#Space-saving packing tips

[seilon]

pro: ran into a coworker at a bar last night who I don’t really talk to usually (he works upstairs, I work downstairs) and we talked and im pretty sure we were highkey flirting and he bought me a drink and the bar merch shirt i was interested in and thanks to the power of alcohol i guess i asked for his number and he gladly gave it to me and. yeah

con: i have the second worst hangover i have ever had and have been fighting for my fucking life just to eat saltines

[dagonborn]

Traveling Packing Tips To Save Space

[planetsage]

NEW PIN ! ꒰ 🪷 LUST FOR LIFE 𖧧˚⋆ʚɞ ── choso kamo 𝜗𝜚 . . . SAVE ?

“and i was like take off, take off, take off all your clothes”

contains. nsfw so, minors and ageless blogs do not interact. f!reader. dom!choso / bsf!choso, kinda ooc, mentions of sex toys, solo masterbation, getting caught, m rec oral, deepthroat, spit, dirty talk, missionary, some possessiveness, overstimulation, creampie. 2k words.

choso realized early on in your friendship that he finds issues in locating exactly where the metaphorical line lies between you two.

he knows that, yes; he loves you with an unconditional devotion that scribbles color over every inch and corner of his life. if he could, he’d bring the moon down and bottle it up for you. in the shape of his love. he’d steal the stars.

but sometimes his brain cramps up in confusion because he shouldn’t be imagining how soft and clammy his best friend’s pretty little hands would feel wrapped around the girth of his cock, right?

he knows it’s wrong. he knows he’s just being gross; there’s always a subtle pang of guilt that strums and strings at his heart when he’s with you, but every time he stiffens at his very, very lively imagination, he just can’t help the tight grip, his thumbs rubbing little circles on his sensitive tip before moving with the rest of his fingers to jerk off to the pictures you send him throughout your day.

and you don’t make it any easier for him.

the way your touch lingers for too long, your gaze planting camellia seeds over the plot of his cheeks.

and now, he’s staying at your place while his ac gets fixed; he spent a grueling few days in the oppressive summer heat, sticky and sweaty, and couldn’t bear it any longer. naturally, like the great friend you are, you warmly offered up a guest bedroom to him. and he accepted.

he quickly went to pack a few days’ worth of clothes and toiletries. while scrambling around his room one last time to make sure he had everything, he saw the pink lip outline of the fleshlight he stuffs full almost every night; the fleshlight that he bought in your exact skin tone.

he almost brought it. almost. but decided it’d be rude to indulge himself like that in your guest bedroom after you so graciously offered the space to him. so he left it.

god, does he regret it now.

lying in bed after dinner where you must’ve been trying to kill him, wearing nothing but a little crop top and some boy-shorts underwear. the cotton mockingly hugging up on the cuff of your ass. doing nothing to clothe you.

even in the guest room, everything smells like you. the soft of the sheets, the silky pillows, hell, even the air. it’s too much. like your scent took a physical form to torture and encase his entire body.

“haaa … fu— fuck” his hips roll languidly against the plump mattress as he groans out, ravened locks falling all over the bones of his flushed face. he sinks his teeth into one of the pillows, drooling all over it, and screws his eyes shut to imagine how your pussy would feel letting him in, stretching around his cock, “nghh ... yea. just — just like that …”

sitting up, he pushes the heavy covers off of him; he’s hot, sweating under the thick duvet. pulling his shorts down because it’s too much. poor boy is too hard, throbbing and leaking all over your sheets with a pretty pink dusting his body, “shit..” he whispers sweetly, laying his warmed, wet tongue flat against his palms before wrapping around himself, almost whining at the contact.

he flicks his wrists rhythmically, his mouth bowing open at how loudly his messy cock squelches, filling the room, his hips canting up into his fists.

but he wishes it was you.

the pretty wings of his eyes flap and flutter shut, picturing the way the fat of your ass would bounce on him, how you’d cream all over his cock, “so fuckin’ messy for me— oh my god” wondering how you touch yourself. do you use your fingers? toys? he could probably fill you up way better than any plastic ever could .. do you ever think of him when you play with your pussy? “fuck— fuck fuck fuck”

his eyes peel back open to the door he purposefully left cracked. though he knows getting caught now, like this had the potential to ruin the entire friendship, he banks on the chance that you want him too. his head falls back against the wooden headboard like a marionette’s dropping from its strings. so caught up in making himself cum he doesn’t hear your feet shuffling, nearing the room.

the deep groans you heard from your room stirred you awake, urging you to check on him, pulling you closer and closer to the door until you’re right up by it. you can see his dark silhouette through the crack. your eyes growing big at how he’s quickly pumping himself.

you move closer; the door is only slightly ajar and something inside you wants to see more. hear more. your heart thumps rhythmically in the drums of your ears and your shoulder presses against the wood, causing a creek to sound and cut through his moans like velvet.

you freeze.

his eyes lock onto yours, and he freezes too. even though this is what he wished for deep down he didn't actually expect the stars to align, for better or worse.

your breathing picks up, your feet glued to the ground as if gravity hated you, rooting you in place. and choso can’t think of anything to say but a meek, “sorry” waiting and watching how you react:

your teeth clamp down to chew on the fat of your bottom lip. your breaths coming out in quick winds, big eyes falling to where his hand squeezes and coaxes out drops of sticky precum.

“… come here”

your upper body scrambles, almost leaving your legs behind as you pad towards him. crawling over the thrown sheets up onto the bed and it dips. behind your wispy lashes reveals fairytale like eyes because you’ve been wanting to have him like this for as long, if not longer, than he has.

he parts his thighs and you nestle between them without a word, moving your hands to his bare legs as they frame you; digging your nails into the taut muscles. as long as you’ve known him, choso has obsessively gone to the gym. vibrantly showing you basically nudes rebranded as ‘progress pictures.’ you squeeze his legs making him twitch, his hand moving to your chin, making you look up at him, “i want you .. to wrap these preetty lips,” his thumb moves to push and stroke against your bottom lip, “around my dick. been thinkin’ about them for so long. can you do that for me?” he’s groaning with a raw authority you’ve never heard or seen from him.

and it makes you so fucking wet.

you nod and he leans back, scooting his hips lower and spreading himself. “use your words. i don’t want this unless you do, too”

“yes. i want it so bad. want to make you feel good, cho” you grab his cock with both hands, warm and throbbing against your soft palms, before pushing it up against your flushed cheek, rubbing it against your pretty face.

“that’s it. i knew you’d want it, pretty girl. now show me”

you press light kisses to his flushed tip, up and down his length, watching keenly as he hisses at your little touches. whispering out a, “so pretty.”

he’s watched and replayed this scene so many times in his head; you laid out between his legs pressing puffed lips against his cock, but it doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing.

you stretch out your jaw, letting him plug up your warm mouth. his eyes roll so far back with a deep groan, your tongue laying flat on his veiny underside as you bob your head on him, your hand moving to massage and squeeze what doesn’t fit in your wet mouth, the other groping at his heavy balls, “fe— haah, feel so good.”

he’s already so close from earlier, raising his ass to buck into your little mouth even though you’re full of him. his tip knocking against the back of your throat making you whine out muffled, “hmph mhmm” ‘s

“don’t — shit. don’t talk with your mouth full, baby. take me all in, you can do it”

he grabs a fist full of your hair, pushing you all the way down making you gag, spit pooling and spilling out around where he clogs your little mouth up. tears line your eyes, spilling over your cheeks as he fills up your throat, “aht aht baby take it all. you’re almost there. c’mon ….. mhhmmm theeeeere you go”

you pull off of him gagging and coughing out glops of fat, foamy spit.

“oh ‘m sorry, sweet thing” he leans in to lick at the spit and tears dripping down the point of your chin before kissing you. his plump pink lips pressing so harshly against yours, tongue sliding greedily into your mouth licking at every corner. the clumsy wetness of it all has you panting as he pulls back, clear spit trailing from your mouths.

“please .. let me fuck you. been wanting to for so long”

his eyes sort of soften as they bore into yours, begging silently with a puppy like glow.

“ .. me too” you assure and he moves to guide you onto your back, grabbing your legs. he presses a sweet kiss to the base of your ankle, “mm. i’ll take such good care of this pretty pussy. ‘s mine now, right?

“yes .. yes, choso. fuck me. ‘m all yours”

he pushes your little thong to side to smear his swollen fat tip against your messy folds, pushing up against your clit “so wet f’me baby .. i did that? you liked having me down your throat that much?”

“hnngg, cho— stop teasing”

then, he realized that you came into the room with nothing but an oversized tee. and a cute little thong. for him. slapping his cock against your pretty cunt three times before smearing against your folds again.

he sinks into your warmth with a long, drawn out, “fuuuuuucckk” at how your little pussy opens up for him, squeezing him so tight. and he’s so big. stretching you out, dragging his fat length against your pinky walls, pushing his hips into yours until he fully bottoms out.

his hands dig into your skin, so rough he might leave bruises because he’s trying so hard to keep himself grounded and not dump his cum into you right this moment. you feel so good. too good.

he moves slowly at first. letting your pussy adjust to him as his thumb swipes against your clit, easing him in. “‘s almost there, baby, you can do it. let me in, pretty girl”

he continues to pet your clit, then you look up into his eyes. and they stare back into yours. dark purple swirled around pools of black, “harder”

that’s all he needed to hear.

his hips harshly slam into yours, your body arching up to meet his deep strokes. angling to make sure the sweet curve of his cock hits that spot that makes you shake, bolts of pleasure striking through your entire body.

the room fills with your little whines, pretty broken moans of his name. heat emitting from your body and mixing with his as he moves to grab at your boobs. the tips of his fingers tweaking and pulling your nipples, “aahhh, cho—so fuck”

your legs hang over his shoulder, sweat slipping and sliding down his temples, “tell me you’re mine” reaching up you struggle to hold on to the girth of his biceps, “yours! ‘m all yours!”

you’re so close. so sensitive, your pussy clenching and pulsing around him in tune with every heavy snap of his waist. “go ahead, baby. give it to me”

it’s feels like you’re on fire. every inch of your body so overwhelmed it’s almost painful. your skin flushes and a warm sensation washes over your entire body as you squeeze around him, “theeeree you go, baby, mhhm, that’s it” shaking against his strong arms when your orgasm cracks like lightning and rips through you.

his cock throbs inside you, his strokes growing sloppy and heavy as he fucks you through your high. overstimulating your pussy. he pushes to drain his thick cum inside you. paint your warm walls with him, groaning out your name.

“holy— shit..” his breaths come out in heavy gasps, twitching you as he grows soft in the solitude of your silky walls.

he’s so warm. filling you all the way up with fat globs of cum. “mmmm, keep me in, baby” pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your parted lips. then another to the tip of your nose.

as soon as his ac gets fixed, he’s going to throw away that stupid toy. he’s got the real thing to fill up now.

© planetsage 2024 all rights reserved. no part of this may be reproduced in any form.

[bamsara]

Hello! I was wondering what company you use for your sticker sheets? I bough one from your Ko-Fi shop and really like the quality, and the pricing you were able to sell at is waaaaaay more reasonable compared to any of the companies I've seen and used myself. Is it a POD company, or a mass purchase of them to sell on your own?

Thank you for your time if you're able to respond!

I'm really glad you like the quality, because I actually make them by hand at home! (Please forgive the lighting, my bedroom is my office lmao.)

I don't use a company (and Idk what a POD company is sorry!) but making them at home gives a lot more freedom of stock, just be wary it can be very time consuming depending on how many you need to make.

I've had other people ask before, so here's a rundown of how I make my stickers at home: At most you'll need:

Printer

Sticker paper (this is the type that I use)

Laminator and lamination paper (the lamination paper that I use.) You can also use adhesive non-heat lamination paper if you don't have a laminator, gives you the same result, just be careful of bubbles. You will get double your worth out of a pack because we are splitting the pouches to cover two sticker sheets.

Your choice of a sticker cutting machine or just using scissors.

First, I use Cricut's software to print out the sticker sheet with the guidelines around the corners so the machine can read it. If you do NOT have a Cricut machine, open up your art program, make a canvas of 2550x3300 and fill it up with your sticker design with some cutting space between them. This the 8.5x11 size for the sticker page.

I usually have bleed selected so the cut comes out cleaner. Tip for non-Cricut users below: Increase the border around your sticker design to fake the 'bleed' effect for a cleaner cut.

These are the print settings I use for my printer. I use the 'use system dialogue' to make sure I can adjust the settings otherwise it prints out low quality by default. Make sure if you're using the above paper that you have 'matte' selected, and 'best quality' selected, these aren't usually selected by default.

So you have your sticker sheet printed! Next is the lamination part. I use a hot laminator that was gifted to me, but there is no-heat types of lamination you can peel and stick on yourself if that's not an option.

(This is for protection and makes the colors pop, but if you prefer your stickers matte, you can skip to the cutting process.)

