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[cliftonclothing]

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[marketing2011]

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[rafeandonlyrafe]

the bosses daughter part one

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, male and female receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex, semi public sex, golfer!rafe

part one / part two

“who is that?” rafe asks, leaning forward to get a better view of the ponytail that's swishing through a sea of polo shirts.

“bosses daughter.” his coworker quickly warns. “don't even acknowledge her of he'll fire your ass.”

rafe doesn't take the threat too seriously. he's mostly just working to please his dad and show ward that he can commit to something, even if it is just teaching golf lessons twice a week.

“she's hot though.” he argues back, eyes moving down your back to the short golf skirt covering your ass, accentuated by your thick thighs.

“which is why she'll never go for you anyways.” despite his coworkers jokes, he's got it all wrong.

“why hello.” you smile, walking up to rafe a while later, when he's out away from the central club and warming up with some swings. “i don't think we've met before. im y/n.”

“rafe.” he answers happily, finishing the last ball of the line off with a powerful swing that you both watch go sailing through the air. “pleasure to meet you.”

“you haven't been working here long.” you state. “im sure i would have remembered you.”

“oh yeah?” rafe smirks. “and why's that?”

your cheeks tinge with blush but it doesn't stop your tongue. “you're just my type. i already remember all the cute golf guys.”

“all of them?” rafe raises his eyebrows. “you're already making me jealous, princess.”

“well, if it makes you feel better you're the one i left the club to find.” you hum out, leaning your hip against his golf cart.

“and it would make me feel even better if you found me again after my lesson.” rafe looks at the 10 year old he's been teaching as he trods through the grass. “don't want your dad to get mad about me missing a lesson, though i would for you gorgeous.”

you smile, biting your tongue to stop yourself from continuing to flirt as the mother of the young golfer crests the hill. you watch the lesson for a few minutes before retreating back to the country club.

“any of the guys giving you shit, y/n?” your dad calls as you enter into the bar area, of course sat chatting with a customer and longtime family friend, which was the category most of the clientele

fell into.

“nope.” you answer, popping your p. “i was just watching a lesson for a bit. cute little kid and the instructor was real nice. i think he's new.”

“rafe?” your dad raises his eyebrows and you don't miss his friend chuckling. “you stay away from him y/n.” he says sternly.

“ugh, you tell me to stay away from everyone dad.” you roll your eyes dramatically.

“exactly.” your dad says, giving you a pointed look. 

you give him a pout right back and leave the room, finding a quiet spot to scroll on your phone as you wait for time to pass, ready to not take your father's advice.

you figure rafes lesson must be over by now and make your way back outside, deciding to ditch the golf cart and go on foot looking for him. you make it only a short distance down the main path until you spot him.

“still jealous?” you question, sliding into the passenger seat of his golf cart. rafe instantly takes off, driving you slowly away from the centralized area.

“depends on what you were doing while i was teaching.” rafe hums out, a hand reaching over to place itself on your thigh, a still respectable distance for now.

“oh, just getting a lecture from my dad to stay away from you.”

“and yet here you are…” rafes hand inches higher. “letting me drive you away from the club.”

“hopefully to the most isolated spot…” you take rafes hand and move it upwards, guiding his fingers underneath your skirt, making your intentions blatantly obvious.

“as concealed as possible, yeah?” rafe asks, hand slipping between your thighs, pressing against your core as he begins to stroke softly. “not a fan of being watched?”

“not when everyone would run back to tell my father.” you chuckle before gasping as rafes fingers change their angle to rub directly against your clit.

“then your better keep a straight face while we drive past these guys.” rafe warns. your eyes blink open, you hadn't even realized that you closed them. 

you let out a soft moan as rafe presses further into your clit, knowing that the front of the golf cart is blocking their view of his hand underneath your skirt.

“come on, at least try to hide how good im making you feel.” rafe smirks at you as you attempt to straighten out your face as you drive by, thankfully the golfers are more interested in their game than whoever is speeding by.

rafe moves to a hole that's been taken off the course in favor for new builds, waiting for it to be revamped, meaning no one is likely to be around.

“behind the trees.” you point ahead at a patch of pines that should conceal you perfectly.

rafe pulls his hand from your pants as you let out a huff of disapproval, only for him to quickly put the car into park. 

you both jump at each other at the same time, lips finding lips as you straddle rafe, hands on his neck as you kiss him passionately.

rafes hands are now free to explore without worrying about wandering eyes, rubbing down your back before dropping to grip your ass from underneath the flap of your skirt.

you can't help yourself, needing the stimulation back on your clit as you push your hips down, grinding against rafes cock as you feel him stiffening and growing underneath you.

“wanna suck you off.” you tell rafe, sliding off his lap and onto the floor of the golf cart.

“hell fucking yeah.” rafe growls out, watching with anticipation as you reach for the zipper on his golf shorts, tugging at the metal until he lifts his hips to help you pull the khaki material down to his ankles.

your eyes crinkle with a smile as you see rafes length clearly pushing against the fabric of his underwear.

despite needing him desperately, you can't help but tease him as you press kisses from his base to the head of his cock, a small wet spot already forming.

your tongue pokes out to taste him, wetting the material even more until you can't take the barrier any longer and shove rafes underwear down, allowing his cock to spring out.

you open your mouth to tell rafe how big his cock is, when his hips surge forward and his hand comes to the back of your neck at the same time, pushing your head down onto his cock.

you gag at the sudden and unexpected intrusion, but the sound only seems to turn rafe on more as his cock twitches in your mouth.

you begin to start a steady rhythm, rafes hips raising to meet yours as you get used to the feeling of his length down your throat.

“fuck!” rafe groans out. “what a mouth you got on you.”

you try to resist the urge to smile, but rafe can still feel the sides of your mouth quirking up.

rafe pulls you by your hair, raising your face up to meet his as he smashes his lips against his, not caring that he can taste himself slightly under the overpowering flavor of your strawberry chapstick.

“need you.” rafe says, tugging on your hair again.

you move quickly, standing up with slightly wobbly knees as you pull your skirt and panties down in one smooth go.

“shit.” rafe groans, pussy right at his eye level. “need to do this first though.”

rafes chin forces your thighs further apart as you fall backwards, bum landing on the steering wheel while his mouth finds your cunt, tongue teasing your clit in wide circles as you wait for him to finally pass over the bundle of nerves.

just when you think that rafe isn't going to, his tongue flicks against your clit before latching around it, sucking harshly as he looks up, watching the way you moan out, still trying not to be too loud.

“ride me.” rafe says, pulling away, knowing he could eat your pussy forever but that you both don't have the luxury of time. certainly your dad would be getting suspicious of your absence soon.

rafe leans back, allowing you to straddle him again, knees pressing into the leathery seat material.

you reach down to take his cock in your hand by the base, lining him up with your entrance before sinking down with a moan falling from both of your lips.

“god, you're so warm and wet.” rafe moans out, eyes glossed over as he looks at you, both soaking in the moment of your bodies joined together before you start to move, hips rising up before falling quickly, pussy clenching around his cock with every movement.

“you feel perfect.” you tell rafe honestly, loving the way he hits that hidden sweet spot inside of you every single time without fail.

you place your hands on rafes chest, providing you some more stability as you speed up until you're bouncing up and down on his dick.

rafes hands find your hips, helping you move up and down the second you show any sign of fatigue.

“im- i don't know how much longer im going to last.” rafe warns. he wishes he could keep going, but with already having your mouth around him, he knows he's about to reach his limit. 

“touch my clit.” you command rafe, knowing that's all you need to reach your own high.

rafe listens to your demands instantly, thumb finding your clit as he places the pad over it, rubbing in quick circles, even concentrating enough to spell out the letters of his name onto your clit.

“f-fuck!” you squeal. “keep going!”

rafe begins to push his hips up to join you, both of you pushing your tired muscles as hard as you can, waiting to see who the first one will be to break.

your high breeches suddenly, back arching as you cum with a gasp of rafes name. you push yourself as deep onto rafes cock as you can, moaning when you feel him release, cum flooding your insides as you reach your highs simultaneously.

you fall forward as rafe gives a few more thrusts to help ride out your highs.

“shit.” you whine with a giggle as your face presses into rafes chest. “that was so fucking good.”

“honestly, i could stay like this forever.” rafe says, hand squeezing your ass.

“but…” 

“but your dad.”

“ugh.” you sit up, pushing a couple strands of hair off your face that are sticking to your sweaty forehead. “i hate that you're right.”

“but my next lesson is thursday.” rafe says as you carefully slide off his cock, knowing you need to redress immediately. “if you'd like to find me after that shift.”

“hm…” you sit back down next to rafe once you've got your skirt on, watching as he covers himself back up and makes himself presentable again. “i think i can do that.”

“promise you baby, you won't have to look too hard.” rafe pulls you into one last strong kiss before taking off back towards the club.

[sunraies]

How about the reader being a waitress and spilling Rafes drink all over him accidentally and while she's patting him down with a cloth to clean him up he gets an erection with smut pretty please

Sure! I made Rafe soft, no pun intended. I've only proofread once x

Spilt Drink

Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings - MDNI!! +18, slight sub!reader x dom!Rafe, smoking reader, smoking, fingering, P in V, pill mentioned, rushed smut.

