#Golf Shoe Bag for Ladies
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i actually do kinda like delivering groceries on the side because it gives me such a unique cross-section of the community. i never know whose groceries im shopping for until i finish the delivery and see them/their home and it's like it adds more detail to the picture of who they are. the baby supplies going to the apartment that i know for a fact is one bedroom (they'll be moving soon - i bet they're apartment hunting, i hope they find a place). the new cat litter box, bowl, and kitten food going to the house covered in "i <3 my dog" paraphernalia (a kitten definitely showed up on the porch recently and made itself at home). the fairly healthy boring grocery order that includes an incongruous tub of candy-filled ice cream going to the home of an elderly woman with toddler toys in the yard (it's clearly for her grandkids, whom she sees often).
shopping for someone else's groceries is a fairly intimate thing. i've bought condoms and pregnancy tests, allergy medicine and nyquil, baby benadryl and teething gel, a huge pile of veggies paired with an equally huge pile of junk food, tampons and shampoo and closet organizers and ant traps and deodorizing shoe inserts and a million other little things that tell a million different stories in their endless combinations. one time someone had me buy one single green bean. i messaged them to confirm that's actually what they wanted, and they said yes - neither of them liked green beans very much, but they had a baby they were introducing to solid foods, and they wanted to let him try one to see if he liked them. another time i had someone request 50 fresh roma tomatoes - not for a restaurant, but for a person in an apartment. the kitchen behind them smelled like basil and garlic when they opened the door. another time i brought groceries to three elderly blind women who share a house. that was one of the few times i have ever broken my rule and gone inside a place i've delivered to, because they asked if i could place the grocery bags in a specific location in the kitchen for them to work on unloading and there was no way i was going to refuse helping.
i gripe about the poor tippers, but people can also be incredibly kind. one time i took shelter from a sudden vicious hailstorm inside an older lady's home in a trailer park, while i was in the middle of delivering her groceries. we both huddled just inside the door, watching in shock as golf-ball-sized hail swept through for about five minutes and then disappeared. she handed me an extra $10 bill on my way out the door.
when covid was at its deadliest, people would leave extra (often lysol-scented) cash tips and thank-you notes for me taped to the door or partially under the mat. i especially loved the clearly kid-drawn thank you notes with marker renderings of blobby people in masks, or trees, or rainbows. in summer of 2020 i delivered to a nice older couple who lived outside of town in the hills, and they insisted i take a huge double handful of extra disposable gloves and masks to wear while shopping - those were hard to find in stores at the time, but they wanted me to have some of their supply and wouldn't take no for an answer.
anyway. all this to say people are mostly good, or at least trying to be, despite my complaints.
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Overtime 11
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: your boss, Mr. Hansen, runs you ragged but you find solace in an unexpected friend.
Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Jake Jensen.
Author’s Note: This one is dedicated to my dearest @thezombieprostitute
Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜
Mr. Hansen is right. Your legs are long. Too long. The short skirt makes you feel gawky and overexposed. The tight halter does little to make up for that and the visor around your head can’t hide your shame.
As he climbs out of the golf cart, you do the same. You cross your arms and stay to the side as he goes to the back of the cart and peruses his bag of clubs. He peers out across the green then back to the collection. He hooks his finger under a hooked foot and slides the club free.
He slips the cover off and turns the club. He looks at you and smirks as he approaches.
“How about a personal lesson, Critter? Give you the what about before you get creamed?” He boasts.
You shrug and drop your arms.
“Sir,” you agree without agreeing.
He grabs a tee and a ball and pokes the former into the grass. He waves you over and you approach reluctantly. He flutters his fingers with impatience and reaches for you. He takes your arm and moves you in front of him.
“Alright, set your feet,” he kicks your shoes and you put your soles flat. “And you wanna push your shoulders back.”
He reaches around you with the club and guides your hands around it. He squeezes his grip over yours. He’s flush to his back, his breath fanning on your shoulder, as he moves your body with his.
“Loosen up a bit, swing with your whole body,” his voice is low and silty, not his usual snarl. He leads you in a swing, “twist,” he raises the club, “and follow through.”
You do your best to let him take control. You’re not exactly listening. You just want this over with. If you give him what he wants, he’ll get bored. That’s the way it is.
You twitch as he presses his pelvis against your butt. Your lips part but you don’t say anything. It’s nothing. You’re sensitive because you’re not used to so much skin. When he’s done you move away with the club.
“Ladies first,” he winks, “all yours.”
He gestures to the ball and you move towards you. You stare down at the dimpled ball, happy he can’t see your face. You don’t care where you hit it. Just hit it.
You reset your feet like he said. You shift your hips as you hold the club on your own, measuring the weight and balance in your hands. He points out the hole, “somewhere over there, sweetheart.”
You ignore the pet name and bite your lip. You pull the club up and back and swing through, twisting with the motion. You keep your feet in place as the club meets the ball and you lose track of it as it goes zooming off into the distance.
Silence. You step back and turn to Mr. Hansen. You hold out the club as he squints into the sky. “Huh.”
“Is it your go, sir?” You ask as you wiggle the club.
“Yeah...” he utters and snatches the club.
He lines up and makes his shot. His ball goes to the left of yours. He tilts his head but doesn’t comment. You’re not sure who’s closer. He spins and shoves the club at you. You take it and put it back in the bag. He’s already behind the wheel of the cart.
You climb in next to him and fall into the seat as he steps on the gas. You jostle next to him, holding the side to keep from sliding completely across the seat. He reaches over with one hand to steady you, clasping down on your knee.
You flinch and look down at his hand. The little dots on his glove are rough. As he keeps his grip on the wheel, his touch slowly works up your thigh. You squeak and latch onto his wrist.
“Mr. Hansen.”
“Making sure you don’t fall out,” he snickers. “I’d say you’re falling out enough.”
He slows as he looks over at you, his eyes aimed at the deep vee of the halter.
“Sir,” your curl your shoulders in.
“Ah, come on,” he slaps your leg, “it’s a day out of the office. You should be fucking ecstatic.” He rolls the wheel and you lean into him without meaning too. “I’m sure you got all the eligible bachelors lined up and ready to take you out shopping, huh?”
“Uh, Mr. Hansen, thanks, but uh--”
“I’m sure Jake loves taking you to the comic store, huh?”
“Sir, I... Jensen is a co-worker--”
“Seems real fucking cozy to me. Critter, I know those beady eyes aren’t blind. The way that man drools at your desk,” he tuts, “I need you focused.” He snaps his fingers in front of your face. “Remember who you work for.”
“Mr. Hansen, I wouldn’t--”
“You wouldn’t do anything I don’t tell you to do. I know that,” he slaps his hand back on your thigh, higher, right at the edge of your skirt. “Not like last night when you walked out on me.”
You squirm as his fingers caress your sensitive skin. You never realised how sensitive that part of your leg is. You lean back against the seat and squeak.
“Sir, please, slow down,” you beg as the car bounces.
“I told you, you should show these off,” he squeezes your leg. “You can’t even take good advice. You come in dressed like some retiree. You got too much ass for that.”
“Sir,” you beg and nudge his arm. “This isn’t professional--”
“What’s not professional,” he slams on the brakes and you lurch forward, his hand slipping up your skirt. You squeal and close your legs around his hand. “Is you fucking flirting with that Big Bang Theory fuck on my pay.”
“But, Mr. Hansen,” you grab onto his forearm, “I didn’t--”
“Heard about your trip to IT this morning. Think I don’t know what the fuck is up,” he pinches you and you whine. “You’re getting uppity, Critter. I see it. I tasted it in my fucking coffee.” He rips his hand away and shoves you off the seat.
You land on the grass with a helpless flail. He gets out and grabs a club from the bag as he rounds the cart. He strides around as he spins it then steadies it, putting it just below your chin.
“Lucky for you, I’m a spit kinda guy. I just usually don’t partake outside the bedroom,” he puts his cleats on your chest as he pins you on your back. “So, critter, let’s get this straight. Where you are right now, in the dirt, that’s where you belong. So, stop fucking with me.”
You stare up at him, horrified as the spikes on his shoes bite through the shirt and your skin.
“Mr. Hansen--”
“And the next time you talk to that jizzhole, I’ll have my nine iron ready to knock his block off. Got it?”
“Ow, please--”
“No, you say it. Say ‘yes, Mr. Hansen.’”
You writhe and dig your heels into the grass as his cleats sink in further and he pushes your chin up with the club.
“Yes, Mr. Hansen,” you whimper.
#overtime#lloyd hansen#dark lloyd hansen#dark!lloyd hansen#jake jensen#dark jake jensen#dark!jake jensen#lloyd hansen x reader#jake hensen x reader#series#drabble#au#the gray man#the losers
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stay?
pairings: bucky barnes x reader
summary: after one date with Bucky Barnes your life takes a turn for the worst.
warnings: awkward first date (kinda), violence, angst, fluff, sexual assault (warning just in case), kidnapping, sad bucky, sad reader, sadness lol (let me know if i forgot anything pleasee)
word count: 4170
a/n: enjoy :)
Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :)
I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.
masterlist
Your pinky finger was slowly inching towards his as he walked you up the steps to your door. It had been the perfect evening, starting off with a dinner at one of the fanciest restaurants in the city, then a couple games of mini golf followed by cheeseburgers because both of you agreed the portions at “WOZ” were nowhere near enough. You’d met Bucky through one of your friends, and if you were being honest the idea of dating an Avenger was very intimidating but she insisted you would be ‘perfect together’.
“Thank you for tonight Bucky, I had a really good time.” You’d grown more confident as the night went on but now that the date was ending you were back to your shy self. You didn’t want the night to end and even though you’d only met Bucky a few hours ago you had felt an instant connection. It really felt like how the movies made first dates look.
“I had a good time too, would..” He stops himself and you can tell he’s feeling nervous, so you smile up at him, silently asking him to continue. You see his shoulders loosen once he sees your smile, “..would you maybe wanna do this aga-..?”
“Yes.” You answer before he can even finish his sentence.
“You do?”
“I do.” You were internally beating yourself up for being so awkward but you couldn’t help but jump at the chance at seeing Bucky again. What you didn’t know that was Bucky was doing the same thing, Steve had always described him as being smooth with the ladies but right now it was like all his flirting skills had completely disappeared.
“I erm, I better get going, but I’ll call you!”
“I’ll be waiting!” You cringed at yourself, why did you have to be so awkward?
“See you doll.” Bucky flashes you a smile - which has become one of your favourite sights in the very short time you’ve known him - before he starts to walk down the steps. You wave to him as he walks away and wait until you can no longer see him before you close your door.
You drop your bag on the counter, untie your shoes and start to unzip your dress as you walk to your bedroom before a knock at your door stops you. You don’t think twice before going over and opening the knock, the only logical person it could be was Bucky. Right?
“Back alrea- Oh. Hi?” It wasn’t Bucky, it was a man with short black hair and tattoos and a black hood covering most of his face. “Can I help you?”
“You Y/N Y/L/N?” The man grunts at you in return.
“I am.. Who are you?” As soon as you answer him you regret it, it goes against every piece of advice you’d been given about being safe as a woman in the city.
“You don’t need to know who I am sweetheart.” Your heartbeat was beginning to speed up now, panic setting in fast. You try to close your door as quickly as you can but his foot stops you.
He begins to shake his head, “Uh uh, I don’t think so.” he pushes forward and you fall backwards landing on the floor.
Your eyes were beginning to well up and you were frozen in fear, this was it wasn’t it? You’re gonna die right here.
“Stop being such a baby jesus fucking christ.” He paced around your apartment a little, his jacket moving slightly which makes the gun he has in the back of his jeans become visible.
“P-Please, you can take anything you want. Just please don’t hurt me” You pleaded to him, hoping somehow there was a tiny part of him that would listen.
“I’m not gonna hurt you.” You sighed deeply thinking there was a chance you’d get out of this alive, but if he wasn’t going to hurt you what was he planning to do?
“What do..what do you want from me?”
“I’m just here to take ya to the big man.”
You didn’t think you could feel any more scared than you already did, but the mention of “the big man” terrified you. Why were they targeting you?
“Do me a favour, would ya sweetheart? Stop talking.” He smirked down at you which only made you feel worse, it looked like he was enjoying this.
You were too scared to say anything else, and he was focusing on his phone instead of you. Part of you was tempted to try and escape but you were still frozen in fear, you had no defence skills and probably wouldn’t get very far and you really didn’t wanna piss this guy off anymore.
Around 10 minutes pass of you sitting on the floor, wracking your brain to find any reason as to why someone would want to kidnap you. You weren't anything special, and you hadn’t even lived in New York for that long.
“Get up. He’s ready for ya.” You get to your feet shakily and wait for him to tell you what to do next.
“Go on then.” He shoves you towards the door, and follows behind you. As you near the door you feel something hard against your back. “Make any noise and I’ll use it.” Shit. You didn’t say anything back, just nodding to show you understood.
After you get into his car he drives for what feels like hours to an underground garage, you tried to memorise the route you went but it was hopeless. You’d never been to this side of the city before. A few minutes walk later and you’re standing outside an office, you assume this is the guy who sent someone to hunt you down.
The door opens and you get pushed in, stumbling a little before you find your balance. There are two men waiting in there, who look you up and down before smirking.
“Soldier chooses them well.” The taller one says to his shorter friend.
“Sure does. Shame he’ll never see her again.”
Soldier? Are they talking about Bucky?
“What do you want from me?” You tried to keep your voice calm but you could tell it came out laced with fear.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” The shorter man walks towards you and trials his finger over the edge of your dress. “All you need to worry about is standing here and looking pretty, sweetheart.”
—-----
On the other side of the city the soldier in question was sitting discussing ‘the best night of his life’ with Sam, who was silently judging how his friend was acting.
“And everytime she told me a joke she'd wait a couple seconds before laughing to make sure I found it funny first. And when she laughs her nose scrunches up, it’s so adorable. And everytime i told her she looked nice she’d do this thing where she bites her lip and she can’t look me in the eye. It’s ad-“
“Adorable. I get it, Buck.”
Bucky blushes as he realises how long he’d been speaking about you, but he can’t help it. He’s never met someone like you before and he can’t stop thinking about you since he left your doorstep.
“How long is an acceptable time before I call her?” Bucky knows Sam is probably sick of hearing about you but he’s Bucky’s favourite (and only) person he feels safe enough to talk to, not that he’d ever tell Sam that.
Sam looks at the imaginary watch on his wrist before answering. “Not 3 hours Buck.” A frown appears on Bucky’s face to which Sam snickers at. “I thought you were a ladies man.”
“I was. Things are different now.” Bucky tries to force a smile out but he can’t. His voice grows a lot quieter as he continues. “Do you think she doesn’t want me to call?”
“Hey, I didn’t say that! The way you’ve described the night, it sounds like she feels the same as you.”
“Hm. Maybe.”
“Buck I’m serious, I was just joking before. I’m sure she’s waiting for your call.”
“So tomorrow?” Bucky asks with his smirk growing again.
Sam laughs, “Yeah, tomorrow.”
Safe to say Bucky does not wait until tomorrow, actually he doesn’t even make it another hour before texting you.”
Hey, it’s Bucky! Sorry if this is too soon but I had a really good time tonight. We need a rematch soon!
He spent a further 2 hours staring at the screen, with every minute that passed that the message was left on ‘delivered’ he picked apart his message more. He finally locks his phone and heads to his room for the night. But not without a lecture from Sam first. “You called her didn’t you?”
“No!” Bucky rushes to defend himself. “But hypothetically if someone was to text their date 4 hours after the date. How would that look?”
“Bucky! I thought you were waiting until tomorrow.”
“I tried.”
“Has she responded?”
Bucky shakes his head. “Is this what ghosting is? Oh god. Am I being ghosted?”
“Please for the love of god stop letting Peter teach you modern slang. You’re not being ghosted, it’s late she’s probably just sleeping. Bucky looks at the clock behind Sam and sighs in relief.
“You’re right. Okay, I’m gonna sleep too.” It was nearing 3am, no wonder you haven't replied to him he thought to himself.
Bucky gets around 4 hours of sleep before he gets woken up by his phone ringing. He answers it without looking at who it is. “You’ve got 3 hours to give me back my brother, or else your girl gets a bullet through her pretty little face.”
That wakes Bucky up faster than he ever has before. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You heard me, Soldier. Clock’s ticking.” The call ends.
Bucky freezes for a second trying to gain a little bit of understanding of what the fuck just happened. He pulls on the first piece of clothing he can find and runs towards the common room, hoping to find someone who can help him. Luckily the whole team is there, which is strange, normally the only time that happens is when there’s a mission going on.
Before Bucky can even begin to explain what’s happening, Fury pipes up. “Barnes, what do you know about a Y/N Y/L/N?”
“Fuck!” This means he wasn’t imagining that phone call. We had one date, literally just last night. What the fuck is going on?”
Half of the team moves so Bucky can see the big screen, and on it there’s a blown up picture of you, tied to a seat. Your dress is ripped, there’s blood dripping down the side of your face and your eyes are red, as if you’d been crying non stop for hours. Bucky walks slowly towards the screen and stops for a second to take in the picture, and almost instantly his brain switches to fighter mode.
“What do we know?”
