you’re trapping him. That you’re manipulating him, clinging to him for his money, his name, his future. That you’re selfish enough to take away everything he’s worked for just so you can have stability.

Every ugly thought you’ve ever had about yourself, every insecurity you thought you’d buried, slams into you all at once.

You’re too old for him. He’s too young to know what he really wants. You are holding him back. Maybe one day, he will regret this.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to shove the thoughts away, but they keep coming. The weight of them sits heavy on your chest, suffocating.

It’s unfair. It’s cruel.

Because you know the truth.

You never wanted anything from Luke but him. His love, his presence, the way he makes you feel like you finally belong somewhere. He’s the one who pulled you in, who made you believe this could work.

And yet, here you are, listening to his own mother rip you apart like you’re nothing more than an opportunist.

Tears sting at the back of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall.

No.

You will not let her do this to you.

You take a shaky breath, lifting your chin.

You could walk out there right now. Confront her. Demand to know how she can say these things when everyone else can see how much you and Luke love each other.

But you won’t. Not yet.

This isn’t the time, and you won’t make a scene—not at Luke’s family gathering, not when he’s worked so hard to make this day special.

Instead, you straighten your shoulders, press your palms against the counter, and take one last deep breath.

You’ll go back to Luke.

Because he is the only thing that matters right now.

But later—when the party is over, when it’s just the two of you—you will talk to Ellen.

One way or another, this conversation is happening.

Because no matter what she thinks, no matter what doubts she tries to plant in your head, there’s one thing you know for sure.

You love Luke, and you're not going anywhere. You won’t let the dark thoughts take over.

—

When the party winds down and the last of the guests have left, the house settles into a peaceful quiet, a soft hum lingering in the air. The only sounds coming from outside are the occasional bursts of laughter from the porch, where Luke and his brothers sit with Jim, sipping their drinks and listening to some old country music.

You were out there with them for a while, curled up next to Luke, letting the warmth of his presence chase away the lingering sting of what you’d overheard. But no matter how much you tried to push it down, it’s still there—Ellen’s words, the accusations, the way she spoke about you like you were some kind of threat to her son’s future.

You can’t let it go.

So you slip inside, your pulse quickening with every step through the quiet house. You find Ellen in the kitchen, wiping down the counters, her expression calm—like she hasn’t just spent the evening making you feel like a complete fraud.

She doesn’t even glance your way, let alone acknowledge you with a hi. So, you’re the one who finally breaks the silence.

“I heard what you said earlier,” you say, your voice quieter this time, but no less firm. “About me. About why you don’t think I belong with Luke.”

Ellen tenses but doesn’t look at you. Not yet. “I assume you didn’t like what you heard.”

You let out a soft, humorless laugh. “No. But I think I get it.” You hesitate for a second before continuing, forcing yourself to push past the knot in your throat. “The truth is, Ellen, I’ve had all of those same fears. Maybe even worse ones.”

That gets her attention. She looks up, eyes narrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”

You exhale, gripping the back of a chair as you gather your thoughts.

“When I met Luke, I didn’t even know who he was. I didn’t know he was in the NHL, I didn’t know he was 21. Hell, I didn’t even know his last name the first time we talked.” You shake your head, a bitter smile tugging at your lips. “If I had known? I probably wouldn’t have let myself get close to him. Because I never intended for any of this to happen.”

Ellen watches you carefully, arms crossed, but she doesn’t interrupt.

“I fought it,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper. “You have no idea how much convincing it took for me to even give this a chance. Luke… he saw something in me from the start, something I didn’t even see in myself. He was patient. He never pushed, never made me feel like I had to be anything other than who I was. And when I told him I wasn’t sure? That I was scared? He just waited. He let me take my time.”

You swallow hard, your fingers tightening around the back of the chair you’re standing behind. “That’s why we kept it quiet. For seven months, Ellen. Not because we were hiding, but because I needed to be sure. Because I needed to know that this wasn’t just some fleeting thing for him. That it wasn’t just… a phase, or a rebellion, or some naive fantasy. I needed to know that what we had was real before I let myself believe in it.”

Ellen’s expression shifts for the first time, and you catch a flicker of something—uncertainty, maybe understanding—but you still can’t read it completely.

But you’re not done yet.

“I never wanted to be some scandal. Some headline. Some… joke to people who think they know our relationship just because they know his name.” Your throat tightens, but you push through it. “I’ve never even been to one of his games. Not once. Because I’m terrified of what people will say about me. About us. About how I’m ‘too old for him’ or ‘using him’ or—” Your voice breaks slightly, but you shake your head, forcing yourself to continue.

“You think I don’t lie awake at night wondering if I’m what’s best for him? If I should just—walk away before the world does everything it can to tear us apart?” You let out a shaky breath. “Because I do.”

Ellen looks at you then, really looks at you. For the first time, she doesn’t seem like an overprotective mother searching for someone to blame.

She just looks like a mother who’s scared.

You exhale, your voice barely above a whisper as you speak, “You’re not the only one scared of me hurting him, Ellen. I’m terrified of it, too.”

Ellen listens, her eyes focused, waiting for you to continue. You swallow hard, your chest tightening as you try to steady your nerves.

“I know the fans don’t even know about me yet, but I can already see it. Once they do, it’ll blow up. All over social media, rumors flying, and people judging him—judging us—just because I’m older. I don’t want him to have to deal with that kind of pressure. Not when he’s already got so much on his plate.”

You run a hand through your hair, the weight of it all sinking in like a stone in your stomach. “And his teammates... What if it makes things weird for him? He’s worked his whole life for this. The last thing I want is to be the thing that complicates his career, or makes him feel like he has to choose between me and them.”

Your eyes meet Ellen’s, filled with doubt, uncertainty. “I just don’t know if he’s ready for all that... for everything this could mean.”

A heavy silence settles between you, not suffocating, but thick with the gravity of your words. Ellen’s gaze drops for a moment, her hands gripping the edge of the counter like she’s trying to hold herself steady, as if your fears have somehow shifted something in her.

Finally, she speaks.

“I—” She stops herself, exhales sharply. When she looks at you again, there’s something different in her eyes. Not quite acceptance, but maybe the beginning of understanding.

“I didn’t know any of that,” she admits with a flat voice.

“No,” you say softly. “You didn’t.”

She presses her lips together, glancing out the window at Luke, who’s still outside with his brothers, laughing, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside. When she turns back to you, her expression is unreadable. “You drink?” she asks, tone even.

You nod without a second thought. “I do now.”

For the first time since you walked in, the corner of her mouth twitches—just a hint of amusement, barely there but enough to notice.

—

​​The tension in the kitchen finally eases, and for the first time tonight, the air feels lighter. Ellen, usually so cold, is now leaning against the counter, sipping her gin and laughing with you. The sharpness in her gaze has softened, replaced with a warmth you never expected to see.

“I’ll tell you something,” she says, her words slightly slurred, “I didn’t expect this to be my night.” She chuckles, a soft, genuine laugh that catches you off guard. “But it’s good to let the walls come down every once in a while, huh?”

You nod, amused by how effortlessly she’s transformed. “Yeah, it’s surprising,” you admit, feeling genuinely relaxed now. “But I think we’re getting somewhere.”

“Oh, we definitely are,” Ellen agrees, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “But you wanna hear something really fun? Luke… oh boy, Luke was a mess with his first crush.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Luke? Mr. Charismatic?”

“Oh, yes,” Ellen says, practically grinning. She lowers her voice, leaning in like she’s about to share the juiciest secret. “I remember this girl. He practiced for days in front of the mirror, building up the courage to ask her to the school dance. I’m standing in the hallway, praying for him, and he goes up to her and says, ‘Hi… um… so… would you maybe… like, want to… uh, go with me to the event?’” She mimics his awkward tone, twisting her face in that exact “I’m-so-embarrassed” expression. “The poor kid froze. It was so bad, I had to leave the room because I couldn’t stop laughing.”

You try to stifle your laughter, but it escapes in a burst. “No way, Luke? He really did that?”

“Oh, yes,” Ellen confirms, shaking her head with a grin. “That’s my boy. The ‘charismatic’ one.” She takes another sip of her drink, voice dropping even lower. “But wait. There’s more.”

Your eyes widen, knowing you’re in for something worse.

“Oh yeah,” she smirks, clearly loving the moment. “Let’s talk about Luke’s first real kiss. He was about 15, hanging out at a friend’s party. He finally found the courage to kiss this girl he’d been eyeing all night, and everything was going fine. They’re talking, laughing, and then—he goes in for the kiss. And completely misses. Right past her lips, straight into her nose.” She pauses, relishing the buildup. “She’s standing there, totally confused, and Luke? He freaked out and bolted. Literally ran out of the party like a man on fire.”

You burst into laughter, barely able to catch your breath. “No way! He missed the whole thing?”

“Oh, yeah,” Ellen says, not missing a beat. “And then he spent the next hour Googling ‘how to kiss a girl.’ I had to give him a whole lesson on lip placement.” She shakes her head, still grinning. “I thought I was going to die of second-hand embarrassment.”

