i love the arch personally. i think it’s so cool to see on the river. very massive, and you can ride the little cars to the top. however! it’s a little claustrophobic. AND it should be a national monument not a park but that’s a different story.
my reasonings: the avs mentioned bc you’re an avs and while these are arguably their strongest players it’s also the ones i’ve seen you mention the most.
nico and timo bc duh
draisaitl i’ve seen you mention as one of your favs. kuzy the same (such a cutie pie) keumper, former av
anders lee bc i saw your post that his trade made you cry bc that really stuck with me for some reason.
Music game!!!! I was tagged by my pookie @mikkomacko
rules: shuffle your ‘on repeat’ playlist and post the first ten tracks, then tag ten people
1.) everyone’s a star by 5sos
2.) ready, steady, go! by harry styles
3.) be like a woman by chris rainbow
4.) start over by 5sos
5.) my own worst enemy by lit
6.) brown eyed girl by van morrison
7.) pop by harry styles
8.) evolve by 5sos
9.) istillfeelthesame by 5sos
10.) what a feeling by one direction
normally my entire summer on repeat is country music because that’s literally what summer is about. google play it’s 5’oclock somewhere by alan jackson. however, i saw 5sos this summer so ive been listening to the fuck outta them.
anyway, tagging some cuties :) @star2fishmeg @wannabehockeygf @hat-trick-honey @wineauntie
envisioning some sweet passionate celebratory sex w/john marino after his first game back tn.
nsfw blurb below - p in v, silly lighthearted sex
john’s laugh cuts through the room, breathless and warm, as you plant your hands on his chest, grinding down on him like it’s a competition. “jesus christ, babe, you trying to break my back all over again?” he teases, his voice low and raspy, his grin lazy but full of affection.
you roll your eyes, but the way your body shifts on his cock, slow and deliberate now, is anything but dismissive. “you’re not that fragile,” you shoot back, though your smile betrays you. “you just survived ninety minutes of getting slammed into boards by dudes twice your size.”
“yeah, and my back held up because i wasn’t getting ridden like a bucking bronco,” he counters, his hands sliding up your thighs, squeezing at the soft curve of them. his fingers press into your skin just hard enough to make you shiver.
you lean forward, bracing yourself on his chest, and his eyes flicker down to where your bodies meet, his lips parting at the slick glide of you moving over him. “thought you’d be grateful,” you murmur, your voice playful as you dip your head to brush your lips against his.
“oh, i’m grateful,” he says, his voice dropping lower, his hands finding your hips now, holding you still. he grins up at you, his hair a mess of sweaty curls against the pillow. “just don’t wanna end up in traction again. you’d hate taking care of me, admit it.”
“please,” you scoff, shifting in his grip to circle your hips slowly, drawing a sharp inhale from him. “i’m the one who kept you sane while you were scratched, remember? who put up with your bitching about missing games?”
“and who rubbed my back every night,” he adds, his hands sliding up your sides, pushing your shirt—his shirt, technically—higher. his thumbs brush over your ribs, making you shiver. “which, by the way, was incredible. you missed your calling as a masseuse.”
“oh, shut up,” you laugh, but it turns into a gasp as he lifts his hips, meeting you halfway. you brace yourself on his chest, your nails dragging lightly over his skin, and he groans, his head tipping back against the pillows.
“fuck, you feel good,” he murmurs, his grip on your hips tightening as you start to move again, slow but steady, letting him fill you completely with every roll of your body. his eyes are half-lidded, glassy, but he’s still smiling, that soft, lopsided grin that makes your chest ache.
“you okay, old man?” you tease, leaning down to kiss along his jaw, nipping lightly at his stubble.
“i’m twenty-seven, not eighty,” he protests, but his voice hitches when you grind down harder, your teeth grazing his neck. “oh, fuck. okay, okay, maybe slow down a little.”
you pull back just enough to look at him, your brows raised. “john, if you tell me to take it easy one more time—”
“then what?” he cuts in, grinning even as his breath comes faster, his hands sliding up to cup your face. “you gonna punish me? ride me harder? really risk me snapping in two?”
“you’re the worst,” you mutter, but you’re laughing as you say it, your forehead pressed to his.
“but you love me,” he counters, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. his eyes soften, that playful edge fading just enough to let something sweeter bleed through. “don’t you?”
“yeah,” you admit, your voice quieter now, but you keep moving, your rhythm slow and deliberate, every motion drawing a low, wrecked sound from his throat. “i do. even if you’re a huge pain in my ass.”
“good,” he murmurs, his hands sliding back down to grip your hips, guiding you as you move together. “’cause i’m fucking obsessed with you.”
the words send a flush through you, heat curling low in your belly, and you lean down to kiss him, slow and deep, swallowing the soft, broken moans he lets out against your lips. his hips start to lift again, meeting you halfway, and the way he fills you—stretching you, grounding you—makes you shudder.
“you’re mine,” he murmurs when you pull back for air, his voice rough but full of warmth, his eyes locked on yours. “you know that, right? no matter where i play, or what happens...you’re fucking it for me.”
your chest tightens at the sincerity in his voice, but before you can respond, he bucks his hips harder, drawing a startled moan from you. his grin returns, cocky and teasing.
“what’s wrong, babe? losing your train of thought?”
“shut up, john,” you gasp, your fingers curling against his chest as you start to move faster, determined to wipe that smug look off his face. his laugh melts into a groan, his hands gripping your hips tighter as you ride him harder, chasing the edge together.
“fuck,” he breathes, his voice shaky now, his grin faltering as his head tilts back again. “okay, maybe—maybe break me a little. just not too much.”
you laugh, leaning down to kiss him again, and this time, neither of you stops until the room is filled with the sound of tangled breaths, soft laughter, and the echoes of a celebration only the two of you get to share.
jacobvanloon
ellievsbear
kianamaiart
dailybridgerton
snowghoul
areudirty