“Bucky, maybe you should sit this one out.” Sam tries to reason with him, but Bucky doesn’t listen.
“What the fuck do we know?”
Fury begins to tell Bucky all the information they have. “It seems your girlfriend wa-“
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Bucky wishes that statement wasn’t true, he wishes he could say you were his girl, but after this he was 100% sure that would never be the case.
“Okay.” Nick continues, wary of pissing Bucky off any more. “It seems Ms Y/L/N was taken from her home at around 11.30 last night. Her neighbours report seeing a black Audi sitting outside her apartment before she got home and say it left 30 minutes after you dropped her off. There’s no cameras in the area, her phone was left in her apartment so there is no way of tracking her. And just 30 minutes ago this picture was sent to my email. Along with a threat to her life if Zemo is not released from the raft in 3 hours.”
Bucky tries to process all the information, you were taken just 30 minutes after he left? Guilt. Zemo has a brother? Anger. They were threatening to kill you? Fear.
“I got a phone call a few minutes ago, said the same thing. Any leads on who this bastard is?”
“None. No one is aware of Zemo having a brother.”
Bucky nods along, “What’s the plan?”
“You said you got a call? We’ll get tech to try and track it..” Nat suggests, knowing it most likely won’t work but it’s their best bet right now. “..and when they call again at least we’ll be ready to track it.”
“You think they’re gonna be dumb enough to leave a trace?” Bucky snapped at Nat.
“It’s all we’ve got, Bucky. Look, we know you had some sort of relationship with this girl but you need to stay calm.”
“I’m trying.” Bucky’s voice breaks a little, showing everyone how he is really feeling.
A couple minutes pass of everyone thinking the same thing but being too afraid to say it, until Fury finally breaks the silence. “There’s no way we can let Zemo out.”
Bucky knows there’s no logical reason for them to listen to your kidnappers demands, he knows majority of the time they never stick to them, but the thought of you getting hurt anymore was too much to handle.
“You’re just gonna let her die?” He shouts across the table.
“Barnes I suggest you calm down or I’ll remove your clearance for this mission.” Bucky nods, knowing the best thing he can do right now is keep as calm as possible, panic will only make things worse. “As I was saying, I’m not willing to release Zemo from the raft, but we can make this brother of his think we are. When he next contacts us, we’ll let him believe we’re following what he is asking of us. Everyone got it?”
The room fills with a mix of mumbles, mostly consisting of ‘yes sirs’ and ‘got it’s’. Bucky stays silent. He’d finally found a girl he liked and she ends up in this situation, the guilt he was feeling was worse than anything he’d ever felt before, including the years of physical and mental trauma he’s been through.
Sam’s soft voice breaks him out of his thoughts, “Buck? You okay?” For the first time since he learned of your danger Bucky’s face softens, and his eyes begin to grow wet.
“I don’t wanna lose her Sam.” Sam might not understand how Bucky feels this strongly about you in such a short amount of time but one thing he understands is that you are important to Bucky and that means you are important to him.
“We’ll get her back. Come on. Let’s suit up so we’re ready.”
—--
You made the mistake of asking for some water which resulted in you being slapped across the face with the back of a gun and tied up on a rickety old chair .You hadn’t spoken since. You’d accepted that it was just a matter of time before they killed you and part of you just wanted them to get it over with. No matter how hard you tried you couldn't stop the tears falling down your cheeks and these men did not like that at all.
“Tell me again why we’re keeping her alive? Her crying is starting to get real boring.” One guy asks the other.
“Just shut her up will ya? I need to call them again” You try so hard to stop yourself from whimpering but the pain from the rope around your hands and the ache in your head hurts so bad and a couple of seconds later a rag is being stuffed in your mouth.
“Darling.. You get what this means?” He lifts his gun up and trails it along the side of your face. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” You hold your breath, terrified that even a slight movement will make things worse. “Good girl.” His smile, it’s something you don’t think you’ll ever forget if you make it out of here alive.
The other man dials a number and puts it on speaker. “You got my brother yet?”
“He’s on his way to us. First we need some proof that Y/N is still alive.”
The man walks over to you slowly and takes the rag slightly out your mouth. “Tell them sweetheart.” You couldn't answer even if you wanted to, the fear being too much. He whips his gun against your head again making you cry out again. “Don’t make me ask again.”
“I.. I’m alive.” You had no idea who you were talking to, it was a voice you didn’t recognise but one you’d never forget, maybe, just maybe they’d be the one who saved you.
—---
“I.. I’m alive.” Bucky nearly breaks down right there at the sound of your voice, Sam's hand lands on his shoulder and squeezes gently.
“Why are you doing this?” Fury asks, he doesn’t really care why, he knows people like these guys have no moral compass but he’s trying to make the call last as long as he can so they can track it.
“You took my brother away from me, I’m only getting him back.”
“At the cost of an innocent life?”
“You mean her?” He scoffs. “Can’t be that innocent if she's dating the winter soldier.” Sam can feel Bucky’s shoulders tense under his touch at the mention of his past life. “Stop wasting my time, just get my brother back to me. I’ll send you an address in 1 hour. Be there or the girl dies.” The call ends before Fury can reply.
“We got them!” An agent Bucky doesn’t know shouts up from the back of the room. “Sir, we’ve got them.”
Bucky immediately makes his way over to where the agent is sitting and tries to read the computer but has no luck, it’s all in code. “Where is she?”
“Water Crescent Garage, on the other side of the city.” She replies, as she continues typing. “The jet will get you there in 15 minutes.”
“Let’s go.” Bucky’s out of the room before anyone can respond, running through the halls and reaching the jet before anyone else.
“Barnes, I’ll remind you. Stay calm or you’re off.”
“I know. I’m calm” He was most certainly calm. “Can we please just go?” His voice is dripping in desperation, he just wants you safe.
—-------
“Looks like Soldier wants you back, hmm?” The taller guy asks you, knowing you can’t answer him. “Maybe I’ll see what he’s getting every night huh?” He begins to run his fingers over your bare shoulder, nearing your neck and beginning to squeeze slightly. You try to move away but the rope keeps you in place. “This what he likes doing to you? He likes having control? He likes to own you?” He brings his other hand towards the zip on the side of your dress before an alarm stops him. He looks around to the other guy in the room. “Stay with her. I’ll go.”
The other guy grunts in response. Once the taller guy has left he walks towards you, gun in his hand. “You better hope your boyfriend isn’t trying something sweetheart. It won’t end well.” You don’t understand why these guys think you and Bucky were so serious, you’d only had one date.
You start to hear gunshots in the distance, getting closer and closer to you every second. You were praying the good guys were winning and that they were here to save you.
A few minutes pass when the door to your room bursts open and none other than Captain America himself walks in. It takes him less than 15 seconds to disarm and knock out the guy who was left with you, although it feels like longer for you. “Buck, I’ve got her.” He walks over to you and removes the cloth in your mouth.
Bucky was here. “Bucky?”
“Hey Y/N, I’m here to help okay?” He begins to untie the rope around your hands, careful to not hurt you. “Bucky’s on his way. It’s over.”
As Sam was untying your feet Bucky runs into the room and rushes over to you. His heart breaks when he sees you upclose. Your cheeks that were so rosy just last night were now white as a ghost, your lips once red were now blue and bruised, the sparkle he had just seen hours ago in your eyes was now replaced with fear.
You stand up with the help of Sam and look towards Bucky.
“Are you okay? Where does it hurt? Sam, call the doc, let her know we’re coming.” Bucky's eyes are moving around your body, scouting out every injury he can find and taking note of it.
The only thing you can bring yourself to say is thank you, your lip wobbles as you say it and your voice is shaky with each word but Bucky understands. “Tha.. Thank you for saving me.”
He slowly reaches out to hold you against him, giving you enough time to tell him to stop if you want to. He wraps his arm around you, carefully avoiding anywhere that looks injured. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why they came after you. I promise as soon as I found out what was happening I started looking for you. I’m so sorry.”
You shake your head, he doesn't owe you an apology, none of this was his fault. The motion only makes you feel nauseous, and you feel as if you might throw up if you move anymore. “I can’t. I can’t.. I feel sick.” Bucky stops as soon as you ask.
“Can I carry you?”
“Please.” You were embarrassed to be feeling this weak but he didn’t seem bothered by it. He just seemed sad.
—---
After you get seen by the avenger’s doctor and prescribed some pretty strong painkillers you finally arrive home. Bucky tried to get you to stay in for longer, he was worried you would be feeling worse once the shock had worn off but you insisted on coming home. You needed to be in your own space.
“I’ll make you some food, you wanna get changed out of those?” You weren’t really hungry but you couldn't bring yourself to say no. You did want to badly get changed out of the clothes Natasha had lent you, they were very tight.
“Thank you.”
Bucky wanted to tell you to stop thanking him, you should be angry at him and it was killing him that you were treating him with so much kindness after everything you’d been through at his fault.
Bucky makes you a sandwich, knowing you probably wouldn't be too hungry. “It’s just to get some food in you. Some water too.” He said as he handed you a plate and glass of water.
The next words that left Bucky’s mouth were ones he’d never wanted to say but it didn’t feel right staying with you after what he’d put you through. “Do you need anything else before I go?”
You nearly choke as you swallow that bite. He gets down to his knee and looks up at you. “You okay?” You immediately start crying, not even trying to hide it. “Hey, what's wrong?” You hadn’t been apart from Bucky since he found you, and now that he was leaving you felt so scared again.
“I don’t wanna be alone.” His heart breaks again at how soft your voice comes out, almost as if you were afraid to speak.
He wants nothing more than to stay with you, keep you safe but he feels that with every second he spends with you the more you'll be at risk.
“Is there anyone I can call to stay with you?”
“Could you?” You almost whisper to him.
“What was that?” He asks softly.
“Could you stay?”
“You really want me to?”
“I do.”
He almost, almost says yes before he remembers how you looked when he found you in that room. He stands up and backs away a little. “I don’t think I should.”
You try to stand up and walk towards him but get a bit dizzy as you do, grabbing onto his arm for balance. “Why not?”
“Doll, sit down.” He guides you gently back onto the couch. “It’s my fault you got hurt.”
“No Bucky, that’s not true. I really like you Bucky, and whilst this may not have been the second date we had in mind, I don’t want to lose you. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel the same.”
“I never said I didn't feel the same way, I just.. I just can't put you in any more danger.”
“The way I see it, you saved me from danger. And I know now that you’ll always be there to save me. Please stay?” He nods.
“You’ll stay?”
“I’ll stay.”
#wwilsonbarness#stay?#marvel#bucky barnes#sebastian stan#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x reader#buckybarnes x y/n#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fan fiction
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care-taking - muse a rubs muse b’s arms repeatedly to get some warm into them
or
intimacy - muse a braids/brushes/works knots out of muse b’s hair
for whichever couple sparks your imagination!
-lestweforget5
I know you said "or," but each prompt was so perfect for each couple that I couldn't decide. So, you're getting a two-fer :')
(under the cut to save space)
care-taking - muse a rubs muse b’s arms repeatedly to get some warm into them.
“Well, ladies and gentleman,” the bandleader calls out to the patrons. “It’s your last chance; time for the final dance of the evening. Thanks to you all for joining us at Minton’s.” He turns, baton raised in a paused stance to ready his band members for their final number. With a swish of the stick, the band swells into ‘Pennsylvania 65000’, the girls pulling their tired husbands to their feet for the last time that night.
Jean Crosby and Jo Rosenthal had been swapping husbands all night, depending on the tune. They had figured out long ago that Bing enjoyed slow dances with his wife, pressed up close and heads pushed together softly as they swayed. “Two left feet,” he’d always complain, apologetically looking towards Jo as he’d tentatively dance with her to the more upbeat numbers, while Jo let her borrow her Robbie every now and then to throw her around the dancefloor, her head thrown back in fits of giggles and joy as she was spun over and over.
The girls, knowing one another well enough by this point to communicate wordlessly, had silently agreed to switch partners halfway through the number. With a sly wink, Jean sidles up to her husband and takes him by the hand. “Come on, Bing!” she slurs. “It’s all in the hips.”
“Really? Looks like it’s all in the feet to me,” he guffaws, kissing his wife on the temple as he attempts to move in beat with the music.
As the song ends, the group begin to grab their coats and bags, quickly exiting to beat traffic. They stop at a crossroads, the Rosenthals walking the few blocks home while Jean and Harry wait for a cab to Jean’s mother’s house.
“Call you tomorrow,” Jo says, kissing her best friend on the cheek. “We need to talk about what we’re bringing to the potluck next week.” “Oh, yes!” Jean cheers. “I’m hoping that Olive brings Victoria sponge cake again.” “I’m hoping for Vika’s dabeli. Mmmm,” she moans, her eyes closed in momentary ecstasy. “Well, darn it, now I’m hungry,” she grumbles, her husband wrapping his arm around her after bidding farewell to Croz with a firm handshake and hug, promising to meet him at the Crosby residence the next week for their game of golf with the other fellas. “Bye, Jean!” “Bye, doll!”
The cold air seems to hit Jean like a freight train the second their friends depart, as if their friendship was the thing keeping her warm in the winter night. She shivers lightly in her thin evening dress, feeling goosebumps erupt all over her fair skin.
“Say, didn’t ya bring a coat, Mrs Crosby?” Harry enquires, his brow softly furrowed in concern.
“No,” she shivers in reply, wrapping her hands over her arms. “A coat didn’t go with this dress or my shoes, and I couldn’t seem to find my wrap. It was warm enough when we left,” she complains, her eyes closing in regret. “I was so busy getting the little guy ready for my mother that I didn’t even think–”
“Here,” Harry says, running his warm palms over his wife’s arms and shoulders, before peeling off his dinner jacket, draping it around her shoulders. She is suddenly enveloped in his warmth, the beautiful scent of her betrothed softly creeping into her nostrils and warming her instantly. Pulling her close, he rakes his fingers through her curls and kisses her on the forehead. “There, my little wife. All better now.”
intimacy - muse a braids/brushes/works knots out of muse b’s hair.
(tw: being sick, v0miting mentioned)
Olive Douglass had awoken on Monday morning with a pit in her stomach. She had got up, made coffee for herself and her husband before packing his lunch for the day, and placed a cake in a box for the whole War Department to share. Her stomach had begun swirling as the coffee brewed, her mouth filling with saliva at the scent of it.
“Jesus,” she’d gagged, swallowing the incoming bile down and burning her esophagus in the process. A sheen of sweat slaps at her body, the sudden temperature surge almost making her pass out.
“Good morning, beloved,” Dougie had called as he walked into the kitchen, beginning to pour coffee from the freshly brewed pot. Olive smiles weakly at her husband, hoping he doesn’t see her peaky complexion from where he’s stood. “Ollie!” he gasps, plonking the coffee cup down and rushing over to her. “Honey, you don’t look good.” “Oh, thanks,” she snorts, wiping at her brow with a tea towel. “I’m fine, truly,” she lies, the pair of them hearing her stomach suddenly churn.
“No, honey, beautiful as always but…”
She cuts him off, pushing him away and very ungracefully barfing in the sink. He’d somehow sensed it was coming, him instantly grabbing at her hair to pull it out of her face. “Oh, my poor baby,” he had soothed, rubbing her back with his fingers in slow, methodical circles. “Back to bed, Mrs Douglass.”
“Nooo,” she’d protested, head coming up from the sink. “I need to clean this and–” “I’ve got it. Let me just call work–”
“I’m fine!” his wife weeps, still protesting as her stomach turns once again, the scent of coffee disagreeing with her for the first time in her life. “No, honey.” “Yes,” he had replied forcefully, his hand on her forehead. “Bed, now.”
It was now Wednesday, and Olive had been bed bound for two whole days under her husband’s orders. After a twelve hour break from vomiting, it was back with a vengeance, Olive snapping herself bolt upright to aim into the bowl James had set by the bed. As she gags and dry heaves, the room spins and her head pounds, pulling her own hair back into a messy bun as she is too weak to call downstairs for help. Raking a hand through her hair, she encounters a giant knot where the bun has been sitting every time she’s tied it up. She grumbles and groans, intent on making it to her vanity across the bedroom, even if she has to crawl to get there.
She slumps from the bed to the floor with a clatter, Dougie hearing the sudden commotion from downstairs as he rushes to the bedroom.
“My girl, what on Earth?”
She looks up at him from where she’s laid on the floor, taking a quick breather before resuming crawling on all fours to reach her padded chair. “I wanted to brush my hair,” she quietly squeaks, her eyes filling with tears of frustration. James reaches over to the table and grabs the hairbrush, setting it on the side table before helping Olive back into the blankets.
“Here,” he says softly, grabbing the brush from where he set it. “Let me.” Slowly, softly and methodically, he works every knot out of his wife’s hair, careful to not hurt her. She feels herself relaxing in between his legs, her back on his chest as he combs through the last length of hair. “There, all done, beautiful.” “Hmmm,” she hums, snuggling into him. “Thank you.”