Important for Cricut users or those planning to get a Cricut: You're going to cut the lamination page to cover the stickers while also not covering the guidelines in the corners. First, take your lamination page and lay it over the sheet, take marker/pen and mark were the edges of your stickers are, and cut off the excess:

(I save the scrap to use for smaller stickers or bonuses later on)

After you've cut out your lamination rectangle, separate the two layers and lay one down on your sticker sheet over your stickers with matte side down, shiny side up. (Save the other sheet for another sticker page)

The gloss of the lamination will prevent the machine from reading the guidelines, so be careful not to lay it over them. It also helps to cut the corners afterwards to prevent accidentally interfering with the guidelines.

Now put that bad boy in the laminator! (Or self seal if you are using non-heat adhesive lamination)

Congrats! You now have a laminated page full of stickers.

For non-cricut/folks cutting them out by hand: this is the part where you start going ham on the page with scisscors. Have fun~

Cutting machine: I put the page on a cutting mat and keep it aligned in the corner, and feed it into the machine. For laminated pages I go between 'cardstock' and 'poster board' so that it cuts all the way through without any issues, but for non-laminated pages or thinner pages, I stick for 'vinyl' and 'light card stock'. Kinda test around.

Now I smash that go button:

You have a sticker now!

The pros of making stickers at home is that you save some cost, and you have more control of your stock and how soon you can make new designs. (I can't really afford to factory produce my stickers anyway)

However, this can be a very time consuming, tedious process especially if you have to make a lot of them. There is also a LOT chance for some errors (misprints, miscuts, lamination bubbles, ect) that will leave you with B-grade or otherwise not-so-perfect or damaged stickers. (Little note, if you have page mess up in printing and can't be fed into the cricut machine, you can still laminate it and cut it out by hand too.)

I have to do a lot of sticker cutting by hand, so if you don't have a cricut don't stress too much about it. I have an entire drawer filled to the top of miscuts/misprints. I keep them because I don't want to be wasteful, so maybe one day they'll find another home. Sucks for my hand though.

But yeah! This is how I make my stickers at home! Hope this is helpful to anyone curious

[toxicanonymity]

THE LEAK

PAIR: billy loomis x f!reader WC: 2200 filthy words SUMMARY/NOTES: AU where billy lives and is acquitted of the murders. he's your sleazy landlord, and he's obsessed with you. big ty to @clawdee for a thot that did a lot. love this moodboard by @aurorawritestoescape for the vibes. WARNINGS may not have full detail. 18+ adult content. stalking and other perv behavior, detailed fantasies of each other (in yours, he's forceful and can lift you), jerking off, dark use of cum, light degradation, (explicit) reference to billy x stu. sex toy, what the ask says, oh and idk, what if he sucked it?

You haven’t saved his number, but you’re starting to recognize it. His text says, you’ve got a leak. gotta come inside sry. Great, so this psycho is slinking around when you’re not there. And what’s worse: you won’t be back for days. He must have seen you packing your car. While you’re trying to remember if you put all your toys away at home, another whoosh from your phone startles you. He’s sent an image. Not of the leak, no… This image makes you hot with the primitive urge to be bred. 

The pic is from Billy’s point of view, looking down. It shows the bottom half of his sweat-stained white tank, a peek at his happy trail, and, god help you--a massive bulge in his light-wash jeans. His big, tan fist is holding a wrench. And finally, framed by his poorly-tied work boots, his toolbox sits on your kitchen floor. It’s definitely not the focal point. 

You quickly close the picture, but less than a minute later, it’s open again, and you’re zooming in. Your primate brain is saying sit on it sit on it sit on it sit on it sit on it sit on it, and a heartbeat throbs between your legs. Ugggghhhghghgh. Does he have to look like that? Does he have to be so big?  Does he have to hold a wrench? Does his belt have to be tilting like something might escape from his jeans? A stiff, veiny vision springs into your mind, and you try to push it away. Your panties are already at slip-and-slide status. 

Meanwhile, Billy is making himself at home at your (his) place. He takes his time stalking around your space with the eyes of a predator. It feels like it used to when he wore the mask. There’s something about you that stirs his darkness awake. He’d never stab you, although he doesn’t mind the vision of a knife at your throat. 

He walks past your dresser, bypassing your underwear drawer. He’s more interested in the dirty laundry. He pokes through your unwashed clothes and finds something to his liking: a red thong with a white-streaked gusset. He shoves it in his back pocket, but not all the way. The glimpse of red fabric is a nice touch, like a pocket square for his ass. Too bad you’re not there to see it when he squats to look under your bed. Maybe one day you’ll get smart and buy a security camera–one that you control.

-

Oh, and you didn’t put the toys away, you little vixen. At least not the big dong anchored to the edge of your bathtub by a suction cup, standing proudly with a slight curve.  He can't help but smile as he bends over and braces one hand on the tub. He wraps his hand around the shaft and pulls. Strong suction cup.

/// He imagines you straddling the side of the tub and sinking onto the dick. A little “uh!” when it bottoms out. You gently rock on it, then fuck yourself thinking of him, unaware that his is thicker. ///

He palms the growing lump in his pants, then unbuckles his belt. He sighs through his nose and gently grabs his crotch, relieved to have more room for growth. 

He squats down, panties hanging out of his back pocket. He sniffs the dildo–smells like silicone. Lame. But he opens his nostrils and inhales deeper as he runs his nose down the shaft and could swear he gets a little whiff of you. He kitten-licks it with curiosity and detects the slightest hint of something tart. Then he licks up the shaft and gives the tip an open-mouth kiss. Billy’s never approached a cock this way before.

/// Normally it’s his meat between someone else’s lips. Always in control. It’s not every day he has a dick in his face, but if he does, it’s usually in sixty-nine. And he’s probably jerking it with his hand, choking it like it might kill him first, letting it slap his open lips with each stroke before catching it in his mouth and straight gobbling it, greedily consuming it, commanding it with his tongue, dead set on flooding his mouth before he shoots his own load down Stu’s throat. ///

He lets one knee down onto the discolored vinyl floor, then takes the head fully in his mouth, hand wrapped around the base. As he lowers his head on the shaft, it becomes apparent this is not just a dong. It’s not going to curve down his throat. It has a rigid core. He inspects the dick and finds buttons near the silicone balls, but when he presses them, nothing happens. It’s dead. Maybe he’ll charge it for you while you’re gone. He’s a nice guy like that. 

He returns his mouth to the tip and takes just a few inches. In a few days, you’ll be riding a toy that has traces of his saliva all over it. He sucks hard, harder, then tastes something. It's heady and chemical. He lets most of the shaft out and sucks just the head. He tastes it again. He takes his mouth off the dildo and there’s a little drop of cloudy liquid beading at the dickhole he hadn’t noticed. Holy shit. 

He looks around the tub, picking things up, putting them down–how many bottles of shampoo do you need? Some of these feel almost empty, begging to be re-homed to his bathroom. He gets up and searches your cluttered counter, rummaging around, looking for the juice. He checks himself out in the mirror, and his little smirk widens. He looks hot: Biceps swole from working out. Cock straining his unbuttoned jeans.

He snaps a pic before resuming his search. When he looks under the sink, jackpot. A bottle of synthetic “kum.” He unscrews the lid and you sure have used a lot of it. He sees the bottle half-full, ha ha. Until he pours out just little. He'll replace it.

Billy's phone dings with a text from you. Thought this day might never come. Your text reads, all good? Hah. Of course there’s no real leak, aside from his cockhead. 

You’re stopped at a gas station. At the moment, you care more about what's in his pants than your complete loss of privacy, so you’re playing along. The urge to text him had been too strong, and now your heart is racing, awaiting his response. When he hasn’t replied in five minutes, you feel like an idiot. . And then you’re just mad. Of course he hasn’t responded. He must be feeling so smug right now. You get back in your car. If you weren’t two hours away, you’d speed home to confront him. 

/// As that plays out in your mind, it devolves into a filthy fantasy. When you bust in the door demanding to see the alleged leak, he gets a wild look in his eyes. I'll show you the leak. He charges at you and you don't move. He manhandles you up against the wall, pinning you there while he smells your hair. Oh, he’s strong, really strong, and he’s rock hard pressing himself up against you. You’re dyin’ for this cock, he growls in your ear. Oh, how you wish he was wrong. He’s there to lay pipe, and you want it. ///

Back in real life, you’re staring into space until a van driver's stare snaps you out of it. You find your hand between your legs, heel of your palm pressed against your throbbing front….still parked right there at the gas pump. The man quickly looks away, and your face catches fire. You can’t drive like this. Soaking wet, you get out of your car again. You know the gas station chain has clean bathrooms. Clean enough. 

You lock the bathroom door behind you and are confronted with your face in the mirror--wrecked with horny desperation. You wash your hands with that pink scented soap, dry them, then unbutton your shorts. Leaning with your back against the wall, you plunge your hand into your shorts. What a mess-no panties, soaked through. You rub your puffy cunt, then gather some slick and slide it up to your sweet spot for a quickie. 

Closing your eyes, you pick up the scene right where you left off, this time grinding your bare, dripping pussy against your hand. 

/// You imagine he’s got you up against the wall. He cups your crotch over your obscenely short daisy dukes, then easily slips his middle finger under the inseam for a dip. Found the leak, he taunts as his thick finger pushes into your needy hole. Already got your panites off for me? He tilts his head, making a strand of hair fall in his face. You're dyin' for it.

Don’t - fucking - move, he warns with a glare, then takes his arm off your chest to unbutton his pants, freeing his cock in a hurry. Once his bare cock is grazing your midsection, both his hands end up between your legs. He rips the pathetic, dripping inseam of your “shorts.”  Then he forcefully grabs both your thighs and lifts you against the wall.

And just as he’s shoving his stiff cock into you, just when his girth is stuffing you full, the tension snaps in real life. ///

You shudder and your thighs quake and your mouth opens wide with a nearly silent moan. Slowly rutting against your hand with each bursts of pleasure, you hear yourself whisper, billy as your hips slow to a stop. 

He knows you want it bad. Of course you want it. He’s him–He was pre-trial detention for a week before he started getting fan mail. Now he’s far from Woodsboro, out of Cali, out in the sticks of a town that’s not even on the map. He’s a nobody with a trailer park. He likes it that way, and he’s still got it. You’re playing hard to get, and that really gets him hard.

Getting a text from you at all feels like a runway traffic controller is waving him in for the kill...so to speak. He doesn't reply right away, but it's not because he's playing it cool. He's just mulling how far to go with his reply. He tucks his erection into his waistband and takes another POV shot with his legs framed by open doors of your under-sink cabinet. The smushed head of his cock barely visible against his abdomen.

Too far? Maybe. He’ll save that one for later. Right now he has something to take care of anyway.

. . .

Ten minutes later, he’s reclining on your bed, edging himself with the kum as lube, open bottle on the nightstand. He doesn’t use your panties, or the pics he’s secretly taken, or the audio he’s recorded from outside the thin walls of your trailer. He doesn’t need anything but his mind, and the fact that when you get off in private, you stuff yourself with imaginary cum. You’re that much of a cumslut. He’s never been so stiff and swollen. 

/// It’s so clear in his mind. You ride that cock with one hand braced on the tub, one on your breast. Your eyes are closed and you're moaning. You mutter billy under your breath, fuck, billy, gushing at the thought of him fucking you raw. Your thighs tremble, desperate for his load. Fill me up, billy. When you’re just about to press that button on the dildo, in real life he sits up and grabs the bottle of kum. He brings the open bottle to the tip of his cock.

Then, you press the button and moan please, please. As you begin to fill yourself with his cum, panting yes, more— his whole body shakes. He moans out loud in your room. His thick ropes join the fake cum as he thinks of you blasting more than one load up your cunt. He just knows you don’t stop at one. You don’t stop until you’re spent, and a big mess of his jizz is leaking out of your used, over-stuffed cunt.  ///

He loses count of how many ropes he shoots into that bottle. The last of his load dribbles out. He sets the bottle down on the nightstand, take off his sweaty shirt, and collapses on his back, just breathing for a minute, looking at your ceiling.

-

When he’s recovered enough, he tucks his cock back into his boxer briefs, sits up, and looks in the bottle. His cum is visibly different from the synthetic stuff. He screws the lid closed, holds the bottle near his unzipped jeans, and shakes it in a jack-off motion. He opens the bottle again. “Yeahhh,” he says to the mixture. He’s gonna have to do that again. While you're out of town, he'll be adding a lot more to that bottle. 

His phone lights up on the nightstand, reminding him of your text.  He slings his dirty shirt over his shoulder on his way back to your bathroom. He puts the bottle back where it was.

Then he takes a mirror selfie, disheveled and flushed, with a visible farmer’s tan. His bare skin glistens, and his belt is left unbuckled. 

He sends you the pic and a text: yea just finished

---------

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masterlist

fic notifications: I rb on @toxicfics after at least one person has enjoyed the fic bc it calms my nerves lol

Thank you for reading and tysm for interacting with my stories!! I've been going through it recently, as you may can tell from my lack of fics. Your enjoyment and encouragement makes a difference on a personal level, not just as a writer - I'm grateful for you all ♥️

[021894s]

DEVIL’S TEMPTATION - p.sh

SUMMARY: At your colleges annual halloween party, playful teasing and shared glances lead you and sunghoon away from the crowd, turning a night of costumes and games into one of passion and desire.