As requested above

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

It was a disgustingly hot day. Summer in the Outerbanks was always hot, humid and dry. The Cut was always a dull yellow and the roads dust. While Figure Eight was lush and green with the tarmac melting on the roads.

One good thing about working at the Country Club was the air conditioning but the black restaurant uniform code, still made you sweat. That day you decided to wear as little as possible in the form of a little black dress. Still technically in the uniform code but more cooling than the polo shirt and black pants combo you normally wore.

The moment Rafe entered with Topper and Kelce, he had to do a double take on you. You looked so different, he couldn't pin point how as he had seen you in both your work and Pogue attire but in that dress you looked gorgeous.

You groaned internally as you spotted who walked in after finishing cleaning a table. The three of them were always so loud, taking up the plush sofa chairs in the middle as they would most likely be there for the rest of the afternoon. They had clearly been golfing that morning as Rafe's cheeks were a little pink from the sun.

"Hi, what can I get you?" You asked was fake smile and sweet tone as you pulled your notepad and pen from your apron.

"3 beers" Kelce said, not even looking at you.

"And a water" Topper added as Rafe just sneak looks at you.

He hid his smirk with his hand, faking uninterest as he looked you up and down. Subconsciously you pulled the hem of your dress down a little

"Coming right up" you gave them another smile before heading to the bar and placing the order.

"Rafe was totally checking you out" Mags said as she poured the drinks, giving you a wink. The slightly older woman was one of your close friends.

"Oh fuck off" you whispered "He was not"

"Girl, he was. Man was practically giving you the sex eyes"

"Shut up. He was not"

"I mean who wouldn't. You are killer in that dress"

You tugged the hem again before noticing the top would pull down more, giving a lot of cleavage.

"Why didn't you tell me it did this?!" You hissed

She just hummed and continuing with the drinks. "You look good" she shrugged "not that you don't always"

You shook your head and smiled at her before carrying the drinks over. You interrupted them in the middle of laughing about something. As you placed the drinks down, everything was going fine until the condensation on the glass made it slip out of your hand. 

Time seemed to go in slow motion as the glass hit the table, toppling on its side and pouring all of its contents into Rafe's lap. He managed to open his legs the minute the beer hit him, causing most to go on the floor.

"I'm so sorry, sir" In your panic you went into full customer service mode.

You needed this job, and if he went to your boss, you would be out the door. Just your luck to spill a drink in Rafe fucking Cameron's lap.

He tried not to groan as you leant over him, dabbing his lap with napkins from the table. He felt intoxicated by the smell of your shampoo, perfume and sweat. He closed his eyes a moment as he realised he could see down your dress before slightly jumping as you applied pressure to his crotch.

"I got it" He snapped, trying to take the napkins from you but it was too late as you felt it.

Your cheeks burned as you noticed his erection and quickly moved away. "I'll go get you another beer"

You got Mags to get the drink as you hurried out back, claiming you needed a smoke. As you pushed the back door open, your hands fumbled for your cigarettes before popping a smoke in your mouth before realising you forgot your lighter.

"Fuck"

You stood against the wall in the shade, desperately trying not to overthink the whole scene in there. Had he really been looking at you that way and was he really that big, or were you imagining it.

As you were about to head back inside the door opened again and your eyes widened as Rafe walked out. A small part of you was a little scared, although he was never awful to you, he was still a Pogue hating Kook and you had just embarrassed him.

"You need a light?"

You stared at him, that was not the reaction you had been expecting "What?"

"You need a light?"  He pulled out his own cigarette from his pocket and lit it before passing you the lighter

"Your hand's shaking, sweetheart" He pointed out as you took the lighter.

"Just been a hard day" you muttered taking a drag before realising the pun "god, shit, sorry! A long day..."

Your cheeks burned again as you covered your face, deciding to stop talking. You exhaled a shaky breathe as he hummed, leaving the silence between you.  He moved to rest against the wall beside you, his arm touching yours. You didn't dare move until he spoke.

"You don't have any fucking idea, what happened in there, do you?" He sighed, looking over at you.

"I'm honestly so sorry"

You took a few glances at him, noticing him just staring at you before his jaw ticked and he blew out a few smoke rings.

"Why do you keep staring?"  You muttered "because if you are thinking of ways to kill me, stop"

His jaw ticked again before he let out a low chuckle. "I'm staring because you are gorgeous and I'm thinking of ways to fuck you"

You swallowed, glad the wall was holding you up as your knees felt weak. Anyone else talking to you in that way would have been punched but the way his eyes were blown and the effect you knew you had on him. It was causing a whole damn zoo to explode in your stomach.

He smirked, watching your reaction before finishing his smoke, throwing the butt away before you mirrored his actions.

"Would you like that, baby girl?" He asked leaning closer to you as you nodded. "Words, sweetheart"

"Yes" you breathed out

"Yes? What?" His eyes were teasing. You frowned at him a little before he gave you a clue "you know what the word did to me"

"Yes, sir?" You were uncertain before a smile broke out on his face.

"Good" He whispered, his ringed hand cupping your cheek as his thumb ran over your bottom lip.

Your breath hitched in your chest as his ocean eyes locked on yours before he leaned in more. The tip of his nose brushed against yours, before he finally kissed you. He tasted of smoke but you didn't care as his lips were so soft and he knew what he was doing. He gently bit your lip, causing you to gasp and give his tongue entrance.

You felt a warm tingle down your spine as you felt his large hand against your lower back, pulling you towards him. He chuckled against your lips as you wrapped a leg around him.

"Needy, aren't you baby?"  He purred, breaking away to kiss your neck.

You can't help the moan that escape you as he nibbled a sweet spot while his hand glided up your thigh. You knew you had already soaked through your underwear as he continued peppering your neck and jawline in kisses.

A dark laugh left him as his fingers finally glided over your panties. "I've barley touch you and you're already so wet for me, pretty girl"

You whined and his hand slid beneath your panties and he began to rub your clit in slow circles

"We don't have much time, baby"  He whispered "someone could catch us any minute"

"I don't care" you moaned, head resting against the wall "as long as you keep doing that"

"Just this?" He smirked before you gasp as he slided two fingers into you. He knew what he was doing as you began to come undone.

"You look so pretty falling apart for me, baby" He teased.

Soon you were gasping, tightening around his fingers as your legs shook. You whined as he pulled away "Ready?"

"Fuck me, Rafe" you whispered, pulling him in for a kiss. He hesitated before you said "I'm on the pill"

Your eyes widened, seeing how big he actually was. Even feeling it briefly earlier didn't do him justice. You whimpered and whined as he kissed you cheeks, nose and forehead

"I know, baby, I know" He whispered "you can take it, pretty girl. I know you can take it"

He was so gentle until you asked for more. He was just the right amount of rough and soon you both climaxed. His head was buried in your chest while you played with his hair. You both desperately tried to catch your breaths.

You fixed your dress as he pulled away. You both stared at each for a moment before you spoke first.

"I should. I should probably go back inside" you turned to the door.

"Wait!"  He stopped you as he held the door shut. Here would be the part he made you swear to tell no one "Do you want to go on a date? We could hang out? Lunch or Dinner?"

You swallowed and nodded slowly before smiling "sure, I mean I would love too. I have tomorrow off"

The smile that forms on his face, melts your heart before he held the door open for you "I'll pick you up and we'll go to the main land"

There was the catch, you couldn't be seen together in Outerbanks but all the thoughts stopped when he kissed you quick again.

Once back inside, it was like nothing ever happened. Rafe went back to his friends but looked at you every so often as you continued to work. You were so thankful that the back area was walled off and there was no cameras but you were 90% sure Mags knew.

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

you get what you give | franco colapinto

💾 synopsis: It’s 1997, and you’re in your last year of high school, working at Hot Topic, living in a one-sided feud with the boyish, too-charming Gap employee across the hall. Then the universe decides to ruin your life by making him your coworker. tags: kind-of-enemies-to-lovers, teen drama, 90s aesthetic, fluff (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) | (around 3.7k words) | (nobody fact-check this, please, i was born in 2003, and i'm not american)

The first time you saw Franco, he was across the food court, leaning against the Gap counter like he was in a catalog. Some preppy kid with khakis that probably cost more than your entire paycheck, laughing at something a coworker said. Meanwhile, you were stuck behind the register at Hot Topic, trying to explain to a middle schooler that no, they couldn’t return their Metallica shirt just because their mom found it “too satanic.”

It wasn’t hate at first sight. Not exactly. It was more like… an allergy. Like every time you looked over at the Gap, there he was: Mr. Perfect Hair, smiling at customers like he actually liked them, folding sweaters like he loved his job. And every time he noticed you looking, he’d wave. Wave. Like you were best friends or something.

Alex, your coworker, thought it was hilarious. “Maybe he has a crush on you.”

“Or maybe he’s just annoying.”

“Both can be true.”