#ask answered#oc: jean crosby#it's been a long long time#Jean x Harry#harry crosby#oc: josephine harris#Love Letters: Rosie and Jo#rosie rosenthal#Jo x Rosie#honeysuckle rose#oc: olive lewis#james douglass#Olive x Dougie#james douglass x oc#rosie rosenthal x oc#harry crosby x oc#post war
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Bye Emma, hello restday (day 29-31)
On day 29 we walked from Gorran Haven to Carlyon Bay, around 19km. We made our breakfast porridge using the hot water kettle at the camp site (saved some dishes and gas) and said goodbye to Emma, who was brave enough to get up with us at 6am even though her bus only left at 9:30. On our walk on that grey day we came through Mevagissey after 5 km and we had a coffee there to wake up properly. I still had some memories of the town from our 2016 family holiday. Now we felt ready for all the ups and down (regarding elevation) the day had in store for us. It stayed grey but the views of the coves and beaches were still quite pretty. We came through Charlestown, a town with cute little shops, and as we got closer to Carlyon Bay there were quite a lot modern villas on big properties and a golf course. For our campsite, which was free according to the wikicamps app, we had to walk inland and found ourselves walking along a busy street in between a gated industrial site and a gated children's play paradise. Quite a difference to our usual surroundings on the path. The campsite belonged to an Inn and the lady there told us that they were not actually a campsite but a 'pit stop' for motorhomes. We could camp there for free anyways and we had a big choice of perfect grass pitches so we were happy:).
The Inn itself was quite cozy and they had a nice vegetarian menu (haloumi burger, madras curry & vegetable stew), therefore we took our chance to have an a bit too early but delicious easter meal sponsored by Margreet en Jobst. It was raining outside but in the Inn there was a nice and cozy atmosphere and after dinner (for dessert) we moved to one of the couches where stayed all evening reading our books. Talking about books: This morning I said to Rosa that it was a bit annoying that I didn't have a book for our upcoming restday anymore, after I gave it away in Falmouth... when five minutes later we came past and old phone booth converted to a book swap case! Rosa immediately spotted one book lying on top of others that she said she would absolutely recommend and it wasn't even too big! It was possible to buy books for a donation into the money box at the public toilets, and as I didn't have a book to swap anymore, I did that. The universe took care of me, as Rosa said.
That night I didn't sleep so well as it got cold during the night and my sleeping bag wasn't properly closed at my back - so in the morning I felt like my cold had come back. Luckily, as mentioned above, we would soon have a rest day.
The next day (Thursday), Rosa already left the path after 4km in Par to go to our shepherds hut, the designated place for our rest day, and she did groceries at Aldi on her way there. I still wanted to complete the loop around Grubbing Head to Fowey, from where I would take the Ferry to Polruan and then the bus to the hut in Pelynt. It was a nice day and the walk wasn't long but it was quite tiring anyways, maybe because of my cold.
The bus which I wanted to take from the ferry quay didn't come so I took another one that didn't go to Pelynt directly. After a few stops the bus driver said that I would miss my connecting bus in Polperro and that I could better walk from here ("It's all flat, take the second right"). I thanked him for the tip and got off. The 2,5 miles walk turned out to be a bit more adventurous than expected because at some point I took a path which was marked with a sign saying 'public footpath' but which obviously wasn't really in use anymore. I arrived at our hut with wet feet again due to a small river crossing, but it didn't matter as it turned out we could do a washing at the campsite and it was nice weather so I could let my shoes dry. After a shower I enjoyed the late afternoon lying on the bed with the windows open and our delicious meal in the evening for which Rosa had done excellent shopping.
Today, the 7th of April, is our restday and we mainly spend it reading, drinking tea and doing some small to-dos. It's great! Also we discovered it's exactly one month ago that we started our hike!
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A Comprehensive Guide to Ladies Golf Gear: Essentials for Performance and Style
Introduction:
Golf has been the sport of skill, strategy, and etiquette for a long time. Traditionally, this is one male-dominated sport, but of late women have not only taken to this sport but are also making their dent with skill and panache. This swing in the interest of women has raised demand for high-quality, performance-oriented, and stylish ladies' golf gear. From clubs designed for the ladies' needs to apparel for comfort and functionality, ladies' golf gear today comes in an impressive array of options. This guide should take a closer look at everything you need to know about ladies' golf gear, from ladies' golf clubs and on-course clothing to shoes and other accessories designed specifically for women. Whether you're a true beginner or a very experienced player, investing in the right gear will go a long way in making a huge difference in your game.
Key Components of Ladies Golf Gear
Women's Golf Clubs
Driver: Generally, ladies' drivers are made a bit lighter and with a higher loft so they can hit longer distances without needing to use so much energy.
Irons and Wedges: Ladies' irons are often fitted with a graphite shaft and of a slightly reduced length so it allows giving more swing control.
Putter: Most putters are made with smaller grips and lengths for better handling and control.
Hybrids: They are favorite for lady golfers, for they can offer versatility the same way as long irons but are fairly much easier to maneuver.
Ladies Golf Bags
Cart Bags: These are heavier and a perfect choice for those golfers who intend to use a golf cart. Cart bags may be availed with voluminous storage and easy access to equipment.
Stand Bags: Stand bags are both light weight and portable, with a feature that makes them favorable to golfers who enjoy walking the course.
Carry Bags: Super lightweight for those players who carry only the bare essentials, they have few pockets for ease of handling.
Ladies' Golf Clothing
Polo Shirts and Sleeveless Tops: Designed for comfort in breathable materials like polyester or cotton blends for fabulous stretch and cool factor.
Golf Skorts and Shorts: The comfort of shorts with the appeal of a skirt in skorts has made them hot favorites amongst golfing women. Shorts and capris are great for hot weather.
Outerwear: Windbreakers, waterproof jackets, and layering pieces provide added comfort on colder months or rainy days. Headwear: Hats and visors are vital for protection from the sun to
keep you in focus for the game.
Women's Golf Shoes
Spiked vs. Spikeless: Spiked shoes assure much better grip on wet or hilly areas, while spikeless shoes will be comfortable and versatile on flatter courses.
Breathability/Waterproofing: A waterproof option would be a decent choice to keep your feet dry during dewy mornings or in rainy conditions.
Arch Support/Cushioning: Proper support is highly imperative in avoiding any signs of fatigue, particularly when you are most likely to walk the course.
The Essentials On-Course Accessories
Golf Gloves: In order to maintain proper grip and avoid any blister formations, women's gloves come in multiple sizes that will fit your hand just right.
Rangefinders: Devices used to measure distances to pins, rangefinders prove quite helpful to establish the accuracy of your shots.
Golf Tees and Balls: Women's golfing balls are usually softer to allow for more spin and control.
Towels and Ball Markers: The towels will keep your clubs clean while the ball markers will help you mark your spot on the green. Umbrella: A good quality golf umbrella will keep you dry from those quick showers.
How to Pick the Ideal Ladies Golf Equipment: Things to Consider
Budget
This will define your quality and quantity of gear that you can purchase. It is better to splurge on high-quality essentials like clubs and shoes and economize on the other less-than-necessary things that can be replaced afterward.
Skill Level
This may mean the beginner devoting more attention to the main tools of the trade, while the intermediate and advanced player seeks special tools that help fine tune certain parts of their game. For each of these three levels of player, there is a set by the likes of both TaylorMade and Callaway.
Personal Comfort
Comfort should be a priority in your gear selection. Break in shoes to ensure adequate support, and check your clubs for just the right grip. Your apparel should permit freedom of movement; breathable fabrics are best, especially for summer rounds.
Course Conditions
If you play lots of hilly or wet courses, then spiked shoes will help provide traction. Waterproofed apparel and bags can help in rainy conditions; in warm, flat courses lighter, breathable clothing and spikeless shoes work nicely.
Style Preferences
To many women golfers, fashionably designed and stylish gear helps to reflect their personalities. Many golf apparel brands realize this and offer designs that integrate style with functionality. Look for items that can make you feel confident on the course.
Brands that Shine in Ladies Golf Gear
A few brands rise to the top in the ladies golf gear market, combining quality and performance with style. Here is a brief summary of some of the notable names:
TaylorMade: Renowned for high-performance clubs and innovation, TaylorMade's women's line includes clubs designed with lighter materials for optimal speed and distance.
Callaway: Popular for forgiving clubs and reliable balls, this brand works well for beginning and intermediate players.
Nike and Adidas: These companies are the leading golf apparel brands providing moisture-wicking clothing, comfortable shoes, and stylish outerwear designed just for women.
FootJoy: This is a well-recognized name in footwear for golfers. FootJoy has spiked and spikeless options with exceptional arch support and comfortable cushioning.
Ping: Ping offers complete sets tailored to women, along with lightweight and durable golf bags that boast ample storage for all accessories.
Women's Golf Equipment FAQs
What should I look for when purchasing lady's golf clubs?
Selection is based on material, length, and weight. Women's clubs are lighter and shorter; the shafts are also more flexible to accommodate the slow swinging speed. A full set of hybrids and putters would be better for beginners because both can lighten the burden of learning.
Are there certain clothing brands that actually address the needs for women's golf apparel?
Yes, several brands are into women's golf attire. These include Nike, Adidas, Callaway, and Puma. These companies have made clothes to provide comfort, flexibility, and style. Most of them contain high-performance fabrics for efficient sweat removal and to keep you cool. Many options provide freedom of movement.
How often should I replace my golf gear, particularly clubs and shoes?
Gear replacement does depend on usage and wear. Most golf clubs will generally last about 3-5 years, but drivers and putters will very well probably outlive the set. Shoes should be changed every 1-2 years, especially if one plays a lot. Always check all your gear for wear and tear, since performance could be affected when using worn-out gear.
What type of golf balls does one recommend for ladies to improve their performance?
They tend to be softer so it allows for more control and greater distances. Titleist, Callaway, and Bridgestone are a few that make women's golf balls designed for slower swing speeds, thus providing even better performance and accuracy.
Is there gear available to enhance my game?
But several accessories will help you take your game to the next level, such as rangefinders for accurately determining distances, gloves for a firmer yet sure grip, and putting mats for training. Even the tiniest accessories like ball markers and divot tools come in pretty handy and also keep your good etiquette going.
Conclusion
It means both comfort and good performance on the course are dependent on the right choice of ladies' equipment in golf. High-quality clubs, durable golf bags, stylish apparel, and supporting footwear are but a few of the choices to be made to meet the needs of women at all skill levels. Remember, along with personal style, one should choose equipment related to the skill level and course conditions. The truth is, quality equipment can make all the difference in the game and will probably heighten your enjoyment of each game. This guide should take a closer look at everything you need to know about ladies' golf gear, from ladies' golf clubs and on-course clothing to shoes and other accessories designed specifically for women.
When you have the right equipment to your name, you will be all so different in stepping onto that green. Be it beating the score, just for enjoyment, or simply hanging out with friends, well-suited gear makes all the difference. So find your equipment match, and let your confidence shine on the course!
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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Brighton Moc Croc Golf Charm Belt Sz L - MINT.
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Luxury Golf Shoes For Women: Combining Style And Performance On The Green
The traditional view of golf as a game played only by refined gentlemen has evolved. As more and more ladies take up the game, golfing style has shifted to accommodate female players' individual preferences. One such development worth noting is the meteoric ascent of luxury golf shoes for women, which combine high fashion with enhanced performance.
Function And Design: Luxury Golf Shoes Serve Two Purposes
The design of high-end golf shoes for ladies isn't only about their appearance. These golf shoes are made with the utmost care and cutting-edge technology for optimal performance. Luxury golf shoes for women help improve a golfer's performance in several ways, including providing improved traction and arch support.
What Counts: Building Beauty From The Foundation Up
Luxury golf shoes for women always comprise high-quality materials. The combination of premium leather, suede, and synthetic textiles allows manufacturers to craft long-lasting and fashionable products. The material selection enhances the shoe's comfort, breathability, and water resistance, which also contributes to the shoe's overall look.
From The Ancient To The Modern: Varieties Of Patterns
Women's high-end golf shoes are available in various styles, from traditional to cutting-edge. Modern, minimal shapes sit alongside time-honored favorites like classic wingtips and saddle shoes. Each golfer will be able to discover a pair that speaks to her sense of style, giving her the freedom to be herself on and off the course.
Attractive Color Schemes
Luxury golf shoes for women stand out due to their elaborate design and vibrant color palette. To help golfers transition from the course to the clubhouse, several brands are experimenting with bold colors, muted pastels, and upscale metallic embellishments. Golfers may make a statement while respecting the sport's traditional norms with these color combinations.
Cute Mini Purse Bags: The Pinnacle Of Beauty And Practicality
The compact form of the small design pouch bags is a welcome change from the ubiquitous large purse. These bags are the epitome of simplicity; they satisfy the requirement of the modern lady for functionality without sacrificing her sense of style.
Redefinition Of Craftsmanship: Elegance In The Finer Points
Miniature pouches with intricate patterns are a tribute to skilled labor. Everything about this item, from the stitching to the hardware, has been carefully selected to work together in harmony. The small form factor forces designers to pay close attention to every last detail, resulting in a faultless accessory that goes with anything.
Unleash Your Adaptability: Stylish Functionalism
Small design pouch bags offer remarkable utility. Despite their small size, There's enough room for your phone, keys, wallet, and cosmetics. Thanks to the well-thought-out compartmentalization that makes finding what you need a breeze, these pouch bags are a must-have for any fast errand or evening out.
Perfect In Every Way: Golf Shoes And Pouch Bags
It's indisputable that high-end golf shoes and chic pouches go hand in hand. Both contribute to a woman's sense of sophistication and grace, whether on or off the golf course. By choosing pieces from the same collection, you may put together an outfit that is both polished and bold.
From The Field To The Runway: Smoothly Shifting Gears
The elegance of these pair is in how easily they can go from athletic to fashionable. Golfers can safely transition from the course to an after-round social gathering, thanks to the seamless coordination of their footwear and small design pouch bags. This adaptability exemplifies the development of high-end golf apparel, which has evolved to meet the needs of today's busy women.
Conclusion
The perfect combination of form and function, luxury golf shoes for women and compact design pouch bags are a joy to see. These accessories are made with the discriminating preferences of women in mind, with sophisticated designs, high-quality materials, and an emphasis on performance. These high-end items usher in a new era of golfing refinement and complexity as the industry continues to develop.
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Where to Buy Cheap Sneakers in St Petersburg
Whether you're looking to improve your running routine, spruce up your golf game or get your favorite sports team's gear, DICK'S has everything you need for your next adventure. Shop a huge selection of shoes, fitness equipment and activewear in store today!
Getting the right shoes for your feet isn't always easy. Fortunately, the friendly employees at DICK'S can help you find the perfect pair to meet your needs.
Saint Petersburg sneakers for sale
If you’re looking for a new pair of running shoes, you’ve come to the right place. We carry the latest running shoes from top brands, including Nike, Adidas and Under Armour. If you’re a runner or are just looking for a new pair of sneakers to wear with your favorite outfits, we have you covered. Our knowledgeable staff can help you find the perfect shoe for your unique needs. Looking more visit купить недорогие кроссовки СПб.
We also have a wide assortment of fitness equipment and other cool stuff to help you get your workout on. Our aforementioned fitness gear includes the latest in workout gadgets, including activity trackers and smartwatches. There are even some high-tech options to keep you in touch with your friends and family from anywhere in the world. Besides sneakers, you’ll also find the best in women’s clothing and men’s clothes as well as small electrics, bedding and luggage. We even have a buy online, pick up in store (BOPUS) program that lets you avoid shipping fees and delivery delays by picking up your order at the local DICK’S.
Legendary shoes are available to everyone
Whether you’re into sports, music, or fashion, there are shoes for everyone in St. Petersburg. From upscale outlet malls to local outlets, there are deals that will make you smile.
In 1983, Reebok introduced the Reebok Classic, a style that helped to ignite a sneaker culture. Hip-hop DJs, MCs, and breakdancing artists embraced this shoe. But it was the South Bronx’s pioneering graffiti artists who made them iconic.
To celebrate the 30-year anniversary of the Reebok Classic, Tampa artist duo Illsol (Tony Krol and Michelle Sawyer) teamed up with Omar Ghanem, owner of Burn Rubber Sneaker Boutique, to create an exhibit called “Classics” that included 19 pairs of white Reebok shoes transformed by a range of graffiti artists who were at the forefront of full train bombing in that era. The list includes legendary street artists Cope 2, Blade, and Terrible T-Kid 170, as well as contemporary legends like Lady Pink.
With such a broad scope of art, the shoes are not only collectable, but they also represent a unique perspective on art. Having a mix of subcultures represented in one piece of work is a great way to broaden your horizons and encourage others to explore different worlds.
Buy NIKE AIR FORCE 1 sneakers
The Nike Air Force 1 is one of the most iconic sneakers of all time. Designed by Bruce Kilgore, it was launched in 1982 and became a staple of sportswear culture. Featuring a unique design, these shoes were praised for their comfortable fit and high performance.
Originally released in low and high tops, the sneaker gained popularity amongst the hip-hop community as well. Its comfy fit and sleek design made it a streetwear icon that could up your game on the court or in the streets.
Its traction was revolutionary as the first basketball shoe to feature Nike Air technology. Using pressurized air in a flexible bag, the technology enabled a tough yet flexible shoe that could be worn during sports or everyday activities.
For its 35th anniversary, the Nike Air Force 1 was reworked by five creatives including Travis Scott, Don C, Acronym, Kareem 'Biggs' Burke and Off White designer Virgil Abloh. They reworked the classic white on white colourway in a range of different styles.