PAIRING: fwb!sunghoon x f!reder

WARNINGS: language, vampire sunghoon (need), oral sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk

WC: 3k

You and Ningning are in your dorm room, clothes strewn everywhere, mirrors covered in smudges of makeup and remnants of past party prep. Ningning is busy applying her eyeliner in the small, circular mirror on your dresser, occasionally glancing over at you with a mischievous grin.

“Seriously, you’re going to kill him tonight,” she says, adjusting her angel halo as she takes in your devil costume. “He’s not even going to know what hit him.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. “It’s just a costume. And who says I��m dressing up for him?”

She laughs, not buying it for a second. “Oh, come on. I know you two only see each other ‘casually,’ but Sunghoon’s been glued to you ever since this little arrangement started.” She finishes her eyeliner with a flourish, then looks back at you. “Honestly, are you going to ignore him all night or have a little fun with him?”

You raise an eyebrow, smirking at your reflection as you adjust your devil horns. “Maybe both. We’ll see who breaks first.”

“Spoken like a true mastermind,” she says, giving you a proud nod. “Just make sure you save some time for me tonight, alright? I refuse to be ditched halfway through again.”

Laughing, you grab your purse and give her a playful shove. “Deal. Now come on, let’s get to that party and see if these costumes are worth all the trouble.”

The two of you head out, and the energy of the party is electric by the time you step into the packed living room. The music thumps through the walls, people already dancing, laughing, and mingling, each person’s costume somehow wilder than the last. But even through the crowd, your eyes find him — Sunghoon, leaning casually against the wall, his lips curled in that lazy smirk you know so well. He’s dressed as a vampire, black leather jacket hugging his shoulders, his prominent canines serving as fangs, gleaming when he finally spots you.

Ningning gives you a nudge. “Good luck, devil,” she teases before disappearing into the crowd.

You know that look, the way his gaze sweeps over you with the hint of a challenge. Smirking, you take your time sauntering over, putting a little extra sway in your step. His eyes roam from the devil horns down to the lace and leather of your outfit, and his smirk widens, intrigued. “Well, well,” he murmurs when you’re close enough to hear, his tone almost a purr. “Didn’t know the devil would look this good tonight.”

You roll your eyes, pretending not to feel the heat of his attention. “Guess that makes me your worst nightmare, huh?” you say, arching a brow as you match his playful tone. 

He laughs, reaching out to gently tug one of your devil horns. “Oh, trust me. I think I can handle a little hellfire.” His fingers linger on the headband for just a second longer than necessary, and you feel a shiver of anticipation race through you. It’s always like this with him — a constant tease, a familiar game where neither of you ever really wins or loses.

“Big words,” you quip, tilting your head. “But I’m not sure a vampire’s bite would faze me.”

He leans in, his voice dropping low enough to send a thrill down your spine. “Is that a challenge?” 

You raise an eyebrow, biting back a grin. “Only if you think you’re up for it.” 

Sunghoon’s grin widens, and he steps even closer, the space between you almost nonexistent now. “You know I always am.” 

The party rages on around you, but in that moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you, caught in a dangerous, thrilling game you can’t resist.

Sunghoon doesn’t miss a beat. As you exchange that familiar banter, he glances toward the kitchen, tipping his head toward the bar setup. “Want a drink?” 

You shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Depends. You offering to play bartender tonight?”

He chuckles, low and smooth. “Only for you.” He gently takes your hand, guiding you through the crowded room to the makeshift bar. He lets go, but you’re still keenly aware of his presence as he pours you a drink, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. 

He hands you the cup, fingers brushing yours, lingering just long enough to send a spark of excitement through you. You raise it to him in a mock toast, “To the devil and the vampire,” you say with a grin.

He raises his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. “To the deadliest duo in the room.”

You sip your drink, savoring the cool burn, and watch as he leans against the counter, his gaze lazy but focused, like he’s savoring every inch of your costume. It feels like a dare every time he looks at you — as if he knows exactly what he’s doing and exactly how it affects you.

“So…” he drawls, tilting his head as his eyes flicker to your horns, then back to your face. “What kind of trouble does the devil plan on getting into tonight?”

You laugh, shrugging. “Depends on who I’m with, I guess.”

He steps in closer, lowering his voice, his lips just barely brushing your ear. “If you’re with me, I can promise you all the trouble you want.”

A shiver runs down your spine, and you’re not sure if it’s from his words or the feeling of his breath on your skin. He pulls back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours, dark and intense. “You look incredible,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost intimate. “I’ve been trying not to stare, but shit… you make it impossible.”

You swallow, barely able to find your voice as he leans in again, this time his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “I want you so bad right now.” 

And just like that, you’re melting, caught in the electric pull that seems to only exist between the two of you. The party fades into the background, the only thoughts in your head being of him and the growing wetness in your panties.

You can’t help the way your pulse quickens at his words, the room feeling suddenly smaller, the music dulling to a hum around you. Sunghoon’s fingers trail down your arm, lingering at your wrist before he takes your hand, his touch gentle but firm, as if daring you to stop him.

“Come with me,” he murmurs, his gaze intense, a spark of challenge flickering in his eyes.

You barely manage a nod, and he leads you away from the crowded living room, weaving through a throng of costumed students until you’re both tucked away in a quieter corner down the hall. It’s dark here, the shadows dancing across his face as he leans back against the wall, pulling you close, his hands finding their way to your waist.

“Just wanted some time alone with you,�� he says, voice low, his fingers tracing little circles against your hips. He pulls you in even closer, his gaze locked onto yours, and you can feel the heat radiating off him, a promise in his touch.

You let out a soft laugh, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t know vampires liked getting alone time with devils.”

“Vampires can’t help themselves,” he murmurs, his lips curving into a smirk. “Especially when the devil looks this tempting.”

His fingers trace along the edge of your costume, barely grazing your skin, and it’s enough to send a thrill through you. Your hands settle on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath the leather of his jacket, and he tilts his head down, his face mere inches from yours.

“You do this to me every time,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, his gaze intense. “Showing up like this… teasing me… you know exactly what you’re doing.”

You look up at him, biting your lip, feigning innocence. “Is that so?”

A low chuckle escapes him as he leans in, his lips ghosting over yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Don’t play innocent with me,” he says, his tone dark and teasing. “We both know exactly where this is going.” 

You barely manage a reply before his lips finally meet yours, the kiss slow and intense, his hands tightening around your waist. The world around you blurs, his touch grounding you in the moment, the heat between you sparking to life.

Sunghoon locates an empty room, its door slightly ajar, offering a tempting sanctuary from the party. With a swift movement, he pushes the door open, pulling you inside, the dimly lit room providing a stark contrast to the vibrant party atmosphere. Sunghoon kickes the door shut behind him the sound echoing through the quiet space. In the dim light,  your devil costume seemed to turn him on even more, eyes sparkling with mischievous intent.

"Shit baby, you have any idea what you’re doing to me right now?" Sunghoon asked, his voice low and husky. You smile, red lips curving devilishly. "Oh, I think I might have some idea,” you turn around, offering him a tantalizing view of your perfect, round ass, barely covered by the skimpy latex bottom.

Sunghoon's breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight before him. He couldn't resist any longer. With a heavy sigh, he grabs your hips, pulling you back against his hardening length. "You’re such a fucking tease," he spoke, lifting the devil's tail attached to your costume, exposing the curve of her bare cheeks. He smacks your ass lightly, the sound echoing in the room, causing you to let out a surprised gasp. "Oh, you like that, huh? I can give you more."

"Yes, please," you moaned, pushing your ass back against him, inviting more contact. "need you so bad hoonie.”

Sunghoon's hands travel up your sides, his fingers tracing the outline of your latex-clad body, his touch sending shivers of pleasure through you. He reached around, unhooking the the top corset piece of your costume, his skilled fingers quickly freeing your perky tits from their confinement. Your nipples were already hard and erect, the cool air causing them to pebble even more.

"You're so beautiful, baby," Sunghoon whispered, his breath hot against your ear as he nuzzled her neck, his canines lightly grazing the sensitive skin. "gonna make you feel so good.” you arch your back, pushing yourself further into his hands, eyes closing in ecstasy as he began to knead and squeeze your sensitive flesh. 

Sunghoon's vampire costume added to the erotic atmosphere, his dark desire contrasting your fiery passion. He pushed you forward, guiding you to the bed in the corner of the room, his hands never leaving you body. As you lay down, Sunghoon stands over you, his erection straining against his pants."need to taste you, Y/N," he says, his voice thick with need. "fuck I needed you the moment you walked in, in this sexy ass costume.”

your eyes flutter open, pupils dilated with desire. "Please, hoon, need your mouth so bad." With a hungry growl, Sunghoon lowers himself between  your spread legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he gazes at your exposed pussy, already glistening with your arousal, the lips swollen and parted, inviting him in. He leaned down, his tongue flicking out to get a taste, his fangs grazing your sensitive inner thighs. 

"Oh, fuck, Sunghoon," you cry out,  hands gripping the sheets as he licked and sucked at your clit, his fangs nipping gently at the tender flesh. "Feels so good, Don't stop, please."

Sunghoon's tongue delved deeper, his lips wrapping around your sensitive bundle of nerves, sending her over the edge. your body trembled as waves of pleasure coursed through you, whiny moans filling the room. He lapped at your juices, his canines now fully exposed, leaving tiny marks on your inner thighs. 

"I want you inside me, Sunghoon," you panted, your body still quivering from your intense orgasm. "need to feel you now." Sunghoon rose, his eyes dark with desire, and quickly shed his vampire costume, revealing his muscular body and throbbing erection. He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between your parted thighs, his cock hovering at your entrance.

"you want me baby? beg for me" he teased, his voice hoarse with need.

"I want it, Sunghoon," you pleaded, your hands reaching down to guide him into your waiting heat. "want to feel your cock deep inside me."

Without hesitation, Sunghoon thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth motion, eliciting a cry of pleasure from you as your bodies finally connected. He began to move, his hips snapping forward, driving into you again and again, skin slapping together in a primal rhythm.

"Oh, fuck Sunghoon, yes!" you cried out, nails digging into his back as you arched your body to meet his thrusts. "so big hoonie, feels so good"

“You’re so tight baby fuck. pussy suck me in so good, like you were made for me.” his movements become more urgent, his cock pounding into you, your bodies slick with sweat and desire. Sunghoon felt his own orgasm building, his balls tightening with impending release “so close baby cmon, milk my cock.” Your pussy clenched around him, your inner walls pulsing and milking his cock as you climaxed again, body shaking uncontrollably.

"Cum for me, baby," you begged, your voice hoarse and raw. With a guttural roar, Sunghoon let go, his body shuddering as he emptied his hot seed deep within you, your combined essence mingling in a passionate climax. 

you both lay entwined, hearts racing, as the echoes of pleasure reverberated through the room. Once yours breaths seemed to settle down into a slower rhythm, sunghoon is the first to speak. “You should dress up more often.” 

You turn your head to look at him, a chuckle leaving your lips, “is that what you fantasize about?” his fingers draw invisible shapes on the expanse of your tummy, “I mean, did you see yourself? how could I not fantasize about you all dressed for me.” 

you let out another laugh, changing your position so you’re straddling him, his hands immediately moving to your waist as he stares i’ll at you with hazy eyes, “who said I dressed up for you?” An amused expression appears on his face, “oh please, we both know you came here planning to get fucked.” 

You lean into him, your lips brushing against his ear, “maybe I did… what are you gonna do about it?”

He doesn’t respond, instead he switches the position again, hovering over you, “then I’m gonna make sure to fuck you as many times as I want.” 

taglist: @awqken @hollyoongs @enhastolemyheart @wonnienyang @skzenhalove @slvrnm @lovesangyeon @velvetkisscs @soobieboo @jakeflvrz @woorcve @moonpri @blockbusterhee @yjwsgf @doublebunv @moon4moony @woniebae @moon368 @jakeswifewithtwokids @love4hee @ikeryn @indigoez @ramenoil @iilwji @riribell @ilabjungwon @tunafishyfishylike @leov3rse @onlyhyunjin @nyxtwixx @mnxnii @whateverhoon @jayrelics @laurradoesloveu @heeswif3y @enhalxvr @yunhoswrldddd @nikiswifiee @aiiselle90210 @lixiebokie @lelsforlino @eneiyri @punchbug9-blog @babystrlla @hee-yunie @hoonics @notevenheretbh1

[charmillington]

5 Tips for Efficient and Organized Backpacking with Packing Cubes

5 Tips for Efficient and Organized Backpacking with Packing Cubes

Traveling with a backpack and ultra lightweight packing cubes can be a great way to minimize luggage and stay organized on your trip. Here are some tips for packing efficiently and effectively: Make a packing list: Before you start packing, make a list of all the items you need to bring. This will help you stay organized and avoid packing unnecessary items. Use packing cubes: Packing cubes are…

[luveline]

hey love! first of all: i have to admit i started watching criminal minds for the first time earlier this year only bc of your spencer fics! can we get more stripper!reader and spencer? love your writing!!!

thank you!! It’s a slow routine. You begin in a crouch in your underwear, just like at the club. Chest to your knees, arms twisted with the backs of your hands touching. But, unlike at the club, this underwear is comfortable. There’s nobody watching, and you won’t make any tips. You don’t have a pole nor a stage. 