You ignored him, because whatever Franco’s deal was, you didn’t care. It’s not like Hot Topic and Gap were at war or anything, but they might as well have been. You sold fishnet tights and Slipknot hoodies. He sold pastel cardigans and golf hats. Oil and water. Cats and dogs. People who get the vibe and people who definitely don’t.

It became a thing, though. The waving. The smirking. The way he’d send clueless Gap customers to your store “because they seemed more… alternative.” You started sending preppy moms his way just to balance the universe.

But it all came to a head one Friday, right after you’d clocked in, when your manager pulled you into the back room.

“Got some news,” she said, all chipper like it wasn’t going to ruin your day.

“What?”

“We’re short-staffed, so I hired someone. He’s got retail experience, great attitude –”

And then, like the universe had it out for you, Franco walked in.

“Hey!” he said, all teeth and dimples, like this was some meet-cute and not a complete disaster.

You just stared.

It’s not every day your entire worldview gets flipped upside down, but here you are, staring at Franco in the Hot Topic break room like he’s some alien who crash-landed in the wrong parking lot. He’s got that same stupid perfect smile on his face, like this is totally normal. Like he belongs here. Spoiler: he absolutely does not.

“Hey,” he says, like it’s a regular Friday and not the start of your personal hell. “Guess we’re coworkers now.”

Coworkers.

Coworkers?!

You whip around to face your manager, who’s calmly flipping through a clipboard, completely oblivious to the emotional collapse happening two feet away.

“Is this a joke?” you ask, pointing at Franco. Like maybe someone’s about to jump out with a camera and yell: Gotcha!

“No joke,” your manager chirps. “Franco has retail experience, and he really impressed me in the interview.”

You look back at him. He’s still smiling. Why is he still smiling?

“You interviewed him?”

“Of course! We’re short-staffed, and Franco’s going to be a great addition to the team.”

You don’t even know where to start. The khakis. The tucked-in polo. The fact that he probably doesn’t know the difference between Nirvana and Nine Inch Nails. This guy is going to sell chokers?

“You’re kidding,” you mutter, but no one’s listening.

Franco finally speaks up, still with that ridiculous, infuriating charm.

“Don’t worry, I’ll fit right in. I mean, how hard can it be?”

Oh, he’ll fit right in, all right. About as well as a cat fits in a mosh pit.

It starts with the name tag.

Franco’s first obstacle as a Hot Topic employee isn’t even a customer – it’s the little plastic rectangle that refuses to clip onto his perfectly pressed shirt. After a solid minute of fumbling, he finally slaps it onto his chest, crooked, looking way too proud of himself for such a small win.

You, meanwhile, are trying to decide if it’s worth quitting your job just to avoid this nightmare.

“Maybe untuck your shirt,” you suggest, glaring at him. “You look like you’re about to sell Bibles.”

He looks down, confused. “But isn’t this the uniform?”

“No. The uniform is not looking like you have a trust fund.”

He untucks the shirt, but it doesn’t help much. He still stands out like a Gap model in a Halloween store.

And then the customers start rolling in.

The first one is easy: a kid looking for a Blink-182 tee. You grab it from the shelf, hand it over, and move on. Franco watches like he’s taking notes for a science experiment.

The second one? Not so easy.

It’s a girl with jet-black lipstick, multiple nose rings, and an attitude. She narrows her eyes at Franco, who’s manning the register for the first time.

“Do you have this in an extra small?” she asks, holding up a spiked belt.

Franco looks at the belt like it’s a snake. “Uh… let me check in the back?”

“There is no back,” you hiss from across the counter.

“Oh. Right. Um…” He flashes the customer his best smile. “We don’t have it in extra small, but maybe a small could work?”

The girl rolls her eyes so hard you’re worried they might get stuck. “Forget it,” she snaps, storming out.

Franco turns to you, bewildered. “Was it something I said?”

“It was everything you said.”

But it doesn’t stop there.

Later, he mispronounces Misfits as The Misfits. Then he spends five minutes explaining the return policy to a guy who clearly just wanted to buy a patch and leave. By the time someone asks him about gauges, he’s looking at you like he’s about to beg for help.

“Are you sure there’s no training manual?” he asks.

“This is the training,” you shoot back. “Sink or swim.”

But the thing is, he doesn’t sink. Not completely, anyway. Somehow, between the awkward stumbles and clueless questions, he manages to charm almost every customer. Even the goth kids seem to tolerate him, if only because he’s so obviously out of his depth.

And when your manager comes by to check on him, he’s suddenly the picture of professionalism, rattling off sales numbers like he’s been working there for years.

You glare at him as she leaves, impressed.

“What?” he says, grinning. “I’m a fast learner.”

You groan.

It’s halfway through Franco’s second shift when the universe decides to really test your patience. You’re at the register, ringing up a pair of fishnet gloves for a kid who can’t be older than twelve, when you hear the sound of trouble brewing near the band tees.

“Oh, my God,” someone laughs, loud and mean. “Do you even know who that is?”

You look up and see them: a group of older teens, all decked out in leather jackets and studded belts, surrounding Franco like a pack of hyenas. He’s holding up a Black Sabbath shirt, looking a little like a deer caught in headlights.

“Uh…” Franco starts, clearly scrambling. “Yeah, of course I do. It’s… uh… classic rock, right?”

The tallest guy in the group snorts. “Classic rock? Bro, this is Sabbath. Tell me you’re joking.”

You can see Franco’s face turn red from across the store. You should probably step in, but there’s a part of you that kind of wants to see him squirm. He’s always so confident, so perfect. It’s nice to see him stumble for once.

But then one of the girls pipes up, flipping her bright purple hair over her shoulder. “I don’t know why they even hired you. You don’t belong here.”

That hits a nerve. You shove the cash drawer closed and storm over before you can think twice.

“He belongs here more than you do,” you snap, stepping between Franco and the group. “Unless you’re planning on buying something, get out.”

The tall guy raises an eyebrow. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem is you harassing my coworker. Go be a jerk somewhere else.”

There’s a tense pause, but eventually, they back off, muttering insults as they leave the store.

When they’re gone, you turn to Franco. He’s staring at you like you just pulled him out of a burning building.

“Uh, thanks,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, well…” You shrug, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Can’t let them scare off the new guy.”

He grins, that same easy, infuriating grin. “So you don’t hate me?”

“Don’t push it.”

You turn to walk back to the register, but you can feel him watching you, and for the first time, it doesn’t feel annoying.

It’s after the dinner rush, which is mostly just bored teenagers roaming the mall with nothing better to do than browse graphic tees they can’t afford, when Franco starts humming. It’s faint at first, just a couple of notes, but it’s enough to get under your skin.

You lean over the counter, glaring at him while he pretends to be absorbed in folding a pile of shirts he definitely refolded twice already. “Are you seriously humming The Cure right now?”

He looks up, wide-eyed, like you caught him committing a crime. “Uh, maybe?”

“You’re kidding.”

“Why?” He shrugs, all innocent. “What’s wrong with The Cure?”

“Nothing.” You grab a stack of bandanas and toss them onto the shelf. “Just didn’t peg you as a fan.”

“Well, I’m full of surprises.” He grins, that boyish, can’t-you-just-love-me grin that’s probably charmed a hundred Gap moms into buying extra polos. It makes you want to throw a mannequin at him.

But then he says, “You know, my mom hated this kind of music. She used to blast Hanson in the car and call it ‘family bonding.’”

You freeze mid-fold, staring at him. “No. Not Hanson.”

“Yep.” He leans against the counter, totally unashamed. “Full-on MMMBop era. It was brutal.”

You snort before you can stop yourself. “That’s horrifying.”

“Tell me about it.” He shakes his head like he’s reliving some great tragedy. 

And now you’re laughing, actually laughing, and you hate how easy it feels. It’s not supposed to be easy with Franco. He’s supposed to be the enemy, the preppy intruder in your kingdom of chains and leather. 

The store quiets down again, the hum of fluorescent lights filling the silence between customers. You’re at the counter, sorting through returns, when Franco asks, “So, how long have you been working here?”

You don’t even look up. “Too long.”

“Like… since it opened?”

“Not that long.”

He chuckles. “You just seem like you’re good at it. Like, you know exactly where everything goes, how to deal with customers, all of it.”

You pause, caught off guard by the compliment. “Uh, thanks, I guess.”

“I’m serious.” He leans against the counter, closer than he needs to be. “It’s cool. You make it look easy.”

For a second, you don’t know what to say. You’re not used to this version of him – the one who’s not joking or smirking or trying to win people over.

“Well,” you mutter, focusing way too hard on a stray thread on your sleeve, “someone has to hold this place together.”

“Guess that makes you the boss, huh?”

You look up, and he’s smiling again, but it’s softer this time, less Gap-commercial and more… real.

“Yeah,” you say, meeting his eyes for a second longer than you mean to. “Guess it does.”

And just like that, you’re back to folding shirts, pretending your face isn’t warm, pretending you’re not replaying the way he said it in your head.