The Nike Air Force 1s were also spotted on the feet of lead character Jax Teller in the FX series Sons of Anarchy. The AF1s were branded with the phrase “Jax Wears Air Force 1’s” and were a constant presence throughout the show.
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One Foot in the Golden Life
Pairing: rich kid!renjun x caddie!reader Genre: rich kid AU, university au, romance, slight angst, mature content Length: 9.7k Summary: this is the story of a boy who is constantly pushed down by his father, a girl who just wants to not live paycheck to paycheck, and how they met on a golf course. Warnings/Details: includes mentions of other NCT members, female reader, swearing, inaccurate depiction of golf, acts of sexual harassment towards the reader, mature content (unprotected sex, coming inside, oral [female receiving])
a/n: a big thank you to @insomni-writing for beta reading this ♡ also, if you are a minor, please beware that there is mature content in this fic!
You thought it would be the perfect opportunity to work at the most well-known country club in the state, but really the only thing your job brought you was perpetual cold to your hands and feet, and entangled your simple life with one of the youngest and richest bachelors at your university.
The only place on top of Mt. Carla is the Augusta Country Club, and it is a sight to see by the regular people who gaze up at it from the city below, like mortals looking up into the Gods’ chamber. The first time you went up the mountain for your job interview at the club, you got lost and were almost late. Thankfully, you didn’t crash your car on the winding roads, and got the job as well.
The Augusta Country Club is equipped with the largest and most expensive golf course in the region, but also has Michilin approved restaurants and the finest saunas and gym equipment any CEO could ask for. Those are usually the type of people that have club memberships: CEO’s, congress men and women, top-notch lawyers, and maybe the odd business owner that made it big enough to afford the price tag.
When you took up the job as a caddie, you had an idea of what you were getting yourself into. You’ve only been working for a month, but there are already a few regular golf players that prefer you as their caddie, which in your book is a success considering the type of high profile people that come to relax here.
However, today is different.
You can sense it when Kara and Mina, your coworkers who have been working here for a year longer than you, walk towards you and your friend, Lia, before your shift today. Mina has a small stack of info cards in her hands and they both hold smug smiles on their faces. The info cards have everything a caddie needs to know about who they’ll be working for that shift, and by the looks of it, today’s game will have a good match up.
“I’m going to be Mr. Huang’s son’s caddie. Don’t even fight me on this, you know I’ll win.” Kara states boldly as the two girls stop in front of you, snatching an info card out of Mina’s hand when she holds them up like she’s playing a card game, flashing the photos and names on the cards at you.
“I call dibs on Mr. Lee’s son.” Mina hums, not even bothering to keep up the act that they just want to be good caddies. “You two can have the old men.” She smiles tightly, shoving the other two info cards into Lia’s grasp and turning on her heel to walk away with Kara.
Considering you don’t even know what they’re talking about, you have no right to be mad at them. There is more confusion clouding your mind than anger at their rudeness. However, Lia does not share the same sentiment.
“I’ll shove these info cards up their-” Lia fumes, her volume rising as the sentence went on, and you quickly pulled her out of ear shot, around a corner by the bathrooms. “-stuck up two faced asses!”
“Lia…” You mutter, her wording making you shake your head at how unstable her temper is, “They’ve been working here for a lot longer than we have, just let them have those clients. Either way, what’s it to you?”
“What’s it to me? ___, they’re talking about Lee Jeno and Huang Renjun. I know I told you about them before.” Lia states like she expects you to have those two names tattooed on the front lobe of your brain already.
“I think I remember them…. They go to our University, right?” You try to regurgitate your friend’s rambles from months ago out of your head.
“Yeah, business department.” She sighs dreamily, as if the business department is the sexiest thing on campus. “This might be our only chance to shoot our shot.” You can’t help but grimace a bit.
“It can be your chance to shoot your shot. Leave me out of this.” You randomly grab an info card out of Lia’s hands, turning it around to see Mr. Huang Lijun’s photo staring back at you. You send Lia one last look, walking around her to go change in the dressing rooms.
“Aw, you’re no fun.” You hear her whine, her footsteps echo through the hallway as she comes up behind you. She almost knocks you into the wall from how forcefully she grabs onto your arm and swings it back and forth like you’re two little kids on your way to the playground.
“Maybe we can shoot our shot at the old men?” You and Lia stop walking, turning to face each other for a moment of silence. You blink at each other as if you’re both considering it, before erupting into laughter at the ridiculous thought and continue walking down the hallway.
You and Lia constantly joke around about finding rich sugar daddies at work to pay for your college tuition, but both of you know you’ll never actually commit to the idea fully. Neither of you will admit it, but you both know you don’t have the guts to do something like that.
By the time you, Lia, and your other coworkers change into uniform and gather your supplies for the Lee vs. Huang game, it’s already 10am. The air is crisp and cool, the signs of fall creep along your skin and taint the deep green trees in light oranges and yellows.
Despite the chill, you and your coworkers still wear skirts, long sleeve v-necks, and puffy vests; the only thing keeping your feet warm is a pair of short white socks and tennis shoes. You don’t mind the chill knowing that once the game starts you’ll be moving around enough to get warm. You stop thinking about your cold toes as soon as the door of the country club opens and the Lees and Huangs walk out.
The first time you lay eyes on Huang Renjun, you think your heart might stop.
You know it’s him because he walks close to his father as they make their way to where you’re standing by the golf carts. He has obviously dyed blonde color, his dark roots proof of that; it’s neatly gelled back in an effortless way with the light wind blowing a few of the locks gently as if an angel is personally moving them for him. His white jacket and black pants are slim and look like they cost more than all of your college textbooks this semester. He walks with his head high, his pretty, pink lips set in a straight line, and his almond eyes gentle.
Okay, so... maybe you understand the hype now.
“Good evening, ladies.” Mr. Lee announces, looking at you and your coworkers. You all politely introduce yourself and state who you’ll be caddying for.
Huang Lijun isn’t as tall as his son, but he looks to be more lively than Renjun, even at his age. He has a permanent smile on his lips and you can feel a friendly demeanor radiating from him when you approach.
“Good Morning, sir. Let me take those off of your hands.” You politely grab the bag of clubs from him, feeling shy as his gaze doesn’t leave your face the entire time.
“You’re new here, right? I feel like I would remember you if I saw you before.” You’re surprised when he suddenly pinches your cheek, and he laughs at your shocked face. An unsettled feeling plants itself at the bottom of your stomach at the unwarranted touch.
“I’ve only been working here for a month, sir.”
“I think I’ll be coming around here more often, then.” He winks at you and turns to go sit in the front seat of the golf cart. You can’t help but let the feeling at the bottom of your stomach grow at how the older man looks at you. You definitely misjudged his “friendly” demeanor. Your eyes can’t help but glance at Renjun, who’s standing a few feet away from the whole interaction. He gives you a blank stare before turning and following his father.
In the past few weeks, you had gotten many lustful smiles and lewd gazes at your bare legs, but also many dollars in tips just in one morning by letting those smiles and gazes happen. The need to make ends meet justifies it all, and the cash you earn at the end of every shift only fuels this need.
The ride from the club’s main building to the first hole is short, so you quickly recompose yourself. You still have a job to do— a job you’re being paid lots of money for. You believe in your strong will to put up with whatever antics Mr. Huang pulls for the next few hours. Upon arrival at the first hole, you pull the bag of golf clubs out of the cart and follow in Mr. Huang’s quick footsteps, suddenly feeling sweaty from the exercise you’re getting by carrying these heavy clubs. When your group reaches the first hole, you set the bag down on the ground and press your hand over your face, but Mr. Huang’s voice startles you.
“Woah, there.” You jump and face him. “Those clubs cost more than my car, and unlike my car, they don’t deserve to be on the ground, darling.”
“Yes, sir. I apologize.” You smile shyly and pick up the clubs from the ground, your shoulders already straining to keep them up. ‘They weigh as much as a car,’ you huff.
This is going to be a long game.
“You kids can clean the carts today,” Mina suddenly throws a keychain at Lia’s face, she barely catches it before it hits her, “I have plans.”
“Me, too.” Kara quickly says, following after Mina as they both walk away. The game ended right at lunchtime (the Lees won) and now you and your coworkers are back at the club. It’s supposed to be everyone’s job to clean the golf carts after they’ve been used, but it looks like today it’ll just be you and Lia… Maybe.
“___, please. I’m going to be late to the cafe, my boss there is already mad at me.” Lia turns to you and begs with her hands clasped in front of her chest, eyes pleading and feet bouncing. You sigh; you’re hungry and your muscles are sore, and all you want to do is go home as quickly as you can. Still, you roll your eyes and take the golf cart keys from her, making her face crack open into a smile as she hugs you quickly.
“I’ll bring you coffee on Monday!” She screams at you as she practically runs away, leaving you with two golf carts to clean. You sluggishly begin, crawling into the cart the Huangs were sitting in when you find a small notebook laying on one of the seats. Picking it up to examine it, you find out it’s your university’s yearly planner, a book that everyone gets at the beginning of every academic year. Along the binder reads “Huang Renjun” and your eyes widen, immediately looking up to glance at the direction that Renjun walked off to a while ago.
Your legs move quickly through the corridors of the club, moving past changing rooms, saunas, and bathrooms, the planner tightly clutched in your hand. Your head is on a swivel and your lower lip is stuck between your teeth, until you hear a door open and slam shut behind you, making you turn your head to catch Renjun walking out of a changing room.
“Mr. Huang!” You call out.. Renjun freezes at the name, spinning on his heel to see you walking towards him.
“Sorry to disturb you, but you left your planner on the golf cart.” You hold it out for him, but he doesn’t take it.
“How do you know it’s a planner? Did you look through it?” You blink at him, stunned, and then glance down at the notebook. You’re surprised by the sudden questions and at the same time annoyed that Renjun accused you of snooping through his things so quickly. The image you had of him earlier, graceful, classy, and attractive, slips out of your mind as he stares down at you. However, this is the first time he’s directly talking to you, and you can’t help the spark that ignites in your belly from the roughness in his voice. It’s higher-pitched, but unpolished and jagged as he speaks with you.
“No. I go to the same University. I have the same one.” You explain. Renjun’s stare turns into shock.
“Really? Which department?”
“Fine Arts. I study Studio Art.” At first you think that you’re seeing things, but after blinking, you can guarantee that Renjun has jealousy painted on his face. It’s so sour that he looks away, trying to preoccupy his hands by fiddling with his bag. “So, are you going to take this, or…?”
“Yeah,” The bitterness drips from his tone, but you have a feeling it’s not directed at you, “Thank you for returning it.” He finally accepts it and turns to his bag, taking out his wallet. The cards inside look thick and heavy; memberships to places you’ll never step foot in and credit cards with limits you could never even imagine. Your pride tells you that you don’t need anything he could give you, so you silently turn around and walk away.
Renjun shuffles through some crisp 10’s and 20’s, but when he looks up to give you the tip, you’re already down the hallway and halfway out the door. You have golf carts to clean.
The next time you see Renjun is a week after the last game. The chilly weather remains, along with the useless uniform you have to wear, but this time around you’re not Mr. Huang’s caddie, you’re Renjun’s.
Kara walks next to you with Mr. Huang’s heavy golf clubs, her lips straight and head turned away from you to show her annoyance at how the caddie match up situation went this week. You’re sure to get an earful about this for at least the next few days, but you kind of like this revenge that fate dealt Kara. Either way, it’s not like there’s anything you can do about the match up. Renjun requested you to be his caddie this week, and you weren’t going to risk your bosses being angry with you by denying the request.
“Driver.” Renjun’s voice pulls you into the game. You pull out the correct golf club and put it into his awaiting hand, your fingertips brushing with his. “Aren’t you cold?” The words shock you, considering they’re the first words Renjun spoke to you today other than commands for golf clubs.
“I-I’m fine, Mr. Huang.” You respond promptly.
“Don’t call me that.” His tone is icy, and he quickly realizes how unnecessary it is to bite at you like that, “Just call me Renjun.” His father walks back from his shot, looking very smug. Renjun’s face is calm as he trades spots with his father and prepares for his first swing of the day, correcting his posture and loosening his limbs.
You remember the first time you saw him, how elegant and poised he looked. Your cold hands break into a sweat as your chest heats up from the quick beating of your heart. Renjun has only been icy and accusing towards you so far, yet you still feel warm while thinking about him. There has to be something wrong with you.
“Doesn’t my son look like he knows what he’s doing?” Mr. Huang asks from beside you, a small, unnerving smile on his lips.
“Yes, sir.” You reply back with your own, more innocent, smile.
“I taught him everything he knows about golf…. And women.” Mr. Huang leans into you, turning his chest to face you so that his breath is hitting your cheek. You can’t help but swallow to relieve your dry and cold throat, keeping your eyes forward as Renjun swings his club back and forth a bit in preparation.
“Yes, sir.” The only thought on your mind is to stop this man from stepping closer.
“Is that the only thing you can say?”
Renjun swings his arm back, breathing in as he keeps his eyes on the small white ball and his hopes in the green before him. Mr. Huang’s right hand is warm on your waist, but you would give anything to freeze right now.
A sharp crack ripples through the air as Renjun hits the golf ball and sends it flying into the golf course. His eyes are not where the ball lands, but instead on where his father touches you.
Renjun’s mom died when he was not even three days old.
He never got to meet her— to lay on her chest and hold her finger with his whole hand. He’ll never know what advice she would’ve given him when he got his first girlfriend, and he’ll never know how she would’ve reacted to him crashing his first car when he was 17. He only knows that his mom would’ve been there for him through all of that, unlike his father, who was not.
Renjun has had “mothers” through his life; three, to be exact. The first was when he was 5 years old, and she quickly asked for a divorce after Renjun’s dad went on a three month business trip and she didn’t hear from him the whole time. The second “mother” was a bit more mature than the first and with a lot more time on her hands. She wanted to shape 9 year old Renjun into a perfect student, which was something Renjun’s father appreciated, but still divorced her for “being too strong-headed.” Renjun only met his third mother twice when he was 13: once at the wedding and the second time at her funeral. He didn’t ask any questions, he wasn’t very interested in the first place.
These were the type of people Renjun spent his life around, but they really weren’t his mothers. The only similarity he had with those women was his father, and he treated them as poorly as he treated Renjun. That’s why when Renjun looks at you, cowering away from the very man who is his only link to family, he feels sick.
When is his dad going to stop being a fucking predator? How young does he want his next conquest to be? Will Renjun’s next mom be the same age as him? Something swirls in the pit of his stomach when he watches his father and it takes a moment for him to figure out what it is: jealousy. He’s not sure why he’s feeling jealous over someone he just met last week, but the feeling engulfs his whole chest and it burns him to his spot.
Renjun doesn’t even notice that he swung his golf club or that the golf ball went somewhere far into the green, probably an overshot. He only sees you, afraid of the man touching you but not stepping away. Why aren’t you stepping away?
“Nice job, Renjun.” His best friend, Jeno, claps a hand on his back as he steps up, hitting Renjun back into reality and forcing him to walk towards you. As Renjun approaches, his father slyly takes his hand away, and Renjun notices how you let out a relieved sigh. Giving you back his driver, Renjun strategically stands between you and his father, pretending to watch Jeno swing.
“Good job… Renjun.” You whisper, unsure about calling him by his first name so informally.
“Thank you.” Renjun sends a side glance to his father to see the displeased look on his face. “How was that, Dad?” Renjun hopes that maybe he can remind his father of why he’s here (to win against the Lees this week, not to feel up a girl 30 years younger than him) but in this moment, his father is acting like a 5 year old in the middle of a silent tantrum, not a 50 year old who runs the most successful construction company in the country.
“I’ve taught you better than that.” Renjun is sure they’re not talking about golf anymore, the authoritative tone in his father’s voice sends a lightning bolt of surprise and slight fear down Renjun’s back. He hates how he gets scared, he hates how his father can control him. The fury churns in the pit of his stomach as he accepts his father’s words with a bow of his head.
One day, Renjun swears he won’t submit anymore.
After the game ended with the Lees winning once again, you, Lia, and your other coworkers convene at the golf carts after the clients leave to change inside the club.
“You ladies know the drill.” Kara throws both sets of golf cart keys at you before walking off with Mina. You push Lia towards the entrance of the building before she even has a chance to turn around and open her mouth.
“You should get to the cafe before your boss throws another fit.” Lia turns back to face you, her jaw slightly slack and her eyes shining.
“You’re seriously the best. I love you.”
“Yeah, yeah, just give me a few extra shots in my coffee on Monday.” Lia laughs at that, grabbing your face between her two small, manicured hands and kissing you on each cheek before hopping off inside. You can’t help but be amused at her antics, turning to the golf carts in front of you to start cleaning.
“They make you clean the carts by yourself?” The voice startles you, not because you weren’t expecting it but because it’s Renjun’s. You turn your head over your shoulder, he’s standing just a few feet away still in his golfing gear from earlier.
“Uh, not usually, no. But my coworkers haven’t been happy with me lately.” You explain, fully turning to him and crossing your arms over your chest to tuck your cold hands into your sides.