You run through the routine but forgo any pole tricks. You stretch for long, slow minutes, dancing from one space to another. The music in your head isn’t anything you’d play at home, but it works to keep time. You end on your knees again. 

It’s not fun. 

You stretch toward your phone and pick it up. Spencer’s texted you twice in the ten minutes you weren’t on it. 

Hi gorgeous, the first begins, do you want to sleep over? I can make you dinner. 

The second, Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever called you gorgeous before, is that weird? Please come over and pretend I didn’t say that if it was weird

A third pops up while you’re reading. Can I come get you? 

You text him back with pleasure. He’s the only guy in your life who talks to you just to talk, without thinking he could fuck you if he says enough right things, even though he has fucked you. Hi babe you can call me anything it’s not weird, I’ll come over! Not working this week, maybe I can stay two days(?) let me know so I can pack enough clothes 

You can stay all week, if you want to. I miss you 

You imagine him holding his phone, his cheeks pink with blush. 

I miss you too, you text back. 

Just bring what you want to and we can work it out later

Working it out later could mean anything with Spencer. He’s silly enough to try and put you in his clothes, and generous enough to take you shopping if it saves the time it takes to drive you home. 

You’ve packed a bag of clothes and shower things when your phone rings. Spencer’s contact photo covers the whole screen, the two of you together with your face cut out, his smile wide. You were both a teeny bit tipsy. 

“Hello?” you answer, bringing the phone to your ear. 

“Hi!” He sounds nervous. “I’m outside. Am I gonna get towed?” 

“Not if you stay in the car. I’m on my way down right now.” 

“Okay, see you in a second,” he says. 

He never looks comfortable behind a steering wheel. You aren’t sure why he doesn’t sell his car, maybe because it’s dirt cheap to maintain. He never seems happy to be driving is all. 

He smiles when you approach his door, which is better. He rolls down the window. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. You bend at the knees to see him better. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I had a weird feeling about you, like you weren’t alright.” 

You lean down further. “I’m okay.” 

He grins. You’re waiting for a kiss he doesn’t give, finding yourself a subject for his staring, completely still as his gaze follows around your face. He makes no move to kiss you, and for a moment insecurity blossoms. 

“Well, you look okay. Are you getting in? It’s cold,” he says, nodding toward the passenger side.

“No help with my bags?” you ask, closing the door when he tries to open it. “Kidding.” 

You round the hood and climb inside. Then Spencer kisses you, polite but emphatic, one on your lips and another just under your jaw as he squeezes your shoulder. You feed into them lovingly.

“Maybe you can stay at my place forever? That way I can stop missing you all the time,” he says, pulling away slowly. 

“And when the mystery is gone?” you ask. 

“I don’t want mystery with you.” 

Spencer takes your bag from your lap and shoves it into the back seat. You drop the smaller one on your shoes. 

“Do you wanna get pizza or something?” he asks. 

You hold your jaw where he’d kissed you. “Sure,” you say, tingles of his kiss lingering under your hand. 

“Or Chinese? What do you want?” 

You want more kisses, but you love that he always gives you options. “Pizza for sure. Curly fries, too. Hold my hand?” 

Spencer takes it with gusto over the gearstick, and whatever felt like it was missing earlier fills itself in. “Wait,” you say softly, before he can take the car out of park, “just…” You grab his side and drag him toward you for a hug. Holding hands wasn’t gonna be enough —Spencer doesn’t know it yet, but you love him, love how safe he makes you feel, love how fun he makes your life. You can be yourself with him, no matter who that really is.

Spencer holds you, his hand across your shoulder blade rubbing soft lines. 

[azzibuckets]

Paper Rings [Part 7/10 | Paige Bueckers]

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: you might be falling for paige again. or not?

word count: 1.5k

masterlist w/ previous parts

PRESENT DAY

True to her word, Paige stayed away from you the entire night, boxing herself into a small group of freshmen that you’d never met. You were glad she wasn’t bothering you, but there was a small part of you that craved her attention, and missed the way she used to be all over you in settings like this.

“So,” Nika grinned. “How’s life been?”

You tipped your glass of Coke to your mouth, enjoying the sensation of the cool liquid running down your throat and awakening you with the bubbly sugar. “Alright. I’ve missed you guys. I’m sorry I haven’t really reached out.”

Nika patted your leg. “Don’t even worry about it. You know you can always come hang.” She looked around before whispering under her breath, “I know Paige is killing herself right now trying not to talk to you.” She nodded to the corner of the room, and you looked to see Paige sitting gloomily, all hangdog and staring at her hands. You both laughed, and Paige’s eyes snapped up, meeting your gaze from across the room.

You held eye contact with her for a beat longer than you should’ve, and a small smile crept onto her lips. You forced yourself to avert your eyes back down to your coke, taking another swig to strengthen your resolve. You didn’t come to Nika’s for Paige, you reminded yourself.

The gathering slowly started to die down. One by one, the coaches and other student volunteers that worked for the team left, until it was just the players and you. That was when Aaliyah called for everyone’s attention. “Girls,” she announced. “Guess what I got.” With a conniving glint in her eyes, she pulled out a white keycard from her pocket, and everyone started going feral.

You nudged Nika. “Am I missing something?”

Nika flounced up and grabbed the key card from Aaliyah. “This,” she said, shoving it in your face. “Is the key to the pool deck. Aaliyah’s been talking to a guy who keeps bragging about he stole it from a janitor and now has 24/7 access to the pool, and she finally got it.”

Everyone hollered in celebration, and started to eagerly move like a pack to the door. “Whoa whoa whoa,” Paige said. “Where are we going?”

“Come on, P, it’s time for a night swim!” Nika cheered, grabbing Paige by the shoulders and moving her towards the door too.

You’re gonna end up having seizures trying to keep up with the pace of this team, you thought to yourself. You rushed after the group of girls, praying that you wouldn’t have to save anyone tonight.

———————-

You don’t know how a loud and rowdy group of fifteen girls managed to make their way across campus and sneak into the pool deck without getting caught, but before you knew it, everyone was stripping their clothes on the deck into their bras and underwater. You joined them with no qualms. The water was your safe place, and it would be refreshing after the day that you’d had.

Wrapping your hair up into a bun, you were about to dive into the enticing blue of the water when you saw Paige hanging in the back, away from the other girls with all her clothes still on. Your stomach dropped - you had totally forgotten about Paige’s fear of swimming, and you felt like a terrible person.

Reaching to undo your bun, you made your way past the girls. Paige was now sitting down, leg jumping nervously.

“Hey.” You hesitated for a second before gently sitting down next to her. You made sure to leave enough space so that there was no way your elbows or legs or any of your body parts could touch. You weren’t sure what you’d do, if you would be able to control yourself, if your bare skin made contact with hers.

Paige slowly inhaled, leaning her head against the wall. “You can get in, Y/N. I think you might have to play lifeguard tonight.” She laughed at her own joke, but it was dry and artificial.

“I can play lifeguard from outside the pool. That way it’ll be more dramatic when I save them. You know, with the whole running and diving and all that.” Your tone was light-hearted, and you noticed Paige’s eyebrows quirk.

She wiped her hands against her sweatpants. “I should probably get in,” she muttered. “The girls are gonna wonder why I’m still sitting here.”

“You don’t have to,” you replied softly. Paige loved being confident. She hated being seen as anything but bold and fearless, so she was always embarrassed about her insecurities. It was an issue you had to work through with her, to get her to show you her vulnerable side because she had such a hard time opening up to anyone. But you had done it, and Paige had confided in you; and although it was easy for most other people, it took a lot for her to admit that she was deathly scared of drowning. She’d begged you not to tell anyone, and of course you’d sworn not to. You understood her fears, but you’d hated how she looked down on herself and refused to show any weaknesses.

Paige vehemently shook her head. “No, I want to.” Her tone was still uncertain, but you knew not to question her when she was set on doing something. “Let me, uh, change.”

You licked your lips. “Oh, yeah. Just, um, let me know when you’re done. I’ll get in with you.” You situated yourself at the edge of the pool, with your legs dangling in the water. Most of the other girls were already in, splashing around and doing handstands in the shallow end (thankfully).

Paige slowly waded into the pool through the stairs, and you hopped off the edge, plunging yourself into the water. You gave yourself a moment to submerge yourself completely underwater, loving the peaceful feeling when all the voices and noise disappeared, and all you could hear were the bubbles around you. Without bothering to come up for air, you swam to where Paige was and popped up right next to her.

Paige shrieked and toppled back, but you grabbed her hand before she could fall back. “You’re okay,” you murmured, instinctively bringing her closer to you. Droplets of water clung to her long eyelashes and made their way down the sharp edge of her jawline. Her hair was slicked back with water, dark now, and the muscles of her biceps glistened in the lighting. Paige’s hand glanced down your waist, and you were suddenly aware of your bodies pressed flush against each other.

“Ayo, Paige! Y/N! Stop making googly eyes at each other and come play chicken fight!”

Blushing, you hurriedly separated your bodies, pushed away from the blonde and swimming to the rest of the girls. They had all formed a messy circle, jostling around. “I wanna go against Paige,” Azzi challenged, poking the blonde’s shoulder.

You saw Paige give you a nervous look. Despite all the bitterness and resentment lingering between the two of you, you knew you couldn’t abandon her like this. “I’ll pair up with Paige,” you volunteered. Her shoulders relaxed and she sent you a grateful smile, and you could’ve kissed her right there.

As Azzi chose her partner, you whispered in Paige’s ear. “Don’t worry, okay? You’re not gonna drown. I’ll be here the whole time. Or, you know, on top of you,” you assured her. Paige’s eyes widened before she remembered that you were only talking about chicken fight. Get your mind out of the gutter, she chastised herself.

You got onto Paige’s shoulders, and her arms came up to grasp your legs firmly. One hand ran down your thighs and down your knee, and you gasped at the unexpected sensation, before Paige’s hand flew back up as if she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to touch you like that. Exhaling, you placed your hands on her head for stability, and you could feel her shiver.

Azzi, now atop Aaliyah’s shoulders, faced off with you. You took turns pushing each at each other, with the two girls wobbling beneath you, but Azzi was strong, and in the end she managed to catch you off guard and send you crashing into the water.

You felt two hands wrap around your hips and guide you up as you resurfaced. “You okay?” Paige breathed. She couldn’t help but lightly squeeze your hips, her thumb tracing circles across your skin.

You’d never wanted to kiss Paige more than then, when she was looking at you with so much concern and worry in your eyes. Her bottom lip was slightly jutted out, and you wanted to sink your teeth into it. All her hair was swept over one shoulder, her other shoulder exposed. It was tight with muscle and shining bare, and you wondered at what the skin there would taste like.

No, no, no. You could not be thinking of Paige like this. This was the same girl who had used you, who had ended your friendship after she’d slept with you, as if the only thing she’d cared about was taking your virginity like a notch on her bedpost.

You placed your hands over her hands that were still on your waist, gently removing them. “I think I need to go,” you mumbled. You needed to get out and create as much distance between you and Paige possible. She was breaking your inhibitions again, and you couldn’t, you wouldn’t allow yourself to fall to her traps again. Your heart throbbed as a shadow of disappointment fell across her face, but you turned around with finality to say goodbye to the other girls.

[thewritergx]

Truth or Dare Part 1: JJ MaybankxF!Reader

Part 2

Summary: The group decides to play a game of truth or dare, pushing JJ and y/n over the edge. Word Count: 4K

Warnings: Drug and alcohol use, mentions of sex, kissing. No smut in this part. Decided to make this two part because I kind of got carried away with the word count.

Word Count: 4K

Please feel free to like and repost. Click here if you’d like more stories from me

“God, it's hot”, sweat pooled around the bottom of my hair as I placed it in a tight bun. The AC went out days ago. With John still fending for himself, he couldn't exactly afford to get it fixed. I was just thankful he was letting me crash here. My mom was out on a bender, and told me to get the hell out. She did this periodically,  never even giving me time to pack or gather a few days of clothes. 

“Sorry, trying to save up to get it looked at in a few days.” John was in the kitchen, his head stuck in thawled out on the floor in front of us, rolling a blunt with a grape swisher. My favorite. JJ was sprawled out on the floor in front of us, rolling a blunt with a grape swisher. My favorite. I admired the way his fingers rolled it, the way his tongue lightly licked the paper to stick both sides together. He looked good even in the heat, his hair sweaty and skin sticky. JJ wore a loose gray cut-off shirt, his toned shoulders exposed. With every moment I could see the subtle veins in his muscles move and flex. His hat was backwards, like often, and he was sticking the tip of his tongue out a bit, focusing on his rolling. 