Just as you think you can’t laugh any harder, the door creaks open.

Jack steps into the kitchen, eyes widening at the sight of the empty bottles and the two of you clearly well into your cups.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Jack asks, a mix of confusion and amusement on his face, though his grin is practically splitting his face in two. You can tell without a doubt that he overheard your conversation with Elle. His eyes flick to Luke, who’s right behind him, his face already bright red. “Wait, you’re telling me that’s actually true? You missed your first kiss?”

Luke freezes, his eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. “I—look, it wasn’t a big deal. I was nervous, alright? Cut me some slack.”

Jack’s grin widens, clearly delighted. “Oh man, this is perfect. Finally, something else embarrassing about Luke I can hold over his head.” He laughs to himself before adding, “I thought I knew all the stories. This one’s gold.”

Before Luke can recover, Ellen jumps in, her voice rising as she relishes the moment. “Oh, we’re not done yet, Jack. Remember when I found Luke’s ‘dating handbook’ when he was 16? A whole book, filled with tips like ‘how to avoid awkward silences’ and ‘perfect first date questions.’” She practically slams her glass down, savoring every second of Luke’s embarrassment.

Luke looks like he’s about to vanish into thin air. His hands are buried in his face, but it’s no use—his brothers are on a roll.

Quinn walks in, laughing, with Jim right behind him, grinning widely. “Wait, what? A book? Oh man, I’m dead.”

Luke tries to defend himself. “Guys, please. I was just… figuring things out.”

Jim gives Luke a dramatic pat on the back, his voice dripping with exaggerated sympathy. “Don’t worry, son. We’ve all been there. I remember when Jack asked me—at 18—how to know when it’s the right time to hold hands.” He pauses for effect, letting the silence hang. “At 18!”

You burst into uncontrollable laughter, practically gasping for air. “Oh my god, Jack?! Mr. ‘I’m your Prince Charming, Flirt King’ himself?”

Jack’s face goes pale, and his expression shifts to pure horror. It’s his turn to turn bright red now. “Dad! You promised it was gonna stay between us!”

The kitchen is filled with laughter, and your cheeks start to hurt from smiling so much.

Ellen takes another sip of her drink, a mischievous glint in her eye as she winks at you. “You think that’s bad? Just wait until I tell you about the time I caught Quinn on his computer, searching for… let’s say, questionable content. I almost had a heart attack. I thought he was watching a documentary on the history of hockey… but nope. Wrong side of the internet.” She smirks, clearly enjoying herself. “And, for the record, I learned something that day. Quinn’s type is definitely Latinas.”

Quinn, who’d been casually sipping his beer while leaning against the kitchen arch, nearly chokes on the drink. His face turns bright red as well. “MOM, STOP!”

The whole room bursts into laughter again.

Ellen, a little tipsy but clearly loving the chaos, glances at you with a softer, more genuine smile. Her voice, though still playful, carries a hint of warmth. “But Luke’s a good kid, you know. A little awkward, a little goofy, but…” She pauses, her eyes softening as she looks at Luke, then back to you. “…but he’s got a heart of gold.”

You take a deep breath, wiping away tears of laughter. “Oh, I know, Ellen. I’m one lucky woman to have him in my life.”

Luke looks at you with so much love in his eyes, his gaze shifting between you and his mother, a soft smile on his face. You can see the relief wash over him.

You wink at him, giving him a silent sign that everything is going to be alright.

Ellen takes another sip, her tone shifting into something more sincere. “I’m sorry for all the tension earlier. Luke is lucky to have you as well.”

Luke meets her eyes and sends a warm, loving smile to his mother. He steps over to you, wrapping his arm around you and planting a short, warm kiss on your forehead. “Thanks for sticking around for this disaster,” he says quietly, whispering in your ear, his voice full of meaning.

“Of course, honey! You can’t get rid of me that easily!”

—

You never imagined you’d miss Michigan that much. But back in Jersey, the difference hit you hard. Life here was faster, louder, and more chaotic. The NHL season was in full swing, and the Devils were struggling. With every loss, the pressure on Luke grew, and so did the distance between you two. His mind was consumed by the game, leaving little room for anything else. You could feel the weight of his career slowly pushing you apart. The whole situation felt like it was constantly testing your ability to balance everything, but you knew you had to figure it out.

So, without thinking too much, you made the decision to move in with Luke and Jack. You didn’t want things to feel so difficult. Luke had already sacrificed so much, supporting you through everything. Now, it was your turn to make the sacrifice—to make it easier for him.

The adjustment wasn’t instant. Between Luke’s demanding schedule and the pressure from the season, there were days when it felt like everything was pulling in different directions. But you found a way to make it work. You took a new job with more flexible hours, something that would allow you to be there for him more consistently. It wasn’t just about giving him space—it was about creating the kind of life together where you could both feel secure and steady, no matter how busy or intense his career became.

Living with Luke and Jack brought its own challenges, but it also gave you the chance to help shoulder some of the burden. You worked from home most days, only going into the office once a week. You kept the apartment tidy, cooked meals, and made sure they always had something warm to come home to. Even Jack, who kept up his usual tough-guy act, showed signs of how much the season was getting to him. You could tell the losses were affecting him too. And though Luke remained a rock for everyone around him, the weight of the season was clearly taking its toll.

Luke insisted on covering everything—rent, utilities, groceries. He wanted to spoil you, but you couldn’t just let that happen. You needed to contribute, to show that you were just as invested in making this work. You wanted to take care of him, take care of them, and make sure they all felt supported during this time of stress. The more you learned about the pressures of his life, the more you were ready to do whatever it took to ease his burden, even if it meant adjusting your own life to make it easier for him.

One evening, not long after you’d moved in, you and Luke were curled up on the couch, watching a game. You didn’t fully understand hockey, but the Leafs were playing, and if you were being honest, they were the other team you secretly enjoyed watching. In fact, if you weren’t so loyal to Luke, you might have even liked them better—something that always made him laugh. You’d deny it every time, swearing your heart belonged to the Devils, but he always saw right through you.

Between plays, Luke glanced at you, his expression turning serious. “I know you want to take things slow and everything,” he started, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along your thigh. “But I was thinking… maybe you could come to my game this weekend.”

Your breath hitched slightly, and he must have noticed because he quickly added, “The guys already know about you, so it wouldn’t be a big deal or anything. We don’t have to post anything online, but I don’t want to hide you.” His voice was firm, certain. “I want the world to know you’re mine.”

You hesitated, nerves flickering in your stomach.

“The Devils are playing the Leafs,” he continued, knowing that might tip the scales in his favor. “So, technically, you’ll be seeing both of your favorite teams.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “You act like I’m a Leafs fan.”

He smirked. “You are a Leafs fan. You just refuse to admit it.”

A few months ago, the very thought of agreeing to this would have terrified you. The idea of stepping into the spotlight, facing criticism, and becoming visible would have been enough to send you into a spiral. But after everything you had been through with Luke, you knew one thing for sure: you trusted his love.

A slow smile spread across your lips as you nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

Luke blinked, caught off guard. “Wait—that’s it?”

You laughed at his shock. “Yep, that’s it.” You leaned in, pressing your forehead against his. “Because I love you, Lukey. You stood by me when I was scared, when I didn’t trust this, when I wasn’t sure I could handle it. You were patient, you fought for us—even when your family made it hard. I want to be there for you too. I want to be the girlfriend in the stands, screaming my lungs out for you.”

His grin was instant, boyish and bright. “God, I love you,” he murmured before pulling you into a deep kiss.

You smirked as you pulled back, your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. “I can’t wait for the weekend,” you teased, watching his lips twitch in amusement as you both turned back to the game. The Leafs were destroying Montreal, and you grinned. “Do you think I can meet Woll?”

Luke groaned, shaking his head. “You’re insane,” he said, but there was nothing but fondness in his tone. “But if that’s what you want, I’ll make it happen.”

You giggled, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’m just teasing. But you really are the best, honey. Thanks for offering.”

Luke’s large palm slipped under your pajama top, fingers trailing slow, teasing patterns against your skin. His touch sent a shiver through you, the warmth of his palm settling just below your ribs, dangerously close to your breast. A slow, knowing smirk tugged at his lips.

“Of course, baby,” he murmured, dipping his head to press open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. “I love seeing you happy.”

His tongue traced light, deliberate circles on the sensitive spot beneath your ear, and a soft whimper slipped from your lips.Your fingers trailed down his chest, moving lower, before wrapping around his cock in a slow, languid stroke. He tensed beneath your touch, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as his head fell against your shoulder.

"If I knew you’d be this grateful just for the chance to meet Woll," he rasped, voice thick with amusement and something darker, "maybe I should set up a whole meet-and-greet."

You chuckled, your touch slow and purposeful. “Oh, let me give you a real taste of my gratitude…”

And just like that, all thoughts of hockey, public appearances, and game-day nerves melted away.