“Hey,” Franco says after a minute, breaking the silence. “Thanks for not letting me completely crash and burn today.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”

But he just laughs

A few days later, you’re mid-shift, reorganizing the clearance rack and silently judging whoever thought mixing Korn and Nirvana shirts was a good idea, when you hear Franco call your name.

“Hey!” He’s jogging over, holding a black eyeliner pencil in one hand and a spiked cuff in the other. “Okay, hear me out.”

You look up, already regretting your decision to give him the time of day. “What.”

“I was thinking.” He plops the cuff down on the counter like it’s Exhibit A in a trial. “Maybe I need a vibe adjustment. You know, to fit in better.”

You stare at him, waiting for the punchline. When it doesn’t come, you burst out laughing. “You? Adjust your vibe? You are the Gap vibe.”

“Exactly,” he says, unbothered by your mockery. “Which is why I need to commit if I’m going to survive here.”

You shake your head, going back to your rack. “You’re insane.”

“I’m serious!” He grabs your arm, dragging you toward the accessories wall. “Help me out here. What do I need? Eyeliner? A chain wallet? Should I dye my hair black? What screams ‘Hot Topic employee’ to you?”

You yank your arm back, glaring. “First of all, no one dyes their hair black on a whim. Second of all, even if you doused yourself in black nail polish and combat boots, you’d still look like a golden retriever.”

He blinks at you, confused. “A… golden retriever?”

“You know what I mean.” You gesture at him like he’s Exhibit A now. “You’re too happy. Too friendly. Even if you dressed the part, you’d still give off this, like, boy-next-door energy.”

“Wow.” He folds his arms, smirking. “Didn’t realize you’d been analyzing my vibe so much.”

You groan, shoving past him to grab a random shirt off the rack. “Fine. You want help? Put this on.”

He takes the shirt, holding it up with a frown. It’s oversized, black, and has some vaguely satanic-looking band logo on it. “This is… a lot.”

“Exactly.” You throw a studded belt at him for good measure. “Now go try it on.”

To your surprise, he doesn’t argue. He just shrugs and disappears into the fitting room, leaving you to wonder if you’ve actually broken him.

When he finally comes out, you almost choke. The shirt hangs loose over his frame, the belt is slung low around his waist, and he’s added the spiked cuff for good measure. He looks ridiculous.

“Well?” he says, holding his arms out like he’s presenting a masterpiece. “What do you think?”

You tilt your head, trying to suppress a laugh. “You look like a lost theater kid trying to go goth for Halloween.”

He grins, completely unoffended. “So… nailed it?”

“Sure.” You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “Except for the part where no one here is going to believe you’ve ever listened to anything darker than Matchbox Twenty.”

“Ouch.” He puts a hand over his heart, pretending to be wounded. “You’re brutal.”

“And you’re hopeless.”

But as he stands there, grinning like he’s actually proud of himself, you realize something weird. He looks kind of cute.

“Alright, fine,” you say, tossing a pack of black nail polish at him. “You want the full experience? You’re painting your nails next.”

He catches it easily, still smiling. “Whatever you say, boss.”

It’s the end of the night, and the mall feels like a ghost town. The food court’s shut down, the arcade’s lights are dimmed, and you’re counting down the minutes until you can lock up and go home. Franco’s behind the counter, you’re halfheartedly restocking chokers when he says, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

You look over your shoulder. He looks serious, which is rare for him. Too rare. “What? You need me to explain the difference between Slipknot and Korn again?”

“Ha-ha.” He leans on the counter, “I’m being serious.”

You roll your eyes but put down the chokers. “Fine. Ask away.”

There’s a pause. He’s tapping his fingers on the counter, like he’s working up the nerve. Finally, he says, “Why do you hate me so much?”

You blink at him, trying to figure out if this is some kind of joke, but his face is all earnest curiosity.

“I don’t –” You stop, because of course you do, or at least you did. But now? You’re not so sure.

He’s still looking at you, waiting, and for once, you don’t have a snarky comeback. You just shrug. “I don’t hate you.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he says, but there’s no edge to it. “When I first started here, you looked like you wanted to set me on fire.”

“Yeah, well, you kind of deserved it.”

He laughs, and the sound fills the empty store in a way that makes your chest feel weird. “Fair. But… why?”

You chew on your lip, debating whether or not to tell him the truth. But something about the way he’s looking at you – like he actually cares about your answer – makes you cave.

“Because you’re you.”

“Wow.” He raises an eyebrow. “Great explanation. Totally clears it up.”

You groan, leaning back against the wall. “Fine. Because you walked in here all… perfect. Perfect smile, perfect attitude, perfect everything. And this place? It’s not supposed to be perfect. It’s messy, and weird, and full of people who don’t fit in anywhere else. You showing up felt like…”

“Like I didn’t belong.”

“Yeah.” You exhale, relieved he said it so you didn’t have to. “Exactly.”

He’s quiet for a second, and you’re about to make a joke to fill the silence when he says, “You know, I’ve never felt like I belonged anywhere.”

That shuts you up.

“Not at Gap, not at school, not even at home half the time,” he continues, voice softer now. “But here? I don’t know. It’s different. And it’s not just because of the music or the clothes or whatever. It’s… you.”

Your heart skips, and you hate how easily he can do that to you. “Me?”

“Yeah.” He looks up, meeting your eyes, and suddenly it feels like there’s no space left in the room. “You make it feel like it’s okay to not be perfect. Like it’s okay to just… be.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Words are stuck somewhere in your throat, and all you can do is stare at him like he’s said something impossible.

“I probably sound like an idiot,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I mean it. And if I have to spend every shift here proving that I belong, I will. Because, honestly? This is the first place that I've ever felt comfortable in.”

Your chest feels tight, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he’s standing. Too close. Not close enough.

“Franco…” You’re not even sure what you’re about to say, but he cuts you off.

“I know. I’ll shut up now.” He steps back, flashing that same boyish grin that used to drive you insane. “Just thought you should know.”

And before you can respond, the store phone rings, breaking the moment.

You grab it, mumbling something about it probably being the mall office, but your hands are shaking as you pick up.

When you hang up, Franco’s already by the door, keys in hand, waiting to lock up. “Ready to call it a night?”

You nod, swallowing hard.

“Cool. See you tomorrow, boss.” He winks, pushing open the door and stepping out into the empty mall.

You watch him go, your heart still racing.

It’s been a few weeks since The Conversation. You and Franco have been in this weird limbo ever since – like you’re both too scared to bring it up again but also too aware of each other to act normal. He still grins at you like he knows a secret, and you still pretend it doesn’t make your heart race.

But tonight, something feels different. The shift was slow, the music quieter than usual, and now the two of you are the last ones left, locking up the store.

Franco leans against the gate, twirling the keys around his finger like he’s in a teen movie. “So,” he says, breaking the silence, “what’s your excuse for staying late tonight? Organizing the chokers by shade again?”

You shove the gate into place and glare at him, though there’s no real anger behind it. “What’s your excuse? Waiting for me to do all the work as usual?”

“Obviously.” He flashes that stupid grin, but this time there’s a bit of anxiety behind it.

You should brush it off, make some sarcastic comment and walk away, but instead, you lean against the counter and cross your arms. “You’ve been acting weird.”

“Me?” He feigns innocence, pointing at himself. “I’m not the one who’s been dodging eye contact for three weeks.”

“Yeah, because you’ve been staring at me like a creep,” you shoot back, but your voice is softer than you mean it to be.

He doesn’t deny it. Instead, he tilts his head, studying you in that way that makes you feel like you’re under a spotlight. “So… are we gonna talk about it?”

“About what?” You know exactly what he means, but you’re not making this easy for him.

“About this.” He gestures vaguely between the two of you. “Whatever this is.”

You shrug, trying to play it cool. “What’s there to talk about? You’re annoying, I tolerate you, the end.”

“Uh-huh.” He steps closer, his grin turning softer, almost shy. “And that’s why you blush every time I call you boss?”

“I do not blush.”

“You so do.”

You groan, turning to fiddle with the register just to give your hands something to do. “Why are you like this?”

“Because you like it.”

Your head snaps up, ready to argue, but suddenly you’re tired of pretending.

“Okay, fine,” you say, throwing up your hands. “Maybe I don’t hate you. Maybe I even… like you a little. Happy now?”

He blinks, like he wasn’t expecting you to actually admit it. “Wait, really?”

“Oh my god.” You bury your face in your hands. “Don’t make me say it again.”

He laughs, soft and disbelieving, and when you peek through your fingers, he’s standing right in front of you.

“For the record,” he says, voice quieter now, “I like you too. More than a little.”

Your heart does this stupid flip, and before you can chicken out, you grab the lanyard around his neck and pull him into a kiss. It’s quick, clumsy, and absolutely perfect.

“Wow,” he says, breathless. 

“Shut up.”

But you’re smiling, and so is he.

“Okay,” he says after a beat, grinning like an idiot. “But just so you know, I’m totally telling everyone you kissed me first.”

You groan, shoving him playfully. “Don’t push your luck.”

He laughs, grabbing your hand before you can pull away completely. “Too late."