He looked up, locking eyes on me. “What, you feenin’ that bad?” JJ smiled. 

I laughed, embarrassed he caught me staring. I annoyingly started crushing on JJ this past summer.It had gotten stronger this past month as JJ started staying at the chateau more and more. After everything that happened with JJ's dad and my mom kicking me out of the house all the time, we understood each other pretty well. John B welcomed us at his house. He always mentioned how quiet it was without his dad here. Most nights, JJ and I slept on a blow-up mattress or the couch. There were nights JJtried to go home, give his dad a chance. Most of those nights he showed up at 3AM, lightly tapping on the window for me to let him in. John B had basically tuned his hose into a homeless shelter. 

Sometimes, I thought I would catch JJ eyes lingering on me as I sat across the room or when I was wearing something a bit revealing, but I could never really catch him. There was tension in the air some nights, but JJ never acted on it. I thought about mentioning my crush to him a few times but I knew he was loyal to the rules. No pogue on pogue macking being one of the few. It might have sounded stupid now, especially after Pope and Kie worked out so well together. There was no drama with them, no fights causing tension with the group. The rule just sounded dumb now. 

“I was watching the way you roll, can never get mine that tight,” I lied. Weed. A good distraction for JJ. 

“Here, let me show you,” JJ patted the ground next to him, moving a few things so I would have space to sit. I took a seat in a criss-cross-apple-sauce position, our shoulda lightly brushed and I tried to ignore how hot and smooth his skin felt against mine.

“Here take this one”, JJ handed me a swisher, the tobacco thrown on a plate in front of us. He grabbed my fingers gently, instructing me on how to rub up and down in a quick delicate motion. I felt my face get as he held my hands in his. “Oh, yeah. See, that looks great. Good job” JJ smiled, pressing his shoulder a bit more into mine. 

I laughed “Thank you, Professor Maybank. Outstanding lesson”. I handed the fresh blunt to JJ and he took out a baby blue lighter. 

“Hey, you lighter thief. That's mine.” I scolded him. “I've been looking for that.”

He laughed again. “Yeah well, wanted to carry you with me.” 

A gentle knock on the door followed as Pope and Kiara walked in, carrying a pack of beer and popsicles.

I sprung up. “Dear god, give me one of those.” I geeked excitedly. My mouth was so dry. 

Kiara laughed, handing me a red colored cherry popsicle. I undid the wrapper, and licked it slowly. 

I took my seat down to my JJ again. It was so hot the popsicle was melting on my hand already. I sucked off the juice, bringing my fingers to my mouth. JJ finally lit the perfect blunt, and took a short hit. He motioned to me and brought it to my mouth, the b, unt between two fingers. I attempted not to make eye contact as I breathed in, but I couldn't pull my eyes away from him. We stayed like this for a second before I blew the smoke gently towards him. Of course, I had to start coughing, my throat on fire. 

“Alright, just breathe.” JJ padded my back. I nodded my head and sucked in the hot air, trying to breathe the smoke feeling away. 

JJ grabbed the blunt, passing it over to Kie and Pope. Pope surprisingly hit it, something we didn't see him do often. He made a sore, sour face when he finished, immediately grabbing for water.

My lungs had finally stopped burning and I licked the popsicle a few times, the cold ice beating the dryness of my tongue. I let out a low slow moan at the chillness. Cherry was always my favorite. Bright, hot, red. I sucked a bit at the tip, juice filling my mouth. 

JJ, looked over. I could tell by his shifting and clenched jaw he was uncomfortable. Maybe the weed got him nervous or something. I grabbed his shoulder, the room slightly spinning. I was always light weight and JJ always had the strongest shit.

“J’ you okay?” I asked, taking a small bite off the top of the popsicle. 

JJ smirked a bit, his head tilted slightly to the side. “I’m doing just fine, y/n”, he spoke.

Sarah took a small hit, almost gagging. She was still getting used to our life, but she was open to trying as many new things as possible. I remember the first time she smoked. She stayed up all night counting the stars. She kept messing up and having to start over again. She handles it a lot better now.

We each passed it around a few more times, I stopped after three hits. It's all I could take before becoming a puddle on the carpet. It was getting dark out now and since it was our last weekend before school I knew the group would get a bit crazy.

“Come on, let's go take a dip in the hot tub,” Kiara exclaimed. She undid her shorts and t-shirt, leaving her in a light purple bikini. It complemented her skin tone beautifully.

“Bet, gotta change first.” In a corner of the living room, JJ's and I’s clothes were thrown in cheap dollar store bins. Most of my stuff was left at my mom’s house. All I really had here were the clothes I was wearing and things Kiara and Sarah let me steal. Mostly stuff they didn't wear or was gifted to them.

I dug around in the bin, looking for a swimsuit I was pretty sure Sarah threw in. Hopefully, it actually fits. I was a bit thicker than the two girls, so some things were a smidge too tight. 

I finally found the top and bottom pieces. It was a dark cheetah print pattern and honestly very sexy. But, it absolutely didn't match Sarah's clean girl aesthetic. I held it up to the room. “Okay, this is what I got.” JJ, let out a low whisper and I rolled my eyes. Maybe I'd just wear shorts and a crop top.

“Wow, I bought that for Sarah. Can't believe she won't wear it”, John B laughed as he stood in the doorway, his face a bit red.

“I have plenty of swimsuits, John. That was just the one I thought y/n would like the most. Fits her ‘bad girl’ look, don't yall think?” Sarah smiled, walking me to the bathroom so we could both change.

It was a small dim lit room with a slightly crusty mirror. One of my goals while staying here was to help John clean it up a bit. JJ was surprisingly a big help, always trying to assist with the small cores around the house. I washed the dishes, he dried them. I put clothes in the washing machine, and he folded them. It was sweet of him, especially since I never asked.

“You're going to look so good girl. Here, turn so I can tie the straps”. Sarah grabbed the two thin straps and tied them in a cute bow behind my neck, holding my tits at a great height. 

The bottoms fit me really well too. I was a bit surprised at how much I liked it. Usually I would dress more modestly. Most of my bikini covered my chest pretty well and I usually opted for something less cheeky. It was a bit tight around my hips, but the thong style made my ass look amazing. Sarah gave me a light tap on one of my ass cheeks. 

“Oh yeah y/n. You need to wear that to the next beach party, take a new man home with that thing.” I laughed and Sarah fixed my hair, pulling it down my back. 

“I don’t know. It’s kinda… a lot.” I laughed. 

“Oh come on, you need to embrace that body you got.” Sarah rushed me out of the bathroom before I got a chance to reply. Honestly I was thankful. Sometimes I needed a light push. 

By the time we walked out, everyone else was in the hot tub. I grabbed a few towels from the tub and the case of beer Pope brought. I was a bit nervous about what the guys would say to be honest. They always hit on us girls, but mostly they remained playful. I just didn't want them to get carried away. 

I met JJ’s eyes as we walked outside to the hot tub, a hot blush spread across my cheeks. I heard Pope mumble a “goddamn” and Kie slap him across his bare chest. 

“You look so good, y/n.” Kie yelled, her voice honest and pure. 

JJ remained quiet but he watched closely as I sat across from him. I felt tense but the hot water washed away any anxiety I was feeling. I silently handed JJ a bear as he sifted around slowly. His face back to that uncomfortable feeling. 

“Thanks,” he pretty much whispered inaudibly. He had ditched his shirt and hat, his upper body completely exposed. I tried not to focus on it too much and opted instead to close my eyes. I let the water engulf me, take my body to a place of pure relaxation. I let my eyes focus on the classic rock music JJ played in the background. He had good taste. 

“Okay, have an idea,” Pope spoke up. “Let's play Truth or Dare.” 

“That’s kinda cringe”, Kie laughed. 

“Oh, come on. I've never played.” Pope’s smile fainted a bit. Sometimes I forget how innocent he used to be. So much has changed this summer. 

“Yeah, sure Pope. That sounds fun to me.” I lied. To be honest, it did sound cringe. But Pope never brings stuff like this up and I could tell he was having a good time.

“Alright fine, I’ll play”. Kie low-key rolled her eyes but wore a fake smile.

“Okay, then I'll go first”, Pope said. “John, truth or dare?”

John B looked a bit spooked. “Pope, I don't trust how mischievous you look right now. I’m goin’ truth.”

“Okay, scaredy cat”, Sarah light-heartedly joked.

“Hmmm…I got it. What is the first thing you’ll do when you find the gold?” Pope asked.

“Oh, starting deep,” JJ mumbled. He was shifting around a bit. I could tell something was off.

“I don't know. I mean, I never even thought about it. Maybe just clean up this place. Build a house big enough to fit all the homeless friends I have.” John’s face was in wonder as he fantasized about the future. It was sweet. His first thought was all of us. Sarah let out a faint “awww”.

“Okay, guess I’ll pick someone…Sarah. Truth or Dare?” John B wore an obvious smirk.

“John, why?” Sarah shook her hair softly. “I guess dare but only cuz I'm not a chicken like you.” She joked again.

“Fine, I dare you to let me give you a hickey. Anywhere you like”, John’s smile was wide now.

“John, you know I hate those.” She frowned. Sarah was still breaking out of her shell. Never too loud or obvious about the sexual relationship her and John shared.  

“Dare is a dare,” John stated confidently. Sarah let out a deep sigh and moved closer to John B. 

“Fine, you can put one on my neck. A small one.” She huffed. She moved her hair to free the base of her neck. She laughed a bit but was still slightly angry as John B lightly sucked on her neck. To be honest it was a bit awkward. Especially because I was close enough to hear the little groans John B let out. 

I looked at JJ. He paid close attention to the two, a bit too much. His cheeks were a bit red, his jaw tight and lips closed. I think he noticed by gaze because he quickly made eye contact with me before dropping his eyes to the water. 

“Okay, okay. Get off me” Sarah chuckled. “That tickles”.

“This was a great idea, Pope.” John B wore the smile of a champion like he was seeing his family for the first time after a long battle. We all laughed a bit, except JJ who sat eerily quiet.

“Y/N truth or dare?” Sarah questioned excitedly. 

“Um, I guess I'll go with truth.” I answered. 

“Okay… Tell us about a crush you have. If you do have one.” It was a fairly innocent question but it held a lot of weight.

“Oh um.. Okay. Yeah, I do kinda have one. I guess. He’s really smart, more than people give him credit for. Funny, always smells really good. Also, super strong. He's got like a sleeper build where you can't tell how much muscles he has until he uses them”. I rambled, probably embarrassing myself.

“Aww, that's so nice. Any guy would be so lucky” Sarah responded. 

“Wait, oh my god. I know who you're talking about. That guy you work with? Is his name Chris?” Kie was genuinely excited. I didn't talk about boys often, mostly because the one I wanted was sitting right here with us. I didn't have the heart to tell her that 1. Chris is gay, and 2. He was nothing like what I just described.

“How’d you know”. I tried to play it cool, change the subject as soon as possible.

“Y/n, I hate to break it to you but that man does play on your field. If you know what I mean.” JJ finally spoke up. His face was in a slight frown and his eyebrows were tight. He looked mad but I could tell at what. 

“Okay mister, gaydar. Your turn” I spoke quickly. 

“Dare me,” He shot back just as fast. 

“Okay, you were quick with that. Let me think. How about…you race me in shotgunning one of these beers?” JJ loved competitions. I thought maybe another drink would loosen him up more. 

“Oh, sweetheart. You're going down, you know that right?” I ignored his pet name, trying not to linger on it for more than a moment. JJ finally had a smile and I was confident my theory had proved successful. I grabbed two beers out of the case. Might as well drink them since Pope went through the trouble of stealing from the gas station. JJ grabbed his pocket knife he kept on the edge of the hot tub, perfect for moments like this. He poked holes in the bottoms of each can. I grabbed one, holding it at a side angle. Then, I fetched into position, my finger hovering just over the tab. I swear he was staring me down, his eyes digging daggers into me. 

“Okay. Ready. Set. Go.” Kie counted down fast. 

I brought the can to my mouth immediately, pulling the tab and suckling at the whole. I tried my hardest to get as much down as I could. JJ clearly was in no playing mood. By the time I took three swallows he was already done. He crushed the can, throwing it over his shoulder behind the hot tub. 

“Told ya, can't beat me.” He had definitely perked back up. The group laughed and I finished my beer. It tasted like shit but I tried to play it cool. Beer had run down my chest, signing the crease between my breasts. JJ quickly looked them up and down and shifted a bit more angrily. I don't understand. He literally just won. 

“Kie, truth or dare?” JJ finally turned away from me, breaking his eye contact and looking towards Kie. 

“You know I'm always gonna pick dare.” Kie was wrapped under Pope’s arm. They looked comfy.

“I dare you and Pope to show us your favorite sex position.” JJ laughed. He knew they would hate this. Pope was still so shy when it came to sex and Kie was just a private person overall.