—

The hum of the arena is deafening as you step inside, the rush of energy from the crowd crashing over you like a wave. The lights pulse overhead, casting a bright glow over the ice below. You’re here for Luke, to support him, to cheer him on the way a girlfriend should, but there’s something about this place—the cold air, the flashing cameras, the subtle glances—that makes your nerves spike.

You knew this was going to be hard.

Dating someone like Luke—someone young, rising, and constantly in the public eye—was never going to be easy. The moment your relationship became public, you knew the scrutiny would follow. You had braced yourself for it, told yourself that the people who mattered—Luke, his family, his friends—knew your heart. But now, standing in the heart of it all, the weight of their eyes on you, the quiet whispers just loud enough to hear, it felt real.

Luke had reassured you before you left. He had watched you fuss over your outfit for way too long, smoothing out invisible wrinkles, reapplying your lip gloss three times, making sure everything was just right. He had only smiled, stepping behind you in the mirror, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“Babe, you look amazing,” he had murmured. “But none of this matters. Just enjoy the night, okay? That’s all I care about.”

You had nodded, comforted by his words, but now? Now, under the luminous glow of the arena, your stomach was twisting.

The energy inside the arena was electric, the kind of buzz that sent chills up your spine. Fans decked out in red and blue roared with excitement as the players hit the ice, their sticks tapping against the boards, the sharp sound cutting through the deafening noise. You should’ve been excited—this was Luke’s big game, your first official game as his girlfriend.

But all you felt was nerves.

You sat with the WAGs, hands folded tightly in your lap as you tried to shake off the anxiety bubbling in your chest. Some of the women were nice—really nice, actually. Reanne, Curtis Lazar’s wife, was a breath of fresh air. From the moment you sat down, she had gone out of her way to make you feel welcome, chatting with you like you’d been friends for years. She had this warmth about her, something easy and kind, and it helped, a little.

But then there were the others.

The ones who barely acknowledged your existence. The ones who offered tight, forced smiles when you caught their eye, then turned away just as quickly. And then there were the ones who didn’t bother hiding their disdain at all.

You tried not to let it get to you. You focused on the game, let Reanne fill in the gaps whenever you looked lost, and even managed to enjoy yourself. For a while, it almost felt normal.

Until you heard them.

“She’s way too old for him... And what’s with those thighs? She could crush him with those things.”

The words were whispered but loud enough to make your stomach sink.

“I know, right? She looks like she’s been spending all her time in the gym, but not in a good way. It’s like, too much muscle, too little femininity.” Another voice scoffed, clearly enjoying the cruelty.

You clenched your fists, refusing to look at them, keeping your focus locked on the ice.

You knew you were strong, and you had worked hard for the body you had. You’d been a big runner—the kind of runner who had thick thighs and a solid ass from hours on the pavement.

You used to take pride in it. It was why you crossed the finish line of that half marathon when no one thought you could.

But now, their words—those cutting comments—had you questioning everything you’d once felt proud of.

Reanne’s body stiffened beside you, her hand gripping her drink so hard you thought it might shatter. You could feel her holding back, ready to snap. But before she could, another voice joined in, the laugh sharp and cruel.

“Seriously, she has to be in it for the money. Why else would someone her age be with a kid fresh out of college?”

Laughter. Actual laughter.

Your hands clenched into fists, nails digging into your palms.

You shouldn’t care. You knew this would happen. You knew people would judge. But knowing didn’t make it easier.

And then you saw it.

A few rows ahead, a girl had her phone out, camera angled just right.

She was recording.

Your breath caught in your throat.

She wasn’t recording the game.

She was recording them. Recording their words. Recording you.

Your chest felt tight, your pulse hammering in your ears. You wanted to look away, to pretend it wasn’t happening, but you couldn’t. You were frozen, caught in this horrible moment, trapped between humiliation and the overwhelming desire to disappear.

The rest of the game passed in a blur. You barely saw Luke on the ice. You barely heard the cheers, the commentary, the final buzzer signaling the end of the third period. By the time you snapped out of it, everyone around you was standing, gathering their things, filing out toward the exits.

Reanne touched your arm gently. “Hey,” she murmured, her voice filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

You forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, just tired.” It was a lie, but you said it anyway.

She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push. Instead, she gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t let their words get to you. Luke loves you, and that’s all that matters.”

You walked out of the arena, blending into the sea of fans, trying not to let it show—trying not to let the weight of their words sink too deep.

And you almost made it.

But then, later that night, the video surfaced.

You saw it before Luke did. Before anyone did.

A clip, grainy but clear enough. Voices sneering, words like knives. The comments were already rolling in, tearing you apart.

"Imagine being this insecure 💀"

"She looks so uncomfortable, lol. Like she knows she doesn’t belong."

"Luke deserves WAY better than this. Yikes."

"She’s literally just a glorified babysitter at this point 😂"

"Does she think having a nose that big makes her look sophisticated? Girl, it’s giving witch vibes."

"Her thighs look like they belong in a bodybuilding competition, not on a woman supposedly ‘dating’ someone half her age. 🚩"

"She’s trying so hard to act unbothered, but it’s actually embarrassing to watch."

"Granny’s out here desperately trying to keep up with the younger crowd. It’s kinda sad, tbh. 👵"

"What does Luke even see in her? It’s definitely not her looks. 😬"

"Her whole vibe is just ‘clinging to relevance.’ She’s obviously using him for attention."

These were the milder ones. The others were worse—full of venom, wishing harm on you, calling you a slut, and throwing out every vile insult they could think of.

The comments made you feel sick, a weight settling in your chest that you didn’t know how to shake. You’d never felt this insecure before—not like this. You’d had your struggles when you were younger, moments of doubt about your body, but you grew past them. You were strong, healthy, confident. But now? Now, their words crawled under your skin, making you question everything. And worst of all, you didn’t know how to make it stop.

But you didn’t tell Luke.

You couldn’t bring yourself to. He was always so strong for you, always there when you needed him. You wanted to do the same for him—be there on his game day, support him, and not add to the weight he was already carrying.

So you swallowed it down.

You went home with him, pretended everything was fine, let him kiss you, let him hold you. And only when he grabbed his book and started reading, you slipped into the shower.

You strip off your clothes, the chill of the bathroom air prickling your skin. As you step into the shower, the scalding water rushes over you, its heat wrapping around you, though it does little to quiet the chaos inside. The cold porcelain presses against your back, a sharp contrast that should bring you back to the present—but even that isn’t enough. You feel trapped. The cruel words from earlier echo in your mind, the judgment, the harshness, circling you like a storm you can’t outrun.

You’re ashamed of yourself for feeling weak. For letting it get to you. But despite your best efforts to keep it together, the tears come. And this time, you don’t fight them.

They fall freely, hot and relentless, and for the first time tonight, you allow yourself to feel the weight of it all. You spend what feels like hours under the running water, each tear that falls stripping away a little more of the armor you’ve been wearing all day.

Luke knocks gently on the door after a while. His voice is soft, just outside the bathroom. “Hey, are you okay in there?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and force a shaky breath, brushing the wet strands of your hair away from your face. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, your voice betraying you. “Just wanted to wash my hair.”

Eventually, you rinse the last of the tears away, the water now lukewarm against your skin. You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to steady your hands as you turn off the shower. The silence in the bathroom is almost suffocating, but it’s better than the weight of the words still lingering in your mind.

You wrap a towel around yourself, trying to gather your thoughts. You take a moment to compose yourself before stepping out, the cold air hitting you once more. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, not recognizing the person looking back.

With a final, shaky breath, you step out of the bathroom, the cool air hitting your damp skin. Your heart feels heavy, the weight of the night still pressing down, but with each step toward the bedroom, the tightness in your chest loosens—just a little.

You force a smile onto your face, though it feels more like a mask than anything real. 

Luke is lying on the bed in just his boxers, scrolling through his phone. Your heart skips a beat as you take in his tall, athletic frame. His hair is still damp from his post-game shower.

"Luke, I’m so proud of you tonight," you say, sitting down beside him and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "The whole team was amazing. I can’t believe you guys beat the Leafs! You really played your hearts out."

He smiles at you, but there’s a flicker of concern in his eyes. You try to ignore it.

“I’m gonna make us some hot chocolate to celebrate,” you add, standing up. “I know how much you love it after a game.” You try to sound upbeat, like everything is fine, but as you turn toward the door, you feel his hand gently catch yours.

“Hey,” Luke says softly, pulling you back toward the bed. “Why didn’t you talk to me about the video?”

You freeze.

He’s holding you close now, his gaze steady, but there’s a quiet hurt in his eyes. “I saw it online. And I saw the comments as well. I… I don’t want to push you, but I need to know why you didn’t tell me.”

You bite your lip, your heart hammering in your chest. This is the moment you’ve been avoiding. You feel all your walls start to crumble.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know you have so much on your plate—your career, the pressure from the team. And I—I didn’t want to be another thing weighing you down. But when I saw those comments, when I heard what they said tonight… I just—I felt like I didn’t belong. Like I’m too old, too ugly, not thin enough… like…I just—”

Your voice wavers, thick with emotion, but Luke doesn’t rush you. He just waits, patient and steady, his eyes soft with understanding as he gives you the space to let it out.