[dashiell123]

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Broken Hearts Club || Part II

Pairing(s): Rafe Cameron x Reader, slight!JJ Maybank x Reader 

Summary: Rafe proves to be insatiable as you find it harder to ignore him. 

Word Count: 4.4k 

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, choking, cursing, minor verbal altercation, drinking

“Do you plan on explaining why I had to pick you up from Figure 8 when last I checked you were on your way home?”

Your head whips to where JJ is standing with his arms crossed, leaned against the bar of the Country Club as he awaits your answer. You brushed past JJ to take the money from your last customers to the register, shrugging as you tried to play it off while you formulated an answer.

It struck you that while you spent the morning wrapping your head around what happened last night, you didn’t even think of coming up with an excuse as to why you were on the other side of the island, at the ass crack of dawn, with just a shirt on. You knew you were stupid to call JJ this morning, but you were a downright idiot for thinking he wasn’t gonna question you about it afterwards.

“… I decided to go to the bar instead. Met a guy.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. Well, if you replace the bar with the beach and guy with the man you hate most in this world. You glance to gauge his reaction, seeing a frown on his face. Confusion came over once again, “… so you left drinking with us… to go to the bar? What happened to your mom ‘being on your ass about getting home’?” he finger quotes, the wrinkle between his eyebrows only growing deeper the more he questioned you.

You sighed, “I went home. She yelled. Passed out. I left and went to the bar.”

“… and went home with a guy.”

“Yes.” 

“… A guy who lives in Figure 8.”

“Yes.”

“Who was too much of an asshole to drive you home the next morning?” he scoffed, “Way to pick ‘em.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” you mumble before you can stop yourself. He opens his mouth to rebuttal, but you’ve already walked to your section to check on your customers. After making your rounds, you walk back to where JJ was leaning against the register, still looking at you except now with this unreadable expression.

“So do I know this asshole?”

I rolled my eyes, “JJ.”

For a second, you almost think he sounds jealous. You can’t remember any time he’s questioned John B or Pope’s whereabouts, and you can’t help feel a little hopeful that this hookup sparked any reaction from the blonde. 

He raised his hands, “I’m just asking. As your friend I’m allowed to be a little curious about your.. endeavors.”

“Oh, is that the word of the day?” You smiled sarcastically, him wrinkling his nose back at you and pulling at the curl in front of your face. You swipe at his hand, hip bumping him away from the register and pointing to the other side of the bar, “Customer, Sherlock.”

He glances back, before returning his gaze to you and glaring playfully, “I have more questions, ma’am, so I hope you don’t plan on leaving this club anytime soon.”

“Please go,” You laughed at his corniness, shaking my head and he went to the other side of the bar. The bell of the door rang as the next set of customers made their way in, you not really paying attention other than that it’s a table for three. Knowing your section is the only free one, you focus on grabbing a tray and three sets of napkins and utensils for the table. As you’re wrapping the utensils in the cloth, you can’t shake the feeling that someone’s watching you. At first you think it’s JJ, so you turn your head to the side only to see him fully focused on making a drink.

When turning your head forward, you jump slightly at the sight of Rafe standing directly across from you at the bar. He’s wearing his regular, a blue polo with khakis, a golf glove adoring his hand. He sets both his elbows on the bar, leaning forward, “I guess I have the pleasure of being serviced by you twice in less than twenty-four hours.”  

Your eyes narrowed at him as you looked at him in disgust, “Don’t make me punch you in front of all these people.”  

“Now, is that any way to treat a paying customer? Have you already forgotten your manners from last night?” You hate the smug look on his face, but can’t help but blush as the flashes of last night came through your mind like a movie, the dominance he had over you and your willingness to do as he asked just for a simple promise of release-

No.  

You ignore him, walking over to where the rest of the Death Squad is sitting. You stop at the table, feeling the presence of Rafe right behind you as he slid to get to his own seat, his hands resting on your waist as he got by. You rolled your eyes at the unnecessary move, looking to Kelce and Topper to find both sets of eyes on you. Normally, they’re looking down at the menu as if they haven’t been here enough to know exactly what’s on it, ignoring your complete existence as if you were nothing more than someone a bug they can’t swat away until they need to order something rudely. 

This time though, they’re both looking at you with the same curious expression, and it makes you angrier than it did when they simply ignored you. At least when they ignored you, you knew why. Now, you can only imagine why the hell they were looking at you like a zoo animal. A part of you doubts that Rafe would say anything to his friends about last night, he would rather confess to murder than admit he fucked what he considered a low class citizen. Maybe they just saw the way he grabbed you to get by and that peaked their interest. Yeah, we’re gonna go with that.  

“What can I get you guys to start off with?” You ask, pulling out your notepad and pen.

Fortunately, they spend the rest of their time being as cordial as they know how. You avoid Rafe’s gaze through the rest of your shift, only glancing at him when Topper or Kelce caught his attention. In the outside world, nothing’s changed between you two, but you can’t shake the feeling that the man sitting in your section had been inside you just the night before, and you don’t know how you feel about that sentiment enough to even begin to unpack what that means.

One one hand, it was a stupid drunken mistake that you would do anything to forget. On the other hand, last night was the first night you can remember where JJ wasn’t at the forefront of your mind. When you were kissing Rafe, you weren’t thinking about the unrequited feelings you had for the pogue. When you were fucking Rafe, you weren’t thinking much of anything. He did more for you in one night than months of drinking has in terms of just being able to offer a distraction.

None of that changes that Rafe is still Rafe. He’s the same pompous dick that on more than one occasion has made you cry out of pure anger. Only now, he’s made you cry for the exact opposite reason. Your eyes drift from Rafe to JJ, and you make your mind up instantly. Even if nothing were to happen with JJ, you can’t betray him even more than you already have. You slept with someone who’s hit him on numerous occasions, littering his skin with blood and bruises. You’ve cleaned up after the fights he’s started, and you know JJ would never forgive you if he finds out what happened last night.

So you decide then and there that from now, you’ll do everything in your power to stay the hell away from Rafe Cameron.

-- 

The party was in full swing when you and the rest walked in, taking in your surroundings. Sarah mentioned a party over on kookland she heard from an old friend, Scarlet, and convinced us all to go with the promise of free drinks. JJ was the loudest in saying no, but we all felt the same way about showing up to a party full of these rich assholes. But, you dangle free drinks in our face and it doesn’t take much convincing after that.

As we walk in, I feel JJ’s arm go around my shoulder, him leaning in to me and saying, “Stay close, alright? I don’t trust these assholes as far as I can throw them.”

You force yourself to not overthink, knowing this is just how he is. You’ve learned a long time ago not to read into the little things he does, even the small flirting moments because in the end, they don’t mean the same to him as they did to you. This is proven when he leans over to say the same to the rest of the group, his arm slipping from your shoulder as he leans into Kiara, asking if she’s alright. 

She smiles at him and nods, their eyes lingering for a second too long. 

You take the time to scan the party, taking note of the game of beer pong in the kitchen, the endless amount of drinks and dancing bodies littering the house and the dirty looks sent your way by the few who noticed your arrival.

“Let’s play beer pong,” You say to no one in particular, already making your way to the table. You hear JJ curse and follow after you as he tells the rest to meet up within a couple of hours and call if needed.

“What happened to stay close?” he asked, and you gave him a pointed look, “I’m just as close to you as I was when you first told me. Besides, the table was free and I didn’t want to miss our chance.”

He took your answer, clapping his hands to catch the attention of the guys who just finished their game. He challenges them to a game, and when they decline he turns around, “Okay, who’s not a pussy and wants to lose some beer pong?”

Hands clasped on JJ’s shoulders, roughly shaking him, “Very bold of you to make a scene at a party you don’t belong at, Pogue.”

Shaking Rafe off, JJ clenches his fist as he turns to face the taller man. His chest puffs up, both men trying to display some stupid amount of testosterone. You sigh, grabbing JJ’s arm and pulling him back, “We’re here to have fun, J, just ignore him.”

The older guy takes the moment to turn his eyes to you, scanning you so quickly you would’ve missed it if you blinked. He smirks, “Fancy seeing you here.”

You avert your eyes, not wanting to acknowledge the man any more than you have to. It’s been a week since the Country Club, a week since you’ve slept blonde. You’ve done a good enough job at ignoring him if you don’t count having to serve him after his blatant requests to sit in your section. If he’s with his friends, he’d order normally but would look at you as if he was wishing you were on the menu. He did show up once alone, though, when you were working the bar.

“Go away,” you immediately greet him with a glare. All week he’s been coming in here and at this point you’re annoyed. He refuses to be seated in any other section, and now he’s sitting here with this arrogant look on his face. He makes himself comfortable, leaning forward on the island and flashing a smile.

“I’ll take a Jack and Coke,” he bows his head, catching my eye, “Please.”

You walk over to behind the bar, grabbing a sign and walking back over to the bar before placing it on there for him to see. Under Federal Law, we observe the right to refuse service to customers.

It’s his turn to glare at you, “Ha. Ha. Jack and Coke.”