“That’s it?” Kie raised an eyebrow. “So easy”. Kie, stood for a moment, positioning Pope so that he was bent on his knees. Then he hovered her ass just above his pelvis. “Doggy, but kinda closer. That way we can still kiss and I don't feel so gross after”. Pope’s face was as blushed as I'd ever seen it. He grabbed Kie’s hips and brought them up and down slightly. 

“Okay, okay. Don't show them all of my girl’s moves.” Pope mumbled. 

“We should try that,” John motioned to Sarah. 

“Okay, Pope’s got the moves. I am satisfied. JJ smirked. 

“Hmm, who should I pick? I guess me and Pope technically just went. Y/N I'll choose you. Truth or dare.” She asked.

“Well, I just picked the truth. So I'll go with a dare”. I was honestly a bit nervous. Kie knew how to stir the pot. I think she was low-key picking up on the crush I developed. She sometimes shot looks at me if JJ and I were alone or a bit closer to each other than the rest of the group. 

“Ooh, good choice. I dare you to sit in JJ’s lap until I say to stop or until we get tired of playing.” Her face was serious. She did know, that just confirmed it. 

I thought about it for a moment and it didn't seem too crazy. I mean I sat next to him everyday and sometimes I had to sit in his lap if we took Pope’s truck. It wasn't completely new. I looked at JJ. Great. He looks pissed again. Was sitting that close to me so bad, I thought to myself.

I felt my own smile drop a bit.

“Okay, yeah. I guess”. I moved across the hot tub, fixing the string of my bikini that had moved just a bit too far up my ass cheeks. I turned my back to JJ and sat my legs between one of his. He let out a soft breath. He shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable as I set down. 

“You’re light”, he spoke plainly. No hint of any emotion in his voice. 

“John, truth or dare?” I smiled. Please pick dare. 

“Since my girlfriend made fun of me last time, I’ll pick a dare”. John had a fake sarcastic tone. 

Yes. “John, I dare you to give us the best rendition of a Broadway dance you possibly can.” I was relying not to laugh too much, imagining his awkward moves. 

John got out of the tub, standing in the dirt and grass next to us. I played the only broadway song I knew, something from Hamilton. The Whole group watched him, letting out high pitched yays and laughs. 

I tried to stay still as I watched John’s moves but the water made JJ’s thighs too slippery. His shorts gave a bit of resistance but not enough to keep me balanced. Each time I got comfortable I would slide down a bit, causing me to move around even more. 

“Quit moving,” He whispered. His voice was dark.

“Sorry, the water is slippery. It's kinda hard to stay balanced.” I tried not to make our struggle obvious to the group who had begun to watch John B try to do the perfect cartwheel. JJ let out another sigh. This time deeper with a bit more annoyance. He brought one arm across my waist, holding me up tightly into him. His forearms were toned, that sleeper build I mentioned earlier. 

“That better?” He asked. 

“Yeah, thanks.” I mumbled. His fingers lightly grazed my side, sending a tingling sensation throughout my entire body. I tried to shake it off, focus on anything else. He was warm against me, his chest pressed into my also bare back. The only thing between us was the thin straps holding up my top. 

As time went on, and John’s dance ended, I felt JJ become more and more stir-crazy. He bounced the leg I was straddling lightly. I tried my hardest not to grind on him, the soft tapping motion on my core was driving me crazy. His shorts rubbed against my thigh and exposed ass. The thong allowing me to feel every fiber under me. I wanted to run for the hills but I knew I wouldn't. He gripped me tighter like he thought I might actually really runway the second he let go. Then he started making slow up-and-down strokes against my side with his thumb. I swear he was teasing me, trying to see just how much of him I could take before I actually did anything.

The group praised John B. “An excellent performance”, I laughed. He breathed heavily as he got back into the water, taking his seat next to Sarah agin. 

“Alright y/n, I’m out for revenge now’. John smirked. “Pope, truth or dare?” John’s chest rose and fell softly, clearly still a bit tired. 

“Truth,” Pope responded. 

JOhn B asked Pope some question about losing his virginity. Pope went on a long rant and the group listened as he described a girl he met during summer break his sophomore year. 

JJ shifted a few times as he listened to the story. My blood ran hot as he moved his free hand and placed a tight grip on my thigh. “Sorry, felt like you were slipping still”. He mumbled into my neck, closer now than he was before. 

“It’s cool”, I played it off but my cheeks were bright red. I hoped the rest of the group didn't notice how obviously turned on I was by him. I let myself relax a but more into him, snuggling more against his chest. I tried to ignore the obvious poking sensation I felt at the base of my back. Clearly JJ was trying to stay as calm as possible too. 

Pope finally finished his story, Kie looking a bit surprised at the new learned information. That could be a problem later, I thought. “JJ, your turn. Truth or dare?” 

“Hit me with your worst, bro. Can’t scare me.” JJ’s voice was loud in my ear, “dare.”

“I was hoping you’d pick that. I felt JJ’s chest vibrate against me as he took a deep breath. “Clearly something is going on there”, Pope motioned to our closeness. “I dare you to kiss, y/n. Nothing too much, just whatever your feeling” 

Everyone in the group goes quiet. I feel a rush of cold wind hit my face. Why, why, why is all I could think. I wasn't even sure if JJ even really wanted to do this or if it was beer and weed making him so reactive to my touch. 

“Pope, really?” JJ’s face was angry, his voice hot as metal left out in the summer sun. 

“Well. you don't have to but that does make you the loser.” Pope smirked.

“I aint no pussy bro, and I definitely aint a loser.” I felt JJ turn me a little, pulling my face closer to his. I stayed quiet, a chill running through me as I met his eyes. JJ met my gaze for what seemed to be minutes. He finally broke away, looking down at my lips. He moved his hand from my thigh and placed it softly on my chin, bringing my lips at the perfect angle for him to finally place his. He leaned in softly, his lips soft and plump. It felt like heaven and i didnt want to stop. I could tell he didn't either/ The kiss grew a bit heavier. To be honest I forgot the whole group was staring at us. JJ let out a deep groan, moving his hand down my back, arching it a bit to add more force. 

I hear someone clear their throat, making me rip away suddenly. It was clear the energy has changed amongst us. JJ looked a bit spooked, like he could tell if what just happened was real or not. 

“I think that calls it. I'm going to bed”, John Spoke out. 

“Yeah, I should probably be heading home. Parents ya know,” Pope laughed. 

The group made their separate ways, leaving me and JJ hot and gasping for air. We sat obviously still, both of us too afraid to move. Too afraid to speak. 

[oo-delallymrcrow]

Makeup Trailer

A/N: I have a cooper howard smut ideaa, could you write something where the reader is his makeup artist on a new movie hes working. Theres an Automatic connection they really click and have some sweet sexual tension and after working together for a while during the movie the tension keeps growing growing and they get steamy in the makeup trailer. Oh oh also could i request this to be in 2nd person if possible ty ty love ur writing ride a cowboy was sooooo good!!!

I hope this was what you wanted! Sorry it took me awhile, it's hard to focus sometimes and between work and life I tried so hard to make this good 😅

18+ no minors

As you headed toward the makeup trailer, a modest space but packed with all the essentials to turn actors into their on-screen personal. As she stepped inside, she was greeted by the familiar scent of makeup and hairspray. The trailer was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos outside.

You arrived on the bustling movie set early, the morning sun barely cresting over the horizon. The set was already alive with activity, crew members scurrying around, cameras and lights being adjusted. This was a major production. Despite the pressure, you felt a surge of excitement. This was what you loved—transforming someone else, bringing a character to life.

You turned on the radio and let the soft melodies fill the air as you got to work, organizing and preparing to get ready. The door to the trailer opened and in walked Cooper Howard. He was an attractive and talented man; its what made you take the job as you always enjoyed watching his movies.

You smiled from behind the makeup chair, “good morning, Mr. Howard.”

"Morning, Y/N," he replied, flashing you a charming smile.

"Ready to become someone else?" You asked with amusement.

"Always," Cooper said, settling into the chair.

As you began your work, there was an immediate connection between you two, an almost electric chemistry. Talking about everything—movies, books, life experiences. The conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by moments of shared laughter.

The next few days turned into weeks and your bond only grew stronger. Yet with your bond there was a palpable tension. You were finding yourself thinking about Cooper more and more, distracted by his presence even when he wasn't around. You would sometimes pause, your fingers lingering just a bit longer on his skin, your gaze softening when your eyes met.

One particularly long day of shooting had left everyone exhausted. Cooper returned to the makeup trailer for some touch-ups, finding you waiting for him. The usual banter was absent, replaced by charged silence. You worked methodically, your hands gentle but deliberate.

During those moments it was so hard to not take action. Leaning in close to make sure no extra powder was on his face. You could smell the cinnamon gum he chewed on in-between takes. One time you were embarrassed when helping another makeup artist perfect her work. You leaned over to point out a few touch ups when you realized you had practically put your boobs in Cooper's face. You quickly stood up and walked around to help, realizing it was quite hot in the trailer. When you returned back to Cooper, you apologized for earlier.

"Not a problem, darlin," he replied in a low voice. You could see a glint of interest in his eyes but brushed it off as you thought it was unprofessional.

A day later when you were returning back to the trailer after lunch, an assistant was walking past with a cable. You didn't see it was unraveled before tripping on it. You weren't expecting an arm to snap out and pull you against a warm body. You looked up to see Cooper glaring at the assistant before running to you. His face softening as he brought a hand up to brush away a few stray hairs.

"You alright darlin'?"

You gulped before smiling, "yes Cooper. You saves me."

His grin got wide as he tipped his hat to you. "It's no problem, darlin'. I'd happily save you anytime."

You giggled before looking over and seeing people watching you two. You cleared your throat before stepping back. You brushed your hands down your dress before saying a quick 'thank you', turning to walk away.

"Hey," he called out before grabbing your wrist. "How does a cowboy go about getting a proper thank you?"

You turned and felt your face go red before quickly standing on tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek. As you pulled back you saw his mouth part and his eyes darken a bit before giving you another smile.

"Is that all?"

"I'll have to properly thank you another time Cooper," you purred before walking away. You quickly walked to your makeup trailer with your cheeks burning.

When you walked into the trailer you couldn't help the squeal that escaped as you fanned yourself. You couldn't believe you just did that. And promising to thank him another time, you knew this was going to be an interesting week.

You chewed at the bottom of your lip as you removed some makeup that smudged. You weren't use to the silence from Cooper as the radio kept playing a melody.

“Cooper, you’ve been quiet today,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looked at you, seeing the concern etched in your features.

“Just thinking,” he replied, his voice huskier than usual.

“About what?” you asked, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

“About you,” he admitted, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Y/N's hand froze mid-motion, your eyes widening slightly.

“Cooper…”

He stood up abruptly, turning to face you. The space felt too small, the air thick with unspoken words.

“Y/N, I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed, stepping closer.

“I feel this connection, this pull. And it’s driving me crazy.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you watched as his face slightly fell, fearing that he misread everything. But you stepped towards him, closing the distance. Bringing your hand up to touch his cheek, turning him to face you again.

“I feel it too,” you whispered.

That was all the encouragement he needed. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek.

“Y/N,” he breathed, and then his lips were on yours.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if you were both testing the waters. But then it deepened, filled with all the unspoken emotions and tension that had been building between them. Your hands slid to his chest, clutching his shirt as if afraid he might disappear.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathless. His eyes were bright, his cheeks flushed.

“Wow,” you said, a shy smile playing on your lips.

“Yeah,” Cooper agreed, his own smile mirroring yours, “wow.”

The world outside the trailer continued in its frenetic pace, but for that moment, it was just the two of you. The energy drew you closer to him with a fire lighting inside of you. Cooper must have seen it or felt the same way as he pulled you into a passionate kiss. You gladly opened your mouth to him as he deepened the kiss.

You were leaning against him and the lack of air must have made him dizzy because he suddenly stepped back into the counter that you placed your makeup on. It made everything jolt and roll off or roll over onto the floor; but it didn't both either of you as he tangled his hand into your hair. You moaned lowly as he tugged at your strands before you pulled away panting. His eyes were ablazed as you slowly knelt in front of him. You gave him a wide grin as you rub his budlge in his jeans. He groaned and dropped his head back as you fiddled with his belt buckle.

“Can I have a taste Coop?”

“Yes,” he rasped as you unbuckled his belt. You decided to tease the man as you slowly unbuttoned and slid the zipper down. You pulled his pants and boxers down as his cock sprang up. You ran a finger from the slit in the head down his cock, following along a vein, until the base. You gazed up at him through your lashes and saw he was already staring down at you. His chest was heaving in pants as he gritted his teeth.

You held eye contact as you gave a little lick to his head. Jumping a little as his fist connected with the top of the counter.

“Darlin’,” he growled between his teeth. “You keep that up and I'm gonna have to spank you for teasin’.”

You giggled as you wrapped a hand around his base and licked up the vein before taking him into your mouth. He groaned before placing one hand on the back of your head and stroked your hair in encouragement. You hummed as you took down as far as you could before pulling back to stroke his cock.