“I think this was my breaking point,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been fighting from the start—trying to prove myself to everyone. And I know you’ve been fighting too—don’t get me wrong, I know you’ve had my back every step of the way. But first, it was Quinn, questioning if I was really with you for the right reasons. Then your mom, who hated me from the beginning. I know they all love me now, but it wasn’t easy. It’s been so stressful, Lukey.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “And then today at your game... what those girls said about me—it hit hard. I tried to brush it off, but then someone recorded it and posted it online. I felt humiliated, Luke. And when I checked the comments... they were brutal. Nasty, hurtful things. It’s messing with my head, and I don’t know how to ignore it anymore. I’ve never been this insecure. But ever since we’ve been together, all I hear is that I’m not enough. Not pretty enough, not young enough, not enough to be your partner.”

Your voice catches, a quiet sob slipping through before you can stop it. The moment it does, Luke moves. He doesn’t hesitate—he just pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you like a shield. His hand finds the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your damp hair as he holds you close.

"I just… I wanted today to be about you, not about me." A shaky breath escapes you as you drop your gaze, fingers twisting nervously in your lap. "You played so well tonight, and all I wanted was to celebrate you. But instead, I let this—let them—get to me. And I hate that."

Luke exhales softly, his lips pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. When he speaks, his voice is quiet but sure, full of something unshakable.

“You are more than enough,” he murmurs, the words sinking into you like warmth on a cold night. “You always have been. You always will be. You’re everything to me.”

Luke doesn’t let go. His arms stay wrapped around you, his hand resting against the back of your head like he’s trying to shield you from the weight of the world. You don’t realize how tightly you’re clinging to him until he pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek.

For a moment, he just studies you, his gaze searching, like he’s trying to memorize every inch of your face. Then, without a word, he reaches over to his nightstand, pulling open the drawer. You watch as he hesitates for just a second before pulling something out, something small, something that glints under the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

A ring with a stunning, oversized diamond that catches the light with every movement.

Your breath faltered.

“I need you to listen to me,” Luke says, his voice steady but laced with something deeper—something raw, something real. He holds the ring between his fingers, turning it slightly so the light bounces off the metal. “I’m not asking you anything right now, okay? So don’t freak out.”

You blink, heart hammering in your chest.

He exhales, a quiet laugh escaping, but there’s no nervousness in his expression—only certainty. “I bought this after our first date.” His eyes flicker up to yours, searching for your reaction. “After you left my apartment that night… I just knew. I knew what I wanted. What I wanted with you.”

Your lips part, but no words come out.

Luke swallows hard, his fingers tightening around the ring like it holds the weight of everything he feels for you. His eyes never leave yours, soft yet unwavering, full of a love so deep it steals the breath from your lungs.

“I didn’t buy this because I thought we’d rush into anything,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “I bought it because from the moment you walked out of my apartment after our first date, I knew.” He pauses, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles, tracing invisible patterns on your skin. “I knew that someday, this is where we’d end up. That no matter how much time passed, no matter what life threw at us, it was always going to be you.”

Your throat tightens, tears pooling in your eyes, but they don’t fall—not yet.

Your breath catches, and Luke lifts your hand, pressing the ring into your palm, letting you feel the solid weight of it.

“You are my safe place,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your skin, warm and reassuring. “No matter what happens in my career—if I have the best season of my life or if I screw up every game—I know I get to come home to you. And that means more to me than anything.”

Your fingers tremble as they curl around the ring, feeling the cool metal press into your skin.

Luke’s lips twitch into a soft, knowing smile, his dimples peeking through. “I’m not asking you to marry me right now. I know you’d think it’s too soon, and I want to do this right—when you're ready. But I need you to know… this is my plan. You are my plan.” His voice drops lower, thick with love, with certainty. “I want to spend my life with you. I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep with you every night. I want a house filled with love and warmth. And laughter—so much laughter.” His grin widens, eyes sparkling. “Kids' laughter. A lot of kids, running around, driving us crazy, making our house a home.”

A tear slips down your cheek, but you’re smiling, your heart so full it feels like it might burst.

Luke lifts a hand, gently wiping away the tear with his thumb before cupping your face. “I just needed you to know that no matter what anyone says, no matter what doubts creep into your head… you are everything I have ever wanted. And one day, when the time is right, I’m going to put this ring on your finger for real.” Luke’s thumb traces slow, soothing circles against your cheek, his gaze still locked onto yours. “Just promise me one thing,” he murmurs. “Be honest with me. Always. No more hiding when you’re hurting, no more keeping things in because you think you have to protect me. We’re a team, okay? You and me.”

Your heart swells at his words, the sincerity in his eyes making it impossible to look away. You nod, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Okay,” you whisper. “I promise.”

And then, the words just spill out—because how could you not say them?

“I love you, Luke.” Your voice is full of emotion, thick with everything you feel for him. “I love you so much it scares me sometimes.” A watery laugh escapes as you shake your head. “And I know it sounds ridiculous, but I want this too. The house, the laughter, the kids running around and driving us insane. I want all of it. With you.”

Luke’s smile is so wide, so full of love, that it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs. But you’re not done. Because it’s not just the big things—it’s the little things too.

“I love how you have to eat the same exact snack after every game because you’re convinced it’s good luck, even though you definitely don’t need it,” you tease, nudging him playfully. “I love the way you belt out the wrong lyrics to every song in the shower like you’re performing at Madison Square Garden.”

Luke lets out a laugh, shaking his head, but you can see the way his ears turn red.

“And I love that you send me the dumbest texts—even when we’re literally in the same apartment,” you add with a grin. “Like, do you really need to text me just to ask if we have ice cream when you could just open the freezer?”

His laugh is full and unguarded, his arms tightening around you as he buries his face in your neck. “Okay, that one’s fair,” he admits, voice muffled against your skin.

You tilt your head back, looking at him, feeling completely at home in his arms. “I love all of you, Luke. The good, the bad, the absolutely ridiculous.” Your voice softens as your fingers trace along his jaw. “And no matter what happens—no matter what anyone says—you’ll always be my favorite thing.”

Luke exhales, his forehead resting against yours, his hands holding you like he never wants to let go. “You have no idea how much I love you,” he whispers.

You smile, tilting your chin up just enough to brush your lips against his. “I think I do.”And when he kisses you, slow and deep, you know without a doubt—this is it. This is home. He is home.

[edwin-paynes-bowtie]

Guess who I got in the mail today!

CHARLES FUNKO !!!!

(I already had the Edwin, so I'm going to spend this post waxing poetic about Charles)

He looks AMAZING! I love all the details on his jacket (which I zoomed in on so you could see) and the artist made the bag of tricks for me too!

He's so beautiful and I love him SO MUCH. Thank you @haventhornfalls ❤️💙

Here they are in the bigger shrine! Their permanent home on my shelf. ❤️

[aaronthefishcat]

Thank you so much, I really needed this today. Brought tears to my eyes.

@averygaycat @dragonairice @alsoflick @vinci-the-dragon I don’t know many people on Tumblr but these ones deserve love. ❤️ love you all

positivity train!

if you see this or are tagged in it, tag a couple of your favorite mutuals/blogs and let them know you appreciate seeing them on your dash!

@h0neysugarfree @blueberrylovv @bequiteanddriveeeeeee @cherri-bomb-bomb @eg0mechan1c @fatrexicisback

[messymoonmad]

Hey I have a question...... would you ever make more epic animatics? Such as: Little Wolf, ruthlessness, and Odysseus? Because honestly I just re watched your hold them down and get in the water animatics and they are fire.... I've been watching them on repeat.....

@jollykoowe AAAAH! I LOVE THE WAY YOU DREW EURYMACHUS HERE!! ❤️ ♥️

Thank you so much for asking ! I'm currently (supposedly) working on Odysseus. After that, I might animate wyfilwma cause I loooove expressions, and that song is FILLED with feelings... if I work fast enough, I might animate clips of antinous and telemachus in legendary and little wolf, but definitely not the whole song.

I also plan on making memes animations. Kinda like an EPIC "on crack" video (if you got the ref you're so old just like me)

[heeikeuu]

── .✦ ENHYPEN DRABBLE; When You Play Love&DeepSpace

۶ৎ featuring – enha x fem!reader

۶ৎ genre – fluff, romance, slice of life

note: hai people, I'm new to writing fanfics, but I hope you enjoy this <3

HEESEUNG ᝰ.ᐟ

You were lying in bed giggling at your phone while your boyfriend was gaming. "Nightly Rendezvous" banner teasers just dropped, and u were watching them with the volume a little too high that heeseung heard and got curious. He sneakily decided to check out the commotion. His eyes were wide, and jaw dropped. "Baby, what are you doing?" He asked, making u flinch in surprise, "Jesus christ, seungie, you scared my soul off my body." Upon seeing how red your face got your boyfriend smirked, suddenly you're trapped in the bed with his hands on either side of your head. Looking up at him like a deer caught in headlight, "I didn't know u were into stuff like this?" The question really was rhetorical but you just sheepishly smiled at him and grabbed your phone, "he reminds me of u a lot" you showed him Rafayel, your boyfriend is taken aback at first but soon shakes his head and giggles at you. "At least now I know what you do when you miss me." You lightly slapped his arm before giving him a peck on the lips, not really disagreeing with his statement.