You roll your eyes, but nevertheless begin making his drink. You place it on the counter and he picks it up, taking a sip. His eyes remain on yours over the rim of the glass, and you break eye contact, taking a quick breath to shake off the annoying heat starting to build up on your face, “Anything else I can get you?”

“I would really appreciate a text back,” he instantly replied. I point my eyes at him, “Something on the menu, Rafe.”

“Okay, I’ll have another sex on the beach,” Your mouth drops open, him laughing at your reaction and smiling arrogantly. His eyes are sparking in mischief, and you want to throw the drink you made him in his face. You get over your shock, and your lips going in a straight line as you lean forward.

“Let’s make one thing clear,” you look him in the eyes, refusing to break the contact even when he leans closer to you, “What happened at the beach, is never gonna happen again. So cherish that memory for as long as you can, because that’s all you’re ever gonna get.”

“Hey.” JJ blocks Rafe’s access to you, pushing him back roughly, “Don’t look at her. I’m right here.”

“Guys! This is a party, can we act like it?” Sarah saves the day, walking over and glaring at her brother before smiling warningly at you guys. You knew what she was saying without words. We’re outnumbered here, we need to play nice if we don’t want this night to end in a brawl not even ten minutes after we arrived.

“How about we play some pong? You win, I’ll leave you guys to have your fun and enjoy the endless supply of alcohol. We win… Well, let’s leave that a surprise.” Rafe offers. In his mind, there’s no way he’s about to lose so he doesn’t think twice of offering them a chance to stay. He’s like a cat playing with his food.

“Fine. John B-!” JJ begins to call, Rafe quickly tsking and shaking his head, wiggling his pointing finger back and forth before pointing at you.

“She plays.”

“Look, asshole-” JJ starts, and I grab his arm before facing him towards me, glaring at him, “I wanted to play anyway. It was my idea, remember?”

“Yeah, that was before he decided to join and bargain.” he spits out in disgust at the kook, and you sigh before placing both hands lightly on his shoulder, “I’ll be fine. Relax.”

Normally his protectiveness would make your heart skip, but you’re already slightly annoyed at him undressing Kiara with his eyes since before you even arrived and just having to check on her wellbeing within two minutes of being at the party. You know you’re slightly being petty, but at this point you don’t care. 

“Are you two lovebirds done, or should we go ahead and call this a forfeit so you guys can get back to the Cut?”

JJ whips around, the insult ready at the tip of his tongue before I quickly cut him off, “Just set the game up.”

The older guy just smugly looks at me, “Yes ma’am.” He moves to the table, replacing the cups and pouring the liquor into each one.

-- 

It takes you ten minutes to convince JJ you can make it to the bathroom on your own. You’re not too off your ass for that to be a concern, but he’s been hovering over you since the pong game. It was hard to convince JJ that Rafe was just being an asshole with his comments, and that he obviously had no interest in you considering his obvious distaste of your status.

During the game, Rafe continuously did everything to get under your and JJ’s skin. It was obvious he was trying to start a fight to take away from the fact that he was losing, not expecting people he thought so little of to beat him in anything. Little did he know JJ and I play this on a random Monday cause we’re bored and want to get wasted. Even when he or his partner did make a shot, the liquor in our systems only added to our skills. When we won the game, JJ gloated loudly about beating the kook prince, feeling like the fucking man.

You giggled at his antics, catching Rafe’s eye as he went from frustrated to smug within two seconds, replying to the blonde, “Thank your partner. Gotta say, I like a girl who can play some pong and looks good while doing it.”

The smile dropped from JJ’s face, and he moved towards the kook only to be stopped by you grabbing his arms, “Hey, let’s go over there,” pointing to a random part of the house and redirecting him to it. You quickly grab him a beer, watching him down it.

“He says shit just to get under your skin. And even if he did mean it, it’s fucking Rafe. Who cares?” you lightly punch his shoulder, smiling at him and pouting when he looks at you blankly. Using both of your pointer fingers, you place them on either side of his mouth before pulling up, “Come on, turn that frown upside down.”

He slaps your hands away playfully, and you know you’ve eased him when he smiles at you and says, “Fuck it, let’s get drunk.”

Three shots later, you get the inevitable feeling that you need to have your first tipsy pee of the night, removing yourself from your group of friends to walk up the stairs. You slightly stumble down the hall, gripping the wall and giving yourself a second before making your way to the end of the hall. You open three doors before finally opening one to a bathroom.  

After using it and washing your hands, you stumble out of the bathroom right into a hard chest. Hands grip your waist, holding you from falling back. You open your mouth to thank the stranger, but quickly swallow it back down at the sight of Rafe looking down at you. You’re all too aware that his hands are still on your waist, and you push at his chest to move him back. He doesn’t move an inch, and you try not to let that go straight to your core.

“You gonna keep standing here like a creep or let me through?”  

“Worried your boyfriend’s gonna send out a watch party if you take too long?” he retorts, walking forward, forcing your own feet to step back. You narrow your eyes at him, trying to go around him only for him to step in your way as he continues to walk forward. When he makes it in far enough to close the bathroom door, he uses the grip on your waist to move you towards the sink, pressing you into it.

“Rafe,” you sighed out of frustration, using more force to push at him. His hands quickly grab your wrists, placing them both on either side of you on the counter, leaning down until his lips are brushing against yours, “Are you sure you wanna leave?”

“Yes,” you whisper, but can’t help your glance at his lips before bringing your eyes back to meet his. He cocks his head lightly to the side, placing a kiss at the side of your mouth. His kisses move in a line on your cheek, letting go of one of your hands to push your hair behind your ear so he has more room, placing a kiss behind your ear. Loose curls fall back to their former place, but he doesn't let that deter him as he whispers, “You sure about that?”

Kissing back to your mouth, he pulls away and stands straight, letting go of you fully. He steps back, nodding his head towards the door. But that’s all he does, looking at you with an almost predatory gaze as he leans against the wall adjacent to you. He’s silently daring you to leave, and his arrogance would be enough to make you barf if he wasn’t so fucking hot, and before you can think about your next move you reach over to lock the door.

You don’t know what you were thinking. You just told yourself a week ago that this would never happen again, and yet the anticipation is already building inside of you. You can blame the alcohol in your system, but you’re not nearly as drunk as you were the first time you had sex. Despite your silent promise, you haven’t been able to get that night from your head. He made you feel so good, and it was just an escape, so what’s the harm, right?

Walking to his figure on the wall, you raise on your tippy toes at the same time he leans down to crash his lips to yours. His hand comes up to wrap around your throat, switching your positions so you’re now pressed against the wall. His left knee moves between your legs, forcing them apart as he pushes up against your core, your dress sliding up at the movements. The kiss is a repeat of the first night, his mouth moving hotly against yours as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth.

The feelings of your tongues dancing together and his hand on your throat was enough to make you whimper, and his hand tightened their hold, pushing your head back to the wall as he pulled back, “Get on your knees.”

About to drop to your knees without a second thought, you take a second to think about the last time you guys were in this position. Rafe held the same amount of dominance he held now, and you refused to let the kook have the upper hand twice in a row without having to work for it even a little bit. He’s proven to let that get to his big ass head. 

Taking a step back, he gives you more room on the wall. You lift up to place kisses on his neck, finding the spot that makes his head throw back lightly as he fights down a groan. Annoyed at his stubbornness and wanting to hear him, you press your hand against the growing bulge in his pants, and he rewards you with a light moan.

This pushes you to rub against him even more, unbuckling his pants and pulling down his boxers to pull out his thick erection, using two hands to rub up and down as he groans, leaning down to catch your lips again. The kiss is messy, you being too focused on your hand movements and him being too distracted by them.

“Get.” Kiss. “On.” Kiss. “Your knees.”

You smile into the kiss, following his command this time and getting down on both your knees with the help of his hand that’s still wrapped in your hair, pulling his pants down further. His length slaps against your face, and you run your tongue lightly on the vein on the underside of his cock, leading all the way to the tip before slightly sucking on it. You repeat the same cycle a few times, Rafe growing frustrated and using his grip on your hair to pull you back, glaring down at you, “Stop fucking teasing.”

“Ask nicely,” you kiss around his cock, not breaking eye contact even when he throws you a look that can kill you right there. His lips press together in defiance, and you shrug before leaning back.

“Fuck- fine. Please put my cock in your mouth.” He rolls his eyes before his jaw goes slack at the sensation of your lips wrapping around him as you get used to the feeling of him in your mouth. You move halfway down his cock before bobbing her head up and down, not going any further than the halfway point. He allows it for a second, relishing in the feeling of your warm mouth before losing his patience.

“Am I gonna have to shove my cock down your throat?” he growls, and you pull off, kissing the tip once more before replying.

“You can…” you slap his cock against your tongue, making him groan, “..but will you?”

Tightening his hold on you, he answers you by forcing his cock down your throat. You lightly gag, but he holds you at the base, “Hold it. Relax your throat.” You do as he says, and the groan he lets out makes your pussy drip, “Just like that, fuck.”