“The ones who have been working here for a while?” You nod as an answer, and Renjun nods back in understanding, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. “They’ve been trying to get with me and my best friend for a while...” Renjun trails off when he sees your eyebrows raise at the comment, “... But that’s not what I came here to talk about.”
“Oh? What are you here for?” The conversation has gotten too informal for a worker and their client to be having, but you kind of like talking to Renjun in this casual setting.
“I realized that the past few times we’ve talked I’ve been such a dick.” He laughs lightly as he remembers, “I wanted to apologize for that. I wasn’t in a good mood last week and this morning, and I ended up pushing it on you.”
Renjun feels lots of emotions when it comes to you, despite only having this one proper conversation with you. He feels envy towards you for being able to study something that he desperately wants to. He feels guilt when he remembers how quickly he made you into a thief when you were only trying to return his belongings, and he feels so many other secondary and tertiary emotions in between. His head is full when he looks at you. He finally feels like he’s thinking about something, not just doing the same day to day motions in a constant cycle of ‘when will this end?’
“You’re apologizing?” You ask, stunned when he nods his head in confirmation. Sincere apologies are important to you. You believe there are not enough of them in this world anymore, and his gentle almond eyes are too wholehearted and warm for you in this cold weather. Your heart feels full looking at him, and you curse at yourself in your head for being swayed like this.
“I also have a question… You mentioned you’re majoring in Studio Art and I was wondering if, maybe, you could let me into one of the studios after a class this week? I’ve been needing a quiet place to work since my house has been busy lately.” One of the hands that was in Renjun’s pocket moves to matte down his sideburns while he glances at his shoes. “Was that too forward? Sorry, I just know that you can’t get into a studio without a passcode and you’re the only person I know who’s in Studio Art.” Renjun explains after you stare for a while, blinking at him.
“You’re an artist?” You finally ask, Renjun giving you a weak ‘yeah’ in response. A part of you wants to say no, that it’ll be weird to do something like this for him when you’ve only known him for less than 2 weeks and up until this point, you’ve only been in a worker-client relationship. However, you’re curious about what he’s like outside of this setting, especially what he’s like when his father has no possibility of appearing, since that seems to be the factor that turns his mood up or down.
“Sure. Come by studio 3 after 6pm on Wednesday and I’ll let you in, but... I heard Mr. Lee already scheduled a game for next weekend?” Renjun nods, “Then in return, you can win that game. It’s embarrassing always being on the losing team.” You smile playfully at the end to let him know you’re only joking.
“Deal.” Renjun sends a smile back of the same caliber, holding out a hand to shake with yours. If you thought you were affected by Renjun’s nice presence, his hand in yours sends you into another realm. His touch is warm from staying indoors and from keeping his hands in his pockets, and they contrast to your cold skin. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when your hands connect, turning your hand in his grip to look at your knuckles. “Are you sure you’re not cold? Your hands are freezing.”
“I’ll be okay. I just don’t have any good gloves to wear while working.” He huffs, small traces of white smoke leaves his mouth as he digs through his pockets.
“Wear these.” He replaces his hand in yours with a pair of his own gloves, “Your hands are precious, they shouldn’t be freezing.” Before Renjun can get embarrassed by his own words, he shoves his hands back into his pockets and turns on his heel, walking away, “I’ll see you on Wednesday!”
A knock on the studio doors shakes you away from staring at your painting, making you turn to look at who it is. Renjun peaks through the small window and waves when you make eye contact. You get up to open the door, almost forgetting that today is the day you agreed to let Renjun into your studio.
… Okay, that’s a lie. You definitely remembered that you’re supposed to meet Renjun, but you keep trying to convince yourself that you’re not excited about seeing him outside of that stuffy country club.
“Hey, sorry if I startled you.” Is the first thing he says when you open the door. He’s dressed in slacks, a dress shirt with a sweater over it, and a long coat over that. His nose and cheeks are slightly red from the rough wind outside and his supplies are clutched to his chest.
“Oh, you’re fine. I was just deep in thought.” Something about the studio makes both of you speak in hushed tones. No one else is here, but you feel the need to maintain the peace and quiet the room naturally holds. You and Renjun make your way to where you’re set up, he puts his things down on an easel to your left and takes off his coat, watching you from his peripheral vision.
Those uniforms they make you wear at work are just for show, Renjun knows that well, but that doesn’t stop him from appreciating you in the tight vest and little skirt. However right now, he likes your laid back look consisting of loose jeans and a layered shirt, he thinks it matches you.
“I was going to leave when you got here, but I think I’ll just finish this and head out.” You comment, aimlessly waving at your project.
“Please, stay as long as you need to. This is your studio, I don’t want to kick you out.” He laughs and licks his bottom lip. It’s breathtaking how innocent and nice his smile looks on his face. His eyes scrunch together to form laugh lines and his cheeks rise, he truly looks pretty when he smiles. You think this is the first time you’ve seen him like this.
You mumble back with a mixture of words that probably didn’t make sense and turn back to your work, leaving the room to continue with its peacefulness and quiet. However, Renjun’s presence next to you is too big to ignore. There are so many things you want to know about him and you have no excuse as to why you’re so curious.
“How about a game while we work?” You suggest.
“Sure… How about 20 questions?” It’s like he read your mind, so you smile and nod at his idea.
“You can go first.” You suggest.
“Okay, uh… Why do you work at a golf course if you’re majoring in Studio Art? Shouldn’t you be working at a, I don’t know, museum?” The question catches you off guard and Renjun notices how you stop painting, your brush and your hand floating in the air as you think, “Oh, sorry, is that too personal?”
“No, no… It’s just, normally, the first question people ask in a game of 20 questions is something like ‘what’s your favorite color’ or ‘what’s your sign’.” Renjun lets out a choked and embarrassed laugh, ducking his head down to look away from you. You can tell he’s about to change his question, so you quickly go back to painting and speak before he can.
“I did apply to work at several museums. I didn’t get any jobs, so I had to look elsewhere and Augusta was hiring. I know it’s not very fitting, but it makes good money and rich people know my name, even if it’s for just a few hours.” Renjun nods at your answer as if he could ever understand the idea of being poor, but the insight into your decision brings a fact to light that Renjun wasn’t 100% aware of before: you’re not like him, you need money.
“Don’t you hate the way people look at you there?” The words tumble out of Renjun’s lips faster than he can process the weight they carry. He turns to face you with guilt pooling in his eyes and his mouth opening and closing to find some words to correct the situation.
“No, I don’t like it.” You surprise him with your quick response, “But people like you don’t understand what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck, to have to worry about how to pay the bills every month for years on end, always on your toes about money. I bet you think I’m cheap and—”
“No.” Renjun cuts you off promptly before you can continue, “Don’t make me into a jerk. I’m not like that. But the fact that that is the first thing you thought of worries me.” Your eyes widen at that, prompting him to elaborate. “Doesn’t that mean that’s how you think of yourself? Maybe not on the outside, but subconsciously. Sure, I won’t ever be able to understand how you live, but I wish you would not look at yourself as cheap and think of yourself as… beautiful.” Renjun lets the last words linger on his tongue, saying it quietly as if to not startle you.
You stare at him, your paintbrush resting in your hand and your back slouched as you watch him watch you. This is not the type of conversation you thought you’d be having with Renjun tonight, but you have to admit he makes a point. Eventually, you turn to your painting and stare at it some more, making Renjun turn and continue his own work.
“Ah, I asked two questions in a row.” He suddenly breaks the tense atmosphere, making you sigh as you remember you’re just playing a game, “You can ask two questions.”
He allows and relaxes when he sees you go back to painting.
“If you like to draw, why are you a business major?” Now it’s Renjun’s turn to freeze. Maybe if he did ask what your favorite color was he wouldn’t have had to endure this question from you, but he feels like he should answer it since it’s of equal weight to the one he asked you.
“It wasn’t my choice. I will most likely take my father’s place in his company and I need to at least know the basics before that happens.” You nod slowly. He looks so calm when he’s focused on drawing, but it’s not the same calm that you see on his face when he’s playing golf. You turn away before you get caught staring.
“Is that why your mood always changes when your dad is around?”
“Is it that obvious…” He trails off and you nod, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this out loud, but… It’s like everytime I’m around him, or at his office, or at home, my mind goes blank. I don’t feel like talking or thinking at all.” As he speaks, he sets down his utensils and turns to you, making continuous eye contact as he explains. You find yourself feeling comfortable at how easily he’s talking to you about such a deep subject.
“It sounds like… you’re angry.” You turned to face him now too, your paintbrush settled onto your canvas and your full attention on him, “My dad is like that. He gets so angry sometimes that he’s calm. No yelling or fighting, just silence. That’s how I know I messed up when he gets like that.” You nod, remembering all the times he’s been calmly mad at you.
“I don’t know… It’s confusing to me.” He straightens his back and stares at your foot as it moves around aimlessly. “What do I do?” He asks into the air, as if his pencil would suddenly start talking to him like a therapist.
“Just do what makes you happy.” Renjun’s glance over at you makes a smile pull at your lips, “I know it’s easier said than done. But you already know what it is that’ll make you happy, and that’s half of the battle. Why bottle it up?”
Renjun doesn’t know how he’ll ever get the courage to tell his father these things, but the way you’re looking at him as if he can do anything, he starts to feel tingles of confidence trickle into him.
“Oh, and why did you pick me to be your caddie this past weekend?”
“Well…” Renjun plays with his pencil. What is he supposed to say? He doesn’t want you to carry around his father’s heavy golf clubs? He doesn’t like the way his father touches you and gets jealous over it for some unknown reason? Yeah, he’s not going to say.
“Just because… I wanted you next to me.” The way he says it makes it sound so simple and true, but your heart drops to your stomach and springs back up going at 100 miles per hour. You can barely stop your hand from shaking as you pick up your brush, and it’s almost like you can’t see in front of you from the thrill of his words.
“Hey,” Renjun suddenly drops his pencil and turns to you, looking a bit confused and slightly upset, “Didn’t you ask three questions?”
“We’re letting the Lees win again today.” Renjun is in the middle of pulling up the zipper of his jacket when his father drops the news. Renjun’s footsteps stutter slightly at his father’s words and he stops walking next to the older man.
“Again?” He asks as he already thinks up an apology to tell you later when he loses.
“Yes, I need Mr. Lee to be happy when I bring up the new contract to him later in the sauna.” Renjun sighs and continues to walk next to his father. It’s the next weekend, and the third Lee vs. Huang game is starting in just a few minutes.
Renjun won’t lie, purposefully losing to his best friend and his dad every week is not the greatest stroke to Renjun’s ego, especially since Jeno won’t let it down around his other friends.
“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Lijun swivels on his heel to look at his son, “Have you been requesting for ___ to be your caddie?”
The questions stuns Renjun, making it hard to answer so his father takes it as a yes.
“Well stop it. Dad wants to have some fun.” He claps a hand on Renjun’s back and smiles. In the past, Renjun would’ve just rolled his eyes and let his father do whatever he wants, but this time his blood boils. He feels true anger when his father struts away with the intentions of doing whatever he wants to someone Renjun cares about. He can barely move his feet after the old man, his mind cloudy as everyone makes it to the golf carts.
“Let’s have a good game today, Mr. Huang, don’t make it too easy to beat you.” Mr. Lee jokes around and the two old men laugh as they settle into their own golf carts. Renjun walks up to his cart and you wave to him, the white gloves he gave you last week snugly on your hands. Renjun thinks his anger is what spurs him into doing what he does next.
He steps close to you, leaning into your ear and wrapping his hand around your covered ones with his thumb rubbing on your exposed wrist, “Keep these on for me, babe. I don’t want you to be cold.”
The amount of jaws that drops after Renjun’s words makes him bite down his smirk and slide into the front seat of the golf cart, pretending to not see the daggers his father is throwing at him with his eyes.
Your heart beats so quickly and loudly you’re sure Kara can hear it next to you if she wasn’t busy huffing about what Renjun just did. Sitting in the back seat of the golf cart, you watch the back of Renjun’s head on the way to the first hole. What got into Renjun? Why did he all of a sudden call you ‘babe’ and get so close? Not that you’re opposed to it, you’re just shocked.
The game begins once you reach the first hole, and the Huang’s put up a good fight throughout the entire game, keeping the Lees on their toes and the score sheet even. Everytime Renjun comes back from a shot, you smile at him and tell him good job, which earns you a pat on the back from him that warms you up from the inside out.
Renjun can tell his father is getting more and more annoyed with him; how Renjun is keeping you as far from his father as he possibly can, the gentle touches on your waist that you welcome wholeheartedly compared to the ones Mr. Huang would lay on you before. He likes how angry his father gets, especially knowing that he can’t do anything about it right now. Not to mention, you seem to be enjoying Renjun’s attention, which just adds to his confidence.
Now, your group arrives at the last hole of the game. The Lees step up and swing, setting their total score to 357. All Renjun and his father have to do is move the ball around a bit more to get their score to be higher and the Lees will win the game. Mr. Huang is up first, acting clumsy so that the ball doesn’t make it into the hole and brings the game to Renjun.
As he sets up his posture, his hands suddenly go stiff. This shot is so easy to make, he has made this exact hole several times. He breathes in and out deeply, deciding on if he should throw the game like his father said he should, or give his one last ‘fuck you’ to his Dad.
He glances at you and makes eye contact; you nod your head and smile a bit as if to say ‘go ahead, we all know you can do this.’ Renjun then grips his golf club and swings it back to effortlessly hit the golf ball, rolling it along the green and perfectly into the hole.
You and the other caddies clap for the perfectly executed shot and Jeno and his father come up to Renjun to shake hands. They don’t look upset, instead they look pretty happy for Renjun. However, Renjun’s father is deathly silent, not even congratulating Renjun on his win. Renjun wasn’t expecting a whole ceremony for him, but it does feel nice to put his father down a peg or two today, and that’s the thought that fills Renjun’s head as everyone rides back to the country club.
While getting out of the golf cart, Renjun attempts to turn back to you but is promptly pulled away by the back of his jacket by his father. Renjun yelps and pulls away, but that doesn’t stop Lijun from grabbing onto his son’s arm instead and pulling him inside.
“What was that? I specifically told you to lose the game and you did the exact opposite. How am I supposed to talk to Mr. Lee now?” Renjun’s father fumes, his low voice belting out into the corridor and making some of the passing staff turn their heads.
“That’s not my problem.” Renjun shrugs and his father stops shaking, stepping closer to his son.
“Excuse me?” He asks with menace dripping from his tongue.
“I said, that’s not my problem.” Renjun is fired up. He doesn’t see a way out of this now, no way his behavior is being excused, so might as well go all in.
“You did it for that caddie, ___, right?” His father squints his eyes and turns his head slightly. When Renjun doesn’t answer, Lijun laughs in his face, “It looks like I’m right.”
“What?” Renjun asks dumbly.
“It’s okay. You’re just a boy and you can make some mistakes over a girl, we’ve all been there once or twice.” Lijun fixes Renjun’s jacket and pats his shoulder, his angry disposition turning passive. “Besides, you can’t do much for that girl anyway. Is a ball in a hole really all she deserves?”
“I won the game because I could. I won it because that’s what I wanted.” Renjun states, his blood beginning to boil once again when his father says he doesn’t deserve you. What is he thinking? Does he actually think he has a chance with you? He can keep dreaming.
“We can’t always do whatever we want. There are consequences we have to face for doing whatever we want. Are you ready to face the consequences?” At the question, Renjun is reminded about the words you told him Wednesday night.
‘Just do what makes you happy,’ Those simple words are so hard to turn into reality. Renjun wants to be happy so bad. He wants to be away from this man and he wants to be closer to you. The consequences? Sure, he’ll deal with it all if it means he can stop living in the personal hell his father set up for him. Renjun pushes his father away a bit and steps out of the trap his father pushed him into, making Lijun’s eyes widen.
“Yeah, I’m ready.” Renjun says and turns around, walking back towards the exit of the building.
“Hey, where are you going?” His father shouts after him.
“To do the thing that I want to do the most.” He yells back and walks around the corner, out of sight from his father. Renjun practically runs through the hallways to get back outside and run to you, but you surprise him by greeting him by the saunas. He stops in his steps and you smile as you walk up to him.
“Hey, I just wanted to tell you that you did really well today. I know I said I wanted you to win last week, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” You laugh.
“Thanks.” Renjun simply says, afraid of what else could come out if he keeps talking.
“Oh, I also want to give you these back.” You dig out Renjun’s gloves from your pocket, holding them out. This is it. This is the moment Renjun will start to do whatever makes him happy, whatever he wants.
And what he wants right now is you.
He quickly takes the gloves and then tightly grips the wrist of your outstretched hand, leading you down the hallway and around some corner. He hears you exclaim a small ‘woah’ but you let him guide you into a sauna, the door closing tightly behind both of you.
There’s no one else in the room, just the stuffy steam that floats in the small space between you two. Renjun has a tight grip on the gloves you gave back to him and his other hand runs through his hair and messes up the perfect form it held.
“Tell me to stop.” He demands, looking straight into your eyes.
“What?”
“Tell me to stop right now.” He takes a step forward, his eyes full to the brim with lust and his hands shaking with how much he’s holding himself together. You’ve barely been in the room for a minute, but your clothes are already sticking to you from the intense heat.