JUNGWON ᝰ.ᐟ

Jungwon was lying beside you in bed. Both of you on your phones and just enjoying each other's presence after a long hectic day at work. You were busy trying to pull for Xavier's limited myth after saving up for a long time that you didn't realize your boyfriend got bored of his phone eventually and was watching you instead. Suddenly, your boyfriend spoke, "Which cards you aiming for?" Looking up from your phone, you notice his eyes on you and smile softly, "I want to get Xavier's limited myth, Lumiere is so hot" your boyfriend blinked at you for a few seconds before giggling, "not more than me though, right?" He asked teasingly while poking your arm, but you definitely caught on to the double meaning. "Of course not, wonie, nobody is hotter than you, silly." You stated as a matter of fact while looking at him through your lashes, "y-yeah" stumbling on his words a little he smiles sheepishly and pulls you closer with his head on your shoulders, landing a small kiss there, "don't mind me."

JAY ᝰ.ᐟ

Jay was in his office. It was break time, and he opened his phone to see what his fiance was doing. He noticed her newest post update saying she really wanted to collect new outfits for her mc, shaking his head lightly and smiling. Being the gentleman he is, he sent her money to buy that outfit and more, whatever her heart pleased. He loved spoiling her rotten, and he was well aware of that and didn't mind. You heard your phone ding while doing your makeup, you eyes widened seeing what your boyfriend texted, "I noticed you wanted new outfits for your mc so here's some money to get whatever you want, darling ❤️" with $500 sent to your account. You quickly texted him back, thanking him and saying he really didn't have to. A call interrupted your thoughts. It was your fiance, picking it up quickly. "Hi darling, just wanted to let you know that I will be heading home a little late today due to an emergency meeting so please make sure to eat well and don't stay up too late waiting for me." You hummed in agreement, "I need words, darling" blushing at his words, "okay, I promise." "Good, also make sure to show me your cute mc outfits later." Smiling to yourself at his thoughtfulness, you agreed, and the call ended. Kicking your feet and rolling in bed like a maniac, you thanked your lucky stars for giving you a real life Zayne.

JAKE ᝰ.ᐟ

Jake just came home from practice, hearing your fast footsteps after yelling, "Baby, I'm home." He smiled warmly, seeing you run into his arms. "I miss you, baby, and I have so much to talk to you about!" You exclaimed excited. Holding you up with one arm, he smiled back at you. You were his little fluff ball of energy. He already knew you were going to talk his ear off about Sylus later, but he didn't mind at all because he loved seeing how you got all nerdy about your interests. After taking a shower and eating dinner together, he sat on the couch with her in his arms as she started explaining the whole lore to him with a PowerPoint ready on her ipad. Giggling at how cute she is being. She let out a sigh "jakey are you listening? This is super important!" You stressed, and your boyfriend looked at you sweetly, "I'm listening, baby. Please continue. What happened next?" He always matched your energy, and you loved this about him. No matter how tired he was, he was never too tired to listen to his girl yap about whatever for hours.

SUNGHOON ᝰ.ᐟ

You were scrolling through tiktok during your break until you stumbled upon an edit of zayne with enha's song. Letting out a gasp, you excitedly sent the link to your husband while giggling. The familiar sound of your notifications filled the quiet office room. Already knowing its sunghoon, you smiled and opened the chat. "I see you're having fun, but I'm here suffering missing my pretty girl," you mentally face palmed at his cute antics. Deciding to tease him a bit, you responded, "Can't a girl have two husbands?" And the next lines of texts of him went like "oh my god. My wife hates me. She wants me to die. Goodbye, world." Chucking at his dramatic behavior, you decided to call him. He picked up almost immediately, "Hi Zaynie~" you chimed in a teasing tone, you heard your husband sigh, "hello to you too wifey, now would you please mind finishing your work early because your husband is going to die waiting for you at home." You always loved how dramatic and cute sunghoon was, people often thought he was cold at first but to you he was a grade S soap opera actor, and you wouldn't trade the world for him. You always told him that and whenever he asked, "What about Zayne then?" You jokingly told him,"know your limits." But deep down, you were grateful your man always supported your interests despite acting sulky at times.

SUNOO ᝰ.ᐟ

You were laser focused on trying to win kitty cards against Caleb that you didn't notice your boyfriend was calling for you from the bathroom. It was nighttime, and usually time for your skin care routine together. "Princess, can you hear me?" He asked worriedly. He came into view with a face mask and his arms crossed. "What's so important it has your mind preoccupied like this?" He questioned, but you quickly brushed him off saying "wait I'm trying to beat caleb in kitty cards, and he's driving me crazy!! He keeps freezing me and stealing my points!" Your frustrated tone made sunoo chuckle before coming closer and taking your phone away, gasping you look up, "sunoo please baby just this one round," "You said that like 2 rounds ago, baby, come on, it's time to take your makeup off. I promise after we can beat him up together." Puffing your cheeks, you agreed. "Okay, but since you're better at kitty cards, you better win all!" You pointed your finger at your boyfriend who took your hand and kissed it softly, humming in agreement. Smiling at him while you both went to finish your night routine.

RIKI ᝰ.ᐟ

Sitting on riki's lap, you let out sighs making sure your boyfriend could hear you. Riki glanced down at you from the TV, "what's wrong, you big baby?" You were having a hard time passing the open orbit battles and started getting extra frustrated. "Ki, I can't seem to pass this level no matter what I do!" You expressed, "here, let me try, angel." He sweetly offered, and you let him help. You watch him intently choose the cards and weapons, and start the battle. Your heartbeat spiking as you watched the timer count to 10, and the wanderer's HP was like 3 hits away from victory, which is where you kept failing. "Fucking bitch" you heard your boyfriend mutter under his breath and you closed your eyes dramatically scared of losing, "LET'S GOOO" you suddenly heard him say, opening your eyes, you saw the screen flash "victory" and you jumps his bones while thanking him all giddy, "fear not baby, no matter how hard the boss battle is, nishimura will always prevail" he says proudly making u giggle at his silliness, "of course, baby" you kiss his cheek and returned to your game but noticed through your peripheral vision him blushing with a smile he failed to hide.

© heeikeuu | likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡

[jobean12-blog]

@dirtylilsecretfic thank you so much lovely🥰❤️

Birds of a Feather

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (friends to lovers)

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: You have to attend a close relative's wedding and there's no one better to bring than your best friend, Bucky.

Author's Note: Seeing so much of happy Seb lately-and looking so good-made me want to write something sexy and fluffy so here we are. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thanks Daisy!🥰

Warnings: soft and sweet, tense and flirty, Bucky is the best in every way!

‘Come on up. Room 322.’

His thumbs hang limply over the phone screen, his brain going blank.

When he sent the text ten seconds earlier to let you know he’s arrived he figured you would meet him down in the lobby or at the hall.

Meeting you in the hotel room is a problem he anticipated when he gave himself a pep talk before leaving.

“She’s your best friend. Don’t do anything stupid…like go to the hotel room.”

His fingers finally start to move over the letters. ‘I can meet you down here…’

But maybe you need help with something?

He deletes the text, now typing, ‘is there anyone with you?,’ but that just sounds weird and possessive.

‘I can see you typing,’ you text. ‘Just come up. I need help.’

With a laugh, he deletes everything again and types simply, ‘be right there doll.’

His long legs carry him quickly to the elevator and when he presses the button for the third floor he takes a deep breath, his pulse climbing it’s way up his throat.

The door to your room is propped open with the dead bolt, but he knocks anyway.

“Come in Buck!”

Pushing it open just enough to peek his head in, he calls out, “I could be anyone, and you just invite me in without checking!”

“You just texted me you were coming up,” you sing from the bathroom, quickly continuing before he can say more, “and most of the people on his floor are friends or relatives here for the wedding.”

“Well, I’m glad to know you take your safety as seriously as I do,” he shouts back.

Your voice gets louder as you walk into the bedroom. “With you around I never have to worr…”

You stop for a breath when you see him, but your next words are lost to the blank void of his brain as he takes in your dress and how you look in it. To put it simply- stunning.

“Bucky?”

He startles, having no idea how long he’d been silent.

“Yeah doll…that’s…I’m here.”

When he finally drags his eyes to your face, you’re fighting a smile. “I asked if you could help me?”

“Oh, right. Sure. With what exactly?”

He cringes but steps closer.

“My dress?”

You turn around to show him the fabric at the back that hangs open, a tiny zipper dangling down at your lower back.

Trying to suppress a groan, but not being entirely successful he swallows hard. “That zipper looks very tiny.”

“It is,” you agree. “I realize I should have asked someone with smaller hands to help me out, but everyone is running around with their own nonsense so here we are.”

He approaches with a casual, “sure, of course doll.”