Pulling you off his cock, he gives you a second to breathe before forcing him down once again. He repeats this process a few more times to get your throat used to the intrusion, before hands grip either side of your face, slamming his cock down your throat. You feel your head start to tap against the wall in time with his rough movements, and your soaked pussy begins to drip arousal down your legs.

You feel him getting closer, so you slap his hands away and hold onto both of his thighs, deepthroating him and holding your head there. He groans loudly, suddenly grabbing your arms and pulling you up, kissing you within an inch of your life.

His hands come down to your ass, gripping the flesh before pulling your underwear down, you helping him finish taking them off and throwing them to the side carelessly. He returns his grip to your thighs, lifting you until you wrap your legs around his waist, pressing you against the wall roughly. He grips his cock, sliding it up and down your folds and lightly dipping it in, “Ask nicely.”

You gasp against his mouth, “Asshole. Put it in.”

“That’s not so nice, baby.” he returns, dipping himself a little further before pulling out again, rubbing himself against you. You dig your nails into his shoulder, making him hiss against your lips, before giving in and whimpering, “Please.”

“That’s my girl.” he praises, sliding himself in fully and giving you a moment to adjust. The alcohol in your system only added to the experience, the feeling of him being almost too much to handle. It isn't until he reminds you to breathe that you realize you haven’t been, letting out the breath and relaxing against him as he begins to move inside you.

Lewd noises leave the both of you, him pressing his face against your neck as he breathes, “You’re so fucking good. You feel so fucking good.”

He slams into you harder, and you moan loudly, pressing your hand against your mouth to keep you quiet. He notices, and replaces your hand with his own as he brings his face to yours, the eye contact not breaking as he drives his cock further into you. The rhythm of him pounding into you becomes too much, and your walls tighten as come around him, your legs shaking at your strong release.

He groans, his breath fanning your face as he removes his hand from your mouth and placing it on your thigh. He halts his movements, grabbing both of your thighs to spread your legs until they’re pressed against the wall, holding you there as he pounds into you even harder. You moan loudly, and he kisses you to silence your sounds.

It doesn’t take long for that familiar pressure to build up again inside you, the coil in your stomach just begging to release itself. As you tighten, he bites your lip and tugs on it, “Don’t come until I tell you.”

You whimper pathetically, bucking your hips to drive him deeper into you as if that was even possible. He hits a spot inside that makes your eyes roll, and you move faster against him as he praises you, “Just like that baby. Keep moving- I’m gonna come.” 

Getting your second wind, you continue to meet his sloppy thrusts, and it's his turn to moan loudly as he looks at you, “Come with me. Come now.”

Relishing in his permission, you throw your head back against the wall as you bask in the waves of pleasure that shoot through you. This release was even stronger than the last, and you feel yourself making a mess around him as he pumps his seed into you, holding himself inside until his climax subsided. His head drops to your shoulder as you both catch your breath, both of your chests rising with each other. 

He lightly puts you down, holding there until you get your footing. He pulls his pants up silently, buckling them before leaning down to grab your panties from the floor. You hold your hand out to take them, but he slaps it away as he pushes the fabric into his pocket.

Before you can protest, he grabs your throat for the second time that night and pulls you to him, kissing you roughly. It’s over before it starts, him pushing you off and scanning you once more before turning and unlocking the door, leaving you in the bathroom with nothing but your thoughts.

Fuck.

[ariserclothing]

The Ultimate Guide to Ariser Cotton Golf Polo T Shirts for Men

When it comes to stylish and versatile clothing, Golf Polo Cherry Red T shirts for Men stand out as a timeless choice. Perfect for a wide range of occasions, these T-shirts combine comfort, sophistication, and functionality. At Ariser, we take pride in our high-quality Polo T shirts designed to elevate your wardrobe and provide unmatched comfort during both casual and semi-formal outings.

Why Choose Polo T Shirts for Men?

Polo T shirts for Men are the epitome of classic fashion. Whether you’re heading to a golf course, a casual dinner, or just running errands, these T-shirts provide the perfect blend of style and practicality. The structured collar and buttoned neckline create a polished look that transitions seamlessly between laid-back and refined attire.

Our Polo T shirts are crafted with premium materials like breathable cotton, ensuring all-day comfort. Their moisture-wicking properties make them an excellent choice for active lifestyles, especially during outdoor activities such as golfing.

Features of Ariser Cotton Golf Polo T Shirts

Premium Cotton Material Our Polo T shirts for Men are made from high-quality cotton fabric, offering exceptional comfort and breathability. The lightweight material ensures you stay cool and fresh, even on warm days.

Tailored Fit for All Body Types Ariser’s Polo T shirts are designed with a tailored fit to suit different body types. Whether you prefer a slim or regular fit, our collection has something for everyone.

Stylish Design With a range of classic and modern colours, our Polo T shirts for Men add a touch of elegance to any outfit. The clean-cut design makes them suitable for both casual wear and formal gatherings.

Durability and Easy Maintenance These Polo T shirts are built to last. Their durable stitching and fade-resistant fabric ensure they maintain their quality after multiple washes.

Golf-Ready Features Perfectly suited for the golf course, our Polo T shirts for Men provide ease of movement, thanks to their stretchable fabric. Their sweat-wicking properties help you stay comfortable while focusing on your game.

Styling Tips for Polo T Shirts for Men

One of the best things about Polo T shirts is their versatility. Here are some tips to style your Ariser Cotton Golf Polo T Shirts:

Casual Look: Pair your Polo T shirts for Men with denim jeans or shorts and sneakers for a relaxed yet put-together outfit.

Golf Outfit: Combine a neutral-toned Polo T shirt with tailored chinos and golf shoes for an ideal on-course look.

Semi-Formal Attire: Wear a dark coloured Polo T shirt for Men with a blazer and trousers to create a refined yet comfortable ensemble.

Benefits of Investing in Ariser Cotton Polo T Shirts

Comfort and Functionality Our Polo T shirts for Men are designed to keep you comfortable throughout the day, whether you’re playing sports or attending a social event.

Timeless Appeal The classic design of Polo T shirts ensures they never go out of style. Investing in a few high-quality pieces allows you to create multiple outfits that remain fashionable year after year.

Great for All Seasons Cotton Polo T shirts for Men are versatile enough to be worn in any season. They provide warmth in cooler months when layered under jackets and keep you cool during summer.

Value for Money Durable and stylish, our Polo T shirts offer great value by combining premium quality with affordable prices.

Why Ariser Stands Out

At Ariser, we are committed to delivering excellence. Our Polo T shirts for Men are a testament to our dedication to quality and customer satisfaction. Each product undergoes rigorous quality checks to ensure it meets the highest standards.

Additionally, we understand the importance of sustainability. That’s why our Polo T shirts are made from eco-friendly materials, ensuring minimal environmental impact.

How to Care for Your Polo T Shirts for Men

To maintain the quality and longevity of your Ariser Cotton Golf Polo T shirts, follow these simple care tips:

Wash them in cold water to prevent shrinkage.

Avoid using harsh detergents or bleach.

Air dry whenever possible to preserve the fabric’s integrity.

Store them neatly folded or on hangers to maintain their shape.

Where to Buy Ariser Cotton Golf Polo T Shirts for Men

You can find the finest selection of Polo T shirts for Men on our official website. Browse our collection and choose from various colours and sizes to suit your preferences.

With secure payment options and quick delivery, shopping with us is hassle-free. Plus, our dedicated customer service team is always ready to assist you with any queries.

Conclusion

Polo T shirts for Men are more than just a wardrobe staple — they are a statement of style and comfort. Ariser Cotton Golf Polo T shirts offer a perfect combination of quality, functionality, and timeless design.

Whether you’re dressing for a casual day out, hitting the golf course, or attending a semi-formal event, our Polo T shirts for Men are your go-to choice. Explore our collection today and experience the Ariser difference!

Visit us for more options: Polo T shirts

[aim4birdiesltd]

Women's Golf Apparel: Best Deals and Stylish Picks for Every Golfer

Golf is more than just a sport; it’s a lifestyle. And for women golfers, having the right women's golf apparel is crucial for both performance and confidence on the course. Womens golf apparel combines style, functionality, and comfort to ensure an enjoyable experience while improving your game. From breathable shirts to durable golf shoes, there’s a perfect match for every golfer.

Why Quality Women’s Golf Apparel Matters

The right golf outfit isn’t just about looking good. It’s about feeling comfortable and moving freely while playing. Women’s golf apparel is designed with features like moisture-wicking fabric, flexibility, and stylish designs that meet the needs of modern female golfers.

Key benefits include:

Comfort: Apparel crafted to keep you cool and dry throughout the game.

Performance: Stretchy and breathable materials that enable a full range of motion.

Style: Trendy designs that transition seamlessly from the course to casual outings.

Must-Have Women’s Golf Apparel Pieces

Building your golf wardrobe? Start with these essentials:

Polo Shirt A classic staple. Women’s golf polo shirts offer breathable fabric and a professional look. Opt for moisture-wicking materials to stay cool.

Golf Pants and Skorts Choose trousers or skorts with stretchy waistbands for unrestricted movement. Look for wrinkle-resistant fabrics for low-maintenance care.