“I don’t understand,” You reply back as he keeps moving toward you. You take small steps back in return, “I don’t know what I’m stopping you from.” Half of you is playing dumb right now; you know what Renjun wants from you just by the look in his eyes. The other half just wants to hear him say it himself
“I’ll fuck you the way you deserve. Right here, right now.” Renjun’s voice is too angelic to say such nasty words, but he growls them out like he’s a tainted angel. You’re pressed against the wooden wall of the sauna now, Renjun just a step away. You lean into him slightly and rip the gloves out of his hand to throw them to the side.
“Do it.”
It’s all the permission Renjun needs to feverishly connect his lips to yours.
The action is so sudden, you don’t remember how Renjun got close to you so quickly. Despite his forcefulness before, his lips melt into you like chocolate melting over a fire, so hot and delicious that you just want more. His hands hold the sides of your face, pushing back your hair and his body pushing you back into the wall.
He sucks on your bottom lip, softly biting afterwards and making you let out a whimper, and then a moan when his thigh pushes between your legs and further presses you against the wall. Amidst the kissing, you find the zipper of his expensive jacket, unzip it, and pull the piece of clothing off. Afterwards, you pull his shirt off and break the kiss while you’re at it.
“I’ve been thinking about you in this skirt since….” Renjun hums at the thought, his hand sliding up your bare thighs and under your skirt, then he grips your ass and brings your core down onto his thigh, the friction enough to have you letting out a strangled moan.
“Since the day I first saw you.” He finally whispers and connects your lips once again. His hand on your ass doesn’t move, his other hand is placed on your waist as he helps you ride the rough material of his pants. Renjun can only watch your reactions; the way your head lolls back into the wall and your eyes screw shut, holding onto Renjun’s shoulders tight enough he’s sure there will be marks afterwards.
“Fuck— Renjun, don’t stop, please.” He’s mesmerized, absolutely addicted to how you look and sound right now, and it’s all because of him. The thought spurs him along, he removes your jacket and you blindly help him in removing your top and bra. You must look like a mess right now, especially since you’re coming close to your climax just by Renjun’s touch and his thigh. Not to mention the sweat dripping down both of you, a glistening sheen coating your skin that makes Renjun let out a low growl before he leans down and takes one of your nipples in his mouth.
He sucks and swirls his tongue, and you can’t help but moan his name again, digging your fingers into his blonde hair and tugging. Renjun moves from your chest downward, not letting an inch of your stomach and hips go past him without a kiss and a nibble, leaving you breathing heavily. He makes his way down to his knees and folds your skirt up, glancing at you from his position.
“You don’t wear anything under here except your panties?” You nod, your head stuttering as Renjun applies pressure with his thumb over your slick hole, a wet spot already there to greet him.
“You’re so fucking dirty, baby.” He groans and leans in to swipe his tongue over your center making you shake as a response. He slides your underwear down and throws it somewhere to the side, catching the sigh of your arousal dripping down your thigh. His intense stare makes you shake him, embarrassment crawling over you at how he’s not reacting.
“Are you shy?” You whine, not really answering his question. “You don’t need to be. You’re beautiful.” The softness from his voice contradicts his more dominating tone from before, but you don’t have time to think about it before he dives in. You sigh in content when the pressure in between your hips caused by Renjun turns into pure pleasure. His tongue laps at your essence and his lips suck on your clit, you can tell he’s trying to find what exactly will make you tick.
When Renjun slides a finger into your hole unexpectedly, you jump and whimper a bit but the feeling of him sliding in and out along with his tongue circling and sucking on your clit makes a knot form in the pit of your stomach, tightening up your muscles and making your eyes roll back.
“Right there. Oh my god, right there…” You keep repeating, praying that Renjun treats you good and let’s you come. He adds another finger and you gasp, starting to move your hips in rhythm to his hand, holding onto his shoulders for more stability. He glances up at you, watching your eyes screw shut and your tits bounce as you use his hand to get yourself off. Renjun hums against you, and you can almost feel the ecstasy of coming undone, until Renjun pulls away. You groan, feeling like crying when your orgasm fades.
“Hey..” You whine, pouting when Renjun stands back up and licks your juices off of his lips. He has some on his chin and you bring your hand up to wipe it away, Renjun stopping your hand and kissing the wetness away, then kissing up your arm and to your shoulder, up your neck and to your ear. He tugs at your earlobe, licking the skin under it and biting some more, his hands sliding up your waist at playing with your nipples, pinching a little to get whimpers out of you and making your hips buck up, ready to continue where Renjun left you at.
That’s when you feel the hardness in his pants; it must be painful. That’s why you understand his next words, whispered into the shell of your ear between kisses: “You’re not coming until I’m in you, got it?”
You nod quickly, attaching your hands to Renjun’s zipper and button, undoing them and sliding down his pants.
“But, you’re gonna need to do something for me…” He says, helping you pull down his boxers, watching his angry, red length swing out. You gasp, feeling a bit bad that you just left Renjun like this to eat you out, but you’re sure you can make up to him now.
“What is it? I’ll do it.” Your hands run over Renjun’s sweaty shoulders, moving away some longer hair in the back of his head that’s sticking against his neck.
“You’re gonna have to yell my name. I need you to let everyone know who’s doing this to you— who’s making you feel good, okay?” Your breath gets caught in your throat as the words tumble out of his lips. He tilts his voice higher at the end of every phrase to make him sound innocent, but you’re not fooled.
“There’s people outside…” You mumble back, sending a glance at the door. You know there are several staff and customers walking along the hallways outside. What will they think if they hear you screaming Renjun’s name? Not to talk about what will happen to your job.
Those thoughts melt away when Renjun’s dick slides between your folds slowly, making you turn your gaze back to him and hold on tight as he lubricates himself over your wetness, holding onto your hips so that you don’t move and take anymore than what he’s giving you.
“That’s exactly why I want you to scream. Can you do that for me?” He asks and you nod frantically, doing almost anything to get his dick inside you. You’re not sure what’s going to happen once you step out of this room, but at least you know Renjun is going to give you the best fuck you’ve had in a while, and you know it’ll be worth it for what’s to come after all this.
“Finally…” You moan when Renjun’s length disappears into you inch by inch, going slow as to not hurt you. He sucks in a breath through his teeth as he bottoms out, picking up your thigh to hang it over his hip and wrapping his other arm around your waist to keep you close. You hold onto him, adjusting as he kisses your lips sweetly and carefully, and waits to move his throbbing cock through your velvety walls.
“Go, Renjun, move….” You whisper, and he looks at you confused.
“What was that? I didn’t hear you.” He asks, cocking his head.
“Please, move.” You say louder, but he shakes his head and purses his lips as if he still can’t understand.
“I said, fuck me, Renjun. Please, can you fuck me already?” You all but scream out, your voice almost cracking at how whiny you sound. No doubt, if someone passed by outside they would’ve heard you. The thought makes you tense up, but it feels so good to be able to yell out what you want.
“Your wish, baby.” Renjun mutters before he starts rocking into you. You both groan at the sensation, Renjun’s hips speeding up as he gains more momentum. His lips don’t leave yours, kissing you into oblivion while his dick stuffs you. He has you against the wall, his hips powering away and you don’t dare to disturb him, realizing he’s burning all of his anger away as well.
“Yes, Renjun, fuck me just like that…'' You moan loudly to spur him on, now not really caring about who’s outside or who hears you, just wanting Renjun to know you love how rough he’s going. He presses you higher up the wall and pulls your legs apart more, hitting a new angle that literally makes you scream out, tears mixing with the sweat on your face as he relentlessly pumps into you.
There are so many things going on at the same time. Your hard nipples and soft breasts rubbing against Renjun’s chest, making goosebumps rise on his arms. Your hot and sweaty bodies are basically sliding against each other. The clapping of his hips against yours no doubt attracts attention from outside along with your screams and Renjun’s grunts continuously get louder as you both get closer to the climax.
“I’m gonna come… Renjun, come in me…” You’re already fucked out, the words barely leaving your lips coherently, but Renjun understands and moves his finger down to find your clit, circling his thumb fast and steady, just like everything else he’s doing.
“C’mon come on my cock, babe. Let it out, I wanna hear it.” And just like that, you unwind and scream his name as your orgasm washes over and takes control, making you claw onto any part of Renjun that you can reach. Renjun feels your walls deliciously convulse around him and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he comes into you and fills you up, staying wrapped up in you as you both calm down.
Renjun presses small kisses wherever he feels like as your breathing settles down, his softness and the caring way he rubs at your sides and hips where he was holding so hard that you’re sure to have bruises makes you smile hazily.
“___… I don’t regret any of this.” He whispers into your skin, leaning back to look at you properly. “Do you?”
“No.” You answer truthfully, making his eyes shine and you both smile dumbly, your sticking bodies relaxing. The happy moment doesn’t last long before there’s a knock on the door to the sauna. You and Renjun stiffen up as you glance at the door, waiting for whoever it is to announce themselves.
“Renjun? Son?” Your heart drops to your stomach and you cover your mouth at the voice of Renjun’s father on the other side of the door, but when you turn to Renjun, he doesn’t seem bothered. He sends a smile at you and moves some hair from your face before answering.
“Occupied, go somewhere else. We’re busy.”
#renjun#renjun fluff#nct dream au#nct smut#nct dream smut#huang renjun#renjun smut#nct fluff#nct dream fluff#renjun au#nct au#renjun x reader#nct dream#nct#renjun scenarios#renjun imagines#renjun fic#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct fics#nct dream imagines#nct dream scenarios#nct dream fic#00 line#dreamies
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A cute hostel and a meet-again (loosely translated from "Wiedersehen")
Yesterday, the 15th of March, the whether was not as bad a predicted (but still rainy) and we enjoyed the hike to our youth hostel in Elmscott. We had coffee and tea in an authentic old smugglers Inn in Hartland Quay, which reminded me of the fact that the South West Coast Path was originally built to spot smugglers and Pirates from the coast! In the pub we had a nice little chat with an 80-year old couple who told us that they walked the SWCP 30 years ago and that everything gets harder when you get older. And that Cornwall and Devon wouldn't be so green and beautiful if it didn't rain so much. True, I guess.
We had to walk up and down hills (cliffs) quite a bit, but it was not as hard as in the beginning. The black, layered cliffs looked beautiful and where rivers were flowing into the sea, there were small waterfalls.
When we arrived at the Youth Hostel nobody was there, but an hour later the owner, a chatty lady, arrived in her golf cart coming from the farm nextdoor where she lived. The hostel was an old house with simple but cute interior. Later that evening one other girl arrived, she shared her tea with us and we shared our canned rice pudding (bought in the tiny hostel shop just like the bag of crisps below) with her. It was really nice to meet her and in the morning she left us a chocolate bar and a letter!
The next morning Rosa and I split up: I would be walking the next part of the trail until Bude, and Rosa would stay a day longer in the hostel and catch up with me the next day in Crackington Haven. Rosa needed a rest day, mostly because when we hike, make plans and wild camp, there is not much time for relaxation. You're always "on". This is obviously quite exhausting.
On my hike the landscape changed little and it was raining a lot. I met the four ladies from earlier again (Marianne and her friends from Sussex) and we were walking a bit together! Because of the rain I was faster than expected (it makes you walk faster) and after groceries shopping in Bude I pitched my tent on a grass hill behind Bude.
Unfortunately my shoes are still not watertight and my feet are wet again. I will try Rosas Duck tape as last resort tomorrow (or whenever the shoes are dry).
Oh and by the way, I crossed the Devon-Cornwall border today!
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That’s the golf cart boy that helps your family when you go to the country club and play golf and you ask him to teach you how to swing properly so he can put his arms around you
“I missed.” Y/N huffs as she watches her golf ball sail through the air and disappear into the lake behind her target, her shoulders slouching and mouth dipping into a subdued frown. This is her third failed attempt yet. “You’re utter shit at teaching for someone who’s been working here so long.”
Harry simply gives the amateur a crooked grin from where he’s standing off on the sidelines, his lean arms crossed over his stomach nonchalantly as he waits for her to finish walking towards to him. He takes the bait for their usual banter, snorting in amusement at her fiery reaction. “I’m an amazing golf coach; it’s not my fault you have no talent. I can only build on people’s skills, not pull them out of my ass and hand them over on a silver platter. Maybe if you actually practiced like I told you—”
“Maybe if this sport wasn’t so fucking boring,” she bites back, using the end of her golf club to nudge him pointedly in his sturdy chest, “I would be stimulated enough to try.”
Harry purses his lips to hide a filthy smirk, taking the tool from her and tossing it into the bag across the backseat of his cart. He turns back to face his conditional student, one of his brows inching upwards snidely. “Are you saying you’re not stimulated enough?”
Y/N’s features crack into a scowl at his inappropriate joke. “Hilarious. I bet you’re a hit among pre-teens, aren’t you?”
“I am, yeah!” He quips brightly, exaggerating an innocent smile as he rounds the side of the vehicle and mounts into the driver’s spot. He parts his legs widely as he gets comfortable, and she has to restrain the urge to rake her gaze down the unbelievably short trousers riding up his thick thighs. He pats at the seat beside him symbolically, silently requesting that she join him. “But I’m also great with the ladies. Get a hole in one every time. Literally.”
The girl releases a sound of aggravated disgust at his stupid self-absorbed comment, trudging through the wet grass and rolling her eyes in exasperation as he giggles boyishly. She hauls herself up into the front seat, plopping onto the leather surface with a deadpan expression written all over her face. “You’re despicable.”
“Ooh, that’s a neat new word! Are you working on expanding your vocabulary? Proud of you, love.”
“Just shut up and drive, Tiger Woods.”
“To our usual spot?”
She maneuvers to position herself accordingly, propping her feet onto his lap as he finagles the buggy into the designated setting. She fixes her frilly pastel blue skirt over her thighs as she does so, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a sly eyeful. Knowing him, he’d definitely take the chance.
Y/N taps the tip of her shoe against his lean tummy for significance, shrugging her brows impassively as she leans her head back against the nearest railing. “Where else would we go?”
“I dunno, maybe back to the club so your family isn’t left wondering where you are? S’kinda rude to make them wait,” he pauses for a moment to glance down at the watch decorating his wrist, humming to himself in realization, “especially because lunch is already being served. Food’s gonna get cold.”
“They can wait five minutes. It takes longer than that to starve to death.”
“Pretty brutal.”
“What is?”
Harry glimpses over at her with his tongue pressed along the inside of his cheek, condescension scribbled all over his demeanor. It’d been infuriating if he wasn’t so hot. Well, it’s infuriating regardless, but at least his attractiveness allows her to benefit from his antics.
The young man’s accent holds the same type of smugness slathered across his plush lips and defined cheekbones, and his words send a flush of heat down the knobs of her spine. “That you’d rather get fucked in an equipment shed than spend quality time with your relatives.”
Y/N narrows her eyes at him pettily, muscling down the warmth rising up her neck. “What’s it to you?”
“Nothing much.” He bobs his shoulders easily, tone dismissive and indifferent as he secures one bejeweled hand onto the steering wheel, the other finding perch above her knee. He gives it a playful squeeze, his dimples winking at her flirtatiously when she jolts at the iciness behind his chunky rings. “Just an observation, s’all.”
“I’m not sleeping with you so you can make observations.” She grumbles, but despite her attitude towards him, she doesn’t make any conscious effort to shed his touch. His skin is always so soft, and the sensation of his large palm resting anywhere on her body feels so fucking right.
“Aren’t you?” Harry inquires with snarky pretension, dropping the sole of his sneaker onto the acceleration pedal and causing the car’s ignition to roar to life. The tiny vehicle takes off across the slopes of the golfing meadow, jumping and creaking as it rides over all the dips and hills of the valley, trees and flags whizzing by as it speeds towards an all too familiar trail. “Because last time I checked, you seem to love it when I observe you on your knees. Beg for it, even.”
Y/N’s jaw clenches tightly at his taunting. “Piss off.”
“How’s that go again? Something along the lines of,” he sweetens his voice down into a dramatic pleading lilt, mimicking her moans from the past, “‘You taste so fucking good, Harry.’ and ‘I love it when you cum on my face, baby.’ and ‘I want you to fuck my mouth, daddy. Want it so bad.’”
The young woman’s teeth squeak from how hard she’s biting back her anger. “Asshole.”
“Is that not right? Is that not what happens?” Harry implores with a ridiculing pout and fluttering lashes, going out of his way to ride on her last nerve. His fingers begin to crawl higher up her leg, sneaking beneath the billowing edge of her skirt and tracing random shapes along the suppleness of her inner thighs, pinching and twisting at the flesh until he gets a physical response. He adores seeing her squirm against the waxy seat as she suddenly grasps onto his arm needily, especially because she does absolutely nothing to deter him from continuing. “Sorry, my memories get jumbled sometimes. There’s just so many of them, y’know? You whimper and whine for my cock so often, I can hardly keep track of every single time. Maybe I should start a transcript or summat, hm?”
Y/N’s voice pipes up low and venomous, but there’s a trembling undercurrent to it that she can’t deny. “If you keep being a dickhead, this’ll be the last one.”
Harry tuts conceitedly, cooing at her as his digits dive deeper into her bottoms, hooking into her panties and toying with her clit beneath the damp material. He doesn’t break his gaze away from the expanse of grass before them, but his arrogant simper is wide enough that she gets the perfect view of it from his ridiculously handsome side profile. “We both know that’s not true.”