But then he does something without fully realizing it until the shiver runs along your back: he drags a knuckle down the curve of your spine.

You turn and look at him over your shoulder.

He just blinks and looks down to grab the zipper, mumbling about how small it is.

It’s quiet as he carefully pulls the zipper up and when he reaches the top he lets it fall and gently runs a finger along the top of the dress as he moves around to look at you.

“All set,” he whispers.

You smile and clear your throat before giving him an appreciative once over.

“You look hot.”

“Thanks doll. You…” and he struggles when his voice comes out a bit strangled, “you look breathtaking.”

You reach up and touch his bow tie, pulling at the neatly tied ends as you tell him, “I was hoping you’d arrive a flustered mess over how to tie this so I could do it for you.”

With a grin, he reaches up and tugs the end, untying it in a smooth pull.

“Figure you should do something in return after I battled that zipper,” he teases.

Still smiling, you take a hold of the tie, tugging it to align the ends evenly around his neck. “I didn’t get the impression it was such a hardship.”

His answering smirk is so telling you have to stifle a laugh.

“Are you feeling ready for this? I know these big events aren’t your favorite.”

“I’ll manage just fine doll, thanks. Besides, I’ve got the most beautiful date in the whole place.”

With your focus still on his bow tie he takes the opportunity to openly stare. When you smile at his sweet words he’s mesmerized by the way your soft lips part and his eyes stay glued to your mouth.

You look up to meet his gaze and he quickly lifts his eyes, a light pink sweeping across his cheeks.

You blink away and he looks down at your hands, noting the very little progress you’ve made.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”

“Well…yes. I’m sure I can…”

“You’ve never done this before, have you?”

“You might be right!,” you quip, “but I’m no quitter.”

He’d be happy to stand there all night.

You finally step back, surveying your work, and frown. “I’m going to be honest, not sure I made it look as good as you did.”

He looks down and undoes the mess and you glower as he handily fixies it.

“Wow, no need to gloat you butthead.”

He lets out a full-bodied laugh, eyes crinkled, and nose scrunched, and you enjoy the sight before he explains, “I’ve done it a million times. I’m always the one in the tux when we go undercover.”

“That’s because you’re the one that looks the best.”

“Thanks doll,” he answers quietly.

“There are so many people here,” you whisper as you lead him through the crowd in the hall.

He let’s out a low whistle, nodding in agreement and aking in the décor.

You greet people as you walk, introducing Bucky to those that don’t already know him. Their eyes follow you, curiosity piqued in their expression as they wonder who he is to you.

You wonder the same. Your favorite person in the world. Your best friend…and so much more?

You take his elbow and guide him forward toward the outside set up where the ceremony will take place. On the way you find your grandmother and introduce him.

Since he can’t take his eyes off you he notices the subtle shift in your demeanor, the softening of your face and the adoration in your eyes.

He expects a gentle handshake but instead gets pulled in for a hug.

“Oh darling, isn’t he a sight,” you grandma says, patting Bucky’s cheek. “And you,” she says, turning her eyes your way. “Gorgeous.”

“Thanks grandma,” you beam.

A woman whizzes by, catching your eye and pointing to her watch.

“Looks like it’s time,” you announce.

Bucky holds out one arm for your grandma and the other for you.

“And a gentleman too,” your grandma gushes as she loops her arm through his. “Definitely a keeper.”

“You can keep grandma company,” you say as you approach the chairs.

“Of course, doll,” he says and leans in to kiss your cheek before helping your grandma into her seat.

“I’ll see you after the ceremony.” You gather your dress and turn to head back inside to meet the wedding party. “Miss me,” you call over your shoulder with a playful smile.

He stares as you walk away, quietly admitting, “I already do.”

Slight nerves take over when you hear the music start but the moment you walk out into the crowd your eyes zero in on Bucky. And what do you know? He’s looking right back at you…and he doesn’t take his eyes off you the whole ceremony.

After the ceremony it takes forever to work your way through the crowd to him, and in between catching up with friends and family or directing someone somewhere, you catch glimpses of him smiling and laughing with your grandma and happily keeping her company.

When you finally do reach him, your grandma has been safely escorted to her seat and now a woman hangs off his arm- Jessica. You know her, an old family friend, and you like her well enough, but you step up behind them right as she asks Bucky if she can steal him for the first dance, and your stomach drops.

You jerk to a stop. He hasn’t seen you. He should accept. You’ll hate it, but you’re not in any position to protest.

But then Bucky says only a gentle, “sorry, no can do. Tonight, I’ve only got one dance partner.”

Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest, and you step closer, swallowing down the emotion.

“Hey you two!”

Bucky turns, extracting his arm from Jessica and setting a warm palm at your lower back.

“And here she is. My favorite dancing partner.”

Jessica leans around from his other side and says hello.

“Thanks for coming,” you tell her.

“Oh my god, of course. I wouldn’t miss it. And I was just meeting your friend, James, here.”

She emphasizes the word friend and at her usage of his real name you have to hold back a giggle.

“Isn’t he wonderful,” you hum, sliding your hand up his bicep. “He’s been keeping my grandmother company this whole time.”

She swoons and smiles at Bucky before turning back to you.

“He is. I just wasn’t expecting you to have a date. You’re usually always flying solo at these family events.”

You feel the smile slipping from your face and an uncomfortable laugh escapes.

The simple answer never comes to you, and you feel caught like a deer in the headlights.

“Actually, that’s only because I was away for work,” Bucky steps in smoothly. “I hate to miss any chance to be her date, but my schedule can be pretty demanding sometimes.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet,” Jessica says. “Work is important of course.”

“Yeah,” he answers, “but not as important as her. So, from now I won’t be missing another event.”

Jessica’s face does a thing. It’s a barely restrained, ‘oh okay, I see.’

Bucky’s smile remains but it doesn’t look entirely natural anymore but when he looks at you, every emotion on his face is genuine.

“Ready to find our seats doll face,” he asks you.

“Sure,” you reply.

“Well, it was nice to meet you Jennifer. Enjoy the party.”

With a firm hand, he leads you away. You allow yourself to be guided up the grassy path and indoors to where a band plays. Bucky grabs you two flutes of champagne off a passing tray and hands you one.

“That was swoony,” you tell him then take a sip.

“All I did was grab it from a tray doll. Time to raise your bar a bit.”

Laughing, you smack his beefy shoulder with your free hand. “Not that! The way you gently let Jennifer have it back there.”

He takes a sip, eyes on you. “She deserved worse, but I didn’t want to start trouble.”

With your brow raised you match his mischievous grin then you take his glass and set it down on one of the small tables, leading him to the dance floor.

He looks confused at first but when your hands slide up his chest and around his neck he circles his arms around your waist.

He relaxes against you, hands warm and strong on your lower back and you rest your cheek to his shoulder.

“You’re always so comfy.”

“Thank you.”

“And you always look out for me.”

He presses a kiss to your temple.

“Of course, doll.”

“You’re my favorite person in the Universe.”

He doesn’t respond at first, not for five or ten or thirty seconds. You keep waiting for the feeling of rejection in his silence but instead it feels like an agreement and finally his words confirm it.

“Mine too, doll.”

Your quiet slow dance is the last moment alone you have for the next few hours because what follows is a whirlwind of a reception.

And the whole time he can’t take his eyes off you.

“Think I’m ready to get out of here,” you say as you slump against his side.

He carefully holds you up as he stands and reaches to take your hand.

“Come on doll face. I’ll take you home.”

When you reach your apartment door your feet are aching, and your legs are tired. You retrieve your key from the hidden pocket in your small purse and slide it into the doorknob.

“I’m going to need you to unzip me,” you say, gesturing casually to your dress.

His silence makes you slowly turn around to face him and when you meet his eyes they’re heavy with heat and desire.

“Bucky?”

“Turn back around,” he says gruffly.

You do as your told and feel his exhaled puff of air against your bare shoulder before he takes your wrists in this hands and places your palms flat against the door. His metal fingers slide down one arm then trace the curve of your shoulder, while his other toys with the small zipper.

He starts to pull it down, so slowly, you feel every brush of his skin against yours and it sends a tremble across your body. For every new inch of your skin that he exposes his breath quickens. You can feel the heat of him so close and your fingers press into the hard wood of the door.

Once the fabric hangs loosely at the sides he stops and slips his hands inside to your waist and turns you back to face him.

“You’re so soft,” he murmurs. “I…”

You drag your fingers along his temple and down his jaw. Your finger falls to his bottom lip, tracing it’s outline.

You can see it in his eyes, the understanding that everything between you is easy and you don’t have to try. It’s too good.

Your gaze drops to his lips again and your mouth goes soft. “Kiss me Bucky.”

The words are just barely out of your mouth and he’s already leaning in, lips on yours, warm and urgent, his hands rising to cup your face. Your instincts send tight, possessive fists to the lapels of his jacket and you melt completely into the domination and tenderness in his touch.

With a quiet groan he tilts his head, deepening the contact into a decadent slide, sending a hungry hand down your body once again and grabbing your ass to press all your softness against the hard planes of his body.