Golf Jackets and Sweaters Keep warm on cooler days with lightweight jackets or sweater. Options like Galvin Green jacket provide both style and weather protection.

Golf Shoes Comfort is key. Women’s golf shoes with waterproof designs and excellent grip enhance stability during swings.

Accessories Don’t forget gloves for better grip, hats for sun protection, and socks for added comfort.

Stylish Picks for the Fashion-Forward Golfer

For women golfers who want to make a statement, fashion meets function in these trends:

Skorts and Dresses Combining femininity and performance, golf dresses and skorts are popular choices. They allow freedom of movement while keeping you stylish.

Bold Patterns and Colors Experiment with bright colors, floral prints, or geometric patterns. Add personality to your outfit while staying within dress code guidelines.

Layering with Vest and Jackets Layering is practical and chic. A lightweight vest or jacket can add flair while keeping you warm.

Top Brands for Women’s Golf Apparel

Investing in quality brands ensures durability and style. Here are some trusted names in women’s golf fashion:

Adidas: Known for its athletic designs and modern aesthetics.

Daily Sport: Offers chic, feminine apparel perfect for fashion-forward golfers.

Galvin Green: A leader in high-performance outerwear for unpredictable weather.

Nike Golf: Combines sleek designs with advanced sportswear technology.

Tips for Buying Women’s Golf Apparel Online

Shopping online for golf clothing has never been easier. Here’s how to ensure you get the best value:

Read Reviews: Customer feedback helps you gauge the fit and quality of items.

Check Sizing Guides: Golf apparel sizes can vary by brand. Always check the measurements.

Look for Sales: Websites often offer discounts on women’s golf apparel during seasonal sales.

How to Care for Your Golf Apparel

Maintaining your golf clothes extends their lifespan and keeps them looking fresh:

Wash them in cold water to prevent fading.

Avoid using harsh detergents on moisture-wicking fabrics.

Store items like polo shirts and trousers on hangers to avoid wrinkles.

Accessories to Elevate Your Golf Game

Your golf outfit isn’t complete without the right accessories. Elevate your game with:

Golf Gloves: Better grip and hand protection.

Golf Bags: Stylish options for carrying your clubs with ease.

Hats and Visors: Protection from the sun without compromising style.

FAQ on Women’s Golf Apparel

What should I look for in women’s golf shirts? Look for breathable fabrics and a comfortable fit with moisture-wicking properties.

Are skorts better than pants for golf? Skorts offer a stylish and practical alternative, especially in warmer climates.

Which brands are best for women's golf shoes? Adidas, Nike, and Puma offer durable, stylish options with excellent traction.

How can I make my golf outfit more fashionable? Incorporate bold colors, trendy skorts, or accessories like visors and gloves.

Do I need waterproof clothing for golf? Yes, waterproof jackets and shoes are ideal for playing in unpredictable weather.

Final Thoughts

Women’s golf apparel has evolved to meet the demands of modern golfers. Whether you’re a seasoned player or a beginner, finding the right combination of style, comfort, and performance is key. From breathable shirts to stylish skorts and accessories, the options are endless.

Dress the part, play your best, and enjoy every moment on the course. Let your outfit reflect your personality and passion for the game.

[customgoldpoloshirts]

Look Sharp & Feel Confident with Custom Golf Polo Shirts

Don’t waste your time looking for normal shirts as you can shop for the trendy Custom Golf Polos shirts that look really amazing. These are affordable yet exclusive as you get complete comfort and style in the same outfit! Buy now!

[cliftonclothing]

Do you play a lot of golf and want to get an edge on the course? Our Pilsen Performance Custom Golf Polo Shirt is the only option.

Made to order in a lightweight, breathable fabric, our Pantone-matched printing delivers vibrant colors that will never fade, and you can customize your look with a variety of collars, designs, patterns, and logos (or individual names and numbers). This versatile golf shirt is ideal for all occasions, from the course to the clubhouse. This golf polo's DriFit technology fabric also makes it suitable for wear throughout the year!

We at CLIFTON offer a variety of sizes for men, women, and children because we want everyone to have their own unique sense of style while golfing. You can rest assured that your custo golf shirts will be one of a kind, whether you order them for yourself or for a team of golfers!

With our Pilsen Performance Custom Golf Polos, you can therefore up your style and get ready to hit the golf course in style. Get designing right away!

Personalised Golf Top Custom Golf Polo Shirts

[marketing2011]

Buy Stylish Men's Golf T-Shirts | 3BELOW

Elevate your golf game with our collection of men's golf t-shirts. Designed for style and performance, our premium range ensures you look and feel your best on the course.

[theteeprints]

50 Creative Team Names for Custom Golf Polos

Elevate your golf team's swagger with custom polo names! Uncover 50 creative suggestions to make your squad stand out on the tee.

[dashiell123]

Bulk Polo Shirts Quality and Affordability Price

Finding the perfect balance between quality and cost, affordable wholesale polo shirts should be your aim. Buying in bulk saves time and money, whether for personal use or corporate and event applications. This guide shows you several types of polo shirts, their uses, and the reason they are worth your investment. Let's explore how to enjoy premium quality at cost-friendly prices.

Why Choose Wholesale Polo Shirts?

Unbeatable Value Would Come from the Purchase of Wholesale Polo Shirts. The needs of any person can be well met using these shirts. The needs are like style, comfort, and affordability. They can be purchased either for casual or professional uses. The wholesale polo shirts are used for various purposes, such as advertising giveaways and t-shirts for uniforms, all at an economical cost without sacrificing quality. Furthermore, large buying has opened up the possibility of a range of styles, fits, and materials to suit any purpose.

Golf Polo Shirts Perfect for the Light Wear

Heritage fashion is a manifestation of that hard combination—function and style. These were constructed from well-breathable fabric that is absolutely perfect, suiting for long hours of being outdoors or very much alive. Cute but definitely looking professional, it's not very hard to see why poles have gained a lot of popularity among golfers as well as commoners alike. Just perfect for your tournaments, club events, or rather lazy days around the golf course.

Long Sleeve Polo Shirts are Ideal for All Seasons Long-sleeve

Polo shirts are considered the essential wardrobe piece in the cooler months or for formal occasions. They are all about providing that little extra coverage while still being sharp and polished. Many of them have moisture-wicking or warming features, so it's comfortable inside or out any time of the year. Just as its name suggests, it really can be a very versatile shirt that can fit from casual to semi-formal settings without having to change and make lunch.

Organic Polo Shirts for Sustainability Meets Style

Polo shirts have organic fabrics, which are the best option for eco-conscious customers since they have organic cotton or bamboo blends and come with less environmental impact while providing soft, durable fabrics. They would fit an individual or an organization that is into being sustainable at its very core. Organic polos, in addition, prove that eco-friendliness and style can go hand in hand with performance.

Performance Polo Shirts : Built for Action

While it showcases what all active lifestyles are, performance polo shirts make their point true in reality. High-tech moisture-wicking materials and stretchy fabrics of performance polo shirts keep you cool and dry—even during the most strenuous activities. This is also a great choice for a sports team, corporate retreat, or an outdoor worker's uniform. The polo shirt provides comfort and durability. What's even better is that the polo is also wrinkle-resistant and quick-drying making it an easy choice when times get rough.

Short Sleeve Polo Shirts for Classic Everyday Wear

A classic pick for both casual and professional use, a short-sleeve polo shirt means breathability and ease of movement through a clean, simple look. The short-sleeve polo is quite easy to fit into your wardrobe as it comes in various fits and colors. These are best for a team uniform, summer events, or any casual outing.

Silk Polo Shirts for Luxury at Its Best

For those who want sophistication, silk polo shirts are unmatched in elegance. These shirts provide a smooth texture and luxurious feel for formal occasions or upscale events. With a premium look, silk polos are available at competitive wholesale prices. They have timeless appeal and are a great way to elevate your style effortlessly.

Why Wholesale Polo Shirts Area Smart Choice

Buying wholesale polo shirts is economical; the wholesale price can start with only $7.42 and go as high as $38, making a mass purchase cost-effective, thus ensuring a sufficient quantity of high-quality shirts at any given time. Whether you need casual polos for daily wear or luxury silk options for special events, wholesale shopping gives you the flexibility to choose.

From breathable golf polos to richly silk designs, there's sure to be something for everyone within this extensive variety of wholesale polo shirts collection. Polos are the greatest item to place a business's logo or branding on so that they become an excellent tool for team uniforms or giveaway promotions.

Conclusion

All in all, investing in wholesale polo shirts is a practical and economic decision for individuals, businesses, and organizations. Varieties of options ensure finding the perfect fit for what you need, whether it be golf polos for your team, organic options for sustainability, or performance shirts for active lifestyles. Enjoy premium quality without breaking the bank with competitive pricing as low as $7.42.

No matter the occasion or the purpose, wholesale polo shirts merge affordability with versatility. Make the smart choice today and discover the wide range of options available. With bulk purchases, you save more while securing high-quality shirts that meet your expectations.

[tbegolfball]

Hot Sell Men Cotton Polo Collar Golf Shirts