“Get fucked.”
“I’m about to.”
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Ladies Golf Gear: A Comprehensive Guide for Female Golfers
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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Brighton Moc Croc Golf Charm Belt Sz L - MINT.
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meeting the fam
frat jj x reader
words: 1614
warnings: cursing and mentions of alcohol
synopsis: meeting the parents never seems to go as planned
a/n: so i am going out of town today for the rest of the week and won’t be able to write anything long-form. i have some requests to work on when i get back but if anyone wants to send things i could write blurbs for i wouldn’t mind doing some of those while i’m away!
The day JJ met your parents was maybe one of the best, yet most embarrassing days of your life. It was mostly your fault, you had to admit, because you totally forgot your parents were coming into town.
They rolled up on a Saturday morning, you and JJ had gone out the night before and not come back until 3 a.m. There were at least six texts from your sister and two missed calls from your mom, but you didn’t wake up until there was a knock at your door.
You sat up, disoriented, head pounding in time with the knocks, and JJ groaned, burying his face into your hip. His hair was falling into his face and you definitely hoped whoever was knocking would go away so you could cuddle with him longer.
But of course, it didn’t, so you pulled yourself away. JJ opened one eye and pouted, “Ignore them, babe.”
“I can’t, they won’t go away.”
There was a slight thought that maybe you should put on some pants to answer the door, but you figured JJ’s shirt was long enough to cover all the important bits. When the door swung open, however, you immediately regretted it.
The greetings died on your parent’s lips as they took in your disheveled appearance and your sister was outright laughing. She pushed past your parents to give you a hug, “Forgot we were coming, huh?”
“Yeah,” your voice cracked, “must’ve slipped my mind.”
And that was when JJ decided to bless your whole family with his presence. He’d heard talking but wasn’t sure who it was and he was curious, so he lazily pulled on a pair of boxers and walked out of your room. You stared at him wide eyed, and he froze, mid-yawn.
Your sister burst out laughing again and your mom looked between the two of you a few times. You wanted to bury yourself and never come out again.
“So,” your dad started, “you must be JJ.”
JJ laughed awkwardly, “Yessir, that’s me.”
You couldn’t take it anymore, “Okay, why don’t you guys go wait down in the lobby and we’ll get dressed and join y’all. How did you even get in anyway?”
“A nice girl who lives on your hall scanned us in,” your mom explained with a smile and you wanted to scream.
“Right, okay, well, we’ll see you in a bit.”
When the door was shut and your family was gone, JJ started laughing with a slight hysterical edge, “Fuck, dude, what a first impression.”
You pressed your face into your hands and groaned, “I totally forgot they were coming this weekend, I’m so sorry.”
Whether it was the hangover, the lack of sleep, or the embarrassment that caused the tears, you weren’t sure, but your eyes welled up and you started sniffling. JJ’s head snapped up in alarm and he grabbed your wrists to pull your hands away, “Hey, sweetheart, I promise it’s going to be okay. I’m not mad. We’re going to get dressed and go try this again, okay?”
“I want them to like you,” you managed between sniffles.
JJ pulled you close and wrapped you into a tight hug, “Everyone likes me, I’ll win them over, I promise.”
“So cocky,” you muttered, finally pulling away. Only to look up and see the hickeys on his neck and collar bones. Your face went red immediately, “Oh, fuck, we have to cover those up.”
“I don’t think they saw,” JJ tried to soothe, but you were already reaching for your makeup bag. He grabbed your wrists again, “Why don’t we get ready and then cover what’s visible?”
You paused, “Right, that makes sense. Get ready first.”
The two of you went through the motions of getting dressed. Washing your face, brushing your teeth and hair, and pulling on clean clothes that were acceptable for lunch with your parents. You still kind of felt like shit, so you took some medicine and prayed it would kick in before the questioning started.
JJ’s shirt covered most of the damage, but you still had to carefully apply concealer to a poorly placed hickey near his Adam’s apple. He sat still until you deemed it covered enough and then smirked at you, “Damn, you really went to town last night, huh sweetheart?”
“Fuck off,” you said with a blush while sliding on some shoes.
“I kinda like it,” he admitted while putting on his own shoes.
You stared at the door, kind of wishing you didn’t have to leave, but JJ took your hand and gave it a few squeezes as encouragement. It was enough, and you grabbed your keys, pulling the door fully shut behind you.
Your hands were definitely sweating, but JJ didn’t say anything and you were thankful for it. Down in the lobby he shook hands with your dad and introductions were made officially. Much to your relief things seemed to be going well. About as well as they could considering circumstances.
JJ offered to drive the two of you separately to the restaurant your parents picked out, but they insisted on only taking one car. And that’s how you found yourself smushed in the backseat between your sister who kept elbowing you in the ribs and JJ who was still holding your hand. The contrast was startling.
“So, JJ,” your dad started at a red light, “what are you in school for?”
“I’m doing marine biology for right now; I grew up in the Outer Banks and one of my good friends there was a huge advocate of the environment. I think it could be cool to work in habitat restoration or something.”
Your dad hummed before asking, “So do you have a job right now?”
“Dad,” you interrupted, exasperated.
“I’m just trying to make sure he’s not freeloading; I know you work very hard.”
“Oh my god,” you mumbled under your breath before continuing, “he’s not freeloading, he stayed over because we got in late and his dorm is a long walk away.”
“Sure,” your dad didn’t sound like he believed you very much.
JJ cut in, “I don’t have a job right now, but I pick up bouncer shifts at a bar every now and then.”
The rest of the ride was filled with aimless small talk and you felt like you were going to throw up the whole time. It got a little better when your group got seated and were waiting on the food. Of course, when you finally got comfortable, that’s when your dad decided to speak up again.
“What do you do for fun, JJ?”
JJ set his fork down carefully, “Most of my spare time is taken up by the fraternity I’m in.”
“Fraternity, huh? Any other hobbies?”
“I like to fish and surf when I can. What about you?”
You choked on a sip of coffee as your dad blinked at JJ who was sitting there, totally relaxed. He finally gathered himself, “What about me?”
“What do you like to do for fun?” JJ asked, not backing down.
“I work,” your dad responded blankly and you snorted out a laugh.
JJ finished chewing before pushing, “No golf or anything? I’d love to get to know my girlfriend’s dad better.”
Which damn, that was kind of hot. Your dad was at a loss for words and you squeezed JJ’s thigh in congratulations. The first guy who’d ever actually gotten your dad speechless. He reached down and linked your hands together, softly stroking his thumb over the back of your hand.
Your sister was looking back and forth between JJ and your dad like it was a damn tennis match and your mom elbowed your dad gently to get him to respond. Finally, he seemed to reanimate and told JJ, “I’d like that.”
In typical fashion your sister had a lot of questions and a lot of dirt on you she wanted to give JJ. He laughed at all of the stories in the right places and was really engaged, impressing your mom. You mostly sat in silence until your sister started the story about the time you accidentally hit your teacher during a presentation and then had a breakdown in front of the whole class.
“Right, that’s enough,” you said, clapping a hand over her mouth from the other side of JJ.
She licked your palm and you yanked it away in disgust so she could say, “JJ needs to know how much of a loser you are before he decides to commit.”
“He already committed; this isn’t a tryout.”
“He could definitely still break up with you, though.”
“But he isn’t, you-“ your mom cut you off before you could finish your thought.
“Ladies, that’s enough.”
You leaned back, pouting, and you could feel JJ trembling slightly trying to hold back laughter. Pinching his thigh to get him to stop didn’t work and only caused him to actually laugh. Your sister grinned triumphantly and while it was annoying, you were glad they got along.
When your parents dropped the two of you back off, your dad shook JJ’s hand and told him, “It was nice to meet you, son, I’d like to go fishing sometime.”
“Definitely,” JJ told him, huge grin on his face.
You hugged your mom and she whispered, “He’s great.”
Which you totally agreed with. The two of you stayed outside the building until your parents’ car had disappeared, and you laughed, “Well that could’ve gone better.”
JJ scoffed, “I fucking killed it, babe. Your parents love me.”
“Well, I don’t know about that one.”
“They love me,” he said again and kissed you to cut off whatever response you had for him.
***
tagging: @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @stfukie @socialwriter
#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x you#jj maybank fic#jj maybank headcanon#jj maybank fluff#frat!jj#outer banks fic#outer banks#obx#sigma chi!jj
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A Bloom In Time Ch24 Accidential New Star
(I had to look up the prices and what the bill document said to get this right.)
Dead Bird Studios.
The place where for YEARS had been the birthplace of creativity and actors on the big screen. And now she was standing right in front of it. The others didn't look so fazed at the big building considering they had been there multiple times before but that didn't stop her from staring up in fascination at it all. It. WAS. HUGE!! WAY bigger than those tall buildings back on the moon. A giant logo sign of a black bird skull and film real decorated the outside on the big front there with the giant words under it reading DEAD BIRD STUDIOS. A parking lot stood between them and the entrance and they were already walking across it towards the entrance. To the far left of them, they could all see a bunch more of those cars parked into the rectangular spaced, not that Poppy was paying attention as they marched across in the hot sun beating down on them all. Poppy would be lying if she wasn't impressed, as she subconciously walked after the small group still walking, the shadow of the building fell over her and she involuntarily sighed feeling the harsh rays of the sun gone for a moment. Still following along after them up to the double doors of the building. The grown lady flinched when they opened on their own as soon as Cookie got near it and mumbled grumpily to herself about forgetting her purse and having to walk all the way back here on her day off of all things helping out and how it was so rude of her to make them all take this detour. Not that anyone minded as the children excitedly ran in past them inside. Poppy glanced wearily at the doors for a moment while passing, jumping a foot forward when it closed by themselves, blue eyes glanced between it and Cookie for a moment before following after the mumbling cat. The long hallway was pretty dark with a black carpet with bird skull patterns with lots of white squares lights barely lighting up the place. With a whoosh noise the doors up ahead opened on their own accord and the three children ran on through and into what looked like a well lit room. As they continued to persue the children down the rest of the hall she thought she heard some squeals of delight but she wasn't too sure yet. When she finally approuched the double pair of doors, they opened again with a whoosh for Cookie and Poppy flinched again...Before blinking and sticking her head into the lit room. A giant white Television set(computor) was sat on the counter which was the first thing she saw, and shiny marble floors reflected the bright lights above. There was a tired looking bird manning the counter as he calmly watched everything around him. Next to him was some kind of giant piece of heavy looking machinery, and as Poppy finally stepped in, she gawked at the sight of GIANT glass cases on either side of the room with shiny copies of trouphies safely sat inside with names of old movie directors of years past. But those only held her attention for a moment, above the trophies on either side were giant framed posters. On the right with a few penguins gathered was a strange looking instrument in disco lights, a ...slime monster??, and some penguin in an astronaut suit. To the right was a more western style of two seperate birds holding guns and a random cactus. Two doors were on either side and two signs by them each saying FILMING IN PROGRESS.
"DARLING!! You're back so soon?," A loud voice boomed out and Poppy yelped dropping her bags of clothing on the floor.
Who the voice belongs to was another moon penguin...But this one looked TOTALLY different from any other penguin she's seen before. He wore a ridiculous outfit with weirder shoes on his feet making him taller than the other penguins by a few inches, and he actually had hair and yellow eye brows styled up into some kind of weirder haircut, and last but certainly not least a giant pair of all black shaped sunglasses over his eyes. His beak was curled up in a smile as he approuched from the small crowd of three girls tailing after him as Cookie walked over to him.
"I wasn't expecting my best best network star to return so soon," he happily addressed her earning him a few embarrassed chuckles.
"Not exactly planned. I uh...Forgot my purse on set again and needed to run in and grab it. Can't exactly feed a bunch of hungry children without it now can I? H-How's the movie auditions so far?"
The penguin sighed and reached a flipper up to his forehead. "Easier said than done. There's the part of the wicked family who still need spaces filled in place, and the handsome prince, not to mention that I still have no one to play the concerned father and we only have a few months to put this together! I can't describe how much pressure I'm feeling..But I have a good feeling that this year will be in our favor for sure!"
Cookie smiled brightly. "Oh, I'm sure you'll find the perfect people to fill those roles soon. You always manage to pull off a wonderful display."
"*sigh* I sure hope so, Dear. I'd hate to have nothing to present for my efforts." His gaze turned up once he noticed movement by the doors as Poppy reached back down to pick her bags back up. "And I see you brought a new friend!" Poppy paused as she was approuched by the eccentric looking fella. "Why HELLO there, Darling! I don't believe we've met!"
"Uh..." Poppy had to blink to actually make sure she was seeing who she was actually seeing before shaking her head and standing up, giving a politely smile. "Howdy! I don't think we've met actually."
The penguin chuckled and shook his head. "We didn't and I never forget a pretty face, Darling. And who might you be?"
"I'm those two's temporarily babysitter," she answered pointed at two of the three children huddled by his side. "Until I can get back on mah feet that is. Kinda starting from scratch after a crazy wake up call."
"Well, it's an honor to meet you Darling." His whole being radiated positivity and his voice despite being loud was very welcoming, making Poppy smile brightly, "I take it this is your first time at a studio?"
She smiled a bit shyly. "I-Is it that obvious? hehe" She reached up to rub the back of her neck. "Uh...Y-Yeah. Do you work here?"
At this the penguin and Cookie shared a chuckle before he spoke. "Well, I should hope so. Or else my name isn't DJ Grooves."
Grooves?....DJ Grooves? As in THE Mr. Grooves Cookie had spoken about before? OH! He must've been the director she spot about earlier, that would've explained the way he dressed. This guy was a walking fat cat with deep pockets, but he looked rather friendly and cheerful to her. And not to brag, but she did have a good judge of character usually.
"OH! So YOU'RE this Mr. Grooves I've heard so much about."
He chuckled. "So you heard a lot about me? I'm flattered, Darling. Really I am-" He was interrupted when a rumble sounded out and Poppy grabbed at her stomach embarrased. "...Oh my, my, my. Hungry are we?"
"I haven't eaten since breakfast and we've been running around all day."
"Well, then I better get back there and find that darned thing." Cookie turned to Mr. Grooves with a smile. "Ya'll don't mind if I just run to the back real quick like and grab it do you?"
"Not at all, Darling. Be my guest." Cookie smiled and without another word turned and ran off towards the door on the fair right of the room. The giant thing creaked open and closed behind her as she disappeared into the area behind it. Poppy watched her go behind sighing and stretching out her back from the now uncomfortable weight of the heavy used farm equipment on her, but her attention went back to Mr. Grooves when he pointed towards the counter and spoke again. "Darling, if you want you can just place these bags right on over there with the other random things we brought in today. You look redder than an apple on the sun."
She nodded yes reaching up a hand to wipe at her face. "I feel like a baked apple too. ...Ya sure you don't mind?"
"Not at all, Darling. Not at all. Why don't you go do that and I'll have one of my assistants bring you out a glass."
"Well, if you're really sure."
She smiled and lugged her way over to the counter by the crate and weird machine thing. Placing the bags down by the crate, she shimmied the golf club bag of farming tools off her shoulders and into her hands, leaning them all carefully against the big ol' machine thing next to them. Sighing that her back didn't have weight on it anymore she stretched it out making her back pop. A few giggles made her look back over towards the small group of girls around the penguin. Bow was still pouting looking down at the clothes in disgust but looked up when the penguin adjusted the sunhat on her head, she looked up at him and Mr. Grooves said something to her. Poppy couldn't hear exactly what he said but it put a smile on Bow's face and he patted her head with a flipper. A smile returning to her face at the cute scene in front of her. A small creaking noise came from her left, and Poppy didn't notice the expensive camera starting to lean from the weight of her tools.
BAM!!
A loud bang filled the room but strangely enough, barely anyone flinched or looked up from it. As if used to hearing large booming noises in the studio. The only ones who reacted was Mr. Grooves, the girls, and Poppy. Poppy all but jumped out of her skin backing against the counter and whirling towards the source of the sound, the girls seemed to flinch, and Mr. Grooves only casually looked over towards the left side of the studio. There the other giant pair of double doors had been kicked open and slammed into the walls, a moment later a very angry......Yellow owl?? Stomped out and behind him followed some regular Express Owls holding various items or just following. .....Wat? Poppy had to blink as the small whatever he was stomped over near to where she was standing and starting barking demands all of a sudden.
"You three grab the bloody camera and make sure ye pecknecks keep a tight grip on it! I nae need me raw footage damaged in anyway!" His head turned as he barked orders to the owls who jumped and nodded at their bosses demands. "Good! Can't count on you all to do anything without me tellin' ye to cannae?"
Well THAT was rude. Poppy frowned at the rude little whatever he was and still didn't notice the large machine next to her lean over even more. Neither Poppy, the owls, or whoever this small yellow guy was(who was still yelling at the poor owls through all of this might I add) noticed the heavy duty camera leaning over or the glamerous penguin waltz on over towards him with a smile until they all reacted at his voice. The owls stopping, the yellow bird thing freezing for a few seconds, his fist shaking and slowly closing into fists, and his head snapping to peer over his shoulder, and Poppy looking over blinking.