He catches your bottom lip between his teeth, drags slowly away, and you chase the contact, but he stops you, pressing his thumb over your lips.

He stares for what feels like forever, then kisses you again, lingering before he murmurs, “you’re so beautiful,” into the sensitive skin below your ear, and then repeats it quietly into your neck.

“Are you going to stay the night?” you ask breathless.

“If you’ll have m…”

“Yes. Yes Bucky.”

[jobean12-blog]

A Lesson in Temptation

Pairing: Reed Richards x female reader (Professor AU)

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: You're not happy with the grade you received on your most recent paper in Professor Richards class so you pay him a visit to sort it out (PS these two are already in an established relationship-most likely keeping it quiet lol and she's not necessarily a lot younger than him- as a matter of fact probably a grad student so could be any age you want bc we can go back to school whenever we want! :)

Author's Note: I had originally posted this with Javi in mind but it tanked royally and I just decided to chuck it and then after the Fantastic 4 trailer came out the picture below gave me some simple inspo and I tweaked it a bit and ended up here! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: it has some plot but it's mostly pwp lol, light dirty talk, and dom for both reader and Reed, p in v (wrap it up), and there is softness bc it's me

The faint scent of chalk and something sweeter wafts around you as you step through the door and into his office. Your eyes land on him instantly, and your heart jumps at sight.

He’s sitting behind his desk, leaning back in his chair, hands fiddling with a broken piece of chalk as he stares off at the far wall. His dark hair is tousled as if he’s been running his fingers through it. Your own twitch at your sides.

He looks relaxed, but the frown that pulls at his lips tells you otherwise.

“Professor…” you start. “Are you busy?”

With a hum, his eyes open, meeting yours, their intensity making your steps falter.

“Depends…” he says, not moving from his position.

He remains quiet, his unwavering regard feeling like a physical weight. Your pulse hammers and you step closer, making your way slowly around his desk toward him.

“Sweetheart,” he starts, his tone unexpectedly gentle. “I’m…”

“Stop talking,” you interrupt.

His brows draw together, and his dark gaze follows as you move between his legs.

“What can I do for you?” he asks.

You don’t respond, trailing your fingers down his face and then closing them around his tie, giving it a slight tug to draw him closer. His eyes drift closed, an almost imperceptible sigh escaping his lips as he surrenders to your touch.

You straddle his lap, and his muscles tense under you before he spreads his legs, providing you more space to settle onto him, his hands leaving the armrests to close around your waist.

Your arms wrap around his neck, and you bring yourself closer, chest pressed to his, and lean in, kissing his neck softly.

His eyes open, and he looks at you through long lashes.

“What game are you playing right now, sweetheart?”

You kiss him again, just below his ear, and his breathing grows shallow. His hands flex at your waist and he murmurs your name in warning.

“Be quiet,” you order. “If you don’t like this then stop me. Otherwise, zip it.”

His gaze grows dark with desire, and he stays silent.

Your hands find his tie once again and you fumble with the fabric until you have it untied, opening the top buttons of his shirt so it falls open to expose his chest. His muscles grow taut as you press a hand to his skin before slowly dragging it down to the waistband of his pants.

You keep your eyes locked on his face the entire time, watching him react to your attention. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip in anticipation.

His hands grip your waist, using you as leverage to tilt his hips up, grinding into you.

“No,” you say, pulling your hand from his now open belt.

“I’m going to ride you and you’re going to sit there quietly and keep your hands to yourself.”

His fingers dig into your skin for a moment and then he releases you, returning his hands to the armrests.

You push yourself off him to undress, starting with your shirt, slipping it over your head then moving to the zipper at the back of your skirt. You continue until you’re completely bare, and his heated gaze never leaves an inch of your skin.

Your hands go back to his belt, unbuckling it until his cock springs free, hot, and thick between your fingers. You can’t hide your reaction, your lips parting and your breath catching in your throat.

“Stay dressed,” you tell him, trying to keep yourself in control.

He smirks and shifts in the chair, so you have more room to sit. You place your hands on his shoulders, using him for balance as you straddle him again.

With an unsteady breath your gaze catches his and you reach between your bodies, taking him in your hand. At first you tease him, rubbing the head of his cock along your wetness until it coats him.

He lets out a low, impatient groan and his knuckles turn white with the grip he has on the chair.

You sink onto him, taking him all at once and relishing in the burning stretch. He inhales sharply and you watch the muscles in his throat work with his hard swallow. To his credit he remains still as you adjust to him, your legs already shaking.

“I love you like this Professor,” you whisper, lifting yourself.

He moans in response, and you sink back down. Increasing the pace, you slide up and down, gasping softly at the feel of him so deep. Every roll of your hips pulls another sultry sound from his parted lips.

Your fingers ghost along the broad width of his shoulders and down across the open buttons of his shirt. He bucks his hips, but you remind him not to move with a breathless warning.

His body trembles, the veins in his forearms prominent with his exertion of restraint. The sight has you moving faster, the need to watch him unravel making you frantic.

“Kiss me.”

He wastes no time in bringing his lips to yours, kissing you roughly and desperately. You spread your legs wider, trying to take him deeper and deeper. He lets out a hoarse groan against your lips, catching your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down.

His breathing becomes more labored, his moans increasing in between kisses as you roll your hips. You break the kiss, taking his jaw in your hand.

“Look at me. Tell me how good this is.”

His broken moan is all you hear before he finds his words.

“You have no idea how good this is, how good you feel gorgeous. I can’t get enough.”

He bucks his hips again, his restraint slipping.

“Don’t,” you warn.

His head falls back, and you lean forward to lay kisses and soft nips along his neck.

“I need you to do something for me Professor Richards,” you say, forcing yourself to focus.

His only response is the slight tilt of his head as sweat begins to bead along his brow.

“The grade you gave me on my gravitational lensing paper…”

His brows furrow, a small sign that he’s pushing through his haze of pleasure. You slow your movements to a teasing pace, making him savor every roll of your hips.

“I need you to change it.”

His parted lips move but nothing more than a strangled groan passes them, and you stop your movements.

“Well?”

“Why would I do that gorgeous?”

His voice is strained, and you start to pick up your pace again as you drag your nails down his chest and press your lips to his jaw, tracing the strong outline until you meet his ear.

“Because I should have gotten an A+.”

He growls out a curse but doesn’t respond so you stop moving again.

“Say you’ll do it, and I’ll let you touch me,” you purr.

With his jaw clenched tightly he holds your gaze, eyes dark and full of heat.

“Fine,” he hisses. “Now…say it. Tell me I can touch you.”  

You nod, feeling your release build.

“Say it!” he hisses.

“Touch me Professor.”

One of his hands grabs your ass, gripping it tightly, and he rises from the chair throwing you down on his desk. He spreads your legs, angling them back to push deeper.

He pounds into you, and you cry out at the intensity of his pace, loving how he’s taking over complete control now. He gathers your wrists in his hand and pins them above your head. His free hand slips between your legs to rub your clit.

You close your eyes, trying to breathe through the overwhelming sensations, feeling your orgasm grow closer. Your back bows as it washes over you, but he doesn’t slow his pace, his dark hair sticking to his forehead as he grunts, “again.”

Your eyes fly open. “I can’t Reed,” you pant.

“You can baby.”

His fingers continue to work over your clit, swollen and oversensitive.

“You’re going to come for me again,” he murmurs. “Beg me for it.”

“Reed…”

“That wasn’t a request,” he warns, and he slams into you hard enough to move the desk.

“Please,” you whisper.

“Louder,” he says.

“PLEASE!”

“You can do better than that gorgeous.”

“Please make me come Professor.”

He strokes you a few more times, pushing deep, and you come around him, feeling your legs give out even under his support.

His jaw tightens and his low rumbling grunt is all the warning you get before he spills inside you, filling you up.

He lets go of your legs, gently resting them along the desk on either side of him and leans over you. He presses butterfly kisses to your collarbone, lazily rocking inside you before pulling out.

After cleaning you up he helps you to stand, tucking you against his chest and pressing his warm palm to your cheek, sweeping his thumb along your jaw then kisses the soft skin below your ear.

“Is this how you plan to beg for all your grades from now on?”

“No.”

He smirks and you dip your head to his neck, burying it there with an inhale. His thumb brushes the inside of your wrist as he takes your hand in his, kissing each fingertip.

“I knew what you were up to the moment you walked in here,” he whispers.

“That’s why you gave me a B…you knew I’d march down here to get what I deserve.”

“Whatever the reason you came here I wouldn’t have been able to stop you anyway sweetheart.”

You pull back, searching his gaze, a sassy quip at his soft words dying on your tongue at the unbridled desire you find in his eyes.

“You have a dangerous amount of power over me…and all I want is more of you,” he murmurs against your lips.