As you moved your hand up and down, you can tell it will be a bit of a stretch if you decide to fuck him. With that thought you could feel how wet you were getting with each stroke and each noise that leaves Cooper's mouth. You lick at his slit, tasting his cum before putting him back on your mouth.

“Fuck darlin’,” he stopped petting your hair to storke down your cheek, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone. You heard a whine come from him as he barley thrusts into your mouth.

“Look up at me darling girl. I want to watch as you swallow my cum.”

Your eyes fluttered open to stare into his eyes. You could see his shoulders relaxed as you did and his mouth drops open with moan. You place your hands down on your lap and open your mouth wider as he takes over. His hands tangle in your hair and starts panting as he thrusts into your mouth.

You try so hard to keep your eyes open as one of your hands pulls up your skirt and shove your panties to the side to rub at your clit. His eyes moved down to see what she was doing and throws his head back before starting to ramble.

“Fuck Y/N, you're enjoying this? God you're so perfect for me. Sucking my cock like you were made for it. You're such a good girl. I'm gonna cum soon. You want it in your mouth?”

At his last question, his head snaps back down to catch your eyes as you whine and try to give a nod. He groans as thrusts into your mouth again to cum down your throat. You gag a bit at the last thrust before swallowing his cum down. As he pulls away you stick your tongue to show you swallowed it down as he grins.

“Good girl. Now get up here.”

He helps you stand on shaky legs, not use to being in that position for so long. He pulled you into a kiss as one hand squeezed your breast. You moaned as he pushed you down to sit on the makeup chair. You took in a shaky breath as he got on his knees. He grinned as you pushed your hips up to pull your panties off. He pulled them off and placed your legs on his shoulders before diving down to lick up your slit. You cried out with your head throwing back as he sucked your clit into his mouth.

Your body slid down as you reached up to grab the headrest and tangle your fingers into his hair. You give a tug and he moans against you. The vibrations made you moan out his name. He suddenly pulled away as you whined pitifully at the loss, before he pulled you into a kiss.

“I'm sorry darlin’ but I have to have you,” he kissed down your neck. He pulled you up before settling into the chair. He had you facing the mirror as he pulled you back into him. You leaned back into him as he grabbed your hips. You laid your head on his shoulder as he teased his cock against your opening. He used your slick to lube up his cock before pushing into you. You hid your face into his neck as you gasped and clawed at the chair arms. He felt too big and didnt think he was going to fit all the way. He moaned as you squeezed around him and shifted around to get comfortable.

“Here baby sit up.” His chest rumbled against your back as he spoke. He helped you sit up properly, your skirt bunched up around your waist. You looked up in front of you in the mirror and couldn't believe how wrecked you looked. Your face was flushed with wide eyes and lipstick smeared. Cooper sat up and you watched him as he took in the both of you.

“A perfect picture, don't you think?”

He smiled as you nodded along before wrapping an arm around your waist. You placed your hands on the chair arms again as lifted yourself up before dropping down. His eyes snapped shut and mouth open in a low moan as you repeated the motion. His other hand pushed your shirt up and bra down to expose your breasts. He pinched your nipple before letting go to rub his thumb against it.

You cried out and shifted your hips until it hit the spot that made you almost fall forward. He held onto you as he moved his legs wider and pushed up into you. You couldn't help the sob that fell out as you rolled your hips and just let him take over. The arm around your waist moved so his hand could come down and rub at your clit.

“Baby I want you to open your eyes.”

You didn't realize you had shut them until you saw how he positioned you to see his cock disappearing inside of you. You could see how easy he was moving from how wet you were. You could see how it was running down his thighs and squeezed around him again. He pinched at your clit and it made you start to shake.

“Cooper,” you whined out. Your legs were getting tense and toes curling. You could feel yourself start to titter into an orgasm as he pinched and pulled your nipple.

“Come on darlin'. You can come for me. I want to go home and be able to smell you on me.”

The way he was moving and the dirty talk helped push you over the edge. You sobbed as your whole body shook and scratched at the armchair. He pulled you back against him as he kissed your neck. He kept fucking up into you making your orgasm feel like it was lasting forever. As the orgasm ebbed away you registered that you were repeating Cooper's name, almost like a prayer on your lips. The man whispered your name into your neck before his hips stuttered. You let out a low hum before turning your head to bring him into a kiss.

“I want you to cum inside of me Cooper, please?” You purred against him and brought your hand up to tug at his hair.

He looked at you like you just hung the stars in the sky before he came with a low groan of your name. You pulled him into a kiss as his hips jerked and slammed into you for a final time. It was a while before either one of you moved, taking your time to relax and take in one another. You slowly stood to not make either of you uncomfortable as you felt everything start to leak out. You grabbed a few rags to clean up the mess between your legs, straightening out your skirt and fixing your bra and shirt back. He just pulled up his boxers and pants as he then pulled you to him. You sat back into his lap as he relaxed back into the chair, holding you close.

You closed your eyes as the exhaustion of the day caught up to you. You felt his hand brush through your hair before clearing his throat.

“How about we go back to my trailer to sleep. I think we both need it.”

You slowly nodded as your brain caught up to his words. “Yes I think we do. Then you can take me out to dinner sometime.”

He heard him chuckle before helping stand again, “yeah. How’s tomorrow night sound?”

You smiled as you yawned and followed him out to walk to his trailer, “sounds perfect.”

Taglist: @danveration

[steddieas-shegoes]

someday soon

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is having hope for the future'

rated t | 1,237 words | cw: ptsd, injury recovery, negative view of self (Steve) | tags: angst with a happy ending, getting together, hurt/comfort, falling in love

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Steve ignored his bat bites for too long.

That's what all the doctors and nurses said when he'd been rushed into the ER by Robin, panicked when he passed out and woke up with very little memory of what they'd done that day.

She assumed it was the concussions catching up to him, but it turned out to be a hell of an infection. The infection had spread from the worst bite on his side to his hip and down his leg. They caught it in time to save the leg, but it would be weak for months, if not years, and he'd need to do physical therapy to keep the muscle dense enough to walk.

Everyone was pissed at him, but mostly just happy he was finally getting taken care of. That was a difficult thing for him.

Eddie joked that it was his turn to keep him company in the hospital now, but Steve wasn't up for jokes. Not when he'd become such a burden. Not when he was pulling attention from things and people that actually needed it. He was using up resources that were already barely available for people much worse off than him.

When he was finally fever-free, showing signs of improvement, and promising to keep taking the antibiotics for two more weeks, he was set free. Eddie and Robin brought him to Eddie's trailer to ensure he would actually take care of himself, and he didn't have the heart to argue with either of them.

He felt ridiculous, every single time he got stuck on the couch because his leg was too numb to stand, every time Wayne would grab whatever thing he couldn't quite reach from the top shelf of the cabinet because he couldn't stand on both of his tip toes, whenever Eddie would half-carry him to the shower and wait by the door in case he fell on his bad days. It was all so stupid. He was stupid.

He spent his days doing what he was supposed to, but only the bare minimum. He did the exercises, but only alone in Eddie's room while he was busy at work or picking up Steve's slack. He took the meds when he was in pain instead of "suffering in silence" like Robin told him to. He packed Wayne's lunches for work as a thank you for letting him stay even though Wayne always insisted he didn't need to do anything to deserve a roof over his head and people to care.

He ignored the stupid churning in his stomach that started when he thought about what would happen when Eddie brought him back to his empty house. He ignored the butterflies every time Eddie got home while he was faking sleep on the couch and covered him with the blanket that was by his feet. He ignored the way his heart fluttered every time Eddie would make him the tea he secretly liked instead of the coffee he normally forced himself to drink.

He pretended that the love that grew in his chest was made up, that Eddie was only doing what any friend would do.

Steve only let his imagination run away with him on the nights when Eddie was at Hellfire late, when he was curled up in Eddie's bed at Eddie's insistence that he sleep there. He let himself picture a future like this: waiting up for Eddie to get home from work or a show, curled up with a pillow that smelled like him against his chest, wearing a t-shirt that had holes from being worn too much, and the mixtape Eddie made for Steve playing low in the background.

It was a perfect future.

He fell asleep to the thought of Eddie's arms around him, holding him because he wanted to, not because he had to.

He woke up to Eddie's arms around him, the dark and silent room around him making him panic until Eddie's grip tightened and he pulled him closer.

"You awake?" Eddie whispered against the top of his head.

"Yeah." Steve didn't pull away, couldn't make himself even though the alarms were going off in his brain telling him to put space between them before Eddie realized what this meant to him. "When'd you get back?"

"Hour ago maybe. Didn't mean to run so late, sorry," Eddie's fingers were tracing patterns up and down his spine.

"It's okay. You can do whatever you want," Steve let himself have this moment. He nudged his face further into Eddie's shirt, smiling at the warmth of his chest. "You sleep at all yet?"

"No, I was busy."

Steve's brows furrowed in confusion. "Doing what?"

"Watching you."

Steve turned his head so he was looking up at him. "Watching me sleep? Why the hell were you doing that?"

He should probably sound more upset, maybe more concerned about being watched while he was unconscious. But a pretty big part of him was fine with it, wanted it, hoped it meant more to Eddie too.

"The corner of your mouth twitches a lot in your sleep, did you know that? And when you're in pain or having a nightmare, it stops. Sometimes I just watch to make sure you're sleeping okay," he answered simply. "Been at least a few nights since you've had any nightmares right?"

Steve nodded, speechless at the fact that Eddie had noticed something like that.

"You curl the blanket in your hand when you sleep, too. Or my shirt. Sometimes your own shirt if you can't find anything else," Eddie continued.

Steve felt his fingers loosen in Eddie's shirt, not having noticed the way they'd been holding on for dear life this entire time.

Eddie's hand covered his, squeezing something that felt like reassurance and love right into his skin.

"You're not the same Steve you used to be, but you still worry about what people think. You can just be you. Just be Steve. I promise the Steve you are is the Steve we love," Eddie smiled down at him.

"I-" Steve took a breath. "I just don't wanna ruin it all."

"Stevie, sweetheart." Eddie shook his head. "You couldn't ruin it. When are you gonna get it through that thick head of yours that we're all stickin' this out with you?"

"But you don't have to."

"No, we don't." Eddie squeezed his hand again. "But we do. And we will."

"Even if I'm always like this?"

"Like what?"

"Recovering. Having nightmares. Scared. Robin says I might be depressed? I'm probably gonna limp forever."

"Stevie, look at me," Eddie said, tilting his face back towards him. Steve hadn't even realized he'd turned away so much. "I love you. Okay?"

"You do?"

"Do you think I notice what other people's lips do when they're sleeping?"

Steve snorted. "No, I guess not."

"I love you and sometimes that might mean I have to deal with your shit, but I want to, okay? It won't always be this much shit. I can hold your hand through it," Eddie smiled. "Now, you should go back to sleep."

"You didn't kiss me yet," Steve said around a yawn.

"We've got plenty of time for it, sweetheart. Go to sleep."

Steve believed him.

He knew it would still be shit. He knew he wouldn't always believe what Eddie said. He knew he'd still feel like a burden.

But they had time to wade through it together.

[breelandwalker]

Life Hack - Office Worker Self Care Kit

Here's a little life hack I've developed as a person who's worked in some kind of office environment for most of their adult life. If you have a personal workstation with the capacity for a small storage bin and the security to leave personal items on a longterm basis (i.e. in a locked drawer), make yourself a self-care kit. It's a lifesaver on the days when you've run late or just aren't feeling your best.

All it takes is a shoebox-sized storage bin with a secure lid. You can use inexpensive items and travel-sized containers to save space, and personalize the contents to your own needs. Don't worry about keeping a huge supply of anything - just a few emergency backups. And don't leave anything in the kit that would get you in trouble with the bosses or that you'd regret losing, just in case.

Here's what I keep in mine:

Travel-sized toothbrush and toothpaste

Travel-sized deodorant

Mini bottle of dry shampoo

Folding hairbrush with mirror and spare scrunchie

Tweezers, nail clippers, and emery board

Travel-sized facial cleanser and small silicon scrub pad

Small tins of moisturizer and hand cream

Small bottle of hand sanitizer

Small bottle of medicine for aches and pains

Packets of medicine for stomach trouble

Period supplies (pads, tampons, and one of those warming packs for cramp relief)

A few bandaids and alcohol wipes

Bottle of clear nail polish (trust me)

Laundry pen for removing stains

Travel-sized bottle of fabric refresher spray

Spare bottle of energy drink

Spare earbuds

Spare charge cable

A couple of disposable face masks

Emergency breath-freshening gum

Emergency granola bar (replace often)

Emergency bundle of liquid concealer, mascara, brow pencil, and tinted chapstick (this covers MANY sins)

And yes, this all fits into the bin with room to spare. Some of it the smaller items are stowed together in cheap pencil cases, just to make it easier to find things quickly.