"Conductor, Darling. You mustn't be so loud. It disturbs the peace and scares potential clients away," Mr. Grooves calmly spoke to this person. "You know I'm still expecting others to answer my casting calls."
Wait. Didn't Cookie also mention a Conductor? Huh. So this must be him. Not gonna lie, not a good first impression to her if she said so herself. Conductor huffed and turned his whole body turned to completely face the calm moon penguin now.
"Tis NAE of your business ye no good puffy haired peckneck!!," Conductor shouted while pointing a hand at Mr. Grooves. He was loud enough to make Poppy wince. "Why don't ye badger off and leave me to my worrrrrk!!"
"Darling, I would love nothing MORE than to leave you alone undisturbed," Mr. Grooves insisted calmly holding up his flippers, "All I ask is that you don't make such a ruckus in the lobby so my interviewers don't get scared off."
"HA!! Ye still going on 'bout that nonsense! Like anyone would rrrreally want to be in some techno sore to the eyes picture like yours!"
"Well that's not true at all. I have a gentlemen coming in tomorrow to see for the part of the Father in my little play. "
"HA!! The third one in a row? By this rate, ye won't be able to show ye face at the Award Ceremony for judging!" He smiled this time and crossed his arms.
"Now, now. There's still lots of time. And I'm going for something far more simple this year. A little change of style but still fabulous if I do say so myself."
"HMPH!! Well I say ye are full of birdseed if you think you have an inch of chance as usually! Another second place trophy would be more fitted! AHAHAHA!!"
Poppy could feel herself frowning at his words. Well that was really uncalled fore especially since Mr. Grooves wasn't being rude at all back or making a big scene like Conductor was. CREAAAAAAAAAAKKKK!! Hey...What was that creaking sound? Or was her ears ringing from the earlier screaming.
"Ye should give up now and save ye some trouble! With me raw footage it's surrrre to be in me favor."
CRREEEEEEEEEEEEE-
A giant creaking sound echoed out in a black blur as the giant camera leaned over and tipped. Owls hooted in fear as they scrambled out of the way as all eyes looked over and it seemed time slowed down as it went down, down, down- .....With a loud crash glass and pieces of metal shattered and flew everywhere. On instinct everyone close enough held up their arms and looked away from the shatter, but it was too late. Time slowed down as the camera shattered beyond repair and lots of metal clangs and sounds followed the disaster until it all finally settled piece by piece in front of them all on the floor. Destroyed camera and farming tools splayed on top of it. Everyone stood in shock staring down at the absolutely DESTROYED piece of machinery but that wasn't the last of it. A few sparks from the top of the camera shot out .....and then just a tiny spark of flame appeared. Well that tiny flame was enough to send some panic througout everyone there as owls sqawked and gasped back at the sight of the small flame which slowly started to grow causing everone else to get mildly panicked.
"SOME DARLIN' GET A FIRE EXSTINGISHER!!," Mr. Grooves yelled one flipper going up behind him to push back the small group of children behind him.
"STAND BACK!!"
In a fury of feather and blur, a white streak of foam shot out from some random direction and slammed into the flames, successfully putting out the flames with a sizzling sound by none other than the receptionist. The bird who was behind the counter wasn't finished yet as he continued to spray the camera and part of her tools down until it was all white like snow had piled on it and he stopped. Everyone remained in their tense pose for a long while staring at the camera...before some sighed in relief as did Poppy. Well that was certainly a surprise wasn't it? ...But not a very pleasant one by SOMEONE'S standards.
"MY MOVIE!!," Conductor cried recieving all eyes on his as his hands reached up to grab those feathery parts of his head staring dead at the camera in horror. "ALL ME HARD WORKED RRRRRRAW FOOTAGE IS GONE!!! .....AH!! YOU!!" His horror quickly shifted to anger when he snapped towards the fightened owls with an accusing tone. "YOU NO GOOD......FEATHER BRAINED....PPPPPPPEEEEECCKKNNEEEEEECKSSSS!! I TOLD YE TO BE CAREFULL!! NOW LOOK AT WHAT YE DONE TA ME HARRRD WORK!! WAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH A BLOODY SHATTERED MESS MADE BY BUBBLING BAFOONS?!"
The owls all froze at their bosses torment as Grooves turned around to ask the little girls if they were alright and Poppy stared. Watching as Conductor continued to shout as he blamed the poor owls for the mess....Blue eyes blinked down to the farming tools laid upon the floor. HER mess. The one she made-
Red eyes and shadows stared at her frightened form as a voice hissed. "Take her to the room and lock her away. ...I can't to look at her for as my prince had done. Perhaps locking away her forever will teach her a lesson about gazing into another man's eyes who belong TO ME!!"
"STOP!! JUST STOP IT WAS MY FAULT!!!"
Blue eyes snapped open at the yell. The yell that made everyone freeze and look at the red head who looked just as shocked and surprised as everyone else at her sudden outburst, but the Conductor wasn't yelling at the owls anymore. Despite him not having eyes, she could still tell he was staring right at her along with everyone else around her in more stunned silence as nobody spole.
".......Wot?"
"So YOU'RE the one responsible for this?," the tallest bird from the counter spoke putting down the fire extingisher and crossed his arms with a frown making Poppy flinch.
Poppy stared at him for a moment but seeing one poor worried looking owl behind him, made her frown before taking a deep inhale...and nodding towards the receptionist without hesitation. "That's right! One hundred peckin' percent!" She boldly pointed to the half foam covered tools by now. "Those are mah tools and it's mah fault the giant whatcha-ma-callit thing fell over 'n broke! Not anyone else's! So don't be yelling at anyone!"
The receptionist stood there for a moment staring at her before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a pen and piece of paper. "Are you willing to pay for the damages? If you chose to claim the damages that is."
She nodded again without hesitation. "I am!"
"Alright." The paper had the same bird skull logo and Dead Bird Studios in bold red words. "Where do you live, Ma'am?"
"Uh...."
"With us!," Hattie piped up.
"Alright." Under the words 'Billing Details' he wrote Red Head Human Woman and the adress Spaceship in the sky 1 6829 this planet, Invoice #: (insert random Owl Express Numbers), Invoice Date: Today, and Currency: Pons. After studying it for a bit he looked back down to the damaged thing with a hum. "Let's see. There was film so that counts under 'Distruping Studio Recordings' which comes to one hundred thousand pons." He wrote under the words 'You Will Be Billed For' as he spoke and looked at the damages caused. "One count of 'Penguin Harrassment' which is five hundred pons. Five cases of 'Owl Harrassment' for two thousand five hundred pons. 'Destruction of Property' oh definately for three thousand. And 'Tresspassing' for seven thousand."
Poppy could only stand there and let her eyes grow and widen in shock at the claims and how much pons this guy claimed she owed for such lunacy. ".......Tresspassing and harassment!? Of what kind?! I wasn't tresspassin' if I was invited in here!! And I wasn't harassing anyone!!''
"Ma'am. I'm only doing my job handling paperwork, and our insurance doesn't cover humans. The moment you stepped on property you became a liability and responisble for paying for any destruction you caused," he explained calmly as if he did this every day. He wrote one other thing down on the paper before holding it out for her. "You owe us one hundred thirteen thousand pons plus tax and another seven hundred fifty for the expensive high defintion camera to be replaced."
Poppy could only stare and not move at the paper held out to her with wide eyes and an open jaw like there was another cursed statue in front of her. After a moment, the recptionist carefully and calmly put the large bill in her hand and she finally reacted to the movement. with anger and a scowl. "WHY IS THIS SO EXPENSIVE!? I couldn't afford this even if I suddenly turned into solid gold like that roach did!!"
"Like I said, Ma'am. I'm only doing my job. If you like I could call the local court house of law, the lawyers there can assure you the paperwork and damages are all legal."
"Well I still can't PAY for it!.....What if I work off the debt instead? I'm a hard worker I promise."
"Well.....it wouldn't be the first time someone worked it off. But you'll have to speak with the two big bosses about it, not me I'm afraid."
"And they would be?"
"ME!!" She jumped and nearly dropped the paper when the Conductor scowled up at her with anger. "That was MY movie ye destrrrroyed with yer no good foolishness! If ye are gonna work it away ye better be ready to receive some hard work thrown at ye from meself!!''
".......No."
Silence. You could hear a pin drop as everyone in the studio of hearing range completely stopped what they were doing and turned their attention towards the scene before them with wide eyes. Completely shocked into silence as they all stared at the human alike. Penguins, Express Owls, the two children, and even both the directors seemed to be shocked into the dumb silence as they all gawked at the frowning red haired lady staring at the Conductor. THE CONDUCTOR!! NO ONE BUT DJ GROOVES HAD EVER SAID NO TO THE CONDUCTOR BEFORE!! (except Hattie that one time in the basement but we don't talk about that not that anyone outside of the little girl, and a few of her friends knew) But now it seemed everyone was too shocked seeing a new person say no to the famously hot headed owl. One owl staring completely let the script she was holding fall from her hands and land scattered at her feet as everyone watched jaws dropped. Eventually Confuctor was the one to break the awkward silence by what else, his famous yeling. "WOT!?," he shouted and stared at her. "An' why not?! Ye are the one who cost me mah raw footage! That was ten days of haarrrrrrd work I ain't nah gettin' back, Las!" The red head crossed her arms and didn't change her expression. "I know and I am terribly sorry I caused you so much trouble in that department. But I refuse to work with someone so rude and treats the employee's who's workin' hard trying to help him by calling them useless! Obviously you're a terrible boss who treats anyone helping him with no respect, and I would feel terrible! Being in one of your movies knowing that, Sir." The girls exchange silent shocked glances behind Poppy as she turned her head towards the damaged camera. "....If it's the material that I damaged I would gladly pay in anyway I can. But only on the basis you apologise to those you've wronged, Mr. Conductor. But don't you go thinkin' I'll do anything before I know I'll be treated with respect!" Conductor's. Jaw. DROPPED!! Obviously not used to anyone other than that ridiculous long time rival of his speaking to HIM. HIM!!! In such a brass and demanding manner and it took a moment for him to even process what she just said but in a moment his temper flared up in a moment's notice as those feathery appendages on his head wriggled and he pointed at the penguin director as the other fist clenched into a fist as he demanded. Mr. Grooves blinking surprised at the sudden action "Bu-Bu-Bu-BUT WHAT COULD BE SOOOO SPECIAL ABOUT 'EM DOWN RIGHT EYE SORE OF A SO CALLED MOVIE!? YE GARBAGE NEVER COULD GET OFF YE GROUND IF DJ GRRRRRROOOOVES HAD ALL ETERNITY AND BECAME PRRRRRRESIDENT OF YE BOX OFFICE!!" "That's not true! I actually saw one of his movies myself." "YE DID WOT!?" "You ...did?," Grooves shifted his funny glasses wearing face up towards her just as confused as the angry owl man. Poppy nodded. "Yes. I. Did. And to be perfectly honest, I didn't think it was that bad. In fact, it was really interesting. Maybe not the 'best' by bird standards, but by human standards the story was really easy to understand for someone who honestly doesn't really know a whole darn lot 'bout these fancy lights, or high tech stuff, or..." She waved a hand off shrugging. "Or whatever ratings are. And a struggling career was relatable for someone who's been struggling with a lot happening." Conductor was sputtering and made some kind of funny bird sqawking noise before some of the feathers around his collar ruffled up in rage and he jabbed a thumb at himself. "WELL MAH MOVIES ARE NOTHIN' TO SHY FROM EITHER, LASSIE!! RRRRESPECTIVELY THAT AYE AM THE ONE TO MAKE IT ON TOP ALL YE TIME!!" Her face frowned again as she looked down at the older bird with a harsher scowl. "MY respect, SIR, is earned. Not GIVEN! And so far you've done absolutely NOTHING to earn it! Yelling like a baby who didn't get their candy and throwing a fit is not the way to do that! You just come off to me as a spoiled old man who doesn't know the word no even existed!" "WHAT'S SO SPECIAL ABOUT THE BLOODY PECKNECK ANYWAYS!?," He demanded fuming. "If you can't respect him as your rival then the least you could do is respect him as another person in your profession. As far as I've seen he's been nothin' but polite and kind to everyone and considering he's not in mah face yellin' like a baby bird for his mama is somethin' I respect." With a huff of that sass Snatcher would've loved to see she closed her eyes, and turned her head away with her nose stuck up. "I will start RESPECTING you as an adult when you ACT like one and apologize and decide to stop throwing a tantrum and embarrassing yourself! Because the truth be told I think YOU'RE the only peckneck in this studio." More silence settled around the entire place as Conductor dropped his jaw and the only sound that came out of him was something that sounded like 'A-Ah...ah..ah ah ah.....' in a stuttery way. Hattie's eyes were wide and Bow's hands had come to cover her mouth in a dramatic way. If Snatcher was there, Hattie would have no doubt he would've started laughing loudly at the look on the old bird's face. In fact, she could almost hear it now. A deep rumbling chuckle-....But wait. Snatcher's voice wasn't deep? It was high and raspy. Then who was-... A cold flipper patted Poppy on the back making her hum and look next to her to find the afro wearing penguin chuckling...before laughing a deep but loud laugh that filled the room with an almost joyful mood. That seemed to snap the Conductor from his trance and glared in the laughing penguin's direction. After a moment, Mr. Grooves stopped and turned his gaze up to Poppy with a smile. "Darling! I never could've said that any better than how you did!" He patted her back again. "You know. I like you already, Darling. My little stars usually have great taste in character and I see they didn't spare any expense in making another darling friend. What did you say your name was again?" ......She blinked but smiled at the happy moon penguin politely. "Poppy Rose Bloomington. You can call me Poppy, Mr. Grooves." Grooves hummed for a moment looking at her up and down for a moment before turning to the glaring Conductor and the broken camera lying a few feet away in pieces. "Was that footage really that important to you Conductor, Darlin'?" "OF COURSE IT WAS YOU PE-" "There's children here." Conductor's feathery appendeges went back as he growled. "YES! It was half me movie! It cannae be so simply replaced with the secret idea I was goin' for! All the time I spent on it cannae be replaced in time of the award ceremony!" The penguin hummed and brought his other flipper up to rub the bottom of his beak staring at the camera with a thoughtful expression...before looking back up to Poppy. "I'm afraid he's right, Darlin. I've known Conductor long enough to know one thing he never does is lie about his movies, even if he does brag while doing so in such a rude manor." "HMPH!! OF COURSE I DONAE!!" Grooves just rolled his eyes. "Even so, I think we should help him." "YE WOT!?" Conductor glanced surprised at the penguin like he won the trophy all of a sudden. "What kind of nonsense are ye blabbering about now?" Grooves turned to him staring, before tilting his head down wear his sunglass slid down enough to reveal some of his eyes in a deadpanned expression. "Believe it or not, Darling, I don't like unfair advantages." Conductor just stared blankly at him. " But I'm sure my little stars here could help out with anything you may need." Bow lit up with a smile. "Yeah! I'd love to help!" "Don't you have a back up plan like you usually do?" "Of course Ah do! I ain't no dummy." "Well, there you go, Darling." He reached up to push his glasses back into place. "I'm sure you'll put together something spectacular like you always do." "......B-B-But..What are the damages!? Ye camera cost the studio over a thousand pons! I cannae just look past that!," he argued back pointing at the shattered thing. And Grooves hummed again. "I'm afraid you're right about that too. Frankly, these kinds of ones aren't too easily to come across."........In a moment he smiled and looked up to Poppy. "I know! She can work for me as payment for those damages." Poppy blinked with a surprised expression as did most of everyone else but at the thought of Poppy being in a movies both young girls suddenly looked even more excited. Conductor on the other hand- "ABABABABABA!! Hang on a pecking second! THE LASS WORK FOR YE FOR DAMAGING MAH FILM?!" "I-I AM?!," Poppy asked whirling wide eyed to the moon penguin director. "Yes. Cuz quick frankly it might've been your film, but it was on OUR shared expensive studio high definition camera, Darling. She can easily pay off any debt she owes for the camera and your footage by working and her pay going to the repairs and reienbursment for any misguided accidents." The Conductor growled again and went to probably argue some more- "Tick tock, Darling. You don't want to waste anytime fighting when there's a deadline to meet. It looks like you'll be needing to step up your game." "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!! FINE!!" The tiny bird man turned and began stomping away towards the owl's side of the studio. "WHAT ARE ALL YE LOOKING AT!? SOMEONE BRING ME MAH BACK UP SCRIPT!! CHANGE THE SETS TO OUTSIDE SCHEDUALED!! SOMEONE INFORRRRRRM THE OTHER'S WE'RE GOIN' WITH PLAN B THIS YEAR!!! AND SOMEONE GET THAT SMASHED HUNK O' JUNK CLEANED UP!!" The owl's scrambled to grab anything they needed to grab and quickly follow the fuming bird boss as DJ Grooves chuckled and shook is head. "Don't feel too bad about the Conductor, Darling. He's usually all talk and no bite." Hattie giggled. "Yeah! He's a crazy, grumpy grandpa!" Both Grooves and Bow chuckled at Hattie's description of the old bird, but none of them noticed frozen and mildly panicked form. Her?! In a movie?! Where millions of people could see her?! WHAT HAD SHE GOTTEN HERSELF INTO NOW?!
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