[greyhands]

I just want you to know that your art . your art continues to blow my mind every day. I found you through the Arcana fandom and I have yet to see any out-of-game Asra art as gorgeous as yours 😭😭❤️ Your proportions, your postures, your expressions, your coloring, your clothing..... I aspire to reach your level of artistic talent every time I pick up a pencil (and thank you for satiating my hunt for Asra content) MUCH LOVE ❤️❤️

Ah, thank you so much, I’m really touched by your message, which helps me especially during this difficult time, when I’m doubting my artistic abilities (and my career in general, with the economic crisis, artificial intelligence, all that stuff…).

Asra will always be a comforting character for me to draw, and it makes me really happy to be able to share my drawings with other fans ♡( ◡‿◡ )

I also recommend checking out the illustrations of @arimesi and @mr-ame if you don’t know them, I’ve always loved their way of drawing Asra.

I wish you the best on your own drawing journey and I thank you again with this little drawing of Asra as a parent (it’s a bit old, but I’d never posted this one before) :

[amagialp]

heya!! hope you’re doing good! i loveddd the piercings request and thought id raise you: simon, konig, and johnny’s reactions to your new tattoo! specifically a lower back tattoo (may or may not be influenced by the fact that i just got tramp stamp last week) 🫣 my fiance is obsessed with it if u know what i mean :3

HII sorry for late reply i was on a short hiatsu! but i love this idea and thank you for blessing my inbox with it❤️

(requests open, and also MINORS DNI, GRAMMARLY USED)

Johnny

The first time Johnny sees it, he's immediately on you. A low whistle, hands gripping your waist, thumbs brushing over the ink like he’s memorizing it.

"Ohh, now what’s this, sweetheart? Didn’t tell me you went and got something so filthy on that pretty skin of yours."

His voice is all teasing, but his grip tightens when you move, keeping you right where he wants you. Before you know it, he’s on his knees behind you, dragging your waistband lower, pressing hot kisses to the space just beneath it.

"This is gonna be my favorite spot," he murmurs against your skin, voice low and reverent. "Gonna make sure you remember that."

König

König doesn’t say much at first. Just lets those huge hands of his ghost over your back, tracing the ink with a silent fascination. But when he finally speaks, it’s thick with something possessive.

"You let someone mark you here?" His fingers press, just enough for you to feel the heat of them. "Right where I hold you down? Right where I bend you over?"

It drives him mad. He gets fixated, tugging up your shirt at any given moment just to look at it, running his tongue along the ink when he’s got you bare beneath him. When he finally loses himself, he makes sure you feel every inch of him press against that sensitive spot, making you associate the sting of the tattoo with the pleasure he drowns you in.

Ghost

Ghost doesn’t react at first, just stares, dark eyes locked onto your lower back like he’s committing it to memory. His gloved fingers brush over the ink, slow and deliberate, tracing the edges with a kind of reverence that sends a shiver up your spine.

"Didn’t think you could get any prettier," he murmurs, voice rough, almost strained. "Guess I was wrong."

And then he’s on you...a firm grip at your hips, his mouth hot against the ink, tongue tracing the fresh lines like he’s tasting the mark. He doesn’t just look, he claims, dragging you into his lap, making sure you feel how much he likes it. When he finally pulls back, lips swollen from the attention he’s lavished on your skin, his gaze flicks up to yours, dark and heavy.

He exhales sharply, fingers pressing into your skin like he’s grounding himself. "Hope you know what you’ve done, love. ‘Cause now I’ll never stop touching it."

HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THIS IM OPEN FOR MORE SIMILAR ETC JS HOP ON INTO MY INBOX!:p

[tuttamialittlemsblog]

@dflogerzi What a handsome man. Military uniforms with knee high (riding?)boots really make a man look masculine. Great photo to have and share.

You have a wonderful family history I really appreciate you sharing your stories with me. Imagine your Great Great Grandfather leaving the country he grew up in and sail to the USA and to settle in South Dakota. That takes bravery. What a difference in scenery/climate even the local people were unique. I admire people who left safe places to homestead/buy land/start businesses. You mentioned him being buried in the plains with a very nice monument. In the summer I enjoy walking through one of our older city cemeteries…the giant trees and a partial view of the river it’s a beautiful spot to be buried. The amazing monuments of outstretched angel wings for a small child…a beloved wife. Cherubs sitting on headstones. Lovely thoughts/sayings about the person who has passed. The military section has horses/swords/guns/on the headstones. One of my favorites is the dog who served in one of the world wars.

Perhaps every generation feels this way like you I feel I traveled during a kinder time. I hope I can travel again the world is full of beautiful places to see. The artwork..the churches!

I’m always reminded what a gorgeous worldly woman in her 50’s told me when I was 18. “We had our days in the sunshine….now darling it’s time for you to shine”. ❤️

I like to think that’s us and we passed the torch. Thank you for your friendship and kindness. It means so very much to me. ❤️

Copenhagen, Denmark

[christinesficrecs]

Hey! You are amazing! Thank you for everything you do for the fandom!

Do you have any recommendations for cute fics where they have pet names for each other?

Thanks!

Hey! ❤️ These are the ones I have.

I love this one if you haven't read it yet. 🥰

Baby, You’re Like Lightning In A Bottle by TriskeleHale | 35.8K | Explicit

Derek is ninety-eight percent sure Stiles hates him. So, he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.

Sugar Pie (Honey Bunch) by larriecloudss | 2.6K

Stiles just really loves to annoy Derek with pet names.

Don’t Call Me Buttercup by ElloPoppet | 15.8K

Isaac wants to do Secret Santa. Derek is bad at gifts. Stiles helps, and also practices making Derek uncomfortable with awful, cutesy pet names along the way.

Derek secretly loves the pet names. Oh, and he loves Stiles as well.

The Moon’s Gonna Follow Me Home by turningterrific | 82.8K | Explicit

Derek doesn’t want to call the window repair guy. He doesn’t want to sweep up the glass. He’ll inevitably miss a few shards and pull them out of the bottom of his bare feet for weeks.

He doesn’t want to try to make this place feel like home when it isn’t.

Derek stayed in Beacon Hills and tried to make it work because he wanted pack, wanted purpose. He gave his best effort and found himself back where he started: alone, with a few begrudging allies. He’s tired, and even though his werewolf body heals quickly, he feels the weary ache down to his center.

He packs his car with the few things he cares about enough to drag them from place to place. He locks the loft and calls a realtor about listing the building he’d bought in a misguided attempt to secure a future.

And then he leaves.

Inside This Place Is Warm by wolfcloaks | 40K | Explicit

Where Derek and Stiles are complete dweebs in love and jump to horribly inaccurate conclusions

Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life Too by MereLoup | 82.9K | Explicit

Derek spent too much time, walking amongst the ashes of his life and refusing to move on into the future; refusing to move past the anguish. But somewhere along the way he found purpose, rebuilt this house, found his mate, and he realized that this didn’t have to be the end, that he could continue the legacy of the Hale pack and carry on the traditions and rebuild his life. And now, in this house, with his pack, he was beginning the next generation of the Hale Pack with the most incredible mate he could have ever dreamed of.

Six Minutes by  CosmoKid | 4.3K

“What do you want?” Derek practically grows when Stiles is near enough to hear. He can definitely feel the werewolf vibes coming from the guy as well as the fuck off vibes that roll off him in tsunami-sized waves.

Stiles has one thing he needs to say to Derek, but he also has eight million questions to ask him about the werewolf thing and he can barely sort out his thoughts as it is, let alone when there’s a ridiculously attractive werewolf who’s basically Adonis staring at him. Derek takes another drag of his cigarette and raises his eyebrows at Stiles expectantly. He shivers and blurts out, “Six minutes.”

salt and a waltz by  The Byger (Byacolate) | 7.4K

In which Stiles is a faerie and Derek is sick and tired of not being able to fuck him.

Hey Ewe by  wuffedoutalpha | 7.3K

In which Derek cares more than Stiles originally thought he did.

Or four times Derek sneaks Stiles gifts and the one time Stiles gets why (plus one).

Endearments and Interventions by  Captain_Loki | 1.2K

Stiles calls Derek “baby” one time, and exactly one time only. It goes a little like the time he clasped a hand to Derek’s shoulder in the front seat of the jeep only three years previously. Derek levels him with the same incredulous look of stunned disbelief as he did then.

Even the stars they burn by  rufflefeather | 5.7K

Derek finds out quite by accident what makes Stiles shut up. If he reveals along the way that he didn’t always carry this darkness around, then that’s entirely Stiles’ fault.

Back to Beacon Hills by  surrenderdammit | 10.4K

Stiles is a born werefox, returning to Beacon Hills with the hopes of starting over and finding some sort of home again. Maybe he can finally stay in one place long enough for his scent to catch.

[sealmunch]

(copying text in the image) Hi there.

It’s rough right now, physically n’ mentally a mess. We are working towards getting better, but we are swamped with work, debt and bills, and our family overall is struggling w/ money. We all need a breather and could really use some help financially so we can work, clean our place up cuz it’s bad, and heal. ❤️

We’re going through a lot in our head both good and bad, but we won’t give up that someday it’ll get better and be okay and we won’t have a billion problems at once.

Thank you so much for reading n sharing

Ko-Fi Link