This is something you can also keep in your car or have ready to toss into your luggage if you travel often. It's also great for keeping in your locker (if you're able to do so) just for those OH NO moments during the school day. And you can customize the contents to your personal needs.

(Pro-tip: Makeup and skin care are for EVERYONE.)

[fiercebb]

I would just like to tip my hat to Good Omens season 2 for the setting. I absolutely LOVED the fact that most of the action takes place in the neighborhood. Because if season one was about the world, season two was truly about them.

I loved getting to know all the other businesses, seeing Aziraphale and Crowley interact with their owners, and above all, seeing them get so domestic with each other in their own safe space. The entire season is just so personal and homely.

I think the Ball episode best illustrates this for me. The entire neighborhood is packed in the bookshop, threats looming outside, and Crowley going back and forth trying to save everyone.

And of course, he says "I'm coming back. I won't leave you on your own." and Aziraphale is relieved to see him walk though the door ("You came back.")

In the end, the season was, as Neil said, quiet, gentle, and romantic, and I think the setting played a big part in that. The ending doesn’t change any of that, as much as it hurt.

[moonbeamwritings]

making a house a home

inspired by this post *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

pairing: hawks x gn!reader

wc: 1.3k

There’s a loneliness that clings to every surface of Keigo’s apartment. It lingers in the slight dip on one side of the couch and not the other. It stakes its claim in the one chair at his dining table that's always pulled out while the others remain unoccupied. His bed is much too big, too; cold and empty, and like so many other spots in his home, untouched on one side.

His walls are bare, save for the odd photo here and there; one frame in his bedroom, a few in the hallway, one or two on the wall in the living room. It’s a feeble attempt to prove to himself that there are people in his life, though when he racks his brain, Keigo struggles to conjure the names of anyone he considers a true friend, anyone he considers family. At the end of the day, the pictures scattered about are just that — pictures. His apartment is still empty; his heart still yearns.

Every night, with exhaustion weighing him down and a soreness in his joints, Keigo comes home to near deafening silence, to dark rooms and cold spaces. And every night, despite the ache in his ribs, he calls out a chipper, “Honey, I’m home!” A call he knows will go unanswered, like the final, resolute trill of a species on the verge of extinction.

Everything changes when he meets you.

It’s a typical morning in the middle of January, and the streets are packed despite the chill that clings to the air, despite the threat of snow, and Keigo takes the extra time to walk to the coffee place down the street from his agency instead of fly. It kills a little time, and it’s nice to let the cool air gently fill his lungs instead of whip into his face in flight.

And just as he rounds the final corner, he slams into your smaller frame. You stumble, bag toppling off your shoulder, contents spilling out and onto the sidewalk.

“Oop,” he says, steadying you on your feet before stooping down to help you collect some of your things. “Sorry about that. Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

You smile, a casual, sweet thing that makes Keigo’s face feel warm. You’re pretty. “No harm done. I wasn’t looking either.”

With the last of your stuff thrown back into your bag, you offer him one more of those pretty smiles and a kind “thank you” before you’re disappearing up the street.

Keigo lingers for a moment, watching you until you get swallowed by the crowd before he, too, turns and continues on his way. By the time he orders his coffee and his day begins in earnest, he’s forgotten all about his earlier encounter.

That is, until he’s on his lunch break. His stomach, and the ice that clings to his bones despite his jacket and thick gloves, has guided him to the nearest ramen shop, on the hunt for something warm to fill his belly. And once he’s in line, he catches sight of a familiar face — you.

“You again,” you tease, fixing him with that same, friendly grin. You lean a little closer to whisper, “Am I on some watchlist I don’t know about?”

A smirk graces his features as he ducks to whisper back conspiratorially, “Oh yeah.” He pats the pocket on the left-hand side of his coat. “Got your wanted poster right here.”

“Damn,” you mutter, lifting your free hand in mock surrender. “You got me.”

“But I’m a nice guy,” he reminds you with a resolute nod. “So I’ll at least let you eat lunch first.”

You sigh dreamily, batting your lashes at him dramatically before dropping a warm hand against his shoulder. It damn near burns a hole through his jacket, and he can feel the heat from it travel up to the tips of his ears. “You’re so kind.”

A smirk. “I try.”

The conversation lulls for only a moment as your order number gets called, and his follows shortly after. You stand shoulder to shoulder as you both scan the restaurant for an open table. It’s the lunch rush, so the place is jam-packed with patrons.

You steady your tray in a firm grip. “It looks like that’s the only table open.” Keigo follows your eyes over to a small table nestled in the corner by the window. “Do you wanna, maybe, sit together?”

Keigo knows that he should probably refuse. He can imagine the headlines and social media threads now — No. 2 Hero on a Quest for Love, Has Pro-Hero Hawks Finally Been Snatched Up? — but as he watches you shift your weight from foot to foot, eyeing him with what he can only describe as a sheepish smile, he can’t bring himself to deny you.

“Sure, lead the way.”

After that, one chance encounter leads to a dinner date one weekend and a movie date the next. Before suddenly you’re spending nights at his apartment and he’s cooking you breakfast in the morning.

It’s tough at first. Guys like him don’t usually date. They hide and work and yearn until they’ve given the universe all they have. Until there’s nothing left. Keigo’s line of work doesn’t allow him the luxury of relaxation, the comfort of being... normal. It’s a delicate balance, protecting you and spending time with you, one that takes weeks to find. But when he does, Keigo starts to feel a little less lonely. Slowly, he starts to realize just how easily you’ve wormed your way into his life, into his heart.

Your shoes fit so perfectly next to his, right by the door. You snuggle into his side on the couch, perching yourself in the chair across from his at the dinner table. Keigo finds that he sleeps so much better with you nuzzled beneath his chin, even if you try to hog the sheets. You’re occupying spaces that have never been occupied before, exploring uncharted territory.

You leave your mark on his home when your clothes start to join his in the closet, when your toothbrush sits next to his in the bathroom. You place your succulents on his windowsill and buy a fresh vase of flowers for the dining table every two weeks.

Walls that were once barren fill, and they fill quickly. “It’s sad, Keigo,” you’d told him with a pout, staring at the blank canvas that he calls his living room wall. “You deserve better than this.”

His chest floods with affection when he comes home one evening to see that you’ve set up what you call a gallery wall. A collection of different artworks and prints and photographs litter his wall, their sizes and frames varying to draw his eye to each one. They fit together like puzzle pieces.

You were right, he’d always deserved better than those barren walls, than his cold, lonely apartment. And now that you’ve shown him what warmth feels like, Keigo knows he’ll never stop clinging to it.

His favorite thing of all, though, is getting to come home to you.

“Honey, I’m home!” Keigo calls, and almost reflexively he braces for silence, one he’s grown so accustomed to, but that cursed silence never comes. Instead, the sweet, familiar sound of your voice is there to greet him.

“‘M in the kitchen!”

The smell of food wafts through the air, radiating through every corner of his apartment as Keigo approaches you. He wraps his arms around your waist and squeezes before pulling you back towards his chest.

You stop what you’re doing to lean back into his hold, curling a gentle hand under his jaw and leaning up to capture his lips with your own. When you pull away, Keigo can feel your grin against his lips. “Welcome home.”

And, oh, how his heart soars at the sound.

You’ve made his house a home, your home, and Keigo’s certain that he’ll never be able to repay you for what you’ve done for him, for how you’ve changed his life. But with you in his arms, staring up at him with adoration glimmering in your pretty eyes, Keigo decides that a gentle kiss and a soft, but earnest, “I love you” is as good a place to start as any.

[alchemistc]

goon | bucktommy

THE HOCKEY AU HAS A PROLOGUE

read on ao3

Tommy Kinard is hanging up his skates at the end of the season. It's time. He's ready to move on with his life. He's ready to give his knees a fucking break. The trade to the odds on favorite to win the damn thing this year is just another in a series of trades throughout his career that makes sense - he's there to allow a winning team to unload cap space, he'll get a couple minutes a night in the ramp up to playoffs, he'll retire without fanfare once the season is over. Coach Nash has other plans for him, and the team he's been traded to think he's the bees fucking knees. He's just trying to get through the rest of this season without dragging Evan Buckley into a closet and kissing him breathless.

Tommy’s a little out of breath. That’s to be expected, really — he’s been in town for a day and a half and there’s nothing quite like a practice at elevation with the fastest team in the league to cut his teeth on.

Hen eyes him up as he skates over to the bench to grab at a water bottle. She’s trying to her damndest to hide an amused grin, and failing miserably. “We keep oxygen tanks in medical,” she observes, a little sing-songy, and Tommy doesn’t bother to hide his rolling eyes or the tic in his jaw.

“I’m fine.”

Her face tells him everything he needs to know about how breathless that had sounded.

It’d been nice, finding a familiar face in the crowd after spending twenty minutes getting a tour of the practice facilities from the kid most of the league viewed with a kind of hushed reverence, save for the few who'd lived with the star power long enough to get used to it.

Tommy rarely got star-struck, anymore, but he hadn’t actually expected this years likely Hart recipient to be the first teammate to make contact; to swing by the hotel room to pick him up for practice when Tommy admitted he didn’t even have a rental yet, and he’d likely have to Uber; to walk him through and introduce him as teammates trickled in; to warn him ahead of time that eagle-eyed fans in the stands would definitely notice if his tape didn’t match the white socks still in their packaging laid out on the bottom shelf of the locker where they’d already printed off a name-card for him (”Here, I have an extra roll.”); to grin and shake his head a little when Tommy questioned exactly how many fans were likely to come to a weekday practice at the tail end of January.

Eight years out from the last time he’d seen Henrietta Wilson, calling out a red-faced AHL coach for throwing a kid back out on the ice with clear signs of a concussion, and she’s still not entertaining bullshit. “Okay, my conditioning could use some work.”

Eyebrow up over the rim of her glasses, she grabs for the water bottle and replaces it with a juicebox. Easiest ad placement since Gatorade made a name for themselves in dugouts and on sidelines, but Tommy’s got to admit it’s nice to have this shit so readily available. When he’d first been starting out, drinking anything but water (and maybe a beer between periods) had been considered pansy ass shit. “You’ll get used to the altitude. Not sure you’ll ever catch up to the pace.”

Tommy has no doubt. He hasn’t played against this specific configuration of this team, but they’ve been well known for their breakneck speed for years. He’s not an ungraceful man, but today he’s felt a bit like a baby giraffe trying to keep up with a pack of antelope, lumbering around with limbs that just won’t cooperate (and are probably gonna fucking cramp up the moment he stops moving) and lungs that aren’t taking in enough air to manage the bursts of speed these guys are executing like a light jog on a breezy spring day.

Tommy downs the electrolyte drink and takes a deep breath through his nose. “Why the fuck am I here, Hen?”

She purses her lips, tips her chin out in the general direction of where a few guys are still taking drills even as practice winds down. “Because these idiots are convinced they’re invincible, and no one has the heart to tell them talking shit to Trouba again is gonna end with one of them on a stretcher.”

Which — he’d known, in the abstract. Having an enforcer riding the bench for fifty plus minutes a night was an old school way of handling a small-light-fast team with just enough shit-talkers and star players to draw attention. Unexpected, in the current layout of the league, but not completely unbelievable. The GM had been a little shifty, yesterday, essentially reciting the same line as Hen but dressing it up in a whole lot of fancy front-office speak Tommy’s never really had the time for. He’s barely had a chance to talk to Nash, yet, but he’s sure he’ll hear echoes of it from his new head coach, too.

Tommy watches Diaz and Buckley taking turns blocking whiffle balls in front of the net; Chimney still taking drills at the net with their EBUG — McKinley had introduced him and wandered off to lace up his skates (”You can call me Nozzle,” the guy had told him, torso looking tiny in just his leg pads without his shell, too-long hair and that manic gleam in his eye that only goalies ever truly had, while Tommy listened to him talk about his plumbing apprenticeship and his daughter who loved hockey as much as her dad but wanted to be, of all things, a defenseman.); Greenway and Kinnunen taking shots from the circle getting increasingly more frustrated the longer Chim and Nozzle swapping in and out changes nothing about their ability to sneak the puck in five-hole.

There’s a palpable energy to this group. Something stirring in the air — between the single-minded focus of their stars, and the attentive way their third and fourth lines are still all out here after Nash had gathered them all in for an end-of-practice huddle, Tommy can feel the anticipation of more. More wins, more lessons, more conditioning, anything that will get this team past the second round with an eye toward the Cup. It’s been years since he’s been on a team with this much fucking focus.

Tommy eyes the fans still slowly trickling out from the bleachers — knows through word of mouth they’re likely gonna be sitting outside the parking lot waiting to see who’s gonna shift into park and lean out a window to sign some shit, talk to people for a minute or two. Kinda hopes McKinley’s still down to drive him back to his hotel so that he can watch some kid go feral when McKinley rolls down his window to greet him.

Well shit. If he’s gonna buy in, he might as well get a head start.

He turns back to Hen.

“Bunting never even got fined for that boarding call against Pannikar last year, did he?”

Hen grins. “No headshots, please.”